ã€ŠThe Valenfrost Saga (A Progression Fantasy)ã€‹


 Prologue: Premonition

    James was dying, the taste of blood overwhelming. He tried to spit the viscous substance out of his mouth, but even that proved to be an arduous task. Instead, the dying man could only gurgle and cough, his lungs feeling as if they were filled with water.

    ¡®I¡­I can''t breathe!¡¯

    That was the first thought that ran through his head. James struggled with his body, forcing himself to take a clear breath. Frosty oxygen rushed into his airways, finally giving the young man some respite. James¡¯ vision cleared then, showcasing the night sky and the tiny flakes of snow that fell onto him.

    ¡®Where am I? Why is it snowing?¡¯

    He could feel how his body swung lightly from side to side, his shoulders and legs held up by hands. He was being carried.

    ¡°He¡¯s still alive! We have to hurry!¡±

    It was a woman¡¯s voice, her shaking tone making her sound like she was on the verge of a breakdown. She sounded eerily familiar to James. He could swear he met her before, yet no memory came forth.

    ¡®Who is she? What¡¯s happening?¡¯

    ¡°Don¡¯t you die! Dammit!¡±

    She came into view quickly, yet the shadows of the night hid her features. James squinted to try and get a better look at this stranger. He was interrupted when a sharp pain flashed across his chest, the pain enough to make him want to yell in agony.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    James forced himself to look down and figure out the origin of his pain.

    ¡®Is¡­Is that¡­?¡¯

    His heart dropped at the sight of a sword¡¯s handle protruding from his chest. The worn and ragged steel of a crossguard was resting against his skin. Frost melted away where the cold steel touched warm flesh, driving back the chill of winter''s bite. He wanted to scream at the sight. Every nerve and cell in his body told him to rip it out, to get it out of him. Yet his body refused to respond. He was stunned with fear.

    ¡®I need to get out of here! I need to get to a hospital! I need to¡­¡¯

    James could feel himself getting tired. His eyelids were growing heavier, his vision waning by the second.

    ¡®No¡­I can¡¯t sleep¡­I can¡¯t¡­¡¯

    James could feel his head lean back into the woman carrying him. His eyes stared into the sky, watching as snow fell from the clouds despite it being August. James was cold, from the falling snow and the looming dread of death that slowly came for him.

    ¡®I don¡¯t wanna die, I don¡¯t wanna die, I don¡¯t wanna die¡­¡¯

    James could only watch as the clouds above parted, showcasing something extraordinary and impossible. Two moons lit the sky, casting an eerie glow against the clouds and trees. They almost seemed to be watching him, like the mocking gaze of a bored god.

    James felt his eyes close, casting him into darkness and despair. He was subjected to the void, his senses removed, and his vision blinded. He stared at the pitch black for what seemed like forever, his screams and pleading unheard.

    After what felt like an eternity, but perhaps was just a moment, the darkness parted, and James was met with the kindly face of an older man¡ªa familiar man, one who was long dead. His father smiled, and the darkness returned.

 Chapter 1: One Bad Day

    1

    Summoned

    <hr>

    James Holter thrashed violently in his bed as he awoke. He ended up upright, his breathing heavy and his hands going to his bare chest in a desperate hurry. His room was lit up by the light of his phone, which was on the ground, along with a couple of other things he had knocked over in his sleep.

    ¡°Shit,¡± he managed out, the memory of his dream fleeing from his mind as fast as he awoke. By the time James grabbed his fallen phone, the recollections of his nightmare were gone forever, leaving the twenty-five-year-old man confused and slightly shaken.

    He looked down at the fallen items, his eyes scanning them. He let out a breath of relief, thankful that his father¡¯s ashes weren¡¯t among the damage. The silver urn, which had been on its small shrine near his desk for years, was still there.

    James rubbed at his tired eyes before his gaze drifted to the nearby window in his cramped bedroom. He looked down at his phone, which displayed the time. It was still early morning, a good hour before he was supposed to go to work. This was the hundredth time James had been awakened so early by some nightmare he couldn¡¯t remember.

    ¡°Can¡¯t even go to sleep anymore,¡± James muttered. He looked down at his shaking hands, which were a result of whatever he had seen in that dream. He wouldn¡¯t be able to go back to sleep anymore.

    ¡°Might as well get ready for work. Maybe I¡¯ll be able to clock in early.¡± James stood from his bed and grabbed a work shirt and some jeans from his bin of clean clothes. After grabbing a clean pair of boxers, he headed outside his room.

    James was surprised to see his roommate and best friend, Nick, sitting at the cheap kitchen table. He was watching a movie on his laptop, his hands shoveling cereal into his open maw.

    ¡°You¡¯re up early?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Nah, couldn¡¯t sleep,¡± Nick muttered a tired answer. He turned to James, his right hand brushing some messy black hair to the side. ¡°Another rude awakening?¡± He asked.

    James nodded. ¡°Yeah. Can¡¯t remember why either.¡±

    ¡°Damn.¡± Nick leaned back in his chair, both hands reaching behind his head. ¡°Stress might be doing that to you. I know Monica has been giving you hell lately for missing dates.¡±

    James stopped midway to the bathroom. He almost wanted to call that idea stupid. Then again, he couldn¡¯t help but think back to his last argument with his girlfriend, Monica. It was a nasty one that nearly resulted in both parties breaking up. The reason why? James had wanted to move out of the city and pursue a different job upstate.

    He recently got the opportunity thanks to Nick¡¯s father, who had called in a favor to the company. It was James¡¯ chance to actually put his degree to use and get paid for something other than manual labor in a job he was starting to dislike.

    Monica clearly didn¡¯t like the news. She had called James selfish and ungrateful, especially since her friend Mike had vouched for James at his current workplace. Monica was technically the reason why James could afford half the rent in his apartment with Nick.

    The couple were currently on thin ice after their argument, the entire ordeal enough to give James a headache. As much as he wanted to pursue a better job, he felt as if he did owe Monica. If it weren¡¯t for her, James probably would still be living with his aunt back in the small town he grew up in, alone and isolated from the world as his friends went off to live their lives in the city.

    James¡¯ long silence prompted Nick to turn back to his laptop.

    ¡°Either that or maybe your meds are the problem,¡± Nick commented before his focus went back to eating cereal and watching his possibly pirated movie.

    James frowned. That was another good point. He turned his gaze to the bathroom, where his small bottle of pills was awaiting him.

    ¡®I¡¯ll skip taking them for the moment. I¡¯ll talk to my doctor the next time I see him.¡¯

    With that, James headed off to the bathroom to shower and hopefully be awake enough to drive to work unharmed.

    <hr>

    There were two things James hated about life in the city. The first was the constant traffic in the morning. The second was finding the perfect parking space outside his workplace.

    James cursed to himself as he rounded the parking lot, his eyes scanning for the perfect spot. None showed, even though this was a gated lot for employees only.

    ¡®If only I didn¡¯t take that stupid nap!¡¯

    James¡¯ drive to work took much longer than expected due to the traffic and his nauseating urge to sleep. He would have crashed had he not parked aside and slept. Unfortunately, what was supposed to be a short nap turned into a near hour long slumber. Add that and the constant traffic, and James was pretty much fucked.

    After his second round around the lot, James decided to bite the bullet and look for a spot outside the gated parking lot.

    He ended up parking two blocks away.

    James hurried to grab his phone and lock his mid-2000s piece of junk before he rushed to work, neglecting to take his lunch and wallet. Getting to work as soon as possible was his number one priority. He was late enough as it was.

    Just as James was about to sprint off, however, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a strange and cold presence wash over him. He looked around the street, which was weirdly barren of any life. No car passed through and not a single person was in sight. It was dead quiet as well, the surrounding city weirdly silent.

    ¡®That¡¯s weird. Silence. Wait¡­¡¯

    No, there was something making noise. Something distant and near quiet. Upon focusing on his hearing, James swore he could hear some kind of whispering and hushed mutters coming from somewhere.

    The young man turned to a nearby alley, which was devoid of any light. Something about the darkness caught his attention. Was there something hiding in there? Just staring at it, James could swear the chanting and whispers were getting louder. The longer he stared at the alley, the more his eyes started to catch something hiding in there¡ªa glint of light that seemed barely visible. As he debated whether to investigate the alley, a truck¡¯s horn snapped him out of his stupor.

    It was almost like he had entered a different world. The sounds of the city came back rushing to his ears. The constant beeping, distant arguments, and dogs barking drowned out the thoughts in his head.

    ¡®What was that?¡¯

    James quickly shook off the eerie experience and shoved it out of his mind. He instead focused on his current goal: to get to work fast.

    He launched into a run, his steel-toe work boots impacting and skidding against the concrete sidewalk in a rush. After running through semi-busy streets and dirty alleyways, James would finally reach the warehouse. He punched in the gate code and rushed past as it opened for him. He sprinted to the double doors in the back, slamming them open, and hurriedly rushed to the small electronic device on the nearby wall.

    James pressed his thumb against the small black sensor, watching as the blue-tinged screen flashed his name and hours.

    J. Holter

    9:13 a.m.

    08/28/20

    Hours: 35.9

    ¡°Shit!¡± James cursed aloud, earning a couple of looks from some passing co-workers. He was an hour late to his job again. He lightly banged his head against the wall, unsure of how he was supposed to explain his tardiness.

    He could always tell the truth, but explaining to his supervisors that he was late due to mysterious night terrors ruining his sleep obviously didn¡¯t sound right.

    ¡®Excuses. That¡¯s all I¡¯ve been giving them.¡¯

    James scratched at his scruffy blond beard, which was starting to grow out. He had forgotten to shave again, another result of his lack of sleep and low energy. At this rate, he¡¯ll start to look like a bum, which would be ironic depending on how the next few hours would go.

    ¡°James, bosses are calling for you,¡± a voice called from behind James. It was Sam, a fellow co-worker. He looked more than a bit worried as he gave the news.

    ¡°Both of them?¡± James forced out as he stood up straight.

    Sam nodded.

    ¡°Damn. Alright. Thanks.¡± James sighed before he headed off in the direction of the offices.

    ¡°Good luck,¡± Sam called out. ¡°I hope they don¡¯t tear into you too hard.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± James answered with a mutter. He would have to avoid getting fired. Again.

    ¡®Just gotta take it to the chin. Maybe work some unpaid overtime.¡¯

    James stopped at the door that led to Kim¡¯s office, the woman who had called for him. He felt himself hesitate, his instincts screaming at him to walk off and avoid the confrontation ahead. He pushed those feelings down. James knew damn well that he needed to face his problems, despite the consequences.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Just pick yourself up and press through,¡± James repeated what his late father had told him long ago. He knocked on the door, awaiting an answer.

    ¡°Come in,¡± a man¡¯s voice called out, his accent outing him as the supervisor for inspection. James felt his chest tighten up at his voice.

    ¡®This guy? Dammit.¡¯

    James braced himself as he entered the office, his eyes settling on the voice''s origin. It was as he guessed. Supervisor Dante stood next to Kim, who was currently trying to look through her pile of unorganized papers. Kim turned around at the sound of the door opening, her expression softening at the sight of James.

    ¡°Take a seat if you want, but I won¡¯t recommend it,¡± Kim called out. She sighed as she grabbed a clipboard. ¡°This will be quick.¡±

    James opted to stand, his eyes moving to Dante, who watched with a piercing gaze that befitted a hawk¡¯s. He had a look that made it seem like he was internally judging everything. It didn¡¯t help that he was constantly on James¡¯ back, complaining and pointing out mishaps. No one in the warehouse even liked him. Hell, James was convinced Kim didn¡¯t like him much.

    Kim, his actual boss, had always defended James whenever Dante came to her and the other higher-ups about his work. She had vouched for and even recommended the young man for a promotion a month back. Of course, the possibility of working for a better wage slipped out of James¡¯ fingers shortly after that.

    James was never the ¡®ideal¡¯ worker, but he did his job well and consistently. He was decent and well-liked among his co-workers. It didn¡¯t last long, however. Everything had gone to hell when the nightmares started. Constant loss of sleep, nighttime hallucinations, and exhaustion had all chipped away at his job and personal life.

    James even had to get sleep meds, but those rarely worked. If anything, they made it worse.

    ¡°James, do you have any idea how many times you¡¯ve been late? Let alone the hours you¡¯ve clearly missed,¡± Kim¡¯s voice echoed loudly in the small room, her words striking James like a pair of weights. The young man avoided eye contact with both her and Dante. He tried to focus instead on the nearby window, which displayed the workers and their daily routine.

    James could see his reflection in the glass, his tired, dark blue eyes staring back at him. While short, his blond hair was disheveled and messy, and his scruffy beard was no different. All in all, he looked exhausted and drained.

    ¡°James, look at me,¡± Kim¡¯s voice called back to James, snapping him out of his trance. She was a short middle-aged woman, 5¡¯6 at best, with high heels. James himself was easily 6¡¯2, a giant compared to her. Still, he was intimidated by her and Dante, mainly because they were both the source of his paychecks, therefore the reason why he wasn¡¯t sleeping on the streets and why he was able to live like a decent human being.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been constantly late, James. I know you have some issues with your personal life, but this is unacceptable.¡± Kim frowned as she spoke. ¡°I¡¯ve been bailing you out this past month, doing my best to make sure you get to keep your job.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s just that¨C¡± James was cut off when Dante raised a hand.

    ¡°Excuses, excuses. That will get you nowhere. This is serious, James!¡± Dante almost shouted. James bit his tongue in response, his gaze moving back to Kim.

    Kim had a stern and almost regretful look. It was clear that she was no longer going to defend James.

    ¡°Here,¡± Kim muttered as she held out the clipboard in her hand. James cautiously took it and focused on the contents.

    ¡°Shit.¡± James wanted to facepalm himself. He had no other words. The damn sheet looked like a five-year-old was given a red sharpie and was told to go to town on it. The fact that he was getting flak for it now showed the limits of Kim¡¯s patience.

    ¡°Yeah. Pretty much,¡± Kim agreed with a sigh, her hands taking back the clipboard. ¡°James. I have to let you go. I¡¯m sorry if this seems sudden, but we can¡¯t keep you here if you¡¯re siphoning money from the company¡­¡±

    James didn¡¯t hear anything of what Kim was saying, his mind drowning out her voice. He already knew what was coming. Deep inside, he wanted to argue and point out other workers, such as Aaron or Mike, as they never seemed to be around in the workplace. In fact, that asshole Mike had done nothing contributory to the company ever since his promotion last month.

    Outside of harassing the women at work, Mike had instead put all his time into that damned bike he bought recently. If it weren¡¯t for the fact that Mike had gotten him this job, James would have surely started something with the wannabe frat boy.

    James held back his biting comments about the other man. He was angry at the wrong person. There was no one else at fault for this other than James himself. That realization had already set in before he was given the clipboard. There was no arguing with this, even if there were others who were worse. It was the basic principle of three strikes. While the other troublemakers had only two warnings, James had more than exceeded excuses. This was his own doing.

    ¡°Do you understand?¡± Kim finished finally, crossing her arms as she sat back on her desk. Despite not hearing a word past ¡®company,¡¯ James fully understood Kim, his eyes dropping to the ground as he sighed tiredly.

    ¡°Yeah. I understand.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Hey! You¡¯ve reached Monica! Please leave a messa¨C¡±

    James cursed under his breath as he pressed the red ¡®End Call¡¯ button. The sweat that stung his eyes didn¡¯t make it any better. The August heat was proving to be a pain in the ass. His car¡¯s AC had stopped working at some point in the past year, making the summer unbearable.

    ¡®At least I don¡¯t have to pull my window down. Not when it''s in pieces.¡¯

    James looked at his shattered passenger window, which had happened when he left his car to park that morning. Apparently, despite being away for only fifteen minutes, someone had broken in and stole both his wallet and lunch. James had already called his bank to turn his cards off, but he was fairly certain that a thief wouldn¡¯t be interested in the three bucks he had in his bank account. As for the thirty dollars Nick had lent him for gas, that was most certainly gone.

    ¡°Just need to get to Monica¡¯s,¡± James muttered. His car had some life in it yet. It would be enough for him to drive to Monica¡¯s house and his apartment. He just needed to talk to her about the possibility of moving in.

    Monica had her own place, a house given to her via a will. Her uncle had previously owned the property before he died and left it to her. That wasn¡¯t the only thing left to her. Monica had been jobless for a while now, relying primarily on unemployment checks and whatever was left of her inheritance. James hadn¡¯t really pressed her about getting a job, since any mention of it would spark some kind of argument.

    He didn¡¯t want to admit it, but he never could get over the fact that he and Monica never got each other. They had initially been fine during the first two years of dating, but something had changed after she had gotten her inheritance. She smoked a lot more, went out constantly, and had been fairly distant with James.

    ¡®Could it be my fault?¡¯

    James had been getting distant with her. Lately, it felt as if their interests had changed in the past year. Instead of trying to salvage their relationship, James had opted to give Monica space and avoid arguing as much as he could. Work didn¡¯t help either, since he needed to pay off the rest of his student loans.

    ¡°Maybe now that I don¡¯t have a job, I can probably spend some more time with her,¡± James said to himself. There was at least some kind of silver lining to this cursed day. Then again, he would probably have to float the idea of his job opportunity to her. It was more than likely to start another argument.

    James would finally pull up to the small suburban home, which sat just outside the city. He put his car in park and turned it off, his thoughts going to the inevitable arguing that awaited him.

    ¡°Just pick yourself up and press forth,¡± he repeated to himself as he stepped out of his vehicle. Once James had forced his door closed, a familiar feeling washed over him. It was the same feeling from that morning. The cold that tickled at his spine and neck, bringing out goosebumps and a shiver from him. Accompanying it were the hushed whispers of something distant and unrecognizable.

    James slowly turned around, his focus on where the soft chattering was coming from. His eyes settled on the nearby community park, which was void of any signs of life. The swings swung emptily, and the playground was eerily vacant.

    James focused on the group of trees that sat undisturbed and isolated behind it all, their canopies casting an unnatural dark shadow beneath. He stared, almost mesmerized by the void. He took a step forward, the whispers in his ears beckoning him to come closer.

    Ring! Ring!

    James was snapped out of his hypnotic state by the sound of a bell. He turned to the source, which turned out to be a couple of neighborhood kids riding their bikes nearby. They passed by James, nearly running over his shoes in the process. The lead kid turned back to the confused man, his thumb and index finger forming an L on his forehead.

    ¡°Watch where you¡¯re going, hobo!¡±

    They called and laughed as they rode off, leaving James dumbfounded. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, unsure of what to think.

    ¡°The exhaustion is getting to me. I need to get some actual rest,¡± James groaned. He shook himself awake before heading up to Monica¡¯s home. As he did so, he noted the red motorcycle parked nearby. James shrugged it off, but soon realized something. He stopped right at the lawn of the house. He took another look at the motorcycle.

    It was Mike¡¯s bike. James wasn¡¯t sure at first, but after inspecting it some more, he recognized the small punisher sticker and markings on the rear fender. It was his bike, through and through.

    ¡®What¡¯s Mike doing here? Isn¡¯t he on vacation?¡¯

    That was right. Mike had taken some days off to tend to some personal matters. That was why James was tasked with his responsibilities for the week. Yet here was Mike, parked outside Monica¡¯s house. James stared at the bike, his mind going to the few possibilities.

    ¡®No. He¡¯s just a mutual friend. He can¡¯t¡­He took his days off for¡­but¡­¡¯

    James tried to justify it, to find a plausible reason. Yet his chest tightened, and his rage began to broil. The stress that he had built up from that day came into full force, and before his better judgment could kick in, James was stomping over to Monica¡¯s porch. He flipped the doormat, grabbing the hidden house key Monica kept under there.

    Without a word, James burst into the home. He staggered at the overwhelming stench of nicotine and pot, his eyes watering at the sudden attack on his senses. Regardless, he marched through in a fit of rage, kicking aside trash and discarded clothing.

    Not long after his loud entrance, he could hear the sound of Monica¡¯s voice, panicked and elated, as she shushed the sound of another voice, a male voice.

    Monica stumbled out of her bedroom in a hurry, a blanket over her naked, pale body. Her eyes widened, and she raised a pleading hand.

    ¡°James?! What¨C?!¡± She didn¡¯t even finish as James pushed past her, entering the room she had just vacated. The fog from her smoking was so intense that James had to squint through the hazy room. His eyes finally locked onto his target. A tall, lanky Mike stood by the bed, his pants halfway on as he looked at James like a deer in headlights.

    Everything went by in a blur. James can only remember the screaming from Monica as he punched the bastard, who was still half-naked.

    Crack!

    That was Mike¡¯s nose breaking, blood flowing out as confirmation. James threw another punch, sending specks of blood everywhere. Mike had tried to fight back, his fist swinging wildly at James. Despite his attempt at a counter, nothing he did faze James, even when he was swinging like crazy.

    Mike¡¯s arms soon went limp when James¡¯ fist met his face for the umpteenth time, more blood staining both men.

    By the time James stopped, he had already lost count of his hits. Still, he had a feeling that he would¡¯ve eventually killed the guy if he had kept going. He dropped him to the floor, panting as Monica went to help the broken man. She was babbling something about James being a ¡®Fucking Psychopath¡¯ and how he should get out before she called the cops. James didn¡¯t listen to a single word. He was already halfway out, not wanting to even be near her.

    Before he knew it, James was standing on the front porch, his fists covered in bruises and his body aching. He breathed in the crisp air outside, his lungs thanking him. James took a couple of shaky steps off the porch, his balance wavering as he tried to get to his car.

    Even crossing the street was difficult, as his legs wobbled and threatened to give out beneath him. James would soon shut himself inside his car, his breathing slowly steadying. He looked down at his hands, which bled a mix of his and Mike¡¯s blood. James could even feel his cheek aching. He turned to the rear-view mirror, seeing how there was a small bruise forming on his right cheek.

    Mike must have landed a blow on him during their encounter. James didn¡¯t even process it at the time.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t even think. I just blanked out.¡¯

    James never knew he still had this urge for violence, as he now hated to be in such situations. Fighting was a bad habit he had back in highschool, back when he was looking for a way to cope with the grief of losing his mother. It had only made things worse for him back then, and the young man had since tried to find peace with himself.

    James swallowed down his regret and searched his glove compartment, grabbing an old stick of gum and popping it in his mouth. For the next few minutes, he would try to ease the stress away before finally driving off, leaving Monica¡¯s house for good.

 Chapter 2: The Lake

    ¡°The number you are trying to reach cannot be contacted at the moment. Please leave a message at the tone.¡±

    BEEP

    James sighed at the failed phone call, his gaze moving to the gas station¡¯s neon spinning sign.

    ¡°Hey, Aunt Dina. It¡¯s James. You¡¯re probably sleeping right now, but I thought I should let you know that I¡¯m heading to your house upstate. I might make it tonight, who knows? I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Call back when you get this. I¡¯ll explain what I can over the phone. Love you.¡±

    He pressed ¡®End Call¡¯ and pocketed his phone. His car had finally finished refueling, the meter stopping at exactly thirty-five dollars. James looked down at the wallet in his free hand. It was an old one, one he used back when he was still a freshman at college. He silently thanked his younger self for being too lazy to get rid of it.

    It carried his expired ID and some leftover cash he had forgotten about. It didn¡¯t amount to much, but it did help with the gas. Whatever remained left him with barely enough to afford some food on the way to his aunt¡¯s place.

    ¡®Not enough for a motel, of course. Whatever. I can sleep in my car. It''s not like tonight¡¯s going to get cold.¡¯

    The back of his vehicle was loaded with duffel bags that held items of importance. Books, clothes, and even his father¡¯s urn were all stored neatly in the backseat of the Honda. His old room back in the apartment was bare and vacant, his bed and desk on the local curb.

    After his altercation with Mike and Monica, James decided that he had had enough of city life. He was done with it all¡ªthe meds, the nightmares, the traffic¡ªhe was sick of it all. James needed a break after years of living in monotony and toxicity. His firing and Monica¡¯s cheating were more than enough incentive for him to call it quits.

    He wasn¡¯t sure what he was going to do for money. Perhaps that job offer from a while back was still on the table. Then again, James didn¡¯t really care for it. He had no real direction in life, not before today nor after. He had only done what was asked of him: went to college, got a job, and got a place in the city. James had done it all, yet he felt empty.

    James had no goal. No ulterior motive for anything. His job and ex were the only things that were actually giving some kind of purpose. Not a great purpose. But it was at least something. Now, James had nothing.

    ¡®That¡¯s life for you, huh?¡¯

    James entered his car with some reluctance, his focus on the dashboard clock. It was currently 11:21, and the sky outside was nearly pitch black.

    ¡°I should¡¯ve probably stayed a night at the apartment at the very least,¡± he muttered, turning the key in the ignition. The car sputtered to life, showing James that it still had some life in it. James couldn¡¯t help but feel a little bad for Nick. His friend had always been there for him, through high school, college, and finally, adult life. They were almost inseparable in their life paths.

    Until now. James wanted to move out and find a better purpose in life. While clearly upset, Nick had supported him in this. He even helped James move out his furniture and things. For that, James left his best friend his prized PC, a rig they had built together. At least Nick would make better use of it, as long as he didn¡¯t eat next to the thing.

    Of course, Nick had offered him to stay the night to reflect and plan the next few weeks. James almost regretted not taking the offer since now he had to drive through the darkness of the night.

    ¡°Then again, I probably would¡¯ve had to deal with Monica or Mike confronting me,¡± James realized aloud. Those two knew where he lived, and it definitely wouldn¡¯t have been pleasant to deal with the aftermath of that confrontation. James felt a little better now about leaving that godforsaken city.

    Without wasting any more time, he drove off onto the highway. He had already been driving for a while, this gas station being one of his few stops upstate. James could already tell it was getting late since the cars on the road began to dwindle as time passed.

    At some point, it looked as if he was the only one on the road, accompanied only by his fading headlights and the whistling of the wind. Driving had already become a lethargic task, the road only serving to hypnotize him. He would play some music had it not been for the fact that his radio had stopped working years ago. Then again, judging from the forest around the highway and the distant mountains, it was clear that James wouldn¡¯t get a signal either way.

    He soon passed a road sign detailing what was ahead, including a truck stop and an inn.

    ¡°Thank god,¡± James yawned. Just a bit more and he would be able to get some sleep. That was the one thing that was driving him forward.

    ¡®So tired¡­¡¯

    James passed by another sign, this one telling him that he was nearing Black Water Lake, a name that rang a bell to him.

    ¡®That¡¯s right.¡¯

    His tired thoughts went back through his memories, specifically the ones from his childhood. Black Water Lake was his father¡¯s favorite place to visit, mainly because it reminded the man of his home. While it wasn¡¯t as impressive as the one back in Norway, his father had still visited it.

    The thought of his late father sparked something in James¡¯ mind, bringing back a buried memory he had wanted to forget for the past decade.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°James,¡± the tall figure said softly, looking down at Little James with a gentle smile. Little James looked up at his giant of a father, who seemed both intimidating and gentle.

    ¡°Yes, Dad?¡± the child answered, his small voice curious and excited. The giant looked out onto the lake''s waters, which shimmered under the sunlight.

    ¡°When I pass away in this world, promise me you¡¯ll spread my ashes here, at my home.¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Little James blinked, confused. ¡°You¡¯ll leave me? But why?¡± He could feel himself on the verge of crying, his eyes tearing up.

    His father laughed softly, which seemed to calm Little James¡¯ fears. ¡°No, not soon, at least. It¡¯ll be a very long time before I¡¯ll leave you. I promise.¡± Those words rang in Little James and would continue to ring in his head for years.

    ¡°I promise.¡±

    </blockquote>

    James blinked, cursing as he snapped back into the waking world. His eyes regained vision and focus, but it was already too late. He was already face to face with an oncoming deer on the road, which stared at him with terrified eyes. James quickly swerved out of the way, his car ramming through the fence on the right side of the road, sending his car down a hill. The car jumped and rocked, sending everything flying. The impact came milliseconds later, jolting James¡¯ body violently against the seatbelt.

    The world went black right after.

    <hr>

    ¡°You would have been a good marauder,¡± a sinister voice called out as James fell to the ground. The dying man wasn¡¯t sure what had happened or why it did. He only knew that he was bleeding out and that the cold was overtaking his senses. He could do nothing as he stared at the silhouette of the man who had killed him.

    James couldn¡¯t even say anything as his vision faded by the second. His mouth was numb, his hands unresponsive. His chest hurt like hell. He was dying, and there wasn¡¯t anything he could do. He could only stare at the two moons above, his body going cold and his world turning black.

    At that moment, in the void, his father¡¯s voice returned to him.

    ¡°I promise.¡±

    James gasped as soon as he awoke, the taste of steel in his mouth. He slowly touched his lips and drew his fingers back.

    ¡°Blood,¡± he realized dumbly.

    He looked out of the cracked windshield, seeing that he had crashed into the guardrail, which had detached from the road and set him into some old fallen tree.

    ¡°Jesus,¡± James muttered as he slowly unbuckled the seatbelt. The pain then came full force, causing him to double over as he cursed every unholy word under the sun.

    ¡°Shit! I think I broke something.¡± James gritted his teeth in agony as he surveyed the damage in his car. Shattered glass and glistening debris peppered everywhere.

    ¡°Dad!¡± He suddenly remembered his father. James quickly moved to the backseat, where his duffel bags were. He ignored the pain as he grabbed the most important one, unzipping it to find the urn. Thankfully, it was undamaged and in perfect condition.

    ¡°Oh, thank god,¡± he breathed, taking the urn out and hugging it. He winced immediately after.

    ¡°Right, still injured,¡± James groaned as he slowly exited the car. Once he stepped out, he could feel the freezing night air hit him. ¡°Jesus! It should not be this cold!¡±

    James shivered as he leaned into the car to grab his other duffel bag. He unzipped it, digging through the packed clothes. Finally, he managed to pull out a gray bomber jacket. He winced as he put the coat on.

    ¡°Can¡¯t carry the bags. Might as well take the essentials and come back for the rest,¡± James muttered, pocketing his wallet and phone before carrying the silver urn. He frowned as he looked down at his phone, which had broken during the crash.

    ¡°I could try to walk to the truck stop ahead,¡± he said to himself, shivering in the cold as he tossed his phone into the car. That was a possibility. Then again, he would have to walk on a dark road that winded through forest and wilderness. Not only that, but he had to climb back up since his car had veered off into some steep ditch. Had it not been for the guardrail¡­

    James shivered in the freezing dark, his breath coming out in puffs of steam.

    ¡®It wasn¡¯t this cold when I opened my window.¡¯

    James could feel confusion settling in. It was August, meaning that there was no reason for the cold. Which begged the question: Why was he freezing?

    Before the young man could ponder his question further, he was interrupted. There was the faint sound of something in the distance, the soft noise catching his attention.

    It was whispering and chanting, the sound arriving with a sense of cold and eeriness. It was the same feeling as before. Identical to earlier that day. It was there in the morning and again when he went to Monica¡¯s. James turned to the forest, his ears picking up even more whispering and chanting. It sounded as if the voices urged him to walk into the darkness.

    Despite his inner voice screaming at him not to, James couldn¡¯t help but take a few steps towards the woods. It was like something was tugging him to the woods for whatever reason. Despite his better judgment, and probably because he had a concussion, James walked into the forest, swearing that he could hear soft whispers guiding him.

    He walked on for what seemed like forever, his feet aching from exhaustion. Whenever he thought about breaking out of it, the whispers would continue pulling him in. It was as if their words were coated in honey, and their sweet promise meant something. As James walked, he could slowly feel the pain in his chest and abdomen fade away, replaced by a cold, brisk feeling. He shivered again before finally stopping.

    James wiped the blood from his nose and beard as he stared at the black waters of the lake. For a second, he thought he was back in Norway again, looking at the lake his father had taken him to when he was just a kid. But no, it was the smaller, less impressive lake he had visited a few times.

    It wasn¡¯t much of a lake if anyone could call it that. It was more like two interconnected bodies of water that looked almost like a lake, that is, if one were to squint their eyes at it.

    James scanned the small lake, his gaze settling on the slight orange tinge in the sky. It looked as if dawn was approaching.

    ¡®How long have I been walking? Or did that car crash knock me out longer than I expected?¡¯

    Before James could question some more, something caught his eye. He took a step forward, squinting into the distance.

    ¡°What is that?¡± James realized that there was something in the middle of the lake. It grew more visible as dawn approached, the soft, warm light of the distant sun shining on it.

    Hypnotized, James took another step forward. Cold, freezing water seeped into his work boots, but it did nothing to break his concentration. He took another step, his eyes glued to the foreign object that stood in the water. He clutched his father¡¯s urn tightly as he continued to walk forward.

    After what seemed like a couple of seconds, James managed to snap out of his stupor. He was closer to the slab now, despite just being on the shore not even a few seconds ago.

    ¡®Wait¡­¡¯

    He soon realized he was in the middle of the lake, walking on the black waters. His boots were perfectly leveled on the water, ripples coming from every step. Before James could begin to freak out, his eyes passed over the object, which was now more apparent to him.

    It was a strange slab of wood, almost resembling a tree trunk, with foreign-looking runes carved into the dark wood. Roots covered in moss twisted and turned into the waters below it, giving the impression that they were suspending the slab. The glyphs on the wooden monolith even glowed a soft blue, which had James hypnotized again.

    His hand inched closer to the totem, careful as his fingers neared the runes. Right when he touched them, however, the glyphs turned into an angry red. They quickly brightened to an extraordinary amount, nearly blinding James. He cursed as he covered his eyes, stumbling back before he felt the water beneath him give way.

    Without so much of a scream, James Holter was consumed into the black waters of the lake, never to be seen again.

 Chapter 3: The Shaman

    James was starting to drown. He desperately tried to find the surface, his left hand reaching out as his right carried his father¡¯s urn.

    ¡®Where¡¯s the damn surface?! Why can¡¯t I find it?!¡¯

    His left arm wildly swung through the murkiness in an attempt to swim. It felt futile. The water was pitch black, freezing, and unforgiving. His lungs begged for air, his instincts screaming for him to take a breath. He tried to swim, but even that was beginning to feel futile. James didn¡¯t even know which way was up.

    ¡®I¡¯m gonna die¡­¡¯

    Horror accompanied realization as his body tried to force itself to breathe, nearly filling his lungs with water. James fought the urge just as yellow spots appeared in his vision, a telltale sign that he was going to die a painful, cold death.

    ¡®I¡¯m so sorry,¡¯

    James clutched tightly to the urn as his consciousness faded slowly. Before he could completely fade out, though, James felt the unmistakable feeling of the ground beneath his feet. A thought ran through his head. If he was already at the bottom of the lake, there was no hope of survival.

    ¡®Don¡¯t give up, you coward.¡¯

    His inner voice was scolding himself, his tone that of anger.

    ¡®Pick yourself up and press forth!¡¯

    James gritted his teeth as he gathered up all of his remaining strength. He couldn¡¯t die like this. Not when he still had some life in him. With one final push, he kicked himself up towards the surface.

    James broke the lake''s surface, coughing up pitch-black water as he did so. He took a long gasp of fresh, cold air, which stung his lungs. James felt pure bliss breathing in the frigid oxygen, his body¡¯s adrenaline running in full force. As his vision slowly cleared, he slowly realized three things.

    One, he wasn¡¯t dying of hypothermia.

    Two, the water wasn¡¯t freezing, only mildly lukewarm.

    Three, he was standing in the black waters, which only reached to his waist. Once his vision returned to normal, James had a fourth realization. He wasn¡¯t at the lake anymore. Instead, he was standing in the middle of an indoor pool, surrounded by lit candles and runic symbols that glowed on the walls.

    ¡°What the hell...?¡± James muttered, both confused and terrified, as he looked around the unfamiliar room. As he examined the strange painted symbols, he noticed something moving in his peripheral vision, causing him to jump as he looked in its direction.

    ¡°The fuck?!¡±

    Somehow, James had failed to notice the thing that had been watching him. It had a woman¡¯s body, which was covered in furs and other garments as well as bone necklaces and animal fangs. It had the head of a stag, the black pits it had for eyes staring at James. The abomination moved cautiously towards James, its head turning curiously.

    James couldn¡¯t help but step back, his voice dying in his throat. Countless thoughts ran through his head, all different from each other. It all ranged from escaping, figuring out what had happened, and fighting this creature. For some reason, he chose all three.

    James¡¯s fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, his body choosing the former first. He stepped forward and shoved the abomination before him, sending it back against the stone wall. It let out a yelp of surprise that sounded surprisingly human, but James didn¡¯t care. He scrambled out of the pool with his father¡¯s urn and ran like hell towards the only exit.

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    It was that thing again, its voice calling out to the young man. James ignored it, his legs propelling him through the narrow hallway. It was dark, only lit with sparse candles and whatever light was coming from the other side. James continued running, ignoring the cold wind that rushed through the hall. He pressed on until he reached the end.

    The light of the outside blinded him for a couple of seconds, stopping the young man¡¯s run. James quickly blinked, his vision slowly returning to him. Once he got a sense of his bearings, the young man couldn¡¯t help but feel gripping despair as he oversaw gray cliffs and a vast ocean.

    James realized that he was on a mountain, which, now that he had looked around, was putting it nicely. It was more like a big gray, snowy hill with boulders and pine trees peppered around it. He could see what seemed like a sparse forest down the mountain, its trees covering most of the terrain.

    Something after that caught his attention, down the mountain¡¯s path, past the trees and forest. It looked to be a small town consisting of stone buildings and wooden homes, with occasional smoke coming from a building or two.

    ¡°A town!¡± James exasperated. He was more than happy to see a sign of civilization, yet his happiness was quickly replaced with instant distrust. His chest tightened at the feeling. Anxiety and fear were the only emotions he could feel at the sight. The town was off in a way he couldn¡¯t describe.

    Examining some more, James soon realized what bothered him. This wasn¡¯t some modern town. It looked older, with dirt and cobbled roads intersecting it. Squinting, he could see what looked like old ships docked in the harbor.

    Realization slowly dawned on James when he looked around his vantage point. He could only see the ocean for miles.

    ¡°An island. I¡¯m on an island¡­¡± James clenched his jaw hard. He tried to think of an explanation for all of this, one that would justify it all. Yet his mind came up blank.

    ¡°This is just a dream. A messed up dream,¡± James chuckled as he grabbed his hair. His knees felt weak, and his stomach was on the brink of throwing up his dinner. ¡°The car crash put me in some coma. That¡¯s right¡­ Some kind of¨C¡±

    ¡°HEY!¡± a female voice rang out behind James. He turned around in surprise, only to see the thing from before running towards him. James braced himself as it tackled against him, bringing both of them to the ground. He struggled and tried to fight back, his left hand clutching onto the urn whilst his right shoved and punched.

    The abomination landed a blow on James''s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. It then shoved its right hand onto the young man¡¯s face, keeping him down as it tried to subdue him. James struggled to gain control of the situation before something caught his eye. He focused his attention on the thing¡¯s belt, where the glint of a dagger was present.

    A fearful thought crossed his mind then and there, prompting him to try to wiggle out of the thing¡¯s grasp. When that didn¡¯t work, James attempted to grab the dagger. He planned on using it on this creature before it used it on him. He only managed to graze his fingers against the handle before another shout rang out from the thing.

    ¡°Stay! DOWN!¡±

    James was shoved back onto the ground, his vision blurring for a moment. The last thing he saw was the thing¡¯s fist, which knocked him out cold.

    <hr>

    When James came to, he was met with the ringing pains of a concussion.

    ¡°Ugh¡­¡± he groaned aloud, his eyes blinking as he tried to regain some sense of vision. James was soon met with the sight of what looked like a cabin¡¯s interior, the furniture around him sparse and old-looking. If he squinted, it reminded him of his aunt¡¯s place.

    ¡®Wait, where am I?¡¯ James snapped out of his idle thoughts. He frantically tried to move, only to find himself restrained. He blinked and looked down, seeing his body and arms restricted by a taut rope. He had been tied to some chair.

    ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± a female voice called out before him. James turned to the source, surprised to see the abomination from before. Only now, it was missing the bloodied stag head it used to have. Instead, he could clearly see that it was a young woman not far from his own age.

    The stranger had light brown skin with black runic tattoos visible on her arms. Her raven black hair was tied up into multiple buns behind her head, exposing her face clearly. James could see some strange symbols painted on her cheeks and forehead. If he could guess, it looked like she was the kind of shaman.

    ¡°What the fuck is happening?¡± James managed out in a mutter. He couldn¡¯t shake off the shaman''s unmistakable feeling of uncanny valley. It kept his instincts on edge and made him instinctively want to run.

    ¡°Sorry for knocking you out like that. When you tried to reach for my dagger, I had no choice,¡± the shaman said in an apologetic tone. You have every right to be confused and scared. All of this must be a lot to take in for you.¡± She stepped a little closer to James, her movements cautious and her hands open to show that she held no weapons. ¡°I mistakenly summoned you to this island.¡±

    ¡°Summon? What?¡± James furrowed his brow in confusion.

    ¡°Summoned via a ritual circle,¡± the woman explained. ¡°I must¡¯ve gotten something wrong and accidentally caught you somehow¡­¡±

    ¡°Somehow?!¡± James shouted in disbelief.

    ¡®How do you accidentally summon someone?! Better yet, how is any of this possible?!¡¯

    The shaman raised her hands in defense. ¡°I understand your anger. If possible, I¡¯ll help you go back to your home.¡±

    James stared at her, unsure what to make of what she said. He was still thinking about where he had ended up. Hell, he wasn¡¯t even sure if he was hallucinating all of this. For all he knew, this was something his brain was dreaming up while his body lay dying at the site of his car crash. That itself sounded more plausible than being summoned somewhere by some kind of voodoo magic.

    ¡°Where¡­ where the hell am I?¡± James slowly asked the stranger. She sighed, possibly relieved that James was no longer shouting.

    ¡°You¡¯re in southern Valenfrost. The island you¡¯re on is home to Yorktown, a small fishing settlement,¡± she explained. ¡°We¡¯re far from Azurvale¡¯s coast, but if we can catch a ship to Vindis, maybe we can¡­¡±

    She stopped mid-explanation, her gaze on James. ¡°You¡¯re really pale¡­ Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t¡­¡± James tried to get the words out. His throat felt dry as he tried to process what he heard. Nothing the shaman said sounded right. Despite understanding her clearly, it was all still foreign. It was very clear now that he was most definitely not in the States.

    It was starting to dawn on James that this wasn¡¯t earth. Something deep inside told him that he didn¡¯t belong here, that he was out of place. He tried to reason with himself, yet everything he had seen and heard had told him otherwise. There was no logical explanation for this.

    Somehow, someway, he had been taken from his world and brought here.

    ¡®No. The shaman said it herself. She summoned me,¡¯

    He looked at the shaman, who was beginning to look more and more puzzled at his reaction.

    ¡°I just don¡¯t get it,¡± James finally forced out. Nausea and dizziness soon overtook the young man¡¯s senses, blurring his vision and making him lightheaded. He wouldn¡¯t get a chance to say another word as he fainted.

    <hr>

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± The shaman asked.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. I think,¡± James muttered a response. He was currently sitting on the floor, right next to a small fireplace in the wall. He savored the warmth from the flickering flames, as his clothes were still wet from his untimely swim in the lake.

    James had fainted not even a minute ago, which had prompted panic from his summoner. She was sitting right in front of him; her serious expression from before now changed to genuine worry.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for putting you in a position like that¡­ uh¡­¡± she blanked a little, her brow furrowed in confusion.

    ¡°James. My name is James,¡± the tired man revealed.

    ¡°Right. James.¡± the shaman nodded. ¡°You can call me Dahlia.¡±

    ¡°Dahlia,¡± James repeated softly. He looked around the room he was in. There were some chairs weirdly positioned against the wall, along with a table and a chest. It left the middle of the room spacious and empty.

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing this is your place?¡± he asked as he examined the floor. His heart stopped at the circle carved into the wood. It was large and barely noticeable in the flickering light of the cabin but he could clearly tell that this was some kind ritualistic carving. It reminded him of those pentagram circles he had seen in horror flicks.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I don¡¯t do my rituals here anymore,¡± Dahlia quickly explained with a nervous laugh. The tone of voice was similar to the way someone might use when explaining an embarrassing hobby. It was too casual, almost as if this was supposed to be normal.

    ¡°Rituals?¡± James asked. ¡°You do rituals? Like sacrificing?¡± He almost kicked himself when he added that last part. Thankfully, however, Dahlia didn¡¯t seem to be offended at the question.

    ¡°No. Well¡­ Not exactly,¡± the shaman rubbed her chin in thought. ¡°Rituals always require a cost. The difference is how much we give. Sacrificing people is something that only necromancers and cultists do. I tend to give my own blood or if possible, animal blood. That¡¯s technically a sacrifice¡­¡±

    James didn¡¯t know how to respond to that. It only reinforced the feeling that he was in a different world.

    ¡°Where are you from, James?¡± Dahlia asked. The question caught James off guard. He racked his brain for a response that made some kind of sense. There had to be some plausible answer behind this. Then again, this entire situation was already teetering on the edge of pure fantasy.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m from here,¡± James answered in a near whisper.

    Dahlia tilted her head in confusion. ¡°I already figured that out the moment you bursted from those waters.¡±

    ¡°No, not like that,¡± James shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not from here. This place, this world, it¡¯s all foreign to me.¡± Granted, while James had only experienced a small portion of this place, it was more than enough to convince him that he was no longer on earth.

    Plus, with what he saw back on that lake, this was all starting to make some kind of sense. The alternative explanation was that this was all a product of his dying brain, desperately trying to make sense of the car crash and his injuries. Of course, the thought of that was mortifying at best. James rather believed otherwise. At least then he could die blissfully ignorant to the real world.

    Dahlia stared at him with a look of disbelief, which soon turned to hesitance, and finally to realization. James didn¡¯t have to say anything. He knew that she must¡¯ve noticed the same uncanny valley feeling emanating from him, not unlike she did for him.

    ¡°By the gods,¡± she muttered, ¡°That¡¯s not possible. Travel between alternate worlds shouldn¡¯t be possible.¡± She looked just as James felt. Skeptical. She stood up from the ground, her gaze downcasted as she paced around the room. James could hear how she muttered and cursed beneath breaths.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure there¡¯s some kind of expla¡ª¡± he was interrupted quickly by her snapping fingers.

    ¡°Yes! The ritual wasn¡¯t a complete failure!¡± Dahlia exclaimed excitedly, her entire demeanor changing. She sat back down with James, almost too close for comfort. ¡°How did you do it? What happened at your end?¡±

    ¡°I, uh¡­ was at a lake. I saw this weird wooden slab there,¡± James started. He slowly leaned away from the shaman as he recalled what had happened before he was summoned. The car crash, the freezing temperatures, the soft whispers that guided him to the lake, and the foreign object he witnessed.

    ¡°I remember blindly walking out to it like I was hypnotized or something. There were runes on it,¡± James recalled the glowing glyphs, which looked similar to the ones he saw in the cave he was summoned in. ¡°I remember trying to touch it before falling into the water.¡± He shivered at the memory of nearly drowning to death.

    Dahlia¡¯s excitement slowly died as she listened to James¡¯ story. In the end, her expression was replaced with uncertainty.

    ¡°That¡¯s all? You didn¡¯t perform any magic? No circles?¡± She asked.

    James shook his head. ¡°Nothing like that, no.¡± he looked down at his hands, which were still shaking from the entire experience.

    ¡°That¡¯s strange,¡± Dahlia commented. ¡°The ritual I was performing shouldn¡¯t have been enough to summon someone from an entirely different world. Unless¡­¡±

    ¡°Unless what?¡± James asked. ¡°What kind of ritual were you doing?¡±

    Dahlia¡¯s cheeks flushed red at the question. ¡°I was¡­ well¡­¡± She broke eye contact. ¡°I was summoning a demon familiar, one that could help me.¡±

    James felt his blood run cold at the mention of demons. ¡°You tried to summon a demon?¡± he almost shouted it out.

    ¡°Don¡¯t panic!¡± Dahlia quickly raised her hands. ¡°I know for someone like you, that¡¯s probably a bad thing. Well¡­ even if you were from here, the reasoning won¡¯t really change,¡± she shook her head. ¡°What I¡¯m trying to say is, please listen.¡±

    James wasn¡¯t sure what to say or do. He felt tempted to start running again, maybe even head towards the town he had seen earlier that day. Yet the way Dahlia spoke and acted assured him that he was not in danger. If anything, she had been nothing but a beacon of hope for him. She might¡¯ve summoned him, sure, but she also took responsibility for ripping him out of his world.

    ¡®Still, you have too little info to go on.¡¯

    That was the problem at hand. James didn¡¯t know anything at all about the shaman or this world, meaning that he couldn¡¯t judge nor accuse. Still, he had to make sure she was at least sane. That meant listening to her side intently and carefully.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m all ears,¡± James agreed.

    Dahlia made a face at what he said but didn¡¯t comment on it. ¡°I was only doing the ritual out of desperation. You see, this island has been the target of pirates. They¡¯ve been threatening to raid the town, asking for tributes to be paid to them.¡±

    ¡°The town¡­ Yorktown, right?¡± James remembered back when she first mentioned it.

    Dahlia nodded. ¡°Yes, Yorktown. It¡¯s not a thriving settlement, not for some time anyway. Regardless, these pirates have been causing nothing but chaos. The townsfolk are scared and the merchants coming here are numbering less and less with every coming month.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no guards? Or anything like that?¡± James wasn¡¯t really sure what to call them. Police sounded too modern to use, and the military was a bit too far-fetched.

    ¡°There is a town guard, but it¡¯s not much against them. I myself can¡¯t really fight so¡­¡± Dahlia trailed off, her gaze moving the sheathed dagger on her belt. ¡°The ritual was really the one thing I thought might work. The instructions were¡­ cryptic at best. Of course, there was the price of using the blood of a virgin.¡±

    ¡°Virgin?¡± James blinked. ¡°You didn¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°No no!¡± Dahlia shook her head. ¡°I used a goat to perform that part. The butcher in town was nice enough to allow me a bucket of the necessary ingredient.¡± She groaned as she flicked the side of her temple. ¡°That¡¯s probably why the ritual summoned you instead. The Gods must be punishing me for trying to cheat them out.¡±

    As Dahlia cursed to herself, James himself came to a consensus.

    ¡®She¡¯s not malicious. If anything, she seems a little na?ve.¡¯

    Dahlia had tried to protect her home. While summoning a demon wasn¡¯t exactly an ideal way to go about it, it seemed like she didn¡¯t really have many options to fend off these bandits. It was weirdly commendable in a way.

    As James watched the shaman curse to herself, he came to another, much more different, realization, one that had hit him like a truck.

    ¡®Dad! Where is he?!¡¯

    James frantically looked around for the urn. He soon spotted it near the fireplace, its silver material reflecting the light of the flames. James grabbed at the vase, nearly hugging it out of worry.

    ¡°Oh, yeah. I was going to ask about that,¡± Dahlia commented. ¡°What is it to you?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s personal,¡± James answered. He opened the urn¡¯s lid, happy to see his father¡¯s ashes intact. Not only that, it was completely dry. It puzzled the young man, since he himself was still damp from his unpleasant dip in the lake.

    ¡®Weird.¡¯

    James decided not to put much thought into it. He chalked it up to just being lucky.

    ¡°Do you want to change out of your clothes?¡± Dahlia asked out of nowhere. James turned back to the shaman, almost embarrassed to answer.

    ¡°What?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Your clothes are wet. You¡¯re gonna catch something if you keep walking around in them,¡± Dahlia explained as she headed to the chest nearby her cot.

    ¡°It¡¯s not much, but it¡¯s pretty much the only thing that can fit you,¡± Dahlia called back before she produced a set of clothes from the chest. She handed them off to James, who examined them. It was only a sleeved gray tunic and baggy black breeches, their material similar to wool and linen. James glanced at Dahlia, who simply watched him.

    ¡°Well? Are you going to change out of those clothes, or are you really going to risk it?¡± She asked, seemingly oblivious to what privacy meant.

    ¡°Can¡­. can you please, at the very least, look away as I change?¡± James protested, hoping that Dahlia could understand that he was very uncomfortable. The shaman sighed, understanding his discomfort as she turned away.

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch my stuff while I¡¯m looking away,¡± she warned as she faced the opposite wall.

    James quickly got undressed, but not before making sure Dahlia didn¡¯t peek or try anything. He began to put on his new clothes, which turned out to be uncomfortably itchy. He even had some trouble tightening his pants, which was different from any kind of clothing he had worn. Still, in the end, James managed to get dressed up in no time.

    ¡°Are you done?¡± Dahlia asked almost impatiently, her foot tapping against the rough wooden floor.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± James answered. He spread the damp clothes in front of the warm fireplace. It felt nice to get out of his wet clothing, even if his new woolen clothes itched like crazy. Dahlia had already turned around, her gaze moving to watch the fire with James. No, it seemed like she was more interested in James¡¯ clothes. He could see how her eyes were glued on them, her hand reaching out to feel the fabric.

    ¡°Fascinating,¡± Dahlia muttered. She picked up the sleeve of James¡¯ bomber jacket, her fingers rubbing against it. ¡°What kind of material is this?¡±

    ¡°Polyester, I think?¡± James muttered an answer, almost to himself.

    ¡°Poly¡­? Forget it,¡± Dahlia sighed. ¡°Considering you¡¯re from another world, it must be some kind of material beyond my understanding.¡± She laughed a little at that.

    ¡°Yeah, beyond your understanding,¡± James chuckled. He sat down on the floor once more, his eyes on the fire. ¡°You said I was summoned to Valenfrost, right?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s the name of this country or continent?¡±

    ¡°Not really,¡± Dahlia sighed as she sat back. ¡°Valenfrost is complicated. It¡¯s not really a continent or country, more like a collection of many small islands in the north,¡± she explained. ¡°A disconnected nation composed of nomadic clans and cities is a more accurate depiction of it.¡±

    James couldn¡¯t help but frown, a bit disappointed that he couldn¡¯t really explore this new world. Not only that, but judging from what he managed to pick up, leaving this town was going to be a challenge in itself.

    Dahlia seemed to have the smallest hint of a smile on her lips as she noticed James¡¯ attempts to hide disappointment.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Were you expecting to be summoned to a sprawling kingdom with a distressed damsel?¡± Dahlia joked with a grin.

    James couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at that. His fear and confusion from before had all but evaporated. As of now, it would probably do him some good to stay calm and keep his mind clear.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to rest up for tonight,¡± Dahlia yawned as she stood up, her arms stretching above her head. ¡°I can lay down a couple of pelts and blankets for you. Temporary bed until we can get you a proper place to stay.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± James voiced as Dahlia headed off to her chest.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll figure out what to do tomorrow,¡± the shaman called back to the young man. ¡°Sending you back to your world should be as easy as summoning you from it, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, hopefully,¡± James couldn¡¯t help but mutter his response. He looked up at the ceiling, where the smoke of the flames was heading. There was a small opening on the hut roof, giving James a peek into the night sky.

    He could see the moon through clouds, shining through them faintly.

    ¡®No, not one.¡¯

    James suddenly realized that there were two moons up there, both a dull blue color. The first moon wasn¡¯t much bigger than the one back home and the second one was much smaller, like a little sibling. Stars he had never seen before also lit up the dark night sky, speckling the parted sky with red and blue shimmers. It was eerily familiar to him, in a way.

    Watching the night sky began to hypnotize James, his thoughts let loose as he watched the shimmering stars. They were so different from the ones back home, giving the sense that this world was beyond his own understanding. With it, the weight of the situation slowly dawned on James then and there, reminding him of how far from home he was.

    He had no friends, no family here except for his father¡¯s ashes, and no idea what to do. This wasn¡¯t earth anymore. He was in a world he knew nothing about. One that could tear him apart like nothing. The idea of it all should have terrified him, overwhelm him as it would with any other sane person.

    Yet, the faint promise of a fresh start in a dangerous world strangely excited James, which surprised him. It almost scared him. James was supposed to be praying for a way back to his world, not dreaming about a new start. Then again, it wasn¡¯t like he was doing well back on earth. James didn¡¯t have much to go back to. He had no real home and no real job. Earth didn¡¯t really have much left for him.

    ¡®Fresh start. I kind of like that.¡¯

    James couldn¡¯t help but smile at the thought. His situation didn¡¯t look so bad now. The possibilities set before him were endless.

    All he needed to do was simply survive.

 Chapter 4: Night of Solace

    Miles off the coast of Yorktown, floating in the waters, was a trio of ships. Their black sails were rolled and their anchors set, signifying that the crews were taking the night off. The black waters of the sea would occasionally impact the ships¡¯ hulls, rocking them in place. Most of the crew would still be asleep, as most of them were experienced sailors who had already gotten used to the nauseating movements after months of pillaging and pirating. Still, some preferred to walk around the deck, making sure no royal ships or rogue bandits were around, ready to sound the alarm if any showed themselves.

    Yet here in Valenfrost¡¯s waters, an enemy ship was a much more preferable opponent to fight rather than against the mythical serpents and beasts that were rumored to roam the deep and dark waters, hiding their unsettling shapes as they hunted for lone ships to devour.

    Thankfully, tonight was a rare night, fairly quiet as no ship roamed the waters and no beast hunted around the deep. There was, however, a single human prisoner, ready to make his escape from the captors that had killed his entire family and clan.

    <hr>

    Another wave rocked the ship, nearly causing Seamus Halvorson to lose his balance. He held back a curse as he pressed himself against the hull of the deck. He was terrified, his heart beating out of his chest as he slowly sidestepped through the shadows.

    Seamus had been slowly sneaking his way through the ship, careful as to not get caught by any roaming marauder. It was miraculous enough that he had managed to escape his chains without a problem. He was also extremely fortunate to not encounter anyone on his way to the surface deck.

    Yet even Seamus knew that this kind of luck wouldn¡¯t last long. He even began to wonder how long it would be before his good fortune ran out, before he was killed off by a wandering guard, his own story ending with a swift stab to the gut. He shuddered at the thought, his chest tightening in response. His fear had him stunned for a moment, his body slightly shaking as he tried to calm himself.

    ¡®How did it end up like this?¡¯

    Of course, he knew the answer all too well. It all had gone to hel back when he survived the initial purging of his entire clan, the slaughter enough to beckon the omen of the Blood Moons. Seamus had survived the massacre out of pure dumb luck. When he was confronted by that marauder, he had passed himself off as an unlucky merchant, giving a fake last name to not tip off that he was the Jarl¡¯s dear son.

    ¡®My luck has gotten this far. Let¡¯s pray that it gets me to safety,¡¯

    Seamus was now so close to freedom that he could taste it. Literally. The salt in the air made Seamus so relieved and excited that the urge to jump ship was nearly unbearable.

    ¡®No¡­¡¯

    Seamus silently scolded himself.

    ¡®I can¡¯t afford to risk swimming in the dark. I need to find a rowboat to get my arse as far away from this ship as possible.¡¯

    Seamus wiped some sweat from his eyes and looked around at his surroundings. No guards nearby. Most of them were already asleep below the surface deck, from which Seamus had come from. It was an act of the gods that he hadn¡¯t managed to wake any of them up.

    Seamus cautiously crept along the dark shadows, slowly crawling up the steps that lead to the top deck. He could see a couple of men talking at the other end of the brig, too far away for him to identify if they were armed or not.

    ¡®It doesn¡¯t matter anyway. I can¡¯t fight worth a damn, even if my life was on the line.¡¯

    Seamus gulped at that reminder, his hands shaking slightly. He couldn¡¯t even pass for a fighter with his small frame and bare face. He made a fisherman look more like a warrior in comparison. The young man looked unassuming and weak, which was not too far from the truth.

    Seamus shook those thoughts away. It would do him no good to dwell on his weaknesses. He instead took a couple of deep breaths, trying to build up the courage to sneak onto the deck.

    ¡®I¡¯ve gotten this far. No turning back now.¡¯

    Seamus physically crawled onto the deck, sticking to the shadows near the railing¡¯s edge and avoiding the light of the mounted torches nearby, which were practically everywhere. Luckily, most of the torches were almost burnt out, their flames weak and flickering.

    ¡®How big are these ships?¡¯

    Seamus looked around the deck. Once he was sure that no one was looking in his direction, Seamus rose from his prone position, half-standing as he looked out onto the side of the vessel. He knew the ship was bigger than the ones his clan had, but this was ridiculous.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    The brig was more than double the size of the longships he had seen before, making his late father¡¯s boats look like rafts instead of the terrible warships they were. Seamus swallowed and brushed his fear aside. He focused ahead and squinted through the darkness before he finally spotted the rowboats. Which were tied up near the railings ahead.

    ¡®No!¡¯

    Seamus mentally cursed all the gods he knew, as the small boats were being guarded by the two men he had spotted earlier. He could feel his hope for freedom dissipate like snow in water, the feeling of hopelessness settling in his heart. He almost gave up then and there, his despair almost enough for him to ignore the stray ember that stung at his neck.

    Seamus winced at the small burn, almost scolding himself for allowing himself to be so close to a torch. However, a spark of an idea crossed his mind. Seamus turned his head towards the torch that had burnt him. His gaze soon shifted to the many torches that were mounted on the ship.

    A grim plan now plagued his mind once he remembered the many barrels of alcohol he had seen in the cargo hold. It would mean possibly dooming the many souls that slept on the ship, most of them being the prisoners he had been stuck with for the last few days. Seamus grimaced, knowing that the many lives weren¡¯t worth it.

    ¡®Still, there has to be a way.¡¯

    He looked around, and his attention turned to the rolled sails.

    ¡®Maybe¡­?¡¯

    Seamus wasn¡¯t sure if it could work or if it would still doom the ship. He gritted his teeth, knowing that he needed to make his choice, sooner or later, or else he would die a very, very painful death.

    <hr>

    ¡°You fucker! You cheated!¡± Wren exclaimed as he pointed a fat accusing finger at Junn, who grinned stupidly behind his newly acquired gold piece.

    ¡°Want to bet again?¡± Junn asked, his smile barely having any teeth behind it. Wren wasn¡¯t sure how this bastard had cheated, but he knew damn well that Junn was slippery when it came to bets. Still, Wren was stupid enough to fish his pockets for another gold piece; sure he was going to catch Junn in the act. It was also his last gold coin, gained from the previous raid they did days ago.

    ¡°Err¡­. fine! But if I catch you cheating, I swear I¡¯ll gut you and feed you to the silverheads!¡± Wren threatened, hoping to get a reaction.

    Junn just smiled stupidly, unaffected by the threat as Wren slammed the gold coin on the railing.

    ¡°All right, watch closely,¡± Junn said, both hands out as he prepared himself. His face soon changed emotions, his dumb grin fading quickly as his one remaining eye widened. Wren was confused at first, certain that Junn was playing a trick to get him to look away again.

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to try harder than that¨C¡± Wren started before wincing as he felt something unbearably hot make contact with his shoulder. ¡°What the¨C?¡± The guard turned around, his eyes widening. The mast was on fire.

    Wren watched in horror as embers and pieces of flaming debris fell onto the deck and waters. He snapped out of his trance, turning to his fellow guard, ¡°What¡¯re you doing, you fucken idiot?! Sound the damn alarm!¡± He shouted at Junn, which seemed to wake the bastard up. Both guards scrambled across the deck, Junn heading to the bell as Wren went to find the captain.

    ¡®If that bastard¡¯s asleep, I swear I¡¯ll¨C!¡¯

    His thoughts were cut off immediately as he heard the sound of something large hitting the waters, specks of cold ocean water hitting his face.

    At first, he thought it was the debris from the mast, splashing down into the waters. But he soon disregarded that thought. They were at least five meters from the water¡¯s surface. For water to splash up to the railing, it must¡¯ve been something sizable enough.

    ¡®Unless half the mast fell off-board¡­ nothing could¡¯ve made a splash that big¡­¡¯

    Realization hit the old guard, causing him to run to the source of the sound. He looked down into the black waters, squinting into the darkness of the night. Wren¡¯s eyes were old and unreliable most of the time, but the burning mast thankfully provided enough light for him to see much more clearly. There, he could barely make out the outline of one of the rowboats floating away with an unauthorized passenger.

    ¡°Runner!¡± Wren shouted out as loud as he could. He could hear Junn finally ring the alarm bell, its ringing echoing out across the trio of ships. ¡°We got a runner! All hands on deck! Get the marauders out here now! Runner!¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Runner!¡±

    The hoarse, angry voice reached Seamus, making him jump in place. He looked up the ship¡¯s railing, where he saw the old guard he had spotted earlier. He was screaming his lungs out, his hand gesturing to Seamus¡¯ boat.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Seamus cursed. He could feel his heart beat like crazy as he rowed the boat, his adrenaline running through his body like a cold breeze. Seamus prayed to all the gods who were listening to let him get away.

    ¡®I¡¯ll be a dead man if they catch me¡­¡¯

    He frantically pulled on the oars with strained effort as waves rocked his small boat.

    ¡®If they catch me.¡¯

    Seamus blinked, a glimmer of hope slowly blossoming in his chest. It was still dark, meaning he could still disappear into the cold night.

    ¡®They would also need to pull their anchors and set their sails¡­ and that¡¯s if they manage to get that fire under control.¡¯

    Seamus had the sudden urge to start laughing like a maniac. He forcibly held it back, trying to keep his nerves under control. All he could do for now was row his way to safety and hopefully find an island to hide out on. So Seamus Halvorson did what he did best. He rowed and rowed for the entirety of the night, leaving behind a burning ship and a group of very confused marauders.

 Chapter 5: Serpents Bane

    ¡°Well? Come at me!¡± a voice called out.

    James opened his eyes and was witness to a strange scene, one unrecognizable to him. Yet there was a strange sense of familiarity to it all. It contradicted his memories and instincts, bringing nothing but confusion and fear.

    James was faced with a behemoth of a man, one armored in black and equipped with a silver ax. This man¡¯s grin was sinister and his eyes glinted with bloodlust. He held his arms wide, as if he was expecting an answer from James.

    The shadows of the dying day overcast over the freezing courtyard, the streetlamps nearby illuminating the two men.

    James wielded his sword in front of him, his gaze meeting with that of his opponent. Before the young man could answer the lingering question, the behemoth before him rushed forth at a blinding speed. He raised his weapon just as the world went black.

    <hr>

    James gasped awake. He was covered in a thick layer of sweat, his hands moving to his chest. He slowly caught his breath, his gaze set on where he had seen the stars from last night. Instead of the beautiful night sky, he was met with the sight of ugly gray clouds. The sun¡¯s light barely filtered through, making the morning darker than it should have been.

    Despite getting actual rest, James felt like shit. It was as if he had been thrown through some blender filled with rocks. His body ached like crazy and his ribs radiated pain. His first thought was that the injuries of his car crash had finally come in full force, reminding the man that he was still mortal. That was quickly shot down since, upon inspection, there were no visible bruises or injuries.

    ¡®Is it the way I slept?¡¯

    James groaned as he sat up, his back making cracking noises as he straightened it out. The floor wasn¡¯t exactly an ideal way to sleep, but Dahlia had no spare cots. Still, James wasn¡¯t going to blame the ground for his tired body. He instead shifted that blame onto the usual culprit for the last five weeks of his life. The nightmares.

    Like before, James couldn¡¯t recall a single detail from his night terror. All he knew about it was that it was enough to make him constantly wake up in the midst of the night, nearly screaming every time. Thankfully, none of it was enough to wake Dahlia. However, James was starting to feel frustrated with himself. Not only were these nightmares continuing, but they actually felt worse than before. It was almost as if they had been cranked to eleven.

    ¡°Maybe this world has some kind of remedy for nightmares,¡± James muttered as he stood up. He looked around the small hut¡¯s interior, which looked different in the daytime. The fireplace had no flame in it, its logs reduced to white ashes. James was about to comment on this to Dahlia, but he soon found out that she was no longer in her cot.

    Before he could take a guess, the door to the hut slammed open. A cold breeze rushed into the room, making James shiver in response. He turned to see Dahlia at the hut¡¯s entrance, her arms carrying small branches and pieces of wood.

    ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± the shaman commented with a smile. She walked past the young man, her destination set on the fireplace.

    James was about to ask her about a possible remedy for his nightmares when something shiny caught his eye. His gaze wandered to Dahlia¡¯s side, where she kept a long ornate dagger. The dagger was beautifully crafted, with sharp silver edges and runic characters engraved into the blade. It slowly swung from side to side as she knelt, catching the morning light that made it glint now and then. Dahlia seemed to notice him looking as her voice interrupted James¡¯ trance with the dagger.

    ¡°You better not try to grab it again,¡± Dahlia called back, directly referencing the day before. James cringed a little yesterday, back when he had assumed the shaman was some kind of stag slash humanoid creature.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, after the headache you gave me, I¡¯ll keep a safe distance,¡± James assured. He watched as she piled the firewood next to the ashen pit. ¡°Do you need any help with anything?¡± he asked, trying his best to be helpful.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Dahlia answered simply before she rummaged through the satchel by her waist. James watched as she pulled out what looked like blue chalk, which was shaped like a jagged rock. Dahlia wiped away the runes that were near the fireplace before using the chalk-like stone to draw new ones. They almost reminded him of the ones he had seen on that slab. While similar, he quickly dismissed it. These runes didn¡¯t match at all to the ones he saw.

    Once Dahlia was done, she hovered her palm over the newly drawn runes. At first, it looked like it was doing nothing. That is until James took a closer look. He could see how new runes slowly started to glow a soft blue.

    ¡°I have to replace these runes now and then since they¡¯re supported by weak magic,¡± Dahlia explained, almost as if she could hear the question pop up in James¡¯ head. Once she was done with the runes, she tossed a decent-sized branch into the pit, along with some twigs and dry leaves. The shaman raised her hand, aiming her palm at the firewood.

    ¡°Ignition,¡± Dahlia chanted out, an ethereal ring accompanying her voice. James watched as glowing symbols materialized in front of the wood, burning red before dissipating into nothingness. As soon as the symbols dissipated, flames appeared on the wood, slowly growing bigger as Dahlia stood back up.

    ¡®I guess that confirms magic in this new world. Makes sense, since she managed to summon me here.¡¯

    The idea of magic was so surreal to James that it made him wonder if he was still in his crashed car, foaming at the mouth as he dreamed this reality.

    ¡®Best not to think about that grim alternative.¡¯

    He instead focused on the sight that was Dahlia¡¯s fireplace. The flames from her spell rose and danced, getting to a point where James was sure it was going to set fire to the place if left unattended. He was going to ask Dahlia about this, but he soon got his answer in the form of air shimmers.

    Upon closer examination, he could see how there was a weird shimmering surrounding the flames, the strange phenomenon shifting whenever they got too high.

    ¡°You¡¯re like a child,¡± Dahlia commented with a chuckle. She stood up from the fireplace, straightening herself out.

    ¡°I mean, I¡¯m from a different world,¡± James argued back as he changed his focus to her. ¡°You can¡¯t really make fun of me for that.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to,¡± Dahlia answered with a smile. ¡°I just think it¡¯s charming, in a way.¡± She brushed some of her hair aside before her gaze averted to the door.

    ¡°What¡¯s on the agenda for today?¡± James asked, mainly out of curiosity.

    ¡°We¡¯re gonna go and visit the town nearby. I¡¯m gonna trade with some of the townsfolk and get myself some supplies for the next few months,¡± she explained, turning and walking outside of the hut.

    James followed behind, listening intently as he looked around the hut¡¯s surroundings. He could see sparse bits of snow around, barely present at all. It was like winter was slowly creeping in. The thing that nagged at him was how strange everything looked.

    At a glance, it looked normal. Like any forest a person would see back on earth. Yet there was some kind of unfamiliarity plaguing it all once one took a closer look. For example, the surrounding trees looked vaguely like some of the ones back home, but they were completely foreign in a way James couldn¡¯t describe.

    James stopped his surveying when he turned back to the shaman¡¯s home. The hut was nothing like he expected. Its shape was strange, looking more like a roof built onto the ground, the walls short and wide. It was familiar, however, James realized. He remembered seeing something similar back to when he studied history.

    ¡®Old Norse homes.¡¯

    The image was nearly identical to what he recalled from those history books. It gave him a thought. Was there a chance he was instead sent back in time to the age of Vikings?

    ¡®No. Like she said before, we¡¯re in Valenfrost. I doubt that was in the history books.¡¯

    Then again, there was also the chance that he was sent to an alternate timeline. With what he¡¯d seen lately, anything was possible.

    ¡°Well? Are you coming or not?¡± Dahlia called out. James snapped out of his thought process, looking dumbly at Dahlia. He watched as the shaman grabbed a huge bag that had apparently been waiting out in the cold, its contents clinking as she handed it to him.

    ¡°I need someone big and strong to carry my stock and supplies,¡± she added, a hint of amusement in her voice as James accepted the bag. The bag was surprisingly heavy, shocking the hell out of James as he tried to find a comfortable way to carry it.

    ¡°What¡¯s in here?¡± James asked. He tried to hold the bag over his shoulder while being as careful as he possibly could.

    Dahlia gave him a slight smile. ¡°Oh, you know, my usual stock. Hides¡­ furs... potions. Maybe even a couple of heavy rocks I found while searching for firewood.¡± Her smile had turned into a grin as she turned and grabbed a much smaller bag, carrying it with ease.

    James wasn¡¯t sure if she was being serious. He debated if he should look through the bag himself. In the end he didn¡¯t and instead decided to bite the bullet and carry the damn thing.

    ¡®I really hope it isn¡¯t a long walk.¡¯

    With that in mind, James and Dahlia ventured out, taking a dirt path through the woods as they headed towards Yorktown.

    <hr>

    Seamus jolted awake, screaming in fear as he tried to find a weapon.

    ¡°Away! Away!¡±

    He wildly swung his oar in front of him, defending himself from the threats that came for him. He stopped soon after, quickly realizing that his nightmare wasn¡¯t real and that he wasn¡¯t in any real danger.

    Seamus blinked and rubbed his eyes as he tried to get a bearing of his surroundings.

    ¡°How far did I get?¡± Seamus wondered out loud before he stood up and stretched his cramped limbs. He could only remember how he escaped, his arms tirelessly pulling the oars as he tried to get to safety. Seamus had fallen asleep after what seemed like a couple of hours at sea, his exhausted body unable to keep rowing. It wasn¡¯t exactly ideal, but what else could he do?

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°Hopefully, I¡¯m far, far away from those murdering bastards,¡± Seamus muttered. Upon examining his surroundings, he realized that his rowboat had beached itself onto a gravel shore overnight. It must have been high tide when it did so, since the boat was meters away from the sea. It left the young man with no way to go back to water without pushing it himself. Seamus had neither the strength nor energy to push it back, so he instead focused on the island he was on.

    It wasn¡¯t much to look at. There was a treeline up ahead, the woods beyond looking almost intimidating to the young man. Beyond that, he could spot a small, unimpressive mountain situated near the island¡¯s center. Wherever he had landed, it didn¡¯t matter to Seamus as long as he was far and safe from any danger.

    ¡°Maybe there¡¯s a town nearby,¡± Seamus said to himself. He shivered as he looked around again. The young escapee was still in his bloodied tunic and ripped breeches from before he was taken prisoner. That was due to the laziness of his captors.

    Seamus wished that he had had on his coat when they captured him, as the cold breeze here felt much more unforgiving than back at sea. The thought of his capture brought back some of his memories from that night, like how he had hidden away while the fighting happened, or like how he watched warrior Fendal get his throat slashed. Seamus could still recall the visceral sight of dark blood faceting from the warrior¡¯s wound, the hot crimson speckling onto his clothes as he had watched on in horror.

    Seamus shivered again, not from the cold, but from recollection of the carnage from that night, which had resulted in his clan¡¯s near extinction.

    ¡®There are worse things than the cold.¡¯ Something primal inside told him. Seamus couldn¡¯t help but agree. As the young man tried to bury his memories, something grabbed his attention, causing him to look up at the sky.

    ¡®Smoke,¡¯

    He could see what looked to be dissipating stacks of smoke rise into the grayish clouds. It confirmed what he had hoped for.

    ¡°So, there is a town,¡± Seamus sighed in relief, a small smile appearing on his face. He silently thanked the gods, his feet moving towards the source of said smoke.  ¡°I really hope I can find something to eat.¡±

    The young survivor felt as if his good fortune were growing. If the gods were so merciful, perhaps they would be enough to make sure that none of those marauder bastards reached here.

    Hopefully.

    <hr>

    Serpent¡¯s Bane floated peacefully in the dark blue waters, its hull black as night and the figurehead depicting a beautiful mermaid. As the name of the brig suggested, there was a long, flowing red serpent painted beautifully along her black hull, the artist of which took great care in detailing and painting. When in motion, it looked almost as if the serpent itself was swimming and splashing through the black waters, led only by the mermaid at its bow.

    ¡®Unfortunately, she¡¯ll never be able to glide through those beautiful waves ever again.¡¯

    Havor stared at the brig¡¯s burnt mast, which was half gone and turned into nothing but fucking ash. All because a couple of idiots couldn¡¯t keep guard properly.

    Havor spat out a glob of mucus, sending it flying into the dark waters below. He turned to his fellow marauders on the deck of Frostbite, all of whom were listening to one of the guard¡¯s retelling of the incident. That fool Wren had his eyes averted to the sky, his voice taut with tension.

    Not too long ago, Havor¡¯s fellow warriors had to hold him back from killing the incompetent guard. The whole incident could¡¯ve been prevented if the old bastard was doing his actual job. The others were wise enough to hold Havor back, making sure that he didn¡¯t tear apart the guard limb from limb. After all, they weren¡¯t barbarians.

    Despite the stories and rumors, the Marauders of the North weren¡¯t complete savages. Quite the contrary, in Havor¡¯s high opinion. The marauder had been with this band of raiders for around a half a decade now. He had heard they were different from the average pirate gangs that roamed around Valenfrost, their goals much more virtuous and less heinous.

    Instead of targeting small merchant ships and local towns, the Marauders of the North usually opted to target the powerful and rich. They would take the spoils, keep what they needed, and distribute the rest across their settlements to the north. It was supposedly a just cause, one that sought to free Valenfrost from the greedy and the powerful.

    Their gear also reflected this nature. Instead of wearing ragged gambesons and rusted chain mail, some of the high ranking of the marauders wore black plated armor, tempered and fitted perfectly. The more important warriors had runes engraved into the steel, the enchantments varying depending on who wore it. The armor was also marked with the person¡¯s handprint, the red symbol placed on their chests to signify their allegiance.

    Havor, unfortunately, didn¡¯t have the honor of wearing that armor, his rank being right below theirs. His rank only wore black gambeson and mail, rarely ever enchanted, and never engraved with runes. Regardless, Havor wore his armor with pride, unlike his fellow partner, Helen Dunn, who also wore the outfit.

    Helen was currently on the Serpent¡¯s Bane, checking to see what goods and cargo survived during the fire. In reality, Havor knew she was tasked with the job for being the black sheep of the group, as she never took pride in her rank, nor did she seem really thrilled when it came to raids.

    For example, she had taken in prisoners during the raid on the Halvorson Clan, which she wasn¡¯t supposed to fucking do.

    ¡®Now one of those ¡®innocent¡¯ prisoners crippled one of our own ships.¡¯

    Havor was amazed that Helen wasn¡¯t even dead yet, as she had cost them gods know how many supplies and resources. Then again, Deimos probably had something in mind for her, as he always had before. Havor knew the chieftain of the marauders was as wise as he was dangerous, his plans always being carefully thought out and precise.

    A good example of this was when Deimos had taken down one of the most dangerous clans in Valenfrost, driving the infamous Halvorson Clan to extinction with only a handful of ships.

    Havor looked over at the group of marauders again, watching as Deimos turned to meet the man¡¯s gaze. The leader of the marauders beckoned Havor over to Frostbite¡¯s quarter-deck. The bald man quickly obliged and walked over to the group circle. Helen was just arriving as well, probably already done with taking inventory. She didn¡¯t look too happy, her blue eyes looking down at the ground as the bald marauder arrived at the group. Havor ignored her and instead placed his focus on Deimos, who waved a gloved hand at the old guard.

    ¡°You can go now, Wren. Take Junn with you and finish taking inventory of the cargo,¡± Deimos ordered. He had a gentle, calm voice, which didn¡¯t match his appearance. The chieftain of the marauders was a giant of a man, standing well over two meters. He had a black braided beard that flowed to his chest, where his large red handprint was painted on. Deimos¡¯ shoulder-length hair was tied up behind his head, leaving his sea-green eyes much more visible as they set onto the rest of the Marauders. Havor had to admit, the chieftain was attractive in a strange, dangerous way.

    Deimos sighed tiredly and rubbed at his tired eyes. His clear exhaustion was a result of having been up all night dealing with the fire and making sure it didn¡¯t spread to the other ships.

    ¡°All right, there are two main things we know,¡± he started before looking at Serpent¡¯s Bane, its crew headed down below decks to prepare for moving.

    ¡°One. The fire was caused by an escaped prisoner, who somehow managed to escape his chains and sneak past the guards.¡± Deimos held up two gloved fingers. ¡°Two. Said escaped prisoner has taken one of the rowboats and rowed his way to safety.¡±

    Everyone nodded at the recap, despite already knowing these basic facts. Havor was beginning to wonder if the chieftain got enough rest.

    Deimos put down his hand, his eyes looking over at Havor. The marauder nearly flinched, his chest tightening with fear. He was almost certain that the intimidating man had read his thoughts then and there.

    ¡°Havor, can you remind the group why we¡¯re in this part of Valenfrost?¡± Deimos suddenly asked. Relief flooded Havor¡¯s veins, his breath nearly coming out as a sigh. This sense of comfort didn¡¯t last long, as he was soon the focus of Deimos¡¯ green gaze, which pierced through Havor like a needle.

    Havor searched his brain, trying to recall the question asked.

    ¡°Because¡­ we found a map after the raid?¡± He said slowly and carefully, hoping Deimos wasn¡¯t about to smack him like the last time he had forgotten something important.

    The chieftain smiled, his hands moving under his armor. He soon produced a crinkled-up map, which looked shoddily put together.

    ¡°Exactly. The map had led us here, where we found this.¡± Deimos pulled out what looked like another map, except this time it was a detailed sketch of Valenfrost. It was inscribed with words that looked like nonsense. ¡°It was found in a chest that we had fished out from the bottom of the sea. The chest had nothing else except for a waterproof enchantment spell that was used to keep the parchment dry,¡±

    Deimos¡¯ words came out with a hint of venom and clear bitterness. He was pissed off, even if he didn¡¯t physically show it. Deimos looked to the man on his right, who wore silver embedded robes over his plate armor, as well as a red blindfold over his eyes.

    ¡°Eli. Could you please hand me the prisoner logs?¡± He asked. The simple question was enough for Helen to shift uncomfortably, her hand brushing her wavy blonde hair aside as she looked away. Havor ignored her and instead watched as Deimos accepted the piece of parchment from Eli.

    ¡°Ah here it is. Seamus Falken,¡± Deimos said. That earned a small, almost unnoticeable reaction from Helen. ¡°Could it be that Seamus Falken could also be Seamus Halvorson, famed son of Yorn Halvorson?¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t have known¨C!¡± Helen¡¯s protest was interrupted when Deimos¡¯ gloved hand swiftly grabbed at her neck. He instantly lifted her off the ground, his other hand clenching the piece of parchment. The act had been done at such speed that Havor instinctively jumped at the sight. He watched as Deimos lifted Helen higher up, the chieftain ignoring her choked pleas and frail punches.

    ¡°I swear I could remember telling everyone to kill any survivors they find¡­ Not save the survivors,¡± Deimos stated. Despite the tense situation, he kept his voice eerily calm.

    ¡°Kill, save. I wonder, do those two words sound the same?¡± Deimos asked lightly before dropping Helen to the deck. The fallen marauder gasped for air as her hands flew to her bruised neck, her breathing shallow and heavy. Havor almost felt bad for her. Almost.

    ¡°Luckily, you aren¡¯t a complete fool,¡± Deimos muttered. ¡°I only let the prisoners live because I had thought you had a plan for them. That perhaps you were smarter than you looked. Of course, last night only proved to me that you obviously cannot make your own choices.¡± Deimos sighed before he pulled out the other piece of parchment he had, the one with gibberish words. ¡°Still, there is some good.

    ¡°Theoretically, Seamus Halvorson is the only person who will know what this means. If I¡¯m right, this scribbling of gibberish will lead us to the fabled vault of his late father, Yorn.¡± Deimos looked at Helen, who was still on her knees, her breaths heavy as she massaged her bruised neck.

    ¡°We will head to the nearest island east of here. Chances are, Seamus is hiding out there with the locals. Either that or he¡¯s hiding deep within the island. Either way, we¡¯ll find him, even if it means torching down the settlement.¡± The marauders all nodded their heads, acknowledging the plan. Even Helen nodded, her eyes downcast.

    Deimos turned to the shipmaster nearby. ¡°Is Serpent¡¯s Bane¡¯s crew all on board?¡± He asked. The mention of the ship made Havor glance at it.

    ¡°Yes sir, everyone¡¯s currently awaiting orders,¡± the old shipmaster replied.

    Deimos nodded in approval, his glance turning to the crippled ship. ¡°Lock them all under the deck. Pull the boarding bridge and ready the archers with flame arrows and fireball runes. I want that ship set to flames as soon as I give my mark, understand?¡±

    The shipmaster visibly hesitated at the orders, but nodded obediently. ¡°Yes sir,¡± he said before walking off to complete his orders.

    Havor blinked, unsure of what he heard. He looked at Deimos for confirmation. The towering man noticed Havor¡¯s confused eyes.

    ¡°There must be consequences for the crew¡¯s actions,¡± Deimos responded in a grim tone. ¡°These people¡­¡± The chieftain trailed off as he gestured towards the doomed ship. Havor could see how his fellow marauders guided people under the deck, some of them even forcing the crew down before they locked the hatch.

    ¡°These people are unfortunately incompetent. They are dangerous to us and themselves. It¡¯s best we send them off with a warrior¡¯s burial.¡± Deimos¡¯ words carried a weight with them that was new to Havor. The stunned marauder only watched as the chieftain walked off, just as the archers on deck lit their arrows.

    The muffled sounds of shouts and pleas from Serpent¡¯s Bane soon reached Havor, the sound haunting the marauder.

    ¡°Pull!¡± Deimos¡¯ voice drowned out the ones of those who were begging, the single word loud enough to deafen Havor¡¯s ears. In response, the archers onboard did as ordered, pulling their bowstrings back as their arrow tips were set aflame. Havor could only watch as Deimos gave his mark.

    ¡°Loose!¡±

    Flaming arrows and balls of fire struck against the black hull, setting the beautifully painted serpent aflame. The fire spread quickly from there, quickly engulfing the mermaid figurehead.

    ¡°Pull! Loose!¡± Deimos yelled again.

    Havor was silent as he watched Serpent¡¯s Bane crack and burn, the sound of the flames almost drowning out the screams. Almost. The brig slowly sank into the dark waters, taking its crew down with it. Only half an hour had passed until the ship finally submerged, taking its incompetent crew down to the watery depths of the black sea.

 Chapter 6: The Marketplace

    James could feel how his back ached under the weight of the rucksack, his arms struggling to carry for much longer. The longer he carried it, the harder it was to walk down the rugged path through the forest. If he kept this up, he was bound to lose his footing and fall. The last thing he wanted was to spill or break whatever potions the shaman had packed into the sack.

    ¡°Can¡­ Can we take a break?¡± James asked. His back was killing him, no matter how he shifted the bag¡¯s contents, which seemed to get heavier by the minute. James had never sweated this much in his life, the stress on his body only making it worse.

    ¡°We¡¯re only halfway there, but sure.¡± Dahlia looked back at James with an amused look. ¡°Being as big as you are, I would expect you to do stuff like this in your world all the time,¡± she added, her eyes moving towards the shoddy path they were taking. The shaman stopped, and she placed her much smaller bag down.

    ¡°We¡¯ll rest here,¡± Dahlia said to James, who obliged almost immediately.

    He was careful not to outright drop the heavy bag, being as gentle as he could. As soon as the bag touched the ground, James collapsed on the dirt, trying to catch his breath. It¡¯s not that he couldn¡¯t handle the weight. The young man wasn¡¯t in the worst shape before his summoning. He had gone semi-regularly to his local gym back home, lifting weights and keeping his weight in check.

    The problem with his current situation stemmed from the fact that he was running on a few hours of sleep, with an aching body that had been through more than enough, and a mental state that was unchecked and probably on the edge of losing sanity.

    ¡°My world¡­ is much more different from yours,¡± James panted out, his tone of voice bordering on hostile. The bag he was carrying wasn¡¯t much help, either. It was filled with a multitude of items, making it difficult for him to hold right and downright impossible to carry comfortably.

    ¡°Do you carry down your stock to the town every day?¡± He asked, his breathing slowly going back to normal.

    Dahlia shrugged. ¡°Not every day, but I do carry my stock to the marketplace now and then. I suppose two times a month?¡± She shrugged again. James stared at the shaman before looking at the heavy bag that she had been carrying.

    ¡®Even if it is two times a month, there¡¯s no way in hell she can carry this bag to the town and back.¡¯

    James was beginning to wonder if he should go through the trouble of digging through the bag and seeing if she had placed heavy rocks.

    ¡°You never told me about your world,¡± Dahlia pointed out, interrupting the young man¡¯s thoughts. She was looking at James, her amber irises now glinting with curiosity.

    ¡®That¡¯s right. I never really told her about myself outside of the fact that I¡¯m not from here,¡¯ James thought. He turned back in the direction of Dahlia¡¯s hut, where he had left his father¡¯s urn and earth clothes. Dahlia had already told him that he shouldn¡¯t wear his earthly clothes since it would probably give his foreign identity away and cause the townsfolk to panic.

    ¡°Well, you never really asked,¡± James responded.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m asking now,¡± Dahlia shot back, a small smile on her lips. ¡°Come on, tell me about Earth,¡± she prodded.

    James frowned a bit, focusing on what he should tell her. Should he tell her about Nick? Monica?

    ¡®No¡­ she said my world, not my life story.¡¯

    James wasn¡¯t ready to dump his entire life drama on the unsuspecting shaman. If anything, it¡¯ll do nothing but make them both uncomfortable. He looked back at Dahlia, who watched with an interested look.

    ¡®When you think about it, you¡¯re technically Earth¡¯s ambassador, representing everything about your world and its people. No pressure,¡¯

    ¡°Well¡­¡± James closed his eyes and leaned back, his hand scratching at his beard.

    The Otherworldly man would go on to talk about Earth for the next hour, explaining to Dahlia about how advanced humanity had gotten in his world, how they lived in much more sheltered lives, despite being significantly safer than they were centuries ago. He told her about how some countries managed peace around the world, even if it wasn¡¯t perfect. Mentally, he had to sidestep the political conflicts that were still ongoing back home.

    James eventually told Dahlia about phones and cars, technology and science. The marvels of modern technology. Despite his info dump on everything related to Earth, James knew that he wasn¡¯t doing his world a favor during his explanations. He would often half-ass his explanations and presentation, definitely forgetting some points and facts.

    Regardless, it got Dahlia hooked. Her eyes were wide with curiosity and wonder during the entire talk. She had asked many questions, often about what kind of magic those ¡®computers¡¯ and ¡®cars¡¯ used.

    ¡°Are they powered by runes? Perhaps smaller ones, seeing as they can be carried anywhere?¡± Dahlia asked excitedly.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s the thing. There is no magic in my world,¡± James answered. His response caused the shaman to make a confused face.

    ¡°No magic? What, are you saying these marvelous things run on faith and good intentions?¡± Dahlia looked like she was on the verge of laughing at James, a grin on her face as she stood back up. She grabbed the small bag she had been carrying earlier.

    ¡°There¡¯s a sense of believability with the science and world peace you talked about, but no magic?¡± Dahlia shook her head in amusement. ¡°Seems a little far-fetched, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°Phones and computers are real,¡± James refuted. ¡°I¡¯m not exactly sure how the chips really work, but¡­¡±

    ¡°So you don¡¯t know how they work? So they could be magic, then?¡±

    ¡°What? No, it¡¯s just¡­ I¡­ well¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard enough,¡± Dahlia dismissed with a laugh. ¡°We should get moving. It¡¯s going to be noon soon, and I don¡¯t want to wade through the crowds at the marketplace.¡± She gestured towards James¡¯ cargo, which sat waiting for him to pick it back up. James sighed as he stood back up, picking the heavy bag up.

    ¡®I can¡¯t really blame her for not believing me. If someone came to me last week telling me that they were from a world like this, I¡¯d probably laugh and refer them to a psychiatric hospital.¡¯

    Without argument, James continued to follow Dahlia through the forest.

    <hr>

    Located on a nearly barren island with only a small forest and an unimpressive mountain for show, Yorktown didn¡¯t seem like it had much to offer besides a limited supply of wood and fish. Yet, the locals had seemingly made the small town thrive for the past century, despite the population not growing much throughout the decades. Every council member would promise to expand the town into the forest that sprawled all across the island and mountain, yet would never have the chance or resources to fulfill that promise. It always was for the same reasons, with more people leaving the town to ¡®find their purpose¡¯ or most of the elderly dying from a wandering disease that usually came around every ten years.

    Whatever the reason, Yorktown had somehow managed to keep its small population the same as always. This had made the island an unlikely target for many years, its nomadic state keeping it relatively out of the eyes of major clans and raider groups. Until now.

    Unbeknownst to the small populace, two black and red ships sailed in its direction in search of an escaped prisoner who had taken refuge on the small island not too long ago. Said refugee was currently arriving at the said town, ignorant to the target he had marked onto this little island.

    <hr>

    Seamus already felt unwelcomed as soon as he stepped into Yorktown, its beaten pathways much more greeting than the locals. He felt nervous as he caught their looks, which ranged between judgmental and unwelcoming. It was clear that he was an outsider, one that had no business being here.

    ¡®They¡¯re probably wondering how I got here.¡¯

    Seamus kept his eyes forward as he walked on the cobblestone road. He had already been thinking of excuses to use whenever someone asked him how he had arrived here, but he couldn¡¯t think of any actual excuses that wouldn¡¯t raise any eyebrows. The only good one he had come up with was a shipwrecked story, but Seamus lacked the finesse and storytelling skills to sell that background.

    ¡®What if they ask too many questions? I can¡¯t possibly think of an answer to every single one.¡¯

    Seamus¡¯ thoughts were interrupted when his stomach growled, the sound nearly scaring the daylights out of the paranoid man.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± he muttered loud. He felt his stomach lurch again. Seamus grimaced, wishing that he could find something to eat already. He dug into his pockets, taking out the single gold coin he had found on his way to the rowboats. It was a reminder to Seamus on how lucky he had been the last few days, since he had avoided death and capture multiple times.

    ¡®The gods must be watching over me.¡¯

    Seamus clenched his fist around the precious coin. He was lucky. Very lucky. He pocketed the coin once he noticed that there were more people walking along the cobblestone path, most of them heading to what seemed like the center of town.

    ¡®Maybe I can find some food there¡­¡¯

    Seamus curiously followed the stream of people, the clouded sun high above his head as noon approached.

    <hr>

    There were way more people in town than James had expected. Most of them were bunched up as they all streamed through the cobblestone streets of Yorktown, all of them having business somewhere and some place.

    James had already lost count of how many times he had been bumped into whilst trying to navigate through. He had to stick close to Dahlia, the shaman taking point as she moved through the crowd like it was nothing.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    ¡°Do all of these people live here?¡± James asked. He nearly dropped the shaman¡¯s rucksack when a large bearded man bumped against him without apology.

    ¡°No, some come from the merchant ships that stop by here, others from their own boats,¡± Dahlia answered, obviously in discomfort as she pushed through the moving crowd of people.

    ¡°This many people? Is it daily?¡± James asked as he followed behind.

    ¡°No. There¡¯s more than usual,¡± Dahlia admitted. ¡°Must be because of Vindis. The floating city usually drifts close to Yorktown from time to time.¡±

    James blinked, unsure if he heard the shaman right.

    ¡®Floating city? How would that work?¡¯

    Before he could ask the shaman about the intricacies of such a thing, James was bumped into by a random stranger. Both men stumbled as a result, the rucksack on James¡¯ shoulder almost dropping onto the cobbled road.

    ¡°Shit!¡± James cursed as he tried to keep his balance steady. The other man wasn¡¯t so lucky. He had fallen onto the ground, nearly becoming trampled by the moving crowd.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± James asked. He tried to help out, but the other man was quick to get on his feet. He was clearly younger than James, his timidness clear in his body language. He had black hair that was roughly shaped like a bowl, giving him a look that screamed ¡®scribe¡¯ or ¡®scholar¡¯. James was clearly taller than him, the difference of height between the two being around seven centimeters.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± the younger looking man apologized. ¡°I¡¯ll be on my way now!¡± he added quickly before he rushed off into the crowd. James was left dumbfounded by the quick interaction. He wasn¡¯t sure what to think or say. Just as he was about to return to Dahlia, he spotted something shiny on the ground.

    ¡°Is that¡­?¡± James leaned down to where the man had fallen. He picked up whatever the man had dropped, his eyes widening as he inspected it. It was a gold coin the size of a quarter, shining as James turned it to the light. While worn out, he could still make out the face of some woman, possibly a Queen, on one side. The other side had a clear Phoenix, its flaming wings nearly rubbed out from time and use.

    ¡°James! Hurry up! We have to get to the marketplace now!¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice snapped James out of his trance.

    ¡°Uh.. yeah, sure. Sorry,¡± James said. He discreetly pocketed the gold coin before following the shaman again.

    <hr>

    ¡°Must be a busy day,¡± Havor muttered as he watched Yorktown¡¯s shore buzz like a bee¡¯s hive, ships and boats all docked by the harbor. He collapsed the spotting glass, handing it to Helen.

    ¡°You think Deimos gives a shit about collateral?¡± Helen asked venomously before storing the glass on her waist belt. Her neck was bruised from before, purple and black hand markings clearly visible on her pale skin. Havor wasn¡¯t sure why Deimos didn¡¯t outright kill her, but he knew better than to question his boss. Speaking of whom¡­

    Havor looked to the left of Frostbite¡¯s railing, spotting Deimos on Bloody Mary¡¯s deck. The chieftain¡¯s main ship was enormous, its size rivaling that of Serpent¡¯s Bane, which now resided somewhere near the bottom of the sea. Bloody Mary was Deimos¡¯ most prized possession, captured from an old king of a forgotten country many years ago. It had a headpiece of a screaming banshee, something that Deimos had custom made. It wasn¡¯t far-fetched to say that Havor felt a bit of fear whenever he looked at the ship.

    ¡°Havor!¡± Deimos shouted, catching the bald marauder off guard. ¡°Get your sails ready. We¡¯ll be heading to the harbor once those ships clear out. Get your archers ready, too. We wouldn¡¯t want any surprises.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir but¡­¡± Havor hesitated a little before daring to ask a question to the terrifying man, ¡°What if the ships don¡¯t clear out by evening?¡± He hoped that he wasn¡¯t going to get an arrow to the jugular.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be gone by the time we move in. That¡¯s if our bandit friends aren¡¯t lying.¡± Deimos¡¯ hand grabbed the hair of one of the lowly pirates they had taken prisoner that morning. The bandit looked like shit, his face red and purple from whatever tactics Deimos had used to make him and his fellow pirates talk.

    The bandit¡¯s ship, if it could be called that, was currently nothing more than driftwood in the waters, ever since Bloody Mary had rammed into it. According to their ¡®captain¡¯, the group of bandits had been terrorizing the small island for a good couple of weeks, threatening them for coins and resources.

    ¡®Lowly trash,¡¯ Deimos had called them, comparing them to nothing more but gulls who prey on scraps and leftovers.

    ¡°Besides, if there are any ships left around, they¡¯ll move when they see us. If they don¡¯t¡­ Well, there¡¯s a reason why we have rams on our ships.¡± Deimos grinned and turned, throwing the bruised bandit to the side as he headed off to get his own ship ready. Havor looked back at the harbor in the distance, which looked like a speck in the distance.

    He sighed and yelled to the crew behind him, ¡°All hands! Ready the sails!¡±

    <hr>

    Seamus wandered the marketplace of Yorktown, his gaze moving from stall to stall. From dingy swords and worn gambesons to goods and spices. Each of them had something to sell, but none of it interested the young man one bit.

    His stomach gurgled in anguish, letting Seamus know that he needed to eat something soon. He was already beginning to feel lightheaded. He silently cursed at himself for not eating back when he was in captivity. While the grog those marauders ate was disgustingly inedible, it would¡¯ve at least given him some form of nourishment.

    Seamus wandered the marketplace, his thoughts in the clouds as he looked around in desperation. He stopped when a certain smell reached his nostrils. It was one that made him involuntarily drool. The young man followed the scent, his hands shoving past the crowd. He didn¡¯t care for the cursing or insults hurled in his direction. He only wanted to get his hands on some actual food.

    Seamus managed to find himself in front of a certain stall, one that had displayed some delicious-looking meat pies. His mouth watered at the sight of the pies, his hands instinctively reaching for them.

    Before he could grab one, his hands were whacked away by a stick. Seamus reeled back in pain and almost yelled a curse.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s ti¨C¡±

    ¡°Piss off!¡± An old woman reprimanded immediately. She brandished her stick as if it was a sword. ¡°I¡¯ll be damned before I let some random vagrant take a pie without paying! Now git!¡±

    ¡°Wait! Wait!¡± Seamus raised his arms in defense. ¡°I¨CI¡¯m a paying customer! I swear!¡±

    The elder raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°Really? I must be going blind then, because I could¡¯ve sworn I saw some low life try to snatch what ain¡¯t theirs!¡±

    ¡°I was¡­ I just¡­¡± Seamus tried to come up with some excuse to justify his rash actions. ¡°How much do you want? I¡¯ll pay for the pie and my stupidity.¡± Seamus really didn¡¯t want any more conflict. Not after everything he had just gone through. He¡¯d rather resolved this quickly and civilly.

    ¡°Hrm,¡± the elderly woman muttered. ¡°Fine. Ten silver for the pie and ten more for being a thieving little rat!¡±

    ¡°What?! That¡¯s double!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the price! Are you gonna pay up or am I going to have to get my hands dirty?¡±

    ¡°Alright! Alright! Twenty silver it is¡­¡± Seamus muttered as he reached into his pocket. The gold coin he had was a Queen piece, worth around fifty silver. Giving in to this lady would mean giving up almost half of it. The logical thing to do was to find another stall. That is, if there was time left.

    The sun was almost down. The marketplace was already clearing out and most of the stalls were already starting to pack up. There was always the tavern, but Seamus didn¡¯t want to risk eating nothing but moldy bread and raw potatoes. He hadn¡¯t had a good meal in weeks. At this point, he¡¯d pay the entire coin for just a decent meal.

    Seamus felt his heart drop at the feeling of nothingness in his pocket. He reached into his other one and dug around, only to feel his finger poke out into the cold air. The coin was gone.

    ¡°No,¡± he muttered disbelievingly. ¡°No no no!¡±

    The old woman before him made a sour face, a sign that she had caught on to Seamus¡¯ dilemma. ¡°No money, no food. Now get out of here!¡±

    ¡°Please! I just need one! I¡¯ll pay you back, promise!¡± Seamus begged. The old woman instead swung her stick at Seamus, shooing the young man away from her stall.

    ¡°Get on out of here! Come back when you actually have some money!¡± She shouted.

    Seamus groaned and grumbled under his breath as he walked off. He could feel how his stomach twisted in on itself, desperate for something to digest. The young man felt helpless as he wandered through the dissipating marketplace.

    ¡°I¡¯ll find a way to survive¡­ I¡¯ve always had,¡± Seamus muttered to himself as he disappeared into the crowd.

    <hr>

    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious¡­¡± James sighed in frustration. He was looking into the sack he had been lugging around, the one that was supposedly filled with Dahlia¡¯s stock. Now that the shaman had sold all of it, James could finally see what laid at the bottom. To his disappointment and frustration, there were two sizable rocks weighing the whole thing down.

    James looked to Dahlia, who was happily counting the silver and gold she had received that day. The two had been visiting shops and tents all day, selling off the shaman¡¯s stock to butchers, doctors, tailors, apothecaries, and even a small adventuring group. James didn¡¯t have time to take in the world around him, nor talk with the many interesting people he had seen around the marketplace and docks. He was only the muscle, carrying Dahlia¡¯s stock and helping her sell it all.

    It had taken a few hours, but they finally managed to sell off everything. In the end, they were left with a couple of bags of coins and two crates of supplies, along with a small barrel of liquor a foreign trader had given to them.

    ¡®And two very big rocks¡­¡¯

    James wasn¡¯t sure what to think. There was no reason for the shaman to even place these in the bag, outside of pushing his arms to their limits.

    ¡®Is she testing me?¡¯

    James dumped the rocks onto the side of the cobbled road. His thoughts ran with questions and possible answers. Dahlia was a magic user. More specifically, a shaman who had dabbled in ritualistic magic. It was only natural that she would want to test and observe James.

    The thought bothered the otherworldly man in a way he couldn¡¯t describe. It almost felt as if he was just some guinea pig, a variable that needed to be stressed and tested.

    ¡°Are you hungry?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± James¡¯ thoughts were interrupted by the shaman¡¯s voice. He almost jumped at the sight of Dahlia, who was now much closer.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been lugging my stock around all day, so you must be starving,¡± Dahlia pointed out. She was carrying the barrel of that foreign brew one of the traders paid with. ¡°Maybe we can have a horn or two of this drink. Make it a fun night.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ Yeah sure,¡± James muttered a response. He was almost happy at the thought of eating something that wasn¡¯t made up of dry crackers and lukewarm water. The thought of good food back at the shaman¡¯s home was quickly accompanied by a grim realization. ¡°We¡¯re going back to the hut, aren¡¯t we?¡±

    The idea of hiking uphill through the forest made his arms and legs ache. James had already exerted himself today, carrying the stock and navigating through the bustling marketplace. That wasn¡¯t even mentioning the fact that he was running on only a couple of hours of sleep.

    ¡°Mhmm,¡± Dahlia hummed as she stacked the barrel on a crate. ¡°I¡¯d rather not waste my coin on a tavern room and moldy bread. Better we go back to my home.¡±

    ¡°Actually.¡± James dug into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the coin he had picked up earlier that day. He brought it out with a grin, showing the shaman the shining piece of currency. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t mind if I pay for it?¡±

    ¡°Is that a¡­?¡± Dahlia¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°That¡¯s a Queen piece. Those are worth fifty silver! Where did you get this?¡± she asked in disbelief before she tried to reach for it.

    James held it high, right outside the shaman¡¯s reach. ¡°You probably wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you.¡±

    Dahlia frowned. ¡°Did you steal it?¡±

    ¡°Of course not! I found it on the ground,¡± James explained.

    Dahlia narrowed her gaze and crossed her arms. The judging look was enough to make James feel an ounce of shame, despite technically telling the truth.

    ¡°I swear!¡± James reiterated.

    Dahlia sighed and her form relaxed. ¡°Fine. Are you sure you want to spend it on a night at the tavern?¡±

    ¡°Why? Is it expensive?¡± James asked as he tucked the coin into his pocket.

    ¡°No. Not at all.¡± Dahlia shook her head as she placed the crate and barrel on James¡¯ open hands. ¡°Just a¡­ different experience is all.¡± She smiled innocently as she picked up the last of her supplies before heading off into the town.

    James stared at her, unsure of what she meant. He was almost beginning to regret suggesting the tavern.

    ¡°Well, it can¡¯t hurt to have a drink over there. Wish me the best of luck, I guess,¡± James murmured to himself before he followed Dahlia.

 Chapter 7: The Outsiders

    Seamus stared down at his mug of water longingly. Drinking it had little to no effect on his lingering hunger. It didn¡¯t help that the patrons around Seamus were eating dinner, the scent of their food enough to make¡­

    ¡°Ugh!¡± Seamus shook off the thought of eating. He needed to figure out a way to survive through the day. He had no coin nor any shelter for the night. Seamus was on his own in this town.

    ¡®If I can just survive the night here. Next merchant ship that comes by, I¡¯m taking it.¡¯

    Seamus could always stow away on another brig. He just needed to get to Vindis or Bernis. There, he could probably contact one of his father¡¯s allies to help.

    ¡°Which was it? Redyr? Villtur?¡± Seamus muttered as he tried to recall which of the major clans were allied closely with his father. The young man¡¯s lack of knowledge was a result of being a recluse most of his life. Seamus hated to admit it but he was a coward who was afraid of leaving home. It left him clueless to most of Valenfrost, so he wasn¡¯t all that familiar with clan politics

    As he contemplated his plan, something had caught Seamus¡¯ attention. Two new patrons had entered the tavern, the people around them going quiet. Seamus focused on the two strangers, almost curious about them.

    The first one was definitely some sort of witch doctor, with weird symbols drawn over her clothes as she wore trinkets made up of small bones. It reminded Seamus of the stories of ritualistic witches and shamans. Still, she wasn¡¯t the one that caught his eye.

    The ordinary-looking man that was behind her was the weirdest of the two. Despite dressing in less than plain clothes, he made Seamus more uncomfortable in a way he couldn¡¯t put his finger on. The stranger was bigger than Seamus, with broad shoulders and a well-built frame. That didn¡¯t bother Seamus, however. No, what did bother him was the foreign aura that emanated from him. It felt as if he was out of place. Like he didn¡¯t belong. It was creepy and almost unnatural.

    ¡®Who are you?¡¯

    Seamus pondered on possibilities as he unknowingly stared at the two. The strange man seemed to notice that he was being watched because he turned to meet Seamus¡¯ stare not long after. They made brief eye contact, causing Seamus to look away.

    ¡®Definitely not going near¨C¡¯

    Seamus¡¯ thoughts were interrupted by a loud growl. He jumped in his seat at the sound, only to realize quickly that it was originating from his stomach. If only to try to satiate himself, he drank from his mug of water. Despite downing most of it, the water had little to no effect.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± Seamus cursed. In frustration, he threw the mug at his own table. Whatever water was left speckled all over the table and the next. The mug itself bounced and soon landed on a nearby patron.

    ¡°Who the fuck?¡± the patron yelled in anger. He stood up, revealing himself to be a tall and burly man. Seamus felt instant regret hit him like a hammer, fear soon blossoming in his chest. He tried to exit his table without getting noticed, but it was already too late.

    ¡°You little rat! Get over here!¡±

    The angry man grabbed and pulled at Seamus¡¯ collar, bringing the young man back towards him.

    ¡°W-Wait! I-I didn¡¯t mean to¨C!¡± Seamus started before he felt the air rush out of his lungs. The man had punched hard into his stomach, sending the young man upwards. For a second, it was almost as if Seamus was flying. Seamus couldn¡¯t help but cough and gasp, the act sending spit flying. It all landed on the other man¡¯s face, which pissed him off even more. Another punch landed, causing Seamus''s eyes to involuntarily tear up as he struggled to breathe and speak simultaneously.

    ¡°P-Please,¡± he managed in desperation. Seamus could only watch as the man pulled back another punch. The young man squeezed his eyes shut, expecting another hit. Nothing came. Seamus opened one of his eyes to see why. The blond man from earlier was holding the attacker¡¯s arm, other his hand clenched into a fist.

    ¡°Let him go,¡± the stranger said, his blue eyes burning into the other man¡¯s gaze. The attacking man growled as he let go of Seamus, letting him hit the floor.

    ¡°This ain¡¯t your business.¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll make it mine. Back off.¡±

    The two men stared each other down, with the witch doctor from earlier trying her best to blend in with the crowd that was forming. Seamus could only watch in disbelief at the encounter, his thoughts going manic.

    ¡®Just who is he? Better yet, why is he getting involved?¡¯

    ¡°One more fight Patrice and I¡¯ll cut you off for good!¡± a voice shouted out. Seamus turned to see a woman behind the bar. Despite the graying hair, she still looked quite young, the wrinkles on her face few. The tavern woman was staring down at the man who had started throwing fists, her expression a mix of anger and disappointment.

    ¡®Patrice¡¯ snarled at the comment, despite not turning to see the tavern woman eye to eye. He instead kept staring at the man who had stepped in, his gaze locked onto his. After a couple more seconds of mean mugging, Seamus¡¯ attacker yanked his arm out of the other stranger¡¯s hold. He huffed and turned away, heading back to his table.

    ¡°Fine. You best watch yourself, stranger,¡± Patrice murmured.

    Seamus¡¯ savior didn¡¯t give an answer. Instead, the strange man turned his focus on Seamus, who had been watching the entire ordeal.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± He asked before he extended his hand to the younger man. ¡°I heard that punch from across the room.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m alright,¡± Seamus managed in a groan. He accepted the help. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to step in¡­¡±

    ¡°Sorry. Couldn¡¯t help it,¡± the stranger gave him a small smile. ¡°You hungry? Dinner¡¯s on me.¡±

    <hr>

    James watched the man called Seamus devour his second bowl of stew, taking little to no breaks between spoonfuls. Dahlia watched with him in fascination, her own bowl still untouched.

    ¡°Never took you as sympathetic enough to get involved in fights,¡± Dahlia commented.

    ¡°What else was I supposed to do?¡± James asked as he looked away. ¡°Does everyone in this world turn a blind eye to unfair fights?¡±

    ¡°We avoid getting into other people¡¯s business,¡± the shaman answered as she played with her spoon. ¡°It usually doesn¡¯t end well for anyone.¡±

    She had a point. James had little to no knowledge about the town and country he was summoned to. Confronting that asshole could have ended very badly for both him and Seamus. For all he knew, he could¡¯ve ended up dead or worse, exposed as an outworlder.

    Dahlia had already mentioned to James how different his pattern of speech and accent was compared to everyone else. Add that with the uncanny valley aura he emitted and James could have very well been mobbed and lynched at the town square.

    ¡®Either that burned at the stake. I can¡¯t tell which is worse.¡¯

    As James contemplated his actions, he brought a spoonful of stew up to his lips. He nearly gagged at the smell and texture, his reflex nearly causing him to flip the bowl.

    ¡®Ugh! How the hell does Seamus eat this?¡¯

    James turned to Seamus, who was still downing his stew. He watched as the young man pinched his nose before pouring the bowl¡¯s contents down his throat. James felt queasy just from looking at it. He thought about skipping dinner, but the growling from his stomach had told him that it wasn¡¯t an option.

    ¡®Just gotta stomach it. Can¡¯t be that bad if you can¡¯t taste it, right?¡¯

    James needed to eat, even if it wasn¡¯t pleasant. After a deep breath, he took Seamus¡¯ example, pinching his own nose before he took spoonful after spoonful of the disgusting broth.

    By the time both men finished up with their bowls of stew, Dahlia was already hailing the bar woman. James could see how she skipped dinner, her hand slowly pushing it away.

    ¡°Not hungry?¡± James asked, amusingly.

    ¡°I¡¯m just not looking to give myself a stomach bug tonight,¡± Dahlia answered with a small smile. ¡°You¡¯re paying, right? You did offer¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah yeah,¡± James dug into his pocket and brought out the gold coin he had found earlier. He placed it on the bar, showcasing the Queen portrait on it. The bar woman whistled loudly as she picked it up, her eyes examining it closely.

    ¡°Pretty thing, no? You an adventurer or what?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Uh¡­¡± James trailed off for a moment, his mind looking for an answer.

    ¡°He¡¯s more like a drifter,¡± Dahlia answered. ¡°First time in Valenfrost, you see.¡±

    ¡°Hm, that explains the accent,¡± the bar woman commented. ¡°I¡¯ll get you the spare silver soon, hon.¡± With that, she walked off to the other side of the bar, leaving the trio of strangers alone. There was an awkward air of silence between them all, their gazes not meeting with each other.

    ¡°So, Seamus,¡± Dahlia started. ¡°Since James here bought your food and drink, would you mind telling us where you¡¯re from? Never seen you around Yorktown before.¡±

    Seamus had been unnaturally silent during the past hour, only speaking his thanks and responding in nods and shakes during the time spent with James and Dahlia. He looked nervous, his eyes darting at the two before they settled on the bar. James couldn¡¯t help but feel bad for him. It was obvious he had been through a rough patch recently. He could see how Seamus rapidly tapped his foot on the floor, his hands wavering like they had no place to rest.

    ¡°Well... I uh¡­ washed up here? No, I was shipwrecked¨CWait, no! I¨CShit¨C¡± Seamus was messing up his words, speaking quickly as he visibly began to panic.

    ¡®He¡¯s freaking out over what to say. What¡¯s he hiding?¡¯

    James attempted to calm the poor guy. He placed both of his hands on Seamus¡¯ shoulders, which seemed to quiet him down instantly.

    ¡°Hey, take a deep breath. Don¡¯t stress it out,¡± James said, trying his best to get Seamus to reveal what he had been trying to hide. The younger man gulped, his green eyes looking down at his drink.

    ¡°I¨C¡± Seamus was interrupted when a man busted through the tavern¡¯s doors, looking bewildered.

    ¡°The bandits are back!¡± The terrified man shouted. His cry caught all the patrons in the tavern off guard, turning the relatively quiet place into a flurry of murmurs and confusion. Everyone around started to talk amongst themselves, their voices overlapping. Some were quick to leave, abandoning their drinks and meals as they rushed out the doors.

    James looked at Dahlia, remembering what she said the other night.

    ¡®Didn¡¯t she say something about bandits threatening Yorktown?¡¯

    He could see how Dahlia¡¯s expression paled as she looked back at James. His hunch was right.

    ¡°Oh shit¡­¡±

    <hr>

    The harbor was mainly clear, which made it easy for Bloody Mary and Frostbite to dock themselves properly. Deimos had ordered for only Havor and Helen to come with him into the town. Everyone else was to stay on the ships for the moment. The chieftain had also told Eli to scry the place and make sure no one tried an escape while Deimos looked for the escaped prisoner.

    The sun was setting as both Havor and Helen climbed down Frostbite¡¯s side, signifying to the two that it was going to get cold very soon.

    ¡°Best we get this done quickly. Don¡¯t want to be freezing my ass off out here,¡± Havor muttered. He breathed in the frosty air as he looked around the mainly empty harbor and docks. The only people around were a few locals and merchants who had decided to stay a bit late.

    ¡°Haste is the root of all mistakes, Havor,¡± Deimos¡¯ voice called out behind the marauder. Havor nearly jumped out of fear, his head quickly turning to the chieftain. Deimos was right by his side, somehow sneaking up on the clueless marauder without so much as making a sound. The marauder leader was wearing his heavily plated armor, complete with a black fur cloak that covered most of it. Havor was certain the pelt was from some poor bear who had crossed into Deimos¡¯ path of destruction. It also looked much warmer than the shitty wool cloaks Havor and Helen wore.

    ¡°Taking it slow doesn¡¯t seem to be working,¡± Havor muttered as the three marauders walked into the town. He could spot locals running off into buildings as soon as they saw the intimidating trio. Blinds were shut and doors were slammed, not a single soul wanting to be caught out in the street.

    ¡°They seem terrified,¡± Helen commented as she looked around the town. The whole settlement looked more like a large village to Havor, as the buildings were small and varied from wooden to stone. Calling it a town was probably generous.

    ¡°They¡¯re cautious,¡± Deimos said simply. He walked through the cobbled street as if he had no care in the world.

    ¡°We¡¯ll try the friendly approach. Tell them that we¡¯re only looking for an escaped convict,¡± Deimos continued, which earned a look from Helen. Havor could tell that she wanted to say something biting, but she thankfully held her tongue. There was no doubt that Deimos wouldn¡¯t hesitate to snap her frail neck.

    Around the marauders, more locals started to show up. They stared at the trio, their expressions mixed. If it was fear or anger, Havor didn¡¯t know. It all looked the same to him. The marauders would soon reach what looked like the town center, more people showing up as they surrounded them.

    ¡°Sir,¡± Havor whispered. ¡°They have us surrounded.¡± Havor wasn¡¯t sure if the town had guards of their own, but he knew better than to go against overwhelming odds.

    ¡°It matters not, Havor,¡± Deimos whispered back, a smile growing on his face. ¡°They won¡¯t try anything stupid,¡± he added, his eyes scanning the crowd of townsfolk as they all murmured and whispered amongst themselves.

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    ¡°Are those the same bandits as last week?¡±

    ¡°Who are they?¡±

    ¡°What the hel do they want?¡±

    Havor heard only bits and pieces of talk as the crowd watched them. They didn¡¯t seem threatening, as most of the townsfolk looked lanky and small, very few of them with any muscle on their bones.

    ¡®I bet they don''t even know how to wield a sword properly.¡¯

    Havor couldn¡¯t help but feel a little more confident now. This was a town of weaklings, filled with incompetent folk. It was a wonder that they hadn¡¯t been raided yet. Havor watched as Deimos stepped forward, a confident smile on his face as he began to address the crowd.

    ¡°People of Yorktown. Do not worry, we aren¡¯t here to pillage or raid your island.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Those aren¡¯t the bandits¡­¡±

    James heard Dahlia whisper as they stepped through the crowd. They both watched on as the cloaked giant spoke in his loud and gentle voice, his height towering over everyone. James could see black plate armor under his fur cloak, along with a red handprint on his chest. Two others just like him stood by his side, wearing black leather armor with a similar red hand on their chests.

    ¡°Who are they?¡± James asked before he turned to the shaman, confused. He could feel a sense of dread dawning on him as she turned back with a look of fear. Before Dahlia could answer, Seamus interrupted.

    ¡°Those are the people who killed my clan,¡± Seamus whispered. His face was pale, and he seemingly shrunk in place, almost as if he was trying to blend in with the ground.

    ¡°Killed your clan?¡± James asked. Despite not knowing much about Seamus or his background, he could tell the young man wasn¡¯t lying.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let them take me, please!¡± Seamus hissed before he grabbed at James¡¯ shirt, his eyes filled with a primal fear. ¡°They¡¯ll kill me if I¡¯m lucky! Please, James!¡±

    ¡°Hey, calm down!¡± James exclaimed in a low voice. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t let them take you. You have my word,¡± he promised. He looked around the crowd to make sure no one around them heard. Thankfully, the crowd seemed to focus their attention on the tall, bearded man, who was still speaking.

    ¡°This person is dangerous, having committed many heinous acts. He is not to be trusted under any circumstances,¡± the man stated, his eyes scanning the crowd. ¡°If he does not reveal himself, we will search this island from top to bottom! We will search every house, every shop, whatever it takes to find this man.¡±

    This caused the crowd to murmur among themselves. It soon turned to arguing and yelling, the commotion giving James an idea.

    ¡°Dahlia, take Seamus to the hut. I¡¯ll go and get your crates, but you need to get him as far away as possible, alright?¡± James kept his voice down. ¡°Hurry, when no one¡¯s paying attention.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna leave you here,¡± Dahlia tried to protest. ¡°Forget the crates, we can¨C¡±

    ¡°Just go!¡± James hissed. ¡°Don¡¯t waste time!¡± That seemed to do the trick. With clear hesitation, both Dahlia and Seamus hurried off. They slipped through the crowd, the duo heading off to the edge of town, where the forest met the settlement wall.

    ¡®Now for the crates¡­¡¯

    Before he could head inside the tavern to retrieve the items, the surrounding crowd went quiet. James turned his focus to the center of the courtyard, where the trio of strangers were facing off against some elderly man.

    ¡°What gives you the right to come to our home and tell us what to do?¡± the old man called out, his voice echoing throughout the town square. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re an emissary from Lumen or a herald from the gods. You have no right to do as you please!¡± The elder shouted, a number of people behind the man yelling their agreement.

    ¡®No no no. Don¡¯t.¡¯

    James wanted to berate their recklessness. Couldn¡¯t they let the town guard handle this? Now that he thought about it¡­

    ¡®Where the hell are the guards?

    James frantically looked around, hoping to see someone with authority step up to stop this. Yet there was no one. The crowd began to grow restless, the people around throwing insults and curses at the armored giant.

    James wasn¡¯t sure why, but he could feel a sense of unease at the cloaked man¡¯s expression. He looked calm, way too calm. It was as if he was in his element.

    ¡®Why does this all look familiar?¡¯

    James was hit with a strange sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu, the entire scene before him seeming like something he had seen before. Yet he couldn¡¯t figure out where. The young man debated on running off from the courtyard, if only to look for a guard to try to stop this. Before he could make that choice, however, a glint of silver caught his gaze.

    The taller man, the one who was in the center of the chaos. James could see something beneath the black fur, its silver head shimmering almost. He recognized it as an ax, one with runes inscribed on its edge. He watched in horror as the armored man unhitched it from his belt, his other hand throwing his cloak back. His full set of armor was revealed, showcasing black steel plates and more glowing runes.

    ¡°Fine. The hard way it is,¡± he called out, just as he prepared his arm.

    ¡®No! No no no!¡¯

    ¡°Stop! Don¡¯t!¡±

    A voice rang out from the crowd, stopping everyone in their tracks. The cold air was still, the only sound being the heavy breathing from the caller. The gazes of everyone turned to James, who just realized it was his own voice.

    He was halfway through the crowd, his hand extended towards the courtyard. Everyone was quiet, the crowd slowly parting around James. He could feel their burning looks on him, the feeling almost disorienting. It felt familiar in a strange way, just like before. A feeling of deja vu. James shook that feeling away and kept his ground, his focus going back on the armored man before him.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t really strike down a harmless old man, would you?¡± James felt his heart beat wildly, his adrenaline pumping through his veins as he tried to shut himself up. ¡°Unless you¡¯re a coward who can¡¯t take an insult!¡± He couldn¡¯t help it. His mouth was moving on its own, regardless of his panicked thoughts.

    ¡®Oh shit oh shit!¡¯

    The bald guy next to the tall man snarled at James before stepping forward, ¡°You little shit! I¡¯ll¨C!¡±

    ¡°Silence, Havor,¡± the ax wielder called out. ¡®Havor¡¯ went quiet almost immediately, his body language changing from agitated to obedient.

    ¡°What is your name, young man?¡± The armored man asked, his right arm hanging placidly at his side. The ax was lightly tapping the cobbled ground, making small tings as its owner awaited a response.

    ¡°Me? I¡¯m just a nobody,¡± James nervously responded. A feeling of recollection hit him this time. Like before, it felt as if he was retreading past steps.

    ¡®Has this happened before?¡¯

    ¡°Nobody, eh?¡± the ax wielder laughed at that. ¡°Amusing. Alright, nobody. You can call me Deimos.¡± he pointed a thumb toward his chest.

    ¡°Deimos,¡± James repeated quietly. ¡°Totally not a sinister name or anything¡­¡± he muttered under his breath.

    ¡°Well, will you defend these people?¡± Deimos called out, breaking the younger man¡¯s thought process. ¡°Despite that foreign accent of yours, it would seem that you want to take a stand against me.¡±

    ¡°If it means protecting these people, sure,¡± James answered. ¡°I¡¯ll take a stand.¡± His response spawned a commotion amongst the crowd, their voices overlapping.

    ¡°It¡¯s been far too long since the last time someone tried to play the hero.¡± Deimos laughed. The joyous tone in his words made James uncomfortable. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t hurt to have some fun with you. Havor, toss him your sword.¡±

    Havor looked at Deimos like he was crazy. He opened his mouth to protest, but he quickly backed down from it. In the end, the bald marauder obeyed his command. He unsheathed his short sword from its scabbard and tossed it to James. It clanged and bounced until it reached the otherworldly man, whose heart was beating out of his chest as he bent over to pick it up.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make it fair to you. I¡¯ll use only my hands to fight you,¡± Deimos stated as he handed his ax to Havor. ¡°It would be over too fast if I used this.¡±

    James was silent as he raised his sword in front of him, mimicking what he had seen in earth media. He could feel its weight as he tried to keep it steady, the experience almost surreal. The otherworldly man was putting himself into a fight, one that he had no chance of backing out of.

    ¡®First day here and I¡¯m already fighting for my life. Fuck me¡­¡¯

    James took a deep breath of the cold air. The sun was nothing more than an orange light in the distance, nighttime already setting in around him. The crowd parted even more as both sides got ready. Deimos¡¯ grin looked sinister under the torchlight from the nearby street posts.

    Just as James attempted to take a step forward, he was hit with a realization. He recognized the scene before him. It hit him with a sense of recollection, one that brought out the fear of god in him. James now knew why he had kept getting those senses of d¨¦j¨¤ vu. He had been through this before.

    ¡®The nightmares¡­¡¯

    It was his nightmares. Recreated in detail. Deimos, the sunset, the way those lights illuminated the scene. The young man remembered now. It all came rushing back into his head like a migraine. It was a premonition of death. Disguised as a nightmare that had haunted him for the past weeks.

    James¡¯ breathing grew quick, the fear tightening his chest in realization. He couldn¡¯t help but feel as if he was going to hyperventilate. This seemed impossible. This was impossible. There was no logical explanation for this. James almost dismissed this as a bad dream in itself. That this entire situation was the result of his car crash.

    ¡®I¡¯m in a coma¡­ None of this is real! This is all some kind of fucked up hallucination!¡¯

    Yet something deep and primal told him that this was real. That he was reliving the same night terror he had been having for weeks. James felt like he was going to throw up. Still, he managed to restrain himself from doing so. He needed to think. His thoughts raced with a way to escape, his eyes searching for a way out of this hellish situation.

    ¡®Dammit! Stop panicking! There¡¯s no use¡­ You can¡¯t back out of this!¡¯

    As much as he hated this, running from the marauder wasn¡¯t going to do him any favors this late into the duel. He didn¡¯t know much about Deimos, but the young man was sure he was the one to hate cowards.

    ¡®Calm yourself! You know what¡¯s going to happen! Best to use it to your advantage! If those dreams are anything to go by, he¡¯s going to attack soon! I have to attack him first!¡¯

    James grabbed at his chest and attempted to get his breathing under control. He needed to focus. If he could use his knowledge to his advantage, there was a way he could get out of this alive.

    ¡®That¡¯s right. I can win this. I can avoid dying. I just need to¨C¡¯

    ¡°Well? Come at me!¡± Deimos interrupted his thoughts. As if on queue, the marauder taunted the young man, his arms wide open. It was exactly how he did it in the nightmare, down to the movements.

    ¡®Attack! It¡¯s now or never!¡¯

    James yelled as he forced himself to charge forth. His hands gripped tightly onto the sword¡¯s handle, his heart racing like crazy. He crossed the courtyard quickly, his arms preparing to swing the blade. He just needed one strike to the head. One simple strike to the marauder¡¯s head.

    ¡®Use everything you got! Don¡¯t waste time!¡¯

    Just as he began to strike, however, Deimos had turned into a blur. James¡¯ initial attack hit nothing but air, missing completely. In that moment of panic, he spotted the marauder leader on his right. Deimos had somehow dodged his attack, his arm preparing a punch.

    James watched from his peripherals, his eyes widening as he felt the marauder¡¯s fist strike his center mass. The impact of the punch sent him rolling on the cold hard street, his chest feeling as if it was hit with the weight of a car. His tumble only stopped when his back impacted with a street post, his sword nearly flying out of his grip.

    For a few painful seconds, James couldn¡¯t breathe. Before panic could set in, he finally gasped, his lungs painfully taking in the cold air.

    ¡®How strong was that punch?!¡¯

    James swore that it was much more damaging than the car crash from yesterday. He could feel how a metallic taste overwhelmed his mouth, forcing him to spit out his own blood. It spattered and stained the freezing ground, the sight nearly traumatizing James.

    ¡®That¡¯s not¡­ That¡¯s not good¡­ Oh god¡­¡¯

    Internal bleeding, broken ribs, possibly a ruptured organ. It felt like all the above for James. He looked back up to try to gauge his situation. His vision was blurred but he could clearly see Deimos¡¯ figure rush him, the marauder¡¯s frightening speed sounding off all the alarms in his head.

    ¡®He¡¯s going for another hit! Dodge!¡¯

    James reacted quickly. He used what little strength he had to push himself to the left, barely dodging the kick that came in a moment later. He felt the air whip violently against him as Deimos¡¯ boot missed his head by a hair. James was more than thankful that he wasn¡¯t on the receiving end.

    ¡®Hit him now! He should be open!¡¯

    James scrambled to his feet again and blindly swung his sword with all his strength. Surprisingly, his sword actually impacted something.

    ¡®Hit!¡¯

    James felt excitement at the feeling of a successful strike, but his emotions soon turned to dread once he saw Deimos¡¯ gauntlet wrapped around the blade.

    ¡®Just who the hell is this guy?!¡¯

    James gritted his teeth and shoved his sword forward. The blade slid through Deimos¡¯ palm and straight into his exposed head. The marauder simply dodged the attempted stab, his other hand grabbing James¡¯ shirt.

    Before James could try to pull away, Deimos head butted him. The young man¡¯s vision was blanketed with a white screen for a few seconds before it returned to being blurry again. He could see how his own blood was speckled all over Deimos¡¯ face.

    ¡°Ugh¡­¡± James managed before Deimos head butted him again.

    Crack!

    There was a ringing in his ears now. James looked dumbly at the blood covered marauder before he fell back, his head impacting against the ground. He looked up at the sky as his ears rang, his thoughts turning into white noise. Still, he could hear how Deimos sighed in disappointment.

    ¡°Really? Is this the best your town can muster?¡± He asked. No response came, but James didn¡¯t have to look to know that the townsfolk were stunned with fear. ¡°I will give you all two days to find and bring me the man I seek. Or else I will burn your entire island to cinders. My ships will watch this island, making sure no one escapes. If you do¡­¡±

    Deimos¡¯ voice drowned out. James was more focused on trying to push through his pain.

    ¡®Have¡­ to get up¡­¡¯

    He slowly moved to pick himself up from the cold ground, every movement accompanied by sharp pains. He could see how Deimos was still facing the crowd, his attention on intimidating them. The marauder didn¡¯t even notice the young man as he rose.

    James slowed down his breathing and gripped his sword tightly as he tried to collect his thoughts. He could run off, get away, and return to the hut. Dahlia could fix him up. Yet his rational side was slowly becoming overwhelmed by another voice.

    ¡®You can kill him¡­ Here and now, he¡¯s open!¡¯

    Deimos was exposed. His marauders weren¡¯t even paying attention to the bloodied man. No one was looking at him. They had discarded him like trash, like he wasn¡¯t worth the effort to look at.

    James felt how his blood boiled underneath his skin, anger filling up his heart just like it had done the day he left earth. He remembered feeling like this when he broke Mike¡¯s nose, back when he had watched the blood fly as a result. This was something akin to bliss, an experience like no other. James chuckled lightly, a small grin appearing on his face as blood ran down his nose and forehead.

    It tasted sweet now, his pain evaporating as he began to lose himself. James welcomed this feeling. This thrill. He took a deep breath of the cold air, his posture straightening. Heartbeats thumped in his ear like a war drum, a rhythm that fueled his excitement. In that haze, he truly believed that he could win. Without a second thought, he rushed towards Deimos, sword raised for a wide strike. He put all his strength into the attack, his yells echoing in the air as he watched the blade fly towards the marauder¡¯s neck.

    As if like lightning, Deimos somehow turned to meet the charging young man. He stopped James¡¯ attempted attack, his hands grabbing and locking the bloodied man¡¯s arms in a hold.

    ¡°Na?ve,¡± Deimos muttered to James, who watched in silent horror as the marauder redirected the blade into his chest, stabbing clear through him. The pain of cold steel biting into his chest snapped the young man out of his bloodthirst, his eyes widening as he looked down at his wound.

    James coughed up blood, feeling the sharp and biting pain of the short sword. He looked up and stared into the unforgiving green eyes of his killer, who didn¡¯t seem to be putting in any effort.

    ¡°Shame that such a spirit like yours has to die like this. You would¡¯ve been a good marauder,¡± Deimos whispered softly. He forced the blade deeper, stopping only when the guard made contact with James¡¯ chest. The dying man didn¡¯t say anything as Deimos dropped his limp body onto the ground.

    James stared into the cloudy gray sky as he slowly began to die. He could do nothing as the darkness came for him, his senses going numb and his vision going blind. Fear engulfed his dying heart as the void came for him, the world around him going pitch black.

    His final thoughts were not of his mistakes, his friends, or his family. No, as heat left his body and blood stained his clothes, James only had one thing on his mind.

    ¡®What were those nightmares? Why¡­ Why did they show me this?

    Right before he lost consciousness, James could swear he could hear a distant laugh echo out in the void. It was a sinister cackle, one that told him that this was something beyond his understanding as a mere mortal.

 Chapter 8: Dead Man Walking

    2

    Deadline

    <hr>

    Seamus was freaking out, close to losing it, as his hands shook uncontrollably.

    ¡°Dammit, Seamus!¡± Dahlia shouted at him as he dropped the corpse¡¯s legs.

    ¡°I-I¡¯m sorry,¡± Seamus apologized in a shaky voice.

    He couldn¡¯t help it. James was fucking dead, his body still warm as the unlikely pair carried it through the forest. Just a bit ago, they were both on their way to Dahlia¡¯s home before she turned back due to hearing a commotion. Both of them had run back to the courtyard, only to see the crowd from before gathering around the center.

    There, they had found James¨Ca short sword through his chest¨Cbleeding out as the townsfolk tried to revive him. Dahlia had managed to convince them to let her take James¡¯ corpse so they could try their luck at her hut. They had to hurry, though, because James was losing heat and blood.

    ¡°Pick up his feet! We don¡¯t have much time!¡± Dahlia hurried Seamus up, who was still trying to calm his nerves. All of a sudden, James coughed, his eyes slowly opening before he gasped for air. Dahlia¡¯s eyes widened.

    ¡°He¡¯s still alive! We have to hurry!¡± She shouted. Seamus nodded and hurried his pace, his feet shimmying around loose rocks and wet snow. As he tried his best not to slip on the steep path, he could hear James try his best to speak.

    The dying man took in a raspy breath but didn¡¯t say anything as he gurgled up blood, the crimson substance running down his cheeks and onto the snowy ground. He didn¡¯t seem responsive, his eyes still staring up at the sky. The shaman looked at Seamus with a worrying look. Time was running out, and they had to hurry.

    The duo quickened their pace, with Seamus hoping to Delphine that the dying man would stay conscious enough. Snowfall had begun only an hour ago, piles of snow slowly appearing as they carried him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you die! Fuck!¡± Dahlia seemed close to losing it, her eyes wide with fear. As the shaman tried to keep James awake, Seamus could see the faint outline of what looked like a hut, snow piling onto its sloped roof.

    ¡°I can see it! Hurry!¡± Seamus exclaimed, which seemed to quicken their pace. He hoped that they would arrive in time before James bled out and died.

    ¡®This is all my fault. I¡¯m the reason he¡¯s like this. Oh gods.¡¯

    ¡°He lost consciousness! Hurry!¡± Dahlia shouted, just as they managed to reach the hut. The two burst through the door, carrying James¡¯ body as they rushed inside. The hut¡¯s interior was thankfully lit up by a small fire burning in the corner, the flames flickering weakly as a cold breeze went in through the door.

    ¡°Set him down here!¡±

    Dahlia guided Seamus as they lowered James¡¯ dying body onto the ground, where his blood started to pool slowly. The shaman quickly moved to shut the door behind them, leaving the two men at the center of the room. Seamus looked down at the dying man, his eyes focusing on the hilt of the short sword that was protruding from his chest.

    He noted how much blood there really was, as it stained James¡¯ entire shirt and was covering Seamus¡¯ hands and torso. The young man had to restrain himself from passing out at the sight of it all. He had to focus on saving James.

    Dahlia was busy rummaging through one of the two chests in the hut, throwing random stuff as she murmured to herself.

    ¡°Seamus! I need you to pull out that sword now!¡± She exclaimed as she stood up again, a weirdly shaped chalk in her hand. She proceeded to draw with the chalk, drawing runes and symbols on the wooden floor around James. Dahlia looked up from her work to glare at Seamus once more.

    ¡°Now!¡± She shouted. Seamus gulped and did as he was told. His hands trembled as he gripped onto the short sword¡¯s handle. He tightened his grip, trying to pull the blade out. James winced in response, more blood flowing from the wound as Seamus pulled.

    ¡®I have to do it quickly to make sure he doesn¡¯t feel much pain.¡¯

    Seamus swallowed and took a shaky breath of the cold air. Then, without hesitation, he yanked the sword out of James in one go. Crimson speckled everywhere as a result, followed by James¡¯ pained screaming.

    ¡°Oh gods,¡± Seamus whispered in horror as more blood pooled around James.

    ¡°Help me stop the bleeding!¡± Dahlia shouted before she threw her chalk away to tend to James.

    Seamus attempted to slow down the constant bleeding, his hands moving to cover the gaping wound. Dahlia uncorked a small potion bottle before slowly pouring the contents into James¡¯ mouth.

    ¡°It won¡¯t be enough to fully heal him,¡± she muttered as Seamus applied pressure, ¡°but it¡¯ll replenish some of his lost blood, keep him alive for a little longer.¡±

    ¡°What do we do?¡± Seamus asked. There were few things that can heal a hole through one¡¯s chest, none of which were possible in a shaman¡¯s hut.

    ¡°Just keep him alive long enough,¡± Dahlia vaguely muttered. Without another word, she stood back up and went back to drawing symbols around James.

    Seamus hoped she would hurry because he knew that he was going to pass out any second from the horrific sight. He had forced himself to look away while he put pressure on James¡¯ chest.

    ¡®Please hurry!¡¯

    After what seemed like forever, Dahlia finally finished with whatever she had been doing. Seamus looked at all the runes drawn around him and James, all of them fitting into the carved circle on the floor.

    ¡°Let me take over,¡± Dahlia muttered as she shoved Seamus aside. He was more than happy to get out of the way.

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± Seamus asked. He could hear the tinge of fear that came with his words. It was for good reason, too. James was nearly dead, his face pale and an ungodly amount of blood surrounding his body. In his point of view, there was no way in hel he could be saved.

    ¡°I need you to get as far away as possible,¡± Dahlia warned. Seamus hesitantly stepped away, pressing himself against the wall of the hut.

    Dahlia took a deep breath, her hands shaking as she unsheathed her dagger, the engravings of which glinted in the low light. She whispered something softly to the dagger, causing it to glow a soft white. After that, she started to chant, the words sounding foreign and ancient as she stood above James¡¯ body.

    Seamus watched as the surrounding runes slowly began to glow a dim blue. They seemed to brighten at every word Dahlia chanted out, lighting the hut in its blue glow. The ritualistic chanting slowly got louder, Dahlia¡¯s voice raising as the hut got colder.

    The runes around Dahlia brightened to the point of nearly blinding everyone. Seamus shut his eyes tightly for a moment, the brightness dying down almost immediately after.

    He slowly opened his eyes and saw how the entire room nearly went dark. The fireplace was out, the flames dead despite its logs half burnt. The once glowing runes on the ground were also dead, leaving the hut in near darkness.

    The only light in the hut was that of Dahlia¡¯s dagger, which now glowed a soft blue. Without a word, the shaman climbed over James¡¯ body, her hands raising the glowing dagger high.

    ¡°What are you¡­?¡± Seamus started. The young man wouldn¡¯t be able to finish. He instead watched in horror as Dahlia plunged the dagger deep into James¡¯ chest, making a sickening sound that echoed throughout the room.

    The ritual site exploded in magical feedback to the action, sending objects flying. Seamus didn¡¯t have time to react as he was blinded once again, his body thrown back against the wall, where he was suddenly knocked out.

    <hr>

    James was looking at oblivion, his body seemingly floating in what he assumed was water. There was nothing but darkness surrounding him. It was confusing and jarring to him. Just a minute ago, he was staring at the cloudy night sky, which had faded away into the same darkness he was looking at. James had regained his vision a second after that due to the overwhelming pain he had felt. It was then and there when he saw Dahlia raise her glowing dagger, the same one she had always kept on her.

    James had watched in silent shock as she stabbed him with the dagger, the act of which sent him back to this void. He had been lying here for a while now as the darkness swirled around him. He frowned before sitting up to look around. Despite being in an oblivion of pitch black, he could see. He saw how the inch-high water extended forever, with only the void in the distance.

    ¡°Where am I?¡± James asked himself. He quickly realized he was unable to think. No matter how hard he tried, James could only speak his thoughts aloud.

    ¡°What the hell?¡± He asked again before looking around the prison he was trapped in. ¡°Is this¡­ my mind?¡± He wondered out loud. It was a strange thing, not being able to think in silence anymore.

    ¡°It would only make sense¡­ I can¡¯t think of any thoughts,¡± James sighed, still unconvinced. ¡°Then how did I end up here? I have never seen this place before,¡± he thought aloud again before spotting a small figure in the distance. James blinked in surprise at the figure. He started walking slowly to the anomaly in this void, which was as still as a statue.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± He asked. He stopped his walk once he got a better view of the stranger. It was a man, ripped cloak partially covering his bloody steel armor as he looked off into the distance. He had short black hair, which looked to be drenched in sweat and blood. His face was pale, almost like he had seen a ghost.

    ¡°Or lost a lot of blood,¡± James muttered aloud, stepping a bit closer.

    ¡°Kill¡­ Kord,¡± the man suddenly murmured, which caused James to jump.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked, to which the man responded, his eyes meeting with his gaze.

    ¡°Who are you? Where is Kord?¡± The stranger asked suddenly, anger in his voice. He turned to James, giving the young man a better view of his mangled and bloody armor. Before James could answer, a sudden pain came over his head, like someone had drilled into his skull. It seemed to happen to the other man as well, who doubled over in pain. Both men were soon on their knees, screaming as they both clutched their heads.

    <hr>

    ¡°Seamus! Hold him down!¡±

    Dahlia¡¯s shouts seemed to wake up the young man, who groaned as he rubbed his head. Seamus¡¯ vision cleared as he saw what was happening. James was thrashing around, screaming as he clutched his head. Dahlia was trying to restrain him, but the once dying man was somehow able to resist her attempts. He was even throwing the shaman around as he screamed.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°I¡¯m coming,¡± Seamus groaned before he joined Dahlia¡¯s attempts in trying to hold down the revived man. James would thrash like crazy, his arms throwing the young man back a couple of feet. The act nearly knocked him out.

    ¡®For a man who was on the verge of death ten minutes ago, he sure seems to be lively,¡¯

    Seamus gritted his teeth and tried again, this time putting all of his weight onto James as he tried to hold him down. After a few seconds of this, the other man finally stopped screaming, his body going limp as Seamus finally managed to get on top of him. The young man sighed in relief and took a better look at James. His shirt was soaked in blood and ripped, but his wound was miraculously gone.

    ¡°What did you do to him?¡± Seamus asked. Before he could get an answer, however, James¡¯ eyes suddenly opened, his retinas burning a bright blue. His hand shot up right after, grabbing Seamus¡¯ neck. James scowled as he stared into Seamus¡¯ frightened eyes, an ethereal voice coming out of his throat.

    ¡°Don es? Ubi est Kord?¡± James asked, his voice deeper and with a hint of anger.

    ¡°W-What?¡± Seamus asked, terrified as James¡¯ eyes burned brighter, almost blinding him.

    ¡°Ubi est Kord?!¡± He shouted again, spittle flying out of his mouth. Seamus tried to come up with an answer, but it would prove to be fruitless, as James¡¯s grip suddenly went limp. The blue glow in the other man¡¯s eyes died, his entire body falling back onto the floor right after. As soon as James¡¯ body hit the ground, Seamus scurried away, trying to get as far away as possible. He looked at Dahlia, who seemed just as shaken as him.

    ¡°What the fuck was that?!¡± Seamus shouted. He could feel his rapid heartbeat in his ears.

    ¡°It could be a couple of things,¡± Dahlia murmured. ¡°But if I¡¯m right about my hunch, we¡¯re looking at something bad¡­ Something really bad.¡± Seamus could see how the shaman kept her dagger close, the implications striking fear into him.

    ¡°Let¡¯s¡­Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s not that,¡± Seamus stammered before he pressed himself against the wall. He tried to get his breathing under control, unsure of what to make of this.

    One thing was certain, however. This was going to be a long night.

    <hr>

    The spirit fought with the young man, trying to regain control of the body he had woken up in. Just a second ago, he had awoken in the world of the living again, trying to figure out what had happened.

    Instead of waking up in the war-torn city he had just been in, the spirit had instead found himself being restrained by a young man, which he didn¡¯t take lightly. Just as the spirit had attempted to interrogate the terrified stranger, he was violently pulled from the body¡¯s control, forcing him back into the mindscape he had woken up in. The two souls fought for control of the body, their minds clashing. It caused them both unbelievable pain whenever they had clashed, but each one was determined for control.

    Both fought for what seemed like an eternity, every clash resulting in agony and restraint. It wasn¡¯t long before the inevitable happened. In the end, both sides tired each other out, with the young man calling a truce. The spirit obliged, as none of them wanted to feel the pain of clashing again.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± The man had asked, confused on why the spirit was there in the first place.

    The spirit wasn¡¯t honestly sure. He tried searching through his memory in an attempt to find an answer. However, there was barely anything resembling a memory. Instead, there were only instincts and vague recollections that he himself barely recognized. One name stood out however, and the spirit decided to take it as his own.

    ¡°My name is Faust,¡± he said to the other man. Hearing his own voice speak out the name sounded right.

    The blond-haired man gave him a slight smile. ¡°Nice to meet you, Faust¡­ I¡¯m James,¡± he introduced himself back.

    The two had somehow managed to strike a companionship, forged through the pain and clashing of souls. It wasn¡¯t anywhere near a friendship, but it was enough for them to stop fighting. For now.

    <hr>

    The man named Faust didn¡¯t seem to be in the mood for clashing anymore, which gave James a moment of rest and time to think. One thing was certain, the young man¡¯s body was home to two souls, a fact that boggled him.

    ¡°How the hell did this happen?¡± James wondered to himself. He glanced at Faust, who wandered around the mindscape. The spirit still wore his battered armor and bloody clothes, making him look like some wandering ghost. Faust obviously didn¡¯t remember anything past his name. He didn¡¯t know who ¡®Kord¡¯ was.

    ¡°What¡¯s the last thing you remember before waking up here?¡± James asked. He sincerely hoped that he could get some context.

    Faust stopped his mindless wandering, seemingly thinking.

    ¡°Blood,¡± he said softly, ¡°The sky and ground¡­ spinning.¡± he suddenly winced and clutched his head, ¡°and the name Kord,¡± Faust said through gritted teeth. ¡°I was supposed to kill him¡­ but¨C¡± James suddenly felt a sharp pain course through his brain, the feeling forcing him and Faust to double over in pain.

    ¡°Ok,¡± James groaned as the pain subsided. ¡°Let¡¯s not do that again.¡± He stood up straight and looked around in the abyss. With some effort, he could probably take control again. Still, it would probably mean another power struggle between him and Faust again. He had to find a way around that.

    James pondered over this, closing his eyes as he tried to imagine what the rest of his own mind looked like. He imagined it like a house, sections of it representing parts of his mind. They were currently in the ¡®Attic,¡¯ overlooking the rest of the house, but not in control of it. Maybe if he put Faust in a different part of the house? Somewhere where he doesn¡¯t have control.

    ¡°Faust, I¡¯m gonna have to ask you a favor.¡±

    <hr>

    James groggily woke up, feeling disorientated as he opened his eyes. He tried to stand up, only to find himself tied to the chair again. His sudden movements were enough to tip over in the chair, causing the man to hit the cold ground hard. James groaned, his eyes settling on the dried blood on the wooden floor.

    ¡°I¡­ I have so many questions about last night,¡± he muttered. ¡°But first¡­ why am I tied up?¡± James looked around the room before feeling his body suddenly seize out of control, his arms flexing as he tried to break free from his bindings. He could feel the instinctive attempt of the spirit inside him to take control.

    ¡®Really, man?¡¯

    James could feel the spirit quickly give up before he forced Faust back into the basement.

    ¡®It was worth a try,¡¯ an ethereal voice rang out in his head, which felt strange and foreign.

    James had Faust go into his mind¡¯s ¡®basement¡¯ so he couldn¡¯t try to take over his body again. Still, the spirit had lashed out involuntarily due to his baser instincts, not being comfortable in a position of helplessness.

    James sighed and strained against his bindings. ¡°Seamus? Dahlia?¡± He called out before hearing footsteps behind him.

    ¡°He¡¯s finally awake,¡± Seamus¡¯ voice spoke out, tired and exhausted as he came into view. Seamus looked like hell, dark circles under his eyes as well as a bruised neck.

    ¡°What the hell happened?¡± James asked. He barely remembered anything after Deimos had stabbed him, only recalling the snow and the night sky before he woke up in the void that was his mindscape. Seamus frowned, looking genuinely confused.

    ¡°You did this, don¡¯t you remember? You were screaming something in a different language, and your eyes were all¡­ weird!¡± Seamus shouted, his hands making gestures.

    ¡°It¡¯s been a long night,¡± Dahlia cut in, interrupting the younger man¡¯s vague explanations as she stepped into view.

    The unlikely duo went on to explain the rest of the night to James. They recapped the events after his failed duel with Deimos, explaining how the two found him in the courtyard. After that, they dragged him up the steep forest to the shaman¡¯s hut. There, Dahlia had performed some sort of ritual to try to revive him.

    Apparently, it worked, but it had resulted in James fighting Dahlia and Seamus off as they tried to calm him down. The situation had worsened to the point where they had to tie him to the chair and watch him the whole night.

    James was mortified. He didn¡¯t realize that his clashes with Faust had caused his body to react the way it did. The simple fact that this could have ended badly almost made him want to scream at the spirit.

    ¡®In my defense, I was acting out of confusion and instinct,¡¯ Faust said defensively.

    ¡®We¡¯ll talk about it later,¡¯ James shot back at the spirit.

    Conversing with Faust was a strange experience. It almost felt like he was thinking to himself. James felt weirded out at the fact that a spirit was living in his body. That and the fact that Faust could hear his every thought and see whatever he saw. He shivered at the realization. It was too early for this shit.

    ¡°Can you just cut me loose?¡± James asked. ¡°I promise I won¡¯t start seizing out like last night¡­ I can explain it all.¡±

    ¡°Then, explain,¡± Dahlia said. James could see how exhausted and bloodshot she looked. ¡°Unless we¡¯re sure the ritual worked, you could just be a spirit impersonating James.¡±

    James sighed, feeling a headache coming on. ¡°Fine. Can you at least sit me upright? This dried blood is really unsettling¡­ and sticky.¡±

    After Dahlia sat James upright, he started to explain his side of the story. He told them everything that had happened after they had left the courtyard. How he managed to rope himself into a duel with Deimos and how the marauder chieftain drove a sword through his chest. He also mentioned the two days Deimos gave the island before he returned.

    James made sure to omit the part when he recognized the entire duel from his past dreams. The fact he still couldn¡¯t win the fight with that in mind was nightmarish and further proved how much of a threat Deimos was.

    ¡°You idiot! Do you have any idea how close you were to dying?!¡± Dahlia had shouted, with James nodding in return.

    ¡°It was stupid, I know,¡± James responded. ¡°I just¡­ lost myself there.¡± Losing himself was an understatement. James had turned into a completely different person, his rationale thrown out the window. The anger he felt¡­ it was nothing like he had felt before.

    ¡®I know that feeling. Blood tastes sweet, and the pain starts to feel good,¡¯

    Faust¡¯s voice rang through his head. He spoke with a hint of nostalgia, despite not being able to remember anything.

    ¡®Adrenaline can overtake the mind and turn even the most rational of men into mindless brutes. Perhaps you should learn to control yourself before you get yourself into another fight.¡¯

    James ignored the spirit¡¯s words. He didn¡¯t want a lesson in control from a spirit that had tried to kill both his friends.

    Without acknowledging Faust any further, James continued his retelling of last night. He told his side of what happened after Dahlia and Seamus had found him, about how he woke up in the mindscape after watching the shaman stab him in the chest. He told them about the spirit, how they had clashed for what seemed like forever before they had come to terms.

    ¡°You both came to terms?¡± Dahlia asked almost immediately. There was a tinge of curiosity in her voice.

    ¡°Not really¡­ but yeah?¡± James responded.

    Dahlia got uncomfortably close, her stare intense and unsettling. James reflexively pulled his head back, his own gaze locking onto her amber irises.

    ¡°Uh¡­?¡±

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t supposed to happen. At least, to my understanding,¡± Dahlia muttered. Without warning, she grabbed at James¡¯ jaw, keeping his head in place as she examined his face.

    ¡°Wait, so is he compromised or¡­?¡± Seamus asked. He made a confused expression at the shaman¡¯s examination of James. ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°What happened was James and the spirit I summoned are sharing the same body,¡± Dahlia explained. There was a noticeable hint of excitement in her voice. ¡°From my knowledge¡­ this has never happened before!¡±

    The shaman pulled away and ran off to grab something from her chest, leaving the two men very confused.

    ¡°Wait, what would¡¯ve happened if we didn¡¯t come to terms?¡± James asked, genuinely worried.

    ¡°Then you would¡¯ve died. Or the spirit would¡¯ve possessed you fully, but apparently, neither one happened!¡± Dahlia shouted as she rummaged through her items.

    ¡°Died?! Possessed me fully?!¡± James couldn¡¯t help but raise his voice. ¡°What exactly were you planning to do?¡±

    ¡°It was the only way I could get a chance to revive you,¡± Dahlia called back before she pulled out a small journal. ¡°I was hoping for a possession, so I could banish the spirit from your body later on when you finally healed.¡± she said as she wrote furiously in her journal.

    ¡°What?¡± James asked, confused and slightly terrified.

    ¡°I was planning to use the spirit to keep you alive long enough to find a way to heal your wounds¡­then banish it whenever I found out how to stitch you up,¡± Dahlia explained, her eyes glued to the journal. James blinked, realizing the situation.

    ¡°Wait¡­are you saying if the spirit leaves my body then...¡± He started before Seamus finished his sentence, a grim look on his face.

    ¡°Then your wounds from before come back¡­and you die.¡±

    James felt the blood drain from his face as he heard Seamus. James and Faust were stuck with each other, with no way of separating without resulting in the former¡¯s death.

 Chapter 9: No Better Option

    James examined his chest wound where Deimos had impaled him. Just last night, it had been a gaping wound, one that seeped blood like an overflowing bathtub. Now, it was reduced to a faint scar, its position right where his heart was. The sight was eerie, terrifying almost. James was so close to death, his life held together by a foreign spirit from another world.

    ¡°Best not to think about it,¡± James muttered. He buried that thought into the recesses of his mind, putting right next to his nightmares and the idea of being summoned from earth. He was going to go mad if he kept thinking about those things. For now, he needed to focus on surviving the next two days.

    James pulled on his white shirt from earth, its cotton material much more comfortable than the itchy wool tunic he had on yesterday. The clothes he wore before were currently sitting in the corner of the hut, bloodied and ripped from the eventful night. Since Dahlia had no spare clothes in his size, the otherworldly man had to go back to his earthly attire. James didn¡¯t complain. He was more than happy to embrace the comfort of his old outfit.

    That included his gray bomber jacket, which kept him warm and comfortable. Despite getting it from a Walmart clearance sale, James was more than happy with it. His jacket kept him warm and comfortable. It also gave him more pockets than what he knew what to do with. It was always an added bonus for him.

    As he slipped the last of his clothes on, he caught sight of his father, which seemed to judge him from its corner. James didn¡¯t know what to do with his father¡¯s ashes, since there really wasn¡¯t a safe place to put them. He looked around, making sure no one was around. He knelt next to his dad¡¯s urn, wiping some dust off of its exterior.

    ¡°Dad?¡± James asked softly. ¡°I¡¯m gonna leave you here in Dahlia¡¯s hut for a while. It¡¯s too risky to take you with me, so you¡¯re gonna have to stay here. When I find the time, I¡¯ll get you a proper place to rest, all right? Sit tight.¡± He hoped that he would have the chance to keep his promise.

    ¡®How heartfelt,¡¯ Faust commented.

    ¡®Shut up.¡¯

    James was already getting sick of the spirit inside of his head. Faust had been nothing but annoying and invasive, his being seeping into the young man¡¯s mind. The dead man had no sense of privacy when it came to boredom. He had invaded private thoughts and recollections without consent, commented on what he shouldn¡¯t have, and gave unwanted advice.

    James had to bury memories and personal thoughts in order to keep some sense of privacy. He was already getting sick of another soul living in his body. It didn¡¯t help that the two were stuck together for the time being. Hell, there was a chance they were stuck together forever.

    ¡®I don¡¯t like this situation either, Holter,¡¯ Faust muttered. ¡®Do you believe I enjoy being in this weak vessel?¡¯

    ¡®Keep out of my damn thoughts. As long as you¡¯re inside my head, you¡¯ll behave yourself.¡¯

    James could feel how Faust shifted inside of him, the spirit¡¯s voice getting angrier.

    ¡®I can still take your body, you insolent little¨C¡¯

    James shoved Faust deep into the back of his mind, interrupting the spirit¡¯s dialogue almost immediately.

    ¡®This is my body, Faust! Unless you want another round of painful clashing, you¡¯ll behave and keep to yourself!¡¯

    The spirit went silent right after, his presence near unnoticeable. James sighed and rubbed at his temple. He was getting sick of this. Despite their ¡®companionship,¡¯ both souls were currently at odds with each other. Still, James was almost thankful that Faust was smart enough to realize that he was at a disadvantage. If the spirit took the young man¡¯s body, he would have to deal with Dahlia and Seamus. It was a two on one, not counting James if he tried to fight back in another clashing contest.

    The most logical thing he could do was to keep quiet and watch from the sidelines. While not ideal, James was almost certain Faust was more interested in remembering his past rather than taking over the body of a malnourished twenty-five-year-old.

    James looked to the door to the outside, where the daylight was seeping through from. He took a deep breath and prepared himself for the impending question that was bound to come up when he exited the hut. Once he was ready, James zipped up his jacket, made sure his pants were on right, and headed out of the shaman¡¯s home.

    As expected, Seamus and Dahlia were outside. Looks of hesitance were painted on their faces, their gazes on the ground and trees around. James shared the sentiment. After all, the man known as Deimos was due to return in two days, his focus on raiding the island and capturing Seamus.

    James now knew firsthand how truly fucked they were, his duel with the marauder chieftain giving him an idea of what would happen should they resist. Not to mention the two shipfuls of marauders ¡®ready to burn everything down¡¯, according to Seamus¡¯ exact words. There were only two choices for the town, both of which James didn¡¯t even want to consider.

    The first choice was to hold the marauders off, to resist and fight back. This option was borderline suicidal since they were dealing with one of the more dangerous groups of people in Valenfrost. Seamus himself had been a victim to that and was a firsthand witness to their brutality. Not only was that problem enough, but James doubted any of the townspeople of Yorktown would even consider fighting. If anything, they were probably forming a witch hunt in the town, all in search of the refugee that had escaped marauder hands.

    That brought them to the second option, the ¡®reasonable¡¯ one. Of course, the option was to turn Seamus in to the marauders. James didn¡¯t even want to consider that one. It went against every instinct he had, every moral he was taught. If his father even saw him considering such a move¡­

    ¡®Besides, I seriously doubt Deimos is the type to keep his word. I saw those eyes. Nothing but pure bloodlust,¡¯

    Turning Seamus in would do nothing to spare the town. James was sure of it.

    ¡°James, we need to talk,¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice cut his thoughts off.

    James turned to the shaman, who was slowly approaching him. Both she and Seamus looked worried, the tone between them grim. Earlier that morning, after they had freed James, they all had spoken about the Deimos issue. James had already voiced his opinion on the matter, but the other two couldn¡¯t come up with a consensus, resulting in them going outside to think and discuss.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    ¡®I really hope they didn¡¯t go for the second option.¡¯

    ¡°You¡¯re not seriously considering turning Seamus in?¡± James asked. He noted the way Seamus was avoiding eye contact. It looked as if he was trying his best not to show a reaction. It only made James worry even more.

    ¡°Of course not!¡± Dahlia responded. Her answer gave the other man a sense of relief. It was quickly whisked away soon after. ¡°But I¡¯m not considering the first option either. James, we can¡¯t fight the marauders. Even if we had the entire town on our side, we probably wouldn¡¯t stand a chance,¡± she sighed, rubbing her forehead. ¡°We can¡¯t even leave the island since they¡¯re obviously watching the island.¡±

    ¡°I know it¡¯s just¡­¡± James sighed in frustration. He wondered if there really was another option, one that can solve everything. Back on earth, he had always tried to find a third option to situations, whether it¡¯d be in real life or in those RPGs Nick made him play. It was a force of habit to always look for another choice.

    ¡®But this isn¡¯t earth¡­ or a video game.¡¯

    His thoughts prompted Faust to ask in confusion,

    ¡®What are you talking about?¡¯

    ¡°Just something stupid,¡± James muttered out loud. His response caught the attention of the shaman.

    ¡°Talking with the spirit?¡± Dahlia asked suddenly. The shaman had been barraging James with questions about Faust, his memories, and how it felt having an ethereal spirit living in his body. James¡¯ go to answer had been ¡®Not fucking fun,¡¯ but it didn¡¯t seem enough to quell her curiosity.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± James answered tiredly, rubbing his eyes. Despite being passed out for nearly all of last night, he still didn¡¯t get enough sleep. ¡°Is there anyone on this island that can help? Anyone who has some experience in this type of situation?¡±

    ¡°No¡­ No one in that town would help us.¡± Dahlia shook her head. ¡°They¡¯ll turn Seamus in without a second thought after seeing what Deimos did to you,¡± she grimly stated, her gaze moving to the snowy ground.

    James could see how Seamus had turned pale at her response. The thought of going back to those marauders obviously shook him. James could feel a pit forming in his stomach. He was sick at the thought, too.

    ¡°Except¡­ there might be one person who can help,¡± Dahlia slowly started before she looked back at James. ¡°There¡¯s this hermit across the island, opposite of Yorktown. He¡¯s an old veteran from the Outsider Wars, been here for as long as I can remember. He has been isolated from everyone for years now, but I''m sure he can help.¡±

    Dahlia¡¯s eyes averted to the hut. ¡°We¡¯ll need to pack supplies for the journey. The island is small, but the terrain makes it a pain to navigate. Not to mention the seemingly endless forest¡­¡± she rambled on about what they needed, but James was thinking about what she had said earlier.

    The Outsider Wars. A conflict that was apparently so ingrained in this world that Dahlia mentioned it without explanation. James had to remind himself once again that he knew nothing about this world, and that he¡¯ll need to learn more about it sooner than later.

    ¡®Knowledge is power.¡¯

    He could feel Faust do something akin to an approving nod in an ethereal sense.

    ¡°If it means a possible third option then we should get moving as soon as we can,¡± James responded. He knew that time wasn¡¯t on their side, so it would pay to get this done as fast as possible. Dahlia and Seamus didn¡¯t seem too excited, but both didn¡¯t object.

    ¡°All right, but let me prepare some supplies for the trip. We might need to camp out there if we can¡¯t get back on time,¡± Dahlia said. She headed off into her hut, leaving both Seamus and James to themselves.

    As the two men stood around quietly, James noticed something off about Seamus. At first, he assumed it was the strange foreign feeling everyone in this world emitted. He soon realized that wasn¡¯t the case. Upon focusing on Seamus, James could see what it was that caught his eye. Seamus¡¯ hands were shaking. It was sporadic and barely noticeable, yet it was there. It was clear that the younger man was filled with a terror that shook him to the core.

    James could almost relate in a way, since he too had been subject to indescribable fear and terror. Both in the nightmares he had suffered from and the duel from last night. He almost shuddered at the memory of Deimos¡¯ inhuman strength and speed.

    ¡®Best to ask if he¡¯s doing fine.¡¯

    ¡°Are you all right?¡± James asked, looking over at the young man. Seamus didn¡¯t seem to acknowledge him at first, his eyes focused out into the distance.

    ¡°Seamus?¡± James asked again, a little louder this time. Seamus seemed to snap out of it, his eyes blinking as he looked over at James.

    ¡°Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts,¡± Seamus murmured. James could see how he clenched his shaking hands into fists. He pretended not to notice and averted his gaze to the snowy trees around them.

    ¡°Yeah. I do that too sometimes,¡± James spoke. There was another awkward pause between the two.

    ¡°Dahlia told me about your situation,¡± Seamus mentioned. ¡°A stranger from another world. Summoned here by accident.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem that surprised,¡± James pointed out. Seamus was calm and put together. It looked as if he was taking this information pretty lightly. It confused James. Dahlia herself had freaked out to some degree when she figured it out. Yet Seamus¡¯ reaction was lukewarm at best.

    ¡°To be completely fair, I¡¯ve been through a lot these past weeks,¡± Seamus admitted. ¡°An Outlander such as yourself isn¡¯t at the top of my priorities or fears. If anything, your presence here is comforting in a way. It reminds me of those old stories, the ones about heroes summoned from foreign worlds.¡±

    ¡°Old stories?¡± James furrowed his brow, curiosity overtaking him. ¡°You mean there were others?¡±

    ¡°No, those were myths, James,¡± Seamus shook his head. ¡°Stories made up by parents trying to put their children to sleep. From what I can guess, those legends were probably about people from the continent of Kasan and Areno. Far-away lands that were already other worlds back then.¡± he shrugged.

    James stared at Seamus for a bit, trying to process what he had said.

    ¡®Those were some names I didn¡¯t recognize. I should ask about them later. When it isn¡¯t so awkward.¡¯

    ¡°Do you really think we can take them? The marauders,¡± Seamus asked after a long silence.

    James shrugged, not really sure himself. ¡°Do you really think they¡¯ll keep their word if we turn you in?¡± He asked back, looking over Seamus. The younger man took a long time to answer, his eyes focused on a random tree.

    ¡°I know they won¡¯t,¡± Seamus answered simply. There was conviction in his voice, the kind that more than assured James that he wasn¡¯t lying in the slightest.

    ¡®What has he been through?¡¯

    James wondered what Seamus had to go through to be so certain that the marauders would never keep their word. Then again, James only had to fight Deimos to know what he was more than capable of.

    ¡°All right, I think we¡¯re ready!¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice rang out from inside the hut. She finally emerged from the hut, two rucksacks in tow. She plopped them both in front of the two men. ¡°One for each of you. If you two really think I¡¯m gonna carry all the equipment, you¡¯re insane.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have to come, right?¡± Seamus slightly raised his hand. ¡°Truth be told, I haven¡¯t slept for days,¡± he said tiredly.

    ¡°Sure, if you want to deal with any of the townsfolk coming up around here to look for you,¡± Dahlia mentioned casually. Seamus gave a sigh of defeat before he moved to pick the rucksack up.

    ¡°The trick is to use your shoulder and back,¡± James advised before he lifted his rucksack up. Thankfully, it was much lighter than the bag of items Dahlia had him lug around the other day. Seamus followed James¡¯ example, his arms struggling to lug the sack over his shoulder. Once all three were ready, they made their way into the forest, ready to start their long walk.

 Chapter 10: The Walk

    Havor was bored out of his wits. While he didn¡¯t want to argue with Deimos, the marauder couldn¡¯t help but regret not speaking up. The chieftain had tasked both Havor and Helen to watch the harbor, all to make sure no one tried escaping by boat or ship.

    It seemed like a useless job. Ever since the duel with that nobody, Havor was sure that no one would even attempt an escape. There was no doubt in his mind that everyone on that island was scrambling to find the escaped Halvorson.

    Even Havor himself felt a little fearful from witnessing that fight. If it could be called that. It was more like a public execution. Havor had seen men die, sure. He even witnessed Deimos behead Yorn Halvorson himself. Yet something about the way Deimos killed that young man bothered Havor.

    ¡®It felt more than a bit personal. It was as if he was savoring it,¡¯

    Havor shook that thought away. He was overthinking this. Deimos had simply shown that idiot what happens to heroes. There was nothing more to it. As Havor brushed the idea from his head, his thoughts wandered over to the second man in charge.

    The marauder turned to his left, where his current boss sat. Eli was the marauder¡¯s leading spellcaster, his rank being that of the inner circle. Deimos¡¯ most trusted group of allies. Despite being blind, the young man was an exceptional caster of magic, his skill being on par with some of the strongest Wizards in Valenfrost. At least, that was according to what Havor had heard.

    The young spellcaster was relaxing near the ship¡¯s railing, his gaze seemingly staring at the sky. The faint light that seeped through the clouds reflected off the golden accents in his red blindfold, illuminating them in a way that made them glow. His armor was a simple black cuirass hidden underneath his red and black robes. None would know that it was there unless someone told them so.

    Eli had always made Havor feel uncomfortable. Not because he was blind, of course, nor because he was much younger than him, either. Havor couldn¡¯t explain it, but he felt as if he was being watched constantly, even if the younger man wasn¡¯t even looking in his direction. It was an eerie feeling, one that had no basis or logical explanation. It disturbed Havor whenever the blinded man interacted with him since it felt as if his own soul was under watch and scrutiny.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be on watch duty, Havor?¡± Eli asked suddenly. There was a slight smile at the edge of his lips, almost as if he could hear the curses that went off in the marauder¡¯s head.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you?¡± Havor shot back.

    ¡°I am,¡± Eli said simply. He was still not facing Havor as he spoke, which already unsettled the marauder. ¡°I¡¯m watching the island as we speak,¡± he added soon after.

    Havor raised an eyebrow. Eli wasn¡¯t doing anything as far as Havor could see. Before the marauder could point this out, however, a raven suddenly flew down, landing perfectly on Eli¡¯s shoulder. Havor flinched in surprise before he examined the bird. It wasn¡¯t a normal raven, its ink-black feathers shimmering like a mirage. Its eyes were a bright purple, almost magical in a way, as it cocked its head towards Eli, who stroked the bird fondly.

    ¡®A familiar?¡¯

    Havor watched as Eli turned his head toward him.

    ¡°He is my eyes,¡± Eli explained before he sent the bird away.

    ¡°You mean you can see what he sees?¡± Havor watched as the raven flew off.

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± Eli answered, his head tilted back to the open sea.

    Havor turned away from the strange man. He decided to just go and observe the harbor with Helen. He preferred that over the eerie aura Eli was emitting.

    Just as he was about to leave, Havor couldn¡¯t help but stop. He wasn¡¯t sure why at first, but something bothered him. Havor turned around and soon realized why. It was the spellcaster¡¯s expression. For the first time, Eli looked confused. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clenched the railing. Havor watched as the young spellcaster sat up.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Havor asked. He looked back to where he last saw the raven.

    ¡°Nothing. It¡¯s just¡­¡± Eli trailed off before he raised his head and looked up at the sky. ¡°Something has deeply disturbed the magical ley lines that ran through the island. Either it was an anomaly or¡­¡± Eli went quiet for a moment, prompting Havor to ask,

    ¡°Or¡­?¡±

    Eli turned his head from the marauder, seemingly uncaring.

    ¡°Or¡­Someone summoned something on that island.¡±

    <hr>

    James had to take another breather. His limbs were wobbly, and his lungs stung from the cold air he was breathing. Although they had only been moving for an hour, he felt as if his legs were going to fail him.

    ¡°Give me¡­give me another moment,¡± James managed between breaths. He sat down on a nearby rock, his hands slipping the rucksack to the ground soon after. Dahlia sighed frustratingly but didn¡¯t object. On the other hand, Seamus was in the same state as James. He gladly dropped onto the snowy ground once it was clear that they could take a break.

    ¡°How much longer?¡± James asked in a puff of vapor. Dahlia looked at the two men reproachfully, her own forehead not even breaking a sweat. Regardless of how she felt towards them, the shaman pulled out a small roll of parchment and unfurled it to see its contents.

    ¡°We¡¯re not even halfway there,¡± Dahlia murmured.

    ¡°What? How big is this island?¡± Seamus complained tiredly. He tiredly leaned against the rock that James was resting on.

    ¡°Not really big, honestly. I¡¯m pretty sure Norum is much bigger,¡± Dahlia responded.

    ¡°That¡¯s not really a fair comparison,¡± Seamus said, raising an eyebrow. Norum is bigger than everything.

    ¡°All right. Imagine a smaller version of Vindis, with steep hills and dense forests.¡±

    The two continued to converse, mentioning names and places James had never heard of before. Of course, they had neglected to remember the otherworldly man listening in. The experience gave James a feeling of missing out.

    ¡®It¡¯s like walking into a movie that started an hour ago.¡¯

    It reminded James of when his roommate Nick would invite other friends to play tabletop. They would always talk for hours about their fandoms and interests, mentioning people and places he had never heard of. It always irked James because he had always wanted to join those conversations but never could because he never had the time to learn about the stories and worlds Nick was immersed in.

    ¡®Things are different now,¡¯

    That was back when he had been working his ass off and dealing with Monica¡¯s crap. James was now in an entirely different world, no longer burdened with the troublesome tasks of Earth or his ex''s mundane drama.

    ¡°Hold up!¡± James interrupted the conversation before him. His sudden shout caused both Seamus and Dahlia to quiet down. They looked at James puzzled, almost as if they had forgotten he was there.

    ¡°Another world, remember?¡± James mentioned. He pointed at his earth jacket as further proof.

    ¡°Oh, I almost forgot,¡± Dahlia murmured.

    ¡°You guys really need to tell me more about Valenfrost and the rest of this world¡­whatever it¡¯s called,¡± James muttered, a bit reproachful in his words.

    ¡°Azura,¡± Dahlia said simply.

    ¡°What?¡± James asked. He looked at the young shaman dumbly.

    ¡°That¡¯s the name of this world. It¡¯s Azura.¡± Dahlia smiled at James as she picked her rucksack up, slinging it over her shoulder as she leaned in, poking his chest. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you more about Azura later. Now, we¡¯re gonna have to pick up the pace because daylight is burning, and I¡¯m not trying to freeze my ass off in a tent tonight.¡± She turned and started walking off, leaving Seamus and James behind.

    ¡®Strange.¡¯

    The spirit in James¡¯ body spoke for the first time in forever, his ethereal voice ringing throughout his mind with amusement.

    ¡®Your blood just started rushing to somewhere in the body. I wonder¡­¡¯

    ¡®Shut up! Shut up!¡¯

    James interrupted Faust, quieting him down quickly. The last thing he wanted was to get egged on by a dead man inside his head. With Faust¡¯s comment in mind, James scrambled to grab his rucksack. He and Seamus hurried to follow behind the shaman, who had a head start in their walk.

    <hr>

    As it turned out, to the shaman¡¯s unfortunate luck, the group would have to set up camp very soon. They had all been walking for hours, most of it spent making sure they weren¡¯t lost and carefully treading through the steep hills.

    James had slipped at some point and fallen to the bottom of the hill, making both of his acquaintances wait for him to climb back up the hill all over again. Seamus himself had nearly fallen into a freezing cold pond, his ass saved by the shaman¡¯s quick thinking.

    These events had slowed their walk significantly, taking up most of the day and annoying the leading shaman even more. When the sky had a tint of orange in its gray clouds, the trio was still trekking through a snow-filled forest. The day was getting close to ending, the light around them diminishing. It was clear that camping in the forest was inevitable.

    Dahlia had her map out in front of her; she muttered inaudible curses as she figured out where exactly they were. James and Seamus were resting nearby, catching their breath after they had trekked through what seemed like a mile of waist-high snow. That walk had soaked most of James¡¯ earth clothes, his pants numbing his legs. He shivered from the experience, hearing his own teeth chatter.

    ¡®Still think this is a great fresh start? Such a dumbass.¡¯

    James couldn¡¯t help but mentally scold himself. He almost wanted to laugh at his past self for thinking this entire situation was a fresh start.

    ¡®What¡¯d I do?¡¯ Faust responded, obviously confusing the statement as being directed at him.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Not you, you crazy bastard,¡± James muttered with a shiver, which earned Seamus a confused look.

    ¡°What¡¯d I do?¡± He now asked, causing James to sigh in defeat.

    ¡°Dahlia, how far are we from that veteran you mentioned?¡± James asked. The shaman was still looking at her map, her muttering stopping soon.

    ¡°Far enough that we¡¯ll have to camp out here,¡± Dahlia said grimly, folding up her map as she set her rucksack down. Seamus cursed something under his breath as he stood up.

    ¡°We¡¯d better hurry up with a fire then. Keep the wild animals away,¡± he suggested before heading to the shaman to help set up the camp. James sighed and started to get up. Right when he did so, something else made itself known. He froze, his mind going blank. He dropped his rucksack out of surprise, every part of his body tensing up.

    James wasn¡¯t sure what it was nor what prompted it, but he could feel multiple sensations on his back. The hairs on his body prickled and stood up, almost warning him of something.

    ¡®Okay, tell me you can feel that?¡¯ James mentally spoke to the spirit.

    ¡®Of course I did. The real question is¡­ Do you know what it is?¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice was still and calm. Despite that, it carried a sense of urgency.

    James felt a lump form in his throat at the implication. He forcibly swallowed and took a deep breath. He could hear his heart beating in his ears as he turned to Dahlia and Seamus.

    ¡°We¡¯re being watched,¡± James warned in a soft voice so as not to alarm the other two. There was no denying it. His body sure as hell couldn¡¯t. There wasn¡¯t really a valid explanation behind it, but James didn¡¯t care. The feeling was etched into his body. They were being watched by something.

    ¡®No. It¡¯s a group of somethings,¡¯ Faust corrected.

    ¡°What?¡± Seamus asked in confusion.

    James slowly turned, his focus moving to scan the forest around the trio. He caught the sign of movement from the trees behind Seamus but couldn¡¯t determine what it was as nighttime started settling in. James focused a bit more, feeling his eyes grow warm as he managed to make out a large silhouette of something big. It was covered in fur, its size bigger than that of a Great Dane back on Earth. It prowled around the treeline on all fours, its yellow eyes staring down the young man.

    ¡®Wolves,¡¯ Faust confirmed what he had guessed. James looked at Dahlia, who was staring at him in awe.

    ¡°James¡­you¨C¡± she started, but he cut her off.

    ¡°There are wolves around us. Please tell me you didn¡¯t throw out the sword you pulled out of my chest,¡± James whispered. He could hear how his voice shook with urgency.

    ¡°I still have it. It¡¯s in my bag,¡± Dahlia responded quietly, her hand slowly reaching for her rucksack.

    ¡°Seamus,¡± James turned to the other man, who was visibly shaking with fear.

    ¡°James¡­I¡¯m staring at one right now,¡± Seamus admitted shakily before he took a slow step back. James opened his mouth to say something, but before he could form the words needed, all hell broke loose.

    A lot of things happened.

    First, James didn¡¯t get the chance to tell everyone to stay calm before a huge wolf leaped out from the trees, its sights trained on Seamus.

    Second, Dahlia yelled out some kind of spell, which took effect after James stepped in front of the wolf.

    Third, James had taken the hit for Seamus. All the wind knocked from his lungs as the wolf pounced on him. The beast had tried to take a bite at his neck, but James somehow managed to dodge the attack, the wolf¡¯s teeth grazing his cheek before it pulled back and tried again to bite his neck.

    James interjected with his right forearm and felt the canine¡¯s sharp teeth dig into his flesh. He gritted his teeth, using his strength to fend off the wolf as Dahlia¡¯s spell finally took effect.

    White light filled the forest, illuminating everything and blinding everyone. There was a ringing sound that echoed in James¡¯ ears, but he didn¡¯t care. He was more focused on keeping himself alive. The beast above him loosened its grip for a second during the flash of light, giving James an opening. However, getting it off was proving to be much harder than he had anticipated.

    ¡°Seamus!¡± James shouted. He struggled under the wolf¡¯s weight, his arms not strong enough to throw it off. James resorted to punching the wolf¡¯s head, to no effect. ¡°Fuck! Dahlia!¡±

    Dahlia didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he heard both her and Seamus shout incoherently. James blinked rapidly, the effects of the recent spell soon wearing off. Once his vision returned, he was face to face with a growling wolf, its teeth bared as they clamped onto his arm. James could see from his peripherals how the situation had devolved. At some point during his altercation with the wolf, three more had entered the clearing, their sights trained on Dahlia and Seamus.

    James could see how the other two tried their best to fend off and survive the ambush. Seamus managed to dodge another wolf¡¯s pounce, falling onto his ass as Dahlia brandished her dagger.

    ¡®They can handle it!¡¯ Faust shouted. ¡®Focus on surviving!¡¯

    James clenched his jaw tightly at that. As much as he and Faust differed and argued, he had no desire to ignore the advice given to him. James felt adrenaline pumping through his system as he struggled with the wolf. He attempted to use all of his strength to push it away to the side. No luck. James felt weak, his arms struggling as they tried to shove the wolf back.

    ¡®It¡¯s not working! Try something else!¡¯

    James shifted his legs underneath the beast, his work boots positioned beneath the underbelly. Using every bit of strength in him, he attempted to kick the wolf off. Instead of the beast being kicked back, it clamped harder onto the arm.

    ¡°Motherfucker!¡± James cursed. He tried again, using both his arms and legs to try to get the wolf off of him. This resulted in man and beast rolling on the snow, the wolf letting go of his arm to gnash its teeth at him. It almost bit James again, its sharp teeth nearly grabbing at his throat.

    Amid the struggle, James managed to get the upper hand. Using his weight, he pinned the animal to the snowy ground, his hands wrapping around its neck as it tried to wriggle its way out. James thought about choking the life out of it but disregarded the thought as quickly as it came. He needed to kill it quickly so he could help out the others.

    James searched the snow with his right hand, his left gripping tightly to the wriggling creature beneath him. He looked for anything to use, something that could help. His hand soon felt the jagged edges of a rough rock hidden in the ice, its weight enough to do some damage.

    He didn¡¯t hesitate to raise the rock above the beast. He could feel how heavy it was as he aimed it. The wolf¡¯s yellow eyes seemed to have an ounce of intelligence as it stopped its struggle. Its gaze widened in realization at the rock, its growls soon turning to loud whimpering and barking.

    James screamed as he brought the jagged stone upon the beast, adrenaline adding to the blows. The wolf struggled under his weight, even managing to bite his hand. It did nothing to stop the rock from coming down. James would finally bring the stone down for the fifth time, this strike making its jaw slack. Even with his victory, he still continued to bash the creature. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was the adrenaline or the fear of the wolf coming back. He just couldn¡¯t stop thrashing it violently.

    James even lost count of how many times he had brought the bloody stone down. He only stopped when the wolf¡¯s head was nothing more than mush.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be sick,¡± James uttered in horror at his actions. Before he could even gather his bearings, however, another growl sounded out near him. He turned to the sound, his gaze locking with another wolf¡¯s stare. It was bigger than the one below him, its body language suggesting it was preparing to pounce.

    ¡°Oh fu¨C!¡± James couldn¡¯t even run as the beast tackled him. He blocked the canine¡¯s bite with his left arm this time, his right hand using the rock to try to bash the creature off of him.

    ¡°Get! The fuck! Off of me!¡±

    The wolf didn¡¯t seem affected by the rock, its skull much thicker than its brother.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± James cursed. He dropped the bloody stone and tried to push the wolf off, to no avail. It was heavier and much stronger than the first one. There was no way out of this.

    ¡°James!¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice rang out, distressed.

    Before James could answer her call, he saw something land in the snow to his right. Not wanting to waste time, he hurriedly searched through the cold snow. His right struggled to find the object, his fingers numb as they tried to look for what Dahlia had thrown at him. Thankfully, he soon grasped a familiar hilt, his hand clenching it tightly once he realized what it was.

    James gritted his teeth as he raised his short sword, the same one that had penetrated his heart the night before. He yelled in anger as he thrust the blade into the wolf¡¯s side, its length sinking into the flesh easily. Warm blood ran onto his hand, soaking his arm and torso in the beast¡¯s own vital fluid. James pulled back and stabbed again, not caring if he was missing vital organs. He continued to stab the wild animal, gutting it without any second thoughts.

    <hr>

    Seamus was terrified out of his mind. He had barely managed to dodge another wolf¡¯s attempted attack, his body reacting before his mind could process it. Seamus stumbled back into the snow as Dahlia struggled with one of the other wolves. The shaman wasn¡¯t going to be of any help for the moment.

    In desperation, Seamus felt around the ground for anything that could be used for protection. His hand soon found a wet branch, which was better than nothing. He clenched it tightly, as if it were a sword, before attempting to stand up straight.

    Once he was upright, Seamus wielded his branch-like weapon. He was shaking uncontrollably, his body stunned with fear as he watched Dahlia fight off the wolves nearby. The shaman kicked away one of them, her dagger slashing its muzzle. Before she could follow up her attack, another one approached her, snarling as it attempted a bite. Seamus watched in surprise as Dahlia punched the wolf, her hand raised at its flank.

    ¡°Ignition!¡± she cast. Red runes formed on the stunned wolf, the glyphs taking a few seconds to materialize before dissipating. Almost immediately after, the beast was engulfed in orange flames. It ran around the clearing in a frenzy, its whimpers loud and horrifying.

    Dahlia turned to Seamus, who was watching the whole thing in awe.

    ¡°Look out!¡± She yelled at him, snapping the young man out of his trance.

    Seamus turned to see the wolf from before pouncing at him again, succeeding in its attack. The young man yelled incoherently as the dire wolf¡¯s jaw clenched onto the branch he had been holding. He tripped back onto the ground, the impact of his fall nearly knocking his breath out of his lungs. Seamus was now on his ass, his feet kicking at the wolf to no effect. Dahlia tried to intervene, but she was interrupted by another wolf, one that kept her at bay. Seamus could do nothing but buy himself some time.

    He wasn¡¯t a fighter, not like his father or clan. No, Seamus was a coward, a coward who had never lived up to his family¡¯s expectations. His father, Yorn, could¡¯ve taken care of this lot of wolves. Yorn would even go so far as to say that wolves were barely worth the energy dealing with, as they didn¡¯t pose much of a challenge.

    Seamus was pathetic. Despite being the son of Yorn Halvorson, he was nothing more than a cowardly recluse. All the training his father had put him through amounted to nothing. Even with what his father taught him and what he had been through. Here was Seamus, terrified out of his fucking mind and afraid to fight.

    It wasn¡¯t his fault¡ªat least, not really. Seamus just had the horrible habit of breaking down at the first sign of trouble, all of his thinking and training going out the window as soon as it got serious. He wasn¡¯t even sure how he had survived the marauders in the first place.

    ¡®Dammit all!¡¯

    Seamus saw that the branch was nearly breaking under the wolf¡¯s bite. He almost felt like crying.

    ¡®So this is how it ends. Yorn¡¯s prodigal son getting his throat ripped out by a starving wolf.¡¯

    Seamus had already stopped screaming, his throat hoarse and dry. He closed his eyes tightly as he felt the branch give way and break. Almost instantly, he felt his own lifeblood spray onto his face and throat. He gagged at the taste of warm blood, the feeling all too disgusting and familiar. Yet no pain came of it.

    Seamus opened his eyes and almost cringed at the sight of a dagger¡¯s tip, which protruded from between the wolf¡¯s eyes. Seamus looked up to see Dahlia, scratched and bleeding, as she forcefully pulled the blade out of the wolf¡¯s skull. The beast¡¯s body went limp in his lap, its blood staining his clothes. Seamus gagged again, kicking his legs as he tried to get away from the animal¡¯s corpse.

    ¡°Oh god,¡± he choked out. He made every effort not to vomit outright.

    ¡°Try not to retch. I¡¯m close to doing that myself,¡± Dahlia breathed out in exhaustion. Despite some minor bite wounds, she didn¡¯t seem injured. The flare spell she had cast earlier illuminated the sparse clearing, the glowing ball of magic slowly diminishing in light. Seamus looked at his surroundings, spotting no danger in the forest. Any and all wolves were gone or dead, leaving him and Dahlia the only ones standing.

    ¡®Wait, where¡¯s James?¡¯

    Seamus recalled how the older man had been preoccupied with a couple of wolves. He had taken the hit for Seamus and had held them off on the other side of the clearing. Dahlia had tossed a sword in his general direction not too long ago before her attention was turned to the rest of the pack of beasts.

    ¡°James?¡± Seamus called out. He walked up to the ball of light Dahlia summoned. Thanks to its light, he could see everything much more clearly. Seamus spotted four dead wolves outside of the one near him and Dahlia. One of them was burnt to a crisp, another had its skull punctured, and even one with its head turned to a pulp. The last wolf was bleeding heavily, a large stain of blood surrounding its corpse. Seamus slowly walked up to it, his hands raised in caution. He stopped when he spotted familiar blonde hair underneath its bloodied hide.

    ¡°James!¡± Seamus shouted. He hurryingly pushed the heavy wolf off of the man. As he did so, the wolf landed on its side, its guts spilling out in a steaming heap as a result. The sudden turn of events was enough for Seamus¡¯ gag reflex to give in. Without warning, he vomited to the side, emptying the contents of his stomach.

 Chapter 11: By The Fire

    James groaned as Dahlia sat him up against the tree, her hands attempting to remove his jacket. It was clear she was struggling with the zipper.

    ¡°Let me,¡± James murmured. His bloody hands moved to unzip his jacket, revealing his stained shirt and ripped collar. He almost expected the shaman to be amazed by the zipper, but her face was grim and absolute. She took off the bloody and torn jacket, dropping it aside as she looked at his mangled arms.

    The injuries weren¡¯t as bad as James initially thought. His right arm had some lacerations and cuts, but nothing too deep or severe. His left arm, however, was in terrible shape. Torn skin hung from his wrist and forearm, blood and saliva dripping from his wound. It was a wonder that the wolf didn¡¯t cut something vital.

    Dahlia frowned at the sight and pulled her waterskin from her belt. James winced as she poured the freezing water onto his wounds, cleaning the blood from them. After that, she grabbed some ointment from the satchel she had on her waist.

    ¡°Healing ointment. It should disinfect and heal your wounds,¡± Dahlia explained. She rubbed two fingers into the green mixture before gently applying it on James¡¯ arms, the concoction causing his wounds to sting again.

    Seamus watched from behind, his body huddled beside the fire the shaman had started earlier. They had all moved on from the scene of action, mainly because the previous clearing had reeked of wolf guts and because Dahlia had wanted to find a much drier place to start a fire and set up camp.

    James rested his head against the tree and closed his eyes as he breathed in the cold, smoky air. He pondered through his thoughts, trying his best to pass the time.

    ¡®Can you get rabies from wolves? Those were dire wolves¡­so I guess dire rabies?¡¯

    James would¡¯ve chuckled at that, but his body didn¡¯t feel like it. He was cold and sore, and he felt as if he was going to pass out.

    ¡®You¡¯re lucky to be alive,¡¯ Faust chimed in. ¡®If it wasn¡¯t for me, you all would¡¯ve been dead.¡¯

    James groaned softly, annoyed by the spirit¡¯s comment.

    ¡®Dahlia actually saved us. All you did was sit on the sidelines.¡¯

    The spirit¡¯s anger flared in his body in response to that, prompting Dahlia to comment.

    ¡°Your body temperature is rising. Are you feeling any worse?¡± She asked worriedly, her fingers applying ointment on his cheeks and forehead, where his cuts stung like before.

    ¡°It¡¯s Faust,¡± James answered. ¡°He¡¯s currently giving me the biggest headache since my midterms¡­¡±

    ¡°Faust? That¡¯s the spirit¡¯s name?¡± Dahlia asked. The shaman had finished cleaning James¡¯ wounds.

    ¡°Yeah. Does it sound familiar?¡± James noted the way the shaman had reacted to the name. He hoped he would get some kind of context for the dead guy living inside his head.

    ¡°Not really. It doesn¡¯t sound like a name from Valenfrost or Azurvale,¡± Dahlia admitted as she pulled out a roll of bandages from her satchel. ¡°What are you two arguing about?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s stupid. He¡¯s making a big fuss over nothing,¡± James assured.

    ¡®Nothing?! I saved you back there! Do you think you magically gained the ability to sense those wolves? To see in the darkness? I gave you my senses! I was the reason your arms aren¡¯t a broken mess!¡¯

    Faust was practically screaming inside his head, the experience enough to give James a headache.

    ¡®Christ! Quiet down, will you?!¡¯ James shot back angrily. ¡®What are you even talking about? You gave me your senses?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m a spirit! Spirits can do things beyond human limitations. I simply willed myself into your body when I sensed something was wrong,¡¯ Faust explained.

    James paused for a moment. He didn¡¯t consider the idea of his bond with Faust spawning some otherworldly abilities. Now that he thought about it, he recalled his face getting hotter in that clearing¡ªit was like he had a fever. He had dismissed it at the moment without thinking about it too much.

    ¡°Dahlia, did you notice anything strange with me before the wolf attack?¡± James asked. He wondered if what the spirit had said was true. Dahlia paused midway through the bandaging. She seemed to ponder on the question.

    ¡°Your eyes,¡± Dahlia recalled. ¡°They were glowing blue, just like the night we resurrected you. Do you know why?¡±

    ¡°Faust told me he lent me his ¡®powers.¡¯¡± James explained. ¡°That he, as spirit, can do things beyond human limitations,¡±

    The shaman was quiet for a moment. She was finished bandaging James¡¯ arm, her hands smoothing the gauze.

    ¡°Faust is right,¡± Dahlia finally answered. ¡°Spirits are¡­ strange things.¡± She brushed some of her black hair aside, seemingly in thought. ¡°They are beyond human and possess powers that I¡¯m not sure I can understand. Examples of this are the possessed, wraiths, specters, and even the undead, to an extent. You¡­you¡¯re different. What you and Faust have is something entirely unique. I don¡¯t think it has ever happened before.¡± Dahlia sighed tiredly. It was clear that most of her curiosity and energy were gone. ¡°This is all a lot to process. Maybe it¡¯s because I¡¯m exhausted. Or maybe it¡¯s because we all nearly died. I don¡¯t know, but I just want to eat and forget what happened for now. All right?¡±

    Dahlia rubbed at her eyes before she stood up. James noticed her arm and hand were also bandaged, showcasing that she, too, had her share fair of damage during the entire fight. Without another word, the shaman walked over to the campfire, where Seamus sat comfortably.

    James looked down at his arms, which were bandaged neatly. The same couldn¡¯t be said about his old jacket. The sleeves were ripped and stained with dried wolf blood, but underneath all that, the jacket didn¡¯t seem in bad shape.

    ¡®Just wash off the blood, stitch up the rips, and it¡¯ll be almost as good as new.¡¯

    James decided it was still useful. He picked it up and slipped the jacket on as he stood up. As disgusting as it was to wear something so bloodied and ripped, the snowy night was unforgiving, and James was willing to have as many layers on as possible. Once upright, he headed off to join his party at the fire.

    <hr>

    Things were awkward and quiet between the trio. The only sounds were the crackling of the flames and the distant sound of the wind. They had been waiting patiently for around an hour, watching as the pot at the center boiled and steamed with their dinner.

    James looked over at Seamus, who shook lightly in his huddled spot by the fire. He stared blankly at the fire, his arms holding his knees close to his chest. Despite his shaken state, Seamus had minor damage to his clothes. The younger man had miraculously got through the wolf attack with only a few scratches and cuts, his only major damage being his throat after he had vomited in the clearing.

    Dahlia only had a bandage over her arm and hand and some scratches and bruises herself, but she seemed fine overall. James apparently got the worst out of the three, his arms taking most of the damage but not all of it. He had some cuts on his face and another bite down on his leg that he didn¡¯t even know happened.

    Dahlia had mentioned earlier that two wolves initially had tried to take James, but she got the second one¡¯s attention. She had killed it and another one off with her dagger and ignition spell. Still, she hadn¡¯t seen the bigger one James had killed after the first one. Dahlia had also mentioned how she saved Seamus, who nearly got his throat torn off by a wolf that had jumped on him.

    ¡®Someday, I need to repay her somehow. That is if we survive the next two days.¡¯

    James knew full well that she had been nothing but helpful these last couple of days, keeping him alive and providing for him. While the bag with the heavy rocks was a red flag, he couldn¡¯t help but brush that aside. She was his key to survival in this world.

    ¡°How much longer till the food¡¯s done?¡± Seamus suddenly called out. He was staring at the pot of stew in front of him, his hunger apparent in the way his eyes locked onto the fire. Dahlia moved to check up on the pot, her uninjured hand lifting the lid.

    Almost as if on cue, the smell of the stew traveled to James. The scent was enough to make his stomach growl, reminding him of his lingering hunger. He grimaced, remembering how they had only eaten small travel rations throughout the day, which comprised frozen jerky and dried fruits.

    ¡°It seems like it¡¯s good to eat,¡± Dahlia said as she stirred the pot''s contents with a wooden spoon. She moved to grab some wooden bowls from her pack before pouring the steaming hot stew into the first bowl. Dahlia handed that bowl to Seamus, who gingerly accepted.

    Despite being careful, Seamus¡¯ hands shook sporadically, spilling stew onto the ground. James watched with some worry, wondering if Seamus had fully recovered from the wolf attack.

    ¡°Here, James,¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice cut through his thoughts, prompting him to turn to the shaman. She held out a bowl of stew for him, which steamed beautifully with the delicious smell of vegetables and meat. James wiped the drool from his mouth before reaching out and grabbing the steaming bowl.

    He didn¡¯t really care for a spoon and instead opted to pour the contents into his mouth little by little. He did it slowly, trying not to burn himself as he consumed his dinner. The stew wasn¡¯t much. It was a basic soup with cooked bits of strange vegetables and herbs and an occasional bit of meat. James had eaten much better food back on Earth.

    Still, after what had happened the last two days, including the bad food and small rations he had eaten, this stew tasted godly. It was so good that he had to refrain from chugging the contents of the bowl and burning his mouth.

    After nearly five minutes of careful sipping, James finally placed the now-empty bowl on the ground. He sighed in satisfaction as he wiped his mouth. ¡°That was the best thing to happen to me since I got here.¡±

    Dahlia gave him a look, a slight smile as she sarcastically remarked, ¡°So getting saved from the brink of death by a young beauty wasn¡¯t the best thing?¡± She gestured towards herself, obviously joking.

    James smiled for the first time in a while, chuckling a bit. ¡°Honestly? It was probably the worst thing to happen in my life,¡± he remarked, his eyes moving to the fire. Dahlia nodded, her smile still on her lips as she watched the flames with James.

    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt it,¡± she said. James glanced at his two companions, who were both done with their bowls. Seamus didn¡¯t seem shaken anymore; his eyes tired as he watched the fire.

    ¡°Where did you learn how to do it?¡± James asked softly. Dahlia blinked in confusion, seemingly clueless about what he was asking. ¡°The ritual used to revive me¡­ where did you learn that?¡± James rephrased. The shaman was quiet momentarily, her eyes focused on the flames before her.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°I was taught by another shaman years ago when I was really young,¡± Dahlia started. ¡°He raised me soon after my parents died and taught me how to cast spells and perform rituals. Let me summon some spirits to improve my skills.¡± She looked over at James. ¡°I¡¯ve read about rituals similar to the one I did on you, and I''ve even heard stories of the possessed healing almost any wound. But James, what I did on that night¡­Well, it was purely improvised.

    ¡°No one had taught me how to bring a man from the dead, only how to summon spirits. I only hoped that transferring the spirit inside of you could heal your wound. Instead, it did something none of us could imagine.¡± Dahlia sounded a bit excited as if she were a student who had discovered a fascinating result in a science project.

    James blinked, surprised that she had actually improvised the whole thing. It was also terrifying, knowing that any minor mistake made during his resurrection would¡¯ve been fatal. James wondered about her story, focusing more on how she had been raised by a previous shaman.

    ¡°What happened to the shaman who raised you?¡± James asked. He hoped he wasn¡¯t stepping over boundaries.

    Dahlia¡¯s smile slowly faltered at the question, her eyes still focused on the campfire. ¡°The same thing that happens to most people nowadays,¡± she muttered. James decided not to push anymore, instead opting to stare at the flames with her and Seamus.

    ¡®It only makes sense that more people die here. Raiders, wild animals, harsh environments, and disease, if you¡¯re lucky. This isn¡¯t like Earth, where people can be safe in their homes and have modern solutions to help with their problems. This is reality, and it¡¯s brutal.¡¯

    ¡°I know that feeling,¡± Seamus spoke up, quiet but clearly heard. Both James and Dahlia turned their heads to the young man, whose gaze was craned towards the night sky. ¡°The marauders took everything from me. Murdered everyone I knew and cared about. I only barely survived the initial attack¡­ and my escape.¡±

    There was some silence after Seamus¡¯ words. James didn¡¯t know how to respond to Seamus¡¯ story, whether to comfort him or ask him to continue.

    Before he could decide, Dahlia spoke up.

    ¡°You¡¯re from the Halvorson Clan, right?¡± she asked. ¡°I heard of its downfall a week ago¡­ about how nearly everyone was purged during the raid.¡± Dahlia seemed sympathetic and almost understanding to the young man.

    Seamus nodded, his eyes still facing the sky. ¡°I¡¯m Yorn¡¯s son, his successor. Heir to his clan and everything he rules.¡± He shrugged, tired. ¡°Or what remains back on that island now.¡±

    ¡°Yorn¡¯s son? You¡¯re really his son?¡± Dahlia asked, now surprised. James raised an eyebrow, looking at the shaman.

    ¡°Who¡¯s Yorn?¡± He asked, genuinely confused about who they were talking about.

    ¡°Yorn is¡­was¡­the Jarl of one of the most powerful clans in Valenfrost¡ªthe Halvorson Clan, herald of the bear. His influence went far back in the day, before Valenfrost¡¯s clans became disjointed and nomadic.¡± Dahlia spouted out the information like it was common knowledge, going on about the infamous man.

    ¡°Jarl Yorn raided and overtook hundreds of towns and forts back in his day, even entire cities if the legends are true. He¡¯s taken down inquisitors, rival clans, orc tribes, and even Lumen Knights¡­¡± Dahlia slowly trailed off. It was clear that she had finally realized that the man was dead now and that his surviving son was right there, grieving. Her expression faltered a bit, her eyes downcast. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about what happened to him, Seamus.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Seamus muttered. He didn¡¯t seem to care much about it. ¡°I just wish I had an ounce of courage that man had. Maybe then I wouldn¡¯t have fled like a coward.¡± He sat up, his eyes dulled and tired.

    James frowned. ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with that. I¡¯m sure you had no choice,¡± he pointed out, hoping it would make the young man feel better.

    Seamus just shook his head. ¡°I had a choice, James. Fight for my clan, or run like a coward. I chose the latter, and now here I am. Freezing on an island I had just doomed.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s still not true, you know. We still have two days. A lot can happen until then,¡± James mentioned, trying his best to lift the man¡¯s spirits, along with his own.

    ¡°For someone who nearly got mauled to death by a wolf, you seem pretty hopeful,¡± Seamus pointed out. He raised an eyebrow. ¡°In fact, I¡¯d say you¡¯re a pretty odd person, James. What¡¯s your story? I know little about you.¡± Seamus asked.

    There was genuine curiosity on his face, his gaze set on the otherworldly man. James blinked, being caught off guard by Seamus¡¯ request. He noticed Dahlia was looking at him, too, also curious.

    ¡®They both shared their own stories. It¡¯s only fair for me to tell them mine.¡®

    James took an icy breath as he thought back to the day it had all started, back to when he had awoken from a nightmare he couldn¡¯t remember.

    He told his story to his new companions, starting from when he was late for work and how he was fired from his only source of income. He followed it up with him catching Monica cheating and the chaos that ensued after that. James omitted the details of his hallucinations from that day. He still wasn¡¯t sure if they resulted from his night terrors or his summoning. Something told him it might¡¯ve been both, but he kept that to himself. That was a can of worms he would have to deal with later.

    James ended his retelling with the events that led up to his summoning: how he had crashed his own car on the side of the road, the whispers that guided him through an unnaturally cold forest, the inaudible voices bringing him to the lake. There, he had seen the slab of wood with runes etched onto it, his blind curiosity and apparent hypnotism bringing him to Valenfrost.

    It seemed like a lot to process. Seamus asked occasional questions during James¡¯ story, mainly about the ¡®cars¡¯ and ¡®phones.¡¯ The questions made James slightly miss his phone, even if he barely used it back on Earth. It was gone, however, destroyed during the crash that had led to him finding the black water lake. Even if he had brought it, it would have slipped out like his wallet did when he fell into the black waters.

    ¡°It¡¯s not really the worst of stories. You both have had much more difficult lives than me,¡± James admitted. He felt stupid about his own story, how he had thought he had experienced one of the worst days of his life on that day.

    ¡®In fact, only two days into this world and it has already surpassed that experience. Go figure.¡¯

    James shivered at that. He knew full well that it was only going to get harder from now on.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t really sound like a bad day to me,¡± Dahlia commented with a small smile on her lips, ¡°If anything, I¡¯m pretty sure it was a positive experience for you, besides getting injured in that ¡®car crash¡¯ of yours. I¡¯d say the worst day should be the day where you had to carry around all of my heavy cargo, gave up a gold piece, and challenged a damn maniac to a duel.¡± Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but chuckle, prompting a small smile from Seamus.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± James waved it off with a smile as well. ¡°You have a point. By the way, you guys haven¡¯t told me much about this world. I¡¯ve only heard names like Norum, Lumen, and Vindis.¡± James wanted to change the topic. Not because he was tired of the ribbing but because he had been wanting to get that question out of the way first. James was clueless to this world, in both knowledge and experience. He needed to know as much as he could about Azura.

    ¡°You have a point,¡± Dahlia nodded, acknowledging James¡¯ question. ¡°I haven¡¯t really been the best at explaining things to you,¡± she said with an embarrassed laugh. ¡°All right, I¡¯ll try to answer your question. Let¡¯s start with Norum. Some people might call Norum the capital of Valenfrost. The island and city borders the continent of Azurvale and the Lumen Kingdom, so most people and nomads argue that it¡¯s not truly a part of Valenfrost, with the King¡¯s control over it and all.¡± Dahlia¡¯s explanation only confused James, making him end up with more questions.

    ¡°All right. Can you at least explain Lumen next? Without going on another tangent,¡± James asked carefully, hoping that the shaman understood.

    ¡°Right, sorry about that.¡± Dahlia gave a nervous smile and nodded before continuing, ¡°The Lumen Kingdom is probably one of the longest-standing empires in existence, although its leadership has always been confusing. The power has always switched and changed Kings, Queens, and even councils in its past.¡± Dahlia stopped herself from continuing, trying her best not to go on another tangent. James sort of wanted to know more but knew that it was getting late, and he could always have a history lesson the next day.

    ¡°Okay¡­so what¡¯s Vindis?¡± James finally asked, remembering it being mentioned as a ¡®floating city.¡¯

    ¡°Vindis city is one of the bigger cities in Valenfrost, next to Bernis and Norum,¡± Seamus said this time, seemingly interested in this topic. The most notable part about it is that it¡¯s a floating city. All the buildings, streets, and alleys are made up of floating platforms tied together. The city even has its own center and neighborhoods, all attached to floating platforms.¡±

    ¡°Platforms?¡± James asked. He tried to imagine what that would look like.

    ¡°Yes, large floating platforms. All held together by chains, bridges, and even rope in some areas,¡± Seamus explained. ¡°Vindis even has a wall around it, made up of longships to protect its harbors. Buoys surround the city, enchanted with runes to protect it against rogue waves and such.¡± Seamus quieted down again, seemingly in thought. ¡°Vindis itself has been around for a century, I think¡­¡±

    ¡®He sure knows a lot about the city. I wonder if he¡¯s ever been there. Also, a century? How does a city like that stay up for so long?¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s not surprising. I remember hearing about a city that was created in the clouds. It had been around for thousands of years.¡¯

    Faust had suddenly spoken, surprising James.

    ¡®Did you just remember something?¡¯ The young man asked, wondering if Faust had recovered anything important about himself.

    ¡®Yeah. I¡¯ve slowly been recovering memories throughout this trip,¡¯ Faust mentioned casually.

    ¡®Why didn¡¯t you tell me about it?¡¯ James asked.

    "I don''t like you that much," Faust said simply, causing James to introduce the spirit to a very tasteful mental image of his middle finger. The spirit returned the gesture.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m going to sleep,¡± Dahlia yawned and stretched her arms. ¡°We¡¯ll be sharing the tent for now. It¡¯s too cold for us to be sleeping on our own.¡± She gestured towards the nearby wide tent, which had been pitched earlier. Dahlia had slipped in blankets, pelts, and bedrolls inside for all three of them to use. Sharing would be awkward, but James knew warmth came at a price. Better to be uncomfortable than to be freezing.

    Without saying anything more than goodnight, the shaman stood up. She put in some more firewood before heading to the tent, leaving James and Seamus alone at the fire.

    There was some silence after that, with the occasional crackling of the flames. James himself was thinking about calling it a night when something else broke the silence.

    ¡°How does it feel?¡± Seamus had asked out of nowhere, catching James off guard.

    ¡°How does what feel?¡± James asked, looking over at the man.

    ¡°Having that spirit inside of you... I bet it doesn¡¯t feel too great, especially if he¡¯s in your thoughts,¡± Seamus said.

    James pondered his question for a bit, trying his best to find the words for such a feeling.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­weird. Like someone¡¯s always around you, but they¡¯re really not. It¡¯s unnatural, something that no one is supposed to experience.¡± James tried his best to explain it, but it was almost like explaining the fourth dimension.

    ¡®It¡¯s incomprehensible. Unexplainable even.¡¯

    Still, Seamus seemed to get the point. He even nodded, his gaze moving to the crackling flames.

    ¡°I think I can understand,¡± Seamus said. I can¡¯t imagine dealing with a spirit inside my head, another voice to add to the others.¡± He tapped at the side of his temple. I already have a lot going on in my head. I''m pretty sure a second mind would overcomplicate things.¡±

    Seamus then did something James had never heard him do. He laughed. It wasn¡¯t a hearty laugh nor something akin to a chuckle. It was an honest laugh, short and unexpected. Still, James could sense Seamus was still grieving his own losses, fighting his own demons inside, even if he didn¡¯t show it. It was something James¡¯ own father did back before he had gotten sick.

    James remembered the way his father¡¯s eyes dulled and lost color whenever he had alluded to his past. There was always a sense of loss behind his words and his warnings to James. It was like he was trying to save him from suffering the same way he did.

    ¡®God, what would he say if he saw where I ended up?¡¯

    His entire life, James had tried to live a good life. Yet it had never worked out for him. Working a dead-end job, living a mundane life. Cheating ex, constant nightmares. Hell, he wasn¡¯t even sure why he had the latter. The fact that they had shown him his own fate was bizarre and terrifying. Why was he witness to such a terrifying premonition?

    ¡®Is it the summoning? Was it that runic thing?¡¯

    Deep inside, James felt it was probably best he didn¡¯t know. It was a gnawing feeling that came with such thoughts. It told him he shouldn¡¯t dwell on it.

    ¡®Best we try not to pry into such things,¡¯ Faust suddenly spoke. ¡®There are things in this world that are best left unknown. We¡¯ll both go insane trying to find the answers.¡¯

    The spirit¡¯s warning echoed in his mind. Faust didn¡¯t have his memories. At least, not all of them. Yet even he knew better than to let James think about it. That was enough to give him the hint that he should heed the warning.

    James looked at Seamus, who was still looking at the flames. While their situations differed wildly, James couldn¡¯t help but see him as a parallel. Both were out of their league, placed into a dangerous situation, and forced to survive.

    ¡®It¡¯s too late for this shit. We should sleep and get our minds off of this.¡¯

    James sighed and stood up. He looked down at Seamus and gave him a reassuring smile.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, man, let¡¯s get to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.¡± James extended his hand to the young, broken man. Seamus weakly smiled and accepted it.

    ¡°Yeah, long day.¡±

 Chapter 12: Dead of Night

    Frederick sighed tiredly as he stood guard at the ship¡¯s bow. Darkness was all he could see up ahead, the only source of natural light being the stars, which were slightly visible through the parting clouds above. Still, he could hear the black waves hitting the ship¡¯s hull, the deck shifting in response to the sea¡¯s movements.

    Frederick was used to it. The aging man had been at sea for the last few months, acting as this ship¡¯s guard for a while now. He was a mercenary for hire, bought out by some merchant to protect the Delphine and her cargo. Yet despite this job paying good, as well as the low risk of it all, Frederick was miserably bored.

    ¡®I would gladly take on pirates. Even a small orc detachment would do,¡¯

    The mercenary sighed again, his gaze looking over at the dark abyss that was the sea. Frederick couldn¡¯t even see what was out there, with how dark the night was. The moonlight that peered slightly through the clouds did little outside of being pretty. Outside the range of the lanterns, Frederick couldn¡¯t see a damn thing.

    ¡®Not like there¡¯s anything out there,¡¯

    Frederick knew full well that this part of Valenfrost rarely held any dangers. The only threats he could think of were the small gangs of pirates and the occasional sea leviathan. Even then, those dangers were rare and only getting rarer as the Lumen Kingdom¡¯s influence grew across Northern Valenfrost.

    ¡®Soon enough, and there¡¯ll probably be no dangers left in Valenfrost. No jobs either,¡¯

    The bitter thought was enough to make the mercenary spit out into the black waters. While Lumen control was years away, Frederick was no fool. With the fall of Halvorson, the only clans left to keep order in Valenfrost were bickering dolts who¡¯d rather die than band together. The only clan that could match up to Yorn¡¯s strength was Redyr, and even that seemed impossible.

    Valenfrost was a sinking ship, and Frederick was a rat that needed an out. The mercenary would probably have to move again, possibly to Azurvale once more.

    ¡®I could probably take my chances with Vindis. Gods know those people would rather die than be under Lumen control. Then again, there¡¯s the chance the Royal Army will just burn the damn city to the bottom of the black sea.¡¯

    Frederick decided to take his chances in Azurvale. While the Lumen Kingdom was a major empire, he knew well that they didn¡¯t expand across the entire continent of Azurvale. The mercenary can probably find work in the Far East, possibly in the dwarven lands or, at best, the neighboring continent of Kasan.

    Just as Frederick decided on his future plans of action, his ears caught the sound of faint footsteps walking up behind him. The mercenary turned quickly to the source, instantly meeting face-to-face with the young son of the merchant who hired him.

    ¡°Adam. You really have to stop sneaking up on people like that,¡± Frederick warned with a sigh. He turned back to the open ocean again, his hand relaxing on the hilt of his sword.

    ¡°You knew it was me before you spotted me,¡± Adam laughed. He went to sit on top of a nearby crate, his hand carrying an apple he definitely stole from the cargo area.

    ¡°Why are you awake? It¡¯s about three hours from sunrise.¡± Frederick asked. He raised an eyebrow at the teenager, who shrugged as he took a bite from the apple.

    ¡°Who knows? Maybe I¡¯m just dedicated to the family business,¡± Adam shrugged before giving Frederick an innocent grin. Frederick held back a smile of his own. He knew that the fourteen-year-old was not really dedicated to his father''s business.

    ¡°It¡¯s because you¡¯re excited about our destination, correct?¡± Frederick asked. He could see how Adam¡¯s gaze moved to the dark sea, avoiding eye contact.

    ¡°It¡¯s that woman at Yorktown, isn¡¯t it? The one we traded herbs and potions with during late Bloom?¡± the mercenary prodded. Almost instantly, Adam¡¯s cheeks turned the same shade as the apple he was holding, which more than confirmed Frederick¡¯s suspicions.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t she ten years your senior?¡± The mercenary asked, almost in a teasing sort of way. He allowed himself to smile now that he knew the poor kid had a hopeless crush.

    ¡°Yes, but¡­age is just a number!¡± Adam retorted, already defending himself.

    ¡°And a dungeon is just a basement,¡± Frederick calmly countered, deciding to have fun with this,

    ¡°She¡¯s also a shaman, if I remember correctly, not really the type of woman your mother and father would want near their precious son.¡± The mercenary could see Adam''s embarrassment switch to realization, his reaction already showing that he didn¡¯t think of that.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll convince them then!¡± Adam spouted out, sweat beading on his forehead.

    ¡°Convince who of what?¡± a gruff voice spoke out, catching the attention of Frederick and Adam. Both turned to see Adam¡¯s father, the man who owned the Delphine. He also hired the mercenary in the first place, giving him a stable job for the coming months. The portly man was shorter than Frederick, fatter even, but his voice held authority and the constant reminder that he was his boss.

    ¡°Convince you to let Adam handle the negotiations at Yorktown,¡± Frederick answered, covering for Adam. The fourteen-year-old seemed bewildered at the sudden answer but quickly nodded to his father.

    ¡°Yes, I want to help with negotiations in the town and be a part of the business,¡± Adam confirmed. Adam¡¯s father, Mr. Ernest to Frederick, nodded at the idea.

    ¡°Hm. If you really think you can do it, son. I see no reason to turn your offer down. Just as long as you don¡¯t choke on your words or embarrass us, of course,¡± Mr. Ernest stroked his beard and nodded to Frederick, ¡°By the way, get some sleep. I can send one of the crew to watch over.¡±

    The mercenary frowned at the suggestion. He felt uncomfortable about leaving his post. ¡°Are you sure? The ship is still moving,¡± he asked with some uncertainty.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure. We¡¯re already nearing Yorktown anyway, so we¡¯ll drop the anchor soon,¡± Mr. Ernest confirmed. ¡°Besides, this part of Valenfrost is practically threat-free this time of year, so I doubt there¡¯ll be any danger,¡± he added, giving the mercenary some respite.

    ¡®Still...''

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll stay at my post for a little longer, sir; make sure everything goes well,¡± Frederick politely refused, giving his boss a smile that simply said, ¡®You know me.¡¯ Mr. Ernest nodded, smiling as he walked off to check up on the rest of the ship. Frederick sighed as he turned back to face the black waters again.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you take the offer? You¡¯ve been up for almost two days, Frederick,¡± Adam pointed out, a confused look on his face.

    Frederick shrugged, his eyes focusing on the darkness. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just have this bad feeling in my gut.¡±

    The mercenary¡¯s words surprised Adam, prompting him to ask, ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Frederick opened his mouth to respond but stopped. His eyes had picked up some distant movement in the dark, the simple motion enough to make him go still. His hand instinctively reached for his sword, his thumb resting near the guard. In only those few seconds of movement, the mercenary knew exactly what he was looking at.

    ¡®A dark ship. Sneaking around.¡¯

    Frederick felt his heart drop, his blood turning to ice. He had been around Northern Valenfrost enough to know what was happening and who he was dealing with.

    ¡®But marauders? Out here?¡¯

    Frederick decided to ask questions later. He needed to focus on warning the ship and crew.

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Adam, sound the alarm! Get to your father and¡ª¡± Before Frederick could finish, a loud crash sounded throughout the night, violently shaking the Delphine. The mercenary and the teen fell to the deck, losing their balance.

    Once Frederick got his bearings, he was witness to something big scraping against Delphine¡¯s starboard. It was a huge black ship with red sails, a screaming banshee on its figurehead. It had come out of nowhere. Frederick saw as hooks were thrown onto the deck, their chains being pulled back to attach themselves to the railing. They were boarding.

    ¡°Adam, get to your father! Now!¡± Frederick shouted before pushing the terrified kid away. Adam did not stop to question as he ran off to find his father.

    Frederick ran to the hooks and started kicking them off. As he was doing this, other crew members arrived on the deck, confused about what the commotion was.

    ¡°Get those hooks off! Now!¡± Frederick shouted at them. He didn¡¯t check to see if they listened, his focus on holding the bastards off. The large ship still wasn¡¯t close enough to send people over, but Frederick knew that could change any second.

    Suddenly, arrows rained down on the deck, one of them hitting the mercenary on the shoulder. The arrow penetrated his leather armor, causing him to grit his teeth in pain. The mercenary broke the arrow¡¯s shaft off without hesitation, leaving the tip in.

    The lanterns suddenly blew out, making it impossible for Frederick to see where the arrows came from. He stumbled as Delphine shook again. It felt as if something rammed into the port side.

    ¡®Did they succeed in boarding?¡¯

    Frederick dug into his pouches again. He could hear footsteps on the deck as yells sounded off into the night, some in pain and some in fear. The mercenary clenched his jaw tight as he pulled out a flare rune, a projectile variant. He raised the rune high into the black sky, shouting the engraved spell¡¯s name.

    ¡°Flare: Fireball!¡±

    The words activated the rune, its engravings shining an ethereal purple as a bright red ball of flame quickly materialized and fired into the night. It flared up in the sky, illuminating everything under its flaming gaze.

    Frederick looked around his lit surroundings and saw how deep in the shit they were. There was another ship, smaller than the first but on par with the Delphine. Frederick spotted the crew and saw how they were losing. His initial hunch was right, as marauders now fought against the crew. While a few wore the infamous black armor, most of the raiders wore shoddy pieces of chain mail and scavenged armor, most notably without the red handprint.

    ¡®Hired bandits.¡¯

    The realization gave the mercenary a small bit of hope. They might stand a chance, after all. Frederick soon spotted Adam in the fold, who wielded a small dagger he kept as protection. He cursed under his breath, unsheathing his sword as he rushed to their aid.

    One bastard tried to swing his rusted ax at Frederick, which didn¡¯t work well for the bandit. With ease, Frederick sidestepped the pirate, stabbed him in the throat, and kicked his dying body away. There wasn¡¯t any time to lose.

    Frederick rushed to help Adam, who was about to be struck down by one of the ill-equipped raiders. The mercenary raised his bloody sword and struck the bandit down by his exposed collar. Crimson sprayed, and the pirate went down without so much of a shout.

    Once he was sure they were relatively clear, Frederick glanced at Adam. The kid looked worse than he felt. He looked sick, like he was on the verge of throwing up. Frederick wanted to tell him it would be alright and that they would get through this. He wouldn¡¯t have the chance, however.

    Thinking on his feet, Frederick shoved Adam out of the way of an incoming sword, saving his life. The aging mercenary didn¡¯t hesitate to shove his blade into the bandit¡¯s stomach, quickly eviscerating him with force and painting the deck with guts. The gory sight seemed too much for Adam, who turned to puke onto the deck behind him.

    ¡°Go to your father! Now!¡± Frederick shouted behind his back, just as someone else¡¯s blade swung at him. Frederick countered it, gritting his teeth as he felt the weight behind the attack. This man wasn¡¯t like the bandit trash he was facing before.

    ¡®His armor.¡¯

    Frederick noticed the well-maintained black gambeson, a red handprint visible beneath the chain mail. The bald marauder grinned at Frederick, his hands gripping the sword tightly.

    ¡°Finally, a good fight!¡± The marauder shouted with glee. Without a second wasted, his sword pulled back to swing at Frederick again. The mercenary countered the attack, his free hand punching the marauder in the face as he sidestepped. The marauder spat blood, his sword returning at frightening speed. Frederick barely blocked it with his left bracer, saving himself from a lost eye. Still, he could feel the blade dig past his vambrace and into his skin, blood running down his sleeve as a result. Something else pierced Frederick''s right leg, preventing him from counterattacking.

    ¡°Agh! Dammit!¡± He shouted in agony. He turned to see a blonde woman in the same black armor as the first marauder. Her spear had pierced his leg, dropping him down on a knee as the other marauder pulled his sword out of Frederick¡¯s arm. Frederick clenched his jaw in anger as he swung his sword at the spear¡¯s owner. She dodged his attack, pulling her spear out of Frederick¡¯s leg with a sickening shunk. The bald one stabbed at his side right after, sending jolts of pain throughout the mercenary¡¯s body.

    Frederick angrily shouted as he tried to swing at the bald marauder. However, something sharp pierced his right arm and stopped his swing. The mercenary turned to see the same woman from before. Her spear had immobilized his arm, keeping it in place. Before Frederick could do anything more, a tall man with black-plated armor appeared between the two marauders, seemingly out of nowhere.

    Frederick didn¡¯t have time to say anything before the man¡¯s armored boot connected with his face, knocking him out before a single thought could materialize in his head.

    <hr>

    When Frederick slowly came to, his body was in constant pain. His eyes opened to see the deck, which was now slick with blood and guts. He could see the bodies of the crew, along with Mr Ernest¡¯s body and Adam¡¯s motionless corpse.

    ¡°You¡­bastards,¡± Frederick croaked out. He tried to move, but his body refused to respond.

    ¡°Now, now,¡± a soft masculine voice spoke, its owner appearing in front of Frederick. It was the mysterious man from before, the one who knocked him out. He crouched next to the downed mercenary, his lips curved in a soft smile. He carried himself well, like he didn¡¯t just slaughter all of Frederick¡¯s companions and friends.

    ¡°My name is Deimos,¡± he introduced himself as if the two were chatting over tea.

    ¡°I know who the fuck you are.¡± Frederick gritted his teeth in anger. ¡°The real question is¡­why?¡± the mercenary grunted as he slowly tried to stand, the other marauders suddenly moving to take care of him. Deimos raised his hand, stopping his crew of murderers.

    ¡°What do you gain from this?!¡± Frederick shouted. ¡°Don¡¯t you have enough after Yorn? Huh?! What did we do to you?!¡± The mercenary was overflowing with anger, his rationale out of the question as he screamed at the marauder leader. Deimos was unfazed by it all. Instead, he simply gestured to his crew of marauders.

    ¡°We gain nothing from this,¡± Deimos admitted shamelessly. ¡°You see, my mercenary friend, my men have been terribly bored for the last few days. They haven¡¯t fought nor pillaged in days and needed the practice.¡± The emotionless way he explained himself was infuriating. There was no bigger plan or necessity in the raid¡ªonly bloodlust and senseless slaughter.

    Deimos¡¯ meaningless excuse caused even more anger to flare inside Frederick¡¯s soul. The mercenary only had to look at Adam¡¯s lifeless body, whose eyes were blank and soulless, to remind him of how he had failed to protect the kid.

    ¡°You fucking monsters! I¡¯ll kill you all!¡± Frederick shouted. With sheer willpower, the mercenary charged at Deimos, regardless of his injuries.

    He never stood a chance.

    Deimos easily took Frederick¡¯s punch to the face, blood appearing on his lips. Frederick watched as the man wiped his mouth, grinning at the mercenary.

    ¡°You¡¯re brave,¡± Deimos whispered softly. Before Frederick could react, he felt something cold and biting pierce his guts. An exasperated gasp was drawn from his lungs as Deimos¡¯ sword ran through him.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t even see him unsheathe it.¡¯

    ¡°Brave but foolish,¡± Deimos murmured before he placed his gauntlet on the mercenary¡¯s shoulder, gripping it tightly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry¡­ I¡¯ll make sure you feel your guts spill.¡± Frederick could only watch in horror as he felt the sword slowly gut his stomach open, unbearable agony shooting through his body.

    The last thing that Frederick saw was Deimos¡¯ cold green eyes before he kicked the disemboweled mercenary off of the Delphine and into the freezing black waters.

    <hr>

    The mercenary slowly gained consciousness in the freezing waters; his vision blurred as he looked up at the distant surface of the water. He wasn¡¯t in pain. His body was numb from the cold now. Yet he was still alive somehow, despite his body being mangled beyond any doctor¡¯s ability. Not even the high clerics from Lumen City could revive him.

    Yet, here he was, at the bottom of the black sea, somehow conscious. His eyes moved to examine the damage his body had endured, but his head refused to move. Strangely, Frederick slowly felt a burning sensation in his skin and guts, like they were on fire. He tried to get up, to do anything, but his body could barely move. It took a great deal of willpower and strength just for him to crane his neck.

    Frederick saw what was happening now. His skin was blue and black, and some parts of his body were engulfed in what looked like frostbite. Frederick watched in horror as what looked like ice crystallized all over his open torso and arms. It was the source of the burning sensation, he realized. He felt his right eye slowly burn, his vision blurring even more on the right as he felt his face crystallize.

    Frederick tried to scream, but his lungs were filled with icy water, and soon, they would crystallize as well, leaving half of the mercenary¡¯s body covered in the icy crystals and frostbite. Something horrifying would soon take over Frederick''s body, leaving him in excruciating pain.

 Chapter 13: Walks End

    James was met with oblivion, the experience akin to the mindscape he was used to. Yet now, there was no troubling spirit nor an infinite plane of water. He was floating in the void, faced with many stars that speckled the plane. Despite his absent knowledge of them, he recognized these constellations. From where, he did not know.

    ¡°Such an interesting outcome,¡± a voice called out. James could not respond and couldn''t turn his direction to the source.

    ¡°Danger and death, flame and ice, what a varied fate you bring,¡± the voice said. It was that of a female. No, a male? James couldn¡¯t tell. It almost sounded like a cacophony of sounds that resembled voices. A legion of noise that was somehow sentient. He couldn¡¯t comprehend it.

    As James tried to make sense of what he was experiencing, he noticed something off about the stars in front of him. One by one, the stars disappeared, engulfed by a darkness that was creeping closer to him.

    ¡°You disturbed the nature of life and death, son of Holter,¡± the voice murmured. ¡°You are at grave risk, one caused by the hand of the shaman and yourself.¡±

    James wanted to ask what the hell they were talking about. Grave risk? Wasn¡¯t he already in danger? The marauders were enough, no? As he contemplated this, James noticed that the darkness had snuffed out nearly all the stars, its presence ever so closer to him.

    ¡°Take my warning and get out of this alive,¡± the voice called. ¡°Otherwise, you¡¯ll become something worse than you can imagine¡ªa fate worse than death and infinitely more agonizing than the depths of hell.¡±

    ¡°Who are you?! Why do you know this?¡± James forced himself to call out. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    The voice was silent for a moment. As he waited for an answer, James felt the darkness reach him. Its icy touch was enough to make him lock up and gasp for air. The darkness gripped at his heart, reminding him of the stiff embrace of death once more.

    ¡°All I want is for you to live,¡±

    James could only be silent as he was whisked away, sent back to the waking world.

    <hr>

    James opened his eyes, his lungs sharply taking air. He stared at the tent''s roof, unsure of what he had just experienced.

    ¡®It¡¯s just a dream. Just another fucked up dream,¡¯

    Yet even he knew it could be more than that. Judging from what he had seen in his previous night terrors, anything was possible. James forced back a yawn as he sat up in his sleeping roll. His back ached painfully as his roll wasn¡¯t really the most comfortable thing.

    ¡®Still, it¡¯s better than sleeping tied up in a chair.¡¯

    He looked around the inside of his tent. Seamus was snoring lightly on his side of the tent, sprawled into a position that looked very uncomfortable. James shrugged and looked to his left, where Dahlia had rested the night before. She was nowhere to be seen, her bedroll empty and her blankets shoved aside.

    James reached for his torn jacket and slipped it on before crawling out of the tent. Despite a cloudy morning, the daylight was enough to make him cover his eyes. Once his vision returned to him, James could see how the fire from last night was relit. Right beside it was Dahlia, drinking what looked like steaming tea from a tin cup.

    ¡°You¡¯re up late,¡± she commented before taking a sip out of her cup.

    ¡°Late? The sun¡¯s barely up,¡± James commented. He sat beside her, his hands extending to warm themselves by the fire.

    ¡°What time do people usually get up on earth?¡± Dahlia scooted closer to him before offering her tin cup to James.

    ¡°Depends, really, but I usually get up later than this¡­ That is, if I can get up in the morning,¡± James said. He carefully took the heated cup, sniffing the tea before taking a sip. It tasted like medicine, but it warmed him up nicely.

    ¡°Your world sounds strange,¡± Dahlia commented with a chuckle.

    ¡°What¡¯s stranger is that we somehow understand each other,¡± James pointed out. The simple fact that his English was somehow understood had bothered him since his summoning. He never really had the chance to bring it up earlier. ¡°How is it we both speak the same language?¡±

    Dahlia raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°You mean you haven¡¯t noticed yet?¡±

    ¡°Notice what?¡± James asked with an equal amount of curiosity.

    ¡°You¡¯re speaking Azuran right now,¡± Dahlia revealed. ¡°The most common tongue in this part of the world.¡±

    ¡°Wait, what?¡± James couldn¡¯t help but feel even more confused. He almost didn¡¯t want to believe her. James could have sworn he had been speaking English this entire time. Hell, it felt like he was speaking it. Was she messing with him? Was Azuran somehow similar to English? ¡°How? I don¡¯t¡­ what?¡±

    ¡°The ritual,¡± Dahlia answered simply. She turned her gaze to the flames of the campfire. One necessity of summoning demons is conversing with them to understand what they¡¯re speaking of. To bypass that barrier, summoning rituals involving demons force their native tongue to that of the summoner. Since I summoned you, you were given the ability to speak Azuran, my native tongue.¡±

    ¡°Azuran¡­¡± James muttered. He looked down at his tin cup of tea, his thoughts circling back to when he had been summoned. He didn¡¯t remember a point in time where his words had sounded weird out loud or felt strange after speaking. ¡°This is so weird.¡±

    ¡°It is strange. You sound like a native despite the weird accent your words bring,¡± Dahlia admitted. ¡°It¡¯s not noticeable unless you speak out your strange sayings.¡±

    ¡°Strange sayings?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Yes, sometimes you¡¯ll say things that make little sense,¡± Dahlia gently pried the tin cup from James¡¯ hands. She took a sip before continuing. ¡°Like when you told me you were made of all ears, or when you ¡®bit the bullet,¡¯ as you said. I could understand some of them, but others are¡­¡±

    ¡°Confusing,¡± James finished.

    ¡°Yes, Exactly,¡± Dahlia sighed. If you want to keep your status as an outlander secret, refrain from saying such things.¡±

    James pondered on what the shaman was telling him. She was right in a lot of ways. He needed to be careful about what and how he said things. Dahlia had already told him what this world thought of outlanders. They were either plagues upon Azura or messages from the gods. Neither sounded good to him.

    ¡®The last thing I need is a witch hunt on my ass. Or a group of cultists thinking that I¡¯m their savior. Best if we keep my summoning a secret between all three of us,¡¯

    As James considered changing his way of speaking, he noted the shaman''s gesture towards the pot in the middle of the fire. The pot steamed and shook, and the smell of its contents reached James¡¯ nose.

    ¡°There¡¯s some porridge I started making earlier. It should be ready now,¡± Dahlia pointed out before handing the man his wooden bowl from last night. James looked down at his bowl, which still had bits of stew from last night. Still, his growling stomach didn¡¯t care much for a dirty bowl, so James ignored it.

    Soon enough, both the shaman and the otherworldly man were having breakfast. Both were too focused on eating to notice Seamus joining them by the fire as he took their lead and grabbed himself a bowl.

    <hr>

    Havor watched as the ship burned, its deck nothing but flames as it slowly sank deeper into the sea. It reminded him of Serpent¡¯s Bane when it sank, except this time, there was no live crew trapped in the burning ship. Havor sighed, turning away from the sight as Helen walked by, her face pale and guilt-ridden.

    ¡®You can try to hide it, but I can tell you really didn¡¯t want to kill anyone on that ship. You only attacked that mercenary to get on Deimos¡¯ good side,¡¯

    Havor was more than bitter at her involvement. He had such high hopes for that fight, but she had ruined it because she didn¡¯t want to kill any of the defenseless crew members. Havor hadn¡¯t had a good fight in ages, not even during that Halvorson raid they did weeks ago.

    ¡®I won¡¯t find a good one, either, by moping about it. Besides, Deimos showed up just when she did. He would¡¯ve made quick work of the mercenary even if she wasn¡¯t there.¡¯

    The marauder turned his head to the man himself, who was on the Bloody Mary giving orders to his crew. Deimos looked calm and orderly, far from the man he had been the night before. Havor had seen Deimos do many things throughout the years, but he had never seen him be as brutal as he had been recently.

    ¡®First, that poor bastard back in Yorktown. Now, that mercenary on the ship.¡¯

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    Havor recalled how personal Deimos had gotten with both of them, how he stared into their eyes as their souls left this world. Havor shivered, knowing that this newfound brutality had started around last month when they had raided and killed most of the Halvorson Clan.

    ¡®Did killing Yorn do something to Deimos? Or is it something else?¡¯

    Whatever it was, Havor almost didn¡¯t want to know.

    ¡°Havor!¡± Deimos¡¯ booming voice reached the bald marauder, almost making him jump.

    ¡°Yes, Deimos?¡± Havor asked as he turned to the Bloody Mary.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to leave you in charge of Frostbite and her crew,¡± Deimos stated, his hand stroking his beard.

    ¡°Why is that?¡± Havor asked, wondering what Deimos had in mind. In response, the marauder chieftain gestured towards Eli, who stood next to him with his crow familiar on his shoulder.

    ¡°Eli has informed me of someone who had escaped last night¡¯s skirmish. They had been on the move in a rowboat and had recently gotten in contact with another merchant ship. I¡¯ll be going to intercept them, make sure they don¡¯t escape,¡± Deimos explained. ¡°I¡¯ll take the other marauders, so I¡¯m leaving you and Helen to deal with the town. We¡¯ll also leave you the other¡­ rabble,¡± he gestured towards the deck of Frostbite, where the rest of the bandits argued over loot distribution.

    Havor grimaced at the sight but turned to Deimos, nodding. ¡°Yes, sir, we¡¯ll make do with what we have.¡±

    ¡°You better. You¡¯re only dealing with a small town that¡¯s already scared of us. Don¡¯t fuck this up, Havor. I¡¯ll come back when we¡¯re done with the runner. Hopefully, by then, you¡¯ll have Seamus Halvorson on a silver platter and the town in flames. Otherwise, it¡¯ll be your head,¡± Deimos warned.

    Havor nodded, which Deimos took as confirmation. Soon, the marauders parted ways, the Bloody Mary sailing off into the distance as the Frostbite floated placidly in the black waters. Helen walked up to Havor, a confused look on her face.

    ¡°Where¡¯s he going?¡± She asked, sitting on the railing.

    ¡°He¡¯s going to tie up some loose ends. We are going to deal with the townsfolk tomorrow,¡± Havor explained. Helen looked at him quizzically.

    ¡°What if they give up the target willingly?¡± She asked. Havor didn¡¯t look at her.

    ¡°We¡¯ll still burn the island to the ground,¡± he said simply. His blunt answer caused the other marauder to stand up in protest.

    ¡°What? And kill all those innocents?!¡± Helen was braver now that she wasn¡¯t under the watchful eye of Deimos and Eli¡¯s raven.

    ¡°Deimos said to burn it down, so we¡¯re burning it down!¡± Havor gritted his teeth and turned to the blonde woman. ¡°Unless you want to deal with Deimos, I suggest you shut up and do your job!¡±

    Helen opened her mouth to say something else. A second of silence followed, and instead of arguing, she wisely shut her mouth. She stormed off right after, her hands clenched into fists. Havor knew she was scared of Deimos, as any sane person would be.

    Havor didn¡¯t want to admit it, but he was also scared. He had no doubts that Deimos would gut any of them without hesitation. There was a reason why there were no ex-marauders. Havor swallowed his fear of the man and turned his gaze back to the open sea again, where the Bloody Mary sailed off into the distance.

    ¡°Just do your job,¡± Havor murmured again, not to Helen but himself.

    <hr>

    James slung his rucksack over his shoulder, his lungs breathing a breath of relief. Thankfully, packing up the camp wasn¡¯t as difficult as he had expected. He attributed his newfound strength and stamina to one simple answer: honest to god sleep.

    James had been without rest for so long that he had forgotten what it felt like to sleep fully. Even in a raggy tent on rough ground, his body never felt better. It almost felt as if the gods themselves rejuvenated his body.

    ¡®Or me.¡¯ Faust chimed in.

    ¡®Oh, fuck no, you cannot take credit for that.¡¯ James angrily thought back. ¡®I have been sleeping like shit for the past month, and last night was the first time I actually got to sleep a full eight hours.¡¯

    That prompted a response from Faust.

    ¡®Say what you will. Just remember that I¡¯m a part of you now and control how your body recovers.¡¯

    With that, the spirit went silent once more. James had already gotten used to these little banters with Faust, which had felt more normal as time passed.

    ¡°Are you two going to stand there all day, or are we going to keep moving?¡± Dahlia called out. ¡°We only have one day until those marauders return, and I¡¯m not keen on wasting it.¡± The shaman had her arms crossed, impatiently tapping her foot.

    James sighed, remembering the whole reason they were out there. It was a grim reminder, but he knew they had little time to prepare.

    ¡°All right, then, let¡¯s get a move on.¡± James gestured for Seamus to move, who responded with a tired groan. The trio would embark on their long walk, leaving behind the remnants of their campsite.

    They walked through trees and steep hills for a while, avoiding getting caught up in deep snow banks and frozen creeks. James lost track of the time during their trek, his right hand instinctively rubbing at his left wrist.

    ¡®Really wish I had bought myself that new watch.¡¯

    His old wristwatch had died on him a few weeks before his summoning. Getting a replacement was a task he had pushed to the back of his mind. James regretted not buying a new one. Having a digital timepiece in this techless world would have been useful.

    Regardless, James could always look at the sun¡¯s position for a rough time estimate. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but what could he do? The tired man craned his head to look up at the sky¡­ Which was covered in gray clouds.

    ¡°Seriously?¡± he muttered under his breath. ¡°Does the sky ever clear up?¡±

    ¡°Sure, only when it¡¯s not snowing, raining, or hailing,¡± Dahlia answered. There was a hint of a smile on her face as she glanced at James.

    James knew very little of Valenfrost, but he doubted he would ever shake off the depressing atmosphere of this part of the world. It was getting hard to believe that anyone would actually want to live in the North. James gave a defeated sigh at the thought of never seeing the sun again.

    ¡°I think we¡¯re almost there,¡± Dahlia said from the front of the group, gesturing towards something. James raised his head to see what she was looking at. He stopped in his tracks, his blood running cold.

    ¡°Are those¡­is that what I think it is?¡± James asked slowly. He stared at what looked like animal skeletons, every bone hanging from a branch in the tree line. Accompanying them were whole wolf corpses, strung up in full view as they decayed slowly. Some bones looked old, while others still had fresh blood staining them.

    ¡°What kind of person is this guy, Dahlia?¡± James asked. He felt Seamus bump into him from behind. As a result, the younger man snapped awake, his tired gaze groggily looking around.

    ¡°What? Why¡¯d we stop?¡± Seamus asked. He looked around in confusion before he went still. ¡°Are those bones?¡± There was a hint of fear in his voice, his words shaking slightly.

    "As I already mentioned, he''s been isolated for a while now," Dahlia muttered. She turned to the two men. ¡°James, are you sure you want to ask for his help?¡±

    James took another look at the bones and gulped. They needed this hermit¡¯s help. Even if he had a couple screws loose, this guy was their only hope of finding a solution to their predicament.

    ¡®What other choice do we have?¡¯

    James refused to give up Seamus to those marauders. It was something he never wanted to consider. He wasn¡¯t much of a good person himself, but James would rather go through another fight with Deimos before he sent an innocent man to certain death.

    ¡°We came this far. Let¡¯s not waste our only chance,¡± James said. With his choice made, he took a deep breath of the cold before walking again. Dahlia and Seamus followed behind, despite the latter''s hesitation about moving forward.

    The trio would walk through the unknown woods, which were now littered with hanging wolf carcasses and the remains of other creatures. James couldn¡¯t even recognize some of the animals he spotted. After what seemed like an eternity of slowly walking through what seemed like Ed Gein¡¯s art gallery, they all finally arrived at a snowy clearing.

    James could see a wooden fence and gate ahead, which looked old and was clearly falling apart. He slowly approached the gate, both Dahlia and Seamus following close behind. James peeked over the fence, spotting a large wooden shack. It looked the same shape as the fence and gate, albeit without looking too dilapidated. James gently pushed the gate, which swung open with ease.

    ¡°That¡¯s far enough,¡± a gruff voice stated behind the three.

    ¡®Ah, shit.¡¯

    James tensed up, his head slowly turning around to the source of the voice. He came face to face with a man who was roughly his height. He was an older man, around his late fifties, if James had to guess. The stranger had his graying hair tied up behind his head, revealing a long scar on the left side of his face that was partially covered by his gray beard. He wore a rough brown shirt, ripped and frayed in spots.

    The most important detail, however, was that this man had a bow trained on James, the taut arrow aimed right at him. James was still, his eyes wide as he tried his best not to make any sudden moves.

    ¡°We¡¯re not looking for any trouble,¡± Dahlia explained, her hands up as she tried to de-escalate the situation.

    ¡°The blood on his clothes isn¡¯t doing you any favors,¡± the man pointed out, prompting James to slowly look down at himself. His jacket and pants still had blood stains from the wolves they had fought last night.

    ¡°We encountered wolves last night,¡± James explained, hoping it was enough. The old man seemed to think for a bit, but his aim never faltered, causing James unease. He could feel Faust struggle uncomfortably inside his body, as if he wanted out.

    ¡°Why are you here?¡± The old man asked.

    James took a deep breath, hoping that the next words out of his mouth wouldn¡¯t end up with him getting an arrow pierced through his skull.

    ¡®You could probably try to dodge it,¡¯ Faust suggested.

    ¡®Doubt I can dodge an arrow from this distance. Besides, I won¡¯t survive a beating from this guy if I move fast enough.¡¯

    James looked at the man¡¯s arms, which were much bigger than his own.

    ¡®He could beat me to the pulp with little resistance.¡¯

    ¡°We¡¯re here for your help,¡± James slowly explained, keeping his hands visible and still. ¡°Marauders came to Yorktown a day ago and threatened to kill everyone there and burn the island to the ground. We need help fighting back or somehow finding an alternative,¡± he quickly finished his explanation, hoping the man would soon lower his bow.

    The old man muttered something before putting away his bow and arrow. He spat something brown onto the snowy ground before walking past James and to his shack.

    ¡°Follow me,¡± he grumbled, not saying another word as he walked off. James looked at Dahlia and Seamus. The latter of which was still seized up in fear.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he said simply before following the old man into his shack.

 Chapter 14: The Veteran

    Once he stepped inside the shack, James noted how dark everything was. He had to blink twice before his vision adjusted to the low light. There were no windows inside the shack or openings outside the door. The only source of light inside was the fireplace in the living room, which flickered and cast a weak flame.

    ¡°Sit,¡± the old man said. He placed his bow and quiver nearby before gesturing toward what looked like an old couch made of wood and fur. James obliged, and Dahlia and Seamus followed his lead and sat down with him.

    ¡°We saw your ¡®decorations¡¯ on the way here,¡± James mentioned, unsure what to call them. The old man made a gruff sound and shifted in his seat.

    ¡°It keeps wolves away. It works on people, too¡ªthe smart ones, of course. The dumb ones always find their way here,¡± he stated clearly. While the darkness of the shack covered his gaze, James could swear the old man was staring right at him.

    ¡°Explain to me what happened. Tell me everything,¡± the stranger said. It was more of an order rather than a question. James looked at Dahlia and Seamus, who seemed just as unsettled as him.

    ¡°All right,¡± James started, looking back at the old man. He would go on to explain their entire story to the hermit, starting from the beginning. Dahlia and Seamus would chime in, retelling their perspectives and recounting events. One thing was sure, they all left out the part about James being from another world, instead focusing on explaining the current situation.

    The old veteran listened to every word but remained silent throughout the whole thing. James wasn¡¯t even sure if he was entirely focused on their story.

    ¡°So we headed here hoping you could help us,¡± James finally finished. He watched the man silently mull it over, his heartbeat making itself present in his ears. Everything they had gone through was to find another way out of this hellish situation. This was their last attempt at finding a third option.

    ¡°Can¡¯t help you,¡± the hermit said. He stroked his beard as he laid back on his chair. ¡°Sorry you came all this way to hear this. I can¡¯t help with your situation.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± James asked, standing up in surprise. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because we¡¯ll die if we try fighting back,¡± the hermit said simply, as if it were just the way of life. Judging from your story, you¡¯re dealing with a group of dangerous men who know nothing about the concept of mercy. I¡¯d say your only option is to send that kid to them and hope they don¡¯t cheat you over.¡± The veteran gestured towards Seamus, who stiffened at the suggestion.

    ¡°They¡¯ll kill me¡­¡± Seamus protested, but the old man waved that away.

    ¡°And they¡¯ll kill you if you try to fight back. Face the facts; you¡¯re going to die no matter what your friends do. At least try to take the reasonable way out,¡± he muttered before standing up.

    James shook his head. ¡°We didn¡¯t come out here for nothing! You realize that giving in to these bastards is suicide!¡± He argued, stepping towards the veteran as he pointed at him. ¡°You don¡¯t know these assholes. They¡¯ll kill us all! They¨C¡± James couldn¡¯t finish his sentence as the older man grabbed his wrist, twisting it so that it made James shift and quickly drop onto a knee.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know shit,¡± the veteran growled, looking down at James. ¡°Don¡¯t think you¡¯re some hero because you want to save one life over others. Do the rational thing and give up. You¡¯ll save more lives that way.¡± He let go of James¡¯ hand, pushing him back onto his ass.

    ¡°You really don¡¯t know these marauders¡­ Do you?¡± James gritted his teeth as he got right back onto his feet. ¡°They¡¯re beyond reason. Beyond thinking rationally.¡± He stared at the old veteran, who glared back silently. They both stood silently before James felt Dahlia¡¯s hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°James. Let¡¯s go,¡± she whispered softly. James turned back to look at the shaman. He saw how tired she looked, her eyes filled with worry.

    ¡®No¡­ she looks defeated.¡¯

    He could see how Seamus had the same look on his face. James slowly relaxed, feeling his shoulders sag as the feeling of defeat slowly hit him. He sighed, swallowing his anger as he turned his back on the old man, who stayed silent.

    ¡°Fine,¡± James muttered in defeat before he followed the two out of the shack. Just as James reached the doorway, however, he heard the veteran''s gruff voice again.

    ¡°Wait,¡± he called out, causing James to turn around to look at the man. The old man walked up to James, his teeth grinding a bit before he stopped a couple of feet away. ¡°If what you¡¯re saying is true, then I¡¯ll help you. Teach you what I know,¡± the old man stated, catching James off guard.

    ¡®What made him change his mind?¡¯

    ¡°All right. We¡¯ll listen,¡± James responded regardless. Whatever the veteran''s reason, it didn¡¯t matter right now. They had a deadline, and it was about to end soon.

    ¡°Well, first things first. Come inside.¡± The veteran turned his back to the three, walking back into his shack as James called out.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Call me Harald,¡± the man answered, not skipping a beat as he returned inside.

    <hr>

    Less than one day. That was all they had until the marauders came to Yorktown and killed everyone on the island. Despite the short time they had, James was currently ¡®training¡¯ with Harald, who was kicking his ass.

    The otherworldly man rolled on the cold, hard ground, which he was already getting used to tasting. He could feel his lungs burning as he tried to catch his breath.

    ¡®Seamus just needs to hold him off for a bit until I can¡ª¡¯

    James watched the young man roll on the ground immediately after that thought. A feeling of dread washed over him as he knew Dahlia was the only thing between him and Harald. His hope was soon crushed when he watched the shaman land on her ass, clutching her ¡®sword¡¯ as she panted in exhaustion.

    ¡®Never mind, then.¡¯

    James clutched the branch that was his ¡®sword.¡¯ He brushed the sweat from his eyes before standing up to meet Harald¡¯s advance. James didn¡¯t stand a chance, his branch barely blocking Harald¡¯s own. James felt the impact of the branches sending vibrations to his wrist, rattling him a little. He soon felt Harald¡¯s foot sweep his own, making the young man land on his ass for the fifteenth time.

    ¡°Sloppy,¡± Harald said simply, a hint of amusement in his voice as he lightly kicked James¡¯ side. ¡°Your stance is unrefined, your footwork is atrocious, and you have obviously never used a sword before,¡± he stated before moving to Dahlia.

    ¡°You obviously know how to use a blade, yet your attacks are wild. It¡¯s like you haven¡¯t been in an actual fight before.¡±

    Harald finally walked over to Seamus, who was panting heavily as he lay on his back.

    ¡°Strangely enough, you¡¯re the only one who knows how to fight, and your footwork isn¡¯t half bad. The problem is, your attacks lack conviction.¡± He rubbed his beard, seemingly in thought. ¡°You¡¯re going to need to fix that soon¡­ otherwise, you¡¯ll end up dead sooner than you think.¡±

    Harald turned to all of them, addressing everyone, ¡°At this rate, you¡¯ll all die if you take on a full assault by yourselves.¡±

    James sighed as he sat up, slowly catching his breath.

    ¡®He¡¯s right. We can¡¯t turn into soldiers and fighters in a day. We need an alternative.¡¯

    James looked at Dahlia and Seamus, who seemed to realize the same thing.

    ¡°Guerrilla tactics¡­¡± James thought aloud. He remembered the term back on Earth and how he had learned about it in his high-school history class. It was one of the few interesting things he had paid attention to back then.

    ¡°What?¡± Dahlia asked, confused.

    ¡°It¡¯s a strategy back on Earth. We hit them hard and fast, run away, repeat.¡± His old teacher wouldn¡¯t have approved of such a half-assed explanation, but it was enough to catch Harald¡¯s attention.

    ¡°I think I know what you¡¯re talking about, and it might be enough for those marauders,¡± the old man murmured as he rubbed his chin.

    Harald asked everyone to stand up again, even though they were tired from the brief sparring match. This had all begun back when the veteran inquired about their fighting skills. His simple question had turned into a practice session, where Harald wanted to know if they knew how to fight at all. The short answer was ¡®Not really.¡¯

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°What do you know about setting traps?¡± The veteran asked, his eyes scanning the three.

    Dahlia raised her hand slightly. ¡°I know how to trap animals. Deer, rabbits, the animals you need to eat to survive,¡± she explained.

    ¡°Good. Do you know how to adjust them to humans?¡± Harald asked.

    Dahlia raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. ¡°Do you really think they¡¯ll be dumb enough to fall for traps?¡± she asked.

    The veteran gave her a smile. ¡°You really think they wouldn¡¯t? Every man makes mistakes, even if they are careful about everything.¡±

    Harald looked up at the sky, which was still blanketed by clouds. James was unsure of how much time had passed since sunrise but knew they had to prepare quickly before the day was over.

    ¡°I can teach you three how to effectively place the traps you need to pull off a proper defense. But it probably won¡¯t be enough¡­¡± Harald stroked his beard in thought, grumbling something to himself.

    ¡®I remember doing something like this¡­ I think?¡¯

    The sight was familiar to James, which surprised him. He could feel a headache coming on as he tried to figure out what it was. Just then, a sudden sharp pain coursed through James¡¯ head and body, detaching himself from reality.

    ¡®No¡­¡¯

    Both spirit and man realized as they fell to a knee, their hands clutching at their heads. James and Faust''s collective minds were now one, their memories merging.

    ¡®It¡¯s not James¡¯ memory. It¡¯s Faust¡¯s.¡¯

    Both their voices rang out just as their body lost consciousness.

    <hr>

    It was hazy, like a dream. Faust looked around the blurred memory, barely making out anything as he walked slowly. It was like wading through thick mist, every part of his body heavy and tired. It didn¡¯t last long, however. The world slowly cleared up around him, showcasing his surroundings. He soon spotted the Legate, stroking his beard as he briefed the surrounding soldiers.

    ¡°We¡¯ll hit the bastards from the side, hiding in the town buildings as our spellcasters summon a fog spell. We¡¯ll have traps set up throughout the town. Hit those bastards quick and hard.¡± The Legate gestured towards Faust, who was standing behind the group of grunts who were being addressed.

    ¡°Centurion Faust! You will be with me. Your job is to ensure none of those knight bastards try to escape from our ambush. They must be positioned in the way we have discussed, understood?¡±

    ¡°They will know the true wrath of the Legion,¡± Faust responded with a nod. He looked around the camp, his fist impacting his chest. ¡°Tonight, those Lumen bastards will learn our empire¡¯s name!¡± he shouted, his fist raising to the sky. ¡°Aye, true to Cyrus!¡±

    Just as the rest of his fellow legionnaires joined the cheer, the memory shifted in waves. The visage of the Legate faded away, along with the rest of the grunts. Visages of a town passed through before being replaced by that of a field. Before he knew it, Faust was suddenly in the middle of a battle that had awaited him. Bodies littered the ground, their colors ranging from Legion green to Lumen blue.

    The Centurion barely had time to analyze the situation before a spear was thrust at him. He dodged the attack from a pikeman desperately trying to stab him. Faust waited for an opening, raising his foot before he finally countered.

    He stomped on the enemy¡¯s spearhead, leaving the pikeman open. Without hesitation, he swiftly lopped off the bastard¡¯s head with his gladius. As the man fell to the ground, bloodied and headless, Faust turned to meet a wounded knight, who was in mid-swing with his claymore. Faust dodged the attack, barely missing the blade as it cut through his helmet¡¯s mane.

    Faust used his free hand to grab the man¡¯s shoulder before swiftly planting his knee into his gut, knocking the air out of him and making the knight drop his claymore. Faust grabbed the knight¡¯s breastplate, pulling him in so he could look into the helmet¡¯s visor.

    ¡°Your first mistake wasn¡¯t running from this battle,¡± Faust bashed the man¡¯s helmet in with the pommel of his gladius, feeling the man struggle against his attacks. ¡°Nor was it then when you missed my neck,¡± he muttered. Faust plunged his gladius¡¯ blade into an opening in the knight¡¯s armor, piercing the man¡¯s gut. He twisted the hilt, making it so the knight could feel it.

    ¡°Your mistake was when you fought and opposed Emperor Cyrus,¡± Faust growled. He stared into the knight¡¯s dying eyes. ¡°Rest in hel, Lumen bastard,¡± he spoke before dropping the dying body to the bloodied ground.

    The memory shifted again, the scene blurring into something different. Instead of an open battlefield, he was now in the middle of a battle-ridden street, surrounded by dilapidated buildings. Faust was inside the town where the actual battle was supposed to be.

    Buildings were on fire, and bodies were everywhere. Faust didn''t seem fazed, even though he was injured and had a bleeding wound on his side. He had lost his helmet, his black hair soaked with sweat as it stuck to his forehead and eyes. He brushed it aside, only focused on one target. In the distance, standing in the middle of the destruction, was the man who had started it all.

    ¡°Kord,¡± Faust growled, his hand gripping his sword tightly.

    The man named Kord was in his full set of steel plate armor, and his white cloak showed the emblem of his house, a Phoenix.

    ¡°Kord! Come and fight me!¡± Faust shouted. He spat out blood onto the ground, his lungs and chest feeling as if they were burning. It was clear that he was on his last legs. It didn¡¯t matter to Faust, however. He only cared about finishing his business with Kord.

    Kord stared at the Centurion, his posture still as he did nothing to acknowledge Faust. It only angered the injured man, who raised his gladius in challenge.

    ¡°Come and fight me, coward! At least the other one gave me a challenge!¡±

    The two knights next to Kord reacted to the taunt. They moved towards the battered Centurion but were stopped by their leader, who raised his arm. The two men stepped back, allowing Kord to unsheathe his longsword. Its entire length was engraved with runes, which glowed a soft blue and radiated with serious magic. Kord slowly took his stance against Faust, his feet positioned strangely.

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re too much of a bastard to actually approach me, eh?¡± Faust chuckled. He took his own position, his gladius at the ready.

    With no more words, the Centurion charged ahead, knowing that all he had to do was to kill this man. To kill the Golden Goddess¡¯ favorite. After that, he could die in peace.

    Faust would finally reach Kord, his gladius positioning for an attack. While it looked like he was going for a wide slash, the Centurion was planning to feint his strike to bait the younger man. If successful, he could finish this fight in mere seconds.

    ¡®He¡¯s mine¡­¡¯

    The thought had run through Faust¡¯s head so clearly.

    ¡°Flash Strike.¡±

    Before he knew it, Kord was nothing but a blur. The knight had only uttered a phrase before Faust felt something cold and biting cut through his neck.

    ¡®Impossible. No man can move that fast¡­¡¯

    Blood soon filled his mouth, the world around Faust turning slowly as he fell. He watched the ground turn up before focusing on his body, which had no head. The world spun slowly before darkness.

    <hr>

    James gasped as he awoke, the cold water waking him up so violently that he couldn¡¯t breathe for a solid few seconds. He immediately clutched at his neck out of fear and instinct, relief flooding into his chest as he felt its intact state.

    ¡°Too hot,¡± James panted out. His body was overheating despite being soaked in cold water. He turned to see a worried Dahlia and Seamus, Harald, standing behind them with a curious look. ¡°How¡­ How long was I out?¡±

    ¡°About an hour,¡± Harald responded, crossing his arms. ¡°We only used the cold water after you started to toss and turn violently. You even yelled in an unfamiliar language.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± Dahlia asked before she sat down next to James. ¡°Your eyes glowed again. Then, we watched you fall down unconscious¡­ Is it the spirit?¡± She looked worried sick.

    James winced as he placed his hand near his temple, feeling it pulse painfully as he tried to remember what had happened. He remembered the vision of the battle, remembering how it had felt when he killed those two men. It was a horrible experience that James wished he hadn¡¯t seen.

    ¡®Faust¡­ What the fuck happened?! That was your memory! Why was I experiencing it?!¡¯ James cursed out the spirit, who finally made himself heard.

    ¡®You think I have any control over what I remember?¡¯ The spirit shot back, his anger flaring throughout James¡¯ body. ¡®It just happened! I can¡¯t control whether you can see my memories¡­ Something must have triggered it¡­ Forced us both into my memories.¡¯

    Faust sounded distressed. Like he was experiencing the same headache James had right now.

    ¡°I guess watching Harald triggered a memory,¡± James said, talking to Faust and Dahlia. ¡°Faust¡¯s memory,¡± he clarified as he slowly stood up.

    ¡°Faust? Spirit? What¡¯s going on here?¡± Harald asked with a raised eyebrow.

    James grimaced, remembering that Harald did not know his situation. ¡°It¡¯s a long story, actually¡­¡±

    <hr>

    Dahlia did most of the explaining, telling Harald about James¡¯ situation, like how he was from another world called Earth and how he had been accidentally summoned to Valenfrost. She told him about how James, quote-unquote, ¡®decided to be a fucking idiot¡¯ and attacked the marauders¡¯ leader, resulting in him getting a sword through his chest.

    While James drank cold water from a waterskin, Dahlia explained the ritual to Harald and how they summoned Faust into James'' body. She even admitted that she herself didn¡¯t know about James¡¯ current condition and how Faust¡¯s spirit would affect him. Harald listened to the whole thing with a straight face, paying attention to every word. Once Dahlia finished, the veteran glanced at James, who was doing his best to cool off.

    ¡°That¡¯s one hell of a story. I¡¯m not even sure if I believe any of it. But I know one thing. You all meddled with something you shouldn¡¯t have. First, it was the travel between worlds, then the marauders, and now.¡± He looked at Dahlia, giving her what seemed like a scolding look. ¡°Now, you disturbed the nature of life itself. And danced on the line between life and death.¡±

    Dahlia stood, gesturing towards James. ¡°I couldn¡¯t have let him die! You have to understand. I¡¯m the reason he¡¯s here! I¡¯m responsible for his safety, whether or not he likes it.¡±

    ¡°Dahlia¡­¡± James started, but Harald cut him off, his hands raised in defense.

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying your intentions are bad. Just make sure you know that these actions have consequences. Who knows what would¡¯ve happened if your ritual failed,¡± Harald pointed out. ¡°Hell, James is already feeling the effects of this spirit. Who knows if it¡¯ll get worse?¡±

    ¡°It won¡¯t,¡± James countered, slowly standing up as everyone looked at him. His headache had gone away already, his body not overheating anymore. ¡°Faust¡¯s spirit will keep me alive. At least until I can heal my original wound.¡±

    ¡®You think it¡¯s possible?¡¯ Faust asked. James nodded, taking in the cold air as he smiled confidently.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just focus on what¡¯s important right now: Saving this island from those bastards. I might know how to deal with them, too. Call it requisitioning another plan.¡±

 Chapter 15: Speed Training

    Seamus furrowed his brow as he tied up the last knot, looking at Dahlia for approval. She rubbed her chin, examining the snare he had made. Seamus hoped it was good enough, knowing well enough that he tried more times than he counted. Meanwhile, in the background, he could hear Harald teach James how to fight. This meant that Seamus was currently hearing James get his ass handed to him multiple times.

    He turned to watch the two fight, James swinging his branch like a child while Harald dodged and countered his attacks.

    Seamus felt a sense of nostalgia watching the two spar, remembering his own childhood. He remembered how his father had done his best to train Seamus, trying to make him a worthy heir to the clan¡¯s role as Jarl. Seamus didn¡¯t know what was worse: his father¡¯s legacy ending with him or that he would never become the man his father was.

    ¡®Probably both.¡¯

    Dahlia finished looking over the snare, her head slightly nodding in approval. ¡°It¡¯s a little sloppy, but I think you¡¯re getting the hang of it.¡± She looked at the sparring match that was currently happening, frowning a bit.

    ¡°You really think his plan is going to work?¡± Seamus asked.

    Dahlia shrugged. ¡°Either it does¡­ or it doesn¡¯t,¡± she said simply, unsettling Seamus. Those definitely weren¡¯t words of encouragement.

    ¡®Then again, what choice do we have? We don¡¯t have a better plan.¡¯

    Seamus had some faith in James, as they truly had nothing better to put it in.

    <hr>

    James panted heavily as he landed on his ass, his ¡®training sword¡¯ now broken into two.

    ¡°How did you survive back on Earth?¡± Harald asked, passing James his own training sword, which was just a branch like the previous one.

    ¡°To be fair, we sort of evolved out of the ¡®kill or be killed¡¯ stage of life fairly recently,¡± James explained as he slowly stood back up. He brandished his new sword at Harald, who had grabbed another branch from nearby.

    ¡°Really? This Earth of yours sounds interesting. You should tell me more about it another time¡­ if we get through this.¡± Without warning, Harald charged at James, his branch already in full swing. James barely blocked it, his arm vibrating from the two swords'' sudden impact.

    ¡°Your stance is off again,¡± Harald pointed out, his foot kicking James¡¯, causing the young man to stumble back. He tried to regain his balance just as Harald advanced. James¡¯ body tensed up, his feet moving into the right position as he blocked the incoming attack. Harald grinned as the ¡®swords¡¯ clashed again.

    ¡°There it is,¡± the veteran muttered.

    ¡®What happened?¡¯

    ¡®I happened,¡¯ Faust remarked. ¡®I took control for a bit. Fixed your stance and footwork.¡¯

    ¡®The hell, man?¡¯

    James remembered how it had felt when Faust had tried to take over his body. This was different, but it felt so damn similar that James felt uncomfortable with the idea of Faust controlling his body, even if it was temporary.

    ¡®Still, I guess it could be useful.¡¯

    James blocked another attack from Harald. James allowed Faust to temporarily take control, letting him control his footwork for a solid second. Unlike last time, however, Faust messed it up, causing James to stumble back and fall like he had so many times before.

    ¡®What happened?¡¯ James asked the spirit, who shrugged his metaphorical shoulders.

    ¡®Still not used to this body, remember?¡¯ Faust reminded him, causing James to groan silently as Harald¡¯s branch poked his side.

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    ¡°At this rate, the marauders will destroy Yorktown and burn this island to the ground by the time you learn the basics,¡± the old man commented.

    James got up, gritting his teeth as frustration set in. ¡°You can¡¯t seriously expect me to learn so much in less than a day, right?¡± He complained before he raised his ¡®sword¡¯ at Harald.

    They went at it again, this time with James managing a counter-attack at the veteran, hitting him finally. James¡¯ victory was cut short when Harald swept him off his feet again, making the young man land on his ass for the hundredth time.

    ¡°I expect you not to get yourself killed in the next twenty-four hours,¡± Harald growled. ¡°You won¡¯t need to fight them face to face if your plan goes well. But if it doesn¡¯t¡­¡± He pointed the end of his branch at James¡¯ nose, barely touching it. ¡°You¡¯re going to need all the fighting experience you can get.¡±

    James nodded, swallowing as he got back up. He took a deep breath as he raised his ¡®sword¡¯ again. He could understand what Harald was trying to do, even if it barely raised his chances of surviving.

    ¡°All right, let¡¯s not waste any more time,¡± James panted out before lunging at Harald.

    <hr>

    The day was almost done, the sky turning darker as Seamus watched Dahlia spar with Harald. James was next to the young man, snoring lightly as he rested against a tree, with red marks on his pale skin, all from Harald¡¯s training. Dahlia had left Seamus with James to teach him how to set up traps, but James had fallen asleep while setting up his snare. Seamus let him rest, knowing full well how much energy training can take out of someone. He didn¡¯t have to train, as Harald knew the young man could fight.

    Seamus sighed as he rested against the same tree, watching Dahlia get up from the ground and swing her ¡®sword¡¯ at Harald, who easily parried her attacks. Seamus could tell she knew how to fight but didn¡¯t know how to pick her moments.

    The young man sighed, shuddering at the thought of being in an actual fight with someone else. It was a terrifying thought, reinforced by the fact that he might face marauders the next day.

    ¡®I doubt I can face those monsters. Let alone win a fight.¡¯

    Seamus shuddered again, hoping that James¡¯ plan would work. He looked at the blond man, who had done more in two days than he had in his entire life.

    ¡®He¡¯s braver than me or stupider¡­ or both, actually.¡¯

    Seamus remembered how James had protected him and how he had stepped in during that bar confrontation to make sure Seamus didn¡¯t get beaten to a pulp. He had faced the marauders without hesitation, paid the price for it, and still wasn¡¯t terrified to face them again.

    ¡®What kind of place is ¡®Earth¡¯?¡¯

    Seamus knew that there was no person in all of Valenfrost who would do the same things James had done. It was something he would hear about in those old children''s stories, the ones about brave knights and selfless kings. Seamus laughed a bit, knowing he was getting carried away with his thoughts again.

    ¡®No, James is simply strange. With a bit of stupidity in him.¡¯

    Seamus wondered if James was the exception in his world or if everyone else on ¡®Earth¡¯ was just as strange as him. Just as Seamus was about to wake up James to ask him about this very question, Dahlia collapsed to the ground, reaching her limit for the day.

    ¡°Seamus! James!¡± Harald shouted to the two, waking James from his brief nap. Seamus watched James wake up, momentarily confused, before realizing that Harald was calling them over.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get going,¡± Seamus said as he stood, helping James up on his feet. James sleepily mumbled his thanks as they walked, rubbing his exhausted eyes. Once they had reached Harald, he gave them both a nod, his eyes scanning the three. Dahlia and James looked exhausted and definitely in no shape to continue training. The old man sighed, stroking his beard as he looked at the darkening sky.

    ¡°This will have to do. For now,¡± he said simply. ¡°You all are going to sleep in my home for the night. Before dawn, we¡¯ll head to Yorktown. I know a faster route there, so hopefully, we¡¯ll get there before the marauders do.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s alright if we sleep?¡± James asked, stepping forward. It¡¯s barely dusk. I¡¯m sure we can¡ª" Harald¡¯s hand interrupted James.

    ¡°Sleep. You¡¯ll need it.¡± The old man was adamant, which James seemed to realize right away. Seamus wondered if this faster route would be enough and if they could get to Yorktown in time. Before he could ask, however, Dahlia spoke up.

    ¡°How long will this new route take? The one we used to get here took us a day.¡±

    The old man shrugged. ¡°About four to six hours. Which is why we¡¯ll need to leave early. Before dawn. So I suggest you three get to sleep now. We¡¯re gonna have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.¡± James and Dahlia seemed to want to protest but stopped short at the veteran¡¯s gaze. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get inside. You can set your sleeping rolls by the fire.¡± The old man turned without saying another word, heading to the fence surrounding his shack.

    Seamus watched as the man opened his gate, leaving it open as he headed inside. He looked over at James, who yawned tiredly.

    ¡°I guess we could use the rest. We¡¯re going to have to be as alert as we can tomorrow if we¡¯re going to pull it off,¡± James muttered.

    Dahlia stood up, yawning, too. ¡°Can you go over the plan again?¡± she asked, brushing some of her black hair away.

    ¡°Ugh¡­ it took James a solid hour to explain it all. Harald said to rest, so rest. We can go over the plan tomorrow,¡± Seamus muttered. He was exaggerating about James taking an hour to explain the plan since most of that hour he had to go over it with Faust to make sure they got it right. Still, it got the point across to the two. They both nodded, agreeing with Seamus, before heading to the shack, where their rucksacks were waiting to be unpacked. Seamus followed close behind, closing the gate behind them.

 Chapter 16: Night Terrors

    Not everyone lived in Yorktown, as some of the island''s population made their homes on the gravel shores, becoming anglers or lumberjacks. While very few did this, it wasn¡¯t strange to find a home or two by the shore or treeline, usually with a small family living in them. These folks would usually be happy with their lifestyles, opting to have the shores or trees to themselves, far from any competing folk in Yorktown. But this was not a usual night, as the threat of death hung on every single soul who lived on the island.

    <hr>

    Erik awoke in a cold sweat, gasping for air as he sat in bed. Despite the slight commotion he had just made, his wife slept soundly next to him. She didn¡¯t wake up this time, as she was already used to his night terrors at this point.

    Erik sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes, trying to remember what he had dreamed. Frustratingly enough, he couldn¡¯t remember the nightmare. The cramped bed was probably the culprit of these night terrors, especially since he and his wife had moved to his brother¡¯s cabin in these forsaken woods.

    ¡®No¡­ it¡¯s not that. It¡¯s those fucking marauder bastards.¡¯

    The whole town had been in chaos, half wanting to find the escaped man the marauders wanted and the other half wanting to rally up a resistance. Erik initially wanted to find and give up the refugee but soon realized that the marauders weren¡¯t bound to morals like other clans. Erik had tried to help rally up a resistance, but his wife refused for him to throw his life away. Especially since Erik had only one leg, his other being lost to frostbite years ago. He wasn¡¯t fit to fight, even if his heart was in it.

    The man looked down at his wife, who was still sleeping peacefully. He grimaced, knowing that he was all she had left, that she was trying to keep herself together throughout the stress of the marauder attack.

    ¡®I can¡¯t blame her for not wanting me to fight. Hel, after what she saw, I doubt anyone would have the spirit to fight back.¡¯

    She was there when the marauders had come into town while Erik was out fishing. She had seen that young man die at their hands, watched as he had bled out on the ground before they dragged him off. Erik doubted he would still have that fighting spirit if he had seen it in person.

    The young fisherman sighed as he swung his legs to the side of the bed, his hand reaching for his nearby wooden leg. He needed some fresh air, perhaps even a walk to the nearby shore. It would do him some good to clear his head.

    With his leg attached and his coat on, Erik stepped out into the night. He was careful to close the cabin door gently so as not to wake his sleeping wife and brother. He breathed in the cold air from outside, feeling a little better as he walked away from the cabin, hoping to reach the shores soon. The fisherman needed to see the ocean again, to taste the salty air while he watched the waves crash. Erik smiled at the thought, knowing that he needed this.

    ¡®Maybe I can find my shack. Get my rod. Catch me a couple big ones.¡¯

    The thought excited Erik, but he knew better than to spend the entire night out there. His walk would have to be short and sweet. There would be no late-night fishing for him. Not before his wife realized he wasn¡¯t there by her side. The last thing he wanted was another argument about his late-night strolls. His wife had always been worried about Erik, especially after recent events.

    ¡®Perhaps she has a point. These might as well be the last of our days together. Better to spend as much time as possible before the inevitable,¡¯

    As his thoughts drifted toward the depressing topic, Erik could hear the familiar sounds of waves crashing.

    ¡°Finally,¡± Erik sighed in relief. He walked a little faster down the dirt trail, the taste of sea salt making itself present in the air. He had reached the shore in no time, where the waves crashed against the gravel beach. The ocean was as beautiful as always, the two moons shining clearly in the parted night sky.

    ¡®Haven¡¯t seen Luna and Callisto together in a while.¡¯

    Erik looked up at the two sister moons, which shone upon the sea below. Luna was the bigger of the two, her craters much more visible than Callisto¡¯s. The older sister¡¯s surface showed remnants of her history, telling a fascinating story to all who could see it. Erik himself wasn¡¯t sure what the origin of those impacts was. He had heard stories from others about how they were remnants of an ancient battle between gods. Some believed they were from a long-gone civilization that had once prospered on the moons.

    Erik himself cared little for those explanations. He instead liked the mystery of it¡ªthe idea that something else beyond the gods had caused it, that the nature of the stars had molded it into what it was. It was a fascinating thought, one that he had had since he was a small boy.

    The fisherman stood there for what seemed like forever, enjoying the view of the two moons above. He would¡¯ve stayed there the entire night had it not been for his aching neck.

    ¡°I should probably get back,¡± Erik thought aloud. ¡°Before they figure out I¡¯m already gone.¡± He took one more look at the sea before he made his way back to the cabin. Just as he did so, something caught his eye. Erik blinked, not even realizing that it had been there.

    There was something black on the sand, its moisture shining in the moonlight. Erik slowly walked towards it, unsure of what he was looking at. The stench soon reached him, smelling of blood and shit. He gagged, turning his head away before forcing himself to look at it.

    ¡°Guts,¡± Erik realized. He noticed how they spread out in the sand. There were drag marks, too, leading from the ocean to further beyond the sand and gravel.

    ¡®These guts fell out of the thing being dragged here¡­but what?¡¯

    They couldn¡¯t be fish guts unless the fish being dragged was the size of a grown man. They existed, but you couldn¡¯t simply drag it out of the water, let alone with its guts out.

    Erik felt nauseated, knowing that he shouldn¡¯t stay here for long. He turned to the tree line, hurrying to return to the cabin.

    ¡®I¡¯ll call it a night. Maybe I could get Derrick to help me find out what happened there. For now, I should get¡ª¡¯

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    Just as Erik got past the tree line, he could feel his fake foot catch on something, offsetting his balance and making the man fall to the ground. He groaned as he sat up in the dirt.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± Erik muttered as he tried to look for his leg in the shadows.

    ¡®It¡¯s got to be here somewhere. Maybe¨C¡¯

    A noise cut his thoughts off, one that chilled him to the bone.

    Klack klack klack

    The sound rang out softly into the night, making Erik freeze up in fear. It sounded like teeth chattering, but it carried a sense of danger with it. Erik looked for his leg again, this time with haste.

    Klick klick klick

    The awful sound rang out again, this time a little closer. The fisherman hurried, his hands searching the dirt and snow. His desperate movements would soon pay off as his fingers brushed against the smooth surface of polished wood.

    ¡®Got it!¡¯

    Erik rejoiced silently as he found his leg, putting it back on as quickly as possible. The sound didn¡¯t return this time, which should¡¯ve been a godsend to the fisherman. Instead, Erik felt uneasy, eyes scanning the forest as he slowly got up. Then he heard it.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± a soft, groaning voice rang out, ethereal and horrifying.

    Erik slowly turned to see the source of the voice. He had to force himself not to react loudly at the sight. The thing wasn¡¯t human. At least, not anymore. It reassembled a man, but his proportions and skin were all wrong and discolored. Bits of his flesh were rotted and missing, exposing muscle and bone. Even his guts were out, hanging from his open stomach. Parts of his body were covered in a familiar pitch-black.

    ¡®Frostbite.¡¯

    Erik¡¯s missing leg ached from a distant memory. The most horrifying part of it all, however, was the crystals. Sharp blue crystals, almost resembling ice, covered half of its body. The corpse¡¯s face had the worst of it. Most of the head was engulfed in the sharp crystals, a lone eye glowing a soft blue in the shadows of the night. The bottom half of his face was a deathly purple, his lips pruned and pulled back to showcase bloodied teeth. Almost on cue, the corpse¡¯s jaw chattered, making the awful noise Erik had been hearing.

    ¡°What the fuck are you?¡± Erik asked. He stepped back as the thing groaned again, its mouth opening to make a guttural noise.

    ¡°Kill me,¡± it rasped. The glowing eye flared as the corpse stumbled to Erik, who stepped back again.

    ''What in the gods are you?!''

    ¡°Get back! I mean it!¡± Erik shouted. He formed his fingers into the holy symbol of a triangle. He tried to think of a prayer, specifically one to Delphine, the Goddess of Healing and Light. ¡°Heed my words, Goddess! I pray to thee! Please d¨C¡±

    Without warning, the thing lunged at the terrified man, lightning fast as it swung its crystalized arm at Erik. The strike barely missed the fisherman, its crystals grazing against his tunic. Erik stumbled back before deciding to run for it, his heart beating out of his chest as he screamed.

    ¡°Derrick!¡± He shouted, hoping his brother could hear him from this distance.

    Klick klick klick

    He could hear the awful chattering and even feel the thing¡¯s presence behind his back. It was gaining on him with every second that passed.

    ¡°Derri¨C!¡± Erik was interrupted when something impacted his back, knocking the air out of him and pushing his body to the ground. He groaned as he turned around, now face to face with the monster that had chased him. Its glowing eye was inches away from his own, its teeth chattering as it approached Erik, who was frozen in fear.

    ¡°Please,¡± Erik whispered just as the thing croaked.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Erik tried to fight back, using his good foot to push it away. The creature grabbed it, effortlessly forcing the leg to bend the other way. Erik¡¯s leg broke with ease and drew a pained scream from him. The man tried to use his hand, but the thing grabbed it and crushed his fingers without hesitation. It shifted closer before using its crystalized hand to plunge deep into Erik¡¯s guts. The agonizing pain was enough to make the fisherman scream. Erik could feel its hand force its way inside, an unbearable cold soon spreading throughout his insides. His body temperature dropped significantly before the monster finally ripped out whatever it grabbed.

    Erik tried to crawl away, to kick the monster back, but the creature would only pull him back, using its crystalized arm to tear into him.

    ¡®I shouldn¡¯t be alive for this! This is hel, pure hel!¡¯

    Erik could only watch helplessly as the thing continued to maul him, tearing out organs and ripping him open.

    ''Someone help me! Delphine! Freyja! Even Myr! Any God! Please!''

    ¡°Just kill me¡­please!¡± Erik would beg in breathless gasps. The thing simply ignored him. It only plunged deeper, torturing whatever was left of the fisherman.

    ¡°Erik!? Where are you?!¡± Derrick¡¯s voice rang out in the darkness.

    ¡®No¡­ please run! Get away!¡¯

    Erik tried to scream at his brother to warn him, but he couldn¡¯t speak. His body was paralyzed, with burning sensations spreading throughout his body. Soon enough, Erik would pass out, darkness engulfing him.

    <hr>

    The sun¡¯s light reflected off the crystals covering Frederick¡¯s body, doing nothing to warm him up from the unbearable cold he had been suffering from. He could feel everything and see everything, yet he couldn¡¯t control his own body. Neither could he control the voices that drove him mad.

    ¡®Kill.¡¯

    ¡®Destroy.¡¯

    ¡®Consume.¡¯

    Frederick wanted them to shut up; he wanted to be alone, and most of all, he wanted to die. Yet his body slowly regenerated, becoming bigger and tougher from the bodies he had consumed. Disgusting crystals covered his left arm, as well as his chest and back.

    His only eye looked at the cabin he was in earlier that morning. Gore covered the walls and windows, as well as what remained of the two innocent people he had consumed after he had killed the first one. All of their remains were crystalized, which worried Frederick.

    ¡®I hope none of them suffer the same fate as me. I wouldn¡¯t wish this on my worst enemy¡­¡¯

    ¡®More¡­Must have more!¡¯

    The voices came back in full force, whispering.

    Frederick angrily shoved them into the back of his mind, but it was futile. They came back in full force, angrily demanding more.

    ¡°No! Please,¡± he begged aloud. Yet, no matter how hard he resisted, he could feel his body move independently. His teeth chattered from the cold, which he had been feeling nonstop since he had turned. The creature he was now moved into the forest, slowly heading off to find more victims to consume.

 Interlude: The Captain

    ¡°Stay quiet. Not a single sound,¡± Mansly Dell muttered.

    The young guardsmen captain did his best to shift the longboat''s sails around the guardsmen, his hands pulling at the rope. He gestured to his fellow man, clarifying that he intended to turn the sails to catch more wind. The other guard nodded, his hand grabbing the other rope. Both men pulled and directed the mast, changing the direction of the sails. Soon enough, the black fabric caught the breeze, shifting the longboat and raising its speed.

    Mansly sighed a breath of relief, his eyes moving to the rest of the men on board. These were the men who had joined him tonight, the ones who were determined to get rid of the marauder threat. All they had to do was to get to a nearby outpost, hopefully before dawn.

    They had left as soon as night fell, pushing off into the sea south of the island. From there, they turned westward, hoping to find a neighboring clan''s outpost or settlement. It was a last resort tactic that didn¡¯t require many people. Yet here were Mansly and his battalion of guardsmen. They had volunteered to come with him to give backup in case they were intercepted. It wasn¡¯t the wisest move, but it made little difference to the captain. Even if he left these men on the island, they¡¯d die. At least if they get caught out here, they could fend off and escape into the sea.

    Mansly regretted leaving Felix and Thomas back on the island. The two guardsmen were the last of Yorktown¡¯s defense. They had assured the captain they would build up a resistance, but Mansly doubted it. The townsfolk were scared, more scared than they had ever been. Never had the small island faced such a threat, not since the barbarians during the hectic years of the Outsider Wars.

    ¡®Perhaps I should have stayed behind¡­¡¯

    Truth be told, Mansly was a coward. He was afraid of facing the marauders, and it wasn¡¯t just because of what happened two days ago. He had heard about the fall of Yorn Halvorson and the rumors of the man who killed him. While he introduced himself as Deimos, Mansly knew of the man¡¯s reputation in the north.

    The Red Death was his more common alias, earned through bloodshed and pillaging. The northern clans, the major ones, feared him for this. Mansly had been from Haven, the city of the north. He had heard of the Red Death as a child. It was nothing more than a rumor and a bedtime story back then. He had always dismissed it, especially since he came to Yorktown years back. Yet, with Deimos watching over the island, that childlike fear was slowly returning to Mansly.

    He cursed at himself for being so weak, for being so cowardly. Yet he couldn¡¯t help but shake at the thought of facing Deimos. At least his guardsmen weren¡¯t so easily shaken. The guardsman''s captain looked at Michael Rowan, who sat nearby. The former shopkeeper had volunteered the day after Deimos had come to town. He wanted to fight, to help save the island from destruction. Initially, Rowan wanted to stay in the town and fight. Yet, after realizing how little of a chance they stood, he vouched to come along with Mansly to help get reinforcements.

    Rowan was determined and ready to fight, a virtue the captain rarely saw in men. Even among the volunteers who came after Rowan, nearly all of them had that look in their eyes¡ªthe look of fear and terror. Yet, the former shopkeeper was the only one who didn¡¯t have that look. The captain was probably staring for too long since Rowan seemed to notice him.

    ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll get to that outpost before daylight?¡± the guardsman whispered.

    Mansly patted Rowan on the shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll get to it. Don¡¯t worry about it. This skiff is faster than it looks.¡± He gave the man a reassuring smile. Rowan returned the smile with one of his own, this one seemingly nervous.

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    ¡°Is your daughter safe?¡± Mansly asked.

    ¡°I hope so,¡± Rowan muttered softly. ¡°I¡¯ve already told her to hide in the woods, where that shaman lives.¡±

    ¡°Do you think she took your advice?¡± The captain prodded.

    Rowan chuckled dryly, shaking his head. ¡°That girl has defied every rule I¡¯ve given to her. Even if the world was burning, I doubt she¡¯d take my word and run to safety.¡± The guardsman sighed. ¡°Still, I hope she¡¯s as smart as her mother. Gods know that she¡¯s taken more from me. It¡¯d be nice for that stubborn girl to care for herself for once.¡±

    Mansly couldn¡¯t help but chuckle softly, ¡°Let us hope our venture isn¡¯t in vain then.¡±

    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s hope,¡± Rowan responded with a smile.

    The captain shifted in his seat, his gaze moving to look around the skiff. While it was usually impossible to see at night, the sister moons, thankfully, were shining their light onto the sea tonight. Their glow was partial, but it was enough to give Mansly an idea of their surroundings. Like before, nothing was out there, only waves and floating debris. The debris had been there since their departure, possibly from whatever ships the marauders had destroyed on their way to Yorktown.

    Mansly was about to settle down in his spot on the boat, but his body stiffened. Something was wrong. The captain looked around, confused. There was a sudden pit in his stomach, a feeling that only worsened as he surveyed the sea. Something was wrong, but what? Mansly turned to his men, who all looked at him with confused and terrified gazes. He blinked in realization. He could see them. Just a minute ago, the captain had trouble differentiating between his right and left hands. Yet now, he could perfectly see the occupants of the longboat.

    The captain looked up into the sky, his heart dropping at the sight of a third orb of light, one that accompanied the sister moons. Yet this wasn¡¯t a third moon nor a star. It was a flare spell, one modified to emit a low glow.

    ¡°Men! Get¨C!¡±

    Mansly could barely get the word out before something rammed into the longboat, sending the sound of splitting wood and screaming men. He was thrown back into the black waters, his gear sending him sinking into the sea. Mansly quickly moved to undo his armor, his hands detaching the belt that held his sword and gear. He needed to be fast. Otherwise, he¡¯d sink to the bottom of the ocean.

    Once his armor and gear were detached, Mansly swam upwards, the murky water providing zero visual for him. Yet he continued to press on, his right hand carrying his backup dagger.

    The captain burst from the waters with a gasp, his gaze set on a horror he didn¡¯t want to witness. Bandits and marauders were shooting arrows and chucking spears into the water, hunting the guardsmen like fish. Mansly quickly swam to whatever was left of the longboat, hoping to grab a proper weapon. Perhaps one of the men left a sword there.

    The captain would only make it to the first piece of debris before an arrow struck his back. He exclaimed in pain, his teeth gritting rightly. He tried to push on, but he was struck by another arrow.

    ¡°Sir!¡± a voice called out. Mansly turned to the source, his eyes settling on Rowan. He was on the sinking boat, his hands armed with a bow. ¡°Dive underwater! I¡¯ll cover¨C!¡±

    He was cut off when a spearhead impacted his face, the sharp tip making a thwacking sound as it pierced through his nose and eye. Mansly watched in silent terror as Rowan¡¯s lifeless body fell into the sea, the sound of splashing water accompanied by the jeers and shouts of savages.

    Mansly Dell felt all the hope sap out of his body, his hand dropping the dagger he held. He could only watch as the marauders massacred his fellow guardsmen, their screams drowned out by the laughs and howling. The captain accepted his fate there and did nothing as his body sank into the black waters, doomed to be nothing but another body in the mass grave of the sea.

 Chapter 17: First Light

    3

    The Raid

    <hr>

    The sun wasn¡¯t up, yet its beckoning light had slowly turned the clouded sky into a pale purple. It was a scenic, almost beautiful view. It would¡¯ve been a nice way to start the day had it not been for the dark ambiance embedded in the atmosphere. James breathed in the frigid dawn air, feeling how his lungs embraced the chill. He was used to the cold now, his ripped jacket doing little to protect him from the temperatures.

    ¡°James, let¡¯s get moving.¡± Harald¡¯s voice caught the young man¡¯s attention, prompting him to turn to meet the old veteran. Harald had donned his old armor from his days as a soldier, but it didn¡¯t seem to have a nice and caring history. The armor was partial, his gambeson visible underneath the plates. On the other hand, James still had his old earth clothes on and had just cleaned the bloodstains. Well¡­ Partially cleaned.

    ¡°Is everyone ready?¡± James asked. He peeked over Harald¡¯s shoulder to look at his two companions.

    Seamus still looked sleepy, his normally bowl-shaped hair now a scruffy mess as he yawned and stretched. Dahlia was right beside him, not as tired-looking as she slung her rucksack over her shoulder.

    ¡°Seamus is still drifting off into sleep, but I¡¯m sure you and Dahlia can keep him awake,¡± Harald said as he headed off.

    James gripped tightly onto the rucksack¡¯s strap as he moved to walk. He felt his knees shake a little with every step as his heart pounded like a drum. Today, life and death hung on the line, and James knew that no matter what happened, people were going to die. He swallowed his fear and joined the others as they left for Yorktown.

    Little did James know that once the day was over, he would never be the same again.

    <hr>

    Havor watched as the sun rose from a distance, the sky changing into a beautiful orange and purple color. He had been up early, cleaning his weapons and maintaining his armor while everyone slept. The marauder couldn¡¯t explain his uneasiness, the same feeling that had woken him up and the same one he had back on that merchant ship.

    ¡®It¡¯s probably the job we have to do¡­¡¯

    Havor turned his gaze to the harbor in the distance, which only had a few small longboats and tiny vessels anchored. He knew he couldn¡¯t call off the job. He knew full well that Deimos would kill him without hesitation. The Red Death had no need for cowards.

    Calling it off would also mean leaving the town to them. Havor looked back at the entrance to the lower decks, his face twisting in disgust. There, below, were some of the most depraved men he had ever met.

    Deimos had spared them weeks ago on the terms that they would help with the raid on the Halvorson clan. The bastards were merciless, killing anyone they wanted as long as they weren¡¯t on the business end of the sword. They were monsters, too, killing innocents during the Halvorson raid and even having their way with the poor women. Havor had thought Deimos would¡¯ve killed them after the job or gotten rid of them. Instead, Deimos had simply turned a blind eye, letting them loose like rabid dogs.

    Havor saw what they had done back on the merchant ship, how they even killed the ones who had surrendered. He had also seen what they had done last night, back when they intercepted a small boat trying to escape. None of the poor souls stood a chance.

    ¡®They have no remorse, no mercy. Animals, the lot of them.¡¯

    Havor grimaced as he looked back at the sea, sighing to himself.

    ¡®Maybe some island inhabitants will build a resistance and kill off those bastards.¡¯

    Havor almost smiled at the thought.

    ¡°Moping around?¡± A familiar woman¡¯s voice rang out, catching Havor off guard. He turned to see Helen still in her sleeping clothes. Normally, seeing her would make Havor pissed, but now he almost felt relieved to see her. He grunted and looked back at the sea with little of a response. Helen didn¡¯t seem to care, taking a seat next to the marauder.

    ¡°When will we have to go?¡± She asked, brushing her short blonde hair to the side as she watched the harbor with the man.

    Havor shrugged. ¡°Anytime we damn please,¡± he stated simply.

    Helen looked at him quizzically. ¡°You don¡¯t sound like your usual self. I honestly thought you were going to go around the ship yelling at everyone to get up and ready for a raid.¡±

    Havor grunted again, a small smile on his lips as he stared at the harbor, watching as the town¡¯s lights slowly twinkled in the distance.

    ¡°I want to see if they somehow build a resistance. Give me a good fight,¡± he explained before hopping off the railing. Helen only stared at him, confused. No one said anything as Havor headed off into his quarters.

    <hr>

    James rotated his shoulder, wincing as his sore muscles reacted to the motions. He was used to the feeling, but yesterday¡¯s training had really pushed his body. James looked at Dahlia and Seamus, who were still walking ahead of him. Dahlia didn¡¯t seem affected, but James had seen her physically wince whenever she slung her rucksack. Seamus himself had been drifting off to sleep from time to time, making both James and Dahlia wake him up now and then to make sure he didn¡¯t wander off.

    Currently, it seemed like Seamus had finally woken up, his feet now walking instead of dragging and stumbling. James looked at Harald, who hadn¡¯t missed a beat the entire walk, his stone face having the same grumpy expression as before. James looked at Harald¡¯s old sword, which was sheathed on the veteran¡¯s side as he rested a hand on it. The sword had runes on its hilt, but they were lifeless, deprived of the magic they once had.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost there,¡± Harald suddenly said, just as they passed a marked tree with runic symbols carved into the wood. They had been walking for a good part of the morning, and the sun¡¯s light was nearing noon. James looked up at the sky, now blanketed with darkening gray clouds.

    ¡®Is it going to snow?¡¯

    He hoped it wouldn¡¯t interfere with their battle plan.

    ¡°How much longer?¡± Seamus¡¯ exhausted voice rang out, followed by a yawn. Before Harald could answer, however, the group stopped, the path leading down a familiar slope. James looked around his surroundings, realizing that they were near a familiar mountain as well. At least, if you can call it that. James looked back down the slope, squinting as he spotted the path he and Dahlia took back on his first day in Valenfrost. They were close now, a fact that made James paranoid.

    ¡°Not much.¡± James simply said, walking down the slope¡¯s path, the rest of his group following behind.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Dahlia exclaimed as they started walking again, stopping all of them. ¡°I need to grab something from my hut. It¡¯s nearby, so it¡¯ll be quick.¡± She looked at Harald, who nodded grumpily. James remembered her hut, a realization hitting him as the shaman headed to her hut.

    ¡°Wait up!¡± James called out, following close behind as she headed off. ¡°What¡¯re you grabbing?¡± James asked, making sure not to trip over any fallen branches or roots.

    ¡°My soapstone, just in case things turn bad down there.¡± The shaman looked at James puzzled. ¡°Why are you coming?¡± she asked. James slowed down a bit, Dahlia following suit as they walked together.

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    ¡°Do you remember when we first met?¡± he asked, recalling the night the shaman summoned him here.

    Dahlia nodded, her eyes looking ahead. ¡°Yes, I remember you running around like a headless chicken before I had to take you down.¡±

    ¡°After that,¡± James winced at the memory.

    ¡°When we were introducing ourselves?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± James confirmed. ¡°Do you still remember the vase I carried around?¡±

    ¡°The vase¡­ I remember,¡± the shaman slowed her walk and looked at James. ¡°You still haven¡¯t told me what was in it,¡± she pointed out with a sly grin.

    ¡°I guess I never really had the chance,¡± James said. He remembered all the shit they had gone through these last couple of days. ¡°The vase isn¡¯t actually a vase. It¡¯s an urn carrying my father¡¯s ashes. I didn¡¯t tell you because I¡¯m not really comfortable with people knowing about it,¡± James sighed, not really wanting to see Dahlia¡¯s expression. He wasn¡¯t sure what the consensus of carrying around a person¡¯s ashes was in this world.

    ¡°Thank Freyja,¡± Dahlia sighed in relief. ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear that, honestly. I thought you were carrying some kind of weird, otherworldly magic in that thing. Thank the gods it¡¯s not,¡± the shaman admitted. Her reaction surprised James, but he was glad the whole thing didn¡¯t weird her out.

    The two eventually reached the hut, which looked the same as it always had, except for the many footprints visible on the snowy ground nearby.

    ¡°Townsfolk,¡± Dahlia pointed out, a look of worry on her face. "They were probably looking for Seamus. Thankfully, it seems like they didn¡¯t wreck too much.¡± She unlocked her door, which was surprisingly intact. James was about to question why the townsfolk didn¡¯t break her door down¡ªuntil his eyes caught something in the doorway. There were subtle runes carved into the frame, all softly glowing red.

    ¡®Security magic. Now that¡¯s something,¡¯

    James admired the runes for a bit before he followed Dahlia into the hut, looking around the place as Dahlia rummaged through her things. He examined the table and disorganized items: the haphazardly strewn pieces of cloth and potions, the herbs and plants that were left out in the open to dry.

    Of course, James would soon spot something unsettling. His gaze rested on the dried blood on the wooden floor, the brownish stain covering half the shack¡¯s floor. He couldn¡¯t help but shudder at the memory of that night.

    ¡®I doubt I¡¯ll be able to sleep here again,¡¯

    James forced his eyes away from the blood. He instead focused his sights on his father, whose urn sat comfortably in the corner. James knelt next to the silver urn, picking it up as Dahlia closed the chest she had rummaged through.

    ¡°I got what I needed¡­ Are you alright?¡± she asked before she pocketed the long piece of chalk that James had seen her use before.

    ¡°Just give me a minute,¡± James muttered quietly as he picked up the urn.

    Dahlia watched the young man interact with the urn, her expression softening a bit. ¡°I¡¯ll be outside.¡± She gave an understanding nod before she took her leave.

    James looked down at his father, sighing as he wiped some dust from the silver surface.

    ¡°Hey, Dad,¡± he spoke out. He had always talked to his father¡¯s ashes, doing it whenever he the needed guidance or had things to get off his chest. It had always been a sort of coping mechanism for James ever since his father passed away. It only strengthened as James got older, being a helpful outlet for the young man. Now, however, it felt almost like he was saying his goodbyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna fight. For a good cause, of course. Not like last time, back on earth,¡± James rubbed the back of his head, smiling a bit as he remembered his petty fights back in school. ¡°I¡¯m fighting for something real this time, but I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m ready yet. Every part of my body wants to give out and¡­ well, I¡¯m afraid.¡± James clenched his shaking hands, his thoughts going back to his encounter with Deimos.

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re still with me. Just like you said all those years ago, remember?¡± James smiled a little. ¡°You¡¯ll always be with me¡­ even in this different world. I love you, Dad.¡±

    ¡®You think the urn will be safe here?¡¯ Faust asked, just as James placed his father back near the corner.

    ¡®For the time being¡­ If I lose, then that means the entire island is done for. So it won¡¯t matter where I put him...¡¯

    James took one last look at his father before turning around, hoping that this interaction wouldn¡¯t be the last he had with the urn. Bracing himself for the day ahead, James headed out of the hut, sighing softly as the cold air hit him again. He looked over at Dahlia, who waited patiently near a tree.

    ¡°Ready?¡± she asked, standing straight.

    James nodded. ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s get back to the others.¡±

    <hr>

    Seamus fiddled with his fingers as he and Harald waited for Dahlia and James to come back, waiting next to the path that led to Yorktown. He had already thrown up twice on the way here, mainly out of nervousness and fear of facing the marauders and, worse, the townsfolk. Despite having no food in his stomach, he had the urge to vomit again, his hand moving to his mouth as he swallowed the feeling again. He hadn¡¯t felt like this since he had escaped his captors, yet even then, he had a cool head.

    ¡®Maybe it¡¯s because of James¡­ back when he nearly died¡­¡¯

    Seamus had to agree with himself there. Seeing what had happened to James gave him a reality check, sending him back to the fearful man he had always been. Still, he was here helping James and Dahlia. Hel, he even had his own part in the plan James had devised, ready to help.

    There was some confidence there¡ªat least, that was how Seamus had felt the other day. Now, he was shaking, his knees weak, and his shirt soaked with sweat.

    ¡°It¡¯s normal,¡± Harald suddenly said, still leaning on the tree as he watched the forest.

    ¡°What?¡± Seamus asked, blinking in surprise as he turned to the old veteran.

    ¡°Whatever you are feeling. It¡¯s normal,¡± Harald pointed out. ¡°Your legs feel like jelly, sweat gets into your eyes, everything feels like it¡¯s closing itself on you. It¡¯s normal for someone like you to be feeling that way.¡± He looked over at Seamus, who could¡¯ve sworn he saw a hint of sympathy in the grizzled man¡¯s face. ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it¡­ and soon you¡¯ll forget it was ever a problem. Just remember to be careful and to stay alive,¡± the old man assured him before he turned his head back to the forest.

    ¡°Uh¡­ Thank you¡­ I guess....¡± Seamus wasn¡¯t sure what to make of the old man¡¯s comment other than to take it as advice and keep it in mind.

    Just as Seamus did that, James and Dahlia returned. James had a distinct air about him, his eyes not meeting anyone¡¯s as he stood around. They all headed down the path without much of a word, knowing what they were all getting into.

    Seamus found a bit of comfort in Harald¡¯s words from earlier, wondering if James and Dahlia were going through the same thing. He took a deep breath from the freezing air, doing his best to straighten himself as he walked down the path.

    ¡®I really hope none of the townsfolk will realize it¡¯s me¡­¡¯

    He wondered what they had all been doing these last two days.

    ¡®Well, there¡¯s only one way to find out¡­¡¯

    <hr>

    As it turned out, the townsfolk were busy with something the entire two days. Just as the group stepped into town, they saw how the marauder threat had affected the harborside settlement. The entire place was barren, with no sign of life as they all trudged the cobbled path. Buildings had their windows barricaded, and their doors were probably locked as well.

    ¡®They¡¯re all hiding.¡¯ Faust pointed out.

    James nodded in agreement as he spotted movement behind one window, which had previously been covered with curtains. James felt a little uneasy as he walked through the once lively marketplace, which was now abandoned and barren.

    ¡°Where is everyone?¡± Seamus asked, looking around as he kept close to the group.

    ¡°Hiding, I suppose,¡± Dahlia answered.

    James opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by something whizzing quickly past his ear.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± James couldn¡¯t help but swear loudly, his body tensing as he tried to find out what had nearly hit him.

    An arrow stuck out of a wooden post, prompting James and the others to turn to where it had come from. Ahead of them was a man wearing gambeson armor, a blue sash over his torso, as he held another arrow in his bow.

    ¡°Stop!¡± the man commanded. ¡°That was a warning shot! I will make the next one land between your eyes if you make any sudden movements!¡±

    James stayed still despite Faust instinctively trying to move his body in response to the threat.

    ¡®That armor and sash. I¡¯m willing to bet he¡¯s one of the town¡¯s guards¡­ Where the hell was he when I was dying?¡¯

    ¡°We¡¯re not marauders!¡± Dahlia shouted from behind James. ¡°We¡¯re from outside town. Here to help fight off the marauders!¡± the shaman added. There was a tense moment between the two sides, the man hesitating for a bit before finally lowering his bow.

    ¡°If you¡¯re here to fight, then follow me,¡± the guardsman said before turning and walking off. James looked at the others, who didn¡¯t seem to want to argue or question it.

    ¡°Better get moving,¡± Harald suggested. Without knowing what else to do, they all followed the guardsman¡¯s lead.

 Chapter 18: Game Plan

    ¡°Where is everyone?¡± James asked, breaking the awkward silence between everyone. They were all following the blue-sashed man throughout the deserted town. James could see how some buildings had their doors and windows boarded up.

    ¡°The townsfolk are hiding in their homes or have fled to the outer reaches of the island. Our resistance is holed up in the tavern,¡± the blue-sashed guard explained.

    ¡°Resistance?¡± James blinked. ¡°So you guys are fighting back?¡± He almost smiled, his excitement already building up. If the town had actually rallied up a resistance, then their chances of winning had increased tremendously.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited,¡± the man responded, almost ashamedly. Before James could ask, his attention was drawn to the building they were approaching. It was the tavern, the same one James had met Seamus in. He still remembered that day when he had stepped in to stop a brawl between the younger man and some drunk asshole.

    ¡®Not really a brawl if it¡¯s all one-sided¡­¡¯

    James stopped for a moment, his focus moving to the courtyard nearby. He stared at what looked like a dark spot on the cobbled ground, drag marks heading to the way out of town. James could feel his chest sting a little at the memory of what had happened, his hand instinctively moving to his chest.

    ¡®This is the place?¡¯ Faust asked.

    ¡®Yeah¡­ this is where I died.¡¯ James nodded almost solemnly.

    The experience was eerie, like something out of the twilight zone. James could clearly recall the terrifying nightmare that had foreshadowed it. An inevitable outcome. The hopelessness of fighting back. It was haunting. His thoughts about the event were silenced when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder, the shaman¡¯s voice snapping him out of his trance,

    ¡°James, let¡¯s keep moving,¡± Dahlia murmured softly. James could hear a tinge of sympathy in her tone.

    ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s go,¡± he coughed before forcing himself to look away from the scene. Without acknowledging it further, he and his group walked off to enter the tavern nearby.

    The interior of the place wasn¡¯t as James had expected. Only three people were waiting inside, one of which was at the bar, drinking tankard after tankard. James turned to the blue-sashed man, who looked more or less frustrated.

    ¡°This¡­ is our resistance,¡± he revealed, gesturing towards the two men at the nearby table. One of them was a town guard like the first guy. The other guy wore a gray, torn tunic that was not really flattering. He also was drinking, not seeming to care much about what was happening. It all looked disappointing and did nothing to raise their actual chances for survival.

    ¡°This is it?¡± James asked, hoping the rest of the said ¡®resistance¡¯ was out elsewhere.

    ¡°As I said, most of everyone had either hid or run off to the woods,¡± the blue-sashed man gestured towards the men, ¡°The guard is Thomas. He and I are probably the last ones defending this town. The rest of the town guard had tried to sneak out on a boat the other night to get reinforcements from any nearby islands. They haven¡¯t returned. The drunk is Jasper; he¡¯s only here because he has nothing to live for. The other drunk is Haggard; he¡¯s not even part of the resistance; he¡¯s only here because the bar is free.¡± The guardsman placed a hand on his chest. ¡°I¡¯m Felix, the only one here who can properly use a bow.¡±

    James looked at Felix, deciding to return the favor or introductions.

    ¡°I¡¯m James. The one next to me is Dahlia, the other one behind her is Seamus, and the tall, scary man is Harald.¡± It was quick to the point since James didn¡¯t want to waste much time.

    Felix nodded, acknowledging the group. ¡°Thank you all for coming to help us fight back, but I¡¯m afraid this tavern is pretty much useless in that regard.¡±

    James sighed, eyeing the table they were all using. It was a map, possibly of the town itself.

    ¡®Maybe this place isn¡¯t all that useless.¡¯

    He stepped up to the table, looking down at the map.

    ¡°This is the map of Yorktown, right?¡± James asked. He ran his fingers across the drawn pathways and buildings, a plan slowly forming in his head.

    ¡°Yes, we were trying to figure out a way to barricade the town, keep them out,¡± Thomas explained. The guard even gestured to the twigs blocking the entrances to the town, keeping the pebbles out.

    ¡°That¡¯s the wrong way to do it,¡± James muttered.

    ¡°What?¡± Felix asked, walking up to the table.

    ¡°Doing it like this, you expect them to give up, eventually. You don¡¯t know the marauders. They will never quit. What I¡¯m thinking of¡­¡± James moved the twigs out of the way, pushing the pebbles into the town.

    Felix looked a bit confused. ¡°How is giving them the town gonna keep them away?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Because they¡¯re not gonna leave this town,¡± James answered, letting his words sink in.

    ¡°You¡¯re not serious, are you?¡± Felix asked in disbelief. ¡°We¡¯re not even close to the amount of manpower¡­¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not going to face them head-on,¡± James pointed out. ¡°Have you ever heard of the term guerilla tactics?¡±

    <hr>

    Havor slammed his fist onto the table, the loud noise shutting the rest of the men up. They were all beneath the deck, surrounding a table that held their plans for the upcoming raid. Eli gave them the map of the island before he left with Deimos. It was an accurate scry of the island¡¯s layout, including the town on it. Havor took a deep breath, stressed from the immature bastards that were his men. They were quiet now, but soon, they would all be talking and yelling again, so Havor tried to make it quick.

    ¡°All right, let¡¯s get back on track again. We will arrive at the harbor, take out any poor bastard who gets in our way, and get to burning.¡± He pointed to the circled areas of the map. "We will split into three major groups and care for these parts of the town."

    ¡°Remember! If you see Seamus Halvorson, try not to kill him! He is important to Deimos and shall be taken prisoner. Everyone else is free to kill. Remember, no survivors besides Halvorson. Does everyone understand?¡± Havor raised his voice, silencing the couple of idiots who had tried to converse in secret.

    ¡°We have already debriefed on what he looks like, but I¡¯ll say it again for the dolts in the back. Seamus has black hair and green eyes. About yay big.¡± He raised his hand roughly around his own height. ¡°Most noticeably, he has a small birthmark on his forehead. Looks like two half circles with a slash going through them both. You¡¯ll know it when you see it.¡±

    The men murmured their agreements, their heads nodding boredly to the debrief. Havor turned to Helen. ¡°Helen will be in group one. I will be in group two. Group three will be led by Jarkin,¡± Havor gestured to the taller bandit, who carried around a long ax. Despite his brutal nature, he was the only one Havor actually had respect for. The former bandit leader wore a mixture of gambeson and plate but had no helmet, exposing his clean-shaven face and tied-up hair.

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    Havor trusted Jarkin would lead his group well enough through the town. He knew full well that the three bandits and raiders in his group were more than enough to get their job done. Havor¡¯s own group comprised three, the same as Helen. With all the town guards resting at the bottom of the ocean, the crew of Frostbite was more than enough for Yorktown.

    Havor drilled into their minds what Seamus looked like, what to expect from him, and the best way to take him in alive. They all knew what to do, but they didn¡¯t seem happy about letting a victim live. Havor didn¡¯t care. He only wanted to get Halvorson into custody by the time Deimos returned.

    ¡°All right, since everyone is briefed, let¡¯s get geared up. Eli gave us some fireball runes before he and Deimos left.¡± Havor pulled out a fireball rune as an example. The stone that held the rune was a black obsidian, unlike the white and gray stones other spellcasters and Wizards used. The fireball¡¯s inscription was carved into the stone¡¯s smooth glass face, the glyph glowing a soft red as it contained the spell¡¯s power.

    ¡°To use it, just speak the spell¡¯s name out like any other casting. Make sure to put your will into it; otherwise, it won¡¯t cast. Again, only use these on my command. Each rune is a one-time use. We can¡¯t waste these. Do you all understand?¡± The marauder¡¯s debrief received more murmured agreements from the bandits, most hinting at disappointment at being unable to freely use the runes. Havor didn¡¯t care.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have a lot of burning to do, so let¡¯s hurry,¡± the marauder said. With that, he turned and headed out with Helen as the men scrambled to get ready.

    <hr>

    There was a deafening silence in the tavern. The only other interruptions were the occasional slamming of tankards by the two drunks at the nearby bar. James was currently watching Felix, who was examining the revised plan proposed earlier.

    James had marked on the parchment where they would have to be positioned, following Faust''s prediction. While the Centurion had little to no memory of his past, he was still vital as a tactician and a guide to their strategy. The entire plan was almost one-to-one with the one James had seen in Faust¡¯s memory.

    Even if the memory showed the Centurion¡¯s side failing and dying, James knew the difference between a clan of knights and soldiers and a small band of marauders. The entire plan had been reworked slightly to accommodate the small numbers he had on his side. Still, he was confident that it would almost certainly work.

    ¡°I can see it working¡­ but there are still people in those buildings.¡± Felix looked at James with a concerned look.

    ¡°Then, let¡¯s evacuate them, get those people as far away as possible,¡± James suggested. The guardsman still seemed unsure.

    ¡°You don¡¯t think we¡¯ve tried that already?¡± Felix nervously rubbed his light-brown goatee as he looked back at the table. ¡°We only got a small portion of the people evacuated today. They¡¯re holding out here in the town hall.¡± He pointed to the middle of Yorktown, gesturing to the large building.

    ¡°They won¡¯t go anywhere else. So if we¡¯re going to go with your plan, then we¡¯ll have to do it by the harbor.¡± Felix gestured to the western part of the map. ¡°Less of a chance of anyone innocent getting in the way.¡± The town guard crossed his arms.

    ¡°Of course, but we¡¯ll have to act before the marauders reach the harbor.¡± James was sure that their time was running thin now. The marauders were probably already on their way to Yorktown, ready to burn it down. Felix looked hesitant, almost debating whether to consider the plan. Despite this, James knew they had no better strategy.

    ¡°All right,¡± Felix finally sighed. ¡°Let¡¯s hurry and set up our ambush.¡± The words struck James in a way he didn¡¯t expect. Instead of relief or reassurance, he felt immense pressure and guilt.

    ¡®He¡¯s trusting the fate of the town onto me, a stranger. How desperate are they?¡¯

    James watched as Felix moved to round up the men in the tavern. He gathered almost everyone, leaving behind the man named Haggard. The drunk didn¡¯t even care about the commotion as he drank at the bar.

    ¡®Crisis spawns desperation¡­ desperation spawns irrationality... irrationality leads to death,¡¯ Faust commented.

    ¡®Do you really think the best thing now is to be a dick?¡¯ James shot back, but there was no response from the spirit. James looked over at his party, who had all listened patiently.

    ¡®Their lives are on us. They trust me and you enough to go with our plan. We have to be our best.¡¯

    No response. James didn¡¯t push it. He had no time for another argument or talk with the spirit. They had a plan to carry out.

    ¡°All right,¡± he started before realizing his hands were shaking a little. James clenched them, forcing them to be still. Let¡¯s make those marauders regret coming here.¡±

    <hr>

    The Abomination trudged through the snow and fallen trees, already having tripped over obstacles getting here. It stopped for a moment, trying to remember where it was going.

    ¡®Consume. Kill.¡¯

    Were the words that rang out in its head. No¡­ his head. The thing doubled over, its head aching in unbearable pain. It remembered what it was, who it was. His name was Frederick, a mercenary for hire. Some merchant hired him to be some kind of guard on a ship that was going somewhere.

    ¡®Where?¡¯

    Was the question the ethereal voice asked Frederick.

    ¡®I¡­ I don¡¯t remember.¡¯

    Frederick suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head, which made him fall to his knees. He moved to clutch at his head in pain but soon stopped. Frederick trembled as he stared at his left hand and arm, which were unrecognizable under the jagged crystals. They now resembled a crude club, all sides of them jagged and sharp.

    ¡°What am I?¡± Frederick spoke in disgust before feeling the sharp pain in his head again, forcing him to double over.

    ¡®Where were you going?¡¯

    The voice demanded, and the other smaller voices agreed in unison. Frederick could feel the thing forcing its way through his mind, flashing his memories before his eyes as it tore through him.

    In just a moment, he was suddenly back at his home in Azurvale, back when he was still a young child and playing soldier near his home on the coast. He could hear his mother calling from a distance, her beautiful voice ringing throughout his head. Frederick gritted his teeth as he forced his mind to pull away from his memories, returning him to reality. But the voices didn¡¯t want to stop. They would never let him stop.

    Frederick didn¡¯t have time to protest as they forced him into another memory. He was now young again but older than last time. He was on a ship, and his first job was as a crewman for a merchant. Frederick could taste the salt in the breeze, the wet spray of the ocean, as he tightened the knots.

    The memory didn¡¯t last long before he was forced into another, this time when he first met the love of his life. They were at a shitty tavern at Vindis, full of life, as criminals and merchants alike drank and gambled. It was a dirty and despicable place, one that spawned only blights. Yet, out of all the scum and gutter trash, there she had been, a shining light in his darkness.

    The memory quickly ended, replaced by the face of the very first person Frederick had killed. It was a young kid taken in by the barbarians south of Valenfrost. The young barbarian had been only defending his ship when Frederick¡¯s company raided them and killed everyone. Frederick had killed them without hesitation, his sword plunging into the barbarian¡¯s neck. He had watched in horror as the kid¡¯s eyes turned blank, the life in them fleeting as Frederick pulled his sword out.

    The next memory came, with Frederick finding himself back with his love, who held his arm as they sat together, watching the sunset over the black waves of the sea.

    The short, sweet memory was ripped away from Frederick, putting him on his first contract as a mercenary. He was staring at the body of the target, an older man who had probably done nothing wrong. But it was far from Frederick¡¯s first kill, and he was numb to it.

    The vision changed, and he watched as his love waved to him from her ship, which sailed away back to her home, Azurvale, where he promised to meet her once he was done with his service as a mercenary. Frederick now knew better as he watched the memory become replaced with another, this time the last.

    He was now older, years passing since the last memory. He was in a marketplace, watching as Adam talked with that shaman he had a crush on. The place was bustling, just like it had always been. Adam gave the shaman her payment, waving to her as he and Frederick walked to their ship. She had said something to them, waving back.

    ¡°Come back to Yorktown next Frost. I¡¯ll be sure to get more of those herbs you like!¡±

    ¡®Yorktown¡­¡¯

    The voices murmured, letting Frederick back into the real world. They were now happy with what they had gotten. Thanks to the helpful memories they had poured through, they knew where they were going and where to go next. Frederick realized what was happening, a horrifying realization creeping into his mind. The voices were beyond ecstatic, as there was a whole new world they had never noticed before. Now, they had a clear goal in mind.

    ¡®Consume it all.¡¯

    The voices rang out, forcing Frederick¡¯s deformed body to move onward towards Yorktown.

 Chapter 19: Catalyst

    Seamus couldn¡¯t keep his hands still as he tied up the last of the snares, looking around the empty ghost town. He was by himself, sent to set up traps in this part of town. He knew James was just putting him far from the action, knowing that Seamus didn¡¯t have it in him to fight. Seamus cursed himself for not insisting on staying with the others or manning up enough to fight the marauders.

    ¡®But you know why you didn¡¯t stay. You coward,¡¯

    Seamus felt angry at himself for not choosing to fight. A part of him wanted to do something, to help, but his fear had won over again, and now he was away from the real conflict, cowering in an abandoned part of town. Seamus looked in the direction James and the others had headed, knowing that he could still go back.

    ¡°No¡­ I still have things to do.¡±

    Seamus turned to the surrounding buildings. He knew he had to evacuate whoever was still here, just in case James¡¯ plan didn¡¯t go well and some marauders got through. His hand felt at the sword the archer gave him back at the tavern. He knew how to use it. Hel, he had practiced with the blade for years. But it wasn¡¯t the experience he lacked. It was the will to use it on someone else. Seamus gulped, telling himself it would not come to that this day. He headed off to see if any of the buildings still had people inside.

    <hr>

    Havor ensured his armor was on right, testing to see if the straps were tightened properly. Helen was beside him, her spear and shield on her back as she stood idly. Havor could feel the salty, cool breeze hit his face as Frostbite tore through the waves, the vessel slowly nearing the small island. He wanted to get this over with quickly before Deimos came back.

    ¡°Do we really have to do this?¡± Helen asked, her voice hesitant.

    ¡°You sit out, and I¡¯ll make sure Deimos knows you disobeyed his orders. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll love to talk with you,¡± Havor responded with a scowl. He sheathed and unsheathed his sword multiple times, making sure it slid effortlessly.

    ¡°These are innocent people, they haven¡¯t¨C¡±

    ¡°Shut it. Don¡¯t weasel your way out of this,¡± Havor cut Helen off. ¡°If you haven¡¯t noticed, Deimos and that freak Eli could kill us without much of a second thought. So, shut your mouth and do what you are told if you value your life.¡±

    That seemed to shut her up. Helen quietly turned to face the ocean while Frostbite neared the harbor. Havor took a deep breath as the crew moved around the deck, preparing to dock the ship. This felt wrong. It was like something was off.

    ¡®Something isn¡¯t right, but what?¡¯

    Havor swallowed his doubts. He instead prepared himself as the ship slowly docked.

    <hr>

    James crept through the building with care. He made sure to be as quiet as possible despite the marauders not being anywhere in sight. Thomas, the other town guard, was behind him, sword in his sheath as he sat on the floor. They were in an empty shop, abandoned by the store owners hours ago. Both of them had hidden inside the building after they had set up their traps.

    Dahlia was still out there, drawing the runic symbols needed to summon the spell they needed. All James had left to do was wait, sword in hand, as he knelt. For armor, James wore a leather doublet over his dirty Earth clothes, courtesy of Felix. Still, he felt very exposed, unlike before he had gotten here.

    ¡°Is she done with the runes? The marauders could come at any minute!¡± Thomas spoke, obviously nervous. James peeked over the counter to see Dahlia rushing back to the shop, her right hand pocketing her soapstone.

    ¡°She¡¯s coming, don¡¯t worry about it,¡± James reassured the man, who seemed to get more nervous by the second.

    James split everyone up to cover more ground. He sent Harald, Felix, and Jasper to another part of town while he, Dahlia, and Thomas covered this area. Of course, he sent Seamus off to where the marauders would least likely find him, wanting to keep him away from their grasp since he was the one they had wanted.

    The shop¡¯s door hit the small bell above it, ringing as Dahlia entered. She had been setting up runic symbols around the town, using most of her own energy to enchant them all. They were rigged to release the ¡®Fog Cloud¡¯ spell, which would engulf the area in a thick mist. According to Dahlia, all she had to do was activate one rune, and all the others would follow.

    ¡°When do you think they¡¯ll get here?¡± James asked as she knelt next to him. He knew the marauders had all day to invade the town but hadn¡¯t seized on the opportunity yet.

    ¡®Did they give up?¡¯

    A small part of James hoped, but he remembered when he had fought Deimos, when he had stared into the man¡¯s eyes. He shivered, knowing that Deimos meant every word of what he had said that day. The thought of fighting him again elevated his nerves, his hands turning clammy at the thought of facing the marauder again.

    ¡®Not if they fall into the trap first¡­¡¯ He reminded himself, but he knew he would still have to face him again, even if the plan worked flawlessly.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Just as James opened his mouth to say something, he could see movement outside the window. It was too far to determine what it was, but James knew it had to be the marauders. He looked at Dahlia, gesturing to the window. She followed his hand motions, her eyes squinting.

    ¡°Those have to be the marauders. There¡¯s no other reason to think otherwise,¡± she pointed out in a hushed voice.

    James knew that none of the others would dare deviate from the plan since it required everyone to cooperate. He also knew that it was highly unlikely that any of the townsfolk had chosen a spot where supposedly everyone had evacuated. Still, James hesitated to give the go-ahead. He didn¡¯t know why but he had cold feet about the whole thing. His gut lurched as he thought about fighting the invaders. James had never taken another person¡¯s life, and he knew that he would have to do it inevitably soon.

    ¡®It¡¯s just like with the wolves¡­ Defend yourself! These bastards chose to be here!¡¯

    James scowled silently, ready to respond to Faust¡¯s urging, but he stopped as soon as he realized it wasn¡¯t the spirit talking¡ªit was his own thoughts.

    ¡®Am I going insane? Why am I hesitating? It¡¯s just like the wolves, you have the right to defend yourself.¡¯

    But James didn¡¯t have the right to take their lives, right? Wolves were different. They never gave James a choice. The marauders did.

    ¡®Are you seriously thinking of changing your mind?! After what they had done!!'' his rational side shouted mentally. James was internally arguing with himself, his hand clenching as he gripped his short sword¡¯s handle.

    ¡®James. Stop stalling. You have to give the signal; otherwise, everything will go to hell.¡¯

    Faust was now speaking, snapping him back to reality. James gulped and forced his hands to be still. He could see Dahlia glancing at him as the group of marauders neared. She was nervous, one second away from activating the trap herself.

    James looked back at the now clear group of marauders, everything around him turning slow, almost as if time itself had stopped. The group of marauders was smaller than he had initially thought. Deimos wasn¡¯t even visible among them.

    James didn¡¯t have time to hesitate. He swallowed his doubts and moralities and moved to give the signal. He never had a chance to. James felt a sudden sharp, familiar pain in his head. It was overwhelming, his body collapsing to the floor in response. He clutched at his head in unbearable agony. It felt as if someone was drilling deep into his skull.

    ¡®What¡­ What is happening?!¡¯ Faust¡¯s pained voice yelled out in his mind, followed by his screams.

    No, it was James¡¯ own screams. He couldn¡¯t control it, his body convulsing as another wave of pain washed over his mind. He couldn¡¯t focus on anything but his pain; his vision blurred as he writhed on the floor. Still, he could hear Dahlia activate her spell, her voice reaching him.

    ¡°Fog Cloud!¡± she shouted. James watched her blurred figure cast the spell. He tried to stand, but something sounded out in his mind, stopping him in his tracks. It was a voice different from his own and Faust¡¯s.

    ¡®Consume. Kill.¡¯

    No, it was multiple voices, all chanting the same two words before pausing. James¡¯ pain also stopped, giving him a brief period of respite. Before he could question it, the voices returned, and James could swear they were smiling.

    ¡®Interesting.¡¯

    They spoke suddenly. The young man felt his body grow weak and pass out, his consciousness slipping from his grasp.

    <hr>

    Felix was unsure of how the man named James would save their town. He still doubted the crazed man¡¯s plan. Still, it was better than what he had in mind, which was to hold out in the tavern and shoot at anyone who looked suspicious. His aim still needed work, but Felix didn¡¯t doubt he could hit any bastard who wore that black armor and a red handprint. The damn symbol was begging to be a target.

    Still, he knew he could never kill the burly bastard who had come here last time. No amount of arrows could be enough for that monster of a man. Felix never saw the alleged fight between the man and his victim, but he had seen the bastard as he left the harbor. Felix wasn¡¯t the best at reading people, but he knew that the man was one tough son of a bitch. He had given Felix a look that sent shivers down the young guard¡¯s back.

    He shivered again at the memory, prompting the old geezer named Harald to ask.

    ¡°Nerves getting to you?¡±

    Felix had seen Harald only a couple of times before. The hermit came to town only for necessities that he couldn¡¯t get out in the wild. He had heard stories about the man, how he was a veteran from the last time Valenfrost was at war.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Felix answered, unsure if he feared the marauders or the man he had seen that day. Maybe both. ¡°It won¡¯t matter, anyway. My aim will still be good, nerves or not,¡± Felix stated confidently, his hand gripping the bow he had. It wasn¡¯t anything special, something most guardsmen were equipped with. Still, Felix treasured it, mainly because he couldn¡¯t fight worth a damn with a sword, even if his life depended on it. The bow was his, and he was all right with that.

    ¡°Hm. We¡¯ll see once it all breaks loose,¡± Harald said calmly, his eyes gazing over at Jasper, who drank a bottle as he sat alone. Felix blinked, unsure of what the old man meant.

    ¡®Breaks loose?¡¯

    He was confused about why Harald had thought so. Felix thought James¡¯ plan would go well, even if it sounded strange and half-baked.

    ¡°What makes you think it¡¯ll all ¡®break loose¡¯?¡± Felix asked.

    Harald made an amused sound, smiling lightly. ¡°I¡¯ve been in enough battles to know that no plan goes flawlessly. It always ends up in a bloody mess. One way or the other.¡±

    Felix was surprised at the man¡¯s nonchalance at the situation possibly going wrong. He opened his mouth to respond but noticed something up in the sky. Gray clouds blanketed the sky, but Felix could see a darker cloud rise into the dull sky, embers clearly visible within them.

    ¡®Smoke¡­¡¯

    Felix looked over at the veteran, who was already up with Jasper, the drunk man swaying side to side.

    ¡°I guess it was sooner than I thought,¡± Harald muttered. Felix watched the veteran unsheathe his sword in a practiced motion. It was like he had done it a million times beforehand. Felix gulped, his hand tightening around his bow even more.

    They moved to a vantage point on top of a small building, where they could see the harbor more clearly. That wasn¡¯t the Fog Cloud spell James and others were supposed to activate. Before Felix could say something, he watched as everything around the harbor was engulfed by said spell. A thick fog covered most of the ground, mixing up with dark smoke that spewed embers into the air.

    It had all broken loose, all in less than an hour.

 Chapter 20: Burn it Down

    Havor never saw it coming. He had never expected a resistance despite hoping for one.

    ¡®Last time I ever wish for such a thing!¡¯

    He coughed as he hid behind an abandoned group of barrels, unable to see in the damn fog. Everything had seemed normal at first. The marauders had all split into their respective groups and headed off to their sections of the town. He remembered how one man had stupidly thrown his torch a little too early in the raid, lighting up one of the smaller wooden buildings. Then, just as Havor and his group had reached the end of the marketplace¡¯s courtyard, he had heard screaming out of nowhere. It had surprised him, and everyone before some bitch had yelled out a spell. All hel had broken loose there, his men scattering as a thick fog had appeared out of nowhere.

    Havor gritted his teeth as he unsheathed his sword, his left hand feeling his back for the shield he had brought. He was glad that he didn¡¯t leave it on the ship. The marauder peeked over the barrels, the fog lingering around as he tried to see through it. He still couldn¡¯t see a damn thing, his vision limited by a couple of meters.

    Havor cursed silently and stood slowly, holding his shield up. He hoped no archers were on the other side. He kept walking until he came across the shop he had seen earlier. Judging from the large display window, the interior of the store seemed empty.

    Havor stepped through the doors, nearly jumping at the sound of the bell ringing.

    ¡®No one¡­¡¯

    Havor looked around as he walked through the shop. There was not a single person inside. Havor was about to leave when he noticed something on the ground near the counter. It was a short sword, nothing special. Most definitely dropped by the ones who had ambushed him.

    ¡®So they were here. Where have they gone to now?¡¯

    Havor kicked the blade aside, its guard now visible in the shop''s sparse light. He stopped dead when his eyes met the sword again. He had to do a double take, his eyes widening in realization as he leaned to pick it up. This wasn¡¯t any ordinary sword.

    Havor clenched his jaw tight enough to send sharp jolts of pain throughout his skull. The sword¡¯s guard was marked with his sigil, carved into the steel back when the marauder owned it. This was also the same sword that Deimos had given to some stranger here, the nobody with a scruffy beard¡ªthe same nobody that Deimos had killed by plunging this same sword into his chest¡ªor so Havor had thought.

    ¡®There¡¯s no way it¡¯s him who did this ambush¡­ Some guard probably kept the damn thing¡­¡¯

    Yet Havor had a deep feeling that it wasn¡¯t the case.

    The door bell rang twice, and his men walked into the store with their weapons drawn. Havor looked back at them, feeling his anger bubble inside him as he thought about the bastard, who was probably still alive. Havor knew that no man in Valenfrost wouldn¡¯t seek vengeance against the people who had wronged them, especially for something like this.

    Still, Havor knew one thing for sure. The young man was weak, weak enough to resort to leaving his sword here as he retreated. The marauder looked at his men, who were staring back in confusion.

    ¡°Get your fireball runes out now. We¡¯re burning it all down. We¡¯re going to flush the bastards out and kill them all,¡± Havor said before looking down at the short sword he held.

    ¡®I¡¯ll finish him off, do what Deimos couldn¡¯t.¡¯

    <hr>

    James gasped as he felt the familiar sting of freezing water on his face. They weren¡¯t at the shop anymore; their surroundings resembled an alleyway. Dahlia was in front of James, her expression a mix of worry and anger.

    ¡°What the hell happened back there?!¡± she hissed, probably so they would not yell and give out their position. James could see Thomas at the end of the alleyway, the guard holding his sword in anticipation as he peeked into the street.

    ¡°I.. ugh..¡± James groaned as he placed a palm on his sweaty forehead. His head was killing him.

    ¡°You fell to the ground, then started screaming! It was¡­¡± Dahlia trailed off. She slowly lost her momentum, her anger dissipating slowly. ¡°It was like that night when we resurrected you.¡±

    ¡°Something happened,¡± James grunted as he tried to stand. He could feel how his body wobbled under his weight. ¡°It wasn¡¯t Faust, nor me. It was something else¡­ something much worse.¡± James stumbled a little before Dahlia caught him. It felt like he had run a marathon, his legs weak and his lungs screaming for more air.

    ¡°What? What do you mean, something worse? James?¡± Dahlia¡¯s anger had turned to panic, and her hands guided James to a nearby crate to sit on. James caught his breath, remembering what he had experienced¡ªthe voices, the pain, and the hunger he had felt through those words.

    ¡®Kill. Consume,¡¯ the voices had said. James had no godforsaken idea what that thing was, but he knew it was near and that it was hungry.

    ¡°I can¡¯t explain, but right now, we need to find this thing, this creature, and kill it.¡± James stood up again, his body slowly regaining strength as his breathing slowed.

    ¡®It won¡¯t be easy, killing this thing, especially since we have the marauders to worry about,'' Faust said, his voice exhausted.

    James nodded, agreeing with Faust.

    ¡®I know, but either this thing dies. Or everyone dies. So I¡¯ll take my chances.¡¯

    It was as simple as that.

    ¡°James,¡± Dahlia started, furrowing her brow as she stopped James from walking off. ¡°Even if we can kill this thing and hold off the marauders, which is insane, by the way, how are we going to find it?¡±

    Thomas was right behind her, still looking on edge. ¡°Those marauders aren¡¯t too far. I can hear them using runes.¡± The sound of something booming and crashing punctuated Thomas¡¯ words, emphasizing his panic.

    James swallowed, feeling his fear grow underneath his anger and determination. ¡°We¡¯ll have to navigate around them, ambush the bastards,¡± he said, hoping that his half-baked plan won¡¯t be the end of them. He turned to Dahlia, answering her question.

    ¡°We won¡¯t have to find it,¡± James revealed. ¡°It¡¯s already coming for us.¡±

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    <hr>

    Felix stemmed the bleeding from Jasper¡¯s wound, the drunk man not really in the moment as his arm bled. Someone had hit him with an arrow, and its bloodied tip lay on the ground. The drunk had pulled it out stupidly, and now Felix was dressing the wound; all the while, Harald stood guard. They had been ambushed on their way to the harbor, one bastard shooting arrows at them. Fortunately, Jasper was the only one hit, all the other arrows missing Felix and Harald.

    ¡°Stay here, you idiot. You¡¯re only going to get in the way,¡± Felix reprimanded, standing up to meet Harald¡¯s gaze. ¡°What are we going to do? It looked like there were three, probably more.¡± He could feel his nerves slipping, but Felix kept himself from breaking down. He knew he would never recover if he lost it now.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to set up an ambush,¡± Harald started before he eyed the guardsman. ¡°How good are you with that bow?¡± he asked, gesturing towards the bow Felix held.

    ¡°I¡¯m good enough, trust me,¡± Felix answered firmly, knowing damn well that fighting in close quarters was a death sentence for him.

    Harald seemed to realize this, his gaze moving back to the way they had come from. ¡°All right, we¡¯ll hold out here. You draw their attention with your arrows, and I¡¯ll maneuver around them, hit them from behind.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a shite plan. Are you sure you don¡¯t have any better ones?¡± Felix asked.

    ¡°Do you?¡± Harald responded, his voice deep and gruff. Felix sighed, knowing this was better than nothing, even if it could end with him dying.

    He turned to the injured drunk, who was drinking again.

    ¡°Jasper, get back to the tavern. We need you out of here now,¡± Felix ordered.

    The drunk grumbled as he got up, almost looking like he was going to complain. But he complied and stumbled his way back to the tavern.

    ¡®Why did we even bring him along?¡¯ Felix wondered just as he turned back to Harald.

    ¡°All right, let¡¯s do this. Where do you need me?¡±

    <hr>

    James was as quiet as he could be, turning back to see Thomas following close behind. Dahlia was sneaking somewhere else, wanting to attack the marauders from the other side of the street they were on. James hoped they wouldn¡¯t see her, but he knew that the shaman was familiar with the streets of Yorktown, while James wasn¡¯t.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine,¡± James silently told himself. He stopped and peeked around the corner of a vase shop, making sure not to knock down the vase on display outside.

    He could see nothing through the thick fog. Yet, he could hear voices and laughter as the crackle of flames filled the background.

    ¡®They¡¯re enjoying this¡­¡¯

    James could slowly feel anger rising in his chest at the realization. He held back his emotions this time, knowing that giving away his position was not the smartest move. He looked back at Thomas, who seemed just as angry but was smart enough to keep it in. James slowly backed away, knowing that he would need a plan of attack for this.

    He suddenly felt his foot hit the vase he had forgotten about. The young man watched in slow horror as it contacted the cobbled path. It didn¡¯t shatter, but it did ring loudly.

    ¡®Oh, shit!¡¯

    The sound definitely alerted the marauders since the laughter in the distance suddenly turned to hushed voices. This was not good. James looked over at Thomas, who seemed bent on either screaming at James or running off.

    ¡°I heard something over there! Let¡¯s get ¡®em!¡± one marauder shouted to his friend, who howled like a wild animal in response.

    ¡®What¡¯s with these people?¡¯

    James had no time to question as he saw two figures suddenly emerge from the fog, one making eye contact with him. They were both equipped with sparse gear, their torsos bare and without much protection. The only sense of clothing were the furs and ripped breeches they wore.

    The first marauder rushed at James, his ax swinging wildly. James felt his body forcefully dodge, his body hitting the ground as the ax¡¯s edge missed his hair by centimeters. He blinked as he watched the weapon bury itself into the nearby wooden building.

    ¡®Move your ass!¡¯ Faust screamed, panic and desperation in his voice.

    James did exactly that and rolled as the marauder tried to kick at him. He sprung up on his feet right after, watching as the marauder tried to pull his ax out. His opponent barely wore any armor, his torso nearly bare with tattoos and war paint. This fight might not be so hard after all.

    James clenched his fists and swung at the marauder, feeling his knuckles come in contact with the bastard¡¯s jaw. The strike sent the marauder stumbling back, eventually landing him on his ass. James took one quick look at the ax and decided that he¡¯d deal with it later.

    James hadn¡¯t been in a fistfight in years, not counting the guy he had punched into a coma back on Earth. That didn¡¯t count. Still, he had listened to Nick¡¯s fighting tips back on Earth.

    ¡®Nick, I really hope your advice wasn¡¯t bullshit.¡¯

    James raised his fists and gritted his teeth before throwing a punch at the marauder¡¯s face. His fist connected, but the bastard tanked the hit. The marauder quickly fought back, throwing a swing of his own back at James. James didn¡¯t have time to dodge or block. His vision blurred when the marauder¡¯s fist landed on his face. He stumbled a bit as he raised his arms, soon feeling the blows land on his arm and side.

    James tried to get some ground between him and the marauder, but he instead tripped onto the ground.

    ¡®Steel yourself, dammit!¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice shouted.

    The young man took the advice and tried his best to shake away his apparent concussion. When his vision was clear, he was met with the marauder¡¯s foot coming at him. James dodged the attack with a roll and returned with a kick of his own. His boot shoved the marauder back, forcing him to stumble back. James took this chance to stand and regain his balance.

    Both men stared at each other, breathing heavily as they gained their bearings. James slowly wiped his nose, his bandaged right hand coming back bloodied. He stared at the stain for a moment, his hand clenching tightly. Adrenaline surged in him, and James saw red.

    Without hesitation, he charged at the marauder swinging. The bastard held his arms up, blocking most of the attacks. James continued his barrage of hits before finally landing a left punch on the man¡¯s side. That seemed to do it. The marauder gasped at the strike, letting his guard down for a second. It was enough to give James ample time to strike.

    James aimed his right fist at the marauder¡¯s throat, hitting the man¡¯s jugular. The marauder¡¯s eyes widened as he clutched his throat, obviously surprised. James kicked at the side of the man¡¯s right knee, forcing him to kneel.

    Without a second to waste, James threw a heavy left hook. He struck the marauder¡¯s face, knocking his ass down onto the cobbled ground. His knuckles were screaming with pain, and his body was already exhausted, but it looked like he had gotten the better of him. It was good enough for him.

    James glanced over at Thomas to see what the situation was like with him. The guard was currently clashing swords with the other marauder. James turned back to his opponent and saw how the fallen marauder was trying to get up again.

    ¡®Seriously?¡¯

    The marauder angrily pulled a dagger from his belt before moving to slash at James. James quickly kicked at the man¡¯s hand before it gained any momentum. His steel toe boot connected with the marauder¡¯s wrist, sending his dagger flying. Without missing a beat, James kicked at the man¡¯s face, sending him back to the ground with a bloodied nose.

    James turned to Thomas again, who was still in trouble with the marauder. The guard looked tired, his arms and clothes slashed from his fight. James hurried to the ax from before, the one the previous marauder buried into the building. He used whatever strength he had left to pull it out. As he did so, he could see the bloody-nosed marauder on the ground move, struggling as he sat up.

    ¡®Shit!  I should¡¯ve grabbed the dagger!¡¯

    James felt stupid about his mortal mistake. Still, the marauder didn¡¯t go for the nearby dagger; instead, his hand moved to pull something out of his satchel. James¡¯ eyes widened when he saw the red glowing rune aimed at his direction, the glyph brightening as the man managed out a single word.

    ¡°Fireball!¡±

    James barely had time to dodge, his legs propelling him away from the wooden building. The fireball crashed with the small vase shop, its burning heat reaching James as he fell onto the ground. The young man felt nothing but burning pain.

 Chapter 21: It Came From The Woods

    Felix let out his breath, watching as it turned into steam, rising into the air. He nocked an arrow onto his bow, pulling it back against the string. He felt the fletching rest against his cheek, the feather that made it up tickling him a little. Felix was on top of a small building, the uncomfortable sloped shingles poking under his ass. He grimaced at the feeling. The guard did not want to die in such an uncomfortable spot. Regardless, he kept his focus and eyed the group of marauders who walked down the same path he had been on earlier.

    They were obviously led by the woman, her short blonde hair visible through some gaps in her helmet. She carried a small shield on her left and a spear in her right hand. Felix raised his head from his arrow, sure he could hit them from this distance. The idiot behind her impatiently moved around, kicking over barrels and crates. The other was the archer, carrying a short bow as he looked around.

    Felix took a deep breath and held it as he aimed his bow.

    ¡®Three.¡¯

    He loosed an arrow, hitting the dolt who was breaking windows. The idiot fell back on his ass, an arrow in his shoulder as he hurried to cover and yelled at his friends. The woman instantly took cover, and the archer near her moved to take aim. Felix already had another arrow nocked on his bow, pulling it back as he took aim again, this time at the archer.

    ¡®Two.¡¯

    He loosed another arrow with little accuracy, missing the bowman. Still, it threw off the bastard¡¯s aim, his arrow missing Felix by a mile. Felix cursed still, hurrying to nock another arrow on his bow. He could see Harald come up behind the other marauder, his sword raised for a strike. The dolt, however, noticed Harald and barely dodged the veteran¡¯s attack before swinging back at him.

    ¡®He¡¯ll take care of it¡­¡¯

    Felix focused back onto the archer, his hand pulling the fletching back.

    ¡®One.¡¯

    Felix exhaled as he got a clear shot at the archer. However, something else caught his attention. He could see how the woman stood out in the open from his peripherals. Felix felt his heart drop when he noticed she was aiming something at him. Something that grew a bright red.

    ¡°Shi¨C!¡±

    ¡°Fireball!¡±

    Felix didn¡¯t have to think as he jumped from the roof. He could feel the fireball''s heat on his back as he landed hard on the ground, his left arm hitting the cobbled street. Something snapped underneath the guardsman, followed by a loud pop.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s fucking tits!¡± Felix cursed loudly, his shoulder screaming in pain. The fall had also broken his bow and snapped it in half. The guard tried to get up, his body aching as he got onto his knees. Footsteps caught his attention, and Felix turned to see the woman from before, spear in hand, as she headed towards him. He could see Harald fighting off the two other marauders in the distance.

    ¡®I¡¯m done for.¡¯

    Regardless, Felix tried his damndest to crawl away. His left arm was unresponsive, possibly broken or dislocated. It wouldn''t matter, as the woman neared Felix, her spear raised at him. Felix couldn¡¯t help but watch in silent acceptance as she thrust her spear at him, its tip aiming for his throat.

    Suddenly, something deflected it away, the spearhead hitting the ground before him. Felix blinked at the sudden block. He watched as a cloaked man stepped before him, his stature towering over the young guard. The man¡¯s long black hair was tied up neatly as he brandished his weapon, the same one he had used to deflect the spear.

    ¡®Is that¡­ Is that a blacksmith¡¯s hammer?¡¯

    Felix stared at the unusual weapon. He turned to his savior, who grinned under rosy cheeks and a trimmed beard. Haggard, the drunk from the tavern, twirled his bulky hammer like it weighed nothing.

    ¡°So you¡¯re the marauders everyone has been so scared about. Interesting, I¡¯ve been waiting for a good fight these last few days.¡±

    <hr>

    James coughed, his vision blurred as he tried to stand up.

    ¡®Too hot¡­¡¯

    He could feel the heat in the air as embers floated around him, some of them landing on his skin and jolting him with burning pain. He patted his body down, making sure he wasn¡¯t on fire. Thankfully, James was mostly unburnt. However, he couldn¡¯t say the same about the vase shop, which crackled with flames from its collapsed roof and walls.

    ¡®Where is everyone?¡¯

    James stumbled around, coughing as he breathed in the dust and ash. There was flaming debris everywhere, and the fire from the shop spread into the other buildings. He pulled his shirt collar up to cover his mouth and nose as he walked around. He still coughed, his lungs gasping from all the dust he had breathed in.

    James stopped and looked around the spot where he had last seen Thomas. No one was in sight. There wasn¡¯t even a body. He opened his mouth to shout but coughed violently instead, spitting out the dust that had gotten into his mouth.

    That¡¯s when he heard it. James went quiet and held back another cough as he looked around. He heard it again, this time clearer. It was a clicking sound, like chattering teeth. James felt a tinge of fear blossom in his chest as he hurried through the fog and smoke before falling on his knees, his feet tripping over something. It was Thomas¡¯ sword, left all alone. James hurried to pick it up before scrambling to his feet.

    Click click click

    The noise returned, much louder now. James pressed himself against a wall, trying to think of a plan, any plan. Nothing.

    ¡®Faust¡­ I really need you to do that supernatural thing again¡­¡¯

    He hoped the spirit had something to offer. Something that can give him an upper hand of sorts.

    ¡®Your body is too hot. You¡¯ll cook yourself to death if I try to help. You¡¯re on your own¡­¡¯ the spirit revealed.

    James cursed at the response but knew that there was nothing Faust could do. He slowly inched across the wall, quiet as he could be.

    Clack clack clack clack

    The awful noise returned closer again. James could feel his fear growing as he raised his sword. He even closed his eyes and hoped that this was all a dream.

    ¡®I¡¯ll wake up back home¡­ I¡¯ll get a call from Mia. Plan out another date. Nick and I will play some video games together, and I¡¯ll return to my nine-to-five job. This is all just a bad dream caused by me not taking my meds.¡¯

    James almost laughed, his sanity slipping bit by bit.

    ¡®James, calm yourself. If you lose your nerve, you won¡¯t get it back,¡¯ Faust spoke, calming the unstable man a little.

    James took a deep breath and gripped the sword tightly, ready to strike at anything near.

    ¡°Such an interesting specimen you are¡­ Nothing like the other bodies I¡¯ve dissected,¡± an ethereal voice rang out.

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    James couldn¡¯t pin down where it was coming from. It was almost as if it was everywhere. He turned around, looking at the thick fog. Nothing was in sight. Everything was quiet, James¡¯ breathing and the crackle of flames being the only sounds in the air¡ªuntil the sound of footsteps came in from his right.

    James turned quickly to the sound, his eyes squinting through the smoke and fog. He tried to make out the figure moving towards him, unsure if it was a friend or foe. Slowly but surely, a man came from the smoke, coughing violently. James recognized him as the marauder Thomas had fought earlier, his nose bloodied and eyes red.

    The marauder coughed a little before he locked gazes with James. He scowled, shouting in another language as he raised his sword at James. The young man barely had time to raise his sword, blocking the sword strike in time. Vibrations shook him, but he kept his ground, yelling as he forced the marauder away. The marauder raised his blade to swing at James again, but someone else suddenly tackled him.

    James¡¯ eyes widened as Thomas struggled with the man, the guardsman throwing the sword away from the marauder.

    ¡°James! Help!¡± He shouted.

    James moved in to help Thomas before feeling something grab his back, throwing him to the wall. He landed on the ground, only to see the other marauder from earlier, the one who had used that rune. James barely dodged the man¡¯s boot, his right foot kicking at the bastard¡¯s knee like last time. It worked again, the marauder yelping in pain as he fell.

    James raised his sword, not thinking straight as he swung down on the marauder. The man dodged his attack, and the sword made contact with the ground, chips of steel and stone flying as it sparked. The weapon was then kicked away from James, landing in the flames of the burning debris nearby.

    Before James could try to retrieve it, the marauder tackled him to the ground. James struggled with the other man, his eyes widening at the sight of a dagger. He held the man¡¯s knife back, doing his best to keep it away from his throat. Yet he was at a disadvantage, the marauder right on top of him as he forced the dagger down onto James. He could do nothing more than watch the dagger¡¯s tip near his neck, the marauder¡¯s strength overpowering his own.

    ¡°Flare!¡±

    A familiar voice sounded out before a blinding flash of white appeared out of nowhere. James squeezed his eyes shut right before the flash happened, knowing who had cast it. He felt the marauder loosen his grip, allowing James to kick him off.

    ¡°Dahlia?¡± the young man called out, hoping the shaman was nearby. He could hear the two marauders groaning and writhing on the ground as he blinked quickly, the white screen over his vision slowly fading as his ears rang.

    James wished he hadn¡¯t been able to see.

    The young man watched in horror as some thing pinned Thomas to the ground, the guard struggling as he yelled out in fear. The thing was horrifying. Its flesh hung off in tatters, revealing taut muscle and torn sinew. Its teeth chattered visibly, recreating the horrible clicking sound he had heard earlier. James could see how parts of its body were engulfed in crystals, sharp and jagged. Whatever skin wasn¡¯t covered was bloated and blackened, resembling frostbite.

    Nothing on Earth could have come close to this level of horrifying, not even in the goriest and darkest horror movies. If it weren¡¯t for the crippling fear he felt, James would¡¯ve vomited.

    ¡®What the fuck is that?¡¯

    James watched in terror as the Abomination pressed its left mangled arm onto Thomas¡¯ head. The guard¡¯s horrible screams only lasted for a second before his head caved in, dark red blood suddenly painting the cobbled ground. The creature raised his head, its gaze focusing on the blond man.

    ¡°James Holter. We¡¯ve been looking for you.¡±

    James could only stare. Fear had spread throughout his body, paralyzing him as the thing spoke to him with its single, glowing eye.

    ¡®James! Run!¡¯ Faust yelled internally.

    James snapped back as the will to survive came to him in a rush. The young man moved, stumbling over his feet as he tried to escape. The other marauders seemed to have regained their vision as they reacted with curses and yells. He looked back to see one marauder get pulled back by the monster, screaming as the other one tried to scramble away.

    James would¡¯ve stared if it weren¡¯t for someone grabbing his arm. He reflexively pulled away in panic, only to see that it was the shaman who had just saved him. Her soft amber eyes calmed him, snapping him out of his paralyzing fear.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± Dahlia shouted. ¡°Where¡¯s Thomas?¡±

    James turned back to the horrible scene, causing Dahlia to look as well. Her face dropped, her tan skin paling as her eyes widened in horror.

    ¡°W-What? What is that¨C?¡± She began.

    James was already moving, his hands pulling her behind a corner to hide from the thing that was killing the marauders. He almost wanted to run off from the street, find a spare ship, and leave this cursed island. James didn¡¯t need to stay here, right? He had no attachments, no real reason to stay.

    ¡®Dammit! Calm down! Don¡¯t think that way!¡¯

    James took a couple of deep breaths, his hand moving to his chest. He could feel his heart beating with panic, his muscles feeling as if they were made of pudding. He hadn¡¯t felt like this since his duel with Deimos. Hell, this was actually worse. Still, he couldn¡¯t back down from this. He couldn¡¯t let this creature take any more people with it. Despite the fear, James had the obligation to kill this thing right here, right now.

    ¡®Gotta focus. We need to kill that thing before it gets away or worse¡­ comes after us.¡¯

    ¡°Do you have any runes that can help? Any spells?!¡± James frantically asked.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m not sure. Maybe with my ignition spell, I can, but I¡¯m almost out of reserves,¡± Dahlia muttered, her eyes looking back at him. There was a sense of fear and terror in her expression, letting James know he wasn¡¯t the only one nearly pissing themselves out of fear.

    James cursed under his breath, trying to figure out another way. He suddenly remembered the rune the marauder had used and how it devastated the shop he had hit. James peeked over the corner and squinted through the fog, which was slowly dissipating. The thing was still there, feasting on the marauder¡¯s bodies. James had to refrain from retching. Both men were dead, the first marauder¡¯s corpse a few feet away from the creature.

    James turned back to Dahlia. ¡°We¡¯ll have to get close¡­ One of those marauders has to have a rune on them. I saw one of them use one that summoned a fireball.¡±

    ¡°What if they only had one?¡± Dahlia asked hesitantly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ I just know that we need to check for ourselves on the chance that they still have one. It¡¯s our only shot of killing it,¡± the young man emphasized. James turned to the corner again. ¡°I¡¯ll distract it. You check their bodies. You''re quieter¡­ It won¡¯t notice you.¡± He didn¡¯t have to check to see if she nodded, as he trusted her.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Dahlia suddenly said, causing James to look at her. She quickly gave him her dagger, forcing the handle into his hesitant hands. ¡°Just in case¡­¡±

    James swallowed and nodded before she ran off into the nearby building. He tucked the dagger into his jacket¡¯s pocket, making sure its tip wouldn¡¯t stab him. He breathed and prepared himself before he ran out into the open, his arms waving at the thing.

    ¡°Hey! You want me? That¡¯s why you¡¯re here, right?!¡± James shouted. He was doing his best to suppress his fear. Still, it was hard not to recoil when he watched the thing raise its head from the corpse. The thing¡¯s only eye burned brighter from the shout as if James had intrigued it. It slowly stood hunched over as it trudged towards James. Its body looked almost armored, the crystals forming a sort of protection over its head and torso.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± it said in an ethereal voice, its lone eye staring at James in interest. Its remaining face was all black and wrinkled, with no lips to cover its chattering teeth as it spoke.

    James swallowed the urge to sprint away, his hands shaking before he clenched them into fists.

    ¡°What are you?¡± he asked before stepping back as the Abomination got closer. He could see Dahlia emerge from a broken building behind the creature, sneaking closer to the two dead marauders. James made sure not to look directly at the shaman, fearing that the creature was intelligent enough to notice.

    ¡°We do not know, but we know what we want,¡± it answered. James swore that it was grinning in some fucked up way. It opened its jaw to speak again, but its eye flickered right as its body fell on one knee. It let out a guttural shout that felt closer to pain rather than anger.

    ¡°Kill me! Please¡­ I can¡¯t take it!¡±

    Its voice rang out again, this time frantic and less menacing. It sounded different, desperate, as it writhed in pain.

    ¡°The voices¡­ stop the voices, please!¡±

    James watched on, unsure of what to make of the situation. From his peripherals, he could see how Dahlia searched the last body, her hands pulling out a familiar black stone.

    ¡°What do you mean voices?¡± James asked the thing.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m supposed to be dead! The voices brought me back, but they forced me to kill people and... eat them. I just want to die, please!¡±

    It was begging now, its single eye wide with fear and pain. Suddenly, the creature stopped rambling, its eye flickering again as it stood right back up. James could take a guess as to what that meant, his feet taking a step back. He looked towards Dahlia, who was gesturing to him to move out of the way.

    James took the advice and ran, but he soon found out how terrifyingly fast the thing moved. Despite its size, it scurried quickly, just like a monster would in a nightmare. As the creature closed the distance, James chanced it.

    ¡°Dahlia! Fire it! Now!¡± He screamed, making the creature take pause as the shaman¡¯s voice yelled out,

    ¡°Fireball!¡±

 Chapter 22: Breaking Point

    Seamus rubbed his reddening cheek, which stung lightly. The young woman in front of him rubbed her hand, which she had used to slap the young man.

    ¡°I¡¯m not leaving my shop behind. I¡¯m not letting those marauders burn it down,¡± she stated as she crossed her arms. She had been a tough case for Seamus, who had been searching buildings for anyone holding out. He was to evacuate them and send them to the town hall. At first, Seamus thought his job unnecessary since he had found no one¡ªat least, until now.

    The woman had nearly killed Seamus with her homemade traps, which comprised a bucket full of stones over the door, a rigged crossbow, and a flailing ax. Surprisingly, she didn¡¯t sell weapons at her actual shop. The shopkeeper had slapped Seamus for triggering her traps and slapped him again after he had told her to evacuate.

    ¡°The marauders are going to burn it down, regardless! You can¡¯t hope to take them all on!¡± Seamus argued, a bit annoyed at the woman¡¯s refusal.

    ¡°Are you dense? What makes you think those marauders are going to get here? In this part of town?¡± She shot back. Seamus felt his eye twitch, his hand gesturing towards the door that led outside.

    ¡°Have you not been listening?¡± He asked, knowing damn well that she had to have heard the distant fireballs and explosions. The woman looked hesitant but shook her head.

    ¡°I¡¯m not leaving this shop. I¡¯m dead without it, anyway.¡± She held her ground.

    Seamus furrowed his brow. The shopkeeper couldn¡¯t have been more than his own age. There was no way someone as young as her could own a shop, right?

    ¡°Who actually owns this shop?¡± Seamus asked. The woman looked uncomfortable, her adamant attitude dissipating slowly.

    ¡°My father. But I haven¡¯t seen him since he went out with the town guards last night,¡± the shopkeeper revealed.

    Seamus had heard about Felix''s attempted plan and knew that the town guards wouldn¡¯t have had a chance of sneaking past the marauders. She seemed to realize this, too, as her voice was somber and her eyes distant.

    ¡°This shop is all I have left. Without it, I am nothing,¡± she said once more. Seamus could understand, even if he, too, had truly nothing to live for. He didn¡¯t even know why he had escaped the marauders in the first place since they had killed everyone he had ever known. Seamus had no friends, no one who actually cared for him.

    ¡®Not true¡­ I found James and Dahlia¡­ They¡¯re my friends, right?¡¯

    Seamus had wondered about that for the last couple of days, knowing they were the only ones who cared about him. It felt weird to call them friends, as they had never acknowledged it before.

    ¡®Loyal friends never have to announce their companionship.¡¯ His father had said.

    Seamus was so lost in thought that he didn¡¯t notice the woman¡¯s words until she had shaken him.

    ¡°Hide! I can hear voices outside!¡± She hissed, fear in her eyes as she pulled him behind the counter. Seamus¡¯ eyes widened, snapping back into reality at her words.

    ¡®Maybe it¡¯s James? Or Felix? Maybe they¡¯re just coming to tell me they won and¨C¡¯

    Obnoxious voices cut Seamus¡¯ thoughts, yelling out from the doorway. He peeked over the counter, seeing four marauders barge into the store. Most of them were half-dressed and barely armored, like bandits. Only one of them wore full leather armor with mail visible under it. He held a long ax, trailing it across the floor as he yelled at his men to calm down.

    Seamus wanted to get out of there. His instincts were screaming at him to run for it, to get to safety. He desperately looked around for an exit before he finally spotted a door in the dark backroom. Seamus¡¯ heart dropped when he realized it was too exposed and open. Anyone would spot him immediately.

    Many things ran through his mind, his cowardly thoughts sifting through every possibility. They ranged from attempting to hide to running away regardless. He was so caught up in an escape plan that he nearly forgot about the young woman next to him¡ªthe shopkeeper, who was paralyzed with fear and indecision.

    He couldn¡¯t leave her behind, not with these marauding bastards. He remembered the atrocities he had seen back on that fateful day. The day he had lost it all. He knew what these men were capable of, and he couldn¡¯t bear to leave Kate in the same horrible fate as the women of his clan.

    Seamus had run away from so much. Left behind so many people. His cowardice had kept him alive, sure, but it left him with nothing more than guilt and a crippling fear of death. Maybe this time, he could right his wrongs and do something other than run away.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± Seamus whispered.

    ¡°Kate,¡± the shopkeeper answered, her expression turning to confusion. ¡°Do you have a plan?¡±

    Seamus took a deep breath. He peeked over the counter and watched as the marauders scoured the other side of the shop.

    ¡°Kate, I¡¯m going to hold them off. You sneak off and get to safety,¡± Seamus whispered. He began to slowly and silently unsheathe his sword. His hands shook slightly as he did so, his nerves on the edge of slipping. Still, Seamus kept himself calm. He would not let any more people die because of his cowardice.

    Kate hesitated, looking up at him with frightful eyes. ¡°I already told you I can¡¯t¨C¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll do worse than kill you,¡± Seamus muttered. ¡°Believe me, run.¡±

    Kate was silent for a moment, her hands clenching into angry fists. Yet she did not argue. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯ll be alright?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine¡­ I won¡¯t let them get to you,¡± Seamus promised. He held his sword¡¯s handle so tightly that his knuckles went white. He could hear the voices of the marauders grow nearer.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to stand up now. When they focus on me, you sneak off and get out,¡± Seamus whispered. He gave one last look at Kate before he stood up. The young man walked out of his hiding spot, his focus on the group of marauders.

    Seamus took his stance, the same one he had practiced hundreds of times before. Yet his hands shook violently as he held his weapon in front of him. It was a pitiful sight but the best Seamus could muster.

    ¡°Hey!¡± he shouted as he stepped towards the group of marauders. They all went quiet, their gazes moving to focus on him. Their expressions turned to amusement, almost on the verge of laughing as Seamus wobbled sporadically. Seamus could feel every single one of his instincts screaming at him to run, his legs buckling under his weight.

    ¡°He¡¯s shaking!¡± someone pointed out.

    ¡°This is just hilarious! Look at you! All teeth, but no fight.¡± One marauder commented.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the shithead we were supposed to nab? Seamus Halvorson?¡± Another chimed in, stepping forward with his rusted blade.

    ¡°Maybe. He fits the description,¡± the tall one said, rubbing his shaven face.

    ¡°Does that mean we can¡¯t kill him?¡± One asked, disappointed.

    ¡°Yes¡­ but they said alive¡­ not intact,¡± the tall one added. There was a malicious grin on his face. Seamus¡¯s heart dropped, fear overtaking him as he remembered the bodies he had seen on that cursed ship. How mutilated and bloodied they were as they begged for death.

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    ¡®Calm yourself!¡¯

    Seamus tried to fight his nerves, his body tensing up.

    ¡°I¡¯ll fight you all!¡± He stated. That earned another rouse of laughter from the marauders.

    ¡°Fight like that?¡± The tall one pointed out. He gestured to Seamus¡¯ knees, which were wobbling uncontrollably.

    ¡°You won¡¯t last a second,¡± one added.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna have a lot of fun with this one. He looks like a screamer!¡± Another commented.

    Seamus tried to steel himself, to keep himself stalwart. Yet he was sweating like crazy, his chest tightening like a vise.

    ¡°Ears, nose, there¡¯s a lot to gain from this¡­¡±

    They were toying with him, not even taking his threat seriously. The marauders simply jeered and taunted, awaiting Seamus to make the first move. The young man attempted to take deep breaths to calm himself, but he only hyperventilated. His breathing quickened, his heart beating growing loud in his ears. His heart rate continued rising, his adrenaline pumping through his veins.

    ¡®Just keep calm,¡¯ a voice deep inside muttered. It was calm, collective, and soothing. ¡®Relax and allow your instinct to take hold¡­¡¯

    Seamus¡¯ body slowly relaxed, almost as if he was falling asleep. The world around him turned silent and still. He couldn¡¯t help it as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The young man had reached his breaking point, his conscious mind slipping into stasis.

    <hr>

    Jarkin frowned as he stared at the kid before him, who had gone limp after hearing his suggestion of torture. The idiot had fainted, probably out of fear. His body was still somehow standing, sword clenched in his right hand.

    ¡°You fucking scared him to death!¡± Ivor laughed before Fern grumbled.

    ¡°You have to be kidding! I was looking forward to breaking him. Fainting takes the fun out of it.¡±

    Jarkin sighed as the marauders argued and bickered. He raised his hand to shut them up.

    ¡°Bren, check if the coward really is Seamus Halvorson.¡± He looked at the fat marauder, who groaned as he lumbered over.

    ¡°Do you think he¡¯s the same asshole who planted those snares?¡± Ivor asked.

    ¡°Probably,¡± Jarkin muttered. They had encountered snare traps and others like it along the way. It had snared only Fern, who had to be cut out of the trap. Since then, they have had a keen eye out for them, dismantling all the ones they came across. Jarkin watched as the idiot Bren grabbed the young man by the hair, lifting his head up to see if he had the birthmark. Seamus¡¯s face was like a dead man¡¯s, his green eyes blank and half-closed. His small birthmark was clearly visible, confirming who he was.

    ¡°All right, let¡¯s get him¡ª¡± Bren stopped mid-sentence, a huge grin forming. Well, what do we have here?!¡± he shouted, moving to grab something from behind the counter.

    Jarkin heard a woman yelling and screaming. He watched as Bren pulled some young girl out from behind the counter.

    ¡°Trying to sneak off?¡± He laughed.

    The young woman tried to fight back, to no avail. The marauder was unaffected by her flailing fists, his hands moving to undo his trousers.

    ¡°Bren!¡± Jarkin shouted, stopping the disgusting idiot in his tracks. ¡°Get Halvorson! You can deal with her after we¡¯re done with the job.¡±

    Bren frowned in response.

    ¡°But¨C¡±

    ¡°No buts! Keep it in your fucking pants,¡± Jarkin hissed. He knew these men were useful as arrow fodder and underlings, but it disgusted him how they committed such acts. Such were savages, he guessed.

    Bren grimaced and looked back at the woman.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back for you¨C¡±

    A glob of spit hit his face, interrupting him. Bren¡¯s expression twisted in anger as he raised his fist.

    ¡°You bitch! I¡¯ll¨C¡±

    Bren was cut off by the sudden sound of flesh tearing. Jarkin blinked in surprise.

    Blood was everywhere, spattering all over Bren and the woman. The marauder¡¯s hand was a detached stump, his clenched fist landing on the ground before Jarkin. Bren stared at the stump with horror as he stood up.

    ¡°Wha¨C?¡±

    There was a sudden flash of steel, and Bren¡¯s throat now sported a wide, red smile. The marauder clutched at his bleeding throat, dark crimson spilling as he fell to the ground. Jarkin watched the entire scene before finally realizing what had happened.

    His eyes focused on Seamus, who still hung limply in his spot. The only difference was that his sword was dripping a dark red substance. Jarkin felt strange now, his heart beating faster as he looked back at Bren, who was struggling weakly to stop the bleeding.

    ¡®Did he do this?¡¯

    Jarkin stared at Halvorson, unsure if the unconscious man was really to blame.

    ¡®But how¡­?¡¯

    He shook his head, dispelling any doubts.

    ¡°Ivor! Fern! Get Halvorson, now!¡± Jarkin ordered. The two marauders seemed hesitant. They were clearly debating whether it was safe to get near Halvorson.

    ¡°Get him now! Else it¡¯ll be your head I give to Deimos!¡± Jarkin shouted.

    That worked. Ivor and Fern cautiously approached the young man, their sword and ax raised and ready. Halvorson leaned forward in response, his arms tensing up. With no warning, he rushed to the two approaching men. He went for Ivor first, his sword swinging quickly at the marauder. Ivor barely blocked with his sword, holding off the strike.

    Fern swung his ax right after, aiming to hit the young man from his left. What should¡¯ve been a solid strike did nothing but harmlessly cut through some hair. Jarkin couldn¡¯t even believe what he saw. Halvorson had effortlessly dodged the attack, his movements unlike anything the marauder had seen.

    ¡®He¡¯s so quick¡­ How?¡¯

    Before Jarkin knew it, Fern was stumbling like a drunk, his ax falling to the ground. Halvorson¡¯s sword had eviscerated the marauder¡¯s stomach, spilling his guts out. With no mercy, the young man left Fern to stumble for a bit before he fell down to die on the floor.

    Ivor yelled as he tried to stab Halvorson. The young man simply parried the attack with his own sword. Sparks flew from the contact of blades, leaving Ivor open. Halvorson¡¯s blade flashed quickly. The young man was still as Ivor¡¯s body fell limp. Jarkin could only watch as the other marauder¡¯s bloodied lower jaw fell to the wooden floor right before the rest of his body joined.

    It was all so quick and sudden that Jarkin had to take a moment to process it all. Halvorson had moved so quickly and fluently that it was like watching a Lumen Knight take care of business. It was a level of skill and speed that did not befit a young man, let alone a coward.

    Jarkin gritted his teeth and gripped his long ax tightly. It was just a trick. That was it. Halvorson was using technique and magic trickery to do his fights. Besides, Ivor and Fern were only arrow fodder. Nothing like Jarkin himself. No, Jarkin was a warrior. Hardened by the Outsider Wars and his years as a raider. He would never lose to someone relying on cheap magic and tactics to win.

    ¡®Fuck Deimos. Fuck Havor. I¡¯m going to kill this little bastard no matter what!¡¯

    Jarkin angrily raised his ax and came at Halvorson in a rush. The young man reacted, his sword coming at Jarkin in a flash of bloodied steel. Jarkin expected the attack this time, his hands raising his long ax shaft to guard. He planned to block the attack and bring the ax head upon Halvorson¡¯s head right after, ending him then and there.

    It was the perfect plan.

    Just as Jarkin predicted, Halvorson¡¯s sword contacted his ax¡¯s shaft. Wood and metal chips flew as the sword swung to the ground, leaving the younger man open to attack.

    ¡®I got you now!¡¯

    Unfortunately, Jarkin was dead wrong. Just as he was about to bring down his ax, the shaft broke in two, a clean cut down the middle.

    Jarkin stared at the cut, his eyes widening as warm blood trickled down his neck and chest. The taste of metal filled his mouth as he dropped the broken ax. He tried to pick up the ax head, but his body lost its balance and fell to the stained ground. Somehow, some way, Seamus Halvorson had cut through his ax, slicing his throat open.

    Jarkin could feel how blurry the world had gotten. Before he hit the ground, the marauder caught a glimpse of Seamus¡¯s eyes. They were nothing like before. The young man¡¯s gaze was focused and resolute, with no hint of fear in it. Instead, it was full of killer instinct, emotionless and cold. Jarkin saw a hint of a grin on Seamus¡¯ lips, which sent shivers down the marauder¡¯s spine.

    ¡®So this is Yorn¡¯s son¡­ How could I have been so foolish?¡¯

    Jarkin stared at the young man, wondering why and how Seamus had killed four of them, all without a single scratch. He would never know as he bled to death on the wooden floor of the shop, his body growing cold.

    The last thing he saw was Seamus¡¯ eyes rolling up again, his grin faltering as his body went limp again. Jarkin watched Seamus fall to the ground, the world slowly darkening around him.

 Chapter 23: Embers

    Felix dodged another attack from the archer before he threw a punch with his right hand. His left arm dangled uselessly, most definitely dislocated. Felix fought through the pain, yelling as he kicked at the archer. He glanced to his side, watching Harald and Haggard fight the woman marauder, the veteran sporting a bloody wound on his side from the previous marauder.

    Haggard was somehow having fun, swinging his hammer at the woman as she blocked and dodged their attacks. The guard moved his focus back to the enemy archer, who had pulled a dagger and started swinging at Felix. He did his best to dodge the attacks, feeling sharp pains as the dagger¡¯s edge made marks on his skin.

    Still, Felix kept his cool, finding an opening in the bastard¡¯s attacks. Felix kicked at his knee, forcing the archer to one leg before he tackled him, both men struggling for control. He threw the dagger away, keeping it out of reach as he punched and wailed on the marauder beneath him.

    ¡°Should¡¯ve stayed out of my town!¡± Felix yelled angrily, his hand grabbing at the man¡¯s black hair. He raised the marauder¡¯s head, slamming it onto the cobbled ground. The man was dazed at first, his hands aimlessly moving to grab at the archer. Felix repeated the motions, slamming his head against the cobbled ground again.

    ¡°Fucking die!¡± he shouted, slamming the man¡¯s head again and again, even after he had stopped struggling. Felix finally stopped when he realized that the hair he had grabbed was now in his hands, ripped off the man¡¯s scalp. He let go of the hair, looking down at the man¡¯s lifeless eyes, which stared at nothing as dark red blood pooled on the ground.

    Felix looked away from the sight, trying to focus on the other fight. Harald looked worse for wear, obviously hindered by his wound, which was given to him by the same archer that Felix had killed. The guardsman slowly got up, stumbling to a wall as he watched Haggard deflect another blow from the spear woman. She was having trouble fighting both of them but was handling it very well.

    ¡°Old geezer! Get to the guard! I¡¯ll hold her off!¡± Haggard shouted. He looked exhausted. The several drinks he probably had back at the tavern were obviously not sitting well. Still, he held his grin, swinging his hammer at the woman again as Harald took his advice. Felix watched as Harald made his way to him. The guard slid to the ground, resting against the nearby wall as the old veteran knelt beside him.

    ¡°Are you bleeding?¡± Harald asked as he gestured towards the blood that had stained his clothes and hand. Felix hadn¡¯t even noticed it, his eyes blinking as he realized the blood on his body wasn¡¯t his own.

    ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t think so,¡± the guardsman responded before looking down at his left arm, which was still radiating pain now and then. ¡°But I can¡¯t move my arm and shoulder¡­¡± He winced as he tried, his left arm unresponsive. ¡°I think it¡¯s dislocated.¡±

    Harald nodded, moving in to grab his left arm.

    ¡°Alright, brace yourself. This is going to hurt. A lot.¡±

    Felix took a couple of deep breaths, watching as Harald suddenly forced his shoulder back into its socket. The pain was so blinding and sudden that Felix couldn¡¯t even scream. After a couple of seconds, he felt a pop and a fresh wave of pain.

    ¡°F-Fuck! You couldn¡¯t make it any more painful!?¡± Felix shouted at the man.

    ¡°Believe me, it could¡¯ve been worse,¡± Harald responded before wincing as he held his wound. The veteran sat down on the ground with Felix. He was out of the count, the fight with the marauder and the spear woman draining him of whatever energy he had. Felix struggled to get up, looking over at Haggard as he fought with the spear women.

    The drunkard had a couple of fresh cuts on his arm and clothing but seemed unfazed as he deflected another attack, using his hammer to counterattack. He missed by a couple of inches, resulting in the marauder¡¯s helmet flying off. The woman stumbled back in surprise, her eyes wide as Haggard went for the finishing blow. Felix watched as the woman quickly recovered, using her small shield to deflect the hammer. He saw how both fighters were open, a small window where both were vulnerable.

    Felix didn¡¯t think, his weak legs propelling him towards the woman marauder.

    The weak guardsman collided with her and, thankfully, did not get stabbed by her spear. Both landed on the ground in a cloud of dust, with Felix struggling to hold her down. He kicked the spear away, putting all his weight on her left side so she wouldn¡¯t use her shield to bash him. Still, Felix was surprised at how strong she was, her arms easily capable of throwing him off. But she had been in a long fight, her breath heavy and tired as she tried to force him off. Felix held his ground, even through her constant punches.

    ¡°Haggard! Get her!¡± Felix yelled. He waited for Haggard to swing his hammer and cave her skull in, but the blow never came. ¡°Haggard!!¡± he shouted again, looking up at the drunkard. Haggard''s face showed a disappointed look.

    ¡®What is he doing? Kill her!¡¯ Felix thought furiously before he felt the woman beneath kick him off, catching him by surprise. She was now above him, her fist raised to punch Felix.

    Then, suddenly, Haggard¡¯s hammer came in, hitting her head and knocking her off. Felix panted as he rested on the ground, looking up at the idiot who had nearly cost him his life.

    ¡°What took you so long?¡± He asked venomously, struggling to sit up.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t fair. To kill her like that,¡± Haggard commented.

    ¡°I could¡¯ve died!¡± Felix pointed out. The guard focused his gaze on the woman. Anger filled him when he saw her armored chest rise and fall, rhythmic with her breathing.

    ¡®She¡¯s still alive¡­¡¯

    Felix scrambled to find a weapon, settling on the heavy debris around him. The guardsman picked up a heavy rock, grunting as he moved to finish the job. Haggard¡¯s hammer blocked him, the drunkard¡¯s head shaking.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Felix felt his anger boil.

    ¡°She¡¯s a killer! A monster! Like the rest of them!¡± He argued.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know that,¡± Haggard responded.

    Felix dropped his heavy rock in disbelief. ¡°What makes you so certain that she won¡¯t try to kill us at the first chance when she wakes up?¡±

    ¡°She could have easily done so earlier.¡± Haggard gestured to his own wounds, which were minor cuts and gashes. Felix realized they were all on his arms and legs, none near his vitals. ¡°She was deliberately aiming for non-lethal spots. Perhaps she was trying to wound me, make an opening. But I have a feeling she wasn¡¯t.¡± He gestured at the woman herself, a red welt forming on her forehead as she lay unconscious.

    ¡°She also didn¡¯t use her knife on you,¡± Haggard pointed out.

    Felix blinked, focusing his eyes on what looked to be a dagger¡¯s hilt. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter; we¡¯ll have to deal with her, eventually. She¡¯s a marauder, not some random adventurer in a bout.¡± Felix sighed, falling back on his ass as he rested finally. Haggard nodded, agreeing with Felix.

    ¡°Do what you must, but don¡¯t kill her,¡± he said.

    ¡°Why are you obsessed with keeping her alive?¡± The guardsman asked.

    Haggard grinned a spark of excitement in his eyes. ¡°She¡¯s one of the toughest warriors I¡¯ve had the pleasure of fighting. I still want to have another rematch with her someday.¡±

    <hr>

    Embers floated around the smoke and fog, more so than before. It lit the area around James, and some embers landed on his skin, burning him. He gritted his teeth, slowly getting up as he took a breath of air. He breathed in more ash than oxygen, making him cough and spit onto the ground. There was the taste of blood and ash in his mouth, forcing him to spit on the ground again before he wiped his mouth with his bandaged left arm. His once-white bandages were now a dirty gray and black, a smear of red on them. He had bitten his lip at some point, which explained the stinging pain in his mouth.

    James looked around, looking for any signs of the Abomination. Nothing but the burning buildings nearby, which had increased in intensity. There were bodies around, those of Thomas and the two dead marauders.

    ¡®Did she kill it?¡¯ James thought.

    Suddenly, a familiar, horrible noise sounded out.

    Click click click

    It was fainter, slower, and weaker. Yet it still sent shivers down his spine. James tensed up at the sound and continued to trudge through the smoke and ash. He felt so tired, so exhausted, but he needed to stay awake. The embers helped to jolt him awake as they came into contact and burned his skin.

    ¡®Drop!¡¯ Faust shouted out of nowhere, surprising James.

    Still, the young man didn¡¯t hesitate, letting himself drop to the ground as something fiery and jagged swung at him out of nowhere. James looked up to see the thing, his eyes widening as he saw what had happened to it. Half of its body was smoldering, embers rising from its body as heaps of burning flesh fell off of it. Its single eye blazed a furious red.

    ¡°You!¡± it shrieked before it swung its flaming left arm at him again.

    James barely dodged, fighting the pain and exhaustion as he tried to stand. The creature was on him again, using its leg to kick James in the chest, knocking him down. James flew back, rolling on the ground as pain spread throughout his torso. It took him a couple of seconds to finally breathe again, gasping for air as he looked for the monster. The flaming Abomination was limping and dragging towards him, its teeth clicking as it neared James.

    A flying rock stopped its advance, hitting it square in the face. Dahlia''s voice yelled through the smoke right after.

    ¡°Over here!¡±

    The thing moved to the source of the shaman¡¯s call, turning its back on James.

    James took the chance to grab himself a piece of the nearby burning debris. He clutched onto a beam of smoldering wood, raising it with all his strength before he swung at the creature. He broke the flaming board over its head to no effect. The creature turned, its deformed right hand shooting up to grab James by the throat. The thing¡¯s grasp was ice cold, a stark contrast to its burning condition. It rasped out to James, the remaining eye burning into his.

    ¡°We will strip the flesh off your bones and consume your beating heart before¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just shut the fuck up,¡± James interrupted, gritting his teeth as he reached into his jacket¡¯s pocket. ¡°Villain monologues are way overplayed.¡±

    Without hesitating, he jammed Dahlia¡¯s dagger into the side of its head, right at the jaw. The creature screamed in agony, dropping James onto the ground.

    ¡°Dahlia! It¡¯s open!¡± James shouted, regaining his breath. The shaman ran out of the smoke, dodging the creature¡¯s feeble attempts to attack. She seemed to have noticed the dagger, and her hands immediately grabbed it. The shaman yelled in effort as she forced it across its jaw, the sound of bone breaking and tendons ripping as she cut through it. She fell to the ground right after, dagger in hand, as the creature stumbled.

    The thing¡¯s jaw hung from its mouth, unable to talk or chatter. Yet, it screamed in agony at the two.

    ¡°James! Finish it!¡± Dahlia shouted.

    James looked for a weapon nearby, his eyes scanning the street. He soon spotted Thomas¡¯ sword in the burning debris nearby, its blade buried in the flames. Without hesitation, he grabbed its burning handle, screaming with pain and effort as he stood and lunged at the malformed creature. It tried to block with its crystalized left arm, but James swung at it, the burning sword shattering the arm like nothing. The air glittered with the crystal fragments as he locked his stare with the creature once more.

    Without pause, the man from Earth lunged at the Abomination¡¯s head, his heated sword inbound. The red-hot blade pierced its open maw, sizzling as it burned and cut through skull and brain. James pushed the sword to its guard, the tip protruding from the back of its head.

    He stared into the Abomination¡¯s lone eye, watching as it changed through several stages of emotions. Anger, relief, sadness, and pure hatred before it slowly faded into darkness. James panted as he released the sword¡¯s handle, both his hands burnt and raw as he dropped to the ground, the thing¡¯s body falling next to him. It was finally done. The creature was dead and gone.

    James watched as the fog spell finally dissipated, letting him glimpse the beautiful gray sky through the black smoke and dust. His body was exhausted and in constant pain. Right now, he just wanted to sleep.

    ¡°James¡­¡± Dahlia spoke out, her voice quivering. ¡°Get up.¡±

    James grunted with effort as he sat up, wondering what she needed. His eyes widened in realization as he stared down at the last of their problems. The bald marauder, the one who had accompanied Deimos, was standing there, sword in hand, as he looked upon them. James could remember his name.

    ¡°Havor¡­¡±

 Chapter 24: The Marauder

    Little Seamus laid in the green grass of the training field, his gaze on the clouds going by. His wooden sword lay next to him, weathered by time and use.

    ¡°Seamus!¡±

    Someone called out, catching his attention. His trainer, Roger, was walking towards him, a disappointed look on his face as he approached the young child. Seamus sighed and stood up to meet his trainer.

    ¡°Sir Roger, I already did the slashes and stabs, I swear!¡± He lied.

    Roger sighed, scratching his head as he looked down at Seamus.

    ¡°I know, but your father has called for you and wants to know how your practice is going¡­¡± The trainer revealed the real reason he was there.

    ¡°Do I have to?¡± Seamus sighed, not wanting another confrontation with his father.

    Father had been training Seamus since he could walk, wanting him to be the strongest warrior out there and the next heir to the clan. Despite nearly everyone in the clan supporting this and telling the boy he was lucky, Seamus didn¡¯t want to be like his father. In fact, he admired his mother more, who was a calm lady who focused more on academics and stories of the past. That had always fascinated Seamus, even if his father disapproved of his son learning such things over fighting. The young child had been training so long that he could perform an evisceration maneuver in his sleep.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to go, but he is your father, Seamus,¡± Roger pointed out. ¡°Are you really going to disobey him?¡±

    Seamus ignored the question, his thoughts going to the man who ruled the Bear Clan. He wondered if he wanted to see his father, as the man had never really talked about anything other than fighting and tactics.

    ¡°Seamus?¡±

    Still, Seamus knew his father only wanted the best out of him, even if the child didn¡¯t like it.

    ¡°Seamus?¡±

    But the boy was not a fighter, as he always did his best to avoid genuine conflict.

    ¡°Seamus!¡± Roger¡¯s voice was different now, almost frantic. It was like-

    ¡°Seamus!¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Seamus!!¡±

    Kate''s voice brought the young man back, his eyes fluttering open to see the young shop owner. She had specks of blood on her face, as well as on her clothes. Seamus quickly sat up, panicked, before she calmed him down, shushing him.

    ¡°I¡¯m not hurt¡­ This isn¡¯t my blood,¡± Kate explained. Seamus looked down at himself, realizing he was also covered in the crimson substance. Seamus felt sick, unsure if it was his own. He looked around, realizing that they were outside of the shop. He could see flames flickering on some of the nearby buildings, dark plumes of smoke rising into the sky.

    ¡°What¡­ What happened?¡± He asked.

    Kate blinked in confusion.

    ¡°You don¡¯t remember?¡± She questioned.

    Seamus shook his head. ¡°All I remember is that I confronted the marauders¡­ and everything went blurry¡­ I passed out.¡± He looked towards her. ¡°What happened? Did we escape? How did you get me out?¡±

    Kate looked even more confused, her brow furrowing in worry.

    ¡°Seamus¡­ You killed them all.¡±

    <hr>

    Havor looked straight at the young man before him. The nobody who had died to Deimos had a name now. Havor had heard it from the shaman herself. James, the man thought to be dead, was now alive, even if only barely.

    Havor¡¯s gaze moved to the surrounding destruction. He spotted Yemin and Borov dead, along with what looked to be a town¡¯s guardsman. Havor focused on the dead thing near them. It was unrecognizable, its body burnt to all hel and a red-hot sword in its mouth. It emitted a horrible stench, forcing Havor to scrunch up his nose.

    The marauder had been lost throughout the fog, only finding the fight after some time. Unfortunately, it appeared he was too late. He had been watching the encounter since the woman had yelled at James to finish it.

    The bald marauder took a step forward, his short sword in hand, as he glanced at the shaman woman. She was standing now, dagger in hand, as she wobbled. Havor didn¡¯t worry about her. He turned back to James, who attempted to stand, a look of effort and pain on his face as he tried.

    Havor stopped, looking down at the short sword he carried. Without a word, he tossed the blade to the young man.

    James stared down at the weapon, silent for a moment. He looked up at the marauder, his jaw visibly clenching.

    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna fight you,¡± he muttered adamantly.

    ¡°You will. Otherwise, I¡¯m going to kill you and burn this town down myself.¡± Havor said before he unsheathed his own sword. He knew that the young man truly had no choice other than to die a coward. James scowled at his words but didn¡¯t argue. Instead, he leaned over to pick up the short sword, his body shaking as he entered his stance.

    ¡®Come on. Put up a damn fight. Give me a reason.¡¯

    Havor didn¡¯t want to do this. If it were up to him, he¡¯d simply spare the fool and hunt for Seamus himself. Alas, things weren¡¯t so simple. Regardless of his good intentions, Deimos would kill Havor and burn this island down. There was no other choice than to follow orders. The only thing Havor could do was hope that James would give him a good enough reason to kill him¡ªto give him a warrior¡¯s death.

    ¡°Come on! Let¡¯s do this!¡± Havor shouted. He tapped his shield with his blade, instigating the fight.

    Surprisingly, the shaman was the first one to rush at him. Havor easily blocked her dagger attack, using his shield to bash her away. His counter was enough to make her stumble and fall onto the ground. James came up right after, his arms swinging his sword primitively. Havor also blocked this attack, his shield reflecting the sword''s strike with ease. He then shoved James back and quickly slashed at his side, cutting through the young man¡¯s clothes and giving him a light wound.

    Havor slashed at the young man¡¯s leg right after, opening a bleeding gash on his thigh. James yelled in pain, stumbling back in response to the wound. He tried to attack again, going for a stab at Havor. Havor simply used his shield, the blade sticking into its wood. The marauder grimaced and moved to pull his shield away. It nearly slipped out of his grasp, but the marauder kept a good grip on it.

    ¡°This is the best you can do?¡± Havor smacked James with the shield and threw him back to the ground. He kicked James in his gut right after, rolling him over onto his back. ¡°No fight, no determination. Just a na?ve idiot who doesn¡¯t know better.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this,¡± James panted. He locked eyes with Havor. "There has to be another way.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t get it, do you?¡± Havor muttered. He raised his sword, ready to strike down on the young man. ¡°This was never going to end any other way. Not with Deimos. Your town was doomed the minute he laid eyes on it.¡±

    However, before Havor could bring his blade down, someone jumped on his back, catching him off guard. He struggled to get them off before he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.

    ¡°Agh! Shit!¡± Havor finally shook off what seemed to be the woman from earlier, her grip not lasting long on his armor. She fell to the ground, but not before leaving a few nasty gashes on his shoulder.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Havor didn¡¯t have time to recover when he felt his shield being forcefully yanked away. He was unable to react in time to grab it back, leaving himself defenseless. Havor turned to see that it was now in the hands of a standing James, who held it like a weapon. The marauder didn¡¯t react before James bashed the edge of the shield into his jaw, knocking him back as blood and pain filled his mouth.

    ¡°Give up! I don¡¯t want to kill you!¡± James managed out in strained breaths.

    Havor didn¡¯t listen. He was too angry, full of rage, as he spat out his bloodied teeth. He flew at the young man, who used his new shield to block the marauder¡¯s advance. James dodged another sword strike, slipping past Havor and bashing at him from behind.

    Havor gritted his teeth before he struck out again, trying to land a hit on the man. James blocked his attack again, the blade sticking onto the shield. Both men struggled with the conjoined weapons, James yelling as he tried to push Havor back. The marauder was still stronger, overpowering James enough to push him back to the ground. With the younger man went the shield and sword, leaving the marauder without either.

    Havor didn¡¯t care. He pulled his dagger out and kicked the shield and sword away. Both items made a clattering sound as they slid away, out of reach of both men. James still tried to fight back, his fist swinging at Havor. The marauder backed away and slashed at his arm, causing the man to yell out in pain. Havor slashed him once more before kicking James in the chest, knocking him down.

    ¡°You should¡¯ve killed me when you had a chance,¡± Havor called out as he approached the fallen man. James was trying to crawl away, but Havor was already catching up to him. ¡°I should¡¯ve made sure you were dead when Deimos killed you¡­ I should¡¯ve finished you! I should¡¯ve¨C¡±

    A woman¡¯s shout came out of nowhere, interrupting Havor¡¯s words and catching his attention. He looked up to see the shaman woman some meters away, unsure of what she had said. Her amber eyes stared him down, hesitant, as she aimed her raised hand at him.

    Havor¡¯s eyes widened as he looked down at his chest, where red ethereal symbols materialized onto his armor. Before he could say anything, the symbols dissipated into red flames, engulfing him in seconds.

    <hr>

    James watched in horror as the marauder screamed agonizingly, the flames cooking his flesh and burning his body. The young man wanted to run, to get away from the sight, but his body was too weak, too injured, to move normally. The marauder soon fell to his knees, his screaming slowly weakening as his whole body went down.

    Then silence.

    There was only the sound of sizzling flesh, with the occasional wet pop coming from the body. James wanted to hurl, but even that was too much for his weak body to do. He heard Dahlia collapse behind him, her weak groaning snapping him away from the horrible sight. She was lying on the ground, her nose bleeding as she wheezed.

    The shaman had reached her limit on magical castings. It only made sense after all the spells she had cast throughout the day.

    ¡°Dahlia?¡± James managed out. He turned onto his stomach and crawled over to her slowly.

    ¡°James? Don¡¯t come closer¡­ I think I¡¯m gonna throw up.¡± Dahlia groaned.

    James stopped his slow crawl.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I think I¡¯m in that same boat,¡± he commented.

    The shaman looked confused. ¡°You really need to explain these phrases and references you keep using¡­ It¡¯s really confusing.¡±

    James wanted to laugh, but he coughed instead. He smiled as he turned onto his back, his body finally at rest. He felt a cold drop of water hit his face, a distant sound of thunder echoing throughout the sky. Rain slowly hit the surrounding ground, some hitting his body as an icy breeze swept past. James welcomed the cold, his overheated body finally cooling down.

    Soon enough, he heard footsteps approaching nearby. He guessed it was a group of people from the sound of it.

    ¡®Harald and Seamus?¡¯

    James slowly turned back onto his stomach to greet his friends.

    His heart dropped at the sight of Deimos. Where James had expected Harald with Seamus, instead stood the chieftain and his entourage of marauders.

    Deimos was clad in his black plate armor, his bear cloak covering his arms and shoulders. Others who wore similar armor even accompanied him.

    The chieftain looked around at the hellish scene, a look of surprise on his face as he walked towards Havor¡¯s corpse. The man completely ignored James, his focus on the burning body of one of his men. He leaned down and grabbed a short sword from nearby, the same one James had used.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s tits¡­ What happened?¡± Deimos muttered. He seemed to notice James then and there, his eyes widening.

    ¡°You,¡± Deimos said. He sounded more surprised than malicious. ¡°How?¡± He started. The man looked back at the other bodies before going back to James. ¡°I was sure you died when I pierced your heart.¡±

    ¡°I got better,¡± James grunted as he spoke. Without missing a beat, the young man flashed the marauder a wry smile.

    ¡°Clearly,¡± Deimos muttered back before he took one more look at Havor. ¡°Eli. How many dead?¡±

    A robed spellcaster stepped out from the crowd in response, his hands carrying a long staff. He had a crimson blindfold and black mage robes tucked under his black-plated armor.

    ¡°Roughly eleven dead in the last couple of hours. Nine of them are ours.¡±

    ¡°Any survivors?¡± Deimos asked.

    The man named Eli paused, seemingly in thought, before answering,

    ¡°One. She¡¯s held prisoner, though¡­¡±

    Deimos nodded and rubbed his beard as he walked from his group of marauders. He turned to James, holding the sword he had picked up moments ago.

    ¡°I should kill you. Gut you like a fish and hang you by your entrails. That¡¯s what anyone like you deserves.¡± Deimos walked closer to James. He then did something that surprised the young man. He grinned, his hand stabbing the sword into an exposed patch of dirt.

    ¡°But... something about you intrigues me like no one else before.¡± He knelt next to James, his green eyes staring into James¡¯ blue irises.

    ¡°What is your name?¡±

    James resisted the sudden instinct to spit at Deimos¡¯ face.

    ¡°Holter. My name is James Holter.¡± He spoke back with just as much confidence as Deimos. The marauder¡¯s grin grew wider before he stood up. He turned his back to James just as the rain slowly intensified.

    ¡°Well, James Holter¡­ I¡¯ll let you live for now. I¡¯ll even leave you the ship my worthless marauders came here on. But remember this.¡± Deimos turned to look at James for the last time. ¡°We will meet again, whether it be on the battlefield or on a raid. We will meet. I hope by then that you¡¯ll put up a good fight.¡± Just as Deimos walked off with his marauders, James forced himself to yell out.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make sure it¡¯ll be your last fight, Deimos! You can count on it!¡±

    The chieftain of the marauders didn¡¯t turn, but James knew he had heard him.

    Rain poured onto the small town, extinguishing the fires around it. It was cold and freezing, but James didn¡¯t care. He welcomed the icy rain, his overheated body relaxing as it cooled off. He heard more footsteps now, and this time, it was who he had expected¡ªsort of. It was Harald and that one drunk from the bar, Haggard. They rushed to James and Dahlia to aid them.

    ¡°What the hell happened?¡± Harald asked, kneeling next to the blond man.

    James couldn¡¯t help but chuckle softly, not answering as they looked down at him. There was nothing funny about the situation, yet James continued to chuckle and even giggle. The two men stared at the young man with looks of confusion on their faces.

    James soon broke into laughter, his nerve long gone as tears flowed down his face. He cackled hysterically, letting out all the stress that had built up these last few days. It wasn¡¯t more laughing as it was wheezing air from his lungs. Still, James laughed for a long time, up until he finally passed out, exhaustion finally overtaking him.

    <hr>

    Deimos, the Red Death of the North, walked placidly through the rain as his marauders followed behind. They weren¡¯t anything like the low-level bandits he had left with Havor. Almost all of them had plate armor similar to Deimos'', their red handprints almost glowing on their chests. As they neared Bloody Mary, Deimos spoke up.

    ¡°Leave Frostbite here. And a note,¡± he clarified, remembering his talk with James. The marauders seemed to hesitate, but none would dare to defy or question his orders. Well, except for one. Eli stepped up, his brown hair wet from the rain. Still, the blindfolded man didn¡¯t seem to care about it.

    ¡°Why are we leaving them the ship? Furthermore, why are we sparing them? We could still kill them all and find Seamus. What about the vault?¡±

    Deimos raised his hand to quiet the spellcaster. Eli went silent, but his features remained concerned. Deimos took a moment to think before answering.

    ¡°James has potential. There is something strangely alluring about him. I¡¯m certain he is to grow just as strong as Yorn. Perhaps even stronger.¡± Deimos couldn¡¯t quite place it, but James reminded him of the late Jarl, of the warriors of old. The thought that such a man could defy death and come back to go against stacked odds¡­ and win.

    Deimos was excited to see what would become of James in the future if he was given enough time and resources. It would be interesting to see what the strange man was capable of. Given some time, he could even prove to be a beneficial factor in Valenfrost. A tool Deimos himself could shape and temper.

    ¡°What about the ship and the vault?¡± Eli asked. ¡°You know why we can¡¯t give him this ship.¡±

    ¡°Every adventurer deserves a reward after a quest, do they not?¡± Deimos responded with a grin. ¡°Besides, we have more ships like Frostbite back home. Giving James one like this would prove to be¡­ interesting in the future.¡± The marauder turned to his ship. ¡°As for the vault. The vault can wait. We already have enough gold and weapons from Yorn¡¯s fort to last us a century.¡±

    ¡°If you wish, sir,¡± Eli muttered in defeat.

    With that, Deimos and his marauders returned to the ship, which would soon depart. By the end of the night, the Marauders of the North had left Yorktown to raid other islands and towns.

 Chapter 25: Frost

    James had been in bed for five whole days, sleeping and resting his wounds at Dahlia¡¯s hut as he was treated by some nice townsfolk. He apparently had it the worst, right next to Felix and Dahlia. The old doctor who had treated him called it a miracle that he had survived at all. He recommended that James not get up at all for the rest of the week and not to disturb his bandages. Regardless, the injured man had tried to get out there to help fix the damage done to the town. On his third attempt, Dahlia had threatened to break his legs to force him to stay in bed. James didn¡¯t like it, but he complied.

    He did help, though, by instructing Harald and Haggard to burn the corpse of the creature that had attacked Yorktown and to find out where it had come from. They returned to him a day later, informing him of the cabin they had found in the forest and the fate of those who had lived there. They had burned those bodies, too, as they had crystallized in the same way as the creature. Harald had never seen anything like it, and Haggard was disturbed by the mere thought of such a creature. James had thanked them, and they went off to help with the rebuilding.

    James had also noticed Seamus¡¯ attitude, as he seemed more lively. He wasn¡¯t cracking jokes or anything, but he wasn¡¯t as depressing as before. Still, his face would lose color as soon as anyone asked about his involvement in the raid. Seamus would refuse to talk about it.

    According to the shopkeeper who was saved by Seamus, the young man had single-handedly killed four marauders in quick succession, all without a single scratch on him. Dahlia had described what the bodies had looked like, and it sent shivers down James'' spine.

    ¡®What is Seamus capable of?¡¯

    He wanted to talk to Seamus about it, but something told him he shouldn¡¯t ask around.

    Felix didn¡¯t want to talk to James, not after discovering Thomas¡¯ fate. James had wanted to talk things over, to explain everything. Still, he ultimately decided against it, knowing that the archer needed time. James was the reason why they needed to burn the dead guard¡¯s body, as it had started to crystalize soon after that fateful day. James and Faust hoped it would be the last they ever saw of the thing.

    Unfortunately, it was all the young man could see in his new nightmares, which had replaced his strange, unexplainable dreams. He would always wake up out of breath and covered in sweat. Fortunately, he wasn''t loud enough to wake Dahlia and Seamus from their slumber, both of whom slept near him.

    Dahlia¡¯s hut was where James would be living, and the same was true for Seamus, as he felt much more comfortable around them both. James didn¡¯t want to admit it, but he was glad that they were there with him when he slept. It relieved him to know that his nightmare was just a nightmare.

    Throughout the days when Seamus and Dahlia weren¡¯t around, James would talk with Faust to pass the time. Unfortunately, the forgetful spirit wasn¡¯t much fun to talk to. As he rested and healed, James would often glance over at his father, whose urn continued to sit in the corner undisturbed. He would often remember the promise he had made to his father back on Earth.

    ¡°When I pass away in this world¡­ promise me you¡¯ll spread my ashes here, at my home.¡±

    James never fulfilled his father¡¯s dying wish. He had always pushed it back, making excuses to himself like,

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it next year.¡± ¡°There are too many people over there.¡± ¡°I have no time.¡±

    It was always excuses, excuses that not even he himself believed in. He would think about this up until the fifth day.

    It was already evening, and the sky above was slowly dimming. James slipped out of bed, groaning as his bedsore body slowly walked to the corner of the room. Half of his body was covered in bandages, an improvement from the first day of rest. Dahlia was currently out picking herbs, and Seamus was in town, helping with the town¡¯s rebuilding. James was all alone. Well, not exactly.

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    ¡®You sure you want to get up?¡¯ Faust asked, just as James bent over to pick up some clothes to slip into.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Besides, I need to move around anyway. I can¡¯t just stay in bed and not stretch every once in a while.¡± James slipped on a wool shirt and winced as he moved his sore legs to put on some pants. He didn''t even bother to tie up his boots once he slipped them on. Soon enough, James was ready to go out, his hands moving to grab his father¡¯s urn. The young man shivered as he stepped out into the cold outside. The skies were a little clearer, the distant sun visible between them.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen the sun since my first day here,¡± James commented. He clutched onto the urn as he made his way up the small mountain nearby.

    It took a while, longer than James had expected, to climb the overgrown hill. There was more snow than he had realized.

    ¡°Dahlia did say that Frost was approaching,¡± James remembered, dreading the cold season as he walked. He had also been learning some more about the world he was in. Like on Earth, there were four seasons in total, but this world¡¯s seasons were warped.

    The Frost season took over most of the year, dwarfing Gale and Bloom. Sommar was the only bastion of hope when actual warm weather, but even that lasted for only two months before going into eight more months of cold. At the moment, regular, brutal Frost was approaching, and the otherworldly man would have to be ready.

    James caught his breath as he reached his destination, looking over at the small entrance into the mountain, the one that led to the very place he was summoned. He turned over at a cliff that overlooked the island and the black waters of the ocean. The sun was now setting in the distance, casting its orange light onto the sea and clouds. James noticed a figure sitting nearby, their shadow casting all across the ground. It was Dahlia, sitting peacefully at the cliff¡¯s edge.

    ¡°Dahlia?¡± James asked, snapping the shaman away from her thoughts. She looked over at him, her brow furrowing.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be in bed?¡± She asked in surprise.

    James shrugged. ¡°Thought I¡¯d go for a walk¡­ and fulfill a promise while I¡¯m at it.¡± He looked at his father, the silver urn reflecting the beautiful orange sunlight. Dahlia sighed, turning her head back to the sunset. James walked up next to her, grunting with effort as he sat down next to her, clutching his father¡¯s urn close.

    ¡°Why are you up here?¡± James asked.

    ¡°I like to come here to think,¡± Dahlia said simply, sighing as she kicked a small pebble off the cliff. James refrained from asking the painfully obvious question of what she was thinking about. Instead, he nodded, staying quiet as the two sat. ¡°What promise are you going to fulfill?¡± Dahlia asked, looking over at James.

    The blond man gently tapped the urn.

    ¡°I promised him I would spread his ashes in his homeland, Norway. But I, uh¡­ I never managed to do it.¡± He gestured towards the sea. ¡°I know I can¡¯t go back home, but¡­ well, the waters here remind me of a lake my dad loved back home. It reminded him of home, so I¡¯m sure this will as well. At least, if he was still alive.¡±

    James glanced at Dahlia, expecting to see her weirded out or fascinated. But she wasn¡¯t. Her face had the look of someone who understood, someone who sympathized with him. James had seen people do it before, back when his mother had died. They had told him that they were sorry and faked a similar look to try to make him feel better. The only difference, however, was that Dahlia actually seemed to hurt with him, as she had gone through the same thing. She wasn¡¯t faking it, her amber eyes showing him that she truly sympathized.

    James turned back to his father, swallowing his emotions as he stood up. The wind blew softly through his hair as he looked out at the sunset. His hands shook as he went to grab the lid. Yet, despite having his hand there, he hesitated. His father was all he had left. All he had left of Earth, home and family. He couldn¡¯t let go of it. Not as easily as he had initially thought. Just as James decided to give up again, he felt a gentle hand over his. Dahlia didn¡¯t say a word as she guided his hands, pulling off the lid of the urn. Both of them slowly turned the urn towards the sunset, the ashes of his father falling out before being carried by the gentle cold breeze. The ashes flew off, disappearing into the distant horizon. Both James and Dahlia stood there quietly, their hands still holding each other as they watched the sunset.

    For the first time in years, James felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

 Epilogue (End of Book One)

    The spellcaster looked down at the illusory map of Valenfrost. He saw the magical ley lines of the world, both thick and thin, intersecting and navigating naturally throughout Valenfrost and beyond¡ªall except one. This one was jagged, tearing through the eastern-southern part of Valenfrost like a gash. It had first been a smaller one, not significant in the grand scheme of things, but it had doubled in size the next day and had been slowly growing.

    ¡°This is abnormal¡­ Otherworldly even,¡± his fellow Wizard spoke out, stroking his white goatee as he sat across the map.

    ¡°Seen nothing like this,¡± the spellcaster agreed.

    ¡°Should we inform the King?¡± A scribe asked, his eyes looking at the veteran spellcaster with worry.

    ¡°No. At least, not until we¡¯re sure of what this is. The King already has enough problems dealing with the rest of the Lumen Kingdom.¡± The spellcaster sighed, lying back in his comfy velvet chair. He stroked his graying beard. ¡°Scribe Harris, get some parchment. We¡¯re going to send one of our own out to investigate.¡± The scribe nodded, hurrying away.

    ¡°Who are you planning on sending?¡± The other Wizard asked, curiosity in his voice. The scribe arrived quickly, parchment in hand.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to send the ambassadors, who are already on their way to Haven. I¡¯ll send an apology to the Frue and tell them they got caught up in pirates or something¡­¡±

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    ¡°The ambassadors? Do you mean that cryomancer and that¡­ friend of his? Isn¡¯t he a Lumen Knight?¡± The Wizard asked.

    The spellcaster nodded.

    ¡°They both are, actually. I want to be sure of what we¡¯re dealing with and reduce the risk of our scouts dying.¡± He glanced at the scribe, who was scribbling down on the parchment. The young scribe knew exactly what to write since he had done it enough times. He was even granted a higher status than his colleagues for it. The spellcaster gestured for the parchment, which the scribe handed to happily.

    ¡°They are unstable, aren¡¯t they?¡± the Wizard asked. The spellcaster nodded again, taking a puff out of his pipe as he examined the parchment. He grabbed a quill to add a few extra details.

    ¡°They are, but they get results. Even if they are... Questionable results.¡±

    The Wizard seemed uneasy at the answer, but he didn¡¯t say a word as the spellcaster rested his quill aside and rolled up the parchment. The old man spoke a couple of choice words, runes appearing on the parchment before it completely burned up into flames. It would soon be sent to the ambassadors, and they would set on their mission.

    ¡°Where will you be sending them?¡± The Wizard asked.

    ¡°To where the breach started.¡± The spellcaster said simply. He leaned in to gently tap on the illusory map. The illusion shimmered, changing to examine the island the spellcaster had picked out.

    ¡°Yorktown, a small fishing town in the middle of nowhere. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll find our answers there.¡±

 B.2 Prologue: The Ambassadors

    Lumen Knight Gryff sat down on a crate on the bloodied deck, flexing his stiff fingers as his men dragged the orc bodies off the ship. The orcs were ugly creatures, their skin sickly shades of green and their features disfigured from possible inbreeding. Their sheer existence alone disgusted Gryff, as he wanted nothing more than to wipe them from the face of Azura.

    ¡®What sheer disdain for Delphine¡¯s light.¡¯

    Gryff looked at his longtime companion, who was currently wiping his gauntlet on one of the dead bodies, clearly trying to get the oily blood off. Lumen Knight Hugo had no trouble with the pirates. He even killed the last orc with ease when he crushed its skull under his boot.

    Still, Gryff knew that his friend was dissatisfied and wanted a more challenging fight against the brutes. Hugo had even told the men not to use arrows and Fireballs, calling it a waste of resources on worthless creatures. It was less than an understatement. The orcs had been fodder, proving much too easy for the knights.

    ¡®Nothing more than practice...¡¯

    Gryff reached into his spellcaster robes, which were tucked neatly under his armor, before pulling out a roll of parchment. It was singed on the edges, clearly sent from a high-standing Wizard from the king¡¯s council. Gryff unrolled it and read through the details again.

    The elderly man had sent them rough coordinates of where to go, but only named one settlement. A dinky little town called Yorktown. It was going to be a pain collecting the specimens Gryff needed. He knew damn well that it would take days to find the samples and to kill anyone who had come into contact. He would probably have to burn Yorktown.

    ¡®Alas, do I even have a choice?¡¯

    He didn¡¯t care about burning down the town; he had done worse before. Gryff was only disinterested and bored at the idea. The knight desired knowledge and the interesting, but his superiors only gave him dull tasks. Boring politics and fetch quests were the extent of his duties, and it was deteriorating his sanity bit by bit.

    At this rate, the Lumen Knight would be nothing more than a mundane adventurer, doomed for the monotony of killing and fetching. Nothing to fascinate his brain nor give him any sort of challenge.

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    Gryff sighed and rolled up the parchment before tucking it back into his robes. He decided to just bear with the current quest and hope something interesting would show soon. The knight gestured for his men to hurry, as he wanted to get to the small town in the next couple of days. If he was quick enough, he¡¯ll be back home in time for the New Year Transition.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get moving. I want to get done with this,¡± he voiced, his breath coming out in a puff of vapor. Just as he was about to head into his quarters, he noticed a strange movement among the many greenish bodies. An orc was still alive. The half-dead creature was attempting to crawl back to the boarding bridge that led to its ship.

    Gryff had to hold back his laughter at the pathetic attempt. He grinned as made his way to the orc, his fingers practicing runes. He would soon notice Hugo¡¯s red eyes following him, the behemoth seemingly curious about what Gryff had spotted.

    The cryomancer held out his hand, stopping his fellow knight from coming any closer.

    ¡®This one¡¯s mine¡­¡¯

    It wouldn¡¯t take long before the dumb creature noticed Gryff, its eyes widening as it frantically tried to get up to run.

    ¡°Ice Lance,¡± Gryff muttered as he aimed his right hand. Glowing blue runes appeared in front of his fingers, materializing slowly into the needle of ice he was casting.

    Normally, the spell ¡®Ice Lance¡¯ would be around a meter long, its intended purpose being for bigger targets. However, Gryff had shaped and modified this spell, making it thinner and shorter, until it was akin to a rapier¡¯s blade.

    It was perfect for armored targets, distracted Wizards, and close quarter combat. Despite this, Gryff exclusively used it whenever he got into a fight. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but there was a certain enjoyment in making his targets suffer as they pleaded for mercy.

    Gryff¡¯s small lance of ice shot forward. It precisely hit the green idiot¡¯s knee and forced it into a stumble.

    ¡°Ice Lance,¡± Gryff cast, the lance hitting the orc¡¯s shoulder this time.

    ¡°Ice Lance,¡± he called out again, the next one pinning the orc¡¯s arm to the ship¡¯s deck.

    Gryff reached the fallen creature, who whimpered in pain. The knight pressed a boot to its back, forcing it down as it tried to crawl again. His fingers glowed a soft blue as they aimed at the orc¡¯s neck.

    ¡°I could let you live. Have you send a message to your disgusting tribe, but we both know that it won¡¯t happen. Your kind will never stop. Not until you are all wiped from the surface,¡± the Lumen Knight muttered, his disgust clear in his voice. The orc frantically tried to move, opening its mouth to beg before Gryff¡¯s words spoke out before him.

    ¡°Ice Lance.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 1: Morning Routine

    1

    Yorktown

    <hr>

    The cloudy gray sky of Valenfrost was all Dahlia could see as she laid on the cold ground. She blinked, unsure of how and why she was here. The shaman slowly got up, only seeing snow and dead trees around her. She walked, unsure of what she was experiencing. Soft chants beckoned her from every direction, her eyes moving to see where they were coming from.

    There were no visible sources, only the dead forest and the darkness that lingered beyond it. It all looked familiar, too familiar. Dahlia stopped suddenly, her eyes focusing on a single dead tree. There was a rune carved into it, but no magic emanated from it. She inched closer, recognizing it as she brushed her fingers against it.

    ¡°Where have I seen this before?¡± She asked herself, trying to remember where she had seen this particular rune.

    ¡°To become a shaman, you must learn death and its secrets,¡± an old voice croaked out, the chanting suddenly going quiet.

    Dahlia blinked. She was now smaller than she had been before. She was a child again, her body shivering from the cold as she held the big dagger in front of her. The old voice spoke again, the snow around her becoming more mushy and watery.

    ¡°You must be able to learn nature and its gifts.¡±

    Dahlia could feel her small body sinking into the snow, her eyes widening as she tried to get out. She could see a figure emerging from the dead woods, an old shaman whose beard was long and braided. His stern eyes stared down Dahlia, who couldn¡¯t seem to call for help.

    ¡°You must be brave and fearless. Otherwise, the spirits will overwhelm you, and so will your failures.¡±

    Dahlia watched as she sank into the marsh, her hand reaching out to the sky before the ground entirely consumed her.

    <hr>

    Dahlia Astera gasped awake, sweat dotting her forehead as she caught her breath. She looked around, almost expecting to see herself out in the forest once more. Instead, she found herself in her cot, the dawn¡¯s glow peering through the small opening in her roof. The faint morning light was weak, but it was enough to illuminate the hut.

    Dahlia looked around her small home, her eyes squinting. She could see James¡¯ figure in his own cot, Seamus¡¯ own cot next to his. They were both asleep, snoring softly under their blankets. Dahlia longed to slip into James¡¯ cot like a child looking for refuge, hopefully sleeping away the nightmare under his warmth. She could feel her face redden as she shook that thought away.

    ¡®Too tired to think straight.¡¯

    Dahlia laid back in her cot, sighing softly as she tried to remember the dream. This was one of the first nightmares in years, and she knew it had to mean something. Despite her best efforts, however, she could only recover bits and pieces. Even then, none of it made sense. It wasn¡¯t long before she soon gave up on trying to remember, frustrated with herself.

    ¡®I need some fresh air... Clear my head¡­¡¯

    Dahlia sat up and reached over to grab her warmer clothing nearby, which sat neatly folded. She slipped on her tunic over her sleeved shirt before moving to put on her overpants and hide boots. Once she was upright, she tied her hair up, her fingers tying her raven black locks into a messy bun.

    Before she left, Dahlia debated on whether to relight the fire pit. Its logs were dead, the embers glowing softly and its heat nearly gone. She pondered for a moment before deciding that the two men were fine. She could relight it later. With that, the shaman crept out of the hut, her feet light and her hood up.

    The outside air was freezing, but Dahlia welcomed the refreshing feeling of the icy wind. The sun still wasn¡¯t up, but she could see its light dawning on the horizon. She took another breath, seeing the steam puffs of her breath rise in front of her. Dahlia started walking, her poncho-like cloak wrapped around her torso. The custom-made garment protected her from the freezing wind that passed by.

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    Frost had come a little earlier this year, making it harder for her to find the herbs needed for medicine and the animals she needed to hunt for food. Still, she could manage, as she had always done these last eight years. Dahlia walked through the snowy path, occasionally stopping to gather some herbs and berries she had spotted.

    She knelt next to some Girnleaf, checking to see if the leaves were jagged or not.

    ¡®Smooth means poison. Jagged means healing.¡¯

    A distant voice in her memory seemed to remind her. Dahlia followed it, picking the leaves that had jagged edges, whilst avoiding the ones with smooth edges. The voice was not of a spirit or a telepathic spellcaster. It was a distant memory of a man who had taught her how to survive and prosper on her lonesome. The same man who had also raised her.

    The shaman shook the memory away, not wanting to remember the painful memory of the dying old man. Dahlia stood up, putting the leaves in her pouch before looking back at the path she had been walking. The sun had breached from the horizon a while ago, its soft rays of light shining through the trees.

    ¡°I guess I should get back. Check up on the others,¡± Dahlia told herself. As she moved, her eyes caught some movement between the branches.

    It was a raven, its feathers white as snow and its eyes a pale blue. It stared down at her, curious and watchful. Dahlia blinked at the sight. She focused on its uniquely pale feathers, something she had never seen before.

    The shaman stared at the interesting creature, which continued to stare for a moment before it opened its wings and flew off. The shaman didn¡¯t know what to make of it, but decided not to think about it too much as she started her walk back home.

    It had been ten days since the Siege of Yorktown, as the townsfolk had called it. Dahlia was still wearing some of her bandages, but had recovered fairly quickly. James, however, wasn¡¯t so lucky. He was in bed most of the time, still healing from his wounds and bruises. Dahlia had been treating him despite his protests. Sometimes, she would catch him trying to sneak off from bed, wanting to go out. Of course, she would always stop him, whacking his head and hands with her trusty broom handle. He would always comply, grumbling as he drank her tea and ate her stew. It was kind of fun caring for him, like taking care of a wounded animal with the same attitude.

    Dahlia wasn¡¯t sure of what to think of James, as she had initially seen him as a consequence of her actions. She had summoned him, and it was her responsibility to make sure he stayed alive. It was different now, as time went on and she had gotten to know the otherworldly man. Dahlia felt it was more natural to be by his side, as an equal more than a protector.

    Despite this, she still felt an obligation to take care of him, making sure he didn¡¯t hurt himself or get killed. This obligation had only grown stronger during their last battle, as both James and Dahlia had nearly died fighting off the marauders and that thing.

    The young woman shivered at the recollection of that abomination. She was unsure of what it was and where it had come from. James had seemed to suspect its origins, but he never spoke of it directly. Dahlia knew the experience had scarred him.

    The shaman shook the thoughts off as she reached her hut, heading inside from the cold. Seamus was up, groggily rubbing his eyes as he sat on his bedroll in the other corner. He gave Dahlia a small wave before yawning out tiredly. Dahlia waved back, her eyes looking over at James, who still slept soundly.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna go to Yorktown. See if there¡¯s any more work to be done,¡± Seamus spoke quietly, trying his best not to wake the blond man near him. Dahlia nodded, heading towards the fire pit. Seamus had been doing nothing but help with the rebuilding of the small town, telling both the shaman and James that he was making amends.

    Dahlia could understand that since the young refugee had blamed himself for the marauder¡¯s involvement and destruction of Yorktown¡¯s buildings. Parts of the town were almost destroyed during the battle, thanks to the fires set by the marauders. If it weren¡¯t for the rain, most of the town would be gone by now. Since Seamus had virtually no wounds, he had been helping rebuild for the last week.

    ¡°Don¡¯t overwork yourself,¡± Dahlia said as she knelt next to the fire pit. She wiped away some of the faded runes before using her soapstone to replace them. ¡°Get some rest when you need it,¡± she added before turning to Seamus.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be alright,¡± Seamus answered as he put on his cloak. He gave the shaman a wave before heading off without another word. Dahlia frowned, wondering if Seamus was mentally healthy. She had heard about what had happened to him, how he had killed those marauders without even realizing it. He had refused to talk about it with anyone, which worried the shaman. Dahlia decided to talk to James about it later, when they both had breakfast.

    Dahlia faced the fire pit, grabbing some firewood and placing it above the ashes. She held her hand out to the wood, taking a breath as she whispered.

    ¡°Ignition.¡±

    Ethereal runes materialized in front of the wood before immediately dispersing and engulfing the firewood in flames. She watched the flames as they crackled and burned, her eyes hypnotized as she stared. The smoldering wood then suddenly turned to burnt flesh, blackened and raw from the heat as it sizzled in the flames. Among the flesh was a lone eye that stared at her accusingly.

    Dahlia jumped, scrambling away from the fire pit. She blinked, the burning flesh now just smoldering wood that crackled softly. Dahlia¡¯s heart was beating in her ears, her breath shallow and quick as she stared at the fire. She shook her head as she stood up, clenching her shaking hands into fists. The shaman could still hear the screaming, the way the marauder¡¯s body cooked under the flames of her spell. She had never experienced that type of horror.

    Dahlia soon calmed herself down again, taking deep breaths as she inched towards the fire pit. She pushed down the memory, hoping that it would soon all go away. That one day, she could go through her tasks without being reminded of what she had done. Deep down, however, Dahlia knew that the haunting images would never leave her soul.

 B.2 Chapter 2: The Man From Earth

    James was at the lake once more, the black waters beckoning him again to submerge. James didn¡¯t want to, however, his fear gripping him as he stood in its shallow end. He couldn¡¯t find a reason, but he was afraid to fully submerge into the waters for fear he would never return.

    ¡°Do not fear the unknown, my little kvitravn¡­¡±

    A soft female voice sounded out, easing the tensions in James¡¯ body. The voice was so familiar, so distant in James¡¯ memory. James watched as a white raven glided from the heavens, landing on the slab which stood in the middle of the lake, its runes pulsating softly. The raven¡¯s blue eyes looked into James¡¯ as if it knew him.

    ¡°Do not be afraid, James¡­¡±

    The voice rang out again, with no visible source.

    ¡°Even when I am not with you, the ravens will always be there. They will look out for you. No matter where you are.¡±

    James¡¯ eyes widened as he recognized the words, as they were the same ones his mother had spoken out to him on her deathbed. Before James could speak, darkness overcame him, his dream coming to a close as he woke up.

    <hr>

    James Holter groaned as he awoke. He blinked as he tried to gather his thoughts, his strange dream still lingering in his mind before he pushed it to the back of his thoughts. He stared at the roof of the hut, unsure of how long he had slept. Hell, he was unsure of what day it was.

    ¡®How long has it been since I¡¯ve arrived here? Seven, eight days? Ugh¡­ Does this world even have a calendar?¡¯

    James slowly sat up, groggily rubbing his eyes from sleep.

    ¡®Depends if you¡¯re using the old world calendar or the new one.¡¯

    The spirit named Faust suddenly spoke, his ethereal voice filling James¡¯ mind.

    James raised an eyebrow.

    ¡®Old world? New one?¡¯

    Was the question James asked to the spirit.

    ¡®The new world calendar was the one I remember using before I died. I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s being used now,¡¯ Faust answered.

    James scratched at his scruffy beard in thought, which had grown a bit since he had been summoned to Valenfrost. Before he could ask the spirit more about the calendars, Dahlia¡¯s voice interrupted his thoughts.

    ¡°Finally awake?¡± The shaman asked, the smell of stew reaching James at the same time as her voice. James turned to Dahlia, who was stirring a pot of what looked like last night¡¯s dinner. He could feel his stomach rumble, hunger already rearing its head.

    ¡°Yeah.  Please tell me that the stew is ready,¡± James asked with a nervous chuckle.

    Dahlia laughed lightly, smiling as she grabbed a nearby bowl.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fret, here.¡± She poured the stew into the wooden bowl before handing the bowl and a spoon to James. James took the bowl carefully, like it was a fragile and expensive work of art. He looked down at its contents, seeing the herbs and stray bits of meat floating around, as well as a piece of a jagged leaf. Without hesitation, James ate spoonful after spoonful, doing his best not to spill as he ate. It didn¡¯t take long before he was done, the bowl empty and void of food.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t know what came over me,¡± James said, embarrassingly as Dahlia refilled his bowl. James was still starving, his appetite enough to eat an entire cow. Dahlia handed his bowl back, a small smile still on her lips.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be starving too if I had slept for two days straight,¡± she casually mentioned.

    James nearly choked on his stew, surprised as he looked at the shaman.

    ¡°Two days?¡± He managed out. He knew he had been sleeping longer than usual, but this was ridiculous. Dahlia nodded, pouring herself a bowl of stew. James was confused, but realization slowly dawned on him as he looked down at his fresh bowl of stew.

    ¡®I guess two spirits in one body require a lot more energy than I thought¡­¡¯ James thought as he took a spoonful of the stew.

    While they ate, James took notice of how much better his body felt since before his long slumber. He could breathe normally, without his lungs sending volts of sharp pain. His injuries didn¡¯t hurt as much, if at all. Once he finished breakfast, he stretched a bit, with no sudden pain or sore muscles plaguing his body.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Dahlia asked as she watched, curiosity on her face.

    ¡°Better. Most of my body¡¯s healed, I think,¡± James answered, rotating his arm before he slowly stood up from his cot, still only dressed in his warm wool pants. Parts of his body were still covered in bandages, but James knew that most of his wounds were healed now, somehow.

    ¡®Faust?¡¯

    James knew it had been around a week since the raid, but he wasn¡¯t sure if that was really enough time to heal naturally. The spirit must have had something to do with it.

    ¡®Don¡¯t ask me, I can¡¯t explain everything¡­¡¯ Faust responded.

    James decided it was probably not a ¡®special¡¯ healing factor and chalked it up to Dahlia¡¯s herbs and medicine. The young man looked around the hut before he grabbed a long-sleeved shirt to slip it over his bandaged torso.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Seamus?¡± He asked once he pulled down his shirt. He noticed that Dahlia¡¯s cheeks were a flushed red against her light brown skin, her amber eyes focusing on the fire. James wondered if she was too close to the fire¡¯s heat, but thought little of it.

    ¡°Oh, he went off to help the townsfolk with the rebuilding,¡± she answered, her voice cracking a little. James frowned, sitting down on the cot. He knew Seamus had constantly been helping the rebuilding, probably from the guilt of bringing the marauders to Yorktown. No one but a select few knew about Seamus¡¯ fault for the raid.

    As far as the townsfolk knew, Seamus was a stranded merchant who had washed up onto shore on a lifeboat. That was all they had to know. Otherwise, things would turn up ugly for Seamus. Regardless, the town council had suspicions about the three newcomers who had come to the island around the time the marauders did.

    Haggard had apparently arrived in town around the same time James did, which put him onto the list of suspects, along with the otherworldly man and Seamus. The problem for James, however, was that he didn¡¯t really have much of a cover story. Dahlia had told others that James was a foreign adventurer from Azurvale, but it didn¡¯t seem to do much since James knew next to nothing about the world. He didn¡¯t even know what year it was.

    James blinked, remembering his talk with Faust in the morning.

    ¡°What¡¯s the date?¡± James asked Dahlia, who perked up with curiosity.

    ¡°It¡¯s J?ntuhn. First month of Frost,¡± she answered.

    ¡°I mean the year.¡±

    Dahlia raised an eyebrow. ¡°It¡¯s the year 560 last I checked¡­ Why?¡±

    James scratched at his beard. ¡°Is that the new calendar?¡± He asked, genuinely curious about something that had crossed his mind multiple times. Dahlia raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°It¡¯s been the standard for hundreds of years. I don¡¯t even remember what year the ancient calendar is on,¡± she muttered.

    ¡®560?¡¯ Faust suddenly asked, a hint of disbelief.

    ¡®What year was it before your¡­ death¡­?¡¯ James asked carefully to the spirit.

    ¡®Have I really been dead that long?¡¯ Faust said. He didn¡¯t even seem to listen.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    James decided not to press it.

    ¡°Why do you want to know?¡± Dahlia asked before realization slowly dawned on her. ¡°Oh¡­ The spirit?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I guess he¡¯s older than we¡¯ve thought,¡± the young man answered, noting how the spirit had gone silent. ¡°I¡¯ll ask him about it later¡­ I doubt he wants to talk about it,¡± James added as he stood up again.

    ¡°Makes sense,¡± the shaman responded, placing her empty bowl to the side. ¡°So¡­ since you¡¯re feeling better, do you think you¡¯re ready to go to town?¡± Dahlia asked as she stood up again, reaching for a cloak that she hung nearby.

    James sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Dahlia was talking about the meeting James had with the town¡¯s council, who had tried multiple times to talk to him in the past week. He was bedridden then, therefore unable to talk with them. Now, however, he was up and able to move normally again. Most of his wounds healed as well. Still, James didn¡¯t look forward to it at all.

    ¡°I guess. I¡¯m still not sure if our cover story is enough to convince them,¡± James pointed out. He moved to put on a second layer of pants as protection against the bitter cold outside.

    Dahlia handed him a blue tunic, which James accepted.

    ¡°They have no reason not to believe you, especially since Haggard and I covered for you,¡± Dahlia said.

    Haggard had already met with the council, telling his side of the story. He even added some extra details to help support the cover story Dahlia had come up for the otherworldly man.

    ¡°I¡¯m still not sure they¡¯ll care about that. Don¡¯t forget, I¡¯m still a foreigner.¡± James pointed out as he slipped his tunic over his long-sleeved shirt. Being from another world had its downsides, one of them being the uncanny feeling he emanated. Everyone could feel it whenever they looked at him. James was out of place and didn¡¯t belong, regardless of whatever story or excuse he came up with.

    ¡°They don¡¯t have good reason,¡± Dahlia repeated. ¡°You¡¯re just a lost traveler, one that somehow found himself in the southern edge of Valenfrost by accident.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope that holds up,¡± James sighed. He looked around for his work boots, not spotting them anywhere. Dahlia tapped his shoulder, gesturing to the fur boots nearby.

    ¡°No Earth clothes, they¡¯re not really the best thing to wear when you¡¯re trying to convince people you¡¯re not a foreigner. Besides, most of them are still covered in blood,¡± Dahlia explained as she handed a burlap cloak to James. James looked at the cloak, frowning as he felt the material. It wasn¡¯t going to do him any favors in the freezing cold, but it would protect him from the wind, at the very least.

    Soon enough, both James and Dahlia stepped out of the hut, ready to go to the small fishing town below.

    <hr>

    The wind blew against Seamus¡¯ clothes as he worked on the ladder, his grip on the roof tightening as the ladder shook slightly.

    ¡°Need help up there?¡± One man from below asked.

    ¡°No, thanks, I¡¯m almost done anyway,¡± Seamus called back as he shook his head. He looked back at the rooftop he was working on. Seamus had been helping the owners of this building, whose roof had set aflame during the battle¡¯s conclusion. Thankfully for them, the rain had saved their home from being completely burnt to the ground, so the repairs weren¡¯t as difficult as the houses before. Seamus hammered in the last of the planks, something he had learned to do in the past week, thanks to some of the townsfolk.

    Seamus climbed down with his hammer and spare nails, giving them back to one of the men who were helping with the rebuilding. Most of Yorktown was still damaged, however, even with the efforts of most of the people in Yorktown. They had been mainly helping repair the parts of town that didn¡¯t burn down but did actually help rebuild and clean up around the area of destruction. It surprised Seamus at how much damage the battle did, even visiting the scene where James and Dahlia had fought for their lives.

    ¡®Fireball runes really are more destructive than they seem¡­¡¯

    Seamus yawned, feeling how exhausted his body felt.

    ¡°Another sleepless night?¡± Someone behind Seamus asked. Seamus turned to see Haggard, carrying lumber for the rebuilding.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ Couldn¡¯t sleep,¡± Seamus admitted. He decided not to mention the night terrors that were the cause of it all.

    Haggard chuckled, walking alongside Seamus as they headed off to the next building that needed repairs.

    ¡°Have that shaman friend of yours brew tea? The last one she gave me knocked me out well,¡± Haggard suggested. Seamus shrugged. He had tried Dahlia¡¯s tea, and they worked as intended. Still, the problem wasn¡¯t that Seamus couldn¡¯t sleep. It was that he was afraid of sleep, ever since the day after the Siege of Yorktown.

    Nightmares would await him, reminding him of the day his clan fell, whispering that he was a failure and that he would die a painful death. The terrors also called him a murderer and freak, reminding him of his actions. Seamus didn¡¯t like to sleep.

    ¡°Is something weighing on you, perhaps? Anything you want to talk about?¡± Haggard asked.

    The young man shook his head.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing¡­ really,¡± Seamus answered tiredly, waving off the problem. Haggard frowned a bit but didn¡¯t continue as they approached the next building, the roof of which had caved in.

    Haggard had been helping Seamus the last week and had at first seemed interested in Seamus¡¯ actions during the battle. Of course, Seamus didn¡¯t tell him much besides what everyone already knew. Still, Haggard had pressed the matter all last week, but Seamus always kept quiet about it. He didn¡¯t want to think about it, nor recall it at all. It was a terrifying experience and a horrible one.

    Seamus had told the storekeeper Kate that he was unconscious during the entire ordeal, that he didn¡¯t remember a thing. It was sort of the truth. Seamus had passed out, and he had virtually no control. The thing was, however, Seamus had remembered the event. Sort of. Seamus recalled bits and pieces like a shattered and fleeting dream.

    The worst part of it all, however, wasn¡¯t that he knew what he was doing. It was that he had no control over it.

    <hr>

    James shivered as he and Dahlia descended the path, his cloak flapping as the chilly winds hit him and the shaman.

    ¡°God, I hope it doesn¡¯t get colder than this,¡± James commented as he tightened his cloak. He noticed a sly smile on Dahlia¡¯s lips.

    ¡°This is definitely not the world for you if you already can¡¯t handle the first week of Frost,¡± she responded in a laugh.

    James groaned.

    ¡°Seriously? How cold does it actually get here?¡± he asked, the shaman hurrying up ahead of him as she dodged the question.

    ¡°Best not to know the answer to that,¡± she answered.

    ¡®Sometimes, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re in control¡­¡¯ Faust commented. ¡®Better that you take on the cold instead of me.¡¯

    James could swear Faust was smiling as he spoke into his mind. The young blond man raised an eyebrow.

    ¡®Can you even take control of my body anymore?¡¯ James asked, knowing that the spirit had only ever tried twice since their fusion. Both times had failed, mainly because James was more in control of his body than Faust. Despite this, Faust could still control James¡¯ body to an extent, an act that saved his life during the Siege of Yorktown.

    ¡®It¡¯s possible, perhaps, but I think it¡¯s best I stay in your head, far from the cold and the awkwardness of you and that shaman,¡¯ Faust teased. James could feel his face burn hot, hurrying up as he decided not to ask any more questions.

    Yorktown was visible up ahead, the sky above the town still a dark gray from last week. James frowned, as he could now see the aftermath of his actions from then. There were more burnt and charred buildings than actual standing ones. He could spot some of the townspeople cleaning up the cobbled streets, which were still littered with ash and burnt debris.

    The fire¡¯s spread was much more severe than what James had initially thought. He could feel a shift in the mood, a serious tone now in the air. Dahlia had slowed to a walk as James caught up, a slight frown on her face as she looked at the town ahead.

    ¡°How long do you think until the town is fully recovered?¡± James asked.

    Dahlia shrugged. ¡°Maybe weeks or months¡­ no one has come to the docks since the raid, so we¡¯re going to be on our own for a while.¡±

    As they entered the town, James looked around. He could see how some of the townspeople watched them both. James swore he spotted some malice in some of their gazes, almost as if they blamed him for this raid.

    ¡®In a way¡­ I am responsible for all of this.¡¯

    James felt a pang of guilt hitting him as he tried his best to focus on the path ahead.

    ¡°Not all of them blame you,¡± Dahlia said, noticing James¡¯ shift in mood. ¡°Some of them even say you¡¯re a hero.¡± Dahlia¡¯s words were comforting, but James knew he wasn¡¯t a hero.

    Dahlia had saved him from Havor, Seamus had taken down a group of marauders all on his own, and Haggard had saved Felix and Harald. All James did was get Thomas killed, whose death repeated in James¡¯ mind, along with Havor¡¯s.

    ¡®You also destroyed that creature, the thing that had killed Thomas,¡¯ Faust spoke out.

    James frowned.

    ¡®I guess, but I can¡¯t help but feel as if that thing was our fault. It even knew my name.¡¯

    James was more than a little freaked out by the creature back when he had first seen it. The connection he felt with it reminded him of when he and Faust merged for the first time. The pain was definitely a call back to that night. It even seemed like there was more than one soul in its head. The desperate voice that came from its throat haunted James.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°Kill me! Please¡­ I can¡¯t take it!¡± It had pleaded. ¡°The voices¡­ stop the voices, please!¡±

    ¡°What do you mean voices?¡± James had asked the thing.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m supposed to be dead! The voices brought me back, but they forced me to kill people and... eat them. I just want to die, please!¡±

    </blockquote>

    The voices had brought him back. That was what he had said to James. James shivered at the memory before burying it deep within his mind, not wanting to think about it any further. Dahlia¡¯s shoulder then gently nudged him, nearly making the young man jump as he snapped away from his thoughts. They had stopped walking, Dahlia¡¯s hand gesturing towards what looked like a longhouse, wood and stone supporting the structure.

    ¡°There¡¯s the town¡¯s hall, where the council is. Just walk in and ask for them. I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯ve waited long enough for you.¡± Dahlia patted James¡¯ shoulder, urging him to go. ¡°I¡¯ll be at the tavern while you¡¯re in there.¡±

    James grimaced at the idea of talking in front of the council, but decided that it would be better for everyone if he just got it over with.

    ¡°Any tips?¡± He asked the shaman.

    ¡°Just be respectful. Some of the council¡¯s elders can be a little¡­ Overbearing.¡± Dahlia looked as if she was recalling a memory, a hint of disdain on her expression. James sighed, deciding that he should get a move on before he backed out. He left the shaman where she stood, heading inside the longhouse through its large wooden doors.

 B.2 Chapter 3: Hearing

    Jarl Ivan Falk of the South sat back in his chair, his gaze on the two foreigners in his hall. They wore shining plate armor, courtesy of the kingdom they hailed from.

    ¡®Lumen Knights¡­¡¯

    Ivan focused the red wax seals on their chest plates. Lumen Knights weren¡¯t to be confused with their other brothers in arms, the knights who fought for the King and Azurvale. Ivan had heard stories of the superior Lumen Knights, selected orphans who were trained at a ridiculously young age and taught how to become fierce warriors for their kingdom and the goddess Delphine.

    Lumen Knights were relentless killing machines that showed no mercy to heretics and enemies of the kingdom. They were like inquisitors, but not limited by laws against political involvement.

    At least, according to the stories Ivan had heard. The leading knight standing in his hall didn¡¯t seem to fit the bill. Except for the huge two-meter tall behemoth with the halberd. Ivan could feel a sense of unease whenever he caught that one¡¯s gaze. The first knight didn¡¯t really seem like a warrior aside from his armor. He wore what looked like dark blue robes under his armor, a hood swept back to reveal his head.

    This knight had no helmet, the low glow of the longhouse revealing his pale alabaster skin and raven black hair, as well as his short stubble for a beard. He looked like he belonged in a library, not on a battlefield. Still, Ivan had to be careful with people like this, especially since the knight could very well be a formidable spellcaster.

    ¡°Hmm...¡± Ivan grumbled. He stroked his beard as he looked over at his own men, who all had their hands on their swords and axes. They were all on edge, their gazes focused on the two men in the middle of the room.

    Ivan¡¯s clan intercepted the two knights and their ship earlier that day. Instead of fighting, however, the knights had surrendered themselves, asking for an audience with Ivan himself. Despite technically outnumbering them, most of Ivan¡¯s men had seemed paranoid and nervous. Their hands were always at their weapons and their gazes never left the pair of knights.

    ¡®Something¡¯s wrong about them. I can feel it.¡¯

    ¡°State your names,¡± Jarl Ivan ordered. He watched as the normal-looking one took a step forward, a small grin on his thin lips.

    ¡°I am Gryff of House Brenwick, and my friend here is Hugo of House Ardel. We are ambassadors for his majesty.¡± The man named Gryff gave a small curtsy to Ivan.

    ¡°Ambassadors? What kind of business would ambassadors be after in these parts?¡± Ivan almost chuckled. The Lumen Kingdom had never been interested in the southern and eastern islands of Valenfrost before, and for good reason. The southern islands didn¡¯t hold many resources and were much too small for the bolstering Kingdom.

    This part of Valenfrost also proved to be a hunting ground for pirates and orcs, making it too dangerous for royal merchants to be sailing around. They simply didn¡¯t hold any value compared to the much bigger islands to the north.

    The knight smiled at Ivan, his hand reaching into his robes. Ivan¡¯s men suddenly reacted, the sound of blades unsheathing and axes being drawn filling the room. Gryff stopped his movements midway, his own companion halfway through raising that threatening halberd.

    Everyone was silent, the two knights still as statues. Ivan raised a hand, his men slowly lowering their weapons as Gryff gestured for his friend to stand down. The knight slowly and carefully pulled out a rolled piece of burnt parchment.

    ¡°Last week, my superiors caught an oddity in the ley lines, specifically near the south-eastern edge of Valenfrost. My business, our business is to investigate and eliminate any abnormalities we find,¡± Gryff stated, raising the parchment. Ivan rubbed his chin, raising an eyebrow at the official-looking document.

    ¡°I see¡­¡± Ivan didn¡¯t fully understand, but he understood enough to know what the two knights were doing here in this part of Valenfrost. Still, he didn¡¯t know why they had surrendered to his men. It could obviously be dismissed, as they probably had no interest in starting a conflict with Ivan¡¯s clan. Ivan knew better, however. He could suspend his belief in most of the rumors surrounding the Lumen Knights, but he could never deny the rumor that they were bloodthirsty enforcers.

    Most of the history of Azurvale backed it up to where it was a well-known fact. Lumen Knights had wiped out clans, insurrections, cults, and even entire cities in the name of Delphine and the Lumen Kingdom. They were no different in Valenfrost¡¯s history, especially during the Outsider Wars. Ivan had heard stories of brutal tactics used against the barbarians from the south. Their morals were just as questionable as any orc and barbarian.

    So Ivan was understandably a bit confused on why they hadn¡¯t attacked his clan outright.

    ¡°Why give yourself up this easily?¡± He asked. ¡°You could have simply killed off the men who had intercepted your ship, but you surrendered and gave yourselves up. Why?¡± Ivan sat upright, watching as Gryff swept back his black hair.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s simple, really. We are here to make you an offer. One you can¡¯t refuse,¡± Gryff said. Some men chuckled at the proposal, others blinking with surprise at the knight. Ivan was smiling with amusement, hiding his grin with his hand.

    ¡°Oh really? What would this offer be?¡± The amused Jarl asked, deciding to entertain Gryff.

    The knight chuckled at Ivan¡¯s words. He brandished a fierce grin as he looked up at the Jarl, straightening his posture as he surveyed the room.

    ¡°I know that you¡¯re not the true ruler of the south. Only a man who leads a group of ragged bandits over only a few islands as he cowers in fear from orcs and pirates,¡± Gryff called out, a shit-eating grin appearing on his face. ¡°You¡¯re a pathetic excuse for a Jarl, one that has no other choice than to bide by our rules.¡±

    Ivan blinked in surprise, unsure if he heard the asshole right. Realization set in once the Jarl saw the shocked and angry faces of his men. Ivan felt his blood boil as he stood up, anger flaring as he swiped his hand in the air, signaling his men to show this dunghead who he was talking to.

    One of his soldiers stepped up first, a bulky man well over the knight¡¯s height. He threw a right hook at Gryff, aiming at the man¡¯s exposed head. The strike never made contact. Gryff had moved frighteningly fast, dodging the attack with ease. Next thing Ivan knew, there was a loud snap echoing in the room.

    The attacking man was suddenly on his knees, screaming as he held his arm, which was bent in the wrongest of ways. Gryff didn¡¯t blink as he punched the man¡¯s throat, silencing him as another one rushed at him with a sword. The knight¡¯s companion Hugo stepped in to stop the attack, his huge gauntlet rushing to grab the swordsman by the head.

    The grabbed man tried hacking at the mountain of a man, to no avail. Hugo didn¡¯t seem to be affected by the desperate slashes. The held man screamed in pain, dropping his sword as he tried to pry the giant¡¯s fingers from his head. It would prove futile as the screams abruptly stopped, the sound of flesh squishing and bone-breaking filling the room. Hugo dropped the man¡¯s lifeless corpse, tossing him away like a rag doll.

    While that was happening, Knight Gryff was dodging the attacks of two other men. He seemed to watch their movements, his hands behind his back. It was as if he was choosing his moment. One of Ivan¡¯s men made a folly not even five seconds into their fight, his sword swing missing Gryff and hitting the ground.

    Gryff chose that moment to retaliate with a counter-attack, his boot kicking the attacker back onto the ground. The second man tried to use this opening to go for a stab against Gryff. It would be his biggest mistake.

    The knight dodged the attempted lunge before he grabbed the second attacker¡¯s arm, pulling him in so suddenly that he almost lost his balance. The spellcaster¡¯s elbow then made contact with the man¡¯s face, breaking his nose and causing him to stumble back.

    ¡°Bastard!¡±

    Gryff dodged another attack from the first man, who had just gotten back up. The knight distanced himself before he raised his hand. Blue runes appeared on his fingers as he chanted.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°Ice Lance.¡±

    A shard of ice suddenly materialized and shot forward in blinding speed, piercing through the other man¡¯s side and incapacitating him. His friend with the broken nose had barely recovered before he watched his comrade fall. The bleeding man turned back to Gryff again, only to be met with the knight¡¯s fingers, which glowed a soft blue once more.

    ¡°Ice Lance.¡±

    The lance of ice pierced through the unsuspecting man¡¯s skull, making him lurch back. His hands attempted and failed to pull the shard out before his body fell to the ground. The other man was still moving, his hand attempting to grab his fallen ax. Gryff kicked the weapon away before he stomped on his back.

    Ivan watched the whole thing in silence, along with some of the other men who had watched from a distance. He watched the knight slick back some of his hair, his cold blue eyes staring at the Jarl. None of the men around dared to oppose the two terrifying ambassadors, and Ivan didn¡¯t blame them. The Jarl swallowed his pride and fear, standing up as he stared the two men down.

    ¡°What was this offer you were speaking of?¡± he asked.

    Gryff grinned, wiping some specks of blood from his face.

    ¡°Good to see you¡¯re all taking us seriously now,¡± he chuckled, gesturing at his surroundings. ¡°The offer I present to you will be one that will benefit you greatly. It involves the islands east of here¡­ Specifically one that holds the settlement called Yorktown.¡±

    <hr>

    James wasn¡¯t sure what he had expected at his hearing. The town council consisted of three people, two of them James had never seen before. The last one he instantly recognized. Felix, the town¡¯s guardsman James had fought with at the Siege of Yorktown, sat on the far left of the long table the council members had set up. He seemed uncomfortable and out of place, like he had no business being here. James and Felix had instantly recognized each other back when the former had entered the longhouse, but both had kept from greeting each other.

    The middle-aged woman next to Felix cleared her throat, catching the otherworldly man¡¯s attention.

    ¡°James, is it?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Yes. My name is James Holter,¡± the young man acknowledged.

    ¡°James Holter¡­ When did you arrive here at Yorktown?¡± The elderly man on the far right of the table asked. James thought back to his alibi, the one he and the shaman came up with.

    ¡°I came here on a merchant ship, one I hitched a ride on with Haggard.¡± James answered. The three council members glanced at each other, sharing a look. The middle-aged woman spoke up first.

    ¡°So you¡¯re with Haggard?¡± She asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow. James could feel sweat on his forehead as he wiped his face. It was getting hot in that longhouse, possibly from the pit fire James was standing in front of. The heat radiating from it made the young man uncomfortable.

    ¡°Well¡­ not really,¡± James admitted. ¡°I was only hitching a ride on the merchant ship... Haggard just happened to be there.¡± This was the story Dahlia and Haggard had come up with. James was just a random traveler who had gotten mixed up and ended up at Yorktown on just a whim.

    ¡°What were you doing here at Yorktown?¡± The elderly man asked. James glanced at Felix, who seemed to keep his own words to himself. James was unsure if Felix would expose his alibi, since he was the only council member who knew about James'' unusual appearance. Albeit, without knowing the complete story.

    ¡°I was misdirected on my travels. I was heading to Haven, but I must¡¯ve gotten mixed up back in Vindis, since I somehow ended up here.¡± James repeated the script Dahlia had given him back at her hut and how he was supposed to act as if he was a wanderer, with no directions and no purpose. ¡°I was going to find another ship to take me back to Vindis, but then the marauders came¨C¡± James continued before the woman cut him off.

    ¡°That¡¯s when you got stabbed, correct?¡± She asked.

    James nearly flinched at her words, dread filling up his heart. That wasn¡¯t part of the alibi. James was supposed to say he was one of many witnesses, and he had simply gone to follow Dahlia and Seamus after the event. Instead, now James had to somehow explain to the council he somehow survived a fatal stab wound.

    ¡°How did you survive such an injury?¡± The elderly man added. ¡°We were told by some witnesses that you were practically dead on site, yet you came back and were healthy enough to fight off the marauders and the creature.¡±

    James swallowed the lump in his throat, nervousness settling in as he tried to search for an answer. This wasn¡¯t good, especially since any word of his revival would definitely cause nothing but trouble.

    ¡°Dahlia, the shaman, got me back from the brink of death. I don¡¯t really remember much, but she and Seamus saved me with some potions and on-hand surgery,¡± James explained. ¡°Also, I didn¡¯t really fight during the battle last week. I was assisting guardsman Thomas and the shaman with the marauders before that thing came onto the scene.¡± James held back a shiver as he thought back to that day.

    ¡°Yes¡­ let¡¯s talk about that thing,¡± the woman muttered. ¡°Who gave you the authority to burn those bodies?¡± She suddenly asked, a hint of venom in her words.

    James blinked.

    ¡°What?¡± He asked, unsure if he had heard her right.

    The woman raised an inquisitive eyebrow. ¡°Who. Gave you. Authority?¡± She asked slowly, striking a nerve within James.

    ¡°Do you have any idea how dangerous it was to leave it the way it was?¡± James shot back. ¡°It wasn¡¯t dead!¡± He thought back to that day, how he had seen the body twitch when he was being helped by Haggard and Harald. It had even crystallized, like it was entering a stage of metamorphosis.

    ¡°From what we heard, it was thoroughly dead. Hit by a Fireball spell and had its head destroyed. You also burned the bodies of Thomas Winston, Erik Catcher, his wife Marie, his brother Derrick Catcher, and the two marauders who were killed by that creature. What excuse do you have for having your allies burn the bodies?¡± The council woman prodded on.

    ¡°The bodies were¡­ doing something! Nothing dead crystallizes like that!¡± James was practically shouting in anger, unable to hold back his frustration. ¡°I was afraid that by leaving those bodies, we would risk something like that thing returning!¡± He was so sure of it, especially since he had seen those bodies. He had seen the unnatural way the skin turned black, crystals forming on their faces and disfigured limbs. It was unholy, a crime against life itself.

    ¡°Tone, Holter,¡± the woman reprimanded, shaking her finger at James. The otherworldly man clenched his fists tightly, doing his best to calm down from his outburst.

    ¡°Well, your fears seemed to be founded in something¡­ do you perhaps know more about the creature that attacked Yorktown?¡± The elderly man asked, leaning in to focus on James. James bit his tongue, trying to find something believable to say to these people. The young man couldn¡¯t reveal his connection to the creature, how he had realized it was another human under there. It would mean revealing Faust since he had only found out about it from the clashes the two minds had with the other human host and the voices that controlled said human.

    ¡°Otis,¡± Felix finally spoke up, his brown eyes looking at the older man. ¡°It could be because the creature itself was a person under some sort of disease. Dahlia, the shaman, said the thing talked. I¡¯m sure James here had heard it speak and realized that the same ¡®disease¡¯ could do the same to the bodies it had left behind.¡± Felix glanced at James, who dumbly nodded in agreement.

    ¡°Yeah, I noticed the bodies were close in resemblance to the creature. That¡¯s why I acted the way I did.¡± James quickly followed Felix¡¯s example, silently thanking the guard. He mentally reprimanded himself for not coming up with that excuse. He had instead let his emotions loose, nearly outing himself. The middle-aged woman turned to the archer, a scowl quickly forming before it disappeared as fast as it came.

    ¡°Felix Arlo, I would advise you not to make any excuses for James here,¡± she said venomously, in her polite tone.

    ¡°It¡¯s my fault,¡± James said, trying to shift the attention onto himself. ¡°I have been in recovery for a while now, and some details of that day are foggy,¡± James lied. In reality, the memories were vivid, like he had only experienced them yesterday. Still, James had no reason to let them know that, so he made the excuse that he had forgotten some things. The woman turned back to James, her eyes staring daggers at the young man.

    ¡°James Holter, do not interject yourself into this. You are already on thin ice,¡± she warned.

    James could feel his anger bubble up again, but held it back, clenching his fists.

    ¡°Understood,¡± he responded through gritted teeth.

    The woman shot another look at Felix before straightening herself in her chair. She focused on James once more. ¡°I have one more question for you, Holter. Understand that you tell me the absolute truth, otherwise face consequences for lying. Is that clear?¡±

    ¡°Crystal,¡± James responded with a hint of hostility, his eyes focusing on the council members. The woman nodded before leaning forward.

    ¡°Do you know anything about a refugee that had possibly come to Yorktown roughly around the time you arrived? Or anything involving those marauders?¡± She asked, her eyes burning onto the blond man.

    James shook his head. ¡°I know nothing about a refugee or anyone closely related to the marauders that were looking for them,¡± he responded confidently.

    ¡°Really? Are you certain?¡± Otis asked as well, raising an eyebrow.

    James could feel confusion and dread fill his heart as he noticed their looks.

    ¡°I¡¯m positive. Why?¡±

    The woman gave James a small grin as she leaned back in her chair. ¡°Because it seems like those marauders had left behind a gift. For you. It was left with a note from a man named Deimos.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 4: Thin Ice

    Felix rubbed his tired eyes as James closed the wooden doors leading into the longhouse. The strange young man had given the council his honest answer on the ship that the marauders had left behind. He had told Nora that he did not know that they had left him the ship and its cargo, along with the note. He knew none of the marauders and he had no clue why they did what they did.

    Felix himself wasn¡¯t sure if James was being honest about the entire thing, but he knew James was unaware of the ship. Still, with little knowledge to go on, they had dismissed James to speak about it in person.

    As soon as the blond man left, Otis gave a dejected sigh.

    ¡°That man is trouble,¡± the elder spoke out finally, groaning as he stretched.

    ¡°More than trouble. He¡¯s a danger to us all,¡± Nora added. She turned to stare at Felix, who was already moving to leave as well.

    ¡°Felix Arlo!¡± she called out as the guardsman stopped his path to the wooden doors. ¡°Don¡¯t think you can skimp out on your duty as a council member,¡± she said, her voice shrill and beyond annoying.

    Felix gritted his teeth. ¡°Why not? You two don¡¯t seem to care about my own opinions on the matter. Might as well be running this town on your own,¡± he shot back at the middle-aged woman, his gaze turning to meet hers.

    ¡°Don¡¯t take that tone with me unless you want to be exiled out of this town for good,¡± Nora threatened.

    Felix held back his tongue, not wanting to get into another argument with her. She was the definition of a short fuse, anything slightly annoying setting her off. He would gladly give his role up, but he had no desire to become exiled. He was the sole surviving guardsman, with the rest gone missing or dead.

    The position of council member made him responsible for defense of the town, and Felix would be damned before he let any of the other townspeople take up that responsibility. Still, Felix hated to work with Nora, especially since she ran the town like a tyrant, twisting Otis¡¯ arm to get him to agree so she would gain a majority in the council. She was a control freak and a paranoid idiot.

    ¡®How did you ever deal with her, sir?¡¯

    Felix remembered the guardsman¡¯s captain, Mansly Dell, who had previously held the role of councilman of defense.

    Said captain was probably dead, his body buried at sea along with the other town guards who had accompanied him back when they had left Yorktown to get help against the marauders. Felix knew he shouldn¡¯t be thinking of the worst, but he knew better than to think they had successfully gotten past the marauders. Even if they somehow survived, he doubted they¡¯d get to Vindis or any other town without encountering pirates or orcs.

    Felix sighed and walked back to his seat. He had his duties as a councilman and a guard. To protect this town and make sure its people didn¡¯t tear themselves apart. Besides, he knew Nora would try to exile James, or imprison him if Felix did nothing.

    ¡®Best if I try to keep this dunghead from exiling the man who had saved this town¡­¡¯

    Felix thought back to that fateful day. As much as he held a grudge against James, he couldn¡¯t deny that everyone would¡¯ve died without his interference.

    ¡®I just wish Thomas was among the ones who survived,¡¯ Felix thought as he sat down in his seat, already getting ready to deal with Nora¡¯s shit.

    <hr>

    James stared at the ship before him, which floated peacefully on the waters before him. It reminded him of those brigs he saw in textbooks and history documentaries. The black hull was marked with red symbols, most of it unreadable. There were images depicting death¡¯s skull and its long skeletal hand, which stretched out in an open grasp across the length of the hull. James looked at the runic symbols above the disturbing image, his eyes focusing on them.

    ¡°What does that say?¡± He asked. Harald, the veteran who had helped James train before the raid, stepped up next to the young man. He squinted at the symbols, rubbing his gray beard.

    ¡°It¡¯s the ship¡¯s name. Frostbite,¡± Harald answered. ¡°Written in partial godspeak.¡±

    ¡°Godspeak?¡±

    ¡°The runic symbols. Different from the ones used to cast spells,¡± the veteran explained. ¡°Ancient language, mainly used for inscribing and symbolism.¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± James responded with a mutter.

    Harald had been helping with the town¡¯s rebuilding, though differently. Instead of repairing things, Harald worked with the council to maintain order in the town. Especially since there was no functioning town guard. James wondered if there were others hired as ¡®guards¡¯, but he decided it¡¯d be best to ask another time.

    James looked back at the ship that was docked at the small harbor of Yorktown, taut ropes securing the ship to the dock. He had come here straight after leaving the longhouse, wanting to see what the council was talking about. Sure enough, there was a ship there, left behind by the marauders.

    ¡°Was there a note?¡± James asked, recalling the council woman''s words.

    Harald nodded, his hand raising to James. ¡°Thought you¡¯d asked,¡± he responded, his fingers holding a crinkled old piece of parchment. James accepted the note and unfolded the parchment.

    Someone had obviously scrawled the note in a hurry, as clear from the sloppy handwriting. There was also a noticeable rip at the top part of the parchment, right next to Deimos¡¯ signature.

    ¡°They stabbed it into the ship¡¯s hull. I¡¯m not really sure why they would leave the ship for you or what they had meant by ¡®reward.¡¯¡± Harald crossed his arms, still staring at Frostbite. James stood with him, folding the note as he tried to figure it out as well.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I¡¯m just as confused as you,¡± James muttered. Even though Deimos had already told James before the fact, James didn¡¯t take it seriously back then. It surprised him to see the ship and even shocked him that Deimos had bothered to leave a note. It all left a feeling of uneasiness in James¡¯ gut as he remembered the promise the marauder made to him.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°We will meet again, whether it be on the battlefield or on a raid. We will meet. I hope then that you¡¯ll put up a good fight.¡±

    </blockquote>

    James clenched the note and took a deep, calming breath before he pocketed the crushed parchment.

    ¡®You think he¡¯ll make good on that promise?¡¯ Faust suddenly asked, making his first ¡®appearance¡¯ in a while.

    ¡®Oh yeah. He was dead serious.¡¯

    Just like that night, back when James was stupidly throwing his life away. Back before Faust, before the constant pain, before the nightmares and that creature. James remembered the same serious tone back when Deimos had stabbed him with his sword. The marauder wasn¡¯t lying back then, and he sure as hell wasn¡¯t lying when he had spoken to James that day of the raid.

    James sighed after taking another deep breath, doing his best to calm himself down. This day hadn¡¯t been the best, especially since he had to deal with that annoying councilwoman and her ¡®concerns¡¯ about James. He had to use every bit of his willpower today to not explode in complete anger. Thankfully enough, Dahlia had been essential in teaching him how to control his emotions, especially since it seemed like Faust¡¯s spirit had been affecting them.

    James let out his breath, finally calm, as he looked over at Harald.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, let¡¯s get away from this eyesore,¡± the young man suggested, turning around to head into town. ¡°Where¡¯s Seamus, by the way?¡± James asked, looking back at Harald as he caught up to his stride.

    ¡°Should be with Haggard, fixing up some buildings around the east side of the town,¡± Harald answered. ¡°Why? Do you want to find him?¡± He asked James in a curious tone.

    ¡°Nah, just wondering.¡± James wasn¡¯t really sure if he should intrude on Seamus while he was helping. Instead, he decided to focus on something else.

    ¡°By the way¡­ Is it true you¡¯re training people to take up as town guards?¡± James had heard a while back Felix had been wanting to rebuild the town guard by training some of the townspeople for the job.

    ¡°Are you thinking about being a guard?¡± Harald asked with a surprised look on his face.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Not really.¡± James wasn¡¯t really interested in being a guard, but that didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t motivated to protect Yorktown. James was more than ready to defend this town by all means, but he would not do it under the orders of that old hag in the council.

    ¡°You think you can still train me?¡± James asked, glancing at the veteran.

    Harald looked back, a hint of a smile on his face. ¡°No problem. In fact, I have a lesson on defense coming up. How would you like to help with a demonstration?¡±

    <hr>

    While there were buildings that survived the fire from the Siege of Yorktown, one particular general store was unfortunately not among them. The store had been owned by a father and daughter, descendants of a family who had migrated to Yorktown away from Lumen territory a couple of generations ago.

    The father, Michael Rowan, had been well known in the small community, even having some stake in the council¡¯s decisions. He was also among the many who had joined the town¡¯s guard the day James Holter had fought Deimos. He had watched the young man supposedly die in front of him, but had done nothing to stop it.

    Inspired and weighed with guilt, Michael Rowan joined the town¡¯s guard. Like the many other guards, he had also joined Captain Mansly Dell on his journey to leave the town and find help against the marauders. Unfortunately, they had failed to avoid detection from the marauders. Michael Rowan had died with several others on that fateful night.

    His daughter, Kate Rowan, would¡¯ve shared the same fate if it weren¡¯t for Seamus Halvorson. The young man had saved her life, taking down four marauders who would¡¯ve killed her or worse. While Kate wasn¡¯t aware of the man¡¯s apparent breakdown, nor his mental scars from the event, she was inspired by Seamus. Not unlike her father before her. While her family¡¯s shop did burn down following the events of the battle, she had found herself a new purpose the next ten days after. Training under Harald to become a very capable guard.

    <hr>

    James fell onto his ass for the second time. He blinked, unsure if he had even seen Kate¡¯s attack coming that time. Said person¡¯s hand then appeared in front of him, which James accepted with a grimace.

    ¡°So, class, what did James fail to do?¡± Harald asked the small group of trainees nearby. One of them raised his hand, his age not being over 17 or 18. ¡°Yes, Dirk?¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t keep his stance steady enough, and because of that, Kate broke his guard,¡± the young trainee responded. The match had been decided once the young woman broke James¡¯ defense, leaving him wide open. James looked at Kate, who was resting on her side of the dirt ring.

    Kate had been nothing more than a shopkeeper a week ago, yet she somehow grew enough in strength and ability to win a fight against James.

    ¡®How did I survive against the marauders?¡¯

    James thought back to the battle. Those marauders had obviously done this sort of thing more than once and had definitely been fighting longer than Kate.

    ¡®Simple. They had underestimated you, their sense of skill was probably next to nil, and you had me and Dahlia to keep you from dying. Not to mention the many factors of that battle¡­ You simply got lucky.¡¯

    Faust¡¯s voice reminded James of the many times he had nearly died, where he had either been saved or been lucky enough to avoid his fate.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Harald¡¯s voice cut through James¡¯ idle thoughts, bringing him back as he looked over at the old veteran. Harald had taken James to the training center for the town guards, which was located east of the town, where it bordered the forest and the rest of the island. There, the veteran had James spar with his star pupil, Kate Rowan. James had put up a good fight, without the help of Faust, of course, but in the end, Kate kicked his ass. Twice.

    The defeated man looked down at his training sword, which felt much better than the traditional branch Harald had given him back at the hermit¡¯s home.

    ¡°Alright, James, are you ready for another spar with Kate?¡± Harald asked, his talk with the trainees finished. James looked at his opponent again, who was getting back up on her feet again.

    ¡°Try going on the offense this time,¡± Harald suggested before he stepped away from the ring.

    James sighed as he assumed his stance once more, his sword¡¯s tip now pointed at Kate. Just as Harald gave his go-ahead, both fighters circled each other, their grips on their weapons tightening.

    James was the first to rush, his sword moving for a stab at Kate¡¯s upper body. Kate barely deflected the blow, her body moving to dodge away from the attack as her sword came up to meet James¡¯. She stumbled a bit, but seemed to regain her balance rather quickly. James watched as she tried a counterattack, her sword slashing at him. James instinctively moved his body back, Kate¡¯s sword barely missing him.

    The young man stumbled backwards, nearly falling out of the ring before he balanced himself out. Before he could sigh a breath of relief, however, he realized his opponent was moving in for another slash. James dropped to the ground, feeling the wooden training weapon swish past his hair as he scrambled away from Kate. Once on the other side of the ring, James watched as Kate stopped herself, keeping herself from accidentally stumbling out of the ring.

    James took the chance for a counter-attack, rushing the woman with his sword. Kate realized this as she moved to take a defensive stance. James was faster, however, and reached the young woman before she could properly defend herself. In an act of desperation, Kate seemed to try a wild swing at James. Unfortunately for her, James saw it a mile away. His sword parried the obvious attack, leaving her wide open for one last attack.

    By the end of it all, Kate was on her ass, panting tiredly as James poked her with the training sword.

    ¡®Finally¡­ I won,¡¯ James thought to himself, satisfied with the outcome.

    ¡®Not really¡­ She bested you two out of three times,¡¯ Faust interjected.

    ¡®Oh fuck off, will you?¡¯ James groaned at the spirit.

    ¡°Hm, didn¡¯t expect you to win,¡± Harald commented as he rubbed his beard. ¡°It seems like you have much more promising results on the offensive side of things, but your defense is shit. Interesting.¡± Harald turned to the class, gesturing toward James and Kate. ¡°Alright,¡± he addressed the trainees. ¡°Who can tell me what Kate did wrong?¡±

    As he talked, James turned back to Kate and extended his hand towards her. Kate took it, groaning as she stood up.

    ¡°Thanks¡­¡± she responded, wiping the sweat from her forehead before she headed off to join the other trainees.

    James wondered about what Harald said to him, about his own defense being abominable compared to his offensive capabilities.

    ¡®Funny¡­¡¯ James thought idly.

    Ever since the day he had left Earth, James had a sort of knack for violence, especially after he was revived. James didn¡¯t know why he had this attraction to fighting, besides from the obvious adrenaline rush it gave him. It didn¡¯t really fit him. He had never liked violence back on Earth since it always ended up in things getting worse.

    Still, James couldn¡¯t help but remember the feeling he had when he had broken the nose of the man his ex was cheating with behind his back. The feeling had only grown stronger once he had come to Valenfrost, especially during the Siege of Yorktown.

    James shivered at the memory of that day, recalling the way his adrenaline rushed, how his wounds burned, and the way his muscles screamed as his lungs joined them. The taste of blood in his mouth. He clenched his fist, knowing full well that these were not normal thoughts. Yet he craved the feeling of battle again, for the feeling of pain and adrenaline.

    ¡®Is this¡­ normal?¡¯ He asked Faust.

    ¡®No. But I fully understand.¡¯

    <hr>

    Felix Arlo closed the wooden doors to the longhouse, sighing tiredly as he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. He had been arguing nonstop with Nora and Otis, doing his best to defend James from Nora¡¯s suspicions and paranoia.

    ¡®He saved the town and yet people like her want to outcast him. All because he¡¯s different.¡¯

    This wasn¡¯t the first time the council had argued over something so trivial. Felix himself knew a newcomer years ago who had gotten outcast from the town over a dispute he had with Nora. The council''s numbers reduced to five, then four, before finally settling on three after the raid from last week. The councilwoman had been mad with power since then. It was a miracle Felix did what he did in that longhouse, pitted against those two morons.

    ¡°I need a pint,¡± he told himself. Thankfully, the tavern was one of the few establishments that was still standing after the siege.

    As Felix walked down the cobbled pathway, he noticed two others walking ahead of him, their familiar muttering voices letting the archer know who they were.

    ¡°Seamus! Haggard!¡± he called, catching their attention. Both men turned to meet Felix¡¯s gaze, exhaustion on their faces as well.

    ¡®How long have I been in that damned longhouse?¡¯

    Felix glanced at the cloudy sky, which helped a little in terms of what the time of day was. Nonetheless, Felix focused on Seamus and Haggard.

    ¡°Have either of you seen James?¡± He asked, wondering if the blond man had met up with any of them.

    Both shook their heads.

    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t seen him all day. Though, I¡¯m sure he¡¯s with Dahlia somewhere,¡± Seamus answered.

    ¡°He¡¯s most likely with the shaman,¡± Haggard agreed. ¡°If he¡¯s not, then he¡¯s probably meeting up with that old veteran,¡± He added, brushing some stray black hair from his face.

    Felix pondered over their answers, rubbing his goatee in thought.

    ¡®I guess the tavern is where they¡¯ll probably be then¡­ or maybe the training grounds, if he really met up with Harald. Either way, James would eventually end up at the tavern.¡¯

    It was only logical, as even Harald seemed to have the urge to grab himself a drink every once in a while. Besides, Felix really needed a drink, an escape from the hellhole that the council was.

    The guard sighed, rubbing his neck as he looked at the two in front of him, who were already talking to each other.

    ¡°Again, I don¡¯t drink!¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the harm in trying?¡±

    ¡°Nothing, it¡¯s just that¨C¡±

    ¡°Then why miss out? Just have one!¡±

    ¡°For the last time¨C¡±

    They were both arguing about something Felix had no part in, but the guard still interjected.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Felix called again, breaking up their conversation. ¡°Let¡¯s quit bickering and get to the tavern. Drinks are on me,¡± he stated, shutting them both up as he walked his way to the tavern. Felix really wasn¡¯t in the mood for more arguing or bickering, as he had his fair share of it with Nora.

    ¡®I really need that drink¡­¡¯

    Felix silently hoped that Seamus and Dahlia would forgive him after today once he informed James of his upcoming exile.

 B.2 Chapter 5: Luna and Callisto

    The sky had gotten progressively darker during the training session with Harald and his small group of soon-to-be guards. James had gotten his ass handed to him by every one of them, but he adapted quickly. Despite his aching body and bandaged wounds, he learned to improve his stance and sword arm throughout the session.

    Yet even with James¡¯ significant progress, the trainees were still much more experienced and skilled. They had even developed into their own unique strategies and stances, mixing up their attacks and catching James off guard multiple times. In the end, the otherworldly man had a few new bruises and bandages, his backside numb as it can be.

    ¡®On the bright side, at least you know to roll whenever you fall¡­ soften the impact with the ground,¡¯ Faust commented amusingly.

    James sighed tiredly, not even wanting to argue with the spirit. He was currently resting, watching as Harald dismissed the trainees. Some of them expressed their thanks to James, while others waved goodbye as they left. By the time James had finished goodbyes, he and Harald were the only ones at the training grounds.

    ¡°Y¡¯know¡­¡± James groaned as he stood up, rubbing his aching backside. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to pit me against every single one of them.¡±

    Harald gave James a small smile. ¡°And you didn¡¯t have to hold back,¡± he pointed out.

    ¡°Hold back? You mean with the spirit?¡± James asked, wondering what Harald had meant.

    ¡®I have a name,¡¯ Faust reminded him in an ethereal grumble.

    Harald raised an eyebrow. ¡°Faust? No, not that.¡± He turned, gesturing towards the ring behind him. ¡°Every one of those trainees were giving their all against you. I could tell it in their eyes, but you¡­ You weren¡¯t giving your all.¡±

    James felt confused. ¡°Harald, I¡¯m pretty sure I gave it my all.¡±

    The old veteran shook his head. ¡°No, you weren¡¯t. You might not realize it, but I do. I saw a glimpse of your full capability during the spars. Every time you readied for an attack, I saw that spark of violence and potential in your eyes. Yet at the very last second, where it mattered most, you hesitated and held back. Like with Kate. You had an open chance to strike at her side, to end the fight. You instead aimed at her leg, prolonging the fight for a few minutes.

    ¡°Or Dirk, whose strike missed you, leaving him open for a quick strike at his liver, which would¡¯ve incapacitated him had you not instead backed off. Elena, her footwork was atrocious enough that even you saw the chance to sweep her, yet your kick barely had enough force to knock a toddler down. You can dismiss these examples as mere missed opportunities in the heat of the moment, but I know you saw those chances. Whether you knew it or not, you held back.¡±

    The old veteran¡¯s words surprised James. Now that he thought of it, he definitely remembered hesitating slightly whenever his opponent was vulnerable and open. James had held back and only went for the non lethal areas, avoiding most of their weak points. He blinked at this realization, looking at the veteran.

    ¡°Like Seamus, you have the potential¡­ but your conviction isn¡¯t there.¡± The veteran scowled. ¡°That¡¯s a bad habit, James. Hesitating before a vital strike is beyond dangerous. In a serious fight, it will cost you your life. Or worse.¡±

    ¡®What¡¯s worse than death? Actually¡­ I don¡¯t want to think about that.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen young men back in the war hesitate during their battles. It never ends well,¡± Harald muttered as he walked off to the town¡¯s edge, leaving James behind.

    ¡°Harald,¡± James called out, the veteran stopping at his words as the young man caught up. ¡°I¡¯ve actually been wondering about your time in the Outsider War.¡±

    ¡°What about it?¡± Harald almost snapped, his brow furrowing as he looked back at James. The young man stopped in his walk at the reaction he got. He decided to tread carefully on this topic.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been living on this island for a long time, judging from what I¡¯ve heard. I just wanted to know how someone with skills such as yours ended up here,¡± James slowly spoke, doing his best not to hit any sensitive subjects.

    Harald grunted, his eyes focused ahead as the two men walked. ¡°This island used to be a small base during the war. They stationed my troop in Yorktown. We used the island as a sort of guard post, defending it from any barbarians who tried to get past Valenfrost¡¯s borders,¡± he started.

    James listened intently, his eyes focusing on Harald as the old veteran told his story.

    ¡°Of course, as you can guess, the barbarians ignored this island. It wasn¡¯t long until our command wanted us to ditch the island in favor of a better position.¡±

    ¡°So you came back here after the war was done? Or did you retire early?¡± James asked. He knew Harald had been on the island for years. From what he could gather from his conversations with Dahlia, the veteran had been living as a hermit for as long as she could remember.

    ¡®Side question¡­ Why was he a hermit?¡¯

    James got an answer in the form of a grunt.

    ¡°I was relieved from duty. I only came here because of a friend,¡± Harald answered simply. He said it with a tone a distressed person would use whenever they would say ¡®it¡¯s nothing¡¯.

    ¡°A friend?¡¯ James asked. He mentally chastised himself for uttering that question, knowing now that it was probably too personal for the veteran.

    However, Harald didn¡¯t seem to mind the question.

    ¡°Yes¡­ a friend. He was a part of my troop, but wanted to stay here. Disobeyed orders and nearly got himself into serious trouble. Still, despite clear insubordination, they allowed him to stay.¡± He chuckled at the memory, the veteran¡¯s lips gaining a hint of a smile.

    ¡°When I was discharged, he persuaded me to come here. This fishing town in the middle of gods knows where.¡± The veteran¡¯s smile faltered a bit, his eyes focusing on something. ¡°Then again, I do quite like it here,¡± Harald admitted. ¡°It¡¯s peaceful.¡±

    James turned to see what Harald was looking at. It was the darkening sky, the gray clouds up above parting a little to show off the starry purple sky and its two moons. Two moons that had once watched over the otherworldly man back when he arrived here. The same celestials that oversaw his death. James faintly recalled what Dahlia had called them.

    Luna and Callisto, the sister moons, glowed in the purple and orange sky. If one were to allow their imagination to take hold, the two celestials faintly resembled eyes. An almost divine gaze that watched upon James and Harald¡¯s walk.

    <hr>

    Seamus watched Haggard downed a second mug of ale, a small burp escaping the bearded man¡¯s lips as he slammed the tankard down.

    ¡°C¡¯mon Seamus, just one drink! Mead, Ale, anything as long as it¡¯ll get you buzzing and going!¡± Haggard guffawed. He had been trying to get Seamus to drink, but the young man refused every time, only sticking to his cold mug of cider.

    ¡°No, thanks, Haggard, I¡¯d rather not end up drunk and destroying the furniture like you had a couple of days ago.¡± Seamus remembered the night, shivering as he recalled the drunken mess Haggard had caused.

    ¡°Damn right,¡± the tavern woman spoke up across from them, giving Haggard the stink eye. ¡°Do you have any idea how scarce we are on stools and tables? You should, since you destroyed most of them!¡±

    ¡°Hey, let¡¯s calm down a little. I told ya I¡¯ll pay you back!¡± Haggard raised his hands in defense, doing his best to ease the tension between him and the agitated bartender.

    Seamus sighed, turning his head away as he did his best to ignore their arguing. Dahlia was nearby, a couple of seats away as she sipped on her tankard of what Seamus could assume was water. She had been here long before Seamus, writing in what looked like a journal. The shaman had hidden the journal once Seamus had glimpsed it, his eyes spotting what looked like drawings and runic symbols next to some writing. He couldn¡¯t make out anything before the shaman closed it and hid from view.

    Dahlia had spoken little since Seamus, Haggard, and Felix entered the tavern. Instead, Dahlia had been focused on her journal, her hand scribbling into it. She had hid it from Seamus, doing her best to hide her writings and drawings.

    ¡®I wonder what she¡¯s hiding?¡¯

    The young man dismissed that thought as soon as it materialized in his head. He knew better than to poke around in someone else¡¯s business, especially since Dahlia was the one who helped with his alibi and even gave him refuge.

    Seamus¡¯ thoughts were cut off once he felt a strange presence in his peripherals, his eyes moving to focus on the two new patrons walking into the tavern. He dismissed his instincts and sighed a breath of relief at the sight of James and Harald. Seamus did not know why, but James had the tendency of setting off alarms in the young man, even when he wasn¡¯t looking at the blond man.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    It was the same feeling the marauders gave off, but not as severely. His father, Yorn, had called it a natural alarm. Seamus didn¡¯t know how it worked, nor why it did, but his ¡®alarm¡¯ could set off his instincts whenever they detected a danger or potential threat to Seamus.

    It was not completely foolproof since it failed to set off when he was captured by the marauder woman or when he was caught by the guards during his escape. It even went off when there was no danger to Seamus, such as with James or his own father.

    James was the unique one, however. Seamus couldn¡¯t pinpoint it, but the otherworldly man was¡­ off. Out of place. Foreign. Seamus¡¯ alarm could even detect him whenever James was out of sight. Seamus had tried to dismiss it, but something inside him bothered him constantly.

    ¡®Take him out. You have the means to do it.¡¯

    Seamus shook that voice away, forcing it down. The other voice in his head had been there since he had killed those marauders and seemed to only get worse as time went on. It sounded just like him, but much more bloodthirsty, much more violent. Seamus wasn¡¯t sure how that side of him manifested, but he sure as hel would not give into it.

    ¡®Get the hell out of my thoughts¡­ You have no place here.¡¯

    He shut it up as he looked back at his cider.

    Just as Seamus drank, he felt a hand hit his shoulder, making him choke a bit on his drink. The one responsible for the unexpected hand was none other than James, who grinned at the bewildered young man. James sat down on the stool left to Seamus, his grin faltering a little once he noticed the spilled cider.

    ¡°Ah, sorry for that,¡± he apologized, to which Seamus waved off.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright, just be a little careful next time, alright?¡± Seamus sighed. He couldn¡¯t help but smile a bit at James, who was already drinking out a tankard. Seamus noticed how Dahlia perked up at the sight of James, who in turn noticed the shaman. Both of them shifted to greet each other, which turned into talking.

    Seamus looked around the tavern. There were more people now, which wasn¡¯t strange, as Harald¡¯s class of trainees usually visited the place. The drifter, Haggard, was actually talking to one trainee, probably about fighting. That wasn¡¯t surprising, as the unusual man was fixated on such things. Harald, the veteran, was drinking nearby as well. He was speaking to a specific trainee, one Seamus knew.

    Kate Rowan soon noticed his gaze as she turned to confront him. Seamus quickly turned away, focusing on his drink as he tried to look natural. He had been avoiding the young woman since the day of that raid, doing his best not to engage in conversation with her. Kate hadn¡¯t been the type to give up, however, as she had pursued and tried to corner the young man. Lately, Seamus had been successful in these attempts, but it seemed as if tonight would be the night she would confront him.

    James had noticed this, his eyebrow raising, before he moved a stool towards Dahlia, leaving an empty seat next to poor Seamus. Seamus turned to stare daggers at James but quickly softened his expression as Kate sat in the newly vacated seat. The former shopkeeper was in her training clothes, which were old and baggy clothing that had signs of wear and tear.

    Kate herself looked as worn out and tired as her clothing, signifying her training. Seamus wasn''t sure why she joined the guard training, but he hoped it wasn''t because of him. His actions during the raid still haunted him and the thought of it inspiring Kate bothered him.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Seamus started, his meek voice barely audible throughout the tavern¡¯s noises. Kate seemed just as hesitant as Seamus to speak up, her eyes wandering at the rest of the tavern as she spoke up.

    ¡°Hey,¡± she managed back before seeming to gather up her confidence. ¡°Care to explain why you¡¯ve been avoiding me?¡± She pressed finally, to Seamus¡¯ dismay. The young man in question shrank a bit before he gathered up his own confidence.

    ¡°Well¡­ I just have been so busy with helping the town that I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t lie,¡± Kate interrupted, an annoyed tone in her words. ¡°You¡¯ve been avoiding me, hiding from me, even having your friends make excuses for you.¡±

    Seamus cringed at the accusations. They were true. He had James and Dahlia cover for him and even lie to Kate about him. Not that he had any ill feelings towards her. Seamus only wanted to forget about what happened. The smell of guts, the feeling of oily blood, and the adrenaline rush he experienced after it all. He wanted to bury the memory deep in the recesses of his mind.

    ¡°Is it because of what happened?¡± Kate sighed, brushing away a strand of brown hair as she continued. ¡°Seamus if you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t mention that day,¡± Seamus finally spoke up, his hand clenching the tankard in his hand. ¡°You can talk to me about anything else, but please¡­ Don¡¯t make me remember.¡±

    Seamus¡¯ voice was a bit more pronounced, shaky even, letting Kate know he wasn¡¯t in the right state of mind for that conversation yet. Kate seemed to get the message, her head nodding as she turned to the other side of the bar. Seamus sighed in relief, turning back to the bar as well.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for making you remember¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re fine,¡± Seamus answered back as he sipped his cider. He decided it would be best for the both of them if he stopped with his antics and habit of avoiding confrontation. Both of them sat quietly, sipping at their drinks as the tavern¡¯s patrons bolstered loudly around them.

    Seamus could still hear James and Dahlia¡¯s voices over the commotion, their argument catching the attention of Kate and a few others.

    ¡°How many times do I have to tell you? You can¡¯t just run off and train with Harald in your state! Do you have any idea how much worse your wounds could¡¯ve gotten?¡±

    ¡°C¡¯mon, it¡¯s not that bad. One day of training can¡¯t hurt.¡±

    Seamus watched in amusement as Dahlia smacked the back of James¡¯ head, continuing to berate him for not taking better precautions of his own health. Kate turned to Seamus, a similar amused look on her face.

    ¡°Your friends seem interesting,¡± she commented.

    Seamus shrugged. ¡°Yeah, I know. Still, those two saved me, so I can¡¯t complain.¡± He smiled a bit at the two, who were calming down now that James had apologized and Dahlia had lost steam.

    Kate looked back at Seamus, putting her new tankard of cider down on the bar. ¡°That¡¯s right¡­ You and that blond guy are new to Yorktown, right? Both of you got here roughly more than a week ago. Omitting what happened ten days ago, what do you think of our town?¡±

    Seamus pondered over her question, thinking back to his first day here, how he nearly starved before some random asshole nearly beat him to a pulp. Seamus also recalled the looks most of the townspeople gave to him as well, how they disliked his own presence. The same went for that annoying councilwoman, who nearly made Seamus an outcast. Seamus was about to mention these negatives to Kate but then glimpsed at the rest of the tavern.

    Haggard was currently showing off that enormous hammer he always kept on him, the trainees from Harald¡¯s class admiring the weapon. Harald himself was talking with Felix, both of their noses red with drink as they conversed. Dahlia and James were currently smiling and drinking mead together, their laughs occasionally being heard from their side of the bar.

    Seamus¡¯ grudges against the town slowly dissipated as he watched the tavern¡¯s patrons talk and laugh. His lungs released the breath he had been holding, his disdain and stress losing its steam. It was a scene he had seen before, despite this being the first time this tavern had been full since before the raid. He smiled a bit at Kate as he turned back to the bar, sipping his cold cider.

    ¡°Honestly? It reminds me a bit of home...¡±

    <hr>

    Luna and Callisto shone brightly in the partially cloudy sky of Valenfrost, snowflakes still falling down from the sky as Bron stood guard. He shivered slightly in the frosty night air, his old ripped clothes doing very little to protect him from the elements.

    ¡°They have the gall to put me out on guard duty, but can¡¯t supply me with any damn protection? Fuckin¡¯ arseholes, the lot of them.¡± Bron was more than a little pissed at his fellow bandits. The anger mainly stemmed from the fact that they¡¯ve been at sea for little more than a month, their supplies dwindling by the day.

    The ship beneath his feet rocked against the black waves again, nearly knocking the lanky elf away from his post. He steadied himself, cursing all the gods that placed him in this position. Bron then sighed, knowing full well that this was actually his own fault. He was the one who left his old crew back at Vindis for a chance to join up with a couple of bandit crews with two ships.

    They have been doing well at first, the first couple of weeks going by swimmingly before the sea stopped giving them ships to terrorize. Then, after a couple more weeks, they encountered Yorktown. They planned to raid the town, but changed their mind when they saw a Northern Marauder''s ship attacking another ship.

    They were lucky enough to avoid confrontation but were also confused on why the damn Marauders of the North were here. Bron knew well that they usually roamed the north of Valenfrost, which is why his crew had chosen the southern islands. The fact they were here meant that Bron¡¯s crew were in danger of encountering something bigger, like an Orc clan or the nearby Jarl¡¯s ships. It was only natural that something as dangerous as the marauders could beckon something greater than or equal to them.

    Bron shivered at the thoughts of leviathans or sea serpents showing up. He was afraid of the deep ocean, which wasn¡¯t an ideal fear for someone who spent days at sea. The ship rocked again, causing the elf bandit to hold on to the nearby railing.

    ¡°Damn waves,¡± he commented, gritting his teeth as he stood up straight again. The falling snowflakes had lessened in the last hour, which relieved Bron. He really hated it whenever snow piled onto the deck, making it slippery and nearly impossible to move correctly.

    Something then caught Bron¡¯s eyes in the distance. The bandit squinted and focused on the steady movement in the night. He was nervous at first, worried that a sea serpent had possibly found their longship. That terrifying thought was whisked away when he noticed a small orb of light. Upon focusing some more, he saw something peculiar.

    Two foreign ships sailed through the black waters, a candlelight spell guiding the lead vessel. The magical orb illuminated the ships and the surrounding waters, giving them visibility but at the cost of exposing them in the night. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for some ships to use them, but merchants usually avoid using magical light when traveling through dangerous waters.

    Bron¡¯s heart skipped a beat when he noticed that the rear ship had a familiar emblem. It portrayed a seven-pointed sun encased in an ornate circle, with elegant paint strokes on the hull. It was the emblem used for royal Lumen ships.

    Bron grinned. This was a merchant ship from Lumen, no doubt. It was probably heading towards Vindis to avoid paying taxes at Norum¡¯s ports. While rare, some merchants were dirt cheap when it came to expenses. It also meant cheap guards and little protection. Bron knew this well, as one of his first plunders was also a clueless Lumen ship. These vessels were easy pickings.

    The bandit crept to the hatch nearby, opening it to slip under the deck. He tried to wake up the captain of the group, who groggily told Bron to kindly fuck off. Bron eventually woke up the captain, however, informing him of the two ships he spotted.

    ¡°One of them is a royal merchant ship, I suppose. The other one is unknown,¡± Bron explained as the captain got dressed and prepared. ¡°Should we go and¡­ relieve them of their valuables?¡± He asked finally, just as the captain tightened his leather armor.

    ¡°Of course we will Bron. What bandits would we be if we didn¡¯t?¡± The captain grinned as he grabbed his ax, holstering it as he gestured for Bron to wake everyone else up.

    It didn¡¯t take long for both ships to get ready; the crew scrambling to get armed and dangerous. Their sails unfurled as they prepared themselves, both ships now pursuing the targets ahead. The black waters parted for the ships, sending sprays of salty water onto the deck.

    Bron reveled in this feeling, his heart beating in his chest as the rest of his fellow men prepared to board the first ship while their other ship came up to the second one. Bron stood next to his captain as they neared the ships, their hands on their weapons.

    ¡®This is going to be one hell of a pull,¡¯ Bron thought with a grin, just as his ship scraped against the Lumen vessel.

 Interlude: Out of Mind

    ¡°Promise me you¡¯ll return, love?¡± Diane pleaded, her soft hands holding Faust¡¯s. Both lovers have been expecting this day for a couple of weeks now, but neither were fully ready to leave each other. Faust sighed softly, his rough, callused hands giving her soft palms a gentle squeeze. The Centurion was in his armor, which was nicked and worn from years of war and mercenary work. He wore it with pride despite its rough state, as it held a sentimental value that the soldier couldn¡¯t place.

    Faust looked down at Diane, who was in her silky blue dress, her body¡¯s bountiful shape easily defined beneath the clothes. Faust brushed some of her brown curly hair away from her porcelain-like skin. She visibly blushed, her emerald eyes breaking away from his gaze.

    ¡°I always return, you know,¡± Faust pointed out. He beamed a confident grin as he recalled the many times they had stood like this.

    Diane pouted, her gemlike eyes looking back up at the Centurion. ¡°Yes, but¡­ It doesn¡¯t make it any easier for me. Every time you go, there¡¯s always the possibility of you not coming back, and that chance increases every time you leave.¡± Her hand moved to sweep some stray strands of hair away from Faust¡¯s forehead.

    Faust sighed once more. ¡°Look, the war is almost over with. Cyrus¡¯ legion has the support of the dwarves from the west, and from what I heard, this battle will be the defining factor in our victory. Without Leonard Kord, the Lumen Kingdom will have no choice but to surrender. I promise you, Diane, that this battle will be the last.¡±

    Faust was banking on the hopes that the Lumen Kingdom wouldn¡¯t pull off something stupid since they could always fight to the bitter end like idiots, but Faust doubted they would pull off something so suicidal.

    ¡°Once I¡¯m back, I will put down the sword and armor, and we can live peacefully together. I promise.¡± Faust knew Diane had always wanted a family, and he couldn¡¯t help but share that sentiment with her.

    ¡°Really? You promise?¡± Diane asked, her green eyes lighting up with excitement as her thoughtful frown turned into a giddy smile. The smaller woman leaned up on her toes, bringing Faust¡¯s lips to her own as she hooked her arms around his neck. Faust kissed back, Diane¡¯s scent of lavender overpowering his nose. He could feel his hand moving on its own, slipping underneath her dress. His hand¡¯s ¡®exploration¡¯ caused Diane to gasp a bit against his lips, her hand gently grasping at his hair.

    ¡°Faust¡­ W-Wait,¡± she panted out, gently forcing his hand away from her body. Her alabaster skin was flushed red now, but her eyes glinted with a sense of want. ¡°You¡¯re probably running late already, love,¡± she pointed out. ¡°Maybe once you get back? Give you something to look forward to?¡± Diane winked, smiling slyly as Faust chuckled.

    ¡°Dammit¡­ I¡¯ll win this war if I have to, if it means spending an eternity with you,¡± he teased.

    Diane gave Faust a soft kiss, giggling. ¡°Just do the bare minimum, my love¡­ as long as you come back to me.¡±

    <hr>

    Faust looked over the memory for the fifteenth time that week. He sighed, rubbing his eyes. He didn¡¯t feel tired in the mindscape, but the action of rubbing his eyes helped with his focus, despite it all not being physically real.

    Faust looked back at the memory in front of him, which had ended on a particular image. The beauty that was his love smiled at him, her eyes full of life and her smile warming even the coldest of hearts. Faust knew, however, that she was most definitely dead, rotting under some cemetery or family tomb. It didn¡¯t matter which.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    He initially had some hopes that it hadn¡¯t been too long since his death, but the shaman confirming the year that morning told him that his hopes of reconnecting with his love were nothing more but a lost dream. He recently discovered this memory roughly three days ago when James was still recovering.

    Faust had slowly been remembering his past life throughout the last ten days. Mainly through watching through James¡¯ eyes and going through the young man¡¯s open memories. It wasn¡¯t an ideal comparison, since both of their lives were so drastically different. Still, there were enough similarities between the two that it helped.

    Faust stood up in the mindscape, the inch-high water making ripples as he moved. He swiped his hand, making the painful memory in front of him disappear.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see if he has any new ones,¡± Faust mumbled as he focused on James¡¯ memories. The young man had caught Faust twice before, but the spirit had learned quickly how to bypass his detection. He peered through the open memories James had unprotected. They changed now and then, but very few were ever interesting. At first, James¡¯ world had fascinated Faust. The spirit spent hours watching them alone. Soon, however, he had grown bored with watching most of them.

    It seemed like James¡¯ memories were nearly all the same. He had a routine of waking up, eating, talking with a friend, going to work, coming home, and using a strange device. After that, James would then go to sleep and repeat it all the following day. Of course, they were variations, but Faust had gotten so bored that he dismissed most of them.

    Faust went through the memories, most of them focusing on interactions with his friends and colleagues, some of them involving his old lover. Faust didn¡¯t care for any of them.

    He soon stopped at a particular one, his eyebrow raising as he looked over it. This¡­ was new. The memory was fuzzy and barely comprehensible, but that wasn¡¯t the reason why Faust was so fascinated by it. The memory was similar to the ones Faust had caught a glimpse of when he was new to James¡¯ mind. Before James had locked away and repressed most of his more private memories.

    ¡°I wonder what caused him to remember this?¡± Faust questioned. He found out for himself, his eyes closing as he looked through James¡¯ vision.

    The young man in question was currently talking with the shaman. His vision blurred as he sipped at a tankard full of honeyed mead. Faust held back laughter, exiting his view. James was drunk, so it made sense some memories might become open to the spirit. But it would be wrong to peer into it, right?

    ¡°Fuck it,¡± Faust thought aloud. He was bored enough as it was, and he wasn¡¯t in the mood to look through his own again. Faust peered into the memory.

    The memory was murky, as Faust expected. James¡¯ view was focused on green grass, which swayed against the wind. He spoke softly, mumbling to himself as he played with a blade of grass. James was probably eight or nine at most, his soft voice singing in the tune of a song.

    ¡°They will shine¡­ onto tiny blades of grass¡­¡±

    Faust raised an eyebrow, swearing that he heard a similar tune before, but from where? He shook it off, watching the memory as James¡¯ mumbling turned into humming, his gaze turning to a black lake, its waters glistening in the sun.

    The memory¡¯s fuzziness and blur faded away slowly then. Faust could see how beautiful the surroundings were. Green, vibrant grass swayed all around James as snow-capped mountains stood in the distance, beyond the black lake¡¯s waters. It was serene.

    ¡°Are you ready to go back to mom?¡± a strong, gentle voice spoke out. It took little James¡¯ attention away from the lake. The view then focused on a tall man, who stood in the sun''s way, the day¡¯s light hiding his face. James¡¯ emotions carried onto Faust, who felt a sense of calm and joy coming from the memory. Yet the Centurion felt far from those feelings. The memory stopped at James¡¯ answer, who excitedly said, ¡°Yes!¡±

    Faust swallowed, his nonexistent heart beating hard. The man who was James¡¯ father was¡­ strange. The man looked wrong, out of place, like he didn¡¯t belong. Faust had never felt like this with any other memories, never with James¡¯ friends and acquaintances. This man was something else entirely, something that Faust couldn¡¯t place.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Faust asked, focusing on the man¡¯s obscured face. Whoever this man was, Faust had the feeling that he shouldn¡¯t ever find out, less he suffered the consequences. The spirit was done with peering into memories that night.

 B.2 Chapter 6: Exile

    Dahlia groaned softly as she awoke, sitting up as she looked around the unfamiliar room. Her head was killing her, a result of the drinks she had the previous night. She blinked, looking around at the foreign place.

    ¡®This isn¡¯t my home¡­. Oh, wait.¡¯

    Dahlia looked next to her, her eyes widening as she lifted the blanket. James was right there, snoring as he tossed and turned, keeping to himself on his side of the bed. Dahlia¡¯s worries were eased a bit when she noticed James was still in his full attire, boots included. She looked around the room, noticing the window to her left. She slid out of bed, realizing that she, too, was in her attire, not a single scrap of clothing missing.

    ¡®How much did I drink?¡¯

    Dahlia winced at her sudden headache. Water. She really needed water. Dahlia stumbled her way across the room, glancing at the window as she reached the door. The courtyard was visible from the window, showing that she was still at the tavern, most likely in one of the rented rooms. She opened the door, walking through the hallway and down the wooden stairs leading to the tavern¡¯s first floor.

    Upon entering the tavern, Dahlia noticed how sparse it was. The only patrons here were people having breakfast or people hungover from last night. She spotted Seamus over at a table, eating what looked like porridge. He tiredly sipped from a mug, his gaze meeting Dahlia¡¯s as she approached the young man. The shaman sat down on a nearby chair, rubbing her temple as she eyed the breakfast Seamus was having.

    ¡°Did you get us that room?¡± Dahlia asked, knowing full well she had no recollection renting out a room. Seamus nodded, sipping from his mug again, which was filled with water now that Dahlia had a better look.

    ¡°You were both drunk and unable to walk right. I didn¡¯t want you two to risk injuring yourselves on the way back to the hut,¡± he explained.

    A tavern server then suddenly came up to the table, cutting off whatever Dahlia was about to say.

    ¡°Would you like anything?¡± She asked the shaman without giving Dahlia much time to rest. Dahlia sighed, looking up at the woman. She seemed middle-aged, but her hair was visibly graying.

    ¡°Water, please...¡± Dahlia managed out, feeling her dry throat itch for thirst. The woman nodded, turning away and heading off. Dahlia looked back at Seamus, who yawned tiredly. ¡°Where¡¯d you sleep?¡± Dahlia asked suddenly, raising a tired eyebrow.

    Seamus¡¯s face reddened, the question jolting him awake. ¡°I¡­ uh¡­¡±

    Someone else suddenly interrupted their conversation by sitting down at the table. Both Dahlia and Seamus turned to see a tired Felix, who looked like he didn¡¯t get enough sleep, if at all. The guard had been present last night, and Dahlia remembered how he had noticeably glanced at James¡¯ directions. She had thought maybe he would come by to talk, but the guardsman had stayed his distance, talking with Harald instead.

    ¡°I¡­ need to talk to you both. About James,¡± Felix spoke up.

    Dahlia raised an eyebrow, her stomach churning as her exhaustion evaporated at the mention of James. Before she could inquire about what Felix meant, the server came back with her water, setting the mug down for her.

    ¡°Do you need anything else?¡± She asked Dahlia. The shaman had originally wanted breakfast but wasn¡¯t feeling for it at the moment.

    ¡°No, thanks,¡± she responded politely before the woman turned to Felix.

    ¡°Felix, dearie, would you like anything to eat or drink?¡± She asked the guard.

    ¡°No, thanks, Gladis, I¡¯m fine,¡± Felix smiled at the server, waving her off as she headed to serve the other patrons. Felix¡¯s smile soon disappeared after the woman left, his fingers rubbing his eyes.

    ¡°Felix,¡± Dahlia started, looking down at her water as she held the mug. ¡°What did you want to talk about?¡±

    Felix looked over at the shaman, a tired and hesitant look on his face. He had dark bags under his eyes, probably from all the stress and hours spent on that damned council.

    ¡°Before I tell you¡­ You both must understand that I have done my absolute best. The risks I took alone¨C¡±

    ¡°Can you please stop with the excuses?¡± Dahlia interrupted, staring at the guardsman.

    Felix blinked, but nodded. ¡°Sorry. I have to let you two know that the council has decided to exile James Holter from Yorktown.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Dahlia asked. She had expected something like this to happen, but the news still hit her like a bucket of freezing water.

    ¡°Look, I did my best! Alright? But you cannot expect me to do much against those two imbeciles in the council¡¯s seat! Even if we try to repeal it, those idiots have the power over the rest of the town. Most people here would even agree with her, especially since most of them think James is at fault for destroying the town!¡± Felix¡¯s voice was hushed and low, but his anger and disagreement were clear in his tone.

    ¡°Blame me for it,¡± Seamus¡¯ quiet voice caught their attention, making both the shaman and guard turn to the man. ¡°You can tell Nora that I was the reason, right? Make it so that James won¡¯t have to be exiled?¡±

    Felix shook his head. ¡°They¡¯ll be exiling you both. The town and council want someone to blame, and James is the perfect scapegoat. A strange foreigner from gods knows where and a ship given to him by a marauder? No, the damage is already done.¡±

    ¡°Then we kill both council members, gut them and hang them by their entrails,¡± Seamus spoke out suddenly. His voice was full of bloodlust and anger, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Dahlia stared at the young man, unsure if she heard him right. Seamus shook his head and blinked, his green eyes shifting back to normal.

    ¡°Sorry¡­ That was¡­ something else...¡± His hands were shaking suddenly, carefully grabbing the mug of water next to his porridge.

    Dahlia seriously had to talk to Seamus about his strange behavior. She turned to Felix, who was about to say something. He stopped, his eyes focusing on something behind Dahlia. The shaman turned to see what he was looking at. James was stepping down from the stairs, yawning as he wiped his eyes. His dirty blond hair was disheveled, his hand scratching at his scruffy beard as he headed towards the table.

    ¡°Hey, guys, you started breakfast without me?¡± He asked, raising an eyebrow once he noticed Felix. ¡°What¡¯s with those faces?¡±

    ¡°James,¡± Dahlia started.

    ¡°We need to talk.¡±

    <hr>

    Gryff stood at the bow of the royal ship, yawning as he watched the distant island slowly grow little by little. They had finally reached Yorktown, it seemed, to the spellcaster¡¯s relief.

    ¡°Guess you¡¯re not so useless, huh Bron?¡± He stated, his right hand grabbing the reddish hair of the elf bandit at his feet. The bandit whimpered painfully, his face covered in bruises and cuts. Gryff didn¡¯t really have to torture the poor elf since, at the first sign of pain, Bron had confessed everything the knight wanted to know. This included the elf¡¯s full name and personal fears and his admission to wetting the bed as a child.

    As for why Gryff continued to torment Bron, well¡­ The cryomancer was simply having too much fun. He really didn¡¯t want to kill him outright like his other bandit friends, since it would devoid him of any actual entertainment during this entire trip. So, Gryff kept him around, as a somewhat fucked up way of a companionship.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°You know we knew the way to Yorktown, right?¡± One man nearby pointed out. He was wearing a dark green tunic underneath leather armor, his patched-on emblem signifying him as one of Jarl Ivan¡¯s warriors. Despite the hawk emblem he wore, Gryff knew of the more commonly known name for these men. Green-tunics were what most people in the south called the warriors of the Hawk Clan.

    ¡°Just wanted to be sure. You can never know if someone might fuck up,¡± Gryff said, turning his head to the neighboring ship.

    The ship nearby, known as Talon by the name on its side, belonged to the Jarl of the South. If he could be called that. Gryff knew full well that there were other Jarls south of Valenfrost, most of them controlling their own sections of the hemisphere. Yet Jarl Ivan seemed to be the most well known among them all for some odd reason.

    ¡®Perhaps the other Jarls have much smaller clans¡­ I will look into it after this assignment, of course.¡¯

    Gryff saw Hugo on the bow of the other ship, his size repelling the other warriors on board. The cryomancer smiled at the amusing ordeal, as even a glance from the behemoth seemed to unnerve those ¡®warriors.¡¯

    Talon was a ship that Jarl Ivan had sent out, a condition that Gryff requested during ¡®negotiations¡¯. Jarl Ivan had also sent out a fifteen-man crew to assist in Gryff¡¯s assignment, to help with any encounters they might have. One such example was the encounter from last night when the elf bandit at Gryff¡¯s feet had tried to board both ships with his small crew of thieves.

    Unfortunately for them, Hugo had been itching for a fight. The monstrous man had killed every single thief on his lonesome when the bandits raided Talon¡¯s deck during the dead of night. Gryff¡¯s ship, Luna, was raided by the other ship, the one that Bron was on.

    Bron¡¯s survival resulted from dumb luck, as he tripped and knocked himself out within a few seconds of the raid. The cryomancer had only realized he was alive when he was cleaning up the bodies, which led to poor Bron being tortured the rest of that night and early morning. Bron had stopped begging for his mercy and death a while ago, which disappointed Gryff.

    ¡®Going to put him down soon at this rate. Oh well, hopefully, someone will try something at Yorktown¡­ Spice things up a little.¡¯

    Gryff looked back at Yorktown, which was slowly growing closer by the minute. It had gone from the size of his thumb to a fist sized island within the last 30 minutes, so he had no doubts he would reach the town in no time. Gryff turned back to the rest of his crew, which comprised eight royal soldiers and six of the Jarl¡¯s men. The Lumen soldiers weren¡¯t as experienced in combat as the average raider or warrior, but they were all well trained. Gryff had faith that they wouldn¡¯t fail. Otherwise, he¡¯ll make an example out of one of them.

    He turned to the town again, squinting. The settlement seemed in ruins, burnt buildings and black ash covering the ground. Still, there were people around, walking and working. Gryff turned his attention to the harbor. There were only a couple of small fishing vessels and a modest ship, a marauder¡¯s ship, its black hull and red paint making it obvious.

    ¡®Interesting¡­¡¯

    ¡°All right, everyone,¡± Gryff called out. ¡°Get ready to dock the ships at the harbor.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°What?¡±

    James was dumbfounded, his words coming out before he had time to process the information.

    ¡°The council has exiled you. There¡¯s nothing I can do, James. She¡¯s made you out to be a threat to the townspeople.¡± Felix¡¯s words were sincere, striking James with such an impact that his thought process was stunned for a solid second.

    ¡°Exile?¡± James asked, his throat dry and hoarse.

    ¡°They¡¯re going to send you off on a boat to some nearby settlement. You¡¯ll be lucky if you get there alive, since the area around there is frequented by pirates,¡± Felix explained. ¡°We can do our best to get the town on your side. It¡¯ll be difficult, but...¡±

    Felix¡¯s words turned into nonsensical mumbling now, as James¡¯ focus tuned out everything else. He remembered what he had done for this town, how he had faced Deimos alone, how he ambushed the marauders with the help of his friends, and how he had killed that thing. He had gone through so much, and this was their thanks? James suddenly stood, his emotions in control, as he turned to leave.

    James couldn¡¯t hear what Dahlia or Felix were saying, their voices distant as he walked out of the tavern. His body was heated in anger, his jaw clenched so tightly it sent sharp pains throughout his skull.

    ¡®James¡­¡¯ Faust spoke into James¡¯ mind, his voice loud and clear to the young man. ¡®Listen to me, this isn¡¯t worth the trouble, alright? You¡¯re going to make it worse, James¡­¡¯

    James wanted to shut Faust up but knew that he couldn¡¯t bring himself to do it.

    ¡®Does she know what we went through, Faust?! All the fighting and death? I fucking died defending this town! And she thinks I¡¯m a threat! I will be once I get to that longhouse!¡¯

    He could hear his friends from behind, how their voices called to him. James didn¡¯t listen as he hurried his pace, the longhouse ahead growing closer. Some people watched in confusion, others in morbid curiosity as James came up to the council¡¯s headquarters, his hands pushing the doors open.

    The freezing morning air rushed into the building, causing the candles inside to flicker as the councilmen responsible stared at James with dumbfounded expressions. They were at their fancy desk, talking before James had interrupted. The blond man stepped forward, his anger seething. He could see a crowd of people gathering around him, mixed reactions from the people as they watched James. The woman, Nora, stood from her chair, glaring at James as she did her best to seem tall and authoritative. It did not affect James in the slightest.

    ¡°Sir Holter! What is the meaning of this intrusion?¡± She called out. The mere sound of her voice was more than enough to set James off.

    ¡°You know damn well why I¡¯m here! I risked my life more than once for this town, and you people want to exile me? The hell is wrong with you?!¡± James shouted, his voice booming throughout the longhouse.

    ¡°So you found out?¡± Nora asked, shaking her head. ¡°I will let you know that we have every reason to exile you! While we have no proof of your association with the marauders, no one can deny the fact there¡¯s a connection between you and them! Not only that, but ever since you have arrived, there has been nothing but trouble! Almost all the evidence points to you!¡±

    James recoiled at the stupidness of Nora¡¯s argument. He wanted to scream at her, to tell her that her suspicions were unfounded and pointless. Before he could get a chance, though, he could hear murmuring from the crowd behind him.

    He ignored it, focusing on the other council member, Otis.

    ¡°Do you really believe her?¡± He asked, hoping to get the elderly man¡¯s attention.

    The old man hesitated for a moment, but Nora¡¯s stare made him squirm in his seat.

    ¡°Yes¡­ Of course,¡± Otis responded, not a single ounce of conviction in his voice. James furrowed his brow, looking at Nora.

    ¡°You¡¯re a goddamn control freak, aren¡¯t you? Can¡¯t be satisfied unless every single person follows your little rules. So you manipulate and threaten your way to the top. Am I in the ballpark?¡± James called Nora out, despite knowing full well she wouldn¡¯t understand that last part.

    Nora¡¯s face was twisted in anger, her face red as she breathed in to answer back. James couldn¡¯t hear what she said before a series of voices talked amongst themselves, distracting James from his argument. The townsfolk were no longer paying attention, as they were focused on something else completely.

    ¡°Who are they?¡±

    ¡°More raiders?¡±

    ¡°Are those the marauders?¡±

    ¡°No, they¡¯re wearing different colors¡­.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡±

    James¡¯ anger slowly dissipated, his expression turning to worry as he listened to the crowd.

    ¡°What the hell is happening?¡± he murmured. He could see his friends, Dahlia and Seamus, within the crowd, along with Felix and Haggard. Before James could ask them anything, the crowd suddenly parted, people scrambling away from a group of people. James had the eerie sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu, the scene before him looking way too familiar. Two men led a group through, their shining armor reflecting their surroundings. A small wax seal was on their chests, showing their emblem, which portrayed a seven-pointed sun encased in a circle.

    ¡®No,¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice rang out, a sense of dread overcoming James.

    One man was around James¡¯ height, his black hair slicked back as he smiled at the young man. The other was a behemoth, his height rivaling that of Deimos, possibly even taller. The gigantic man carried a halberd, which looked too unwieldy for any normal human to use, yet he carried it like a child¡¯s toy. Behind them were a group of armed men, some of them in green tunics and leather armor, while the others wore partial steel armor and blue sashes.

    ¡°It seems we may have intruded on something important,¡± the first man commented, walking into the longhouse as the huge man followed close behind. James swallowed, watching as the man trailed his fingers along the long table inside the building.

    ¡°Are you the leader of these people?¡± The stranger asked Nora, all the while Otis did his best to squirm away. Nora visibly took a couple of steps back, nearly tripping as she stammered.

    ¡°W-Who are you people?¡± She asked.

    The first man grinned, gesturing to his friend nearby. ¡°I am Gryff of House Brenwick, and my friend behind me is Hugo of House Ardel. We are ambassadors for his majesty.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 7: The Lumen Knights

    James watched with anticipation as the man known as Gryff did a small curtsy to Nora, his unsettling blue eyes trained on the councilwoman.

    ¡®Who are these people?¡¯ James asked Faust, unsure if he should leave or stay in the longhouse.

    ¡®Lumen Knights,¡¯ the spirit answered with what James could assume was malice.

    ¡®What kind of business do they have here?¡¯ James asked, but didn¡¯t receive an answer.

    ¡°What¡­ What are you doing here?¡± Nora asked in a shaky voice, her attitude a complete 180 compared to earlier. She was obviously terrified, her hands shaking as she slowly backed off.

    ¡°Nosy, aren¡¯t you?¡± Gryff¡¯s smile didn¡¯t falter in the least. He stood up straight, his hands moving to clasp behind his back.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll cut to the chase of the matter. Nearly two weeks ago, my superiors had detected a strange anomaly throughout the ley lines of Valenfrost.¡± Gryff strolled around the longhouse, examining the building as he spoke.

    ¡°They thought little of it until the next day, when it happened again. This time it was much¡­ much more powerful.¡± Gryff knocked over a cup, the sound of it hitting the ground surprising Nora, causing her to jump a little. ¡°It tore through the magical ley lines like a gash, specifically throughout the southern edge. According to them¡­ The place of origin was here.¡± Gryff gestured around him as if addressing the entire town.

    ¡®No¡­¡¯

    Gryff was gesturing to the entire island.

    The man¡¯s words almost made James turn pale. The dates perfectly aligned with when he was summoned to Valenfrost and when Dahlia performed the ritual to bring him back to life.

    ¡®What the fuck is happening? Did I cause this?¡¯

    James wondered to the spirit, who stayed silent as James did his best to blend into the wall behind him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Nora answered back, genuinely confused. She had every right to be, as she did not know about James¡¯ true origins or his near-death experience.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Gryff asked, stepping closer to the councilwoman. ¡°It seems like something has happened to your town recently. Can you at least tell us if you saw something strange?¡± Gryff was closing the distance between him and Nora, the councilwoman stepping back slowly as he approached closer.

    ¡°I¡­ well¡­¡± The councilwoman was stalling, her fear clearly apparent as she tried to create distance. James knew she had no idea about what had happened to Yorktown, nothing beyond the fact that marauders attacked and a strange creature had shown up.

    James remembered the abomination. Besides its appearance, the creature was all kinds of strange. It had somehow linked to James¡¯ mind during the first minutes of the raid, clashing with him and Faust. The pain was not unlike the night James was revived. Its voice had changed throughout the fight, going from a curious creature to one begging for death, showing that there was more than one mind in play. Its eye was also burning with a blue glow, something that Dahlia had mentioned was like James¡¯ own eyes back when he was revived and when he had fought the wolves.

    In a way, the thing was more similar to James and Faust. The only difference was that James and Faust had a truce the night they fused, while the creature had seemed at odds with itself. James involuntarily shivered. Would he have turned out the same if he and Faust never made peace? He hoped he would never find the answer.

    James turned to the ¡®ambassadors,¡¯ watching as Gryff came closer to the councilwoman. James gritted his teeth, stepping up as he swallowed his fear.

    ¡°Hey!¡± He called out. The man stopped, turning to look at James as if he had just noticed the young man. James realized everyone was looking at him, including the enormous man known as Hugo. James focused his view on Gryff, whose cold blue eyes locked onto his.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°I... I have information you might want,¡± James explained, clenching his fist.

    ¡°Oh?¡± Gryff asked, stepping over to the young man. ¡°What would that be?¡±

    <hr>

    Gryff stood with the man known as James, who gestured towards the marked grave. A wooden post was planted over the dirt, labeling it as a burial spot.

    ¡°This is where we buried the creature that attacked Yorktown,¡± James explained. ¡°We burned its corpse and buried the ashes here.¡±

    Gryff nodded, scratching at his stubble as he looked over at his men. He gestured for one of the green-tunics to come here.

    ¡°Start digging,¡± he ordered, gesturing at the grave and nearby shovel. The man grimaced but didn¡¯t object as he and another moved to the grave.

    ¡°Tell me more about it,¡± Gryff asked James. This young man had told him earlier about the thing that showed up approximately two days after the mysterious anomaly. He told him about how it killed a few of the people here before James himself finally killed it. Gryff wasn¡¯t sure at first if James was telling the truth, but held his suspicions until he had all the facts.

    ¡°The creature was¡­ weird. It had these crystals all over it; most of its skin was unnaturally black and purple, like it had frostbite. Its eye was glowing strangely, like it was magical or something,¡± James explained. Gryff raised an eyebrow at that. He looked over at the grave as his men dug it up.

    ¡°Anything else?¡± He asked. The cryomancer couldn¡¯t tell how, but he felt as if James was hiding more information than he let on.

    ¡°The thing talked,¡± James answered after a couple of seconds of silence. ¡°Its voice changed too, as if it changed into a completely different state of mind¡­¡±

    Gryff blinked, his eyes looking back at James, whose face was grim and serious. Before he could ask more questions, one man called out to him,

    ¡°Sir! We found the ashes.¡±

    Gryff walked up to the grave, looking down at the freshly dug hole. Sure enough, there was a bundle of cloth, opened by the men. Ashes and charred bone were visible, evidence that James wasn¡¯t lying about its existence. Gryff knelt down, spotting something within the ashes. His fingers poked through the black soot and crushed bones before finally grasping the object of interest. Gryff held up the dirtied, thumb-sized crystal, which resonated with the faint presence of magic.

    ¡®Interesting. According to James, this creature should¡¯ve been dead for a week straight. Yet its remains still hold some residue of magic. What the hel are we dealing with?¡¯

    The cryomancer stood up again, reaching for his belt¡¯s pouches, before taking out a glass vial. He dropped the crystal into the vial before closing it up. This was more troubling to Gryff than he had initially thought.

    ¡®That old Wizard was right to send us here. Who knows if it could spread.¡¯

    The thought of the potential damage suddenly brought up another question.

    Gryff turned back to James. ¡°What happened to the bodies of the creature¡¯s victims?¡± He asked, pocketing the vial. James looked hesitant, as if he didn¡¯t want to say. Gryff took a step towards the man. ¡°They had crystallized, hadn¡¯t they?¡± He asked, throwing out an educated guess. Gryff had heard of this type of magic before, a form of the cursed possession that spirits used on living mortals. Still, from what Gryff could remember from the archives, they had never brought side effects like the ones James was describing. Crystallization, frostbite, possession after death? This was something else more, something stranger. Gryff didn¡¯t wait for an answer as he gestured for Hugo to come with him.

    Both knights walked to the nearby treeline, away from James and the others.

    ¡°What is the matter?¡± Hugo asked in his deep voice, his tone bordering on curiosity.

    ¡°This is all¡­ strange. Too strange,¡± Gryff answered, rubbing his chin in thought. He had never read up on anything like this, which excited the cryomancer¡¯s curiosity. Gryff pulled out the parchment from the high Wizard who had sent them here, pointing at it. ¡°According to the old man, the gash has affected three other islands, which means we might be dealing with more than one outbreak.¡±

    They could divide the crew into two groups to explore other islands, but it would require leaving Yorktown early and burning it to the ground. They only had a month to report to the high council, so time was the essence. Gryff couldn''t care less about the lives here. His priority was finding the source of the gash and its cause.

    ¡®We can find the source but it¡¯ll take days of investigating this island to find the opening which caused it.¡¯

    There simply wasn¡¯t enough time to research the island and investigate the others. Unless¡­

    Gryff had an inkling of an idea, his eyes turning to the young man by the grave. Out of all the people here, James was one of the few who had actually had experience with this creature and disease. Technically, he was the only expert here. Gryff thought a little more about his course of action, knowing that it was stupid and possibly dangerous.

    ¡®It could save us a lot of time¡­¡¯

    Gryff to his fellow knight.

    ¡°I might have an idea,¡± he said, a hint of a grin on his lips.

    Hugo sighed. ¡°I hate it when you say that.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 8: Proposition

    Dahlia looked around the inside of the longhouse, trying her best not to make eye contact with the others at the table. Just an hour ago, she had been confused and fearful of the strange men, flashbacks of last week reminding her of why she should stay cautious.

    Yet, here they were, sitting across the long table, along with their armored escort. Dahlia looked at her side of the table, where James, Felix, Nora, and Otis sat. She did not know what was going on, as the knights had only talked with James and Nora so far. Until now.

    ¡°I¡¯ve gathered you all here to discuss a proposition,¡± the knight known as Gryff spoke up.

    ¡°Why are they here?¡± Nora asked as she gestured towards James and Dahlia. The woman in question gritted her teeth as Nora¡¯s question got on Dahlia¡¯s nerves, despite the shaman wanting to know as well.

    Gryff raised an eyebrow at the councilwoman.

    ¡°From what I understand, the shaman and James are the only ones who have actually fought and killed the creature that had attacked your town. Which is important to this discussion,¡± the knight explained before his gaze focused on the rest of the council. ¡°You are here out of courtesy and to help come up with a decision.¡±

    Dahlia blinked, wondering why the knight was bringing up the abomination from last week. Something inside told her she really didn¡¯t want to know.

    ¡°Let us get on common ground first.¡± Gryff brought out a glass vial, which contained a dirty-looking crystal, ashy and cloudy. ¡°We believe the creature that had attacked your town was linked to the anomaly caused last week.¡±

    Dahlia averted her gaze from the table as she felt a little guilt.

    ¡®Did I cause that anomaly?¡¯

    She recalled back to that night how she and Seamus were thrown back by the magical feedback of the ritual. She had never attempted such a feat before, nor was she ever sure of the consequences it might have brought.

    ¡®If I¡¯m truly responsible for all this¡­¡¯

    She held back a shudder, not finishing that thought.

    ¡°Because of this,¡± Gryff continued, tapping on the small vial, ¡°We have no doubts that something similar has happened to other islands.¡±

    Dahlia raised her head, unsure if she had heard the man right. She looked at the rest of the table, all of whom had the same expression as her.

    ¡°Wait,¡± James started, leaning into the table. ¡°You mean to tell us that there¡¯s more of those things? Plural?!¡± Dahlia heard Felix curse right next to James, saw Otis turn pale, and watched Nora stare in disbelief.

    Gryff raised a hand to calm them down. ¡°We don¡¯t know yet. All we know is the coordinates for those islands. The¡ª¡±

    Nora interrupted, standing up from her chair. ¡°Then what are you waiting for?! Why are you still here? Shouldn¡¯t you be out there, then?¡±

    The entire room fell silent at her shout, everyone¡¯s gaze now fixed on the councilwoman. One of the green-tunics stepped up, gesturing for Nora to sit down.

    ¡°Sit. Down,¡± he commanded with a clearly agitated voice. Nora tried to speak back, but the man was having none of it. ¡°It would be wise and very helpful if you would just sit down and shut the hel up.¡± Nora looked stunned but quickly did as told, her eyes downcast as she sat back down. Dahlia eyed the knight, her focus on the man¡¯s fingers, before he clenched his fist to hide them. She had seen the dangerous glint in Gryff¡¯s eyes and the cold blue glow on his fingertips.

    Gryff sighed as Nora sat down.

    ¡°The problem is that we cannot go ourselves since we cannot be spotted sailing through Valenfrost waters,¡± he continued. ¡°Doing so will surely cause conflict in the north, especially with what had happened recently with Yorn Halvorson¡¯s death and the fall of his clan. The northern clans will not be happy with royal ships sailing so near to their territory. Not to mention the target we will put on our backs for orc tribes and marauders alike.¡± Gryff leaned forward, now looking at James and Dahlia.

    ¡°You two, on the other hand, are not royals. You can travel freely through the waters with that ship you have in port. Not only that, but you two have killed one of those creatures before, so I have no doubts you can do it again.¡±

    Dahlia was feeling uneasy, her eyes passing over to James, who looked as she felt.

    ¡°What happens if we don¡¯t?¡± James asked suddenly, catching Dahlia and the knight off guard. Gryff blinked in surprise, but Dahlia could see the hint of a smile on his lips.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t, that raises the chances of those things spreading out to other settlements. It also lowers our chances of stopping it for good,¡± the knight explained. The shaman watched as James pondered over his options, his blue eyes lowering to the table as he thought.

    ¡®Is he really thinking of accepting?¡¯

    She was unsure of which answer she herself would be happy with. After a couple of seconds, which seemed like forever, James gave his answer.

    ¡°I accept your proposition.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°You did what!?¡± Seamus¡¯ surprised reaction caught James off guard, who raised his hands in defense. Before James could answer, however, Dahlia butted in.

    ¡°He¡¯s also going to take us with him, believe it or not,¡± she expressed with a hint of disbelief.

    ¡°James, do you have any idea how reckless this is?¡± Felix joined in, chastising the young man.

    James opened his mouth to speak, but even Faust interrupted him.

    ¡®Huh, no wonder there was so much free space in this head of yours¡­¡¯

    ¡°Will you all just please let me explain?¡± James finally got out, speaking to everyone, spirit and all. The four were currently outside the longhouse, right after Dahlia and Felix had dragged him out. They had told the two knights that they needed to think it over after James¡¯ supposed acceptance. Seamus had been waiting for them and was curious to find out what happened, to which Dahlia explained.

    James sighed, passing a hand through his messy hair, which had been unkempt for a while now.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°Look, I know I haven¡¯t been here long and I have no reason to care for those other islands. But I can¡¯t just let other people go through what we¡¯ve been through.¡± James had heard from Harald¡¯s description of what the bodies of Erik Catcher and his family looked like. That alone made the man shiver.

    ¡°Hell, I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯re going through worse. If I just stand here and do nothing¡­ It¡¯ll haunt me for the rest of my life,¡± James spoke honestly, his eyes moving their focus to the ground as he clenched his fist. His companions seemed to hesitate.

    ¡°I¡­ I get what you¡¯re trying to do,¡± Felix spoke. ¡°But you realize that this is no bard¡¯s tale. You will die. This is reality, James, and I can¡¯t let you go on your own.¡±

    James looked back at the guardsman, giving him a half-smile.

    ¡°Who says I¡¯m going alone? From what I heard, that guy Haggard has been itching to leave Yorktown in search of a good fight. Hell, you¡¯ve seen him in action; you know what he¡¯s capable of. Besides, I doubt those knights will need all their soldiers. I¡¯m willing to bet they¡¯ll lend us a few to help.¡±

    Felix sighed, some doubt in his eyes as he rubbed his goatee, which made him look like a musketeer. ¡°Still,¡± he mumbled, clearly on the fence.

    ¡°You know,¡± Dahlia started, looking over at James. ¡°We can always go to Vindis City, get some gear that might help. Maybe even hire some mercenaries if we have enough money compiled. I still have a hefty bag of coin from that day on the market,¡± the shaman reminded James, referencing the day he had helped Dahlia with her stock. ¡°I¡¯m also willing to bet that the marauder ship also has some valuables lying around in its cargo.¡±

    Seamus noticed the shifting opinion, his sea-green eyes darting at the group.

    ¡°Oh, come on! You¡¯re seriously not thinking of actually going with this?¡± He asked Felix.

    The guardsman sighed again, clearly conflicted.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. On one hand, it¡¯s pretty fucking stupid¡­ Then again, we could prevent those abominations from spreading through Valenfrost. From the sound of things, the latter option is looking much more tempting the more I think about it,¡± Felix admitted. The guard looked at James.

    ¡°I¡¯ll let you go on one condition,¡± he said, raising a finger. ¡°You¡¯ll have to get a navigator and a map reader. Only then will I allow you to go.¡±

    James thought over the requirements and smiled. ¡°Alright, deal.¡±

    Seamus groaned. ¡°Why did the gods pair me up with you?¡± He asked solemnly.

    Felix nodded to James and turned to the longhouse. ¡°I¡¯ll give you the day to find them. Until then, I¡¯ll be telling those knights that we¡¯re still thinking about it.¡± With that said, the guard promptly walked into the longhouse, leaving James with his friends.

    Dahlia turned to James, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Where are you going to find a navigator and a map reader?¡± She asked. ¡°The only people I can think of are the traders who come to sell us supplies, and they won¡¯t be back for another week.¡±

    James grinned at the shaman. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I have someone in mind,¡± he said reassuringly.

    <hr>

    ¡°The hell do you mean you can¡¯t do either of those?¡± James asked Harald, who scratched at his beard.

    ¡°It means I can¡¯t, dimwit,¡± the veteran answered.

    ¡°But you said you fought in the Outsider Wars. I¡¯m sure you must¡¯ve traveled on a ship pretty often, right?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t mean I was their navigator or map reader,¡± Harald shot back. ¡°I was infantry, nothing more, nothing less.¡±

    The two arguing men were currently at the training center at the edge of town, with the class of trainees sparring and exercising in the background. James groaned, realizing that finding those requirements was going to be harder than he thought.

    ¡°Well, do you know anyone who might?¡± James asked, hoping that at least one trainee might have some experience.

    Harald shook his head again. ¡°There¡¯s no one in Yorktown that I know can navigate a ship. There might be someone who can read a basic map, but I doubt they¡¯ll be useful enough to give directions.¡±

    James pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He racked his brain in thought of anyone who could help.

    ¡®Faust?¡¯ He asked.

    ¡®Don¡¯t even think about it. Like that veteran, I¡¯ve only ridden on ships as a passenger, not a navigator.¡¯

    James continued to think it over.

    ¡®Seamus? No¡­ He told me himself that he can only read maps.¡¯

    He recalled the conversation with Seamus, who had told James that he had only trained in combat back when he was in his clan, rarely ever getting the time to learn about navigating and the like. He did, however, read a lot of books during his free time, which led to him learning how to read maps as well. Still, Seamus had been hesitant to go with James, so he listed Seamus as a last resort for a map reader.

    ¡®Dahlia had also told me she had only been on a ship twice her entire life, and only for trips to Vindis City. That leaves me with¡­¡¯

    James blinked, realizing that he hadn¡¯t considered Haggard, the one who had also come to Yorktown the same day James did.

    ¡®Didn¡¯t Haggard say that he traveled through Valenfrost?¡¯

    James thought back to the few times he had met the man. Haggard had talked about wanting to spar with powerful fighters. Because of this, he had traveled throughout Valenfrost, looking for his fabled ¡®rival¡¯ until he had reached Yorktown, where he was forced to stay because of the marauders. Haggard had expressed regret for being blackout drunk the night James was killed, mainly since he didn¡¯t get to fight Deimos one on one. Currently, the man was bored out of his mind, only drinking and helping with the rebuilding.

    ¡®Come to think of it, I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll love this trip since it¡¯ll give him a reason to fight strong opponents.¡¯

    James smiled to himself, earning a look from Harald as the veteran watched his thought process.

    ¡°I think I have a guy in mind,¡± James said to Harald before heading off to the tavern.

    <hr>

    Once James had reached the tavern, he took notice of the nearby townsfolk, who all spoke in hushed tones. Although James couldn¡¯t hear what they were saying, he had no doubts that they were speaking about the newcomers. James continued his walk, entering the tavern doors. He looked around the place, which had a few more customers since morning. Most were eating, and others were socializing, while some gave the blond man dirty looks.

    ¡®Right¡­ Some of them still blame me for what happened¡­¡¯ James recalled, deciding to ignore them as he looked for Haggard. James soon spotted his target, who was drinking at the bar.

    ¡°It''s a bit early for drinking, isn¡¯t it?¡± James asked, sitting next to the man.

    Haggard shrugged, eyeing James with his light brown irises. ¡°It takes more than a couple of tankards to bring me down, my friend,¡± he answered, grinning under his trimmed beard.

    James smiled a bit at his answer, looking at the bar in front of him. ¡°You know why I¡¯m here, right?¡± James asked finally. He knew that the drunk wasn¡¯t an idiot.

    ¡°No, but I know it has something to do with those knights that had arrived earlier,¡± Haggard answered, taking a swig from his drink.

    ¡°They want me to go to some islands, investigate them,¡± James explained. ¡°They think that they¡¯re being affected and attacked by creatures like the one Dahlia and I killed.¡± Haggard turned to James, his grin still there.

    ¡°You want me to come with and kill those things with you?¡± He asked, setting down his tankard.

    ¡°Well¡­ not exactly,¡± James explained. ¡°We need someone who can navigate the ship, as well as someone who can read maps.¡±

    Haggard¡¯s grin faltered, replaced by a disappointed frown. ¡°Friend James, as much as I would enjoy fighting alongside you, I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m not the man you¡¯re looking for,¡± He sighed, rubbing his eyes.

    ¡°If I was, I would¡¯ve already left this town with that ship in the docks.¡± Haggard seemed genuinely sorry. James silently cursed to himself, realizing that the day would end soon.

    ¡®I guess I won¡¯t be able to help Valenfrost for the better¡­¡¯

    ¡°Hold up,¡± Haggard spoke up. ¡°There might be someone in Yorktown who can help.¡± Haggard pointed out, as if he had an epiphany.

    ¡°Really? Who? Can they really help?¡± James asked, genuinely curious about who the drunk man might recommend.

    ¡±Well, it depends on whether she¡¯ll be willing to help.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 9: The Prisoner

    The light inside the cell was minimal, barely enough for Helen Dunn to move around properly. The ex-marauder was reduced to sitting down next to her cot, doing nothing as she counted the minutes that went by. Something suddenly dimmed the already darkening room, catching the woman¡¯s attention.

    Helen¡¯s gaze moved to focus on the small window above her, the only source of her light. The white feathered raven was back, its unnatural blue eyes looking down at her as if in pity. Helen scowled at the creature as she stood up from her cot. Just as she was about to shoo the creature away, a door from the hallway opened.

    Light from the outside temporarily lit the hallway before it disappeared. Footsteps sounded out through the hallway, as well as what sounded like arguing.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this, James. It¡¯s ripe for disaster.¡±

    ¡°I trust Haggard. She could be of help.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine, Felix! Trust me!¡±

    Three men came into view, their silhouettes varying. One was a mountain of man, his height towering over the other two easily. Another wore a cloak around himself, but Helen could tell that he was spry and lean. The last one was somewhere in the middle. Stockier than the second man, but not as massive as the first one.

    Helen had recognized the first two. She knew them well enough, as they were the ones she had fought back during Havor¡¯s failed attack on Yorktown. She even remembered their names.

    ¡°Awake already?¡± Felix asked as he squinted through the dim light, a frown on his lips. He was the archer, the one Helen had hesitated to kill back then. It was clear in the man¡¯s eyes that he hadn¡¯t forgotten about the Fireball she had used on him.

    ¡°It has been a while.¡± Haggard, the other man, was drunk during their fight on that day, his swings nearly lopping Helen¡¯s head off during the encounter. Confusingly enough, however, the man called Haggard was the reason Helen was still breathing.

    ¡°Are you sure about this, Haggard?¡¯ Felix asked.

    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me. James is the reason we¡¯re here,¡± Haggard answered the guard before gesturing to the third man.

    Helen squinted through her poorly lit cell to examine the third man, James. He was familiar, but Helen couldn¡¯t place where she had seen him before. She then noticed his blue eyes, which shone dangerously in the low light. She nearly jumped at the eye contact, swearing that she had seen his irises shine with an otherworldly light. The other man blinked, his eyebrow raising as he leaned into the cell door.

    ¡°I remember you,¡± he said finally. ¡°You were with Deimos and Havor the day you came to Yorktown.¡±

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Helen¡¯s eyes widened as she finally remembered the man¡¯s face.

    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be dead,¡± she answered back, furrowing her brow.

    ¡°I get that a lot,¡± James answered, a hint of a grin on his face.

    ¡°What the hel do you lot want?¡± Helen asked, scowling as she crossed her arms, her eyes wandering to her window. The raven was gone, possibly scared off from the sound of the others. James was the first to speak up.

    ¡°I don¡¯t really have much time, so I¡¯m going to cut to the chase. I need a navigator to guide that ship your friends left behind. You¡¯ve been at sea longer than most people on this island, so you must have at least some experience or knowledge, right?¡± The blond man asked.

    Helen turned back to James, wondering how na?ve he had to be to assume that she had any experience navigating because of her occupation as a marauder.

    ¡®Then again, I do know how to navigate through Valenfrost¡¯s seas. Still, had he asked Havor or any of those idiot marauders, he wouldn¡¯t be so lucky¡­¡¯

    ¡°What do I get out of it?¡± She asked, knowing full well that she was not a damn charity.

    ¡°Well, what do you want?¡± James asked dumbly.

    ¡°Gods, I don¡¯t know¡­ what could I possibly want?¡± Helen sarcastically pondered before she extended her arms into the air.

    James winced. ¡°Good point.¡± He turned to Felix, who sighed.

    ¡°Look, freeing her is... Complicated. We have to consider that she can go running to the marauders for help,¡± the guard explained.

    ¡°Oh, that won¡¯t happen,¡± Helen answered. ¡°Those assholes left me for dead. Even if I wanted to go back¡ªwhich I don¡¯t¡ªthey¡¯d kill me.¡± Helen knew Deimos hated cowards who surrendered, and she had no doubts that he¡¯d kill her if she returned alive from Yorktown. ¡°Just leave me at Vindis or Bernis City, and I¡¯ll never come back here. Ever.¡± She really meant it, as she had no desire to stay at a small fishing town that posed little to no threat to her.

    Felix seemed to mull this over, his eyes closed.

    ¡°As long as you behave, I¡¯ll consider letting you free.¡±

    Helen held back a scowl. ¡°Then we have a deal.¡± She obviously didn¡¯t see it as fair, but what else choice did she have? The former marauder thought for a moment about why James needed a navigator, prompting her question.

    ¡°What do you need a navigator for? What are you even doing?¡± She asked, turning to the young man.

    James seemed to hesitate, but Felix cut in.

    ¡°We don¡¯t need to explain much to you. Just guide the ship and behave. Nothing more, nothing less. Haggard here will watch you the entire way, making sure you don¡¯t make any funny moves.¡± The guard gestured for his companions to leave, his back turning to the ex-marauder. ¡°We¡¯ll come for you tomorrow at daybreak. No funny business.¡± Felix and his group then walked off, leaving the blonde woman by her lonesome again. Strange, all strange.

    ¡®Better than rotting in here, I guess¡­¡¯

    Helen sighed and glanced back at the window. The raven was back, its blue eyes watching her. It was almost as if it was judging.

    Helen scowled.

    ¡°Piss off.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 10: Dawns Light

    2

    The Floating City

    <hr>

    James watched the horizon ahead, seeing how the distant warm light of the sun painted the dark purple sky and clouds, as well as the reflective waters of the sea. Despite its light, however, the sun hadn¡¯t made its appearance yet, still minutes away from rising from the horizon.

    James took in a breath of the freezing dawn air, his body shivering as he wrapped his linen cloak tighter. He hadn¡¯t been able to sleep well throughout the night, especially with the repeat of the same dream from before. James hadn¡¯t mentioned his strange dreams to anyone, not even Dahlia. He had initially thought the visions were nothing more than a result of poor sleep and constant stress.

    ¡®No, you knew from the beginning those dreams meant something.¡¯

    The premonitions of his death, the weird voices, and that personal dream about his mother.

    ¡®What could they mean, though? Fate? My mother? Ravens? It¡¯s all so confusing¡­¡¯

    As James contemplated, something moved in his peripheral vision. There was some movement in the trees nearby, which prompted him to turn his head up to the branches. His tired eyes spotted a conspiracy of ravens there, most of them minding their business.

    One, however, caught his attention. It was a white raven, its eyes an icy blue as it examined James with curiosity. It cocked its head before opening its wings and flying off, out of sight.

    ¡®Why does it follow you?¡¯ Faust asked. ¡®It was watching us during our recovery, and it followed you around Yorktown.¡¯

    James shrugged, his eyes moving back to the upcoming sunrise. He recalled his mother¡¯s words, the ones she had spoken during his dream and when she had been on her deathbed.

    ¡°The ravens will always be there. They will look out for you. No matter where you are.¡±

    James shivered again, but not from the cold.

    ¡®Best if we don¡¯t think about it,¡¯ he answered.

    James was currently overseeing the cliff on the small, unimpressive mountain he was summoned to back on his first night at Valenfrost. It was also the same place Dahlia, and he had spread his father¡¯s ashes, the same place where both of them had awkwardly held hands. James blushed at the memory.

    ¡®Do you think you will ever gain the courage to ask her?¡¯ Faust spoke out, an amused tone in his ethereal voice.

    James groaned. He forgot that the spirit could feel his emotions and thoughts.

    ¡®Shut the hell up,¡¯ He shot at Faust. He turned on his heels, heading back to the hut to wake up his friends.

    ¡®I¡¯ve seen the way you look at her and the way she looks back,¡¯ Faust teased some more.

    ¡®What part of shut up do you not understand?¡¯ James pulled on his thin hood, protecting himself from the snow as he grimaced.

    ¡®Let me have my fun, will you? There isn¡¯t much to do in this head in yours besides sit around and look at your past troubles with women,¡¯ Faust responded boredly. That caused James to recoil in surprise.

    ¡®Hey! What the hell, man?!¡¯

    <hr>

    Felix sighed as he looked up at the gray clouds, watching how specks of snow fell from the heavens.

    ¡°At least it¡¯s not raining,¡± he murmured to himself, remembering how the rainwater from last week froze most of the cobbled streets overnight. Felix yawned as he walked off with a rucksack in hand, wearing his woolen coat over his blue and black guard uniform.

    He had hoped that James would find capable people to take with him on his ¡®quest¡¯ but didn¡¯t expect him to bring along the marauder prisoner. He grimaced, wondering if letting her free after all of this was a good idea. Felix understandably didn¡¯t trust her words, but knew that she was possibly the only navigator who would go on this mission.

    Felix passed by the closed tavern, the small lantern out front flickering weakly. He stopped, turning his head to see Haggard fully dressed and geared as he sat outside by the front doors. He had his cape¡¯s hood up, hiding his face. Felix could still tell he was asleep, however, as he heard the telltale snores from the man.

    The guard sighed, lightly kicking the sleeping man¡¯s foot.

    ¡°Snort¨CHuh?! Who¡­?¡±

    The dazed man jumped, his head swiveling to look around his surroundings.

    ¡°Oh, Felix!¡± Haggard¡¯s expression turned into an excited one as he stood up, towering over Felix by 15 centimeters. Felix looked up at the now awake Haggard, the hood from his cape falling back as he stood up to greet Felix, showcasing his tied-up black hair.

    ¡°Is James all ready? Everything is prepared, yes?¡± Haggard asked, like a kid ready to go out for a day at the market.

    Felix shook his head. ¡°No, I assume he¡¯s still gathering Dahlia and Seamus. You and I are going to head to the jail cells to grab the marauder.¡± Felix raised the rucksack he was carrying in his right hand. ¡°This is the gear I¡¯ll be lending to her for the trip.¡± Felix had packed the marauder¡¯s old leather armor and clothes since he didn¡¯t feel like lending her any of the guard¡¯s gear or clothes.

    Haggard examined the rucksack, raising an eyebrow. ¡°It looks tiny¡­ Are you sure you packed her spear and shield?¡± He asked.

    Felix blinked, confused at Haggard. ¡°I¡¯m not going to give her back her weapons, Haggard! It¡¯s bad enough I¡¯m giving her back her armor, but now you want to give her a weapon?¡± He couldn¡¯t believe this man, even after everything.

    ¡°What?¡± Haggard asked. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with giving her the means of defending herself?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m having you guard her!¡±

    ¡°Well, what if I¡¯m not around?¡±

    ¡°Stop making excuses, Haggard. I know you just want to spar with her.¡±

    ¡°Just once!¡±

    ¡°The answer is no!¡±

    The two continue to argue on their way to the cells, both sides adamantly making excuses and reasons all the way to the marauder¡¯s cell.

    ¡°Just shut it, alright? The answer is no and will always be no.¡± Felix ended the conversation, shutting Haggard up as he turned to the marauder. Helen was sitting by her cot, wearing her rags as she stared at the two with what looked like an amused look. Felix couldn¡¯t tell through the darkness of the cell, the light of dawn barely reaching the small window. Still, he didn¡¯t care.

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    ¡°Stay where you are,¡± he ordered.

    The marauder sighed and raised her hands in surrender.

    Felix reached for his cell keys, feeling for the one to open this cell. After some fidgeting and sorting, the guardsman opened the cell door, which creaked and groaned with age. He tossed the rucksack into the cell before quickly shutting the door, locking it in place.

    ¡°There are shackles in there, along with your clothes and armor. Equip those and stay by the wall until we come in and get you,¡± he called out to the prisoner. The woman in the cell sat up on her cot, her gaze moving to the rucksack Felix threw.

    Helen slowly moved to the bag, cautiously opening it. Her blue eyes examined the contents before she looked back up at the two men.

    ¡°You think you can give me some privacy?¡± she asked.

    Haggard immediately turned around, but Felix stood his ground.

    ¡°I¡¯m not letting you out of my sight until you¡¯re gone, marauder,¡± the guard responded coldly. He knew better than to turn his back on her. Chivalry be damned. Helen shrugged, a small grin on her lips.

    ¡°Careful, aren¡¯t you?¡± She commented as she moved to stand. She changed out of her rags and into her clothes and armor, her gaze on the guardsman. Felix watched through the entire thing, his hand feeling for the short sword he kept on his side. He wouldn¡¯t hesitate to end her if she tried anything.

    <hr>

    Dahlia sighed as she walked down the slope¡¯s path, Seamus cursing the cold right next to her as he carried his rucksack. The shaman felt a little bad for having Seamus join them on their upcoming trip since the young man had been vocally against the idea.

    Still, Seamus had reluctantly agreed to being their map reader. Dahlia looked behind her to see James right behind them, seemingly in thought, as his blue eyes gazed up at the sky.

    Dahlia recalled that three days ago, the young man barely had enough energy to walk for over ten minutes without tiring himself or reopening one of his wounds. Yet here he was, tall and stoic as he walked down the slope, a small smile on his face. A frown then replaced it as he shivered.

    ¡°God, it¡¯s fucking cold,¡± he cursed aloud, causing Dahlia to stifle a small laugh.

    James¡¯ dark blue tunic was visible underneath his leather armor, one piece of gear Felix had given to him the day of the raid. There was also the short sword James had been holding onto since his fateful day at Yorktown. Wrapped in cloth and tied to James¡¯ belt, the blade swung from side to side.

    Dahlia could also spot the round shield James had strapped behind his back and over his cloak. It was the same shield he had taken from Havor during their fight. The memory of that event brought shivers to Dahlia. The smell of burning flesh permeated her nostrils, almost making her sick. She shook it away, burying the memory as she focused on what was ahead.

    ¡®Just don¡¯t think about it,¡¯ She thought to herself, taking a deep breath of the frigid air.

    The trio soon arrived at Yorktown, the sun¡¯s light now washing over the rooftops of the surviving buildings of the small town. The sight of the ashy ground and burnt buildings was grim, reminding the group of the dangers they had all endured.

    Dahlia turned to her friends, whose faces were like hers. Seamus¡¯ complaining had died down immediately once they had entered the town, his eyes staring at the wreckage.

    ¡°It never gets easier to see this damage,¡± Seamus commented.

    Dahlia noticed that James¡¯ stoic expression had faltered, his gaze on the burnt buildings.

    ¡°Never again,¡± he murmured, his voice barely audible to the shaman. The three soon moved on from the sight, silent as the freezing wind.

    As they arrived at the harbor, the Lumen Knights were waiting for them with Felix, Haggard, a marauder woman, and two men in green tunics. Gryff turned his head to the three, apparently in the middle of a conversation with Felix.

    ¡°I see you¡¯ve all gotten yourselves ready,¡± he commented. ¡°I hope you all understand the importance of this journey.¡± The knight turned to the men in green tunics, making a gesture with his head. The men seemed to hesitate, but did their job moving to the marauder ship called Frostbite.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be sending those two with you to keep watch and assist,¡± Gryff explained before he turned to James, stepping up to the young man. Dahlia could feel the air tense up as the spellcaster got closer, his hand reaching into his belt. Gryff then produced a small leather pouch, handing it to James.

    ¡°Those are sample vials. Collect any organic material or strange objects relating to that thing you killed. Crystals, skin, blood, anything that seems strange or unnatural. Just collect it and burn the bodies,¡± the knight explained. James nodded at the instructions, his hand taking the pouch from Gryff.

    Dahlia watched as the spellcaster made eye contact with her, his ice-blue eyes staring into hers. Dahlia wasn¡¯t a people person, nor could she really read people well, but the look of cold-bloodedness in those vacant windows nearly made her recoil in surprise. She blinked, unsure of what to make of the brief interaction as the knight walked off to his companion.

    ¡®What kind of man is he?¡¯

    Dahlia shook off those feelings, her gaze moving to James as he walked up to Felix and Haggard, probably to ask about the marauder. Dahlia was about to join into the conversation, but noticed movement at the edge of her vision. She turned, seeing how someone ran from the town, panting as they reached the harbor.

    Dahlia recognized the young woman known as Kate Rowan, whose breath came out in puffs of steam. She stopped at Seamus, catching her breath as the young man moved in to help her stand straight. Dahlia watched from a distance, smiling a little as she watched them talk inaudibly, Kate laughing a bit as she pulled out something from her belt. It was a sword, sheathed in a fine scabbard and glinting in the sparse morning light.

    Seamus seemed to stare at the blade for a while, partially unsheathing it before he swapped it out with his other much more beaten down sword. Kate gladly took the worn-out blade, saying something to the young man. Seamus was visibly smiling for the first time in what seemed like forever. Dahlia watched with a smile of her own, seeing how the young woman said her farewells before heading off into Yorktown.

    Dahlia stepped up to the young man, failing to hide her amused look as she watched Kate ran off.

    ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d say she liked you, Seamus Halvorson.¡±

    The young man jumped at the sound of his full name, his head swiveling to make sure no one heard it.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t ¡®like¡¯ me. She¡¯s just thankful for what I did,¡± Seamus explained.

    ¡°I heard from a reliable source that you two had spent the night together a couple of nights ago.¡± Dahlia pointed out, recalling what Haggard had told her.

    Seamus reddened suddenly. ¡°I was unfit to go back to the hut that night! Kate lent me her home near the tavern to sleep at, since one room in the tavern was occupied.¡± The young man added a bit of an accusatory tone at those last words, causing the shaman to raise an eyebrow.

    ¡°Dahlia! Seamus! Let¡¯s get going!¡± James called out to Dahlia and Seamus, making them turn back. They saw the otherworldly man, the marauder, and Haggard heading towards Frostbite. Dahlia sighed, heading her way to the ship as she carried her rucksack.

    ¡°You planned our destination, right?¡± She asked Seamus, who nodded.

    ¡°Yes, we¡¯ll be heading for Vindis first. See if we can get ourselves a crew to manage the ship while we explore the islands.¡± He reached for his belt with his free hand, his other carrying his rucksack. Seamus pulled out the map parchment. ¡°This is a map knight Gryff made for me. He marked the coordinates we will need to head towards.¡± Seamus¡¯ voice sounded a bit worried as he stared at the folded parchment.

    Dahlia raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± She asked, just as they reached the ship.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± Seamus simply answered before he handed his rucksack to Haggard, who was already on deck.

    Soon enough, everyone was on Frostbite, including the two men Gryff had provided. Seamus headed over to the marauder woman, talking to her and Haggard as he pulled out his map.

    ¡®So that¡¯s our navigator.¡¯

    Dahlia watched how Helen examined the map before she gestured at Haggard and Seamus to the hatch nearby.

    ¡°There should be a map table beneath the deck.¡± The shaman heard her say, before Haggard escorted her, with Seamus following close behind. Dahlia turned to James, who seemed a little nervous.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± She asked. James turned to her, nodding.

    ¡°Just nerves,¡± he answered, giving Dahlia a reassuring smile.

    After some time, Helen emerged from the deck with Haggard and Seamus, carrying what looked like a compass in hand as she spoke a little louder.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get moving, shall we?¡±

    Before long, Dahlia felt the deck below her shift idly. Everyone moved to lower the sails and raise the anchor, the movements making her knees a little wobbly as she kept her balance. She hadn¡¯t been at sea in so long, so it was some getting used to. Unfortunately for James, it seemed as if he had never been on a ship in his entire life, his hands grasping for dear life as he kept his balance. Still, the man kept his composure as the ship sailed.

    The distant sunrise shone onto the black sails as it billowed and flapped underneath the freezing wind of Valenfrost. Dahlia looked out onto the sea, the sun¡¯s light reflecting beautifully on the black waters. It was almost as if there was no danger out here, despite the marauders and leviathans that lurked in the seas of Valenfrost.

    Dahlia turned back to her hometown, seeing how Felix waved from afar, the knights behind him turning their backs to head into the town. The shaman couldn¡¯t help but wave back. She watched as Yorktown slowly grew distant over the next hour before it finally winked out into the horizon.

 B.2 Chapter 11: Sea Legs

    James could feel his stomach lurching as he did his best to keep his balance, his hands gripping onto where the ship¡¯s mast was.

    ¡®God, this feels weird.¡¯

    James could feel the deck sway a bit as the ship sailed. He looked over at everyone else on the ship, wondering if they were feeling the same way. Seamus was currently with Haggard and the marauder, Helen. James could spot the map Seamus was holding, tucking into his belt as Helen ordered for one stranger to get to steer while the other helped Seamus with the sails.

    ¡®Quite ironic,¡¯ Faust spoke into James¡¯ head. ¡®The one in shackles is the one who bosses everyone around.¡¯

    James would¡¯ve chuckled at the remark if it wasn¡¯t for the fact that his breakfast was begging to be freed upon the sea¡¯s waves. None of the others seem to be in the same state as James, the closest being Dahlia, but she had recovered after an hour of the constant moving. James had tried to stand up straight, but it felt as if he was going to fall over the shifting deck. He tried again, but immediately felt his body lurch forward, his balance gone. James clutched onto the mast again, shutting his eyes as he tried to get used to the movements.

    ¡®How the hell do you get used to this?¡¯

    James did his best to hold himself together before looking over at others on deck. He caught a couple of weird looks from Helen and the other men, which he responded by waving at them.

    ¡°You really never been on a ship before, huh?¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice caught James¡¯ attention, his head turning up to the shaman. He had slid down the mast to sit on the deck, his hand still gripping for dear life.

    ¡°No, first time,¡± James nervously laughed, the deck shifting again underneath him.

    ¡°Yeah, the first time is always rough. You¡¯ll get used to it.¡± Dahlia reached down and extended her hand to James, who accepted it slowly. ¡°Buuut, you will not get used to it any sooner if you continue to hold on to that mast as if your life depended on it.¡± She grinned at James, pulling him up onto his feet. James instinctively placed his hand on the mast, holding back every urge to hug it. The deck lurched again, his legs shaking as he tried to keep his center of mass balanced.

    ¡°There you go. Just take it slow,¡± Dahlia instructed, James following as he took a step.

    ¡®God, this is embarrassing,¡¯ James commented in his head, realizing that he was being taught like a child.

    ¡®Hey, she¡¯s not the one who¡¯s walking like a drunk toddler,¡¯ Faust pointed out in amusement. James groaned internally but didn¡¯t argue with the spirit.

    It didn¡¯t take long before James finally got his footing, his balance still a little off, but he wasn¡¯t actively trying to shift his weight too much. James sighed, feeling how the ship rocked against the waves.

    ¡°Does it usually move around this much?¡± He asked the shaman, who shrugged.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t been at sea long enough to tell,¡± Dahlia answered. James scratched at his beard in thought as he felt a spray of frigid sea water speckle all over his face and cloak, making him instinctively spit out the salty water.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± James groaned, wiping his face. This was going to take some time to get used to.

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    The sun soon rose higher, its light slowly being covered by the gray clouds that inhabited the sky. James was resting on a tied-down crate, his hands holding him in place as the ship sailed. Everyone else seemed to be busy with either adjusting the sails or steering the ship. Helen and Haggard were at the wheel, navigating the steerer as Helen watched her compass.

    ¡°How long until we get to Vindis?¡± James asked the shaman, who was at the railing nearby, watching the waves.

    ¡°Depends, really. Vindis is a floating city, so it moves around a bit. I¡¯d say,¡± the shaman cupped her chin in thought before answering, ¡°around four hours to a couple days, at most,¡± she answered, shrugging. James wasn¡¯t sure if he heard Dahlia right.

    ¡°What? What kind of guess is that?¡± He asked, understandably confused. Dahlia raised an eyebrow as if James had told a terrible joke.

    ¡°James, I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve fully comprehended how big Valenfrost is. Valenfrost is huge.¡± The shaman raised her hands, spreading her arms wide as if to show scale. ¡°I mean, it could be its own continent if it wasn¡¯t for all this ocean in the way. I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s bigger than some continents, actually¡­ Like Areno or Kasan,¡± she mentioned nonchalantly. James raised a confused eyebrow.

    ¡°You know I don¡¯t have a clue of what those places are, right?¡± He asked.

    Dahlia stifled a laugh. ¡°Yes, I forgot. Sorry, sometimes you act so natural here it¡¯s hard to remember that you came from an entirely different world. You really fit in this world. Despite your weird wording and strangeness.¡±

    ¡°You still haven¡¯t told me much of this world besides Yorktown, Norum, and the Lumen Kingdom,¡± James pointed out.

    ¡°Well, what do you want to know?¡± Dahlia asked. James thought the question over, wondering about some questions he had in the past.

    ¡°Let¡¯s start with the other continents. You and Seamus have mentioned a couple of them but never really delved into them,¡± he finally asked.

    Dahlia listened and nodded, looking up at the black sails in thought. ¡°Well, let¡¯s start with the closest one. Azurvale. The entire continent is west of Valenfrost, bordering near Norum and the black sea. The Lumen Kingdom rules the northern and eastern coast of the continent, not to mention a good chunk of the mainland. They used to rule a lot more ground centuries ago, but the rise of Cyrus¡¯ Legion and the Kingdom of Steryos pushed them back ages ago. I don¡¯t recall who rules the western part of Azurvale currently, but I hear rumors it¡¯s mainly controlled by a republic nowadays.¡±

    James could feel Faust shift in his body, his voice coming up in his mind.

    ¡®Ask her what happened to Cyrus¡¯ Legion,¡¯ Faust demanded, his sudden energy surprising James. James wanted to ask why, but decided against it. If this was going to restore any sense of memory into Faust, James wasn¡¯t going to object.

    ¡°What was Cyrus¡¯ Legion? What happened to it?¡±

    The shaman furrowed her brow in thought. ¡°Details are sparse, probably since I actually got most of my history through books and stories available to me. From what I can remember, Cyrus¡¯ Legion was a rebellion against the Lumen Kingdom, hellbent on burning it all to the ground. The civilization ruled under the Legion was one of the ancient ones, dating back to the days of myths and legends¡­ like the four kings or Caelus¨C¡±

    ¡°Another world.¡± James interrupted her tangent, letting her know he was still clueless about everything.

    ¡°Right¡­¡± Dahlia coughed, giving James a nervous smile. ¡°From what I can recall from what the bards say, the legion fell apart after the Battle for Artois. The details after are fuzzy, since some legends say that the very first Lumen Knights burned every record of the legion after it fell.¡±

    ¡®Bullshit,¡¯ Faust commented. ¡®The legion wouldn¡¯t fall to some tin soldiers playing hero¡­¡¯

    James furrowed his brow.

    ¡®What makes you say that? You died before the legion went down. Before the first Lumen Knights appeared, right?¡¯

    James could feel a headache coming on as Faust¡¯s anger flared, a familiar sharp pain coursing through his brain.

    ¡®I fought the very first Lumen Knight,¡¯ Faust spoke. No¡­. It was both of their voices.

    ¡°Oh, not again,¡± they both breathed out, their eyes rolling to the back of their skull as they fell onto the deck, the world going black.

 B.2 Chapter 12: Etiam

    Just like last time, it was all like a dream. Hazy and disorientating. Still, it rapidly cleared out, showcasing the memory they were reliving.

    Faust was with his fellow men, his steel armor glinting in the partial sunlight. He was sharpening his gladius, feeling the whetstone grind against the blade¡¯s edge. It was rhythmic, syncing up to his heartbeat like a war drum. The rest of the men were gearing up as well, most of them with nervous looks and pale faces.

    Faust couldn¡¯t relate, as his heart was racing, his blood coursing through his veins as he stared at his reflection on his gladius. He was born for this. The old Legate soon showed himself, walking out of his red tent.

    ¡°All right, everyone, let¡¯s get moving. That fortress will not take itself out!¡±

    The men all shouted in agreement, some more excited than others. Faust grinned and sheathed his blade before he grabbed his helmet, its red mane swaying in the wind. Just as the Centurion placed the helmet on his head, the world suddenly shifted.

    The scene was now vastly different, dark clouds threatening to snuff out the warm sunlight as the wind picked up leaves and dust. Faust was outside of a fortress¡¯s walls, the rest of his comrades behind him. Evidence of battle was apparent throughout the scene, blood and arrows littering the ground. Faust even spotted some bodies nearby, some of them unrecognizable.

    ¡°Leonard Kord!¡± the Centurion shouted in anger, raising his gladius to the fortress. ¡°Come out, you coward! Let¡¯s end this like men!¡± Faust¡¯s eyes could spot movement from atop the walls, an aged knight making his appearance. The man wore much different armor than the rest of his knights, his family¡¯s seal visible on his ornate breastplate, as well as the red wax seal of Delphine.

    Faust recalled the red wax seals that represented the knights who served under Delphine¡¯s church. They were supposed to be inquisitors, taking part in wars only when their goddess commanded it. Yet here was one of her loyal knights, fighting at the front lines for the Lumen Kingdom¡¯s best interests. Faust knew of the title given to this particular man, as the Legate had already briefed him on it prior to the battle.

    Leonard Kord, the now Lumen Knight, brushed his salt and pepper hair aside, his tired blue eyes visible from the distance. He even had a disheveled looking beard, which added to the look of exhaustion. Yet his posture did not falter. Neither did his voice.

    ¡°I am of the notion that we settle this like honorable men,¡± he said. ¡°We can end all of this with no more unnecessary deaths,¡± the knight added. Faust almost laughed at the man. He knew he had to be getting desperate, as the fortress had been under siege for the last few months.

    ¡®They¡¯re either out of supplies or morale.¡¯

    ¡°No one needs to die,¡± Faust agreed. ¡°Just as long as you let down that bridge and let us take it over in the name of Cyrus!¡± He added, prompting some soldiers behind him to cheer.

    Leonard shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid we cannot allow that to happen. Retreat Centurion, or you will suffer Delphine¡¯s light.¡±

    ¡°I am not afraid of your goddess! For we have the blessing of Caelus!¡± The men behind Faust cheered again, clashing their tower shields and weapons together to make noise.

    ¡®If this keeps up, we¡¯ll be standing at a stalemate for months.¡¯

    Faust was sure they could win either way, but the default option of waiting risked even more lives and time. Things that they didn¡¯t have enough of already.

    Both the knight and Centurion stared each other down from their respective distances, before finally Faust spoke up once more.

    ¡°How about I propose a challenge?¡± he called up to Leonard, the men around the two quieting down.

    The knight raised a gray eyebrow. ¡°What kind of challenge?¡± he asked.

    ¡°A duel! To see who is the better man! If you win, we will leave your fortress alone out of goodwill, and return to our base across the border,¡± Faust called out. He heard the men behind him curse loudly, most of them murmuring amongst themselves. The Lumen Knight stroked at his beard, intrigued.

    ¡°But if I win, we take over your fortress. Peacefully, if you allow it.¡± Faust knew he was sounding like a fool, almost like those ¡®heroes¡¯ those bards sang in their songs. Regardless, he wanted this all to be over and done with.

    One of the other knights on the wall, a young man, laughed audibly. ¡°Are you some sort of idiot? We will never trust a damn legionnaire!¡±

    Faust clenched his fist, his eyes focusing on the knight. Before he could say something cutting, however, Leonard spoke up.

    ¡°Do you swear it on Caelus?¡± The knight asked. Faust blinked, unsure if the old knight was actually serious. ¡°Do you swear to uphold your vow to the god? That you do as promised?¡± He repeated.

    Faust could see the other men on the wall react, their voices full of disbelief and anger. Leonard raised a hand to quiet them down, turning to speak with them under inaudible chatter. Faust looked back at his men, who all seemed to have the same reaction as the ones on the wall.

    ¡°Faust!¡± one man hissed. ¡°What has gotten into you? Gambling our victory in a duel?¡±

    Faust held back a chuckle as he tapped his gladius¡¯ hilt.

    ¡°My dear friend, are you afraid I will lose? I haven¡¯t lost a fight in all my years in Cyrus¡¯ Legion,¡± he assured them.

    ¡°That is not the point!¡± The other men seemed to be riled up, their murmurs raising noise. Faust raised his hands to quiet them down.

    ¡°Look, you all must have faith in me,¡± Faust called back. ¡°Settling the matter this way will ensure we do not waste our time sitting on our asses and waiting for those bastards to run out of supplies or, worse, get reinforced by troops from Artois. If I somehow lose¡­ then I will take the total blame for our loss and report myself to the Legate and then to Cyrus himself.¡±

    Faust¡¯s words seemed to have calmed the men down, but not entirely. They were part of the first detachment, sent out to weaken the enemy and assess the possibility of ending the ongoing siege, which had been lasting for a few months. To try and end this siege now was far from what they were initially sent to do.

    ¡°Centurion! Have you made your decision?¡± The Lumen Knight¡¯s voice rang out, catching Faust¡¯s attention.

    Faust turned back to the wall, his eyes meeting those of the knights.

    ¡°I swear to Caelus, God of Order and Truth, that I will keep to my word!¡± Faust stated, raising his sword to the heavens. At first, there was an awkward silence as the wind blew silently throughout the landscape.

    Then, the God answered his call.

    Faust¡¯s eyes watched as his gladius gained a holy glow, silver filigrees suddenly appearing on the blade¡¯s edge. Runic symbols even burned themselves onto the blade¡¯s hilt. The same happened to his bronze armor, runic symbols and engravings appearing subtly on the edges of his armor. Faust blinked, surprised that the god himself had answered. Men on both sides talked amongst each other, murmuring and clamoring as Faust gazed up at Leonard Kord. The knight nodded and turned around, walking out of sight.

    After some time, the drawbridge to the fort opened up, the tension in the air so thick that a knife could cut through it. Leonard Kord stepped out, helmet on and sword sheathed at his side as he approached the Centurion, other knights, and soldiers following behind.

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    It seemed as hours passed as they walked, despite it being only a minute. Soon enough, Leonard arrived at the Centurion¡¯s location, a good five meters away. Even his men stayed back.

    No one from either side dared to move. Leonard opened his helmet¡¯s visor, his blue eyes staring the Centurion down as he unsheathed his broadsword. He raised it to the heavens, not unlike Faust had done.

    ¡°I swear to Delphine, Goddess of Light and Healing, that I will accept our duel and its conditions!¡±

    Like with the Centurion, nothing happened for the first couple of seconds. Then, ethereal light surrounded the knight, his body gaining a soft glow as engravings appeared on the edges of his armor, as well as his sword. Soon enough, the knight was like Faust, his own engravings and runic symbols differentiating in color and appearance. Suddenly, a line of ethereal blue flames appeared around the two, circling around the warriors to create a ring.

    Faust grinned at the sight, realizing that he was becoming a part of history itself. This was a duel blessed by the Gods themselves, fated to be sung about for centuries to come. Faust looked at his opponent, who seemed to realize the same thing. Kord pulled his visor down, readying his sword with both hands. Faust readied his gladius, staring the knight down as they circled each other, tension building up between the two.

    Faust was the first to strike, his blade¡¯s tip aimed at Kord¡¯s jugular. Kord deflected the attack, moving to create a counterattack at Faust¡¯s exposed flank. Faust saw the attack coming, his body shifting at the last moment, the broadsword¡¯s edge scraping against his armor¡¯s side. He backed away, watching how Kord rushed at him with a downward slash. Faust used his gladius to counter the attack, their blades clashing in a shower of sparks.

    Faust forced both blades to the side before using his left fist to punch the knight¡¯s helmet, dazing him. Kord stumbled away, trying to regain his composure before Faust came in again, his gladius now moving in for a downward stab. The gladius¡¯ tip found its mark in a gap between Kord¡¯s chest plate and left shoulder guard, piercing flesh and sending specks of blood flying. Kord shouted in pain, his left hand moving to grab at Faust.

    The Centurion didn¡¯t allow for the knight to recover, as his left fist moved in for another punch. His gauntlets made a gong-like sound against the knight¡¯s helmet as he uppercut Kord. The knight stumbled back, nearly falling, before he finally regained his footing. Still, Kord didn¡¯t see Faust¡¯s kick, which finally sent him to the ground.

    Faust watched as the knight struggled to recover from his dazed state, the Centurion moving in to retrieve his gladius from Kord¡¯s shoulder. The knight was halfway up before Faust forced him onto his knees, his hand forcefully yanking his blade from the other man¡¯s flesh. Kord winced painfully, panting as Faust looked down at him.

    ¡®Pathetic¡­¡¯

    ¡°This is it? This is what the Lumen kingdom offers?¡± Faust asked as he turned to the other soldiers, extending his arms as if to address the entire fortress. Disappointment reigned in him as he stared at the sullen faces of the Lumen soldiers, their eyes downcast.

    ¡°Pathetic! What is the point of even fighting you all if this is what you have to offer?!¡± He gestured towards Leonard before turning to look at the knight. Faust¡¯s eyes widened, his blood running cold as he saw the incoming fist of Leonard Kord.

    Crack!

    Something broke as Faust¡¯s vision was instantly white. Faust stumbled, feeling something warm and thick run down his nose and mouth.

    ¡®Blood.¡¯

    Faust recognized the familiar taste of iron filling his mouth as his vision returned, only to see Kord¡¯s downward slash.

    Faust instantly tried to block, his gladius coming up to deflect the attack. No luck. Kord¡¯s slash was faster, the steel blade cutting across Faust¡¯s breastplate. The attack threw Faust back, nearly making him lose his footing. He tried to realize the situation, his mind racing with solutions and counters.

    Before he knew it, however, Kord attacked again, his blade swinging at Faust soon after his first strike. Faust had no time to block this one either.

    ¡®He¡¯s lost his momentum! His attack won¡¯t do much besides maybe scratch and¨C¡¯

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± The knight shouted. His body visibly tensed up, and the air shimmered around him.

    Faust¡¯s eyes widened as the next attack struck true, this time cutting swiftly through his breastplate and chainmail. The impact of the strike alone sent the Centurion sprawling onto the ground. Faust coughed up blood, his chest painfully moving with every breath as he tried to stand. He caught a glance of his chest, the two wounds from the broadsword forming a red X.

    ¡®He used a physical casting¡­¡¯

    Faust remembered what the knight had shouted. That ¡®Power Strike¡¯ had amplified Kord¡¯s swing, making it hit much harder and much faster.

    ¡°You have been beaten. Accept your loss and save yourself.¡± Kord took off his helmet, blood staining his beard and lips. The knight turned to the rest of Cyrus¡¯ army. ¡°I have bested your chosen warrior! Your legion will fall like he, as well as Cyrus himself! Run, tell your leaders what you saw! I, the chosen champion of Delphine¡¯s light, have defeated your best!¡±

    As Kord rambled on, Faust was currently trying to get up, blood leaking from his mouth as he slowly picked himself up from the dirt. The Centurion was on his knees now, his hand gripping onto his gladius as he stared at the knight, who had his back turned. Anger and rage filled Faust¡¯s heart, the blood in his mouth suddenly tasting sweet. Faust gritted his teeth, crawling to the knight as he held onto his gladius.

    Finally, without warning, Faust sliced the back of Kord¡¯s knees with his ever so sharp blade. Kord yelled in agony as he toppled over, landing next to the Centurion. Faust didn¡¯t hesitate to climb on top of the knight, gladius in hand.

    Kord tried to fight back, but Faust used his newfound energy to kick the knight¡¯s sword away from reach. Using his gladius, the Centurion unleashed a flurry of stabs onto Kord, jabbing at his arms and torso mercilessly. Some of his strikes scraped against armor and gambeson, but Faust didn¡¯t care. He wanted to carve him up like a butcher would a hog.

    Kord tried to fight back, his hands shoving back against the Centurion¡¯s blade. Faust¡¯s rage was stronger, however, his strength overpowering the knight¡¯s. Using his left hand, Faust pummeled Kord relentlessly. His fist rang out like a mallet against raw meat.

    ¡°Leonard!¡± some knights outside the circle shouted as they tried to enter the ring, to no avail.

    ¡°Mercy¡­ please¡­¡± Kord coughed out. His face was bloated and bruised, blood coming from every orifice.

    Faust didn¡¯t listen, his gladius rising above his head as he stared down at the knight with a burning fury. He plunged the blade down, but not without resistance. Kord had some life in him. The knight tried to hold the blade back, eyes wide with fear as they struggled with the gladius, its tip drawing closer to Kord¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Yield!¡± Kord suddenly shouted in desperation, his voice echoing into the sky. ¡°I yie¡ª¡±

    He was interrupted when Faust slammed the hilt¡¯s end with a fist, forcing the blade to pierce the knight¡¯s jugular.

    ¡°Infirmus,¡± Faust growled.

    Kord¡¯s eyes widened as he tried to speak, but only the sounds of gurgling came out. Faust punched the hilt again, yelling as he forced the gladius deeper. The blade pierced through the throat fully, blood spurting from the incision as the crimson liquid poured from the knight¡¯s open lips. Kord stopped struggling, but Faust kept going. He slammed and jolted the sword before the gladius¡¯ tip hit the dirt below, nailing the knight to the ground.

    The brown concoction of blood and dirt pooled around the two men, who were still holding onto each other as if they were passionate lovers. Faust stared at the dead Lumen Knight, whose blue eyes were now vacant and soulless. The Centurion had lost his helmet at some point, his sweat and dirt-covered hair sticking to his forehead. There was no more holy magic in place now. The engravings on both the men¡¯s armor and weapons were gone. The ethereal ring was gone as well, but neither side of the field dared a move.

    Faust felt a couple of cold droplets of rain hit his head before a few more followed it. Soon, it started raining, the cold water washing off the blood on Faust. He stared at the soldiers in front of him, the ones loyal to the Lumen Kingdom. They all seemed stunned, a mixture of anger and fear on their faces.

    Faust attempted to stand, failed, tried again, and soon got his footing. After a couple of heated breaths, he raised a bloodied fist at the men and their fortress.

    ¡°Surrender without resistance¡­ or die,¡± Faust threatened behind gritted teeth. His legion of men came into view, readying their tower shields and weapons.

    The enemy chose unwisely, their shouts of anger accompanying their charge as they unsheathed their weapons. Faust¡¯s men met with the soldiers before they could advance to the Centurion, clashing with them as sounds of battle filled the air.

    As their battle waged on, Faust reached into his belt¡¯s pouch, pulling out a copper vial with a cork seal. Using his teeth, Faust uncorked the health potion before downing it all in one go. The sickeningly sweet taste of cherries and cinnamon replaced the one of copper and blood in his mouth, his body¡¯s strain soon wearing off. Faust felt rejuvenated again, warmth overcoming him as his wounds healed. He looked towards his men, who were pushing their way onto the drawbridge ahead.

    ¡°Take the fortress!¡± Faust commanded. ¡°Whoever resists gets put to the sword! Burn it all down!¡± The surrounding men cheered in response, which made the Centurion beam with pride as they pushed past him. Faust looked down at the body of Leonard Kord, whose eyes stared at Faust as if he had betrayed him.

    ¡°I never said what I was going to do to the fortress if I won,¡± Faust simply stated. The Centurion grinned as he joined his men in rushing at the fortress ahead.

 B.2 Chapter 13: Vindis

    James awoke with a loud gasp, his lungs begging for breath as he suddenly sat up.

    ¡®Too hot¡­¡¯

    His hands moved to undo his armor and cloak. His body was overheating, sweat dampening his clothes and hair. As he pulled off his leather armor and cloak, James realized he wasn¡¯t on deck anymore. He was somewhere darker, the only light coming from a hatch in the ceiling.

    ¡®Below deck?¡¯

    ¡°James?¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice caught his attention, prompting the young man to turn to the shaman. He nearly reached for his short sword by instinct, Faust¡¯s memory still fresh in his mind.

    ¡°Dahlia?¡± James asked, squinting through the dim light. The shaman was by the wall, sitting on a barrel as she held an opened journal. She closed her book, moving to James¡¯ side. She put a cool hand on his sweating forehead, frowning.

    ¡°You¡¯re overheating,¡± she pointed out.

    ¡°Yeah, no shit!¡± James pulled away, feeling as if he was going to cook to death.

    ¡®Need to get outside¡­ on top of the deck¡­¡¯

    James pulled off his blue tunic, leaving him in his long-sleeved undershirt as he went up the steps, his hands pushing the hatch open as he stepped outside. The cold breeze felt like bliss on his stressed body.

    ¡®Oh, thank god¡­¡¯

    James let out a breath, which turned into a cloud of steam as he did so. As he cooled off, his mind went back to the memory he had experienced earlier. Faust, Kord, the duel, everything.

    ¡®Faust¡­ What the fuck was that?!¡¯ James mentally shouted at the spirit, who finally made his presence known.

    ¡®I don¡¯t control my memories, alright? Things just¡­ happen¡­¡¯ Faust sounded just as stressed as James, his voice strained and mentally exhausted. James wanted to vomit, the swaying of the deck not helping as he did his best to keep his breakfast in. All that blood, violence, and pain was too much for the young man. His stomach turned at the memory of the knight¡¯s twisted expression of agony.

    ¡®Faust¡­ what did I see?¡¯ James asked again. The spirit was quiet, as if he was hesitating.

    ¡®Faust,¡¯ James demanded.

    ¡°James, are you alright?¡±

    The blond man turned to see a worried Seamus, accompanied by a confused Haggard and Helen. Dahlia had just arrived as well, standing by the hatch nearby. James regained his composure, straightening himself as his breathing went back to normal. He looked down at himself, his gray shirt drenched in sweat.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± James answered as he wiped his forehead with a damp sleeve.

    ¡°Are you sure? You passed out a few hours ago and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Can you just shut it?!¡± James snapped. ¡°I said I¡¯m fine!¡±

    His outburst was enough to stun Seamus and surprise everyone else. James sighed, shaking his head as he walked back below deck, avoiding eye contact. This wasn¡¯t the first time he had experienced Faust¡¯s memory, the last time being before Yorktown¡¯s climatic battle. The memory had inspired James¡¯ original plan before it all went to hell. Faust had killed others in that memory as well before dying at the end.

    Still, James had only experienced the memory through hazy eyes and fuzzy recollections. This recent memory was an entirely different story, however. James could swear he was the one fighting, the one bleeding out, the one who slowly killed the knight. It was like it was his own memory, vivid and detailed in every way.

    ¡®Could it be that my connection to Faust is slowly growing stronger?¡¯ James wondered to himself. The young man sat back at the spot where he had woken up, his body temperature now back to normal.

    Dahlia came up to the young man, her face furrowed with clear anger and other mixed emotions.

    ¡°What has gotten into you? We were worried sick about you, and the first thing you do is yell at us? What happened?¡± She was obviously confused and understandably pissed off at James. ¡°I had thought you were sick. Your body was overheating, and you were speaking in your sleep¡­¡± She slowly trailed off, realization hitting her. ¡°It was Faust again¡­ Wasn¡¯t it? Another memory?¡± Dahlia sat down in front of James, her pissed-off expression replaced by one of intrigue.

    ¡°What did you see?¡± she inquired.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t want to talk about it,¡± James answered softly, his eyes closing. ¡°It was¡­ too much. I need some time to process it all,¡± he explained.

    ¡°I see,¡± Dahlia muttered. There was a sense of worry about her words, but James could still see that she was still upset with him. ¡°Take some time to rest down here, but come up when you¡¯re ready. Helen spotted Vindis through her spotting glass, so we¡¯ll arrive at the city soon.¡±

    The shaman stood up right after; her back turning to James. ¡°Apologize to Seamus once you¡¯re up there.¡± With that, Dahlia headed out through the hatch. Leaving James alone with his thoughts.

    ¡®Faust¡­¡¯ James asked again, softer this time.

    ¡®I don¡¯t know,¡¯ the spirit answered. ¡®I don¡¯t know what we saw. It¡¯s a memory that¡¯s foreign to me as well, James. I don¡¯t know what kind of man I was, nor what people I was fighting.¡¯

    ¡°I think¡­ I think we need to rest a little, tackle this another time.¡± James could feel Faust¡¯s spirit shift inside of him.

    ¡®Agreed,¡¯ the spirit murmured.

    James sighed tiredly, rubbing his eyes before frowning again.

    ¡°Can you answer one question?¡± He asked.

    ¡®Sure. What is it?¡¯ Faust inquired.

    ¡°I¡¯m confused about the memory. Wasn¡¯t Kord the one who killed you originally?¡± James could¡¯ve sworn that was the same man who had beheaded Faust, as he had worn the same wax seal and phoenix emblem.

    ¡®Yes, and no,¡¯ Faust answered before explaining. ¡®From what I can gather in my memories, the one that killed me was another of Leonard Kord¡¯s family. Possibly his son.¡¯

    James raised his head. ¡°So I guess he was coming at you for revenge?¡±

    ¡®It would seem so.¡¯

    ¡°Christ,¡± James muttered as he rubbed his eyes. He soon rested back on the cot he had been sleeping on earlier. It smelled of alcohol and wet dog, but it was better than the hard wooden floor.

    After some time, James would inevitably change back into his full gear again, leaving his cloak and shield behind as he went back above the deck. The breeze hit him again, this time making the man shiver as he looked around. Everyone seemed busy, the two strangers working on the wheel and sails as Helen and Haggard stood on the quarterdeck. Seamus was currently sitting on a barrel, focusing on the map he held in both hands.

    ¡®I¡¯m an asshole,¡¯ James realized, remembering how he snapped at the young man out of nowhere. He felt a pang of guilt and shame, which made it harder for him to gather up the courage to speak with Seamus. Nonetheless, James walked up to the young man, looking down at the map he held.

    ¡°Sorry for yelling at you earlier,¡± James apologized. He watched how Seamus raised his head to look at James.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Seamus answered before he looked back at the map. James didn¡¯t know how to take his answer. He awkwardly stood there as Seamus sat in focus. ¡°Can you at least tell me what happened?¡± Seamus suddenly asked.

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    James looked around for a moment, making sure no one was around to eavesdrop. He finally turned to Seamus, who was looking up at James with an expecting look.

    ¡°Do you remember last week? When we were training with Harald? Do you remember when I had passed out, when I relived a memory of the spirit Faust?¡± James asked. Seamus nodded, a look of realization dawning on his expression.

    ¡°It was another memory from Faust,¡± James started. ¡°Something triggered it, and I passed out again, but it was different this time. It felt¡­ real, too real.¡±

    James looked down at his hands, and for an instant, it flashed back to the memory, his hands that of the Centurion¡¯s, bloody and dirtied. James blinked, and the vision was gone. He shivered at the memory, knowing full well he would have to bury it with the others.

    ¡°When I awoke, my body was overheating, much more than last time. I was stressed, scared, and confused,¡± James explained.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to go any further,¡± Seamus said. He raised a hand to stop James from continuing. ¡°I can understand what you have gone through. I know our experiences are very different, but I can¡¯t help but feel like I can relate to your situation with Faust,¡± Seamus grimaced. ¡°We all have our own demons, James. The way we deal with them depends on the people who are there with us.¡±

    James wondered about Seamus¡¯ behavior, how he himself had been rather distant ever since the day he had killed those marauders. Did the man deal with his own inner conflict? It would explain a lot about how he had been acting.

    Before James could ask, Helen shouted across the deck,

    ¡°We¡¯re coming up on Vindis! Get us to half sails now!¡±

    James watched as Seamus responded to the woman¡¯s call, moving to one of the nearby ropes that held the sails. He stood dumbly, watching as Seamus and another man moved around the deck, raising the sails to the request of Helen. James then finally saw the distant city of Vindis, now visible without the black sails in the way. James headed to the bow of the ship, hoping to get

    The city was enormous, much bigger than even the island Yorktown resided on. Most of the buildings were at least two stories high, the tallest being around seven. However, James was not focused on the taller buildings. He could see how the city was supported by enormous platforms, all of them tied together by cables and taut rope.

    Waves of all sizes struck against the platforms, but the buildings above them didn¡¯t seem to budge in even the slightest of movements. Countless ships surrounded the city, forming a makeshift barrier around its perimeter. James could see how their own ship was approaching a small gap in between the barrier, which was accompanied by a couple of sloops and longships.

    ¡°Pull up all the sails now!¡± Helen shouted, catching James¡¯ attention. James looked back at the deck, seeing how everyone was pulling up the sails via ropes. James moved to help Seamus pull the sails. By the time everything was said and done, Frostbite was dead in the water, slowly drifting towards the gap in the barrier. Helen walked down to the main deck, Haggard behind her as she looked towards everyone.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll do most of the talking. All of you stay quiet,¡± Helen ordered before she moved to starboard, waiting as the ship eventually reached the gap.

    James felt the ship suddenly stop, nearly losing his footing as the deck swayed.

    ¡°Halt!¡± a loud voice came from off the ship. James moved to the starboard, looking off the ship¡¯s edge. There was a longboat, half the size of Frostbite.

    ¡°What is your business in Vindis travelers?¡± The voice rang out once more. James looked for the source of the voice, his eyes passing over men in gambeson and chainmail, almost all of them wearing the same shade of cyan. His eyes settled on a much shorter and broad-shouldered man, whose beard ran nearly half his height.

    ¡®Dwarf¡­¡¯

    That was the first word that ran through James¡¯ mind.

    ¡°We¡¯re here on business,¡± Helen answered.

    The dwarf scoffed at that answer, his large hands stroking his braided beard.

    ¡°Business? You?¡± He gestured at the ship¡¯s hull, which still displayed its red paint job. ¡°You marauders are always causing trouble, even more so after what happened to Yorn. What can you do to promise me you won¡¯t start some shit in Vindis?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Not much, besides my word,¡± Helen answered.

    ¡°Your word?¡± The dwarf asked, letting out a dry laugh. ¡°You marauders really get on my nerves. I oughta Fireball your damned ship to little cinders. Rid the world of scum like you.¡±

    James could feel sweat dampening his forehead, his nerves getting the better of him as he looked towards Helen, who seemed unable to talk the dwarven man down.

    ¡°We¡¯re not marauders!¡± James heard himself shout, his instincts taking over before his logic could. The dwarf raised his brow in surprise, turning to look at James.

    ¡°Well what do we have ¡®ere? What do you mean by you¡¯re not marauders blondie?¡± The shorter man gestured at the hull. ¡°You obviously sail in a marauder¡¯s ship, or perhaps you share an artist with the bunch?¡±

    A couple of the other men snickered at the remark. James ignored them, staring down at the dwarf. His thoughts ran wild with what his next words should be, lest he and the entire ship suffer.

    ¡°We took it from them,¡± he answered, straight to the point.

    ¡°Took it? From the Marauders of the North? What a load a shite.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m serious. We kicked their asses after they tried to raid our town. This is the ship those assholes left behind.¡± James hoped his false bravado would work, as he had nothing else to use against these men.

    ¡®Just got to seem confident. Like in those RPG games Nick used to make me play.¡¯

    ¡°Now let us through, or we¡¯ll make sure we¡¯ll add your dinky little longboat to our spoils,¡± He demanded suddenly. James felt everyone¡¯s eyes move onto him as he threatened the dwarf and his companions, who had all gone deathly silent. Now that was too far, as the stunned stares told him he was far gone beyond the point of no return. James still kept his serious face, even though he was mentally screaming at himself.

    ¡®Caelus¡¯ balls...¡¯ Faust groaned internally.

    ¡®Stupid stupid stupid!¡¯

    James bashed at himself, panicking mentally. He didn¡¯t dare to break eye contact with the dwarf, who was stunned by his words, his eye twitching for a second. The dwarf looked as if to yell, but then stopped and laughed. Heartily. The tension in the air soon dissipated as the dwarf guffawed, doubling over in laughter as everyone else looked at each other with confused looks.

    ¡°Oh¡­ Oh, you¡¯re a funny one!¡± The dwarf exclaimed, wiping a tear from his eye. ¡°You really got me there. I almost thought you were serious! You should¡¯ve seen the look on your face when you realized what you had said!¡± The dwarf¡¯s laughing soon faded away before he finally sighed, all of his energy gone.

    ¡°Alright. You¡¯re obviously not a threat, so you¡¯re good to go. Just for making my day, I¡¯ll even let you all go in without the necessary fee.¡± He waved James off. ¡°Off you go then. Get yourselves docked at the harbor.¡±

    James stared dumbfounded at the dwarf, who turned to converse with his fellow buddies. Soon, Frostbite moved again, with Helen navigating the ship to the harbor as a couple of longboats rowed next to the ship. James watched in awe as they got closer to the city, passing by what looked like makeshift buoys marked with glowing runes as they floated peacefully.

    The city ahead grew closer by the second, and before long, Frostbite was finally floating next to a floating platform, thanks to the longboats¡¯ guidance. Some men on the platform and longboat threw ropes onto the deck of the ship, causing Helen to call out,

    ¡°Tie the ropes to the starboard side!¡±

    James watched as Seamus and the other men moved to grab the ropes on the deck, moving to tie them. He joined them, following their lead. Once everything was done, James could feel the ship move once more, this time towards the floating platform next to them. He watched as the ship slowly made contact with the harbor before finally docking.

    One man on the floating platforms, a man with dark brown hair and sunburnt skin, called his companions to put up a bridge. James watched as the men brought up a uniquely shaped wooden platform. Using this, they connected the ship¡¯s dock to the platform.

    James looked over at his companions, who all seemed to look at him for direction.

    ¡°Helen,¡± James started, looking over at the ex-marauder. ¡°Have you been to Vindis before?¡± He asked. If the marauder knew the city well, she could be important in helping them find what they needed.

    Helen shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve only been here a handful of times, most of those times years apart,¡± she responded. James frowned, looking over at everyone else. The two men in green tunics, the ones Gryff had sent, both shrugged.

    ¡°This is our first time here,¡± one of them spoke, his voice gruff like he had been washing his throat with whiskey for the last ten years of his life. James looked towards his friends, who shook their heads.

    ¡°I¡¯ve only seen the city, never been inside,¡± Seamus responded.

    ¡°Only been here once before, but I didn¡¯t explore beyond the marketplace and harbor,¡± Dahlia said. James looked at Haggard, hoping that he had a better answer.

    ¡°I visited this place before Yorktown, but I forgot most of the time I spent here since I got drunk at one of the taverns nearby.¡± Haggard¡¯s response didn¡¯t spark an ounce of hope in James.

    The young man sighed, rubbing his eyes.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do it like this¡­¡± James looked at the group in front of him. ¡°Haggard, Helen, and Dahlia are coming with me. Everyone else stays on the ship.¡± James watched everyone¡¯s reactions, varying between disappointment, excitedness, and downright terror. Seamus was the one who was gripped by such fear.

    ¡°James,¡± Seamus started, lowering his voice as he got close. ¡°I appreciate you not taking me with you on this little journey that will probably end up with you getting mugged, but are you really going to leave me here with these guys?¡± He gestured towards the two other men he was supposed to stay with, who seemed bored at the prospect of waiting on the ship.

    James raised an eyebrow. ¡°Do they really bother you that much?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Yes! They bother me!¡± Seamus exclaimed in a low voice.

    James sighed, scratching at his head as he glanced at the two men again.

    ¡°Look, our time in Vindis probably won¡¯t even last that long. Just bear with these guys until we get back, alright?¡± James looked towards the group he had chosen for his little ¡®journey,¡¯ all of them already heading down the ramp that connected the deck to the platform below. ¡°Just hang in there.¡± James gave his words of encouragement before heading off, leaving Seamus to call out in loud whispers.

    ¡°James! James! You ass! I swear¡­¡±

    James didn¡¯t hear the rest of what Seamus was saying as he walked down the ramp that led into Vindis City.

 B.2 Chapter 14: The Wizard

    James walked with his small group, sticking with them like glue as they walked past crowds of people heading out of the harbor and into what looked like a plaza.

    ¡°Geez, how many people are there in Vindis?¡± James commented as another trader carrying a bag of goods bumped into him.

    ¡°Not as much as you might think,¡± Helen said, her hands no longer shackled together like cuffs. For better or for worse, depending on who you asked, her left wrist was now shackled with Haggard¡¯s right. ¡°Most of the people you see here are from merchant ships. The actual residents of Vindis are around the fifty thousand mark,¡± Helen explained.

    Dahlia¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Fifty thousand is a lot, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°Not when you compare to other cities like Bernis, which have roughly doubled the population.¡± As Helen was explaining this, James noticed how some people had their own stands set up, just like back in Yorktown. Potions for breathing underwater, swords that never break, and magic for predicting the future were among the products being advertised. James felt a bit intrigued when one trader, a greasy-looking man with a crooked smile, recommended to him an assortment of fruits that could enhance him beyond his wildest imaginations. Dahlia had to pull him away from that one.

    ¡°Most of these traders are swindlers out for your silver and gold,¡± Dahlia told James, who laughed nervously.

    ¡°I knew that,¡± he responded, but gave the previous trader one last glance before he eventually lost sight of him.

    James looked up at the gray sky, seeing how it slowly dimmed.

    ¡®Has the day gone by so quickly?¡¯

    ¡°Where are we headed?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Well, while you were out drunk, Dahlia here told me you were thinking about hiring a merc to help you all with your dirty work,¡± Helen started. Dahlia raised an eyebrow at the drunk comment. James could see how she opened her mouth to say something, possibly biting. He subtly shook his head at her, which seemed to do the trick of stopping her.

    ¡°So we¡¯re heading to a tavern I used to frequent back in my youngin days. Pretty filled to the brim with swords for hire,¡± Helen finished. James swore he could see a hint of a smile on the ex-marauder¡¯s lips.

    ¡°You guys can do that,¡± Dahlia said to Helen and her guard, Haggard, before looking over at James. ¡°I¡¯ll need you to help me with gathering some supplies for making potions and runes,¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a Wizard around here that can get you the things you need,¡± Haggard spoke up. ¡°I¡¯d been to his place before I came to Yorktown. Peculiar, but he¡¯s very skilled and well-knowledge in magic. I can tell you where to find him.¡± James heard Haggard mention unfamiliar street and building names while Dahlia listened attentively.

    ¡°Good. James and I will head over to him,¡± the shaman responded. James and Dahlia soon departed Haggard and Helen on their way to the tavern, but not without Helen telling Dahlia where to find the tavern for later.

    ¡°Just remember,¡± Dahlia said before she left with James. ¡°Our budget for a mercenary is roughly eighty pieces of gold, no more,¡± she explained to the ex-marauder. As James and Dahlia walked off, James looked at her with a confused look.

    ¡°Eighty pieces? Isn¡¯t one gold piece worth about fifty silver coins?¡± He questioned.

    ¡°Yes, that is correct,¡± the shaman responded.

    ¡°Where¡¯d we get eighty pieces from? How?¡± James wasn¡¯t familiar with the monetary system of this world, but he could definitely tell that the worth of four thousand pieces of silver was a lot of money.

    ¡°Some of it is my entire life¡¯s savings¡­ and the rest is from the ship those marauders left behind. We have around a hundred and twenty gold pieces, but I¡¯m not keen on spending it all on one or two mercenaries,¡± Dahlia explained. ¡°Now pick up the pace, will you? We haven¡¯t got all day.¡±

    As the two maneuvered their way past crowds of people, James caught a look at some armored patrols. The guards all wore a mix of gambeson and chain mail, their weapons being that of spears. Like the guards who guarded the city¡¯s entrance, they too also wore tabards that were the same cyan color.

    ¡®I guess these are the city watch.¡¯

    James stayed close to Dahlia as he watched the gatherings of people around him like a child in awe. Most people were moving, making their way to their destinations. Others were grouped up, making transactions, socializing, or watching displays of bards or performers. James found it all fascinating, reinforcing the fact that this world was truly something else.

    Both he and Dahlia stopped for a bit to watch a female bard sing, her fingers fluidly plucking the strings of her lute with precision as she sang about the wonders of the north and the mysteries of Valenfrost. James watched as she ended the show with a flourish, accompanied by small magical sparks that came from her lute¡¯s strings. The crowd watching her erupted into clapping and cheers, some even tipping her various coins of different metals. James smiled at the display before feeling Dahlia¡¯s hand tug him away.

    James and the shaman moved through a couple of marked alleyways, crossing a couple of bridges that connected between platforms. James made the mistake of looking down the gap between, seeing the cold black waters of the sea splash against the platform. His stomach twisted at the thought of falling into it, unable to swim in the tight space while he drowned.

    ¡®No one will be able to save you¡­¡¯

    James shook those thoughts away. It would be best if he ignored the gaps.

    Soon enough, James and Dahlia finally arrived at their destination. It was a small shop at the corner of a two-story building, its windows covered up by blue and purple blankets. The only light around was a lantern hanging off the corner of the building, its flame a pale blue. The sign above the storefront was faded and beaten, but James could make out the words.

    ¡°Nathan¡¯s Runes and Gizmos¡­¡± James read aloud, squinting as he reread it silently, making sure he had misread nothing. He looked at Dahlia, who shrugged.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see if they have what we need?¡± She proposed. James nodded and headed into the shop¡¯s doors.

    A bell rang as James entered, catching the attention of someone at the desk ahead.

    ¡°Ah! Customers!¡± A slightly high-pitched male¡¯s voice spoke out. The walls and corners of the store were cluttered with random objects, making the inside cramped. James looked at the desk, seeing a smaller man sitting behind it. His proportions were strange, as if he had the body of a nine-year-old, despite his slightly bigger head and his features being that of a man in his late twenties.

    ¡°Oh, a gnome,¡± Dahlia commented in a whisper. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen one of them in years.¡± James glanced at the shaman before he walked up to the desk, looking down at the smaller man.

    ¡°Uh... are you Nathan?¡± He asked.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m just the receptionist, Wheaton,¡± the gnome explained. ¡°Nathan is in the back, doing some ¡®big¡¯ project or something¡­¡± He gestured towards the door right behind him, which was blocked by a curtain. James could hear something back there, his ears focusing on the sound as he leaned a little closer. The sound was rhythmic, muffled, and¡­

    ¡°Is that snoring?¡± James asked, surprised. Wheaton chuckled, but James could tell there was a hint of annoyance and anger behind it.

    ¡°Yup! And it¡¯s been going on for the last¡­¡± The gnome pulled out a small pocket watch, its moving gears exposed and visible. ¡°Three. Hours.¡± Wheaton took a breath, murmuring to himself. ¡°He told me not to bother unless a customer asks. He told me not to bother unless a customer asks¡­¡± James could sense that the gnome was more than a little bothered by his boss¡¯s lack of responsibility.

    ¡°Uh¡­¡± James started, but Wheaton raised his head a bit too quickly, looking up at James.

    ¡°Would you like to ask for Nathan?¡± he asked, a little strained in his words. James nodded, to which the gnome accepted as a yes. ¡°Great! I¡¯ll go get him for you!¡± Wheaton got off of his stool, grabbing himself a broom as he pushed past the curtains that led into the back room. The snoring continued loudly for about a second longer before James heard a loud whack and a surprised yell.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s fucking tits! What the hell!¡± a man shouted, to which Wheaton responded,

    ¡°Get your shit together, Nathan! There¡¯s a customer waiting for you!¡±

    After some cursing and some arguing, the back room went quiet. Then a man¡¯s voice rang out, tired and groggy.

    ¡°Come in!¡± he called. James looked at Dahlia, who shrugged. The two eventually walked through the curtains. They were met by a tall man with light brown skin, his height rivaling James¡¯ own, as he straightened himself out. He wore dark, dirty red robes, a hint of gold threads accenting them. He had a large wide-brimmed hat on his head, its tip crooked. It reminded James of those stereotypical Wizard hats in cartoons and old RPG games.

    The Wizard took off his spectacles, which were cracked and dirty, not unlike his clothing, which were frayed at the edges and ripped in some places. James guessed those robes had immensely outlived their expected use. The room they were in was lit by a couple of lanterns emitting the same blue light as the one outside, as well as a couple of normal oil lanterns.

    There was what looked like an alchemy set in the corner, a bookshelf in one, and a workbench near the entrance to the room, accompanied by two different gnomes. The female one of the two looked up at James, seemingly curious at first, before she resumed her work with her male friend. James looked at the Wizard named Nathan, who seemed exhausted as he dismissed Wheaton.

    The Wizard looked over at James, dark bags under his tired eyes. ¡°What can I do for you two?¡± he asked, yawning as he scratched at his patchy beard.

    ¡°Well,¡± Dahlia started. ¡°We need some supplies, specifically these materials and potions.¡± She took out a list, handing it over to Nathan. The Wizard put his spectacles on, reading the piece of parchment.

    ¡°Hmm¡­ Some of these are rather scarce, but I can provide you with these materials,¡± He answered, folding up the piece of paper.

    ¡°Ha! Bullshit!¡± a rough voice rang out from the door across the room. There was a dwarf there, carrying a couple of rucksacks as he entered the room. He had a braided gray beard, showing to James that he was an aging man.

    Nathan groaned. ¡°For the last time, old man! Bandits intercepted the ship carrying your supplies! I could do nothing about it!¡±

    ¡°Hmph, I still call bullshit.¡± The old dwarf headed towards the workbench where the two gnomes were working, dropping the rucksacks.

    ¡°Be careful Rockford!¡± The female gnome cried out, moving to the rucksacks. ¡°These are very delicate parts!¡±

    The dwarf grunted dismissively in response, heading off to another door as the gnomes hurried to check up on their stock.

    ¡°Boy,¡± Rockford suddenly called out, catching James¡¯ attention. James turned to the old dwarf, who was halfway through the door. ¡°When you¡¯re done talking with Mr. Twiddle-Fingers over there, come by my shop behind this here door.¡± The dwarf tapped at the door, gesturing towards the room that it led to. James looked into the dark room and could see an entire workbench, as well as what looked like an oversized furnace and anvil.

    ¡°If you ever need any smithing to be done, you just come to me. I¡¯ll make ya something nice and sturdy, unlike that fool¡¯s ¡®mighty¡¯ magic.¡± Rockford flashed James a grin before shutting the door and disappearing.

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    ¡°Ignore him,¡± Nathan commented, sighing. ¡°That arsehole has been trying to steal my clients for the last five years we¡¯ve been running this shop.¡± He turned away from James and headed off to his little corner, where he rummaged through a chest.

    ¡°Some supplies you want will be harder to find in this mess I have here,¡± Nathan said, pulling out a couple of items and setting them aside. ¡°So give me until¡­ tomorrow morning.¡± He stood up, sighing as he closed the chest, before grabbing some items he had pulled out and placing them into a linen bag.

    ¡°These are the five vitality potions you requested, as well as some of the alchemical ingredients you specified. Again, it¡¯s not everything, but I¡¯ll get you what you need by tomorrow morning.¡± He handed the bag to Dahlia, who accepted it.

    ¡°How much do we owe you?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°Well¡­ The potions are fifty silver a piece¡­ the Horcus herb runs at ten¡­ Rune stones and chalk are...¡± He trailed off in soft muttering, closing his eyes as he did the math. ¡°Roughly three hundred and fifty pieces of silver or seven queen pieces. You can pay half today and the rest when you come back for everything else.¡±

    James looked over at Dahlia, who nodded as she reached under her poncho and into her belt¡¯s pouch. She took out four gold coins and handed them over to the Wizard, who accepted them graciously.

    ¡°Do you mind if I use your workbench?¡± Dahlia asked, gesturing towards the alchemy table.

    The Wizard shrugged. ¡°Sure, just make sure not to break anything,¡± he responded. The shaman grinned before heading her way to the corner of the room.

    James looked at the Wizard, who seemed to be on the edge of a deep sleep.

    ¡°Can I ask you something?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Huh? Oh, sure...¡± Nathan seemed to zone out, but James had brought him back to reality again.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering about this for a while, but I haven¡¯t really gotten a straight answer,¡± James explained. He looked around the workshop, which seemed to emanate a fruity smell. ¡°How does magic work? Is it possible for me to learn?¡± He finally asked, looking back at the Wizard. James was genuinely curious if he could learn to harness magic like Dahlia, or at least, similar to the shaman. Nathan seemed to perk up at the question, his dark brown eyes gaining a spark of life in them.

    ¡°Of course. What would you like to know?¡±

    ¡°Just... pretend I¡¯m a child, like I know nothing about anything,¡± James explained. He watched as the Wizard cupped his chin in thought, closing his eyes.

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s start with the basics,¡± Nathan started, looking around the room before he reached for a nearby steel orb from the gnome¡¯s workbench.

    ¡°Hey!¡± One of them exclaimed, obviously agitated by the sudden removal of their project.

    ¡°Just gonna borrow this for a quick demonstration. I¡¯ll give it back when I¡¯m done,¡± Nathan explained, to the disappointment of the gnomes.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s start with magical ley lines,¡± the Wizard started. ¡°Pretend this orb here is Azura, alright? Throughout Azura, there are these ley lines of magic running through the world, hidden deep within the ground.¡± He tapped his fingers across the orb¡¯s engraved grid, which reminded James of a pineapple¡¯s surface. ¡°They¡¯re quite amazing, spanning across the world in complicated patterns, unlike whatever this thing is.¡± The Wizard¡¯s comment seemed to do it for the gnomes, the male one snatching the orb from the Wizard.

    ¡°It is no ¡®thing¡¯! This is the future!¡± The gnome commented, to which the Wizard waved his hand, shooing the gnome away before he continued his explanation to James.

    ¡°Anyway¡­ Despite those ley lines being physically out of our reach, we can still summon the energy from them to cast spells and magic.¡± The Wizard demonstrated by forming his right hand into a strange formation before a glowing rune materialized onto his palm. ¡°Only whenever we¡¯re on land, however. Here in the middle of the sea, we cannot summon power from them without the help of Vindis¡¯ rune totems.¡±

    James blinked, awestruck, at the rune. Despite seeing Dahlia use her Ignition spell and other magic countless times, it always fascinated him, no matter how many times he watched.

    ¡°Then, by using the correct word, we can cast them.¡± The Wizard aimed his palm at a nearby wall before chanting. ¡°Spark.¡± The rune did as the Wizard said, disintegrating before it exploded into red and blue sparks. ¡°That was an Ignition type spell, so no actual harm until I combo it with another runic spell,¡± the Wizard explained.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ unless you keep using that spell near our workbench! Be careful with that stuff. We have blast powder over here!¡± The gnome exclaimed. Nathan shrugged at that before he turned to James.

    ¡°What else did you want to know?¡± The Wizard asked.

    ¡°Well, for starters, how do I become a spellcaster?¡± James was more than a little curious about the possibilities of using magic. His mouth watered at the idea of slinging Fireballs like a badass.

    ¡°That¡¯s a bit difficult,¡± Nathan explained. ¡°First, your body needs to link up with the magical ley lines below, which require months of meditation and studying, or a special ritual from a shaman. Even if you linked up, you wouldn¡¯t be able to cast spells right away.¡± The Wizard seemed to struggle with the explanation, thinking about it for a while longer before he continued.

    ¡°After linking, there are two ways to become a spellcaster. The first one, and the most difficult, is to study tomes and spell books for years. I¡¯m self-taught, but most self-respecting Wizards go to schools or colleges to learn how to cast spells and such. The second one¡­.¡± The Wizard hesitated a bit.

    ¡°Let me explain to you something first before I go on. The average humanoid has its own ley lines in the body. They work similar to the veins inside you. So once you link up with the magical ones below, your body¡¯s ley lines also become magical. Which allows us to use spells. The first option that I explained to you requires us Wizards to meditate, study, and slowly coax our bodies into naturally harnessing those ley lines of power.¡± He took a pause, as if he was debating whether to tell James.

    ¡°The second option¡­ Isn¡¯t so patient. The second option, the fastest, is to have a highly skilled shaman or Wizard imprint the runic spells you want onto your body. This is also much more painful and much more limiting. We Wizards can cast as many spells as we want, depending on our mental fortitude and how much we trained our body¡¯s natural ley lines. Those who use the second technique require a heavy tax from their body¡¯s underdeveloped ley lines and physical energy. Because of this, there is a limit to how many times you can cast a runic spell. For the first week or month, it varies. You¡¯ll only be able to cast one or two spells a day before your body¡¯s ley lines run dry and need to recover their lost energy through rest and substance. But, as time goes on and you cast more spells, your body¡¯s ley lines will slowly improve and grow, like a muscle. Do you understand?¡±

    James nodded slowly, going over the explanation through his head. Nathan¡¯s explanation of how magic worked was complicated, but James understood it, even if vaguely.

    ¡°Do you think you can link me up, then? Through one of those rituals?¡± He asked suddenly, surprising the Wizard and even catching Dahlia¡¯s attention.

    ¡°I can, but the ritual takes at least twelve hours. Possibly more or less, it varies between people.¡± The Wizard stepped forward, examining James, ¡°I can check to see if your body is any different, estimate what¡¯ll it take for you to get linked up¡­¡±

    With little of a warning, the Wizard reached to touch James¡¯ forehead, not giving the young man any time to react. Just as the spellcaster¡¯s finger made contact, the world turned sharp. James could feel his body react to whatever magic the Wizard was using, sending jolts throughout his entire being. Almost as if by impulse, his hand shot up, grabbing the spellcaster¡¯s hand. The connection broke as a result, leaving James feeling disoriented as he held onto the wrist of a very confused Wizard.

    ¡°Huh. Interesting,¡± Nathan commented. ¡°You¡¯re already linked up¡­ Yet there is no evidence of control over it. Very interesting.¡± Nathan raised an eyebrow, causing James to answer before Dahlia could.

    ¡°It¡¯s a very long story,¡± James explained. ¡°Best if you don¡¯t know about it.¡±

    The Wizard seemed unconvinced, but sighed. ¡°Fine, I won¡¯t ask. We don¡¯t really get many customers, and I will not risk our business because of something so trivial¡­ Still, you¡¯ll have to tell me someday.¡±

    ¡®Maybe when I find a better excuse and cover story¡­¡¯

    ¡°So¡­ if I¡¯m all linked up, can you give me that second option you talked about?¡± James asked shamelessly.

    ¡®Cause I¡¯m sure as hell ain¡¯t studying for years¡­¡¯

    James had barely got through high school and college that way, achieving most of his academic success through the help of Wikipedia and good intentions. If he couldn¡¯t get through college without extensive help and some cheating, then learning spells in this world was going to be nigh impossible.

    Nathan sighed. ¡°Sure¡­ But again, I have to warn you, it¡¯s really painful,¡± he reiterated, making sure James knew the cost of such a thing. ¡°Also, it¡¯ll run you about five gold coins per magical casting rune and two per physical casting rune.¡±

    ¡°Magical and Physical?¡± Jame asked, curious about the two types.

    ¡°Right¡­ hadn¡¯t delved into that. Well, magical casting runes are the fancy stuff. Fireballs, Ice Bolts, and the like. You have to form the rune to cast them, of course. Physical castings are something else. They mainly enhance or change your physical body with the help of magic. Power Strike, for example, uses the magical ley lines in your body to enhance your physical strength by ten folds for a couple of seconds, letting your strikes do some real damage. You can even cast these runes without forming them with your fingers.¡± Nathan shook his fingers for reference.

    ¡°Just focus your will and shout Power Strike while performing the action and it¡¯ll cast. Downside is that your body turns into a furnace while it¡¯s active, putting you at risk of a heat stroke, which is fatal. Carapace, another physical casting, is on the opposite end of that spectrum. It covers you in a protective layer, which strengthens your body and armor as if you were wearing steel, acting as a defense for a few hours. Again, like Power Strike, it also takes a toll on your body, but not as much in the long run.¡±

    James listened intently to the Wizard, taking mental notes.

    ¡®Power Strike. I remember seeing that casting back in Faust¡¯s memory. It really did a lot of damage.¡¯

    James imagined himself with that power, able to take on an abomination, not unlike the one he had fought last week.

    ¡®I¡¯ll be able to take one of those things out with one hit if I do it right¡­¡¯

    Just as James opened his mouth, however, Faust finally butted in.

    ¡®Take Carapace¡­¡¯ the spirit muttered.

    James raised an eyebrow, surprised that the dead man spoke up. ¡®Huh?¡¯

    ¡®Carapace. Take it. It¡¯ll keep you alive much longer than Power Strike¡­ and it won¡¯t floor you with the heat either. Believe me, judging from my memories. You won¡¯t be able to handle the Power Strike¡¯s toll.¡¯

    The spirit spoke with an informative voice, as if he was a teacher correcting his student. James sort of wanted to argue, since Power Strike sounded tantalizing, but the young man couldn¡¯t find any fault in his argument. He remembered back on that day of the raid, how he had been nearly killed by the abomination, how it had nearly gutted him. Even with his armor back then, James wouldn¡¯t have survived a full-powered strike from the creature, as even its kick nearly broke his ribs.

    ¡°Give me Carapace,¡± James chose, deciding to go with Faust¡¯s intuition.

    ¡°Alright, let me go get my tools for the job, be right back!¡± The Wizard turned and walked off to his corner, before rummaging through his chest once more. Dahlia approached James, pocketing a couple of freshly made vials into her belt.

    ¡°James, are you sure you want to go through with this?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Of course.¡± James was feeling a tinge of excitement as he watched Nathan stand up, a couple vials in hand, as well as a small pouch. Dahlia didn¡¯t seem to be particularly worried, but had given James a look that said: ¡®Are you really, really sure?¡¯

    ¡°Rune imprinting isn¡¯t really¡­ pleasant,¡± she whispered to James, just as the Wizard came back.

    ¡°Alright let¡¯s get started!¡± He announced. ¡°Just sit over here on this stool, and I¡¯ll get started on the imprinting. Also, you¡¯ll need to take off your armor and tunic.¡±

    As James headed towards the stool, he could feel himself taking in the possibilities of this being very painful.

    ¡®Maybe I should¡­¡¯ James started, but was interrupted by Faust.

    ¡®Don¡¯t be a child. Believe me. It¡¯ll hurt for a few seconds. At least that¡¯s what I heard¡­¡¯

    James was already regretting this. Regardless, he held his head high as he sat down, moving to take his armor and clothing off. By the time James¡¯ torso was bare, he could feel the eyes of everyone on him, making him shift uncomfortably in his chair.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s start with sterilizing the area.¡± The Wizard started by pouring a cold substance over Jame¡¯s back and arms, making him shiver. ¡°Stand up straight,¡± Nathan told James, who followed his words the best he could. The Wizard came into view, uncorking a second vial and pouring the clear liquid over his front torso. James had to try his best not to cough, as the stuff reeked of rubbing alcohol.

    ¡®It probably is¡­¡¯ James realized as he felt the liquid dry up. The Wizard produced a chalk-like stone, not unlike the one Dahlia used back at Yorktown. Without missing a beat, Nathan traced lines throughout James¡¯ body, chanting unintelligible words under his breath. In the end, James¡¯ torso was marked with symbols and runes, all of them covering every inch of his torso. The Wizard raised his hand at James before uttering a single word.

    ¡°Engrave.¡±

    The chalk suddenly lit up in blue flames, engulfing James into a split second of intense heat before it suddenly vanished in a quick whoosh.

    James was now panting, sweat forming on his brow as he looked down at his body. Nearly all the lines and complicated markings were gone. James¡¯ body was now marked by simple faint black lines and hollow shapes that interconnected across his chest and shoulders, possibly his back as well.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t so bad,¡± James commented, relieved.

    ¡°Oh no, that wasn¡¯t the rune imprinting process,¡± the Wizard revealed suddenly. ¡°That was just me setting up the framework.¡± Nathan grinned as he held a different-looking chalk stone in his hand, before he moved in to draw a symbol in one of the faint circles left behind from the framework. Once the rune was drawn, James¡¯ eyes widened in surprise.

    ¡°Wait what¡ª?¡±

    ¡°Inscribe Rune! Carapace!¡±

    James felt nothing but pain.

 B.2 Chapter 15: Drunken Draugr

    Helen watched as Haggard let out a satisfied sigh as he set down his tankard of mead, some of the honeyed liquid spilling out onto the bar.

    ¡°Ah¡­ Nothing quite like it¡­¡± He commented, grinning as he looked towards his shackled companion, who was boredly taking sips out of her small cup of water. They both had spent most of the evening trying to find mercs for hire and only succeeded with a couple of ¡®maybes.¡¯

    ¡°Why do I even bother helping you guys?¡± she asked rhetorically.

    ¡°Because if we fail, best-case scenario, you go back to jail,¡± Haggard reminded her.

    ¡°What¡¯s the worst case?¡± Helen inquired, looking at Haggard.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be a genius to figure that out,¡± he answered simply, taking a swig from his tankard.

    Helen sighed frustratingly. ¡°These are only mercs that are willing to help for cheap.¡± She evenly spaced out three of the cards those men left behind, their contact information scribbled on them.

    The first of them was a meathead who didn¡¯t really care for the money, only for the promise of fighting tough enemies. Helen could tell right away that he was too stupid to follow any orders or even fight properly. The second one seemed like an adventurer who had his job description mixed up. He was a young, stupid kid, nervous and willing to do anything for money. The third one seemed promising. He was a jackass but had seemed skilled enough and willing to fight for the low price.

    ¡®Still¡­ It feels like he¡¯s one of those cowards who runs at the first sign of real danger¡­¡¯

    Helen looked around the bustling tavern, eyeing the people around. She spotted her three candidates, who were all doing their own thing. The stupid one was challenging a much bigger man to a brawl, yelling incoherently at him. The youngest one was awkwardly drinking, doing his best to fit in with the rest of the rough-looking patrons. Finally, the last one was currently showing off his silver rapier to some unimpressed tavern wench, a stupid grin on his face.

    ¡°Idiots,¡± Helen commented, making a disgusted face. Even if they all were willing to work for as low as ten to twenty gold each, they were definitely not what Helen had in mind. She turned to Haggard, wanting to see if he had anything to say about them. But Haggard didn¡¯t seem to pay attention. He had his gaze on somewhere else, his eyes focused, and his smile faded.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Helen asked before following his gaze. In the corner, away from everyone else, sat a mercenary. At least, that¡¯s what Helen assumed. The man was dressed in partial leather and plate, the stained steel visible beneath the shawl he wore over his head and torso. His dark sleeves were rolled up, showing his pale skin and strange runic tattoo on his left arm. Scars accompanied his forearms while his gloves covered up his hands, which Helen didn¡¯t doubt had scars on them too. There was a short sword visible on his back, its strange hilt exposed.

    Still, despite these strange things, Helen didn¡¯t find them all that interesting. They were pretty common for a mercenary, as most of them did their best to distinguish themselves. The one thing that caught her attention was the man¡¯s mask. Under his dark hood, the man covered his face up with a white wooden mask, which had a huge wide toothy grin painted onto it, right under his two black eyeholes, which seemed to hold an infinite darkness. Helen recognized the mask. She had no doubts Haggard did, too. Very few people could ever forget the unique symbol of the Followers of Chaos.

    ¡°How long do you think he¡¯s been sitting there?¡± Helen asked. Haggard seemed to have lost his excited attitude, his expression serious and focused.

    ¡°He¡¯s been sitting there since we came into the tavern. I had only just spotted the mask,¡± Haggard replied in a whisper.

    Followers of Chaos were a very volatile type of people, Helen recalled. They were unpredictable, insane, and always showed up around times of crisis and war. They were rumored to be the sole causes for wars and disaster as a way to please their equally insane god, Myr. Still, the man they were looking at didn¡¯t seem to fit the bill of crazy. He even waved at them, aware that he was being stared at. Helen looked up at Haggard.

    ¡°What do you want to do?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Well¡­ He doesn¡¯t really seem all that bad,¡± Haggard started, rubbing his beard. Helen groaned at Haggard, looking back at the mysterious mercenary.

    ¡®Mercenary,¡¯ she echoed in her mind, an insane idea appearing in her mind. Although Helen had never met another Follower of Chaos, she had heard stories of their fighting prowess. They had gone toe to toe with Lumen Knights, Clan Warriors, and Holy Inquisitors. Maybe it wasn¡¯t too far removed to assume this one was no different, right?

    ¡°Haggard, let¡¯s talk with him,¡± Helen urged, nudging the bigger man.

    ¡°Are you crazy? Why?¡± Haggard asked, obviously more than a little uncomfortable at the idea of talking to the strange man. Helen explained her idea to Haggard, who shook his head in disagreement. Helen sighed before trying again with a different approach.

    ¡°If he agrees, he¡¯ll probably also be crazy enough to spar with you.¡± The words had barely left her lips before Haggard suddenly moved, his shackled wrist pulling her along for the ride.

    ¡°Then what are we waiting for?¡± he asked, his excitement returning to his voice.

    ¡®I swear. The first thing I¡¯m going to do when I get free¡­ Is to kill this fucking guy.¡¯ Helen thought, as she tried to keep up with Haggard.

    <hr>

    James rubbed his right shoulder, where the imprinted rune was located. The burning sensation underneath his tunic was finally fading away, to the relief of James.

    ¡°I warned you,¡± Dahlia said, an amused tone in her voice as she walked alongside James. They were back on the streets of Vindis, having paid the Wizard for imprinting the rune before they left.

    ¡°Yeah yeah,¡± James sighed, his breath coming out in small puffs. There was a fruity aftertaste on his tongue, which was something apparently all magic had, according to Dahlia. James could recall a similar scent back during the battle for Yorktown whenever he had breathed in the fog cloud spell Dahlia had summoned. The fog then had a different aftertaste, however, almost like raspberries. The one that James was experiencing was more akin to blackberries.

    ¡®I wonder if there is a spell that tastes like strawberries¡­¡¯

    James idly thought as he looked up at the sky. Nighttime was soon approaching, the clouds above the two darkening as the day ended.

    ¡®Looks like we won¡¯t be able to return to ship soon¡­¡¯

    James grimaced, remembering Seamus.

    ¡®He¡¯s fine.¡¯ Faust reassured. ¡®He can take care of himself without a problem.¡¯

    James felt guilty but took Faust¡¯s word. Although Seamus seemed like a coward, and occasionally acted like one, he was more than capable in the eyes of James and his companions.

    ¡°Do you know the way to the tavern?¡± James asked Dahlia, who was examining the signs and posts around the corners.

    ¡°Yup. Just need to turn down this street and¡­¡±

    Both of them turned a corner and into what looked like a wide alleyway, a few lanterns lighting the end of the path. James felt uneasy as he and Dahlia traversed the alley, his eyes examining the dark shadows and corners as he picked up his pace. Dahlia seemed to do the same, picking up speed as they moved towards the lantern¡¯s light. James stopped suddenly, Dahlia moving a few paces ahead before she stopped.

    ¡°James?¡± she asked. James ignored her, focusing on his hearing. He could hear blows landing on something, as well as the sound of someone speaking. He followed the noise to a much smaller alleyway they had passed earlier. James peeked into the alleyway, his eyes squinting through the dim light of the lanterns nearby.

    There was a gathering of four men, two of them standing back as one shook the other against the wall. No, he was punching the other man. James could hear his fists impacting against the other man¡¯s gut, causing the receiving end to cough out violently.

    ¡°Is that all you got?¡± the beaten man spat out, which prompted his attacker to punch him again.

    ¡°This is the fifth fucking time Dimitri! Where¡¯s that money you promised?¡± The attacker asked, out of breath as he picked up the man James assumed was Dimitri. He slammed the other man into the wall. ¡°I should just fucking kill you now. Save me the trouble of coming to find you every week. I¡¯m sure your corpse would reach a fair price with that necromancer on the far side of the city.¡±

    ¡°Bah! All talk. My body ain¡¯t worth shit. What makes you think a necromancer would have use for a drunk like me?¡±

    James could see how Dimitri¡¯s grin was bloody, staining his graying stubble. The other man grinned back. He pulled out a dagger, pulling his arm back as he readied for a stab.

    ¡°Let¡¯s find out then?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Hey!¡± James suddenly felt himself shout, stepping into the alleyway. He could feel Faust mentally cringe inside his head.

    ¡®You really have to stop stepping in,¡¯ the spirit commented.

    James ignored him, focusing his attention on the men in front of him. They all turned to look at him, confused looks on their faces.

    ¡°Back off, this isn¡¯t your fight,¡± one of them called out, a scar over his right eye.

    ¡°Really? Because it doesn¡¯t look very fair. Especially since you¡¯re not letting him fight back. What are you, a bunch of cowards?¡± James felt Faust react to his words.

    ¡®James¡­ I don¡¯t think you can take them¡­¡¯ the spirit muttered.

    ¡°What did you say?¡± One man asked, his bald head glinting in the light of the lanterns.

    ¡°I said you¡¯re a bunch of cowards! You want to come over here and prove me wrong?¡±

    ¡®I can¡¯t stop myself!¡¯

    James panicked mentally, despite his face remaining straight and serious. His adrenaline was running now, his words coming out faster than he could think and process.

    ¡°James¡­ what the fuck?!¡± Dahlia hissed behind the young man, reminding him he wasn¡¯t the only one in danger. Their assumed leader, the one who was beating down Dimitri, pointed his dagger at James and the shaman as he shouted at his men.

    ¡°What¡¯re the two of you standing around for? Markov said no witnesses, so take care of them!¡±

    The men reacted, the scarred one going after Dahlia while the bald man went for James. James reached for his short sword on his side, pulling it out of its makeshift cloth sheath as the man pulled out his own weapon, a long dagger with a curved edge.

    James barely had time to ready his stance before the man descended upon him, slashing at James. The young man backed and dodged as he held his sword in defense, using it to deflect most of the man¡¯s attacks. Still, James felt the cold bite of steel on his left arm, causing him to wince in pain as he tried to counterattack. The sword¡¯s attempted slash fell short, however, as the bald man dodged it, stepping away from James as he caught his breath.

    James rapidly thought of ways to fight the dagger-wielding man, thinking back to his training with Harald. He remembered the sparring session with Harald¡¯s trainees, specifically with the young man named Dirk. He had used a similar dagger, granted, not curved, but it was similar nonetheless.

    ¡®How did I counter him?¡¯

    James recalled how he had lost the first couple of times with Dirk, mainly because the young man was too fast for James to accurately defend against. He remembered why he had won the third time.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°Daggers are great for offense. Light, easy to maneuver, and you can wield two at the same time. The downside is you have to get very close to your opponent, and your dagger won¡¯t do shit for defense, since they¡¯re too small.¡±

    </blockquote>

    Harald¡¯s voice echoed through James¡¯ mind as he remembered the veteran¡¯s lesson. He took a quick glance at Dahlia, who was currently busy with the scarred man. The scarred man had his own dagger, but it seemed as if he was not as fast with his as Dahlia was with hers. James knew she could get out of her situation.

    ¡®The only question is¡­¡¯

    He turned to the bald man, who seemed to have caught his breath in the meantime.

    ¡®Can I get out of mine?¡¯

    James gripped his sword, remembering what Harald had commented on his fighting ability.

    ¡°God awful defense¡­ but a good offense,¡± he whispered, recalling the old veteran¡¯s words.

    ¡°What are you on about¡ª?¡± His opponent asked before James rushed at him. The young man slashing at the dagger-wielder, cutting cloth and air as he swung his short sword. The bald man barely dodged the attacks, pieces of his shirt and shawl getting sliced off as James slashed. James tried for a stab, lunging forward at the bald man.

    The man still somehow dodged James¡¯ blade, which barely cut through his clothing and shoddy chain mail.

    ¡®Dammit! Too slow!¡¯

    James turned to redirect his blade at the bald man. The man tried to use his dagger to deflect his blow, but missed his chance when James slammed the flat end of the blade against his side. James had swung the sword as if it was a baseball bat, confusing both the bald man and his friends. Even Faust seemed befuddled.

    ¡®Where did you learn that technique?¡¯ the spirit asked, astounded.

    ¡®Little league baseball,¡¯ James answered a split second later. The force of the blow sent the bald man stumbling back, his feet moving to keep his balance. The young man didn¡¯t let him regain it. James screamed as he tackled the bald man, dropping his sword as he slammed him against the wall nearby.

    James felt his shoulder impact the man¡¯s chest, whose lungs made a whooshing sound as his air was knocked out. Still, James could see how he tried to fight back, so he countered. Taking a note from Faust, James punched the bald man at the side of his skull, sending him dropping to the ground. The asshole wouldn¡¯t stay down, however, as he tried for a desperate lunge with his dagger.

    Thankfully, James dodged the attack by mere centimeters, his hands moving to grab at the man¡¯s hand. Both men struggled with the dagger, with James being forced onto the ground. The young blond man used most of his strength to redirect the blade into the ground, making it stab into the platform below. He used the opening to grab at the bald head of his opponent, hoping to push him away.

    As soon as James¡¯ fingers touched the man¡¯s head, however, there was a sudden jolt of electricity, like one would get when they were shocked by static. Except multiplied by ten. Both men recoiled back quickly, with James grabbing at his head from the sudden migraine that came out of nowhere. He felt an influx of adrenaline rush into his body, making his hands shake slightly. James looked back at the bald man, who was suffering from a similar condition.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    The young man looked down at the nearby dagger, which was within reach for both men. The bald man seemed to notice it as well. James quickly moved in, stopping the other man before he had the chance to grab his dagger. James¡¯ fist made contact with the bastard¡¯s jaw, sending him back onto the ground. The young man stumbled from his imbalanced punch before falling onto the platform.

    Panting heavily, he kicked the dagger away from reach, catching his breath as he went down on one knee.

    ¡®What the hell was that?¡¯

    He willed for his hands to stop shaking, his eyes focused on his fallen opponent. James thankfully knocked him unconscious, as the bald man¡¯s breathing was slow and rhythmic.

    ¡®Did you feel that?¡¯ James asked Faust. Before the spirit could answer, however, James¡¯ attention was shifted towards a shout.

    ¡°Look out!¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice rang out.

    The young man raised his head to see the leader of the trio a mere couple of feet away, a dagger aimed at James. In the split second that passed, James realized he couldn¡¯t do anything. His sword was out of reach, his lungs burning from exertion, and his throat exposed. He couldn¡¯t even use his new physical casting, as the Wizard had instructed him to wait twelve hours before he could cast it.

    ¡®Am I going to die?¡¯ James asked in that split second, watching as the dagger drew close and closer.

    Suddenly, the world shifted around James. Literally. James felt the ground beneath him shift suddenly to the side, forcing both him and the attacker to fall over on their sides.

    ¡®What¡¯s happening?¡¯ James asked Faust, who seemed just as clueless.

    ¡®Fuck if I know! Just grab your sword!¡¯

    James moved his head to search for his sword, his eyes finally finding and focusing on the blade, which slid away. Luckily enough, James grabbed it in time. His hand gripped onto the hilt tightly, pulling the sword to him as the ground shifted back to normal. The attacker wasn¡¯t so lucky, as his dagger slid away too far for him to grab at it. He still tried to scramble for it, desperately reaching for the weapon before James stomped on his hand.

    ¡°Agh!¡± the man exclaimed in agony. The man looked up at James, his anger soon turning to fear as he came face to face with the tip of James¡¯ sword.

    ¡°Stop right there, asshole,¡± James panted, still out of breath.

    Dahlia came up right next to him, out of breath as well.

    ¡°Those other guys seem knocked out,¡± she managed before punching James¡¯ arm. Hard. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you? You couldn¡¯t at least warn me you were going to do something so stupid?!¡± She was understandably pissed. James turned to speak to the shaman, but was interrupted by someone laughing.

    ¡°Ha! Fucking asshole! That¡¯s what you get!¡± It was the man called Dimitri, his hands wiping the blood from his mouth as he stumbled his way to the pinned attacker. He kicked at the downed man, spitting a glob of bloody saliva at him before kicking him one more time for good measure. Dimitri slowly caught his breath, wheezing as he bent over. The former attacker winced in pain from the hits before yelling out in anger,

    ¡°You won¡¯t get away next time, Dimitri! Markov will have your corpse hanged if you don¡¯t¨C¡±

    ¡°Oh, just shut up,¡± the shaman interrupted tiredly.

    The man looked up at her, anger twisting his face as he shouted.

    ¡°You both haven¡¯t an idea who you¡¯re messing with! You both¡ª!¡±

    He was silenced by Dahlia, who knocked him out with a well-placed kick to the head.

    ¡°Thank you¡­¡± Dimitri panted out, spitting more blood onto the ground. ¡°Fucking asshole.¡± The beaten man stood up straight, letting James get a better view of him. Through the bruises and blood, James guessed that the man was in his early to late fifties, as he had a graying goatee and stubble, despite his jet black hair. ¡°Thank the gods for that rogue wave, otherwise things would have ended badly for you, young man¡­¡±

    James blinked, recalling the sudden shift in the ground.

    ¡®Rogue wave¡­ Huh...¡¯

    James was then reminded that Vindis wasn¡¯t a normal city and that it was a floating settlement supported by multiple floating platforms. So a rogue wave disturbing a platform or two didn¡¯t seem at all far-fetched.

    ¡®Saved again by luck,¡¯ James thought bitterly. He was more than a little bothered by the fact that he had only survived because of dumb luck instead of by his own ability.

    ¡®One day that¡¯s going to change.¡¯

    He looked back at Dimitri, who seemed to catch his breath again.

    ¡°Seriously, thanks. To the both of you. I really don¡¯t know how to pay you back for all of this¡­¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to,¡± James responded, but Dimitri waved him off.

    ¡°Nonsense! I owe you one friend¡­ uh¡­¡±

    ¡°James.¡±

    ¡°Friend James! You truly saved my ass here, you and your beautiful girlfriend here!¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­.¡±

    ¡°Please, I beg of you to let me repay your kindness. Let me just think¡­ uh¡­ do you have anything you need? I can do my best to meet your needs.¡±

    James seriously thought about the offer, his mind wandering. ¡°Well¡­ we¡¯re not really not going to be any longer since we need to sail off somewhere tomorrow...¡±

    Dimitri¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Sail? Do you have your own ship?¡± He asked.

    James nodded slowly. ¡°Yes, but¨C¡±

    ¡°Then let me help! I was on contract for quite a few ships before I ended up on Vindis. I can captain your crew and guide them!¡±

    ¡°Well, we don¡¯t really have a crew¡­¡±

    ¡°Ah! Even better! I can gather my old crew up. They¡¯ve been itching for a contract for years! I swear, they¡¯re the best Vindis can offer you!¡± Dimitri¡¯s enthusiasm and excitement made it hard for James to put off his proposal. He looked towards Dahlia for guidance. She seemed hesitant as well.

    ¡°It would help us a lot. Put a little less strain on Seamus and the rest. As for our budget¡­¡± She hesitated to elaborate.

    ¡°Do not worry about the price, my friends. I can convince my old crew to work for cheap. I doubt they¡¯ll turn down work after years of nothing. Please, let me make it up for you,¡± the drunkard assured them both.

    James sighed before finally nodding. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll think about it. Tomorrow at the harbor towards the south, there¡¯s a ship there named Frostbite. Bring your crew, and we¡¯ll discuss payment, alright?¡±

    Dimitri¡¯s face lit up, his hand moving to slap James on the shoulder. ¡°Good! I will assemble my crew for tomorrow. I wish the best for you friend James!¡± Dimitri gave one last kick to the man below him before he walked off, whistling terribly as he stumbled around. James stared at the sight, unsure of what to make of his situation.

    ¡°Tell me you saw what I saw,¡± James said to Dahlia, who seemed to be in a similar state of awe.

    ¡°I was going to ask you the same thing¡­¡±

    <hr>

    Helen stared at the strange card that the mercenary left behind. It was clean, with golden filigrees lining the edges of the white material. Yet, despite the fanciness, there was no information, no name, not even any words. Instead, there was a crudely drawn grin and dot eyes, similar to the mask he had worn. The strange man had told them he cared little for the price, only for how interesting the job was. Helen had told him she herself didn¡¯t really know much, other than that they promised her freedom as long as she navigated the ship and was kept under watch by Haggard.

    The stranger had found her situation amusing and told them he would take the job for as low as ten gold pieces as long as he was part of the action. Helen agreed, and the man had left, leaving his card for her. That left her where she was now, staring at a strange card as Haggard drank some more.

    ¡°So¡­ who are we hiring?¡± Haggard asked, setting down his tankard. Helen sighed and pocketed the card.

    ¡°Well, that guy is definitely a front runner, despite his¡­ oddities. As for the rest.¡± She furrowed her brow. ¡°I guess we can afford them all. All together, we¡¯ll only have to spend about fifty gold pieces.¡±

    ¡°So, an entire crew of mercenaries?¡± Haggard asked before Helen added,

    ¡°More like a disjointed group of weirdos.¡±

    ¡°So, like our group?¡± Haggard chuckled.

    Helen groaned at that. She hated to admit it, but Haggard was right. Their current group had oddballs of their own. There was the strange blond man James, who seemed to emit a sort of wrongness about him, that coward Seamus Halvorson, who somehow thinks that Helen doesn¡¯t remember him, those two nameless, silent type assholes, and this drunken idiot who was shackled to her. The shaman seemed the most normal out of all of them.

    ¡®Don¡¯t forget yourself. The marauder who couldn¡¯t bring herself to kill one simple man.¡¯

    That small voice in the back of her head whispered. Helen gritted her teeth in frustration, grabbing at Haggard¡¯s new tankard of mead and downing the golden liquid. She nearly spat the drink out, still not entirely used to honeyed mead.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Haggard exclaimed. Helen didn¡¯t care for the drunk, forcing herself to take another swig before that annoying small voice came back.

    <hr>

    James leaned back in his chair, groaning tiredly. ¡°So... That¡¯s what happened,¡± he voiced, as he had just finished up explaining his side of the story. James was currently at a table in the tavern called ¡®The Drunken Draugr¡¯ along with Dahlia, Haggard, and a very drunk Helen. It had been a couple of hours since his interaction with Dimitri.

    ¡°That¡¯s quite some story,¡± Haggard commented, raising his tankard above his head as Helen tried to reach for it. ¡°Helen and I recruited a group of four mercenaries¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stupid ones¡­¡± the drunk woman commented before finally succeeding in taking the tankard from the surprised man, mead spilling as she quickly chugged it down.

    Haggard groaned, tried to take the tankard back, failed, and soon gave up. ¡°I haven¡¯t been able to get a swig in since she started,¡± Haggard pointed out, sighing tiredly.

    ¡°How much are they going to cost us?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°Fifty gold,¡± Helen drunkenly stated.

    ¡°Fifty? For a group?¡± Dahlia seemed worried. ¡°Are they skilled?¡±

    ¡°Define skilled,¡± Helen prompted, taking a break from her drinking. ¡°I¡¯m willing to bet half will die before they even leave Vindis,¡± Helen snorted in morbid amusement before she drank again.

    ¡®She definitely has some problems¡­¡¯ James noticed.

    ¡®Agreed.¡¯ Faust added.

    Dahlia furrowed her brow. ¡°You couldn¡¯t get at least one or two very skilled ones?¡±

    ¡°Do you know how difficult it is to find a skilled mercenary willing to work for eighty gold pieces, with little to no information about their new job, and must be able to leave on the morrow?¡± The drunk woman asked, raising an eyebrow at the shaman. ¡°It¡¯s not fucking easy, I tell you¡­ Not to mention that tonight is a slow night in this tavern.¡± Helen resumed drinking, leaving Dahlia visibly agitated by the woman¡¯s response.

    James turned to the rest of the tavern, watching as the patrons got rowdier by the second.

    ¡®If this is a slow night, then I probably don¡¯t want to come by on happy hour.¡¯

    James watched as some guy, dwarf judging from his size and build, got lifted and thrown across the room. James instinctively flinched when the drunk crashed nearby, breaking a table right next to them. The dwarf groaned, obviously concussed.

    ¡°Guess that makes it a group of three mercenaries,¡± Haggard commented.

    ¡°That was one of them?¡± James asked, surprised.

    ¡°Yup,¡± Helen answered after taking a peek. ¡°No matter, he was only going to come so he can fight the ¡®biggest¡¯ and ¡®baddest¡¯ monster he can find with his bare hands. Probably for the best that he stays in a coma,¡± she finished, raising the tankard to her lips before realizing it was empty. She sighed, placed it down, and reached for James¡¯ tankard.

    The young man pulled it before she had a chance to grab it, however.

    ¡°No way I¡¯m letting you drink any more. Besides, I ordered cider.¡± James watched as disappointment showed on the ex-marauder¡¯s face before she tried to grab Dahlia¡¯s drink.

    ¡°No chance,¡± Dahlia commented, pulling her tankard away as she shook her head.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± Helen cursed before trying to wave over a nearby tavern wench. ¡°Hey! More mead!¡± She called in a drunken stupor. Haggard sighed, drained of his usual enthusiasm.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take her outside, see if the cold night can calm her senses.¡± Haggard waved off the tavern wench before picking Helen up as she drunkenly tried to fight back, to no avail.

    ¡°Hey! What¡¯re you doing? Put me down!¡± Helen shouted at Haggard, who carried her as if she weighed nothing. James watched, hiding his amusement as Helen did her best to grab the other patron¡¯s drinks, Haggard apologizing as he pulled her away and out the doors of The Drunken Draugr.

    James sighed as the pair left, taking a sip of his cider as Dahlia let out a breath of relief.

    ¡°She really has some problems to work on,¡± the shaman commented, crossing her arms as she sat back. Dahlia¡¯s eyes focused on James as he glanced at her, cider in hand. ¡°You¡¯re bleeding through your bandages,¡± she pointed out, sitting up as she took James¡¯ left arm, nearly spilling his drink. James watched as she pulled back his gray sleeve, revealing his bandaged forearm. She had tended to it after their scuffle in the alleyway, wrapping it up quickly before anyone else showed up.

    ¡°I wish we didn¡¯t have to leave so soon. Otherwise, my bandage work wouldn¡¯t be so sloppy,¡± Dahlia muttered as she unwrapped the gauze, showing James¡¯ long cut across his forearm. There were also scars on his arm resembling bite marks, a memory from when James had fought with wolves back at Yorktown.

    Dahlia reached into her belt, pulling out her ointment and a vial. She cleaned the wound with a napkin from the table before uncorking the vial. James recognized the smell as the same one from that liquid the Wizard poured onto his torso.

    ¡®Rubbing alcohol¡­¡¯ James recalled from his thoughts.

    He winced as Dahlia poured the stuff into his wound.

    ¡®Yup, definitely rubbing alcohol,¡¯ James concluded, watching as the shaman grabbed her ointment, opening it up and rubbing her fingers in it.

    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot, by the way,¡± Dahlia commented idly as she applied the ointment. ¡°I feel as if I don¡¯t let you know that often since you keep putting yourself at risk.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s worked out for us every time,¡± James responded as grabbed his tankard with his right hand, sipping out of it as Dahlia worked. His comment earned a look from the shaman.

    ¡°James¡­ Luck doesn¡¯t run forever. You might think at first that you¡¯re unstoppable because you avoid death and gain friends, but eventually, fate will catch up to you. No matter who you are. At some point, fate will balance the scales, and the ones who rely on luck will be hit the hardest,¡± Dahlia reminded James. She sighed as she finished applying the ointment, pocketing it and the vial before she took out a roll of gauze.

    ¡°I¡¯ve already lost enough as it is. The idea of losing you, Seamus... Haggard¡­ Even Harald and Felix. I doubt I¡¯ll be able to handle it.¡± Dahlia kept her eyes downcast as she wrapped up the bandages on James¡¯ arm. James did not know the shaman was carrying this weight, nor was he aware of how worried she was.

    He placed a hand on hers as she finished wrapping the gauze, her soft amber eyes looking up at him as he gave her a reassuring smile.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best not to get killed again, alright?¡± James assured her.

    The shaman smiled back. ¡°Good¡­ I¡¯d hate to redo the ritual again and have you stuck with three voices inside your head.¡±

    ¡°Hey! It¡¯s bad enough I have Faust in here,¡± James joked.

    ¡®Hey!¡¯

    Both James and Dahlia laughed a bit, the tension in the air broken as they chuckled, then giggled, before falling silent again. Their eyes locked. James could feel his heart beating audibly into his ear, his hand gently squeezing Dahlia¡¯s hand as he felt himself lean a little forward. He noticed how she did the same, her soft amber eyes closing as she leaned, her lips parting ever so slightly.

    Suddenly, they were interrupted by the sound of someone flopping onto the table. It was Helen, drunk and asleep as she mumbled incoherently. Haggard stood nearby, panting as water dripped from his soaked clothes. James shot up in surprise.

    ¡°What the fuck?!¡± he exclaimed, confused to all hell.

    ¡°What¡­ What happened?¡± Dahlia asked, standing up. ¡°You were only gone for a few minutes!¡± James noticed how Helen was soaked as well, smelling of seaweed.

    ¡°This fucking woman decided that she wanted to go for a little swim in the canal nearby¡­ While shackled to me!¡± Haggard breathed out. James had never seen Haggard tired, not even after the Siege of Yorktown. ¡°We almost didn¡¯t make it,¡± Haggard revealed. ¡°The canal¡¯s waters threatened to rip my arms off. Had to use a physical casting to make it out with this idiot!¡± He gestured towards the woman.

    ¡°Dahlia¡­ the key, please,¡± Haggard pleaded.

    The shaman blinked before nodding. ¡°Sure,¡± she responded, rummaging through one of her pouches before taking out a small key, giving it to Haggard.

    The drifter unlocked his shackle without hesitation, panting, before he gave the key back to Dahlia.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to get a room upstairs. You can take care of her, Dahlia,¡± Haggard said before walking off to the bar.

    James looked at the shaman, who looked as he felt. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll get a room for me and her. Make sure she doesn¡¯t escape. You should probably go with Haggard.¡± Dahlia moved to shackle the woman¡¯s other wrist before standing her up and dragging her off. Helen spoke out as this happened.

    ¡°Getting excited, are we? At least buy me a drink first,¡± she drunkenly announced, snort laughing as she did so.

    James sighed, walking off to join Haggard as he finished paying for his room for the night before he headed upstairs. They both arrived at their room, opening it to find a single wide bed.

    Haggard groaned. ¡°This just keeps getting better and better,¡± he commented as he walked to the bed before flopping onto one side. James sighed as he closed the door, getting comfortable as he kicked off his boots and undid his armor.

    By the time James was on his side of the bed, doing his best to ignore Haggard¡¯s stench, he thought about the shaman. Constantly.

    ¡®Can you please stop? Think of literally anything else¡­ It¡¯s getting boring whenever you think about the shaman. I¡¯ve already seen all of your memories of her,¡¯ Faust complained.

    ¡®Have you been snooping around in my memories again?¡¯ James asked mentally. There was a long pause.

    ¡®No...¡¯ the spirit lied.

    ¡®Dammit, Faust!¡¯ James sighed frustratingly.

    ¡®What? It gets boring up here, alright? There¡¯s not much to do besides watch your recent memories and old ones... I have to pass the time,¡¯ Faust admitted,

    James sighed in frustration, but didn¡¯t argue. Faust had a point. James couldn¡¯t imagine what it was like being stuck in that mindscape twenty-four-seven. It must¡¯ve been torture.

    ¡®Damn right it is¡­¡¯ Faust commented, reminding the young man that he was literally in his thoughts. James groaned, turning on his side. He hoped he would get to sleep soon, so he could stop thinking about how Helen had potentially ruined his night.

 Interlude: Frosts Bite

    The clouds that blanketed the night sky were broken, allowing the stars and partial moonlight to shine onto the snow-covered ground, making it sparkle and glisten under the pale blue shine. It resembled that of a priceless art piece, one that was almost too beautiful to destroy. Almost.

    Suddenly, many feet broke the soft-looking white powder, all of them running in desperation. The ones responsible for the destruction were none other than feral goblins, their small yellow eyes wide with fear as they pushed past each other. One goblin, a male by the name of Urk, was in the lead. He was lucky enough to outrun the others, as he was the first one out of their pack to spot that thing. He was also extraordinarily lucky to avoid tripping or faltering his sprint throughout the forest, which earned him a spot in the lead.

    Still, Urk wasn¡¯t sure if he could truly outrun that thing. The creature he had seen was unnatural, to where he had suspected it to be a nightmare.

    ¡®A cruel and horrible nightmare¡­¡¯

    He had hoped these last few minutes were part of a bigger, much terrible nightmare. Unfortunately for Urk, it was not. He risked a glance at his fellow goblins, watching how the remaining ones were frantically screaming and shouting for help from Urk.

    ¡®Stupid stupid! Wasting their breath shouting and not enough in running!¡¯

    As much as he wanted to answer their cries and pleas, Urk couldn¡¯t help. The abomination that was after them had swiftly taken out the ones who lagged for even a second. Urk wasn¡¯t about to risk it, no matter what.

    The goblin kept running for a few more minutes, hoping to all hope that he would arrive at the cave.

    ¡®We can take the creature down if the whole tribe works together! Just need to get to cave!¡¯

    Urk heard another one of his pack mates fall, Frey, judging from his screaming voice. The sound of flesh ripping soon cut the goblin¡¯s screech off. Urk didn¡¯t dare look back. Another fell, Stiks from the sound of his voice, his crying snuffed out as quickly as he started begging. Urk heard the telltale sounds of guts being eviscerated. The goblin didn¡¯t dare look back. He heard Olga fall, her sobbing nearly stopping Urk¡¯s run.

    ¡®Olga! No¡­.¡¯

    Urk heard how Grem stopped to help her.

    ¡®No no no¡­¡¯

    ¡°I got you!¡± Grem called, before he suddenly screamed. The goblin heard both Olga¡¯s and Grems¡¯ calls for help and mercy cut off suddenly, replaced by the horrible sounds of death. Urk shut his eyes, but it only made it worse as the sounds grew louder and much more pronounced. Urk didn¡¯t dare look back.

    After running for what seemed like an eternity, Urk finally arrived at the cave. He slammed his fists against the shoddy wooden palisade.

    ¡°Open! Please! Danger! Big danger!¡± He cried out, slamming so hard and fast against the gate that he was certain that his hands were going to be bloody pulps in no time. Suddenly, the gate was pulled open and Urk fell forward, crawling quickly and fearfully into the cave¡¯s solace.

    ¡°Close the gate now! Now!¡± He shouted as he moved to force the gate closed. Once closed, Urk felt his lungs burning from the freezing air, despite the sweat forming on his bald head. The other goblins looked at him, confused and fearful.

    ¡°Urk? What happened? Where rest of pack?¡± One of them asked, setting his spear aside as he went to support the panicking goblin.

    Urk blinked, realizing that none of his friends had survived the encounter. Urk felt like crying, his eyes watering as he tried to come up with words about what happened.

    ¡°We came across remains of lost goblins,¡± he explained, recalling how they were looking for the lost hunters and gatherers. There, Urk and his pack had found remains of goblins, crystallized and blackened. Urk wasn¡¯t sure what to make of it, but he had no time to investigate further before he had seen it. The thing that had hunted them, throughout the small island and its forest.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°It tore through Kurn and Dorph like bear¡­ but much worse,¡± Urk recalled, shivering.

    ¡°Much worse than bear? What is it?¡± Dek asked, confused.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ but it was much faster¡­ much stronger¡­ Killed everyone in pack. Frey, Stiks, Grem, Olga¡­¡± Urk trailed off. He wanted to vomit, to cry, and to curl up into a ball. ¡°It gutted them like fish! And I couldn¡¯t do anything!¡±

    The other goblins shared a look of concern and worry, unsure of themselves. Suddenly, there was a knocking at the palisade¡¯s gates, causing everyone to jump. They all stared at the gate, confusion settling before a voice rang out.

    ¡°Urk! Anyone?! Help!¡± It was Frey¡¯s voice, frantic.

    The goblins all looked at Urk, whose green skin seemed to go pale.

    ¡°I-Impossible¡­ I heard him die!¡±

    The knocking only grew even more frantic, another voice calling out.

    ¡°There¡¯s a bear out here! Let us in!¡± It was Stik¡¯s voice.

    ¡°We need help!¡± Grem¡¯s voice now butted in, causing all the goblins to murmur and look at Urk. Urk tried to explain, but his throat went dry when another voice called out.

    ¡°Urk? Why did you leave us?! We needed you!¡± It was Olga¡¯s voice. Urk was at his breaking point.

    ¡°No! NO! That¡¯s not possible! You¡¯re all supposed to be dead! Dead!¡± He was panicking, freaking out, as he reached for a nearby spear. The other goblins stopped him, holding him down as he screamed in terror. ¡°It¡¯s that thing! It¡¯s not my pack! We have to kill it!¡± He was fighting his fellow friends, trying to get away.

    ¡°Urk! You¡¯ve gone crazy!¡± One of them shouted. ¡°Dek! Open the gate up with Fran! We have to save them!¡± The other goblins voiced their agreements, moving to hold Urk down as the rest opened up the gate.

    ¡°No no no! Please listen to me! We all die if you open that gate, Dek! Please! No!¡± Urk¡¯s cries were unheard as the two goblins opened up the gate, which creaked loudly as it was forced to the side.

    Darkness swept through the cave as a freezing gust of wind snuffed out the torches. Despite the lack of light, Urk could see in the darkness. His eyes widened as he watched a dark, unnaturally shaped creature step through the open gates, its many many eyes glowing a burning blue as it spoke.

    ¡°Thank you for saving me¡­¡± Its voice was a horrible mix of Urk¡¯s pack¡¯s voices, along with some others. Urk no longer felt any need to fight back anymore, his body going limp as he stared in horror and despair. Without mercy, the abomination descended on everyone with a mixture of sharp teeth and razor-like crystals.

    <hr>

    The cave was nearly silent, the sound of something dripping disturbing the ambiance of the cave now and then. The source of the dripping was from the end of the cave, where a hulking abomination rested. Blood ran down its surroundings, some of it from the walls and stalagmites from the roof of the cave. The abomination stirred, now much bigger than it had been mere hours ago. Its many eyes opened up, glowing as they examined the area. This was a pleasant spot, it mused, knowing that it needed it for hibernation.

    ¡®Still¡­ The other island was a much better spot.¡¯ one voice in its head commented.

    Another voice piped up, raspy, as it spoke out loud, ¡°Yes¡­ the humans on that island would¡¯ve made delightful hosts. But I quite like the goblins. They¡¯re so stupid. They don¡¯t fight back like our last host¡­¡±

    A third voice suddenly made itself known. ¡®Or like him¡­ The outlander.¡¯

    The creature growled in anger, thrashing its huge crystallized arm at a nearby rock, smashing it. The voices all hissed at the mention of him.

    ¡°James Holter,¡± it growled.

    A deep voice then boomed, shutting them all up.

    ¡°He is no threat. Both him and that spirit have no clue of their potential. Not like us. We will have our revenge one day. We just need to build our mass and grow. Within a month¡­ we will find him, kill him, and use his body as fodder for our growth.¡±

    The other voices voiced their agreements, all of them eager to take revenge on the man who had denied them their host and rightful food.

    James Holter and Faust Desimir would pay for their interference.

 B.2 Chapter 16: Setting Sail

    The distant light of the sun signified the start of dawn, painting the grayish clouds in a beautiful orange shade and merging with the dark purple sky visible behind the blanket of clouds.

    ¡°Beautiful as always,¡± Gryff commented as he watched the morning begin for this new day. He sighed, closing his eyes as he breathed in the cold air. ¡°Time to get to work.¡±

    Gryff turned to his men nearby, the royal soldiers he had specifically chosen back in Yorktown. They were picked out by the cryomancer, for they had some level of intelligence and book learning under their belts. Gryff was sure he probably wouldn¡¯t need them, but he didn¡¯t become a Lumen Knight from being unprepared. He started his way to the edge of town, wanting to examine the locations of the initial anomaly. Gryff could feel his curiosity bursting at the thought of studying it in person, especially since he had to spend the previous day asking questions and investigating the burnt town for anything strange. Of course, he found nothing odd, which was expected.

    Before long, Gryff finally made it to the edge of town and the small path leading up through the forest ahead. The cryomancer and his group trekked through the snowy and rough path, some men even having to catch their breaths before continuing on. Finally, after some time, they had reached the fork in the path.

    ¡°Two of you take the right path. You, you will come with me,¡± Gryff ordered, the men quickly moving to follow his orders. They split up, each of the two-man groups heading off on different paths. Gryff and his follower continued onto this path for another while before the royal soldier spoke up.

    ¡°Sir, if I may ask¡­ What are we doing?¡± he asked, understandably confused. Gryff sighed, wanting to berate the man for being clueless. Then again, the young soldier had never gotten briefed by the knight about their aim, so it was understandable that he was clueless about the whole thing, despite following his orders to the best of his ability. Gryff granted the soldier some leniency.

    ¡°We¡¯re here to investigate an anomaly in the ley lines that showed up a week ago,¡± Gryff briefly explained. ¡°Right now, we¡¯re looking for signs of the breach that started it all. According to the high council back at Lumen City, it¡¯s somewhere on this island.¡± Gryff turned his head to glance at the young man next to him, but something else caught the spellcaster¡¯s eyes.

    He slowed his walk a bit, focusing on the movement that he had caught in his peripherals. There was a white raven in the branches of the trees nearby, its white feathers and pale blue eyes contrasting from its kind around it. It watched the two men, almost as if in judgment.

    ¡®Strange, I never knew white ravens were a thing,¡¯ Gryff thought momentarily before the soldier right next to him spoke up once more.

    ¡°I have one more question, sir. How are we going to find it?¡± The soldier asked suddenly. Gryff broke his attention away from the unique raven, holding back a laugh at the soldier¡¯s expense, besides having his amusement clear on his face.

    ¡°Leave that to me. Just let me know if you find anything strange.¡±

    The two stopped in their tracks, standing before a shoddy hut up ahead, snow built up on its steep roof. It was a unique hut that Gryff had ever seen a few times in his life. Either hermits or crazed shamans usually built them.

    ¡®It probably belongs to that woman who left with James Holter¡­ She seemed like the type to dip her toes in dark rituals, judging from her tattoos¡­¡¯

    Gryff walked up to the hut, examining its exterior.

    ¡°Soldier, examine the area around here. See if you can find anything,¡± he ordered.

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± the royal soldier responded, running off as Gryff headed to the hut¡¯s door to open it up. Although, despite pushing against the door, it refused to open.

    Gryff raised an eyebrow, wondering if there was a lock. Before he could call for the young man to come and help break it down, the sight of something shimmering caught his eye. He stopped, looking up at the frame of the door. Squinting, Gryff spotted red runic symbols bordering the door, glowing softly.

    ¡°Security runes¡­ Smart,¡± the spellcaster acknowledged before he raised his hand at the door. ¡°Unfortunately, security runes haven¡¯t been able to stop me for the last several years.¡± He focused his body¡¯s ley lines to converge, feeling his mind signal his body as he spoke out the activation words for his spell. ¡°Dispel.¡±

    The runes brightened to a small amount before effectively fizzling out in a blink of an eye. The door creaked open. Gryff pushed the rest of it open before stepping into the hut. It was much roomier than what he had initially thought. Most of the clutter was contained near the corners and walls. Gryff looked around the dark hut, squinting through the dim light before he brought up his right hand. He snapped his fingers.

    ¡°Candlelight,¡± he muttered before a small orb of light materialized out of nowhere, lighting up the dark hut. Gryff summoned another one and sent both orbs to opposite sides of the hut, lighting the place up nicely. The cryomancer examined the hut, seeing how messy the woman here had lived. He saw stacked dirty bowls, scattered clothing, chalk marks haphazardly drawn onto the walls. Gryff even saw what looked like signs of a fight here, with knife marks on the table and a half-broken chair. He spotted three cots around the place as well, signifying that she hadn¡¯t lived alone. Gryff poked through each of the cots, looking for anything interesting.

    The first cot was neat, and lay near the corner, next to a chest full of odd items. Looking through the chest, Gryff found a small journal, another security rune inscribed on its cover.

    ¡°Curious. Dispel.¡± The cryomancer watched the small rune fizzle out weakly, signifying that it was a rather weaker one than its counterpart from outside. He flipped through the pages, his eyes scanning over the words and the runic symbols. His finger stopped at a page, which described something curious. Yet, it was useless. Gryff closed the journal, tossing it back in the chest, which was full of more junk that had little interest to them. The journal itself detailed nothing suspicious, but it did reveal something quite interesting about the shaman and her past.

    ¡°A royal soldier¡­¡± Gryff recalled the records back in the town hall, how they had detailed a Lumen presence at Yorktown during the Outsider Wars. He now knew why one of those men had stayed behind when his fellow soldiers had evacuated. ¡°Still, it doesn¡¯t really answer much.¡± Gryff shrugged as he moved on.

    The second cot seemed fairly clean, despite the blanket not being tucked in right and the pillow haphazardly balancing near the edge. It did not surprise Gryff to find nothing tucked nearby this cot. Gryff moved to the third cot, before making a disgusted face. It was filthy; the blankets strewn around it with a care in the world; the pillow abused as it sported a wilted corner.

    ¡®Did someone chew on this?¡¯ Gryff mentally asked himself, deciding to keep away from that spot. He searched carefully, looking for anything. His eyes soon caught a glint of something hidden on the other side, covered by another blanket. Gryff reached for it, pulling out to examine it.

    It was a silver urn, almost perfectly intact despite a couple of scratches and scuff marks. Gryff examined the urn, feeling a strange presence about it. It was the same one that man James emitted. A wrong and foreign feeling that screamed ¡®I don¡¯t belong here¡¯. Yet, it also felt as if it had always been a part of this world, just like any other ordinary urn or vase.

    ¡°What the hel?¡± Gryff muttered. He opened the urn, peeking into it. It was empty, which somehow added to the strangeness of it. Gryff raised an eyebrow as he closed it, his finger rubbing against a strange symbol on its surface.

    ¡®Could it be?¡¯

    He thought for a second before shaking his head, chuckling to himself. He dismissed the idea that had popped into his head.

    Gryff¡¯s gaze soon spotted something nearby, hidden near the fireplace. He set the urn down, heading towards the fireplace. He crouched, pulling a small stack of neatly folded clothes from a pile of other clothing. Gryff unfolded the square of clothing, staring at what he could assume was a jacket. The jacket had visible bloodstains near the arms and torso, and was torn. That wasn¡¯t the strangest part, either. The thing about it that bothered Gryff was the material. It felt strange, unlike any other cloth he had felt. It had small metal protrusions instead of buttons, a small key-looking thing holding the thing together.

    ¡°Stranger and stranger,¡± Gryff muttered, folding the jacket up again before standing up. He turned, sure that he had looked through everything.

    ¡°Well, not really,¡± Gryff reminded himself. He still had to perform a divination spell in the area, to see if he could find any oddities or evidence of magical tampering.

    He sighed, going on one knee as he rubbed his hands together. The problem with this type of magic was that it drained him much more than any other spell since it required him to tap into the ley lines below. Because of this drain, he could only use the spell twice a day before he nearly knocked himself out. He had used it roughly twelve hours ago, back in town, so he wasn¡¯t sure if he still had enough energy for the spell.

    ¡®Then again, it¡¯s not like you¡¯re going to find anything if you don¡¯t use it.¡¯

    Gryff placed his palm against the rugged carpet of the hut, taking a deep breath as he focused his body¡¯s ley lines. After a few seconds, he was ready.

    ¡°Divination: Area of Effect!¡± he chanted out loudly.

    Gryff felt the magical energies of the ley lines below suddenly pull towards him, his own pulling to meet them halfway. After straining to keep the spell up, both energies finally met at ground level, impacting and making a shockwave of magical feedback throughout the area. Fortunately, the shockwave wasn¡¯t strong enough to do much damage outside from scaring a few nearby birds. Gryff let out a breath of relief, standing up as he looked around at his surroundings.

    For the next few minutes, Gryff would be able to see the ley lines clear as day, the same going for any magical energies that had been lingering around for the past few weeks. Back in Yorktown, he had only found residue and traces of Fireball spells, fog cloud runes, and a couple of smaller unrecognizable traces. The hut, however, was an entirely different story.

    ¡°What the fuck happened here?¡± Gryff cursed out loud, his eyes widening as he looked down at the floor of the hut. He moved to grab the rug from underneath his feet, pulling it off of the ground as he tried to make sense of it all. The soldier who had come with him stepped into the hut, a surprised look on his face.

    ¡°Sir! I heard a sound and¡­ What the¡­?¡± The soldier stepped back, a look of confusion and horror on his face, despite not being able to see what Gryff saw. Still, Gryff understood his reaction. From what he could assume was the soldier¡¯s point of view, he was looking at a large ritualistic circle, chalk residue faded into the wood, as well as an ungodly amount of old blood staining the floor.

    From Gryff¡¯s point of view, however, the ley lines were beyond fucked. It was like cracked glass, jagged points of magical lines extending for miles as they all originated from the center of the circle. Gryff was almost sure he had found the origin of the anomaly, but dismissed it as quickly as the thought entered his mind. There wasn¡¯t a visible source, only the impact of it. Gryff was unsure of what to make of it all, as he had never seen anything like it.

    ¡°What is going on here?¡± he muttered, truly unsettled by it all.

    <hr>

    James yawned tiredly as he stretched out his limbs, waiting outside of the tavern for Dahlia and Helen. Haggard was nearby, his clothes dry but still smelling of seaweed and shit. James did his best not to use his nose to breathe as he talked to Haggard.

    ¡°Did you get a good sleep?¡± James asked, trying to make small talk. The bulky man grumbled in response, letting James know it still ticked him off about last night. James whistled awkwardly at his response, looking off at the gray clouds above. They stood like that for a couple more minutes before Dahlia and Helen walked out of the tavern. Dahlia looked as if she didn¡¯t get a wink of sleep, while Helen scowled at the dawn¡¯s light like it had spat on her, despite it being filtered through the clouds.

    ¡®Hungover,¡¯ James noted.

    ¡®No shit. I¡¯m surprised she survived all that alcohol¡­¡¯ Faust commented.

    Despite their shoddy state, the group still moved on, heading their way back to the southern port and harbor. James noted the way Haggard strayed on the left side of the group, far away from where the canals were located.

    ¡®Never thought I¡¯d ever see Haggard so pissed.¡¯

    James remembered how lively and enthusiastic he was back at Yorktown and before last night. Then again, James was pretty sure any man would be more than a little angry after swimming for dear life in the icy waters of the canals. Especially if he was forcefully dragged into it by a drunkard. It surprised James that Haggard even agreed to be shackled to the ex-marauder.

    The group soon stopped again as Dahlia walked off to visit the Wizard for the second half of her purchases. They stood at the plaza in the meantime, awaiting the shaman to come back.

    ¡°Huh,¡± Helen suddenly said, ¡°Look over there.¡± She gestured. James glanced at where she was looking before seeing them.

    There were three men, all of them bickering. The first man was a guy who looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties, his black hair clipped neat and face clean shaven. James noted the unique way his ears were shaped.

    ¡®Elf¡­¡¯

    That was the word that came to mind. He was in decent-looking gear, a sharp-looking rapier on his belt. The second one was much younger, probably younger than Seamus. This man had brown hair, unkempt and dirty. He wore a partial gambeson that covered his torso, leaving his tunic¡¯s sleeves visible. There was a sheathed sword on his back and a helmet hanging off from his belt. This man was currently arguing with the first man.

    The third man was a balding dwarf with a scruffy beard, his bald scalp sporting a red welt. He was wearing a steel breastplate and partial chainmail, a visible ax and steel shield on his person. The dwarf was currently groaning on the ground, sitting as he covered his eyes, showing signs of either a concussion or a hangover. Or both.

    ¡®Isn¡¯t that the same guy who crashed near our table last night?¡¯ James realized, finding it a miracle, he was still out and about, even if he seemed out of commission. Now that James thought about it, didn¡¯t Helen say the dwarf was one of the mercenaries they hired?

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Looks like we¡¯ll still be using up our fifty gold,¡± Helen confirmed, sighing.

    ¡°I do not know why they¡¯re bothering to hire you. I think we¡¯ll be better off without a milk drinker slowing us down,¡± the posh looking elf argued.

    ¡°Slowing us down? You¡¯re the one to talk since you¡¯ll be just looking for loot, you fucking ass!¡± the youngest shouted in frustration.

    ¡°Ugh! Shut up, the both of you! This hangover is already killing me!¡± The dwarf complained.

    James watched all three exchange words, insulting the other and raising their voices as the conversation got heated. He sighed, deciding to step in as no one else had even attempted once.

    ¡°Hey!¡± James called, catching their attention. They all seemed confused to see James, a random stranger they had never seen before, stepping in to interrupt their conversation. Their faces suddenly changed when they saw Helen and Haggard standing behind him.

    ¡°So you¡¯re the big man, huh?¡± the elf asked, turning to James.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, what?¡± James asked, confused as he looked towards Helen. She shrugged.

    ¡°I told them you were the one leading the job,¡± Helen explained. James raised an eyebrow at that, prompting Helen to respond. ¡°It¡¯s not like I was going to tell them Haggard was in charge. Besides, you¡¯re the only one out of all of us who seems to know what the hell is going on, so yeah, I¡¯d say you¡¯re the one in charge.¡±

    James sighed, turning back to the hired mercenaries. He didn¡¯t even know their names.

    ¡°Yes¡­ I¡¯m the ¡®big man¡¯. And you are?¡± He rolled with it, since he didn¡¯t feel like arguing the semantics of who really was in charge.

    The first man, or elf, stepped up, a narcissistic air about him as he gestured towards himself.

    ¡°I am Archibald of House Yevin, destined to become the greatest swordsman in the north!¡± He suddenly pulled out his rapier, flourishing the blade around as if he was in a theater play. James grimaced at the sight, feeling a sense of second-hand embarrassment.

    ¡®This guy really is something¡­¡¯

    James looked at the second man, who slapped his palm against his forehead.

    ¡°What about you?¡± He asked, hoping this mercenary wouldn¡¯t start proclaiming that he himself was fated to become King of Valenfrost.

    The kid sighed, stepping up. ¡°My name is Edmund Baker. I¡¯ve only done a couple of jobs around the eastern coast of Azurvale. My last job went badly, and I ended up here in Valenfrost. Unfortunately, I can¡¯t really go back to Azurvale since I have no money, so I¡¯ve been trying to make ends meet until I can catch a ship headed to the west,¡± he explained all of this in a tired voice, the bags under his eyes showing his apparent exhaustion.

    James sympathized with the young man, since he himself had been in a similar situation. Granted, James¡¯ situation involved two entirely different worlds and the constant threat of his life, but it was similar enough.

    James finally looked at the hungover dwarf, who mumbled to himself as he rubbed his temples. ¡°Are you alright?¡± He asked.

    The dwarven man perked his head up, his eyes moving to acknowledge James for the first time.

    ¡°Aye¡­ Thanks for asking,¡± he responded. James couldn¡¯t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. The dwarf grunted as he stood up, wobbling as he tried to get his footing right.

    ¡°My name is Bjorn Farkas, at your service. All you need to know is that I don¡¯t care for the gold, only for the thrill of the fight. So, if this job has nothing to do with fighting or hunting, then please let me know now so I can fuck off properly.¡±

    ¡®Rough and to the point¡­ I like him.¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice commented.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get your action,¡± James replied, his words seemingly pleasing the dwarf. James looked over at the group of mercenaries, all of them seeming a little¡­ eccentric.

    ¡®They¡¯ll fit right in, I guess¡­¡¯ James remarked internally.

    Something still bothered James.

    ¡®Wait¡­ didn¡¯t Haggard say they hired a group of four? There¡¯s only three¨C¡¯

    James¡¯ eyes widened, the hairs on his skin standing up as goosebumps traveled down his body.

    ¡®To your right!¡¯

    James reacted quickly, his hands reaching for his sword as he turned to the source of the disturbance of his surroundings. He turned his head to see the threat, sword at the ready. James found himself face to face with a pair of black holes, accompanied by a wide cartoonish grin.

    ¡°Good reflexes,¡± the thing spoke, a muffled voice coming from behind the smile. James stared, speechless, as the thing leaned a little closer, almost examining him. ¡°You¡¯re interesting,¡± it commented before it leaned back, giving James some breathing room.

    The ¡®thing¡¯ was actually a masked man, which seemed to ease the worries a little. The man was clad in partial plate armor, which was visible under his shawl, his black tunic¡¯s sleeves rolled up to show off his scars. James could see how the man¡¯s mask held a white wooden texture, showing that it wasn¡¯t really his face. Still, the thing that really bothered James was the mask¡¯s cartoonish grin and dot eyes, which somehow unnerved him.

    ¡®I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s the fourth mercenary¡­¡¯

    James looked to see his group¡¯s reaction to the strange man, but they were focused on him.

    ¡°What?¡± He asked.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even see him move.¡± James heard Edmund comment.

    ¡°That was something,¡± Helen added, a confused look on her face.

    ¡°James, how did you¡­?¡± Dahlia was there too, joining up with the group during the introductions. James swallowed as he sheathed his sword, unsure of what to say.

    ¡®Act natural,¡¯ he told himself, turning away from his group.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get to the ship. Daylight¡¯s burning.¡± James knew that there was no way to explain his unnaturally quick reaction since not even he knew how it worked, so he put it off for as long as possible

    ¡®Better for everyone if we just head off now.¡¯

    He figured as he walked off to the harbor, not looking back to see if they were following.

    ¡®Faust¡­ Was that you?¡¯ James asked the spirit, since Faust was the one who warned James of the presence of the strange mercenary.

    James recalled something that Faust had told him back when they had fought the wolves, how Faust explained to James that he had merged into James¡¯ body to enhance his reflexes and sight.

    <blockquote>

    ¡®I¡¯m a spirit! Spirits can do things beyond human limitations. I simply willed myself into your body when I sensed something was wrong,¡¯

    </blockquote>

    James recalled those words from the spirit, who had also saved his life a second time during the Siege of Yorktown.

    ¡®He moved quickly,¡¯ Faust finally spoke up. ¡®I assumed he was a threat, so I¡­ reacted.¡¯

    The explanation was short and didn¡¯t really explain much to James, besides the fact that Faust was the reason behind his quick movements. Before James could inquire further, he stopped in his tracks once again. James could see their ship, Frostbite, docked at the harbor ahead. The only difference now was that there was a group of what looked like ten to fifteen men nearby, a familiar man among them arguing with Seamus.

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand. James is a good friend of mine!¡± Dimitri exclaimed to Seamus.

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem to take my words. I. Don¡¯t. Know. You,¡± Seamus argued back, which seemed to cause restlessness within the men behind Dimitri. One man stepped up, his short, dark ginger hair swaying in the wind. He was lanky and tall, a few centimeters taller than James, judging from his surroundings.

    ¡°Dimitri, you better not be trying to fool us with another one of your tall lies.¡± His accent and way of speaking were like an accent James couldn¡¯t place at first.

    ¡®It sounds like Helen¡¯s accent¡­ but different in a way,¡¯ James thought before deciding he should step in. He could figure out accents later.

    ¡°Dimitri! I see you found our ship?¡± James called, dispelling the tension in the air. The man in question looked over at James, his face lighting up at the sight of the blond man.

    ¡°James! This is the crew I¡¯ve been telling you so much about!¡± Dimitri gestured towards the group of men behind him, some of them looking tired and nervous.

    James examined them all, seeing how they were talking amongst themselves, some giving James looks. The tall one from earlier stepped up to James, seemingly examining him.

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re the one who saved Dimitri¡¯s arse?¡± he asked, scratching his stubble. ¡°Hm, from the story he told me, I would¡¯ve guessed you to be much more threatening. Still, I don¡¯t doubt his trust in you. Dimitri might be an idiot and twist the truth much more than he tells it, but he¡¯s generally a good judge of people.¡± He glanced at Dimitri, who was now gesturing towards Dahlia, explaining to the crew how she had fought like a ¡®demon¡¯ during last night¡¯s encounter.

    James felt himself chuckle. ¡°Yeah. I kinda expected that, judging from last night¡¯s¡­ Conflict.¡±

    The tall man looked down at James, rubbing his chin. ¡°Well, to be fair, I¡¯m just glad he wasn¡¯t lying about you and your brig. From the looks of it, you¡¯re preparing for some journey.¡± He gestured to the group behind James, which comprised Dahlia, Helen, Haggard, and the mercenaries. Now that James looked at it, they all seemed like a rag-tag adventuring party, readying up for a raid.

    ¡®If only¡­¡¯

    James reminisced about the days where he could have been looking at a similar sight through a PC monitor.

    ¡°Yes, a really important journey,¡± James agreed. ¡°Dimitri mentioned that you guys would work for cheap. Please tell me he wasn¡¯t twisting that truth. We¡¯re not really tight with money.¡± The ginger-haired man raised an eyebrow at the strange saying but didn¡¯t seem phased.

    ¡°No worries, he wasn¡¯t wrong.¡± He gestured towards the group behind him. ¡°We¡¯re in a desperate pinch at the moment. Our crew hasn¡¯t been on contract for months, and we¡¯ve already lost half of our original crew to the promises of bandits and raiders. Honestly, we¡¯re willing to work cheaper than the whores near the marketplace.¡± The man laughed dryly at that, crossing his arms. James nodded, thinking back to the times he had been unemployed. Still, not really the same, but James had to find a way to relate to their situation to better understand it.

    ¡°Well, what¡¯s your going rate?¡± James asked, opening negotiations.

    ¡°Well, usual crews for a brig this size will run you around two hundred gold a month, since you¡¯ll be paying around ten gold for each man. But that¡¯s the standard and is for twenty-men crews who don¡¯t drink and don¡¯t complain.¡± The ginger pointed at himself and the men behind. ¡°We¡¯re a fourteen-men crew, half of us drunks and former criminals. We¡¯re also willing to work for much cheaper, so you¡¯re looking at around fifty-six gold a month. As well as living quarters on the ship or offshore if you want to compromise.¡± The man explained.

    ¡®That¡¯s roughly four gold pieces for each man.¡¯

    James found it expensive but soon realized that the man was lowballing the price. Hard. These men were willing to work for a month straight for only two hundred silver a month. James almost felt bad for taking advantage. Then again, doing the math in his head, they only had around sixty gold left to spend. He looked towards Dahlia, gesturing for her to come over. ¡°Excuse me for a bit,¡± he told the man before walking off.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Dahlia asked once they were out of hearing range.

    ¡°How much gold do we have left?¡± James asked, wondering if his math was right.

    ¡°Well, once we pay the mercenaries, we¡¯ll be left with around roughly sixty pieces¡­ Why?¡±

    ¡°Well, these guys are around four pieces each and¡­¡±

    ¡°Wait, you really want to hire a crew? With our budget?¡±

    ¡°I mean¡­ Yeah. Don¡¯t give me that look.¡± He saw how Dahlia¡¯s expression turned annoyed and frustrated. James raised his hands in protest.

    ¡°Let me explain my reasoning. Look, they might be rough around the edges.¡± James heard the crew arguing about sharing a bottle behind him, which wasn¡¯t helping much. ¡°But they¡¯ll be incredibly useful. We can¡¯t keep adjusting the sails and managing the ship by ourselves anymore. At some point, it¡¯ll be too much for just a couple of people. They¡¯ll also allow us to cover more ground on the islands, since they¡¯ll be looking after the ship while we complete our objective. Also, from what I heard, Dimitri has a good eye for people. He trusts them, just as much as he trusts you and I.¡± James watched Dahlia mull it over, her eyes closed as she bit her lip.

    ¡°Fine, but you¡¯re adding this to the silver you already owe me,¡± she reluctantly agreed, which relieved James.

    Turning back to the crew, James stopped up to Dimitri and his tall friend, who were busy talking with each other.

    ¡°Hey!¡± James called. ¡°I think we can come to an agreement. Fifty-six gold, right? Four gold for each man.¡±

    The ginger-haired man nodded. ¡°That was the deal. Don¡¯t forget housing for them as well. We can find sleeping spots on the ship for the moment, but I doubt the crew will stand for a month without proper bedding. Same for substance, since we¡¯re still human.¡±

    ¡°Do not worry about that part, my friend. I will supply the crew with food and drink.¡± Dimitri commented.

    ¡°As long as you don¡¯t give us hard liquor¡­ I can still feel my hangover from that time on the Vintor.¡± The two men chuckled, leaving an awkward James to step in once more.

    ¡°So we have a deal, then?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Aye, we have a deal,¡± the tall man agreed, extending his hand to James. The otherworldly man took it, shaking as he grinned.

    ¡°Welcome aboard¡­ Uh¡­¡±

    ¡°Liam, Liam Cormac. Nice to do business with ya, James.¡± Liam grinned. James¡¯ brain suddenly clicked out of nowhere, his mind going back to his earlier dilemma.

    ¡®Helen¡¯s accent sounds almost Scottish¡­ so I guess this guy is¡­¡¯

    ¡°Irish,¡± James muttered, earning a confused look from Liam.

    ¡°Beg your pardon?¡±

    ¡°Nothing, just remembering something,¡± James explained, before Dimitri turned to the rest of the crew.

    ¡°All right, everyone! Onto the ship! We finally have a contract!¡± Most of the men shouted drunken cheers before they all filed onto Frostbite.

    The rest of the crew followed the newly hired men, leaving James with Dahlia and Seamus.

    ¡°One day in Vindis, and you¡¯ve already recruited the help of a drunken crew, a group of what I can assume are mercenaries, and somehow, a follower of chaos,¡± Seamus commented before he turned to James, the flowing wind pushing his messy hair enough to show his small birthmark. James had never really paid attention to the mark until now. He could see how it resembled two circles, both semi-complete as a slash ran through them both. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, it would seem like you¡¯re trying to start a clan of oddballs.¡± He chuckled a bit, his words causing Dahlia to stifle a laugh.

    ¡°Ah yes, I can see it actually¡­ James Holter, Jarl of the Misfits of Valenfrost. Next thing you know, you¡¯ll be hiring orcs and gnomes to become your warriors,¡± she joked, grinning as she walked off to the brig.

    ¡®Orcs and gnome warriors¡­ Ridiculous¡­¡¯ James thought, as Seamus followed behind the shaman.

    ¡®The gnomes would be ranged, let the orcs do the fighting¡­ Then again, gnomes are naturally agile, so it wouldn¡¯t hurt to have a couple of them fight alongside the orcs¡­¡¯

    ¡®You¡­ You¡¯re not serious, are you?¡¯ Faust asked worriedly as James followed Seamus.

    ¡®I¡¯m joking¡­ Kinda.¡¯

    With that, the new crew of Frostbite would soon set sail once more, leaving the southern harbor of Vindis with the help of longboats. Once out of the restrictions of the harbor and port, Frostbite unfurled their sails fully, catching the freezing wind as it sailed off to its objective.

 B.2 Chapter 17: Distant Shores

    3

    Beyond the Shore

    <hr>

    James had forgotten about the unsteadiness of sailing, which made his return to the ship all the more unstable. He grasped the railings tightly as Liam looked at him strangely. They were currently on the quarterdeck, near the steering wheel. In fact, Liam was the one steering Frostbite since Dimitri had proclaimed him to be the best wheelman in all of Valenfrost.

    ¡°Are you doing alright?¡± Liam asked, raising an eyebrow at James. The young man nodded in response, steadying himself as he took a deep breath.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine¡­ Just a little seasick,¡± James responded. He clenched his fist, forcing the urge to vomit down. It was harder than he expected since he had to keep down that stale food he had eaten from that tavern back in Vindis.

    ¡°Ah¡­ First time at sea in months, aye?¡± The wheelman prodded.

    ¡°You can say that,¡± James muttered.

    ¡°I feel ya. I myself am feeling a little uneasy steering this beauty of a brig.¡± Liam tapped on the wooden wheel, keeping it steady.

    ¡°Oi, wheelman,¡± Helen called as she approached the two, dragging Haggard behind her.

    ¡®I swear it feels like she¡¯s forcing Haggard along instead of the other way around,¡¯ James thought as the ex-marauder arrived at the wheel¡¯s side.

    ¡°I need you to turn this brig southeast,¡± Helen started. She then said some other terms James didn¡¯t recognize. He watched as she pointed to the map she held with her left hand. Liam nodded, listening intently as James stood awkwardly nearby. The ginger man returned to his wheel, turning it as Helen watched her compass.

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you two to your navigation,¡± James said as he tried to walk off, his hands gripping the railing for balance.

    The young man somehow made it to the main deck, his legs shaking slightly as he walked across it without the help of railings. He watched other members of the crew working around him, some checking the sails as others sat around talking. He then heard Helen shout out from the quarterdeck, most of the crew moving to fulfill her order as Dimitri joined in on her yelling.

    ¡°Quick! Shift the sails! Catch the wind!¡± He shouted, rushing the men. James had to avoid bumping into them as they moved, making sure not to hinder their work. He was fascinated at the speed of their work, watching as the sails billowed and flapped, turning to catch the wind as the deck underneath his feet shifted slightly, almost making the young man stumble. He saw Dahlia ahead, right next to the bow, sitting on a crate as she scribbled on her small journal, something she had been doing for a while now.

    ¡°What¡¯re you writing?¡± James asked once he reached the shaman. Dahlia perked up, closing her journal as James approached.

    ¡°Just something,¡± Dahlia explained briefly before she raised an eyebrow. ¡°Maintaining your balance, I see¡­ You¡¯ve gotten used to it quickly,¡± the shaman pointed out as James walked steadily to a crate nearby before he sat on it. He still clutched onto the sides of his seat since he didn¡¯t trust the ship to stay so steady.

    ¡°What can I say? I¡¯m a fast learner.¡± James grinned back. An awkward silence soon came over them both, the sound of waves crashing being the only sound.

    ¡°James, are you sure you¡¯re ready?¡± Dahlia asked suddenly.

    James blinked in surprise. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Ready to face that thing again,¡± Dahlia explained. There was now a heavy air around them, with James mulling over his next answer.

    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure,¡± James muttered. He glanced at the rest of the ship, watching the mercenaries do their own thing. Archibald was cleaning his rapier, examining its reflection with a grin. Edmund was sitting by the mast, watching the crew work. Bjorn was napping or passed out; James wasn¡¯t sure. Miles, The Follower of Chaos, as he called himself, was standing next to Edmund, staring out into the sea as he leaned against the mainmast.

    ¡°With the guys we hired, we¡¯ll stand a better chance,¡± James said. He hesitated a little, something deep inside nagging at him. ¡°But I¡¯m afraid of getting more people killed. Even if they signed up for it.¡± James recalled back to Yorktown¡¯s siege, how he had watched that guard, Thomas, die before him. Watching as oily blood stained the cobbles below him. James involuntarily shuddered. He didn¡¯t want to go through that experience again.

    Dahlia gave him a worried look. ¡°I can understand that, but you must realize that this needs to be done,¡± she said. ¡°Do you really want more people to suffer the same fate as that thing¡¯s victims? I¡¯ve seen the bodies of Erik Catcher and his family. I saw what it did to them.¡± She had a determined look on her face, something that surprised James. The shaman had originally not wanted to go on this mission, but something about that had changed.

    ¡°There will always be that danger, and some people probably will die, but that¡¯s a risk we have to take.¡± Dahlia murmured. ¡°We cannot allow it to keep living, James.¡±

    ¡°I understand.¡± James sighed, nodding.

    Dahlia smiled, despite the clear worry that flashed in her eyes. ¡°Good, ¡¯cause you¡¯re not the only one who worries for everyone. I am the only healer here, remember?¡±

    James returned a weak smile before hearing Dimitri call out to his crew.

    ¡°Norman! Start us off with a song, will you?¡±

    Norman, a dirty-looking man working the sails, turned his head to the rest of the crew.

    ¡°All right! Follow my lead!¡± He grinned before he started to sing.

    ¡°Gliding through the waves!¡± he sang, his voice crisp and beautiful as he worked the ropes.

    ¡°Steady goes the ship!¡± another voice rang out. Then the rest of the crew joined in, some humming out loud.

    ¡°Salt is in the air!¡±

    ¡°Sail to distant shores!¡±

    Then, all the crew shouted out at once. ¡°Hah!¡±

    ¡°Billowing are the sails!¡±

    ¡°Waters as far as one sees!¡±

    ¡°Rum is in our blood!¡±

    ¡°Sail to distant shores!¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡±

    ¡°Wind is cold and fresh!¡±

    ¡°Deck as clean as can be!¡±

    ¡°Drunk, as one can see!¡±

    The crew then laughed before Norman continued.

    ¡°Sail to distant shores!¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡±

    The crew repeated the song, singing all together as they worked. James watched in fascination, even singing along for a few verses once he figured them out. They continued singing all the way through their trip.

    <hr>

    The first two islands weren¡¯t as far apart as James initially thought, only a few kilometers apart. He examined both, which seemed to have a forest of their own, with one even having a small, unimpressive mountain like Yorktown. He collapsed the spotting glass Helen had given him, handing it back to the navigator as he scratched at his beard.

    ¡°Not much, are they?¡± Helen asked, looking through her spotting glass once more.

    ¡°Much smaller than I would¡¯ve thought,¡± James agreed. Each island was around half the size of the one that Yorktown was built on. ¡°At least we¡¯ll have little ground to cover. Make our job a little easier. Is everyone ready?¡± James turned to Seamus, who shook his head as he stepped onto the surface deck.

    ¡°Might need to give them a little more time. Archibald said something about dwarves and pissed off Bjorn. He then called him an elvish insult that I¡¯d rather not repeat and that started a chain reaction of bickering down there,¡± Seamus revealed in a tired voice.

    James let out a breath of frustration as he pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do,¡± he responded before he started his way to the hatch. ¡°Stay with Haggard and Helen,¡± he instructed as he passed Seamus.

    Once James entered the below decks, he was met with a thrown tankard. Faust quickly forced his body to react, his head dodging the flying object by millimeters. It was so fast that James couldn¡¯t help but curse aloud.

    ¡°What the fuck?!¡± He exclaimed, catching the attention of almost everyone ahead. They were all crowded around the map table, some surprised at James¡¯ sudden outburst. James was just as surprised as they were, his eyes noticing how Bjorn¡¯s hand was halfway formed into a charged fist. Archibald was the sole target, judging from his drawn rapier. James forgot about the thrown tankard, sighing as he shook his head.

    ¡°Can everyone please focus and put your weapons away?¡± James asked sternly, noticing how one man in green reached for another tankard. ¡°Flying objects, too,¡± James added, shooting down any bold ideas.

    After some hushed bickering and side comments, James got everyone around the map table hushed and behaved.

    ¡°Alright, everyone is here. Except for¡­¡± The young man turned to Dahlia, who was currently doing something at her quarters, which consisted of an open area with her small bedroll and rucksack.

    ¡°Hey!¡± James called. ¡°Shamans included.¡±

    He watched as Dahlia groaned. She finished whatever she was working on and put it into her belt¡¯s pouches. The shaman soon arrived at the map table, standing on the opposite side of James.

    James looked down at the map, which displayed the southeastern part of Valenfrost, according to Seamus. Most of the map looked unfinished as if someone had given up halfway through making it. Still, James only cared for the islands marked with red ink.

    ¡°Alright, here¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do.¡± James leaned in, tapping two of the smallest islands on the plain table. ¡°We¡¯ll be splitting up into two teams, each covering an island each.¡± He placed his finger on the bigger island, the one with the small mountain. ¡°Team one will cover this island. The team will comprise me, Archibald, Edmund, and¡­¡± James blinked, looking at the two men in green to his left. He didn¡¯t even know their names.

    ¡®Did they ever even speak?¡¯

    James wondered but decided that now probably wasn¡¯t the time to question it.

    ¡°Sorry if I sound like an asshole, but what are your names?¡± James asked finally after some awkward seconds had passed. One man seemed to hold back a laugh as he glanced at James. He gestured towards himself and his companion, who seemed to be a little shorter.

    ¡°My name is Finn, his name is Brant.¡± he introduced.

    ¡°Noted.¡± James did his best with a friendly smile; all the while, he was doing his best to associate the names with the faces.

    ¡®Finn, blond and broad. Brant, dark hair and short. Got it.¡¯

    He turned to the map, recalling what he was saying. ¡°All right, the first team will comprise me, Archibald, Edmund, and Brant. The second team will comprise Dahlia, Bjorn, Miles, and Finn. Team two will take on the southern island.¡± James tapped on the second island. He had to admit, his gut was tying itself into knots, his fingers slightly shaking as he tapped on the map. James clenched his fist, pulling his hand back as he looked at everyone around the table. They all stared back, expectant eyes on him.

    ¡®There¡¯s a chance some of these people will die¡­¡¯

    James reminded himself. The memory of Thomas¡¯ death replayed itself in James¡¯ head again, reminding the young man of the danger and reality of this world.

    ¡®Not unless you do something about it¡­¡¯ Faust suddenly spoke. ¡®You couldn¡¯t do anything back then. It was out of your hands. However, these people will rely on you and Dahlia for guidance. Take that as you will.¡¯

    James nodded to himself, meeting the gazes of the people whose lives were in his hands.

    ¡°Alright, Frostbite is equipped with three rowboats. Each team will take one and be dropped off at their assigned island,¡± James explained before the shaman stepped in.

    ¡°Remember, everyone, the potential threat of our target is high. There¡¯s a chance that the creature won¡¯t be as strong as the one James and I faced. There¡¯s even the chance that we won¡¯t find anything. Still, suppose this¡­ thing is as dangerous as last time. In that case, we¡¯ll be dealing with a creature that can survive severe punishment, including that of a Fireball,¡± Dahlia explained. James could hear some men curse under their breaths, Edmund¡¯s reaction being the loudest.

    ¡°You said it took on a Fireball? Like an actual, honest to the gods, rank three spell?¡± Edmund asked for clarification.

    Dahlia nodded. ¡°Despite its tough resistance, the creature we faced seemed to have notable weak spots. It did finally fall after James had destroyed its head. So we will have to do the same if we come across anything like it,¡± she explained, the men around the table nodding.

    James butted in, ¡°We will also have to burn its body once it¡¯s dead. As well as any of its victims. In fact, anything that¡¯s crystallized and blackened must be burned as soon as possible. There¡¯s no telling what kind of black magic it is, but I¡¯m not keen on finding out.¡± James examined all the expressions on the table. It was a mixture of grim acceptance, fear, and even excitement. ¡°Alright, the briefing is over. Let¡¯s get to work. We have a long day ahead of us¡­¡±

    Everyone shared a mixed bag of agreements, heading to the hatch as Dahlia and James stayed behind to finish gearing up. Dahlia looked over at James, walking up to him as he adjusted a round shield to his back, the same one he had stolen from Havor.

    ¡°You have a distinct air about you when giving orders. Were you a commander or something back on Earth?¡± She asked coyly. James shrugged tiredly as he grabbed his helmet, a gift from Dahlia, who had apparently gotten it from that dwarf blacksmith in Nathan¡¯s shop.

    ¡°Must be Faust. I¡¯ve been exposed to many of his older memories as a Centurion lately.¡± James recalled his vision from back when they had left Yorktown, which had shown him Faust during his time in Cyrus¡¯ Legion and Faust¡¯s battle with the knight. The experience had influenced him, but it wasn¡¯t the real reason he was so used to planning and organizing.

    ¡®Why didn¡¯t you tell her the actual truth?¡¯ Faust asked as they made their way to the surface deck.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    ¡®Because trying to explain the countless hours of World of WarCraft to someone who has no inkling of an idea of what technology is¡­ Well¡­ It¡¯s not feasible. You should know since you still can¡¯t even grasp the idea, even after countless hours of looking through my memories,¡¯ James explained.

    Faust seemed to pause for a moment before finally answering. ¡®Fair point¡­¡¯

    ¡°Hold up first.¡± Dahlia suddenly stopped, nearly causing James to bump into her. ¡°I almost forgot,¡± she murmured, reaching into a leather pouch she had slung. James watched as she pulled out a few rough gray stones with a flat polished surface that reflected like smooth glass.

    ¡°Runes?¡± James asked while he examined the faint purple rune inscribed onto it.

    ¡°They¡¯re all inscribed with Night Spray. I¡¯ll tell you more about how to use them when we¡¯re above deck,¡± Dahlia explained. She then produced a couple of shiny metal orbs, their surface resembling a grid, just like a pineapple. James recognized the strange objects from their visit to Nathan¡¯s shop the other day.

    ¡°The gnomes were working on these, right?¡± James asked as Dahlia handed him one orb. He remembered how the Wizard had used it as a visual aid to describe the magical ley lines of the world.

    ¡°Yup, they offered them when I visited their shop this morning. You want to know how they work?¡± Dahlia asked, smiling at James as she headed off. ¡°C¡¯mon, I¡¯ll explain on the way,¡± she called as James hurried to follow.

    <hr>

    The rowboat rocked slightly against the waves as Dahlia and her team worked the oars, heading to their destination ahead. While the shaman and Finn steered the boat, Bjorn was currently emptying the contents of his stomach out into the black waters. Dahlia sighed, watching the dwarf groaning as he sat back on the boat. He scowled at the sky, covering his eyes despite the lack of sunlight through the gray clouds.

    ¡°I really shouldn¡¯t have drunk so much,¡± he groaned out loud. The dwarf mercenary had been hungover most of the day, avoiding light and loud noises. Dahlia had thought the effects of last night would wear off Bjorn, but it seemed as if she had underestimated the amount he had to drink the night before.

    ¡®Plus, he was thrown across the tavern and into a table¡­ I doubt anyone can just shrug that off in a day,¡¯

    The shaman looked off to Frostbite, sailing off to the other island to leave James¡¯ team close to the shore.

    ¡®Really hope he understood my instructions on using the runes and that orb,¡¯ Dahlia thought as she worked the oars against the black waters.

    After a while of rowing, team two had finally beached onto the island¡¯s gravelly shores. Dahlia, Finn, and Miles pulled the small vessel onto the shore as Bjorn sat nearby, still holding his head.

    ¡°You can always help,¡± Dahlia murmured as she caught her breath. Her arms were already sore from all the rowing, so pulling the rowboat onto shore was more than a little difficult for her. The dwarf grunted, shifting as he pulled out a small brass flask.

    ¡°I could,¡± Bjorn simply answered. He held the flask upside down above his gullet, brownish liquid pouring from the brass container. He made a face right after, scrunching his nose as he wiped his mouth, screwing his flask shut. ¡°Ugh¡­ why do vitality potions always taste like shite?¡± He complained as he moved to stand up again. Dahlia opened her mouth to answer but decided it was best that no one knew what it contained.

    ¡®Just be grateful for what it does¡­¡¯ Dahlia mentally commented as she recalled the many disgusting insects and weird plants that made up the concoction.

    ¡°If you really think those are bad, you should probably avoid drinking any vigor potions,¡± Miles said as the group headed into the woods ahead. ¡°They¡¯ll practically burn a hole through your stomach.¡±

    ¡°Aye,¡± Finn agreed. ¡°Had a cousin who bought a salt vigor from some shady traveling merchant. Was supposed to keep his wits sharp and perception high, but he ended up getting the shits for a week straight. Miracle, he didn¡¯t die.¡± Dahlia could see Bjorn hold back a laugh, a grin visible underneath his scruffy reddish beard.

    ¡°What a scam,¡± the dwarf chuckled. ¡°Who falls for such shit?¡±

    ¡°Vigors are supposed to be a double-edged sword,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°They enhance you for a bit but come with various consequences. I heard of this one alchemist who tried a vigor that was supposed to drastically increase the strength of his spells. It worked until he got a heat stroke seconds after casting a single spell.¡± She shrugged, looking at Finn. They work but are hardly worth the trouble of using them.¡±

    ¡°Your cousin was lucky he only got dysentery,¡± Miles added. ¡°I¡¯ve seen men burst into flames after using those things.¡± The follower tilted his head a bit, making his carved grin and dot eyes appear like they were facing the group. ¡°Then again, I might¡¯ve been responsible for some of those Ignitions.¡±

    Dahlia could swear the strange man was smiling underneath that wooden mask. The entire group fell into an awkward silence as they walked through the barren forest.

    ¡°That lad must have a few bolts loose in that noggin¡¯ of his. Hel, even his presence gives me the creeps,¡± Bjorn murmured to the shaman in a quiet voice that only she could hear.

    ¡°I hear you,¡± Dahlia whispered back as they walked. Miles was¡­ strange. Dahlia had heard the stories about the followers of Myr. Still, she had dismissed them as falsehoods made from shallow judgments. Now, however, she was starting to believe those stories.

    ¡®Still, he hasn¡¯t done anything strange besides his words.¡¯

    Dahlia reserved her full judgment of the man until she had gotten to know him a bit better.

    Suddenly, Miles stopped, which in turn made the entire group suddenly take pause.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Dahlia asked, stepping up to where the young man was. Her eyes caught sight of something ahead, hidden behind a tree. It was blackened, malformed, and twisted weirdly. She squinted, unsure of what it was.

    ¡°It¡¯s a corpse,¡± Miles suddenly said, nearly making the shaman jump at his sudden words.

    ¡°What?¡± she asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a corpse,¡± Miles repeated, pointing his finger at the tree. ¡°I¡¯ve seen enough bodies to know what that is,¡± he added. Dahlia looked back at the¡­ thing that Miles had spotted. She slowly approached the tree, her hand moving to her dagger.

    ¡®What the¡­ Is that what I think it is?¡¯

    Dahlia took a few more steps, coming ever so close to the tree. The ¡®corpse¡¯ was still as a statue, not moving as she approached it. Still, it unnerved her to no end until she reached the tree.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Bjorn suddenly called out, surprising Dahlia and almost making her jump. She looked at the group, who were all a couple meters away from the tree she was at. Dahlia sighed, focusing her attention on the thing in front of her.

    ¡°Miles is right. It¡¯s a body,¡± she confirmed.

    ¡®If it could be called that.¡¯

    The ¡®corpse¡¯ was nothing more than a twisted deer carcass, its limbs bent wrongly and its head entirely missing. Patches of its fur were gone, its skin a pitch-black and unnatural purple. Dahlia crouched, poking the remains with a stick she had picked up.

    ¡°Crystals,¡± she noted aloud, noticing the small glistening rocks embedded into the thing¡¯s skin.

    ¡®It¡¯s just like the thing that attacked Yorktown. Gods, it even smells like it, too.¡¯

    Dahlia examined the corpse some more, an unsettling feeling coming over her.

    ¡®What killed it? It¡¯s so mauled and twisted. No natural predator would do this.¡¯

    The shaman noted the missing head, which worried her even more.

    ¡®Whatever it is, we¡¯re going to have to find it.¡¯

    Using her dagger, Dahlia moved to cut off one crystal from the blackened skin. It was much more difficult than she had expected, with her putting in extra effort to cut her blade through the flesh. After some forced sawing, she got her sample. Dahlia pulled a glass vial from her leather pouch, courtesy of James, before dropping the sample into it.

    ¡°Does anyone have anything flammable?¡± she asked as she turned around, pocketing the vial. Her team was now behind her, watching as she examined the remains. Bjorn was the first to react, stepping up as he pulled out a tin flask this time and handed it to the shaman. She raised an eyebrow as she looked down at the flask of booze.

    ¡°Believe me, it¡¯s the good stuff from Haven. Dwarven brewed,¡± Bjorn proudly stated. Dahlia unscrewed the top, taking a small sniff before gagging and coughing to the side.

    ¡°By Freyja, it smells stronger than cleansing alcohol!¡± She commented, shaking her head as she held the flask away from her nose.

    ¡®The vapors alone would light up from a single spark spell¡­¡¯

    She swore that her nose¡¯s senses had been permanently damaged.

    Bjorn guffawed at her reaction. ¡°Pretty good, aye?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Yes¡­ This¡¯ll work,¡± Dahlia finally said before she poured some of the flask¡¯s contents onto the corpse. She would¡¯ve poured all the foul liquid if it wasn¡¯t for Bjorn. The dwarf snatched the flask away like it was his only child.

    ¡°What¡¯re you doing?¡± he asked, putting the flask away. ¡°You don¡¯t just waste good booze like that!¡±

    ¡°Well, what did you think I would use it for?¡± Dahlia asked.

    Bjorn seemed to want to keep arguing but simply shook his head. ¡°You owe me a queen piece for that!¡± he demanded.

    Dahlia sighed, deciding she wasn¡¯t entirely thrilled about arguing further. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll get you your booze money after we¡¯re done here.¡± She turned away from the dwarf, facing the corpse once again. She raised her hand to the remains of the former deer, taking a deep breath before speaking out.

    ¡°Ignition,¡± she chanted as she formed the appropriate hand gesture. Within seconds, the corpse was alight, bursting into flames with an explosive whoosh. Dahlia stumbled back from the sudden Fireball, staring at the flaming pile of flesh.

    ¡®Maybe it¡¯s a good thing Bjorn didn¡¯t let me use the rest of the flask¡­¡¯

    Dahlia and her team stared at the burning, twisted shape of the former deer. She noted how long it took for the flesh to truly start burning as it resisted the flames for a good minute before finally cooking under the intense heat of the Ignition spell and the strong alcohol. The smell the burning pile emitted was horrible and foul, almost making Dahlia gag from disgust as she turned away.

    Once she did so, she saw how Miles was focused on something else again. His head was turned to the woods. She followed his gaze once more, noticing something she didn¡¯t before. There were markings along the trees, almost like claw marks. The follower noticed her staring, his head turning to the shaman.

    ¡°You think your ¡®monster¡¯ is responsible?¡± He asked, gesturing towards the burning corpse of the deer, which was slowly dying out in heat and intensity. Dahlia stepped towards the marked tree, running her fingers across the torn bark and strange residue left behind.

    ¡®Blood?¡¯

    Her fingertips came back dirtied with a dark substance that felt greasy when she rubbed it between her thumb and index.

    ¡°It¡¯s likely,¡± Dahlia responded to Miles before returning to her team.

    Bjorn was still watching the burning corpse, which was slowly turning into nothing more than ash and embers despite only burning for a few minutes at most. The Ignition spell didn¡¯t play around with its heat, as even Dahlia had to use runes to ensure the firepit at her small home didn¡¯t burn out so quickly and light up the hut by accident.

    Without those runes to keep it in check, the spell could quickly engulf a target in flames, burning hot and fast. Dahlia knew well how fast it cooked flesh. After all, she could still remember the sight of the marauder burning to death, his screams and burnt flesh haunting her mind. Dahlia shivered at the memory, shaking it away as she forced her eyes away from the burnt remains.

    ¡°Let¡¯s track those markings,¡± she blurted, returning to the woods. She wanted to escape the smell of burnt remains, which reeked worse now. Dahlia walked into the woods without another word, following the trail of dark blood and marked trees.

    <hr>

    James trudged through the snow before finally taking a break at a nearby log. He caught his breath, the cold air stinging his lungs as puffs of steam exited his mouth and nostrils.

    ¡°God,¡± James managed, looking back at Edmund and Archibald, who seemed to feel the same way. The elf was red in the face, his breathing heavy and exhausted as Edmund tried to make it to the log James was at. Brant was already sitting on the log with James, but he didn¡¯t seem as tired as the other three.

    ¡°How¡­ big¡­ is this island?¡± Edmund suddenly commented as he reached James, sitting down to catch his breath.

    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be too big,¡± James lied, knowing that he truly did not know the scale or how much area they needed to cover.

    ¡°I am a warrior!¡± Archibald suddenly shouted, trudging through the path James and Edmund made through the snow. ¡°Not some¡­ explorer!¡± He continued as he reached the end of the log, panting as he sat down. The elf had been complaining the most about the walk, taking multiple breaks, and damn near giving up most of the way. ¡°Where are we heading to anyway?¡± Archibald then asked, finally catching his breath.

    ¡°We¡¯re heading to the center of the island. We¡¯ll most likely find something there,¡± James answered, his own breathing finally calmed down. That was another lie, as James followed Faust¡¯s ¡®gut feeling¡¯.

    ¡®It¡¯s not a ¡®gut feeling¡¯. I can feel something strange coming from there. I just can¡¯t explain it¡­¡¯ Faust suddenly spoke out, annoyed.

    ¡®You think it¡¯s like the last time we interacted? With it? ¡®James asked.

    ¡®I¡¯m not sure. It¡¯s so strange. It¡¯s almost as if...¡¯

    ¡°Hey, James, can I ask you something?¡± Edmund suddenly spoke up, catching James off guard.

    ¡°Huh?¡± James answered dumbly, turning to the young man.

    ¡°How do we fight this thing you and Dahlia briefed us about? It honestly sounds like something out of a nightmare.¡± Edmund was now breathing normally, his brow furrowed as he looked at James while the other two men also looked at him for answers.

    ¡°Well,¡± James started, thinking back. ¡°When Dahlia and I had fought it, we killed it by distracting its attention from time to time. Still, we almost died from that tactic¡­ It had moved so fast, it would¡¯ve killed me if it wasn¡¯t for her.¡± He sat up straight, holding onto the helmet he had brought with him. ¡°But, with more people, I don¡¯t doubt we can take it on. Still, we should be careful if we find something like it. There¡¯s no telling what form it could take on since last time.¡± James recalled how it took over a human body and how dangerous it was.

    ¡®Imagine if it took over a wolf instead of a human. We would¡¯ve been dealing with something entirely different in terms of shape and form. Who¡¯s telling what it can do out here, in these woods¡­¡¯

    James found himself frowning at the thought of a bear engulfed in crystals.

    ¡®Best not to jinx us,¡¯ James concluded.

    ¡°All we have to do is aim for the head, right?¡± Archibald asked, his tiredness fading away as quickly as it came. The elf stood up, drawing his rapier. ¡°No problem then, just get me close enough and¡­ Stab!¡± The elf demonstrated a thrust with his rapier, a grin forming on his lips.

    ¡°Do you really think that toothpick will work?¡± Brant asked. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say that most of its body was protected by crystals? Who¡¯s to say that whatever creature we find isn¡¯t going to protect its skull in those things?¡± The black-haired man commented.

    Archibald gave Brant a short laugh, devoid of humor, as he sheathed his silver rapier, which seemed to be engraved with runes. ¡°Believe me when I say that Delilah can cut through nearly anything short of diamonds!¡±

    ¡®Oh, gods, he actually named it,¡¯ Faust commented, sounding like he was holding back laughter. James could see a familiar look of embarrassment on Edmund¡¯s face, his palm on his forehead as Brant laughed.

    ¡°Oh? Got something to say?¡± Archibald responded, annoyed. The three men then bickered, their voices growing to gibberish. James shook his head, standing up as he put his steel helmet back on, feeling the cold metal press against his sweat-soaked hair and forehead. Just as he was about to get them to stop arguing, something else caught his attention. James squinted into the snowy woods, focusing on something black and twisted.

    ¡°Hey!¡± James suddenly said, shutting the three men up. James didn¡¯t wait to see their reactions as he trudged through the snow, making his way to the clearing ahead. He stopped at the edge of the small clearing in the woods, staring at the strewn-out bodies of¡­ whatever they were. Hell, they were barely recognizable as bodies on their own. James could make out broken limbs, twisted torsos, and blackened rib cages poking out of the stained snow.

    ¡®Too small for humans or elves. Either the remains of gnomes or goblins,¡¯ Faust suddenly said.

    ¡°Christ,¡± James muttered aloud, unable to hide his reaction to the scene.

    ¡°What is¡­?¡± Edmund started to say before he trailed off, his footsteps suddenly stopping. James heard the others arrive nearby but didn¡¯t have to look at them to know their reactions.

    ¡°Gods¡­¡± Archibald muttered, followed by a silent prayer from Edmund.

    ¡®James, you know what we have to do, right?¡¯ Faust mentioned right as James spotted the crystals forming on the frostbitten flesh.

    James swallowed, forcing himself to walk up to one of the twisted bodies, its form unrecognizable. Everyone was silent as James went down on a knee, reaching for his short sword. He grabbed one of the bigger crystals with his free hand. James cringed at the disgusting feel of it but didn¡¯t comment as he pressed the sharp end of his sword against the shriveled flesh. He slowly cut, using his short sword as a makeshift hacksaw. It was disgusting, unnerving work, nearly making the young man vomit as he cut through the wet flesh. Finally, after an eternity of sawing, the crystal ripped from the flesh, black fluid speckling on James and his sword.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± James cursed, spitting onto the snow nearby and dropping his sword as he stood up.

    James looked down at the bloodied crystal in his hand, clear as a prism instead of cloudy like the other one that Gryff had shown him. He reached into the leather pouch by his belt, searching through the contents before pulling out a glass vial. James uncorked it, dropping the specimen into the container. Once the vial was contained and put away, James reached for his sword, cleaning the blade with his shirt sleeve.

    ¡°So what now?¡± Edmund suddenly asked. James turned to see his group, all of them watching him. James looked back at the bodies, knowing that there was one more thing left for them to do before they went on their way.

    ¡°Gather the bodies,¡± James ordered, sheathing his short sword. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to burn them¡­¡±

    All four of the men did as needed, moving to gather up and pile any of the bodies and remains. James saw Archibald retch behind a tree after one body fell apart on him. He didn¡¯t blame him, as James himself was dangerously close to emptying his stomach. Still, they all continued their grim work, finally piling all the remains in the middle of the snowy clearing.

    ¡°What are we dealing with here, James?¡± Brant asked, wiping his hands on a nearby tree.

    ¡°To be honest? I have no idea,¡± James answered as he reached into his leather pouch, looking for the vial of cleansing alcohol Dahlia had handed him before he departed. ¡°But I¡¯m not keen on letting it live any longer.¡±

    He proceeded to burn the blackened remains.

 B.2 Chapter 18: Hunting Parties

    Helen lay on the deck, watching the cloudy sky as she contemplated her behavior from last night. Her hangover had finally worn off, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

    ¡®I was a fucking idiot. What was I thinking?¡¯

    Helen sighed as she facepalmed at the memory of that night, recalling how stupid it was of her to drink to the point of damn near blacking out. She peeked through her fingers and looked at Haggard, who was napping by a barrel. Helen remembered vaguely how she had stupidly wanted to go for a ¡®dive,¡¯ jumping into the freezing waters of the canals and dragging the man with her. It was a miracle she didn¡¯t freeze to death, mainly thanks to Haggard and whatever casting he had used to keep them warm once they had gotten out.

    ¡®I¡¯m lucky to have any fingers left from that night¡­¡¯

    Helen closed her eyes. She could hear the crew working around the deck, talking and conversing as they moved. The ex-marauder raised an eyebrow, opening her eyes to look at Haggard again.

    The man responsible for watching her was asleep, his guard down.

    ¡®He must¡¯ve not gotten enough sleep last night,¡¯

    Helen sat up, noticing that none of the crew was paying attention to her. Seamus was also nowhere in sight, possibly beneath the deck. Helen swallowed, looking back at Haggard, her eyes focusing on the small bag that hung from his belt, which contained the key to her shackles. She might get away this time, as there was a skiff still attached to Frostbite.

    ¡®I could make my getaway. None of them can really stop me.¡¯

    Helen looked back at the napping Haggard, his soft snoring grating on her ears. She clenched her fists, looking down at her shackled wrists and ankles.

    ¡°Fuck it.¡±

    She kicked Haggard hard. The man snapped awake, dumbfounded, and looked around in dazed confusion. His tired eyes then seemed to notice Helen, who kicked him again from her sitting position.

    ¡°Wake up, you idiot!¡± She reprimanded, almost shouting at the arsehole. ¡°How stupid can you be to let your guard down?¡± She growled at Haggard, who grumbled as he stood up. The man looked around, searching to see if there was any danger. When he found nothing, he turned to the blonde woman, confusion written on his expression.

    ¡°What are you on about?¡± He asked, his brow furrowing. Helen shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose.

    ¡°You absolute dolt¡­ Did you hit your head or something?¡± She raised her wrists, shaking the chain that connected her shackles. ¡°If I was any other marauder, you would¡¯ve had your throat slit, your ship burnt, and I would¡¯ve been gone for good!¡±

    Haggard blinked, visibly surprised and somehow looking even more dumbfounded.

    ¡°What?¡± He asked dumbly, squinting at Helen as if she had gone mad. Helen breathed in frustration, shaking her head as she rested against a barrel.

    ¡°Dumbass,¡± she muttered.

    ¡°What?¡± Haggard asked once more, his voice sounding even more confused. Helen was about to turn to call him an even bigger dumbass, but her eyes caught the sight of Seamus from across the deck. He was sitting down, reading the map he was holding. Yet his eyes were on her, examining Helen.

    ¡®Was he watching the whole time?¡¯

    Helen¡¯s eyes locked with Seamus¡¯. The young man jumped at the sudden eye contact, his face turning back to his map as if he were reading it the entire time.

    ¡°Huh. Curious,¡± Helen muttered aloud, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair from her eyes. Seamus had been minimizing contact with the ex-marauder for the last couple of days, only speaking with her twice. Even then, Seamus had avoided eye contact and conversation with Helen. However, the ex-marauder didn¡¯t find this surprising, as she knew why he had avoided contact.

    ¡®Seamus Falken¡­¡¯

    She recalled the fake name he had used to avoid certain death from her. Helen was still going to kill him then, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to end the young man. She could still recall that fateful night, how Seamus was covered in the blood of his allies. He was crying then, begging for his life and making himself a pathetic sight.

    ¡®How could someone like that be the son of one of the most dangerous men in Valenfrost?¡¯

    She had asked herself this many, many times. The young man¡¯s father, Yorn, was a monster in combat. That beast of a man had cut through marauders like nothing, taking hits as if they were the blows of a child. Helen had glimpsed at the sight of Yorn two times that night, but she had seen enough to know that it was a gods-given miracle that Deimos had come out on top. The night the Halvorson clan fell was among the bloodiest nights ever fought in Valenfrost. Helen had no doubts about it. The ex-marauder took another glance at the famed son of Yorn. Seamus looked much younger than he was, his bare face and messy bowl-shaped hair making him seem like a bard or scribe.

    ¡®Perhaps Deimos made a mistake in assuming that this Seamus was the son of Yorn.¡¯

    It wouldn¡¯t be the first time that bastard had made a mistake.

    Helen turned away from the young man, focusing her attention on the nearby island, the one that James and his team were currently on. Something then caught Helen¡¯s attention, her eyes squinting to get a better look. She could spot a plume of smoke rising from the island¡¯s trees, almost as if from a campfire.

    ¡®What is that man up to?¡¯

    Helen wondered to herself. James had been nothing but an enigma to her. The young man had somehow cheated death against Deimos, a feat never accomplished. He had also killed off Havor and whatever creature attacked the town during the raid. James had gone against those odds, all while being a complete stranger to everything. Helen could swear James felt off. Her instincts screamed whenever he was around, his presence hostile and foreign to her.

    ¡®It must be the nerves,¡¯ Helen concluded.

    Besides, it wasn¡¯t like James was some foreigner from another world¡­ right?

    <hr>

    Dahlia stopped to take a breather, resting against a tree as puffs of steam rose from her lips. The others took her example, stopping to rest as well. They had been walking a while now, still on the trail of blood and residue from before. Bjorn sat on the snowy ground, groaning as he rested his short legs. The dwarf had to double his pace to catch up with everyone else since he was the shortest of the bunch. Finn was also sitting, searching his bag, as Miles leaned against a nearby tree.

    Dahlia slowly caught her breath, moving to sit down on a fallen log nearby. After clearing the snow away from the log¡¯s top, Dahlia sat down on it, sighing in relief as she gave her legs some much-needed rest. Dahlia felt something rumble inside her, her hand instinctively moving to her stomach.

    ¡®How long has it been since breakfast?¡¯

    Dahlia grimaced as she searched through her leather pouch. Nothing but potions and runes, as well as some plants and medical items.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± she muttered, turning away from the contents of her bag. She was then face to face with Miles, his grinning wooden mask a few centimeters away. His gloved hand rose between them, holding what looked like a rectangular, bland-looking cookie. His thumb and index finger then moved, showing that he was holding three of the bland-looking things.

    ¡°Take it. It¡¯s good for nutrition,¡± he said, holding it out to Dahlia. The shaman cautiously accepted, looking down at the strange rectangles with a bit of mistrust. ¡°They¡¯re not poisoned,¡± Miles suddenly said, as if reading Dahlia¡¯s thoughts. ¡°They¡¯re just ration bars, nothing more, nothing less.¡±

    Dahlia raised an eyebrow at the man, unsure of his words. Still, Miles hadn¡¯t shown true malice the entire time she had known him, so she took the chance. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that her stomach was currently eating itself. Dahlia took a bite out of one ration, noting how dry and salty it was. By the time she finished the first one, she was already reaching for her waterskin, her throat dryer than an Arenian desert.

    She glanced at Miles as she drank the cold water, watching how he ate his rations strangely. He lifted his wooden mask slightly, ensuring no one could see underneath it. He stuck one end of the rations underneath, small crumbs falling as he presumably nibbled on it. Dahlia moved her focus onto Finn, who was eating his own rations, which looked to be dried fruit. Bjorn was gnawing on a salted piece of meat, grimacing at the taste before washing it down with his trusty tin flask.

    As Dahlia was nibbling on her final ration bar, she turned to Miles, who was adjusting his mask back onto his face.

    ¡°Miles, can I ask you something?¡±

    The man stopped with his mask adjustment, turning to look at the shaman.

    ¡°What is it?¡± he asked, curious in his tone. Dahlia hesitated for a moment, wondering if it really was appropriate to bring up a question that she had wanted to ask. In the end, she went with it.

    ¡°Are you really one of the followers of chaos?¡±

    It was a stupid question, especially since the man¡¯s mask obviously displayed the iconic symbol of Myr, the god of chaos. Still, Dahlia couldn¡¯t shake the fact that Miles had been acting pretty normally the entire day. His oddities stood out for sure, but they were hardly comparable to the stories of other followers.

    Miles was quiet momentarily, his grinning mask turning to the woods.

    ¡°No. At least, not anymore,¡± he finally answered, turning to a stunned Dahlia. I left the followers a while ago.¡± The strange man¡¯s words nearly made Bjorn choke on his salted beef.

    ¡°What?¡± the dwarf asked. ¡°You mean you just left? I thought you weren¡¯t allowed to?¡± The mercenary seemed genuinely surprised.

    Miles shrugged. ¡°There aren¡¯t any rules forbidding it. Myr doesn¡¯t like to force his followers to stay loyal. Otherwise, they¡¯ll be slaves.¡±

    Bjorn raised a suspicious eyebrow. ¡°Wait, if you really left, then why the mask and creepy words?¡±

    Miles chuckled at that, his wooden mask looking back at the dwarf, the blank dot eyes seeming to have a bit of life in them. ¡°Old habits die hard, my friend¡­ Besides, I quite like Myr. I just want to pursue his doctrine differently,¡± he spoke out.

    ¡°What would that be?¡± Dahlia asked, wondering what Miles¡¯ motivations could be.

    ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s obvious, is it not?¡± Miles looked at the shaman, who felt uncomfortable as she looked upon his wide grin and blank dot eyes.

    ¡°Try me,¡± she responded.

    Miles looked off at the cloudy sky. ¡°I live to fight alongside interesting people. Believe me when I say this since I have fought with and against many interesting people. Your friend, James, is one of the most fascinating men I have had the pleasure of meeting.¡± The shaman felt surprised, but at the same time, she had expected this.

    ¡®Still¡­¡¯

    ¡°Why?¡± she asked, furrowing her brow.

    ¡°Really? Don¡¯t tell me you haven¡¯t noticed it? That¡­ foreign feeling to him. I have experienced nothing like it¡­ Such a strange feeling¡­¡± Miles chuckled once more. It is truly something else. It is almost otherworldly.¡±

    <hr>

    The snow was no longer hindering their walking, as it was only a few inches instead of the knee-length banks they had been trudging through at the beginning of their journey. James was leading the team through the woods, following a path of blood and messy footprints. They had found the footprints not too long after burning the remains of whatever they had found.

    Following them had led them through the woods, where they found blood and broken branches along the path of footprints. James was unsure of what made the footprints. Still, something told him that whatever was running through the snow was undoubtedly terrified.

    ¡®Be on your guard¡­ You never know what might be in these woods¡­¡¯ Faust warned James as he came across bloodied snow painting a large area. James kept moving on, spotting a couple more spots just like it ahead.

    ¡°No remains,¡± James noted as he followed the frantic footprints.

    ¡°Do you think it¡­ ate them?¡± Edmund suggested. James frowned, recalling his first encounter with the thing. It had seemed to be feasting on the bodies of the marauders killed.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m not sure,¡± James answered. He didn¡¯t really see why the creature would need to feast. It didn¡¯t seem like the type of creature that needed substance, especially since it visibly had its stomach and guts torn out way before James had fought it.

    ¡®Still¡­¡¯

    James looked ahead, squinting past the trees to see if anything was noteworthy.

    ¡°Hold up,¡± he muttered, hurrying his pace. As James rushed his team to follow, he could see a structure ahead. After a minute of hustling through the woods, he stopped, facing a shoddily built gate and wall protecting the entrance to a cave.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°What the¡­?¡± James started before Brent interrupted him.

    ¡°A feral goblin structure¡­ No doubts about it.¡±

    James almost jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of the older man.

    ¡°Goblin? Like little green people?¡± James asked for clarification.

    Brent scoffed. ¡°You make it sound as if they¡¯re harmless,¡± he chuckled as Edmund and Archibald finally caught up.

    ¡°I mean... Aren¡¯t they?¡± James asked. He didn¡¯t see the danger of rabble-like goblins since he had slain thousands of the little bastards in RPGs and MMOs.

    ¡°You must not come out often, do you?¡± Brant asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Sure, one goblin is harmless once you know how to take them out, but you must remember that they are pack animals. They overrun their enemies by sheer numbers alone. Orcs train them to use tactics as well, using them as fodder to soften and open up their enemies. Feral goblins are worse since they don¡¯t have orcs to control their numbers. They use crude weapons and tactics, using every advantage they have.¡± Brant gestured towards the structure. ¡°Judging from the lack of orcs, I¡¯m willing to bet this is a feral goblin hideout.¡±

    James squinted a bit, focusing more on the crude and shoddy gate. ¡°Do they usually leave the gate open?¡± he asked, noticing that it was actually slightly ajar, swinging a little from the chilly breeze.

    ¡°No, they don¡¯t,¡± Brant answered after a couple of silent seconds.

    ¡°We¡¯re not going in there, right?¡± Edmund asked, a nervous look on his face.

    ¡°Why? Are you afraid?¡± Archibald asked, grinning as he stepped up.

    ¡°No!¡± Edmund responded a little too quickly. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ Is it really a good idea?¡±

    There was some silence after Edmund¡¯s words. Everyone but James looked at each other with conflicted looks.

    ¡°Good idea or not, I have a feeling our mystery monster is hiding in there,¡± James said, pointing a finger at the structure once more. James had been staring at a particular spot on the shabby wall, his choice already made for him once he recognized the familiar bloodied stain on the gate. He could hear Edmund groan under his breath as Brant cursed quietly.

    ¡°Whether we like it or not, we¡¯re going in there,¡± James clarified as he walked toward the cave¡¯s entrance. He could hear how the others followed close behind. While he looked stoic and serious, James felt sick internally, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead as he forced himself to walk.

    ¡®Are you sure it¡¯s in there?¡¯ James asked Faust, who answered.

    ¡®I am sure of it. I can feel its presence.¡¯

    Once the group finally entered the cave gate, the smell of rotten flesh hit them, along with a noticeable metal taste in the air.

    ¡®Blood¡­¡¯ James recognized before he instinctively covered his mouth with a sleeve. He looked around the dimmed cave, the only light source coming from the half-opened gate. James stared at the stone walls, seeing streaks of red and black strewn about.

    ¡®But no bodies or remains,¡¯ he noted as well, the absence of which only disturbed him even more.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s mercy¡­¡± He suddenly heard Edmund mutter behind him, along with Archibald¡¯s dry heaving.

    James looked back at his group, seeing how they all reacted to the sight of the cave, their faces full of disgust and shock.

    ¡°Does anyone have a light or something?¡± James asked, his voice muffled behind his sleeve. Archibald raised his hand, his other pinching his nose as he stood straight.

    ¡°I have something,¡± he responded nasally before digging through his belt¡¯s pouches. Ah¡­ here it is.¡± The elf brought out a small blue quartz-looking stone. Archibald then muttered a couple of nonsense words that James didn¡¯t understand into the quartz before it suddenly made a soft humming sound. It then suddenly glowed a bright blue, lighting up the surroundings.

    ¡°Alright,¡± James started, steeling his nerves as he held his hand out for the glowing quartz. ¡°I¡¯ll lead the way,¡± James added as he looked at the elf. Archibald nodded, handing the source of light to him.

    James turned to the cave¡¯s depths, grimacing as he ventured deeper into the darkness, holding out the quartz to light the way. He could hear the rest of the men follow, their feet shuffling and taking care not to trip over the rocky ground. James hoped that the smell of blood would go away soon, but it only got stronger, making him feel sick. He noticed discarded rags as he walked, broken spears, and bloody handprints staining the gray stone.

    ¡°What the hell happened here?¡± James muttered aloud, his instincts screaming at him to run away. Still, he persisted, forcing his feet to move onwards.

    ¡®The same thing it did and tried to do at Yorktown,¡¯ Faust answered, his tone grim and serious. James recalled watching the thing ¡®feast¡¯ upon the dead marauders. He shivered, hoping that he wouldn¡¯t have to see the results of what had transpired in this cave.

    The cave had grown wider the farther they walked, and the number of goblin structures increased. Eventually, they reached a large chamber, where James had no doubt that it had once been the creatures¡¯ booming village. Except the structures were destroyed, and blood was visible upon the wreckage, as well as more broken spears and rocks.

    ¡®No bodies yet,¡¯ James noted, using his foot to lift a bloodied roof that had fallen. No remains were visible, not even the black residue he had seen back outside. James looked back at his group, all of whom had come to the same conclusion as he had.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± Edmund voiced his concern. ¡°No bodies? No remains? James, what the hell are we dealing with?¡± The young man¡¯s tone demanded answers, yet his eyes were filled with a daunting fear. James opened his mouth to answer, but a faint sound caught his attention. He turned around, raising the glowing quartz. He was about to call out but stopped himself.

    ¡®How stupid can I be? Whatever is in here, goblin or not, it¡¯s certainly not friendly.¡¯

    James gulped as he continued his walk, heading to the center of the large chamber they were in. There was a ray of light coming from the cave¡¯s ceiling, illuminating the chamber¡¯s end. James was on his way to the lit spot when he stopped dead in his tracks, his hand instinctively reaching for his head as he scowled. It wasn¡¯t as unbearably painful as last time, but it was unpleasant enough to bring back the foul memory of that ¡®thing¡¯ back when it had entered his head. James reached for the pommel of his sword, ready to fight whatever came from the darkness.

    ¡°Get ready,¡± he suddenly warned. ¡°It¡¯s here.¡± James heard the sounds of his group drawing their weapons, their feet moving to back him up. James himself was about to draw his sword when he saw movement. Everyone went silent, their breaths held as they stared at the spot of light.

    Something suddenly stumbled into the light, groggily moving around as if drunk. It was about a meter tall, its skin blackened and purple, and crystals formed around its head and arms. James blinked, staring at the odd creature.

    It was a goblin, its eyes glowing a soft blue as it looked upon the group of four armed men. The goblin groaned something out, its crystallized hand moving to its frostbitten chest.

    ¡°Frey¡­ Stiks¡­ Grem¡­ Olga¡­¡± It spoke out in a raspy voice before it gasped for air.

    ¡°This is your monster?¡± Archibald commented, his rapier lowering as he laughed in relief. ¡°Oh, thank the gods,¡± he chuckled. The elf approached the goblin as it stumbled around the spot of light.

    ¡°This makes no sense,¡± James muttered.

    ¡®Unless¡­¡¯

    ¡°Archibald, wait¡­¡± James stepped forward quickly, raising his hand to stop the elf.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I got this.¡± Archibald was already at the goblin, kicking it over onto its back. Without hesitation, the elf stepped on the struggling goblin¡¯s neck, his silver rapier already positioned.

    ¡°Archibald, no!¡± James exclaimed before he attempted to stop the mercenary. Before he could do so, the elf stabbed clear through the goblin¡¯s skull, its flailing arms going weak as the light from its eyes died out.

    ¡°See? Easy.¡± The elf grinned. ¡°Now, let¡¯s get out of this cave¡­¡± Archibald trailed off. ¡°What¡¯s with those faces?¡± He asked, confused.

    Unbeknownst to the elf, he was about to die. James and the rest of the group had watched on in horror as multiple glowing eyes opened up in unison, milky blue irises glowing with magic. The many eyes, possibly hundreds, stared at Archibald with hungry looks. The elf slowly turned to meet the horrifying sight, his body going stiff as he was met with the eyes of death incarnate.

    Suddenly, a large crystalized club swung out of the darkness, aimed at the elf¡¯s exposed head. Miraculously, it didn¡¯t hit its mark, as James tackled Archibald at record speed. Both men hit the hard ground in a cloud of dust, with James screaming at the mercenary.

    ¡°Run!¡± The blond man was already moving, picking the elf up by his arms as he tried to escape the monster behind them. James felt something hit his back, knocking the air out of his lungs as he flew to the ground again, hard. James tried to breathe for a solid couple of seconds, failing to do so as he grabbed at his hurting chest.

    ¡®Am I going to suffocate?¡¯ James thought in horror before he suddenly gasped, cold air rushing into his lungs. He turned to see Archibald running off to his dropped rapier as the monster¡¯s eyes stared at the elf hungrily.

    James reached for his leather pouch, pulled out a gray stone, and aimed it at the creature in the way Dahlia had taught him. Without hesitation, James focused his will.

    ¡°Night Spray!¡± he shouted. The rune reacted to his words, the engraved symbol lighting a bright purple as it shot forward many purple firefly-looking projectiles, all homing in onto the creature in front of James. He watched as the projectiles jolted against the thing¡¯s eyes and blackened skin, small explosions causing a chain reaction across its surface. Eyes popped, and purple flames lit up on the skin, causing the creature to roar in anger.

    James scurried away, trying to get some distance away from that thing. He chanced a look at his group, all of whom were taking James¡¯ example in distancing themselves. Archibald had his rapier drawn, a pale look on his face. Edmund, who was nearby, was shaking as he held his sword high. It was obvious that the young mercenary was more than a little rattled. Brant looked to be the most calm, his sword and shield out. James then remembered his own round shield, his hand reaching behind his back as he focused on the creature again. The thing stayed where it was, its eyes moving around unnaturally as it clicked and chattered its teeth.

    Klick klick klick

    ¡®I fucking hate that sound.¡¯

    James gritted his teeth at the grating noise, his sword and shield now equipped, as he stared at the creature before him. Once his eyes were accustomed to the dim lighting, he soon realized that this thing was nothing like the one he fought back at Yorktown. James now knew the answer to why there weren¡¯t any bodies in the cave. The purple flames from the Night Spray spell illuminated the thing¡¯s body, no¡­ bodies.

    ¡®It consumed them all,¡¯ Faust realized.

    James himself was too stunned to reply. His eyes widened with horror as they stared at the many limbs and faces that made up that creature¡¯s ¡®body¡¯. Multiple sets of teeth clacked and chattered across the pruned surface. Its hands and arms reached out and grasped at thin air for no particular reason. It even seemed to walk on malformed limbs, made up of many goblin legs and arms. The club it used earlier comprised multiple limbs melded together, bonded by blunt crystals. James stared at the horrific sight of distorted flesh and teeth, momentarily stunned.

    ¡®Snap out of it,¡¯ Faust said, waking James from his stupor. ¡®Focus.¡¯

    James swallowed, nodding as he raised his shield, which sported a nasty gash. James ignored the idea of what would¡¯ve happened had he not carried the shield on his back.

    ¡°James Holter,¡± the creature suddenly croaked out, stunning James as he stared at the thing. Its voices were like nails on a chalkboard, a symphony of melded-together voices as they cried out. ¡°We have been wanting another confrontation with you¡­¡± James could hear a tinge of excitement in those voices, which made it all the worse.

    ¡°James?¡± Archibald called out. ¡°What is it talking about? Why is it talking?!¡±

    ¡°Not now! Let¡¯s kill this thing first, alright? I¡¯ll explain everything later!¡± James backed away from the creature as its eyes trained on him.

    ¡°What?! What do you mean later?!¡±

    ¡°Archibald, shut the hell up! We need to focus on this¡­ thing.¡± Edmund¡¯s shout seemed to shut up the elf¡¯s babbling, to James¡¯ relief.

    ¡°James, do you have a plan?¡± Brant asked from afar, his voice on the edge of losing its nerve. James nodded, keeping his eyes on the creature.

    ¡°Yeah. Just follow my lead¡­ and don¡¯t get hit.¡± It wasn¡¯t the best idea, let alone a plan, but James had to make it up as he went along.

    ¡®I just hope it doesn¡¯t gut me in the next hour.¡¯

    He gritted his teeth as he made a stance.

    ¡°Carapace!¡±

    <hr>

    Dahlia looked back at her group, stopping to let them catch up to her.

    ¡°We¡¯ll explore every inch of this damned island before we find your ¡®monster¡¯ shaman,¡± Bjorn stated, huffing as he reached Miles and Finn, who slowed their pace to allow the dwarf to catch up.

    ¡°I agree with the dwarf. We¡¯ve been walking the entire day,¡± Finn complained as he wiped his forehead with a green sleeve. ¡°Are you even sure we¡¯re tracking this ¡®creature¡¯ and not some wolf?¡± Finn stopped a couple of meters away from Dahlia, his hand tapping one of the marked trees. ¡°There isn¡¯t any of that black stuff you were so obsessed with¡­ It¡¯s only scratch marks and pieces of fur.¡± The blond man raised an eyebrow at the shaman in suspicion.

    ¡°I might have to agree with him on this one,¡± Miles said, examining the tree Finn had pointed out. ¡°Are you sure you didn¡¯t trail off from the creature¡¯s original path?¡±

    Dahlia tilted her head at the three men, furrowing her brow. ¡°Look, you all can doubt me all you want, but I swear to you I didn¡¯t ¡®trail¡¯ off from the initial tracks, nor did I mistake the tracks for those belonging to a wolf. Just trust me.¡±

    ¡°Hard to put trust in someone who hides information,¡± Bjorn quipped, sitting down on a tree stump. Dahlia looked at the dwarven mercenary.

    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± she asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Means exactly what it means. How can we trust you if you can¡¯t even tell us about what we¡¯re hunting down? You told us how to kill it but nothing about what it is.¡± Bjorn pulled his flask out, taking a swig from it as Dahlia stared at the dwarf.

    ¡®How can I look these people in the eye and tell them that not even I know what we¡¯re hunting. Gods, I¡¯m not even sure if we can truly kill it just by destroying its head.¡¯

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s complicated,¡± Dahlia explained, doing her best to think of any explanation that would do.

    ¡°We have all day,¡± Finn answered, crossing his arms.

    The shaman sighed, clicking her tongue in frustration as she looked for the words. ¡°The thing we¡¯re hunting, well, it¡¯s not¡­ it¡¯s not¡ª¡±

    ¡°Dahlia,¡± Miles suddenly interrupted, catching everyone¡¯s attention. Dahlia looked towards the follower, whose white mask was facing off to the distance into the forest. The shaman turned to the endless forest, squinting to see what Miles was looking at. She then noticed a black lump, black residue, and dark blood staining the trees next to it. How did she not see this before?

    ¡®Exhaustion does a lot to a person¡­¡¯

    ¡°Is that another body?¡± Finn asked. The shaman nodded, stepping forward before feeling her body forcefully hold itself back from another step.

    ¡°This feels wrong,¡± she muttered, unsure why everything felt so¡­ off.

    Still, Dahlia moved on, forcing herself to approach the black lump. The space between the trees seemed to be closer together now, almost as if suffocating the shaman. Dahlia could hear her breathing grow short and ragged as she grew closer to the deformed corpse ahead. She shut her eyes, hoping the claustrophobia would disappear if she wasn¡¯t looking.

    It only felt worse, however, her throat going dry and her lungs feeling as if they were being squeezed. She opened her eyes, now only a few meters away from the blackened remains. It reeked of rotted flesh, which was expected. Dahlia knelt down, leaning in to get a better look at the twisted corpse.

    This was a wolf¡¯s corpse, its head disfigured and skin pruned and crystallized. Half of its body was gone, leaving its blackened guts spilled out on a disgusting heap.

    ¡°What the¨C¡±

    Dahlia was interrupted when someone tackled her to the snow-covered ground, air rushing out from her lungs. The shaman turned to see Miles¡¯ grinning mask face to face with her. She opened her mouth to shout, but her voice died in her throat as a crystalized paw smashed through the nearby tree, splintering wood and sending bark flying.

    Dahlia felt her body go limp in fear as she stared at the horrifying creature that had nearly taken her head. It was hunched over, patches of brown fur spotting its blackened and pruned skin, crystals covering its torso and limbs. Its naked snout snarled at Dahlia, blue glowing eyes staring her down as it stood on its hind legs, its paws raised as it roared at her. It was well over three meters, rippling muscles now visible since it barely had any fur. Despite its unnatural appearance, Dahlia knew exactly what it used to be.

    ¡°It¡¯s a fucking bear!¡± she managed out finally, her eyes widening in fear.

    ¡°Run!¡± Miles shouted, moving to pull her up and away from the terrifying amalgamation of flesh and crystals.

 B.2 Chapter 19: The Abominations

    ¡°Precision Strike!¡±

    James heard Archibald shout out a casting, the elf¡¯s rapier glowing a bright blue before it pierced into the flesh of the Lovecraftian abomination. It screeched in its many voices, the sounded unbearable to James¡¯ ears. Despite the grating noise, James pulled himself together enough to dodge another strike from the thing¡¯s crude club. The crystallized arm struck against the cave¡¯s ground, sending stone fragments everywhere. James felt the pieces strike his helmet, pinging it as they bounced off the steel. He watched as Archibald tried to go for another strike; his rapier aimed for another spot.

    ¡°Precision Stri¡ª¡± Archibald was interrupted mid-stab, getting hit by another of the thing¡¯s arms. Its mangled fist struck the elf in the chest and sent him flying back. Thankfully, the strike wasn¡¯t fatal, as the elf gasped for air a few seconds later. Still, he was far from the clear. James saw how the creature tried to rush at the fallen elf, only to be distracted by a thrown rock courtesy of Edmund.

    ¡°Over here!¡± The young mercenary shouted, his voice cracking as he kept his distance. The creature roared at Edmund but didn¡¯t charge at him. James felt sweat run down his temple, watching how the creature stared intensely at Edmund.

    ¡®Why isn¡¯t it taking the bait?¡¯ James wondered, dread filling his heart.

    Suddenly, the thing¡¯s eyes shifted, one of its many arms reaching out and grabbing at Brant, who was doing his best to sneak behind it. The broad-shouldered man struggled as the thing clicked excitedly, its crude arm club raising.

    ¡®He¡¯s going to die if I don¡¯t do something!¡¯

    ¡°Hey!¡± James shouted as he rushed forth. His callout caught the abomination¡¯s attention, its eyes turning to focus on James, who held his sword so that it seemed like he was going for a stab. It reacted by raising its blunted arm in defense.

    James, however, wasn¡¯t planning on attacking. He instead raised his shield, bashing it against the creature. It was a desperate attempt to knock it off its balance. It didn¡¯t work. Instead of falling over, the abomination retaliated, knocking the shield away and swinging its crystallized arm at the young man.

    James felt his body forcefully drop to the ground, his ass hitting the ground hard. He felt something strike against the top of his helmet, causing the steel piece of armor to fly off instantly and leave his blond hair open to the cold air.

    ¡®Faust, thank you.¡¯

    James quickly moved to Brant, sword in hand. He could see how the other man was struggling to get the creature¡¯s hands off of him, one of its hands even choking Brant. With little hesitation, James swung down at the black arms, his sword slicing through the dead flesh and freeing the trapped man. Brant gasped as he tore the limp arm away from his throat, panting heavily as he fell to his knees.

    ¡°James, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Drop!¡± James tackled the man, feeling the air behind him whoosh as the abomination swung its club again. It roared in anger right after.

    ¡°Edmund!¡± James shouted, hoping the young mercenary knew what to do.

    ¡°Night Spray!¡± Edmund¡¯s voice rang out before the creature roared in anger once more.

    James picked himself and Brant up, pushing him to move. Without thinking, he risked a glance at the thing behind him. The abomination was now focused on Edmund, purple flames licking at its flesh and bloody eye sockets. James left right then and now, heading to where Brant was.

    ¡®Plan A seemed to be a failure,¡¯ Faust mentioned as James reached a safe distance.

    ¡®Yeah, but it seems like Plan B worked well,¡¯ the young man thoughtfully retorted.

    ¡®You almost lost your head¡­¡¯

    ¡®And I thank you for helping avoid that.¡¯

    James slowly caught his breath before looking at Edmund, who dropped the now useless rune on the ground.

    ¡°How¡¯s Archibald?¡± James asked Brant, looking over at the man. He was currently picking up the elf, who was breathing raggedly.

    ¡°Alive,¡± Brant answered.

    The elf stood straight, controlling his breathing as he looked at James. ¡°You said we have to destroy its head, right? How are we going to kill this thing if it has multiple heads? I barely managed to pierce a few of its skulls, and I almost died!¡± The elf looked back at the creature, his eyes focused on his fallen rapier. ¡°I doubt I¡¯ll survive another hit like that.¡±

    James looked back at the creature, furrowing his brow. Edmund slowly backed away towards the group, sword at the ready, as the creature¡¯s eyes moved around unnaturally. It was as if it was examining everyone.

    ¡°That was our last rune, James. Do you have another plan?¡± Edmund asked. James swallowed, trying to think of anything that could help. He could feel the Carapace spell idly working its magic, giving him a sense not too dissimilar to a warm blanket wrapped around his body.

    ¡®Multiple heads. Need to destroy them all somehow.¡¯

    James noticed his shield lying on the ground next to the creature. An inkling of an idea formed in his head. It was a crazy one, but it was better than nothing. James reached into his leather bag, searching through the contents before he felt the rough grid pattern of the orb Dahlia had given him.

    ¡°Alright, I have a plan that could work,¡± he started before he turned to everyone. ¡°But I need you all to trust me, alright? It could mean life and death.¡± James wasn¡¯t kidding, as this hastily put-together plan could mean death for all of them. The only way it would ever work was if they all trusted him. The group all seemed conflicted, hesitant even. Brant, however, spoke up.

    ¡°I trust you,¡± the older man stated, looking at James with a look that said, ¡®Don¡¯t you dare lie to me.¡¯

    Edmund let out an exasperated sigh, clenching his jaw as he looked at James. ¡°I trust you.¡±

    James looked towards Archibald, who averted his eyes as he muttered.

    ¡°Fine¡­ I trust you.¡±

    <hr>

    Dahlia dodged the paw of the crystalized bear, watching as it tore out a chunk of the tree that took her place. It roared at her once more before a throwing knife struck its flesh, making a sickening noise as it did so. Dahlia turned to see Miles throwing another knife at the bear, running around it as he tried to get its attention. It worked as the creature turned to face the mercenary, standing on its hind legs. Before it could rush, however, Bjorn came out of nowhere, holding his steel shield as he charged at the bear. The dwarf bashed against the abomination, causing it to lose balance and fall on its side.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± Bjorn shouted, his ax glowing red as it swung down at the malformed bear, striking against its flank. Still, despite the magically enhanced strike, the ax¡¯s blade buried itself halfway into the blackened skin, not gutting it as Bjorn had hoped. The dwarf tried desperately to pull the ax, failing as the bear growled and raised its claws.

    ¡°No!¡± Dahlia shouted, running at the dwarf. Thankfully, Bjorn was pulled back by Finn, the bear¡¯s sharp claws barely clipping his steel helmet.

    Dahlia quickly changed direction, withdrawing away from the bear as it moved to charge at her. She grabbed the rune she had in her belt¡¯s pouches, fumbling as she backed away. Still, the shaman knew she wouldn¡¯t have enough time to use it against the bear as it suddenly galloped at her at frightening speed.

    Dahlia gave up on the rune, dodging the bear¡¯s charge by leaping to her right. She landed on the snowy ground, scratching up her arms and face. She turned to the beast, scurrying away as it skidded to a stop, sending snow flying as it changed direction. Suddenly, a glass bottle shattered against its snout, causing the creature to roar in anger as it shook its head.

    Dahlia noticed the viscous liquid staining its snout, a result of the bottle¡¯s contents. Smoke emitted from it as it sizzled against the beast¡¯s flesh. Another bottle hit it, this time contacting its shoulder. It had the same effect as the other bottle, its contents burning through the rotted flesh.

    ¡°Get up!¡± Miles¡¯ voice rang out behind her. The shaman did as suggested without question, her gaze turning to see Miles with another bottle in hand. He threw this one as well, the vial making an arc toward the crystallized bear. It broke across its torso, burning through more flesh and causing it to roar in pain.

    ¡°We should run,¡± Miles panted, his chest moving rapidly as he caught his breath. ¡°That was my last one.¡±

    Dahlia felt a bit of despair, hoping that the man had a sort of plan. Still, she had her own projectiles. She reached into her belt¡¯s pouch again, pulling out the rune she was fumbling with earlier.

    ¡°Here, it has a casting of Night Spray,¡± she explained. She handed it to Miles before pulling out her second and last rune of Night Spray. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best to distract it. You and the others should have enough time to devise something.¡±

    Miles looked down at the rune before pocketing it. ¡°Good luck,¡± he managed, his breathing returning to normal. ¡°Don¡¯t die,¡± he quickly added before Dahlia ran off.

    The shaman circled around the stunned bear, grabbed a random stone from the ground, and threw it at the creature.

    ¡°Over here! Come and get it!¡± Dahlia shouted.

    The bear turned its attention to the shaman, its cold blue eyes haunting. It felt as if it was staring right into her soul. The bear growled loudly before it charged at her. Dahlia turned and ran for it, her hand gripping her last rune as she zig-zagged through the trees. She was careful not to trip as the sound of wood splintering and dirt being pulled became closer and closer. She quickly made a sharp turn, hoping to gain some distance as she rushed to a nearby opening.

    Once reaching the snowy clearing, Dahlia risked a glance at the bear, her eyes widening as she noticed how close it had gotten. The shaman aimed her rune, focusing her will as she shouted.

    ¡°Night Spray!¡±

    The rune activated, a swarm of purple fireflies firing from the smooth glass surface. Dahlia watched as the bear skidded to a stop, roaring in pain as the small projectiles struck its rotted hide and crystalized bits. Bits of burning flesh and crystals flew off as the swarm of minor explosions ripped at its body.

    Dahlia dropped the hot stone before sprinting past the bear as she tried to head to where her group was. However, she would regret doing so as the abomination swung its paw at the shaman. Fortunately, she dodged it by centimeters, feeling the claws clip her arm.

    Unfortunately, she didn¡¯t expect a second swing, as the creature brought back its arm like a pendulum, affecting her and sending the shaman rolling toward the trees. Dahlia felt her body tumble and impact against bark and ground, the world spinning before her head hit something, sending her into darkness.

    <hr>

    ¡°Just pick yourself up and press forth.¡±

    James repeated those words in his head, the memory of his father¡¯s voice comforting in a way. Well, almost. James took a deep breath and shook away all fear he felt in the moment, his focus on the creature in front of him. It stayed its distance, its eyes looking at everything. James glanced at the rest of his group, all spread out in the cave.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡®Let¡¯s do this.¡¯

    James let out a shout, loud and full of adrenaline. Without giving himself a chance to hesitate, his legs moved, carrying his body into danger. He rushed the abomination, short sword aimed at its flesh.

    The monster focused all of its eyes on James, widening as it moved to retaliate with its club. James felt Faust force his body again, making him drop and slide underneath the crystalized arm. James watched as his nose barely brushed against the crude club, his hair sweeping back from the wind it caused.

    Once clear, James enacted his next action, his hands positioning his sword¡¯s hilt. With a thrust and shout, he drove his blade deep into one of the creature¡¯s eyes, the steel only sinking in halfway. The crystallized monster screeched in pain, all of its eyes turning to focus on James again. It swung its club once more, aiming at the young man¡¯s torso. However, James was counting on it as he ditched the sword for his nearby fallen shield, holding it up against his chest just as the club¡¯s swing came in.

    James felt the impact just milliseconds later, his body flying back from the hit as the shield snapped. His Carapace spell then broke, a sound like shattering glass filling his ears as he hit the stone wall. Blue magical shards flew out from his overheating body as the taste of berries filled his mouth. James was still alive, his chest begging for air as he fell to his knees.

    ¡®Breathe!¡¯

    ¡°Now!¡± James shouted once air reached his lungs. He watched as Brant came in, bashing his shield against the creature as it tried to reach James. The abomination turned to the man, raising its club before Edmund arrived, the young mercenary grabbing at the short sword James left in its side. Edmund screamed as he forced the blade across its flesh, tearing it open with a sickening shink. The monster screeched again, its eyes widening as it made agonizing sounds. Archibald came in right after with his rapier.

    ¡°Multi-Strike!¡± the elf shouted. His rapier turned into a blueish blur of machine-gun-like blows, its fast-moving tip stabbing out eyes on the creature¡¯s opposite flank.

    The abomination would try to get the elf but would be interrupted by Brant, then by Edmund, then by Archibald, leading it to be ganged up on by all three men. In Earthly terms, the thing was basically stun-locked. However, even James knew it wouldn¡¯t last for long. Brant and Archibald were at their limits, their exhaustion apparent in their sluggish strikes and movements.

    Still, they wouldn¡¯t need to hold the line much longer as James dug through his leather bag. He brought out the orb that Dahlia had given him, his hands twisting the gridlike surface. It made a loud ¡®snap,¡¯ almost like it had been broken. James knew better, however, as he rushed at the abomination. He could see how Edmund forced the short sword to cut deeper into the monster¡¯s flesh, opening it up even more.

    ¡°Get out of the way! Now!¡± James shouted at the men. He held up his broken shield with his left hand and held the orb in his right. The men did as told, scurrying back as James shouted again, this time at the creature.

    ¡°Over here!¡±

    The abomination stopped his pursuit of the men, looking back at James with hostile eyes. Despite it¡¯s

    ¡®Drop!¡¯ Faust mentally shouted.

    James took the advice immediately as he dove to the ground, avoiding the club¡¯s swing again. He gritted his teeth as he focused on the open wound, picking himself up as he rushed forth. Another swing came into his peripheral, but James didn¡¯t drop. He couldn¡¯t afford to.

    James raised his broken shield, ready to take the hit. He didn¡¯t have to, however, as Brant moved in. The older man came in out of nowhere, bracing himself with his round shield. The club struck true, the sound of steel and crystals clashing filling the cave like thunder as Brant flew back, shield destroyed and splintered. James didn¡¯t even have time to thank the man as he looked at his goal.

    James finally reached the gash, his right hand shoving the orb as deep as possible. The abomination roared, the sound of its many voices crying out in pain. It was a disturbing sound, one that almost shook James. Yet he didn¡¯t falter one bit. His focus was on killing this thing once and for all.

    With the orb deep in the abomination¡¯s core, James tried to pull away. Instead, small blackened hands reached out, grabbing at his arms and shoulders. The otherworldly man tried to escape the horrifying situation, his arms thrashing and swinging. The abomination only tried harder, its hands grabbing at James¡¯ head.

    Everything went white. James could feel how his mind clashed with many, his body jolting suddenly as he felt the rush of adrenaline and fear enter his body. It stopped as quickly as it had shown up, his mind reeling back from the force of what had happened. The creature¡¯s many mouths suddenly screeched, the sound echoing in the cave with a thunderous volume.

    ¡®What the hell was that?!¡¯

    James didn¡¯t have time to process what happened as the small arms pulled him closer to the abomination¡¯s many maws.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± he cursed, fully expecting the creature to use this chance to take a bite at him. Instead of feeling its teeth, however, he heard Archibald¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Multi-Strike!¡±

    ¡°Keep it distracted!¡± Edmund¡¯s voice came right after.

    James¡¯ eyes widened.

    ¡®They¡¯re risking themselves to give me more time¡­¡¯

    ¡°Get away! NOW!¡± James shouted as he ripped away from the many small hands that were pulling at him. He was already rushing to Brant, picking the injured man up as he tried to distance himself from the thing behind him.

    The orb he had shoved in there earlier was courtesy of the two gnomes back in Nathan¡¯s shop in Vindis. They had filled it to the near brim with a special powder they had borrowed from their cousins from the north. The artificer-made grenade was activated by twisting its outer shell, activating its runic ¡®circuitry¡¯ and sending it into a countdown of sorts that lasted for a minute. After that¡­

    James felt the world shake as a deafening BOOM sounded out in the cave, the heat and shrapnel reaching his back as he covered Brant.

    His world was plunged into darkness.

    <hr>

    Dahlia suddenly awoke. Her vision blurred as she crawled. She could feel something warm run down her temple, the taste of metal apparent in her mouth. Dahlia¡¯s vision slowly cleared as she looked down at the snowy ground, drops of red staining the glistening snow.

    ¡°Blood,¡± she dumbly realized. Dahlia looked up, the events of that day coming back to her. The bear, her attempt at distracting it, the impact of its paw against her back.

    ¡®How am I not dead?¡¯

    She soon got her answer. Dahlia looked upon the scene to her right, specifically the clearing she was in earlier. The three men were fighting the bear, shouting incoherently at each other. Finn had a nasty gash on his side. Bjorn had lost his helmet at some point, using his dented shield to block the claws of the abomination. Miles was slashing at its side, a spent rune in his hand. Judging from the purple flames and torn flesh, Dahlia guessed that the bear was heavily wounded. It had even lost one of its eyes at some point.

    It wasn¡¯t enough, however, as even she could see how one-sided the fight was becoming. She saw how Finn tried for another strike but instantly faltered as he grabbed at his bleeding wound. The bear attempted to swing at the man, but Bjorn¡¯s shield bash interrupted it, causing its claws to miss Finn completely.

    The abomination growled as it swung its arm back, just like it had done to Dahlia. Its blackened and crystalized arm jolted against the dwarf¡¯s shield, sending him flying back. Miles rushed and sank his strange blade into the thing¡¯s side, drawing a roar.

    Miles tried to pull his sword out before it suddenly kicked him away, his short sword ripped from the flesh during the movement.

    ¡®They¡¯re going to die if I do nothing.¡¯

    Dahlia raised her hand to the creature and tried to form the runic symbol for an Ignition spell. However, her fingers shook too much, and the symbol came out false and useless.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± Dahlia cursed under her breath. She attempted to still and focus her fingers. Still, she couldn¡¯t focus enough to form the spell, her fingers and hands shaking uncontrollably.

    ¡®What can I do? I¡¯m useless¡­¡¯

    Dahlia stared at her shaking hands. She clenched them tightly, enough to make her knuckles turn white. She then suddenly recalled the artificer-made device she had gotten from the gnomes at the Vindis. What were they called again?

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± she muttered, wincing painfully as she tried to stand. Her hand went to her belt to search for the orb in question. Nothing. Her eyes widened. She looked down at her waist as fear gripped her heart. Her belt and satchel were gone, along with all of her potions and sheathed dagger, possibly thrown off of her person when that damned creature knocked her out.

    ¡°Fuck¡­ Fuck!¡± Dahlia cursed. She looked around the forest to see if it was nearby. Her eyes widened, finally focusing on the lost piece of apparel, only to find it around the crystalized bear¡¯s hind legs, half-buried by snow.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± Dahlia panted, her breath coming out in puffs of steam as her lungs stung from the freezing air. She looked back at the fight at hand, seeing how Miles was precise with his sword, doing his best to stab at the creature¡¯s weak points. An idea appeared in her head.

    Dahlia turned to Bjorn, who was getting back up again. She made her way to the dwarf, controlling her breathing as she did so.

    ¡°Bjorn!¡± she called, catching his attention. Bjorn looked at the shaman with a surprised look, which turned into an excited grin.

    ¡°You¡¯re still kicking, it seems! Good! This creature ain¡¯t going to go down so easily¡­¡± The dwarf chuckled before he punched out the dent in his steel shield with the pommel of his ax.

    ¡°I have a plan,¡± Dahlia said. She looked back at the creature as Finn and Miles held it at bay, which would not last very long. ¡°You need to listen very carefully.¡± She looked down at the dwarf, who regained his breath and composure.

    ¡°I¡¯m listening,¡± Bjorn huffed.

    ¡°I need you to aim for its hind legs with your Power Strike,¡± Dahlia explained in strained breaths. ¡°After that, Miles is going to come in and blind it. Once that¡¯s done, you all need to hold it in place, keep it distracted.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯re you going to do?¡± Bjorn asked, curious.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to destroy it for good. Use a little trick up my sleeve. But I need you to run as soon as I say so.¡± She gave the dwarf a look. ¡°This is important. Do not wait for me. Do not save me. Just run when I say so, and don¡¯t look back. Tell this to the others, too. Got it?¡±

    The dwarf nodded, readying his shield and ax. ¡°Just say the word, and I¡¯ll get it done,¡± he said, returning his attention to the clearing. Dahlia nodded and looked at Miles.

    ¡®I really hope this works.¡¯

    Dahlia silently offered a prayer to Freyja before she breathed in the cold air. Her eyes examined the fight ahead, looking for the perfect moment for the mercenary to step in. She didn¡¯t have to wait long as Miles dodged a desperate strike from the crystalized bear, leaving a window where it was wide open.

    ¡°Do it!¡± Dahlia called to Bjorn, who rushed at her signal.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± The dwarf cast, his bearded ax gaining a red tint as it aimed for the thing¡¯s left hind leg. The attack struck true, making a sickening sound of flesh and steel as the abomination dropped low, leaving its head open.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Dahlia called to Miles, catching the ex-follower¡¯s attention. ¡°Aim for its eye!¡± She shouted, forcing herself to move as she took one more deep breath. She had only one chance at this, so she needed to make it count. Dahlia watched how Miles took her advice, moving in with his sword.

    Dahlia took it as her queue, forcing herself to run at the reanimated bear before her. The shaman saw how the abomination turned to look at her, its lone eye burning into hers as it prepared to meet her sprint. Fortunately for the shaman, Miles¡¯ attack had already reached the thing¡¯s head, his sharp blade sinking into its only remaining eye.

    ¡°Do what you need to do!¡± Miles shouted as he held onto his sword¡¯s wrapped pommel, the creature roaring as it swung Miles around. Dahlia gritted her teeth as she rushed at the creature, seeing how it blindly swung at where she was initially headed towards. She slid underneath its crystalized arm, feeling the wind from its missed blow as she dodged its attack.

    Once close enough, Dahlia reached for her half-buried belt and satchel, her free hand quickly searching through one of the pouches. She did her best to avoid the abomination¡¯s lumbering form before her fingers grasped onto the familiar orb. Dahlia quickly pulled the gnome-made device out of her belt¡¯s pouches, using her remaining strength to twist it in half.

    She heard a loud snap from the device, signifying it was now armed. Dahlia silently started counting the seconds, reaching into her belt for her gauze. She kept close to the dangerous abomination, avoiding its wild swings as she wrapped the orb in the bandaging, adhesive side out.

    ¡®48¡­ 47¡­ 46¡­¡¯

    Dahlia mentally counted before moving to attach the gnomish creation to the bear¡¯s side. She made sure the orb was snugly fitted onto its frostbitten and crystalized skin before moving to get the hel away from it. She glanced at her group, who were still too close to the creature¡¯s proximity.

    ¡°Get the hell away from it! Now!¡± Dahlia shouted.

    ¡®30¡­ 29¡­ 28¡­¡¯

    She silently counted as she turned tail and ran, nearly tripping over rocks and raised roots as she did so.

    ¡®25¡­ 24¡­ 23¡­¡¯

    Dahlia risked another look. She could see how everyone was hauling ass, getting far from the blinded abomination. Dahlia suddenly tripped, her knees and elbows scraping against the ground as her foot caught a root.

    ¡®20¡­ 19¡­¡¯

    ¡°Fuck!¡± she cursed. She scrambled to get up, her knees buckling under the pressure and stress of the situation.

    ¡®14¡­ 13¡­ 12...¡¯

    Dahlia was still close to the abomination, barely ten meters from the clearing. If she could make it just a little farther¡­

    BOOM

    There was then a loud explosion, bits of shrapnel grazing the shaman as the explosion¡¯s heat reached her. Dahlia wasn¡¯t sure how, but she lost consciousness then, her entire world going dark.

 B.2 Chapter 20: Recovery

    James was in the mindscape, his eyes looking up at the dark oblivion that was the sky.

    ¡°Why am I here?¡± he asked aloud, his eyes looking for Faust. The Centurion was nowhere in sight, the only thing visible being the water that spanned for miles.

    ¡°You are here because of us,¡± a legion of voices called out. ¡°James Holter.¡±

    James jolted at the sound of his name, his eyes searching the mindscape. Nothing was in sight, but the young man could still feel a presence with him.

    ¡°It¡¯s you, isn¡¯t it?¡± James¡¯ thoughts came out of his lips, echoing in the mindscape. He gritted his teeth at the realization. ¡°You¡¯re the thing who tried to enter my mind that day. Back when we first met.¡±

    ¡°You still recall the sound of our voices? Good.¡± The legion of voices, both human and goblin, sounded joyful at the idea of James remembering.

    ¡°You monster. I¡¯m going to burn you down and¡ª¡±

    ¡°And dance on my corpse. Yes, we are familiar with your current thoughts. You have such an interesting mind. Shame we cannot take it over.¡± The voices sounded genuinely coherent, unlike the last time the young man had clashed with it.

    James wasn¡¯t sure what to make of it since his last exposure to its mind gave him a genuine idea of the abomination. That the thing was stupid and hungry. Now, however, the thing sounded intelligent. Like it was beginning to develop and mature.

    ¡°When this is all over, you will be gone,¡± James called out. He forced down his instinctual fear of the idea. It was dead now. Those Lumen Knights had also promised to get rid of this thing forever once they got hold of the samples. Soon enough, this nightmare would end.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be erased from this world, gone away like a weak disease,¡± James reinforced.

    ¡°We doubt it.¡±

    ¡°You sound sure of yourself despite the fact that you¡¯re nothing more than bits and pieces,¡± James shot back. He looked around the mindscape, trying to see where the voices came from.

    ¡°We can always rebuild.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t let you. No matter what, I¡¯ll keep hunting you down. I¡¯ll keep burning your bodies, and I¡¯ll keep doing it until you are nothing!¡± James shouted out these words, feeling his anger boil. His emotions faltered, and his eyes focused on a distant cloud emerging from the darkness. It moved like an animal, its shape unrecognizable. The thing¡¯s shape was beyond comprehension, yet James was watching it, staring at it.

    ¡°You will fail or die trying. No matter what you do, you will lose,¡± it spoke out before it quickly dissipated. James could feel something cold brush against his back.

    ¡°You are a coward deep inside, under all that bravado. You hesitate to do what is necessary. To go against your own morals. You can destroy our bodies, Sure. But will we be the only one in your way?¡±

    ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± James asked, his fists clenched. Despite the thing being behind his back, James didn¡¯t dare look at it. Something deep in his instincts, something primal, told him it would result in him losing his sanity.

    ¡°How can a man like you stop us when you cannot even bring yourself to take a life¡­¡±

    The whispers tickled James¡¯ ears, sending a surge of adrenaline through him. Before he could even manage an answer, the Outlander was whisked away and sent back to the waking world.

    <hr>

    There was the sound of constant ringing and blurred voices. James blinked, his vision slowly returning to normal as he tried to sit up, his lungs begging for oxygen. He tried to breathe but only coughed, forcing him to turn over on all fours. James spat and hacked onto the stone ground, his double vision finally going away as he focused.

    ¡°Blood,¡± he muttered, noticing the crimson mixed with his dirty spit. James groaned, standing up on his knees as he tried to get his bearings.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s mercy! He¡¯s alive!¡± An audible voice sounded out amongst the blurred ones.

    James blinked, looking towards the source. Some light was coming in through the roof of the cave, but it wasn¡¯t enough for James to identify the man rushing towards him. Suddenly, James felt his instincts react. Faust¡¯s spirit flared inside of him as he was suddenly back in Yorktown, burning buildings around him as fog and smoke obscured the running form of the marauder.

    ¡®Enemies!¡¯ Faust shouted mentally, his voice clear as day. James reached for his sword, only to find it gone from his side, lost at some point.

    ¡°Get the hell away!¡± James gritted his teeth as he shouted, forcing himself to stand as his hands grabbed the nearest weapon, a broken piece of a round shield. The marauder stopped, surprised at James¡¯ words.

    ¡°What?¡± He asked in a confused tone, raising his hands. Another marauder showed up behind the first one, slowly walking towards the young man.

    ¡°Hey! Calm down!¡±

    Both marauders slowly approached James, no weapons in hand.

    ¡®It must be a trick!¡¯

    ¡°Get back! Now!¡± James shouted, feeling a sudden heat flare up around his eyes. The marauders stopped at that, visibly stunned.

    ¡°J-James, it¡¯s us!¡± One of them suddenly spoke up, his voice stammering as he raised his hands in surrender.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s us! Edmund and Archibald! Lower the¡­ shield, please.¡±

    ¡®Archibald? Edmund?¡¯ James blinked, suddenly back inside the cave. He felt himself relax, dropping his improvised weapon. -Still, there was something strange about how the two mercenaries looked at him. He soon noticed how the world gained a faint blueish tint.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± James winced, closing his eyes as he placed a palm on his forehead. It was hot to the touch, as if he had a fever.

    ¡°Gods.¡± He heard Brant¡¯s voice suddenly speak out from behind Archibald.

    ¡°I can see his skull,¡± Edmund pointed out. His voice had a tinge of fear. James opened his eyes again, noticing how a blue glow bathed his surroundings.

    ¡°He looks like a draugr,¡± Brant added, visible from afar. James looked down at his hands, realizing that the source of the blue glow and its heat was coming from his eyes.

    ¡®James, you¡¯re going to need to calm yourself and focus.¡¯ Faust sounded exhausted, strained almost.

    James followed the spirit¡¯s words, focusing his will as he shut his eyes once more. He took a deep breath, clenching his fists and releasing them slowly. The heat slowly died, leaving James in his normal, tired self. The young blond man then collapsed, groaning as he fell to his knees. Archibald and Edmund rushed to his side, helping him up as they dragged him to where Brant was.

    James watched as they did so, his eyes passing over the many bits and pieces of the creature they had fought earlier. Smoking limbs and burnt flesh littered the ground, reeking of an awful smell. James scrunched his nose, making a disgusted face as he forcefully looked away from the sight.

    The two mercenaries sat James next to Brant, who was holding his right arm in pain. He didn¡¯t seem to care about his arm, nor about the many cuts across his arm and face. He was fixated on James, who looked back with a worried look.

    ¡°What the hell was that? Your eyes¡ªthey looked cursed,¡± the older man said, moving to face James.

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    ¡°I agree with Brant here. What happened back there? Why did your eyes glow like that?¡± Edmund knelt down, brow furrowed.

    ¡°Not only that, but that thing¡­ It spoke your name. As if it knew you,¡± Archibald mentioned. ¡°You need to explain. Now.¡±

    James sighed, moving to get comfortable in his spot.

    ¡®Should I tell them everything?¡¯ James thought to Faust, who did something akin to mentally shrugging his shoulders.

    ¡®Best if you tell them the more ¡®believable parts¡¯ instead of the whole ¡®from another world¡¯ thing¡­¡¯

    James could agree with that since he knew even Seamus had a hard time believing that story.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll do my best to explain¡­ this.¡± James gestured at the smoking pieces of the abomination. ¡°And why my eyes were glowing the way they were,¡± James looked back at his group, taking a deep breath.

    ¡°It started back in Yorktown, a small fishing town south of Valenfrost.¡±

    <hr>

    Helen looked off at the island Dahlia and her team had embarked on, squinting to see if she could spot the source of the loud boom.

    ¡°What the hel is happening?¡± Haggard asked with a look of surprise on his face.

    ¡°Not sure. You think things went down badly?¡± Helen asked before she looked back at the deck. Everyone was staring at the island, murmuring amongst themselves. She could spot Seamus over by the railing. His brow furrowed as he looked on worriedly.

    ¡°I think we should check on them. We still have that third boat.¡± Haggard said as he moved away from the railing, causing Helen to raise an eyebrow.

    ¡°What? Are you serious?¡± She asked, following Haggard across the deck. ¡°You¡¯re just going to leave me here with that coward, Seamus?¡±

    ¡°He won¡¯t have to,¡± a voice called out. Helen jumped, surprised by Seamus¡¯ sudden appearance. He had a determined look on his face as he walked past the ex-marauder.

    ¡°I¡¯m coming with you,¡± Seamus stated, to which Haggard nodded in approval.

    ¡°Alright, get the rowboat ready. I¡¯ll be there in a minute.¡± Haggard patted Seamus on the shoulder as the young man hurried across the deck. The towering man then glanced at Helen. ¡°I guess you¡¯ll be staying behind the marauder.¡±

    ¡°Ex-marauder,¡± Helen emphasized, teeth gritting. She had no issue being seen as a criminal, but she would never be associated with that asshole Deimos. ¡°I can help you know,¡± she added, sighing softly.

    Haggard chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°I know you can; the only problem is will you help?¡± There was some silence between the two, neither speaking before Seamus called out.

    ¡°Haggard, let¡¯s go!¡±

    ¡°Coming!¡± Haggard waved off the younger man, calling back. He pushed past Helen, moving to call over the shipmaster. Helen clenched her jaw tightly, cursing under her breath before she turned on her heels, facing Haggard with a burning gaze.

    ¡°Hey!¡± she called out, her words stopping the man.

    Haggard turned around, raising an amused eyebrow. He didn¡¯t speak, instead opting to cross his arms expectantly as he awaited an answer. Helen hated Haggard for that, swallowing her pride as she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath before finally speaking.

    ¡°I¡­ I will help,¡± Helen forced out.

    ¡°Why?¡± Haggard then asked, that stupid, amused look still on his face. Helen gritted her teeth, lowering her voice.

    ¡°Because if you or that shaman were to die¡­ I¡¯ll be left in these.¡± She raised her shackles to show a point. The truth was, if Dahlia were to die, it would leave Helen shackled without a key. She doubted the shaman would risk the key with someone here, least of all Haggard himself.

    ¡®And even if she left the key with Seamus, I doubt he¡¯ll be able to fight well enough to save his own life.¡¯

    She could always convince the crew to let her free or help break the shackles off. Still, she doubted they would want to help anyone associated with the Marauders of the North, ex or otherwise.

    ¡°Ah, fucking marauders! I wouldn¡¯t expect less,¡± Haggard guffawed, shaking his head. He responded, his laughing getting on Helen¡¯s nerves. The woman suddenly stepped forward, grabbing the taller man by the collar and pulling him down to eye level.

    ¡°Ex-marauder,¡± she growled. ¡°And I¡¯ll be damned before I¡¯m left in these chains for much longer. Let. Me. Come.¡± She stared down Haggard, noticing a dark look passing over his eyes, but it soon passed. His surprised expression was soon replaced with a grin just as he pulled away from the ex-marauder.

    ¡°Fine, we¡¯ll take you along.¡± Haggard looked back towards the shipmaster. ¡°Dimitri, you think you can drop us off close to the southern island?¡±

    ¡°No problem, I¡¯ll get Liam on it, my friend!¡± The shipmaster grinned and walked off, heading to the quarterdeck.

    Helen looked back at Haggard, who straightened his collar. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get you outfitted.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Hey! She¡¯s coming to!¡±

    Dahlia¡¯s vision was blurred. There was even red tinting the vision on her right as she blinked slowly. Despite the blurry figure, Dahlia could tell who it was right away. Bjorn¡¯s grin was wide, his teeth tinted with red. The dwarf was clear as day, and Dahlia¡¯s vision was back to normal as she tried to sit up. Bjorn did his best to help just as a sharp pain coursed through her head. Dahlia winced, putting a hand to her temple as she groaned.

    ¡®Too hot,¡¯ she painfully thought, taking in deep breaths of the freezing air as her body tried to cool itself off.

    ¡®Damn gnomes. That thing went off ten seconds before it needed to.¡¯

    Dahlia reminded herself to have a talk with the two gnome inventors whenever she went back to Vindis.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± she muttered, looking at her surroundings.

    ¡°Careful, try to rest for a bit, yeah? You must¡¯ve hit your head at some point,¡± Bjorn¡¯s voice called to her.

    Dahlia blinked, her eyes looking at her drag marks on the snow.

    ¡®Did he drag me here?¡¯

    Dahlia tried to get a peek at where that abominable creature had been.

    ¡°Is it dead? The thing,¡± she added in a mutter, her eyes squinting. She got her answer soon, as her eyes widened at the amount of damage the grenade had done to the crystalized bear. There was nothing but bits, blackened and smoking pieces of flesh, scattering the once snowy clearing. Miles was standing nearby, admiring the aftermath of the battle as if it was an awe-inspiring sight. Finn was next to him, holding onto his bandaged side as he watched with Miles.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s dead,¡± Bjorn answered her question after a few moments. ¡°We killed the shit out of it!¡± He was grinning at the sight of destruction, helping Dahlia up as she stared at the clearing.

    ¡°We need to gather its remains,¡± she managed out, stumbling as she tried to walk before falling on the snowy ground. ¡°Burn it all before it can come back.¡± Dahlia watched as Miles came up to her, extending a hand to her.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have time to do that,¡± the mercenary assured Dahlia as she took the man¡¯s hand. ¡°For now, rest. You¡¯re roughed up.¡±

    ¡°Roughed up? That¡¯s a funny way of putting it. She looks like hammered shit!¡± Bjorn commented as he chuckled.

    Miles didn¡¯t seem to hear the dwarf as he helped Dahlia to where Finn was, sitting her down on the log he was on. Dahlia noticed her belt on the log, one of its pouches open, and visibly looked through. She raised an eyebrow, looking over at Finn¡¯s bandaged side and Bjorn¡¯s patched-up arm. She looked at Miles, who reached into the pouch to pull out bandages and a couple of marked vials.

    ¡°So you¡¯re the healer now?¡± Dahlia commented with a smile, watching as Miles poured one of the vial¡¯s contents into a rag before reaching over to pat it over her open wounds. Dahlia winced as she felt her head wound burn on contact, watching as Miles worked on her.

    ¡°I learned to heal myself during my time with the followers. You tend to get hurt often when you¡¯re out there chasing dangerous and interesting people.¡±

    Dahlia noted the dried blood on the man¡¯s grinning mask, which made it seem even more sinister as he worked.

    ¡°What happened after it knocked me out?¡± She asked, wondering about what had happened before she regained consciousness.

    ¡°It tried to go after you, but Bjorn saved you with that shield of his,¡± Miles said, gesturing towards the nearby ground where the dwarf¡¯s dented and malformed shield was laid.

    ¡°Gods¡­¡± Dahlia muttered.

    ¡°He almost had his head lopped off for that stunt, but his helmet saved him. Finn tried to go for its head, but he almost got gutted.¡± Miles pointed at the taller man, who gave him a dirty look.

    ¡°Thanks for that, by the way. Almost got me killed trying to get that thing¡¯s attention,¡± Finn complained.

    ¡°It was your own fault for thinking you had a chance of killing it. I just wanted you to get its attention so I can get a clear shot,¡± Miles shot right back, just as he finished dressing Dahlia¡¯s head wound. Finn scoffed, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to the clearing.

    Dahlia peeked over Miles¡¯ shoulder, examining the clearing once more. She frowned before struggling to stand up again.

    ¡°What are you¡­?¡± Miles asked but didn¡¯t stop Dahlia as she stumbled to Finn¡¯s dropped sword. She picked it up, dragging it along the ground as she made her way to the other side of the clearing. The shaman could feel everyone¡¯s eyes on her, possibly wondering about what she was doing.

    They would soon get their answer as Dahlia stopped at the tree line, her eyes looking down at something. It was the abomination¡¯s upper torso, or what was left of it. She could only make out the half-caved head and exposed ribcage as it tried to wriggle away.

    Dahlia had seen it struggle from afar. She wondered how long it had been trying to get away without Miles¡¯ knowledge. Still, it didn¡¯t matter anymore, as the shaman had intercepted it before it got away. If it even could get away. The remaining half of its skull looked up at Dahlia, seemingly staring at her despite both of its eyes being gone.

    ¡°I pray that there is a god out there who can save your damned soul. Unfortunately¡­ Not a single one comes to mind.¡±

    Dahlia pierced its head with Finn¡¯s sword, forcing all of her strength into the strike. The thing made a gurgling noise as it died, its remaining body soon losing all of its movement and color before dying.

 B.2 Chapter 21: Burn and Clear

    Helen looked down at her unbound wrists and feet, which were no longer shackled, courtesy of Seamus, who had the key all this time. She looked back at the two men, who were currently talking amongst each other.

    ¡®What are they on about?¡¯

    Helen raised an eyebrow before looking down at her black leather armor. Her eyes focused on the red handprint on her chest, the simple mark that had signified her allegiance to Deimos. She scowled at the sight of it. She wanted nothing more than to rip the piece of armor off so she could be rid of the marking. Still, Helen knew better than to leave herself unprotected out here, especially with the danger lurking beyond the treeline.

    ¡°Hey, marau¨CEx marauder. Let¡¯s get moving,¡± Haggard called out, Seamus right behind him as they walked up to the tree line. Seamus was checking his sword, sheathing and unsheathing it as he followed Haggard, who kept a hand on his hammer¡¯s handle.

    ¡°Wait a damn second!¡± Helen called out right behind them, rushing to Haggard. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t I have a weapon to defend myself with?¡±

    The man laughed, shaking his head as they entered the forest, his eyes focused ahead. ¡°Gods, no, you really think we¡¯ll give a weapon to someone like you?¡± He chuckled again, walking off as Helen faltered behind. She stared at Haggard as he walked on ahead, ignoring the ex-marauder¡¯s look of confusion and anger.

    ¡°Then what the hel am I supposed to do?¡± She called out.

    ¡°Maybe you can mark our path throughout the forest, make sure we don¡¯t get lost,¡± Seamus answered on her left, nearly making the woman jump from surprise. ¡°Here,¡± the young man said, reaching for his belt and pulling out a small knife. ¡°It¡¯s not a sword or anything, but it¡¯s better than nothing. Just don¡¯t let Haggard see you with it.¡± Seamus handed her the small knife before walking off, following Haggard.

    Helen looked down at the knife in confusion, wondering how na?ve Seamus had to be to trust her with a weapon of any kind, even if it wasn¡¯t particularly lethal. She gripped onto its small handle, gritting her teeth as she stabbed a nearby tree, marking it with an ¡®X¡¯.

    ¡®That kind of trust is going to get these people killed¡­¡¯

    Helen shook her head as she followed behind the two men, marking the trees as they walked along.

    <hr>

    ¡°So, you got stabbed¡­ died¡­ and then brought back to life by that shaman,¡± Edmund repeated. ¡°And you¡¯re still alive because the ritual forced another spirit into your body, keeping you alive?¡±

    James watched as Edmund tried to grasp the facts.

    ¡°But then that ritual also brought in other spirits? Bad ones which forcefully possess living creatures and disfigure them?¡± Archibald joined in.

    ¡°I told you that you wouldn¡¯t believe it.¡± James shrugged as he sat upright.

    ¡°Yes, and we wouldn¡¯t believe it if you had told us this any other day, but after what we¡¯ve seen? It¡¯s feeling much more believable,¡± Brant muttered, shaking his head as he laid back against the stone wall. ¡°Fuck, is this what the Lumen Knights were on about? Is it possible that this has happened to more islands? What if it spreads to Bernis City? To the other clans?¡± James could see that the older man was panicking, his stern face gaining a hint of horrific realization.

    ¡°It won¡¯t,¡± James assured him, straining as he stood up. ¡°Gryff told me this thing should¡¯ve only affected three islands, at best. As far as I know, it can only spread to other corpses it kills. Hence why we burn the bodies.¡± James looked upon the blast zone, where the creature¡¯s remains were spread apart, its guts and body parts staining the walls and ground. ¡°It¡¯s why we need to burn whatever is left of this thing. Should it ever try to come back.¡±

    He looked back at the three men, who all looked tired and exhausted.

    ¡°I know it¡¯s my fault this thing exists. I want to get rid of it for good and keep it from hurting any more people and living beings. To keep it from¡­¡± James sighed, shivering as he remembered the trapped human host back at Yorktown. ¡°To keep it from making more people suffer fates worse than death.¡± He watched as they all contemplated their choices.

    ¡°We¡¯ll keep helping, but after the third island, we¡¯re done,¡± Edmund said. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can stomach seeing another one of those things.¡±

    Archibald nodded. ¡°I can still help, but I¡¯m going to agree with Edmund here. I didn¡¯t sign up to fight abominable creatures from hell...¡±

    Brant moved, straining himself as he sat up, holding his arm as he sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll stay with you, but I doubt I¡¯ll be able to fight again for a long time¡­ that thing fucked my arm up.¡± He winced as he showed his bleeding arm, which hung limply. James nodded, reaching into his belt¡¯s pouches and pulling out a copper vial, courtesy of Dahlia.

    ¡°Here, it¡¯s a vitality potion,¡± James explained as he knelt next to the injured man.

    Brant grimaced. ¡°Not the same as a healing potion, you know¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ but it¡¯s better than nothing.¡± James gave the man the potion vial, who tore the wax seal off with his teeth before downing the contents. James could swear he heard Brant hold back gagging as he drank before he finally finished, tossing the copper vial away.

    ¡°Ugh¡­ Why does this stuff always taste like shit?¡±

    James picked up the copper vial, making a face as he spotted what looked like an insect¡¯s wing inside it.

    ¡°Uh¡­ I think it¡¯s best we don¡¯t ask that question,¡± he muttered as he pocketed the empty vial. James looked back at the other two men who were standing. ¡°How did you guys survive the explosion? You don¡¯t look as if you¡¯re badly hurt despite being relatively close to the thing before it blew up.¡±

    ¡°Archibald used a barrier spell to protect us both,¡± Edmund revealed. Now that James looked at Archibald, he noticed how much more drained the elf looked. It looked like he had been running a marathon for days on end. James recalled the many times the elf had used his castings on the creature, the Wizard¡¯s words returning to his mind.

    ¡°Those who use the second technique require a heavy tax from their body¡¯s underdeveloped ley lines and physical energy.¡±

    ¡®I guess Archibald is using the second technique of spell casting¡­ Explains why he looks like he¡¯s on the edge of falling over dead¡­¡¯

    James frowned, his hand reaching for his last vitality potion.

    ¡®He¡¯s gonna need it more than me and Edmund.¡¯

    ¡°Archibald, here. You¡¯re gonna need it.¡± He offered the copper vial.

    The elf shook his head, his own hand bringing out a silver vial. ¡°No worries, I have my own.¡± He explained before he broke the seal on his.

    ¡°Keep it for yourself, James. You took a full-on hit from that thing anyway,¡± Edmund pointed out as Archibald downed his vial¡¯s contents with a grimace.

    ¡°Alright,¡± James muttered, looking back at the small copper vial in his hand. He broke the wax seal, frowning as he stared at the brownish liquid.

    ¡®Well¡­ Doesn¡¯t hurt to try... Right?¡¯

    James could swear he could hear Faust laughing in the back of his mind.

    He shut his eyes as he quickly downed the potion. He had to hold back his natural instinct to vomit, forcing his gag reflex back as the disgusting, viscous liquid slid down his throat.

    ¡®Ugh! It¡¯s like drinking chunky spoiled milk!¡¯

    The mental image did not help him in any way. James pulled the vial away from his lips, dry heaving a little as he shuddered at the taste. Then, out of nowhere, his body slowly gained a soft warmth, and his joints felt miles better than before. James blinked, feeling as if he could run a marathon for miles.

    ¡°Damn,¡± James muttered, looking down at the vial in his hand. Despite its taste, the potion worked like a charm, soothing his sore body like the goddess Delphine herself had come down to massage them.

    Satisfied with his newfound energy, James stored the vial away as he turned to the center of the chamber, where the remains of the creature lay.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get started on burning and clearing this place.¡±

    <hr>

    Dahlia shuddered a little after drinking her vitality potion, never able to get used to the taste of the viscous liquid. She soon felt her body warm up, the potion working its magic as her muscles relaxed. The soreness in her body wore off in mere seconds, replacing her exhaustion with a fresh, energetic feeling.

    ¡®Tastes like rotting stew, but it does the job quite well¡­¡¯

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    The shaman stored the copper vial away as she watched everyone else help gather the bear¡¯s remains, piling them in the center of the clearing. Dahlia sighed softly before turning back to the blackened wolf''s corpse she had been dragging, which was crystallizing even more.

    ¡°Best if we hurry the pace and burn it all down,¡± she muttered as she dragged the carcass.

    Soon enough, the entire group surrounded the pile of flesh and crystals, watching as Dahlia poured some of Bjorn¡¯s drink. With his permission, of course. The shaman handed back the flask, which the dwarf accepted with care.

    ¡°Probably should step back. I poured a little more than last time,¡± Dahlia warned as she herself backed away. Everyone followed her advice, keeping their distance as Dahlia faced the remains of that abomination. She raised her hands at the pile, forcing her fingers to be still once more. It worked this time.

    ¡°Ignition,¡± she chanted out, red runic symbols appearing before the remains. They dispersed in a mere second, lighting up the dwarf¡¯s liquor in a grand blaze, the heat hitting Dahlia like a furnace as it whooshed. They all watched the makeshift bonfire, hypnotized by the flames, as the remains sizzled and popped. Dahlia wasn¡¯t looking, turning away from the sight of burning flesh, still unnerved by it all.

    ¡°You think there¡¯s any more of those things?¡± Miles asked as Dahlia walked off to find a place to sit.

    ¡°I doubt it. Judging from how small the island is, if there was another, we would¡¯ve seen its traces or markings,¡± Dahlia answered before she sat down on a nearby log.

    ¡°What do we do now?¡± Bjorn asked, still watching the burning flames.

    ¡°We wait until whatever remains is ash,¡± Dahlia responded. She watched as Miles sat on a nearby rock, his dirtied mask facing the ground as he rested. Finn looked at the two men, frowning as if he was waiting for one of them to say anything.

    ¡°Fine¡­ I¡¯ll say it,¡± Finn sighed, looking at the shaman. ¡°What the hel are we dealing with? That thing wasn¡¯t natural! It was¡­¡±

    ¡°Abominable. Hellish even,¡± Bjorn spoke up, still hypnotized by the bonfire.

    ¡°Exactly.¡± Miles agreed, his grinning facade looking up at Dahlia. The shaman felt their gazes, her eyes averting as she tried to find the words to explain what was going on.

    ¡°A week back, James was on the edge of death¡­ I was desperate to bring him back, so I used a ritual to revive him,¡± Dahlia started.

    ¡°What kind of ritual?¡± Miles asked.

    ¡°One that required me to summon a spirit. I did so to force the summoned spirit into James¡¯ body, saving his life but trapping him with the spirit, Faust, from what I¡¯m told. Weirdly, there wasn¡¯t much conflict between him and the spirit, so they¡­ coexist with each other. James stays alive as long as he¡¯s fused with the spirit, and they both seem to have gotten used to each other.¡±

    ¡°But?¡±

    ¡°But¡­ It seemed as if Faust wasn¡¯t the only spirit that was summoned. Something happened, and I¡¯m still unsure if it¡¯s even the truth. Still, it seems some stray spirits were released out into Valenfrost, possessing living and dead beings and,¡± she shuddered, ¡°crystalizing them.¡±

    Finn looked as if he was going to be sick, his figure moving to the side of the clearing.

    ¡°So that¡¯s why your friend is so strange,¡± Miles commented.

    ¡°So, he¡¯s like a draugr,¡± Bjorn muttered. ¡°My mother told me stories about such things, revenants who came from the cold depths of Hel to enact their unfinished business.¡± The dwarf shook his head, sighing. ¡°Bad trouble for you to play with forces like those.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I am aware of what my actions have done. I was desperate at the moment and was afraid of letting James die,¡± Dahlia explained.

    There was some silence after her explanation, the sounds of crackling flames being the one in the clearing. Soon enough, however, Miles chuckled. Both Dahlia and Bjorn looked at the former follower of chaos, his grinning mask shaking slightly as he chuckled.

    ¡°You like him, don¡¯t you?¡± The man asked amusingly.

    Dahlia felt her cheeks burn, her eyes widening. ¡°What?¡± She asked before mentally reprimanding herself. She had spoken in too much of a high pitch.

    ¡°Ah, I¡¯m an idiot for not noticing it earlier. It all makes sense now.¡± Miles laughed even more.

    Dahlia opened her mouth to respond but noticed Bjorn was joining in on Miles¡¯ laughter. The shaman watched as both men laughed before her lips curved into a smile, a small chuckle escaping from them. Soon enough, Dahlia was laughing with them, although not genuinely. She had a lot of pent-up stress from that day alone, not to mention the last couple of days. The shaman laughed out all of her stress and nerves, along with the dwarf and masked man. She didn¡¯t know how long they went at it but could remember hearing Finn commenting,

    ¡°Bunch of fucking crazies¡­¡±

    Finally, after some time, Dahlia was on the snowy ground, stray laughs leaving her as she laid back against the log she was on top of before she fell over during her laugh fest. The dwarf was lying on the ground, a dumb grin on his face as he looked at the cloudy sky. Dahlia looked at Miles, who was also on the ground, holding his mask in place as he chuckled lightly. Dahlia tilted her head, sitting up as her grin dissipated.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Finn asked as he sat down on a nearby stump.

    ¡°Voices,¡± Dahlia answered, moving to stand up, her hand automatically straying towards her dagger. She could hear Finn moving just as Miles called out,

    ¡°Voices? Could it be another one of those things?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but get ready,¡± Dahlia responded as she headed to Bjorn, lightly kicking him. ¡°Get up! We might get into another fight,¡± she whispered, her eyes still focused on the dense treeline. She could spot movement but couldn¡¯t make it out well.

    ¡®Ugh¡­ Is my vision still affected from earlier?¡¯

    Dahlia did her best to focus on the forest. She could hear how the voices became much clearer. It sounded like¡­ Arguing?

    ¡°You gave her a knife?!¡±

    ¡°It was so she could mark our path!¡±

    ¡°You gave her a knife! I can mark our path by pissing, for Delphine¡¯s sake!¡±

    ¡°To be fair, I hadn¡¯t stabbed anyone yet.¡±

    ¡°Stay out of this! You don¡¯t get to defend yourself!¡±

    Dahlia felt her body relax as she recognized the voices, sighing softly as she called out to her group.

    ¡°Stand down. It¡¯s no trouble,¡± she explained before Haggard emerged from the trees, followed by Seamus and an unshackled Helen.

    ¡°Oh¡­¡±

    They all went silent, Haggard¡¯s eyes examining the state of everyone. ¡°What happened here?¡± He asked before noticing the charred remains of the creature, its flame now long dead.

    ¡°We, uh... found one of those ¡®things¡¯ and¡­ killed it,¡± Dahlia explained, gesturing at the battle-torn clearing before looking back at Haggard. ¡°What are all of you doing here?¡± She raised an eyebrow as Helen stepped up, gesturing at Haggard and Seamus.

    ¡°They were worried about you and thought something bad might have happened to you and your little group,¡± Helen explained, mocking empathy as she shouldered Haggard. ¡°Right, big man?¡± She asked. Haggard sighed, visibly clenching and unclenching his jaw twice before he responded.

    ¡°We heard an explosion and thought perhaps you might have needed help. It seems, however, that you have everything under control.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Dahlia chuckled. ¡°We actually need some help. Now that you¡¯re here.¡±

    Haggard raised an eyebrow, as did Helen. ¡°What is it?¡± The taller man asked.

    ¡°Well¡­ We don¡¯t know the way back to shore¡­¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Break! We need a break!¡± James heard Edmund call out before both men sat Brant down on the snowy ground. James collapsed on the snow, the cold air stinging his lungs as he panted.

    ¡®I took three full-blown hits from some lovecraftian nightmare an hour ago¡­ How and why am I still alive?¡¯ James asked mentally.

    ¡®I¡­ don¡¯t know actually¡­¡¯ Faust answered back.

    James sighed, sitting up as he caught his breath. He looked over at Edmund, who somehow seemed in worse shape than he.

    ¡°Archibald, swap with Edmund,¡± James called back to the elf, who was resting right behind them. It was the third swap in the last half hour since almost all of them were exhausted.

    Even Archibald seemed to be close to passing out despite drinking a potion earlier.

    ¡®How much energy do physical castings demand?¡¯

    James thought back to his own Carapace spell. He didn¡¯t really notice the spell¡¯s side effects until after he took a hit, his body heat flaring up with every close call. It had gone to furnace levels when his Carapace had broken, making James believe he was going to cook himself to death.

    ¡®I can¡¯t imagine what Archibald is going through after so many physical castings during that fight.¡¯

    James took another icy breath, feeling how his body welcomed to the frigid air. While resting, he still felt overworked, with his muscles taut and sore. He turned back toward the direction of the cave, seeing the pillar of black smoke high in the air. James hoped the remains were burnt beyond recognition.

    ¡°Alright,¡± James breathed out, moving to stand up. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving. We need to get to the shore before sunset.¡± He moved to grab Brant, picking up the injured man with Archibald as Edmund followed behind. They continued to carry the man for a good half hour, with the occasional break and switching between carriers.

    Finally, after a while, they reached the gravel shores, their rowboat visible from afar. All four men rested on the uncomfortable gravel, finally able to catch their breaths as the sky turned into a familiar orange. James watched the sky, sighing out softly. Despite the clouds obscuring the sky, he could appreciate the beautiful colors painting them.

    ¡°Aw shit,¡± Edmund groaned before getting up as he rushed to the shore. ¡°The tide is taking the boat!¡± He exclaimed. Archibald rushed in behind him, leaving James to look after Brant. James himself was contemplating helping when the injured man spoke up.

    ¡°You¡¯re not from here, are you?¡± Brant asked in a low voice only James could hear. The young man raised his eyebrow, looking at the older man with confusion.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± James inquired, wondering what might¡¯ve tipped the man off.

    ¡°The way you act, talk, and the strange ways you phrase things,¡± Brant explained, looking up at James. ¡°The biggest giveaway, however, is that presence of yours. I¡¯ve been traveling the southern waters of Valenfrost and dabbled in the north as well, but never in all my years have I met someone like you. I¡¯ve met with orcs, Arenian traders, Kasani warriors, and Azurevalians from all over. Not a single one of them can compare to the strangeness you emit.¡±

    Brant¡¯s words gave James insight into how others might view him, which worried the young man. Both Seamus and Dahlia mentioned his strangeness, but James never thought it was more than just a passing feeling.

    ¡®Is my presence so obvious?¡¯

    ¡°Quite an imagination you have,¡± James responded coolly. He crossed his arms as he watched Edmund and Archibald drag the rowboat onto shore, the figure of Frostbite growing closer in the distance.

    ¡°Hmph. I get it. You don¡¯t want to give away your secret, huh?¡± The injured man chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me,¡± Brant added.

    ¡°Words don¡¯t really mean anything unless backed by trust,¡± James responded, looking back at the older man with a small grin. ¡°Let¡¯s get past that barrier first before we start promising things,¡± he finished before moving to pick up the injured Brant and help him to the rowboat.

    Soon enough, Team One would be on their way to Frostbite, where Dahlia and her team would wait for them.

 B.2 Chapter 22: Night of Respite

    James winced as he felt the stinging pain emanating from the open cut on his forehead. It was far from the only one since the shrapnel of the gnome-crafted grenade had opened up multiple gashes across his body.

    ¡°You look like shit,¡± Miles muttered, dabbing at James¡¯ open cut once more.

    ¡°Easy on the rag,¡± James commented. He winced once more, gritting his teeth as he felt the open wound burn.

    Both men were currently underneath the deck, resting and fixing their wounds from that day. James could see Miles¡¯ other patients nearby, all of them bandaged up and talking amongst each other. At least most of them. Archibald was fast asleep on a cot, the same with Brant. Edmund was trying his hardest not to sleep, keeping up a conversation with Bjorn as the dwarf told him about the battle his team had. Finn was currently drinking on his lonesome, his eyes glancing at James and Miles.

    ¡°Replace his old bandages. He¡¯s already gotten them dirty,¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice sounded out. The shaman was sitting nearby as she watched Miles and James.

    The ex-follower nodded, his hand reaching for the open satchel nearby.

    ¡°So I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re the new healer now?¡± James asked, moving to sit up straight as Miles grabbed his arm, unwrapping the dirty and ripped bandaging.

    ¡°You can say that,¡± Miles answered, the masked man cleaning James¡¯ recent cuts on his arms.

    ¡°Believe it or not, Miles is actually a decent medic,¡± Dahlia said. She tapped at the head bandage she wore. James looked over at the shaman as she gestured towards the white gauze that wrapped her arms and head, which made the young man glance at the rest of the injured. He couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit of guilt.

    ¡®I was a fucking idiot for making us split up the way we did¡­ I should¡¯ve taken better precautions¡­¡¯

    James chastised himself, frowning as he noted Brant¡¯s arm resting on a sling.

    ¡®You did what you did. The best you can do now is learn from your mistakes,¡¯ Faust reminded him.

    Still, James couldn¡¯t help but wonder about what would have happened if something went wrong on his end, or worse, something happened to Dahlia and her team. Both sides had survived, but there were certainly close calls. Dahlia especially.

    Bjorn had explained to James how he thought the shaman had died when she was violently thrown back from a glanced strike. She had supposedly gotten up during the men¡¯s heated battle with the disfigured bear, her quick thinking saving them all. James had tried to find out what else had happened, but Dahlia interrupted Bjorn and Miles back on the deck, saying that it wasn¡¯t important.

    The shaman seemed to notice James¡¯ mental dilemma and frown, her amber eyes looking up at him in worry.

    ¡°Everything alright?¡± she asked as Miles applied the shaman¡¯s signature ointment onto James¡¯ open cuts.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m good,¡± James responded before giving Dahlia an assuring smile. The shaman didn¡¯t seem convinced but didn¡¯t push James further for more info.

    ¡°I should get to bed,¡± she yawned out, slowly moving to stand up as she made eye contact with James. ¡°You should probably get to sleep soon. It¡¯s going to be a couple of days until we reach the next island. Best we use that time to recover.¡± She gave the young man one last smile before heading off to where her cot was laid.

    James could feel how his eyelids grew heavy. He yawned a bit, his eyes turning back to Miles. The strange man was currently wrapping up James¡¯ arms, already finished with his work.

    ¡°May I ask where you are from, James?¡± Miles suddenly asked, catching James off guard.

    ¡°What?¡± James replied, raising an eyebrow as the ex-follower sat across from him, his legs crossed, as he put all the medical items back into the shaman¡¯s satchel.

    ¡°Where are you from?¡± Miles asked again, using a sleeve to wipe off some dirt¡­ or blood from his white mask.

    ¡°Valenfrost, of course,¡± James answered after some hesitation. It didn¡¯t feel right to lie to someone who was currently patching him up.

    ¡°Figured. Almost everyone who is remotely interesting is from here. However, it¡¯s strange how different you are from those people,¡± Miles muttered. He leaned back as he rubbed at his wooden mask. ¡°Where are your parents from? Hair and eyes tell me Northern Azurvale and maybe even a little of Northern Valenfrost, but I¡¯m not too sure.¡±

    ¡°Not really sure, honestly. They never told me.¡± James shrugged

    ¡°So you¡¯re an orphan?¡±

    ¡°In a sense,¡± James muttered. ¡°After my mother and father passed, my aunt raised me until I was an adult,¡± he followed up. It was the truth. No lies here.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Miles mumbled, the masked man seemingly in thought. After what seemed like a few seconds, he slowly moved to stand up. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow, James Holter,¡± Miles softly spoke out before he walked off to his end of the ship. James stared at the mercenary as he left, unsure of what to think of the strange man.

    ¡®Strange one, isn¡¯t he?¡¯ Faust commented.

    ¡®Do you know anything about that mask?¡¯ James asked the spirit, who was the most knowledgeable of the two. ¡®Dahlia explained to me he used to be part of some following.¡¯

    ¡®It seems familiar¡­ But I can¡¯t seem to find out why. I¡¯ll let you know if anything comes to mind,¡¯ Faust admitted.

    ¡°Helpful,¡± James muttered aloud, groaning as he laid back on the bed.

    ¡®Excited for when we reach the next place?¡¯ Faust asked, almost amused.

    James groaned again, closing his eyes as he tried to get himself to sleep. ¡°I just pray that there¡¯s no more of those fucking things. I¡¯ll deal with anything at this point. As long as it doesn¡¯t have crystals on it.¡±

    <hr>

    Helen leaned over the railing of the brig, watching the darkness as she looked down at her shackled wrists. They were the only things chained this time. Her ankles were free to move around. She wondered why they were letting her off with so much freedom even though she had tried to destroy their town the other week. Helen frowned at that. She still regretted taking part in that raid, especially since it nearly ended with her killed.

    ¡®Not to mention that ¡®thing¡¯ James and Dahlia fought¡­ What would¡¯ve happened if it went for my group?¡¯

    Helen shuddered at the thought since she had seen the remains of whatever it was back on the island Dahlia and her group had been on. Despite it being burnt to near ash and in pieces, Helen had still noticed how utterly horrifying it looked, the way the charred crystals covered almost every inch, how its limbs twisted unnaturally¡­

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    ¡°Ugh, I need a drink,¡± Helen groaned as she rubbed her eyes.

    ¡®No. You need sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. Drinking will only make the nightmares worse.¡¯

    Helen sighed, noting how right her inner voice was. As she turned to head beneath the deck, she spotted movement at the bow of the ship. Helen squinted through the darkness before noticing Seamus sitting on a crate, a book in his hands.

    ¡®Reading at a time like this? Curious.¡¯

    The ex-marauder couldn¡¯t help but approach the young man, his back turned to her as he read. She stopped a couple meters away, watching him for a while before speaking up.

    ¡°Seamus Falken, or do you prefer Halvorson?¡± She watched the young man tense up and jump as he held his book in defense. He saw Helen, his hands lowering his book as his shoulders relaxed.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you¡­¡± Seamus realized aloud. There was some awkward silence between the two, a couple of seconds passing before Helen decided to speak up.

    ¡°So you do remember me. Didn¡¯t seem like it a couple days back when we left Yorktown,¡± Helen pointed out. She recalled how Seamus practically ignored her presence as if they had never met.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want anyone asking questions,¡± the young man murmured.

    Helen raised an eyebrow before realizing what Seamus meant.

    ¡°Oh¡­ they all don¡¯t know, do they?¡± She asked, gesturing to below deck, where most of the crew was fast asleep. ¡°About your own lineage.¡±

    ¡°Only James and Dahlia,¡± Seamus admitted. ¡°And you¡­¡± He added quietly.

    ¡°You know they¡¯ll find out. Whether by any stragglers from your clan or any marauder worth his salt, people will know that Yorn¡¯s son is still alive,¡± Helen pointed out.

    Seamus scowled as if someone stabbed him. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that,¡± he managed out quietly, his teeth gritted. ¡°It¡¯s always Yorn¡¯s son, the famed son of Yorn, the heir to the Halvorson clan,¡± Seamus shook his head, turning back to sit on his crate. ¡°It¡¯s always the same with those people. At least James and Dahlia treat me as an equal. They don¡¯t go off on praises about my father or treat me like I¡¯m something special.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m just me. Not a warrior, not a fighter, and certainly not my father.¡±

    Seamus looked down at his book, a visible cut on its black hardcover.

    ¡°He only knew about fighting and nothing about how to be a father,¡± Seamus suddenly admitted, his head still down as he sighed. ¡°Train to be the best, to perfect your attacks¡­ To be better¡­ Yet you were cold with me, distant and emotionless,¡± Seamus muttered. It was like he was talking with the book. Helen took a couple of steps forward, standing to Seamus¡¯ right. She looked at the cloudy sky as Luna and Callisto peeked through the clouds.

    ¡°Did you ever have a parent who didn¡¯t seem to give a damn about you outside of their own goals?¡± The young man asked, his voice soft, close to a whisper. Helen glanced down at Seamus, frowning a little before she looked back up at the parting clouds.

    ¡°My mother tried to kill me,¡± Helen suddenly said. There was a small smile on her face. It must¡¯ve looked like she was retelling a fond memory. She saw from her peripheral how Seamus picked his head up, looking at the ex-marauder with a confused look.

    ¡°She was a drunk, mad with the world because her husband died and left her with me, a child who refused to drop dead as well,¡± Helen continued. ¡°Tried to suffocate me when I was learning how to read. She failed because she was too drunk to hold the pillow properly. She then tried to drown me on my fifteenth birthday, pushing me into the icy waters of the north. I lived through that attempt and still stuck with her because I was stupid enough to believe she still loved me. When I was your age, they knew me as the stupid girl with an insane mother throughout my town. They all thought I was bound to become her, a stupid drunk bound to a shed.

    ¡°So I left, fought in the Outsider Wars, and became a mercenary. Of course, before I got caught up in the marauders and soon became a prisoner to a strange group of people,¡± Helen chuckled. ¡°Not the best outcome, but far better than what I would¡¯ve become in that town. It¡¯s not quite the same as being the son of one of the most dangerous men in history, but I don¡¯t doubt that you can be rid of your father¡¯s shadow, Seamus.¡±

    The young man looked back at his book, frowning.

    ¡°I won¡¯t lie, that doesn¡¯t fill me up with much confidence, but¡­ thank you.¡± He had a hint of a smile on his lips as he rubbed some stray dust from the hardcover of the book. Helen shrugged as she looked off into the near darkness of the sea, lit only by the sister moons¡¯ light. There was silence again, with only the sound of waves keeping them company.

    ¡°Why did you let me live?¡± Seamus suddenly asked, his voice soft and steady. Helen blinked, looking down at Seamus in surprise. ¡°Back when you found me, you knew I was lying about being a merchant. No one could ever fall for the lie I told you that night.¡± Seamus added, his face obscured in the shadows as he stared ahead at the black waves.

    Helen was silent for a very, very long moment. Seamus was underselling how stupid his lie had been.

    ¡®He was wearing the Halvorson crest on his cloak and was too far from the port to be an actual trader. I knew right away that I was supposed to kill him.¡¯

    Yet, Helen didn¡¯t. Instead, she opted to take him prisoner and go along with the lie. The reason she did so was a mystery even to Helen herself.

    ¡®So much trouble for one young man¡­¡¯

    She recalled the raid against Yorktown and how they lost, which led to her capture and put into shackles. Helen had no one to blame but herself since saving Seamus had put into motion the battle that had transpired last week. The battle where James Holter had killed that creature and Havor. The battle where she had lost a stacked fight against an old veteran, a town guard, and a drunk. Where she was the only surviving marauder. Still, despite it all, Helen wouldn¡¯t kill Seamus if the gods gave her a do-over of the events of that fateful night.

    ¡®Don¡¯t dodge the question. You know damn well why you did it,¡¯ her inner voice suddenly said, making the ex-marauder uncomfortable as she furrowed her brow. Was she going crazy?

    ¡®Look at me. Already wondering if I took too many blows to the skull¡­¡¯

    She looked down at Seamus, who was still facing the open ocean. Helen hesitated for a moment before finally forcing the words out of her lungs.

    ¡°I was scared.¡± Her words came out in a breath, surprising Seamus and even Helen herself.

    The young man seemed to perk up in surprise, his head tilting to look back at her. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I was scared,¡± Helen repeated, avoiding eye contact as she stared off into the night. ¡°Scared that I was becoming what I hated. A monster,¡± she explained in a soft, almost trembling voice.

    ¡°When I joined the marauders, I did it for the gold. Mercenary work wasn¡¯t enough at the time, so it was either I started raiding villages, or I would end up as a rambling drunk, doing favors for scraps of silver.¡± She made a disgusted look, remembering the many ¡®escorts¡¯ she had seen around Bernis and Vindis. She would be damned before she ended up like them. ¡°So I joined the Marauders of the North, not knowing what I had gotten myself into. Four years. For four years, I told myself we were just surviving. That we were killing and stealing from people who deserved it. Until that night.¡±

    Helen paused momentarily, remembering that night as if it was crystal clear. The Blood Moons that overlooked the fortress, reddening the clouds and stars in a hellish way. She had been standing over a few fallen corpses, their blood pooling on the ground. There was a young man on the ground, red crimson staining his face and clothes as he looked up at her with his fearful eyes. He had the mark of the Halvorson on his cloak and a silver pin, both of which depicted the infamous bear paw.

    The young man was begging for his life, claiming that he was a merchant despite his apparel and situation. Helen had never seen someone beg like him, cry either. She had realized then that killing him would do nothing but haunt her dreams with his cries and plead for mercy. Helen had realized what she was and what she was becoming and wanted no part in it. She had an epiphany that night, one that made her realize that she had been part of a group of monsters who were no better than the barbarians who tore through Valenfrost all those years ago.

    ¡°I was lying to myself for four years. Only then did I realize I was becoming no better than the bastards I fought in the war.¡± Helen looked down at Seamus, whose expression was a mixture of surprise and other complicated emotions. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to further myself into that kind of path. To sink myself deeper into my regret.¡± She looked down at her shackles, her fists clenching as they shivered.

    ¡®Maybe that¡¯s why you won¡¯t escape. Why do you refuse to kill any of them when given the chance,¡¯ her inner voice spoke out.

    ¡®Fuck off,¡¯ she mentally told herself, scowling as she turned away from the young man. There was some more silence between the two as they processed the night.

    ¡°I¡­ I think I need to rest,¡± Seamus suddenly said, moving to stand up as Helen looked over at him. ¡°I¡¯m going to have to lead the journey to the next island,¡± he added.

    ¡°You¡¯re not staying behind on Frostbite?¡± Helen asked.

    ¡°No. Not for this place.¡± Seamus stopped on his way to the hatch. ¡°This island is one that I can navigate through since I¡¯ve been to it before,¡± he explained.

    ¡°Wait, isn¡¯t the third island uninhabited? The map explains that it¡¯s just a dead zone, no?¡± Helen asked, remembering what the map had shown.

    Seamus shook his head. ¡°There¡¯s a settlement there. My father just hid it, far from prying eyes and away from pirates.¡±

    Helen raised a confused eyebrow. ¡°What kind of island is this?¡±

    ¡°The island we¡¯re heading to is home to one of my father¡¯s settlements and a hiding place for one of his old vaults.¡±

 Interlude: Midnight Drinking

    Felix Arlo looked off at the dark sky, the clouds partially opening to allow for some stars to shine through. The clouds obscured the two moons, but Luna still shone through the bothersome clouds, soft blue moonlight bathing Yorktown¡¯s buildings and streets. Felix looked back at his small hovel at the edge of town, where it bordered the town¡¯s wall, the dark forest beyond its safety.

    Felix hadn¡¯t been able to sleep these last couple of days, not since those Lumen knights came to town on their questionable mission. He sighed frustratingly, shaking away those thoughts as he walked off into town, his feet carrying his tired body to the only tavern in town. He knew Gladis kept the place open well into midnight since he went into such a place at grave hours, usually to drink himself to sleep or talk with the elderly woman herself. Felix shivered as he walked along the frosty night air, his fingers going numb as he tried to warm them up.

    ¡°Should¡¯ve brought warmer clothing,¡± the guardsman muttered, silently cursing himself for being so careless as to come out amid Frost in nothing more than a wool jacket and fur-lined boots. Still, he knew the cold would be temporary, as his eyes spotted the warm light of the tavern ahead, its doors inviting to the guard.

    Felix stepped into the tavern, sighing in relief as warmth surrounded him, courtesy of the lit fireplace to his right. He looked around the place, unsurprised to see some folks here, some even huddling near the fireplace as they drank their brews. Felix acknowledged them, giving the folks a couple of waves before he spotted someone of note by the bar, his hair tied up in a knot. Felix raised an eyebrow at Harald, watching him speak with Gladis, their conversation inaudible. Still, Felix could see how the older woman smiled at the veteran, twirling a piece of her graying hair as she spoke with him.

    ¡°Harald! Didn¡¯t know you frequented here,¡± Felix called suddenly, coming up to the two as he interrupted their conversation. The veteran didn¡¯t seem too surprised to see the guardsman, but Gladis jumped at the presence of Felix, doing her best to look natural as Felix sat down next to Harald.

    ¡°What would you be needing, Felix?¡± The barkeep asked with her usual smile, much different from the one she used on Harald.

    ¡°Just a tankard of mead, please,¡± Felix requested, pulling out some silver coins and placing them on the bar. Gladis took the payment gladly, moving to get Felix his drink. As she was gone, Felix looked to Harald, who sipped at his own tankard of mead. ¡°So¡­ Have you learned anything?¡± Felix asked quietly, resting both of his arms on the bar.

    ¡°Not much.¡± The veteran placed his tankard down gently, his face stern and unchanging as he spoke quietly despite not losing an ounce of weight in his voice. ¡°That cryomancer is much more perceptible than I had initially thought. Almost got caught twice.¡±

    ¡°Damn.¡± Felix sighed in frustration. ¡°Do you at least know what they¡¯re doing?¡±

    ¡°I have some suspicions, but...¡± Harald trailed off, scratching at his trimmed beard as Gladis returned with Felix¡¯s drink. Felix took it with a smile, thanking the older woman as she turned to Harald.

    ¡°Anything else you need, dearie?¡± She asked the veteran, a small, dreamy smile floating on her face.

    Harald smiled back, raising his full tankard. ¡°I¡¯m good, Gladis,¡± he answered back, to which Gladis nodded before returning to tend to her other patrons.

    Felix waited until she was far from earshot, taking another look around his surroundings to make sure no one was hearing. He turned to Harald, leaning in.

    ¡°But?¡± He prodded, watching as the veteran¡¯s smile slowly dissipated. Harald himself took another look around them before letting out a frustrated sigh.

    ¡°Can I trust you, Felix?¡± Harald asked suddenly, his eyes moving to Felix¡¯s, almost as if he was staring into his soul.

    Felix took a couple of seconds to think, furrowing his brow. ¡°Harald¡­ What the hel are you saying?¡±

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    ¡°Can I trust you? Can I put my faith in you, Felix Arlo?¡± Harald asked once more.

    Felix opened his mouth to give him a false answer, to say ¡®yes, you can trust me¡¯, but he faltered for a moment. What the hel was Harald going to say? Did he know something Felix didn¡¯t?

    ¡®What has him all up in arms about trust? What the hel am I getting myself into?¡¯

    Felix thought in that split second before looking at himself.

    ¡®Do I want to get involved in this? Hel, what am I saying? I¡¯ve been involved in whatever this is since those damned marauders came here. So much has happened that I¡¯m sure nothing Harald says would surprise me..¡¯

    Felix made his choice in those few seconds of thinking, his gaze moving back to meet the veteran.

    ¡°You can trust me,¡± Felix said finally.

    Harald stared at Felix for a solid few seconds before he relaxed, moving back to face the bar.

    ¡°How much do you know about James Holter?¡± He asked softly, to which Felix raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°James Holter? That strange fellow? Uh, not much to know about him, really. I know he¡¯s a lost traveler. I think from Northern Azurvale, judging from his hair. Why?¡± Felix asked, taking a sip of his cold mead.

    ¡°That¡¯s a lie,¡± Harald revealed, glancing at Felix. The guardsman blinked, setting down his tankard on the bar.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Felix questioned confusedly, a sinking feeling in his gut.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t noticed it? That feeling you get when you¡¯re around him?¡± Harald asked. ¡°James isn¡¯t from here. Not Valenfrost, not Azurvale, not even Azura itself.¡± Harald turned to Felix, who slowly realized what the veteran was saying.

    ¡°That¡¯s insane. You¡¯re insane. There¡¯s no way¡­¡±

    ¡°Believe me, I had my own doubts. Think about it. He comes from nowhere, with no origin and no knowledge of anything about Azura. Those weird clothes he had on the day of the raid, his manner of speaking.¡± Harald¡¯s points slowly overtook Felix, the guardsman realizing how it all made sense.

    ¡°I¡­ What? How?¡± Felix sputtered in confusion. He tried to wrap his head around the idea of an outlander. ¡°Even if what you say is true, who sent him here? Delphine? Freyja? The gods from his home?¡±

    ¡°No gods, if I recall what Dahlia told me,¡± Harald revealed.

    ¡°That shaman knows? Who else knows about this?¡± Felix was doing his best not to lose his mind, his head swimming as he tried to get a sense of reality.

    Harald sighed. ¡°Only a select few. Don¡¯t tell anyone else.¡±

    ¡°Wait, why are you telling me this? Is that why the Lumen Knights are here?¡± Felix recalled what the knights had told them the day they arrived, explaining that there was a fracture in the ley lines.

    ¡°I suppose so. It could explain why they were investigating the shaman¡¯s home earlier today. That and well¡­¡± Harald sighed. ¡°James¡¯ resurrection.¡±

    ¡°Resurrection? What the hel are you saying?¡± Felix felt as if he was a child again, who had been ignorant of the secrets his parents kept away from him.

    ¡°Dahlia explained to me that James had been stabbed by one of the marauders when they first came here¡­ He was at death¡¯s door before they brought him back with a ritual,¡± Harald explained.

    ¡°Ritual?!¡± Felix almost exclaimed, nearly spitting out the mead he was drinking.

    Now Felix felt like his world was spinning, changing all around him as he processed the new information.

    ¡°What¡­ What are the knights planning?¡± Felix asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s the part that worries me. They¡¯re obviously armed to the teeth despite being ambassadors.¡± Harald took a swig of his drink, his face scrunching up into a scowl. ¡°I feel as if they¡¯re not gonna let this town go off so easily.¡±

    ¡°How far are the guardsmen in their training?¡± Felix asked, almost desperate for good news.

    ¡°Not far enough. We¡¯re still learning the basics, ironing out any bad habits within them. Still, I¡¯ll see if I can get them to know basic defense stances,¡± Harald revealed.

    ¡°Do that. We¡¯re going to need to prepare for any possibilities in the next couple of days. At least, until James comes back.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 23: The Third Stop

    4

    Aldren

    <hr>

    James looked down at the marked map, his eyes focusing on the third marked island, which wasn¡¯t much of an island but a speck.

    ¡°Are you sure this is an island, Seamus?¡± He asked as he looked up at the designated map reader. Seamus nodded, rubbing his tired eyes as he yawned.

    ¡°It¡¯s called Aldren. And yes, it¡¯s a hidden island my fa- Yorn owned. He had cartographers mark the area as a dead zone, with nothing but rocks and water for kilometers,¡± Seamus explained. He had nearly let out his connection to the island to everyone around. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope we can find it,¡± James muttered. He sipped at his steaming mug, his expression quickly turning to a grimace. ¡°Does this tea have to taste so bitter?¡± He looked over at Dahlia, who was sipping and frowning at her concoction.

    ¡°Well, unless you can brew Horcus tea that tastes good, you¡¯ll have to deal with it,¡± she answered, downing the rest of her mug. James looked down at his tea, which still had floating herb leaves.

    ¡°Just gonna put it out there. Please consider putting honey in your concoctions,¡± James said as he picked out a leaf.

    It was late morning on Frostbite¡¯s decks, with almost all the crew beneath the deck as the rest maintained the ship and steered it towards its destination. It had been a couple of days since their last venture to the other islands, giving everyone enough time to recover as they neared their third stop. James looked around the deck, lit by the peering light coming through the nearby windows and hatch. Almost everyone was drinking Dahlia¡¯s medicinal tea, and all had the same reaction as James. Still, they were all wide awake, a big improvement from their groggy selves earlier that dawn. James himself could feel the effects of the tea warming up his body, easing away the pain in his sore muscles and bandaged wounds.

    ¡®Bitter or not, it¡¯s doing wonders for your body. It¡¯s even waking me up,¡¯ Faust commented as James sipped at his mug again, trying his hardest to ignore the taste of the steaming tea.

    ¡®Easy for you to say. You can¡¯t taste this crap,¡¯ James replied, frowning as he placed his tin mug on the table.

    ¡°So, let¡¯s get to the simple part,¡± James announced. ¡°The group, we still need to figure out who''s coming onto the island with Seamus and me.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going? After what happened?¡± Dahlia asked, standing up from her comfortable spot on a crate.

    ¡°Sure I am,¡± James answered, gesturing towards himself. ¡°I¡¯m ready for another round, plus your ointments and tea have been very helpful in restoring me back to full strength.¡± James grinned as he forced another sip from his mug, his grinning facade faltering from the bitterness.

    ¡°James, those are for aiding you as you return to full strength, not restoring. That tea will wear off in less than an hour, and you¡¯ll return to your usual sore and exhausted self.¡± Dahlia crossed her arms.

    James shrugged in response. ¡°Then I¡¯ll guess I¡¯ll take some tea to go then,¡± he joked lightly.

    The shaman sighed, shaking her head. ¡°Fine, do what you will. I¡¯ll also be coming to make sure you don¡¯t die out there.¡±

    ¡°Oh no, you¡¯re staying,¡± James responded with a shake of his head.

    ¡°What, why not?¡± Dahlia furrowed her brow, confused.

    ¡°Did you forget about the fact that you nearly blew yourself to kingdom come last time? Not to mention your current head damage situation and multiple wounds. You¡¯ve taken way more damage than me. Even after a few days of recovery, you¡¯re still too banged up,¡± James reminded her.

    Dahlia narrowed her gaze. ¡°I will ignore that weird saying and get to my initial question. How did you¨C?¡±

    ¡°Miles told me,¡± James interrupted.

    Dahlia blinked at James¡¯ response, looking over at the mentioned masked man.

    ¡°You little sni¨C¡±

    ¡°Anyway, that brings us to the third member of our little entourage. Miles will come with us to handle the healing side of things,¡± James interrupted again, gesturing towards the strange mercenary. Thankfully, Miles was one of the few who suffered the least damage during that day¡¯s events, making him an obvious choice.

    ¡°As for our fourth and fifth¡­¡± James looked at the rest of the men, examining their injuries and current states.

    ¡®Brant and Finn are out of the question. They can barely walk across the deck with those injuries.¡¯

    The young man looked at Edmund and Archibald, who grimaced at their mugs as they watched James.

    ¡®Both were in bad shape after the fight with that thing, but Dahlia¡¯s treatments have them looking pretty fit to go. Also, Archibald¡¯s castings would definitely come in handy. Especially that barrier spell he used to protect himself and Edmund.¡¯

    ¡°Archibald, Edmund, you¡¯ll be coming with us.¡± He could see how both men looked hesitant, but none of them said anything more.

    ¡®It¡¯s a miracle they haven¡¯t asked for raised wages. After what they¡¯ve been through,¡¯ Faust commented.

    ¡®It¡¯s a miracle enough that they haven¡¯t bailed yet,¡¯ James added before looking over at the last of the men. Bjorn was pouring the contents of his flask into his mug of tea, not realizing that James was watching.

    ¡®Is he¡­ Is he pouring liquor into that tea?¡¯ James realized, squinting at the dwarf.

    ¡®That¡¯s genius, how did I not think of that?¡¯ Faust suddenly commented, wowed by the sight.

    ¡°Uh¡­ Bjorn?¡± James called, catching the dwarf¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Huh?¡± the dwarf responded. He raised his tired eyes at James before closing his flask and sipping at his tea with little problem.

    ¡°Are you alright? Any hurting anywhere?¡± James wasn¡¯t sure how different dwarf physiology was from humans and elves since Bjorn had seemed to recover from both a hangover and concussion over the course of a couple of hours and a lot of drinking. For all he knew, the dwarf was practically indestructible. Bjorn took a few seconds to process the question, stroking his beard as he closed his eyes.

    ¡°Hmm, I have an itch in my arse¡­ Head¡¯s a little hurty, but that¡¯s just from the drink,¡± the dwarf responded.

    ¡°What about your injuries?¡±

    ¡°What about them? Miles fixed me up, and Dahlia gave me this nice tea to numb them,¡± the dwarf said.

    ¡°Are you good to fight? To come with us to the last island?¡± James asked, getting to the point. Bjorn raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Damn right, I am, tea or not. That bear back on that island has me riled up for another bout. I¡¯ll be damned before I¡¯m left on the sidelines.¡± The dwarf took a swig from his tea, still not faltering from the taste.

    James sighed but didn¡¯t argue. ¡°I guess that means Bjorn is our sixth member. That wraps our¡ª¡±

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Wait a fucking second!¡± someone suddenly shouted, catching everyone¡¯s attention. It was Haggard, standing from his seat. ¡°I¡¯m coming as well,¡± he announced, walking up to the map table. James raised his hand to stop the other man but was interrupted again.

    ¡°I joined this little quest of yours to fight, not to be some babysitter,¡± Haggard stated. James could hear Helen somewhere behind him, catching what sounded like her muttering.

    ¡°Well fuck you too¡­¡±

    James swore he heard from the ex-marauder before he focused his attention on Haggard.

    ¡°Well, if Dahlia agrees, then I guess she can look after Helen,¡± James suggested. He looked to the shaman, who shrugged.

    ¡°As long as she doesn¡¯t drink, I can keep an eye on her,¡± Dahlia agreed.

    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled. Guess you might get that fight you¡¯ve been looking for, Haggard.¡± James patted the other man on the shoulder before hearing Dimitri¡¯s voice from above deck.

    ¡°Friend James! You¡¯re going to want to see this!¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± James asked as he headed up to the surface. Feeling the cold, stinging breeze hit his face and beard, James squinted through the sudden light of the morning. He saw Dimitri looking off the bow ahead with some other crewmates.

    ¡°That,¡± the shipmaster said simply as he pointed his finger ahead, a large cluster of blackening clouds ahead. James squinted at the sight, seeing the raging storm brewing underneath the clouds. Flashes of lightning showed waves as big as the brig they were on, sure enough to destroy it if given a chance.

    ¡°That is where your island is. We cannot sail around it, wait it out, and surely not go through it,¡± Dimitri explained.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s tits,¡± Haggard cursed. James turned to see most of his group above the ship, watching the storm ahead.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± Dahlia asked, her face uncertain. James felt the same way, for not even he knew what else to do about a storm of this magnitude.

    ¡°We go through it,¡± Seamus suddenly said, stepping forward. ¡°It¡¯s an illusion, put in place to hide the island ahead. It¡¯s harmless,¡± he explained.

    ¡°An illusion?¡± Edmund butted in. ¡°That must be one damn impressive Wizard if he can brew up a storm like that.¡±

    ¡°How do we know you¡¯re telling the truth?¡± Bjorn asked, raising an eyebrow at Seamus, who turned to the dwarf.

    ¡°I¡¯ve had a family who lived here, courtesy of Yorn. They originally hid the Aldren to repel barbarians during the war. He also used this island to hide one of his old vaults. I¡¯m positive he still has the illusion up after all these years,¡± Seamus explained.

    ¡°Still, I¡¯m not sure about this,¡± Dimitri said. ¡°It¡¯s possible that the illusion has worn off already, and this is the real thing. I mean, Yorn and his clan have been dead for weeks. Regardless of contract, I doubt some Wizard would still keep it up.¡±

    While Dimitri was bringing up a good point, James couldn¡¯t help but put some faith in Seamus. The younger man had been to the island before and knew more about it than most. His confidence also gave him some reassurance. James rubbed his bearded chin with his right hand, debating what to do.

    ¡°Alright, here¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do.¡± James looked off ahead, hiding his grin. ¡°Sail ahead, through the storm.¡± He heard some hushed cursing and confused ¡®huhs?¡¯.

    Dimitri sighed as he stepped up ahead. ¡°Are you sure about this?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure of it. I trust Seamus,¡± James confirmed. ¡°Let¡¯s just sail into the least serious part of the storm, just so we can try to retreat in case we¡¯re wrong.¡±

    ¡®Planning for failure. Not very much faith in Seamus?¡¯ Faust asked

    ¡®Nothing wrong with being careful,¡¯ James responded as he watched Dimitri order his men around, to which they all complained, some even pointing out the storm.

    ¡°It¡¯s an illusion! An illyuziya!¡± Dimitri explained as he argued with some crew before they finally complied, moving to get the ship in motion. James watched as they moved around before looking down at Seamus.

    ¡°I really hope that¡¯s an illusion,¡± James commented. He nervously rubbed the back of his head.

    Seamus glanced at James. ¡°Believe me, James. I¡¯ve put far more faith into your antics than you have with me and this storm.¡±

    The two watched on as the crew unfurled the black sails of Frostbite, adjusting them to catch the wind. Frostbite was now in motion, heading ever so closer to the upcoming storm.

    James gripped the railing as he watched the dark clouds, his heart beating faster as sweat dampened his palms. He looked over at the rest of the crew, who all watched in anticipation as the deck rocked, making James grip the railing tightly.

    ¡°Fuck, I hope this is an illusion,¡± James repeated under his breath as the wind picked up. Droplets of rain peppered his face and clothing, the wind whipping around him. Lightning flashed ahead, followed by distant thunder as Liam yelled from the ship''s helm.

    ¡°Screw this! I¡¯m turning back!¡± Liam shouted out from the rear. James looked back at the ginger-haired steerer, who had spun the wheel. Dimitri seemed to protest but did little to stop Liam. James wanted to shout at him to keep going into the dangerous waters, but he also wanted to retreat from the storm.

    ¡°Just wait!¡± Seamus shouted, but the sound of rain drowned out his voice as they entered the shadow of the dark clouds.

    James felt freezing cold raindrops shower over him and the deck, his hands and nose becoming numb from the sudden cold as Frostbite broke through a wave, sending even more saltwater onto the deck.

    ¡°Turn back!¡± Dimitri shouted over the loud sound of crashing waves.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± Liam shouted back. James held onto dear life as he shut his eyes, gritting his teeth as the deck rocked and¡­. Nothing.

    The deck was now still, the sound of the deafening storm replaced with the gentle sounds of water lapping against the hull. He could hear gulls call in the distance and what sounded like ravens. The warm ambiance of sunlight even replaced the freezing cold. James opened his eyes, looking up at the sky. It was partially cloudy, a blue sky visible as the sun shone partially onto them.

    ¡®Did I die?¡¯

    James blinked and wiped the saltwater out of his eyes as he looked around the deck. Everyone seemed to have the same thought as him, confusion and awe on their faces.

    Everyone but Seamus. The young man was smiling, pointing out into the calm sea.

    ¡°Told you so.¡±

    James looked at where he was pointing, his eyes squinting at the lonely island in the distance. It was the polar opposite of Yorktown¡¯s island. Instead of a gray, depressing mountain and dead trees, there was a beautiful, lush forest covering every inch of the island. The water even looked cleaner here. James marveled at the sight, especially since he hadn¡¯t seen such greenery anywhere else in Valenfrost. At least in the parts of Valenfrost he had seen.

    ¡°That¡¯s the island, I suppose,¡± James thought aloud before looking back at where they had come from. The storm still raged on, lightning flashing as Frostbite steered away from it, heading to the island ahead. James raised an eyebrow, looking around the entire area. A ring of stormy clouds surrounded the large patch of sea that held the island as if trapped within a bubble of solitude.

    ¡°And that¡¯s the storm,¡± he added quietly, admiring the realistic illusion. It made him wonder what other kinds of magic this world had. His excitement grew as he imagined the things he would be able to cast once he got attuned with his own ley lines. The thoughts of Fireballs and matter manipulation clouded his imagination before he realized he was grinning like an idiot.

    ¡®One step at a time, James.¡¯

    James mentally grounded himself back to reality as he resumed his normal, slight smile.

    ¡°There¡¯s an isolated port on this side of the island,¡± Seamus called to Liam, gesturing towards the part of the island they were facing. ¡°We should dock there. Just in case the watchtowers on the northern side are still armed,¡± he explained. James watched as Liam nodded, followed by Dimitri calling for everyone to prepare to dock the brig. James looked back at the island, still hypnotized by its greenery. The island was much bigger than Yorktown¡¯s own, making James remember the long trip Seamus, Dahlia, and he took back when they traveled to Harald¡¯s isolated home.

    ¡®It will take a while for us to clear the entire place. Plus¡­¡¯

    ¡°Seamus, are you sure the locals aren¡¯t going to attack us on sight? You know, since we¡¯re not supposed to be here exactly,¡± James said cautiously.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, James. I¡¯ll take care of everything. I¡¯ve been here quite a few times and know the locals well.¡± Seamus seemed much different from before, a hint of nostalgia on his face as he smiled.

    ¡®He¡¯s probably happy at the prospect of meeting the only people who survived the Halvorson clan¡¯s purge.¡¯

    A hint of sorrow hit James as he recalled Seamus¡¯ quiet and meek self from before. Now, the young man seemed excited about coming to this island, even if it was to fight a possibly dangerous creature.

    James frowned, recalling his conversation with that thing¡¯s voices in the mindscape. The creature made it sound like it was planning to rebuild itself soon. The idea of it spreading was haunting. James gripped onto the railing as he watched the island grow closer. He hoped that no abominable monster would show up here, that no more souls would have to suffer that thing¡¯s wrath today. Fortunately for James, he would get his wish.

    Unfortunately, the day ahead was far from the peaceful afternoon he and Seamus had hoped for.

    For at the day¡¯s end, James would be forced to watch the island burn to cinders.

 B.2 Chapter 24: The Settlement

    James looked down at his broken shield, the two broken pieces held together with only a bit of splintered wood and good intentions. He sighed, tossing the shield back to the floor. It had served its purpose already, protecting James and saving his life multiple times in the past week.

    ¡°Shame it couldn¡¯t last longer,¡± James muttered. He adjusted his cloak and picked up his helmet, which still soldiered on with its chipped steel and visible dents. James attached his helmet to his belt, taking a note from Edmund before heading up to the surface deck. Everyone waited up there, checking their available gear and potions.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Seamus started as he was adjusting his own cloak, spotting James emerging from the hatch. ¡°We have two vitality potions, three waterskins of Horcus tea, and a single runestone holding one casting of Night Spray.¡± He set the items down on a barrel¡¯s top, everyone gathering around the limited supplies.

    ¡°How are we going to split this up?¡± Edmund asked, raising an eyebrow. James rubbed his chin in thought, looking at the two copper vials that held the vitality potions.

    ¡°Archibald and Miles should get the potions,¡± James suggested. Everyone nearby gave him a look of raised eyebrows and intrigue. He picked up both vials, holding them up for everyone to see.

    ¡°Archibald might need one since he¡¯ll be using castings the most out of all of us. Bjorn himself already has his own flask of vitality, so he¡¯ll be fine. Miles is our designated healer, too, so letting him hold on to a vitality potion that can save someone¡¯s life is vital.¡± Everyone murmured their agreement, with Edmund and Seamus sharing looks of disappointment.

    ¡°As for the tea and the rune¡­¡± James contemplated on who to give the tea to before Edmund picked up the rune.

    ¡°Let me handle the rune,¡± Edmund suggested. ¡°I have pretty good accuracy with these, plus I¡¯ve had more experience with these back in Azurvale,¡± he explained. He tossed the smooth stone in the air before catching it. James looked around to see if anyone objected to Edmund¡¯s responsibility over the runestone. No one said anything.

    ¡°Alright, guess that settles that.¡± James focused on the rest of the supplies, picking up one of the leather skins containing the tea Dahlia had brewed that morning. It wouldn¡¯t be as fast-working or effective as the vitality potions. Still, it would definitely serve as a much-needed substitute if the situation called for it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take one waterskin, as for the other two¡­¡± James looked over at Haggard, who seemed fresh as a daisy and fit to fight despite his ¡®dip¡¯ in the canals of Vindis days back.

    ¡®He¡¯ll be fine for most of the day. Everyone else, on the other hand¡­¡¯

    ¡°Seamus and Bjorn will carry them. We¡¯ll share if the situation demands it,¡± James explained, tying his leather skin of tea to his belt. He had a feeling none of the others would be too excited to drink the bitter tea, but he still acknowledged that they might need to drink the stuff if needed.

    ¡°Alright then¡­ Let¡¯s get a move on,¡± James called, watching as everyone headed towards the deck bridge that was extended to the wooden docks of Aldren. The only one who hadn¡¯t moved was Seamus, who had a soft smile on his face.

    ¡°Excited to be here?¡± James asked.

    ¡°More than you know. But¡­¡± The young man¡¯s smile faltered, his hands rubbing together for warmth. ¡°I would be lying if I said that I wasn¡¯t worried about everyone here.¡±

    ¡°Just try not to think about it too much. It doesn¡¯t seem like there¡¯s a presence here. At least not one Faust, and I can¡¯t sense,¡± James explained. Seamus relaxed his shoulders at that.

    ¡°Good to know. You and that spirit seem to get along, huh?¡± Seamus asked.

    James chuckled, patting Seamus¡¯ shoulder. ¡°Believe me. There¡¯s a lot more bickering than what it seems on the surface,¡± he joked.

    ¡®I can hear you, dunghead,¡¯ Faust muttered with reproach.

    Before James and Seamus started their way off the ship, they were interrupted.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Dahlia suddenly called, hurrying over to them from across the deck. ¡°Here, for the cold. Gods know that Frost is unforgiving, even in a place as lush as this.¡± She smiled as she handed James a couple of warm-looking items. James examined the knitted gloves and little wool hat.

    ¡°Where did you...?¡± James started before the shaman answered.

    ¡°Found it in the storage deck when I was looking for supplies last night, along with some other items of warmth,¡± she explained as James fitted the warm gloves onto his stiff hands, some feeling returning to his numbing fingers.

    Dahlia produced a scarf and some more gloves, which had some visible tears and frayed edges. Still, James was tempted by its warm-looking material, his hands accepting them. He looked back at Seamus, who was eyeing the pieces of cloth.

    ¡°Here.¡± James handed the woolen apparel to the other man. Seamus showed a sign of relief as he slipped on the knitted gloves.

    ¡°Thank the gods. This fur lining in the armor really doesn¡¯t do much for me,¡± the young man commented as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. James slipped on his woolen hat, which fit snugly around his blond hair.

    ¡°Thanks for this,¡± James smiled at the shaman as he gave a thumbs-up. ¡°We¡¯ll be back before you know it. I have a good feeling about this place.¡± He gave Dahlia one last look and gave her a small wave, which she returned with her own smile and wave. James soon stepped onto the small deck bridge, his eyes turning back to the island ahead.

    The group of six made their way to the snowy forest ahead, Seamus leading everyone onto the path ahead. James was right next to the young man, following Seamus as he guided them through the forest¡¯s path.

    ¡°How far away is the settlement on this island?¡± Miles asked as they walked, talking over the sound of snow crunching beneath their boots.

    ¡°Its name is Aldren, and it¡¯s not too far from the port,¡± Seamus answered. ¡°We should come up in a short while,¡± he assured the group. James looked back, watching as the sight of the ship and docks grew farther and farther away. The group soon made a turn on the path, and before he knew it, the sight of Frostbite disappeared behind the trees.

    James looked back at their path, surveying everyone¡¯s expressions. They all looked ready for a fight, their hands resting on the pommels of their weapons as they walked along the snowy forest. Bjorn and Haggard looked excited, and even Miles had a spring in his step. Edmund was busy fiddling with the sword on his back, making sure its sheath was free to move, and the blade slid in and out perfectly. Seamus was walking at a brisk pace, scarf snugly wrapped around his neck and mouth, and his nose turned a soft red. Like Edmund, Seamus also fiddled with his sword and sheath, albeit subtly. James felt sentimental in a way, a small smile drifting onto his face.

    ¡®What¡¯s with that?¡¯ Faust commented, mentioning the minor hit of nostalgia James was feeling.

    ¡®I¡¯m not sure myself,¡¯ James answered.

    Truth be told, however, the group reminded him of a rag-tag group of adventurers, all of them teaming up together to take on the villain of the story. They had their tank, rogue, and fighter. If Dahlia had come with them, she could¡¯ve easily filled the role of healer. James and Seamus would be the clear outliers among the group, their roles not yet set in stone. Vanguard, ranger, Wizard, who knows? Yes, he could see it now. A small band of misfits, all prepared to confront the morally corrupt antagonist of their story.

    Instead of a corrupt evil king or dark Wizard, however, they were all going up against a creature that was the stuff of nightmares. An abomination that threatened a horrific, slow, and agonizing fate worse than death. James felt his gloved hand clench in reflex, remembering his talk with the voices in his mindscape. He wouldn¡¯t ever back down from his promise, no matter what. The young man sighed softly as he shook his thoughts away. He wanted to focus on something else, anything else.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    James turned to look at his surroundings, wondering if there was any natural life on this island.

    ¡®Hopefully not any wolves¡­¡¯

    As James thought back to his last encounter with dire creatures, he noticed the surrounding greenery. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the foreign plants.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t seen any trees like these before,¡± James commented as he looked upon the natural towers of wood and green. He couldn¡¯t help but feel fascinated by them.

    ¡®They almost look like fir trees¡­ but with the features and structure of other types¡¯

    ¡°Vern trees. They¡¯re native to the northern parts of Valenfrost, so it¡¯s understandable you haven¡¯t seen them until now,¡± Seamus explained.

    ¡°They¡¯re also fire-resistant, right?¡± Edmund spoke up, looking at the trees with an eye of interest.

    ¡°Yeah, and tough as all hell,¡± Bjorn commented. ¡°But don¡¯t let that fool you. If you get one on fire, it burns with a heat hotter than an Ignition spell. The dwarves up north use them for their forges since the wood burns much better than coal.¡±

    James was about to ask about their durability before Seamus suddenly stopped, catching the other man off guard. James skidded his walk to a stop, nearly slipping on the snow beneath him.

    ¡°What is it?¡± James asked as he turned to Seamus, whose widening eyes were staring up ahead. He pulled the scarf down, visibly distressed.

    ¡°Burning,¡± Seamus spoke out in realization. Before James could ask, the smell had finally reached him. It was a stench he never wanted to experience again, ever since the Siege of Yorktown. The aroma of burning homes. Seamus was already picking his pace up, turning it into a run as he left behind the mostly confused group.

    ¡°Shit!¡± James cursed, already moving his feet. He didn¡¯t turn to see if everyone else had the same realization since he knew he possibly had mere moments before Seamus got himself into danger.

    ¡°Seamus!¡± He called out behind the young man, his eyes moving to the open sky to see the telltale black pillars of smoke.

    ¡®I hope we¡¯re not too late!¡¯

    James wondered how many people could be in danger, the amount of people in the settlement of Aldren. Would they be able to fend for themselves? Would they even survive an encounter with that thing?

    He shook those thoughts away, gritting his teeth.

    ¡®One thing at a time¡­¡¯ He spoke to himself, deciding to focus on the threat. ¡®Faust, are you sure there isn¡¯t a presence here?¡¯

    ¡®I am sure of it. I doubt it¡¯s one of those creatures again. It¡¯s possible that it¡¯s something else.¡¯

    James blinked.

    ¡®Something else? But that storm¡­ I doubt anyone besides Seamus would risk going through¡­¡¯

    Still, James couldn¡¯t rule that possibility out. He could still see Seamus¡¯ figure ahead, who was outrunning his sprint.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± James muttered, hoping that he wouldn¡¯t get left behind. Fortunately for him, Seamus slowed down, letting James catch up to him. The blond man panted heavily as he reached Seamus¡¯ side, who had stopped his run.

    ¡°Fuck¡­¡± James panted, holding his hurting side as he tried to stand up straight. He was about to ask Seamus why he had stopped before his eyes glanced over in front of him. He blinked, unsure of how he had missed it.

    There was a small town ahead, open and free. A settlement that had no visible walls or defenses. At least, that¡¯s what it had been. Most of the buildings and huts were in flames, black smoke emitting from them like a smokestack back on Earth. James felt sick to his stomach, despite not seeing any bodies anywhere. He could feel the flames from where he was standing, the heat and smell bringing back some terrible memories.

    James heard footsteps behind him, the sound putting him on high alert as he spun around, sword halfway drawn. He relaxed at the sight of his group, all of whom were staring at the sight before them.

    ¡°What the¡­ What happened?¡± Edmund asked, wide-eyed as he stared at the hypnotic destruction. James tried to find the words, but Seamus¡¯ hand grabbing at his cloak interrupted him.

    ¡°Get down!¡± Seamus suddenly said in a panicked, hushed voice. James did as told, hitting the snowy ground as Seamus hurried to hide behind a nearby fallen tree. The group followed suit, hiding as James peeked over the log.

    ¡°What is it?¡± James whispered to Seamus.

    ¡®Bandits? Rival clan? Fuck¡­ Is it the marauders?¡¯

    James looked back at Seamus, who held a single finger up to his lips.

    Seamus slowly moved to peek with James, watching the burning town. James wanted to ask what was up, but he then heard it. Voices. They sounded distant, accompanied by laughter and snorts. James furrowed his brow as a group of enormous figures walked into sight, dragging what looked like a child.

    ¡®No¡­ It¡¯s a gnome¡­¡¯

    James recognized how his proportions were shaped. Similar to Wheaton from Vindis, the gnome¡¯s head was slightly oversized for his small frame, and his arms and legs were unusually long.

    ¡°Get this piece of meat to the camp. Put him with the others! He¡¯ll probably know where it is,¡± one figure said loudly, his thick accent making his pronunciation sound strange. James had to strain his hearing to catch more of the conversation the strangers were having.

    ¡°What about that... thing in the woods?¡± One of them asked, his voice genuinely full of nervousness.

    ¡°That¡¯s a rumor! A bear mauled Gron and Kir. Nothing to it!¡±

    ¡°Still¡­ a bear¡­¡±

    ¡°Get going, will ya! Otherwise, Blood-Irk is going to have our heads for this! We have to burn this town down before sundown!¡± The bigger one shouted at his comrades, who nodded as they dragged off the gnome. James squinted as he saw two figures leave with the gnome, leaving behind two of their accomplices.

    One of them came close to one of the burning buildings, his visage finally exposed. James recoiled from the sight, his eyes staring at what looked like a deformed half-man, half¡­ whatever the fuck it was.

    His head was shaped like a malformed potato, and one of his eyes was blocked by what looked like fungus growing over his eyebrow. His skin was a sickly green, with visible pockmarks covering every surface. He was bald, with long scars on his scalp and what looked like a dent in his skull. His jaw had a noticeable underbite, showing off his yellowish crooked teeth marred with black residue. The thing wore strange armor, which looked like he assembled pieces of different armor sets and tied them together with wire.

    ¡°Orcs...¡± Seamus muttered, answering James¡¯ internal thoughts.

    ¡®That¡¯s an orc?¡¯

    James focused more on the two others who fell behind the initial orc. They looked similar but had some hair and some more malformations. One had an eye bigger than his other, its green iris lazily looking around as the normal one stayed static. The last orc was bigger than the first one but didn¡¯t have the same amount of armor on him. He did, however, have what looked to be a piece of an axe¡¯s end stuck in his skull, the rust on the steel showing that it was an old wound.

    ¡°What the hell do we do?¡± James whispered to Seamus, who grimaced.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Orcs aren¡¯t as easy to dispatch as per se¡­ a bandit or barbarian. Especially with that armor,¡± Seamus muttered. He slid back down the log, resting his back against the wood as he thought.

    ¡°Orcs¡­ Interesting to see them so far from their usual hunting spots,¡± Miles commented.

    ¡°They¡¯re part of a tribe, it seems. Can¡¯t make out the symbol.¡± Haggard muttered as he took a peek.

    Archibald cursed under his breath at the mention of that. ¡°This doesn¡¯t sound good... We should retreat, get our bearings before we do anything¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be a damned coward!¡± Bjorn hissed at the elf. ¡°It¡¯s obvious what we must do.¡± The dwarf grinned as he brought out an ax, his left hand reaching for the shield on his back.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Seamus called out in a hushed whisper. Bjorn stopped his attempted rush, frowning as he looked at Seamus. The young man seemed to think momentarily before looking at James. ¡°Do you still remember that tactic you wanted to use against the marauders?¡±

    James raised an eyebrow, remembering his shitty attempt at guerrilla tactics in the Siege of Yorktown. It had all gone to hell quick after the first few seconds of the raid since James had given out his position when he passed out screaming. Still, James could remember what the initial plan was.

    ¡°Yeah, I do,¡± he responded, realizing what Seamus was going for.

    ¡°Tactics?¡± Edmund asked.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± Haggard groaned. ¡°It¡¯s a coward¡¯s way of doing it.¡± However, no one but Bjorn was listening to Haggard since everyone else had their eyes on Seamus, who had a grim look on his face.

    ¡°I have an idea.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 25: Invaders

    Krik scowled as he tried to set the house ablaze, holding his torch against the wooden walls. The wood resisted, however, and the flame did nothing more than lick at it.

    ¡°Those trees are fireproof, brother,¡± Soreg commented.

    ¡°Damned humans and dwarves made those things out of the surrounding trees,¡± Froq added. Krik sighed angrily, throwing the torch into the home. Hopefully, its insides would burn better. Those vern trees had been nothing but a nuisance to the tribe ever since they had arrived here days ago. Fortunately, they had found a couple of other trees that burned nicely to their flame, warming up their camps to the north and east. Still, Krik was annoyed.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t that damned Blood-Irk give us Fireball runes? I bet these trees would fall to that spell¡¯s might,¡± the orc muttered.

    ¡°Because we only have two left dunghead! Shaman Isshik isn¡¯t here to give us more, so we cannot waste them like with our food!¡± Soreg explained. Krik felt his stomach rumble, which sounded out loudly. Froq grimaced, his bigger left eye looking around the burning town as he walked off to the western end of the place. Krik scratched at his skull, his rough fingers brushing against the rusty ax head buried there.

    ¡°Speaking of food, I am starving for meat. Are you sure we cannot eat the prisoners? That gnome we caught earlier has his flesh seared, just as I like it.¡± Krik drooled, his arm wiping away some of his dripping saliva.

    Froq nodded in agreement. ¡°Yes¡­ We have only eaten bits of wolf meat and rations since arriving. Those humans we caught would be a much better alternative than what we have.¡±

    Soreg shook his head. ¡°No, absolutely not. Blood-Irk wants them alive. At least until we find the vault.¡±

    ¡°Is he even sure this is the place? I doubt Yorn would place his famous vault here,¡± Krik commented.

    ¡°It¡¯s not here, stupid!¡± Soreg shouted back. ¡°That vault is somewhere else. This is something else, I think. Something that he didn¡¯t care enough to put ships on guard for invaders. Froq, how old do you think it is?¡± Soreg asked as he looked around the burning town. ¡°Froq?¡± The orc asked once more, his hand at his spear¡¯s shaft. Krik followed his motions, reaching for his club, which resembled a hatchet¡¯s handle.

    Both orcs walked to where they had last seen their comrade, peeking around the burning homes. Krik felt his nerves on edge as he looked for Froq, forcing his feet to move. His boots suddenly bumped against something, causing him to jump as he pulled out his club. His heart dropped at the sight of Froq¡¯s corpse, the orc¡¯s single eye lifeless. Half of his skull was caved in like an eggshell.

    ¡°Soreg!¡± He called, and the other orc rushed to him, spear drawn.

    ¡°Dead.¡± Soreg scowled, kicking at the body.

    ¡°No shit, stupid! I don¡¯t care about Froq! I want to know if it was that¡­Thing¡­¡± Krik muttered that last part, looking around himself like he had uttered a cursed spirit¡¯s name, their souls ready to jump from the shadows.

    ¡°What? How many times do I have to explain this to you? It is a myth! A story your birth mother told you to keep ya in check! It isn¡¯t real!¡± Soreg reprimanded Krik, who decided that the best option was to keep quiet. ¡°Besides, the Butcher mutilates its victims. This is different. Precise. Quiet...¡± The orc sniffed at the air, scowling. ¡°Humane.¡± Soreg turned to Krik. ¡°Must be stragglers. Ones we missed.¡±

    ¡°What? I thought we got all of them.¡±

    ¡°Do you even hear a word I¡¯m saying?¡± Soreg scowled.

    Before Krik could say something biting, a rock hit the side of Soreg¡¯s head. It drew some blood but did not injure the orc. Soreg cursed loudly, turning to where the rock had come from.

    Krik glimpsed someone¡¯s cloak disappearing behind one of the intact houses, his eyes narrowing as he gestured toward the location. Soreg nodded quietly, moving to the other side of the building while Krik pursued the human from where he had last seen him. Krik held his club, the end of which was wrapped in sharp wire and custom spikes he had put on. He turned the corner of the wooden home, raising his club to end any pathetic weakling in front of him. Instead, he was met with the end of a blunt and bloody hammer, his vision going white as he fell back on his arse.

    ¡°Agh! My nose!¡± The orc gurgled out, blood filling his broken mouth as he felt someone¡ªa bunch of someones¡ªtackle him back to the ground.

    ¡°Hold him down!¡±

    ¡°Shut him up!¡±

    ¡°Haggard! A little help?¡±

    The orc barely opened his eyes before the hammer returned, this time making the orc¡¯s vision turn black as he lost consciousness.

    <hr>

    James peeked from his spot behind the unburnt building, which differed from the one Haggard and the others hid by.

    ¡°Come out, you coward!¡± the deformed creature shouted out, kicking over a barrel as he searched the dirt streets of the burning town. James could feel a sense of familiarity in the situation, his heart dropping as the scene changed for an instant. For a split second, the scene flashed back to the burning buildings of Yorktown. It was enough to make James wince, putting his hand on his helmet as he shut his eyes. He could hear his ragged breathing, which seemed to make it worse.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that day again¡­ It¡¯s just a memory,¡± James murmured silently, taking several deep breaths. ¡°Focus on the plan,¡± he whispered softly, slowly opening his eyes as he turned back to peek around the corner.

    The orc was still walking and shouting, searching through the streets as he neared the house where James was hiding.

    ¡®Might be a good time for someone to distract him¡­¡¯ Faust pointed out.

    James nodded in agreement, his hand clenched onto a decent-sized stone as he barely peeked from the corner, doing his best to stay hidden while watching the orc. He focused on another building nearby, watching how Seamus slowly appeared and peeked out from behind the building¡¯s collapsed form. Seamus soon stepped out quickly, his arm extending as he threw his stone at the orc¡¯s back. The projectile struck the armor, making the orc curse as he turned to where Seamus was. Edmund¡¯s rock then hit his shoulder from another direction, making the orc fully turn his back on James.

    James stepped out for a quick moment, already moving to take a stance as he stepped forward with his left foot, his right arm cocking back. He pitched the stone as if it were a softball, putting all his strength into it. The rock whizzed through the air like a rocket before it finally made contact with the brute¡¯s face. James watched as the strike sent the orc stumbling, leaving him open as the bloodied stone fell to the dirt, along with the orc¡¯s spear. He wasted no time sprinting to the dazed orc as he shouted.

    ¡°Get him! Now!¡± James tackled the orc, using his weight to take him down. Unfortunately, the orc was much more formidable, his strength outdoing James as he shook out of his dazed state. The young man cursed silently before dodging the orc¡¯s attempted grab. James somehow managed to get behind the orc, his arms coming up under the brute¡¯s arms. James held the orc in a terrible attempt at an underarm hold, his height barely reaching the orc¡¯s own. Still, James kept the behemoth in his grasp.

    James could see Edmund emerge from one of the buildings, broadsword in hand, as he rushed to help.

    ¡°Edmund! We need him alive!¡± James managed out, making sure the mercenary knew what their objective was. Edmund nodded and sheathed his sword before he moved to help subdue the struggling orc, who shouted at them incoherently. Seamus soon came out, expression anxious as he noticed the situation.

    ¡°Stay back, Seamus! We got it!¡± James shouted before he felt the orc try to kick at him and Edmund, shaking around as if he were a dog.

    ¡°Get the fuck off of me!¡± The orc growled, spittle flying out of his mouth as he shook violently. James could feel his grasp slipping, his eyes moving to look for the orc¡¯s weapon. He spotted it, a sharp-looking spear on the ground.

    ¡°Seamus! The spear!¡± James shouted, knowing the orc would go for the weapon once he broke free.

    Seamus obliged and moved to grab the weapon as James and Edmund struggled to bring the orc down. James watched as the orc kicked Edmund away before suddenly throwing him back. James gritted his teeth and moved to unsheathe his sword.

    ¡°Carapa¨C¡±

    An armored boot striking at his chest interrupted James. He flew to the ground, more out of surprise than pain. He caught his breath and looked up to see Edmund try to grab at his sword before the orc¡¯s enormous fist struck him. The punch sent the mercenary to the ground, the strike hard enough to send his helmet flying off. Seamus tried to help, but the orc kicked him away, sending him into the dirt a few meters away.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± James cursed. He fully unsheathed his sword and tried to slash at the orc but failed, his sword¡¯s edge missing before the behemoth kicked at his wrist, sending his sword flying out of reach. James felt the orc¡¯s boot hit his side, sending him to the ground. He groaned, grabbing at his side as he tried to get up. He just needed his sword and maybe¡­

    James saw the orc¡¯s shadow tower over him, his eyes moving to look up at the greenish creature, a shit-eating grin on the brute¡¯s bloodied lips as he cracked his knuckles.

    ¡®Shit¡­¡¯ James mentally groaned.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to break you slowly¡­¡± The orc chuckled as he stepped closer to James, whose hand grabbed a fistful of the ground beneath him. ¡°You will regret trying to get the jump on me,¡± the dumbass continued, monologuing like some idiot. Just as James was about to interrupt, Faust¡¯s voice came into his mind.

    ¡®James, grab at his head when you can. I got an idea I want to try out.¡¯

    ¡®What? Why?¡¯

    ¡®Just trust me¡­¡¯

    James mentally nodded at Faust, hoping the spirit knew what he was doing. He looked up at the behemoth before him, still droning about crushing James¡¯ bones into a powder.

    ¡°Are you just going to keep talking? Cause it¡¯s only going to make this hurt a lot more,¡± James retorted at the brute, grinning back as the orc¡¯s face twisted in confusion. James didn¡¯t allow the bastard to get smart, his hand bringing up the fistful of dirt he had been collecting. He threw it at the orc¡¯s eyes, blindsiding him and giving himself a chance to retaliate. The brute cursed loudly, covering his face as James sprang into action, his hands grabbing both sides of the orc¡¯s head.

    There was a sudden feeling of piercing and burning pain, his eyes flaring in heat as the world went white. James felt his mind clash with the orcs, an unbearable pain coming over him for a moment before a surge of energy overcame his body, making it explode in heat. James felt his lungs involuntarily gasp, his hands quickly recoiling as the world returned to normal.

    James felt sweat dampen his blond hair, a sudden influx of adrenaline pumping through his veins as he panted heavily. He looked down at his hands, which felt like they were burning hot despite being unscathed. He looked up at the orc, who was staring at James. There was fear in his eyes as he tried to keep his balance, his feet stumbling around like a drunk.

    ¡°Wh-What are¡ª?¡± The orc¡¯s words were cut off when a spear pierced his throat. The sudden action made James jump in surprise and horror. He watched as the orc¡¯s single eye widened, his hand going over his bleeding throat as he dropped.

    James looked down at the dying orc, shock overcoming him before he looked up at the attacker. Seamus was standing there, his body tensed and heaving. His eyes glinted with a strange and dangerous look, something James never expected to see in the young man. Seamus blinked, his green eyes widening as the crazed look in them winked away as if it was never there. He dropped the bloodied spear, staring at the corpse as his hands slightly shook.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡­ He was going to¡­¡± Seamus didn¡¯t find the words, his voice shaking as he tried to explain himself.

    James swallowed, slowly getting up as he wiped his hands despite no blood on them. ¡°It¡¯s fine, Seamus,¡± he assured the young man, who went silent. James looked down at the dead orc one more time, frowning. Despite Seamus killing the creature, James didn¡¯t focus on that.

    ¡®Faust. What the hell did we do?¡¯ he asked the spirit, his eyes focusing on the fading blue glow in the orc¡¯s eyes, mimicking James¡¯ own.

    ¡®Not sure,¡¯ Faust answered back, his voice sounding like how James felt. Elated, surprised, and full of energy. ¡®But it felt good.¡¯

    James shuddered a little, unsure of what to make of the situation. He noticed Edmund walking up to the scene, rubbing the bruise on the right side of his face. James could see the young mercenary¡¯s helmet in his right hand, dented and dirtied.

    ¡°Ugh¡­ I thought we weren¡¯t supposed to kill him?¡± Edmund asked, scratching at his brownish hair as he looked down at the dead orc.

    ¡°It got out of hand,¡± James answered, sighing as he stared at the corpse. He felt more than a little disturbed and shook at the sight, the memory of the orc¡¯s bleeding throat being forever burned into his mind. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here. Maybe the others had better luck subduing one.¡±

    <hr>

    James raised an eyebrow at the unconscious orc tied up at the edge of the snowy forest, his face looking as if someone had caved it in.

    ¡°He looks dead,¡± James commented.

    ¡°Nah, that¡¯s how his face is,¡± Bjorn replied.

    ¡°I meant the mashed nose and bloody jaw,¡± James pointed out. ¡°Haggard, are you sure you held back?¡± James turned to look at the hammer-wielding man, who was cleaning his weapon.

    ¡°Believe me, I held back. I gave him the equivalent of two love taps to make sure he stayed down.¡± Haggard looked at his hammer, which was now blood-free. He grinned as he holstered it, making sure it was on the right.

    ¡°What about the first orc?¡± Seamus asked. ¡°You caved in half his skull.¡±

    ¡°I overestimated how tough orcs are. That was an accident. Just like with that poor bastard you killed,¡± Haggard shot back.

    ¡°Hey, let¡¯s all focus on what¡¯s important.¡± James interrupted, nipping any conflict right in the bud. ¡°From what we know, the orcs are keeping prisoners. People we need to focus on saving right now. This guy here might know where they¡¯re taking them. We just need him to wake up¡­¡±

    ¡°I got it covered,¡± Archibald said, unsheathing his rapier. Before James could stop the elf, Archibald stabbed at the orc¡¯s knee, causing the prisoner to shout in pain.

    ¡°Agh! Fuck!¡±

    James looked at the elf, who had a smug look. ¡°He was faking being unconscious. I saw his eyes slightly open and close a couple minutes back,¡± Archibald explained, cleaning and sheathing his rapier. The elf tapped at the side of his head. ¡°Can¡¯t fool my eyes, foul creature.¡± He grinned at the orc, who scowled.

    ¡®Are you going to interrogate him?¡¯ Faust suddenly asked.

    ¡®You mean your way of interrogation? I doubt you questioned prisoners humanely during your time in Cyrus¡¯ legion,¡¯ James asked Faust.

    ¡®Perceptive, aren¡¯t you? How else are you going to get the answers you need? Cut off a few fingers. That should get him spilling,¡¯ Faust suggested.

    ¡®I¡¯ll come up with something else, thank you very much,¡¯ James answered, knowing he¡¯d rather approach this civilly.

    ¡°Fucking knife-ears,¡± the orc commented before he spat blood at the mercenary. Archibald dodged it, and the spit landed on Bjorn¡¯s clothes and armor. That was enough to make the dwarf angrily come at the orc before Haggard held him back.

    ¡°Let me at him!¡± Bjorn shouted angrily, trying to break from Haggard¡¯s grasp.

    James looked at the sight and got a simple idea. ¡°If you don¡¯t cooperate, my friend here will let the dwarf do what he wants to you,¡± James spoke to the orc, giving him a small smile. The orc¡¯s look of defiance soon dropped as he realized his situation.

    ¡°What?¡± the creature asked, looking at James, who shrugged.

    ¡°I mean, if you don¡¯t want to help us, I¡¯ll just let Bjorn here express that built-up anger he¡¯s been harboring these last few days¡­ Right, Edmund?¡± James turned to Edmund, who wasn¡¯t among those holding the dwarf back. Edmund had a confused look for a second before he caught on.

    ¡°Right. Bjorn here has been itching to let loose on something for these last few days. You would be a nice opponent for him to, uh¡­ Ahem, express his anger,¡± Edmund said, going along with James. James felt himself grin as he watched the orc squirm in his bindings. All the while, Bjorn was shouting incoherently about gutting the prisoner like a silverhead.

    ¡°Fine! Fine! I¡¯ll tell you what I know! Just please don¡¯t let him near me,¡± the orc begged.

    ¡°Smart,¡± James congratulated the orc, patting him on the shoulder as he looked at Haggard. ¡°You should probably take Bjorn far from here. Get him to cool down,¡± he muttered to Haggard, who nodded as he dragged Bjorn off to the nearby forest, followed by Seamus and Miles.

    James sighed as he looked back at the orc, who was looking more relieved as Bjorn was taken away.

    ¡®Civilly, you said?¡¯ The spirit asked.

    ¡®Ah, quit complaining. My idea worked.¡¯ James shut Faust up before taking a seat on a nearby stump.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s start with a simple question. Where are your friends taking the prisoners?¡± James questioned, leaning in. The orc licked some of the blood from his lips and exposed teeth. His eyes concentrated as he looked at James.

    ¡°Do you have a death wish, human?¡± The orc asked, scowling.

    ¡°Just tell me, or else I¡¯m bringing the dwarf back,¡± James answered curtly, furrowing his brow.

    ¡°Camp is not far from here. We set up a small outpost. We usually take the prisoners there,¡± the orc explained with clear hesitance. After that, they¡¯re taken to the main camp.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s the main camp?¡± James asked, arms crossed. ¡°Can you take us there?¡±

    The orc shook his head, cursing in another language. He spat out a glob of crimson spit before he looked back at James. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know where the main camp is. I¡¯m just a grunt. You see, Soreg was our leader. He should know¡­¡±

    James set his jaw at that, hands clenching into fists as he stared at the orc. The orc was clearly holding back information, judging from the amused way he explained himself. Just a grunt. A convenient excuse. This orc wasn¡¯t fond of sharing vital information. For some reason, James felt as if threats weren¡¯t going to work on him.

    ¡®You should cleave that misshapen head of his,¡¯ Faust growled, the spirit¡¯s anger flooding James¡¯ body. It felt as if someone injected strong liquor into his veins, heat spreading across him like a wave.

    ¡®Calm yourself,¡¯ James hissed internally. ¡®I¡¯m not going to cut his fucking head off! Not when he knows where the prisoners are held!¡¯

    ¡®Like I care for that!¡¯ Faust said with reprieve. ¡®They¡¯re probably already dead! Kill the bastard!¡¯

    Red tinted his vision as the spirit¡¯s anger grew, heat emanating from James¡¯ eyes. James immediately covered his gaze, his head turning away from the orc as he breathed puffs of steam that rose into the air like clouds. He had no clue that the Centurion¡¯s anger would bring out so much heat.

    ¡°I need a break,¡± James muttered in a breath. He stepped away from it all, pulling off his wool hat. He felt beads of sweat roll down his forehead, which felt like it was almost steaming.

    ¡®Faust, I need you to shut the fuck up and CALM down. The last thing I need is to lose my cool. Especially when there are LIVES at stake. Understand?¡¯

    The spirit did not answer. Yet the anger slowly began to dissipate, his body heat no longer increasing. He supposed that would do for now.

    ¡°Alright,¡± James finally said, releasing his irritation as he reined in his emotions. It seemed Faust¡¯s spirit still affected him, causing his anger to flare up without warning.

    ¡°What happened there?¡± Edmund asked as he stepped up to James, clear confusion in his expression.

    ¡°Remember what I told you back at the cave about that spirit? Sometimes it messes with my emotions, making them flare up,¡± James explained. ¡°I guess the situation must¡¯ve triggered something. I¡¯m not sure.¡±

    ¡°Well, when you¡¯re ready, we should come up with a plan to help those imprisoned,¡± Edmund suggested, looking back at the orc, who was being watched by Archibald. James took a second to think, feeling the chilly breeze of the forest cool his head and mind down enough to think straight.

    ¡°I have an idea, but you might not like it.¡± James looked at Edmund, who grimaced.

    ¡°Please tell me it¡¯s a better plan than the one you had back in that cave.¡±

    ¡°No promises.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 26: The Butcher

    James watched as the orc known as Krik walked along the snowy path, his prisoner now free of any bindings. Still, Haggard and Archibald closely watched Krik despite the lack of weapons on the orc.

    ¡°How much farther?¡± James asked, to which Krik responded.

    ¡°Not much longer. We¡¯re getting close,¡± the orc sniveled as he wiped his mouth and nose, both dribbling with blood and saliva.

    ¡°What¡¯s the plan again, James?¡± Seamus asked, eyebrow raised.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to use Krik here to be our bait.¡±

    ¡°Bait?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to lure out this guy¡¯s friends and take them out, hopefully with little of a fight if we catch them by surprise,¡± James whispered back.

    ¡°Ah¡­ an ambush.¡± Seamus rubbed his chin in thought. ¡°You sure it¡¯ll work?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m hoping it works. Since sneaking in isn¡¯t an option.¡± James remembered what Krik had said about how the orcs keep the prisoners in sight, crossing out a stealth mission. Still... ¡°You, Miles, and Edmund are going to free the prisoners while the rest of us try to hold them off,¡± he added.

    ¡°What? Why me?¡± Seamus asked suddenly, looking at James with a confused look.

    ¡°I mean, if you want to fight orcs head-on, then I guess you should¡­¡±

    ¡°Ah, wait! I¡¯ll help the others with the prisoners,¡± Seamus retracted his question as quickly as he had expressed it, causing James to chuckle a little as they walked.

    Krik stopped, gesturing towards the distance. ¡°Clearing up ahead, camp near there,¡± he explained to the group. James nodded, looking at everyone else. They adjusted their belts, checking their weapons as James turned to the orc.

    ¡°You know what to do when we get there. If you so much as try to signal, Bjorn is going to make sure you don¡¯t have time to run, got it?¡± James drilled it into the orc¡¯s head that they wouldn¡¯t hesitate to take him out if he tried to screw them over. Krik nodded, his scowl and demeanor visibly showing that he wanted nothing more than to kill James and his friends.

    ¡°Call out your friends,¡± James ordered as he gestured toward the camp. The orc huffed before heading to where he needed to go. James looked towards his group.

    ¡°Alright, Haggard, Bjorn, and Archibald take places in the bushes and surround the clearing so we can flank them. Everyone else, you try to see if you can find and free any prisoners. We might only have one chance to save them.¡± James had already explained the plan at the settlement but felt he needed to reiterate it to everyone.

    ¡®It¡¯s important that everyone knows their part to play,¡¯ Faust commented to James.

    ¡°Also, one more thing, just in case.¡± James looked around at everyone, making sure the orc wasn¡¯t listening. ¡°If it all goes to hell, and we¡¯re separated, we all regroup at Aldren and the port,¡± he explained in a low voice. ¡°If you¡¯re being followed, do not lead them back to Frostbite.¡± Everyone gave their nods, moving to enact their plan, despite a couple of complaints from Bjorn and Haggard about fighting ¡®fairly¡¯.

    James watched Seamus and his group move off into the forest before focusing on Haggard and Bjorn, who were moving to the bushes surrounding the clearing. It didn¡¯t take long for James and Archibald to get into position as well, hiding behind a snow-topped bush. They peeked through the leaves to watch Krik walk out of the treeline, acting as if he had a broken leg, just like he was supposed to.

    James shifted to see if he could get a better view of the camp. His eyes passed over the small encampment lit by a distant campfire. He could see other figures like Krik emerge from it, calling over to the orc.

    ¡°Hey! Who goes there!¡±

    ¡°It is me! Krik! Our leader Sars and our group were attacked in the town! It was the Butcher! It¡¯s real!¡± The orc cried out his part perfectly.

    ¡°What¡¯s the Butcher?¡± Archibald asked James.

    ¡°Krik told me it¡¯s a boogeyman of sorts that his tribe made up. They think it exists on the island and is hunting them down,¡± James explained, remembering his talk with the orc. He had initially wondered if the Butcher they were speaking of could be one of those creatures he had fought yesterday, considering the descriptions of the mauled orc bodies, but Faust had suggested that it could¡¯ve been a bear, most likely since the bodies weren¡¯t crystalized nor had any frostbite. Still, James would have to look into it later.

    ¡°The Butcher? Like in the stories?¡± The other orc asked.

    ¡°Yes!¡± Krik called out. ¡°It¡¯s around here! Please help me! I¡¯m hurt!¡± Something irked James about what Krik had said recently, and back to the town.

    ¡°Sars¡­¡± James muttered.

    ¡°Hm?¡± Archibald asked.

    ¡°He mentioned Soreg led his group when we interrogated him¡­ So why did he say Sars?¡± James pointed out. Realization suddenly hit the both of them as they looked at the orcs at the camp. Now, only one was talking to the injured orc, who was still calling him over. The injured orc had hands raised in surrender, with his fingers tilted as if pointing at the nearby bushes.

    James quickly stood, shouting. ¡°He¡¯s signaling to his friends where we are!¡± He called out to Bjorn and Haggard before he pulled his sword out. He saw figures move in from the trees, towering over Archibald and James as they readied their clubs at the two men.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± James cursed, retreating into the clearing with the elf as they held their weapons up in defense. He risked a glance behind him, Seeing Haggard and Bjorn retreat into the clearing as well, weapons held in front of them as they readied themselves to fight. James watched as more of the green behemoths surrounded them, most of the brutes staying behind the treeline.

    ¡°Come at us, you bastards!¡± Bjorn yelled out, his weapon raised in challenge.

    James looked back at the dwarf, mentally cursing.

    ¡®Are you trying to make things worse?!¡¯

    ¡°Not so fast!¡± One of the other orcs shouted, coming out of the bushes as he dragged Seamus out, holding a rugged-looking longsword to the young man¡¯s neck. Another came in with Edmund, holding him similarly.

    ¡°You so much as try to fight, we¡¯ll make sure these bastards are the first to fall!¡± The orc shouted out, grinning with his crooked teeth. James looked at Krik as he joined his brethren, his bloody smile wide as he chuckled. ¡°Drop your weapons like good little boys, or else this will end in a very bloody way.¡±

    ¡®Fuck fuck fuck!¡¯ James internally shouted. The last thing he wanted to do was to part with his weapon, which was the only thing standing between him and, most certainly, death.

    ¡®James. In the bushes. Movement,¡¯ Faust muttered.

    James blinked. ¡®What?¡¯

    ¡®Pay attention. Miles isn¡¯t among the ones captured. Look.¡¯

    James did his best to use his peripherals, his eyes spotting some slight movement behind the tree line, behind the orcs who were still put in the forest beyond the clearing.

    ¡®Miles,¡¯ James realized. He glanced at his group before looking back at the orcs.

    ¡°If we drop our weapons, will you let them go?¡± he asked.

    The one who held Seamus prisoner snorted. ¡°Of course, we need you all alive anyway,¡± he answered. James knew better than to trust this asshole, but he had no other way of getting Seamus and Edmund out of danger.

    ¡®Miles can help,¡¯ James reminded himself before he swallowed his pride, his hand tightly gripping his sword¡¯s hilt.

    ¡°Drop your weapons,¡± James muttered to his group. They all looked at him as if he had gone mad, Bjorn cursing in another language as Haggard stared.

    ¡°James, they¡¯ll kill us! You can¡¯t be¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just do it, Haggard!¡± James snapped, feeling the tension build as every second wasted could mean life or death. ¡°Trust. Me,¡± he muttered, his eyes looking into that of Haggard¡¯s. Haggard took a long look at James, then at Seamus. He gritted his teeth before shaking his head.

    ¡°Fine. You better know what you¡¯re doing.¡± Haggard scowled, his hands shaking as he forcefully dropped his hammer. Archibald was next, James looking over to watch as the elf scowled at him.

    ¡°You better get us out of here¡­¡± Archibald muttered as he dropped his rapier. Soon came Bjorn. He stared at James as he dropped his ax and shield.

    ¡°If you get us killed, I will tear your throat out in the next life,¡± Bjorn growled. James was the last to drop his sword, his eyes looking down at the blade. It had gone through so much with James, saving his life multiple times. He took a deep breath of the frosty air before finally dropping the sword onto the snow.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The orcs threw Edmund and Seamus into the clearing without their weapons.

    ¡°Now then¡­¡± Krik spoke up, grinning as he picked up Haggard¡¯s hammer, admiring it. ¡°For some payback.¡± The orc looked at Haggard, whose eyes widened.

    ¡°Wait! You said you need us alive!¡± James argued before feeling one of the bastards hold him back.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t kill him. I¡¯m just going to give him a couple of blunt, precise love taps.¡± He grinned as he raised the hammer, looking down at Haggard. ¡°If you so much as flinch, I¡¯ll do the same to your friends.¡± The orc sniveled. Haggard scowled but didn¡¯t resist or fight back.

    ¡°Do your fucking worst,¡± Haggard spat at the orc.

    Krik wiped the spit away from his armor, grinning. ¡°Oh, I will.¡±

    ¡°No! Dammit!¡± James struggled, not wanting to watch his friend become brutalized in front of him. ¡°Miles! Anyone!¡± He shouted out, looking to the bushes. Nothing. ¡°Fuck!¡± James cursed before one orc forcefully turned his head to Haggard. He was forced to watch as Krik raised the hammer.

    ¡®I¡¯m so fucking sorry...¡¯

    Before Krik could revel in his revenge, James heard footsteps run across crunching snow. The sound caught everyone¡¯s attention, prompting them to look towards the source.

    ¡°Miles...?¡± James asked.

    He looked toward the trees, where some orcs were still standing beyond. Sounds of fighting echoed, clashing steel and orc screams emerging from the trees without a clear glimpse of what was happening. James could only see how the orcs beyond the treeline were moving deeper into the forest, shouting at each other as the sounds of fighting grew.

    The mesmerizing event captivated everyone in the clearing. Even Krik was stunned, his hands lowering the hammer. Most of the orcs who were still in the clearing were frozen in anticipation, some even moving away from the treeline as fear painted over their faces.

    ¡®They¡¯re scared¡­¡¯

    James turned back to the forest. He could see how the tall figures of the orcs fell to something smaller, something that was slashing and cutting through them.

    ¡®Is Miles doing this?¡¯

    James wanted to believe it was Miles, but something in his gut told him it wasn¡¯t the ex-follower but something much more dangerous.

    ¡®Those screams. They aren¡¯t of anger or pain. They¡¯re of fear,¡¯ Faust voiced, his words sending a chill down James¡¯ spine.

    The screams beyond the clearing suddenly stopped, putting everyone on guard as they watched the treeline. Miles was not the one to come out of the bushes. Instead, a blur of fur, skin, and steel came out at blinding speed. Without warning, it went for the orc closest to the tree line.

    There was the flash of something quick as the orc¡¯s ax contacted something else, sparks flying. However, the dumbfounded orc had no time to defend a second attack, as there was another flash of steel. Dark, oily blood splattered across the snowy ground. James blinked. He didn¡¯t even see the strike. The orc victim fell, throat torn open as oily crimson pooled on the clear snow.

    James looked up, seeing what looked to be a small man and bear hybrid, a fur-covered head complete with fuzzy torn ears. Bandages wrapped around his heaving chest, leaving his scarred shoulders and abdomen out in the open cold. Without a word, the stranger rushed towards one of the other orcs near Seamus, a pair of axes held in both hands. The orc didn¡¯t have time to react before the bear-man slid on the snow and kicked at his knee. The sudden kick was enough to forcefully bend it the other way and break it with a sickening snap.

    The orc screamed in pain as he fell, just as the stranger swung both of his bearded axes at the brute¡¯s head. They rammed into the orc¡¯s skull with a sickening crack, speckling blood all over the stranger. The savage man raised a fur boot and kicked the orc over, ripping the axes out in the process. With a heavy thump, the corpse fell over onto the snow, more dark blood staining the blank white clearing. The man-bear hybrid panted heavily, clouds of its breath coming out like chimney smoke. It was all over in a matter of seconds, stunning all who witnessed the sight.

    ¡°It¡¯s the Butcher!¡± One orc exclaimed in fear before Krik shouted a response.

    ¡°Shut it! It¡¯s just a human wearing a bear¡¯s head!¡± While his voice sounded confident, James couldn¡¯t mistake the small ounce of fear in the brute¡¯s words. ¡°Stop standing around and kill it!¡± Krik shouted once more. The other orcs seemed to hesitate, which was a mistake they would come to regret. Wasting no time, the stranger rushed to the orc near James, who was quickly trying to bring up his sword in defense.

    It would be for naught. The bear-man¡¯s ax chopped through the creature¡¯s raised wrist, leaving it hanging with exposed bone. The orc screamed in pain before being silenced by the bear¡¯s other ax slicing his throat.

    One of the other orcs tried to come at the stranger while he did this, but the savage dodged his club and swiftly moved underneath the swing. The bear-man hybrid buried his ax on the orc¡¯s arm before slicing up the entire length of its biceps and shoulder, sending even more specks of blood everywhere. The orc¡¯s screams were silenced when the ax tore through his throat, his end coming in a matter of seconds.

    James forced himself to look away from the sight, his eyes going back to the rest of his group. He saw how Krik stared at the ¡®Butcher¡¯ in horror and shock, his dumbfounded behavior leaving him open. Fortunately enough, Haggard seemed to have noticed this as the man reached for his stolen hammer, ripping it out of the orc¡¯s star-struck hands. Before Krik could yell out for help, however, another voice sounded out.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± Haggard interrupted the orc with a shout as he swung his signature hammer at the asshole. His enhanced strike soon impacted Krik in the chest, the sound of ribs being broken echoing through the clearing as air audibly rushed out of the orc¡¯s lungs with a whoosh.

    All hell broke loose. James watched as his team reached for their weapons, just as the surrounding orcs realized what was happening, their own hands reaching for their weapons. Fighting broke out in the clearing, mixed in with incoherent yells and castings.

    ¡®Get your sword, now!¡¯ Faust shouted.

    James¡¯ eyes moved to where his sword lay. He scrambled to reach for it before a green-skinned corpse dropped in the snow nearby him. He jumped in surprise before looking up at the orc¡¯s killer. It was him, the strange berserker who had come out of nowhere. Now, with a clear look at the stranger, James realized then and there that it wasn¡¯t a man at all who was donning the bear¡¯s head and fur but a young woman. She wore the top part of a bear¡¯s head on her head, covering her hair and leaving her scowling face exposed.

    Before James could say anything, the berserker ducked quickly, avoiding a club¡¯s swing. The attacker knocked off her bear¡¯s head, however, leaving her head exposed. James saw dirty red hair fall out as a result, tied up in a loose knot as it flowed out. The berserker lunged at her attacker, yelling out angrily in what sounded like a battle cry. She went on all fours, galloping at the orc and using her momentum to slam her shoulder against the idiot, making him stumble back.

    ¡®Sword! NOW!¡¯ Faust reiterated, snapping James out of it.

    James turned and grabbed for his sword before moving to help the strange woman. Instead, he saw how the woman held her axes by their shoulders, using them to punch at her opponent. Blood speckled everywhere before she finally killed the orc by slamming the edges of the axes into his eyes and throat, making James recoil in surprise and shock.

    ¡°James, we need to go now! More are coming!¡± Haggard shouted out from behind him. The blond man turned toward the camp, seeing how more figures appeared, followed along by the sound of what the young man could guess was a war horn.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get the hell out of here!¡± James responded, looking back at the chaos of fighting. Edmund was retreating with Archibald, a visible wound on his arm as he fended off an orc armed with an ax. Bjorn was with Haggard, lopping off an orc¡¯s head with a well-placed strike.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Seamus?¡± James asked, looking for the young man. He soon spotted Seamus, who was currently being cornered by a couple of orcs, sword in hand, as he tried to defend himself. ¡°Shit!¡± James cursed, moving to save Seamus.

    Unfortunately, an orc got in his way, swinging a club at James. James felt his body seize up at the sight of the attack, cursing as he felt Faust¡¯s spirit force his body to the side, making him fall onto the snowy ground painfully.

    ¡®Stop standing around like an idiot!¡¯ Faust shouted internally.

    James gritted his teeth, ignoring Faust¡¯s banter as he chanted out.

    ¡°Carapace!¡±

    James felt the rune on his shoulder react to his words and will, burning hot for a quick moment. A warm, snug feeling spread out through his body, wrapping him in an invisible blanket as the aftertaste of berries made its presence. The casting had done its job in less than a second, enough time for James to look over and see the orc¡¯s club coming at him again. James barely got out of the way, thankfully dodging the orc¡¯s attempted attack.

    ¡°Haggard! Get to Seamus!¡± He shouted out as he got back up on his feet.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± Haggard shouted back.

    James risked a glance at Haggard, who was busy with his own fight with another of the bastards. He cursed silently, looking back at his current foe. The orc was already mid-strike, however, catching James off guard with a lunge from his blunt weapon. James felt the attack hit his leather armor, the strike knocking some air out of his lungs. If he hadn¡¯t used his Carapace casting, James would most definitely have some bruised ribs.

    ¡®Thank you, Nathan.¡¯

    James grabbed onto the club with a free hand, holding it in place as he caught his breath. He quickly pulled at the club, making his attacker stumble forward before James¡¯ shoulder bashed the orc, putting all of his weight into the attack. His bash was successful, making the bastard trip backward before falling. James panted heavily before going up to the orc and kicking at the asshole¡¯s rising head, blood coming out as his boot made contact.

    James turned to where Seamus was, more of the green-skinned attackers surrounding the young man, who looked to be passed out, his body slumped against a tree.

    ¡°No...¡± James heard himself mutter before forcing his feet to move. Just as James was headed toward Seamus, he saw the woman from earlier running past him, moving on all fours as she made her way to Seamus. James watched as the woman reached the group of orcs, her axes cutting through one of their jaws, making it dangle to the side of the orc¡¯s head as it stumbled around.

    The bear-woman dodged another attack before she jumped onto the orc¡¯s arm. Using the added height, she buried both of her axes into his skull, blood splattering over her and Seamus. Another orc tried to come up behind her, but she pulled her axes from the other one, swinging both in unison at the idiot¡¯s arm. He howled in pain as the woman pulled them out before she buried an ax at the attacking orc¡¯s knee, making him drop as she buried another in his side.

    James looked away before he could see what she was doing. He felt sick to his stomach, bile in the back of his mouth as he wanted to vomit.

    ¡°No time for that!¡± Haggard called before grabbing James and pulling away from the clearing. James could see how more of the green-skinned attackers were arriving at the bloody scene, chasing after James and his companions. The young man looked at Bjorn, blood staining his ax and armor as he ran with James and Haggard.

    ¡°What is the plan, James?¡± the dwarf asked, panting out as he kept up with the two.

    James got his bearings, turning back to see how that strange woman retreated into the forest, carrying what looked to be an unconscious Seamus. Miles, with his own sword covered in blood, followed her, carrying someone else on his back.

    ¡®Was he with us?¡¯ James wondered before looking back at the dwarf, who awaited to hear his current plan.

    ¡°Here¡¯s the plan, so listen closely!¡± he shouted out to his companions.

    ¡°Fucking run!¡±

 B.2 Chapter 27: The Gnome

    Seamus groaned softly as he slowly came to, his vision blurred as he looked at his surroundings. He was currently on the move, fast footsteps crunching over the snow as the icy wind hit his exposed face. Seamus blinked, realizing that he was being carried. He looked up at his carrier, blinking as he saw the focused look of a young woman, her face dirtied and covered in specks of blood as she focused ahead. He tried to speak, but he had no strength to, his vision blurring again as he blacked out once more.

    Seamus slowly regained vision again, his eyes blinking as he tried to get his bearings. He wasn¡¯t being carried anymore. Instead, he was in what looked to be a bear¡¯s den, lit up by small holes in the dirt ceiling, illuminating the den in a dim light. This strange place seemed to have some amenities, Seamus spotting what looked like a small clay pot of water in the corner. There was also a makeshift cot made up of fur nearby and what looked to be dirty blankets.

    Seamus winced and rubbed his hurting head as he tried to remember everything that had transpired. He had been about to be struck by an orc¡¯s flailing ax before that berserker woman unceremoniously killed the green-skinned brute, the visceral and bloody sight causing Seamus to pass out of pure shock.

    ¡®Guess I¡¯m still not so used to the sight¡­ huh?¡¯

    Seamus frowned, remembering how he had to try his hardest not to puke his guts out in the clearing. The young man remembered what had happened the last time he passed out, back when he fought against those marauders.

    "Oh gods,¡± Seamus muttered, his hand moving to where his sword lay beside him. He unsheathed it, sighing in relief at the reflection of his dirty, tired self. He had killed no one, it seemed, since his sword remained relatively blood-free, and there were no bodies scattered around him. Seamus blinked, realizing that he was gods know where on the island. He looked at his supposed savior, who had saved him after he had fainted.

    The berserker woman, however, was nowhere to be seen, the den empty as he looked around.

    ¡®Did she leave me to fend for myself? No¡­ this seems to be where she lives¡­ So, where did she go?¡¯

    The young man slowly stood up, examining the place that seemed to be this strange woman¡¯s home. He came across a dirty-looking cot on the ground nearby, with blankets made of what looked like scraps of cloth and fur.

    ¡°Who the hel are you?¡± Seamus asked as his eyes spotted what looked to be a grayish object, slightly hidden inside the makeshift cot. He crouched, his hands gently picking up the object in question, which turned out to be a child¡¯s stuffed doll resembling a bear. The bear looked as if someone had mauled it, with weathering and ripping from time and use. Seamus was about to investigate some more before the sound of footsteps grew near the open den, coming from behind the bushes that hid its entrance.

    Seamus quickly placed the doll away, standing up as he turned to the entrance, seeing someone emerge from the snow-capped bushes. It was her. The same woman who had killed all those orcs back at the clearing. The same person who had also saved Seamus. Kidnapped him, sure, but saved him nonetheless. She wasn¡¯t covered in blood anymore, her hands, face, and torso relatively clean, along with her two axes. The woman had what looked like a fur-lined jacket on; her sleeves ripped from what Seamus could assume was battle. She stopped at the entrance, her eyebrow raised questionably as she looked at Seamus. The young man tensed up, feeling his natural radar go off as the woman tilted her head slightly.

    Just as Seamus thought she was going to lunge at him, the berserker shrugged and walked on, ignoring him. She set her items down at the edge of the den with her axes and what looked like another pot of water. Seamus noted how her pale skin and red hair glinted with moisture, hinting that she had gone off to a source of water to clean the blood off. He could also see crude bandages on her arms and body, blood staining the ripped cloth.

    ¡®What¡¯s with her?¡¯

    Seamus couldn¡¯t understand why she was so¡­ docile. He could¡¯ve sworn this was the same person who had brutalized those orcs back at that clearing, chopping through them as if they were nothing but meat. More importantly, why did she save him? Seamus had never seen her nor recognized anything about her. That red hair was the closest he could think of being remotely familiar to him, but he shook off that thought since it was such a ludicrous assumption.

    As Seamus was thinking about leaving, he winced again, gritting his teeth as he brought a hand to his head. The woman started at that, looking at Seamus with a furrowed brow. She stood up, grabbed him by surprise, and dragged the young man to the other side of the chamber, where she sat him down forcefully.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Seamus complained, watching as the woman poked at him, examining him as if she was looking for something. She examined his head, moving his messy black hair away from his forehead, revealing his birthmark. The red-haired woman raised an eyebrow, her green eyes curiously examining the small marking as she rubbed her thumb against it as if to see if it was fake.

    She moved her eyes up to his scalp, poking at it with two fingers. Seamus winced as he felt some stinging, watching as the woman¡¯s fingers came back red with his blood. He blinked, moving to touch his own head, his own hand coming back red.

    ¡®When did I get hit in the head?¡¯ He wondered curiously before looking up at the woman, who frowned. She went still, her eyes widening as she looked back at the entrance of the den. Seamus watched as the strange woman crept to her cot, retrieving her axes as she emitted a low growl at the entrance. Seamus soon heard it. Footsteps over crunching branches and snow.

    ¡®More of those orcs?¡¯ He thought fearfully, hoping that they hadn¡¯t followed the two out of the clearing. Seamus held his breath as he watched the den¡¯s entrance, his hand moving to grab his sheathed sword nearby.

    Just as Seamus was thinking about escape plans, he heard a familiar voice coming from the entrance.

    ¡°Seamus? Are you in there?¡±

    It was Miles¡¯ voice, followed by his slow footsteps. Seamus felt himself relax at the knowledge that the mercenary was here but saw how the berserker didn¡¯t back down. Her eyes trained on the entrance as she prepared to lunge at whoever was about to pass through. Seamus then realized she would not be as helpful to Miles as she was to Seamus. The young man hurried to the entrance, watching how Miles slowly emerged from the bushes, unknowingly putting himself in danger. Seamus looked back to the den, extending his arms as he blocked the woman from attacking Miles. The berserker stared at Seamus with a confused and angry look, both axes in hand, as she scowled.

    ¡°Friend!¡± Seamus exclaimed, making sure that she couldn¡¯t get past him. ¡°He¡¯s a friend! No danger!¡± He hoped that this insane woman would understand him since he had no other way of knowing how she communicated. The berserker gave him a look before scowling behind the young man. She shook her head, her hands lowering her axes before she headed back to her side of the den. Seamus sighed in relief, his heartbeat clearly audible in his ears.

    ¡°Interesting¡­¡± Miles commented, nearly making Seamus jump from surprise. The young man turned to look at the mercenary, frowning.

    ¡®He must have followed her after the clearing. But¡­¡¯

    ¡°Where the hel were you back there? At the clearing, you could¡¯ve helped us. Yet¡­¡± Seamus trailed off as he noticed the second person by the entrance. The stranger¡¯s tiny figure made him barely noticeable.

    ¡°I was freeing him,¡± Miles explained, stepping aside to allow Seamus to get a better look at the patched-up gnome, the same one who had been taken by the orcs back at Aldren. Seamus stared at the gnome, whose graying beard signified him as an elderly one. His oversized clothes were partially burnt and ripped, some of the baggy parts held up by straps of cloth and belts. If one didn¡¯t know better, this gnome would¡¯ve looked to be a lowlife living on the streets of Vindis or Bernis. Still, Seamus knew exactly that this gnome was far from that kind of man since he had known this particular man years ago.

    ¡°Lowe?¡± Seamus asked, his eyes staring down at the disheveled gnome. Lowe¡¯s eyes widened at the sound of his name as realization hit his gaunt face.

    ¡°Seamus? Is it truly you?¡± The gnome asked, stumbling towards the young man. ¡°I thought you had died with your father¡­¡±

    There was confusion and relief audible in his voice. Seamus didn¡¯t know what to say, his mind desperately searching for words. The gnome in front of him was Lowe Arclite, the one who looked out for this island. Seamus¡¯ father had assigned Lowe to run things at Aldren and its ports and keep Yorn¡¯s old vault hidden from prying eyes.

    Seamus himself had met the gnome years ago when he was a child, fearfully clinging to his father for protection. Lowe had been a younger-looking man then, but years later, the gnome looked frail and much older, his black and gray hair signifying this more than anything.

    ¡°What the hel happened?¡± Seamus asked, his eyes focusing on the fresh bandages on Lowe. He could see clearly that the gnome had been through hel, judging by how the man¡¯s eyes were glassy and unfocused.

    ¡°Best if we rest first. I must have some water,¡± the gnome spoke out, licking at his dry and chapped lips.

    Seamus nodded, his hand moving to his waterskin. ¡°Come in then. Tell me everything.¡±

    <hr>

    James could feel his lungs burning, his feet stepping over rocks and raised roots as he ran through the dense forest. He had his arms raised, feeling thin branches and leaves whip against his upper torso and face. He gritted his teeth, squinting as he tried to see where he was going. He could see from his peripherals how Haggard was ahead of him, obviously much fitter than James.

    ¡®When I get back to Yorktown, I¡¯m going to have Harald train me like hell.¡¯

    James knew damn well that he needed to get into much better shape. His lungs were begging for a break, the sharp stabs of the cold air not helping. Still, he couldn¡¯t afford to stop, not when he was sure that those orcs were on their tail. James looked to Haggard up ahead, wanting to call up the man to ask if he knew where he was going. Suddenly, Haggard disappeared, surprising James. Before the young man could wonder what had happened, he felt the ground beneath him disappear, gravity quickly sending him tumbling down a rough slope.

    James felt his weight drag him down the slope, not allowing him to stop. His hands instinctively covered his head as he tried to form his body into a tight ball, his body pelted by rocks and small bushes. He rolled down the steep and snowy hill for a couple more seconds before a snowy bush finally stopped and softened his fall.

    James blinked and felt the uncomfortable sensation of small branches and leaves beneath him, replacing his brief fall and tumble. He slowly uncurled from his protective ball, clenching his fists as the pain finally settled into his body, emanating all around him. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask Haggard if he was alright.

    ¡°Un¡­ Agh¡­¡± was all James could manage out. He opened his eyes, wanting to get a better view of his surroundings. All James could see, however, was the tumbling figure of an armored dwarf.

    ¡°Oof!¡±

    James felt the dwarf impact him, air rushing out of his lungs as Bjorn landed on top.

    ¡°Ugh¡­¡± Bjorn groaned out, dazed. James panted as he rested his head back onto the bush, staring up at the sky. He could feel how his body slowly cooled off from the sudden heat his Carapace spell had emitted during his fall and Bjorn¡¯s impact.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°Thank you, Nathan,¡± James softly muttered, sighing as he rested his aching body.

    ¡®Get up¡­¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice rang out in James¡¯ head. ¡®You probably won¡¯t have much time until they catch up.¡¯ The ethereal voice carried a worried tone.

    James groaned, forcing himself to sit up as he rolled the heavy dwarf off of him. He looked at his surroundings, noting Haggard¡¯s form sticking out of a bush nearby, his hushed cursing audible from where James was.

    ¡°Haggard?¡± James called out, forcing himself to stand as he stumbled his way to the other man. He watched as Haggard slowly emerged from the bush, plucking small thorns from his arms and upper torso.

    ¡°Ugh¡­ What is it?¡± The drifter asked as he stood up again, his face covered in small red cuts and a couple of thorns.

    ¡°Orcs,¡± James panted. He slowly caught his breath as he grabbed at his side. ¡°They¡¯ll be here any second. We need to keep moving.¡±

    ¡°To where?¡± Bjorn groaned out in response to James. Both men turned to look down at the dwarf, who was already getting up, his hand reaching for the brass flask he kept on his belt.

    ¡°The port,¡± James managed out, remembering their fallback. ¡°If everyone else is still out there, they¡¯ll meet us there when they can¡­ We need to head there and¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, we don¡¯t.¡± Bjorn interrupted, scowling as he took a swig from his flask. ¡°If those green idiots are still on our asses, then we cannot return to the ship.¡± the mercenary¡¯s breathing slowly went back to normal as he took another swig, his lips grimacing at the taste of it.

    ¡°What about everyone else?¡± Haggard asked, plucking the last of the thorns from his face.

    ¡°Hopefully, they¡¯re smart enough to know not to regroup at the port until they are sure it is safe,¡± Bjorn answered, holstering the brass container. James frowned as he looked around at their surroundings.

    ¡®Archibald and Edmund shouldn¡¯t be too far¡­ Maybe we can¡­¡¯

    The sound of distant voices interrupted his thoughts, their owners shouting over each other as they grew closer.

    ¡°Damn! Hide!¡± James hissed before moving to the dense forest as the voices slowly increased. All three of the men rushed to hide, either behind a bush or fallen tree. James himself was secluding himself behind some dense bushes, doing his best to get a view of where the voices were coming from.

    Suddenly, Archibald emerged from the treeline above the slope, the elf skidding to a stop right before the steep drop. James could see how the mercenary looked scratched up but relatively fine. He held the urge to call to the elf as more voices sounded out.

    ¡°There he is! Get ''em!¡±

    James could recognize the shouts of the orcs, their heavy rustling through the forest growing louder. Archibald visibly panicked, his feet moving slowly but hastily. He walked down the steep slope, rocks and dirt coming loose as he tried to get down safely. Unfortunately, he would be too late, as two of the ugly bastards emerged from above, one rushing to grab Archibald.

    ¡°Get back, you disgusting mongrels!¡± Archibald shouted suddenly, using his rapier to stab at the orc¡¯s outreaching hand. The green idiot howled in pain, recoiling as it suddenly pierced his hand in the blink of an eye. Oily blood stained his injured hand, but the orc didn¡¯t quit his attempts.

    James could see how Bjorn readied himself as if he was planning to scale the steep slope and gut the orc himself. The blond man caught his attention, shaking his head furiously. The dwarf gritted his teeth, seemingly against the idea of standing by.

    ¡®Don¡¯t,¡¯ James mouthed to the dwarf, hoping Bjorn would get the message. The dwarf shook his head, moving to raise his axe before he paused, the sound of more voices approaching the area. James looked up to see even more of the bastards emerge, all armed and some even wearing armor.

    James didn¡¯t have to be a tactician to know that they were horribly outnumbered. The elf seemed to realize this, his panic setting in as he tried to hurry his way down the slope, using his rapier to fend off as many of the bastards as he could. Unfortunately, he was too slow, and they eventually caught him. The elf¡¯s weapon was forcefully ripped from his hands as he kicked and shouted in an unfamiliar language.

    James watched as Archibald was bound and gagged by the orcs, who were growling at him.

    ¡°Shut it, you little dungheap! We just have to bring you alive, not unscathed!¡± One said.

    ¡°So quit your bitching, or we¡¯ll take those pretty little fingers of yours!¡± Another comment was followed by some excited murmurs from the other orcs.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t we just do it, anyway? I¡¯ve been starving for some actual flesh for months!¡±

    ¡°Yeah! Be better than all that crap back at the main camp.¡±

    ¡°Eh, but he¡¯s an elf. Not very tasty. Too stringy and lean.¡±

    ¡°Ah, but what about that human we caught earlier? He seems ripe for the picking!¡±

    ¡°Yes! Be perfect for stew and roast that one!¡±

    They all seemed to overlap with their suggestions. Archibald struggled even harder as he yelled through his gag, his voice coming out muffled and panicked. Then, the orc who was tying up the elf shouted, his voice shutting them all up.

    ¡°Quiet! You¡¯re all making me hungry! We take them both to Blood-Irk and hope he lets us eat them after he¡¯s done,¡± the orc stated. He slung Archibald over his shoulder as if the elf were a potato sack. The other orcs groaned but didn¡¯t complain.

    ¡°What about the ones who got away?¡± One of them asked as they all retreated into the forest.

    ¡°We deal with them later. For now, we must get back with what we have. Not much time left to waste,¡± One answered, his voice growing distant.

    James slowly stood, his hand clenched around his short sword¡¯s hilt.

    ¡°The hell was that?¡± Haggard asked, emerging from behind a tree.

    ¡°A reason to follow them to their main camp,¡± James answered. He checked his sword as he sheathed and unsheathed it, making sure it slid in and out easily.

    ¡°Follow them?¡± Haggard asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Why not free the two now and get the hell out of here?¡± Haggard added as he followed James, who was climbing up the slope.

    ¡°Because those damned orcs have other prisoners over there,¡± James answered simply. He checked to ensure a spot on the slope was sturdy enough before resting his weight on it.

    ¡°So we¡¯re going to save them?¡± Bjorn asked, the dwarf¡¯s voice grunting with effort as he climbed the slope below James.

    ¡°Of course we are,¡± James answered, lifting himself up on the slope¡¯s edge. He turned to Haggard, giving the man a hand as he pulled with all his strength and weight. ¡°Do you have a problem with that, Bjorn?¡± James asked as he watched the dwarf approach on the steep slope. Bjorn shook his head, a small grin forming on his face as James reached down with Haggard to grab the dwarf¡¯s arms, pulling him up.

    ¡°Nah, it just gives me more reasons to fight,¡± Bjorn answered as he was hefted up. James grinned back, patting himself down as he pulled his wool hat down on his head.

    ¡°Good, because I have a feeling there¡¯s going to be a lot of that today¡­¡±

    <hr>

    Seamus held back a wince as he felt Miles clean his head wound, his eyes glancing up at the mercenary before moving back to Lowe, who was still telling his story.

    ¡°I hid in that town for a couple of days. Scavenged for food and made sure those orc bastards couldn¡¯t catch me¡­ Until today.¡± The gnome had a grim look on his face as he looked towards his bandaged arm. ¡°Brutes burned it all down, almost killed me.¡± Lowe looked down at Seamus¡¯ waterskin, his small, dirty hands shaking as he brought it above his lips, letting the water flow out into his open mouth. Seamus frowned as he felt Miles wrap a bandage around his forehead. The ex-follower had been quiet throughout the entire time, most possibly listening to the gnome¡¯s story.

    ¡°What are they looking for?¡± Seamus asked, remembering what the orcs had said about needing them alive. He had a couple of guesses but wanted to be sure.

    Lowe scowled, closing his eyes as he clenched onto the waterskin. ¡°They¡¯ve been searching for the old vault, the one your father left behind when he still hid his wealth here.¡±

    ¡°His father?¡± Miles interrupted, already done with his bandaging. ¡°As in¡­ Yorn?¡± Seamus felt a cold, electric-like shiver run through his spine, causing him to wince as he realized what Lowe had done. He turned to Miles, who was sitting down now, his masked face staring at the young man. Despite not being able to see Miles¡¯ facial expression, Seamus was almost certain that the mercenary was grinning in amusement.

    ¡°It¡¯s a¡­ difficult story,¡± Seamus explained, unsure if Miles had put the pieces together yet.

    ¡°I bet it¡¯s a pretty interesting one,¡± commented the follower, his hands packing up his medical supplies.

    Seamus sighed. ¡°If we get out of this, I¡¯ll be sure to tell you the full story¡­ as of now¡ª¡±

    ¡°We need to get to that vault!¡± Lowe interrupted, not seeming to care about what the two were talking about. He seemed to regain some of his vigor from the water, his eyes sparking with energy as he looked at Seamus.

    ¡°What?¡± Seamus asked, confused.

    ¡°The vault. We need to find it before those green-skinned bastards do,¡± Lowe explained as he stood up.

    ¡°Wait, we¡¯re separated from the others. We need to find them,¡± Seamus protested as he stood, taking his waterskin back as he did so.

    ¡°That fellow you¡¯ve been following, the one leading you all. Is he a capable leader?¡± The gnome asked, looking up at Seamus.

    ¡°James?¡± Seamus questioned. He pondered momentarily but stopped when he saw Lowe limping towards the den¡¯s entrance. ¡°Hey!¡± Seamus called, stopping the gnome. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure he¡¯s capable, but I think it would be best if we¡ª¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled. He can take care of himself and the rest of your friends. We need to get to the vault now!¡± Lowe was adamant, tugging Seamus aside as Miles and the strange woman watched.

    ¡°What? Why?¡± Seamus asked, digging his heels into the ground as the gnome pulled his arm. ¡°The vault was cleared years ago. What value does it have?¡± The young man asked, furrowing his brow. Lowe stopped at that, his head turning back to Seamus to show a worried expression.

    ¡°Not everything was taken out of it,¡± Lowe revealed. ¡°In that vault lies a very important artifact. One that these orcs shouldn¡¯t have,¡± the gnome muttered. Seamus could see the desperation in Lowe¡¯s eyes as he spoke, a slight tremble in his words.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Seamus asked. Lowe opened his mouth, ready to explain himself. Unfortunately, the gnome held himself back, shaking his head as he pulled away from Seamus.

    ¡°I can¡¯t explain it all to you, not now. We need to get to that vault as soon as possible,¡± Lowe explained, forcing his feet to move as he headed to the entrance of the den.

    ¡°Hey! Wait!¡± Seamus called out behind Lowe, moving to stop the injured gnome from leaving.

    ¡°There is no time to waste! We must head quickly to the vault¡¯s entrance! Before those brutes find it!¡± The injured gnome was already out of the den by the time Seamus reached him, small flakes of snow falling from the partially cloudy sky.

    ¡°Lowe, we can¡¯t just go on this wild chase if we don¡¯t know what we¡¯re dealing with!¡± This time, Seamus held onto Lowe¡¯s arm, keeping the gnome in place. Lowe struggled but quickly gave up, obviously realizing it was pointless.

    ¡°This is something that not even you should know,¡± Lowe said softly, looking at the young man with determined eyes. ¡°This is something that must be done. It does not matter what you want, young Halvorson. What matters needs to be done. And what needs to be done is to keep this artifact from orc hands,¡± the gnome explained.

    Seamus blinked, stunned by the elderly gnome¡¯s words, so much so that Lowe was able to break from his hold. The young man watched the gnome limp off, who winced now and then as he slowly made his way. Despite the gnome¡¯s insistence on going to the vault, he was far from being physically able to, judging from all the wounds that Seamus could see.

    ¡°You won¡¯t be able to get far,¡± Miles pointed out, catching Seamus¡¯ attention. Miles and the berserker woman were outside the den, who hung back to watch the spectacle with curious eyes. ¡°Just because I patched you up doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re invincible.¡± The ex-follower stepped up to the gnome, kneeling down next to Lowe. ¡°You¡¯ve even reopened one of your wounds,¡± Miles pointed out, his fingers poking at a reddening spot on Lowe¡¯s bandages.

    Lowe swatted the mercenary¡¯s hand, scowling and wincing. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. What¡¯s important is the¡ª¡±

    ¡°Vault, yes, we heard you,¡± Miles interrupted, sighing. ¡°Let¡¯s look at it this way, say we go with you on this quest. You have two choices. You can either go out of your way to lead us to the hidden vault right now without treating your wounds. Not only will you die on the way there, but you¡¯ll leave the two of us lost in the middle of the island, with no way of knowing where the vault is or how we open it," Miles explained, already moving to grab at the satchel that hung near his belt.

    ¡°Or I will help bandage you up and carry you on my back like last time. That way, you can be safe, and we¡¯ll be able to find the vault with your guidance. Which choice do you want to make?¡± Miles asked, tilting his head as he brought out a copper vial and a roll of bandages. Lowe seemed to hesitate, his teeth gritted as he shook his head.

    ¡°Fine. The second choice.

 B.2 Chapter 28: The Camp

    James was initially worried that he wouldn¡¯t be able to keep track of the orcs who were holding his companions prisoner, but he soon realized that the orcs were not known for their subtlety.

    ¡°Fuck off, you areshole, no touching the meat!¡± A nasal voice sounded out through the trees, reaching James¡¯ ears as he crept along the bushes. He didn¡¯t have to peek over the bush to know that the two orcs carrying Archibald and Edmund were arguing once more about their ¡®food.¡¯

    ¡°Just a nibble! I bet Blood-Irk wouldn¡¯t mind a couple of fingers or ears missing,¡± the orc protested.

    ¡°Quiet, dumbass!¡± The smart one shouted, thankfully dispelling any attempts at eating the two mercenaries, both of whom they tied up and carried in a crude cage cart. ¡°If we take them both back to camp in one piece, we can be Lieutenants!¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s so important about being an uh¡­ Loo tent ant?¡± The hungry one questioned.

    ¡°Lieutenant stupid! And it¡¯s a big deal! We get the best armor, axes, and the most food.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­ can I still use my big club? I care little for shiny axes.¡±

    ¡°You dolt, are you dense? Why would you want to keep using that useless thing?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know! It¡¯s just so comfy to swing around and to hold¡­¡±

    ¡°Idiots. I¡¯m working with idiots.¡±

    James peaked over the bush, watching the two orcs argue as they pulled their cart along. The young man turned his attention to the two prisoners, one of them still moving around as he struggled with his bindings. James and Edmund made eye contact. Edmund¡¯s eyes widened as he noticed James. The young blond man brought a finger to his lips, ensuring Edmund knew to stay quiet.

    I¡¯ll get you out of there as soon as I can, James mouthed to the mercenary, hoping that Edmund would understand. The bound and gagged man stopped struggling for a moment, looking frustrated with James¡¯ calmness. He soon relaxed, sighing as he furrowed his brow. Something told James that the mercenary was more than a little disappointed at his delayed rescue but was smart enough not to make a scene over it. James nodded to Edmund before he disappeared into the greenery. He turned over to Haggard, who was hiding behind a thick vern tree with Bjorn.

    They had been following the two orcs for a while now, hiding in the nearby forest as the orcs made their way back to their base camp, where most of their prisoners were supposed to be.

    ¡®What are the chances that most of those prisoners are butchered meat?¡¯ Faust asked, his question sending chills down James¡¯ spine.

    ¡®Let¡¯s not think about the worst-case scenario just yet,¡¯ the mortal man answered back.

    James did his best to ease quietly through the forest. He was slowly going mad with the difficulty of moving through a forest quietly, in partial armor, with gear, and with fucking snow crunching beneath his boots. He gritted his teeth as he stepped on a particularly crunchy set of twigs, his fists clenching as he expected any of the two orcs to shout and charge at him and his group. Nothing. James sighed a breath of relief.

    ¡®Either I¡¯m lucky, or those orcs are really hard of hearing.¡¯

    James watched as Haggard and Bjorn continued on, unaware of the noise or seemingly not caring.

    ¡®Probably the latter. Orcs are quite stupid,¡¯ Faust commented.

    James held back a chuckle at that, shaking his head as he continued on.

    ¡®Still, do not underestimate them, James. I¡¯ve seen what these bastards could do.¡¯ Faust pointed out.

    ¡®Have you ever experienced fighting them?¡¯ James asked the spirit, peeking out to make sure the two orcs were in sight.

    ¡®Let¡¯s just say I had more than my fair share of fighting these brutes. Despite their stupidity, they¡¯re efficient, cunning when needed, and more than merciless to those who aren¡¯t them.¡¯ Faust sounded a bit disgusted, as if his mouth had a nasty taste.

    ¡®The hell happened in your past?¡¯ James asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡®I don¡¯t fully know. A lot of things, I think. I even recovered more of my memories earlier today, back when you interrogated that orc.¡¯

    James blinked at that, remembering how his anger had flared during that time.

    ¡®What kind of memories?¡¯ James cautiously asked, a feeling of dread forming in his chest. Before the spirit could answer, his eyes caught something.

    ¡°What the?¡± James stopped his move through the forest.

    He could see pillars of smoke in the sky, but nothing like back in Aldren.

    ¡®Campfires.¡¯

    James looked up ahead. He could see Haggard and Bjorn hiding behind some trees, their focus on something other than the orcs they were following. James moved to their position, wondering what they were looking at.

    ¡°Is this their¡ª?¡± James felt his words stop in his throat at the sight before him.

    It was like what James had assumed, the base camp of those orcs. He could see many tents and campfires littered next to stumps. Despite that, some vern trees stood around with visible cuts on their bark. There seemed to be some large pots boiling over some campfires, orcs crowding around them as they ate. There was even a harbor plagued with five longships, one of which looked like the opposite halves of two ships that were nailed and put together. It all looked savage and primal, down to their shoddy craftsmanship and scavenged parts.

    Still, that wasn¡¯t the first thing that caught James¡¯ attention. No, it was something that was sure to keep the young man void of any sleep for the following weeks. James had no words as he looked at the shoddy, small palisade surrounding the camp. Decorating the bloodstained walls were pikes that held what looked to be the rotting and ripped bodies of the orc¡¯s victims. Or ¡®meals¡¯ as James realized, the horrifying idea dawning on him.

    Humans, gnomes, dwarves. Almost all the bodies seem to have lost most of their meat and skin, leaving red muscles and bone exposed as black ravens picked at them. They were barely recognizable as people. James instinctively heaved, his eyes finally breaking away from the horrific sight.

    ¡°Hugh¡­ Ugh,¡± James managed out, holding his stomach and mouth as he tried to keep it all in. He could feel a pat on his back, a voice speaking out.

    ¡°Never seen an orc camp before, huh? Yeah¡­ It¡¯s a rough sight the first time you come upon one,¡± Haggard muttered. James slowly held the contents of his stomach down, his jaw clenching as he looked up at the two men. Even Haggard looked sympathetic, as if he knew exactly what James was going through. Bjorn was watching the camp, a look of grim seriousness on his face. He no longer looked joyful or excited.

    ¡°Where are Archibald and Edmund?¡± James suddenly realized, panic settling in as he realized what fate he might¡¯ve doomed upon the two mercenaries.

    ¡°They¡¯re still being carried by those two idiots. It seems like they¡¯re taking them to their prison,¡± Bjorn answered. ¡°They¡¯ll be fine for now,¡± he assured James.

    ¡°This makes no sense,¡± James started, shaking his head. ¡°Those orcs said they want their prisoners alive for their leader.¡±

    Bjorn shrugged at that, looking back at the camp as James stood back up. ¡°Maybe those are the people who kept resisting,¡± the dwarf answered. ¡°Or maybe¡­ Their leader got what he wanted.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Are you even sure the orcs know where the vault is?¡± Seamus asked Lowe, watching as the gnome broke the wax seal on the copper vial.

    ¡°It¡¯s only a matter of time,¡± Lowe answered, looking down at the potion in his hand. ¡°They¡¯ve captured damn near everyone on this island. I doubt there¡¯s anyone left out there,¡± he muttered before he drank the vitality potion. The gnome grimaced at the taste, shuddering as he downed it all. ¡°Ugh¡­ It¡¯s only a matter of time before those damned brutes get their answers,¡± Lowe commented, giving the empty vial back to Miles, who pocketed it.

    ¡°Alright then, are we ready to go out now?¡± Lowe asked, standing up with his newly wrapped bandages.

    ¡°I guess so¡­¡± Seamus looked at Miles, who shrugged as he stood up.

    ¡°I¡¯m not one to deny the promise of adventure,¡± he commented behind his grinning mask.

    ¡°What about her?¡± Lowe pointed out, gesturing to the group¡¯s oddball.

    They all turned to look at the berserker woman, who had been watching them with curious eyes. Now that everyone was looking at her, however, she quickly changed her expression, scowling as she slowly backed away.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Friend of yours, Seamus?¡± Miles asked, catching the young man¡¯s attention. Seamus turned to Miles, frowning a little.

    ¡°I¡¯m not really sure. She saved me but doesn¡¯t seem to want to communicate¡­ or maybe she can¡¯t.¡± Seamus shrugged before looking down at the gnome.

    ¡°Lowe, do you know who she is?¡±

    ¡°I might have an idea,¡± Lowe answered, rubbing his beard. ¡°But we should really get moving.¡± He grumbled, looking up at Seamus. ¡°Daylight is burning, and by nightfall, we won¡¯t be able to navigate through the dark, let alone survive the cold.¡±

    ¡°What do you suggest we do?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°Either convince her to come or leave her here. Either way, we need to get moving now.¡±

    Seamus frowned at that but didn¡¯t argue with the gnome. He looked at Miles, who was trying his best to approach the berserker. Unfortunately for him, the strange and violent woman was not having it. She audibly growled at Miles, her hands reaching behind her waist. Miles quickly backed off, avoiding a lightning-fast strike from her ax. Seamus watched as the berserker prepared to attack Miles once more, both of her axes out.

    ¡°Hey, hey!¡± Seamus called out, stepping in between the two. As he expected, the berserker immediately backed down; her hostile demeanor suddenly dulled to visible discomfort.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Miles muttered behind Seamus. The berserker scowled at Seamus but didn¡¯t attack as she holstered her axes.

    ¡°Can you talk?¡± Seamus asked, wondering if the woman could speak at all.

    ¡®Wouldn¡¯t hurt to try¡­¡¯

    The woman raised an eyebrow at that, standing up fully as she stared at Seamus.

    ¡°Can you speak? Communicate? Say anything?¡± Seamus tried once more. The red-haired woman looked to understand his words but didn¡¯t seem to want to talk. Just as Seamus was sure there was no way of communicating, the woman raised a hand in front of her, her fingers forming a sign. Seamus almost jumped at the sight, positive that he had stumbled upon some weird outback shaman with the capabilities of casting magic. But no fiery vengeance came upon the young man, which left him confused. The woman formed another symbol, this one pointing towards herself.

    Seamus blinked, recognizing what she was doing.

    ¡°Sign speaking,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°What?¡± Miles asked behind him. Seamus ignored the mercenary.

    ¡°Do you communicate with hand signs?¡± The young man asked the woman, who nodded in response.

    ¡°Do you have a name?¡± Seamus asked, wondering if she even had one. The berserker seemed to hesitate, but her hands moved nonetheless, forming signs with her fingers. Seamus looked down at the signs she was forming, squinting as he tried to read them.

    ¡°Lilith,¡± Seamus muttered, raising an eyebrow. He looked at the strange woman in front of him, the same one who had butchered and brutalized orcs with little of a second thought. The same woman who had gutted an orc in front of him was named after a dainty little flower. Seamus was about to wonder if he had read the signs wrong before Miles spoke up.

    ¡°You can understand those signs?¡± asked the mercenary, catching Seamus¡¯ attention.

    ¡°To some extent,¡± Seamus answered. ¡°But it¡¯s strange¡­ Only a few people I knew used hand signs like her.¡±

    ¡°That explains why I couldn¡¯t read them,¡± Miles added. ¡°Where did you learn those signs?¡± The ex-follower asked. Seamus frowned at that, looking back at the woman named Lilith as she went back to watching the three with curious glances.

    ¡°My mother taught me¡­ A long time ago,¡± Seamus muttered under his breath.

    ¡®That red hair.¡¯

    Seamus gritted his teeth, still unable to get the unique colored hair out of his mind. He shook it to the back of his mind, deciding to dwell on it later as he stepped up to Lilith.

    ¡®Let¡¯s see if I can still sign.¡¯

    Seamus raised both hands, doing his best to form the appropriate signs as he spoke.

    ¡°Will you come with us?¡± He asked, his fingers forming the signs. Lilith tilted her head at that, furrowing her brow as she raised her hands and signed back to Seamus.

    How come?

    He sighed, moving to sign back as he spoke.

    ¡°We need help to get to a place.¡±

    Why?

    ¡°There are¡­¡±

    Seamus sighed in frustration, trying to find the correct sign to describe an orc.

    ¡°Green bastards around there?¡±

    Seamus had barely signed those words when he noticed a spark in Lilith¡¯s eyes, her hands excitedly signing back.

    Yes.

    <hr>

    James took a swig from his waterskin, which was filled with the horcus tea Dahlia had brewed that morning. He made a face as the taste reached his tongue, the tea¡¯s harsh flavor not doing his queasy stomach any good. The warm feeling of the horcus tea¡¯s effects was slow but inviting to the young man, who was still recovering from his last scuffle with the orcs. James rubbed at his torso, specifically at the spot where that orc¡¯s club had hit him. His Carapace spell had absorbed most of the damage, possibly even saving his ribs. Still, James didn¡¯t come out unscathed. Only after his adrenaline rush was over did he feel the after-effects of his brief fight in the clearing.

    ¡°Are you fit to fight?¡± Haggard asked, catching the young man¡¯s attention. James looked up at Haggard, who was leaning against a vern tree.

    ¡°Probably,¡± James answered with a shrug. ¡°I still don¡¯t even know how to fight properly.¡± He added honestly, looking down at his sheathed short sword. ¡°The only training I¡¯ve gotten was from Harald, and even then, I only learned the bare minimum.¡±

    ¡°For now, the bare minimum will do,¡± Bjorn muttered, tapping his ax as he sat across from the young man.

    James nodded at that, his eyes looking down at the crudely drawn plan traced on the dirt before him. ¡°How many castings does everyone have?¡±

    ¡°I have three castings left for the day,¡± Bjorn said before he looked up at everyone else.

    ¡°Four,¡± Haggard answered before his eyes turned to James.

    ¡°I already used up my only one,¡± James revealed, scratching at his beard. ¡°My Carapace spell is still active for the next couple of hours until it runs its course.¡±

    ¡°Then we should make it quick, especially since nightfall is soon approaching,¡± the dwarf commented. He stood up before he headed toward the camp¡¯s palisade. James moved to follow Bjorn¡¯s example, his eyes looking up at the partially clouded sky. It was slowly growing dimmer, the blue sky losing its bright color in favor of the orange hue of a nearing sunset.

    ¡°Yeah, running in a dark forest after we pull this off won¡¯t be ideal,¡± James muttered to himself. He turned back to Haggard. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯ll be able to handle yourself?¡± he asked, knowing that Haggard was going to be on his own once they entered the camp.

    Haggard chuckled at that, shaking his head. ¡°Believe me, James. I¡¯m more capable than I let on.¡±

    The older man headed off to follow the dwarf, leaving James to look down at the dirt ground where Bjorn had drawn their ¡®tactical¡¯ infiltration plan. Even when James was paying attention, he still had no damn idea what the crude tracings represented. Still, the young man knew the game plan, even if a buzzed dwarf explained it all.

    ¡®It all boils down to a very simple goal. Free the prisoners and burn the camp to the damn ground.¡¯

    James hurried to meet up with the other two men by the palisade while also being careful enough not to be spotted by the orcs standing watch by their crudely crafted gate. He took the most care in not looking up for fear he would catch another glance at the dead, naked bodies of those who were unfortunate enough to be captured.

    ¡®Bastards, all of them.¡¯

    The thought crossed in the young man¡¯s mind, his anger almost overflowing. James shook that thought out of his mind, feeling Faust¡¯s spirit burn up again. That was not his thought, at least, not entirely.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± James muttered, putting a hand to his head as he reached the two men.

    ¡°Are you alright, James?¡± Bjorn asked as he strapped a shield to his left.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± James waved off.

    ¡®Damnit, Faust. What the hell is happening?¡¯ James called out to the spirit.

    ¡®Sorry. I can¡¯t control my emotions. I don¡¯t know the memory that¡¯s causing it, but it must be a strong one. We should hurry before we pass out like last time.¡¯ Faust sounded as if he was struggling between blind anger and calmness, the two states of mind clashing and struggling in his voice.

    ¡°James, come on!¡± The dwarf¡¯s hissing voice caught the young man¡¯s attention, making James focus on the two men as they hurried along the wall.

    ¡®Alright. I¡¯ll try to hurry,¡¯ James assured the spirit before he moved to follow Bjorn and Haggard. The trio only had to walk for a minute before they came across a shoddy part of the palisade, the crude craftsmanship of the orcs making it stand out like a sore thumb. Bjorn only had to kick at a certain spot on one log to make it come loose, forming an A-shaped entrance in the wall.

    ¡°We know where we¡¯re all going, yes?¡± The dwarf asked, looking over at James and Haggard.

    ¡°I go to the northern part of the camp, make some noise, and burn a couple of tents,¡± Haggard answered.

    Bjorn frowned at that. ¡°It¡¯s a bit more complicated than that¡­ but I¡¯ll take it as a yes. James?¡±

    ¡°We head to where the prisoners are being kept, free them, wait for Haggard¡¯s distraction to work, and then we get the hell out while burning a couple of tents on the way.¡± James was obviously abridging the full plan, but it seemed to work for the dwarf.

    ¡°Good, then let¡¯s get on our way.¡±

    The three men slowly entered the camp one by one, with Bjorn being the ¡®sacrificial lamb¡¯, as he was the first to go through and look out for any orcs. Haggard was second, and soon, James himself entered the encampment of filth and degeneracy. While both Bjorn and Haggard seemed to have no problems entering, James¡¯ first reaction at coming into the camp was to gag. The young man was already aware of the stench the place emitted outside the walls. Still, he had seriously underestimated how strong it really was.

    ¡°Agh,¡± James spat out, quickly covering his nose and mouth with a gloved hand.

    Bjorn looked at James with a raised eyebrow. ¡°If you think the smell is unbearable now, then you should probably stay behind.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± James responded, raising a dismissive hand as he examined their surroundings. The camp was as he expected, with shoddy tents and strange totems nearly everywhere he turned. There were still a couple of vern trees around, for obvious reasons. Still, James was surprised at how much of the forest¡¯s influence was still around, with tall grass and shrubbery surrounding some tents and paths nearby.

    ¡°Which way, Bjorn?¡± James asked, turning back to the dwarf.

    ¡°I saw those two bumbling orcs take the two dolts to a large tent east of here. Should be their prison, I suppose,¡± Bjorn answered.

    ¡°Alright, do you know where you need to get to, Haggard?¡± James asked. He turned to see the older man heading north of the camp, his back turning to James and Bjorn.

    ¡°I will be fine, friend James,¡± Haggard called back, his hand waving dismissively as he walked.

    ¡°Just make sure you don¡¯t get yourself killed. Or worse.¡± James shivered, resisting the urge to look up again.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get going, James,¡± Bjorn¡¯s voice caught his attention, making the young man turn to see the dwarf adjusting the shield on his left.

    James nodded, his hand resting on his short sword''s pommel. ¡°Let¡¯s get going.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 29: The Orc

    Seamus looked up at the dimming sky, frowning as he watched snowflakes passively float from the clouds above. He shivered, ensuring his scarf was snugly fitted around his neck and mouth.

    ¡°It¡¯s only going to get colder,¡± Lowe¡¯s voice sounded out, catching Seamus¡¯ focus of attention. He looked at the gnome holding onto Miles¡¯ shoulders. Lowe had his feet positioned at the edges and straps of the mercenary¡¯s armor like he was using a horse¡¯s stirrups. He obviously looked unhappy with the embarrassing way of travel, but Miles insisted on it this way. Lowe wouldn¡¯t have been able to walk very far without worsening his wounds.

    ¡°I know,¡± Seamus responded to the gnome, his eyes moving to look at the path they were walking on. Lowe¡¯s words weren¡¯t supposed to be a mild observation but a dangerous reminder. It was well-known that nights in Northern Valenfrost were a hazardous danger, especially during Frost. While there was no danger south, mainly around Yorktown and Vindis, the island they were on currently bordered Northern Valenfrost. This made them susceptible to the dangerous cold.

    ¡®Wait¡­¡¯

    Seamus furrowed his brow, his head swiveling to look at the berserker woman behind him. She was far back, still keeping her distance from everyone else. She wore warm-looking clothing, even wearing that fur cloak she had tied to her waist earlier. Still, Seamus wondered if it would be enough to keep her from freezing to death during the unforgiving nights of Frost.

    Seamus was almost curious enough to ask but knew his signing needed some work before he could ask her any more questions. He was still rusty, it seemed, which was understandable. The berserker¡¯s way of signing was something that Seamus never saw outside of his mother and a select few. He himself was one of those select few, but even then, Seamus had difficulty remembering the proper signs and gestures.

    ¡®Where¡¯d she learn such a thing?¡¯

    Seamus wondered for a bit before his focus returned to their path. He could hear the distant sound of a beach, the sound of waves washing up on gravel, and music to his ears. It was a fond sound that reminded him of an older, simpler life.

    ¡°Up ahead,¡± Lowe spoke, his breath coming out in a cloudy puff.

    Seamus squinted through the trees up ahead, their greenish foliage obscuring whatever was ahead. He would soon find out, as he pushed through, the group following behind. Seamus raised an arm as he protected himself from the falling snow of the branches, his eyes peering at what was past the trees. He blinked, finding himself standing atop a small dirt cliff, the drop-off leading to a gravel beach. Seamus noted the nearby large rocks that bordered the beach, as well as a¡ª

    Seamus felt his cloak turn tight around his neck as he yanked back into the trees. He fell onto his ass, snow falling around him. He cursed silently, his eyes opening to search for whoever had pulled him. His voice died in his throat when he saw the grinning mask of the ex-chaos follower, a single gloved finger held to his wide smile.

    ¡°No loud noises,¡± Miles softly spoke, his head slowly nodding to the beach ahead. Seamus slowly turned to where the mercenary was gesturing, his eyes widening as he spotted the familiar shapes of lumbering orcs through the branches. Seamus almost smacked his forehead in shame. How could he have missed those oafs roaming around?

    ¡°Why are they here?¡± Seamus whispered quietly, moving to peer through the branches much more clearly. He could see that there were eight of them, all of them with decent armor if it could be called that. It looked more like pieces of iron and wood bound together with leather straps and good hopes. Seamus could even spot some other creatures, smaller than the orcs who paraded around the beach.

    ¡®Goblins.¡¯

    Seamus recognized their lanky bodies under their custom-made armor that hid their recognizable heads and faces.

    ¡°Someone must¡¯ve talked,¡± Lowe muttered in realization. Seamus looked back at the gnome, noticing how pale the man had gotten. He was about to ask if Lowe needed some water for his nerves but noticed how Lilith, the berserker woman, approached the trees. Her eyes glinted with a bloodthirst that Seamus quickly recognized. He quickly held out his hands, forming the signs necessary to stop her.

    ¡®No No No. Please do not fight.¡¯

    Seamus did his best to discourage Lilith, hoping to all the gods that she would hold back her bloodthirst for once. While she seemed a capable fighter, Seamus couldn¡¯t ignore that they probably wouldn¡¯t survive another encounter with the well-armed orcs. The clearing attack only worked for the crazed woman because it had caused chaos among the captured men and the orcs, making it a confusing and chaotic battle. Thankfully for Seamus, Lilith understood his gestures, her eyes losing their dangerous glint.

    ¡°Good,¡± Seamus sighed a breath of relief. ¡°Can we still get to the vault before the orcs do?¡± he asked, turning to the gnome beside him.

    ¡°Yes, of course.¡± Lowe shivered, his eyes squinting through the foliage. ¡°It seems like these idiots only know the area, not the means of entering it.¡±

    ¡®Good. Then we can still get to the vault.¡¯

    Seamus watched as the orcs kicked dirt and gravel around, moving huge rocks around as they searched the beach and treeline. Thankfully for Seamus and his group, the orcs were a suitable distance away from their hiding spot.

    ¡°Where is the vault?¡± Miles spoke, his gloved hand pulling down a branch.

    ¡°In one of the dirt cliffs¡­ There¡¯s a hidden entrance,¡± Lowe answered, his small hand running through his gray beard. ¡°We should be able to reach it without those brutes seeing us.¡± The gnome gestured towards their left, away from the direction of the orcs.

    Seamus took a breath of the frosty air before finally sighing.

    ¡°Alright then. Let¡¯s not waste any more time.¡±

    <hr>

    James cursed under his breath as he dropped behind a stump, hoping to any god who listened that he wouldn¡¯t be spotted. He heard the large footsteps of orcs walking in the distance, accompanied by the rattling of chainmail and loose pieces of armor. James could hear them grunt at each other, talking about something related to food.

    ¡°How much longer till we can eat the rest of those, uh¡­ prisoners?¡±

    ¡°Not sure. Maybe soon? Blood-Irk did let us have some early. Some of them made for some tasty stew in the camps.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t like stew. Maybe he let us eat those new prisoners?¡±

    ¡°That elf and human? Mmm, maybe. I would like to roast them up on a spit.¡±

    Their conversation slowly grew distant, and before long, they left. Leaving James with a queasy stomach and an urge to gag.

    ¡°We should hurry,¡± James muttered, looking over at the nearby cluster of tall grass.

    ¡°Then let us be on our way,¡± Bjorn¡¯s voice spoke out, the dwarf emerging just a second later. Both men continued their trek, sneaking behind the tents that were at the edge of the orc¡¯s encampment. They were growing near the port where the prisoner¡¯s tents were supposedly at.

    James could swear he could hear screams in the distance, in the direction of the smaller camps the orc had previously mentioned. Still, Bjorn had dismissed those worries, explaining that it was simply a trick on his ears.

    ¡®I really hope it is¡­¡¯

    James frowned as he peered out from under a scarred vern tree. He could see the port from a short distance, the orc¡¯s longships floating passively through the waters. James surveyed the area some more, his eyes spotting a large tent. He squinted at the two orcs nearby, recognizing one of them as one of the pair escorting Edmund and Archibald. He then noticed two small armored creatures by the orcs, their helmets shaped like a bird¡¯s skull.

    ¡°Goblins,¡± James muttered, watching the two small creatures poke at each other with their spears, laughing about something. ¡°Is that the tent?¡± James asked in a low voice, looking back to see Bjorn catch up to him. The dwarf peeked from the same spot as James, his eyes narrowing.

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s where those brutes took the kid and that elf. Uh¡­ Edward and Arcibland, right?¡± Bjorn asked.

    ¡°Edmund and Archibald,¡± James corrected, raising an eyebrow as he looked down at Bjorn.

    ¡°Eh, same thing.¡± The dwarf shrugged, his hand moving to grab his ax. ¡°So, how are we going to take them out?¡± James muttered, looking back at the two orcs and goblins, who seemed to be the only things standing between the prisoners and the two men.

    ¡°I got this,¡± Bjorn simply said, rotating an arm as he stepped up. ¡°Just hide nearby and¡ª¡± Before the dwarf could finish, a loud explosion sounded out from north of the encampment, causing the ground to vibrate a little.

    James turned to the source of the loud boom, his eyes focusing on the rising pile of black smoke, its darkness making it stand out in the orange-tinted sky.

    ¡°Oh right,¡± Bjorn muttered. James turned to see both orcs and goblins run off in a panic, shouting out to their brethren as they hurried off, more orcs joining up with them as they ran.

    ¡°Haggard,¡± James added with a grin.

    ¡®Caelus¡¯ balls¡­ Do you think Haggard survived that?¡¯ Faust asked, his voice sounding genuinely worried.

    ¡®He¡¯ll be fine,¡¯ James assured the spirit.

    ¡°That crazy bastard,¡± Bjorn chuckled. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get on to freeing our boys, eh? We don¡¯t have long.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡±

    Both the young man and dwarf mercenary made their move, hurrying to the tent ahead.

    Once James entered through the flaps of canvas, the smell hit him. The inside of the tent stank of a disgusting stench, which stunned the young man for a solid couple of seconds. The interior was unmistakably foul, unbearably humid, and, unfortunately for James, too dim for him to see the orc currently swinging a rusted ax.

    James felt someone shove him to the ground, just in time for him to watch as the axe-head missed the spot his head occupied a second earlier.

    ¡°What the fuck?!¡± James cursed instinctually, his eyes widening as he reached for his sword. He watched as Bjorn blocked a second swing from the orc guard, his shield sparking as the rusted ax made contact.

    The orc roared, moving to take another swing. ¡°Tear you to shreds, I will! Dwarf stew I¡¯ll make of you!¡± The brute shouted, his swing coming down a second later. Bjorn dodged it, his demeanor calm and his face maintaining its composure as the orc¡¯s ax struck the compacted ground. Bjorn prepared his counterattack immediately after, his ax swing aimed at the orc¡¯s exposed head, which had lowered during his initial swing at Bjorn.

    ¡°Power Strike,¡± the dwarf chanted out, his ax¡¯s edge gaining a red hue as the rest of his body radiated with heat like a furnace. The ax tore through the orc¡¯s skull like a melon, splitting it open as oily blood splattered over the once clean ax and the dwarf who held it.

    James watched as the orc instantly slumped over before his body fell to the side. The young man had barely gotten his sword out, his eyes fixated on the scene that had played out in front of him. Bjorn sighed, holstering his ax as he stepped away from the growing pool of dirt-infused blood.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Would¡¯ve liked to entertain him for longer, maybe save my castings, but we¡¯re on a tight schedule,¡± the dwarf grumbled.

    ¡°Got it,¡± James mumbled, staring at the grizzly scene.

    ¡°Who are you, people?¡± A soft-spoken but deep voice rang out in the dim light of the tent, catching James and Bjorn¡¯s attention.

    James turned to the source, frowning as he forced his eyes to squint through the weak light that shone through the tatters of the tent. There was an assortment of cages, all varying in material and size. James¡¯ eyes widened as he saw the blood that stained the bars and ground, some of it seeming newer than most. There seemed to be people in the cages, most of them either asleep or passed out. Well, until one saw James and Bjorn.

    ¡°Hey¡­ Hey!¡± one prisoner shouted, a blond man with a recent scar over his face.

    ¡°People! Oh, gods help us!¡± another shouted, this one a gnome with a makeshift eyepatch. This started a chain reaction within the prisoners, leading to them shouting out to James and Bjorn.

    ¡°Alright, alright! Calm down!¡± Bjorn stepped up, raising his hands as he spoke out in a loud and bolstering voice. ¡°We¡¯ll get you all out. Just calm down and keep a low voice. We don¡¯t know when those orcs will return, and we want to finish this quickly and orderly.¡± The dwarf turned to James, gesturing towards the cages. ¡°You get the ones on the left. I¡¯ll free the ones on the right.¡±

    James nodded at that, moving to the cages on the left side of the tent. Using his short sword, he broke the weak locks on the cages. Each prisoner he freed thanked James with tight hugs and multiple ¡®thank yous,¡¯ the former piling up more than what the young man was comfortable with. Still, none of the prisoners he freed were the source of the deep voice. Nor were any of them Archibald or Edmund. In the end, Bjorn and James freed about seven prisoners, a mixture of mostly humans, with a couple of gnomes and one dwarf.

    ¡°Where the hell are Archibald and Edmund?¡± James asked, looking around the dimly lit tent.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t right,¡± Bjorn muttered, his eyes squinting through the faint light.

    ¡°I can tell you where your friends are.¡± The deep voice rang out again, catching James and Bjorn''s attention. ¡°The elf and that other human, yes?¡±

    James turned to where the voice was coming from, his eyes squinting as he peered through the darkness, which hid the source in the back of the tent¡¯s interior. He located the source, focusing on a dark metal cage in the back of the tent. James slowly stepped to it before feeling a hand on his arm.

    It was the scarred man from earlier, his eyes full of fear as he shook his head. ¡°Don¡¯t go there, you don¡¯t want any business with that monster!¡± He warned.

    ¡°Quite a rude thing to say, is it not?¡± The deep voice then asked, followed by a chuckle. ¡°I won¡¯t bite if you¡¯re worried about that.¡±

    James gently pulled his arm away from the man, holding up his sword to show the man he wasn¡¯t unarmed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± he assured him before moving his focus back to the back of the tent. James approached the cage, doing his best to peer into its darkness. ¡°Where are they?¡±

    ¡°You will have to release me if you want to find out,¡± the voice replied.

    ¡°What makes you think I won¡¯t?¡± James entertained.

    ¡°Simple. You asked about your friends before making any attempts to free me.¡±

    ¡°Can you at least tell me why that man called you a monster?¡±

    ¡°Ah, stereotypes, I¡¯m afraid. I can assure you, though, that I am nothing like he assumes me to be.¡± The voice sounded smooth and handsome. It was almost like it was coming from a charismatic adventurer. It creeped James out even more.

    ¡°Why would he assume you to be a monster?¡± He asked.

    ¡°I suppose it would be best if you saw for yourself,¡± the mysterious person sighed. ¡°Take that sharp sword of yours and cut this disgusting tent. Let in some light and fresh air so you can see.¡±

    James took the strange prisoner¡¯s advice, using his sword to slash open the nearby fabric. The setting sun¡¯s light poured into the humid tent, a chilly breeze rushing in to replace the disgusting air. James raised an eyebrow as he looked back at the lit cage, his eyes focusing on the hulking figure in it.

    ¡°You¡¯re an orc,¡± James muttered, unsure what he expected. This orc looked different from his brethren. His dark green skin bordered on pitch black, while his head wasn¡¯t as misshapen as the others. Even his underbite was less noticeable as well.

    ¡°I am,¡± the orc stated, his eyes looking up at James with amusement.

    ¡°Why would your own kind lock you up?¡± James questioned, his eyes wandering to the steel lock that held the orc¡¯s cage.

    The orc shrugged, sighing as he mocked a frown.

    ¡°Politics. I disagreed with them, and they disagreed with me.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± James prodded.

    ¡°Blood-Irk, the brute who runs this camp, wants to raid and pillage southern Valenfrost purely out of want and greed. I, his former advisor, had suggested we do the opposite. I wanted our tribe to establish trade with merchants and form a symbiotic relationship with your kind. Unfortunately, as you can see from outside this tent, Blood-Irk had¡­ different views about humans.¡± The orc gestured to the rest of the tent.

    ¡°So he imprisoned you for wanting to be peaceful?¡± James prodded.

    ¡°Well, he wanted to exile me, but...¡± the orc sighed, following it up with a dry chuckle, ¡°Exile wasn¡¯t ideal for me. To make a long tale short, I failed in my initial incursion against that brute, got most of my own followers killed, and now my surviving companions and I are up for tonight¡¯s feast. The same goes for your friends and whatever humans are with them.¡± The orc looked up at James. ¡°So, young human, are you still willing to free me?¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± James closed his eyes, rubbing his chin as he focused on his thoughts.

    ¡®He¡¯s a filthy orc. Trusting him is a mistake,¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice rang out, letting James know of his current opinion on the matter.

    ¡®He knows where the two mercenaries are. As for trusting him, he really has no choice but to help us,¡¯ James mentioned.

    ¡®What do you mean?¡¯ Faust inquired, a curious tone in his ethereal voice.

    ¡®He has nowhere to go. The orcs in this camp already want to have him killed and eaten, and I doubt there are any other humans here who will truly trust him. Especially after what Blood-Irk has done to them,¡¯ James pointed out.

    ¡®What if he steals a longship and gets the hell away from here?¡¯ Faust argued.

    ¡®Do you really think anyone in Valenfrost would help an orc?¡¯ James countered. ¡®Judging from their reputation, I doubt he has many options besides freezing to death. He also seems reasonable enough to make a deal with.¡¯

    The Centurion was quiet for a moment.

    ¡®Are you really going to trust him?¡¯ Faust muttered after a few seconds.

    ¡®I will¡­ at least for the time being. We can deal with the long term after this is all done.¡¯

    Without waiting for the spirit¡¯s approval, James opened his eyes. He could see how the orc stared at him with a confused look.

    ¡°I¡¯ll free you,¡± James voiced, leaning closer to the cage, his hand extending to the orc before him. ¡°But you must swear to help me and my friends after I free you, got it? No running away, no unnecessary killing, and certainly no eating any and all humanoids.¡± James narrowed his eyes, staring into the orc¡¯s green orbs. He watched as the prisoner pondered the words a bit.

    ¡°Do we have a deal?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Would I be able to take my own companions along with me? I can promise they won¡¯t trouble you or your friends. I¡¯ll even have them follow the same terms you offer me,¡± the orc proposed.

    ¡°Of course, just as long as I can trust you and your companions not to be as barbaric as your other brethren,¡± James said. The orc grinned at James¡¯ response, his open hand reaching out of the metal bars.

    ¡°Then we have a deal,¡± he agreed, enough for James to shake his hand. ¡°I never really liked human flesh. I¡¯d rather prefer the taste of fish and greens.¡± The orc¡¯s words sent a chill down James¡¯ spine, but the young man shook it away.

    ¡°Can I ask for your name?¡± James asked, watching as the orc raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°I am Silas. I¡¯m not one to use a last name.¡±

    ¡°Alright then, Silas, I¡¯m going to need you to scoot away from the lock. Don¡¯t want to stab you while I try to break it.¡± James stood back up, his sword aimed at the cage''s lock. Before he could attempt to break it, however, a hand tapped his side for his attention. James turned to see Bjorn right at his side, his head shaking.

    ¡®Ah¡­ I forgot about him.¡¯

    James cringed a bit as he realized the dwarf hadn¡¯t had the chance to give his say on the matter.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to chip your blade like that. I can take care of this,¡± Bjorn waved James off, stepping up to the cage with his shield still equipped. With little warning, Bjorn smashed the edge of his steel shield into the lock, almost as if punching the stubborn piece of steel. The lock finally gave in after a few more good bashes, dropping to the dirt. The cage slowly creaked open, with Bjorn stepping back as the orc emerged from the tight space.

    ¡°This is much better. You do not know how cramped it was in that fucking cage.¡± Silas groaned as he stood up, his arms stretched above his head as he straightened himself out. Silas wasn¡¯t much taller than the other orcs but was still twenty centimeters taller than James. He also wore dirty, baggy clothes that stunk of mildew and death. James had to resist the urge to pinch his nose in disgust. Silas swept a large hand through his long black hair, which was messy to the point where it resembled coarse fur.

    ¡°So, my young friend, would you mind telling me you and your short companion¡¯s name?¡±

    ¡°My name is James, this here is¨C¡±

    ¡°Bjorn,¡± the dwarf grumbled, crossing his arms as he turned around. ¡°Now that we¡¯re done with introductions, we should start on our way to Arcibland and Edwards.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s actually Archibald and¨C¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit. We¡¯re running out of time, and I really don¡¯t think running through the forest at night time is going to go very well for any of us,¡± Bjorn stated, his hand already reaching for his ax.

    ¡°Or we can take the longship in the port,¡± Silas said. Bjorn stopped in his tracks before suddenly turning to James and Silas, his gaze focused on the orc.

    ¡°The hell are you suggesting?¡± The dwarf asked.

    Silas stepped up, his hands behind his back as he raised his chin nobly.

    ¡°Your friends and my companions are held in one of the longboats. They, along with more humans, will be butchered and eaten tonight. We can save them all, but it will more than likely alert every orc in this camp, no matter how subtly we try to take it. I suggest we take the longship, take ¡®care¡¯ of any orcs in the way, and sail off.¡±

    James looked at the orc in surprise, unsure if Silas was related to the brutes he had seen that day.

    ¡®His mannerisms and way of speaking are odd. Not only that, he seems to actually have a sensible plan.¡¯

    The young man turned to look at Bjorn, who seemed to rub at his beard in thought.

    ¡°That¡¯s not a bad idea. Do you know how to work a ship?¡± Bjorn asked.

    ¡°With my companions, I could,¡± Silas answered.

    ¡°What about Haggard?¡± James pointed out to Bjorn, remembering that the man was still in the encampment.

    ¡°Am I right to assume that this Haggard was the one who had caused that explosion earlier?¡± Silas asked, raising an eyebrow at James.

    ¡°Yeah...¡±

    ¡°If that explosion was caused by what I think it is, he will be fine. Eh¡­ that is if the orcs focus their attention on the fire.¡±

    ¡°Fire?¡± Bjorn asked, stepping up to the orc.

    ¡°I can explain later. For now, we must focus on the longship holding our imprisoned companions.¡± Silas stepped up the slash James made in the tent¡¯s fabric, holding up a loose piece to showcase the outside world.

    Once his eyes adjusted through the light, James could see the port nearby, where crude-looking longships docked neatly together.

    ¡°Do you see that ship? The one painted all black with no crap nailed onto it?¡± Silas pointed out. James focused on the ship the orc was gesturing towards, seeing that there were still a couple of orcs aboard the vessel. ¡°That¡¯s the ship your friends are on. I suggest we move in as quickly as possible. Quietly or loud. Whatever you think is best.¡±

    Silas turned to James, who was still pondering his options. Before James could make a choice, however, his ears picked up the sound of distant yells and screams, which were clearly human.

    James could feel his hand tighten into a fist, his teeth gritting as he turned to Silas.

    ¡°Can you fight?¡± The young man asked, hoping the orc could put his bolstering muscles to work. Silas grinned at that.

    ¡°I can. In fact...¡± Silas turned to the tent''s entrance, where the dead orc guard lay. ¡°I guess I can use his gear for now.¡±

    ¡°Good, because we¡¯re going to go in fast and rough,¡± James stated, his feet moving to turn him to Bjorn. ¡°Any objections?¡± he asked. The mercenary smiled at James¡¯ words, but his features soon faltered.

    ¡°As much as I want to bash in skulls, we have the other prisoners to look out for.¡± Bjorn gestured to the freed prisoners, who were still grouped up.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about us,¡± the scarred man from earlier spoke up, stepping forward with the remaining humans. ¡°We want in on this fight.¡± James could see how the other two humans, a woman, and another man, stepped up to the scarred man¡¯s side.

    ¡°I want in as well!¡± The single other dwarf spoke out, his face in rough shape. ¡°Those bastards need to pay for what they¡¯ve done!¡±

    ¡°Same with us!¡± one gnome spoke out. ¡°I¡¯m ready to pay any price, so long as I help take those bastards down!¡± The prisoners then all declared their opinions, their voices overlapping one another as they spoke about their readiness to fight.

    James raised both hands to quiet them all down. It worked, as their voices died down once James had stepped up. Once they were quiet, he surveyed them all, noting their determined faces and clenched fists. He also noticed their ragged clothing, most of it covered in dirt and dried blood. He sighed, his gaze moving to meet that of Silas.

    ¡°Silas, is it possible to get our hands on some weapons? Maybe an armory?¡±

    The orc grinned at James¡¯ question, his eyes moving to the tent''s entrance again.

    ¡°Luckily for you, young James, there is a tent nearby that can help with that.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 30: Lullaby

    Seamus pressed himself against the dirt cliff, his eyes moving to watch Miles. The ex-follower was peeking from their hidden position, keeping watch in case any of the orcs nearby got too close for comfort.

    ¡°Are they getting any closer?¡± Seamus whispered to Miles, who had crawled to hide himself behind the dirt cliff. They were currently on the shore, hiding behind a bend in the dirt cliffs. The sun was getting lower with every passing moment in the distance, its warm orange light reflecting off the black waves and showering over the group of oddballs.

    ¡°Not really¡­ One of them seemed to have thought he found the entrance, so they¡¯re all digging.¡± Miles tilted his head, peering over Seamus¡¯ shoulder. ¡°Not unlike our friend here.¡± Seamus turned to see what Miles was looking at, only to be met with a handful of dirt thrown at him.

    ¡°Ugh!¡± Seamus spluttered, spitting out the dirt that had made its way into his mouth.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± Lowe quickly apologized before he went back to digging through the dirt at the side of the cliff, pulling on roots and rocks. ¡°It¡¯s in here somewhere,¡± he muttered, his hands throwing heaps of dirt to the side.

    ¡°Are you certain this is the right spot?¡± Seamus asked as he wiped his mouth with a sleeve. The gnome had been vigorously searching throughout the dirt cliffs, looking for something he swore was there. Seamus wasn¡¯t sure if Lowe was¡­ right in the head.

    ¡®Maybe he really is getting older.¡¯

    Seamus frowned as he watched Lowe rip out a tree root, his hand throwing it away as he cursed audibly.

    ¡°This has to be the spot¡­ It has been a while since I last came by, but I know it¡¯s here!¡± The gnome continued to dig, his clothes and bandages already stained with dirt. Seamus sighed, scratching at the back of his head as he watched the gnome poke and dig. Seamus settled his attention on that strange woman, Lilith. She was currently sitting cross-legged on the gravel, her eyes watching the sunset in great interest.

    ¡°At least there¡¯s one person enjoying themselves,¡± Seamus muttered as he laid back against the dirt.

    ¡°So, since we have the time,¡± Miles spoke up, leaning against the dirt, not unlike Seamus. ¡°Would you mind telling me your story, Seamus Halvorson?¡± The masked man inquired. Seamus felt his shoulder tense up at the sound of his full name, his fists clenching all on their own.

    ¡°I would rather not,¡± the young man responded, resting his head against the dirt as he closed his eyes. ¡°There¡¯s nothing much to it than what you already heard from the bards and drunks at Vindis.¡± Seamus opened an eye, nearly recoiling in surprise at the closeup of Mile¡¯s grinning mask.

    ¡°I really doubt that,¡± the mercenary whispered, his low voice unnerving Seamus in a way he couldn¡¯t explain, the strangeness of it all making the young man slowly back off a little. ¡°How is it that out of all the people in your clan, you¡¯re the only one I¡¯ve heard of coming out alive?¡± Miles asked, a gloved hand pointing an accusatory finger at Seamus.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¨C¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s because you¡¯re something special. Someone so interesting that fate has allowed you another chance,¡± Miles murmured.

    ¡°This is ridiculous. Do you have a point with this?¡± Seamus retaliated, his hand moving to push Miles away. He couldn¡¯t help but feel unsettled by the ex-follower¡¯s words.

    ¡°I do if you allow me to finish,¡± Miles answered, no reaction coming out of him as Seamus pushed him.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear it. Keep that stuff about your insane god and his ¡®interests¡¯ away from me and my life,¡± Seamus angrily expressed. He was getting irritated by the mercenary, his hand moving to shove Miles even further away. The follower caught it, twisting Seamus'' hand into a weird angle, making the affected young man wince painfully as he fell onto a knee.

    ¡°Myr is not insane,¡± Miles spoke softly, his grinning mask staring down at Seamus. There was a menacing look to the wooden mask, especially with the orange light of the sunset casting a long shadow on the left of the mask¡¯s grin. ¡°As chaotic as he may seem, Myr has a plan.¡± Miles soon took a knee, his face now leveled with Seamus. ¡°A plan that obviously involves you¡­ Seamus.¡± The man poked at Seamus¡¯ forehead, right where his birthmark was. ¡°I only want insight into what he sees in you and that strange friend of yours.¡±

    Seamus stared back at Miles, a tinge of fear clouding his mind.

    ¡®What is with him?¡¯

    ¡°Then again¡­¡± Miles let go of Seamus¡¯ hand, his feet moving to stand himself up again. ¡°I can live without knowing.¡± Seamus stared up at Miles with a confused look while his hand rubbed at his hurting wrist. The strange man had lost the air of uneasiness that had radiated from him earlier, now passive and calm like before.

    Seamus slowly stood up again, narrowing his brow as he looked at Miles. Before he could ask the mercenary about what the hell his problem was, Seamus caught the glint of steel in his peripheral. Seamus turned to his left, his eyes focusing on Lilith. She was holding both of her axes, a scowl on her face as she positioned herself on the gravel, almost as if she was going to lunge at Miles.

    ¡°I wonder,¡± the ex-follower pondered, ¡°Why does she seem to only protect you?¡±

    Seamus swiveled back to Miles, noticing how the mercenary didn¡¯t seem to be worried about the berserker possibly tearing him to shreds. Seamus felt conflicted towards Miles, mainly because the man had a point.

    Why did Lilith save Seamus? Why was she protecting him at all? How did she learn to sign? These questions had been bothering Seamus for the better part of the last couple of hours, to the point where he felt as if he was going insane. Seamus looked at Lilith, wondering if the berserker was more closely related to his family than he had initially thought.

    ¡°Got it!¡± A voice sounded out, catching everyone¡¯s attention.

    ¡°I found it! I actually found it!¡± Lowe happily expressed, his hand pulling on a pale root. Seamus stared at the gnome, who was pulling the root with all of his might.

    ¡°Lowe, I don¡¯t think¡ª¡±

    CLICK!

    A noticeable sound came from the root Lowe was pulling. More clicks sounded out on the cliff in front of him, the dirt shaking as a section of it slowly moved.

    ¡°What the¡­?¡± Seamus watched in awe as a dark cavern was revealed, clumps of dirt falling from its roof as its hidden door opened. Everyone around stared into the dim opening, with Lowe happily cleaning his dirty hands on his clothes.

    ¡°This is it. This is the entrance to the vault,¡± the gnome proclaimed.

    Seamus blinked, looking down at Lowe with wide eyes. ¡°This is it?¡± He asked, his eyes moving towards the beckoning dark.

    ¡°Yes, but there is still one last obstacle. One that needs you, Seamus,¡± Lowe breathed out before walking himself into the dim cavern, leaving Seamus and Miles at the entrance. However, Lilith didn¡¯t seem as cautious as the two men as she curiously followed the gnome into the cavern. Seamus followed her example, forcing his feet to move as Miles followed him.

    Seamus squinted as he entered the cold and damp cavern, the light from the setting sun turning cold and faint.

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    ¡°I can¡¯t see a damn thing,¡± Seamus muttered, treading carefully over the rocks in his way.

    ¡°Illuminate,¡± Miles¡¯ voice spoke out suddenly behind Seamus, followed by a low humming. A soft blue light appeared right after, cascading the young man¡¯s shadow in front of him. Seamus turned around, noticing the small quartz stone in Miles¡¯ hand.

    It was a spell crystal, a common alternative to the widely used rune stones. Seamus had seen and heard about them twice before, but the crystals weren¡¯t as popular as the Wizards in Azurvale wanted them to be. Spell crystals were mainly used as portable torches for adventurers or as placeholders to rune stones since they could only hold level one spells and some level two spells. Level three spells, such as Fireballs or lightning bolts, were too much for the small crystals to hold. Although level one spells, like Illuminate or Candlelight, were a perfect fit for the spell crystals.

    Miles took the lead ahead, his hand holding the spell crystal above his head as he walked deeper into the cavern. Their walk wouldn¡¯t be as long as Seamus figured, as they soon came across a dead end. At least, that¡¯s what it seemed like.

    Seamus¡¯s eyes focused on the wall in front of them. It wasn¡¯t a wall at all but an old door, covered in moss and dirt from the years it had endured. At its foot, Seamus could see small bluish coins scattered haphazardly, their glint noticeable in the spell''s light crystal.

    ¡°Valdoras,¡± Seamus pointed out before he crouched down to grab one of the coins. It was a long and rectangular piece of currency commonly used by traders from Areno. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for Seamus¡¯ father to keep such coins, especially since Valdoras were specifically made for use all around Azura. Non-enchantable, scry-free, and valuable enough to be used like gold, even out-valuing a single gold piece since a single Valdora was worth around two of them.

    ¡°Looks like they left in a hurry,¡± Miles commented, his hand pointing out the way the Valdoras were spread out.

    ¡°Yorn wanted the vault to be cleared as soon as possible back when he was transferring its contents. It makes sense that a couple of Valdoras were dropped during the move,¡± Lowe explained, his own hand grabbing one of the Valdoras available on the floor.

    Seamus himself pocketed some coins before noticing Lilith curiously picking up one piece. She examined the blue Valdora as if transfixed by its shininess. Lilith quickly put the coin into her mouth, surprising Seamus. He watched as the strange woman moved the Valdora around her mouth before spitting it out with a disgusted look.

    Seamus held back a chuckle, looking away from the strange woman as she poked at the coin. Seamus¡¯ eyes turned back to the aforementioned door, his brow furrowing as he caught the writing at the top. His eyes widened as he recognized the words and their meaning. The mercenary seemed to have spotted it simultaneously as he wiped away some of the dirt and moss to read it.

    ¡°Sister moons¡­they will shine¡­ onto tiny blades of grass,¡± Miles muttered. ¡°What is this?¡± He asked, turning over to Lowe and Seamus.

    Lowe shrugged, gesturing towards the mossy door. ¡°I am not entirely sure. Whenever Yorn brought me here, he had me wait outside while he opened the vault.¡± The gnome turned to Seamus, his small hand gesturing towards him. ¡°Do you think you can understand this riddle?¡±

    Seamus frowned, keeping quiet as he stepped up to the door. He focused on the writing, his hand wiping away some of the grime that had formed under it. It revealed another piece of writing, this one detailing something else.

    ¡°I knew it,¡± Seamus muttered, his eyes focusing on the carved words. ¡°It¡¯s not a riddle. It¡¯s an old lullaby,¡± he explained, noting the significant gap between two of the pieces of writing.

    ¡°A lullaby?¡± Miles asked, his mask turning back to the wall of writing before him.

    ¡°Yes¡­ an old lullaby,¡± Seamus mumbled, his eyes scanning the wall for anything else. He could spot something else beneath the moss, his hand wiping it away to reveal a large handprint that could only belong to a single man.

    ¡°How does that help us?¡± Lowe asked, his hand wiping away more of the moss, possibly in hopes of a hidden clue.

    Seamus thought back to his memories, remembering the last time he had heard this lullaby. He was but a child, resting his head on his mother¡¯s lap. He had a nightmare prior to coming to her and wished for his mother to comfort him. Seamus closed his eyes as he remembered her soft words, her gentle hand brushing his hair as she had sung this same lullaby. The young man opened his eyes, his hand gently touching the words.

    ¡°I might have an idea,¡± Seamus said slowly. He rubbed the back of his head, feeling his cheeks grow red as he looked at the handprint below the words. He swallowed nervously, pressing his palm against the handprint that resembled his father¡¯s. Nothing.

    ¡°It¡¯s going to be like that, huh?¡± Seamus muttered, a small smile forming on his lips as he sighed. Seamus closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, his voice singing out the same lullaby that his mother had sung all those years ago.

    ¡°Go to sleep, sweet darling. Don¡¯t you see the moons in the sky? Sister moons, they will shine onto gentle blades of grass. Go to sleep, my darling. Ravens watch over you and me. No matter where, they will see, white raven, do you sleep?¡±

    An ethereal tone accompanied the words of the lullaby, proof that opening this door was the correct answer. While he sang, Seamus could feel his palm growing hot, and the sound of gears whirring and stone moving, signifying to him that his assumption was right.

    He opened his eyes once finished, slowly pulling his hand away from the door as it shuddered. It split wide, both sides of the stone creaking loudly as they opened for Seamus and his group. The young man turned to look at his entourage, watching as Miles and Lowe stared in awe. Seamus noticed Lilith, who had stopped playing with her blue coin. She was staring at Seamus with a distinct look, her eyes glinting with sorrow and nostalgia. Before anyone could speak, however, distant voices sounded out from the cavern¡¯s entrance.

    ¡°I heard something in there! Sounded really loud!¡±

    ¡°Wot, like a bear?¡±

    ¡°Nah, like something huge just moved!¡±

    ¡°Git in there then! I think we found it!¡±

    ¡°Shit!¡± Seamus cursed, his hands quickly gesturing towards the open vault. ¡°Get in now! Close the doors!¡± He hurried, watching as Miles and Lowe rushed through the open doors. He turned to look at Lilith, who was moving to grab her axes.

    ¡°Lilith, get back now!¡± Seamus shouted. The berserker ignored him, her arms sliding off her jacket and cloak, leaving her shoulders free to move. Seamus cursed, not wanting this crazy woman to get herself killed. He grabbed her arms, pulling her away to get her to safety. Lilith didn¡¯t seem to like it, however, as she thrashed around in his hold, shouting incoherently as she clawed at him.

    Seamus took the scratches. His jaw clenched as she bit his hands and arms, leaving even more marks on him. He still didn¡¯t care. Seamus forced the woman into the vault as Miles tried to push the doors closed.

    ¡°Close it!¡± Seamus shouted. In the distant part of the cave, he could see the light of a torch, followed by the outline of the orcs and smaller creatures with visible spears.

    ¡®Goblins,¡¯ he realized with wide eyes.

    ¡°I¡­ can¡¯t move it!¡± Miles shouted back, the effort in his voice. Seamus cursed to himself, mainly from Lilith¡¯s bite to his biceps.

    ¡°Take care of Lilith, then! I¡¯ll handle the door!¡± Seamus shouted out as the mercenary moved quickly to help subdue the berserker.

    Seamus wasted no time, his hand grabbing the spell crystal from Miles¡¯ hand. He quickly shone the crystal¡¯s light onto the doors, looking for any way to close it. Seamus cursed to himself, realizing that there was no way to close it from the inside. An idea suddenly popped into his head, his eyes widening as he ran to the exterior of the door, pressing his palm against the handprint once more.

    ¡°Go to sleep, sweet darling. Don¡¯t you see the moons in the sky?!¡±

    ¡°Seamus? What the hel are you doing?!¡± Lowe¡¯s voice exclaimed, fear in his words.

    ¡°Sister moons, they will shine onto gentle blades of grass!¡±

    ¡°Seamus, get the hel away from there!¡± Miles shouted, ¡°The orcs are getting closer!¡±

    ¡°Go to sleep, my darling. Ravens watch over you and me!¡±

    Seamus spotted what looked to be Lilith running out of the entrance, a blur of steel and skin passing by him. He ignored the sounds of steel clashing and orc screams behind him.

    ¡°No matter where, they will see, white raven, do you sleep?!¡±

    Seamus finished, feeling his hand burn hot as he pulled it away from the doors. He could see how they moved, signifying that his plan worked. He turned around to see Lilith fighting, her axes wrenching away from the head of one of the unlucky goblins that had come at her. She kicked away another of the smaller creatures before slashing at the lead orc. Seamus¡¯ eyes widened as Lilith made a misstep, resulting in the orc¡¯s kick connecting with her gut. The berserker rolled back in a tumble, her axes scattering around the vault door.

    There were visible wounds on her body as she tried to get up, blood running down her arms and forehead. Seamus quickly grabbed her by the arms, dragging her back as the vault doors closed. Thankfully, she didn¡¯t fight, her body relaxing in his hold as he dragged her into the vault just as the doors neared each other.

    Before they could fully close, however, two greenish hands stopped them, the orc behind the doors yelling incoherent threats as he tried to pry the stone doors apart. Unfortunately for the brute, Miles came in, using one of Lilith¡¯s axes to cut through the bastard¡¯s fingers. The orc screamed in agony, his hands pulling back just enough for the vault doors to close, leaving the group in the darkness of the empty vault.

 B.2 Chapter 31: The Longship

    Kor grumbled as he sat guard, his dirty hand scratching at the fat that hung off his second chin. ¡°What do you think caused that big boom up there?¡± He asked, turning to his fellow orc, who was currently messing around with his broken ax.

    ¡°Shit, if Urg knows. The only thing Urg knows is that we stay here and guard,¡± Urg grumbled. The orc scratched at his scalp as he held the ax up to inspect it. The blade then fell off onto the longship¡¯s deck.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± Urg cursed in frustration before he moved to reassemble his ax. ¡°Why are we here anyway?¡±

    ¡°Guarding meat for tonight¡¯s feast. We¡¯re going to kill and cook them here.¡± Kor responded, his eyes moving to the club in his hand. It was a sturdy piece of wood made long ago during Blood-Irk¡¯s raids on barbarian lands. He would prefer it over that shiny rapier he had snatched from Fir earlier that day.

    ¡°Errr, but there is no butcher?¡±

    ¡°Our butcher went off to get more meat from the tent, remember?¡± Kor reminded the other orc, watching as the slow idiot processed his words. The butcher, Dras, had gone off to fetch one of the main courses, that of traitor Silas. Kor gritted his teeth at the thought of that blasphemous orc. How the bastard had tried to kill Blood-Irk for doing what was natural, which was eating the flesh of their foes. Thankfully, Silas was next up on the cutting board, with even Blood-Irk proclaiming that the traitor would be cooked and eaten for his crimes against the tribe.

    ¡°Hmmm, Dras is taking much longer to get the meat,¡± Kor mumbled, his head moving to look at where the tents were. They were the closest to the encampment, their longship¡¯s bridge connected to the dirt that made the camp¡¯s foundation. He can see the flames in the distance, how they emitted pillars of smoke from the burning tents.

    ¡°Blood-Irk is going to have someone¡¯s head if they don¡¯t get that fire under control.¡± His focus on the tents was suddenly broken by the sound of rattling chains, the source of which was below the deck.

    ¡°Let Dog out! Dog will kill all of you!¡±

    Kor sighed as he stepped to the hatch that led below the decks. ¡°Shut up, you animal! You aren¡¯t going to do shit!¡± Kor shouted. The crazed orc imprisoned below shouted some more, his chains rattling audibly.

    ¡°Dog did nothing wrong!¡±

    ¡°You sided with that traitor, Silas! You even tried to bite Blood-Irk before he knocked you out!¡±

    ¡°Errr! Blood-Irk asshole! Dog don¡¯t like human meat! Dog like humans alive!¡± The prisoner shouted.

    ¡°You¡¯re a delusional idiot,¡± Kor mumbled, shaking his head as he looked towards Urg. Urg seemed to be focused on his ax, which now seemed to be together again. Kor watched as Urg did a couple of practice swings with the weapon, which thankfully stayed together.

    Kor soon heard the sounds of footsteps walking up the bridge behind him. Multiple footsteps, in fact. It seemed as if Dras had brought more humans than necessary. The orc sighed as he turned to the deck bridge.

    ¡°Dras, you were only supposed to get one of¡ª¡±

    Kor¡¯s eyes widened in surprise as a round shield¡¯s edge struck against his jaw and lips. The orc recoiled back from the impact, his teeth definitely broken now. Kor spat the blood and teeth from his mouth, his eyes blinking a few times before he finally focused on the attacker. It was a bearded human, armored in leather, as he held onto a shield stained with Kor¡¯s blood. It looked like one of the many round shields the orcs had taken from that town days ago. The blond human also carried a short sword, and a broadsword was slung over his back. Kor glimpsed the grin underneath the human¡¯s steel helm, the sight infuriating the orc.

    ¡°You little¨C!¡±

    Before Kor could do anything, someone else joined in. They suddenly shoved him, pushing him further back onto the deck. Kor then saw the flash of steel, and his reflexes kicked in. He raised his armored gauntlet, a rusted ax head burying itself into his forearm. It bypassed the cheap leather vambrace he wore, sending specks of blood flying. While painful, the attack was stopped short. A wounded forearm was better than his jaw getting lopped off. Kor looked at his second attacker, and his blood boiled at the sight of the traitor¡¯s cocky grin.

    ¡°Remember me?¡± Silas asked before he pulled his ax from Kor¡¯s arm. Kor backed away, holding his club up with no trouble.

    ¡°I¡¯ll kill you for that!¡± he exclaimed, gritting his teeth as he kept his distance. Kor examined his opponents, the human, and the traitor. He risked a quick glance at Urg, wanting to know his situation. His fellow orc was currently fighting with an armored dwarf and three other humans who had scraps of armor and clothing on them.

    ¡®He¡¯ll be fine. He is well armored and trained.¡¯

    ¡°I see you killed Dras and took his armor?¡± Kor called out to Silas, who held the aforementioned orc¡¯s ax.

    ¡°That was him? I couldn¡¯t tell from the way his head was. It looked like that of a burst melon,¡± Silas taunted with another one of his shit-eating grins.

    ¡°Bastard!¡± Kor shouted, and he rushed toward the traitorous orc before him.

    In his rage, however, he had forgotten about the human. Kor felt a sharp pain at his side, making him halt as he winced. He turned to the source of the pain, his focus on the human from before. The orc could see how this man had a bloodstained short sword in his hand, its tip positioned for another attack. Kor wasted no time, his club swinging at the human in front of him.

    Just as the club was about to strike, however, the man dropped like a sack of potatoes, ass hitting the deck as the Kor¡¯s weapon missed his head. It was strange, but Kor used the momentum from his initial swing to spin around and make a second advance on the human, aiming straight for his arm. The human quickly blocked with his round shield, taking the hit head-on.

    The club struck true, sending the human onto the ground from its impact. As Kor moved to advance, Silas swiftly swung a rusted ax at him, interrupting his movement. Kor blocked and dodged the attacks, his club taking most of the swings headed at him.

    ¡°Sloppy!¡± Kor shouted, his foot kicking at Silas¡¯ shins, making the other orc lose his footing. Kor took the chance to attack, swinging his club at Silas¡¯ chest. Success. The other orc stumbled back from the impact, his ax dropping as he fell onto the deck. Kor raised his club above his head, ready to finish Silas off. He felt another sharp pain at his side, this time much more excruciating, as a blade was twisted into his open wound.

    ¡°Agh! Fucker!¡± Kor cursed, his head swiveling to see the blond man from earlier, his hands twisting a short sword¡¯s handle. Kor didn¡¯t give him time to react, his fist punching the human right in his armored face. The human flew back, helmet flying off as he landed on the deck. Kor winced again, realizing that the human had left his short sword inside the orc¡¯s side.

    Kor gritted his teeth as he pulled the blade out of his flesh quickly and brutally, some blood staining the armor he was wearing.

    ¡®How did that human recover so quickly? I surely broke his arm when I hit him. Shield or no shield.¡¯

    ¡°Damn human,¡± the orc muttered, dropping the short sword as he caught his breath. He turned to Silas, who was still trying to recover.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to enjoy tearing you apart,¡± Kor called out to the traitor. ¡°Bring your head to Blood-Irk himself.¡± Kor kicked at the orc, and his club moved to take a finishing blow. Before he could kill Silas, however, his eyes caught something quick passing by him, the movement stunning him for a bit.

    ¡°What the¡­?¡± The orc blinked, his head moving to see what had just passed him. He soon felt something sharp stab into his calf, drawing a pained yell from the orc.

    ¡°Who the¡ª?¡± Another stab of pain interrupted the orc. His head swiveled to see a gnome at his side, a large dagger in his hand as he stabbed at Kor¡¯s exposed weak points.

    ¡°Agh! You little!¡± Kor shouted as he tried to grab at the nuisance. The gnome was too fast, his agile legs moving him out of reach for the orc. Kor felt another stab at his left, his eyes spotting another gnome at his side.

    ¡°Little bastards!¡± Kor reached out once more, this time certain he was going to grab the little shit. Unfortunately for Kor, the orc would fail. His exposed left hand was suddenly chopped down by the edge of a broadsword, the blade cutting all the way to the bones of his fingers.

    Kor shouted out in agony, his eyes moving up to see the human from before. His helmet was gone, exposing messy blond hair and scuffed beard to the wind. He was damp with sweat and blood, his dark blue eyes staring down at the orc with renewed strength. Kor watched as the man stomped on the orc¡¯s wrist, pulling the broadsword out with some effort. Kor winced and screamed from the action. Still, he did not plan on giving up despite the agony. He used this chance to grab his club with his right, moving to swing at the human before him.

    The blond man quickly backed away, the club missing its mark as it slammed against the deck. His boot kicked at Kor¡¯s wrist, forcing the orc to drop his weapon. With a shout full of vigor, the human went for another swing at the orc¡¯s exposed arm. He missed his mark, the broadsword deflecting off Kor¡¯s armguard. Kor took this chance to disarm the human.

    This man somehow dodged his grasping hand, almost as if he had perfect reflexes. Kor¡¯s eyes widened as he watched the man¡¯s boot rise again, this time aimed at the orc¡¯s exposed face. Kor recoiled back from the blow, feeling the blood trickle down his nose and mouth. He spat the oily substance out, trying to get his bearings as he stifled the bleeding with his good hand.

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    ¡°Had enough yet?¡± the human asked right after, clearly out of breath. He was slouched over as if his sword weighed like cement.

    ¡°Damn you! I¡¯ll kill you if it¡¯s the last thing I do!¡± Kor shouted. He slowly moved to pick himself up, feet stumbling as he did so. He fell to the ground on his knees, his body feeling weak.

    ¡°That¡¯s a shame, then. Because it won¡¯t be,¡± the human answered, puffs of vapor coming out of his bloodied lips.

    Before Kor could say anything to the damnable bastard in front of him, he noticed a tall shadow cast over him. His eyes widened, and he turned to see the towering form of Silas, ax raised above his head.

    Kor started to shout, to say anything, to have his last words actually mean something.

    In the end, the orc settled for ¡°You wo¨C¡± before his head was cleaved in half. The last thing Kor ever saw before the darkness came was that of Silas, the Traitor.

    <hr>

    James fell back onto the deck, his lungs taking in the cold, frigid air as he rested his overheated body. He watched as Silas pulled at his rusted ax, wrenching it from the dead orc¡¯s skull.

    ¡°Thanks for the save,¡± James sighed in relief, his hand dropping Edmund¡¯s broadsword onto the deck.

    ¡°Is he dead?¡± One gnome on the other side asked, a dagger in his bruised hands.

    ¡°He isn¡¯t getting up soon,¡± James muttered, the taste of blood and blackberries on his tongue. He made a face, spitting at the deck to his right. There was a red tinge in his spit due to his cut lip. ¡°So yeah, he¡¯s dead,¡± James added clearly, groaning as he slowly stood back up again.

    The gnome sighed in relief, his small hands dropping the dagger. However, his friend was still adamant against the green fiend, his dagger stabbing at the bleeding corpse.

    ¡°Die! Die! Bastard!¡± the gnome shouted angrily, most of his strikes bouncing off the armor rather than piercing the flesh.

    ¡®Feisty fellow, isn¡¯t he?¡¯ Faust commented.

    James raised an eyebrow at the raging gnome before he moved in to pull the enraged fighter off of the dead orc.

    ¡°He¡¯s dead,¡± James reiterated, furrowing his brow at the gnome. The dagger wielder caught his breath, a look of manic rage in his eyes as he panted heavily.

    ¡°Bastards took everything! Destroyed our home!¡± The small man shouted in clear despair.

    James watched the gnome scream out his frustrations and even throw his dagger at the corpse. He felt nothing but sympathy for the former prisoner, knowing well that the gnome had had a hellish experience these last few days.

    ¡°The day¡¯s not over yet, my friend,¡± Silas commented, his hand picking up the sturdy club the dead orc dropped. ¡°There¡¯s plenty of time for us to get our revenge on those bastards.¡± The orc grinned as he examined the club, wiping away some of the blood that stained it. James frowned at the sight of the club, his arm radiating with pain as he recalled the blow that nearly broke his Carapace spell.

    ¡®That asshole almost broke my arm from that single blow. Just how strong was he?¡¯

    James looked over the dead corpse to his left. His eyebrow raised when he spotted something shiny. James bent over, his hand reaching for the orc¡¯s belt. After some struggling with the straps, James pulled out a sheathed rapier, its hilt shining silver.

    ¡°I was wondering where you were,¡± the young man muttered. He unsheathed the weapon, his eyes focusing on the rapier¡¯s thin blade, which was uniquely engraved with runes.

    ¡®Delilah, was it?¡¯ James questioned mentally, Faust¡¯s voice coming in to respond a second later.

    ¡®Ha! Almost forgot about that ridiculous elf and his rapier. Do you think he¡¯ll cry if we reunite him with his precious sword?¡¯ The spirit asked in an amused tone.

    ¡®Well, let¡¯s just hope he¡¯s not among the dead first,¡¯ James responded before he sheathed the rapier.

    He looked over to where Bjorn was earlier, remembering that the dwarf had taken on the second orc guard. James was met with the sight of the mercenary resting and drinking out of his flask while the group of humans next to him kicked at the dead corpse of the orc. James watched as Bjorn shared his drink with the other dwarf prisoner, who gladly took the steel flask with a grin.

    ¡®They seemed to have had an easier time dealing with their orc,¡¯ the young man thought with envy, rubbing at his hurting arm.

    ¡°Alright then, let¡¯s get started on freeing the prisoners below,¡± James called out, his hand picking up his short sword and Edmund¡¯s blade.

    Silas nodded in agreement, holstering his ax as he slung the club over his back. ¡°Let¡¯s get to it then. The faster we get done with this, the faster we leave this hellhole.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Bjorn seconded as he stood back up, heading his way to where James and Silas were.

    ¡°You think you can get his hatch open?¡± James asked as he eased Edmund¡¯s broadsword back into its sheath, his other hand propping the awkwardly placed scabbard so the sword could slide in. Bjorn scoffed at that, his shield hand already preparing to bash at the hatch near James and Silas.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for that.¡± Silas stepped in, raising a hand to stop Bjorn. He raised a hand, jingling a set of keys that had specks of blood on them. The orc crouched near the locked hatch, his oversized hands fumbling with each of the keys as he tried to open the hatch. As the orc did his job, James noticed a disappointed look on Bjorn¡¯s face.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you enjoyed bashing locks so much,¡± James commented, using the hem of his tunic to clean his short sword.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that,¡± the dwarf revealed, sighing as he scratched at his beard. ¡°I was looking forward to a challenge today, but¡­¡± he grumbled as he looked back at the rescued prisoners, who were currently dragging the bodies off to the side.

    ¡°Yeah, there wasn¡¯t as much fighting as I thought there was going to be,¡± James agreed, his eyes scanning the encampment nearby. He squinted his eyes into the distance, watching as more plumes of smoke rose into the sky, darkening the clouds even more. ¡°I¡¯m sure Haggard is having his fair share of action,¡± James mumbled, his hand sweeping back the dampened mess that was his hair.

    He heard the telltale sound of a lock clicking, signifying that his short time of rest was over. James sighed as he picked up his fallen helmet and sturdy shield, courtesy of Aldren¡¯s pillaged armory. He looked down at the steel helm, noticing how much more scuffed and dented it was compared to the shining piece of armor it was at the beginning of their adventure.

    ¡®Remind me to go back to that dwarf blacksmith in Vindis after this is all over.¡¯

    James turned to the rest of the freed prisoners, who all seemed to want to follow the young man beneath the decks.

    ¡°You should all stay up here,¡± James offered, his hand gesturing towards the open hatch. ¡°I doubt there¡¯s much space down there, so I think it¡¯s best if you all stay out here, stand guard and such.¡± He watched as some of their reactions soured to his words, but none of the men seemed to complain.

    James nodded, turning back to the open space below him. With little of a word, James followed Bjorn, slipping into the open hatch. The first thing that hit James was the smell of what he could describe as ¡®sour sweat,¡¯ the disgusting stench outrivaling the one back in the tent. He covered his nose and mouth with a gloved hand as he walked around the dark space beneath the longship¡¯s deck, his eyes squinting through the sparse light. This was much more spacious than James had expected from the longship, especially since it was smaller than Frostbite. Just as the young man was about to ask Silas something, he was suddenly met with the loud sound of chains yanking against metal, making James jump from surprise.

    ¡°Shit!¡± James cursed out, his hand quickly going for his short sword.

    ¡°Free Dog! Dog want out! Let Dog go!¡± a growling voice called out. James stopped, his eyes focusing on the source. There was an orc that he hadn¡¯t noticed, this one¡¯s arms and legs bound with chains. The orc was a lighter green than most, his eyes frantically looking over James and his companions.

    ¡°What the¡­?¡± James muttered before Silas stepped up to the orc, his hand raised at the strange brute.

    ¡°Down Dog,¡± Silas ordered, his voice commanding and strict. The orc did as ordered, his body relaxing as he sat down.

    ¡°Uh¡­?¡± James questioned, raising an eyebrow as he looked over at Silas.

    The orc sighed as he swept back some of his coarse hair. ¡°Dog is one of my companions. He¡¯s strange, as you can see.¡±

    ¡°No shit,¡± Bjorn commented, the dwarf looking at ¡®Dog¡¯ with a look of confusion.

    ¡°Why does he call himself Dog?¡± James inquired, watching as Silas moved to unlock the chains on the orc, the lock of which was connected to a rod on the floor.

    ¡°A few months back, he fell off one of our longships. We thought he was dead until a month later when we found him in an abandoned settlement. Turns out, he had washed up there and survived by befriending a group of canines that lived on the island¡­ and somehow lost a good deal of his own sanity. He only listens to me and won¡¯t hurt humans unless provoked,¡± Silas explained, standing back up as the lock and rod dropped onto the ground.

    ¡°Dog, stand,¡± Silas ordered. The orc named Dog slowly stood up, his scarred body now much more visible to James. He could see claw marks, long scars, and even what looked like burns.

    ¡°Dog no like the smell on the human,¡± the orc muttered, sniffing the air as he turned to James. ¡°Stinks of the dead, human dead,¡± Dog growled.

    James blinked, confused at what the hell this orc was talking about. He hadn¡¯t killed a single soul his entire life, not even any of the orcs he had fought beforehand. At least, not counting the two abominations he had put down in the last week. Then again¡­

    ¡®Does he smell you, Faust?¡¯ James realized that the orc focused on the spirit that inhabited his body.

    ¡®If he really can, then we might have a problem,¡¯ Faust murmured.

    ¡°Everything smells like death down here, you overgrown idiot,¡± a voice suddenly called out, catching the attention of everyone. James felt a grin come onto his face as he came eye to eye with a certain black-haired elf, a scowl painting his face as he raised his chains. ¡°Are you going to get me out of here or what? I feel disgusting breathing in this stench!¡± Archibald complained loudly, pulling on his chains.

    ¡°You¡¯re one to complain,¡± another voice answered, this one gruff and boisterous. James turned to see another orc in chains, along with what seemed to be another couple of imprisoned orcs next to him. ¡°We¡¯ve been breathing in this stench for Dremor knows how long! Silas! Quit gawking like a fool and get us out of here!¡±

    As James¡¯ eyes adjusted to the faint light, he could see more human prisoners nearby where Archibald was, including a certain mercenary who was gagged.

    ¡°Mmmf! Jmms!¡± Edmund exclaimed, his gag muffling his voice and words. As a result, other prisoners awakened nearby, their own voices shouting out for help, not unlike the last time James was put in this position. Bjorn sighed audibly, adjusting the shield on his left as he stepped up to James.

    ¡°So, I free the ones on the left?¡±

    ¡°And I free the ones on the right,¡± James finished, readying his round shield as he looked to Silas, who was already moving to free his own companions. James sighed, stepping up to Archibald, his round shield ready to bash away the lock that held the elf captive.

 B.2 Chapter 32: The Vault

    Seamus cursed silently as he bumped his foot against something hard again, pain shooting through his toes as he gritted his teeth. This was not an ideal situation for the young man and his group. He was trapped in the vault¡¯s darkness, with nothing to light his way as he stumbled around.

    ¡°Did you find it yet?¡± Seamus called out to Miles, waiting for a response from the mercenary. There was a sound of something crashing onto the floor, followed by hushed cursing as more things were kicked around.

    ¡°No¡­ Can¡¯t find my satchel,¡± Miles responded, his voice followed by the sound of more objects crashing to the ground. The satchel they were looking for belonged to Miles and contained another spell crystal for the group to use since Seamus had dropped it outside the vault¡¯s doors.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± Seamus muttered, his eyes moving to where he assumed Lowe was. ¡°Lowe, isn¡¯t there a light in here? Maybe some torches or any magical means?¡±

    ¡°There should be. The torches here should be linked to the magical ley lines below. They should¡¯ve lit up when the doors opened!¡± Lowe¡¯s voice came from far on Seamus¡¯ right. The young man turned and slowly shuffled his way to the gnome¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Makes no sense. A skilled Wizard specifically linked those torches to the ley lines. There¡¯s no way they could¡¯ve gone unlinked without another skilled spellcaster forcibly separating them,¡± Lowe muttered once more, the sound of crashing objects following straight after. Miles cursed in another language, his frustration evident in his voice.

    ¡°Alright, this is getting annoying,¡± Miles¡¯s voice sounded out once more, this time powered by magical energy. ¡°Candlelight.¡±

    Seamus could see how something glowed softly out in the darkness, its source coming from the runic tattoo on Miles¡¯ arm. An orb of light flashed in the mercenary¡¯s open palm, illuminating the surroundings like a miniature sun. Seamus blinked, trying to adjust his vision as he looked around himself. He could see Lowe nearby, his own eyes blinking as he looked at Miles.

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t use that before?¡± The gnome asked, narrowing his eyes at the mercenary.

    ¡°I was running low on spells,¡± Miles responded, his hand guiding the orb to follow him as he walked to the vault¡¯s entrance. ¡°I only have two more castings left in my reserves,¡± Miles muttered as he picked up his fallen satchel. ¡°Initially had more, but I used them back in that clearing.¡±

    ¡°Had more? What¡¯d you used them on?¡± Lowe asked, a confused look on his face. Miles pulled a couple of crystals out of his satchel, holding them in between his fingers.

    ¡°How¡¯d you think I avoided detection from those brutes?¡± The mercenary tossed the crystals to Seamus, who caught them.

    ¡°You used Shadow Step, didn¡¯t you?¡± Seamus asked, furrowing his brow. He recalled the spell from the days when he sparked conversations with the warriors serving his father.

    Shadow Step was a rank two spell casting used by rogues and thieves. At least, used by those who could put in the time and training to learn it or afford to have it inscribed onto their skin. Shadow Step could magically cloak the user, having them blend in with literal shadows for a limited time. It was the next best thing to invisibility, which was a rank-four spell far out of the reach of average rogues and thieves. Still, it was an illegal spell for commoners and adventurers to have for obvious reasons.

    Seamus frowned, remembering how Miles had disappeared from sight at the clearing despite those orcs practically being everywhere. Back in that forest, it would¡¯ve been easy for someone to slip into the shadows of those trees unnoticed¡­

    Miles held a finger to his painted grin, making a shushing noise as he chuckled. ¡°Might give away my secret,¡± he amusingly stated. Seamus watched as Miles adjusted his satchel to his belt, his feelings mixed with the strange man. He sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at the two crystals.

    ¡°Illuminate,¡± Seamus muttered, watching as the crystals hummed to life, their blue glow inviting to the young man. Seamus handed one crystal to Lowe, who carried it close like it was his firstborn. Seamus attached his crystal to his belt so he didn¡¯t have to hold it everywhere. The young man noticed Lilith¡¯s crumpled form from afar, her body resting against a stone wall.

    ¡°Oh, shit.¡± Seamus made his way to the berserker, his hands propping her upright as he examined her wounds. Lilith was thankfully breathing, her chest slowly rising and falling. There were a couple of bleeding gashes on her arms and abdomen, as well as some scrapes and scratches. While the injuries weren¡¯t life-threatening, Seamus still felt worried as his eyes wandered to Lilith¡¯s forehead, where blood slowly ran.

    ¡®She probably passed out not too long after she hit her head. Explains why she didn¡¯t fight back when I dragged her into here.¡¯

    Seamus turned to the other two men in the vault. Lowe was currently examining the stone walls nearby, probably looking for something. Miles was currently looking around the vault, his orb of light shining over abandoned barrels and dusty vases.

    ¡°Miles!¡± Seamus called out, catching the ex-follower¡¯s attention. ¡°Lilith¡¯s hurt. I need you to come over and bandage her wounds.¡± Seamus watched as Miles did as told, his hands searching through his satchel as he made his way to the unconscious woman. The mercenary, or healer, knelt next to Lilith, his glove reaching to check the wound on her forehead. He stopped, looking over at Seamus.

    ¡°She will not rip my throat out with her teeth, will she?¡±

    ¡°Miles!¡±

    ¡°Right, healer obligations.¡± Miles nodded, his hands moving to examine the head wound before he soon got to work, his hands bringing out the supplies necessary. Seamus watched as the mercenary cleaned up some blood before wetting the cloth with a strongly scented liquid. He pinched his nose as the scent reached him, the smell reminding him of strong booze.

    ¡°Cleansing alcohol,¡± Miles explained with a chuckle, capping the vial from which the liquid came from. ¡°It stings, so hold her back just in case this wakes her up.¡±

    With little of a warning, Miles pressed the cloth against one of the berserker¡¯s wounds, cleaning it. Seamus looked at Lilith¡¯s face, hoping to all the gods she wouldn¡¯t wake up and try to gut Miles.

    Lilith winced at the action of Miles cleaning her wounds, but thankfully, she still seemed to be unconscious. After some cleaning and bandaging, Lilith¡¯s head and right arm were finally wrapped up, which relieved Seamus.

    However, midway through bandaging Lilith¡¯s abdomen, which required Seamus to shift the woman¡¯s body slightly, Lilith regained consciousness. Only after Seamus had moved her back to a sitting position did he realize her eyes fluttering open, a soft groan coming out of her as she awoke. The young man¡¯s eyes widened as he saw this, his head turning to Miles as the man finished with his bandaging.

    Before Seamus could say anything in warning, Lilith finally realized what was going on. The berserker¡¯s eyes widened with rage as she saw Miles¡¯ hands on her abdomen, her hands lunging after him. Seamus moved in quickly, holding her back as her fingers barely scratched against Miles¡¯ white mask. Seamus struggled with Lilith, holding her from behind as he tried to sign to her, yelling as he did so.

    ¡°Friend! Friend!¡± He shouted, using one hand to sign to her as he held her back. The berserker initially seemed to ignore Seamus but soon stopped her attempts at Miles. Seamus watched Lilith wince, her hand moving to her side as she slowly lost the will to go after the masked man. The berserker soon slumped in Seamus¡¯ arms, catching her breath as Seamus placed her back against the wall. Lilith visibly winced once more, her hand clutching her bandaged abdomen.

    ¡°She needs to be careful,¡± Miles pointed out, slowly approaching the two with cautious steps. ¡°I still need to bandage up her left arm.¡±

    Lilith noticed how close Miles was getting, her eyes narrowing as she tried to reach for her axe, which wasn¡¯t by her side. Still, without her ax, Lilith resorted to growling at Miles, who slowly neared her.

    ¡°He¡¯s a friend,¡± Seamus said, his hands moving to make the symbol for it. ¡°Friend,¡± he repeated. Lilith stopped her growling, her eyes staring at Seamus as the man tried to communicate. She had a confused look on her face as the young man tried to sign to her.

    ¡°Healer. He is a Healer!¡±

    Seamus hoped he wasn¡¯t messing up his signs, as it could easily get ugly. Lilith seemed to only stare at Seamus, her brow furrowed as she watched him. After some awkward silence, Lilith brought out her hands, forming signs for Seamus.

    He will hurt you. Kill you.

    ¡°What? Why?¡±

    He did it last time. I won¡¯t let him do it again.

    Seamus read her signs, blinking as he interpreted them. He looked at Lilith¡¯s expression, which had changed to a mixture of fear and confusion.

    ¡°He won¡¯t hurt us. Miles is a friend.¡±

    He tried to hurt me now. Hurt you.

    ¡°He was helping. He¡¯s a healer, no danger.¡±

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    Seamus gestured towards her bandages, watching as Lilith glanced at her right arm and abdomen. She touched her forehead, feeling the white cloth wrapped around her head injury. Lilith seemed hesitant as she looked at Miles and Seamus with skeptical eyes before faintly sighing. She turned to Seamus, her hands forming three simple signs.

    I trust you.

    Seamus sighed in relief, feeling his body slowly lose its tension as he gestured for Miles to come close. ¡°She won¡¯t bite, but I think you should go easy with the cleansing alcohol.¡±

    Miles knelt back at Lilith¡¯s side, his hands still cautiously hovering over the gash on her right arm. Miles turned to face Lilith, looking for a reaction as he wet his rag with the cleansing alcohol. Her eyes were still trained on the mercenary, but she didn¡¯t lunge at him when he cleaned her light wounds. Seamus watched the entire process, his eyes occasionally glancing over at Lowe, who was currently digging through some barrels and crates in the abandoned vault.

    ¡°Here. It¡¯ll help you get your strength back,¡± Seamus offered Lilith his waterskin full of Horcus tea, which was most definitely cold by now. She seemed to hesitate for a moment but eventually accepted the tea. Seamus unclipped his cloak and handed it over to the berserker afterward. ¡°It should keep you warm. The vault doesn¡¯t really have heating.¡±

    As Lilith rested, Seamus looked around the vault since he had nothing else to do. He walked around the empty place, his eyes glancing at the discarded crates and barrels.

    ¡°More Valdoras,¡± Seamus realized aloud, noticing more of the blue coins scattered on the ground and some actual gold pieces. He knelt down to pick them up, his eyes glancing around his badly lit surroundings.

    ¡°Found it!¡± Lowe¡¯s voice sounded out from across the room, followed by the sound of something humming. Torches suddenly lit up in the room, surprising Seamus and the others as warm light illuminated parts of the vault. In the end, however, only a few of the torches lit up, leaving most spots darker than some. ¡°Dammit! Something¡¯s really messing with the ley lines here!¡± Lowe shouted frustratingly.

    Seamus didn¡¯t pay attention. His eyes looked over the now-lit vault. From what he could see, it was most definitely not empty. There were crates of weapons and clothing, works of art leaning against the stone wall, and even statues depicting ancient heroes. Seamus walked up to one statue depicting a woman in striking armor. He looked down at the name, reading the name aloud.

    ¡°Jenis Kord. Bane of Dorinfal.¡± He raised an eyebrow, the name familiar to him.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of her,¡± Miles said behind Seamus, stepping up to the statue beside him. ¡°She fought and killed the Lord of Dorinfal centuries ago. Back during the Second Great War.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a half lie,¡± Lowe called out, his head buried in a crate. ¡°She had only fought him. The killing blow was from someone else.¡± The gnome pulled his head out of the crate. ¡°And unlike the stories, it wasn¡¯t as heroic as the bards may make it seem. The point of the battle was attrition, and it had ended in a bloodbath according to the old records.¡± The gnome sighed as he shook his head, deciding to focus his attention on another barrel nearby.

    Seamus took one more look at the statue of Jenis Kord, her name still bothering him.

    ¡®Could¡¯ve sworn I heard the name before,¡¯ Seamus idly thought before he headed off to look over the rest of the vault¡¯s contents. He picked through old swords and maces, even trying out one of the nearby round shields.

    ¡°Too wieldy,¡± Seamus muttered after a couple of practice swings and stances. He placed it back before glancing over at the paintings by the wall, which were obscured by darkness. Seamus stepped up to them, his attached spell crystal illuminating them. Seamus stared at the first of the paintings, an old one judging by the thick layer of dust.

    Still, he could make out the painting, which depicted a knight in what looked like burnt and destroyed armor, flames engulfing it all as he stood defiantly. He held a sword in his right hand while raising his left hand into a clenched fist. Seamus wasn¡¯t sure if the marks on his exposed left arm were glowing symbols or just specks of dust. He looked down at the small name, which was worn out to where it only read:

    ¡®G¡ªald ¡ªrd, Knigh- of E-bers.¡¯

    Seamus frowned, deciding to move on to the next painting. This one depicted an armed woman in a white cloak, her hair pale blond, and her eyes bright green.

    ¡°Guardian of Azurvale,¡± Seamus read in a whisper before moving to the next painting.

    ¡°Tyok, Kasan.¡± This one depicted a scene of a beautiful forest filled with uniquely shaped trees, complete with blossoms floating around the scenery. It was unlike anything he had seen in Valenfrost.

    ¡°The Deserts of Areno.¡± The next painting took a different approach, a direct opposite of the previous one. It was a bright desert, golden sand dunes going for miles as a cloaked man rode on a strange-looking horse with humps in the foreground. Seamus looked over at the next paintings, which were illuminated a little better by one of the nearby torches. Upon looking at the next set of paintings, Seamus raised an eyebrow.

    The first of them was one of the bigger ones, even beating the young man in height alone. It depicted an older man with coarse gray-streaked hair, accompanied by a matching beard and sea-green eyes. He wore a cloak over his battle-worn armor, a pin depicting a bear¡¯s paw, a staple symbol for his clan. Seamus frowned at the painting of his father, his hand brushing some of the dust of the nameplate.

    ¡°Yorn Halvorson. Age 550,¡± Seamus murmured. His father¡¯s painting brought back memories of Seamus¡¯ training. Back when both Yorn and Roger had instructed the young Halvorson on how to fight quickly and avoid fatal strikes. They were burned into his mind and body, his own muscles aching with the memory of those long mornings of repeating the same maneuver over and over until the boy dropped from exhaustion. Seamus frowned and gave the painting one more look before he walked off to the next portrait.

    He stopped dead in his tracks as he focused on the next painting, a lump forming in his throat as his eyes focused on the painted canvas. The depicted woman had red hair that was beautifully braided, held together by the golden pin that represented her family and clan. Her blue eyes were inviting and bright, the paint strokes somehow reflecting the life that beheld them. She had a warm, soothing smile that somehow changed the atmosphere of any room she walked in. Her laugh back then would have made anyone¡¯s day, even warming the stony heart of her husband. She wore modest clothing, including a gold necklace that had been passed down for generations.

    Seamus wiped his eyes, feeling how that lump grew harder to swallow. He soon forced his sight away from the painting, deciding that he wanted no more reminders.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Miles asked from afar, his attention on some of the discarded weapons.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Seamus responded, taking a deep breath as he looked at the rest of the paintings. Most of them depicted portraits of people Seamus knew well, except for one. The last of them caught his attention, intriguing the young man to come closer. Seamus stared at the painting of the man, feeling an air of recognition coming from the portrait.

    It depicted a man with pale blond hair and a beard that was relatively messy except for the braided rattail that extended long past his shaggy hair before resting on his shoulder. He had dark green eyes that stared at the viewer, his gaze piercing almost. His gear was light as well, with no fancy steel armor nor rune-imprinted weapons. He wore only a thick gambeson and light chainmail, a small wolf insignia pinned on his belt. What was even stranger about this particular man was that while most of the men depicted in the portraits were frowning or had neutral expressions, this man was grinning. It was almost as if he was enjoying himself despite his obvious battle scars and worn-out gear.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Seamus wondered, not even recalling a single memory of this man. He looked at the nameplate, which was mostly scratched out. The only word he could make out was ¡®Blyth.¡¯

    ¡®Perhaps he served with my father before I was born.¡¯

    Seamus frowned as he felt unease at looking at the portrait for too long. He turned his back on the painting, deciding to ignore it as he headed off to where Lowe was.

    ¡°Did you find your artifact yet?¡± Seamus asked as he kicked a small empty vase.

    ¡°It¡¯s in here somewhere,¡± Lowe muttered as he dug into a barrel, throwing out old bottles and pieces of art. Seamus sighed, rubbing the back of his head as he looked around the poorly lit vault. It was much fuller than he had initially expected. Most of the items here were worth more than their weight in gold.

    ¡°Why would he leave all this stuff here?¡± Seamus wondered aloud, his eyes soon focusing on something glinting in the darkness. He made his way to the mystery object, his spell crystal¡¯s light illuminating the way.

    ¡°What in the...¡± Seamus muttered as he came face to face with a set of light steel armor. After wiping some of the dust off it, Seamus could see how the metal still shone in the magical blue light. It reflected the young man¡¯s visage on its smooth breastplate, displaying his dirty and tired self. Seamus noticed some engraved runes bordering the edges of the pieces of armor. They were lifeless, however, devoid of the magical enchantments they once held. Seamus focused on the breastplate once more, his eyebrow raising as he noticed the red wax seal stamped on its heart.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s symbol,¡± Seamus realized, his eyes widening as he recognized the image of the seven-pointed sun. He had heard countless stories about his father but never really thought much of them outside of the fact that most of the stories were filled with the over-exaggerated nonsense that bards had made up for drama and entertainment. He had never truly expected his father to take on Lumen Knights.

    ¡®Maybe it was a gift or something,¡¯

    Seamus tried to find the reasoning in it, but knew very well that it was probably not the case. He could see scratches and visible marks on the steel, as well as faint signs of blood on the armor. The person who had owned this set had definitely gone through a battle with it. Seamus picked up its helmet, feeling its weight a bit before placing it back.

    ¡°This is insane,¡± he muttered, his eyes passing over the red wax seal once more.

    ¡°Seamus! I think I found it!¡± Lowe¡¯s voice sounded out, catching the young man¡¯s attention. Seamus hurried over to the gnome, who was digging through one of the wooden crates.

    ¡°This is where your artifact is?¡± Seamus started before he caught a blue glint in the box. He raised an eyebrow, kneeling as he got a better view of the case¡¯s contents. He blinked, watching as Lowe dug through what looked like a sea of Valdoras and gold. ¡°There has to be at least a thousand gold¡¯s worth in this case!¡± Seamus exclaimed, his hand moving to grab one of the blue coins.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what¡¯s important,¡± Lowe muttered, struggling as he searched through the case of coins. The gnome grinned, his hands slowly moving as he pulled out an object from the crate.

    It was a small gold and ivory statue of a cat, detailed perfectly to the whiskers and raised paw. It seemed to smile as it sat, almost as if it was mocking the confused young man. Seamus stared at the object, unsure of what to feel.

    ¡°This¡­ is the artifact?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± Lowe exclaimed, his hand brushing some dust off of the small statue, revealing a runic symbol on its back, nonmagical from the look of it. ¡°I know I sound crazy, but this artifact here is responsible for a lot of death and suffering. We must keep it out of the wrong hands.¡±

    Seamus frowned, looking at the statue once more. It looked like something he would see in a trader¡¯s tent back in Vindis. ¡°It¡¯s a cat statue¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s disguised like a cat statue to fool anyone looking for the real thing. I¡¯ll explain when we get out of here. I can dispel this thing¡¯s illusion then and¡ª¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t,¡± Miles suddenly interrupted. The follower was at where the vault ended, darkness obscuring most of the wall. ¡°You were thinking of using this door to leave, correct?¡± Miles asked, turning over to the two men.

    ¡°Yes¡­¡± Lowe answered slowly, his brow furrowing as he stared at Miles. The mercenary sighed, his hand sliding off of the wall.

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother then. The exit had caved in at some point. So unless we¡¯re as strong as a band of merry orcs. We¡¯re stuck here.

 B.2 Chapter 33: The Escape

    Dahlia looked up at the darkening sky, a small frown on her face as she watched dark plumes of smoke rise and dissipate into the clouds.

    ¡°I still think I should help,¡± she voiced, her hands clenched into fists.

    ¡°What good would that do?¡± Helen asked, yawning as she stretched. Dahlia looked down at the shackled woman resting against the mainmast, whose arms outstretched as she spoke up. ¡°You¡¯re injured, no? Judging from all those bandages, I¡¯d say you¡¯re in no condition to fight.¡±

    Dahlia almost scoffed at that. ¡°And everyone else is? James took on a full-on strike from one of those things back on that island, and somehow, he¡¯s still good to fight another day?¡± Dahlia shook her head, gritting her teeth as she crossed her arms.

    ¡°Fair point,¡± Helen responded lightly, shrugging as she looked off at the waves of the sea. ¡°However¡­ Let¡¯s say you go and try to help. Where will you go?¡± Helen asked, raising an eyebrow as she turned to the shaman.

    Dahlia met the other woman¡¯s gaze, her brow furrowing as she tried to come up with an answer. ¡°I¡¯d obviously go to the town they were heading towards.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure they¡¯ll even be there?¡± Helen asked, her hand gesturing towards the sky. ¡°There¡¯s more than one plume of smoke,¡± she pointed out.

    Dahlia clenched her jaw tightly in frustration. ¡°Then I¡¯ll try to track them. There has to be more than one¨C¡±

    ¡°Stop. Just stop,¡± Helen groaned, shaking her head as she rubbed her eyes. ¡°Look, I¡¯m going to be honest since you do not understand me clearly. Going out there and trying to find them is a stupid idea. You will be killed by either whatever lies beyond those trees or simply die of the freezing cold when night falls. Understand?

    ¡°You could¡¯ve said ¡®fuck it¡¯ and went with them back when they left, but you didn¡¯t. That is your own fault for not trusting yourself enough to go. Or maybe, just maybe, you knew you couldn¡¯t go because James and that crazed follower were right about you being too injured to go on. Whatever the reason, it doesn¡¯t matter anymore. You made your own choice, and now you¡¯re feeling guilty about it,¡± the marauder ranted. There was a breath of awkward silence, the only sound around two being that of the waves and the drunken conversations between Dimitri and his crew.

    Dahlia bit her tongue, unsure of what to say or respond with. ¡°What do you suggest I do, then?¡±

    ¡°My advice? Do whatever you feel like.¡± Helen shifted her body to get comfortable in her spot. ¡°Follow your gut or listen to your friends, whatever works. You can go off and help your friends for all I care. Or you can stay here, rest your wounds and mind. It all centers on the trust you have in James and that coward Seamus. Stop worrying for them and mind your own troubles,¡± Helen muttered, closing her eyes as she rested back.

    Dahlia looked down at the ex-marauder with what felt like envy. Helen knew what she wanted and needed¡ªthere was no worry in the world.

    ¡®Whatever I feel like¡­¡¯

    Dahlia repeated the words of advice in her thoughts, her eyes looking back at the plumes of smoke rising in the distance. Dahlia took a deep breath, her back resting against the wooden mast of the ship. She slowly slid down to the deck, her eyes closing as she rested her head back.

    ¡®I trust you, James.¡¯ She thought, doing her best to clear her mind as she rested.

    <hr>

    James watched as Edmund adjusted the sheathed broadsword on his back, his hands angling the scabbard.

    ¡°Where¡¯d you even find this?¡± The young mercenary asked. ¡°I thought I would never see this beautiful thing again.¡±

    ¡°Silas showed us to a tent where they kept the stolen items from Aldren. I guess they also kept the stuff they stole from prisoners,¡± James explained, stifling a yawn as he looked around the deck. He could see how the recently freed prisoners conversed with each other, some of them even embracing.

    ¡®It¡¯s good to know that we actually saved some people today¡­ Even if we couldn¡¯t help them all.¡¯

    James shivered as he recalled the palisade¡¯s decorations.¡¯ He caught one of the freed prisoners giving a dirty look over to the other side of the deck, where Silas and his orcs conversed. Silas had freed around four of his own kind, most of them relatively friendly towards James and his companions. Still, James could see how the people seemed to hold a grudge against the orcs despite Silas helping with their freedom.

    ¡®You can¡¯t expect them to be on good terms just because they helped free each other,¡¯ Faust pointed out, prompting a response from James.

    ¡®Makes sense. I doubt I¡¯d feel any different if I were in their shoes.¡¯

    Archibald walked into view, making his way to the young man as he adjusted his sheathed rapier. ¡°Where is the rest of everyone? I¡¯ve just noticed that Seamus and Miles aren¡¯t with you,¡± the elf pointed out, his question making Edmund perk up.

    ¡°Yeah, Haggard, too. Where are they?¡± The other mercenary asked.

    ¡°Seamus and Miles got separated from us after that fight in the clearing. I¡¯ve thought about going after them, but I trust Seamus to keep himself out of harm¡¯s way. As for Miles¡­ Well, I have a feeling he¡¯s fine,¡± James explained.

    ¡°What about Haggard?¡± Edmund asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°He went off to make a distraction after we got into the camp. Gave us time to free you guys. Although¡­¡± James slowly trailed off, his eyes turning to the camp nearby. He noticed how the flames of the distant fire were slowly growing as more smoke piled into the sky. It created a rolling blanket of darkness that covered the orange light of the setting sun.

    ¡®This doesn¡¯t feel right¡­¡¯

    As he stared out at the encampment, the young man felt a small tingle of cold running down his spine.

    ¡°Silas!¡± James called to the orc, turning back to meet his gaze. ¡°How long until you can get this ship sailing?¡± He asked, watching how Silas pondered for a bit.

    ¡°Half an hour, give or take¡­ Why?¡±

    ¡°Get working on getting this ship out of here thirty minutes from now. I¡¯m going to get a friend. If I don¡¯t return, leave without me.¡± James grabbed his round shield off the floor, strapping it to his left arm as he turned to the bridge.

    ¡°Wait! You can¡¯t seriously go out there by yourself?¡± Bjorn called out, running over to James as the young man fixed his steel helm on his head.

    ¡°Haggard is still out there,¡± James pointed out.

    ¡°He can handle himself!¡± The dwarf argued.

    ¡°It¡¯s not just that,¡± James muttered. ¡°Something isn¡¯t right. I haven¡¯t seen a single other orc outside of this longship. Don¡¯t you think that¡¯s strange? I think something might¡¯ve happened to Haggard.¡± James turned back to the boarding platform that connected the longship to land. Just as he was about to leave, Bjorn¡¯s voice suddenly shouted out to him,

    ¡°I¡¯m coming with you then!¡±

    James stopped in his tracks, swiveling back to see the dwarf making his way to the bridge, his hands fixing on his helmet once more. ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m damn sure! No way I¡¯m letting you get all the glory!¡± Bjorn complained.

    James felt a smile grow on his face as the dwarf stepped onto the bridge, making his way towards the camp ahead.

    ¡°Edmund, do you still have that rune Dahlia gave to you?¡± James asked, watching the young mercenary¡¯s eyes widen, his hand moving to one of his pockets.

    ¡°Yeah! They actually didn¡¯t take it from me. I guess they didn¡¯t search hard enough.¡± Edmund pulled the small rune stone, his hand tossing it to James, who caught it with ease.

    ¡°You¡¯re not coming with us?¡± Bjorn asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°No thanks. Those bastards hurt my leg good back when they caught me,¡± the mercenary revealed.

    ¡°Archibald?¡± James asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll stay behind. Thank you very much. Had enough of the orcs for one day,¡± Archibald commented, crossing his arms as he sat back. ¡°No offense to all of you over there.¡± He gestured, glancing over at the other orcs.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine by me. You must be here to ensure that Frostbite knows the ship is friendly. That is if we don¡¯t make it back,¡± James responded, smiling as he waved off the elf.

    With that, James and Bjorn set off into the encampment, heading their way to the north.

    <hr>

    BANG

    BANG

    BANG

    There it was again, the sound growing louder with every impact.

    BANG

    BANG

    BANG

    Seamus sighed, glancing at the vault doors as they shook violently, the torch near the entrance flickering on and off. ¡°They¡¯re getting close to knocking them down,¡± he muttered before he looked over at Lowe. The gnome was sitting against the stone wall, his hand clenching at the cat statue.

    ¡°Stupid! Stupid! I shouldn¡¯t have convinced you to come here¡­. This was a huge mistake¡­ A huge mistake!¡± The gnome was cursing at himself, hanging his head as he dropped the gold statue. ¡°We¡¯re all going to die now. There¡¯s no escaping¡­¡±

    Seamus frowned as he looked at the hopeless gnome. ¡°We can still get out of here.¡± The young man looked back at the poorly lit vault, his eyes examining its contents. ¡°There has to be something that can help. Maybe another entrance? A bomb or something? Runes?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing,¡± Miles¡¯ voice sounded out. ¡°I¡¯ve checked most of the stuff here. The only useful things I found are a couple of agility potions and an old ignitor.¡± The follower stood up from his search, his head turning as he examined the vault.

    ¡®No way out of here while a group of bloodthirsty orcs are currently bashing down the only entrance here. We¡¯re really fucked, aren¡¯t we?¡¯

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Seamus could feel how his heart beat in his chest, an inkling of fear manifesting in the young man.

    ¡°I have an idea,¡± Miles suddenly spoke, catching the attention of both Seamus and the gnome. The ex-follower was holding what looked to be the steel helmet from the armor stand Seamus had admired earlier.

    ¡°What kind of idea?¡± Seamus asked. He raised an eyebrow as he focused on the mercenary¡¯s other hand, which held one of the agility potions he had mentioned earlier.

    Miles turned his head towards Seamus, the young man swearing that the strange mercenary was grinning underneath his mask.

    ¡°How fast do you think you can run, Seamus?¡± He asked before he tossed the helmet to the young man. Seamus barely caught the armor, his hands gripping the steel.

    ¡°I guess if I had to answer, I¡¯m pretty light on my feet. Why do you ask? Those brutes will most likely block most of the doorway when they break through, so I doubt running is an option.¡± He looked back up at Miles, wondering how the ex-follower was going to get them out.

    ¡°It¡¯s an option. You¡¯re just not thinking about it the way I am.¡± Miles tapped at the side of his mask. ¡°Put on that armor and get yourself a weapon from the crates. They¡¯re pretty well made and better than the one you¡¯re carrying. I also need you to see if Lilith is in any fighting shape.¡± The ex-follower gestured towards the resting berserker, whose head perked up at the sound of her name.

    ¡°Why? You¡¯re not thinking of having her hold those orcs off while we run?¡± Seamus asked in suspicion.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous.¡± Miles waved off Seamus. ¡°She won¡¯t be the only one holding them off.¡±

    ¡°What? Aren¡¯t you a medic or something? You should know that¨C¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s good enough to fight,¡± Miles interrupted. ¡°She has some bruises and cuts, but judging from her old ones¡­ I¡¯m willing to bet she¡¯s been through worse.¡±

    Seamus blinked, unsure if the mercenary had a point or had lost his damn mind. He chose the latter.

    ¡°What?! You can¡¯t seriously think that she¡¯s in good enough shape to help take out those armored orcs!¡±

    ¡°We won¡¯t have to kill any of them. At least if this goes smoothly. Which probably won¡¯t.¡± Miles shrugged as he raised a steel vial with a blue ribbon, shaking it lightly. ¡°Agility potion, hold on to it,¡± he called out before tossing the vial to a confused Seamus.

    ¡°What exactly are you planning?¡± Seamus asked as he caught the vial, feeling how cold the steel was.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s not really a plan if you ask me. It¡¯s more like¡­ To put it simply¡­¡± Miles was currently struggling with one of the old barrels, pushing it onto its side before rolling it to the bulging doors.

    ¡°A tactical retreat,¡± the mercenary finished, letting out a breath of relief as he laid the barrel against the doors. Which banged loudly once more. ¡°Now, if you¡¯re done asking questions, I suggest you do your part as quickly as possible. I don¡¯t think these old doors are going to hold out much longer.¡±

    Seamus opened his mouth to ask more about this ¡®tactical retreat¡¯ but was interrupted by a loud bang from the doors. One torch flickered in response.

    ¡°Got it,¡± Seamus opted to murmur instead, his eyes turning to the berserker woman, who was currently watching the doors with a confused look. With little of a choice, Seamus made his way to the bandaged woman. ¡°Lilith!¡± He called out, his hands signing to the redhead as he caught her attention.

    ¡°Do you think you can help?¡±

    Lilith stared at Seamus¡¯ hands, raising an eyebrow as she raised her hands and slowly signed to the young man.

    How?

    ¡°Green bastards coming in soon. Miles needs help.¡±

    Can we kill them all?

    ¡°No. We have to escape from them. Fight through them.¡±

    Seamus could see how Lilith hesitated. Her green eyes glared over at Miles as the man barricaded the doors. She turned to Seamus, her hands signing quickly.

    If you stay safe, I will help.

    ¡°I promise.¡±

    Lilith stared at Seamus¡¯ raised sign of promise, her eyes seeming as if lost for a moment before she collected herself. With little of another sign, Lilith made her way to the doors, where her fallen axes were laid out. Seamus frowned as he watched her before reminding himself that he needed to armor up.

    ¡®Maybe I should get myself a weapon from one of those crates¡­¡¯

    Seamus¡¯ gaze settled on the crate of assorted swords, maces, and axes. He looked down at his own sword, his hand unsheathing the blade. It was a gift from Kate Rowan, a thank you for saving her that day in Yorktown. He could still remember their conversation.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°Are you sure? This is a nice sword.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure of it! It¡¯s a sword from the old shop before it went up in flames. My father and I could never sell it due to the price.¡±

    ¡°Then I really think I shouldn¡¯t have it! This is too much.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense! You saved me, Seamus Falken. This is the very least I can do to show my appreciation.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­ Alright. Thank you. I¡¯ll keep it well-maintained!¡±

    ¡°Good. That¡¯s good. Be safe out there, Seamus, I hope you find your peace soon. Hel, I hope we all do.¡±

    </blockquote>

    Seamus pondered at the memory, his hands sheathing the blade. It might not be as well made as the ones in Yorn¡¯s armory, not as sharp or durable, but it was something that reminded him of what was left for him. His only home, his friends, and most importantly, his fate.

    ¡°This is pointless,¡± a voice softly spoke out, barely audible to Seamus. The young man perked up, his head swiveling to see the source. It was Lowe, who was still curled up by the wall, the cat statue on the floor. Frowning, the young man reached the distressed gnome, kneeling down as he picked up the golden cat.

    ¡°We¡¯re all dead. Dead,¡± Lowe murmured, shaking his head.

    ¡°Lowe.¡± The young man sighed, placing the cat in the gnome¡¯s hands. Lowe stared at the ¡®artifact,¡¯ his head turning to Seamus. ¡°I¡¯m going to need you to get yourself together right about now,¡± Seamus said in a whisper.

    ¡°Why? Just because that chaos follower told you so?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Seamus¡¯s voice was quiet and soft. ¡°It¡¯s because I need you to.¡± His words gained a slight tremble of fear. ¡°Lowe, let me tell you something. I¡¯m fucking terrified right now. Probably more than you.¡± He looked to the doors, watching as Miles fiddled with one barrel. ¡°This plan will probably kill us both, and I can see why you might not want to take the risk. Because of everything you¡¯ve been through. Because you probably have nothing to go back to.¡±

    Seamus looked back at Lowe, his hands gesturing to himself. ¡°But look at me. Despite my fears, I¡¯m willing to take that risk. It¡¯s because I have something to come back to. I have friends counting on me to come back. I have a home that accepts me.¡± He slowly extended a hand to Lowe, watching the gnome stare at him. ¡°I want the same for you because you¡¯re all that¡¯s left of my old family. My father would want it.¡±

    The gnome seemed to stare at the young man¡¯s hand for what seemed like forever, despite it being only a couple of seconds. With little of an argument, Lowe accepted Seamus¡¯ hand.

    ¡°Just to clarify, your father never cared much for me,¡± he muttered.

    Seamus smiled, helping Lowe back on his feet. ¡°I doubt it. He never told me or my mother about the vault¡¯s location.¡±

    ¡°Ha! That old bastard loved his secrets.¡± Lowe chuckled, clutching the gold cat in his arms as Seamus returned the laugh. ¡°Thank you for that bit of hope. What would you have me do to help, Seamus?¡± Lowe asked, grinning at the young man. Seamus glanced at the set of armor, shamefully avoiding eye contact as he gave a nervous smile.

    ¡°I might need some help with putting on the armor.¡± Seamus embarrassingly gestured towards the steel set. Lowe glanced over at the set, rubbing at his beard.

    ¡°It looks bulky, doesn¡¯t it? Like it was made for a much more¡­ uh¡­ meatier build,¡± Lowe pointed out, demonstrating by flexing his arms.

    ¡°Got it,¡± the young man sighed. ¡°I just need to wear it for the time being. I¡¯m not looking to keep it on for long.¡±

    Lowe nodded to that, turning to the armor set. ¡°We can do without a couple of pieces. We can make it work.¡±

    ¡°Good, then let¡¯s get at it. Not much time left,¡± Seamus muttered, the sound of banging getting louder behind them. Both the young man and elderly gnome quickly got to work, removing Seamus¡¯ pieces of leather armor, a reminder of Yorktown¡¯s siege. Seamus watched as the stained leather dropped to the floor, leaving the young man in his long-sleeved tunic and chainmail shirt, which only extended to his shoulders and low collar.

    Seamus and Lowe soon worked on putting his greaves, strapping the pieces on before moving to his thigh armor and padding. ¡°Any discomfort?¡± Lowe asked, knocking on the piece of metal as Seamus moved his legs around.

    ¡°Not as much as I thought there would be,¡± Seamus realized. Before long, both men worked on the breastplate, ensuring it fitted just right. Seamus was about to ask Lowe a question before the gnome suddenly whacked his chest with the blunt end of a nearby spear, the surprise making the young man jump.

    ¡°What was that?!¡±

    ¡°Just testing. Did you feel anything?¡±

    ¡°No¡­¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Lowe smiled, dropping the spear before stepping onto the crate he was using for the added height. After tightening and loosening certain straps, Lowe moved to Seamus¡¯ arms and shoulders. It wasn¡¯t long until Lowe fitted on the rest of the armor, despite ditching a couple of the pieces, mainly since they wouldn¡¯t fit the young man. In the end, Seamus finally donned the Lumen Knight armor, even if it was partial.

    ¡°How does it feel?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty flexible,¡± Seamus responded by rotating his arms a bit before moving his torso as he tested its limits. ¡°It feels like it was made for someone bigger, but I think it¡¯ll do for the moment.¡± Seamus looked down at the nearby helmet, his gauntlet moving to grab at it. The young man finally completed the armor set, his vision obscuring as he secured the helmet on his head.

    ¡°Can you see well?¡± Lowe asked.

    ¡°Barely. The field of view is atrocious,¡± Seamus commented before opening the helmet visor.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to get used to it unless you want your face speared in by an orc,¡± Miles called out to Seamus, the strange man walking up to the two. ¡°We should hurry; those orcs should get through any minute now.¡± Miles gestured towards the bulging doors, which seemed about ready to drop. Seamus could see how Lilith backed away from the doors, her feet bringing her closer to the group.

    ¡°Lowe, do you think you can get these torches off? Just like how you got them on?¡± The ex-follower asked.

    ¡°I can. Why?¡± The gnome gave Miles a strange look. The mercenary turned to the torches around the vault, his hand gesturing for the candlelight spell ball to come to him.

    ¡°Because we¡¯re going to ambush the bastards as soon as they get in. Then make our escape while they¡¯re stunned,¡± Miles explained. ¡°For that to work, however, we need complete darkness in here.¡±

    Lowe rubbed his chin, nodding as he turned to one of the dark spots in the vault. ¡°I¡¯ll be back then. Don¡¯t snuff out your Candlelight spell while I¡¯m gone.¡± Miles nodded as he watched the gnome head off, the mercenary turning towards Seamus.

    ¡°Do you think you can run with that on?¡± Miles asked, his hand reaching into his pockets to take out an agility potion.

    ¡°I¡¯m confident I can. If I don¡¯t trip on any rocks on the way out,¡± Seamus answered honestly.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope not. Here, give this to Lilith. I can get myself out of a situation pretty easily. However, I doubt she¡¯ll be able to run far with that wound at her side.¡±

    Seamus accepted the steel vial just as the torches went out in the vault, leaving the group with nothing but their spell crystals and Miles¡¯ candlelight spell. Seamus turned to Lilith, watching as the woman backed into the safety of Seamus¡¯ spell crystal¡¯s light. The young man tapped her shoulder lightly, his hands signing as Lilith jumped in surprise.

    Take this.

    Seamus signed, watching as Lilith cautiously accepted the agility potion, sniffing at the wax seal.

    ¡°It¡¯s a helpful drink. Makes you faster,¡± Seamus explained as he pulled out his own. Lilith stared at the young man with a confused look, still cautious about the potion. Seamus sighed, using his teeth to break the wax seal of his potion before downing the contents of the vial in one go. The agility potion tasted like dusty blueberries, with a hint of medicinal bitterness in it. Still, Seamus had no trouble swallowing the potion. At first, there was nothing noticeable, at least not until a couple of seconds later.

    ¡®Gods!¡¯

    Seamus felt as if electricity had run through his veins, his adrenaline pumping as he felt his sore body lose all of its tiredness. The potion¡¯s effect felt as if it was a lightning bolt that had struck him. He watched Lilith do the same as him, her teeth biting off the wax seal and chewing it before spitting it out in disgust. She sniffed at the contents of the vial before downing it in the same fashion as Seamus. Just like him, she seemed to be normal a couple seconds after drinking the potion before her body suddenly tensed up, her green eyes gaining a tint of blue.

    ¡°Bit of a rush, isn¡¯t it?¡± Miles asked, his hand pulling at the short sword on his back. ¡°Better make the best of it. It¡¯s only going to last you an hour. Half an hour if those potions are as old as I think they are,¡± Miles explained, his other hand grabbing at what looked like an old ignitor. Lowe soon arrived at the group, panting as Miles gestured towards the spell crystals on Seamus and Lowe.

    ¡°Break those crystals now and get ready to run,¡± he ordered, the two men doing as asked. Seamus stomped on his crystal, its light sparking out before Lowe smashed his, leaving Miles¡¯ candlelight spell as the only source of light. He felt as the gnome climbed on his back, feeling how Lowe held on, similar to how he did with Miles. Seamus signed a couple of words of advice to Lilith, hoping she would follow them.

    Follow Miles.

    ¡°Everyone ready?¡± Before anyone could answer, the doors suddenly burst open, letting in weak torchlight from the other side and the distant shouts of orcs. Seamus couldn¡¯t understand a damn thing, but it didn¡¯t really matter to him.

    ¡®I really hope this works¡­¡¯

    Seamus watched as Miles snapped his fingers, the candlelight spell finally snuffing out, leaving them all in darkness. The young man pulled down the visor on his helmet, hoping he would be able to see his way out once he started running. He watched as the doors finally came down, breaking some barrels in the process.

    Seamus soon heard a small noise, one that went ¡®chk¡¯ before being followed by a small, almost unnoticeable spark.

 B.2 Chapter 34: Clash

    James peeked from behind the tent, his eyes scanning the area ahead.

    ¡°Anything?¡± Bjorn asked, prodding James with a poke from his ax.

    ¡°Hey!¡± James hissed, waving away the dwarf¡¯s ax, rubbing at his side as he frowned. ¡°Careful with that thing,¡± he complained, sighing as he peeked back at the camp. He could see some movement by the flaming part of the camp, his eyes making out the silhouettes of panicking goblins, buckets in their hands. James could see how more of the brutes joined the initial group of goblins, carrying what looked like barrels.

    ¡°They¡¯re using water to snuff it out,¡± James muttered.

    ¡°Oof, terrible choice,¡± Bjorn commented, the dwarf peeking from the corner below James. ¡°Water is fine for normal fires, but judging from those flames I see¡­ It¡¯s definitely magical.¡±

    ¡°Wait, water can¡¯t snuff out magic fires?¡± James asked. He raised an eyebrow as he recalled the fires of Yorktown, which were caused by a combination of the torches and Fireball runes those marauders brought. The fires were only quelled by the rain that came later that night.

    ¡°Not really, just very difficult. Fireballs are a prime example of this since they¡¯re made to be waterproof. Only a certified spellcaster can snuff any fire caused by a Fireball spell. Otherwise, you¡¯ll have to wait for the flames to die out. But when it¡¯s mixed with regular fire, it can be put out,¡± Bjorn explained.

    James looked back at the dwarf, who was now moving out to the next tent, doing his best to remain unnoticed by the orcs ahead. James followed Bjorn¡¯s example, running crouched to the next hiding spot.

    ¡°So, how can you tell it¡¯s a magical fire?¡± James continued the conversation. He could feel how the temperature in the air continued to grow, making the man sweat under his steel helm.

    ¡°Look at the flames, kid. It should be obvious,¡± Bjorn replied, slowly moving to the other side of the tent¡¯s exterior. James looked back at the initial fire he spotted, squinting as he focused on the flames. James could make out the small blue sparks at the edges of the flames, subtly hiding within them.

    ¡°Huh,¡± James muttered before feeling his cloak pull him back.

    ¡°Quit your gawking and get moving,¡± Bjorn voiced, letting go of the young man¡¯s cloak. ¡°I think we¡¯re getting closer,¡± the dwarf added, sweat dotting his brow as he turned back to the next section of the encampment. Both men were nearing Haggard¡¯s initial destination, which was supposed to be at what Bjorn assumed was the tribe leader¡¯s base tent. James could see the nearby flames, which were growing closer to the forest west of the encampment.

    ¡°You think the fire will spread to the trees?¡± James asked in a whisper, turning to the dwarf.

    ¡°Not sure if I¡¯m honest. Maybe it¡¯ll burn some bushes and leave the trees alone. Then again, magical flames burn much brighter than regular fire. Good chance that a vern tree might ignite. If on the off-chance that one catches flame¡­¡± Bjorn trailed off. ¡°Best we don¡¯t find out,¡± he muttered. The dwarf peeked his head out of his hiding spot to check for any orcs. ¡°We¡¯re ready. Let¡¯s move.¡±

    The two hurried to the next group of tents; there was no sign of any orcs nearby. James felt the heat increase, the cold, hard snowy ground of the island now closer to sloshy mud. James was about to check for more of the green brutes before he was suddenly jerked away by the end of his cloak.

    ¡°Hey!¡± James complained before suddenly hearing voices.

    ¡°Where is he?!¡±

    ¡°Hell, if I know! Bastard disappeared around the tents!¡±

    ¡°Blood-Irk is going to have our heads! Dammit!¡±

    ¡°Maybe he left for the forest?¡±

    ¡°He couldn¡¯t. We have other orcs defending the walls, no way for him to escape!¡±

    James could hear the orcs arguing with each other, panic clear in their fading voices as they moved through the camp.

    ¡°They¡¯re looking for him,¡± James spoke out in a low voice, turning to Bjorn. The dwarf seemed to ignore him, peeking out to make sure the coast was clear.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to hurry before these bastards find us,¡± Bjorn muttered, his hand clenching onto his ax.

    ¡°We just have to find Haggard, and we can get the hell out of here,¡± James assured the dwarf, who sighed in response.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just hope that the bastard doesn¡¯t get himself caught before we get to him,¡± Bjorn murmured as he moved on through the group of tents, carefully hiding behind the orc¡¯s makeshift barracks. James followed behind, making sure to keep himself low enough so as not to be spotted by any nearby orcs.

    Before crossing another dirt path, James noted one of the huge steaming cauldrons he had seen from their vantage point earlier that day. The fire was still boiling its contents, steam rising from the cauldron. Upon squinting, however, he spotted something red by the edge of the pot. His eyes widened at the sight of a human-looking hand. It rested on the cauldron¡¯s lip, the skin red and raw as it sizzled against the iron. James felt himself freeze up as he caught the view of it, his mind going blank as he felt his blood run cold.

    ¡°Have you had a look over here?¡± a voice suddenly called out, followed by a response.

    ¡°Not yet, but I am still checking these tents. You can check it out if you like.¡± The orc¡¯s conversation snapped James out of his stasis, his feet forcing him to Bjorn¡¯s position.

    Once arriving, James could feel how his palms secreted with sweat, his heart beating through his chest as he rested against the tent. He felt like vomiting again, but his body refused to react, deciding only to send cold shivers throughout his body.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Bjorn asked, watching as James slid down to the ground.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± James managed out. He could feel how his body surged with cold, undeniable rage.

    ¡®They¡¯re all going to die,¡¯ Faust spoke out, his voice a terrifying calm. James¡¯ body suddenly lost heat the next moment, a freezing cold surging throughout his insides.

    ¡°James?¡± Bjorn inquired once more, his voice gaining a sense of confusion as James shivered from the sudden change of temperature.

    ¡°I said I¡¯m fine, Bjorn,¡± the young man wheezed out, almost as if he was out of breath.

    ¡®Calm the hell down!¡¯ James mentally shouted. He felt how the fingers on his left hand grew numb, more cold spreading throughout him.

    ¡®I¡¯m going to kill them all!¡¯ Faust reiterated, his emotions seeping into James¡¯ own.

    James grabbed at his chest suddenly, feeling how anger and shock mixed, causing sharp, familiar pains that coursed through his heart.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± James hissed, gritting his teeth as his left hand suddenly grabbed at his short sword¡¯s hilt, almost as if another entity was controlling it. James noted how his brain felt as if it was being stabbed, a feeling he recognized immediately.

    ¡®No¡­ Not now!¡¯

    This wasn¡¯t a good time for another memory episode, especially with the orcs nearby. James fought against the spirit, more pain coursing through his mind as he clashed with Faust. He held back the urge to scream out in pain, his right hand clenching at his left arm as he fought with himself. He could hear Bjorn say something but couldn¡¯t catch whatever the dwarf had said.

    James felt his mind clash with Faust¡¯s for the third time, his jaw clenching so tightly that it sent sharp pains throughout his skull. His body was in a limbo of hot and cold, the sudden changes making him sick as he struggled with the spirit.

    ¡®If you¡¯re going to be in my way, so be it! I¡¯ll take over your body and kill them all myself!¡¯

    Faust was more than pissed, his anger alone making James physically recoil in surprise.

    ¡®I¡¯m not going to let you kill us all! We¡¯re here for one thing! Don¡¯t be an idiot!¡¯

    James felt his body drop to the ground after the fourth clash. He couldn¡¯t even see right. His vision blurred and doubled. James fought with himself, trying his hardest not to pass out and give control to Faust. Another clash, this one making James grab at his head on instinct. The pain was getting unbearable, almost to where James would have to allow Faust to take over. Almost.

    James slammed his fists to the ground, his fingers digging into the soil. He grabbed fistfuls of dirt as he fought with the pain and heat emanating from his eyes and left hand. Despite his eyesight being next to useless, he could still make out a tall figure coming up to him, the dwarf nowhere in sight. James could feel fear mixed into his bags of emotions as he knew the orcs had caught him.

    He couldn¡¯t even muster the strength to speak as he looked up at the figure. His mind gave up as the biting cold spread up his arm and into his body, Faust¡¯s spirit seizing control. However, before the spirit could even throw James into the mindscape, the figure suddenly moved in on James. The last thing James saw before he went unconscious was an incoming fist.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    <hr>

    James was back in the mindscape, on his hands and knees, as blood dripped onto the water that covered every inch of this plane. He was currently bleeding from his nose, something he never expected to be possible in this place. James slowly picked himself up, wiping his nose and mouth as he looked at Faust, who was in the same position. James swallowed, blinking as he focused on the other man in this mindscape.

    ¡°Are you fucking insane?!¡± He shouted, feeling how his anger echoed in the infinite plane.

    ¡°I¡­ I lost myself¡­¡± Faust muttered as he slowly stood up. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to take over¨C¡±

    ¡°You killed us! You actually killed us!¡± James shouted, walking up to the Centurion in front of him. Without much of a warning, James punched Faust, the blow sending the other man back onto the floor. The water splashed in response, pain coursing throughout James¡¯ own face. Still, James wasn¡¯t focused on the pain.

    ¡°You goddamn idiot! There¡¯s no way our little struggle didn¡¯t catch the attention of an orc! Now we¡¯re knocked out, awaiting some painful fucking death all because you couldn¡¯t¡ª!¡±

    A kick to his leg interrupted James, forcing him to drop to his knees. Faust tackled James to the ground, water splashing all over as they struggled and fought. The fight started out with both sides getting in their fair amount of hits, but it soon turned one-sided. The young man had forgotten he was fighting a veteran Centurion with years of experience.

    James could feel how Faust kicked his ass, the Centurion¡¯s blows landing in his exposed areas and weak points. His defense was good enough for James to miss any meaningful punches, and his counterattacks were more than enough to nearly blind the younger man. There was no doubt that both parties were feeling the same amount of pain as each punch landed was felt by both men. Still, it didn¡¯t stop Faust from beating the young man to a bloody pulp, each blow to James¡¯ nose speckling more dark blood onto Faust¡¯s armor and face.

    James had given up at some point, letting the blows hit his now numb face. After a while, Faust had stopped, the Centurion panting heavily as he held James by the collar. James watched as Faust dropped him, the Centurion catching his breath as James lay back on the water, which was tinted with his blood.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Faust managed out, his breathing slowing down as James slowly moved to sit up. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry¡­¡± the Centurion panted out once more, looking at James with a look of shame.

    James spat into the dark waters, wiping his mouth as the pain slowly eased away. He could see how the blood in the water slowly dissipated, along with the blood on his sleeve. James touched his face, feeling his broken nose slowly mend itself. Both men caught their breath as the blood between them slowly dissipated.

    James could still feel his anger towards the spirit, his hand clenching tightly as he held back the urge to start the fight over again. Despite his need to fight back and express his rage to Faust, James instead took a couple of deep breaths, calming himself down.

    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± he suddenly expressed, his eyes breaking away from Faust. ¡°Your memories took over again¡­ Just like last time¡­¡± Although James couldn¡¯t see the Centurion, he was sure that Faust was staring at him. ¡°Still, I can¡¯t help but keep blaming you for it all. No matter how hard I try, I can¡¯t help but be absolutely pissed.¡±

    The Centurion was silent, the only sound between the two men being the heavy breathing they emitted.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± James suddenly muttered, breaking the silence. ¡°I know you can¡¯t control your emotions sometimes, and I have no right to blame you for the things you saw.¡± The young man touched his face again, the familiar feeling of blood gone from his skin. It had fully mended itself, his face now the same as it was before. ¡°But I still can¡¯t ignore the fact that you had put us at risk. Right now, we¡¯re out there, passed out for god knows how much longer.¡±

    As much as the young man wanted to retake his body, it was nigh impossible. He couldn¡¯t force himself to wake, no matter how hard he tried. It was all left to Bjorn to drag his body to safety and hope for the best.

    Both men were silent once again, with James looking down at his hands. He clenched them hard enough to feel his nails digging into his palms.

    ¡°It¡¯s strange how we can feel in this mindscape,¡± James whispered, recalling how real the scuffle between him and Faust felt.

    ¡°Everything feels real here,¡± Faust responded, sighing as he looked up at the dark sky. James frowned, his head raising as he looked over at Faust. The Centurion had been stuck in this place ever since James and he fused, which had resulted in a battle of wills that ended in a truce.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been stuck here for days. Possibly longer in your perspective,¡± James thought aloud. He recalled how time in the mindscape was weirdly warped, the time in here passing much more quickly than out there. The fact that Faust hadn¡¯t completely broken and tried to take James¡¯ body much earlier was a testament to his mental fortitude.

    ¡°It¡¯s less lonely than you think,¡± Faust replied, brushing back his hair as he sighed. ¡°I have my memories to keep me company.¡± The Centurion had his eyes cast downwards as he spoke, his hands resting on his knees. ¡°I have the view of the outside world through your eyes and access to your memories from before you came to my world,¡± Faust admitted, a slight pause in his words as he looked at James. ¡°Of course, I also have you to speak to.¡±

    James was silent, unsure of what to think or say. Or both, since he couldn¡¯t really think in this place.

    ¡°You really got the short end of the stick.¡±

    ¡°We both got short ends. The difference is that your end is longer than mine.¡± Faust waved off James¡¯ words as if they meant nothing to him. ¡°Still, I¡¯d rather have you at the wheel. Even if we switched places, I would still be an outsider. I barely recognize this world now compared to what it was centuries ago.¡± The Centurion shook his head.

    ¡°No, I already had my chance at a full life centuries ago. You¡¯re still young, with new friends and a new home. An entire person with his own soul. I¡¯m just a shadow of Faust Desimir, destined to relive his memories.¡± Faust slowly stood up, groaning to himself. ¡°I just hope my outburst didn¡¯t doom us to a useless death.¡±

    Faust then did something unexpected. He put his hand out to James, whose eyes stared at the Centurion for a good few seconds. The young man sighed before accepting the extended hand, moving to pull himself up.

    ¡°I¡¯m still pissed at you,¡± James muttered as he stood back up. Despite their fight and current state of bad terms, James still had to deal with Faust for as long as he lived, lest he and the spirit end up killing each other.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect less,¡± Faust responded, a hint of a smile at the edge of his lips.

    Suddenly, the mindscape shook, a distant voice sounding out in the oblivion that was the sky.

    ¡°James? James, can you hear me?¡± The young man raised an eyebrow, doing his best to pinpoint the familiar voice. As the distant voice grew louder, James could sense how his body felt again. It was a feeling that subconsciously told him he could easily retake control again. He took one more look at Faust, who waved for him to go. James went towards the voices with no departing words, retaking his body once more.

    <hr>

    James slowly came back into the waking world, groaning softly as he looked around. His vision blurred as he sat up.

    ¡°There he is. Are you doing alright now?¡± A familiar voice sounded off, which caught James¡¯ attention. James blinked a couple more times as he squinted at the source of the voice. It was the same tall figure from before, the one that had knocked him out.

    ¡°Haggard?¡± James muttered, his eyesight finally clearing as he looked up at the naturally grinning man.

    ¡°It worked, somehow,¡± a disgruntled voice spoke out, making James turn to see Bjorn nearby, guarding the entrance of a tent. James blinked once more, looking at his surroundings. They were currently inside a random tent, rags and cots spread out on the dirt ground.

    ¡°What¡­ What happened?¡± James managed out, his hand touching a sensitive spot at his temple, right where Haggard had punched him.

    ¡°I had heard your babbling and commotion from my hiding spot, so I went to see if I could help. However, instead of finding a fight, I found you thrashing around, seizing up, almost like you were fighting yourself,¡± Haggard explained. ¡°And your eyes¡­¡±

    ¡°They were glowing,¡± Bjorn finished with a mutter, the dwarf looking at James with a curious look. ¡°I guess the shaman wasn¡¯t bullshitting when she said you were trapped in with another spirit.¡±

    ¡°Another spirit?¡± Haggard asked, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± James groaned, moving to stand as Haggard snapped his eyesight between both men.

    ¡°So no one clued me in on a secret? Especially one like this.¡± The older man turned to James, his eyes looking down at the young man with a glint of curiosity. ¡°I knew there was something different about you, but this is entirely something else.¡±

    ¡°I can tell you the entire story when we leave,¡± James reiterated, his eyes looking for his missing steel helm.

    ¡°Leave? Have you not seen the orcs guarding the walls? Besides, we can¡¯t retreat yet,¡± Haggard pointed out, causing confusion in James as he looked towards Bjorn. The dwarf blinked, realizing that he hadn¡¯t clued in Haggard about the ship.

    ¡°Right. Forgot to tell him about it,¡± Bjorn muttered.

    ¡°Tell me about what?¡±

    ¡°We secured ourselves a longship with the help of some prisoners. It¡¯s waiting by the docks,¡± James explained, his hand picking up his steel helmet, which he found on the ground.

    ¡°Longship? You crazy bastards!¡± Haggard laughed, his palm impacting James¡¯ back with some force.

    ¡°We¡¯re crazy?¡± James managed out, arching his back as he felt the sting of Haggard¡¯s slap emanate across his back. ¡°Weren¡¯t you the one who nearly blew the northern encampment to kingdom come?¡± James asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Haggard raised his hands in defense. ¡°Wasn¡¯t me. Well, not exactly. I was trying to cause a fire with one of their oil barrels, but one of those bastards found me out. To make a long story short, we ended up setting all of their barrels aflame.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ve been hiding here all this time?¡± Bjorn asked.

    ¡°Yes and no,¡± Haggard responded, turning to face the dwarf now. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to kill these brutes¡¯ leader, Blood-Irk.¡± The older man raised his cloak, exposing a cut in his chainmail, a half-bandaged wound underneath it. ¡°Bastard is smarter than he looks and a lot stronger than I had expected,¡± Haggard muttered, his joyful demeanor replaced with that of contempt. ¡°He¡¯s been hunting me since before the sun disappeared over the horizon.¡± James stared at the wound, unsure if they really had a chance of taking on this orc.

    ¡®Sometimes, it''s alright to run away from a fight,¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice muttered.

    ¡®Should we?¡¯ James asked the spirit, his primary worry being that the orc would surely harm more.

    ¡®Blood-Irk will kill even more people if we die fighting him. Not to mention that we¡¯re running out of time before the longship leaves us behind,¡¯ the Centurion pointed out.

    As much as James wanted to stay and fight, he took the spirit¡¯s advice.

    ¡°We¡¯re going back to the ship and getting the hell out of here,¡± James stated, moving to grab his shield, which was resting near the tent¡¯s canvas.

    ¡°What? We¡¯re just going to leave this asshole here?¡± Haggard asked. ¡°After everything he did?¡±

    James sighed as he strapped on his shield, tightening it onto his left arm. ¡°Haggard, have you ever backed out of a fight you know you can¡¯t win?¡±

    ¡°Of course I have, but this is different! We can take him on together! We can¡ª¡±

    ¡°James has a point.¡± Bjorn interrupted, scratching at his beard. ¡°As much as I want to bash in that bastard Blood-Irk¡¯s skull, there¡¯s a good chance we¡¯ll die. I think it¡¯s best we retreat to the ship now and come back later.¡±

    ¡°Haggard,¡± James started, his gloved hand pulling his cloak off. ¡°You have two choices right now. You can try to fight Blood-Irk, possibly be killed in the process¡­ Or you can come with us and get off this island. Whatever the choice, just know that Bjorn and I are going to the ship, with or without you.¡±

    James didn¡¯t really mean the last part since Haggard was the entire reason they were there, but he didn¡¯t have enough time to argue with the other man while the longship back at the port was preparing to leave in mere minutes. Haggard seemed to mull over his options, clear hesitation painted onto his face as he silently cursed. James watched as Haggard brushed back his loose black hair before a long, tired sigh came out of him.

    ¡°Fine. The second choice.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 35: Flame Consumes All (Part One)

    Seamus ran like he had never had before, his legs burning with effort as his lungs wheezed in the freezing air. Branches and twigs whipped against his armor and body, sending stinging pain across his skin.

    ¡°Hurry! Hurry!¡± Lowe shouted, the gnome gripping onto Seamus¡¯ neck for dear life. Both men were currently in the forest, running away from the vault from which they had emerged. Nighttime was already here, with only the faint traces of the sunset in the sky. The chill of dark motivated Seamus, as his body still emanated with heat from the blast that psychopath Miles had ignited. Seamus could still feel how his shoulder stung with pain, and the pauldron that had defended it was long gone. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was blood that was running down his pants. Or perhaps it was piss that had excavated from his bladder when he had watched that brute nearly club him to death right before Lilith had brutalized the orc.

    ¡®Lilith¡­¡¯

    Seamus turned to find the berserker. She was still running alongside them, her hand holding her bleeding arm as she sprinted. Miles was still nowhere to be seen, possibly somewhere behind the group. Seamus squinted through the forest ahead, the darkness nearly absolute if it wasn¡¯t for the two moons in the night sky.

    Still, despite the light from the sister moons, Seamus hadn¡¯t spotted that protruding root on the ground. The young man felt his boot caught by the root, his body flying a good couple of feet before landing on the cold, hard, uneven ground.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Seamus cursed, gritting his teeth in pain as he tried to get up, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as he looked for the fallen gnome. Lowe was thankfully fine as the gnome slowly stood, a soft groan coming from him.

    ¡°Seamus? What happened?¡±

    ¡°I tripped. Damn root,¡± Seamus muttered, wiping his mouth as another piece of his armor fell off, this one being his other pauldron. He could see how bloody the piece of steel was, accompanied by a visible scar courtesy of that asshole with the ax.

    ¡°You think we lost them?¡± Seamus panted out, his breaths coming out in clouds of steam in the frosty night air.

    ¡°Gods no¡­¡± Lowe shook his head, the gnome watching as the berserker ran up to the two men, her visible breath trailing behind her as she reached Seamus¡¯ side.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Seamus breathed out. He signed to the berserker as he slowly stood up, his free hand moving to take off his helmet. The cold air felt like bliss against his clammy skin and messy hair, making the young man sigh in relief. Seamus felt his body freeze as the sounds of boots over snow reached him. He turned back, expecting to see a group of orcs barreling their way. Instead, it was Miles, half of his mask blackened with soot and dirt. The mercenary reached the group, panting hard as he doubled over. Seamus could see how the man¡¯s short sword dripped with oily blood, along with the ax he had requisitioned from Lilith.

    ¡°I think I stalled them for a little longer, but we must get moving now. Get to the port before they do,¡± Miles panted heavily, his words spaced out between breaths. He stood up straight, his hand brushing his hood back to expose his sweat-dampened black hair. Seamus could see that it wasn¡¯t just soot that stained the man¡¯s mask but specks of dark blood.

    ¡°The port?¡± Lowe asked, his arm still clutching onto the cat statue he had brought with him.

    ¡°The southern one. That¡¯s where our ship is,¡± Seamus explained, catching his breath as he unstrapped some armor on his thigh and arms.

    ¡°What about the fire that asshole caused back there?!¡± Lowe shouted in anger, pointing at Miles. ¡°You lit up a vern tree with that explosion you caused back there! Caved in half the vault and nearly killed us!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll admit. I severely underestimated how much oil those barrels were holding,¡± Miles managed, catching his breath. ¡°But this island is already a lost cause. We need to get the hel off of it.¡±

    ¡°What about James and the others?¡± Seamus panted as he wiped the sweat from his brow. ¡°And the prisoners?¡±

    ¡°The hel do you want from me?¡± Miles asked, his voice stressed and as exhausted as Seamus¡¯ own. Everyone was tired, and the cold air did not help in the way they would have thought. ¡°Let¡¯s just get out of here first? We can worry about everything else later¡ª¡± Miles suddenly tensed up, his head swiveling. ¡°Shit!¡± he cursed, slowly stepping back.

    Seamus turned to see what he was looking at, his heart dropping as he saw the silhouettes of orcs and goblins in the distance lit up by torchlight.

    ¡®No, not torchlight.¡¯

    His eyes widened as he noticed how the light source spread throughout the trees, embers and ash floating to the night sky.

    ¡°Is that fire?!¡± Seamus exclaimed before hearing Lowe curse behind him,

    ¡°Shit! The fire from the vault is spreading!¡±

    ¡°We need to go now!¡± Miles shouted, and the rest of the group followed his example. Seamus carried Lowe on his back while Lilith stuck close to the two men, running along with them as they sprinted away from the orcs and the oncoming forest fire.

    <hr>

    James could see how the flames spread throughout the encampment, the embers of the spreading fire rising to the dark, cold sky. He could also see how the flames licked at the trees and shrubbery around the edges of the camp. It seemed like Bjorn¡¯s worries weren¡¯t for naught. The forest was burning, the trees around the encampment blazing with hellish flames.

    ¡®Let¡¯s just hope the fire doesn¡¯t get too far.¡¯

    James turned his focus to the port ahead, which was now visible from the distance.

    ¡°There it is,¡± Bjorn muttered, the dwarf hiding behind the same tent as James.

    ¡°Which one is yours?¡± Haggard asked in a low voice, peeking from his own hiding spot across the dirt path.

    ¡°The longship that¡¯s closest to the shore,¡± James responded, his eyes focusing on the black ship that floated placidly in the sea. He could see how the people and orcs on the ship moved around, possibly getting the ship ready for the sea. ¡°How long has it been since we¡¯ve left?¡± James asked Bjorn, who shrugged.

    ¡°Not really the best with numbers, but I reckon it¡¯s been a little over forty minutes.¡±

    ¡°Good. That means we¡¯re not too late.¡± James took one more peek at any nearby orcs before he stepped out, heading his way to the ship ahead.

    ¡°Do you think Seamus got his way to Frostbite?¡± Haggard asked from behind the young man.

    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt it. He already knows that we were all supposed to retreat to the port,¡± James answered.

    ¡°What if he ran into any orcs on the way there?¡± Haggard followed up.

    James turned back to the drifter. ¡°Seamus can take care of himself and has Miles with him. I saw them both heading in the same direction.¡±

    ¡°Seamus? You mean the coward?¡± Bjorn asked, the dwarf catching up with James.

    ¡°He¡¯s not a coward. At least not always,¡± James muttered. ¡°He can fend for himself. I know it.¡±

    ¡°Not to discredit your friend, but I¡¯ve seen the kid¡¯s eyes when we came across that burning town. He¡¯s not fit for this kind of thing, especially since he couldn¡¯t fight worth a damn back in that clearing,¡± the dwarf pointed out.

    James stopped his feet, rubbing his eyes as he sighed in frustration. ¡°Do you remember back when Dahlia saved your asses back on that island? I can recall you calling that shaman a burden, did you not? Seamus, my ¡®coward¡¯ of a friend, has saved my life and done much more fighting than I have in a week.¡± James stared down at a confused Bjorn, who stayed silent. ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate my friends. They¡¯re more capable than they look.¡± With that, James continued his walk, feeling how exhausted his body felt as he dragged his feet against the dirt. The two men behind him were dead quiet, possibly exhausted as well.

    ¡®It¡¯s been a long day.¡¯

    James looked at the ship ahead, noticing how one man on board was pointing over at James and his party. It was Edmund, James realized, the man¡¯s recognizable sword swaying as he waved over at the young man. James couldn¡¯t help but smile, raising his left hand to wave back. He realized his shield was still strapped to his forearm, causing the young man to almost chuckle at the dumb move.

    His smile faded as quickly as it had come when he felt something impact with the shield. James¡¯ eyes widened as he felt another impact against the shield, this one snapping him out of his thoughts. The young man watched as what looked like toothpicks fell from his shield¡¯s surface.

    ¡°Archers!¡± Bjorn shouted, the words clueing James in what was happening.

    ¡®Ambush!¡¯ Faust yelled.

    James¡¯ fight-or-flight response kicked in suddenly. He chose flight.

    ¡°Take cover!¡± James shouted, his eyes focusing on a vern tree nearby. He sprinted to the tree, feeling small impacts on his armored back as he did so. From his peripheral, James could see how Bjorn and Haggard did as told, taking cover behind barrels and tents. Upon reaching his own cover, he felt something prick at his shoulder, his eyes wandering to the toothpick-like arrows stuck on his leather armor. James grabbed the strange projectile, pulling it out with ease.

    ¡°What kind of arrows are these?¡± James asked aloud before receiving his response in the form of Haggard¡¯s shouting.

    ¡°Goblin archers! You have to be fucking joking!¡±

    James took a peek out of his cover, focusing on where the arrows were coming from. He found their source, a group of small goblins wearing strange armor. He could see how they carried shoddy short bows and a quiver full of their equally crude arrows at their hips. James noticed the group of orcs catching up to them.

    ¡°Shit! Shit!¡± James cursed, going back into cover as he tried to think up a plan, any plan, that could get them out of this. He searched through his satchel and belt, looking for anything that could help. His fingers brushed against a smooth stone, an idea clicking in his mind. ¡°Bjorn! Haggard!¡± James yelled out, turning over to the two men taking cover. ¡°I¡¯m going to distract them. I need you two to rush when I do so!¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± Haggard asked, hammer already in hand.

    ¡°Just rush!¡± James shouted, his hand bringing the small rune out of his satchel, which Edmund had given him.

    After making sure no arrows were coming his way, James wasted no more time, stepping out with his hand raised.

    ¡°Night Spray!¡± he shouted, his voice gaining an ethereal tone as the rune fired its many projectiles. James watched as hundreds of tiny purple fireflies rushed towards the goblins ahead, most of them hitting their marks. The goblins screamed and shouted as they fumbled around, a couple of them even on fire. Haggard and Bjorn seemed to understand their queue as both men rushed out of their hiding spots, weapons drawn. James dropped the hot stone right after the spell had finished, purple smoke emanating from the dying rune. James watched as the two men attacked the goblins, who stood no chance against them both. The orcs who were just arriving, on the other hand, stood a chance.

    As Haggard and Bjorn held off the green-skinned brutes, James turned to the longship nearby, shouting out to the stunned Edmund and crew. ¡°Get that ship sailing now! We need to get the hell out of here!¡±

    He turned back to the fight at hand, hoping to god that they had heard him. James pulled his short sword from its cloth sheath, his fingers clenched tightly to the hilt. He took a deep breath and charged into the fray, hoping to buy the longship and its crew for some time.

    <hr>

    Seamus felt his stomach lurching, his wheezing lungs taking in the burning cold air as he ran through the woods. He could hear the orcs and goblins shouting out at him from a distance, their threats and screams only motivating poor Seamus to run even faster.

    ¡°How¡­ How much farther?!¡± Seamus shouted back at Lowe, who was currently screaming at the young man to go faster.

    ¡°Judging from the posts we¡¯ve passed, we must be nearing Aldren! To get to the port, you must¡ª¡±

    Lowe was cut off by the sound of something whizzing past Seamus¡¯ ear. The sudden surprise made him stumble, slowing his run as he regained his balance.

    ¡°The hel was¨C?!¡± Seamus was interrupted by another sound of something speeding past his ear, the projectile hitting the tree next to him.

    ¡°Arrows!¡± Lowe shouted, his foot kicking Seamus at his armor. ¡°Those goblins have bows! Run!¡± Seamus took the gnome¡¯s advice, already forcing his feet to move before another of the projectiles whizzed past him, followed by another that struck its mark.

    ¡°Agh!¡± Seamus exclaimed, feeling how something sharp pierced his exposed leg. The sudden impact caused the man to stumble, making him lose his balance. Seamus fell to the cold forest ground once more, Lowe flying off into the nearby bushes. He attempted to get up, jolts of pain going through his thigh as he got onto his knees. After fighting through the agony, he noticed small armored figures running up to Seamus, two of them with spears and one with a short bow.

    ¡®More goblins. Shit.¡¯

    Seamus mentally cursed his luck, doing his best to crawl away as the goblins got closer, their unrecognizable chatter sounding excited.

    Before he knew it, however, another figure emerged from the dark forest, a glinting ax in her hand. Lilith wasted no time on the closest goblin, her foot kicking in its shaped helmet, sending the creature away as she turned to the next one. The goblin tried a jab at Lilith but missed horribly; the berserker took the chance to stomp on its spear¡¯s shaft, her ax flying at the goblin¡¯s exposed head. The ax head buried itself in the little creature¡¯s skull, its body instantly going limp.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± Seamus exclaimed, his hand gesturing at the archer behind Lilith. Lilith avoided getting struck by an arrow, her ax coming down at the goblin in front of her. Blood sprayed from the creature¡¯s torn neck, the visceral image forever printed in Seamus¡¯ memories. As Lilith kicked the little creature¡¯s body away, Seamus went to attend to his leg. The young man gritted his teeth as he looked for the arrow, his hand finding the crude wooden shaft sticking out of his outer thigh. With effort, Seamus broke the shaft, leaving the arrow tip in as pulling it out would cause even more bleeding.

    Seamus winced in pain as he tried to get up on his feet, moving to try to look for Lowe. The surrounding forest was lit by the growing fire in the distance, the heat of which was growing closer with the shouts of orcs.

    ¡°Lowe?¡± He called out before spotting the gnome rubbing his head, cat statue at hand.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Lowe called back, groaning before he stood up.

    ¡°Oh, thank the gods. We gotta keep moving,¡± Seamus panted out. He winced as he made his way to Lowe.

    ¡°You¡¯re hurt,¡± the gnome noticed.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Just get on my back, and let¡¯s keep moving.¡± Seamus dismissed Lowe¡¯s worries quickly. He wanted to keep moving.

    As Seamus turned around, letting the gnome get on his back, he noticed Lilith resting in the distance. Clouds of steam rose out of her nostrils and mouth, her chest rapidly moving as she caught her breath. Seamus suddenly noticed the hulking orc coming up behind her, an ax raised above his head. A sudden fear plagued his body as he tried to shout.

    ¡°Lilith!¡± However, the berserker was too late as the orc struck down his ax. Fortunately, he missed his initial swing, causing Lilith to roll over to avoid any more attacks. The orc roared angrily as he swung his free arm, finally connecting a hit. His strike sent Lilith flying into the nearby bushes, where she disappeared.

    ¡°No!¡± Seamus was already moving to help before he witnessed a masked man suddenly jump on the orc¡¯s back. The man¡¯s strange sword pierced into the brute¡¯s shoulder, drawing a pained roar. The attacker was none other than Miles, his grinning mask speckled with dark blood. He soon backed off from the injured brute, visibly panting as he held his stained sword. He dodged an attack from the orc, his short sword dancing around the greenish brute¡¯s arm as he yelled out to the rest of the group.

    ¡°Run! I¡¯ll hold him off!¡±

    Seamus took the ex-follower¡¯s advice, his feet forcing himself to move even further away from the scene. Lowe was already on his back, his small foot kicking at Seamus¡¯ side as if he were a horse.

    ¡°Run, Seamus!¡±

    With that in mind, Seamus Halvorson did what he did best. He ran with all the strength he could muster.

    <hr>

    ¡°Die!¡± The orc screamed out as it swung its club at James, the young man reacting by raising his round shield. The club struck his shield with a resounding Bang! The force of which made his left arm go numb. Still, the shield resisted the impact, taking the blow head-on without a single splinter. James aimed his sword at the brute¡¯s exposed flank, moving in for a strike. Unfortunately, James was off by a mile, his blade only glancing off the orc¡¯s shoddy armor.

    ¡®Shit!¡¯

    James gritted his teeth as he braced for the orc¡¯s kick. It didn¡¯t come, however, as Haggard stepped in to save James. The man¡¯s hammer caved in the orc¡¯s half helm, the sound of bone crushing forever imprinted in James¡¯ memories. Haggard kicked away the orc, sweat dripping down the man¡¯s forehead.

    ¡°Stay back! You¡¯re only getting in the way!¡± Haggard shouted as he moved in on another nearby orc, his hammer swinging at its next target.

    James took Haggard¡¯s advice, as his lungs were already killing him from the inside. He took a few steps back, catching his breath as he watched the battle in front of him. Bjorn and Haggard were cutting through and holding off the group of orcs, who were mostly unarmored. James watched with fascination, impressed at how fierce both were in a fight, especially Bjorn. The dwarf had only a couple of castings left, yet he fought without their help. Bjorn had killed two of the orcs so far, at least from what James saw during the heat of the fight. Haggard had taken out three, and one of them was achieved with the help of James.

    ¡®I really need to practice,¡¯ James tiredly reiterated to himself. His breathing slowly went back to normal as he took off his steel helm, letting his head cool off as he watched the fight in front of him.

    ¡®I think it might be time to retreat,¡¯ Faust pointed out, just as more of the orcs arrived to back up their friends.

    ¡°Agreed,¡± James muttered aloud, turning back to the longship. ¡°Bjorn! Haggard! It¡¯s time to go, now!¡± He turned back to the men, watching as they slowly backed up, still clashing with the orcs as they fought. ¡°Shit¡­¡± James muttered, already moving to put his steel helmet back on. Before he could, however, something caught his attention, something that moved in quickly in his peripheral vision.

    ¡®James!¡¯

    The young man had no time to react as he was thrown back onto the dirt ground, dust kicking up everywhere. He had no idea what had happened, only that something had struck his left arm and shield. James blinked as he looked up at his attacker, his eyes widening.

    This orc was much bigger than the others before him, making James swear he was looking at a giant. He was a good three meters tall, with a large cloak covering half of his body and exposing the rest of his torso and left shoulder. A blood-red skull was painted over his face, and an accompanying skeletal arm was painted over his left. He looked down at James with a look of disgust as if he was glancing down at a fly. Before James could do or say anything, Haggard¡¯s hammer came swinging at the orc, who blocked it with his armored brace. The orc gritted his teeth as he withstood the attack.

    ¡°You must be the one who started this fire,¡± the orc finally spoke, grunting as he pushed back the hammer.

    ¡°Damn right,¡± Haggard responded before flashing a grin at the orc. ¡°And I¡¯ll gladly do it again,¡± he added with noticeable smugness. The orc roared with anger, his armored fist coming at Haggard with frightening speed. Haggard somehow dodged the attack, his hammer aimed at the giant.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± Haggard shouted, his hammer quickly swinging at the orc¡¯s exposed flank. However, the strike didn¡¯t hit its mark as the orc attempted a dodge. The hammer ended up glancing off the orc¡¯s dark armor, which looked to be of better quality compared to the average orc¡¯s protection.

    ¡°James. Get to the ship,¡± Haggard muttered to the young man, who had watched the encounter from the ground. James blinked, finally snapping out of his stupor.

    ¡°Got it,¡± James quickly moved to stand up, his eyes turning to Bjorn, who was slowly backing up to the two men. James noticed the other orcs, who were standing back from the trio. ¡°Is this who I think it is?¡± James asked in a low voice, his feet slowly moving back as he looked at Haggard. The older man nodded, his eyes focused on the orc, who now James realized was Blood-Irk.

    The giant looked down at James and his party, huffing as he spoke out. ¡°Leave the arsonist and the dwarf to me.¡± He looked at his orcs, who nodded almost immediately.

    ¡°What about the other human?¡± One of them asked cautiously.

    Blood-Irk snorted, waving his hand. ¡°The weakling? Kill him for all I care. He is no challenge for me.¡± James felt his body tense up at that, his eyes widening as he saw the hungry look the orcs gave him. James was already running as one orc tried to rush at him. Bjorn tried to intervene but was interrupted by Blood-Irk, who swung down at the dwarf with a fist.

    ¡°Your fight is with me!¡± The orc shouted, his attack sending Bjorn flying despite the dwarf¡¯s shield.

    James realized then that he was on his own, his feet forcing himself to move as he tried to get away from the tirade of orcs who went after him. However, before he could turn around to make a full sprint, one orc managed to catch up, his ax swinging at James at full speed. James instinctively raised his shield, feeling how the ax struck against the shield¡¯s wood. Surprisingly enough, the axe didn¡¯t break through the wood, nor even splinter it. Still, the force behind it was enough to make James recoil from the attack, making himself trip while at it.

    James fell back onto the dirt, groaning as he watched the orc coming for another attack. James was already raising his shield in defense, which wasn¡¯t needed at all. The orc was interrupted by another one of his brethren, who tackled the brute onto the dirt ground. James blinked at the sight, watching as the orc wailed on his attacker.

    ¡°Dog won¡¯t let you hurt human! Argh!¡± The orc, who James realized was Dog, bashed at the brute¡¯s skull, either killing or maiming him. James was about to say something to Dog when a hand reached out to him, beckoning the young man to grab it. James accepted it with gratitude, looking up to see Edmund.

    ¡°We¡¯re here to help,¡± Edmund panted, obviously out of breath. His eyes darted to James¡¯ right, his sword rising to strike before someone else stepped in, kicking away the brute James hadn¡¯t seen coming. He looked at the one who had stepped in to help, a familiar orc who was another of Silas¡¯ companions.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, nice reunion. Are we going to bash in skulls or what?¡± The friendly orc asked, holding his spear with proficiency.

    ¡°No one¡¯s stopping you, Fero,¡± Edmund responded, gesturing towards the other orcs, who were approaching fast. Fero grinned at the sight of the oncoming orcs, raising his weapon in challenge.

    ¡°Dog, sic them!¡± He shouted, the other orc responding to his words with a primal yell. Dog did as told, charging at the attacking orcs without a second thought. Fero soon joined, moving to fight alongside Dog.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± Edmund exclaimed, pushing James aside as a shorter orc came in, swinging his club wildly. The young mercenary avoided the wild attacks before his broadsword slashed at the orc¡¯s arm, forcing the brute back. James watched as another orc joined in, this one holding an ax. James stepped in to help, swinging his sword wildly at the bastard in front of him. The orc didn¡¯t seem to expect the unpredictable attacks, his body moving to dodge them as he tried to evade James. The brute soon found an opportunity in James¡¯ swings, his ax coming down on the young man.

    ¡®Fuck!¡¯

    James felt his body forcefully dodge backward, his foot slipping as he barely kept his hand. Unfortunately, he had fallen on his ass once more. The orc took the chance, swinging his ax down at James. The young man wasted no time rolling over to avoid the attack. Once the ax hit the dirt ground, James used the opportunity to swing his sword down at the orc¡¯s wrist. The blade struck the green flesh with a sickening sound, along with the screams of the orc. James held back bile as he forcefully pulled his blade out, moving to swing his sword down on the orc¡¯s head next.

    Unfortunately for James, he would not be able to do so. James had his sword high in the sky when he had felt it. It was something he hadn¡¯t felt in days, a feeling that had terrorized his nightmares, one that he hoped he would never feel again. It was the familiar and horrible feeling of cold, biting steel entering his body. The world felt as if it had stopped. James¡¯ eyes widened as he looked down at his abdomen, seeing how the orc stabbed him with a dagger. He dropped his sword, his body frozen as he felt the brute twist the blade inside of his flesh.

    The world went blank for James as he looked down at the orc, a cold hatred filling his body as adrenaline pumped through his veins. Saying nothing, James grabbed at the orc¡¯s head, his grip strong enough to break bricks.

    It all went white as James felt his mind clash with the orc. The young man gritted his teeth as he focused his will, feeling how a fever quickly formed around his eyes, his body suddenly exploding in heat. He felt the orc¡¯s own energy rush into his body, the brute¡¯s mental will weak enough for the man to overtake it with ease. The white was suddenly replaced by an image of orcs and ships, the open ocean, the stew from that morning, and the fight with James. The feedback of information proved too much for the young man who let go of the orc¡¯s skull.

    He gasped for a breath as he was thrust back into reality, his eyes blinking as he looked down at the orc who had stabbed him. The brute had two hand-shaped burns on his skin, his eyes fearfully looking at James as he hurried away. James winced as he slowly stood up, his hand picking up his fallen sword. He noticed the dagger still in his body, which prompted his free hand to grab at the dagger in his abdomen. With effort, he pulled it out, a blinding pain nearly making him go down on his knees again.

    ¡°Probably not the best idea,¡± James muttered before realizing there was no sound of battle, as his ears only picked up the crackling of the camp¡¯s fire. He turned to where the battle was, realizing that everyone had stopped.

    They were all looking at him, orcs and men, all with mixed emotions on their faces.

    ¡°Draugr! He¡¯s a Draugr!¡± The orc from before yelled out, pointing at his burn marks. James could hear the muttering from the other orcs, who all backed away from him.

    ¡°His eyes¡­ they look cursed!¡±

    ¡°Are those beholder eyes?¡±

    ¡°I can see his skull! He is a revenant!¡±

    ¡°No, he¡¯s the incarnation of Dremor himself!¡±

    The orcs all seemed afraid, which confused James until he realized how his eyes burned. He noticed Haggard¡¯s surprised look, along with Blood-Irk¡¯s dumbfounded face. It was all interrupted when the orc leader pointed a finger at James.

    ¡°Bring me his head!¡± The chieftain shouted, despite the other orcs¡¯ clear hesitation of even going near James.

    James blinked, his feet slowly moving back to the ship. ¡°Everyone¡­ We should get going now!¡±

    ¡°Agreed!¡± Edmund shouted back, already taking the chance to back away. This seemed to get everyone moving, including Dog and Fero, who hurried to back away from the orcs. Blood-Irk scowled, moving in to take on James himself.

    Bjorn interrupted, bashing the orc with a shield. ¡°Get to safety! Haggard and I can hold them off!¡±

    The rest of the group took it as a go-ahead, already moving to get to the longship. They all hurried to the deck bridge ahead, ignoring the sounds of fighting as they ran.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re a fucking Draugr!¡± Fero shouted out to James, who was already exerting his injured body.

    ¡°Shut up and keep running!¡± James shouted back. Edmund was the first to reach the deck bridge, followed by Dog, Fero, and finally James. Just as James was about to step onto the deck bridge, however, he took a glance back at the scene behind him. He witnessed a horrifying sight as he watched Bjorn take on a full hit from Blood-Irk, the orc¡¯s fist crushing in Bjorn¡¯s breastplate.

    ¡°No!¡± James shouted out, his feet forcing him to run back to the scene.

    ¡°James, wait! The ship is already moving. You have to get on now!¡± Edmund shouted out.

    ¡°Forget me! Go to the southern port, where Frostbite is! I¡¯ll be there!¡± James ordered.

    ¡°But¨C¡±

    ¡°Just go!¡± James yelled before heading his way to the two men. Haggard was already faltering from his attacks, his body clearly strained and exhausted.

    ¡°Keep that asshole at bay!¡± James shouted, making his way to Bjorn despite his own wound sending stabs of pain throughout his abdomen.

    Once he reached the fallen dwarf, James propped him up, his eyes examining the damage. Bjorn¡¯s chest was caved in, blood running down the dwarf¡¯s beard.

    ¡°James,¡± Bjorn coughed out, gritting his teeth as he spoke, ¡°Golden flask¡­ Now.¡±

    James wasted no time searching through the dwarf¡¯s satchel and belt, pushing past the other two flasks he carried. He soon found it, a shiny flask at the bottom of the satchel. James grabbed it, opening it quickly before he poured the contents down the dwarf¡¯s open lips. He watched as the pink, glistening liquid poured out of the flask, Bjorn drinking up the stuff like a man dying of thirst. James watched as the dwarf¡¯s chest slowly reshaped itself back to normal, his eyes widening as he breathed in normally.

    ¡°Oh, thank the gods,¡± Bjorn muttered, grabbing the flask from James.

    ¡°What is this stuff?¡± James asked as he picked Bjorn up.

    ¡°Advanced¡­ healing potion,¡± the dwarf managed out, almost as if out of breath.

    ¡°James! Let¡¯s go!¡± Haggard shouted out, catching James¡¯ attention. The man was currently fighting with Blood-Irk, the other orcs also moving in to attack.

    ¡°Third satchel¡­ Left¡­¡± Bjorn spoke out, taking in breaths as James held him up. James raised an eyebrow but didn¡¯t question it as he searched through the dwarf¡¯s belt. He pulled out a small gray ball the size of a marble.

    ¡°What is¨C?¡±

    ¡°Pinch the fuse and throw,¡± Bjorn interrupted. James did as told, his fingers pinching the top of the ball before throwing the object at Blood-Irk.

    ¡°Wait, is this a bomb?!¡± James suddenly realized, looking back at Bjorn. Before he could get an answer, James watched as the ball exploded into smoke, clouding the entire area.

    Coughing, James squinted through the smoke, leading himself and Bjorn out of the smoke cloud. He watched as Haggard emerged as well, coughing violently into his sleeve.

    ¡°What¡­ What the hell was that?¡±

    ¡°Smoke bomb¡­¡± Bjorn explained in a breath.

    ¡°How come you never told us about it?¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t¡­ Think it would work¡­ Never used it¡­¡± the dwarf breathed out.

    ¡°Haggard, I need you to carry Bjorn,¡± James coughed out, wincing as he grabbed at his abdomen. Haggard groaned but didn¡¯t waste any time as he moved to pick up the injured dwarf, who grumbled inaudibly as he carried him.

    James could hear the orcs in the smoke yelling and shouting, clearly still lost inside the gray cloud. He turned back to where the longship was originally, seeing that the vessel was already sea-bound.

    ¡®Time to get moving.¡¯

    ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± James shouted to the duo, forcing his feet to move. ¡°We have to get to the southern port now! We don¡¯t have time left.¡± With James leading the way, the trio started their run toward the forest, which was illuminated by fire that had spread from the encampment.

    ¡®Shit. I guess the fire¡¯s moving fast,¡¯ James realized grimly.

    ¡®There still seems to be a good portion of it that¡¯s not in flames. You just need to be quick enough, and you can make it,¡¯ Faust pointed out.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just hope that we are quick enough. I¡¯m not ready to die. Not here. Not now.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 36: Flame Consumes All (Part Two)

    Seamus pressed himself against the vern tree, his hand covering his mouth as he tried to silence his ragged breathing. Lowe was nearby, hidden behind a bush. The gnome looked terrified, his eyes darting around as he tried to make himself blend in with the leaves. Seamus wanted to say some words of encouragement, mainly to calm himself down, but he couldn¡¯t afford to. The orcs¡¯ nearing footsteps grew louder as they walked over the snow, their breathing nearly overpowering the distant fire¡¯s roar.

    Lilith and Miles were still nowhere to be seen, possibly because Seamus had practically bolted through the forest with uninterrupted speed. Uninterrupted, until he had run into the current patrol of orcs. One patrol that had been coming from Aldren, judging from the direction the two brutes had come from. Seamus and Lowe had been hiding out in the darker part of the forest for a good while since they knew they couldn¡¯t currently outrun the patrol.

    Seamus did his best to lessen his rapid breaths, the sound most certainly attracting the brutes to his location.

    ¡®Dammit! You¡¯re going to get caught!¡¯

    Seamus used both of his hands to cover his mouth as he heard the sounds of footsteps coming closer.

    ¡°I think I hear something,¡± an orc muttered, his voice giving his position out. He was at least four meters away from Seamus¡¯ tree.

    Seamus could hear the orc¡¯s footsteps grow louder, the fear in the young man¡¯s heart skyrocketing as he tried to come up with an escape plan. He searched his satchel and belt for anything, hoping that he would have something up his sleeve that he forgot about. Nothing.

    ¡®There has to be something! Anything!¡¯

    Seamus panicked mentally, his hand searching some more. In the end, his hand only settled on his sword¡¯s hilt, its pommel cold to the touch. He gripped onto it, a realization going through his mind.

    ¡®The only thing I can do¡­¡¯

    Seamus looked down at his sword, the orc¡¯s footsteps now deafening.

    ¡°Is fight,¡± he muttered softly, realizing he had only one option. He didn¡¯t hear what the orc said once he was found, only that the brute had swung his ax at Seamus. Everything had gone slow, as if the goddess of time herself had intervened. However, the young man knew better and used the chance to dodge the attack quickly. He threw himself onto the forest floor, sending snow flying. He squirmed on the cold ground, twisting his body to see that the orc¡¯s swing was strong enough to pierce the vern tree. The ax¡¯s blade made a thwacking sound as it stuck inside the seemingly invulnerable wood.

    ¡°Thank you, agility potion,¡± Seamus breathed out, noticing how adrenaline surged throughout his body.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± the orc shouted, doing his best to pull out his ax. Seamus scrambled to unsheathe his own sword, shifting his body to stand back up. Once his weapon was drawn, however, Seamus noticed the second orc, who swung around with a longsword. The young man jerked his body away from the oncoming slashes, his heart beating loudly in his ears as he avoided the orc¡¯s strikes.

    However, it wouldn¡¯t prove flawless as the orc¡¯s sword got in one strike, which struck against Seamus¡¯ torso. The strength behind the attack was enough to send the young man stumbling back, his feet slipping. Seamus found himself back on the forest floor, his eyes blinking as he looked for his attacker.

    ¡°Oh shi¡ª!¡± Seamus rolled himself to the side, barely avoiding the downward stab of the orc¡¯s sword. The young man quickly propped himself up, panting as he flailed his sword at the orc without thinking.

    His sword¡¯s edge cut into the brute¡¯s arm, drawing a pained yell.

    ¡°Bastard!¡± The orc grimaced, striking Seamus with the back of his hand.

    The young man found himself back on the forest floor, the taste of copper making itself present on Seamus¡¯ tongue. He slowly tried to get up, spitting on the snow below him. It was blood, HIS blood. Seamus stared at the red spot on the white glistening snow, his hand moving to wipe his mouth. More blood stained his glove, signaling to the young man that he was bleeding. Something made itself present inside of Seamus, his mind slowly going blank as he looked down at the stain. He turned back to the orc responsible, a cold feeling of rage and hate filling his mind.

    Right before it could fully manifest, he was suddenly interrupted when something came out of the forest. It was a blur of fur, steel, and skin, and it had launched itself at the orc, tackling it as the sound of yelling and screaming filled the night. Seamus blinked, his thoughts resetting to his normal self once more.

    He watched as Lilith wailed her ax onto the orc below, her primal shouts echoing throughout the forest. Seamus noticed the second orc moving to attack the berserker before another figure subsequently tackled him. They both struggled, the orc clearly having the upper hand as he wrenched the short sword from the other man, who turned out to be Miles. The brute raised the strange sword, ready to gut the ex-follower before Lilith intervened, her hands carrying the longsword the other orc carried.

    She swung its blade down at the brute¡¯s arm, causing him to shout out in pain as he let go of the mercenary. Lilith was suddenly relieved of her weapon as the orc pulled the blade away from her hands. Still, the berserker didn¡¯t stop there. She lunged at the brute, her hand unhitching her stowed ax. Seamus watched as the brute stood no chance against the berserker, his arms flailing as she brought her ax down over his skull, over and over. By the end of it all, the orc¡¯s head was nothing but mince, his blood staining Lilith¡¯s arms and torso.

    ¡°Where did you two come from?¡± Seamus asked in between breaths. He stood up as Miles took back his short sword from the dead brute¡¯s hand.

    ¡°You outran us both¡­¡± Miles panted out, wiping away some of the soot and blood from his mask, which only smeared across the once white wood.

    ¡°Are any of those orcs from before still after us?¡± Seamus asked. He turned to look at the once distant forest fire, which was now much closer than it had been a couple of minutes ago. The flames now lit the dark forest, showing Seamus how visibly exhausted and dirty everyone was.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. We lost them a while ago,¡± Miles muttered. ¡°We should still keep moving, just in case.¡±

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    ¡°That¡¯s if we know where we¡¯re going,¡± Seamus pointed out, his eyes squinting for any sign of where they were. He knew they were close to Aldren, judging from what Lowe had told him a few minutes ago, but he wasn¡¯t sure of the exact location.

    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t be too far from the path!¡± A familiar voice called out. Seamus turned to see Lowe come out of his hiding spot, the gnome still clutching onto his statue. ¡°Judging from how far we¡¯ve run¡­ and the direction of where these orcs came from. We shouldn¡¯t be too far from the main path that leads to Aldren and the southern port.¡± Lowe coughed as he reached the exhausted group. ¡°We just need to keep moving straight.¡±

    ¡°Alright then¡­ I guess we¡¯ll be running again,¡± Seamus sighed tiredly, feeling how much weaker the agility potion¡¯s effects had gotten. He turned to see if Lilith felt the same way, only to find the berserker sprawled on the ground. ¡°Lilith?¡± Seamus asked, feeling as if something in him had dropped. He was about to go up to her to help when Miles stepped in, his hands propping the woman up.

    ¡°She¡¯s fine,¡± Miles assured Seamus, grunting with effort as he picked her up, carrying the berserker in his arms. ¡°The agility potion must¡¯ve worn off. Not just that, but with all the orcs she killed on the way, I¡¯m surprised her heart hasn¡¯t stopped,¡± Miles commented.

    ¡°We should get going,¡± Seamus muttered, moving to help Lowe climb onto his back. ¡°It won¡¯t be long until those orcs catch up. I doubt they¡¯ve given up.¡± Seamus felt tired; hell, everyone must have felt tired. Even Miles looked exhausted despite the mercenary¡¯s mask covering up his expressions. Still, even in their current state, they all ran again, heading to escape from the oncoming fire.

    <hr>

    The heat was blistering, overwhelming even. Still, James couldn¡¯t give up. He couldn¡¯t afford to give up, to stop. He knew it would mean certain death. ¡°James! Keep running!¡± Haggard shouted at the young man, who was lagging behind his group. The fire wasn¡¯t even that near, yet its heat was already bearing down on him like a small sun. He wanted to stop, to take a small rest, but he could hear the orcs gaining on him from behind, their shouts increasing in volume as they neared. James gritted his teeth, forcing his body to push harder despite his stab wound, feeling as if it was tearing him up from the inside.

    ¡®Don¡¯t you dare stop!¡¯ Faust shouted at James, the spirit¡¯s voice frantic.

    ¡®I¡¯ve been running forever! My legs feel like they¡¯re going numb¡­ My lungs are on fire¡­ I feel like I¡¯m dying!¡¯ James responded mentally.

    It wasn¡¯t long before James felt his feet suddenly slip on the forest ground. His balance was soon lost as he stumbled. He landed on his knees and arms, his hand still clutching onto his short sword. James took deep, ragged breaths as he tried to get up, his head turning to see how far the orcs were.

    ¡®Drop!¡¯

    James did as told, like many times before, his body flattening itself against the ground. He watched as an ax missed his head, the orc who held it scowling at the young man. James didn¡¯t waste time, his sword moving to pierce the orc¡¯s chest.

    Instead, the strike missed and ended up stabbing the orc¡¯s exposed gut. The brute shouted in anger, recoiling as he kicked James away. The sword slipped out of James¡¯ grasp, staying inside the orc as he tumbled back from the kick. James scrambled, ready to fight, until he saw Haggard move in. The older man used his hammer to deflect the ax swing from his opponent, his free hand moving to grab James¡¯ sword. The young man watched in horror as Haggard gutted the orc, the brute¡¯s insides plopping out onto the ground.

    He stared at the sight, unable to move as he watched the orc¡¯s body drop. Haggard wasted no time; however, his attention turned to James as he moved to pick up the young man.

    ¡°Move!¡± Haggard shouted, placing the bloody sword in his hands as he pushed him along. James blinked, taking the advice as he forced his feet to move. He watched Haggard pick up Bjorn before continuing their run as if nothing had happened. James swallowed his shock, starting his run as he heard the shouts of the other orcs catching up to their dead comrade.

    The young man pushed the memory of the brutal death into the back of his mind, clenching his jaw as he ran through the burning forest. The men ran for what seemed like an eternity, going over dead logs and burning vern trees, which emitted heat like a sun. Still, James would come across an obstacle. He could see even more flames ahead, which nearly made him lose all hope.

    ¡®The fire has trapped us¡­¡¯ James grimly realized before noticing something strange with the fire. Mainly with how some trees looked like structures¡­

    James skidded to a stop, squinting ahead.

    ¡°Holy shit,¡± he muttered in a breath. With no doubts, he ran to the flames ahead.

    ¡°James? Where are you going? There¡¯s only more fire!¡± Haggard shouted out.

    ¡°It¡¯s the town! It¡¯s Aldren!¡± James shouted, never feeling so relieved at finding a burning town. He broke through the treeline, catching his breath as he looked upon the burning town. Which still burned despite it being hours since the young man and his group had come across it. James turned his attention to the southern part of the town, where the path to the port was.

    ¡°There¡¯s the way back to Frostbite,¡± James pointed out just as Haggard reached him.

    ¡°Thank the gods¡­ Then let¡¯s get going!¡±

    They all hauled ass, their tired feet and muscles gaining a sense of rejuvenation. Just as they reached the path, though, a group of figures emerged from a nearby treeline. It made James and Haggard stop almost immediately, the two men ready to fight off any orcs who got in the way of their freedom. Fortunately, no brutes were on the way to stop the trio.

    James blinked confusingly, his eyes focused on the group in front of him. One man had a dented and scarred steel breastplate, his wild black hair matted with sweat. The other held an injured woman who seemed unconscious, her red hair loose and partially burnt. The one who carried her was in a similar state of distress. Multiple scratches and burn marks across his clothing and a white, grinning mask.

    ¡°Holy shit¡­ Miles¡­ Seamus¡­?¡± James managed out before finally noticing the gnome hitching a ride on Seamus. He also spotted a woman being carried by Miles. ¡°Is that¡­ Is that the woman who went berserk in the clearing?¡± James recognized the woman by her red hair and signature fur breeches.

    ¡°There¡¯s too much to explain. Right now, we need to get the hell off!¡± Seamus exclaimed, his own breathing just as bad as James, if not worse.

    ¡°Exactly.¡± Haggard panted out, already moving to go down the path. ¡°We already have orcs chasing us, so let¡¯s get moving!¡± The drifter shouted, already starting his run. Miles soon followed, along with Seamus and finally James. Without much more talking, everyone ran down the dirt path, the flames engulfing the trees nearby. James could only hear his breathing now, his lungs burning with effort and ash as he sprinted alongside Seamus, whose ragged breathing matched James¡¯.

    It wasn¡¯t long until they saw the ship, which already had its black sails down, everyone on board moving as if they didn¡¯t notice their exhausted group. James could see how his vision slowly darkened, his hand still covering his stab wound. The pain was astronomical, his body suffering with every step. Still, he couldn¡¯t give up. He couldn¡¯t stop. He couldn¡¯t¡­

    James¡¯s vision blacked out.

    It slowly returned, showing him he was on the dirt. It darkened again before returning soon. He was being carried. Someone was shouting. The world went black again, a little longer before it returned James to reality. He was now on the ship, propped up against the barrel as Dahlia worked on him, her shouts inaudible. Miles was nearby, passing the shaman his satchel as Haggard and Seamus dropped onto the deck.

    There was so much going on, so many voices shouting at once. Still, despite the amount of information being thrown at him, all James could focus on was the burning island in the distance, which was slowly growing smaller as he blinked. James looked down at his bloody armor and clothes, which Dahlia was ripping off to get to his wound. He laid his head back on the barrel once more, taking a deep breath as he watched the once lush green island burn to cinders.

 Interlude: Skipping Stones

    Kate sighed softly, her hands tightening the cloak around her as a chilled breeze washed over. She looked down at the stone she held, frowning as she tossed it at the water ahead. The stone skipped the black waters twice before falling into its depths.

    ¡°Nice toss,¡± Dirk commented, the young man sitting a few meters away from her. He grabbed his stone, standing up from his seat at the harbor¡¯s edge. He positioned his arm and tossed the smooth rock at the water, not unlike the way Kate had done. Dirk¡¯s stone skipped four times, which caused the young man to pump his fist through the air. ¡°Yes!¡± He cheered in a hushed tone, careful not to make too much noise.

    ¡°Four skips¡­ What an achievement,¡± Harris muttered, the guard in training sitting on Kate¡¯s left side, his hand carrying a mug he ¡®borrowed¡¯ from the tavern.

    ¡°What?¡± Dirk asked in disbelief. ¡°I¡¯d like to see you achieve a better score!¡± The teen challenged.

    Harris simply chuckled, shaking his head as he sipped at his mug of what looked like ale. ¡°I don¡¯t busy myself with children¡¯s games,¡± he replied.

    ¡°Yet here you are. Hanging around people playing it,¡± Kate muttered, her hand tossing the stone at the water ahead. The stone made its skips, reaching a total of four. She smiled a little at that. ¡°Four skips. Guess that makes my score fourteen?¡± She asked Dirk, her feet gently kicking off the harbor¡¯s edge. Dirk blinked, realizing that she had surpassed his own score of twelve. He turned around, looking for another stone as Kate watched the waves.

    ¡°Why are you even wasting your time here? Most of the class are back at the tavern, y¡¯know,¡± Harris prodded.

    ¡°I wanted to get away from the noise and have some peace,¡± Kate admitted, watching as Dirk¡¯s new stone skipped across the waves, making a total of two skips.

    ¡°Tied!¡± Dirk exclaimed.

    ¡°Peace?¡± Harris asked, ignoring Dirk¡¯s shout of excitement.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ The sea is calming,¡± Kate threw her next stone, which came from the pile she had already pre-made before her and Dirk¡¯s little game. ¡°Two skips.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s sixteen for you!¡± Dirk counted.

    ¡°If you want some calming, you can come over to my home. I still have my quarters intact,¡± Harris suggested, flashing Kate a grin as he sipped from his mead. Kate couldn¡¯t help but form a disgusted look, her head shaking as she watched Dirk skip his next stone.

    ¡°No, thank you. The freezing black waters are much preferable than a night with you,¡± Kate rejected, adding Dirk¡¯s score up to seventeen.

    ¡°Why? Is it because you¡¯d rather spend a night with this buffoon?¡± The guard in training gestured towards Dirk, who was watching uncomfortably. ¡°No, wait, you¡¯d rather have the stranger who supposedly saved you. Am I right?¡± Harris asked. ¡°He didn¡¯t even want to join the guards; he just wanted to help fix housing for the elderly. Some warrior,¡± Harris chuckled, sipping at his drink.

    Kate felt her hand tighten around the smooth stone she held, holding back the urge to throw it at Harris¡¯ stupid grin. She could feel herself slipping, her anger almost taking over before a gruff voice interrupted her thoughts.

    ¡°Harris. Rowan. Andal.¡±

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    Kate turned to see her trainer, Harald, approach the trio. Kate quickly got up, watching Harris drop his drink to stand. Harald stopped his walk a few meters away from Kate, his eyes settling on Harris.

    ¡°Am I right to assume you were speaking about Seamus Falken, correct?¡± The old man asked. Harris managed a nod, his cheeks blushing with either shame or drink. ¡°For your information, Jonas Harris, Falken is someone you should have more respect for. Seamus is a much better swordsman than you, much more skilled, and certainly with much more humility than yourself.¡± Harald muttered, his voice almost a growl.

    ¡°Sir, with all due respect, why doesn¡¯t Seamus Falken join the guards then? If he¡¯s as skilled as you say he is,¡± Harris asked in a barely audible whisper.

    Harald stared at Harris for a few seconds before finally speaking. ¡°It is because he feels he isn¡¯t right for the job. That is all I will say.¡±

    With that, Harald surveyed the entire group once more. ¡°All of you, get to bed. Tomorrow, we will work on defense training. I don¡¯t want anyone hungover in the morning.¡± Harald stood, watching as both Harris and Dirk walked.

    ¡°Guess I win tonight,¡± Dirk whispered as he passed Kate. Kate had to repress a smile as she walked off home.

    ¡°Rowan,¡± Harald suddenly spoke up. ¡°I want you to stay.¡±

    Kate froze in place, turning around to meet the veteran. ¡°Yes, sir?¡±

    Harald sighed tiredly at Kate¡¯s response, his body losing all tension as he walked to the harbor¡¯s edge.

    ¡°Let¡¯s drop the formalities for now, Kate,¡± Harald muttered. Kate nodded, walking up to the veteran as he glanced at the cloudy sky, the sister moons illuminating through the clouds. ¡°What do you know about the Lumen soldiers?¡± He asked in a whisper.

    Kate looked up at the clouded night sky as she searched her mind, remembering that morning¡¯s reconnaissance. ¡°Not much more than last time. They¡¯ve been obsessed with that shaman¡¯s home and the mountain. It¡¯s like they found something.¡±

    ¡°What about the Lumen Knights? Have you seen them?¡± Harald prodded.

    ¡°Yes, the big one is usually guarding the perimeter. The other one, the spellcaster, I¡¯ve only seen a couple of times. When I caught a glimpse, he looked tired, like he was up all night.¡± Kate revealed. She could see how Harald furrowed his brow at the sound of her words.

    ¡°What are you up to¡­¡± the veteran muttered to himself before turning to Kate. ¡°Anything else?¡±

    ¡°No, sir¡­ I mean Harald, I mean s¨C¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re fine, Kate. Go to bed for now. The night is getting colder, and I don¡¯t want you catching anything.¡±

    Kate looked over at the veteran, watching as the man mumbled to himself, his eyes closing. The young woman took it as her queue to leave, her feet guiding her away from the harbor and to the direction of her home.

    ¡®What¡¯s going on?¡¯

    Kate tightened her cloak around her as she walked. She wondered what had the veteran worried and suspicious of the Lumen Knights. It was strange enough that he sent her to spy on them. Wasn¡¯t Harald a Lumen soldier himself? Shouldn¡¯t he be vouching for these men?

    ¡®Perhaps there is something I don¡¯t know about him¡­ Maybe there¡¯s a reason he¡¯s so distrusting of them.¡¯

    Kate would have to poke around some more to figure out what was happening. In the meantime, she needed sleep. Kate yawned a little before she took one more glance behind her. She looked out into the open sea beyond the harbor, out into the distance. Despite it being a few days since she had seen Frostbite, Kate knew Seamus was still out there, still alive despite her initial worries.

    ¡®Fuck me. Am I feeling for him?¡¯

    Kate cursed silently, shaking her head as she walked off. She didn¡¯t know how to feel about the fact that she was catching feelings for Seamus, the man who had saved her life. It was a bag of mixed emotions she didn¡¯t want, yet she was burdened with it. Still, despite it all, she secretly hoped the young man was alright and safely headed back to Yorktown.

 B.2 Chapter 37: Adventures End

    5

    Homebound

    <hr>

    James was back in the black waters of the lake that had transported him to Valenfrost. The water at his waist slowly rose around the young man, reaching up to his waist in little time. In the distance, James could spot the runic slab responsible for his departure from Earth, the damned thing beckoning him to its glowing runes. Upon closer inspection, however, James realized something. This wasn¡¯t the same slab. It was different.

    It now sat on the distant shoreline instead of in the middle of the lake, its material weathered stone instead of stained wood. Eldritch green runes were now burnt into its gray surface, the stone showing clear signs of age as moss hung around its edges. Before James could question it, a white raven flew down from the night sky before it perched on the slab.

    ¡°I¡¯m back here again¡­ Why?¡± James asked, his eyes searching around the lake.

    ¡°James Holter,¡± the raven suddenly spoke out, its voice a mixture between a man¡¯s and a woman¡¯s voice.

    ¡°What is this?¡± James muttered. He furrowed his brow as he stared at the albino bird.

    ¡°Watch over you, we do. Warning, we bring,¡± the raven called right before others of its kin joined it, the rest of them black-feathered. The white raven jerked its head to the side, its blue eye staring at James curiously.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s light is tainted upon those that hold the symbol of the seven-pointed sun. Do not trust them. Do not let them kill you,¡± the raven croaked before the rest of the ravens cawed. James watched as they all flew off, all but the white raven.

    ¡°What do I do?¡± James asked, confusion settling in his thoughts. The black waters rose to his shoulders, fully ready to submerge the young man beneath the lake. The blue-eyed raven cocked its head back to James before it croaked out one last time.

    ¡°Do as you must, but know this, James Holter. Your choices today will define you for who you truly are.¡± The raven opened its white feathered wings, taking off from the stone slab. James stared at the fleeing bird, his hands outstretched as the black waters of the lake that had once sent him to his death consumed him.

    <hr>

    James groaned awake, his dream still fresh in his mind. At least until pain flared in his side once more. The young man winced as he quickly sat up, his hand moving to his bandaged abdomen. Despite Bjorn pouring some of his advanced healing potion onto the open wound the night they fled, his wound still sent shocks of pain. The concoction of alcohol and potion had burned like hell, but it did the job well. James rubbed his bandages gently, remembering how he had slowly watched the bleeding wound healing on its own. The way his body had visibly repaired itself was a sight he could never get out of his head. Even when the potion had stopped the bleeding and repaired most of the damage, Dahlia still had to stitch the wound together.

    ¡°Dahlia,¡± James muttered, his head raising to see if he could find the shaman anywhere nearby.

    The inside of Frostbite was still relatively dark. That was because most of the windows and sources of light were covered up to ensure the injured slept and rested. James looked over at Seamus¡¯ sleeping figure, who snored lightly in his cot. He turned his sights to the gnome Seamus and Miles had saved during their time on the island. The elderly man, named Lowe, slept soundly in his isolated corner, his hands clutching onto what looked to be a cat statue.

    ¡®Remind me to ask Seamus about his¡­ guests,¡¯ James mentally commented to Faust. He had a lot to catch up on with the younger man.

    As James stood up from his sleeping area, his eyes passed over the other side of the ship, where the strange woman slept. She had her back turned to the rest of the deck as she slept; her bandaged wounds were visible from a distance. James wasn¡¯t sure if she was asleep but didn¡¯t want to lose a hand trying to check.

    The young man slowly approached the upper deck, climbing to the surface. James squinted as he stepped onto the main deck, the cloudy day still harsh to his sensitive eyes. He blinked briefly before focusing on the first person he saw.

    ¡°He lives!¡± a boisterous voice sounded out, the owner of it moving to greet James.

    ¡°Hey, Dimitri,¡± James greeted back, smiling a bit as he shook the shipmaster¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Glad to see you recovering well, my friend! I knew those filthy orcs couldn¡¯t kill you!¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± another voice called out in protest, catching both men¡¯s attention. James turned to see Silas on the deck of Frostbite, along with some of James¡¯ crew.

    ¡°How did you¡­?¡± James started before feeling someone¡¯s hand pat his shoulder.

    ¡°Haggard told us about the ship the night we left,¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice sounded out, the shaman walking into sight. ¡°Well, after Dimitri here tried to ram into it.¡±

    ¡°Lucky you guys missed,¡± Edmund¡¯s voice spoke up, the young mercenary resting nearby. ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for Archibald and me signaling to Frostbite that we were friendly¡­ well, it wouldn¡¯t have turned out so well for us.¡±

    ¡°So James. An entire ship full of orcs and freed prisoners,¡± Miles muttered, the masked man sitting on the deck, his hands cleaning up the sword he kept. James looked at everyone, noting their mixed emotions and clear apprehensiveness at the orcs on board.

    ¡°What do you plan to do next?¡± The masked mercenary asked, looking up at James with what the young man could assume was an expectant look. He noted how the rest of the mercenaries looked at him, including Bjorn and Archibald, who were resting next to some barrels. James looked at Silas, who was also looking at him with an expectant gaze. James sighed, rubbing his eyes as he turned to Dahlia. She had her arms crossed, looking at James as she waited for him to say something.

    ¡®Guess there¡¯s only one thing left to do¡­¡¯

    ¡°Nothing. There¡¯s nothing left,¡± James spoke out, the tiredness in his voice apparent. ¡°Thank you all for sticking with me this long, but the job¡¯s done. Dahlia will pay you.¡± The young man felt exhausted, spent, and burnt out. The mercenaries looked surprised, their heads perking up at James¡¯ words.

    ¡°That¡¯s it¡­?¡± Edmund asked, blinking.

    ¡°I thought there would be more,¡± Bjorn commented.

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s a job done,¡± Archibald muttered. Miles was silent, however, his hood hiding his masked face as he looked down at his sword.

    ¡°As for you,¡± James started, looking at the orc. ¡°Thank you for the help, but there¡¯s one last thing I need from you.¡± The young man stepped up to Silas, his eyes noticing the deck bridge leading to the longship they had stolen. He could see the freed prisoners on the deck, all sleeping or talking amongst each other.

    ¡°Do you think you can take them to a nearby settlement?¡± James asked before an idea formed in his head. ¡°Actually, do you think you can take the mercenaries to Vindis? Or wherever they want to get dropped.¡± James looked at Bjorn, who still seemed in bad shape. He knew the dwarf would get better care from a healer at Vindis than Yorktown. ¡°These guys, I mean.¡± James gestured towards the four hired men.

    Silas pondered at James¡¯ request before nodding. ¡°I will take them back to the city as long as someone can guide the ship there.¡±

    ¡°I can do it.¡± Archibald raised a hand, groaning as he stood up. ¡°I used to navigate ships for my house years ago. I can guide us to Vindis, no problem.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be coming as well,¡± Haggard called out, the man walking up the deck bridge.

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    ¡°Really, Haggard? Not going to stick around with us?¡± James asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m a drifter, my friend. I go wherever fate wishes me to go,¡± Haggard grinned, patting James¡¯ back. ¡°Besides, I was already going to leave after this quest of yours was done,¡± he admitted before moving to the deck bridge leading to the longship below. James turned to see Dahlia handing the gold payments to the mercenaries. Bjorn and Edmund gave their thanks as Archibald examined the coins. Miles was silent, however, the man ignoring the gold pieces as if they weren¡¯t there.

    Edmund was the first to head to the deck bridge, his hands placing the coins into his satchel.

    ¡°This¡­ This has been an experience. I hope life treats you well, friend,¡± he said. Edmund gave a small smile, which faltered a bit as he brushed his brown hair back. ¡°I also wanted to say thank you. For saving me back there,¡± he muttered before heading down the deck bridge.

    Archibald was next, his hands fidgeting with his rapier¡¯s sheath.

    ¡°These last couple of days have been nothing but a hellish experience. Filled with nothing but violence, disgust, and death. Still, I will admit, it was quite some experience. Farewell, James.¡± The elf sighed tiredly, moving to the longship like the previous mercenary.

    Finally, Bjorn stepped up, the hurting man clutching at his chest.

    ¡°Thanks for the opportunity to fight some mean bastards. Hate to say this, especially with the shite pay, but it was a pleasure fighting with you.¡± The dwarf grinned at James before heading after Archibald. James watched them all go before noticing Brant and Finn making their way to the deck bridge. James had forgotten about the two men Gryff had sent to help. He recalled when Brant took a full-on strike from the abomination back on the other island.

    ¡°You two are going with them?¡± James asked, confused about why the two men were heading to the deck bridge.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to Vindis to get Brant a proper healer. No offense to the shaman, of course, but his arm needs professional help if he wants to use it again,¡± Finn explained.

    ¡°None taken,¡± Dahlia called out as she watched from a distance.

    ¡°I see¡­¡± James rubbed at his chin, his head nodding slowly at Finn¡¯s words. ¡°Will you guys be able to return to your crew with Gryff?¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t need to. We can return to our home in the south of Valenfrost. We¡¯ll be fine,¡± Finn assured James.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll be sure to tell Gryff what happened.¡±

    ¡°Good, we¡¯ll be on our way, then. Safe travels, my friend,¡± Finn said with a small wave. James watched as the two men gave their last nods before they moved to cross the deck bridge.

    James turned to Miles, who was still sitting cross-legged as he cleaned something in his hands. James squinted, realizing that the mercenary was cleaning his grinning mask, which he had never taken off. Still, the hood obscured his face, leaving the ex-follower in mystery.

    ¡°Miles, you¡¯re not going with them? They¡¯re going to be headed to Vindis.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll stick with you for now. You don¡¯t have to pay me extra,¡± Miles spoke, his voice clear now that the wooden mask he held did not muffle it. The mercenary held up the now clean mask, which still had traces of soot and blood and some visible cracks in the corner. ¡°I just want to see how it ends,¡± he murmured before he placed the mask over his obscured face, adjusting it as he strapped it around his head. James stared at the mercenary for a solid few seconds before turning to Silas, who was giving Miles a strange look.

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s everyone, correct?¡± The orc asked, turning back to James.

    ¡°I guess¡­ What do you plan to do after?¡±

    ¡°Not entirely sure. Establishing networks in Valenfrost will be an arduous task, that is unless we work for someone else.¡± Silas looked down at James with a sort of expectant look.

    James sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not that kind of person. I¡¯m not even sure if I can really lead.¡±

    ¡°Really? Back at the island, you seemed to lead those prisoners pretty well, and your tactics with the gnomes were admirable,¡± Silas commended.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ debatable. Still, even if I wanted to lead you and your friends, I doubt the people back at Yorktown would accept orcs living there. Hell, they can barely accept me,¡± James explained.

    Silas seemed to be disappointed for a second, but he seemed to hide it as he let out a breath. ¡°Fair enough. My companions and I will do with what we have.¡± The orc nodded at James. ¡°Farewell, James. Have a safe trip back home. I hope we meet again under better conditions.¡± Silas flashed James a grin as he headed back to the longship.

    James watched as the orcs¡¯ crew moved around the deck to prepare their ship for sail. The deck bridge between the two vessels soon pulled back onto the other.

    ¡°Hey, Silas!¡± James called out to the orc. ¡°What do you plan on naming it?¡±

    Silas perked up at the question, his hand brushing through his coarse hair.

    ¡°Ah! I got an idea that you might like. Call it something inspired from the night we were liberated.¡± Silas gestured towards the longship, his voice boisterous. ¡°How does Draugr¡¯s Haunt sound?¡± The orc asked before the other orcs cheered in agreement. James blinked, unaware that Silas knew about the draugr incident.

    ¡®Or maybe, is it a coincidence? No. That orc, Fero, saw it. Shit.¡¯

    James watched as the orcs pulled at ropes and sails, the longship soon gaining movement. The people on board, including Haggard and the other mercenaries, waved goodbye to Frostbite. James raised his hand, waving back at the crew as they slowly sailed off.

    ¡°So¡­ Draugr¡¯s Haunt, huh?¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice suddenly spoke up from behind, making James jump in surprise.

    ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± James embarrassingly admitted.

    ¡°No need to tell me the details.¡± Dahlia waved off. ¡°Haggard and Bjorn already told me yesterday.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Eyes like fire, they said. Looked just like a Draugr. It¡¯s a miracle they kept themselves from telling the entire crew,¡± Dahlia muttered. ¡°What they didn¡¯t tell me, however, is whatever happened on the island. How and why you were covered in blood? How you got stabbed¡­¡± She frowned a bit, her eyes moving to James¡¯ bandages.

    ¡°It¡¯s feeling fine,¡± James assured her.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m worried about. What the hell happened back there?¡± Dahlia pressed further.

    Unsure of what to say to the shaman, James took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes before he glanced at Dimitri, who quickly looked away as he headed to command his crew.

    ¡°Sails down! Let¡¯s get moving!¡±

    Defeated, James gave a dejected sigh, looking back at Dahlia.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go sit down first. This is a long story.¡±

    <hr>

    Gryff sighed softly as he stepped out of the cave¡¯s entrance. The sun had already risen from the horizon.

    ¡°How long have I been in there?¡± he muttered, his hands reaching into his satchel. The knight brought out a small copper flask, unscrewing it before taking a swig from the container. The bitter taste of the cold liquid washed over his tongue, yet no reaction of disgust came from the man. He had long ago gotten so used to the stuff that it barely affected him, in both taste and use. The purpose of the drink, which was a sort of tea from Areno, was to wake up whoever consumed it.

    It was made with bitter-tasting beans from the distant continent yet had a fragrance that tantalized even Gryff. Still, the strange tea tended to slowly lose its potency the more Gryff drank it, which left him seeking even stronger blends from Arenian traders.

    ¡°Still drinking that crap, huh?¡± Hugo asked. The behemoth of a man was walking up the path that led to the mountainside cave.

    ¡°It¡¯s the only thing keeping me awake,¡± Gryff responded, his tired eyes looking back at the cave nearby.

    ¡°It¡¯s also why you waste so much coin back home,¡± Hugo muttered. ¡°Five queen pieces for a flask of it. What a ripoff.¡±

    ¡°It is, but unless you can find something that can keep me awake for days at a time, please do tell,¡± Gryff chuckled lightly.

    ¡°Did you do your divination magic on it?¡± Hugo asked, his head turning to the darkness of the cave.

    ¡°I did,¡± Gryff responded, closing his eyes as he envisioned the ley lines he had seen in that black pool of water. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ something else entirely,¡± he murmured. ¡°Such a powerful magic, yet completely strange.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Hugo turned to Gryff, his red eyes looking at the spellcaster with a look of curiosity. Gryff responded to his friend with a simple motion, his hand reaching into his armor. The knight pulled out a small leather object, his fingers holding it on display.

    It was a rugged thing, damaged by water and time. Gryff opened the small object and displayed its contents to the other man.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s mercy. That¡¯s him, isn¡¯t it?¡± Hugo muttered.

    ¡°It is,¡± Gryff confirmed. He turned the contents to himself, his eyes examining the picture of the blond man, whose tired eyes looking at the viewer. Despite having no beard, Gryff could recognize him easily. ¡°What did he say his name was? James Holter?¡± Gryff asked aloud, his eyes examining the strange dialect on the white card. It looked similar to Azuran, but the spellcaster still couldn¡¯t read it despite being fluent in other languages.

    ¡°What is that thing?¡± Hugo asked carefully.

    ¡°It¡¯s obviously something from his world,¡± Gryff answered, his hands picking out the moist pieces of paper inside the leather packet. They had the faces of men on them, with more of the strange dialect written on the light green notes.

    ¡°His world?¡± Hugo asked, confusion in his voice.

    ¡°Yes. James Holter is from another world. An Outlander,¡± Gryff explained. ¡°I found traces of it in the ley lines that his summoning affected. It was like when a demonologist summons a familiar. Bits of magic leftover from the place the summoned being was taken from.¡± Gryff closed the leather packet, pocketing it once more. ¡°With that information, added with whatever had happened in that shaman¡¯s hut, I am positive he is why the ley lines were fractured.¡±

    ¡°So, that¡¯s it then? We seal the source and capture James when he comes back? Make him answer for his crimes in Lumen City.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not as simple as that, I¡¯m afraid,¡± Gryff sighed tiredly, shaking his head as he started his walk back down the mountain.

    ¡°You can¡¯t seal the source here? Do we need to get more spellcasters to assist?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Gryff answered simply. He could easily seal the source himself, granted that he used a chunk of his reserves to do the deed. ¡°To seal up the source, we must first deal with the ones responsible. The shaman Dahlia and her friend, James Holter.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 38: Homeward

    Seamus yawned softly as he sat upon his cot, his sore body resting against the wooden hull of the ship. The sound of waves crashing relaxed the young man. He looked around the darkness of the deck below the surface, his eyes squinting through the scarce light.

    ¡°What time is it?¡± he muttered, rubbing his eyes as he attempted to get up.

    ¡°Noon, I presume.¡± Lowe¡¯s voice suddenly spoke up, the gnome sitting near the young man¡¯s cot.

    Seamus turned to the small man, not noticing him at all. ¡°How long have I been asleep?¡± The young man asked.

    ¡°A day at most. Most of yesterday was a blur. All I know is that we sailed all day yesterday and stopped this morning.¡±

    ¡°Stopped?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­ That fellow James sent off some of the crew on a longship earlier today.¡± The gnome sighed tiredly. ¡°Judging from what I heard, we¡¯re probably heading homeward,¡± Lowe muttered, rubbing his eyes as he yawned.

    ¡°Home,¡± Seamus echoed, his thoughts focusing on the small island Yorktown was on.

    ¡®That¡¯s right. Our quest is finally finished, isn¡¯t it?¡¯

    Seamus pondered before a small smile came over his tired lips. ¡°Thank Delphine,¡± the young man muttered as he rested against the hull, thanking the Goddess of Light herself.

    His smile faltered when he remembered the burning island they had left behind, the last reminder of his clan now burned to ash.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Seamus realized, recalling the humans the orcs took as prisoners.

    ¡°Your friend James saved the prisoners,¡± Lowe answered. He seemed to be one step ahead of Seamus. ¡°They were on that longship we came across the night we left.¡± Lowe seemed to still be clutching onto the cat ¡®artifact¡¯ from the vault, its golden exterior now covered in soot and even some dried-up blood.

    ¡°The longship¡­¡± Seamus recalled that night before he had passed out from exhaustion. Their vessel had encountered a black longship on the way out of the storm¡¯s borders, which had led to a large commotion that nearly resulted in Frostbite completely ramming through the ship.

    Fortunately, Haggard had informed everyone that the ship was friendly, which was supported by Edmund and Archibald¡¯s presence on board, waving their arms to signal to the ship¡¯s crew. Seamus couldn¡¯t remember much after that since he was already fading in and out of consciousness before he succumbed to his exhaustion.

    ¡°The elf and the mercenary who were on the ship. Where are they?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°Gone. Same with the freed prisoners. They¡¯re currently on their way to Vindis or whatever settlement your friend James sent them to,¡± the gnome explained. ¡°I can¡¯t remember. I was half awake when they left.¡±

    Seamus raised an eyebrow. ¡°Where¡¯s James now?¡± He asked, groaning as he stood up from his cot, his knees wobbling slightly as he felt the ship¡¯s slight movements over the waves of the sea.

    ¡°Above the deck. He¡¯s talking with that pleasant woman up there.¡± Lowe yawned again, slipping back into his small cot as he held his artifact.

    Seamus watched as the man returned to sleep, his eyes focused on the clean bandages he sported on his arm and torso.

    ¡°Pleasant woman¡­¡± Seamus couldn¡¯t help but chuckle a little, his head shaking as he turned to the steps that led up to the surface.

    <hr>

    Brant sighed softly as he watched the ship known as Frostbite sail away into the distance, its black sails billowing in the wind. He continued to watch it for a while, at least before it finally winked away into the horizon nearly an hour later. The warrior of the south sighed again, his eyes moving to focus on the crew he was now stuck with. The mixture of orcs and humans didn¡¯t seem to be the best thing for the ship, especially with the leader of the brutes giving orders to Haggard, who didn¡¯t seem keen on following them.

    ¡°Bite me,¡± Haggard responded venomously, the brute¡¯s leader taking the insult head-on as he scowled.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t want to get thrown off the ship, I suggest you help us guide this ship to Vindis,¡± Silas threatened.

    ¡°How about you try to throw me off? I¡¯ve killed enough of you bastards to know you¡¯re not all that tough.¡± Haggard and Silas seemed to want to go at each other¡¯s throats, but neither side seemed keen on going through with it.

    ¡°Hey, hey! Why don¡¯t we just calm down?¡± Edmund stepped up, trying to ease tensions between both sides.

    Brant shook his head as he watched the rest of the ship erupt into arguing and loud commotion, a clear divide between the orcs and humans.

    ¡°At this rate¡­ We¡¯ll be dead before we reach Vindis,¡± he muttered, his eyes moving to his friend and brother-in-arms, Finn. Brant caught the blond man fiddling with what looked to be a spell crystal, its color glowing a soft green before it turned into a lifeless gray.

    ¡°Is that¡­?¡± Brant raised an eyebrow as Finn tossed the spell crystal overboard.

    ¡°It is,¡± Finn answered simply, sighing as he sat down with Brant. ¡°Why are you giving me that look? Our job is done, right? It¡¯s only natural that we have to notify him.¡±

    ¡°It just seems strange that we must keep it a secret from everyone else.¡±

    ¡°Think nothing of it.¡± Finn waved his hand dismissively. ¡°After we get your arm fixed, we¡¯ll return home. Back to Jarl Ivan¡¯s lands.¡±

    Brant watched as his friend closed his eyes, the other man shifting to get comfortable in his seat.

    ¡®Jarl Ivan¡¯s lands,¡¯ Brant echoed mentally, his thoughts recalling home or what he called home. He lived on one of Jarl Ivan¡¯s islands, a small settlement bordering the southern edge of Valenfrost. Still, it wasn¡¯t a town like Yorktown, but more of a barracks and large camp for Jarl Ivan¡¯s men. Despite his brother-in-arms, Brant never liked his fellow warriors since they all seemed¡­ Disconnected. They only cared about the Jarl, nothing more, nothing less.

    ¡®Which is what we¡¯re supposed to be caring about, right? He provides a living for us and cares for us¡­ Right?¡¯

    Brant frowned as he recalled the times he had seen the Jarl who ¡®cared¡¯ for him. Ivan Falk of the South always seems to be in that chair of his, lazily ordering his men around. Ivan never seemed to be a capable leader since the Jarl usually focused on raiding other settlements and growing his small wealth. Hel, most of Ivan¡¯s men weren¡¯t even born into the clan. Brant himself used to be a homeless drifter until Finn saved him during the raid on a town Brant was visiting. Even then, the former drifter had only joined Ivan¡¯s clan for the promise of food and pay. Never in Brant¡¯s years of service had he seen Ivan act as a capable leader, nor even take risks that affected him personally.

    ¡®Unlike him¡­¡¯

    Brant recalled the one person who had gained admiration these last few days. James Holter, the man who had saved his life. The young man who had led their group successfully against the abomination that threatened Valenfrost. Even when he was shaken up, James still pushed on, even going up against orcs on that island he ventured out onto. He had freed prisoners and stolen a longship, even somehow striking a companionship with a damn orc, at least, from what Brant had heard from Haggard and the other members of the crew on Draugr¡¯s Haunt. They even named the damned longship after the man.

    ¡®I¡¯d rather follow him into battle rather than Ivan¡­¡¯

    Brant looked at the patch sown on his chest, the one that represented his clan. It represented a flying hawk, something that Ivan more than likely assumed himself to be.

    ¡®Is it truly worth risking my life for someone who would never do the same for me?¡¯

    His mind was made up, and Brant used his good hand to pull his knife out. He carefully cut the patch from his green tunic before finally throwing the meaningless symbol overboard.

    <hr>

    ¡°How far away is this Yorktown?¡± Liam¡¯s voice caught Helen¡¯s attention, ripping the ex-marauder out of her thoughts.

    ¡°Hm?¡± She turned to the ginger man, watching as he rephrased his question.

    ¡°Yorktown, how far away is it? We¡¯ve been sailing for quite a while now,¡± Liam pointed out to the cloudy sky, where the sun¡¯s light was hidden. Still, Helen had gotten so used to Valenfrost¡¯s short days and cloudy sky that she knew it was noon. Frostbite had left that orc-infested settlement with due haste nearly two days ago because Seamus and Haggard wanted to get as far away from the burning island as possible. Still, despite their small stop with that longship in the morning, Frostbite had been traveling south for hours without so much as a stop. Helen could understand why Liam seemed confused, as Yorktown was so far south that it was the unofficial eastern edge of Valenfrost.

    ¡°It¡¯s quite distant from Vindis. It took a whole day¡¯s journey for Frostbite to reach the city after we left Yorktown¡¯s port at dawn,¡± Helen admitted.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°It¡¯s that far?¡± Liam asked as he raised an eyebrow, his hand holding onto the wooden wheel that steered the brig.

    ¡°Yes, but we shouldn¡¯t be too far off now, judging from the map,¡± Helen muttered, her eyes glancing down at her small compass.

    ¡°I hear you¡¯ll be set free after this is all done, right?¡± Liam asked, his blue eyes turning to Helen with a curious glance. ¡°Are you planning on going home? Or does it involve that red hand on your chest?¡± The freckled man asked, his arm resting on the wheel as he kept it straight. Helen frowned, her eyes looking down at where her heart was. The familiar red handprint from Deimos was still stained against her black armor.

    ¡®Home¡­¡¯

    Helen wasn¡¯t even sure what was home anymore. Was it the pitched tents and constantly moving ships of the marauders? Was it the tightly compacted barracks back in the northern islands? Hel, was it back at Azurvale? The small hovel she had used to call home?

    ¡®Do I even have a home to go back to?¡¯ She wistfully thought before she recalled Haggard¡¯s situation. She remembered what the man had told her back at that bar in Vindis.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°Where do you plan to go once this is all done with?¡± She had asked the drunk man.

    ¡°Me? Wherever fate wants me to go¡­¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not really a sound thing to do¡­ You will not go back to your home?¡±

    ¡°Ha! Home?¡± The drunkard chuckled. ¡°I was told years ago that home is where your heart and family is¡­ Yet, look at me. The last of the Haggards, no family left.¡± He grinned after that despite the depressing words. Haggard had then impacted his fist against his chest. ¡°I only have my heart, which beats for the thrill of fighting. That is home enough for me.¡±

    </blockquote>

    Despite the words coming from a drunk man, Helen still hung onto that brief interaction with the drifter. Her eyes glanced over to her right, half expecting the idiot to be there, his confident grin and all. Yet there was nothing but the view of the infinite sea, fog covering nearly every inch. It looked how Helen felt. Empty, with no clear direction.

    ¡°Home,¡± she echoed aloud. Helen gazed back to the main deck, where James and Dahlia spoke.

    ¡®He¡¯s an outsider to Valenfrost. A drifter.¡¯

    Helen recalled what Dahlia had told her during their time on the ship. Just like Helen, James had no actual home.

    ¡®That¡¯s not true.¡¯

    James had a home. Yorktown had seemed to accept him, judging from how Dahlia and Felix trusted him. James Holter had a home to return to, something to look forward to after everything was done. Yet Helen had nothing but bad memories and a slight bruising around her neck.

    She looked over at Liam, who still awaited an answer from the ex-marauder.

    ¡°A plan after this is all done?¡± Helen repeated the question, her eyes moving to the black sails of Frostbite, which billowed against the wind. She sighed softly before muttering her answer to the wheelman.

    ¡°Wherever fate takes me, I suppose¡­¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°That¡¯s quite the story,¡± Dahlia muttered, watching James sit back on the barrel, his hand over his bandaged wound. She did not know what to think about the young man¡¯s retelling of the events that had transpired on that island. ¡°There weren¡¯t any abominations?¡± She asked, remembering the reason behind their quest.

    ¡°None. Only orcs and scared people,¡± James responded. ¡°Not even Faust sensed anything.¡±

    ¡°Sensed anything? Faust can sense them?¡± Dahlia leaned in closer, out of interest.

    ¡°Yeah. Back on the other island, he sensed the abomination nearby. I¡¯m not sure how it works, but he could sense their presence,¡± James explained.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Dahlia muttered, her mind digging through the information she held about spirits. Her thoughts touched upon wraiths, specters, and even revenants, but none seemed to harbor a similar ability.

    ¡®Then again. What James and Faust have is something special. Their situation is something I¡¯ve never heard of or even thought was possible.¡¯

    Dahlia looked at James, remembering how Haggard had told her about the scene James had made back on the island.

    The young man had grabbed the head of the orc who had stabbed him, which had caused the orc to scream out in agony as James¡¯ eyes flared blue. It was something that Dahlia never knew was possible, nor even what it was. All she knew was that James had excluded it from his version of what had happened.

    ¡°James, is there anything you¡¯re hiding from me?¡± The shaman asked softly.

    James seemed to avoid eye contact, his fingers fiddling by themselves as he sighed.

    ¡°You know, don¡¯t you?¡± he muttered.

    ¡°Haggard and Bjorn told me. They had explained to me that when you grabbed the orc¡¯s head, you screamed. Your eyes were also glowing. So bright, in fact, that they could see your skull. What happened?¡± The shaman whispered softly, leaning in to hear the young man better as he muttered back.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m not really sure.¡± James hesitated a little, his eyes avoiding hers. ¡°I did it twice on the island, the first one being on a complete whim. Faust had said he wanted to try something, and so I listened. I grabbed the orc¡¯s head, and everything went¡­ white.¡±

    James paused for a moment before continuing.

    ¡°It burned like hel and felt like my mind was clashing with the orc¡¯s. It was just like back when Faust and I first clashed. The second time, it was right after the bastard had stabbed me. I remember feeling angry, like I wanted to rip his jaw off. Then my hands went for his head.¡± James raised his hands in motion that described how he did it. ¡°It was the same as last time, but I kept holding for a little longer and saw things. Images of the sea, the ship, and other orcs. His memories.¡±

    Dahlia stared at James in disbelief, unsure how to process the new information.

    ¡®This is¡­ I don¡¯t even know what to call it. Memories? Clashing?¡¯

    Dahlia felt her thoughts running wild, trying to figure out what to make of this. Nothing in her head could even come close to explaining it, making it all the more frustrating to the shaman. This was something else entirely, a type of magic beyond her knowledge.

    ¡®What is happening to James and Faust?¡¯

    She looked at the man in front of her, focusing on his blue eyes, which showcased the look of someone who was tired and sleep-deprived. Yet she swore she could see something flash in those irises, something that hinted at more to the young man. Was it the spirit of Faust? Or was it James himself?

    Before she could speculate on an answer, Seamus¡¯ voice interrupted her inner conflict.

    ¡°Dahlia? James?¡±

    Both the shaman and young man turned to see their friend standing by the steps that led below the deck. His naturally bowl-shaped hair was a mess, and his birthmark was on display. Seamus looked as exhausted as James but thankfully didn¡¯t suffer from any injuries outside of a few scratches and an arrow that had pierced his leg.

    ¡°You¡¯re finally awake?¡± Dahlia asked, watching as Seamus made his way to a nearby crate, his hands opening it.

    ¡°Breakfast calls,¡± Seamus answered, his hand pulling out a couple of small biscuits from the open lid of the crate.

    ¡°There¡¯s food in those?¡± James suddenly asked, the blond man moving to join Seamus for a very late breakfast.

    Dahlia sighed as she turned to the starboard side of the ship, her eyes staring out into the never-ending waves. She had already eaten earlier that day, her meal comprising those rock-hard biscuits and some brewed tea. Dahlia couldn¡¯t wait to return to Yorktown and start cooking actual meals for herself instead of living on the rations and provisions Frostbite carried.

    ¡°Just a little longer, and we¡¯ll be right at home,¡± Dahlia muttered softly, her eyes moving to look ahead, where the fog still obscured the distance. Things still needed to be settled, like the Lumen Knights, James¡¯ exile, and the strange woman beneath the deck. Despite it all, Dahlia couldn¡¯t wait until the day was over so she could finally rest in her comfortable bed. Unfortunately for the shaman, it wouldn¡¯t be as simple. She couldn¡¯t help but get a bad feeling about today. As if something told her it wouldn¡¯t be as easy as she would assume.

    <hr>

    Gryff stared down at the spell crystal in his hand, its green glow signifying to the knight that the time for thinking had ended. James Holter had finished his quest and was returning to Yorktown. Gryff sighed as he clenched the crystal tightly, his eyes moving to look at the docked ships before him.

    ¡°Is that what I think it is?¡± Hugo asked from behind.

    ¡°It is,¡± the cryomancer muttered.

    ¡°Pity. These people won¡¯t have a clue, will they?¡±

    ¡°The less they know, the easier it¡¯ll be,¡± Gryff stated. ¡°Gather our soldiers and Ivan¡¯s men. The quicker we do this, the quicker we seal the fractures.¡±

    The behemoth nodded in agreement, his heavy feet moving him to the town.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get on it right away. Are you going to write back to him? The Wizard?¡± Hugo asked, his lumbering form stopping halfway through the harbor.

    Gryff nodded. ¡°I am. In the meantime, however, we should prepare to enact our initial plan. Once the soldiers are gathered, we should head on our way to meet our friend James before he arrives. The faster we finish this¡­¡±

    ¡°The faster we fix everything,¡± Hugo finished before heading off without another word.

    Gryff sighed as he turned back to the small crystal in his hand. It was cracked now, and its green light was now vacant. He hadn¡¯t fully recovered from his last divination spell, which had tanked many of his magical reserves. Despite this, the knight was far from weak. He could easily win in a fight against those town guards and that veteran in Yorktown. Still, Gryff had to leave that up to his soldiers and those green tunic warriors Ivan had sent. He was responsible for extracting the samples from James and dealing with him personally.

    ¡®Will it be that simple?¡¯

    Gryff frowned a little, his hand tossing the dead crystal aside. He knew better than to underestimate the young man and his friends, especially with what he had heard happened the last time he was put up against such odds.

    ¡®Held off an invading group of marauders and killed a deadly creature while at it.¡¯

    It wasn¡¯t any group of marauders, but the ones led by the infamous outlaw Deimos, more commonly referred to by his other name, the Red Death of the North. That the Red Death left a ship for James was more than a warning to Gryff that the young man was more capable than he looked. The same went for that shaman who had accompanied him the entire battle.

    ¡°Still, he probably won¡¯t be much of a problem if I catch him off guard,¡± Gryff muttered. With the right timing, he could finish his task before nightfall. The knight moved his hand into his armor, pulling out a rolled piece of parchment, its edges crisp and clean. He unrolled it, reading through what he wrote for his report.

    After making sure he spared no details, Gryff rolled it back up. He tied it in a small string and brought out a small wax stick. He cut off a sliver of the red wax before pressing it against the roll of parchment with his ring. After he chanted a few choice words, Gryff melted the wax with his heated silver ring, imprinting the seven-pointed symbol of Delphine in the wax seal.

    ¡°Beautiful.¡± Gryff smiled before holding up the roll of parchment. ¡°Avate Ignis,¡± the Lumen Knight muttered, snapping his fingers at the parchment. A small red rune appeared in front of the parchment before it soon lit up into flames. The engulfing flames died out as fast as they came, disappearing with the parchment and leaving nothing but a few burning embers.

 B.2 Chapter 39: Storms Calm

    Krik felt the wind brush through his bald scalp, and his hand moved to scratch at the ax head still buried in his skull.

    ¡°Krik!¡± one orc shouted out from behind. ¡°How much longer until we catch up to those bastards?¡±

    ¡°Patience! We must be careful so they won¡¯t spot us!¡± Krik shouted back, feeling how his chest burned with pain as he spoke. He could still feel the hammer strike from that asshole back in the clearing. It was a miracle he survived the Power Strike, which was a testament to his hatred towards the humans who had burned their encampment and island to ashes.

    Blood-Irk had sent the orcs out to find the bastards responsible and bring their heads back. It would¡¯ve been impossible without the help of their tribe¡¯s shaman, who used the blood from a dagger that had stabbed one human to find out where he was. Krik looked down at the strange runic compass, its red-tinted needle pointing straight ahead. According to the shaman, the needle would continuously point toward the human whose blood tainted it. The magic would only last for twelve hours, but it would be enough for Krik and his crew to figure out where the human bastards were hiding out.

    He squinted through the fog ahead, hoping the compass didn¡¯t lie about the human¡¯s location. Krik gently put a hand to his hurting chest, which was partially healed by the same shaman who had given him the compass. He sincerely hoped the hammer-wielding bastard was with that human, for Krik had unfinished business with him. Krik turned to his crew, which comprised several orcs and a couple of armored goblins.

    ¡®With this, we¡¯ll be able to kill those bastards, especially that human, Haggard.¡¯

    Krik shifted back to the oncoming waves, watching as their longship easily broke the waves. Once their mission was done, the orcs would return to their original encampment far east of Valenfrost, near the Abyssal Sea. It wasn¡¯t as fruitful nor as big as the island they were on previously, but it would do until they regained strength. Blood-Irk will have a plan then. He always had a plan.

    <hr>

    Seamus tried his best to swallow the rest of his meal, the tasteless biscuit making his throat drier than the Arenian desert. He quickly took a quick swig from his waterskin, which was still filled with Dahlia¡¯s tea. Seamus resisted the urge to gag as he washed down the biscuit with the horcus tea.

    ¡°Are you choking?¡± James suddenly asked, the blond man currently nibbling on his biscuit as he watched Seamus cough and slightly gag.

    Seamus punched his chest as he forced a swallow, his food finally going down as he regained his breath.

    ¡°I¡¯m alright¡­ I¡¯m alright¡­¡± He managed out in a cough, taking another swig from his waterskin once more as he washed down the rest of his late breakfast.

    Both men were resting by the mainmast, watching crew members work their way around the ship, adjusting sails and eating lunch as they moved.

    ¡°How do they even eat this?¡± Seamus muttered, watching a crewmate bite out of one biscuit as if it were an apple.

    ¡°Easy. They don¡¯t scarf down the whole thing in one try,¡± James joked as he took a small bite out of his biscuit.

    Seamus couldn¡¯t help but chuckle a little. ¡°You can¡¯t blame me for being hungry. I ran half an island, you know! Plus, I haven¡¯t eaten since I¡¯ve been asleep.¡± He grabbed another of the biscuits he had by his side. He took a page from James¡¯ book, nibbling on the biscuit this time.

    ¡°Can I ask you about what happened back there? Back on the island,¡± James suddenly asked, washing down his food with his waterskin.

    Seamus frowned a little, his eyes focusing on the biscuit-shaped rock in his hand. ¡°What do you want to know?¡±

    ¡°Anything that you¡¯re willing to tell me.¡± James glanced back at Seamus. ¡°If you don¡¯t want to detail anything, that¡¯s fine.¡± He assured the young man.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine, it¡¯s just¡­ It¡¯s a very long story,¡± Seamus explained. James smiled a bit.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine with that. We have time.¡±

    ¡°All right then. I guess I should start back when we got separated.¡± Seamus rested his head against the wooden mast, closing his eyes as he thought back to the clearing.

    Seamus recapped the events that had transpired after Lilith had inadvertently saved them all, explaining to James how she had protected and saved Seamus that day. He explained how Miles had saved the imprisoned gnome they had seen at Aldren earlier that day and how Lowe had convinced them to go after the vault.

    ¡°So you went for an artifact? Did you find it?¡± James asked out of curiosity.

    ¡°We did, but it wasn¡¯t what I had expected.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡± Seamus sighed, remembering the cat statue and what Lowe had hinted at.

    ¡®An artifact that can decide the fate of men¡­¡¯

    Seamus still wasn¡¯t sure if Lowe was telling the truth or was growing senile.

    ¡®Let¡¯s hope for the former.¡¯

    ¡°What else did you guys find in the vault?¡± James asked, his question cutting through the younger man¡¯s thoughts.

    Seamus suddenly remembered that he was in the middle of a story, his head turning to James as he responded.

    ¡°There was a lot more in there than I had initially thought. Weapons, bits of armor, and even some works of art,¡± Seamus detailed. ¡°But it¡¯s all buried now,¡± he added in a mutter.

    ¡°Buried?¡±

    ¡°Well, Miles had devised a plan of action because orcs were trying to get in. He ended up blowing half the vault to hel, nearly caving in the place,¡± Seamus explained, recalling the moment he had seen Miles light up his ignitor, which had lit up a small oil trail that led to the barrels by the doors. Any memory after that was fuzzy; the only thing clear to Seamus was that they had to get out of there before the vault caved in. He could only remember running after that.

    ¡°To be fair, those barrels were filled to the brim with oil,¡± Miles suddenly called out from across the deck. ¡°I¡¯m hardly to blame for miscalculating their volatility.¡±

    Seamus turned to the cross-legged ex-follower, whose mask was returned to its former eggshell white. ¡°You¡¯re still here? I thought you had left with the other mercenaries.¡±

    ¡°I wanted to stay, see things out,¡± Miles responded, his grinning head resting on a fist. ¡°If nothing interests me today, I¡¯ll return to Vindis.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re wasting your time,¡± Seamus muttered in response.

    As terrifying as the Lumen Knights were, Seamus knew better than to assume they would try anything in Valenfrost. He knew about the Outsider Wars, how the Lumen Kingdom had made a truce with the clans of Valenfrost for fear of another war breaking out. If anything were to happen to Yorktown, all of Valenfrost would cry out for war. At least, if the other clans found out. Seamus¡¯ chest then tightened at those thoughts. If the other clans found out.

    ¡®They wouldn¡¯t try anything. Would they?¡¯

    Seamus gulped, his fear of the knights soon igniting in his chest.

    ¡°You alright?¡± James suddenly asked, gently nudging Seamus¡¯ shoulder.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just seasickness,¡± Seamus lied, looking down at his biscuit. He had lost his appetite now, his stomach tying itself into knots as his thoughts ran wild with possibilities of today. It certainly didn¡¯t help that Miles¡¯ beady eyes were looking at him with interest.

    ¡°I got an island in sight! Ship departing from its port,¡± a crewmate suddenly shouted out, catching everyone¡¯s attention.

    ¡®Ship departing port?¡¯

    Seamus turned to watch Helen slowly move up to the ship¡¯s bow, her feet careful not to trip in her shackles. She looked out into the distance, her blue eyes squinting out into the mist, which had obscured the horizon for the last few hours. After some time, Helen returned to the rest of the ship, her hands signaling to Dimitri.

    ¡°That¡¯s Yorktown. It looks like the ship departing is one of those royal ships. I guess those knights want to meet us halfway,¡± Helen spoke out, her feet moving to the nearby entrance that led below the deck. ¡°My job is already done here as a navigator,¡± she proclaimed, a small grin on her lips. ¡°Seamus, come and help me out of these shackles. My part of the deal is done.¡± Helen gestured towards the steps before walking down them herself.

    Seamus sighed, deciding to push his paranoia down as he stood up. He was being a paranoid fool for believing that the knights would do something so heinous.

    Right?

    <hr>

    Felix peeked from his hiding spot behind the burnt building, watching as the Lumen soldiers and green tunics walked through the town, gathering the townspeople as they called for a meeting in the town hall. Felix knew better as he slinked back into the shadows of the alleyway. His feet took him away from the sight of the soldiers, who gathered men and women of the town. He headed to the training center, where the trainees were still learning from Harald. It would only be a matter of time before the soldiers reached the training center and coerced the class into coming with them.

    Felix snuck past some more soldiers, hoping that most of the townsfolk would realize what was happening before the soldiers gathered them all in one spot.

    ¡®I just hope Nora won¡¯t be a damn idiot and assist the bastards.¡¯

    He slipped into another alleyway unnoticed. Felix made his way through Yorktown, carefully sneaking past soldiers and green tunics alike. Before long, the guardsman found his way to the edge of town, his feet moving quickly as he headed toward the training center. The guardsman felt his hood push back from a chilly breeze, exposing his sweat-dampened hair as he sprinted his way. Soon enough, Felix could see the distant training center where Harald was still teaching his students the basics of defense.

    ¡°Harald!¡± Felix called out, his run slowing as he reached the class of guardsmen in training. The old veteran turned around to Felix, his eyebrow raised in confusion. ¡°Those Lumen bastards are gathering everyone in the town center for a meeting.¡±

    ¡°A meeting?¡± One trainee asked, crossing his arms as he looked at Felix. The other trainees murmured a mix of responses, all confused about why Felix was worried. Harald, however, seemed to have understood why the guardsman was so worried.

    ¡°Where are the knights?¡± Harald asked, stepping towards Felix with a furrowed brow.

    ¡°They left. Went off on their ship,¡± Felix managed out in a breath. He was still trying to recover from the toll on his lungs and legs from running across town. ¡°They¡¯re heading towards the Frostbite. James¡¯ ship.¡±

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°James is back?¡± One trainee, Kate, asked out of surprise.

    Felix waved her off. ¡°We can focus on that later. Now we have to deal with the soldiers here.¡±

    The trainees all exchanged confused looks, unsure of what Felix was saying.

    ¡°Wait, the soldiers?¡±

    ¡°You mean the ones who¡¯ve been living here the last few days?¡±

    ¡°I thought they were friendly?¡±

    Their voices overlapped, apparent confusion among them as they spoke and argued.

    ¡°Quiet!¡± Harald suddenly called out, shutting up all the young trainees. The veteran appeared deep in thought, his eyes closed as he scratched his graying stubble. Felix could hear him muttering something under his breath but couldn¡¯t make out what he was saying.

    After some awkward silence, Harald finally opened his eyes, his head turning to the trainees.

    ¡°As of now, you are all guardsmen,¡± he suddenly proclaimed. Hushed muttering sounded out from the trainees, more confusion in the air.

    ¡°What is happening?¡± One trainee suddenly spoke out, her voice quieting everyone else¡¯s. She moved through the crowd before stepping out. It was Kate Rowan, one of the more promising recruits in Harald¡¯s class. Felix remembered her father, Michael Rowan, who had died with many of the town¡¯s guardsmen on that fateful night days ago. He was one of the men who signed up to the guardsmen after watching James Holter fight and lose to Deimos.

    The trainees mumbled their agreements with Kate, their eyes focusing on Felix expectantly, awaiting an explanation from the guard. Felix hesitated, unsure of what to say to them.

    Before he could come up with an answer, Harald stepped up.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening is that the Lumen Knights want to clean us out. Burn Yorktown down like the marauders tried to do. We¡¯re not sure why, but we will not let that happen,¡± the veteran explained. All the trainees looked hesitant, and some even looked outright terrified. Still, none of them protested, for this was the reason they had joined the town guard in the first place.

    ¡°Sir,¡± another guardsman spoke, who Felix recognized as Dirk, the youngest of the class. ¡°If we¡¯re really going to go against these soldiers, do we at least have some kind of plan?¡±

    ¡®A plan.¡¯

    Felix pondered the words, his mind searching for anything related to tactics. However, the only thing he could think of was a particular plan James had devised weeks ago when the marauders had raided Yorktown.

    ¡®What did he call it? Guerilla tactics?¡¯

    It sounded like a good plan back when James explained it, with Harald backing it up. Unfortunately, it had all gone to hel so quickly that Felix had no time to enact his part of the plan. The soldiers were currently converging in the town, completely oblivious to its layout and alleyways. If Felix and his men moved swiftly, they could seize the advantage over them.

    ¡®It would mean death for some,¡¯ Felix grimly thought. ¡®Even with our numbers.¡¯

    He knew damn well that no plan ever worked smoothly and that, at the end of the day, people would die on both sides. Felix recalled the grisly moment he had bashed a marauder¡¯s head against the ground, his first actual kill. It still haunted him, even though he had no other choice.

    Felix raised his sights to the guardsmen in training, who were all still staring at him, expecting a plan from the archer.

    ¡°I have a plan in mind,¡± he started, his voice and demeanor confident despite his nerve-racking thoughts. ¡°Before we can enact it, however, we need to get you all geared up.¡±

    <hr>

    Gryff watched the distant figure of Frostbite approach slowly, its black sails becoming visible through the fog. The Lumen Knight sighed as he looked off the railing of Luna, which was currently moving through the black waters, albeit at a snail¡¯s pace. They were en route to meet Frostbite halfway so that Gryff could express his ¡®congratulations¡¯ to James and his friends for successfully completing their quest.

    Hopefully, James wouldn¡¯t have to put up much of a fight. Even if he and his friends resisted, Gryff¡¯s ship had its crew of soldiers, all of whom were moving to steer the ship straight at the ex-marauder ship in the distance. Hugo was nearby, his halberd in hand, as he watched the oncoming ship grow closer. Gryff looked back at Yorktown, where his soldiers would gather up the townsfolk and soon wipe them out. He had some worries about the guardsman and that veteran who was instructing the new trainees. Still, he decided that would be a later problem. If his men couldn¡¯t take them out before Gryff was done with James, then the cryomancer would have to finish the job for them.

    Gryff frowned a little as he turned back to the incoming ship Frostbite. It would only be a matter of time before their ships met.

    ¡®I hope he does put up a fight. Delphine knows that I¡¯ve been wanting a good scuffle for ages.¡¯

    Gryff rarely ever had to go all out, so he sincerely hoped this James fellow and shaman Dahlia would put up a good fight.

    ¡°Ah¡­ but that¡¯s too much to ask for, right?¡± He chuckled lightly. Maybe after all this was over, he would hunt down that Red Death of the North. Maybe he would put up an actual fight compared to the many marauders Gryff had already slaughtered all those years ago. Gryff turned to Hugo, realizing his friend most likely felt the same. Hugo had always voiced his frustrations on being bored during their trips, with no one else to fight but weaklings.

    ¡°Soon, my friend,¡± Gryff muttered, almost as if he could hear the brutish man¡¯s introspections. He had seen Hugo fight before and had watched the man take on an ogre all by his lonesome. It would only be natural that Hugo would want a challenge.

    ¡°Sir, a moment of your time,¡± one soldier suddenly caught Gryff¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Yes?¡± Gryff asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched the soldier nervously fiddle with his sword¡¯s pommel.

    ¡°I want to know your plans with the prisoner below,¡± the soldier spoke quickly, not wasting his breath on pointless apologies or filler. Gryff raised his eyebrow in confusion, unsure what ¡®prisoner¡¯ the soldier was talking about. The soldier seemed to have realized the knight¡¯s confusion and spoke once more to clarify, ¡°The bandit, sir. The one we captured days ago?¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes! Bron, was it not? The elf we interrogated. I have forgotten about the little guy,¡± Gryff chuckled, remembering the terrified knife-ear. Bron was the one who had led them to Yorktown, after all. ¡°He¡¯s still alive? I had thought we killed him ages ago?¡±

    ¡°No sir, he¡¯s still locked up below. Would you like to have us kill him now?¡±

    Gryff pondered the bandit¡¯s life for a moment. He had almost immediately waved his hand at the soldier, ordering for the elf below to have his throat cut and thrown overboard. He instead held his tongue, realizing that it wouldn¡¯t be the best look for Gryff if James and the rest of his crew watched the knight dump a corpse into the sea.

    ¡°We can kill him later,¡± Gryff decided. ¡°No time to do the deed, anyway. We¡¯re already coming up to the other ship,¡± he pointed out, the black sails of Frostbite growing even closer to where Luna sat in the waters.

    ¡°Get the men ready to board the ship,¡± Gryff ordered, waving the soldier away as he walked up to the bow of the ship, where Hugo stood.

    ¡°How is this going to go?¡± The other man asked, his red eyes looking down at Gryff with an expectant look.

    ¡°Like usual,¡± Gryff shrugged. ¡°Quickly and cleanly. I¡¯ll take care of the main deck, and you take care of whatever is below. Maybe even find a challenge down there.¡±

    ¡°I doubt it,¡± Hugo murmured, causing Gryff to look at his friend with raised eyebrows.

    ¡°Hugo Ardel, not wanting to kill the first thing in sight? Who is this imposter, and what have they done with my friend?¡± Gryff joked as he chuckled.

    Hugo shook his head in amusement, his deep laugh befitting a man his size. ¡°Perhaps I¡¯m growing tired of battle. It has been so long since I had felt the genuine thrill of a fight.¡±

    ¡°You speak for both of us, brother,¡± Gryff answered in a low mutter, watching Frostbite grow closer.

    <hr>

    James watched as the royal ship slowly approached Frostbite¡¯s flank, the armored soldiers onboard visibly moving around as they prepared to board. Despite the frigid cold of Valenfrost, James could feel cold beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His fist clenched onto the satchel Gryff had given him days ago, the one containing the crystals of the abominations James and Dahlia had encountered back on the two islands.

    ¡°Nervous?¡± Dahlia asked, the shaman by his side as they both watched the royal ship near Frostbite¡¯s port, a boarding bridge visible on their side. Miles and the rest of the crew watched the ship as it grew closer, the ex-follower strangely silent during all of this.

    ¡°Just a little,¡± James lied to the shaman with a confident smile, hoping she wouldn¡¯t catch onto it. Dahlia smiled back at James, her lips faltering with what looked like hesitation.

    ¡®I guess she¡¯s feeling the same, huh?¡¯

    ¡®I don¡¯t blame her. Lumen Knights tend to kill with little reason,¡¯ Faust¡¯s words echoed throughout James¡¯ mind.

    ¡®I seem to remember a certain Centurion that killed a knight who was willing to let him live,¡¯ James shot back, recalling when both of them had experienced Faust¡¯s memory of killing Leonard Kord.

    ¡®That was¡­ It was something I did on instinct.¡¯ Faust responded.

    ¡®Instinct? You drove a sword through his fucking throat and hammered it home. That¡¯s intent, not instinct,¡¯ James mentally replied with veiled hostility.

    ¡®James, when your blood is on the line, you change into a completely different person. The haze of bloodlust clouds your judgment, and you do things you come to regret.¡¯

    Faust¡¯s words rang through James¡¯ head, whose own thoughts returned to when he had fought Deimos. He could still remember how his blood ran down his forehead and lips, the taste of copper soon turning sweet. He remembered how he had grinned, the pain in his body evaporating as if it had never been there. In some ways, it was similar to what he had felt during Faust¡¯s memory.

    James recalled that day. The urge of wanting to kill Deimos, to drive his short sword into the marauder¡¯s chest. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was himself in control or something deeper. Something primal.

    ¡®Adrenaline is one hell of a drug.¡¯

    Before he could contemplate further, the royal ship finally docked at Frostbite¡¯s port. They attached the boarding bridge to both decks, and the Lumen Knights soon moved onto Frostbite with their companions. James watched as Gryff walked across the boarding bridge, his hands behind his back as his huge companion followed him. A group of half-armored soldiers came across the bridge, around seven following the behemoth. James looked at the group of men, confusion and paranoia settling in his stomach as he watched them examine the deck¡¯s occupants.

    ¡°You got yourself a crew, I see,¡± Gryff muttered aloud, his hand moving to sweep his black hair back. James turned back to the Lumen Knight, who walked with clasped hands.

    ¡°Yeah, we needed their help to get to the islands,¡± James explained. He watched as Gryff slowly approached him, his boots on the wooden planks being the only sound on deck.

    ¡°Where are the two warriors I sent with you?¡±

    ¡°Brant and Finn? They left on another ship heading to Vindis,¡± James responded.

    ¡°Brant was injured badly during our exploration on one island, so Finn wanted to get a healer who could fix his broken arm,¡± Dahlia explained.

    The spellcaster seemed to take in Dahlia¡¯s words before he gave a soft sigh.

    ¡°It really doesn¡¯t matter in the grand scheme of things, but good for them.¡± Gryff shrugged off the explanation as if the two men meant nothing to him. Then again, they probably did mean nothing to the knight. ¡°Do you have the samples I asked of you?¡± the knight asked.

    James raised his satchel, shaking a little to signify that the vials full of crystals and flesh were in there. Gryff seemed pleased to hear the sound of vials shaking, his hand reaching out to accept the satchel. James slowly brought the satchel to the Lumen Knight¡¯s extended palm, ready to pass off the samples.

    Time came to a sudden crawl. James noticed the behemoth moving past him and Dahlia, followed by some soldiers. He was about to ask what the man was doing but was interrupted by Gryff muttering something under his breath, which broke the young man¡¯s train of thought. Just as James turned to the cryomancer, something unbearably cold glanced by his right cheek. His eyes widened as he watched the shard of ice pass by in slow motion, inches away from his skin.

    Time resumed to normal, and James¡¯ overheated body was positioned at a weird angle. It took him a second to realize that Faust had forced his body to dodge.

    ¡°What the¡ª?¡±

    ¡®Watch out!¡¯

    As James turned back to face forward, he suddenly found himself staring at the incoming boot of the Lumen Knight. With a swift and forceful kick, it struck him in the chest. Air rushed out of his lungs as he felt his back hit the mast, his ribs emanating pain as he grappled for breath. James looked up to see Dahlia quickly back away from Gryff, who was standing idly as if nothing had happened.

    ¡°Impressive. Few people can dodge my spells.¡± The Lumen Knight grinned as he held up his fingers, which glowed a soft blue.

    ¡°Ice Lance.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 40: Quickly and Cleanly

    ¡°Just a little¡­¡± Seamus sighed in frustration as he fiddled with the lock that kept Helen¡¯s shackles in place. The key used to open it was getting jammed inside, proving it a challenge for the young man to unlock it fully.

    ¡°Oh, for Delphine¡¯s sake. How hard is it to use a bloody key?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s stuck! Don¡¯t blame me. You must¡¯ve gotten this lock dirty or something,¡± Seamus muttered as he forcefully twisted the key. There was then a familiar click, the key finally turning all the way as the shackles came loose. ¡°Got it!¡± Seamus said, finally satisfied.

    Helen dropped her chained cuffs to the ground, sighing as she stretched her arms.

    ¡°Fucking finally. Freedom,¡± she said with a grin, an action that, for some reason, creeped Seamus out. The ex-marauder rotated her shoulder, her blue eyes looking down at the young man who freed her. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. It¡¯s just that¡­ What¡¯re you going to do once you leave?¡± Seamus knew she couldn¡¯t return to the marauders.

    ¡°Mercenary work for sure. Then again, I¡¯m going to get rid of this symbol first.¡± Helen sighed as she rubbed at the red handprint stained on her chest. As she contemplated, Seamus focused on the other side of the deck, where Lilith rested in the farthest corner. He could see Lowe at the other corner, polishing the small cat statue he held.

    ¡°Do you mind if I ask about who those two are?¡± Helen stepped up to Seamus¡¯ side, crossing her arms.

    ¡°Well, the gnome worked with my father, and the woman is an orc butcher who saved my life,¡± Seamus explained. He had no desire to elaborate further. ¡°She also might be related to me.¡±

    ¡°That red hair seems familiar. Is she from Azurvale?¡±

    ¡°No, Lilith was a native who spent her life on the island. The same island we burned down.¡±

    Helen visibly cringed at that. ¡°Tough,¡± she muttered.

    Lilith seemed to have been focused on her own thing, her eyes focused on cleaning the ax she still held. Seamus couldn¡¯t help but feel guilt towards her, as the last vestiges of her home were most definitely burned to cinders.

    ¡®I wonder if anything on that island has survived the fire. We¡¯ll have to check once we¡¯re sure those orcs are gone.¡¯

    Suddenly, there was the sound of something pushing against Frostbite, her deck slightly moving beneath everyone¡¯s feet. Lilith tensed up, her hands gripping the nearby barrels as Lowe fell back onto the deck.

    Seamus kept his balance, his eyes looking at the ship¡¯s hatch.

    ¡°Did those knights finally arrive?¡± he wondered aloud. Then, the sound of many boots above them was heard, signaling to Seamus that his hunch was right. ¡°How many people do you need to retrieve a bag of vials?¡±

    ¡°Lumen Knights always like to make a show of even the simplest things, believe me.¡± Helen waved off Seamus¡¯ words as she went to sit on a nearby crate.

    ¡°Still, it bothers me. Why would they meet us out here instead of back in Yorktown?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°Perhaps they¡¯re in a rush. They¡¯re probably going home right after this.¡± The ex-marauder shrugged.

    ¡°What about that other ship they came in with?¡±

    Helen scowled, clearly frustrated with the young man. ¡°Drop it, Seamus. Quit worrying and rest, will ya?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s just that¡­ Everything feels so off.¡± Seamus couldn¡¯t explain his natural alarm to her. He wasn¡¯t sure if she would even believe he had such a thing.

    ¡®Something is wrong,¡¯ he thought with frustration. His instincts practically screamed at him, demanding he run away as fast as possible.

    ¡°Seamus, there is nothing to be paranoid about. Just sit and¡­ rest¡­¡± Helen trailed off as she stared off at something behind Seamus. Before the young man could ask, his body suddenly tensed up. There was the sound of armored footsteps running down steps, accompanied by a cold and terrifying presence.

    ¡°The boy is right to be paranoid,¡± a voice called out. Seamus slowly turned around, only to be met by the sight of four armed soldiers. A behemoth covered in heavy steel armor accompanied them, his hand holding onto a halberd equal to his size. ¡°Then again, I doubt it would¡¯ve made a difference if you both had prepared for a fight,¡± the giant spoke.

    Seamus felt fear grip his heart, his palms instantly turning sweaty and shaken. The young man remembered the giant¡¯s name from when his friend had introduced them both to the town hall. Hugo of House Ardel stepped forward, an armored finger pointed at Seamus and Helen.

    ¡°Quickly and cleanly,¡± Hugo spoke out, the soldiers moving in to follow his orders.

    <hr>

    James scrambled as he avoided the strike from the soldier, his feet scrambling away from the other man¡¯s blade.

    ¡°Shit! Dahlia!¡± he called out as he searched for the shaman. She was doing the same as James, quickly backing away from a soldier¡¯s mace. Unfortunately for him, he foolishly took his eyes away from the man trying to gut him.

    The soldier took the chance to strike down at James, who had noticed his attack too late. However, before the sword could effectively land the killing blow, the soldier¡¯s swing was thrown off by a sudden kick to his arm. His blade missed the blond man by centimeters, the edge burying itself onto the deck. The soldier cursed loudly, moving to see who had kicked at him. He was suddenly knocked back by the end of a bottle, which broke once it made contact with the soldier¡¯s helm, its golden contents spilling everywhere.

    ¡°What a waste of good mead,¡± a familiar Russian-sounding voice said. The voice¡¯s owner shoved away the stunned soldier, sending him stumbling onto the deck. James turned to see Dimitri standing nearby, a broken bottle in his hand. ¡°Consider this a debt repaid.¡±

    The shipmaster grinned at James before helping the young man up. Once standing, both men got a better view of the situation. Dahlia was currently avoiding the strikes of one soldier while another fought with Miles. These, plus the one that had nearly killed James, were the only royal soldiers on deck, excluding Gryff.

    ¡®What happened to the other four? And that big guy?¡¯

    Realization hit James like a truck. He remembered seeing the behemoth and his men head towards the steps that led below the deck.

    ¡®Seamus, Helen, and the rest. They¡¯re all down there.¡¯

    His heart sank in fear. James turned to look for the steps, but before he could do anything, the soldier from before had recovered. His hands took off his mead-soaked helmet, eyes smoldering with anger as he looked upon the shipmaster who struck him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll kill you for that you¡ª!¡±

    ¡°Quiet!¡± Gryff¡¯s voice suddenly thundered throughout the air, making everyone pause as they looked toward the Lumen Knight. The knight stood idly by the boarding bridge, his hands behind his back as he watched the entire conflict. James recalled when he had dodged two of the man¡¯s spells earlier, the second one nearly nailing his arm to the mast. Strangely, despite being the jumpstart of the conflict, Gryff had taken a backseat in the fight as his men fought the crew of Frostbite. Now, it seemed like he had changed his mind for the third time.

    Gryff used his hand to gesture towards James and Dahlia.

    ¡°Leave these two to me. Take care of the rest of the crew.¡±

    The men all gave Gryff confused looks but didn¡¯t question their orders. James watched as the soldiers diverted their attention to everyone else, ignoring him and the shaman. He saw how the soldier from earlier approached Dimitri with a drawn sword, eyes burning with hatred. James tried to intervene but was interrupted by a shard of ice grazing his torso. It whistled as it missed, its point piercing the mast nearby. James stared at the lance of ice, which was clearly meant as a warning.

    ¡°Your fight is with me,¡± Gryff said loudly. James turned to the Lumen Knight, who watched him with a predatory gaze, like a cat playing with its prey.

    ¡®Just what¡¯s with this guy?¡¯

    Clenching his fists, James stared at the knight with gritted teeth. He made a choice. ¡°Miles! Protect the crew! No matter fucking what!¡±

    He didn¡¯t have to turn around to know the masked man had heard his request. James glanced at Dahlia, who wielded her dagger with proficiency. He reached for his sword but realized then that he had left it beneath the decks.

    ¡°Shit,¡± James muttered with gritted teeth. He had nothing to defend himself against the knight, who seemed to recognize his situation.

    ¡°No weapon? Shame. I bet you would¡¯ve put up an interesting fight,¡± Gryff sighed. He prepared to approach James but was interrupted by Dahlia, who swiped her dagger at the man. James used this opportunity to charge at Gryff, his hands balled up into fists.

    James swung at the spellcaster, trying to land a punch on him. The spellcaster dodged every attack James and Dahlia threw, their strikes proving futile. Gryff didn¡¯t even try to fight back, his arms idle as he dodged and weaved, his cold eyes examining both attackers. James tried to close in for a punch at Gryff¡¯s exposed shoulder before feeling his wound suddenly sting. He faltered his attack from the sudden pain, his fist missing the knight by a mile. Gryff took this chance to land a hit of his own at James, who was too slow to even block.

    The Lumen Knight¡¯s flat palm struck his stomach, knocking the air out of James. He clutched at his abdomen in response, trying his best to breathe as he stumbled back. He only had time to blink before Gryff¡¯s icy fingers were in front of his face. Blue runes materialized in front of them, and James¡¯ body responded by quickly dropping to the deck. He watched as another Ice Lance missed him, his body bursting with a familiar heat as Faust forced him to dodge once more, narrowly dodging the knight¡¯s incoming boot.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    ¡°How fascinating! That¡¯s three times you have dodged my spells.¡± Despite dodging Dahlia¡¯s own advances, the cyromancer seemed joyous. ¡°But,¡± Gryff weaved under the shaman¡¯s dagger, his open palm striking her in the torso, not unlike James. Dahlia flew back in response to the hit, silent for a few seconds before she gasped for breath. James went to her side, helping the shaman up.

    ¡°Much more capable men have done better,¡± the knight proclaimed.

    ¡°Do you have any ideas?¡± James muttered, glancing down at Dahlia for a moment.

    ¡°Not really¡­ Maybe with Miles¡­ Or Helen¡­¡± Dahlia was panting hard, sweat already appearing on her tan skin.

    ¡°Helen is below the deck with Seamus,¡± James whispered. He would be lying if he wasn¡¯t deathly worried about his friend and whoever was still below deck.

    ¡®Have faith that he¡¯ll take care of himself,¡¯ Faust suddenly spoke up. ¡®You must first deal with Gryff before you can focus on anything else.¡¯

    The spirit had a point, even if James was terrified of what the day would hold for him and his friends.

    ¡°Just have faith,¡± James breathed out, the words Dahlia took as advice.

    ¡°Right. Faith,¡± she repeated, finally getting her breathing under control as she stood up straight. ¡°I¡¯m going to need you to close your eyes,¡± Dahlia added quietly, to which the young man nodded.

    James and Dahlia faced Gryff, dagger and fist raised as the Lumen Knight grinned.

    ¡°Well then? Don¡¯t keep me waiting.¡±

    With that, both shaman and otherworldly man charged at the knight, their voices gaining an ethereal boost.

    ¡°Flare!¡±

    ¡°Carapace!¡±

    <hr>

    Kate Rowan pressed herself against the wall of the burnt building, a grim reminder of what would happen if she and her fellow guardsmen failed to protect Yorktown and her people.

    ¡®Do they have Fireball runes? Just like those marauders?¡¯

    She swallowed nervously, slowly peeking out to see if any of those soldiers were around. Kate looked upon the open marketplace of Yorktown, which only a couple of weeks ago would have been busy with merchants and people alike. Now, it was a desolate place, half-burnt buildings signifying the tragedy that had befell the town earlier that month. The guard squinted through the mist that had formed, her field of view hindered by her steel helmet.

    As she examined the area, she noticed figures parading the dead marketplace. It seemed to be two men in those green tunics, their clan insignia sewn onto their shoulders.

    ¡°What do you see?¡± Dirk suddenly spooked Kate, nearly making her drop her sword.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s mercy, Dirk! Don¡¯t sneak up on me like that!¡± She hissed in a whisper. She wanted to punch Dirk for his idiocy but held back her anger. It wouldn¡¯t do her any good to hit the kid for asking a reasonable question.

    Kate took a deep breath, her eyes returning to where she had seen the two men. ¡°I see two men. They don¡¯t have armor like the Lumen soldiers.¡±

    ¡°Can we take them?¡± Dirk whispered, the seventeen-year-old¡¯s voice shaking slightly. Kate could tell he was losing his composure, something that she was dangerously close to as well.

    ¡®Control your breathing. Just like Harald taught you.¡¯

    She took in deep breaths, focusing on keeping her nerves in control.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Harris?¡± Kate asked softly, turning to Dirk.

    ¡°Harris went to where the vase shop used to be. He¡¯ll be back, of course; he just wants to recon the area over there with Parin.¡±

    Kate silently cursed to herself. She and Dirk were currently on their own for the moment, left to deal with two of the attackers.

    ¡®Should we wait?¡¯

    Kate knew that going against the two men would probably end with her and Dirk losing, no matter the training. She had no fighting experience outside of training matches. The closest she had gotten to a conflict was when the marauders nearly killed her, and even then, she was saved by Seamus. She clenched her jaw, her tight grip on the sword¡¯s pommel turning her knuckles white. She felt hopeless again, just like last time.

    ¡®What¡¯s the point of training if I¡¯m going to be as useless as I was back then?¡¯

    ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± Dirk whispered, his hand clinging onto his sword¡¯s scabbard. He followed Kate¡¯s example, taking deep breaths, but failed to pace himself. Kate was about to tell him to calm down before she heard shouting in the marketplace, followed by the sounds of things being knocked over.

    She turned back to the two men from before, who were now struggling with a third party. Kate¡¯s eyes widened as she recognized the person struggling. It was an elderly woman, her shawl thrown back to reveal her graying hair. She had been a common trader in the marketplace, selling her goods to passersby and even trading with Kate and her father. The elderly woman was currently fighting back against the two men who were trying to detain her.

    ¡°Quit your struggling. The faster you get with your people, the easier it is for all of us!¡± One of them shouted, an ax in his hand as he forced the woman up. Everything seemed to stop then and there, with Kate alone with her thoughts.

    What should she do? Should she risk her and Drik¡¯s life over the elderly woman? Should both guardsmen stay back and watch as the men try to force the woman to the town hall? Kate wasn¡¯t even sure if that would happen, as both men seemed to have their weapons out, the cold steel glinting from afar.

    Ultimately, the choice was made without Kate even being aware of it.

    ¡°Hey!¡± she suddenly shouted, surprising even herself.

    Kate blinked, realizing she was out in the open, her sword drawn and both men watching her with puzzled looks. She stared at the men, her throat dry as she tried to speak.

    ¡°Dirk?¡± was all she could manage out.

    ¡°Put the weapon down, trainee. Otherwise, you will do something you¡¯ll regret,¡± one of them called out, his feet slowly stepping up to Kate. He wore a steel helmet and light chainmail over his green tunic, something his friend lacked.

    ¡®Dirk can take on the unarmored one while I deal with the other. We¡¯ll hold them off until Harris and Parin come back.¡¯

    Kate took a deep breath, hands gripping her sword¡¯s wrapped pommel. She wore the chainmail Felix had lent her and had a steel helm to protect her dome. She was protected, that much was sure. Victory was possible. Kate gulped, feeling how the cold steel of her helmet pressed against her sweating forehead. The man in front of her seemed to realize that talking wasn¡¯t an option as he raised his ax, putting himself into a fighting stance. Kate positioned her feet and shoulders, taking the same stance Harald had taught her about offense.

    ¡®Center yourself and do not overextend. Strike with conviction and keep yourself moving. Do not allow your enemy to get the upper hand.¡¯

    With gritted teeth, Kate attacked. Her sword lunged for a stab at the man¡¯s exposed neck. She hoped for a quick winning blow, but her attempt was made short when her target used his ax to redirect the attack. Kate stumbled as a result, leaving herself open to the attacker.

    Before he could strike down on her, however, Dirk suddenly came in. The young guardsman bashed his round shield against the attacker, his shove enough to knock the man off balance. Dirk had his sword out, hand visibly shaking as he fended off Kate¡¯s opponent, pushing him back some distance as the guardswoman regained her footing. As she reviewed the situation again, the other green tunic reached at her, his short sword coming at Kate with frightening speed. With a motion born more out of instinct, Kate deflected the attack with her iron sword, sparks flying as she used its broad edge to redirect. She barely came out of it unscathed.

    All four of the fighters went still for a moment, each of them judging the situation as they regained their bearings. After a few seconds that passed like hours, the two green tunics moved in tandem, switching places quickly. The armored one went after Kate as the sword wielder rushed for Dirk. Kate did not even have the luxury of catching her breath before the man was upon her, ax raised for an attack. She did her best to fight off the armored man, even getting a few nicks at his exposed sleeves. However, her own talents wouldn¡¯t be enough. The guardswoman felt her heart drop as her attacker¡¯s ax got past one of her blocking attempts, the edge of the blade striking her abdomen.

    Thankfully, she wore chainmail, which fortunately protected her from getting gutted. Unfortunately for Kate, the man¡¯s strike was strong enough to send her stumbling back, a sudden pain in her belly making itself known. Still, the guardswoman had some fight left in her as she used her sword to strike against the man¡¯s helm. The strike rang true against the steel, dazing the man as the swing knocked the helmet off his head and onto the ground.

    ¡°Agh! Bitch!¡± The man pushed Kate back, sending the out-of-breath woman to the ground. Kate moved to get back up, her lungs taking deep breaths of the cold air. She tried to use her sword to strike at the man¡¯s exposed leg, but he was quicker. The man¡¯s boot kicked at Kate¡¯s wrist, and her sword flew away. He stomped on her left hand right after, drawing a pained yell from the young woman. She was pinned to the ground now, weaponless and without ideas. She looked up at the panting attacker, who raised his axe above his head, ready to strike down at Kate.

    He would never bring it down on her, as his exposed neck was suddenly pierced by an arrow, shocking Kate and the man¡¯s comrade. Kate was left silent, eyes wide as she stared at the blood that spurted from the punctured jugular. The dying man gurgled and tried to pull it out, only to get hit with another arrow, this one pinning his hand to his throat.

    The dead man soon fell back, his friend watching all of this in horror as he slowly backed away. Two arrows, which came in as quickly as the others, pierced the other green tunic in his shoulder and torso. Another arrow whizzed by, nailing the sword wielder at the side of his neck. Kate watched the second body impact with the ground, blood pooling around both corpses. She turned to the source of the arrows, spotting a familiar silhouette in the mist.

    Felix came into view, short bow in hand, as he reached the two guards.

    ¡°Rowan, Andal, are you two alright?¡± the archer called out their last names, his bow lowering as he looked around. After ensuring the area was clear, he rushed to help both guardsmen up, bow slung over his shoulder. Kate did her best to avoid looking at the bodies lest she emptied the contents of her already hurting stomach.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Dirk¡¯s voice was shaken but audibly full of energy. The mixture of shock and adrenaline was probably overwhelming for the young man.

    ¡°I thought I told you two to scout the area?¡±

    ¡°We saw one of them hurting this old woman. I didn¡¯t even think¡­¡± Kate herself was dealing with the same effects Dirk was experiencing but was doing a better job of hiding it in her voice. This wasn¡¯t the first time she had seen men die.

    Felix looked at the two bodies again, frowning as he surveyed the area. Kate realized he was looking for the old woman they had saved, despite the lady running as soon as the fight had started.

    ¡°Where are Harris and Parin?¡± the guard captain asked.

    ¡°By the destroyed vase shop. They should be back any minute,¡± she answered.

    ¡°Once they return, we¡¯re heading to the town hall to free the people there. Harald and I have already surveyed our side of the town, and Elena¡¯s group has already done recon on the western side of town,¡± Felix explained. Kate recalled their quick planning at the armory and how she had volunteered her group to survey the town¡¯s marketplace instead of the western side, where her destroyed shop lay. She wasn¡¯t ready to see it again, not so soon after the fires. Felix moved to pull his arrows from the bodies, and both Kate and Dirk looked away from the sight.

    ¡°Sir Arlo,¡± Kate started, trying to ignore the sound of flesh ripping. ¡°How are we supposed to take down those men in armor if we can¡¯t even take care of these men?¡±

    ¡°Like I said back in the armory. We take them by surprise.¡±

    The sound of arrows being pulled from flesh stopped, and the archer shortly walked into sight. He pulled out a small stone, its surface like black glass. It had a small red rune inscribed onto it, its magic glowing weakly.

    ¡°Are those¡­?¡± Kate started.

    ¡°Fireball runes,¡± Felix confirmed. ¡°Courtesy of the dead marauders who never got the chance to use them. The magic seems to have diminished, but I don¡¯t doubt they still pack a hit.¡± The guardsman pocketed the rune. ¡°We¡¯ll use these to disperse and have them run into our ambushes. After which, we will make them regret ever coming here. We will not go down without a fight.¡±

 B.2 Chapter 41: Chaotic Visions

    Miles could feel his muscles reach their limit, the ringing pain in his legs growing louder as he dodged a swipe from a soldier¡¯s short sword. He forced his blade into a stab directed at the man¡¯s shoulder, hoping to score the slight opening in his armor. Ting! Miles¡¯ sword bounced off the steel plate, missing its target completely.

    ¡®Dammit!¡¯

    The ex-follower quickly backed away from the Lumen soldier, avoiding a counterstrike from the man. Miles felt his heavy breathing bounce off the inside of his mask, the odor of his breath making it an unpleasant experience. Still, he wouldn¡¯t take it off, even if his life depended on it. It was Myr¡¯s will that he kept it on, for it was a personal item of luck. The mask had been with him through thick and thin, high and low. Miles would have to die for it to be completely separated from him.

    Of course, there was also the fact that the mask was a cursed item, despite many enchanters telling Miles that the mask was made of ordinary wood and painted with regular pigments. It didn¡¯t matter what they said, as Miles had experienced visions from the thing since he had put it on as a child. While they were strange and uninterpretable, Miles had treasured this wooden piece of him for years, hoping to get some meaning out of the mask and its visions.

    ¡®In the chaos of life, one hopes to find meaning in the smallest things.¡¯

    Miles mentally recited one of Myr¡¯s doctrines, his hand positioning the sword in the way the Kasani had taught him. His other hand reached for his spare dagger, readying himself to go at the armored man before him.

    Miles risked a glance at the rest of the ship, noting how Dimitri and his crew fended the other two soldiers with broken bottles and long knives. He then looked toward where that bright flash had stunned everyone, seeing how James and Dahlia tried their best to land a hit on Gryff, who was easily dodging their attempts.

    ¡®He¡¯s toying with them.¡¯

    Miles couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at the sight, shaking his head lightly as he focused on his opponent. The soldier had faltered his stance, his expression under the helmet twisted into confusion.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±

    ¡°Oh, nothing. I just thought of something amusing,¡± Miles chuckled again in amusement, noticing the confused look on his opponent.

    The ex-follower was thinking back to his last vision, which had come to him a little more than a week ago, when he had first arrived at Vindis, before James and his crew hired him. The cryptic vision had shown Miles a depiction of a man in blue, his skull engulfed in blue flames. The burning man had a charred left hand, its blackened fingers holding a red wax seal of a seven-pointed sun.

    <hr>

    Seamus ducked quickly, avoiding the spear that had nearly gorged him. He quickly scrambled away, his eyes passing over Helen, who was currently fighting with another of the armored soldiers for the spear he held. The soldiers who came down to kill them were all spread out, their leader standing back to watch as Seamus and the crew did their best not to die. Lowe was in the farthest corner away from the action, doing his best to blend in with the wall as Lilith moved to defend Seamus.

    The berserker tackled the spearman, who had tried to kill Seamus, her single axe bashing at his steel armor, regardless of their protection. The young man was going to assist but was interrupted by another of the soldiers, who came at him with a raised sword. Seamus quickly dodged, backing up as he looked for anything to fight back with. His eyes then settled on a cot nearby, where James had left his gear. Seamus leaped for the bloody cot, his hands quickly moving to grab at the round shield James had taken from Aldren¡¯s pillaged armory. He turned onto his back as soon as he grabbed the shield, raising it to block the sword strike.

    Seamus felt the impact of the attempted stab, his free hand moving to grab the wrapped short sword nearby.

    ¡°Get back!¡± He shouted, swinging the sheathed sword wildly at his attacker. Despite its covered edge, the armored man stepped back, allowing Seamus to stand back up. He could see how Helen was currently in possession of one of the men¡¯s spears, stolen from earlier. She was using it to fend off two of the armored men. Seamus moved his focus on the other two, one of whom was currently dealing with a rabid Lilith, while the other faced off with the young man.

    ¡®It could be so easy to kill all of them. To save your friends.¡¯

    Seamus heard the small voice in the back of his head echo in his mind. His hands shook uncontrollably as fear gripped his heart. He felt terrified, and his adrenaline did not help to raise his morale. Seamus could feel his knees wobble, his eyelids growing heavier as he slowly reached his breaking point.

    ¡®No!¡¯

    Seamus forced himself to wake, his body tensing up as he steeled himself. Or at least tried to. He was still afraid, still shaking, but his focus was there.

    ¡®I don¡¯t need to be a heartless killer to save myself.¡¯

    The young man unwrapped the cloth around James¡¯ sword, his other hand gripping the round shield he had taken earlier.

    ¡®I can do this.¡¯

    Seamus Halvorson steeled himself for the upcoming fight, his teeth gritting as he looked the soldier in the eye. He took the stance taught to him, the same one Yorn Halvorson took on the night of his last stand.

    <hr>

    Bron could hear the fighting from his cell, which resided below the decks of the royal ship that had taken him prisoner. His face was swollen and red, a result of the beatings that the knight had given him days ago. Ever since they had taken the elf bandit prisoner, he had been subjected to abuse, both mental and physical. He had tried to escape multiple times and fought back against his captors in hopes of freedom. Yet nothing ever worked. It was all worthless, as Gryff had prevented it. The knight controlled what he could or could not do ever since he had been ¡®lucky¡¯ enough to survive the raid on this damnable ship. Still, Bron was determined to be set free, to be rid of the abuse and mental torture they had subjected him to.

    The elf struggled with his lock, his fingers fiddling with the makeshift lock pick he had been secretly making. He had barely enough time in the past days to even forge it since those Lumen soldiers and Gryff himself had kept a close eye on him. Now Bron was all alone, left to free himself from his shackles. He listened as the lock clicked once, then twice, and finally, three times. Freedom. Bron had to stop himself from celebrating, mainly because he was doing his best to keep quiet. That and because talking hurt. The elf stood up, his eyes scanning the magically lit area. The knight had stored essentials down here, things such as potions, food, water, and even some runes.

    The last item on that list was one of the main reasons Bron had broken out. Normally, the imprisoned bandit would be giddy at all the loot available, but the elf wasn¡¯t the same bandit he had been all those days ago. He had been broken, his psyche beyond repair from the abuse Gryff had put him through. Bron knew that even if he attempted an escape, the men Gryff was fighting would lose to the knight. There was no doubt about it. Even if they somehow won, Bron knew that anyone strong enough to kill a Lumen knight was not the friendly type.

    The elf had already known this ever since the fighting had started, which would beg the question of anyone about why he would even attempt an escape. The simple answer was the small velvety bag in which the knight had kept his spare runes. Bron leaned down to search through it, picking up the three stones left in there.

    ¡®Two Fireballs, one Candlelight.¡¯

    The reason the bandit wanted these runes was not to escape spells blazing. The simple reason was that Bron wanted to go out in a way that would fuck over the knight, no matter the consequences.

    Bron held both Fireball runes in his hands. He then took his final breath, accepting his fate. He prayed Caelus would take him in, for he knew that whore Delphine would never forgive him for this.

    ¡°Fireball.¡±

    <hr>

    Dahlia went for another strike at Gryff, determined to at least land a scratch on him. The knight easily dodged her attack, fist moving to punch at Dahlia¡¯s nose. Fortunately, James came in, his hands swinging wildly at the knight. The shaman wanted to call out the young man for being an idiot and fighting with his hands. In reality, however, she was thankful that he had prevented her nose from being caved in.

    As James fended off Gryff, Dahlia looked for anything the young man could use as a weapon. The three were currently on the royal ship¡¯s main deck, as their fighting had carried on over there in the span of a few minutes. Dahlia glanced at where Miles was, the ex-follower clashing with one of the sword-wielding soldiers. She watched as the mercenary disarmed the man, sending his short sword to the main deck.

    Dahlia used this opportunity to call Liam, who was taking a break from his and Dimitri¡¯s fight with the other armored men.

    ¡°Liam! Throw me the sword now!¡± She watched the lanky wheelman react to her words with initial confusion, but his face then focused on the fallen short sword, his hands moving to grab at it quickly. Without hesitation or question, Liam tossed the sword to the royal ship¡¯s deck, the blade clattering onto the wooden planks. Dahlia quickly moved to grab it but was interrupted by Gryff, who kicked at her shoulder, sending waves of pain over the shaman¡¯s arm.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± she cursed, gritting her teeth as she slashed her dagger at Gryff, who countered by grabbing her good arm, pulling her suddenly towards his awaiting elbow. Everything went slow, Dahlia¡¯s eyes widening as she stared at the upcoming strike. She was then pulled away by the hem of her shirt, the attack missing her nose and face. James had thrown her onto the deck, his hand carrying the sword Liam had thrown.

    James yelled out incoherently as he attempted a stab at the spellcaster¡¯s neck, only to be countered by Gryff¡¯s quick hands, which redirected the attack to the side while locking the blond man¡¯s arms in a hold. Dahlia then watched as Gryff aimed his hand at James¡¯ forehead, his chanting accompanied by the cold blue glow on his fingers. Dahlia moved to shout, to stop it, but she would be too late.

    ¡°Ice Lanc¨C¡±

    A loud explosion boomed throughout the ship, interrupting Gryff¡¯s spell. The deck quickly moved in response before it tilted away from Frostbite¡¯s port. The three fell onto the deck as it tilted towards the black waters below. Dahlia moved to hold on to the mainmast, keeping herself from falling.

    ¡°James! Grab something!¡± She shouted, watching as the young man tried to grab onto the planks that made up the deck. He failed to get a grip as he and his sword slid down the deck. Gryff was also falling, failing to hold onto anything as he tumbled towards the awaiting sea. Dahlia had no doubts the freezing waters would likely kill James and maybe Gryff. It was both a twisted thought that horrified her.

    ¡°Cursed fucking¨C!¡± Gryff swore loudly, his hands trying to find anything to grab onto. In the end, the cryomancer gave up, his body shifting so he could face the oncoming sea. As soon as the knight reached where the deck ended and the sea met, both of his hands moved to touch the black waters. Gryff shouted out a spell, five large runes materializing above the water as he formed his hands.

    ¡°Frost¡¯s Blight!¡±

    Dahlia watched in stunned bewilderment as ice quickly formed before the runes, freezing the sea below. The spell¡¯s effects spread itself out into the black sea, forming mounds of snow and meters of ice that reached even Yorktown¡¯s docks. There were even snowflakes floating around, adding to the setting.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s tits,¡± Dahlia muttered the blasphemous words out of surprise, her eyes watching the incredible show of magic. The ice slowly stopped, the edges of its spread resembling that of a flower. James and Gryff both landed on the newly formed ice, with James sprawled out onto the snow as Gryff regained his composure.

    As Dahlia hung onto the ship¡¯s mast, she noticed how open the Lumen Knight was now. His back was turned to her as he focused on James, who breathed heavily as he tried to stand. Without a second of hesitation, Dahlia let go of the mast to slide down the slanted deck.

    The shaman was perfectly positioned above the knight, allowing her to get the optimal jump on him. Dahlia aimed her dagger downwards at the cyromancer, teeth gritted as she aimed carefully. A second later and Dahlia¡¯s ornate dagger pierced through a chink in Gryff¡¯s armor, blood spurting and staining the blue robes he wore underneath.

    ¡°Agh! Fuck!¡± Gryff shouted out, his hands quickly grabbing at Dahlia. The shaman barely had time to react as he threw her over to the ice below, her dagger¡¯s tip tearing out of his wound. Dahlia landed on the ice with a resounding unf, snowflakes falling all around her. She could see how Gryff¡¯s blood stained the snow, making him stand out.

    Dahlia forced herself to stand, yelling as she charged at the spellcaster. She wouldn¡¯t give him the chance to act. Gryff barely had time to block as his hands were busy freezing the stab wound shut. She slashed at him, hoping to get in a lucky hit. Gryff dodged the attempts, his hand over his shoulder as he stared daggers at Dahlia. He moved in a blur, his knee making contact with her stomach. She could feel her organs rearrange themselves, her lungs losing all the air they had held. Dahlia stumbled back breathlessly, her hands instinctively clutching at her stomach as she tried to process what had happened. She could only watch helplessly as Gryff¡¯s fingers pointed straight toward her face.

    ¡°Ice Lance!¡±

    James interrupted the attack with a tackle, sending the sharp piece of ice into the sky. Dahlia blinked, watching as James struggled with Gryff, his sword moving to stab the knight. She tried to move in to help but quickly felt her body react negatively, jolts of pain coming from her shoulder and stomach. Dahlia winced and rested on the front mast that was half stuck in the ice. She watched helplessly as James fought with Gryff, his strikes missing all the cryomancer¡¯s vitals.

    ¡°This is getting annoying!¡± Gryff shouted, his eyes burning with anger as he grabbed at James¡¯ sword arm, swiftly striking his elbow against the young man¡¯s own. Dahlia watched in horror as James recoiled in pain, screaming out in pain as his arm was unceremoniously broken. The sound of bone breaking was enough to shake the shaman to her core.

    ¡°James!¡± Dahlia ignored the pain in her gut, moving in to save the blond man from getting killed. Unfortunately, Gryff wouldn¡¯t allow it. He quickly turned to her, his boot moving to kick her back to the half-buried ship. Dahlia tumbled onto the ice, her hair now loose and obscuring her vision. Still, she can hear Gryff¡¯s voice clear as day.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, the both of you are the first to do some actual damage to me in years,¡± the spellcaster muttered in frustration. Dahlia forced herself to get up, her hand brushing away her hair. She could see how James tried to pick up his sword with his left hand, struggling to use it to slash at Gryff. The spellcaster seemed unfazed as he dodged the pitiful attacks. James tried to kick at the knight, who simply moved out of the way before he kicked at James¡¯ knee. The kick was hard enough to severely injure it, drawing another pained yell from James.

    ¡°Why are you doing this? We did what you wanted. We got the samples,¡± James spoke out, his breathing heavy as he tried to stand back up.

    ¡®Stay down. Please,¡¯ Dahlia begged silently.

    ¡°Did you take me for an idiot?¡± Gryff asked. He watched as James stood back up, sword in his left hand. ¡°Do they even know?¡± The spellcaster added, a small grin appearing on his lips as he chuckled dryly.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Do they know? Your friends in Yorktown? The people on your ship? Do they know that you¡¯re from another world?¡± Gryff asked.

    Dahlia¡¯s eyes widened at those words, her heart skipping a beat.

    Even James looked shocked, his face losing color as he tried to respond, ¡°What are¨C¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t play stupid, James Holter. I saw the ritual site of your summoning. I found the otherworldly clothes you¡¯ve hidden. I have even found a remnant of your past.¡± The spellcaster moved a hand into his armor, pulling a small leather item. He opened it, tossing it to the ice below. Dahlia stared at the open leather packet, her eyes focusing on the small image. It was James, younger and without a beard, but it was him. Dahlia looked up at the otherworldly man, who stared at the item with the same amount of surprise.

    ¡°James Holter and Dahlia Astera,¡± Gryff stated, his voice loud and commanding, like that of a judge. ¡°I have found you guilty of tampering with higher levels of magic beyond your limits and endangering the sacred ley lines of Azura.¡± He pointed a finger at both Dahlia and James. ¡°I hereby declare your execution in the name of Delphine¡¯s authority.¡±

    Wasting no more time, Gryff moved in on James, who tried to fight back with his working arm. Unfortunately, he would stand no chance. Gryff redirected James¡¯ own strike, attempting to stab at the man¡¯s abdomen. James resisted with tense arms, his body shaking as he pushed back against the knight. Dahlia tried to get up, yelling as she fought the overwhelming pain in her body.

    Both men struggled with the sword before it flew out onto the snow-covered ice. Gryff locked James¡¯ good arm before head-butting the young man¡¯s face. Dahlia could hear the impact from her position, seeing how blood speckled from James¡¯ broken nose. Another strike then contacted James, this one sending the young man reeling his head back from the pain. With no warning, his Carapace spell broke, the magical shell around his body suddenly becoming visible as it shattered from the stress of the attacks.

    ¡°I¡¯ll deal with you later,¡± Gryff muttered, his cold blue eyes narrowing as James¡¯ body slumped in his hold.

    Gryff unceremoniously shoved the other man¡¯s body to the icy ground, his gloved hand wiping the blood from his face. Dahlia stared at James¡¯ unmoving figure, seeing the puffs of steam rising from his battered face. He was still alive, barely conscious for sure, but still alive. Adrenaline pumped into the shaman¡¯s veins, her pain soon evaporating as she forced her body to move. She slowly stood up, her shaking hands clenched into fists. Gryff didn¡¯t seem to care as he flexed his fingers.

    ¡°Well, then. Let¡¯s see if you¡¯re any different.¡±

    <hr>

    Helen could feel how her attacks were growing sluggish, the spear in her hands growing heavier with every thrust. She was growing tired, the adrenaline in her veins slowly dying out. The bastard in front of her seemed to get tired as well, but his attacks didn¡¯t seem to falter from it.

    ¡®Damn Lumen bastards.¡¯

    Helen knew better than to underestimate these men since she had fought with them back during the Outsider Wars. She had never expected to fight those same men years later.

    ¡®First time for everything.¡¯

    Helen scowled, dodging a slash from her opponent¡¯s sword. She had injured the other one, who was currently nursing his hand after she had taken his spear.

    Helen had hoped the bastard would stay back for now since she was already struggling to deal with one. She risked a quick glance at Seamus and Lilith, both parties dealing with two other soldiers. Seamus had slipped on his chainmail during the scuffle, courtesy of the terrified gnome who was currently staying away from the fight. It surprised Helen that Seamus was fighting for his life, his shield and sword fending off the armored men. Even if he was shaking and clearly terrified, he was still fighting.

    ¡®After this¡­ I¡¯m going to apologize to that kid for calling him a coward.¡¯

    Helen turned back to her fight, watching as the man in front of her prepared for another attack. Then, there was the sound of a loud booming explosion, which shook Frostbite¡¯s deck enough to make everyone stumble around. Helen struggled to keep her feet planted, feeling how the waves affected the ship¡¯s hull. The ship would soon stop moving as the waves outside turned dead quiet. She could feel the ship suddenly stop rocking, the temperature inside lowering even more. Everyone was quiet, confusion settling in as they all looked at each other. Helen wanted to look out of the windows nearby but noticed how the behemoth in the back suddenly stepped up, his halberd¡¯s end scraping the wooden planks.

    ¡°Enough. Our time has run out. I¡¯m finishing this.¡± The knight, Hugo, waved off the soldiers, his red eyes looking at the trio of fighters.

    ¡®He¡¯s going to kill us all. Dammit.¡¯

    Helen gritted her teeth, knowing full well that they wouldn¡¯t be able to win this fight. The man was a solid wall of steel and would most definitely kill them all. Even if she somehow survived an encounter with him, there were other soldiers to deal with. Helen ran through every possibility in her head, silently cursing as every single one ended in failure. She looked at Seamus. His eyes widened with fear as he backed away slowly.

    ¡®He doesn¡¯t deserve to go out like this. He isn¡¯t a fighter.¡¯

    Helen thought back to her time in the war, how she had seen many young men like Seamus fight and die for no cause. He was still young, full of life.

    ¡®I can still save him. Even if it ends with the rest of us dead.¡¯

    ¡®Look at you. Heart of gold,¡¯ the little voice in her head congratulated.

    ¡®Fuck off, will you?¡¯

    Helen took a deep breath, her eyes focused on the knight in front of her.

    ¡°That young man over there is Seamus Halvorson, son of the infamous Yorn Halvorson,¡± the ex-marauder suddenly called out, her words causing Seamus and that old gnome to curse out loud. ¡°You can check for his birthmark on his head. It¡¯s proof enough.¡±

    The knight stopped his walk, tilting his head in confusion. ¡°Why would I be interested in this?¡±

    ¡°You should be. He has knowledge of the hidden vault Yorn owned. He would be too much of a valuable asset to kill, no?¡± Helen asked.

    ¡°Helen, what the fuck?!¡± Seamus hissed at the ex-marauder, who ignored him.

    ¡°You might have a point, marauder. Why would you tell me this?¡± Hugo muttered.

    ¡°Think of it as a bargaining token. You let me free, and I give you Halvorson.¡± Helen grinned at the behemoth, who chuckled in response.

    ¡°A marauder attempting to save their own skin by selling out a crewmate. I wouldn¡¯t expect less. No deal.¡± Hugo gestured towards his men, who perked up. ¡°Detain Halvorson. I will deal with this scum.¡±

    ¡°What? Fuck you! Lumen scum!¡± Helen pretended to act dumb as she mocked a frown. Of course, not before flashing a look to Seamus, who seemed to realize her ruse.

    ¡°Wait! Helen!¡± Seamus attempted to reach her but was interrupted by a group of armored soldiers. Lilith tried to intervene, but Seamus shouted to the redhead, his hand making strange signs. ¡°Forget me! Help her!¡± By then, the knight had already reached Helen, his red wax seal showcasing the seven-pointed sun of the Lumen Knights.

    Helen quickly moved in on the knight, her spear aimed at his exposed neck. The knight blocked with his arm, the spear¡¯s tip bouncing off the steel gauntlet. He then swung his halberd down on Helen, who swiftly dodged its edge. The halberd struck down on the map table, destroying it in one swing. Helen wasted no time as she moved to his side, aiming her spear at another gap in his armor. The Lumen Knight then somehow moved way too quickly, backhanding the spear out of Helen¡¯s hands. The blunt end of his halberd then came down on Helen, striking the left side of her face.

    Pain flared up by her left eye, tinting its vision red as she stumbled back, spear falling on the floor as a result. She blinked rapidly, unsure of what had happened. Helen then watched in dumb silence as Hugo¡¯s halberd came at her in a flash, a sharp pain burning across her gut. She instinctively grabbed at her stomach, her jaw clenching as warm blood soaked her hands and armor.

    ¡®No, no, no.¡¯

    Helen knew full well how terrifying strikes to the gut were, as she had seen many men and women die brutally to similar wounds. Before she could determine whether her guts were spilling, a steel boot kicked her away, sending her to the ground.

    However, before Hugo could finish her, the berserker from earlier came at the knight, her primal shouts distracting the behemoth. Helen saw how the red-haired woman carried one of the soldier¡¯s short swords, something she definitely stole. Lilith used both her ax and sword to strike at the knight, her blades bouncing off his armor.

    In response, the annoyed Lumen Knight slammed Lilith against the hull of the ship, drawing a shout from Seamus. The young man was currently being restrained by the soldiers, who held him down as he watched. Helen looked on as Lilith tried to fight back before the knight ripped her short sword from her hand. With no hesitation, Hugo stabbed clean through Lilith¡¯s left arm, pinning her to the hull as she cried out in pain. Helen snapped out of her stupor, blinking as her eyes focused on the fallen spear. She hurried on all fours to the weapon, ignoring the pain in her stomach. As soon as her left hand went for the spear, however, a halberd¡¯s edge slammed down on her fingers, splitting bone and flesh.

    The pain was blinding, making the ex-marauder shout out a cry of pain. The halberd¡¯s edge ripped away from her appendage right after, allowing Helen to pull back. She dragged back her hand, hypnotized at the sight of her remaining fingers. Helen blinked, finding the situation all too surreal. She never saw the knight coming.

    With no warning, Hugo grabbed Helen¡¯s blonde hair, holding her in place. He forced the ex-marauder to look at him. Helen could see how the Lumen Knight¡¯s eyes shined a crimson red, an unnatural color that gave her the creeps. She never saw anything like it.

    ¡°Once you marauders are all dead. The world will be a better place,¡± the knight¡¯s deep voice spoke out. He slammed Helen¡¯s skull against the wall, her vision instantly blurring. The ex-marauder barely had time to react before he slammed her head against the ship¡¯s hull once more. Throughout the chaos, her ringing ears picked up the sound of Seamus¡¯ shouts and pleas. As Helen felt the blood run down her forehead, she couldn¡¯t help but laugh at the pain, her grin joyous and genuine.

    She wasn¡¯t sure if she had lost her mind or if she was happy knowing the fact that Seamus would be safe. Imprisoned by the royal bastards for sure, but safe nonetheless.

    ¡®He¡¯ll escape, you bastards. Just like he did with us.¡¯

    Helen laughed in amusement at that thought. Those royal fucks will never see it coming. The ex-marauder¡¯s head was then slammed against the hull for the last time, her eyes rolling back to her head as her final thoughts ran through her mind.

    ¡®I just wish that I would be alive to see it.¡¯

    Helen Dunn¡¯s world went black.

 B.2 Chapter 42: Breaking Limits

    Felix watched as the armored men shoved more of the townsfolk into the town¡¯s center courtyard, their shouts and protests doing nothing to stop the men from doing their apparent objective. He had to hold himself back from loosing a couple of arrows at the bastards, as he knew it would only erupt more chaos. He looked at Harald, who was gesturing towards the other guardsmen to move into their positions.

    They finally set everything up, which left the guard feeling more than a little nervous. Everyone would need to do their part flawlessly to keep casualties to the bare minimum. Even then, Felix knew it would end with some of his own guardsmen dying.

    ¡®This is the risk we take in protecting this town.¡¯

    He turned to Harald, nodding at the veteran to prepare himself. Both Harald and Felix pulled out the Fireball runes from their satchels. The rune¡¯s magic visibly grew weaker, but the archer knew it could still do some damage.

    ¡®I just hope it doesn¡¯t set the whole town aflame.¡¯

    Felix peeked out again, seeing how one townsfolk loudly voiced her concerns. It was Nora, the councilwoman who had blatantly tried to convince Felix earlier that day that his worries were unfounded and paranoid. She was trying to get their attention, shouting at them to listen before one of the armored men shoved her into the courtyard with the rest of the townsfolk.

    ¡®It¡¯s now or never.¡¯

    Felix swallowed his fear and hesitation, aiming his rune straight at the nearby burnt building. It wouldn¡¯t catch on fire; at least, Felix hoped it wouldn¡¯t. It¡¯ll hopefully be enough to distract the men long enough for them to enact their plan.

    Felix took a deep breath, his will focused on the rune before he shouted out.

    ¡°Fireball!¡±

    <hr>

    Dahlia faced off against the Lumen Knight before her, his grin mocking her. She could see how James¡¯ body slumped against the angled deck of the royal ship, his breathing slowing down by the second. She took a deep breath, her eyes focusing on the knight. There was a solid chance she was going to die in a direct fight against the cryomancer. He was strong, experienced, and without remorse. Dahlia would have to use everything in her knowledge to defeat him.

    ¡®You will also have to kill him. Just like with the marauder.¡¯

    Dahlia took another deep breath, closing her eyes as she remembered the burning flesh and screams from that fateful day. Today, she would have to do the same to Gryff, regardless of mental scars.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± Dahlia breathed out, her eyes opening to see the real world.

    Gryff was the first to move, his feet scraping against the ice below. He ran to Dahlia at frightening speed, crossing the entire length of the half-fallen ship in the span of only a couple of seconds. Dahlia put her hands together, quickly forming a rune.

    ¡°Fog Cloud!¡± As soon as Gryff reached her, the spell activated, and a cloud of gray smog appeared between both spellcasters.

    ¡°Dispel!¡± Gryff¡¯s voice sounded out right after, the cloud of fog suddenly dispersing to reveal the cryomancer, one hand forming the Dispel rune. In contrast, the other hand formed a much more familiar one.

    ¡°Ice Lance!¡±

    Thankfully for Dahlia, the Ice Lance missed her by a couple of inches. That was due to Gryff¡¯s multitasking of spells, which fortunately threw his aim off. The shaman quickly evaded the knight, her fingers forming another runic spell.

    ¡°Ignition!¡± She focused on the knight¡¯s chest, watching the runes form on his steel breastplate. Unfortunately, Gryff quickly evaded her focus, the spell immediately failing as soon as he moved out of the way. Dahlia cursed, knowing full well that the spell could only work on stationary targets.

    ¡°Ice Lance!¡±

    ¡°Flare!¡± Dahlia ducked as low as she could, her hand outstretched to form the runic symbol necessary to summon the blinding ball of light. Luckily for her, Flare had a faster casting time than the knight¡¯s Ice Lance, its light blinding him before he could properly aim his spell. Dahlia quickly shut her eyes to avoid getting blinded. She moved back to the ship¡¯s lowered front mast, her hand grabbing onto the gold and white sails.

    ¡°Fog Cloud!¡± The cloud of mist accompanied Flare¡¯s blinding effect, giving her time to think as the knight dealt with both.

    The shaman caught her breath as she dug her soapstone out of her tunic, quickly drawing onto the mast and then onto her own arms. She wasn¡¯t sure if this would work since her reserves were running low. Her head was already experiencing migraines, a drawback from casting so many spells.

    ¡®Just need to get him to make a mistake.¡¯

    Dahlia pressed her hand against the drawn rune, focusing her will as the fog cloud spell suddenly dissipated.

    ¡°Dispel.¡±

    Gryff was standing in front of her now, an annoyed look on his face. ¡°I would expect a little more from you, shaman.¡± He stepped forward, hands behind his back as the shaman stared daggers at him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t talk to me like you know me,¡± Dahlia panted, straightening herself as the cryomancer grew closer.

    Gryff just smiled. ¡°Judging from what I¡¯ve seen in your home and what you¡¯ve written in your old journals. I do know you. I know that the man who raised you was a shaman in Yorktown. I know he practiced rituals in front of you and taught them to you. I know he was the only one there for you after your parents¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Dahlia interrupted, voice quivering as she gritted her teeth.

    ¡°Your father. He was a soldier, correct?¡± Gryff spoke out regardless, chuckling lightly. ¡°I read your old journal. Seen his records in the town hall. He served in the Outsider Wars and was stationed on that island to protect it from barbarians. I¡¯m willing to bet that¡¯s where he met your mother, correct?¡±

    ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡±

    ¡°I knew men like him, good men who fought in the war. Talented, strong, yet they always had a weakness.¡± Gryff turned to James¡¯ body, the young man¡¯s blood staining the ice. ¡°They sacrificed and gave up everything for a special someone.¡±

    Gryff turned back to Dahlia, his cold blue eyes piercing through her amber irises.

    ¡°Your father gave up the Lumen Kingdom and destroyed his honor for his love. You destroyed the ley lines of your home and doomed the world for yours.¡±

    There was an air of silence, the wind blowing as Dahlia stared at Gryff, who grinned at the shaman mockingly.

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± Dahlia spoke, her words coated with venom.

    The knight laughed at the response, his hands moving to the snow below. ¡°Summon Ice,¡± he chanted out, his hand making circular motions onto the snow, which reacted to his fingers. Dahlia watched as Gryff formed a long ice dagger, its clear blade emanating magical particles.

    Gryff sprinted towards Dahlia without a word, his dagger already readying itself for a stab.

    ¡°Flare!¡± Dahlia chanted, forming the rune towards the knight as he neared her. Gryff immediately countered it this time, his dagger suddenly moving to slash at the materializing ball of blinding light.

    ¡°Dispel,¡± he chanted. The enhanced ice dagger sliced through the magical ball of energy. However, Dahlia had counted on it and used the quick distraction to leap away from Gryff. She skidded on the ice, spinning to face the spellcaster who was where she had wanted him.

    ¡°Ignition!¡± Dahlia shouted, hands clasping as she activated the chalk rune on the mast. While Ignition needed time to form onto a stationary target to set it aflame, a chalk rune would combust almost immediately. Gryff seemed to realize this too late.

    ¡°Shi¨C!¡±

    The rune exploded into flames, setting the mast on fire and partially burning the Lumen Knight on his right side. The flames raged like a furnace, the heat making the ice around the source slick with water.

    ¡°Freezing Winds!¡± Gryff¡¯s voice echoed with rage as he cast his spell. Strong winds whipped against the burning mast and nearby snow, resembling almost a small blizzard. The fire on the ship and Gryff¡¯s armor dissipated almost immediately, leaving a charred mast and a pissed-off spellcaster with blackened armor; the runes on the steel burnt out.

    Gryff turned to Dahlia with fury in his eyes, his hair singed, and his face a raw red. His scowl sent waves of fear throughout the shaman, who almost flinched at the sudden gaze. Dahlia steeled herself. She wasn¡¯t out of tricks yet.

    Dahlia raised her dagger and muttered a few choice words to its ornate steel. Soon, the blade glowed a soft, magical white. Gryff stared at her, confusion settling on his face. Dahlia raised her dagger before her, which glowed with the same magical properties as that fateful night. The night she had revived James from certain death.

    It was a simple incantation that made it so the steel wouldn¡¯t warp and bend when it came in contact with overwhelming magic. That¡¯s what made it essential during the ritual that night. Now, however, Dahlia had an entirely different use for it.

    ¡°Ignition!¡± The dagger flared to life, red runes appearing on it before it burst into flames. The heat was blistering, but Dahlia¡¯s hands and arms were marked with fire-resistant runes, the same ones she used for her fireplace.

    She stood up, wielding her fiery dagger against the cyromancer.

    ¡°How¡­interesting,¡± Gryff commented in surprise, his anger from before faltering a bit. Despite his clear admiration of Dahlia¡¯s improvised use of magic, the knight narrowed his eyes at her. He charged. Both spellcasters clashed, with the shaman¡¯s flaming dagger giving the knight much pause as he tried to get in a strike of his own.

    Dahlia slashed at his armor, her cuts leaving burn marks and charred steel. Gryff winced as she got a lucky strike at his side, the burning dagger hitting flesh as it sliced past the disenchanted steel. He backed up and tried to stab at her, but the shaman¡¯s flaming blade blocked his ice dagger. Despite the intense flames of the Ignition spell, the ice dirk resisted the heat, its edge pressing against the burning dagger in Dahlia¡¯s hand. In a desperate move, Dahlia forced both daggers to the side, her left hand moving to form a rune at Gryff¡¯s chest.

    ¡°Ignit¨C¡±

    A kick interrupted her, the boot strike sending her flying to the ice. Dahlia moved quickly to stand, her hands blistering from the heat despite the fire-resistant runes marking them. The shaman prepared her dagger for another attack, but the Ignition spell that had set it aflame suddenly died. She blinked, her eyes widening as she stared at the red-hot dagger, a couple of dying flames visible at its tip. The spell¡¯s duration had ended. Dahlia raised her free hand, fingers forming for another Ignition spell to keep the flames alight.

    Gryff¡¯s advances interrupted her. Dahlia cursed as she tried to block his slashes, her knife moving sluggishly compared to the Lumen Knight¡¯s lightning-fast slashes. Dahlia hoped to contest her heated dagger with his ice dirk to hopefully break it, but she failed to do so.

    Gryff¡¯s ice dagger opened new wounds in her arms and torso, the biting cold of the frost hurting like none other. Hope flared in Dahlia when she finally managed to catch his knife with hers. That hope vanished when Gryff twisted his weapon, slashing her hand and forcing the dagger from her grip. It clattered to the ice in a sizzle, leaving Dahlia disarmed. Gryff grinned as he kicked the dagger away from her, eyes flashing with sick glee. Dahlia felt the punch to her gut a second later, its impact drawing a gasp from her.

    She fell to the ice a moment later, the pain of the strike enough to wind her. Dahlia took in quick, vapid breaths, hands clutching her belly as she tried to find her weapon. She spotted it from afar, the ornate blade skidding to a stop near James¡¯ bleeding body.

    ¡®Need to keep fighting.¡¯

    She crawled to the dirk, ignoring the sharp pains on her arms and gut. The shaman couldn¡¯t give up, not now. Halfway through the crawl, Gryff¡¯s hand pulled at her loose hair, forcing her on her knees. She could see how his ice dagger came into view, its bloodied edge sending shivers down her spine.

    ¡°Pain in my ass, but I¡¯ll give you credit,¡± Gryff said. ¡°You fought a good bout.¡±

    The dagger motioned to her throat but stopped abruptly. Dahlia stared at the knife, wondering why Gryff had stopped. Then, something moved in her peripheral, catching her attention.

    It was James. His body was slowly getting up from the bloodied ground of ice. She stared at the sight, seeing how James wiped at his bloodied nose. The young man¡¯s broken arm and knee then healed. His joints fixed themselves, the sound of bones rearranging themselves audible to Dahlia. She watched in fascination and horror, unsure of what was happening.

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    James reached for his sword before moving to stand up. His back turned to the knight and Dahlia, hand feeling the weight of the short sword.

    ¡°Bit heavier than my old blade,¡± James muttered. His voice sounded¡­ strange. It was his voice, no doubt, but it sounded different in a way Dahlia couldn¡¯t place. James turned around, his eyes glinting with a dangerous glow. He stared at both the shaman and knight, a small, unrecognizable grin on his face as he held his sword strangely. ¡°You must be the Lumen Knight.¡±

    Gryff stared at James, his eyes narrowing. ¡°You are not James, are you? Your movements are distinct. Foreign. Who are you?¡±

    James Holter, or the person who possessed his body, chuckled at Gryff¡¯s words. ¡°Found me out, haven¡¯t you? You are right. I am not James Holter.¡± He pointed his sword in challenge, his excited grin off-putting to Dahlia. ¡°My name is Faust Desimir, Champion of Caelus and slayer of Leonard Kord, the first Lumen Knight!¡±

    With that, Faust kicked the ornate dagger to Dahlia, who snapped out of her stunned state. She grabbed at its heated handle without question. Without hesitation or pause, she cut her hair away from Gryff¡¯s grip, quickly retreating from the stunned knight. The knight stared at both her and the possessed man, his hand still gripping a fistful of Dahlia¡¯s hair.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Faust muttered, his ethereal voice sending a shiver down the shaman¡¯s spine. He stood beside her, sword wavering as he took his foreign stance.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Dahlia said with a nod. She gave him a glance, seeing how the gaze of James¡¯ possessed body glowed a bright blue.

    ¡°Good,¡± Faust said with a grin. His eyes flashed something fierce, and his body tensed. ¡°I¡¯ve been raving for a decent fight for ages. Let¡¯s show this Lumen bastard what we¡¯re made of.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s.¡±

    <hr>

    Seamus blinked, not believing for once that he was seeing reality.

    ¡®This is just a nightmare. A result of that damned Horcus tea.¡¯

    Despite his constant thoughts running wild with excuses, he eventually came to a harsh reality. Helen was dead, her limp body dropping to the ground as her blood stained the wooden hull of Frostbite. His wide eyes stared at the ex-marauder¡¯s body, hoping to see any sign of life from her. Instead, he only saw how her body slumped against the wall, blood dripping down from her forehead.

    Seamus felt his fear quickly evaporate, a feeling of emptiness in his soul as he stared at the woman who had kept him alive during the fight¡ªthe same woman who had saved him once before, back at the purging of his clan, where the Blood Moons shone upon both of them. He had never repaid that favor, never once saving her. Now, he will never repay her.

    A boiling rage suddenly replaced Seamus¡¯ emotions, and as adrenaline coursed through his body, he saw red.

    ¡°You¡¯re all fucking dead!¡± he screamed and forced the soldiers off of him. The men around him stumbled back, clearly surprised at the sudden burst of strength. Seamus ignored them and grabbed at his fallen sword, his eyes focusing on the first man he saw.

    In a flash of speed, Seamus swung down his blade on the surprised soldier. Its sharp edge struck the man¡¯s shoulder, scoring between the pauldron and cutting through gambeson. Blood speckled and stained both men, a howl of shock and pain echoing in the room.

    Still in his rage, Seamus pushed his blade down further, his efforts forcing the injured man onto his knees. Without a second thought, he raised his foot and kicked the bleeding bastard away before moving on to the next soldier.

    However, this man was ready, and his spear was raised to meet Seamus¡¯ advance. Seamus did not care for it. On instinct, the enraged young man sidestepped the attempted spear strike, his sword moving to strike down at the soldier¡¯s hands. The sword struck the shaft in a flash, its edge lopping off fingers. The affected soldier yelled out in agony, hands dropping the weapon as Seamus moved in. The young man used his sword¡¯s pommel to hit the stunned soldier¡¯s throat, silencing him as he dropped to the ground in writhing pain.

    ¡°Who¡¯s next?!¡± Seamus shouted. His heart beat like a drum, adrenaline flowing like hot liquor in his veins. Seamus couldn¡¯t help but pant and heave, his chest tightening with anxiety as he tried to steady his shaking hands. He would never get the chance.

    One soldier rushed in and wrestled with Seamus, trying to disarm him. Seamus tried to fight back, shoving the man off for a moment before he was tackled by two more. The young man yelled incoherently as he tried to stab at them, only for one of them to slam him against the hull, forcing the sword away from his hand. The sudden impact of his skull striking against the hull dazed Seamus. Before he knew it, he felt the attacking soldier¡¯s hands on his throat, thumbs pressing hard against Seamus¡¯ windpipe.

    Seamus felt his fear return as breath escaped him. His eyes widened, and he tried to pry the man¡¯s fingers away from his throat.

    ¡°Shit! No! Stop,¡± he managed out in desperation. He struggled and kicked before feeling the hands slam him back against the hull, the soldier¡¯s hold tightening on Seamus¡¯ neck.

    ¡°You really expect us to give you mercy after what you just did?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ You...¡± Seamus couldn¡¯t get the words out. His vision began to blur as he felt his air run out, his vision darkening as his fists weakly struck the man who was choking him. In the end, Seamus could do nothing.

    ¡°Look at him, still trying to fight back!¡± one man jeered with clear disdain. ¡°Pathetic little bugger, no?¡±

    ¡®You don¡¯t understand...¡¯

    Seamus could no longer speak. He watched as the world around him darkened and grew distant. He could feel how his heartbeats slowed down, his body going limp as his eyes rolled to the back of their sockets.

    ¡®In the end, you return to your instincts.¡¯

    Seamus was no longer in control.

    <hr>

    Hugo watched the young Halvorson lose consciousness, his weak attempts at freeing himself finally stopping.

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough,¡± he called out tiredly, wanting to get this over with.

    ¡°Just a little more. This lordling caused us enough problems,¡± Samuel said as he choked Seamus. The men all jeered and prodded the young soldier on, wanting to see Halvorson suffer a bit more, even if he was passed out. Hugo noted the use of the word lordling, a term used to describe the children of Noble Lords back in Lumen. He shrugged, not really caring about it. Young Halvorson technically was a lordling, the son of a high-standing Jarl. That was if that marauder woman was telling the truth about him. Which Hugo doubted.

    ¡°Do whatever you want with the boy. Just kill off the gnome and that mad woman when you¡¯re finished,¡± Hugo advised with a yawn. He cared little for Yorn¡¯s vault since the Lumen Knights could only go so deep into Valenfrost territory. To even attempt a raid on the late Yorn¡¯s vault would be folly, especially with the Marauders of the North looking for it. Hugo watched as Samuel slammed Seamus against the hull once more, the kid¡¯s face already turning purple.

    ¡°Little bastard! Thinking you¡¯re so tough? Well, let¡¯s see how tough you are when¨C¡±

    Blood sprayed over Samuel¡¯s hands and face, the soldier¡¯s eyes wide with fear as his hands fell to the ground with a wet thud. Samuel pulled his stumps back from the young man, blood staining his armor and clothing.

    ¡°Wha¨C¡±

    A blur of steel slashed at Samuel, his throat now open to the cold air. Drowning in his own blood, the soldier fell to the deck.

    Hugo had barely seen the movements. His usually perceptive eyes were caught off guard when he saw Seamus unsheathe Samuel¡¯s sword and slice the man¡¯s hands off. Speed like that was a rare sight to the veteran knight. He watched with curiosity as Seamus slumped over, his face obscured by the shadows of his hair. Despite being slouched, Hugo could see Seamus¡¯ footwork was as still as a statue, his right hand clenching onto the bloodstained sword with tight knuckles. The other men seemed shaken and caught off guard, their eyes staring at the young man with surprise. Even that red-haired girl was quiet, her primal yells and shouts now absent. The men gazed over at Hugo, who was watching with interest. He gestured for them to go at the young man.

    ¡°Do what you will. He is only one man, after all.¡±

    The first of the men hesitantly charged, his spear aimed at the young man¡¯s throat. Seamus leaned forward, his feet propelling him towards the attacker. He quickly ducked underneath the spear¡¯s thrust, his new sword swinging upwards. With a motion that seemed second nature, Seamus lopped the spear in half with his blade, turning it into a useless pole. Before the soldier could even react, Seamus stepped into his strike and thrust his blade forth. His sword sank into the other man¡¯s throat, drawing an attempted shout that turned into a pained gurgle.

    One of the other soldiers moved in to help, spear abandoned as he drew his own sword. He moved to attack the young Halvorson, who didn¡¯t even seem to care. Without wasting a movement, Seamus twisted the blade in his victim, ripping it out in a shower of crimson. He turned to meet the next man¡¯s attempted strike, sword raising in a quick motion. Seamus¡¯ own sword parried the attack. There was a ring of steel, and Hugo¡¯s man stumbled back in surprise. Seamus did not hesitate. He swung at the soldier¡¯s exposed face, his strike a blur of scarlet and steel. In the end, the other man¡¯s jaw hung at the side of his face, bloodied and mangled, before it fell onto the deck.

    This was all done in under a minute. To the normal eye, it would¡¯ve looked like a blur had gutted a man and dispatched another without fail. Hugo, however, could see how Seamus¡¯ movements were clean and precise. It was as if he had practiced these strikes and counters a million times beforehand. The other two men who were left, the ones Seamus had injured before his sudden change, stared at the young man with visible hesitation and fear.

    ¡°Well?¡± Hugo asked, gesturing towards Halvorson. ¡°If you refuse, I will kill you myself.¡± That seemed to do the trick.

    Both men, Gregory and Nicholas, readied themselves with a spear and sword, clearly against the idea of fighting Halvorson, but not enough to face off against Hugo himself. They both charged at Seamus, simultaneously attacking the young man. Seamus dodged the first attack from Nicholas, who held the sword. He spun to meet Gregory, who tried to thrust with his spear. Seamus reacted by countering the spear with his sword, blocking and redirecting its lunge to the floor. The spearhead struck the wooden boards, stuck in place.

    Seamus focused his attention on Nicholas, whose short sword clashed with his. With an effortless motion, Seamus deflected the strike and created an opening. Hugo expected to see Seamus finish the soldier, but instead, he moved to dodge an attack from Gregory, who lunged with his now unstuck spear.

    Seamus backed away from the two men, gaining some distance. He was still for a moment before he took a deep, sharp breath. With practiced ease, Seamus retook the stance he had earlier. He exhaled and rushed to Nicholas, narrowly dodging the soldier¡¯s wild sword strike. Seamus repeated an action he had done earlier, his sword parrying the blade once more. Sparks flew from the contact, and Seamus moved like a raging wind. He sidestepped and thrust his sword into Nicholas¡¯ right side, between the gaps in the man¡¯s plate armor. His blade went deep, and Seamus twisted the pommel, violently ripping through flesh and gutting Nicholas like a silverhead.

    Nicholas didn¡¯t even have time to go through his death throes before Seamus wrenched the bloodied sword out of the gushing wound. Flowing like a master swordsman, Seamus dodged Gregory¡¯s attempted spear strike, which came at him just a couple seconds later. Two more strikes sounded out, one of wood and one of flesh. Seamus didn¡¯t move after that; his sword hand was still as can be.

    Hugo watched in anticipation as Gregory also froze in place, body tensing. The soldier¡¯s spear dropped onto the floor in two pieces, dark crimson dripping onto the remains. The dead man fell back onto the deck in a heap, blood running down his open throat.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Hugo grinned with excitement as he stepped up to Seamus. ¡°I wonder, will you be the challenge I waited so long for?¡± He chuckled and readied his halberd. The Lumen Knight watched as Seamus leaned forward in his slump from before. A tense few seconds passed before he inevitably charged.

    <hr>

    Miles stared into the eyes of the dying man, his blade forcing itself into the other man¡¯s throat a bit more. The act was enough to kill his victim, the soldier¡¯s body going limp. Miles¡¯ boot pressed against the other man¡¯s chest, kicking the corpse away. The ex-follower slowly caught his breath, his eyes moving to the last of the men, who were currently dealing with Dimitri and Liam.

    Dimitri was armed with his broken bottle, while Liam held the dagger he had stolen from the other dead corpse. The rest of the crew waited by, some of them with visible injuries and stab wounds. Still, Miles could see how little they cared for the wounds, either out of drunkenness or pure adrenaline. Maybe both.

    ¡°Get the fuck back from me, you savages!¡± The armored man shouted, using his spear to fend off the rest of the crew. Miles watched from the back, slowly regaining his composure as he planned on how to deal with the last of the soldiers. Before he could, however, one of the crew members tapped his shoulder. Miles sighed, wondering if the bastard from earlier was still kicking. Instead, he was met with a confused crew member, Norman, from what Miles remembered, his dirty hand gesturing towards the sea.

    ¡°Ship, heading towards us,¡± Norman panted out.

    ¡°What?¡± Miles looked to where he was pointing, and sure enough, there was a longship, its red sails billowing as it neared Frostbite¡¯s starboard at a frightening speed.

    ¡®Is that the Draugr¡¯s Haunt?¡¯

    Before Miles could confirm, a shout suddenly interrupted him, grabbing his attention. He turned to find the surviving soldier rushing at Miles, spear in hand. Miles barely dodged the attack, the spearhead scratching against his white mask and tearing through his hood. The ex-follower evaded the follow-up attack, his sword and dagger returning to offensive positions. The spearman went in another strike at the mercenary, this time aiming for his torso. Miles easily dodged the attack, his blades coming down on the attacker¡¯s exposed hands.

    Both dagger and short sword stabbed through the fingers of the spearman, causing a pained cry of agony. Miles moved in for the kill but was interrupted by a war horn¡¯s echo. He froze in place, his gaze turning to the source. The ship from earlier was now even closer, enough that Miles could see the oars by its side, quickly boosting the vessel. The ex-follower knew it was going to collide with the ice that held Frostbite and the royal ship in a matter of seconds.

    ¡°What the hel is¡ª?¡±

    There was then the sound of ice being rammed through, large cracks forming in it as the longship scraped against the ice and, soon enough, the starboard side of Frostbite¡¯s hull. The deck shook once more, Miles falling to the deck with the spearman and the rest of the crew.

    Miles slowly moved to stand, groaning as he heard the familiar shouts of orcs.

    ¡°No¡­ No, no, no.¡± Miles quickly stood, his eyes settling onto the hooks attached to the railing.

    ¡°Get those hooks off now! Hurry!¡± Miles shouted. The crew followed his instructions, quickly detaching the hooks from Frostbite¡¯s starboard. Miles kicked the spear away from the soldier he injured before, ensuring he wouldn¡¯t try anything while the crew fended off the new threat.

    Despite their combined effort, the crew failed to prevent one of the hooks from attaching long enough for a green hand to grab onto the railing. The orc pulled himself onto the deck of Frostbite, a rusted axe in hand. Miles had tried to prevent the orc from climbing but was too far away to reach in time.

    The ugly bastard was grinning as he stepped onto the deck, his single eye focusing on a crewmate nearby. The half-armored orc moved to swing his axe down at the shoddily dressed man, his eye glinting with malice. Miles stepped in, however, pushing the crewmate away as the axe made its way downwards. The ex-follower narrowly dodged the axe, watching as it struck against the deck. Miles forced his dagger and sword into the orc¡¯s exposed bald head.

    ¡°Precision Strike!¡±

    The sword and dagger glowed a magical blue as they flew towards the brute¡¯s face, burying themselves deep into his eye and throat. The orc was dead in less than a second due to Precision Strike¡¯s added speed and accuracy to vital points.

    Miles could feel his body burning with the exertion of the casting, this one being the third one today. He had used this particular casting one too many times, and it was taking its toll on him. The mercenary tore his weapons out from the orc¡¯s head, his breath now coming out in clouds of steam. More orcs were making their way up onto the deck, most of the crew backing away as their numbers increased.

    ¡®Protect the crew.¡¯

    James¡¯ words echoed in his head. With a heavy breath, Miles rushed at the closest one, his short sword slashing at the orc¡¯s side.

    ¡°I¡¯m over here! Come at me!¡± he shouted across the deck, catching their attention. They all looked toward Miles with interest, one of them pointing at the masked mercenary.

    ¡°I know him! He¡¯s the one who blew up the vault Blood-Irk wanted! He and his friends!¡±

    ¡°Get him!¡±

    The brutes moved in on Miles, cudgels and axes raised. The mercenary took a deep breath of the cold Frost air.

    ¡®Four castings left, five orcs on deck. I¡¯ve worked with less.¡¯

    Miles grinned underneath his mask, taking his stance as he prepared to fight against the brutes in front of him.

    When it came to an interesting life, Myr never disappointed.

 B.2 Chapter 43: Unpredictable

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll take care of the rest.¡±

    Faust¡¯s words echoed throughout the mindscape James was in, his eyes staring at the dark oblivion that was its sky. He had been about to die in the real world, or at least he had thought so. The Carapace spell James had was the reason why he hadn¡¯t gone down sooner, instead opting for the young man to be in constant agony as his old stab wound reopened from the related blows to his abdomen.

    James was so tired, mentally exhausted, and suffering from his wounds. Faust had then switched the young man¡¯s vulnerable mind of the body¡¯s control, taking over for James as his spirit rested in the mindscape. Somehow, someway, the full cooperation of the two spirits had done something remarkable to the young man¡¯s body.

    Just as James had suspected, the spirit did have a sort of healing factor, as Faust taking control had healed his broken arm and injured knee. James also got to view his own perspective from the backseat of things, seeing how Faust had saved Dahlia and proclaimed himself as the killer of Leonard Kord. As of now, James was recovering in the mindscape, his focus on the fight with Faust and Gryff.

    ¡°Just try not to die,¡± he muttered to himself. He clenched his fists as he watched through the eyes of his possessed body.

    <hr>

    Faust Desimir clashed his sword against Gryff¡¯s dagger, sending chips of ice flying as the dagger visibly cracked. Without giving him a chance to react, the Centurion sent a heavy left uppercut. His fist connected with Gryff¡¯s jaw and sent the knight stumbling back in a daze.

    ¡°I thought you were supposed to be tough!¡± Faust shouted. He moved in for another stab, aiming for a weak point in Gryff¡¯s armor. The cryomancer quickly evaded the attack, backing away from Faust in an attempt to get some distance. He wouldn¡¯t be able to catch a break as Dahlia moved in from his right, her ornate dagger slashing at the resting knight. Faust used this chance to go after the spellcaster, using the short sword the same way he would use a gladius all those years ago.

    Gryff was nothing to joke about. His skill was possibly on a par with Leonard Kord, maybe even a little higher. Still, Faust could see how the spellcaster hesitated and played it safe against the Centurion, his dagger strikes not carrying the same weight as it did when he was fighting the shaman.

    ¡®He was confident a minute ago. Before I came in.¡¯

    Faust¡¯s short sword scored another hit against the knight¡¯s breastplate, nicking the steel and causing the spellcaster to back away quickly to avoid any follow-up attacks from the Centurion.

    Both Faust and Dahlia caught their breath as the knight stayed away from the two, his cold blue eyes examining both of them. Faust was still trying to get used to James¡¯ body; the young man¡¯s body was sore as hel and not as strong as Faust back in his prime. It felt like he was wearing weights on his arms and legs, his moves sluggish and weaker than what he was used to. Still, Gryff didn¡¯t seem to take advantage of it, as the knight had opted to dodge and keep a safe distance from Faust.

    ¡®Why is he hesitant when it comes to fighting you?¡¯ James spoke out, his ethereal voice echoing in Faust¡¯s mind. That felt strange for some reason.

    ¡®Not sure. He wasn¡¯t like this when he went against you and Dahlia,¡¯ Faust conceded, his brow furrowed as he considered options.

    ¡°Faust Desimir,¡± Gryff called out all of a sudden, catching the attention of both Faust and Dahlia. ¡°Killer of Leonard Kord. I had a hard time believing your words, given that you¡¯ve been dead for centuries. But your movements, your attacks, even the way you punch. It matches up with the long-dead fighting style Cyrus¡¯ Legionnaires and Centurions had used.¡± Gryff wiped his bloodied lips with an unsettling smile.

    ¡°So you have heard of me?¡± Faust questioned.

    ¡°Of course!¡± Gryff exclaimed. ¡°I¡¯ve read many books about the Legion that had threatened the Lumen Kingdom centuries ago. I know of its origin, of its rise, and its imminent fall.¡± The cryomancer grinned with bloodied teeth, the sight growing even more uncomfortable. ¡°I also know that the death of Faust Desimir was one of the falling pillars that led to its destruction, to its people becoming slaughtered.¡±

    Faust could feel how his fingers clenched onto his sword¡¯s handle, the act enough to give worry to the man in his head.

    ¡®He¡¯s trying to get inside your head. Don¡¯t let him,¡¯ James said internally. He had a point, even if Faust¡¯s emotions screamed at him to gut the knight where he stood. There was one thing he could try, though.

    ¡°Tell me, knight, do you know how Leonard Kord died?¡± Faust asked. Gryff blinked at that. He clearly was not expecting the out-of-place question.

    ¡°Fighting you, of course. The records read he died a heroic death defending Fort Armen,¡± Gryff responded.

    ¡°Heroic?¡± Faust chuckled. ¡°Leonard Kord died a coward, begging for mercy before I drove my gladius into his throat. You will die the same as him.¡±

    Gryff¡¯s features faltered for a moment before he visibly steeled himself.

    ¡°Well. Let¡¯s see if your words carry any truth to them.¡±

    He charged at Faust, ignoring Dahlia completely as he positioned his dagger into a stabbing motion. Faust countered the attack, using his blade to deflect the oncoming dagger. He could see how Dahlia moved in to help but was interrupted when Gryff slammed a hand onto the ice.

    ¡°Ice Wall!¡± The ground shook for a moment before a small wall of ice the length and width of a door rose from the ground, blocking off the shaman temporarily.

    Faust used this opening to move in on the knight. Gryff seemed to notice this, and he positioned himself to counter the Centurion¡¯s attack. Unfortunately for him, Faust wasn¡¯t going for a swing like Gryff had predicted. The Centurion¡¯s boot struck against the knight¡¯s chest, the cryomancer¡¯s eyes widening in surprise as Faust sent him back onto the ice. Gryff tried to recover quickly, his body scrambling to get up. The Centurion wasted no time. His sword came down on the kneeling knight, who quickly countered with his ice dagger, blocking the attack.

    ¡°Ice Lance!¡±

    Faust quickly backed away from the knight and narrowly avoided getting impaled by the shard of ice. Gryff came at the Centurion once more, this time without his clear hesitation from earlier. Faust did his best to block the attacks, his eyes looking for an opening.

    ¡®Got you!¡¯

    Faust thrust his sword at Gryff¡¯s exposed side, hoping to score a hit. Gryff seemed to have expected it and evaded the strike with a sidestep before going at Faust with a downward stab. Faust quickly tried to block, but even he knew he was too slow.

    Dahlia shoved into the knight, disrupting his attack as she struck her dagger against his armored chest, missing the small gap in his plate armor. Faust charged at the knight with Dahlia, his sword coming down as Dahlia went for a stab at Gryff¡¯s leg. The Lumen Knight dodged the attacks, countering the shaman with a kick to her chest before he rushed to the Centurion with a lunge. Faust instinctively raised his weapon, blocking the dagger¡¯s advance to his throat. The attack never came. Gryff had feinted, his free hand forming a fist and punching Faust in the gut. The strike landed, and the Centurion stumbled, his eyes going wide with surprise and sudden pain.

    ¡®It¡¯s like he knew what I was going to do!¡¯

    Faust went for a wild swing, nearly catching Gryff off guard. The knight evaded with another swift motion, his dagger moving in for a strike. A real strike, Faust knew it this time. However, before he could block the attack, he was suddenly ripped out of control, his spirit going back into the mindscape.

    <hr>

    James was back in his body, his lungs instantly gasping for air. Without hesitation or a single word, he tackled Gryff, whose dagger strike was nothing more than a feint intended to counter Faust. Thankfully for James, his tackle had caught Gryff off guard. Both men fell, Gryff shouting in surprise as he was slammed onto the ice.

    James shifted and grabbed at his sword, attempting to stab at Gryff. He missed, the blade scraping against the ice below. Gryff growled and kicked James off, who recovered and scrambled to grab the cryomancer¡¯s fallen dagger. Hands wrapping around its hilt, James didn¡¯t hesitate to stab at Gryff¡¯s back, who was still trying to stand up. The icy blade of the magical dagger pierced through the small opening by Gryff¡¯s shoulder, drawing a pained shout from the spellcaster.

    James pulled the dagger back and tried for another stab. Gryff reacted by swatting the stab and striking with an armored fist. The punch landed square on James¡¯ chest, the force sending the young man flying back onto the snow. While the punch was not empowered by magic, James still had to put effort into regaining his breath. As the icy air rushed into his lungs, Faust¡¯s voice spoke out in his mind,

    ¡®James?! What the hell was that?!¡¯

    James groaned as he spat onto the ground, his hands and legs shaking as he climbed back on his feet.

    ¡®I figured it out,¡¯ James mentally spoke to Faust. ¡®He memorizes attacks and fighting styles. It¡¯s how he knew exactly what you were going to do. What I was going to do.¡¯

    He coughed as he stood back up, watching as Gryff froze his recent wound shut. Dahlia was nearby, catching her breath as she gripped her dagger.

    ¡°Dahlia! He¡¯s memorizing our attacks and movements!¡± James shouted.

    The shaman blinked, visible confusion on her face as she looked over at both the healing knight and James. ¡°He¡¯s doing what? How?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet, but I need you to be as unpredictable as possible. It¡¯ll confuse him enough to make mistakes, just like he did with Faust when they first fought,¡± James explained.

    James could feel how sore his body was, and he felt a couple of new slashes on his blue tunic.

    ¡®Faust, I¡¯m going to need you to switch with me randomly through this. Keep him confused enough.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s insane. This can easily go wrong.¡¯ Faust sounded hesitant, but James knew that this really was the only way they would have a chance at defeating Gryff.

    ¡®Just do it! And don¡¯t tell me when you¡¯re about to switch!¡¯

    With that said, James charged at Gryff, fists raised as if he would fight the knight. Instead of doing so, however, the blond man slid onto the ice, grabbing at his fallen sword. Using the momentum of his slide, James swung with all of his might at the Lumen Knight before him.

    <hr>

    Kate Rowan kept herself flat against the stone wall, her eyes observing the alleyway.

    Harris was on the other wall across from her, the guard preparing his short bow. ¡°Where are they?¡± He murmured as he peeked out. Parin and Dirk were right next to Kate, both men carrying swords.

    ¡°Perhaps they all tripped the snares?¡± Dirk suggested.

    ¡°I doubt it. We only rigged up a few of them,¡± Parin answered.

    ¡°There¡¯s a chance that the other squads have caught up with them,¡± Kate said. ¡°Still, it¡¯s unlikely that all of them have avoided this path.¡±

    All the men murmured with each other before Kate raised a hand, quieting them down. Harald had appointed her as their squad leader despite her protests. The veteran trusted her for some reason, a choice that had both surprised and angered Harris.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Dirk asked, the young man peeking out a little.

    ¡°I think I hear voices. Stay put.¡± Kate focused on the alleyway ahead, her ears picking up the sounds of scuffling feet. Soon enough, a group of men burst in, a mix between royal soldiers and green tunics. Two of them were in armored plate, three in chainmail, and one with no armor. They all caught their breath, clearly confused and dumbfounded.

    ¡°The hel was that?! You said that this was going to be quick and clean?!¡± one man in green questioned a Lumen soldier.

    ¡°It was! I had no fucking clue these savages had Fireball runes!¡±

    ¡°Well, they do!¡±

    As they all argued, Kate turned to Harris, her fingers gesturing towards the most exposed of the men. Harris nodded, the guard stepping up with his short bow. He nocked an arrow on his bowstring, taking a deep breath as he took aim. Harris loosed the arrow, the projectile whizzing through the air. The arrow struck the man¡¯s shoulder, a pained shout signifying to the small squad to charge at their enemies.

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    ¡°Now!¡± Kate led the charge, swallowing any fear she had as the squad took her lead. They rushed at the confused men, their weapons drawn and pointed towards them. The guardswoman was soon upon the first of the enemies, a terrified man in shoddy chainmail and steel helm. She swung her sword at his exposed neck and collar, putting all of her strength into the attack.

    Sharp steel made contact with soft flesh, blood suddenly faceting from the torn wound. Kate felt how the man struggled under her sword, the sudden movements speckling more blood onto her. She forced herself to stop watching, her eyes casting away as her weakening arm pulled the sword out of the man¡¯s neck. She didn¡¯t have to look at him to know that the man was as good as dead.

    Kate looked upon the rest of her squad, all of whom were fighting with the rest of the men. One man in the green tunics was already dead, three arrows sticking out of him. Dirk was struggling with one in chainmail while Harris dealt with another.

    Parin was being an idiot, his sword striking against one of the armored ones. Kate moved to help, her sword swinging down on the second armored man. Her weapon bounced off of his armor, the vibrations shaking the young woman slightly as she staggered back.

    The armored soldier turned to Kate, his own sword moving in to stab at her. Her training kicked in, her sword quickly moving to parry the attack. The man¡¯s strike went wild, stabbing at nothing while Kate advanced with a thrust at his torso. Her sword¡¯s tip scraped against steel, hitting nothing vital. The armored man grunted and lunged with his own sword.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Kate exclaimed. In an act of desperation and adrenaline, she used her free hand to grab at the incoming sword¡¯s edge. She winced as the cold steel bit into her palm and fingers, blood staining the sword as its trajectory was redirected away from Kate. It hit nothing but the cold air. Kate raised her sword right after, using her free hand to keep the armored man¡¯s weapon down and leave him open. She thrust her sword again, her eyes widening as luck took her side once more. Her blade¡¯s tip met resistance as it struck the small gap in the armor¡¯s front. Without thinking, Kate forced her weapon through. The sword sank through, drawing an exasperated gasp from the young soldier.

    Kate could see how he dropped his weapon in shock, his body stiffening as he looked at her. His blue orbs seemed to ask ¡®why¡¯ to the young woman, and his lips quivered as if he wanted to say something.

    Kate stared back, arms shaking as she forced the blade deeper, drawing another pained gasp from her victim. She looked away, both hands now on the pommel, as she twisted and ripped the weapon out of the man¡¯s torso.

    As the body fell, Kate moved her focus to the fighting around her. She immediately noticed the other armored man fighting with Parin. The guardsman was reckless in his attacks, panic clear in his desperate swings. Kate¡¯s eyes widened as she watched Parin make a severe misstep in his fight, something he had done on the training grounds many times before. Unfortunately, this was no training exercise. Parin seemed to realize his mistake, the ginger man quickly moving to fix it.

    However, he would be too late, as the armored soldier took advantage of Parin¡¯s fatal misstep.

    ¡°No!¡±

    Kate watched in horror as the other man¡¯s sword disappeared up the ginger guard¡¯s jaw, its bloodied tip emerging from his scalp. She watched as Harris finally hacked down his target before noticing what had happened to his friend.

    ¡°Parin?! No!¡± Harris kicked the body of his opponent away before rushing at the guardsman¡¯s killer. Kate wanted to help but was distracted by Dirk, who was still struggling with his opponent. Time seemed to stop for the young woman, her eyes switching between who to help and save.

    ¡®I¡­ I¡¯m so sorry.¡¯

    With only seconds to decide, she made her choice.

    <hr>

    Miles was at his limit, his strikes growing more sluggish by the second. He only killed two of the orcs, and the rest of the bastards gave him and the crew a hard time. Most of the crewmates were doing as the mercenary had asked of them: staying back and keeping themselves alive.

    They had even armed themselves with the fallen weapons from the skirmish, with Dimitri and Liam wielding a spear and ax, the rest of the crew varying between a sword, daggers, and some improvised weapons, such as broken bottles and spare planks. Still, they all kept their distance from Miles and the orcs, the mercenary opting to do without the help despite the shipmaster coming in to assist from time to time, just like now.

    Miles watched as one of the attacking orcs was interrupted by a spear¡¯s thrust, its sharp tip grazing against the gr¡¯s cheek. The brute stumbled back, avoiding another spear strike from Dimitri, who wielded the weapon with some issues. It was obvious that the shipmaster had little to no experience with a spear, yet it didn¡¯t stop him from trying to gorge the orc that was fighting Miles.

    ¡°What the hel are you doing?!¡± Miles asked, stepping in to shove Dimitri out of the way of the brute¡¯s ax swing, the rusted weapon hitting the deck. The ex-follower shoved the end of his blade into the orc¡¯s exposed collar, forcing the brute onto a knee.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to help!¡± Dimitri shouted, his spear coming out of Miles¡¯ field of view. The spearhead pierced the brute¡¯s throat, sending specks of blood everywhere. Miles pulled away from the dying orc, grabbing Dimitri and pushing him away from a goblin¡¯s attempted strike.

    ¡°If you want to help, then stay back!¡± Miles shouted, kicking at the small creature. With that orc dead, it left two of the bastards onboard, the rest of them on the longship below. They were currently being fended off by the crew, who were still kicking off the boarding hooks. Thankfully, the orcs and goblins on board were too stupid to see it, leaving Miles with fewer enemies to worry about.

    ¡°Miles,¡± Liam panted out, the man¡¯s orange hair damp with sweat. ¡°There¡¯s a ship coming from the northwest. It looks like another of the orc ships.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Miles turned to the wheelman, who didn¡¯t look like he was joking.

    ¡°More orcs? You have to be fucking kidding!¡± Dimitri cursed.

    ¡°No joke about it. It looks exactly like the longship these bastards came in. Miles, what do you suppose we do?¡±

    The ex-follower turned back to the three remaining hostiles on deck, a small group that was pushing Miles to his limits. He could barely handle this small group, let alone the rest of the bastards who were still aboard their longship.

    ¡®What can we do¡­?¡¯

    Miles looked towards the crew, who were all doing their damndest to help the mercenary out.

    ¡°I recall something in Myr¡¯s doctrines. Something that has stuck with me for a while,¡± he muttered softly, earning a couple of confused looks. ¡°The way to an interesting life is to prepare for an interesting death, where your last actions define the life you had led.¡± Miles readied his dagger and sword. ¡°I¡¯d rather die fighting than running,¡± he added, earning a response from Dimitri and Liam.

    ¡°Hmph¡­ Agreed.¡±

    ¡°Aye.¡±

    <hr>

    Hugo raised his halberd once more, blocking Seamus¡¯ attempt at his neck. The young man¡¯s sword struck hard against the staff of Hugo¡¯s weapon, the blade recoiling back before it swung to Hugo¡¯s left. The knight raised an armored gauntlet, blocking the sword strike with his forearm. He pushed back the strike before suddenly moving in for a quick lunge with his halberd¡¯s end.

    Seamus spun around the thrust, his sword scraping against the length of the weapon as he attempted another swing at Hugo¡¯s head. The knight stopped the rushing attack, his other gauntlet grabbing the blade before it had a chance to pierce him. Seamus tried to push the sharp end through his fingers, which would¡¯ve taken one of Hugo¡¯s eyes out.

    Instead of losing an appendage, of course, Hugo simply saw it coming. He quickly moved his head out of the way, the sword strike scraping against the side of his helmet. Hugo grinned underneath his visor, watching how Seamus quickly retreated from his failed attack, eyes still obscured by that messy hair of his.

    Hugo was enjoying this, especially with the way Seamus had fought. No unnecessary speech or proclamations to the knight, no. Seamus was aiming to kill him. Every attack from the young man was directed to kill the knight, with no hesitation behind their convictions. Not to mention his speed, which was enough to give Hugo¡¯s eyes a run for their gold.

    ¡®What a fun fight. Maybe with some decent weaponry and armor, this man would be a serious threat.¡¯

    Hugo chuckled to himself as he examined Seamus, who was now catching his breath. The young man¡¯s breathing slowly returned to normal before he rushed Hugo again. However, the knight already knew what to expect as his gauntlet and halberd deflected and blocked the swings from the young Halvorson. Seamus seemed to try to get a hit into the small openings in Hugo¡¯s armor. Still, he wouldn¡¯t get the chance to accurately strike them, as the knight was making sure not to make things too easy for the young man.

    ¡°Come on, Halvorson, do your worst,¡± Hugo taunted as his halberd¡¯s blunt end struck against the kid¡¯s chest, sending him stumbling back. The knight raised an eyebrow, noting this as the first time Seamus¡¯ footwork had faltered. He prioritized this opportunity, moving to swing his halberd down on the young man. Seamus barely dodged the halberd¡¯s edge, which cut through the tension-thick air. Halvorson repositioned himself, his sword suddenly swinging at Hugo in full force and speed, enough to surprise the knight.

    Despite his perceptive eyes and usual fast reflexes, Hugo was too slow to block Seamus¡¯ attack, the strike ringing out against his helmet. Hugo stumbled back, his mind registering the hit before another strike came at him, this one actually hurting the giant. He could feel the biting cold of sharp steel at his side, something that made him instantly swat at the attacker. Hugo¡¯s backhand struck Halvorson, sending the young man back against the ship¡¯s hull.

    Hugo slowly regained his bearings, unsure if he truly felt the pain. He looked down at his armored gauntlet, squinting through his damaged visor. He could see the familiar crimson staining him, the sharp pain in his side signifying to the knight that Seamus¡¯ strikes had finally reached and injured him.

    ¡°Amazing. It has been years since I¡¯ve seen my own blood.¡± Hugo turned to Seamus, who was slowly trying to stand up. ¡°You truly are Yorn¡¯s son, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    The young man suddenly tensed up at the name of his father, a small scowl forming on his face.

    ¡®Ah, touched a nerve, did I?¡¯

    Hugo could barely see out of his damaged visor, but he didn¡¯t mind it. It would add the challenge that was Seamus Halvorson, the famed son of the supposed Conqueror of the North.

    <hr>

    ¡°Fog Cloud!¡±

    Dahlia¡¯s spell appeared out of nowhere, blinding nearly everyone. Still, she knew James, or Faust, could still see since the Fog Cloud from earlier didn¡¯t seem to hinder them at all. However, it hindered the two spellcasters.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± Gryff¡¯s voice sounded out, his anger clear in his words. Dahlia rushed towards the source of the voice, her dagger preparing to swipe at wherever she assumed Gryff to be. However, before she could enact her half-baked plan, the Fog Cloud dissipated, its dismissal followed by his rage-filled voice.

    ¡°Dispel!¡±

    ¡°Flare!¡±

    ¡°Dispel!¡±

    Dahlia¡¯s next act was struck down nearly immediately after, her Flare spell fizzling out as soon as it reached the knight.

    Gryff moved to use his dagger against the rushing shaman before James came in with a kick, followed by a loud shout that confirmed it was actually Faust in control.

    ¡°Our fight isn¡¯t over!¡± Faust¡¯s kick sent the knight stumbling back, making him lose his focus. Faust went for a downward stab, making Gryff move to block it. The possessed body of James suddenly went limp, his feet stumbling a bit as he leaned forward. His body snapped awake soon after, arms shifting as he moved in for a sideways strike. The seemingly random set of movements momentarily confused Gryff, which allowed for the wild swing to strike true. James¡¯ sword contacted with the steel armor, sending the knight back with a noticeable dent in his armor. This had all transpired in less than a couple of seconds, surprising both Dahlia and the cryomancer.

    Dahlia used this moment of confusion to move in-not really thinking of a plan-as she thrust her dagger into Gryff¡¯s torso. Gryff stopped her with amazing reflexes, his free hand gripping her wrist with surprising force. Dahlia looked up to see glowing fingers, the all too familiar rune forming in front of her.

    ¡°Ice Lan¨C¡±

    James¡¯ fist collided with his cheek, sending him stumbling back as the young man went in for a sword strike. Gryff quickly recovered, his arms moving to block the stab. James went limp as a response, his body suddenly falling towards the ice. Before Gryff could react to the switch, Dahlia rushed him with her dagger. She slashed at the gaps between his plates, hoping to do some damage.

    Gryff retaliated with a swat of his hand, brushing the dagger aside before his palm struck against the shaman¡¯s chest. The sudden move made her lose her balance and stumble back onto the ice. She watched as Gryff quickly turned to where James was, only to be met with a sword stab aimed at his head. Gryff stopped the strike by quickly grabbing onto the sluggish man¡¯s right arm. He tried to form another rune but was interrupted when the blond man threw an uppercut to his jaw. There was the audible sound of teeth clacking together, followed by Faust¡¯s excited shout,

    ¡°Incredibilis!¡±

    The cryomancer stumbled onto the ground from the strike, head shaking as he recovered. Faust rushed, which was what Gryff anticipated. The cyromancer¡¯s dagger came out in a slash aimed at the possessed James. Faust quickly pulled back, sword going wide as the ice dagger missed the belly by a couple of centimeters, saving James from being gutted.

    Still, using his free hand and the momentum left over from his desperate swipe, Gryff swung a fist at the possessed man. Just as Faust moved in to throw a punch at Gryff¡¯s exposed face. Both men struck each other at the same time, sending each other recoiling back from the blows.

    Dahlia used this chance to charge at Gryff with her dagger, hoping to all the gods above that she would succeed. She collided with the cryomancer, who had tried too late to defend himself. There was the sound of clashing and flesh being pierced before both spellcasters landed on the ice, with Dahlia rolling away from the knight. She was about to use her dagger for a second attack but realized that it was gone from her grip.

    Dahlia looked towards Gryff, who slowly stood from the ice. He winced audibly as he looked down at his torso, where blood stained his abdomen. His hands trembled as he grabbed at the stuck dagger in his side, its ornate engravings stained with dark crimson. The sight hypnotized Dahlia, who watched as Gryff pulled half of the dagger¡¯s length out of his body.

    Drops of blood stained the icy ground, dyeing the snow below. Gryff took a few good breaths, his hand dropping the shaman¡¯s dagger as he pressed a hand against his wound. After saying a few words, his hand glowed blue, and the wound slowly froze itself together. Dahlia watched all of this in silence, her eyes moving to James. The otherworldly man was rolling on the ice, his hands clutching at his bleeding nose. Gryff had probably broken it.

    ¡°I am done playing games,¡± Gryff panted. He spat out onto the bloodstained ice. ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you both.¡±

    Dahlia wanted to fight, to grab her dagger and fend off the knight, but she was spent. Her body ached with every movement, her muscles begging for her to take a break.

    ¡®I¡¯m at my limit.¡¯

    She looked towards James, who seemed to be in the same state. They were both finished, their bodies no longer ready to fight.

    ¡®No! I can¡¯t just give up! I can¡¯t just sit here and die!¡¯

    Dahlia gritted her teeth, trying to force herself to keep moving towards her fallen dagger. They had gotten so far; they had done so much. She wouldn¡¯t have it end here, not now.

    Gryff stepped in her way, his boot kicking away her bloodied weapon. ¡°It ends here, now,¡± He stated, his fingers pointed at the shaman.

    Grim realization reached Dahlia, her teeth grating against each other as she clenched her fists.

    ¡°I just didn¡¯t want him to die. I couldn¡¯t have lived with myself if he did,¡± she suddenly said, letting the knight know she had a reason for what she had done back in her hut.

    ¡°I know,¡± Gryff muttered back, his fingers glowing a soft blue. Dahlia shut her eyes, ready for her inevitable end.

    The Ice Lance never came. Instead, there was the loud sound of something crashing into the ice, followed by the shouts of men. Dahlia opened her eyes and saw how Gryff turned to see what the noise was. The shaman turned, her eyes widening as she saw a longship in the ice, orcs, and people jumping onto the snowy ground.

    ¡°It can¡¯t be¡­¡± She could see how the orcs raised their weapons, their voices shouting out into the cold air.

    ¡°For the Draugr! Attack!¡±

    Their voices were followed by the shouts of a certain elf, dwarf, and panicked human, all of whom were charging at Gryff.

    ¡°Protect James and Dahlia!¡±

    ¡°Get that Lumen bastard!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re all going to fucking die!¡±

 B.2 Chapter 44: Draugrs Haunt (Part One)

    HOURS EARLIER

    ¡°They¡¯re going to do what?!¡± Haggard heard Bjorn shout, the dwarf¡¯s angry shouts booming over the deck of the Draugr¡¯s Haunt.

    ¡°They¡¯re going to kill James and that shaman! Probably do the same, or worse, for your other friends,¡± Brant explained.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t told us this, why?¡± Haggard stepped up to the injured man, his voice calm and still.

    ¡°They ordered me not to. Jarl Ivan and Gryff wanted us to keep watch on James and report back to him,¡± Brant said, shifting in his seat. His friend Finn looked anxious.

    ¡°Brant! Quiet! If they know you talked¡­¡±

    ¡°Then so be it! I¡¯m abandoning the clan. I¡¯m done with being Ivan¡¯s pawn in all this.¡± Brant shouted back. ¡°James does not deserve to be killed like this!¡±

    Haggard rubbed his chin, looking over at everyone else. ¡°Archibald, how long will it take us to get to Yorktown?¡±

    ¡°Not long enough to get there before Frostbite, I¡¯m afraid,¡± the elf responded.

    ¡°Then set a course now. We will need to get there as soon as possible.¡± Silas ordered.

    ¡°Wait! You can¡¯t seriously be thinking about fighting the Lumen Knights?¡± Finn protested.

    ¡°What do you expect us to do?¡± Haggard asked, raising an eyebrow as he turned to Finn.

    ¡°It¡¯s just that¡­ Why would you risk your own lives for this James Holter?¡±

    The question hung in the air like a fog, with everyone on deck giving each other looks. Haggard frowned a bit before moving to answer. He wouldn¡¯t get the chance, as one of the freed prisoners on board spoke out.

    ¡°He freed us, saved our lives while risking his,¡± a scarred man stood up, his words gaining agreeable murmurs from the other prisoners.

    ¡°He saved my life,¡± Bjorn added before Edmund spoke up,

    ¡°He risked himself for most of us¡­ Even when he was met with the possibility of dying.¡±

    ¡°Human freed us too, trusted us orcs enough to leave us with a longship,¡± a greenskin called out.

    ¡°He listened to reason when no one else was willing to,¡± Silas commented. Everyone murmured their responses, with some orcs proclaiming James as a Draugr chosen by Dremor, God of the Dead. Still, it had all boiled down to one consensus.

    ¡°He¡¯s a good man. Someone who would be willing to save us if he was put into our position,¡± Haggard stated.

    Finn swallowed, his nervous eyes looking at the rest of the crew.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to Yorktown. Whether or not you like it,¡± Haggard muttered. He turned to the intelligent orc, who was watching the whole ordeal with crossed arms. ¡°Silas, Archibald, set a course towards Yorktown. Time isn¡¯t on our side for this.¡±

    Silas nodded before facing the rest of his orcs. ¡°Get this ship turned around right now! The elf will tell you all what direction to sail in.¡± The crew reacted to his words, quickly moving to set the longship on its new course. As the orcs and humans worked together to accomplish this, Bjorn hobbled up to Haggard, his hand carrying that golden flask.

    ¡°Are you well enough to fight, dwarf?¡± Haggard asked.

    ¡°Please, I¡¯ve fought in worse conditions.¡± Bjorn grinned. ¡°The only thing I¡¯m worried about is our opponent. What kind of Lumen Knight are we dealing with here?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re dealing with two, and from what I¡¯ve seen of them¡­¡± Haggard thought back to his first impression of the two knights, back when they had first arrived. ¡°One is a spellcaster who uses either ice magic or pyromancy judging from his hands. The second is a brute, taller than me. Still, despite his armor and weapon choice, I doubt he¡¯s the one we should be worried about.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Bjorn took a swig from his flask, some of the healing liquor dribbling down its opened hatch.

    ¡°I can deal with brutes. Brutes are predictable and show their hand outright. Spellcasters are something else. They usually like to keep their spells hidden until needed. That Gryff fellow back at Yorktown seemed to be sharp. Bit of a cocky bastard, but sharp.¡± Haggard frowned, thinking back to how the spellcaster¡¯s eyes had pierced through his soul. ¡°I just hope James and the others will stay alive long enough for us to arrive.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about them. Judging from the way he and that shaman had carried themselves on the islands, those two will be unstoppable working together.¡±

    Haggard thought back to the marauders¡¯ invasion and how James and Dahlia had managed to defeat a group of marauders and that abomination all on their own.

    ¡®Let¡¯s just hope they hold out long enough for backup.¡¯

    <hr>

    Mida was scared shitless, his back pressing against the stone wall of the nearby building. Everything was supposed to go well until those guardsmen had ambushed them. Despite killing off a good number of the young guards, the ambush had taken a toll on the soldiers. Harin was dead, Doren was most definitely captured, and most of the others were gone from sight, either picked off or taken. All this left the soldier alone, his spell crystal blinking as it tried to get his attention. Mida grabbed it, activating it as he looked around.

    ¡°Hello?¡± He answered quietly.

    ¡°Mida? We got arrows coming down on us over by the tavern! What¡¯s your position?¡±

    Mida gulped as he answered back, his hand slowly putting pressure on the crystal. ¡°I¡¯m hiding in the burnt area of the town.¡±

    ¡°The hel are you doing there?!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m staying alive; that¡¯s what I¡¯m doing! My troop is gone, either dead or captured¡­¡±

    ¡°What?! How?!¡±

    ¡°You fucking tell me! Those damned guards are everywhere.¡±

    ¡°Alright, try to see if you can regroup with us by the marketplace. We should be able to¨COh shi¨C!¡±

    The crystal suddenly lost its blue glow, turning dead gray. This signified to Mida that the corresponding crystal was now destroyed.

    ¡°Oh, shit.¡± The soldier felt his heart drop, his eyes looking up at the rooftops nearby.

    There was then the sound of boots scraping against the cobbled ground, catching Mida¡¯s attention. A man was rushing at him, his sword raised as it swung down on the soldier. Mida dodged the attack, scrambling as he tried to avoid another swing. He brought up his own sword, watching it clash with the other man¡¯s blade. As they struggled, Mida could see his opponent¡¯s face, which was that of an older man, his gray hair tied up into a tight knot.

    ¡°Who the hel are you people?!¡±

    Mida didn¡¯t get an answer as the man forced his sword aside before suddenly thrusting his sword¡¯s tip into the soldier¡¯s torso.

    Mida staggered back, his eyes widening as he looked down at his chest. The sword had perfectly pierced through the small gap in his armor, a feat that usually required either luck or practiced skill. The older man shoved the blade deeper, drawing a pained gasp from Mida. He looked up at the unforgiving eyes of his killer, who held Mida¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry it has to be this way,¡± the old man whispered before he let the young man drop to the ground. Blood filled Mida¡¯s mouth as he stared up at the gray sky of Valenfrost.

    <hr>

    Lilith could still remember that night, how embers floated in the sky of her hometown. It was a small town stationed at the western port, away from the major settlement of Aldren. She could remember how she and her brother were watching the stars, his dark bowl-shaped hair gently swaying in the wind as his green eyes stared at the stars up in the sky. It was an image she cherished deeply, as it was her last happy memory before it had all gone to hel.

    Lilith recalled how her brother had rushed her to the family home and how his hands had covered her eyes. She could only remember seeing the flames and hearing the screams, her confusion growing as both siblings reached the home. Her mother¡¯s red hair was loose and wild as she tried comforting Lilith, her father calling her brother to barricade the door.

    Lilith wanted him to stay and have her father protect her. Her father, a tower of a man, had told her to be brave before he rushed out into the outside, closing the wooden door behind him. Her brother barricaded the door with their mother, the shouts and screams outside growing. Lilith¡¯s memory was blurry then, clouded by the tears that filled her eyes. Her brother escorted her to her room, and her mother¡¯s voice was drowned out by the sounds of something banging against the blocked door.

    At some point in the night, she and her brother were hiding in their room, Lilith¡¯s hands clutching her bear. Lilith could still remember him shushing her, his finger moving up his lips as he signed with his other hand.

    Do not speak. Do not make a sound. Be silent.

    Lilith had taken those words to heart, her eyes staring at the door to their room. She heard her mother screaming, followed by the shouts of barbarians. Blurry and hazy, Lilith recalled the emotional scene after that. Both siblings had escaped from the house, its roof on fire as more shouts sounded off in the distance. She hurried ahead, holding her brother¡¯s hand.

    Lilith remembered the frosty night air, the freezing gust of wind as it numbed her face and hands. She remembered the feeling of warm specks of blood landing on her hands and cheeks, her eyes widening as she looked back at her brother.

    He had an arrow in his throat, his green eyes wide with fear, and his other hand clutching at the wound. He fell, his hand letting go of Lilith¡¯s. The traumatized girl looked up, her eyes focusing on the man in the distance, his face obscured by a white, grinning mask with beady eyes that threatened her with the same fate as her brother.

    ¡°Run.¡±

    <hr>

    Lilith slowly came to, her blurry vision soon growing clearer. She could hear the sounds of fighting, along with the taunts of the man who had knocked her out. Lilith blinked multiple times, her eyes focusing on the fight in front of her. She could see Seamus there, his bowl-shaped hair now a sweat-dampened mess. The shadows of the dimly lit room hid his eyes, making him seem cold and unforgiving. Lilith tried to move to help but was stopped by the sharp pains in her left arm. She looked upon her hurting forearm, a short blade pinning it to the wooden wall. Lilith struggled to pull it out, her right arm using all of its strength. No luck.

    She moved to see if she could break the handle off, her fist wailing on the hilt. Nothing. Lilith was growing agitated, and her frustration was made clear in her unarmed strikes against the handle. Lilith needed to get out to help Seamus. She grabbed her ax, raising it above the sword¡¯s hilt. Hesitation then made itself clear as her ax stayed in place. Lilith was about to give up until she heard a loud crash. She turned to see Seamus among some broken crates, his body slowly trying to get up.

    ¡°Come on, Halvorson! You can do better!¡± The armored man from before kicked at the young man, sending him rolling toward the center, right where the broken table was. Lilith watched as Seamus stood back up, his heavy breaths audible from where she was. Blood ran down his forehead, his green eyes staring at the giant with a mixture of anger and fear.

    He was hurt, injured, and losing against the terrifying man. He was going to die, and she wouldn¡¯t be able to stop it.

    ¡®No. Not like last time.¡¯

    Lilith felt her strength return, her anger coming in as a blinding rage that took over every fiber in her body. The young woman slammed her ax¡¯s edge against the sword¡¯s hilt, putting all of her strength into the attacks. The hilt slowly bent at her repeated barrage before finally being hacked off. Lilith screamed as she pulled her arm through the blade, wrenching herself free from the wall. The loud commotion caught the attention of the two men, who stared at her with bewilderment.

    Lilith immediately charged after the armored man without hesitation, rushing headfirst with her ax. Her good arm swung down her ax on the tall figure, all of her strength put into the strike. Her ax struck his vambrace, which had blocked it from hitting his helmet. Lilith recoiled back from the man, her teeth gritting as she fought the pain in her left arm. She quickly ducked beneath the giant¡¯s counter-attack, feeling the air from his swing. Lilith maneuvered to his left, her ax slamming against the giant¡¯s arm.

    No luck. His armor was deflecting her attacks like nothing. Still, she could spot the dents caused by her attacks. An idea popped into her mind, and her feet quickly moved away from the armored man¡¯s kick. Lilith caught her breath for a moment, her hand ripping off a piece of the cloak she had tied around her waist. She quickly wrapped the cloth around her bleeding arm, tying it up nice and tight. It wasn¡¯t the best solution, but it was better than nothing.

    ¡®Make sure Seamus is alright.¡¯

    Lilith risked a glance at the young man. Seamus was looking at Lilith with wide eyes, his calm and cold demeanor now replaced with his usual confused and frightened self.

    ¡°Lilith? What¡­ What happened? Why am I bleeding? I¡­ What¡­¡± Seamus turned to the bodies littered on the floor, his face growing pale. ¡°No¡­ No, no, no! Not again!¡±

    ¡°Ah, shit,¡± the giant sighed, his head shaking as he stepped closer to the two. Lilith bared her teeth at the threat, her ax positioning itself. ¡°It seems as if the fun is over. A shame. I was enjoying our little spar.¡±

    ¡°S-Spar? Those dents, that blood¡­ I did that?¡±

    The armored man chuckled at Seamus¡¯ terrified realization, his hand moving to pull his dented helmet off.

    Lilith nearly recoiled in surprise when she saw a man with webs of scars and burn marks covering nearly every inch of his bald head. He had a square, clean-shaven jaw and another scar that ran past his lips and eyebrows. The scarred giant looked at both of them, his unsettling red eyes focusing on the young man.

    ¡°You were a ruthless killer, Seamus Halvorson. No hesitation, no mercy,¡± the behemoth chuckled.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°Sorry? Ha! You were exactly what I¡¯ve been craving these past few years. So long has it been since someone has piqued my interest like you have, Halvorson.¡± He grinned at Seamus, who recoiled in surprise. ¡°Alas, I knew it wouldn¡¯t last. If only Delphine had given me just a few more moments with that side of you.¡± The giant sighed, shaking his head as he prepared his weapon.

    Before he got the chance to use it, Lilith used the chance to charge at the giant. She quickly closed the distance between them, her ax swinging at his exposed head. Her attack would be blocked once more, her ax¡¯s edge impacting with the man¡¯s staff weapon.

    ¡°Ah, you are a berserker, aren¡¯t you? You rely on anger for your strength and speed? What a barbaric tactic.¡± He pushed Lilith back, the ax end of his staff swinging down on her. Lilith moved her left arm up, preparing to take the hit with her injured limb. Seamus stepped in, his left arm blocking the attack with the shield he had on him earlier. The wooden round shield took the hit head-on, the ax end of the staff bouncing off its surface. Seamus visibly recoiled back but kept his ground, his shaking sword moving in for a strike.

    The armored man blocked the strike from hitting his head, his gauntlet deflecting the blow with ease.

    ¡°Still have some fight in you? Good!¡±

    He shoved Seamus back with the blunt end of the staff weapon, leaving Lilith exposed. The berserker didn¡¯t stand around like a fool. Her feet skidded against the floor as she evaded the ax head. Lilith¡¯s own ax moved in for a downward strike on the man¡¯s arm in an attempt to lop it off. Instead, her weapon bounced off his armor, missing the small gap by his steel bracers. The young woman braced for an attack as she saw how the grinning maniac stepped up, his foot moving to kick at her.

    However, the kick would never come as a spear¡¯s end suddenly ran the man¡¯s leg through, its bloodied tip pulled back as soon as it had come. The armored behemoth stumbled forward, a painful shout coming out of him as everyone turned to the perpetrator.

    Lilith blinked, her eyes focusing on the person who had saved her. It was the blonde woman from earlier, the one who Lilith had thought was dead. Her golden hair was bloodied and wild. Dark crimson ran down her bruised forehead, her right hand carrying a spear while her mangled left was wrapped in ripped cloth. She had a wide grin on her face, azure eyes burning with a look that would make an orc flinch.

    ¡°You¡­¡± the injured man spoke out, his surprise clear in his deep voice.

    ¡°Did you miss me, love?¡± Helen called out to him. ¡°How about we go for a second round? This one¡¯s on me.¡±

    <hr>

    Miles kicked the orc back, sending the green dolt back onto the railing. Dimitri came at the brute with his spear, stabbing the orc in his arm. The brute shouted in pain, clutching at his arm before Miles shoved him off of the deck and back onto the ice below. Both the mercenary and shipmaster were currently on the enemy longship, an idea that was showing its flaws. The ex-follower caught his breath, his head turning to the rest of the brutes on the longship. A couple of goblins were still nearby, their spears aimed at Miles and Dimitri.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    An orc stepped out from the group of green bastards, his blunt club wrapped in wire and nails. This brute was bald, his scarred scalp catching Miles¡¯ eye. There was an ax head stuck in this orc¡¯s skull, its steel long rusted and caked with dirt. The mercenary could remember the last time he had seen it, during the battle in the clearing.

    ¡°Krik, was it?¡±

    The orc scowled at the mention of his name, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Miles and the rest of the crew.

    ¡°Where are the rest of your companions? Where is that bastard Haggard?¡±

    ¡°Far away from here, judging from the last I saw of him. He¡¯s probably halfway to Vindis already,¡± Miles responded. He could clearly see Krik¡¯s agitation, the orc clenching his jaw as he stepped up.

    ¡°Lies,¡± the orc growled.

    ¡°Do you really doubt me?¡±

    Krik stared daggers at Miles, his hand clenching onto his club.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± Krik kicked at a nearby bucket, sending it flying out of the deck. ¡°If I can¡¯t get my revenge¡­ Well, I can always take out my frustrations on you and your blond friend.¡± The orc gave a heavy sigh, his club raised towards Miles and the shipmaster. ¡°I hope your friend Haggard finds out what I will do to you. So he can suffer the same way I have.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you try it, then?¡± A familiar voice rang out. Everyone on the deck turned to the source, which was coming from the rear of the ship, opposite where Miles and Dimitri were.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s unexpected,¡± Miles muttered.

    Haggard was standing at the end of the longship, his contagious grin visible from afar, as well as his signature hammer.

    ¡°Did you miss me?¡±

    The orcs all scowled in anger. Krik stepped towards the long-haired man, his hand gesturing towards Miles and Dimitri.

    ¡°Argo, Fron, take the goblins and deal with the follower and his friend¡­ The rest of us will handle this bastard.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound too pleasant,¡± Dimitri panted out, his spear raising.

    ¡°You want to switch with Liam?¡±

    ¡°Ha! I never said I was hesitant, my friend¡­¡± Both men readied their weapons, watching the armored goblins close in on them. Miles was the first to step up, his sword and dagger quickly moving in for a stab.

    ¡°Precision Strike!¡±

    <hr>

    Haggard watched as Miles and Dimitri dealt with their side of the longship, leaving the drifter to his own side. He had reached the vessel after Draugr¡¯s Haunt had landed on the thick ice, the same ice that had trapped the orc¡¯s longship and allowed the drifter to walk his way to the rear of the vessel. He had initially been worried about the lack of challenge but was pleasantly surprised to find a certain orc from the island. Haggard grinned at the thought of payback, his eyes focusing on that bastard Krik and his fellow orcs.

    ¡°Well then, let¡¯s see if you¡¯re all as durable as poor Krik over there,¡± Haggard taunted. The orcs all growled at him, their axes and clubs readying themselves.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Krik suddenly spoke out, the orc stepping up to Haggard. ¡°I want this one to myself,¡± the orc growled, waving away the others. ¡°I never got to fight fairly with you, Haggard, never got to have the challenge of facing you at your best.¡±

    ¡°Believe me. You wouldn¡¯t last five seconds if I truly tried my best,¡± the drifter said.

    ¡°Hmph, really? Would your best consist of ambushing like a coward?¡± Krik called out. ¡°Fight your best, Haggard, or I¡¯ll have fun scraping your brains off the deck!¡±

    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll do my best,¡± Haggard waved it off, his grin not even faltering for a second.

    ¡®Orcs, always thinking they¡¯re better than people.¡¯

    Krik took his stance, his club preparing for an advance on the drifter. Haggard sighed, taking his own stance. Both fighters slowly stepped closer to each other, their weapons brandished. Haggard was the first to attack, his hammer swinging down on Krik¡¯s exposed head. The orc dodged quickly, surprising the hammer wielder. Krik¡¯s club lunged at the older man, its blunt end impacting Haggard¡¯s torso. He staggered back, watching as the brute came in for another strike. Haggard quickly regained his footing, his hammer raising to block the swing.

    Their weapons clashed before Krik kicked at the drifter, sending him stumbling back again.

    ¡®How the hel did he get so quick?¡¯

    Haggard gritted his teeth as he swung his hammer again, putting in more force this time. Krik blocked the attack with his club, the hammer¡¯s blow visibly cracking its wood. Haggard was about to pull back before Krik grabbed at his wrist, the act surprising the drifter. Krik twisted Haggard¡¯s arm quickly enough to catch the man off guard and make him drop his hammer. In only a matter of seconds, Haggard was kicked away, hammerless.

    He blinked, his eyes returning to the smug orc and stolen hammer.

    ¡®How did he¡­?¡¯

    Krik, as it seemed, was much more clever than what the man had given him credit for.

    ¡°Really, Haggard? I thought you were going to give me your best. How disappointing.¡± Krik tossed his club aside, his arm testing the weight of the steel hammer. ¡°It seems your best isn¡¯t as exciting as I had hoped for.¡±

    ¡°You really want to see me at my best?¡± Haggard called out, his eyes narrowing. The damned orc was pissing him off to the point where Haggard was ready to show the bastard real strength.

    ¡°Ha! Another lie?¡± Krik guffawed, lowering the stolen hammer. ¡°You know what? I¡¯ll entertain you.¡±

    ¡°You sure you want a repeat of the last time you had my hammer? You will not get up this time,¡± Haggard warned.

    ¡°Trust me, I won¡¯t let you take it so easily.¡± Krik readied himself, his hand raising the hammer in a way that made its owner internally cringe.

    ¡°Try me,¡± Haggard hoped his taunt would work, as he would only have one chance of getting his precious weapon back. Thankfully, it worked.

    Krik charged at Haggard with a wild swing, aiming for his head. Haggard quickly evaded the swing, feeling the wind from the attack as it struck nothing but air. He grabbed at the orc¡¯s wrist, not unlike the way Krik had done to him. This time, the only difference was when Haggard¡¯s clenched fist struck the orc¡¯s elbow, bending it in the wrongest of ways. He watched as the hammer was let go from the orc¡¯s grip, the weapon falling to the deck. Haggard grabbed at the wrapped pommel before it hit the ground, using the momentum of its fall to swing it back in a quick circle right back at Krik.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡±

    The enhanced hammer collided with the orc¡¯s head, the strike obliterating it in a shower of bone and crimson. Bits of bloody viscera flew in all directions, Krik¡¯s lifeless corpse going limp right after. Haggard kicked the body back, an armored orc catching it out of surprise. Haggard closed the distance in a breath, his hammer coming down on the surprised orc.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡±

    The hammer crushed the brute¡¯s helmet inwards, forcing the head it was protecting into the creature¡¯s torso. The dying corpse seemed to grasp for something before it went down like Krik.

    There was an air of silence as Haggard pulled his bloody hammer away from the second corpse. His body was overheating, but it wouldn¡¯t matter to the drifter. He had dealt with worse conditions. The last two of the orcs stared at Haggard with terrified eyes, their hands shaking as they brandished their rusted axes.

    ¡°Well then,¡± Haggard breathed out, a small grin forming on his lips.

    ¡°Who¡¯s next?¡±

    <hr>

    Felix resisted the urge to cough in the heavy smog, his hand waving it off as his other clenched onto his bow. Once the Fireballs had struck the building, most of the soldiers and men had scattered, a good handful of them heading into the alleys and streets nearby. However, it was all part of their plan, as the new guardsmen had tied up their snares in those pathways and were adding parts of the town to ambush them.

    Unfortunately, there were a couple of outliers. Felix looked over the inside of the tavern, his eyes looking over the men with arrows in their necks. He sighed a breath of relief. These assholes were hard to take down since their armor was making things much trickier. One of them even used something similar to the shaman¡¯s fog cloud spell, filling the courtyard with smog before Felix had put an arrow in him. Thankfully for the archer, he was able to kill a good number of them before the smog spell took place.

    As Felix looked over the tavern, something caught his attention. He spun to the sound of boots scraping against the cobbled ground, his eyes focusing on the visible silhouette of a man.

    ¡®Callsign. Callsign.¡¯

    Felix aimed his bow toward the sound and moving figure before shouting out to the unknown person.

    ¡°Bloom!¡±

    The silhouette tensed up to Felix¡¯s voice, staying still before Felix shouted out once more.

    ¡°Bloom!¡± No response.

    ¡®Is it one of the townsfolk?¡¯

    The mystery man remained still for a moment before he suddenly rushed at Felix, his hand brandishing something. Felix loosed an arrow, the projectile striking against the figure. The man still ran. Felix loosed another arrow, then another, before the man finally stumbled and fell to the ground. Felix slowly approached the body, his eyes scanning over the man in a green tunic, his hawk insignia signifying him as an enemy.

    ¡°Thank the gods,¡± Felix relaxed his shoulders before hearing another scraping of boots. He aimed his bow at the next shadow in the thick smoke, his hand pulling the fletching of the arrow back on the string.

    ¡°Bloom!¡± The man tensed up, turning to Felix.

    ¡°Horcus!¡± It was Harald, the old veteran¡¯s voice calling back in response to the archer.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s tits, Harald! You scared me. Weren¡¯t you supposed to be at your post?¡± Felix watched as Harald emerged from the smoke. The veteran¡¯s armor was covered in dirt and blood from the soot.

    ¡°I already dealt with the men there. The rest of the guardsmen should take care of the others,¡± Harald explained.

    ¡°What about the townsfolk?¡± The captain asked.

    ¡°Scattered,¡± the veteran responded.

    ¡°No shit. Will they be able to handle themselves?¡± Felix questioned.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be fine if they could find a place to hide,¡± Harald muttered.

    ¡°Which is?¡± the archer asked.

    Harald didn¡¯t pay attention to Felix, his hand clenching onto his broadsword.

    ¡°Harald¡­?¡± Felix wasn¡¯t sure why the veteran had shifted his focus.

    ¡°Prepare yourself. There are men approaching us now,¡± Harald answered.

    ¡°What?¡±

    The veteran didn¡¯t have the time to explain as the sound of boots running on the cobbled ground reached Felix.

    The archer stuck close to Harald, his hands nocking another arrow on his bowstring. Both men braced themselves, their eyes watching the smoke before two men in green rushed out of the smog, coughing as they brandished swords. Harald moved in to attack, not giving either of them the chance to recover from the smoke.

    Felix followed his example, his hands loosing an arrow at one bastard. The projectile struck his target in the shoulder, the injured man stumbling back before Felix loosed another arrow. Then another. The man¡¯s green tunic was soon stained red, his hands clutching at the arrows in his neck and gut. Felix nocked another arrow, this time aiming at the man Harald was fighting. Before he could loose his arrow, however, someone suddenly tackled Felix.

    The archer and his attacker rolled around on the floor, with Felix struggling to use his dagger. The other man prevented this by slamming Felix¡¯s hand against the ground, forcing the dagger out of his hand. Felix saw his chance in this moment, his free hand moving to the quiver on his hip.

    Without hesitation, Felix took out and shoved an arrow into the man¡¯s throat, dark crimson speckling all over him and his armor. With some effort, the guardsman kicked the body away, catching his breath as he did so. As Felix moved to his fallen bow, which was by his feet, he noticed a man charging at him with a spear.

    Thinking fast, Felix quickly nocked the arrow on the string, his right foot pushing against the bow as he pulled back the string. He raised his leg, pulling the nocked arrow back with his weight before loosing it at his oncoming attacker. The arrow struck true, piercing the man¡¯s chin from beneath. As the body fell to the ground, so did Harald¡¯s opponent. The veteran looked at the sight, raising an eyebrow.

    ¡°Mind getting up? We¡¯re far from resting.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± Felix panted out, his hand grabbing at his bow as he stood back up. ¡°Let¡¯s get to the rest of the guardsmen and help them finish the rest of these bastards.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡®Get up! You need to get up!¡¯

    James groaned as he opened his eyes to the cold gray clouds of Valenfrost. He slowly moved to get a view of his surroundings, to see what was happening.

    ¡°What the¡­¡± He wiped his eyes, unsure if he was seeing things right. He blinked a couple times, his eyes focusing on the charging group of armed orcs and men, their weapons raised.

    ¡°For the Draugr!¡±

    ¡°Take that bastard down!¡±

    ¡®Am I hallucinating? Has my body finally gotten a heatstroke?¡¯

    The constant switching between James and Faust had been mentally and physically exhausting, the tactic heating his body to unbearable temperatures.

    ¡®No. You¡¯re not hallucinating.¡¯ Faust sounded just as exhausted as James felt.

    The young man slowly moved to stand, his breath coming out in large clouds of steam as he got a better look at the situation. He could see the group of fighters charging, their entourage consisting of the mercenaries, Silas, and even two orcs he had helped free. The Lumen Knight was currently staring at the charge, disbelief on his face as he moved to prepare himself.

    Archibald was the first to reach Gryff, his silver rapier glowing a bright blue.

    ¡°Multi-Strike!¡± The elf¡¯s arm moved in a blur, his rapier¡¯s tip rapidly stabbing at Gryff. The knight evaded the attacks, most of the rapid strikes scraping against his steel armor rather than doing damage. Gryff moved to cast a spell but was interrupted by Edmund, who hefted his broadsword in a downward swing toward the cryomancer. The strike missed, the broadsword¡¯s edge slamming against the ice as the knight backed away.

    Gryff prepared to stab at the young mercenary with his ice dagger, but Brant stepped in, the injured man wielding an ax with his good arm. He swung his weapon at the cryomancer, who evaded the strikes before he tried for a stab at Brant. However, before Gryff could land a meaningful blow, an orc interrupted, his roar heard for miles.

    ¡°Dog won¡¯t let you hurt anyone!¡± The orc swung both of his clenched fists down at the knight, who tried to retreat. However, before he could do so, Silas came in. He rammed his shoulder against Gryff, knocking the knight off balance. Silas was quickly backed up by another of his allies, Fero, from the look of it. The orcs all came at the Lumen Knight, who had trouble dodging and examining their moves.

    ¡°Ice Lance!¡± Gryff¡¯s spell impacted with Dog, the sharp piece of ice hitting the brute¡¯s shoulder. Gryff dodged another swing from Silas and Fero, safely avoiding their strikes. Unfortunately for the spellcaster, he forgot to account for the rest of the mercenaries.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡±

    Bjorn¡¯s enhanced strike was short of the momentum needed to do some actual damage, but the magically powered swing from his axe was enough to send Gryff flying to the ice, his steel breastplate sporting a nasty cut. The Lumen Knight landed on his hands and knees, back exposed to all.

    ¡°He¡¯s down!¡± Archibald shouted.

    ¡°Get him!¡± Edmund soon shouted right behind.

    Everyone moved in on Gryff. Even Dahlia joined the fray, dagger in hand, as she limped to the fallen knight. James watched as they all kicked and stabbed at Gryff, who was doing his best to defend himself from the attacks and loud shouts from the group of fighters.

    ¡°Fuck him up!¡±

    ¡°You like that?!¡±

    ¡°Lumen bastard!¡±

    James stared with clear surprise as both man and orc shoved and struck at the Lumen Knight, who could do little to nothing about the situation. Anytime he tried to defend himself, another strick came in and knocked him off balance, leaving him more open. However, James noted the way Gryff¡¯s hands glowed a dangerous blue, his eyes wide with anger as he hunkered down.

    ¡°Wait¡­ Wait!¡± James coughed as he tried to move, his muscles screaming at him to stay down. Fear was gripping at his heart, his hand clenching at the fallen sword nearby. ¡°Stop! He¡¯s going to¨C!¡±

    James would be too late.

    ¡°Push!¡± Gryff screamed out, his arms extending as everyone around him was suddenly thrown back. There was a gust of wind that drove even James back, making the young man fall back on his ass. Gryff stood up, panting heavily as blood ran down his forehead and lips. Everyone was trying to get up from the icy ground to go back to fighting.

    The first one to go at Gryff was Bjorn, the dwarf rushing in with his axe. The cryomancer evaded the attacks, his boot quickly moving to kick at the dwarf. Bjorn stumbled back from the strike, clearly dazed, before he tried for another swing, his voice shouting out with magical weight.

    ¡°Power Stri¨C!¡±

    ¡°Ice Lance!¡±

    Bjorn was interrupted mid-swing when a bolt of ice pierced his right eye, making the dwarf¡¯s head recoil back violently.

    ¡°Bastard!¡± Edmund shouted, the young man moving in with his broadsword.

    ¡°Frost Petals!¡± Gryff¡¯s hands quickly formed a circle in the air, and small shards of ice formed right after. He sent them to Edmund, the shards piercing the young mercenary¡¯s torso and, soon enough, his face. The young man¡¯s head whipped back from one of the ice petals, blood speckling onto the ice below. Gryff was about to form another set of petals before he was interrupted by someone else¡¯s shout.

    ¡°Precision Strike!¡± An enhanced silver rapier suddenly pierced Gryff¡¯s chest, and this attack succeeded in stabbing through the knight. James could see how its bloodied tip protruded from the spellcaster¡¯s back, something that shocked both him and the cryomancer.

    Archibald twisted the hilt of his rapier and struggled to pull his weapon out from in between the plates. Gryff didn¡¯t allow it, his hand grabbing the elf by the collar before promptly landing a punch on Archibald¡¯s jaw. The sudden strike sent the elf to the ground, stunning him momentarily. Gryff huffed and yelled in pain as he yanked the rapier from his body, more blood staining his armor and the surrounding snow.

    ¡°Insolent little¡­¡± Gryff moved to cast another spell but was interrupted by Dog, who swung at the cryomancer with angry swipes. Gryff caught one of the attempted hits, twisting the orc¡¯s wrist in a way that forced him to his knees. Then, as quick as Dog came in, Gryff put his right hand at the orc¡¯s throat, his fingers forming a rune.

    ¡°Ice Lance!¡± The orc¡¯s body recoiled violently, a bloody tip of ice protruding from the back of his neck.

    ¡°Dog! No!¡± Fero rushed in, the orc swinging his club at Gryff in hopes of striking him down in one hit. Gryff would disappoint him as the cryomancer quickly evaded the swing. In one swift motion, Gryff planted his knee in Fero¡¯s gut, forcing the orc to gasp out as the wind was knocked from his lungs. As Fero tried to regain his breath, Gryff grabbed at the orc¡¯s face, his free hand forming a rune behind the grab.

    ¡°Deep Freeze!¡±

    James watched in horror as the orc¡¯s head quickly wilted, ice forming on his shriveling skin. Once Fero¡¯s body stopped moving, the knight clenched his hand inwards, the act shattering the frozen head in multiple bits of frozen viscera.

    Just as James thought it wouldn¡¯t get worse, Dahlia stepped in, her dagger slashing and stabbing at the knight.

    ¡°You bastard!¡± Dahlia shouted. She tried for a stab at the knight¡¯s exposed throat but missed, Gryff¡¯s hands moving to disarm her. Dahlia was pushed away, her dagger now in the spellcaster¡¯s hand. Before he could have time to use it on her, Archibald rushed in, his bloodied rapier in his hand once more.

    ¡°Over here, you heathen!¡± The elf shouted, his rapier scraping against Gryff¡¯s shoulder.

    The knight turned around, evading another of Archibald¡¯s strikes before stabbing at the elf¡¯s shoulder with his ice dagger. Archibald visibly winced at the slash, his incoming rapier faltering its stab.

    ¡°Precision¡ªAgh!¡± The elf¡¯s attempted thrust was interrupted when Gryff grabbed at his wrist and pulled. The rapier went wide, its tip hitting the air as it missed. Stunned, Archibald could do nothing as Gryff raised and brought down an elbow. The sudden blow broke Archibald¡¯s arm with a resounding crack, contorting it in the other direction. Ignoring Archibald¡¯s screams, Gryff slammed his elbow into the elf¡¯s face, breaking his nose and sending him back onto the ice.

    ¡®Have to get up, now!¡¯

    James was forcing himself to stand, his knees weaker than they had ever been and his arms feeling as if they were tearing themselves apart.

    He could see Silas stand back up, his club cautiously raised in defense as he kept his distance from Gryff. The Lumen Knight seemed unfazed, his eyes staring at the orc with clear annoyance. Then, without much of a word, Gryff closed the distance, his boot kicking Silas back. He quickly formed a rune, aiming it right at the orc. Dahlia rushed in, the shaman screaming as she swung Fero¡¯s fallen club. She struck at Gryff¡¯s back, making the knight stumble forward, canceling his spell.

    ¡°You little¨C!¡± He was interrupted by Dahlia, who raised a hand to his face.

    ¡°Flare!¡±

 B.2 Chapter 45: Draugrs Haunt (Part Two)

    Seamus thrusted his sword at Hugo¡¯s side, his blade bouncing off of the knight¡¯s armor.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± Seamus quickly backed away from another one of Hugo¡¯s counters, his halberd¡¯s edge grazing against the young man¡¯s cheek. The young man staggered back, his eyes widening as he watched Hugo move in for another strike, the halberd¡¯s ax raised for a downward swing. Lilith interrupted before the knight could attack, the berserker slamming her shoulder against the giant. Hugo barely stumbled, but the distraction was enough for him to focus on Lilith, the blunt end of his staff coming down the berserker.

    Lilith was still recovering from her attempted tackle, which left her open to the strike. Seamus watched as a spear suddenly parried the staff¡¯s blunt end, its owner redirecting the attack to the ground. Helen stepped in to defend the berserker, her spear raising to strike against Hugo. The knight blocked with his arm, deflecting the spearhead with his bracer. This left the heavy man open to Seamus, who moved in with his sword. The young man could see his target, a small space in between Hugo¡¯s steel plates, a strike that would be major in this fight.

    In that small window of opportunity, however, Seamus hesitated. This small moment of weakness was enough to throw off his stab, which resulted in his sword¡¯s edge bouncing off steel. Hugo was quick to react, his armored backhand coming at Seamus at great speed. The young man raised his round shield just in time, his body thrown back from the impact of Hugo¡¯s strike against the wooden piece of protection. Seamus felt his back hit the hull, his breathing heavy as he regained his composure. He was scared shitless, yet felt as if his body was moving on its own. Like it was going through the motions.

    ¡®What the hel is happening?¡¯

    Seamus wasn¡¯t sure how he was to continue with this fight, especially since his body was shaking from the entire experience.

    ¡®You have to keep fighting, keep trying.¡¯

    Seamus looked up at Hugo, who was still trying to fend off the advances from Helen and Lilith, both of whom were seriously injured. Yet here was Seamus, who only had a couple of scratches and bruises on him.

    ¡®Are you really going to let them risk themselves for you, coward?¡¯

    Seamus swallowed, his hand clenching onto his sword¡¯s hilt.

    ¡®But I can¡¯t do it! I can¡¯t risk my life! I don¡¯t want to die!¡¯

    It terrified him, a fear that had haunted the young man for years. It was already enough that he had gambled his life multiple times in these past weeks.

    <blockquote>

    "You cannot run away from all your fears."

    </blockquote>

    His father¡¯s voice echoed in his mind.

    <blockquote>

    "There will always be times when you must step up and choose the ones you care about over those who wish to harm them. There is no place for fear."

    </blockquote>

    The words were years old, taken from when Seamus was still a child, training to become like his father.

    ¡®No¡­ Not like him.¡¯

    Seamus recalled the words his father had said to him, the ones that were in response to a certain question.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°Will I ever become you?¡±

    ¡°Gods no. You will never become me.¡± Yorn placed a hand on little Seamus¡¯ shoulder. ¡°You will be someone else. Your own man. Perhaps similar to your mother. Perhaps similar to me. But you will be your own man. And I pray you will be a better man than I. A stronger man than I.¡±

    </blockquote>

    Seamus felt his jaw clench tightly, his eyes focusing on the sword he held. It was a bloodied sword he had taken from a dead man, its edge battered and blunted from multiple strikes against Hugo¡¯s armor. He looked up, focusing on the familiar scabbard across the deck, this particular sword being the one that was given to him by Kate Rowan. An idea slowly formed in his head. It revolved around a simple maneuver that he had been trained in. Seamus took a deep breath, his father¡¯s voice in his head now.

    ¡®Your attacks must have conviction. Your reactions must be instinctual. Your speed must be blinding.¡¯

    ¡°No holding back,¡± Seamus muttered. He dropped his shield, his hands clenching onto the bloodied sword. He took one more deep breath, focusing on the armored giant in front of him, who was about to advance on Helen and Lilith.

    ¡°No hesitation.¡± Seamus rushed forward, his legs propelling him towards his target. Hugo turned to the young man, his body already moving to attack. Unfortunately for him, Seamus was quicker. Hugo¡¯s halberd struck the air, its edge clipping off a couple of hairs from the young man¡¯s head. Seamus had thrust his sword forward, its bloodied tip sinking into a small gap in the giant¡¯s plates. He let go of the hilt, leaving the weapon inside as Hugo tried for another backhand at the young man.

    Seamus quickly turned to grab his sheathed sword, his hand grabbing at its silver hilt and embroidered scabbard. He spun around, unsheathing his sword while still in motion. Hugo came into sight, his hands pulling out the sword still inside him. Without delay, Seamus rushed toward him. Hugo locked his gaze on the rushing man, his lips forming into a scowl as he quickly moved to counter the incoming attack. Seamus was about to have second thoughts until Helen stepped in, her spear stabbing at the knight¡¯s arm. Her lunge struck true, her spear¡¯s tip piercing through the small gap in his bracers.

    Hugo roared in pain, his rage-filled eyes focusing on the grinning ex-marauder. Before he could do anything, however, Seamus was already on him. His sword slashed at the exposed crevice in Hugo¡¯s armor once more, the young man putting all of his strength and speed into the attack. Blood speckled everywhere, and the attack caused Hugo to stumble back from shock. Hugo immediately pulled his skewered arm away from Helen, the sound of ripping flesh audible as he tore away from the spear.

    Clutching his gut wound, Hugo swung his halberd at Seamus, who instinctively dodged to the side and avoided the grisly fate. Seamus swung his sword at Hugo¡¯s wrist, the strike cutting through the small area in between his gauntlet and bracer. Another hit.

    ¡°Agh!¡± Hugo recoiled in pain, the halberd dropping to the ground. He tried to grab at it, but Helen¡¯s spear suddenly pinned his arm to the floor, the ex-marauder exerting herself as she ran the man¡¯s arm through.

    ¡°He¡¯s open!¡± Helen shouted.

    Seamus raised his sword and aimed its tip at Hugo¡¯s exposed head. With a breath, he lunged forth, ready to end this. Hugo raised his free arm at the last possible second, barely blocking the attempted stab. The sword scraped against steel and hit nothing but air, missing the knight completely. Before anyone could react, Hugo grabbed at the sword, his gauntlet snapping the blade in half.

    Seamus blinked as he watched the man effortlessly break the weapon, his eyes widening in shock. It broke him out of his focus. He could only stare at the broken sword dumbly, his focus solely on the precious weapon. He never saw Hugo¡¯s punch.

    The blow threw Seamus back, the taste of blood making itself present on his tongue. He fell to the ground, vision blurred and doubled as he tried to regain his composure. He slowly sat up, hand still clenching at the broken sword. Seamus forced himself to look up, only to watch helplessly as Hugo punched Helen away. With little to no effort, Hugo pulled the spear out of his arm with a sickening noise, his blood spattering all over his arm and torso. He spat onto the ground, his red eyes focusing on Seamus.

    ¡®Am I going to die?¡¯

    Seamus¡¯ fear returned to grip his heart, and hopelessness clouded his mind as he watched the behemoth slowly stand.

    Suddenly, a blur of rage and steel came out of nowhere, its ax burying itself on Hugo¡¯s side and finally landing a meaningful hit. The knight reacted violently, his fist coming down on the quick berserker. She dodged, her other hand shoving what looked to be James¡¯ own short sword into another exposed area in the giant¡¯s armor. Lilith dodged another attack, grabbing at the ax she had stuck into the knight earlier.

    ¡®She¡¯s going to get herself killed.¡¯

    Seamus tried to stand, his sleeve wiping the blood from his broken nose and bruised lips. Lilith wrenched the short sword out of the giant¡¯s side, which caused the affected man to yell out in anger,

    ¡°I¡¯M GOING TO HANG YOUR CORPSES OFF THE MAST OF MY SHIP AND¡ª!¡±

    ¡°Just SHUT the FUCK up!!¡± Helen yelled, her spear running through Hugo¡¯s leg, forcing him to fall to his knees.

    Lilith screamed as she hacked and slammed her ax¡¯s edge against Hugo¡¯s shoulder before dodging another swipe from the knight. Hugo tried to grab at his fallen halberd, which Seamus scrambled to get, his hands snatching the weapon away from the knight. The berserker rammed James¡¯ short sword into the knight¡¯s extended hand, drawing another pained scream from Hugo,

    ¡°YOU¡¯RE ALL DEAD!!¡±

    The ex-marauder struggled behind the giant, her spear wrenching out of the man¡¯s leg and piercing into his other arm to prevent him from striking her as well.

    ¡°Seamus! DO IT!¡± Helen screamed at Seamus, her eyes wide with desperation and adrenaline.

    The young man wasted no time. He screamed out of exertion and adrenaline as he raised the heavy halberd, his arms bringing it down on the Lumen Knight¡¯s exposed head. Seamus¡¯s strike flew in a blur and buried the halberd¡¯s edge into Hugo¡¯s skull with a violent thwack, specks of blood flying everywhere before the knight¡¯s body went limp.

    The giant¡¯s corpse twitched a bit, his eyes staring at Seamus with glaring conviction. Still, he was far from alive, judging from how his soulless windows displayed no life. Everyone around stayed standing for a good few seconds, all out of breath and adrenaline as they stared at the grisly sight. Seamus didn¡¯t even know what to say or do. Other than to stare at the man he had just killed.

    Helen was the first to fall, her body laid out on the deck as she panted. Lilith was second, the berserker stumbling back against the hull before she slowly slid down. She was breathing rapidly, her red hair in a wild mess. Seamus was the last one standing, his eyes staring at the dead body of Hugo of House Ardel. The young man collapsed, wheezing, as he looked down at his calloused hands, which shook slightly.

    Seamus suddenly did something strange. He chuckled despite the grim situation. Maybe it was the pain or the stress; he didn¡¯t know. His chuckling slowly developed into laughing, his hands shaking even more as he tried to cover his mouth. The young man¡¯s laughing attracted everyone else¡¯s attention, their eyes looking at the young man in confusion. Helen joined in, her head shaking slightly as she laughed along with Seamus, taking rasping breaths now and then. Even Lilith started to awkwardly chuckle before she, too, joined in on the laugh fest. Slowly at first, Seamus¡¯ laughs soon devolved, tears running down his cheeks as his seemingly joyous laughing slowly turned to sobbing.

    Only then did he fully allow his emotions to run free.

    <hr>

    Ringing filled James¡¯ ears, his eyes blinking as a white screen obscured his vision. He blinked quickly, doing his best to regain sight. Dahlia¡¯s Flare spell might have disoriented him, but his resolve was still there. Through squinted eyes, he could see Gryff, the knight covering his face, as he stumbled around. James stepped forward, squinting as his vision finally returned. Dahlia was currently regaining her footing, her eyes visibly blinking. Silas was doing the same, the orc stepping back from the knight and the bodies that surrounded him.

    ¡®James, we only have one chance at this,¡¯ Faust suddenly communicated, the spirit¡¯s voice filling the young man¡¯s ears. ¡®Get this bastard for everything he¡¯s done.¡¯

    Taking a deep breath, James prepared himself, his feet suddenly kicking off the ice as he rushed at the recovering Lumen Knight. Gryff had barely enough time to notice James, let alone defend himself before they both clashed. James tackled Gryff onto the ice, his hand reaching for the shaman¡¯s stolen dagger.

    Both men struggled on the ice, with James securing the ornate dagger from the spellcaster¡¯s hand. The knight tried to grab at the blond man¡¯s face, his hand glowing a dangerous blue. James slashed at the open palm, not wanting the same fate as Fero. Gryff instantly recoiled back, his blue eyes wild with anger and surprise. James tried to go for a stab at the cryomancer¡¯s open throat but was quickly kicked back by the knight¡¯s boot.

    Gryff formed a rune in his hand, his fingers directed at James. ¡°Ice Lance!¡±

    James felt his body burn with effort as Faust forced his body to react in time, the ice shard missing his head by a couple of inches. Gryff tried for another rune but was interrupted by Silas, who swung his club at the knight. The orc was slower than the knight and missing his attacks, but James knew Silas was trying to buy him time. The young man tried to get back up, his breathing heavy.

    ¡®I need to use it again. Carapace.¡¯

    ¡®What? You¡¯ll cook yourself to death!¡¯ Faust protested.

    ¡®He¡¯s going to kill us if I don¡¯t use it!¡¯ James shot back. It was their only line of defense.

    ¡®Are you really going to take that chance?¡¯ The spirit muttered.

    ¡®I¡¯m going to die either way. At least, this way, we have a chance of killing him.¡¯

    ¡®If you do this, I won¡¯t be able to force your body to dodge. You¡¯ll be on your own.¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m fine with that. Let¡¯s do it.¡¯

    As James readied himself to cast the spell, he noticed Dahlia nearby. The shaman was catching her breath as she tried to get up.

    ¡®Good, she¡¯s still in the fight.¡¯

    James took a deep breath, doing his best to cool his body down. He could see the fight between the orc and the knight ahead, Silas visibly losing as Gryff landed a fist against the orc¡¯s gut, drawing out a breath. James realized that Gryff was attempting to use Deep Freeze on Silas, the same way he did to Fero.

    ¡°Gryff!¡± James shouted, interrupting the knight¡¯s spell. It was enough for the cryomancer to lose his focus, which allowed James a small window of time to save Silas.

    The young man kicked off the ice once more, brandishing Dahlia¡¯s dagger as he focused on his will.

    ¡°Carapace!¡±

    A sudden heat coursed through his body, something unfamiliar compared to the first couple of times he had used the spell. Instead of a snug feeling, James was hit by a heat that rivaled a furnace, the taste of burnt berries suddenly making itself known on his tongue. His vision even blurred, his feet nearly stumbling as he ran. Still, James soldiered on, his sights focused on the dumbfounded knight. The young man made a motion that resembled a stab, his eyes watching the blurry image of Gryff moving to block. At the last moment, James turned his attempted stab into open arms as if he was going to hug the cryomancer.

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    He braced himself before they finally clashed, his teeth clenching as he waited for the pain. Then, just as James embraced Gryff, he felt the punch. The taste of blackberries turned overwhelming, letting the young man know that the strike was enough to nearly break his ribs had it not been for the spell protecting him. Thankfully, Carapace prevented James from recoiling in pain; his mind was now focused enough to enact the next part of his suicidal plan. James plunged the dagger into the exposed gap in Gryff¡¯s breastplate, a gap that was too small for most to hit precisely. Unless you were practically hugging the knight.

    Gryff¡¯s eyes widened as James forced the dagger into his chest, the young man¡¯s act drawing a pained gasp from the knight.

    ¡°Infirmus¡­¡± James suddenly spoke out, Faust¡¯s own words leaking out into the real world.

    Gryff responded to James with words of his own.

    ¡°Ice Lance.¡±

    James¡¯ eyes widened as he felt the sharp, unbearably freezing piece of ice pierce into his gut, Carapace reacting in a way that made his body overheat to a dangerous level. The magical spell eventually broke, shards of magic flying away from his body as the taste of blood and berries mixed in his mouth. James stumbled back, his hand pulling the dagger out of Gryff, the act making the knight recoil in pain before he went down on a knee. James joined him, his hand clenching on the ornate dagger as he watched Gryff slowly recover.

    ¡®He¡¯s going for a potion!¡¯ Faust suddenly shouted. James blinked and focused on the knight. He could see how Gryff¡¯s hand reached for a pouch on his belt. ¡®James! Stop him!¡¯

    James moved to the Ice Lance still stuck inside his body. The sharp piece of ice was thankfully only a quarter of the way in, thanks to Carapace. James wrenched the piece of ice out, yelling as sharp jolts of pain coursed through his abdomen. He looked up to see Gryff holding a gold vial, his teeth breaking the wax seal.

    ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t!¡± Dahlia suddenly came in, the shaman tackling the knight before he could drink the potion.

    ¡°James! Hurry!¡± The young man didn¡¯t stop to ask nor hesitate, his feet forcing him forward. James raised the dagger above his head, aiming to stab at Gryff once more.

    The knight revolted, his efforts pushing the shaman back as he went after James. James felt time stop. His eyes focused on Gryff as the man formed his right hand into a rune. Thinking fast, James kicked at the knight¡¯s open hand, canceling out the spell and causing Gryff to shout out in pain,

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s f¡ª!¡±

    The ornate dagger sunk into his collar, interrupting the knight¡¯s shout. Blood speckled and spurted, the cryomancer wincing in pain as James forced him onto a knee.

    ¡°Agh! Who are you?!¡± Gryff shouted. His rage-filled eyes looked up at James, who stared back with a fury he had never felt before.

    ¡°I¡¯m the fucking Draugr.¡± James seethed. With that, he grabbed at Gryff¡¯s exposed head with a grip that could bend steel. Just as he expected, he felt their minds clash. Heat coursed through both parties, and James¡¯ body suddenly rejuvenated with newfound stamina, adrenaline running through his veins.

    Both minds clashed a second time, making the young man recoil back physically and temporarily let go of Gryff¡¯s head. His mental fortitude was insane, but James couldn¡¯t stop. He couldn¡¯t afford to. Yelling, James grabbed at the cryomancer¡¯s head once more, forcing another clash with Gryff as Faust joined in, now assisting to help.

    ¡®Don¡¯t let go!¡¯

    The Centurion¡¯s own spirit helped James as both of their minds clashed with Gryff¡¯s. Despite the blinding white in front of his eyes, James could vaguely make out what was happening. He could see how Dahlia stared in confusion and fear, watching the whole ordeal as both men¡¯s eyes glowed a fiery blue.

    Images soon replaced the white screen in front of his eyes. They depicted distant shores, tall structures, fellow Lumen Knights, grand Wizards, and Kings.

    James could see the city Gryff came from, the place he had called home. Libraries full of endless books that he had read in his spare time. The sprawling city of Lumen and its many inhabitants. The images showed his fellow knights, Wizards, and superiors. Names he had never heard of before. They showed his time in the wars, the frozen bodies of barbarians and orcs, and the lifeless eyes of a young boy in armor. He could see both Gryff and Hugo fighting together, both men virtually unstoppable when working together.

    James pushed through and felt Gryff¡¯s ley lines through the clashing, seeing the gaping difference in magical power between both men. To say Gryff¡¯s magical structure was superior to James¡¯ was a criminal understatement. The cryomancer¡¯s reserves seemed to be damn near bottomless, and James knew he wouldn¡¯t be able to drain them like he had planned.

    ¡®But, we might not have to¡­¡¯ Faust¡¯s strained voice managed out. James was about to ask but soon caught on to what the Centurion was suggesting.

    ¡®I hope this works!¡¯

    If it didn¡¯t, it would result in James becoming nothing more than a drained corpse.

    In that split second, both the young man and Centurion made their decision, their spirits flaring with heat as they overflowed the cryomancer¡¯s ley lines. James could feel how the sudden fluctuation of magical power strained Gryff¡¯s natural ley lines. The pain between the two grew, screams coming from both parties as the young man put in everything he had in him.

    ¡®Just¡­ a little more¡­¡¯

    Before he could continue, however, James felt Gryff¡¯s fingers on his left hand, the spellcaster shouting out in desperation as he weakly tried to pull James away.

    ¡°Deep Freeze! Deep Freeze, dammit!¡±

    James felt his left hand suddenly stabbed by the freezing cold spell. The heat from the clash mixed in with the unbearably cold spell caused interference between both men. James could feel his hand lose and regain feeling throughout the clashing. Still, the young man persisted, feeling blood run down his nose as he screamed in effort. Thankfully, the Deep Freeze spell would not be completed as Dahlia quickly moved in to pull the cryomancer¡¯s arms back, careful enough not to get affected by the spell.

    James would continue to hold on to Gryff¡¯s skull for what felt like years, forcing all of his energy into the attack. The spellcaster¡¯s ley lines overflowed and strained against James and Faust¡¯s spirit, reaching their limit before they suddenly burst. There was a sudden feedback of magic, temporarily engulfing the surrounding area in a blinding light. Burning sensations engulfed James¡¯ hands, making the young man feel as if he had stuck both appendages into a raging bonfire. He gritted his teeth, fighting through the pain as Gryff¡¯s screams filled his ears. Then, silence.

    James blinked, the white screen in front of his eyes gone and his mind free of the sharp, unbearable pains. His body radiated heat like he was on fire, his muscles unresponsive as he tried to move himself away from the sight in front of him. Gryff was now limp, his eyes and mouth slowly burning with what looked to be blue flames. The spellcaster¡¯s corpse slumped forward, his kneeling body resting as smoldering viscera dripped from his burnt sockets and gaping mouth.

    The otherworldly man slowly lifted his hands away from the cadaver, his eyes focusing on his arm. His left hand, to his forearm, was now blackened and covered in a thin layer of frost. It looked like frostbite, not too dissimilar to the eerie way the abominations had looked like. He stared at the sight, mesmerized. James soon collapsed onto the ice before he finally blacked out.

    <hr>

    Miles kicked at the body of the last dead orc, his eyes looking up to Haggard, the drifter giving him a tired grin.

    ¡°What now?¡± Miles breathed out, feeling the icy wind brush through his sweat-dampened hair.

    ¡°Now we deal with the rest of the Lumen bastards,¡± Haggard spat out of the longship.

    ¡°Are you fucking kidding me?¡± Dimitri managed out, the shipmaster slowly regaining his breath.

    ¡°No. Gryff and Hugo are most definitely alive. We will have to help James and¨C¡± Haggard was interrupted by the loud voice of Liam, who shouted over to the men in the longship.

    ¡°Hey! It¡¯s over!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Miles turned to the ginger man, watching as Liam gestured towards the other side of Frostbite.

    ¡°It¡¯s done! Those Lumen bastards are dead! We won! Freyja¡¯s tits, we won!¡±

    Haggard blinked in confusion, the drifter looking as if he didn¡¯t hear Liam right. Miles heard him, however, and he still couldn¡¯t believe it.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ Insane,¡± Haggard muttered, the older man looking over at Miles with a look of disbelief.

    Miles only had one question, his eyes turning to Liam.

    ¡°Where are they?¡±

    <hr>

    Felix rested quietly on a nearby crate, panting as he looked upon the captured men. A good number of them were the ones in green tunics, the count on them summing up to six. As for the Lumen soldiers, only four remained. Most of them had wanted to die rather than be captured. At least, that was what Harald had said. Felix turned to the remaining guardsmen, most of whom were resting nearby.

    At the beginning of the fight, the new guardsmen numbered twelve men and women. Now, they were down to seven. Kate Rowan was nearby, the young woman sporting a small scar on her cheek and hand, blood staining her armor and blue sash. Dirk Andal was sitting nearby, the young man¡¯s eyes like glass as they looked down at his sword. Felix knew well that these kids would never forget this day.

    ¡°Are any of the injured going to survive?¡± Felix asked, turning to the old man nearby. He was the surgeon who had treated Felix weeks prior, back when the marauders had raided Yorktown. The elderly healer sighed as he cleaned his bloodied hands with a wet rag, his eyes glancing back at the injured.

    ¡°Your guards will be fine. Jonas Harris lost a lot of blood, but he will be fine. Without a hand, of course, but alive. Elena won¡¯t be able to walk for a few weeks, but she will be fine in a month¡¯s time. Oscor¡¯s wounds seem to be nonfatal, so he¡¯s fine¡­. As for our prisoners, starting with the men in armor, well, they refused any help. The ones in green tunics, however, accepted my help. Mainly bruises and some bleeding cuts, but they¡¯re fine,¡± the surgeon explained.

    Felix nodded, cupping his chin as he listened. The older man sighed after his report, his clean hand pushing up his spectacles.

    ¡°Can I ask you something, Felix?¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Are you sure that you got all of them? The townsfolk are nervous that a couple might¡¯ve gotten away and want you to be sure.¡±

    Felix sighed in response, his eyes moving to where he had last seen Harald.

    ¡°Their ship, Talon, sailed off during the confusion. I¡¯m not sure how many left, but my guess is as good as yours. As for ones caught in the ambush, Harald went off to weed out any potential survivors¡­ I¡¯m not sure when he¡¯ll be back.¡± Then, just as Felix had said those words, a young guard came out from a path, panting as he reached the courtyard where they were resting.

    ¡°Felix, sir! Harald wants you to come to the harbor now! It¡¯s urgent!¡±

    ¡°Calm down, Gene¡­ What do you mean, urgent?¡±

    ¡°The harbor, sir! It¡¯s a god-damned bloodbath!¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°James!¡±

    Everything was dark, not a single ray of light piercing it.

    ¡°Wake up, dammit!¡±

    James could still hear a voice, however, calling to him beyond the void. He could barely make it out, but he knew full well who it belonged to.

    ¡®Dahlia¡­¡¯

    ¡°Don¡¯t you die! Fuck!¡±

    He forced every fiber of his body to move, his heavy eyelids slowly opening to let in the light of the outside world. Despite seeing the world, he couldn¡¯t make out much. He could only see the distressed shaman, who was shaking him. Her hair was tied up into multiple buns behind her head, and her tanned skin was flawless and without a scar. James could see snowflakes fall around her as two moons shone in the night sky, looking down at him like the eyes of some celestial being.

    He blinked and was treated to a different sight. Blood now ran down the shaman¡¯s forehead, bleeding cuts and fresh scars riddling her arms and face. Her now short hair was wild and lopsided, giving her a rugged look. The sky above was an ugly gray, darkening little by little as the day ended. She looked so different from the last time they had been in this position before, which somehow was amusing to the young man.

    James forced out a chuckle, soon regretting the act as his lungs suddenly coughed. The taste of copper filled his mouth, a feeling now all too common for the young man.

    ¡°Oh, thank Freyja!¡± Dahlia¡¯s expression turned from desperation to clear relief, a small smile on her lips as she tried to sit James up. The pain was too much for the young man, and he blacked out temporarily.

    When he came to, he was sitting on the ice. Dahlia was bringing up the gold vial Gryff had held earlier, her soft voice soothing to the young man.

    ¡°There¡¯s not much left, but it should heal you enough,¡± the shaman muttered as she brought the vial to his lips, the sickeningly sweet taste of cherries and cinnamon suddenly replacing the one of copper and blood in his mouth. Normally, James would have spat out the drink because of its overwhelming sweetness, but he was too drained to react. The potion did its job soon, his body suddenly regaining a bit of vigor. Granted, not enough to fully heal the man, but enough to keep him alive and awake.

    The events after he drank the potion became blurry, the young man having no clue what was happening other than that he was being dragged across the ice, his arms being supported by two people at his side.

    ¡°Stay with me, friend. We¡¯re almost home.¡±

    ¡®Home¡­¡¯

    James watched the ice below him, his body too tired to even move.

    ¡®Home¡­¡¯

    It repeated in his head. He closed his eyes, visualizing the all too familiar image of the black lake, the one his father had taken him to. Despite only being there twice, it always popped up in his head whenever he thought of home.

    ¡®I promise,¡¯ His father¡¯s words echoed throughout his memories.

    ¡®My little Kvitravn. I will always be there with you,¡¯ His mother¡¯s voice now rang in his thoughts, her soothing voice giving the young man enough strength to lift his head. His tired eyes opened to see the harbor of Yorktown, the ice from Gryff¡¯s spell reaching its edge.

    James blinked, and he was suddenly on the harbor, the two people supporting him finally coming into view. He recognized one as being the man he had saved on the island, a blond man with a scar running down his face. The other person was a face he did not expect to see again.

    Haggard gave James a small grin, his hands helping the young man up into a walking motion. ¡°Do not worry, my friend. I won¡¯t be going anytime soon.¡±

    ¡°You guys actually came back,¡± James slightly chuckled, watching as Haggard helped him across the stone ground. ¡°Where¡¯s Dahlia? Is she alright?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s alright. Liam and Miles are helping her walk back here.¡±

    ¡°What about Bjorn? Edmund? Archibald?¡± James watched as Haggard hesitated, his eyes avoiding James.

    ¡°Right now, we need to get you to a doctor.¡±

    ¡®No¡­¡¯

    James recalled how the mercenaries had jumped in to fight to back up him and Dahlia. Even the orcs he had barely known had risked and paid with their lives. James winced as he tried to support himself to walk straight, his head turning to look behind him. Miles and Dimitri were there, helping Dahlia into the harbor. He could see the frozen sea behind them, displaying Frostbite and the other ships that surrounded her. The freezing spell had solidified a good chunk of the sea, the ice extending all the way to the harbor. James blinked, his heart dropping as he saw the mess of red and black around the half-sunken ship, his eyes focusing on what looked to be the crew as they tended to the bodies.

    ¡°Halt! Who goes¨CHoly shit¡­¡± James turned to see a couple of young men in guard clothes, their blue sashes stained with dirt and blood.

    ¡°Go notify Felix and Harald now!¡± One of them shouted at the other, who nodded without hesitation before he ran off into the town. James moved to speak, to say anything, but his exhausted body wouldn¡¯t let him. Instead, James opted to stay silent, his eyes tiredly watching as the men helped him and Dahlia into town.

    As he was guided through the cobbled streets, James noted the signs of battle. Blood now stained the cobbled stone, and the acrid smell of smoke permeated the air.

    ¡®What the hell happened here?¡¯

    They soon entered the courtyard, where James could see the aftermath of what had happened in town. Guardsmen were sitting nearby, most of them wrapped with bandages. They all perked up at the sight of James, who could only watch as they guided him into the tavern, where he could see more bloodstains and signs of a struggle. They rested him against a barrel, Haggard calling out for someone to bring a doctor. James couldn¡¯t make out some words but knew that¡¯s what the drifter had meant.

    Soon enough, Dahlia joined in, the shaman seated next to him. She looked like hell, her short hair dripping wet, either from sweat or the snow she had been tumbling in for the last hour. Still, she looked better than James, who was currently trying his hardest not to pass out. Before any of the two could speak, a man came into view. Yorktown¡¯s doctor, James recognized. He went to tend James and Dahlia, his hands moving to examine their wounds.

    ¡°Are there any other injured people?¡± he called out to Haggard, who nodded.

    ¡°Several, back at the ship. Our medic advised us not to move them. He¡¯s currently treating them, but I think he¡¯s going to need help.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Mathis! Come here and tend to these two. I will treat the ones back on the ice.¡± The elderly man stood up, waving over another man to come and help. James watched as the new medic came in, his hands bringing in what looked to be a doctor¡¯s bag. After some speaking, the old man departed with Haggard, leaving James with Dahlia as the other medic came in to check up on the both of them.

    James couldn¡¯t hear what he was saying or asking, for that matter. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his breathing, which was still as ragged as before. He could also feel how his abdomen hurt, a pain that would probably rank third. His arm, weirdly enough, still had some feeling in it despite the unbearable pain it brought whenever he tried to move it. With all of this going on, plus more, James was certain that he could easily die. Still, for some reason, he wasn¡¯t focused on his own mortality. He thought about Seamus, who was probably injured or dead. Helen had probably shared that fate, along with anyone beneath that deck.

    ¡®I hope they made it out alright.¡¯

    His thoughts soon wandered to Dahlia, who was resting against the barrel beside his.

    James looked toward the shaman, recalling their fight with Gryff and how he had nearly killed her. The thought had never terrified him as much as it did then. The simple fact of losing her was a fear he had never truly recognized until today.

    ¡®Please don¡¯t die.¡¯

    James could feel his eyes closing, his vision slowly blurring as it darkened. He could feel his hand move to Dahlia¡¯s, his numb fingers gently squeezing her palm. Before he lost consciousness, James felt her squeeze back.

 B.2 Chapter 46: Kvitravn

    The waves slowly lapped against the harbor and port, the clouds of Valenfrost parting enough to reveal the sky and setting sun, its orange light shining all over Yorktown¡¯s port. Among the port were four ships, three of them being permanent guests in the town¡¯s harbor. The last one was a departing merchant ship, its crew carrying supplies and materials onto the deck to prepare for the trip to Vindis.

    Dahlia Astera looked out into the sea, her eyes passing over the area where the royal ship had sunk months prior. The ice that froze the ships in place was now long gone, broken apart by the crew of Frostbite and the Draugr¡¯s Haunt weeks ago. Even with a memory so distant, her body ached in remembrance of both the pain and the emotional weight of what had happened.

    ¡°Where will you go?¡± She turned to the men to her left, her question catching their attention.

    Edmund looked up from his journal, his hand moving to shift his eyepatch into place.

    ¡°Azurvale, of course,¡± the young man answered before closing his leather-bound book. ¡°I still have a ways to go before I¡¯m home, but Azurvale is a good start.¡±

    ¡°Bah!¡± Bjorn called out, the dwarf¡¯s single eye looking up at the young man. ¡°Azurvale is boring! Valenfrost is where the real action is!¡±

    ¡°Valenfrost is what took your eye away and nearly cost me mine!¡±

    ¡°Exactly! We¡¯re warriors bound by crisis!¡± Bjorn grinned viciously at Edmund, who sighed in frustration. ¡°Stay here with us, Edmund. Fight alongside your comrades and cut down the ones who stand in our way!¡± Despite the dwarf¡¯s shouts, Dahlia could tell that Bjorn was exaggerating his words, his remaining eye glinting with amusement as Edmund chuckled in response.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, friend. As much as I would love to risk my life with you, I would rather go back home and put that life behind me,¡± Edmund chuckled.

    ¡°Hmph...¡± Bjorn crossed his arms, shaking his head before he turned to Miles, the ex-follower currently reading a small book of his own.

    ¡°What about you, smiley? I thought you would follow interesting people? Why are you heading out?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m only following a call Myr has given to me. I won¡¯t be leaving permanently,¡± Miles chuckled at Bjorn, his hand closing his small booklet.

    ¡°A call?¡±

    ¡°A vision, if you will,¡± Miles groaned as he stood up, his newly painted mask looking over at the horizon. ¡°The visions of Myr haven¡¯t ceased to be interesting so far, but I have a feeling that they will lead me back here once more. Maybe in a few months, years, maybe even a week. Still, don¡¯t expect me to leave forever.¡±

    ¡°Crazy bastard,¡± Bjorn muttered, the dwarf sitting down on a nearby crate. ¡°I hope you all get shipwrecked and end up back here.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the kind words, Bjorn. I hope the best for you, too,¡± Edmund shook his head before he looked over at the shaman. ¡°So, you and the drunk are the only ones here to bid us farewell?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re complaining. We had an entire night of drinking dedicated to bidding the both of you farewell.¡± Dahlia laughed. ¡°Everyone else is busy. Archibald and Helen are still recovering, Haggard and Seamus are finishing up on fixing the rest of the town, Dimitri and his crew are currently making sure that the ships are seaworthy again, and the guardsmen are training with Harald and Felix.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Edmund shrugged. ¡°Just expected a bigger crowd.¡± A whistle then interrupted the group¡¯s conversation, followed by a man¡¯s shout.

    ¡°Ship¡¯s departing in five, boys! Hurry and get on while you can!¡±

    Edmund sighed, his hand picking up his rucksack of supplies. Miles followed his movements, the ex-follower waving to the shaman and dwarf as he walked off.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back when the next interesting thing happens!¡± Miles shouted before he boarded the merchant ship. Edmund seemed to hesitate for a moment, but he soon followed Miles, his hand waving back at Dahlia.

    ¡°It was quite a trip running with you guys. Strangely, I think I¡¯ll miss it,¡± the young man admitted.

    The two men boarded the ship, which soon started its departure. Edmund waved from the rear of the vessel, with Miles boredly looking out at sea as the young man waved farewell.

    ¡°I wish you all good luck in keeping safe! I won¡¯t forget you and James!¡± Edmund called out.

    Dahlia waved back, a small smile on her face, as she watched the ship slowly drift out into the sea. It wouldn¡¯t take long before the young man was no longer visible, and the ship soon grew smaller before it eventually winked out over the horizon.

    ¡°You know you shouldn¡¯t be walking, right?¡± Dahlia muttered, raising an eyebrow as she looked down at Bjorn.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. The healer said I could move around,¡± the dwarf answered.

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure he meant you could only move around only a couple of meters. Not the distance from your home and the tavern.¡± The shaman suspiciously raised an eyebrow.

    Bjorn huffed at that, waving off the accusations as he walked off. ¡°I do not know what you¡¯re on about. All I know is that you¡¯re stressing me out, and I need to get to the pub to get myself a comforting drink.¡±

    Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but chuckle softly, her head shaking as she walked off to do her own thing. The tavern would soon be filled with the guardsmen, and she did not want to get a drink with people crowding around her and the bar. Instead, she headed to her hut, her boots scraping against the cold ground as she walked through Yorktown.

    She could see the newly restored buildings, a result of the townsfolk and newcomers working together to restore the town. There were even new buildings being added to the settlement, their purpose being to accommodate the recent additions to the populace. Also, the orcs Silas led. Despite their clear bias towards the brutes, the new council kept them around, as they had contributed to fighting Gryff and, therefore, were allies in a way.

    Dahlia soon made her way to a small building near the town center across from the tavern. Despite not entering, she could hear voices coming from inside.

    ¡°Hey! Stop moving!¡±

    ¡°I said I¡¯m fine! I¡¯ve rested enough!¡±

    ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t!¡±

    Then, the audible sound of something crashing came, and a third voice called out, ¡°Hey! Careful with those!¡±

    Dahlia sighed, shaking her head as she entered the building. She was met with the sight of the injured, which included Lilith, Archibald, some guardsmen, and Seamus and Lowe, as they held down a bandaged Helen.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to make your wounds worse!¡± Seamus shouted out, doing his best to keep the ex-marauder down. She didn¡¯t comply, however, as she quickly tried to sit up in her cot.

    ¡°It¡¯s been weeks since that fight. I¡¯m sure I¡ª¡± Helen winced, her bandaged hand quickly moving to her abdomen.

    ¡°Rest,¡± Seamus reiterated, forcing Helen back onto the bed.

    ¡°Seamus is right, Helen. Your wounds still need time to heal,¡± Dahlia spoke out, catching the attention of everyone in the infirmary. According to the local doctor, Helen had taken most of the damage during the battle. He had initially thought she was dead the moment he had come upon her, at least until she had spat at him. Helen was lucky to be alive.

    ¡°It¡¯s just frustrating. I¡¯ve been cooped up in here for weeks,¡± Helen groaned, laying back on her cot.

    ¡°Oh, shut it. You¡¯re not the only one trapped here,¡± Archibald called out in a nasal voice. Archibald had his nose bandaged and his arm slung. Another result of the battle. ¡°You think it¡¯s easy for me? I can¡¯t even breathe right!¡±

    Helen ignored the elf¡¯s complaints, her eyes focusing on Dahlia. ¡°How much longer until I¡¯m ready?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d give it another month. We¡¯re low on potions and medicine, so it¡¯ll be a rough time until we can procure some more,¡± Dahlia answered.

    Helen visibly gritted her teeth, her head laying back on her thin pillow. ¡°Fine,¡± she mumbled.

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit.¡± Seamus grinned, elbowing Helen as she annoyingly grunted.

    Dahlia turned her focus to Archibald and Lilith, who were placed side by side despite the elf¡¯s protests. He had apparently been uncomfortable with the berserker since she had weirded him out. Despite his complaints, there wasn¡¯t really anything Dahlia could do since there wasn¡¯t much space in the infirmary. As of now, Archibald will have to deal with the red-haired menace.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Dahlia asked the mercenary.

    ¡°Like shit. These beds itch like no other, and I have to deal with¡­ her.¡± Archibald eyed Lilith, who was peacefully napping nearby.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do. For now, you¡¯ll have to deal with your current living conditions.¡± Dahlia turned to Seamus, who was looking better than he had a week ago. The bruising on his face had gone down, and his injuries were now next to nil. He also seemed lively and a bit more outgoing than his anxious self from a couple of months ago.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡®I wonder what changed him?¡¯

    It could¡¯ve been Helen. Dahlia had heard about how the ex-marauder had sacrificed herself to ensure Seamus¡¯s survival. It could also be Lilith or Lowe, as both were linked to his past life, according to James.

    ¡®James¡­¡¯

    ¡°I have to get going,¡± Dahlia suddenly said, giving her farewells to the others before she left the infirmary.

    Dahlia made her way through the snowy path leading up to her hut, her eyes looking up at the purple and orange sky.

    ¡®I can¡¯t wait for Frost to be over with.¡¯

    She sighed, her mind wandering to last year, back when the town had celebrated the end of Frost with the Bloom Solstice Festival. She drooled at the thought of food and music, the lively event sure to ease her stress from these last months. Just as she was thinking about the festival¡¯s delicacies, her hut finally came into view.

    Dahlia hurried her way up the snowy path before she soon reached her hut¡¯s door, her security runes letting her in without question. She stepped into the cozy home, sighing in relief as warmth embraced her. The fire was still on, filling the large living space with its heat. As Dahlia prepared to take off her cloak, she suddenly realized that the cot on her left was empty, and the boots that sat by it were now gone.

    ¡®He¡¯s like a child, I swear.¡¯

    She headed back out, her boots crunching on the piling snow. Dahlia trekked out into the cold, her feet guiding her to the nearby mountain. She took the path that led to the small cave on its side, the same one where she had summoned the otherworldly man.

    Dahlia could still remember the ritual she had performed that night. It was one she had copied from her mentor¡¯s old journals, a specific ritual that summoned a low-ranking demon. The runes that required its summoning were said to rip the demon from its dimension, manifesting it into the real world and forcibly replacing its language with the summoner¡¯s preferred tongue.

    The young man¡¯s summoning was nothing like what the journal described it to be. There was no mist or grand sparks, not even a circle of demonic runes forming anywhere. What had happened was that the runes drawn around the pool of water had brightened and suddenly fizzled out, making the shaman believe she had failed. Until a blond man in strange clothing burst from the waters, his first words unrecognizable until they had suddenly transitioned to Azuran. Dahlia found it curious how he had transitioned without realizing it, never even knowing that he was speaking Azuran until the shaman had told him weeks back.

    ¡®Stranger and stranger.¡¯

    Dahlia smiled as she recalled how they met and how James had nearly tried to stab her out of fear.

    ¡®Good times.¡¯

    The icy wind blew past her during her small trek, almost discouraging her, but she pressed on nonetheless. It wasn¡¯t long until she was finally at the small mountain¡¯s cliff, the view of the setting sun distant on the horizon. Her eyes weren¡¯t focused on the beautiful sight; instead, they focused on the young man sitting on the cliff¡¯s edge.

    ¡°James,¡± she sighed, the blond man reacting with a jolt of surprise.

    ¡°Ah¡­ You came back earlier than I would¡¯ve thought,¡± James gave a nervous smile. ¡°I just needed to think. That¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but smile. The shaman moved to sit next to him, her feet hanging off the edge, not unlike James. ¡°Is watching the sunset part of your thinking process?¡±

    ¡°Not really. It¡¯s the quiet that does most of the work, actually.¡± James bit into a piece of rabbit jerky, something he had definitely taken from the shaman¡¯s food storage.

    Dahlia chuckled at his response, her eyes focusing on the young man¡¯s bandaged hand and forearm, which she had to change now and then. Not because blood stained the wraps but because James¡¯ arm had formed frost over them, wetting the white cloth.

    ¡°Does it still hurt? Your arm.¡±

    ¡°No. It¡¯s weird. I can still feel it and move it, but the cold is still there, and it still forms ice over it sometimes. Even Faust can¡¯t make out what it is¡­¡±

    ¡°Can I see it?¡± Dahlia asked, her morbid curiosity getting the better of her.

    James nodded at her request, his right hand slowly unwrapping his left. Before long, Dahlia could see bits of the black skin getting exposed before finally being fully unwrapped.

    It looked frostbitten, and its skin shriveled up in some places. Still, it moved around as if it were a normal hand, small bits of ice forming at the fingertips. Dahlia cautiously touched the hand, feeling how cold it was.

    ¡°Unbelievable. There¡¯s some magic in there, but I¡¯m not sure what to make of it.¡± She pulled her fingers back, feeling how numb they had gotten. There was even a small layer of frost over her palm. ¡°If I had to guess¡­ When Gryff used his Deep Freeze on you, right when your minds were clashing, I think his affinity to cryomancy passed onto you.¡± She frowned, hesitating with her theory. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure, but it looks like your hand can form ice out of nothing, just like a natural cryomancer.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s insane.¡± James looked down at his hand.

    Dahlia nodded. ¡°Still, it is just a theory. We have to test it out a bit more before we can get a grip on your abilities. After you fully recover, of course.¡±

    ¡°Oh c¡¯mon,¡± James groaned.

    ¡°Don¡¯t try that ¡®Oh c¡¯mon¡¯ stuff on me. You¡¯re getting rest, and that¡¯s final,¡± Dahlia ordered.

    James sighed, his hand wrapping his left as he looked out at the horizon.

    ¡°Can we at least watch the sunset?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Dahlia grinned a little at James, watching the young man smile back, his blue eyes glancing at the evening¡¯s end.

    ¡°How are things below?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Edmund and Miles just left for Vindis not too long ago. Archibald and Helen are still recovering. Haggard seems like he¡¯s going to stay around. Brant is recovering, and Finn is¡­ well, it¡¯s complicated. As for the others¡­¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± James raised an eyebrow at the shaman, who shrugged.

    ¡°The orcs and people you saved on that island. They only want to answer to you,¡± Dahlia muttered. ¡°They refused to listen to the council and have formed their own little section in the restored part of town.¡±

    ¡°What? Why?¡± The young man furrowed his brow in confusion, looking down at the shaman in disbelief.

    ¡°James, they look up to you. Both the orcs and people. Ever since Gryff, they¡¯ve been wanting to follow only you. They even started their own little clan down there. I¡¯m sure you can guess what the name is,¡± Dahlia explained.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± James sighed in frustration, his fingers rubbing at his eyes.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t like it, you can always change the name. Or disband it,¡± the shaman suggested.

    ¡°I can¡¯t disband it. Those people will follow me regardless of what I think. Even if I stopped it, it¡¯d probably end ugly,¡± James murmured.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just¡­ Accept it, then? Take up the responsibility and lead them,¡± Dahlia shrugged.

    The blond man was silent for a moment, his blue eyes looking out at the sunset.

    ¡°Can I? Should I? Their lives would be in my hands. I doubt I can do it all on my own.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t be on your own.¡± Dahlia flashed a smile at James, which seemed to ease his stress a bit. ¡°You¡¯ll have me, Seamus, and Faust with you all the way. Not to mention Felix and everyone else in town.¡±

    Dahlia knew James could lead the people who followed and looked up to him. Ever since the Battle for Yorktown, people had developed a sense of respect for James, thanks to the survivors of the islands and his fight against Gryff. It was enough of an act that his exile was revoked, meaning the otherworldy man was finally home on the small island.

    ¡°I guess I could use the help,¡± James admitted.

    ¡°Good.¡± Dahlia smiled. That was one issue solved, but there was still more. ¡°There are still other problems,¡± the shaman started, earning a soft, tired groan from James.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Felix still thinks that the warriors who escaped will come back, possibly with their leader. I¡¯m unsure what clan they follow, but judging from the hawk insignia¡­¡±

    ¡°Nothing good,¡± James finished. ¡°Let¡¯s not forget the tribe of orcs we pissed off. The Lumen Kingdom those knights came from and those abominations from hel.¡± James¡¯ words sent a chill down Dahlia¡¯s spine, her mind wandering to that freakish, deformed bear back on that island.

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of enemies to make in the span of a couple of months,¡± she muttered.

    ¡°No kidding. Still¡­¡± James trailed off, his azure eyes glancing at the town below. It had grown in the last couple of months, all thanks to the otherworldly man and his group of oddball companions.

    ¡°We still have time until the next inevitable threat. Best we make the most of it,¡± Dahlia suggested. Yorktown was stronger, and the shaman had no doubts it would grow even more in strength in the upcoming months.

    Her words seemed to hang in the air for a moment. The young woman watching James took in their meaning. They were both silent for a moment before a white raven suddenly flew into view, the beautiful bird landing nearby. James turned to the small creature, watching as the raven pecked at a tiny insect before it gobbled it down with brief hesitation. The shaman focused on the white-feathered bird with fascination, watching as the raven curiously neared James with no visible fear or hesitation.

    ¡°A white raven. What a sight,¡± Dahlia murmured, her eyes fixated on the curious bird. ¡°The shaman who raised me cared for the ravens that flocked nearby. Always told me that white ravens were a sign of good luck.¡± She watched as James held out a small piece of jerky to the raven, who tilted its head before it snatched the piece of meat, gobbling it down.

    ¡°Funny. My mother loved ravens. She even called me her little Kvitravn,¡± James chuckled. ¡°Told me it means white raven.¡±

    Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but stifle a small laugh. ¡°Really? That¡¯s adorable!¡± She could see how James¡¯ cheeks turned into a bright red out of embarrassment. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s just¡­ That¡¯s a really sweet name,¡± Dahlia grinned at James, who laughed a little as he tossed the rest of the jerky to the white raven, who was now closer. It ate the rest of the dried meat, comfortably staying right next to the young man as it watched him with its curious blue eyes.

    ¡°You know, I might have an idea for what to name our little clan we started.¡± James looked down at Dahlia, who raised an eyebrow.

    She had a clue what the young man was thinking. ¡°Look at you, James Holter, already excited about the prospect of being a clan leader. Perhaps one day you shall be Jarl.¡±

    ¡°Jarl Holter. It has a ring to it,¡± James joked. Both of them then burst into laughter, both finding the idea of Jarl amusing.

    They both sat there for a while longer with the small raven, their laughs slowly dying out. Soon, they both ended up watching the sun sink below the horizon, the stars in the sky finally becoming visible. Dahlia looked up at the stars, sighing softly as she moved her hand to James¡¯. She gave his hand a small squeeze, a small smile appearing on her face as he squeezed back. She rested her head on his shoulder, sighing once more as she felt his warmth. Dahlia could stay there all night with no responsibilities and no memory of the dangers she had endured.

    ¡®What a perfect moment.¡¯

    Still, despite it all, those responsibilities and dangers still existed, and she knew it wouldn¡¯t be long until the temperatures of the night would soon start dropping. She shifted a little, moving to get comfortable with the blond man¡¯s body heat. She stopped, her eyes looking at James as he turned to her, a confused eyebrow raised.

    Dahlia opened her mouth to explain but felt¡­ wrong, ruining a perfect moment like this. The stars were twinkling in the partially cloudy night sky, James¡¯ azure eyes looking into her amber irises. They were absolutely still for what seemed like hours, their eyes locked onto each other. Soon, Dahlia could feel her body leaning forward, unable to stop herself as James leaned into her as well. She could feel her eyes close, not a single thought or word passing through her mind as her hands gently cupped the blond man¡¯s cheeks.

    The shaman kissed the man from Earth, their hands moving to pull each other closer and closer.

    For the first time in years, Dahlia felt a happiness she thought she¡¯d forgotten.

 B.2 Epilogue (End of Book Two)

    Deimos, the Red Death of the North, sat bored on his throne, his eyes looking upon the ambassador before him. He was a portly man, guided into the captured fortress by a squad of royal soldiers, specialists judging from the quality of their armor. Still, the sight barely entertained the marauder, especially since the other man¡¯s eyes darted around the throne room with a look comparable to a terrified rabbit.

    ¡°State your business,¡± Deimos called out, his brow furrowing as he stared down the pudgy ambassador.

    ¡°M-My name is Samson Gilder. I am an ambassador from the Lumen Kingdom, h-here to discuss terms with you.¡±

    ¡°Terms?¡± Deimos leaned forward, raising an eyebrow as he watched the ambassador fumble with his roll of parchment.

    ¡°The Lumen Kingdom will pay you a handsome sum if you agree to our t-terms,¡± Samson babbled, terrified.

    ¡°What are these terms, if I may ask?¡± Deimos stole a glance at Eli, the blind spellcaster nearing the door from which those Lumen assholes had entered through.

    ¡°We hope to convince you to cease attacks on our trading routes and settlements. With generous compensation, of course,¡± Samson hesitated momentarily before adding, ¡°We also hope you could solve a problem down south.¡±

    ¡°South?¡± the chieftain questioned.

    Samson flinched at the sudden question before realizing that Deimos¡¯ sudden change of tone was that of interest rather than anger.

    ¡°Y-Yes. South. We have reports that two of our Lumen Knights were killed by a very real threat over a month ago.¡±

    ¡°What do your reports say about the threat?¡± Deimos prodded.

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    Samson seemed to hesitate, his hands fumbling to put away his initial roll of parchment. ¡°These are classified reports¨C¡±

    ¡°Describe them,¡± Deimos interrupted. His words carried a sense of command. Even the royal soldiers seem at unease.

    Samson looked up at Deimos with a fear all too familiar to the marauder. The portly man nodded slowly, his lips quivering as he spoke out.

    ¡°From what we heard from the reports of southern clan warriors and imprisoned orcs, they say that a Draugr lurks around the southern islands. Still, these are just baseless rumors and stories from captured bandits and fleeing warriors. We¡¯re not entirely sure what it is¡­¡± Before Samson could ramble about the other reports, Deimos waved off the ambassador.

    ¡°I will consider your offer, Samson,¡± Deimos called out, gesturing for his men to come. ¡°These fine men will guide you back to your ship.¡± Samson seemed to protest but soon wisely decided that following Deimos¡¯ words was for the best.

    As the royal soldiers and ambassador left with the marauders, Eli turned back to Deimos, the blinded spellcaster looking straight at the Red Death despite his red blindfold. The marauder gave a silent nod to the young man, who grinned in response as he followed behind. Eli would send the ambassador off with a very special message for his superiors.

    Soon, Deimos found himself alone in his throne room, the dimly lit room filled with silence. He chuckled, a grin appearing on his lips.

    ¡®It is him. I am sure of it.¡¯

    Deimos had no other evidence correlating his theory, but his gut told him that this ¡®Draugr¡¯ was the same young man he had spared around the Frost solstice. The same young man who emanated with a strange and dangerous aura. The same young man who had defied the odds and death itself. He could still remember their conversation from that fateful day.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°Well, James Holter¡­ I¡¯ll let you live for now. I¡¯ll even leave you the ship my worthless marauders came here on. But remember this.¡± Deimos turned to look at James for the last time. ¡°We will meet again, whether it be on the battlefield or on a raid. We will meet. I hope by then that you¡¯ll put up a good fight.¡±

    Just as Deimos walked off with his marauders, James had yelled out to him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll make sure it¡¯ll be your last fight, Deimos! You can count on it!¡±

    </blockquote>

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m counting on it. James Holter¡± Deimos grinned. He rested his head against his crude throne as he stroked his beard.¡°I¡¯m counting on it.¡±

 B.2 Bonus Chapter

    Nine-year-old Seamus struggled weakly, spitting out the dirt in his mouth as he tried to escape Patrick¡¯s grip. Unfortunately, the older child, now a teenager, was much stronger than him. He was overpowering Seamus, forcing his knee onto the young child¡¯s back.

    ¡°Fight back Halvorson!¡± The older kid exclaimed, laughing as he pressed Seamus¡¯ face against the grassy ground. ¡°Here. I¡¯ll make it easier!¡± Patrick picked up Seamus without warning, the act disorienting him. The teenager called over the other two kids nearby, both of whom had been watching.

    Before Seamus could even try to run, they already restrained him.

    ¡°Please¡­ Stop¡­¡± Seamus begged. ¡°I don¡¯t want to¨C!¡±

    Patrick punched Seamus in his stomach, causing the child to cough out in pain, which caused spit to fly out of his mouth and onto Patrick. The bully wiped his face in disgust before punching Seamus again.

    ¡°Famed son of Yorn my ass!¡± He shouted, kneeing Seamus. ¡°You were probably adopted, or maybe your mom bedded a peasant,¡± Patrick laughed. ¡°Like some whore.¡±

    Seamus felt his anger boil at the insult, his arms gaining strength as he broke free of the other kid¡¯s grasp.

    ¡°Take it back!¡± He shouted, moving forward at Patrick. The bully threw a punch, but Seamus dodged it without thinking, his balled-up fist hitting the teenager in the gut. Patrick gasped at the sudden hit before Seamus¡¯ punch struck his jawbone. The teenager dropped onto the ground like a sack of potatoes, his wheezing confirming that Seamus had hit a weak point. Seamus didn¡¯t stop there, however. He climbed on top of Patrick, his weight pinning the older kid down.

    Seamus wailed at him, his fists pummeling Patrick¡¯s face and chest.

    ¡°Take it back!¡± he screamed at the teenager before he was pulled off by the other two kids from earlier. Seamus¡¯ common sense kicked in at this point. He tried to run for it but was caught shortly after his attempted retreat. He had no chance against both kids as they punched and kicked at him before Patrick joined, nose and lip bloodied from Seamus¡¯ attacks. Seamus curled into a ball, feeling every hit make contact with his body.

    It went on for a while before someone shouted out to them, ¡°Hey! Get away from him!¡± That seemed to do it. Seamus felt the hits stop, followed by the sound of cursing and running footsteps.

    There was silence for a moment before calm footsteps sounded out nearby. The beaten boy opened one eye. He focused on a single figure recognizable from the short sword on his back.

    ¡°Roger?¡± He asked, before uncurling from his ball.

    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s me, kid,¡± the man answered, extending a hand to Seamus. The young child accepted the hand, his other hand wiping away the tears that had formed in his eyes. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Roger asked as he patted down Seamus¡¯ clothes of any dirt. Seamus nodded, sniffling as he tried to act as if it was nothing.

    ¡°He¡¯s fine, Roger, ¡°a deeper voice said. A large shadow cast onto little Seamus. The young child looked up at the towering man who was his father, his broad figure obscured by a large fur cloak, a trophy that had been taken off of a bear. The distant fortress walls made Yorn look like a statue, intimidating and profound.

    ¡°Seamus,¡± his father said, his deep voice making the young child tense up. ¡°Did you fight back?¡±

    Seamus nodded at his father¡¯s question.

    ¡°Did you make him bleed?¡± His father asked, to Roger¡¯s dismay.

    ¡°My Lord, you¨C¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± Seamus interrupted, answering his father honestly. The entire altercation had started when Patrick teased Seamus to his breaking point, which devolved into the pathetic fight that had recently occurred. Yorn moved to take a knee, his dark eyes looking down at Seamus. Despite lowering himself, Yorn still towered over his son, his shadow casting over the child like a tree¡¯s shade.

    ¡°Hm,¡± the man murmured, stroking his black braided beard. ¡°You fought back, drew blood, yet ran off as soon as they started to team up on you.¡± Yorn shook his head, scowling.

    ¡°What?¡± Seamus reacted, unsure if he had heard his father right. ¡°What was I supposed to do?¡± He asked, confused.

    His father looked down at Seamus with cold, disappointed eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t be a coward,¡± he growled before standing up. ¡°Even if the odds are stacked against them, a Halvorson doesn¡¯t run from a fight. We finish them, whether it kills us or not. To do otherwise is cowardice.¡± Yorn turned his back, heading off toward the fortress¡¯ harbor. The man stopped, still looking off to the walls, before calling out,

    ¡°Roger, get Seamus outfitted. I will take him with me on my next trip to Aldren. Cancel any training sessions scheduled for the next couple of weeks.¡±

    ¡°Yes, my Jarl,¡± Roger answered obediently. Yorn gave an approving nod before heading off, leaving Seamus to watch him as Roger sighed. ¡°Your father means well, Seamus. Do not take anything he says as malice.¡± He tugged at Seamus¡¯ arm. ¡°Let us go and get you ready for your father¡¯s trip.¡±

    <hr>

    Seamus felt the spray of ocean water speckle across his face and open book, some of it getting into his mouth.

    ¡°Ugh!¡± he sputtered, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as the longship rocked, his book falling onto the deck. Seamus sighed, reaching to grab the closed book. It was a gift from his mother, who had given it to him for his long strip to Aldren. Seamus had been thoroughly reading the book, which was about the Era of Restoration and its influences.

    ¡°Seamus!¡± Warrior Fendal called, his hands working the ropes as his blond hair swayed in the salty breeze. ¡°Get off that book! Enjoy the open sea and fresh air! It is an experience, unlike any piece of parchment!¡± The warrior grinned at Seamus, not minding the salty water as it sprayed onto him.

    ¡°Fendal,¡± Yorn spoke from the longship¡¯s rear. He stood upright as he held onto the back tail of the vessel. ¡°Focus on keeping those sails in the wind and leave my son be, even if you do have a point.¡±

    Seamus sighed once more, using his cloak to protect himself from the sea¡¯s spray as he opened his book. However, as Seamus was looking for his lost spot, a large hand grabbed at the book, closing it up as it took it away.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Seamus exclaimed, looking up at his father as the man pocketed the book.

    ¡°You will get this at the end of the trip. For now, I want you to experience your surroundings.¡±

    Seamus frowned but didn¡¯t dare argue as he sat back down. He assigned himself to watch the black waves of the sea as the longship rocked. The child witnessed as the longship crashed against the waves, cold specks of saltwater hitting him.

    ¡°Ahead!¡± A man shouted, catching Seamus¡¯s and his father¡¯s attention. There was a huge storm ahead, dark clouds permeating the sky as they rolled closer to the longship. The young child looked back to his father, who had no reaction to the storm.

    ¡°Catch the wind and head straight through,¡± Yorn simply called out, the men on the longship following his orders as they shifted the sail to catch the salty wind.

    ¡°What? There¡¯s a storm ahead!¡± Seamus pointed out, seeing nothing but tall waves and lightning deep into the storm. Yorn didn¡¯t notice or care as he pulled on his cloak¡¯s hood. The young son realized that none of the men seemed affected as they continued on their work.

    Little Seamus watched as their longship approached the storm, his hands gripping tightly onto the rail to his right. He felt the deck below him lurch as rough waves rocked the longship. Seamus closed his eyes as they entered the storm, feeling the cold drops of rain hitting his face. Suddenly, he was showered in warmth. Seamus opened one eye, confused, as he saw a partially cloudy sky, the sun shining through them. He looked back, seeing the storm behind them now, its rolling waves and lightning shimmering.

    ¡°What?¡± The child asked, confused.

    ¡°It¡¯s an illusory trick. Courtesy of Wizard Falrick,¡± Yorn explained. ¡°Every month, he sets it up around here to keep out any unwanted intruders.¡± His father pulled back the hood on his cloak, exposing his swept-back black hair with hints of gray.

    ¡°Keep out what?¡± Little Seamus couldn¡¯t help but ask. Yorn didn¡¯t answer, instead opting to point ahead. The child looked to where he was pointing, noticing the island ahead. It was lush and full of life, the trees greener than the ones back home at the fortress. ¡°Aldren¡­¡± Seamus recalled what his father had said back home.

    Soon, the longship would dock at the island¡¯s port, with Yorn, Seamus, and warrior Fendal the only ones heading out. Seamus got his book back but didn¡¯t want to read it just yet. His eyes focused on the dense forest ahead, where snow was visible among the green grass.

    ¡°Bloom arrived early, aye?¡± Fendal commented as he admired the green and snowy forest with Seamus. The child nodded, keeping his book to his chest as he turned back to his father, who swiftly moved to the forest ahead.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t there a town here?¡± The curious child asked, hurrying to keep up with his father¡¯s long strides.

    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s much further inland,¡± Yorn replied simply, keeping his eyes forward as warrior Fendal walked alongside them both.

    ¡°You¡¯ll like it, Seamus,¡± Fendal spoke up. ¡°It¡¯s a town full of your father¡¯s best artisans and minds. They¡¯re good people and won¡¯t give you trouble.¡± Fendal gave the nervous Seamus an assuring smile, calming the child¡¯s nerves.

    They walked through the forest, their canopies and leaves green despite the snow. There were even birds chirping, their songs sounding out throughout the snowy greenery. After some more walking, Seamus could see the telltale smokestack of a blacksmith¡¯s forge in the sky and other smaller ones. The town soon came to view, small but impressive to the child nonetheless. It was cozy, with small wooden cabins and brick homes strewn about. There weren¡¯t even any walls, making it feel much more open and free.

    Seamus watched as gnomes and humans walked around the small cobbled paths, all of them smiling and greeting each other as they headed off. Some of them saw Yorn and saluted their group, putting a fist to their heart as a greeting, while some gave a small bow to Seamus¡¯ father. The child waved back at them, watching the townspeople go about their normal day. Seamus caught himself looking at the forge in the center of town, a couple of grime-covered humans and dwarves working around it.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Seamus, stay close,¡± Yorn said, catching the child¡¯s attention. Seamus obeyed and stuck close to Yorn and Fendal, following them as they headed off to the other side of town, where a small hovel awaited them at the edge of the forest. Yorn knocked once on the shoddy door, waiting a few seconds before knocking again. Some clamoring was on the other side before the door opened, and a middle-aged man was on the other side. He was a gnome, a little taller than Seamus, and looked exhausted. Still, he perked up at the sight of Yorn.

    ¡°Oh, thank Horus. Come in.¡± The gnome stepped aside to gesture towards his home. Yorn didn¡¯t budge.

    ¡°I want you to show me,¡± he said simply.

    ¡°No tea, I presume?¡± The gnome sighed, rubbing his eyes as he stepped out. ¡°Never one for subtlety,¡± he commented.

    ¡°Just show me where it happened,¡± Yorn clarified. ¡°I came here for one reason, Lowe.¡±

    The gnome nodded, waving a hand dismissively as he walked off to a nearby dirt path. Yorn and his group followed, despite Seamus not having a clue why they were there.

    ¡°It happened last month,¡± Lowe spoke as they walked, leading the group east of the small town. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, that wizard needs to step up with his illusions. They won¡¯t fall for that storm trick any longer.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can with what I have. It isn¡¯t easy for Falrick to keep the illusion up every once in a while,¡± Yorn responded. Seamus decided to tune their talking out, focusing instead on the trees nearby, his eyes scanning the greenery as he followed his father closely. The child then spotted what looked like movement in the forest but couldn¡¯t make it out quite clearly.

    ¡®A wolf? Bear?¡¯ He wondered before suddenly bumping into his father.

    Seamus looked to see that his father had stopped, his eyes focused on something ahead. Seamus peeked out, his eyes widening. They were now at what looked like another port, accompanied by its own town. The only difference, however, was that this town wasn¡¯t full of life like the one back in the center of the island.

    This town was but ash, with charred buildings and unrecognizable lumps littering the dark ground. The child stared at the horrific sight, hypnotized by it all. He looked up to his father, wondering if the man would comfort him, just like his mother would whenever Seamus got upset. Instead, Yorn scowled, his fist clenching. Even Fendal looked shocked.

    ¡°What kind of monster would do this?¡± The young warrior asked.

    ¡°Barbarians, that¡¯s who,¡± the gnome muttered. ¡°They found a way through the barrier. Let¡¯s be thankful that we managed to drive them off. This could¡¯ve been a lot worse.¡±

    ¡°I fucking hate this war,¡± Yorn growled. ¡°How did they get this far up north? They should¡¯ve passed by seven different outposts by this point.¡±

    ¡°I think they¡¯re traveling through the Abyssal Sea, not unlike the orcs,¡± Lowe suggested. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be far-fetched. Even Redyr¡¯s Frue is reporting attacks in her territory.¡±

    ¡°Dammit. That will make it much harder to find them,¡± Fendal muttered.

    Lowe nodded in agreement. ¡°They haven¡¯t returned yet, thankfully, but I worry they might soon.¡± The gnome looked to Yorn, who shook his head.

    ¡°We¡¯ll send in ships to guard the island. But do not worry much longer, my friend. We¡¯ll hunt those bastards down, even after this war is done.¡± Yorn sighed, shaking his head as he surveyed the burnt town. ¡°How many dead?¡± He asked.

    Lowe was silent for a moment before finally answering. ¡°Everyone. Even Greta and her husband. We found one of their sons dead near the forest, an arrow in his throat. The body of their daughter couldn¡¯t be identified because¡­¡±

    Lowe hesitated, a look of grief on his face.

    ¡°Burnt bodies are never easy to recognize.¡±

    Yorn visibly seemed to tense up, his fist clenching hard before it soon loosened. ¡°Fendal, you and Lowe will try to identify the rest of the bodies. Perhaps we can give their families closure.¡± He turned to Seamus. ¡°My son and I will go and check on the vault.¡±

    Fendal nodded, moving with the gnome as they headed towards the way back to Aldren.

    ¡°Come, Seamus, we¡¯ve seen enough of this,¡± Yorn called to the child, who nodded as he forced his sight away from the town. Seamus felt sick to his stomach, his hands shaking as they gripped his book tightly. He wanted to vomit, to cry, yet he couldn¡¯t do so. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was out of shock or the fear that his father might see him as a weakling. Either way, he kept his head high as he followed Yorn.

    Both father and son headed off to a different path nearby, which led them through the forest. The sounds of birds caught the child¡¯s attention, and his eyes moved to find the source as they walked. Again, Seamus could see something in the distance move, as if trying to hide from them. The boy looked up to his father, who didn¡¯t seem to acknowledge it.

    ¡®Perhaps it is an animal¡­¡¯ Seamus concluded as father and son emerged from the forest and onto the nearby shores.

    The black waves of the sea washed over the gravel, bordering the treeline with the vast ocean, a sight not uncommon throughout Valenfrost¡¯s many islands. Seamus kept close to his father, who said nothing as they walked. The child wondered about the town and what had happened. The sight of the burnt buildings was haunting, reminding the child that the world was a cruel and dangerous place. He looked up to his father, who kept his strict, cold facade. The child had seen his father¡¯s demeanor falter when the gnome mentioned what had happened to his Aunt Greta.

    Seamus himself couldn¡¯t believe that the woman who had given him his first cloak was gone for good, along with his Uncle Derwin and cousins. He could now see why he hadn¡¯t seen them in so long, especially with the nature of this hidden island.

    ¡®Why were they here?¡¯

    Seamus couldn¡¯t help but wonder. He wanted to ask his father, but he had long ago learned that such questions were worthless to the man since Yorn had told the child to save his questions for his instructors and mother.

    As Seamus was questioning whether or not to mention this to Mother, Yorn suddenly stopped. His father held out a hand to keep Seamus back, his head tilting to the forest nearby. The man scowled as he looked around before it was replaced by a small grin.

    ¡°Come out! I know you¡¯re trying to ambush me,¡± he called out. Seamus looked at his father as if he was insane.

    ¡®What is he doing?¡¯

    Before he could question further, Seamus could hear the sound of something rustling in the woods. He turned to see something move from the treeline. Five figures emerged from the bushes and trees, their hands carrying maces and curved swords. They wore baggy foreign clothes underneath strange scale-like armor. There were even a couple that wore no armor, showing off their pale bare torsos that were covered in green paint.

    The most heavily armored one, the one who seemed to be the leader, stepped up, speaking to his men in a strange language. Seamus felt terrified, clutching his father¡¯s cloak as he watched the men. His father, on the other hand, didn¡¯t seem scared. Instead, he was smiling as he stepped up to the men.

    ¡°Are you the ones responsible for what happened to my town? To MY people?¡± Yorn called out loudly. Seamus could feel the vitriol laced in his voice.

    The leader of the barbarians grinned under his dirty beard, his helmet obscuring most of his face. ¡°So you are Yorn?¡± He asked in a thick accent, pronouncing the words all wrong. ¡°The Terror of Valenfrost?¡±

    Yorn gently pushed Seamus away, stepping up even closer to the barbarians. The child watched as his father was slowly surrounded by the men, all of them with their hands on their swords and maces. Seamus clutched at his book tighter, watching in suspense.

    ¡°Well dunghead?¡± The leader asked, stepping closer to Yorn as he pointed his finger. ¡°Are you the¨C¡± There was suddenly a flash of steel and crimson, and the young child¡¯s father was now closer to the other man. The child blinked at the sight. The leader, also dumbfounded, looked down at his hand. There was a red stump instead of his intact fingers and wrist, dark blood fountaining from the wound.

    Dark red blood soon started to pool around the man¡¯s dirty beard. The barbarian clutched at his throat, falling to the ground without another word. Yorn looked at the rest of the men, sighing as he dropped the other man¡¯s sword, which he had somehow taken without anyone noticing.

    ¡°Too weak,¡± Yorn muttered. ¡°But you will do.¡±

    Two of the barbarians snapped out of their daze before they rushed at Yorn with their maces.

    Father dodged the attacks with ease. He kicked the first of them away before dodging a mace swing from the second one. He grabbed at the attacker¡¯s arm before he broke it with a quick elbow strike, which brought out a pained scream as bloody bone stuck out. A third barbarian tried to come in, but Yorn easily dodged the man¡¯s downward sword swing. Yorn raised his foot and stomped on the barbarian¡¯s hand, bringing him down and pinning him.

    Without missing a beat, Yorn grabbed both sides of the barbarian¡¯s steel helm and crushed it inwards. Flesh and bone crunched beneath the warped steel, the visceral visual and noise cementing into Seamus¡¯ young mind. The first barbarian who was kicked away came back, swinging his mace at father.

    Yorn saw this and countered by catching the mace¡¯s head with an armored gauntlet. With little to no effort, he pulled the man¡¯s mace towards him, causing the terrified attacker to jerk forward. The barbarian¡¯s throat was soon unceremoniously gripped onto and crushed, bringing out a surprised gurgle of death. Yorn pulled and ripped a piece of bloody flesh before he dropped it onto the shore.

    As Seamus watched, he noticed how hesitant the last man was, his hands shaking as he contemplated his options. The barbarian blinked, an idea forming in his mind as he noticed the child watching him. Seamus¡¯ stomach turned upside down at the sight of the barbarian¡¯s sick grin.

    ¡°Father!¡± Seamus cried, trying to back away as the crazed man swung his sword at the young child. Seamus raised his book, feeling the sharp end of the sword slash at its cover. The child fell onto the ground, looking up fearfully as the barbarian raised his curved sword.

    An ax¡¯s edge suddenly made contact with the man¡¯s neck, burying itself halfway through. The barbarian¡¯s eyes widened as he stumbled around before a hand grabbed at the ax¡¯s handle. As it was being pulled back, a foot raised and kicked the body away, ripping the weapon free. Fendal stood there in place of the dead man, exhausted as sweat covered his forehead.

    ¡°Seamus!¡± The warrior exclaimed, panting as he looked down at the child. ¡°Are you alright? I heard the fighting when I came back with Lowe.¡± He extended his hand to Seamus, who accepted it without a second thought.

    ¡°Father?¡± Seamus asked, his gaze looking for Yorn.

    The boy¡¯s father was currently cleaning his hands, wiping the blood onto one of the dead bodies of the barbarians, not a single emotion on his stern face.

    ¡°Good work on saving Seamus, Fendal,¡± Yorn simply said, walking to the last of the barbarians he took care of while Seamus was compromised. The survivor¡¯s arm was useless as he tried to grab a weapon. It was clear that Yorn deliberately let him live.

    Fendal frowned. ¡°With all due respect, sir, you should really look after your son. He was almost killed!¡± The warrior pointed to the dead barbarian. Yorn shook his head as he stepped on the barbarian¡¯s leg, pinning him down as the man tried to escape.

    ¡°He is my blood. He should be able to take care of himself,¡± Yorn simply said before he grabbed the hair of the dirty prisoner, dragging him off as he headed down the shore. ¡°Take Seamus back to the longship and wait there. I have some questions for this filth.¡± Yorn gestured at Lowe, who had clearly followed Fendal back here. The gnome nodded and followed behind Yorn as the man walked off with their struggling prisoner. Both men left both Fendal and Seamus

    ¡°Let¡¯s go, Seamus,¡± Fendal said as he headed into the forest. Seamus followed Fendal back onto the dirt path, staying quiet. Seamus shivered at the memory of his near-death experience. The blood and grisly fight he had witnessed was permanently scarred in his head. The child had never seen such violence. He shut his eyes, trying to focus on anything. He eventually looked down at his now torn book, which had saved him. While there were only a couple of pages ruined, Seamus was devastated.

    ¡®Mother is going to be upset¡­¡¯

    He frowned, sighing as he clutched the book close to his chest. He could still feel his heart beat like crazy, his eyes scanning the trees nearby as he followed Fendal closely.

    Some movement caught his attention, making Seamus jump as he heard the sound of leaves rustling from the wind.

    ¡°Do not worry, Seamus. As long as I¡¯m here, nothing can hurt you.¡± Fendal stated, giving Seamus a reassuring smile.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Seamus muttered quietly, staring at the forest once more, where he could¡¯ve sworn he had seen a strange animal far in the distance.

    ¡°Are there any creatures with red fur?¡± The child asked after some time. Fendal took a couple seconds to answer.

    ¡°Some exist, like foxes, but I never saw one in Valenfrost. Why?¡±

    Seamus shrugged. ¡°No reason,¡± he answered as he focused on ahead. Seamus could¡¯ve sworn he had seen a glimpse of what looked like red hair but decided that he was simply seeing things, as Fendal had said himself. There were no such creatures in Valenfrost.

 B.3 Prologue: Seven-Pointed Sun

    The Wizard known as Alfred sat back in his chair in the appointed council room. His fellow council members all sat around the circular room, a seven-pointed sun on the ground pointing at each of the members. At the head of the council, one of the more important men here was the king¡¯s advisor. Alistair Cromble, the man representing King Gareth, sat back in his chair. His dark purple eyes were focused on the report the Wizard and his men had prepared for the council.

    Everyone in this room already knew what it described since Alistair had just finished reading the report aloud. Everyone had been silent during and after the reading, their faces grim as they looked upon the painted sun on the ground, which should¡¯ve been lit by the lively daylight. Now, the clouds above Lumen City snuffed Delphine¡¯s holy light in the sky, threatening to pour rain upon the holy building and its skylight. It was fitting, in a way. The report itself was the farthest thing away from good news.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s mercy,¡± an elven woman muttered from her side of the chamber, her gaze downcast. With the silence broken, another spoke up, an elderly priest devoted to Delphine¡¯s church.

    ¡°Quite,¡± he agreed. ¡°This is¡­ problematic at best.¡±

    ¡°And downright apocalyptic at worst!¡± A man in armor shouted out, his gauntlets slamming on the table ring that circled the chamber. ¡°Two Lumen Knights dead and a ley line fracture the size of a continent?! This calls for a war against those Valenfrost savages!¡± The armored man¡¯s shouts gained a couple of voiced agreements whilst also receiving a few verbal backlashes.

    ¡°Are you stupid?¡± Alfred called out. ¡°Starting another war is the farthest thing we need right now! It¡¯s already enough that we¡¯re facing a barbaric insurrection in the Southlands. Not to mention the abominable creatures that Lumen Knight Gryff had described in his report. War will only worsen things!¡±

    ¡°Then do you have a better idea?! Or do you suggest sitting on our asses while those animals continue to¨C!¡±

    ¡°Silence!¡± a loud but strangely calm voice called out. Everyone turned to Alistair, who sighed as he folded the parchment. ¡°We are not here to discuss rules of engagement. We have already done that a month ago when Wizard Alfred came to me with this report.¡± Alfred perked up at his name before focusing on the piece of burnt parchment in Alistair¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Even though the two knights lost weren¡¯t considerably strong, their deaths are more than worrying.¡± The advisor shifted in his seat, leaning back as he cupped his chin. ¡°Reading the reports, there is no doubt in my mind that we are dealing with a dangerous threat, one that¡¯s possibly more menacing than the Red Death himself.¡± Everyone murmured their agreement as they had read the detailed report on this ¡®Frost Disease¡¯ as Gryff Brenwick had named it.

    ¡°There will be no war. No show of force. We won¡¯t even alert the inquisitors,¡± Alistair continued. ¡°Not yet, anyway. What we will do is send in someone with experience on those islands. Someone that came recommended to me by Alfred.¡±

    ¡°Ah yes, her. The elf,¡± the armored man grumbled. ¡°She abandoned Delphine¡¯s light decades ago, did she not? Why are we bringing her into this?¡±

    ¡°Judging from what Alfred has told me, she has decades of knowledge about Azurvale and Valenfrost because of the travels she embarked on after she departed from House Kord,¡± Alistair explained.

    ¡°Do we not have any people who know those islands? Can¡¯t we hire a tracker or something? A bounty hunter, perhaps?¡± the elf woman from before asked.

    ¡°Bounty hunters are being considered,¡± a portly man chimed in. ¡°But I doubt they are to be trusted with information like this. It is hard to rely on men who care only for gold. However, the elf Alfred had vouched for has a solid history of keeping her word and a fierce loyalty to those she works for.¡±

    ¡°What was her name? Gwendolyn Starling?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Gwenyth Sterling,¡± Alistair corrected. ¡°We¡¯ll be sending her into the islands undercover with a false story and identity. She will have a few specialists and hired swords accompanying her on her mission.

    The armored man seemed to frown at that, his doubtful eyes staring at the advisor. ¡°Hired sword? I thought we were refraining from sending in bounty hunters?¡±

    ¡°One hunter we chose has a good history with us, as he has done many missions for Delphine¡¯s church,¡± Alistair explained. ¡°The other one, however, is no ordinary hunter,¡± he revealed. ¡°He is the hunter. Eilif Norak.¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    The spoken name of the infamous hunter was enough to cause murmurs in the chambers, with the armored man speaking up first.

    ¡°Eilif? The immortal? Him?¡± He visibly shifted in his seat.

    ¡°I¡¯m not even sure he¡¯s fully human,¡± Alfred added. He had heard stories about the bounty collector, how he was presumably centuries old, just like those silver-haired elves of myth. Except he didn¡¯t have silver hair, nor was he an elf. Eilif Norak was a mystery, an enigma hidden behind brass goggles and a black mask.

    ¡°Are you sure about him?¡± Alfred asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± Alistair answered calmly, waving away the Wizard¡¯s question.

    With the murmurs dying down, the armored man from before spoke up once more.

    ¡°What is this mission, anyway? All we know from the report is this fracture¡¯s source and the perpetrator¡¯s description. Even then, Gryff Brenwick had omitted the names of the ones who had caused all of this.¡± That was painfully true since all Alfred and his fellow Wizards knew was that Yorktown was the start of all this and that the unnamed perpetrators responsible for his death were most likely the ones who caused the fracture.

    ¡°The mission,¡± Alistair started with a sigh. His unsettling purple orbs stared at the armored man with frustration, an obvious sign that the advisor¡¯s patience was running thin. ¡°Is to confirm the location of the source and the perpetrators. Once that¡¯s done, we will have Gwenyth and her allies summon a squad of knights and spellcasters to seal it properly. The details still need to be ironed out, but that is what she will do.¡± His explanation left a lot to be desired, an entire plethora of details being left out, but Alfred knew the advisor had his reasons to do so.

    ¡°I see,¡± the other man muttered, seemingly satisfied with the answer. There was a dead silence in the room of men and women, their eyes averted to the seven-pointed sun on the ground. Then, there was a loud knock at the huge double doors, the deafening sound echoing throughout the chamber.

    ¡°A thousand apologies, sirs and madams, but this is a matter that is most dire!¡± a muffled shout came from behind the door.

    Alistair sighed, his brow raising slightly. ¡°Come in,¡± he called out.

    Everyone turned to the big double doors across from Alistair¡¯s spot in the chamber, watching as they slowly opened. A man stepped in, his armor and red wax stamp signifying him as a Lumen Knight. Alfred watched as the door closed behind the knight, a box engraved with runes in his hold. He set it down in the center before he stood up straight. He saluted the council.

    ¡°Sirs and Madams! We¡¯ve got an update on the Samson Gilder situation!¡±

    Alfred could see how the knight¡¯s eyes wavered a bit at the box.

    ¡°What is in the box, knight?¡± Alistair asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. ¡°Better yet, where is Samson Gilder? We haven¡¯t heard from him since his mission to Yorn¡¯s old fort.¡±

    ¡°Sir, I think it is best to look at the box. The Marauders of the North sent it in. The runes are specifically enchanted in such a way that only a high-level Wizard could open it.¡±

    ¡°So you brought it here?!¡± the armored man from before shouted. ¡°What if those bastards rigged a Fireball rune in it?!¡±

    ¡°The diviners had already scried the box. They said that there wasn¡¯t any offensive magic enchanted inside. There aren¡¯t even spells or contraptions. They only said that there was a piece of parchment attached to something in there,¡± the knight explained.

    ¡°Parchment?¡± Alistair asked, beckoning the knight to come closer. The knight quickly picked up the box, heading over to Alistair¡¯s section. ¡°Alfred. Come here and open it.¡±

    The Wizard nodded and quickly headed his way to the strange box. He looked over the runes, which were impressively done.

    ¡®What kind of magic is this?¡¯

    Despite the Wizard not recognizing some of the glyphs, he was more than certain that he could Dispel them. He raised both of his wrinkled hands over the box, murmuring a bit before he chanted out,

    ¡°Dispel: Advanced.¡±

    Runes appeared above the box before quickly dissipating. The glyphs on the package died out, some of them fizzling from the effects of the Dispel. Alfred cautiously opened the box, hoping to Delphine that those diviners had done their scrying accurately and that a rigged crossbow hadn¡¯t avoided their sights.

    Thankfully, the box opened without a problem. Unfortunately, the Wizard was hit with a powerful smell, one that threatened to empty the contents of his stomach.

    ¡°Ugh!¡± He recoiled, covering his nose and mouth with the hem of his robes. He quickly glimpsed the box¡¯s contents, the sight of which made the elderly spellcaster stop dead in his tracks. He stared at the box, Alistair right beside him.

    The advisor had a much more subdued reaction, his eyes focusing on the contents of the box.

    ¡°Well, I am certain to say that our negotiations with the marauders of the north were unsuccessful,¡± he muttered.

    Alfred took another look, this time focusing on the bloody piece of parchment that was nailed to Samson Gilder¡¯s severed and mangled head. It simply read, in perfect calligraphy:

 B.3 Chapter 1: White Raven

    1

    Frost''s End

    <hr>

    James Holter stared upon the blue banner that hung from the restored Yorktown building, his eyebrow raised as he examined the sloppily painted white raven. It looked like someone had splattered white paint across the banner and called it a day. While the edges of the wings looked jagged and splattered, James couldn¡¯t mistake the painting for anything else but a white feathered bird, its beak open as if to sound out a cry. He had to give the artist some credit; at least, it slightly resembled a raven. James glanced at the orc, who was adjusting the banner, the creature grinning as he gestured toward his work of art.

    ¡°You like?¡± the orc asked, his proud smile almost innocent to a degree. Almost.

    ¡®I wonder if this is his first time painting this. I¡¯m pretty sure a kindergartener can do better.¡¯

    James sighed and nodded, giving the orc a thumbs up. ¡°Yes. I like.¡±

    Truth be told, he didn¡¯t want to hurt the poor oaf¡¯s feelings. Besides, this was one of many banners that were plastered around the area Aldren¡¯s refugees had set up. They didn¡¯t seem to mind the poorly done raven, so why should James?

    ¡®You¡¯re too soft,¡¯ Faust muttered, the Centurion spirit chuckling in the young man¡¯s head.

    ¡®Shut it. How do you know he won¡¯t go postal if I tell him it looks like a paint spill?¡¯ James shot back.

    ¡®Postal?¡¯ Faust retorted, obviously confused.

    ¡®Forget it,¡¯ James sighed. He was done explaining Earth references to Faust since the spirit had never really gotten a single one.

    The young man scratched at his chin with his left hand, which was wrapped in white bandages, a result of a past fight from months before. He blinked as he felt a sudden cold sting him, his eyes moving to see that the problematic hand had frosted his blond beard once more. The blond man sighed, brushing it off with his right.

    ¡°What is that?¡± a voice called out behind James. He turned to the source, smiling a bit to see Dahlia, the shaman. Her short hair swayed gently in the cool breeze, her poncho-like cloak reacting with the wind enough to lift and expose a glimpse of her warm-looking tunic and breeches. The shaman had a look of curiosity, a reaction that was all too common to the young man.

    ¡°It¡¯s the new symbol for the Holter clan, of course,¡± James revealed.

    ¡°Holter clan?¡± Dahlia chuckled. ¡°Aren¡¯t you being a little too egotistical?¡± she commented as she stepped up to the banner. ¡°I thought we agreed on White Raven?¡±

    James shrugged, his right hand brushing stray strands of blond hair from his brow. ¡°I thought Holter clan sounded nice.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm. Me no like Holter clan. Arscor like White Bird clan,¡± the orc commented.

    ¡°Whose side are you on?¡± James narrowed his eyes at the insubordinate, who grinned dumbly as he pointed at the banner.

    ¡°Banner represents white bird, no Holter,¡± the orc argued. ¡°We are all like bird, not like Holter,¡± he continued. James and Dahlia stared at the orc in dumbfounded silence, neither party saying a single word as the orc nodded its head before walking off to wherever he had come from.

    ¡°White Raven works for me,¡± James agreed finally, his eyes moving to the banner once more.

    ¡°Good. White Raven clan it is, then,¡± Dahlia grinned. ¡°How are you feeling, anyway? Any pain? Nausea? Vomiting?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± James answered, waving off the questions. ¡°It¡¯s been months since then, I¡¯m fully recovered,¡± He reassured the shaman.

    Dahlia raised an eyebrow before sighing in defeat.

    ¡°Fine. If you say so,¡± she muttered. Then, without warning, she stabbed James¡¯ abdomen with her index finger. James instantly winced from the sudden jab, his hand instinctively moving to cover his gut. Specifically, the spot where he had been stabbed with both a knife and a nasty Ice Lance spell months back.

    ¡°I knew it,¡± Dahlia said.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± James responded. ¡°It¡¯ll get better with time,¡± he added. Granted, he wasn¡¯t wrong.

    It had been four months since the incident with the Lumen Knights, his stab wound being the result of two scuffles ending with the young man catching a sharp object in his gut. After four months of potions, resting, and Faust¡¯s strange healing, James had miraculously healed up to almost perfect health. Almost. His healed abdomen still stung from time to time, especially during his grueling training sessions with Harald and the town guards. Still, James had already gotten used to it, as the pain was slowly wearing off day after day. Now, it rarely hurt. That is, if left undisturbed.

    ¡°Jabbing it every two days isn¡¯t going to heal it, you know,¡± James groaned.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Dahlia sighed. ¡°But I still don¡¯t like the fact that you¡¯re putting yourself through training throughout the healing process.¡±

    James raised an eyebrow. ¡°So you don¡¯t want me to train because it¡¯ll put too much strain on me. Yet you¡¯re the one who sneaks into my cot on those ¡®sleepless¡¯ nights,¡± he teased.

    Dahlia¡¯s lightish brown skin suddenly flushed darkly, her amber eyes widening a bit. ¡°That¡¯s not fair! The nights are very cold and¨C¡± She stopped herself, her head shaking. ¡°This is ridiculous to argue about.¡± She glanced to the side, avoiding any further eye contact. ¡°There was a reason I came here, you know. You still have errands to do.¡±

    Now it was James¡¯ turn to avoid eye contact, his face contorting into a grimace as he recalled the many errands he had that day. ¡°I was hoping you wouldn¡¯t mention them.¡±

    ¡°The town isn¡¯t going to restore itself, James. Not only that, but there¡¯s also that clan of people following you. Errands are normal,¡± Dahlia pointed out. James groaned but didn¡¯t argue. There was a reason Dahlia was his ¡®advisor,¡¯ or however she had put it. A clan leader, no matter how small the following, still had a duty to his people.

    ¡®I¡¯m never going to get used to calling them that,¡¯ James thought to himself.

    ¡®Well, you best get comfortable with it. I doubt it¡¯s going to change anytime soon,¡¯ Faust commented.

    ¡°How¡¯s your arm, by the way?¡± Dahlia asked. James blinked, his eyes moving to his left arm, which was wrapped in a fresh set of bandages. He raised it, his fingers moving around a bit before they clenched lightly.

    ¡°It¡¯s better than last month. It doesn¡¯t hurt to move, and I can feel everything again. Well, sort of, if you count out the never-ending cold.¡± While the frostbitten arm slowly regained its feeling throughout the months, James couldn¡¯t shake off that numb sensation it emanated. While not noticeable, there was always a numbing cold that plagued his blackened fingers. It had bothered James for a good while since not even the fireplace in Dahlia¡¯s hut could warm them up. Eventually, however, he had gotten more used to it as time went on.

    ¡°Not much we can do about that,¡± Dahlia muttered. She stepped up to James¡¯ clenched hand, her own moving to open up his fingers. She gently held his hand for a few seconds, her fingers pressing on James¡¯ bandaged palm. ¡°It¡¯s not as stiff or cold as last time. Maybe you are improving¡­¡± Dahlia trailed off, her eyes moving to meet James¡¯.

    Both of their eyes locked onto each other, the young woman blushing as she squeezed the bandaged hand. James could feel his own face heat up, his eyes breaking away from the glance. Dahlia did the same, her hand quickly dropping James¡¯ own.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Uh, so I¡¯ll get on those errands,¡± James muttered.

    ¡°Agreed. I¡¯ll go and let you do that,¡± Dahlia responded before she walked off, presumably to the infirmary.

    James sighed, his head shaking in defeat as he watched the shaman leave.

    ¡®Are relationships normally this complicated?¡¯ James vented out to Faust, who responded with a chuckle.

    ¡®This isn¡¯t a normal relationship. You should know this.¡¯

    James frowned at that response, his eyes moving to the white raven banner.

    ¡®Is any of this normal?¡¯ he asked.

    Faust didn¡¯t answer. The blond man sighed and walked off, away from the banner.

    James walked through the paths that intertwined throughout the settlement of Yorktown, which had grown these past months. He eyed the newly restored buildings, which resulted from the townspeople coming together to fix the damage left by the marauders that threatened the town back during the Frost solstice. His body ached with that memory, his thoughts recalling the fog that had engulfed the burning town.

    It had been a hellish scene, complete with the abomination that had lurked around the corner. James took a deep breath of the cold air, his head shaking away those memories. That day was far behind him, now irrelevant to the present. Yorktown was restored, and its people recovered from both the marauders and royal soldiers. Of course, the town wasn¡¯t the same as it was before, nor would it ever be. James stopped his walk, his eyes scanning the makeshift gate that separated the White Raven clan from the rest of the townsfolk.

    ¡°It still feels unreal,¡± he muttered to himself.

    ¡®You¡¯re not the only one with that thought,¡¯ the spirit agreed. James sighed, his right hand moving to sweep back his growing hair. It had lengthened these last five months since he had been in Valenfrost. James still wasn¡¯t sure if he wanted to cut it short or let it grow some more.

    ¡®Faust, do you¨C¡¯

    James suddenly stopped, his hand quickly moving to grab at his chest. He gritted his teeth, powering through the pain as it quickly passed through his chest and head. James breathed heavily, his vision blurring as he tried to keep his balance.

    ¡°Again?¡± he asked himself after a short while. His chest pain was gone, any remnants of it disappearing as fast as it had come.

    ¡®You should tell Dahlia about this,¡¯ Faust pointed out, the spirit¡¯s voice sounding just as distressed.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯ve been fine ever since,¡± James responded before his eyes widened. There was a metallic taste in his mouth, something that he hadn¡¯t experienced in months. He brought his fingers to his lips and held them out. James blinked at the sight of red.

    ¡°Later today. I¡¯ll tell her,¡± he muttered as he cleaned the blood from his hand. The chest pains were nothing new, as they resulted from his fight with the Lumen Knight known as Gryff. They had appeared out of nowhere with no real origin. No wounds, no blood, not even any lasting effects. Until now. This was beginning to worry James. He was now bleeding for no plausible reason aside from the sudden pain that had appeared in his chest.

    ¡°When I¡¯m done with my errands, I¡¯ll let her know,¡± James repeated. He wiped his mouth before he headed through the gate in front of him.

    <hr>

    Seamus awoke in blood. The sky above was a hellish red, its clouds tainted with the light of the blood moons. He slowly sat up, his wide green eyes looking at the surrounding aftermath. Blood surrounded the young man, ripples forming around his body as he stood on his knees. Bodies littered the environment, with arrows and broken spears stuck to them. A torn flag flapped in the wind, its bear paw symbol disgraced. Seamus looked down at his hands, which were dirty and covered in crimson. He swallowed and raised his head to the source of the light.

    Behind the young Halvorson was the fort he had grown up in. The place his father had proclaimed was untouchable. The same place his mother had described as an artful piece of architecture. The same place that the marauders had raided and set aflame. Seamus stared upon the flaming fort, his eyes drifting up to the clouds above. The two moons, Luna and Callisto, were there, shining their light on the scene. But instead of their usual bluish and heavenly glow, they were a blood red. Crimson moonlight bathed the fort, which only added to the hellish event. The entire scene proved too much for the young man, as his hands shook uncontrollably.

    ¡°You coward.¡±

    A soft voice called out, the young man¡¯s eyes widening as he gritted his teeth. He was the last of his clan, a coward who had run from his fate.

    ¡°Coward,¡± he managed out in a whisper. Seamus Halvorson slammed a shaking fist at the bloodied ground, his throat going hoarse as he screamed into the red night.

    Seamus Halvorson woke up in a frenzy, his forehead damped with sweat. His breathing was heavy, his lungs begging for cold air as his body overheated. Seamus kicked off his sweat-soaked blankets, controlling his breathing as he laid back on his bed. The nightmare was still fresh in his mind, its horrific images replaying in Seamus¡¯ head as he tried his best to forget. He took a couple more deep breaths, his head shaking as he stepped out of his bed. Seamus moved to slip on his pants and tunic despite his overheating body.

    His movement around the dark caught the attention of a nearby oaf, who groaned. ¡°Five more minutes,¡± the man grumbled.

    Seamus frowned, his eyebrow raised as he moved to grab his fur-lined boots. In doing so, his foot impacted with a discarded blacksmith¡¯s hammer, which caused the young man to curse out suddenly.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s ti¨C! Haggard!¡± Seamus hissed before he grimaced. He limped back to his cot, wincing as he squinted at the damned weapon that was left haphazardly on the ground.

    ¡°Caelus¡¯ balls! What do you want?¡± Haggard growled out, his head rising from the thick mountain of blankets he had made for himself the night before.

    ¡°Your hammer!¡± Seamus replied in a hostile tone. He massaged his hurting toe, which throbbed painfully.

    ¡°What about it?¡±

    ¡°I stubbed my foot against it. Stop leaving it out in the open! Same with your clothes. I keep mistaking them for mine since they end up near my bed,¡± Seamus sighed as he tossed a dirty tunic from his side. He grabbed at his boots, his hands carefully fitting one of them over his hurting foot. ¡°If we¡¯re going to share a living space, I¡¯d rather not have your dirty socks by my pillows.¡±

    ¡°Hmph,¡± Haggard only gave the young man a short, gruff dismissal, which annoyed Seamus.

    ¡°Are you even listening to me?¡±

    No response came from the drifter, which would have normally infuriated Seamus. However, the young man only sighed before he limped his way to the door. He passed by another cot on his way, this one occupied by a red-haired woman. She was sleeping soundly despite the small argument Seamus and Haggard were having. The mute berserker known as Lilith slept without a care in the world, her good arm holding her knees close to her chest. She slept curled up, which bothered Seamus. She had been a savage not too long ago, a homeless nomad on the island she had grown up on. It only made sense that Lilith preferred sleeping this way, as years out in the wild could have conditioned her to be this way. Seamus frowned at the thought before he grabbed his cloak.

    ¡®She¡¯s not out in the wilds anymore. She¡¯s safe here,¡¯ Seamus comfortably assured himself before he turned to leave.

    Seamus pushed against the wooden door that led outside, putting some strength into it as it resisted him. Cold air rushed into the home as Seamus stepped out. He quickly closed the door behind himself, sighing in relief as the chilly breeze swept past him. Seamus¡¯ cloak flapped in the wind, his heated body slowly cooling down. He looked up at the clouded gray sky, which had visible breaks in it. The blue sky was now visible through the breaks in the clouds, signifying to Seamus that Frost was soon coming to a close. Bloom was nearing, and with its transition came the unending rain.

    ¡®At least it won¡¯t be freezing cold. Rain during Frost usually ends up with iced streets and dead livestock. At least now the rain¡¯s only danger will be limited to slick streets and a wandering cold.¡¯

    Seamus glanced toward the surroundings. Yorktown was looking healthier by the day. The buildings that were once burnt and dilapidated now looked brand new. The entire village looked as if it was a recent settlement, with men walking the streets with lumber and supplies for rebuilding. Despite the months of work, Yorktown was far from completing the renovation. The newcomers, the ones from Aldren, were expanding the town into the nearby forest. Seamus had seen how eager the refugees were when it came to rebuilding, almost as if they were yearning for a second chance at life. A second chance that a certain otherworldly man had given them.

    The young Halvorson turned to the nearby banner, which displayed a white raven, its wings spread out as if to take flight. Despite looking sloppy and savage in a way, the depiction of the curious bird was almost elegant. Seamus smiled at the banner, a tinge of nostalgia coming over him. However, his smile soon faded once he saw the wall the blue banner rested upon. Aldren¡¯s former citizens weren¡¯t getting along with Yorktown¡¯s populace because the rest of the native townsfolk wanted to stick with a traditional council.

    Aldren¡¯s refugees had wanted a Jarl to rule over the island instead. It had stemmed from their loyalty to the Draugr, better known as James Holter. They had seen the strange man as a leader, a mythical being almost, that was capable of anything. Those orcs had proclaimed James as the Herald of Dremor, a god that ruled the underworld and commanded over the undead. Aldren¡¯s refugees had taken their word as truth since they had seen firsthand what James was capable of, both during the Fall of Aldren and the second Battle for Yorktown.

    ¡®A man who refused to die twice. A man who commanded a spirit from Helheim itself.¡¯

    Seamus recalled the rumors of what James was capable of. They ranged from commanding the dead to controlling dark magics beyond comprehension. Seamus chuckled aloud at the thought of such things. He knew James, for he really was. A tired man from another world who just happened to get himself into the worst situations possible.

    ¡°Ah, but they won¡¯t see him like that, will they?¡± Seamus muttered to himself. James was seen in a different light now. Since his fight with Knight Gryff, the blond man was no longer an enigma to those around him. All who lived in Yorktown now knew of his secrets, including his otherworldly status and Faust¡¯s presence in his body.

    Someone, somehow, had leaked them. Who did it was now irrelevant, as James¡¯ secrets were out in the open.

 B.3 Chapter 2: Errands

    Dahlia Astera sighed as she got away from the cold of Frost. She rested against the door of the infirmary, her eyes closed as she tried to will away the butterflies that wreaked havoc in her stomach.

    ¡®Are relationships usually this complicated?¡¯

    Dahlia wouldn¡¯t know. Her only relationship in the past was with a merchant boy whom she rarely thought of now and then. James was much different. He had a sort of dangerous attraction to him that Dahlia couldn¡¯t resist. Despite his awkwardness, James was strangely alluring. His words and otherworldly phrases were interesting and exciting. His entire demeanor was¨C

    ¡°Hey!¡± a snobby voice called out. Dahlia snapped out of her stupor, her eyes turning to one of the few men in the infirmary. He was an elf with swept back black hair. His face was gaunt, his eyes eternally cursed with tired bags and a bloodshot look. Yet he had an air of nobility around him, his chin raised as he spoke out once more.

    ¡°Are you done?¡± Archibald Yevin asked.

    ¡°Yeah yeah,¡± Dahlia muttered as she approached the elf. Archibald was a mercenary that James had hired back during the blond man¡¯s journey months back. The elf had proven useful in the hazardous journey and during the fight with the Lumen Knights. Archibald was even the reason Dahlia was alive. His outburst towards the end of the fight had saved the shaman from being stabbed by her own dagger. Unfortunately for the elf, he had suffered from a broken elbow and nose, which had caused uncontrollable bleeding. He would have drowned in his own blood if it weren¡¯t for the town¡¯s doctor coming in to save him.

    ¡°Am I all healed up yet? I cannot stand the stench of this place,¡± Archibald complained. Despite it all, the elf¡¯s attitude and demeanor hadn¡¯t faltered in even the slightest.

    ¡°It¡¯s an infirmary for sick and injured people. What did you expect?¡± Dahlia asked with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°I would think this town would have standards,¡± Archibald muttered as the shaman undid his arm sling and bandages. Dahlia gently massaged the elf¡¯s elbow, her eyes moving to see if Archibald was reacting.

    ¡°Any pain?¡± She asked while prodding his muscle and bone.

    ¡°None. Maybe a little soreness, but I¡¯m sure that¡¯s from having this sling on for months,¡± Archibald answered.

    Dahlia nodded, doing a couple more checks before deciding that the elf was fully healed. ¡°You¡¯re all fine for now. Just go easy on that arm,¡± she advised.

    ¡°Finally,¡± Archibald let out a breath of relief before he moved to grab at his nearby boots.

    ¡°Where will you go?¡± The shaman asked.

    ¡°Back to Vindis, of course. Back to the dirty streets and filthy taverns.¡± The elf shrugged.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have a home to go back to? Or is Vindis your home?¡± Dahlia raised an eyebrow.

    The elf paused at the question, his eyes averting to the ground. ¡°I have a home. I just can¡¯t go back to it yet,¡± he muttered a response before going back to changing into his warmer clothing. Dahlia watched the elf mercenary¡¯s snobby attitude falter, his normally pompous look now that of exhaustion and spite.

    ¡°If you like, you can still stay here in Yorktown. I¡¯m sure Bjorn would be glad to share his hovel with you, free of rent,¡± she offered.

    The elf made a face of clear hesitation. ¡°Eh. I¡¯ll think about it,¡± he responded before he tightened the laces around his boots. Archibald stood up, his hand moving to grab the rapier that hung in a sheath nearby. Delilah, as Archibald had named it, was a special blade that had enchanted runes engraved onto its silver edge. It was something that Dahlia never expected to see on a sword for hire. She didn¡¯t ask about it, since she knew the elf was too private about his past to ever reveal anything.

    Both the elf and the shaman eventually made their way out of the infirmary, where the cold Frost air hit them both.

    ¡°Gods, can¡¯t Bloom come in any faster?¡± Archibald hissed as he tightened his coat over his body. Dahlia shrugged, her eyes spotting a few townsfolk pushing along a cart of preserved food and alcohol.

    ¡°Well, the solstice is only a couple of weeks away. You don¡¯t have to wait too long until all this snow melts. Not only that, but the Bloom festival should be something to look forward to,¡± Dahlia grinned at that. She couldn¡¯t wait for the next week, to smell the cooked meat pies and to hear the wonderful music that accompanied the exciting commotion.

    ¡°Bloom festival? I¡¯ve heard stories of southern islands celebrating its solstice,¡± Archibald yawned. ¡°Never really experienced one myself.¡±

    ¡°Vindis doesn¡¯t celebrate Bloom?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°I doubt Vindis celebrates anything outside of Midsommar. The city itself is too full of thieves and swindlers to let your guard down for a simple day of celebration,¡± the elf sighed. Dahlia thought back to her experience with the floating city, back when she had last visited it. She recalled the fight she and James had gotten themselves into. She remembered those shadowy men and their talk of ¡®payback¡¯.

    ¡°I think I know what you mean,¡± Dahlia muttered.

    ¡°Where will you be heading?¡± Archibald asked, his left hand moving to adjust his belt. Dahlia sighed, her fingers moving to rub at her eyes. She then turned to the path that led to the eastern edge of town, where the training center was located.

    ¡°The one part of my day that I loathe,¡± Dahlia groaned. She frowned at the thought of today¡¯s session, her arms aching with the memory of the past few months. Her training with the guardsmen was painful, to say the least. It was getting worse with every passing week, especially since Seamus had dodged classes. She shuddered at the thought of doing more laps.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Archibald asked. His voice cut through the shaman¡¯s recollections, interrupting her pondering.

    ¡°Eh, it¡¯s nothing you should worry about,¡± Dahlia assured the elf, who raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°All right then. I¡¯ll get myself going to the tavern. Maybe I¡¯ll find Bjorn there.¡±

    Dahlia watched the mercenary walk off before she turned back to her initial destination. She grimaced, knowing that she had a lot to do before the day was truly over.

    <hr>

    James stepped out of the small hovel, taking a deep breath of the salty air.

    ¡®Where to next?¡¯ Faust asked.

    James had just left another of the refugee¡¯s homes, right after talking with the distressed elder. The refugee had wanted to make himself a home, but because of his old age and shaky craftsmanship, only managed a small hovel that was on the brink of falling in on itself. James had assured the man that he would get on building a new home for him whenever the aspiring clan leader found the time and resources. This was just one of the many promises James had made to the small populace of Aldren¡¯s refugees. He felt more than a little overwhelmed at the idea of fulfilling all of them, but he had little a choice.

    ¡°At least it¡¯s better than your job back on Earth,¡± James muttered to himself. It was nice knowing that he wasn¡¯t being constantly pushed by an overbearing supervisor. James looked at his surroundings, a small smile appearing on his face as he reminded himself that he wasn¡¯t on Earth anymore. No longer was he tied down with meaningless people and meaningless possessions. He wasn¡¯t a worthless employee anymore. He was now a leader to people, a person whom others looked up to.

    ¡°Best I started acting like it,¡± he breathed out in a puff of steam.

    ¡®So, where to now?¡¯ Faust repeated.

    ¡°To the orcs,¡± James responded with a sigh. ¡°Silas has been meaning to speak with me.¡± Silas was an orc James had met back at Aldren, back when the young man had been freeing the imprisoned humans the orcs had taken. The well-spoken orc was a prisoner himself and helped James free the rest of the prisoners, along with the young man¡¯s party. Now the orc was currently keeping the others of his kind in check, making sure they didn¡¯t destroy half of Yorktown out of boredom.

    James walked through the newly constructed streets of New Aldren, which was what some refugees were calling it. The former citizens of the destroyed settlement were adamant about keeping themselves separate from the other side of town, mainly because they refused to follow the new council. The other side of this barrier was the townsfolk of Yorktown, who insisted that a council was necessary to govern the small island.

    ¡®At some point, this is going to cause trouble for everyone here.¡¯

    James would have to soon convince both sides of this barrier to come together, lest a civil dispute break out.

    ¡®You should probably call an audience with the council, settle this before it gets ugly,¡¯ Faust¡¯s words wandered into James¡¯ mind.

    ¡°Good idea. We can do it later today, after we¡¯re done with our orc friends.¡± James stopped his short walk, his gaze settling on the small building ahead of him. It had a crudely drawn raven on its door, along with a sketch of what James could assume was a deformed orc. ¡°I guess subtlety isn¡¯t their thing.¡±

    Without so much of another comment, James entered the building. The first thing that hit him was the smell of mildew and sweat. He scrunched up his nose before covering it up with the collar of his cloak. James squinted through the dim interior of the orc barracks, which were only lit up by candles and glimpses of the outside light through curtains. He spotted the beds of the orcs, most of which were occupied by the sleeping behemoths. Nearby the sleeping orcs was a standing silhouette that was currently affixing one of the white raven banners to the wall. Once he got close enough, James could spot the orc¡¯s coarse black hair that ran to his shoulders. The orc wore a tunic and torn, bloodied gambeson that covered up his dark green skin.

    Silas tensed up at the sound of the front door closing, his head turning back to the young man who had entered.

    ¡°James. I was wondering when you would arrive.¡± The orc turned away from the blue banner to face the young clan leader.

    ¡°Had some errands to attend to,¡± James explained.

    ¡°Understandable. The needs of many are far more important,¡± Silas agreed. His hands moved to clasp behind his back like some advisor. The orc had a strange habit of being formal with his talks, even going so far as to raise his chin like a noble.

    ¡°So you wanted to meet with me?¡± James asked as he gazed around the barracks, spotting discarded gear and clothing.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve been meaning to have this talk with you for a while now.¡± Silas moved to take a seat at a nearby table, his enormous size causing it to shake. James stayed standing, his gaze moving to the table¡¯s contents as he crossed his arms. He spotted what looked to be a shoddy map of southern Valenfrost, along with a couple of curious red circles around the eastern edge.

    ¡°As you can see, I have been busy with things,¡± Silas started, the orc gesturing towards the map. He seemed to be hesitant with his words, the orc¡¯s jaw visibly clenching and unclenching. ¡°I¡¯ll cut to the chase already. About a week ago, after chasing away some bandits during a routine patrol, I had come into contact with another orc tribe east of here. Of course, I assessed them as a threat, until I had conversed with them.¡±

    Silas paused for a moment, his hand clenched tightly. ¡°After some conversation, I realized they weren¡¯t the same marauding orcs you may have heard of. They are outcasts, not unlike me and my rabble. They wish only to have a place to call home, and a leader to follow.¡± The orc leader looked at James with a look that asked the young man to listen. ¡°I had told them you, our leader, would think it over and possibly give them a home.

    Silas¡¯ words hung in the air like a haze, with only silence as a response.

    James blinked, his arms slowly falling to his side.

    ¡®More orcs?¡¯

    That was his first thought. James had to process what Silas had said.

    ¡°I assure you, they¡¯re not a threat. I am sure¨C¡±

    ¡°More orcs?¡± James furrowed his brow. ¡°Silas, it¡¯s already enough that you and your friends are living here. The council is only letting you stay because of your contribution to the last battle. Not only that, but me and Dahlia had to convince the new council of letting you stay permanently. The people here barely tolerate you guys. If we keep bringing more orcs here, it¡¯s going to cause even more problems.¡± James watched as Silas took in the words, the orc¡¯s gaze moving to the map in front of him.

    ¡°I can see why you would object, but please trust me when I say that their help is needed,¡± the orc said.

    ¡°What? What the hell are you talking about?¡± James asked.

    ¡°I am not a fool.¡± Silas turned back to the young man, his eyes full of determination and resolve. ¡°You are not a fool as well. You can feel it, can¡¯t you? The dark feeling of something. The overwhelming sense of dread? I can¡¯t explain it, but I¡¯ve been having this feeling of uncertainty. This feeling of¡­fear.¡± Silas shook his head.

    ¡°Something is coming and I feel as if we need the manpower to fight it.¡± Silas tapped at the map of Valenfrost.

    James sighed, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. ¡°Silas, you are overreacting. We can¡¯t just gather up a militia because of a bad feeling you have.¡± Granted, James was having the same gut feelings Silas was talking about, but it was easily explained by the amount of stress and nerves of leading an entire clan of people.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°Please heed my words, James. We have made significant enemies in the past, have we not? Blood-Irk and those Lumen Knights, not to mention those green tunics that dwell west of these islands. We have trifled with those men and yet you expect no consequences arising from such things?¡± Silas pointed out.

    James frowned a bit. Silas did have a good point. Despite the peaceful months that had passed, there was still the looming threat of Blood-Irk and Jarl Ivan. Not only that, but James had also fought and killed the two Lumen Knights who had attacked Yorktown months ago. There was no telling what kind of target he had painted onto his back.

    ¡®Don¡¯t forget that thing we fought,¡¯ Faust reminded James. The young man almost shuddered at that thought. The abominations he had fought all those months were still a threat, even with no proof of its continued presence. James knew they weren¡¯t truly dead, even with all of their known vessels destroyed.

    James looked back at Silas, who remained adamant in his points. The young clan leader took a deep breath, his hands clenched into fists.

    ¡°I¡¯ll talk with the council about it,¡± he answered finally.

    Silas let out a breath of relief, the orc¡¯s tense form relaxing. ¡°Thank you, James. You will not regret this.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope not.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Sir Halvorson!¡± A voice called out, the words they spoke causing the mentioned young man to squirm with discomfort. Seamus turned to see another of Aldren¡¯s refugees running up to him, a gnome from the looks of it.

    ¡°Yes?¡± Seamus asked, doing his best to remain inconspicuous. The young gnome didn¡¯t seem to notice Seamus¡¯ discomfort.

    ¡°Lowe requests your presence at the tavern, sir.¡± the gnome chirped.

    Seamus raised an eyebrow. ¡°Oh, uh¡­ sure. Thank you.¡±

    The gnome grinned at the response before he ran off into the side streets of Yorktown. Seamus let out a breath of relief. He was thankful that the gnome hadn¡¯t praised and kissed his arse out of respect for the Halvorson name.

    Since the last Battle for Yorktown, Seamus¡¯ secret had been revealed for all to hear. How it had happened was a question that was irrelevant now. The exposure of the significant name had caused the Aldren refugees to constantly swarm him and give their respects to Seamus¡¯ family name since the young man¡¯s father had previously reigned over them. Of course, without Yorn Halvorson to rule over their populace, Seamus was the default go-to. Seamus had instead led them to follow James instead, proclaiming the blond man a much more capable leader. While not a lie, the real reason behind this was because, to put it simply, Seamus loathed the attention his name brought him.

    He had already had to deal with the hundreds of ¡®Praise be the son of Yorn!¡¯ or the all too common ¡®Bless Yorn¡¯s son!¡¯. Seamus was tired of the name and was more than glad to burden James with the responsibility and weight of the refugees¡¯ expectations.

    ¡®Still, I do feel a little bad for putting all that on him.¡¯

    Seamus sighed, his hand moving to run through his hair. He had been trying to keep it neat and cut, but his shaky hands didn¡¯t do much of a good job cutting his hair. Currently, his head of hair looked lopsided and vaguely resembled the bowl of black that he had before. Seamus looked more like a vagrant now, but a well-groomed vagrant at that. The young man shook away his idle thoughts, his mind going back to what the gnome had said to him.

    ¡°Lowe wants to see me. Right¡­¡± Seamus nodded to himself before he headed his way to the only tavern in Yorktown.

    ¡®What does Lowe want?¡¯

    The man¨Cgnome¨Cin question was another of Aldren¡¯s refugees. Lowe Arclite had served under Yorn Halvorson as a watcher over Aldren during its initial construction. The gnome had even known the location of one of Yorn¡¯s old vaults, something that wasn¡¯t easily known. After the orc invasion that set the motions that caused Aldren¡¯s fall, Lowe survived and avoided becoming orc food, thanks to Seamus and his party.

    Seamus stopped at the entrance to the tavern, his hesitation clear in his movements. After he made sure no one was watching, Seamus pulled his cloak hood over his head, obscuring his face. After taking a breath, he stepped through the entrance, careful to not let his presence known. The tavern was mixed between refugees and native townsfolk, a clear split between them.

    Seamus realized that the Yorktown folk were stuck to the left side of the tavern, while the refugees stuck to the right side. Thankfully, it didn¡¯t seem like a violent separation, more of an ignoration type of thing, if anything. Seamus soon spotted what he was looking for, which was a gnome drinking at the bar, his balding scalp visible from behind. The young man headed his way to the bar, careful not to bump into the tavern¡¯s patrons.

    ¡°Hey!¡± a woman¡¯s voice suddenly called out behind Seamus. The young man froze in place, his hands clenching as he realized his cover was blown.

    ¡®Here come the praises,¡¯ he internally groaned.

    Upon turning, however, Seamus realized that the person responsible for his near heart attack wasn¡¯t a refugee. The brown-haired woman wore a wool cloak over her training gambeson, which was torn and dirty at the seams. She also had a blue sash visible underneath the cloak, signifying her as a town guard. Seamus blinked, realizing that she held a single blue valdora in between her index and thumb. Still, his surprise wasn¡¯t from the coin that had dropped from his pockets, but that of the woman herself.

    ¡°You dropped this sir,¡± Kate Rowan spoke with a voice laced with sweetness, her smile innocent as can be.

    ¡°Ah yes. Thank you.¡± Seamus coughed and leaned in, his fingers grabbing at the valdora. However, Kate''s grip on the coin was stronger than Seamus'' pull, causing the man to stumble slightly during the attempt. ¡°Hey¨C¡±

    ¡°You missed training again, Falken,¡± Kate spoke out in her sweet voice, her smile straining slightly as she leaned closer.

    ¡®Fake name. Either she¡¯s trying not to blow my cover or she¡¯s pissed. Maybe it¡¯s both.¡¯

    Seamus swallowed his fear. ¡°Yes ma¡¯am. I just have not been feeling so well, you see¡­ I¨C¡±

    ¡°Cut. The shit,¡± Kate almost hissed. ¡°Helen and Harald have been giving us hel for your laziness. You see¡­¡± Kate¡¯s other hand moved to grab at Seamus¡¯ wrist, her grip force enough to nearly make the young man crumble in defeat. ¡°For every hour you¡¯re not there, we have to do a repeat of our exercises,¡± Kate explained, her smile straining even more whilst her words remained sugarcoated.

    ¡°Do you feel this, Falken?¡± Kate squeezed harder, her grip forcing Seamus to shift uncomfortably. ¡°This is the result of your incompetence. The hours of training you have missed and the amount of training we had to make up for because of you,¡± Kate explained.

    ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll come next time! Promise!¡± Seamus whispered a shout, his jaw clenching as he felt the blood flow to his fingers cut off. Kate kept her grip on Seamus¡¯ wrist for a while, almost as if she was pondering his word. Finally, to the young man¡¯s relief, she let go.

    ¡°Fine. But the next time you miss a day, I will be back with the rest of the class. Believe me, they would love to show you what they learned in training,¡± Kate muttered, her smile falling as her voice became low.

    ¡°No worries. I¡¯ll be there,¡± Seamus answered back, his hand rubbing his hurting wrist. Kate sighed and turned away before walking out of the tavern, presumably off to return to her duties as a guard.

    Seamus sighed softly before making sure that the scene didn¡¯t catch any nosy folk. Thankfully, aside from a couple of turned heads, no one seemed to care about the small interaction between the guard and the young man. Seamus thanked his stars, his hand pocketing his valdora as he made his way to the gnome at the bar. Upon sitting on a nearby stool, Lowe finally spoke up.

    ¡°Took you long enough to settle that with your woman.¡± The drunkard¡¯s words caught Seamus off guard.

    ¡°She is not ¡®my woman¡¯. Kate is a friend. Nothing more,¡± the young man shot back.

    Lowe Arclite turned his balding head to Seamus, his tired eyes narrowing at the young man. ¡°Right. Deny what you will. Just know that most of the town sees what I see.¡±

    ¡°And what is that?¡± Seamus asked, a tinge of hostility in his tone.

    Lowe laughed at that. ¡°Getting defensive, are you?¡± The gnome grinned. ¡°Ah, don¡¯t give me that look. I¡¯m just busting your chops.¡±

    Seamus blinked, realizing then that his expression was contorted into a hostile look. He coughed nervously, his facial muscles relaxing soon after. ¡°What did you call me here for?¡± he asked.

    Lowe shrugged. ¡°I can¡¯t have a drink with you?¡±

    Seamus frowned at that. ¡°I know you didn¡¯t call me over here for a pint. If you did, Bjorn and Haggard would be here, ready to ambush me with mead and alcohol.¡±

    Lowe laughed heartily, the sound of it catching the attention of a couple of patrons. Seamus shrunk in his seat, careful not to expose himself to the prying eyes.

    ¡°You know your friends well, young Falken,¡± Lowe finished with Seamus¡¯ fake alias, something that most of the young man¡¯s friends used to call him whenever in a public area.

    ¡°Lowe, are you all right?¡¯ Seamus asked worriedly. The gnome wasn¡¯t the type to get drunk, nor was the boisterous kind. Lowe was reminding Seamus of Bjorn, who was always loud and drunk whenever alcohol was nearby. That dwarf could drink several kegs of golden liquid and still rally up an entire city if need be, with his booming laugh and loud speeches. Lowe, however, was a lightweight. Judging from the empty tankards, Lowe was barely on his third mug of mead, which looked to be watered down.

    Yet the gnome¡¯s nose was a bright red, his eyes half closed as he hiccupped. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Lowe waved off Seamus¡¯ concerns. ¡°I didn¡¯t call you here to judge my drinking. I called you here for this.¡± Lowe shifted in his seat, his hand bringing up a burlap sack that sat next to him. He handed it to Seamus, who felt its weight and shape. The young man¡¯s eyes widened as realization dawned on him.

    ¡°Is this¡­?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t take it out!¡± Lowe hissed, his small palm slapping Seamus¡¯ hand before the young man could take out the object in question. ¡°The thing¡¯s visage is cursed. At least from the stories I¡¯ve heard. Any weak-willed man here who lays an eye on it is bound to take it.¡±

    Seamus tilted his head in confusion. ¡°Back on the island, I didn¡¯t feel any effects,¡± he pointed out.

    ¡°That was because you and your friends were strong-willed enough to resist its urge,¡± Lowe explained.

    ¡®That makes little sense. Not to talk down to them, but I¡¯m sure at least someone back at Aldren would¡¯ve felt any effect.¡¯

    Seamus looked down at the sack, the outline of the golden cat slightly visible. This was the artifact Lowe had risked his life for back at Aldren, before it had burnt down. The same one that had nearly cost the lives of Seamus and his party. It was a small gold and ivory statue of a cat, its paw raised as if to mock the person holding it. The only thing abnormal about it was the strange glyphs it had on its back, something that Seamus still knew little about. Despite the four months of studying it, Lowe had never gotten back to Seamus about the damned thing. At least, until now.

    ¡°Did you find out anything about it?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Does it look like it?¡± Lowe answered back, his eyebrow raised. ¡°The damned thing is protected with very strong magic. So strong that dispelling is nigh impossible. Unless you¡¯re very skilled in magic,¡± Lowe explained.

    ¡°Lowe,¡± Seamus started with a sigh, his fingers feeling the statue through the burlap cloth. ¡°What if¡­¡± he hesitated for a moment, ¡°What if this ¡®artifact¡¯ is just a fake? A copy of the real thing?¡±

    The gnome¡¯s fist slammed against the bar, the sound making Seamus jump and the patrons looking over in surprise.

    ¡°It is not!¡± Lowe spat out. His sudden outburst caused most of the tavern to go quiet, the only sound being the crackling fireplace and the hushed whispers of onlookers.

    Seamus shrank even more into his seat. ¡°Lowe. Calm yourself.¡±

    The gnome soon realized the effects of his actions, his eyes downcast as he took a long, deep breath. Seamus could see how Lowe¡¯s hands shook as he calmed down.

    ¡°I did not risk the lives of you and your friends just for a¡­for a fucking paperweight,¡± the gnome muttered, quietly enough for only Seamus to hear. ¡°I almost killed you that day,¡± he finished softly, the redness in his face slowly fading away. The tavern soon went back to its usual noise, the patrons watching from nearby going back to their own business.

    ¡°Lowe, you did what you thought was the right choice. Hel, I¡¯m sure you even saved Aldren. If Blood-Irk¡¯s orcs got to that vault, who knew what kind of threat they would become?¡± Seamus¡¯ words seemed to ease some tension in the gnome¡¯s shoulders, but Lowe¡¯s soured expression remained the same.

    ¡°I just know it¡¯s the thing I was looking for,¡± Lowe spoke up finally, his hand pushing away the tankard of mead in front of him.

    ¡°How can we be sure?¡± Seamus asked, his gaze falling back to the burlap bag in his lap.

    Lowe sighed, his fingers scratching at his trimmed goatee. ¡°Look, there is only one way to tell whether the artifact is the real thing,¡± he pointed out. ¡°That is to find a skilled Wizard who will scry it.¡±

    Seamus nodded to that. ¡°We can take it to the Wizard at Vindis, Nathan. James and Dahlia have met with him, and from what they have told me, he¡¯s pretty skilled.¡±

    Lowe shook his head. ¡°No, it needs to be someone we can trust. I¡¯m sure Nathan is friendly, but we cannot take the risk.¡± Lowe leaned in closer to Seamus, his eyes darting around the tavern as if to make sure no one was listening. ¡°I have another idea. A longshot to be sure, but if it¡¯s true, we can finally put this thing to rest.¡±

    ¡°What are you on about?¡± Seamus asked. He wasn¡¯t sure what the gnome was talking about.

    ¡°This might be strange, but I think it to be true¡­¡± Lowe scooted his chair closer to Seamus. He took another look before he narrowed his eyes at Seamus. ¡°I believe a Wizard is hiding among the Aldren refugees.¡±

    Seamus blinked. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°A Wizard. Not just any twiddle fingers, too. I believe that Wizard Falrick is still alive and hiding among the populace of Yorktown¡¯s people,¡± Lowe revealed.

    ¡°Wizard Falrick?¡± Seamus repeated in surprise. Wizard Falrick was another one of Yorn¡¯s close subordinates, the spellcaster himself being responsible for the storm barrier that had surrounded Aldren. Seamus assumed the Wizard was dead, as the old man had fought the marauders the night the Halvorson Clan fell. The fact that he could be alive, hiding in the populace of Aldren¡¯s refugees, nonetheless, was ludicrous.

    ¡®Then again, I don¡¯t recall any reports of the old man falling during that bloody night.¡¯

    The simple thought briefly flashed horrifying images of the clan¡¯s fall into Seamus¡¯ mind. He instantly shuddered, shaking away the memories quickly.

    ¡°Why would he be here? Alive? Why would he hide as well?¡± Seamus bombarded the gnome with questions.

    Lowe raised both hands in defense, the simple gesture quieting Seamus down. ¡°I don¡¯t know. All I know is that even before the orcs raided the island, strange things were happening. The storm barrier that surrounded the island was supposed to go out shortly after the fall of Yorn. Yet it didn¡¯t. In fact, it had grown the week after the news of the clan¡¯s fall reached Aldren. Once the orcs did raid, I recall two of those brutes being found burnt to a crisp, despite no evidence of a Fireball rune or torch. I had initially thought it to be the butcher, but I doubt Lilith could¡¯ve done that clean of the job, let alone with fire.

    ¡°Furthermore, I hear there is talk of strange magic being witnessed in Yorktown¡¯s alleys and isolated spots. Its presence is nothing like the shaman¡¯s. I don¡¯t know why he would hide from us, but I swear it to be true. He is hiding, using an illusion spell, no doubt,¡± Lowe explained all of this in a whisper.

    Seamus pondered the gnome¡¯s suspicions, weighing the possibility of the Wizard being alive. ¡°We will have to investigate this further. I¡¯ll get James and the town guard on it as soon as¡ª¡±

    A man slamming the tavern¡¯s door open suddenly interrupted Seamus.

    ¡°Invaders! At the dock!¡± The man¡¯s sudden outburst received a solid second of silence from the tavern¡¯s patrons, as they were unsure if this was a prank. Suddenly, a woman guard stepped into the tavern.

    ¡°Gather up those who can fight! There¡¯s a clan ship at the dock, armed men on the deck! The Draugr is confronting them!¡± Her shouts struck Seamus like an ice spell, gooseflesh suddenly appearing on his skin.

    ¡®Clan ship? James? Confronting armed men?!¡¯

    This was going to end up badly, especially considering James¡¯ history of first confrontations. Seamus quickly rose from his stool, keeping the burlap sack close to him as he rushed out of the tavern with the rest of the patrons.

    ¡®Please please don¡¯t do something stupid, James,¡¯ Seamus prayed as he ran out into the cold Frost.

 B.3 Chapter 3: The Emissary

    ¡°Where the hell is James?!¡±

    Dahlia flinched at the shout, feeling the specks of spit hit her face. She wiped at her eyes, blinking a little before she laid her sights on the pissed-off ex-marauder. Helen Dunn wore a scowl like no other, her blue eyes narrowing as she turned to Dahlia.

    ¡°If he¡¯s off on patrol again¡­¡± the veteran started with a growl.

    ¡°He¡¯s running errands in New Aldren,¡± Dahlia answered.

    ¡°Errands again? Do those refugees have anything better to do than to pester him with mild disputes?¡± Helen groaned.

    ¡°It¡¯s more than that, from what I hear,¡± Harald suddenly intervened, the veteran stepping into the conversation. Dahlia noted the way Harald crossed his arms, hiding the red welts on his hands from that day¡¯s training session. They were currently at the training grounds reserved for the town guard, which neared Yorktown¡¯s border by the forest. However, instead of the buzzing sound of trainees gasping for breath and the telltale whack of a wooden sword, there was only the noise from Helen¡¯s spat with the veteran who held the training sessions.

    ¡°Like I care if it¡¯s more than that!¡± Helen shot back at Harald. ¡°If we keep letting him get away with being late, it¡¯ll turn into a bad habit.¡± Helen was the second in command when it came to training. The ex-marauder had learned all she could, just like Harald. She too was a veteran of the Outsider War, even if her service was noticeably shorter than Harald¡¯s.

    ¡°As well-intentioned as you are, I still think it¡¯s wrong to rush the young man when he has the responsibilities of a clan leader,¡± Harald pointed out.

    Helen huffed at that. ¡°Yeah, white raven and all that,¡± she muttered with a wave, her eyes rolling. ¡°No offense to James, but I doubt this clan is going anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Then why did you join it?¡± Dahlia asked, her brow furrowing. The shaman gestured towards the white raven painted over the blonde woman¡¯s leather armor, specifically where her old marauder symbol used to lay.

    ¡°To get the stain of Deimos off of me,¡± Helen deflected, rolling her eyes as she waved off the shaman.

    Dahlia continued to narrow her gaze at Helen, who refused to make eye contact with the shaman. Before she could continue to press forward, a voice shouted out from the entrance to the training grounds.

    ¡°Ship! Clan ship at the docks! Arm up! More invaders!¡±

    Dahlia perked up immediately, her focus soon moving to the young guard at the gate.

    ¡®What?¡¯

    Did she hear him right?

    ¡°What are¨C?¡±

    ¡°No time to explain. Gather up your arms!¡± the young guard panted out, his black hair soaked with sweat. ¡°Holter is already going to confront them! We have to hurry!¡±

    Dahlia blinked, her world suddenly gaining a sense of sharpness. ¡°James?¡± She managed out, before hearing Helen and Harald shift from their positions.

    ¡°Who¡¯s invading?!¡±

    ¡°James is doing what?!¡±

    Dahlia didn¡¯t wait for the two veterans to gear up. The shaman bolted out of the training grounds; her focus now on getting to the invaders as soon as possible. If James was already on his way to meet with them¡­

    ¡®Please don¡¯t do anything stupid, James,¡¯ Dahlia hoped, her hand moving to check her belt. Her fingers clenched at the handle of her dagger, ready to unsheathe it when the time called for it.

    <hr>

    James Holter stood before the docks, his eyes set on the purple sails of the invading ship. It displayed an image of a coiling serpent, its visage embroidered in golden threads. It was a symbol unrecognizable to him, even with his newfound knowledge of Valenfrost. The young man had done his best to educate himself during these last four months, even going out on patrols to get used to the surrounding sea. Yet, despite all the bandits he had faced, the places he had visited, he had never seen this symbol.

    James shifted his focus to the lone man in front of him. The stranger had ventured from the safety of his ship, his hands raised as to show he was unarmed. He wore a dark purple cloak, his neat and fancy gambeson bearing the symbol of the serpent. There were no weapons on his belt, nor any hidden in his clothing, as his sleeves were rolled up and his cloak was swept back to expose his torso. He had no helmet, letting his brown shoulder-length hair sway in the wind.

    James squinted at the stranger, realizing that the man was smiling.

    ¡°What¡¯s so amusing?¡± James asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never seen such a defensive town before. Usually, we are not greeted with raised swords and taught bows,¡± the stranger answered with a chuckle, his raised hands gesturing behind James.

    James took a glance at his back, seeing the many armed guards and civilians, even a couple of orcs in the mix. They all had weapons drawn, ranging from swords, maces, spears, and bows. James noted how some of the armed citizens were still in their sleepwear, despite it being mid-day.

    ¡°He can¡¯t blame us¡­¡± a voice commented to James¡¯ right. The young man turned to Felix Arlo, who had his bow drawn and ready with an arrow. The guardsmen¡¯s captain glanced at James with a look.

    ¡°With what we dealt with these past few months, it should come as no surprise that we¡¯re untrusting of outsiders,¡± Felix muttered softly. James nodded to that, his focus turning back to the smiling stranger.

    ¡°We have a bad history with visitors,¡± James explained. ¡°It usually starts with them being friendly before they try to kill us,¡± James raised his bandaged arm as if to show proof. ¡°Didn¡¯t turn out well for them, however.¡±

    ¡°We are not threats,¡± the stranger called out. ¡°The opposite, in fact. We are here in search of allies.¡±

    ¡°Allies?¡± James asked, his sword arm relaxing a little.

    ¡°Allies, huh?¡± Felix chuckled, his bow arm slowly lowering. ¡°That¡¯s a first.¡±

    ¡®He seems genuine,¡¯ James thought idly.

    ¡®Agreed,¡¯ Faust muttered.

    ¡°Yes, allies,¡± the stranger repeated.

    ¡°How do we know you won¡¯t send in those armed men on your ship?¡± Felix called out suddenly.

    The visitor shrugged. ¡°How do I know you¡¯re not going to put an arrow in my throat before I take another step?¡± Silence. The lone man chuckled at the blank stares before he continued. ¡°I guess you will have to trust me. Just as much as I trust you won¡¯t gut me the first chance you get.¡±

    ¡°Good point,¡± James muttered.

    ¡®Smart ass,¡¯ Faust commented.

    ¡°Besides,¡± the stranger continued. ¡°I doubt my four companions can take on an entire town, not including those orcs in the back.¡±

    That was another good point.

    ¡®What do we do?¡¯ Faust asked, the spirit¡¯s question echoing in the clan leader¡¯s headspace.

    ¡°Hmm,¡± James pondered his decision for a bit, his bandaged fingers scratching at his chin. ¡°If you want, we can arrange a meeting with the council. There you can¨C¡±

    ¡°Council?¡± The stranger asked, his voice sounding puzzled. He shook his head, a chuckle coming out. ¡°I did not come here to converse with the town council. I came in search of the clan leader. The Draugr. I can see the banners. He bears the white raven symbol, no?¡±

    James had to process the man¡¯s words. ¡°How did you¡­?¡±

    ¡°Word travels fast in the south. Whether it be captured bandits, fleeing orcs, or Vindis gossip.¡± The stranger¡¯s grin was seeping with confidence. There was not a single inkling of a guess in his words. He knew what he was looking for, and he knew it was here.

    ¡®I knew it was a bad idea to go out on those patrols.¡¯

    James had gone out with Silas on patrols around the island¡¯s waters, protecting it from bandits and the like. He had gotten some fighting experience while he was at it and got some bounty pay whenever he had turned the captured bandits into Vindis¡¯ authorities. He was stupid to think that his Draugr persona wouldn¡¯t leak out.

    James turned to Felix, who seemed conflicted. The guardsman had initially gone against the idea of a clan forming in Yorktown, instead opting for a council-centered government. However, he soon realized it was pointless to force it upon the Aldren refugees. Felix had reluctantly agreed to James¡¯ clan. Of course, that was months ago. Now the guard was indifferent to the clan, as the town council still had a say in what the refugees did. However, the stranger¡¯s request seemed to have muddled things.

    Felix gritted his teeth, his jaw visibly clenching and unclenching before he answered. ¡°You can meet with Draugr. But you must be alone.¡±

    The stranger laughed. ¡°Are you serious? I am not an idiot. Let me take four of my companions,¡± he argued. Felix stepped in to argue back, but James stopped him with a raised arm.

    ¡°Two, and I will be only accompanied by two guards as well. Make it even.¡±

    The visitor¡¯s eyes turned to James, his smile gaining an inch. ¡°Ah. So you are the Draugr, I suppose? I knew there was something different about you.¡±

    James sighed. ¡°Two guards, each of us. We have our meeting in the town hall with no one else accompanying us. Deal?¡± The young clan leader watched as the man in front of him pondered the offer.

    After what felt like forever, the man let out a breath. ¡°I accept. But we must have it now. I must be home in the next few days, and the trip here took us long enough.¡±

    ¡°Fine. Gather your two companions and follow me.¡± James sheathed his short sword, his whole body turning towards the east, where the town¡¯s longhouse was located.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Felix moved to protest. ¡°Hey! You¡¯re not seriously going to talk with this guy so soon?¡±

    ¡°We should get it over with as soon as possible,¡± James explained before he stopped, his eyes glancing at where the stranger was. The visitor was currently conversing with his companions, who seemed to be just as confused and surprised as Felix.

    ¡°Look,¡± the guardsman started, his fingers rubbing at his tired eyes. ¡°If you¡¯re going to do this, which I¡¯m sure you are, I¡¯m not going to stop you. I just want to ask, who¡¯s coming with you?¡±

    James opened his mouth to answer but stopped as soon as he saw more folks arriving at the dock, their weapons drawn. His gaze focused on the two friends of his who had just arrived. Seamus hurried to James, his eyes full of fear and confusion as Dahlia rushed in behind him.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?! I heard there were invaders?!¡±

    ¡°James! What¡¯s happening?! Are you all right?!¡±

    Their voices overlapped with each other, their words echoing throughout the harbor along with the murmurs of the surrounding townsfolk. James raised his hands to calm the two down, their voices suddenly going quiet as they spotted the ship.

    ¡°What the¡­¡±

    ¡°Who are they¡­?¡±

    They wouldn¡¯t be able to finish, as James placed both his hands on their shoulders.

    ¡°Come with me now,¡± he said with a smile. Seamus blinked in confusion, Dahlia¡¯s mouth opening to say something before she too was interrupted.

    ¡°You two are going to be my guards for the day.¡±

    <hr>

    The longhouse¡¯s interior was lit by candlelight and the crackling flames of the fire pit that was in the center of the room. James was seated at the long table that was used for the occasional meetings at the longhouse. It was the same one he was seated at back when the knights had come to the town. He refused to use the council¡¯s usual table, as it was more or less designed to intimidate whoever sat on its receiving end.

    Across from the young clan leader was the strange visitor who bore the golden serpent. He hadn¡¯t lost his smile, despite his two companions¡¯ grim and serious looks. Both of his guards wore steel helms not too dissimilar to James¡¯ steel piece of armor. They were equipped with worn-out gambesons, chainmail covering their torsos and, by extension, their clan symbols. James eyed their belts, which held their weapons of choice. Both men were equipped with an ax and dagger, their engravings visible from afar.

    James glanced at his own two guards, who were sitting at his side as opposed to standing right behind him. Dahlia and Seamus looked out of place almost, their clothing not even matching James¡¯. Seamus was wearing a greenish cloak over a dark blue tunic that suspiciously looked similar to the guardsmen¡¯s uniforms. He had no visible protection on him, the closest thing to a weapon on him being the knife he kept on his belt.

    James noted the way Seamus¡¯ fingers tapped sporadically against the wooden table as his eyes darted around the room nervously, avoiding eye contact with everyone present. Dahlia was much more held together. Her eyes were focused on the visitor, whilst also glancing at James now and then. She was wearing her poncho-like cloak, her dark green tunic visible underneath. James could see that she was equipped with her ornamental dagger, its engraved edge glinting in the orange light of the nearby fire pit.

    Feeling a bit more secure now, James fixed his focus on the man across from the table.

    ¡°So, do you mind introducing yourself?¡± he asked finally, breaking the awkward silence. The man nodded, his hand moving to stroke at his growing stubble.

    ¡°Of course,¡± the visitor started, his gaze shifting up toward the ceiling. ¡°My name is Daven Larsson. I am an emissary from House Olafson. Or better known as the Serpent Clan.¡± Daven gestured to his chest symbol. ¡°I was sent here in search of you, the mystery Draugr of the South.¡±

    ¡°Mystery Draugr?¡± James asked.

    Daven nodded. ¡°Yes, you see, my friend, you are a bit of a myth among the clans in the south. Bandits and fleeing orcs had recently spread the word of a draugr lurking around the south, preying on those who dare wrong the defenseless.¡± Daven chuckled heartily, his hand waving in the air. ¡°Of course, we thought little of it at first. Until we learned of the rumors surrounding a small fishing town in the distant southeast of Valenfrost.

    ¡°When our Jarl heard that a small clan was forming south of Vindis, possibly led by a man named after the undead, he had dismissed it as baseless stories. At least, until those stories and rumors had piled up, most of them coming from passing merchants in Vindis. When he heard that this small town in the south had fought off the Marauders of the North, and survived, he decided not to treat those stories so lightheartedly.¡±

    Daven leaned into the table, his piercing green eyes darting to the sides as if to look out for imaginary eavesdroppers. ¡°While I do believe a handful of the stories about this place, I still want to ask about some of them.¡± The visitor grinned, showing off the yellowed teeth his lips hid. ¡°Is there any truth to the rumor that you have fought the Red Death himself? Better yet, is it true about those Lumen Knights who supposedly died fighting you?¡±

    James blinked, his mind doing its best to process the words Daven had said.

    ¡®How did word of those events leak out? Don¡¯t tell me the townsfolk told those stories to passing merchants? After everything we tried to do to keep word from spreading beyond Yorktown?¡¯

    James wasn¡¯t sure whether he should confirm or deny the events, as doing either could lead to unforeseen consequences.

    ¡°Do not worry about trouble if that Lumen Knight story is true,¡± Daven reassured. ¡°Down south, we hate the Lumen Kingdom just as much as any bandit gang or orc tribe.¡±

    ¡°Does the truth of these events have anything to do with why you are here?¡± Dahlia asked suddenly, her arms crossing.

    Daven blinked, his smile faltering as he turned to the shaman. ¡°Well, not really¡­¡±

    ¡°Then we do not need to tell you anything,¡± Dahlia said. Daven¡¯s expression changed to that of slight disappointment, but he nodded in agreement.

    ¡°Of course, you have a point. I am here to discuss an alliance, not to interrogate you.¡± Daven¡¯s smile returned, his focus shifting to James. ¡°As I¡¯ve mentioned before, I am here in search of allies for House Olafson,¡± he explained. ¡°After hearing about your small clan¡¯s sudden upbringing, our Jarl wanted to build relations with this island.¡±

    James nodded, his back leaning against his chair. Relations with another clan sounded good, especially with the enemies he had made these last four months. Still, something felt off.

    ¡®Ask him how this alliance will work,¡¯ Faust spoke out in James¡¯ headspace.

    The young man nodded in agreement with the spirit. ¡°How would this alliance work? How can my people benefit from yours?¡±

    Daven shifted in his seat, his eyes breaking away from James¡¯ own. ¡°Well, it is fairly simple,¡± he started. ¡°An alliance with our clan will open up many opportunities and routes of trading. Medicine, supplies, and manpower will be increased. Many good things. All we ask is that you surrender full control of your island and town to House Olafson.¡±

    Silence echoed after Daven¡¯s words. It struck James like an icy breeze, the hairs on his back standing. He wasn¡¯t sure if he even heard the emissary right.

    ¡®Did he just¡­?¡¯

    ¡°Do not take this the wrong way, of course!¡± Daven had seemed to notice James¡¯ reaction. The emissary moved to sit up straight in response. ¡°This merger will bring many improvements to your small town. More merchants, money, and, of course, protection.¡±

    James raised a hand to quiet the other man. ¡°Stop. Look, I can see why you would think we need help, but Yorktown is doing fine on its own. The last thing we need is to give control to a foreign clan we never heard of.¡± James watched as Daven¡¯s expression dropped. The visitor didn¡¯t seem all too thrilled about being rejected.

    ¡°Holter, you must understand. House Olafson wants what you want. With our influence, Yorktown can become a much more stable settlement. A bigger settlement. A safer settlement. The Serpent Clan has its roots deep in Valenfrost¡¯s history. We even have a partial stake in Vindis, along with the other clans. With enough time, we will be on par with the Frue of the North.¡± Daven leaned into the table, his hand outstretched to James. ¡°Please, consider my offer.¡±

    James stared at the palm of Daven, his thoughts running wild in his mind.

    ¡®Do we need their help?¡¯

    James thought back to his duties as a clan leader, his duty as a councilman of Yorktown. The responsibilities of this island. They had all nearly overwhelmed him at times. His life risked whenever he had to put himself in front of those of the town. These things all weighed on him heavily, usually with very little time for respite.

    ¡®You could just hand it all off to these guys. I wouldn¡¯t even have to worry anymore. I could just live my life here,¡¯ his inner voice called out.

    James frowned at that. He had thought about this dilemma many times. What was ¡®living¡¯ his life? Why was he here in Valenfrost? The idea of going back home had lost its importance ages ago. Earth had nothing for him, but Valenfrost had something.

    Still, James wasn¡¯t sure what kept him here. Was it his new friends? The crippling fear of allowing his mistakes to linger here? Or was it something more? James thought back to his first days in this world. Back when he first saved Yorktown, when he had fought the marauders and that creature. When he was first summoned, he was confused, terrified, and wanted to go back home.

    At least until the night he had ¡®died¡¯. That experience of cold death alone was enough to permanently change James, but it wasn¡¯t the first thing to make the young man rethink his purpose. It was when he was standing up for the people of this small town. It was when he stood up to Deimos, knowing full well he would never win. James¡¯ drive, the one that had kick-started everything, was to protect the ones who couldn¡¯t do it themselves. That drive was his entire reason for all the events that transpired in these last four months.

    ¡®What will be the point of being here if I just take the easy route and give my purpose away to someone else? Not only that, but what kind of lousy clan leader will I be if I give my responsibilities up the first chance I get?¡¯

    James looked Daven straight in the eye.

    ¡°No deal,¡± he answered finally before standing up. ¡°I can¡¯t give up my people to a clan I know nothing about.¡±

    Daven took a long look at James before he gave a dejected sigh, his head shaking as he stood up.

    ¡°Fine, it is your choice.¡± The emissary slowly made his way to the longhouse¡¯s doors, his guards following close behind. ¡°It is a shame we could not reach a deal. I will leave for my home. I need to report this.¡± Daven stopped his walk, his head turning back to James. ¡°We will be on neutral terms with you, Draugr, should you ever change your mind,¡± Daven sighed. ¡°Remember that Valenfrost is an unforgiving mistress. Most small clans usually take us up on our offers. The ones that don¡¯t¡­¡± He went silent.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± James responded.

    ¡°I hope so. I also hope that you do not end up the same as the Hawk Clan.¡±

    ¡°Hawk Clan?¡± James raised his head.

    ¡°Yes. The one that lies west of here, led by that idiot Ivan Falk. If you would end up the same as he or, god forbid, worse, we will no longer be on neutral ground. You will be an enemy to us all, same as him. Is this clear?¡±

    ¡°Crystal,¡± James answered, his thoughts going back to the men who had assisted the Lumen Knights. It seemed like Jarl Ivan Falk had his fair share of enemies.

    ¡°May the gods guide you,¡± Daven called out before he turned away, his back turned to the room. James watched as the emissary walked out of the doors with his guards, the cold air from outside suddenly rushing in.

    For a good minute, there was silence among the trio of friends, their gazes set on where they had last seen Daven.

    ¡®What now?¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice broke the silence in James¡¯ head.

    The clan leader furrowed his brow, a bandaged hand moving up to scratch at his beard. ¡°Now? Now we¨C¡±

    A sudden burst of pain suddenly flashed through James¡¯ body, his hand instinctively moving to grab at his chest.

    ¡°What the?!¡± he involuntarily gasped loudly, his knees giving away as he collapsed onto the ground. James tried to take a breath, only for his lungs to fail him.

    ¡®Air! I need¡ª¡¯

    A sharp pain suddenly coursed through his head like a lightning bolt, disrupting all thought. James could hear his friends shouting, their blurred faces coming into view as he desperately tried to breathe.

    ¡°James?!¡±

    Was all he could make out. James tried to get up, his body rolling over so he could get on his hands and knees. His lungs then filled with something viscous, causing the young man to cough violently. He blinked. Blood. It stained the floor like nothing else, the dark contents seeping into the ground. James coughed again, his hand moving to cover his hand. More blood. His chest hurt like hell. Almost as if it had been pierced. The pain alone was overwhelming.

    ¡°I¡­I need¡­¡±

    ¡®Faust?! What¡¯s happening?!¡¯ James focused hard on trying not to pass out, his eyelids slowly growing heavier by the second.

    ¡®Faust?!¡¯ James called out again. He tried to reach out to the spirit mentally, hoping to find the Centurion spirit. James¡¯ eyes widened. Faust was nowhere to be found. His presence was gone. At least, for the passing moment.

    ¡®James?!¡¯ the Centurion¡¯s voice called out to the young man. Accompanying the spirit was the feeling of respite, the pains in his chest suddenly disappearing.

    ¡®What the fuck is happening?!¡¯ James called out in his mind, his muscles suddenly giving out. James fell back to the ground from his crawling position, the blood on the floor staining his face. His breathing was growing heavier, his vision darkening.

    ¡°What¡­What is happening?¡± James muttered, the pain in his body appearing and disappearing like crazy. He could feel how someone turned him onto his back, their hands moving to grab his chest, where it also bled. He tried to make it out, his eyes squinting as he used the last of his strength to raise his head.

    The last thing James saw before he passed out was Dahlia and Seamus yelling and panicking as they tried to stem the bleeding from his open chest wound.

 B.3 Chapter 4: Visages

    James awoke in the waters of his mindscape, his eyes staring up toward the endless oblivion. He sat up in the water, his hand moving to his head. It hurt like hell, a pain all too familiar and annoying to the young man. The last time he felt a pain like this was when he had faced off against the abomination months ago.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± James groaned aloud. He moved to stand, trying to keep his footing straight.

    ¡°How curious.¡±

    A female voice sounded out in the mindscape, catching James off guard. He quickly spun around, his eyes searching for the source.

    ¡°What the¡­?¡±

    Nothing. Just oblivion. James didn¡¯t sense the presence of another. Not even Faust¡¯s presence was around, which worried James even more.

    ¡°What is happening? How did I end up here?¡± This wasn¡¯t the first time James was in the mindscape, as he had visited many times before. Still, those were under special circumstances, such as clashing with another spirit. This wasn¡¯t an ordinary clash.

    ¡°Perhaps there is a reason you are here.¡±

    There it was again, the same female voice. It sounded eerily familiar. James tried to sense a source once again. No luck.

    ¡°Who is talking? Why are you talking?¡± he called out to the endless oblivion.

    The voice came back, a small chuckle leaking into the mindscape. ¡°Good question. However, it would ruin the fun if you were to know the answer.¡±

    James frowned. What fun was she talking about? Why could she talk to James in this place? And why was she here?

    ¡°Again, an answer for another time. I cannot wait till then,¡± the voice chuckled once more.

    James could feel his frustrations grow. He was tired of this ominous bullshit.

    ¡°What the hell is happening?! Where is Faust?! Who are you?!¡± No answer this time. James was about to shout again, to force that annoying voice to talk once more. He wouldn¡¯t get the chance.

    Pain suddenly flared through the young man¡¯s head, his hands moving to clutch at it. He gritted his teeth, trying his best to push through the agony. The pain coursed through his head again, forcing James to his knees. He felt the water splash around him, his hand moving to support himself on the ground. His fingers suddenly brushed against what felt like soft blades of grass.

    ¡°What the hell?¡± James opened his eyes, seeing that there was lush green grass growing all around him, the visage enough to make him blink in surprise. Pain shot through his head again, making him reel back in shock.

    ¡°Agh! Fuck!¡± James cursed. ¡°Wait a second.¡± James realized that his voice was doubling with another.

    ¡°No¡­¡±

    It was Faust¡¯s voice. It was there, doubling with his own words. James opened his eyes again, seeing that the grass was growing even more, the sky slowly brightening into a blue canvas.

    ¡°Not again. No no no!¡± James looked all around him. With every sharp pang of pain, the world was changing around him, his thoughts and voice drastically morphing into that of a certain Centurion. ¡°Not another memory! Goddamn it!¡±

    James clenched his jaw, trying to force his mind out of the memory recreation. The last thing he wanted was another reliving of the war-happy Centurion¡¯s past days. Unfortunately, his will would soon become overpowered.

    ¡°No,¡± he croaked out, feeling how his eyelids grew heavier.

    Despite James¡¯ determination, Faust¡¯s memories took over the young man¡¯s mind once more.

    <hr>

    ¡°Desimir! Move!¡±

    Faust opened his eyes, his lungs gasping for breath. He raised his head, blinking rapidly as he tried to see what was happening.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Faust rolled to the side, avoiding the strike of a nasty war hammer. The heavy head of the hammer smashed against the wet grass, sending specks of mud everywhere. Faust wiped his face, gritting his teeth as he focused on the attacker. The hammer wielder scowled at the Centurion, his hands pulling the bludgeon out of the muddy grass.

    ¡°Stay still and die!¡± he roared, his exposed arms raising his hammer once more. Faust reached for his side, looking for his trusty gladius. Nothing. Faust felt his heart drop, his feet quickly moving away from the incoming hammer strike.

    The Centurion watched as the war hammer struck the tree nearby, sending splinters of wood everywhere. He turned his focus to the grass he had just been laying in before he regained consciousness.

    ¡®There you are.¡¯

    Faust spotted the familiar glint of steel among the green blades. All he needed to do now was to retrieve the weapon and kill this brute.

    ¡®If only if it was so simple.¡¯

    Faust dodged another attack, feeling the air of the strike whip against his hair. The attacker was getting closer with every swing, his imposing figure getting closer to Faust. The Centurion wasn¡¯t worried, his hand moving to the small handle on his belt.

    ¡°Is that all you got? Ha! I guess Delphine¡¯s people aren¡¯t as strong as the Lumen kingdom makes it seem!¡± Faust¡¯s words seem to hit a nerve within the brute, whose reaction was more than volatile.

    ¡°You bastard heathen! I will show you Delphine¡¯s might!¡± The attacking soldier shouted in anger. He swung his war hammer again, this time aiming for Faust¡¯s head. The Centurion grinned, his eyes following the bludgeon.

    Then, as quickly as the hammer had struck, Faust was already below its swing. The Centurion brought his spare dagger up, shifting his center-of-gravity forward as he made his move. The hammer wielder¡¯s eyes widened at the view of Faust, his arms desperately trying to swing his hammer back at the Centurion. Unfortunately, he would be too late. Faust¡¯s dagger sank into the man¡¯s thigh, drawing out a scream of pain from the hammer wielder. The Centurion then ditched the dagger, leaving the other man behind. Faust sprinted his way to his gladius, which was poking out of the grass.

    Faust grabbed at its familiar hilt before he brought the weapon up against the attacker. The hammer-wielder was limping, his right hand carrying the bloodied dagger Faust had on his person. He was now defenseless, which was more than an incentive for Faust to attack once more. He rushed at the injured man, his gladius¡¯ tip aimed at the bastard¡¯s exposed jugular. However, the Centurion¡¯s advance was stopped by a whizzing arrow, which buried itself in a nearby tree. Faust instantly backed off from the marked tree, his eyes moving to the source of the arrow.

    ¡°Shit. Just what I needed,¡± he muttered. He focused on the nearby archer, who had her bow aimed at Faust. The Centurion prepared himself to dodge another of her arrows before a shout came out from his left.

    ¡°Desimir! To your right!¡±

    Faust blinked at that, his gaze moving to his right. ¡°Oh fu¨C!¡± He quickly sidestepped the incoming war hammer, watching with wide eyes as it hit empty air.

    Faust quickly created distance between himself and the two enemies, the surrounding trees doing little to comfort his safety. He risked a glance to the source of the shouting voice, wondering who it was that was shouting at him.

    ¡°It¡¯s you.¡± Faust clicked his tongue at the sight of Legionnaire Dasius. The soldier was currently resting against a bloody tree, his helmet gone and his armor mangled.

    Dasius scowled at Faust. ¡°Keep your focus on the battle, Desmir! I¡¯ll keep watch for any more surprises.¡± Faust raised an eyebrow at that. Dasius was the type to charge into battle headfirst, with no tactics involved. Now it seemed as if his recent injury had knocked some sense into him.

    Faust didn¡¯t have time to poke fun at the young legionnaire with a snide remark, so he changed his focus to the two enemy soldiers in front of him. The brute had found his resolve and was currently wielding his hammer, despite his limp. The archer already had another arrow nocked on her bow, her eyes focused on Faust. Faust took in his situation, weighing his options.

    ¡®She¡¯ll shoot me dead if I move a muscle. I will have to wait for a chance to catch her off guard. The big guy will be easier to deal with, once the archer is dealt with, of course. I cannot risk a confrontation with her taking over watch.¡¯

    Faust could feel the sweat run down his temple, his hand gripping tightly onto the gladius¡¯ hilt.

    ¡®All I need is an opening.¡¯

    The world was at a standstill, with both sides waiting for a chance to attack. Faust swallowed his nerve, his eyes focusing on the archer. He smiled.

    ¡°Mind surrendering? Make this all a little less complicated?¡± His words caught the sharpshooter by surprise.

    Her eyes narrowed as she scowled. ¡°Surrender? You Legion bastards don¡¯t get to make the negotiations. Not since this war has begun!¡± She was getting agitated, her hands shaking as she shouted at Faust.

    The Centurion¡¯s grin grew an extra inch. ¡°Come on now. We can all be civil here.¡±

    ¡°Civil?!¡± The woman¡¯s anger visibly grew. ¡°Were you civil when you burned Argen to the ground?! When you bastards slaughtered the scholars trying to escape?!¡±

    ¡°Now now. Tone,¡± Faust taunted with a condescending voice.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Go fuck yourself!¡± The archer loosed her arrow with little thought behind it. Faust was expecting the arrow, so it took little for him to dodge the misguided projectile. He quickly advanced upon the nearby hammer wielder, his gladius moving to strike at the brute. The other man was smart enough to raise his hammer in defense, deflecting the bronze blade. Faust watched as the brute tried for a counterstrike, the war hammer¡¯s head moving in for a strike at the Centurion¡¯s chest.

    Unfortunately for the Lumen soldier, Faust had expected it. The Centurion quickly backed away from the hammer strike. He turned his focus back on the archer, who was currently trying to nock another arrow on her bow. Faust charged at the archer, who soon realized her situation. She quickly ditched the bow, her hand bringing out a sizable dagger. The archer prepared a stab at the Centurion, her eyes burning with rage. However, Faust was not aiming to strike at her.

    ¡°Desimir! Behind you!¡± Dasius¡¯ shout was Faust¡¯s cue. The Centurion quickly dropped to the ground, feeling the air of the hammer strike whip against his sweat-matted hair.

    ¡®And here we go¡­¡¯

    Faust watched with satisfaction as the war hammer¡¯s blunt end struck against the surprised archer¡¯s chest, sounding out a loud ¡®unf!¡¯ from the woman as her chest caved in. Her chainmail did little to protect her. As the archer¡¯s corpse fell to the grassy ground, Faust himself rose from it. He sprung up from his low squat, his gladius aimed at the hammer wielder.

    The sharp tip sank into the brute¡¯s exposed neck with ease, the result being blood gushing from the wound. The loud gurgle of blood drowned the brute¡¯s half shout out, the viscous substance filling his mouth. It was a sight that the Centurion was all too familiar with. Faust forced the blade deeper and watched as the Lumen soldier¡¯s life was swept away from his eyes. It was like watching a candle being snuffed.

    Faust caught his breath, using his free hand to wipe the blood away from his face. He then grunted with effort as he pulled his blade out of the dead man¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Crazy bastard,¡± Dasius¡¯ voice sounded out. Faust chuckled, his gaze moving to the legionnaire. Dasius was resting on the ground now, his armor still mangled and his eyes still weighed with heavy bags.

    ¡°Couldn¡¯t you be more careful?¡± Faust asked with a raised eyebrow. He sheathed his trusty gladius, his gaze glancing at his surroundings. The surrounding woods didn¡¯t seem to hold any more threats, which relieved the exhausted Centurion.

    ¡°Coming from the man who, just a few seconds ago, almost had his head lopped off,¡± Dasius spat.

    Faust chuckled as he made a grand gesture. ¡°Nothing I haven¡¯t dealt with before. It seems as if Caelus favors me.¡± The Centurion approached Dasius¡¯ side, kneeling to examine the legionnaire¡¯s wounds. The young man¡¯s armor was crushed inwards, a wound that resulted from that bastard¡¯s war hammer. Blood was running down his arms too, this one being the fault of the arrowhead stuck in the legionnaire¡¯s shoulder. While not much of a fatal wound, the amount of blood loss was staggering now that the Centurion had a good look at it. Not only that, but Dasius¡¯ breaths seem to grow weaker, his eyelids half closed.

    Faust frowned. ¡°Your wounds have been unchecked for too long. You¡¯re dying,¡± he breathed out.

    Dasius laughed dryly. ¡°How kind of you to break such news to me.¡± He breathed in another breath that made it sound as if he had crushed glass in his lungs. ¡°I know I¡¯m dying. Why do you think I cared so much as to warn you during your scuffle?¡± The legionnaire¡¯s carefree approach to his demise was surprising to Faust.

    ¡®Idiot.¡¯

    Faust scowled. Dasius was dying, and the idiot was acting as if he had a mere flesh wound.

    ¡°I should have a potion here for you. Stay put,¡± Faust said. Granted, he only had a small health potion. It wouldn¡¯t do much in healing Dasius, but it would give the young man enough strength and time to hold out until Faust could get him back to camp. Faust felt how his fingers searched through his satchel, pushing past his many items in search of the glass vial that held the potion. His eyes widened at the sharp stab of pain and the cold sensation of spilled liquid.

    ¡°No¡­¡± Faust fingers pull out a broken vial, its wax seal burst open and its contents all but soaked in his hand. ¡°When I fell back onto the ground. Dammit!¡± Faust cursed himself for not being so careful with his satchel, knowing full well that the glass vials weren¡¯t all that sturdy when it came to a fight.

    ¡®Then again, who would¡¯ve expected a simple recon mission to go south this fast?¡¯

    Faust clenched his fist, feeling the sharp edges of the vial dig into his palm. Of course, it wouldn¡¯t matter much, since the spilled potion was already healing the cuts the glass made.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­I¡¯m sorry,¡± Faust muttered. Dasius didn¡¯t seem all too affected.

    ¡°Are you going to make this much of a fuss over me?¡± he asked. ¡°Faust Desimir, Cyrus¡¯ Beckoning Sword. The man who sent Lumen troops running and inspired the front line of the Legion. Now fallen to the level of worrying for a simple soldier such as I¡­¡± Dasius laughed. ¡°What a joke.¡±

    Faust blinked, unsure if he had heard Dasius right. ¡°Are you joking?! You idiot!¡± Faust threw away the broken remains of the potion.

    ¡°You¡¯re dying and all you can do with your strength is belittle me?! Are you this stupid?!¡± Faust spat. He was beyond angry at the dying man. This idiot was willing to spend his last breaths being snide at the Centurion for showing some humanity.

    Dasius chuckled at Faust¡¯s outburst, his head resting against the tree¡¯s rough bark. ¡°You¡¯re the idiot,¡± he breathed out. ¡°You choose to show humanity to make me feel better, but we both know that you¡¯re lying. That you¡¯re only just guilty.¡± Dasius coughed out specks of blood, groaning as he wiped his mouth. ¡°There¡¯s nothing we can do other than talk. So let¡¯s do that,¡± the young man suggested. ¡°And be honest with me. Else I will curse you forever in Dremor¡¯s domain.¡±

    Faust sighed softly, his cleaner hand rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. ¡°Fine. What do you want to talk about?¡±

    ¡°How am I supposed to know?¡± Dasius wheezed out in what Faust could assume was an attempt at a laugh. The legionnaire¡¯s grin was still there, and it didn¡¯t seem like it was going to falter soon.

    ¡°Actually,¡± Dasius furrowed his brow, his hand moving up to rub at his chin in thought. ¡°What do you think of Legate Seran?¡±

    ¡°Do you want to know?¡± Faust asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m dying here. It¡¯s the least you could do. I want to know the true Faust and his thoughts,¡± Dasius pressed.

    Faust sighed, his gaze moving to the clear blue sky. ¡°He¡¯s a bit of an asshole. Uptight and sometimes thinks too much of himself. His son is worse since the little dung head sees everyone as a statistic more than an actual person. At least the Legate tries to connect with the men, despite his rough nature,¡± Faust muttered.

    Dasius¡¯ laugh sounded out loudly, followed quickly by his wheezing. ¡°Good to know we grunts aren¡¯t the only ones who think so. You¡¯re also spot on. The Legate¡¯s son is much worse. Fucking Avide. I hope he gets sent to the front lines. Little bastard child.¡±

    Faust couldn¡¯t help but grin at that. ¡°What a sight that would be, eh?¡± he joked.

    Dasius chuckled, his head shaking as he tried to sit upright. ¡°All right. Next question. What do you think of Cyrus?¡±

    Faust raised an eyebrow. ¡°Really? Do you want to know?¡± He added cautiously. Cyrus was the current ruler of the Legion. The man himself was responsible for reforming an old dead civilization from the times before the first wish. He had brought many villages and cities out of poverty, giving many a second chance at life. He revolutionized military tactics and formed a powerful fist over this region of Azurvale, all of which imitated the likes of the Lumen Kingdom itself. From the view of his people, and even some of his foes, Cyrus was seen as a deity in the Legion. This was why Faust was hesitant to tell his honest opinion to a young man who had joined the Legion Army at the ripe age of sixteen.

    ¡°Just tell me,¡± Dasius pushed. Faust frowned but complied anyway. Dasius had little time.

    ¡°He¡¯s an honest man with good intentions. Cyrus had gotten me out of my rough life in the streets of Serine. He¡¯s the entire reason I have a life. Why I¡¯m alive. Still, he¡¯s not a perfect person. Cyrus has a problem with establishing his authority everywhere. To this day I am not even sure he even cares fully for the wellbeing of his people, as he pushes to conquer most of Azurvale,¡± the Centurion ranted on, his thoughts going to the Legion¡¯s figurehead himself. ¡°He thrives on conflict, war itself. If it wasn¡¯t for Bartholomew¡¯s Shrine and the hundred-year war it had brought, the foundation for his empire would have never existed. It is why he continues to push. To fight the Lumen Kingdom.¡±

    Faust watched as Dasius¡¯s face faltered, his eyes watching the sky above. Still, his lips formed a soft smile. ¡°Funny, I thought your view of him would be worse. Good to know I was wrong.¡± The young man took another breath, this one sounding even more painful. His voice was weaker now, almost as if he was on the edge of sleep itself. ¡°Do you have someone back home? Family? Friends?¡±

    ¡°I have someone,¡± Faust answered. ¡°Her name is Diane. I plan to marry her once I get back from this.¡±

    Dasius raised an eyebrow. ¡°What about your other family? Siblings? Parents?¡±

    ¡°None that I know of. My mother died birthing me and I have no known father to speak of,¡± Faust explained.

    ¡°I see,¡± Dasius muttered. ¡°I only have my parents waiting for me back home. The only others close to me are either dead or far distant from me. No friends nor siblings.¡±

    Faust frowned. ¡°You have the Legion as your family. Thousands of brothers and sisters in arms.¡± Faust grabbed Dasius¡¯ hand. ¡°Even when your soul enters Dremor¡¯s domain, you will have us in your memories. In your heart. You will never be alone. Not before, nor after death,¡± he assured the young man.

    Dasius grinned. ¡°That¡­that sounds nice,¡± he muttered. ¡°I think¡­ I think I¡¯ll close my eyes a bit. Get some rest. I¡¯m so tired¡­¡± Dasius swallowed hard, more sweat appearing on his forehead. He looked deathly pale now, his eyelids visibly struggling to stay open. ¡°Please¡­ keep going.¡±

    Faust grinned, his head nodding slightly. ¡°You will be hailed as a hero, a man worthy of being looked up to. Dasius Phin, the man who saved Centurion Desimir. Your grave will be covered in the finest of flower buds, with a chorus of beautiful women singing out your tale. Your name shall be immortalized in the form of these woodlands, as to preserve its beauty and history.¡± Faust chuckled. ¡°Cyrus himself will bless your body, and¡­ and¡­¡± Faust¡¯s words trailed off as he felt Dasius¡¯ hand go limp.

    The Centurion was silent for a long time, his gaze focused on the ground as he held the hand of the soldier who had saved his life. Surrounded by bodies and peaceful woods, he sat there, silent as he brewed in his thoughts. Only once the sun set would he go back to the base camp, carrying the body of Dasius Phin.

    <hr>

    ¡°He¡¯s coming to!¡±

    James could hear a familiar voice in the distance. It sounded quiet, hushed almost. ¡®Where am I?¡¯ He mentally groaned. No response. He moved to open his heavy eyelids, a light groan escaping his lips as he was greeted with candlelight. James blinked once, frowning as his eyes grew adjusted to the flickering light of Dahlia¡¯s fireplace. He was in his bed, covered in blankets. Three figures were by his bed, their faces obscured by the lighting of the shaman¡¯s hut.

    ¡°What the¡­? What happened?¡± James started, his body shifting to sit upright in his bed.

    ¡°You passed out screaming,¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice sounded out. James blinked once more, his vision finally growing clearer. Dahlia was standing the nearest to him, her golden irises filled with worry. Seamus was at the far end of the bed, his eyes marred with exhaustion. The third person was none other than the town doctor who had treated James before.

    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you alive and well. What do you remember before passing out?¡± The question sounded off as if the doctor himself wasn¡¯t sure what had happened.

    ¡°I was bleeding,¡± James muttered. He was trying his best to piece his memories back together again, not to confuse Faust¡¯s with his own. ¡°My chest¡­it hurt like hell.¡±

    ¡°As it should. You suffered a terrible chest wound mere minutes after your meeting with that emissary,¡± the town doctor spoke up. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how your friends got it stitched together, but Dahlia and Seamus kept you stable by the time I arrived.¡± He shook his head. ¡°As of the moment, you are strangely healthy. No visible side effects nor injuries.¡± The doctor frowned. ¡°It¡¯s as if the wound was never there.¡±

    ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± James asked. His hand moved to grab at his chest, which ached like hell.

    ¡°Dahlia knows what has happened,¡± Seamus spoke up. ¡°At least she thinks she knows.¡± Seamus gave the shaman a side glance, who focused her attention on James. She took a deep sigh, almost as if she wasn¡¯t sure how to break the news.

    ¡°James. Back when you and Faust first fused, it was because of the ritual I had performed on you. Your ley lines fused with that of Faust¡¯s spirit and because of that, they had grown to lengths thought impossible. To put it into words you can understand, Faust¡¯s abilities as a spirit were enough to heal your wound from Deimos. Not only that, but he could enhance your own abilities, including your quick reflexes and healing factor.¡±

    Dahlia paused, her eyes averting. ¡°But back when you fought Gryff. When you and Faust overloaded his ley lines. Gryff¡¯s resistance to your attempts, the same attempts that gave you your cryomancy and disfigured arm. It had weakened the bond between you and Faust. At first, I had calculated the bond to last for at least a decade, but now¡­¡±

    James could feel how the room grew cold, everyone¡¯s gazes now focused on the ground or wall.

    ¡®No¡­¡¯

    ¡°James. Judging from how weak your bond with Faust is growing, you won¡¯t make it to the next Frost solstice.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 5: Reception

    The air in the longhouse was still and quiet, the only noises audible being that of the crackling flames. The longhouse was filled with the trusted men and women of Yorktown, including the mercenaries who had helped save it months back. Archibald was watching from the entrance of the longhouse, his eyebrow raised as he watched everyone. Bjorn was currently nursing a headache, a result that had many possible origins. Lowe was quietly observing from his seat at the nearby table, the Aldren representative seeming confused. Helen, Seamus, and a very sleep-deprived Haggard, all sat nearby Lowe. Silas sat across from them, along with a couple of his closest orcs. Kate was standing guard near the council¡¯s table, which was located at the end of the room.

    James sat at the head of the council¡¯s table, along with Felix and the new council members, which consisted of a couple of the town¡¯s elders and a familiar veteran. Harald seemed to shift his gaze to James, who did his best to keep a straight poker face. James wasn¡¯t in the mood to pour his heart out to everyone here. Nor was he there to tell everyone to sod off.

    ¡®How do you tell your friends and allies that you are going to die?¡¯ James thought absentmindedly. His hand instinctively moved to his chest, where his old wound used to lie.

    ¡®It rarely ever happens, if at all. Let¡¯s just be thankful that it wasn¡¯t as sudden as many of the fates people of this world meet.¡¯

    Faust¡¯s words seem to give James some comfort, even if slightly. He recalled the memory he had experienced the other day. James could still remember how Dasius seemed to smile at death, his confidence unchanging.

    ¡®Faust,¡¯ James started.

    ¡®Don¡¯t. That memory is one I¡¯d rather not talk about. At least, not as yet.¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice had a sense of anger mixed with cold reproach. The young man nodded slightly to himself, deciding to put that matter to the side.

    James looked to his right, where Dahlia stood. She was there to help explain his situation if the need arose. She gave him a slight nod, as if to push him to speak. James swallowed his nerve, his jaw clenching as he straightened his posture.

    ¡°I suppose you are all wondering why you were called into this meeting,¡± he spoke. Murmurs sound out throughout the longhouse, with a couple of mundane guesses that had to do with the upcoming Bloom festival.

    ¡°Is it about those men who came into town a couple of days back?¡± Nora¡¯s voice suddenly called out. James turned to his left on the council, where the councilwoman sat. Nora narrowed her gaze at James. She had been the same council member who had suggested the exile of the young man months back. Now, however, she was a quiet member of the newly reformed council, rarely ever losing her temper at those who questioned her. James supposed it had something to do with the second battle for Yorktown, back when the townsfolk voted to have James¡¯ exile revoked.

    ¡°I thought it was about the wound that knocked the young man out for two whole days?¡± another council member sounded out, this one being an elder who had been in Yorktown for years.

    ¡°Wait¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wound? There was a fight?¡± another spoke, interrupting James¡¯ response.

    ¡°What kind of injury?¡±

    ¡°Wait, was it those bastards who did this to you?¡±

    ¡°Where are those serpent bastards now? This calls for a fight!¡±

    ¡°Are you stupid?!¡±

    Before long, the entire room was filled with arguing and bickering, most of it being about the emissary who had come to town and how they had tried to assassinate James. The young man himself was doing his best to dispel the ruckus, but his attempts were ignored.

    ¡®Can these guys calm down for just a second?!¡¯ James angrily thought.

    The conversation had completely gone out of hand and now devolved into a flurry of questions and shouts. It was an amalgamation of chaos, to the point where Harald himself had to jump in to try to stop the shouting. James could feel his anger simmer to a boiling point.

    ¡®For the love of the gods, shut them up!¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice shouted out from the mindscape.

    Hands clenched, James let it all out in frustration.

    ¡°Will everyone just shut the fuck up?!¡±

    James¡¯ anger echoed throughout the room, the shout even shutting Bjorn up. Everyone stared at James, who was now standing from his seat. The flames in the longhouse flickered violently, almost as if a breeze was threatening to snuff them out. Everyone was silent, their gazes fixed on the young clan leader.

    Seamus was the first to speak up, his soft voice breaking the silence. ¡°James. Your eyes.¡±

    The blond man blinked, realizing that his headache had come back, along with an intense heat that made him feel as if his brain was about to melt. He raised a hand to his face, seeing the blue glow that was enacting from his eyes. James closed his eyes, taking a deep sigh as he focused. Slowly, his anger dissipated bit by bit. Soon enough, the heat from his eyes died down, leaving him feeling drained. He let out a breath of relief before he opened his eyes to the longhouse occupants. They were all staring at him, quiet as they sat in their respective spots. Most of them had seen the young man at this stage of anger, back during the incidents that had transpired months ago. Still, despite this not being the first time they had seen it, they all still emanated the aura of genuine fear. James frowned as he surveyed the room.

    Haggard was eyeing James with a look of surprise and uncertainty, his hand ever so hovering over his belt. Helen had the same expression on her, only without visibly reaching for a weapon. Seamus looked meek, a tinge of genuine worry in his eyes as he watched James. Lowe, Kate, Archibald, and most of the council members visibly shuffled a couple of inches away from the young clan leader. Harald himself looked unaffected at first, but his eyes showed a glint of concern whilst also appearing cautious. Silas and Bjorn were grinning, a look of interest in their gazes. James stole a glance at Dahlia, whose expression was the same as before. She was the only one who wasn¡¯t affected by James¡¯ outburst.

    ¡®Guess that goes to show how much hell she has gone through with me. Both her and Seamus.¡¯

    James silently thanked his two closest friends, as they had been there with him since the beginning.

    ¡®Best not to look weak in front of them.¡¯

    James straightened up, his gaze returning to the room in front of him.

    ¡°House Olafson, the Serpent Clan, is not our enemy. They were here to offer us an alliance that required Yorktown to merge with them and give them full control.¡±

    Murmurs sounded out through the longhouse, most of them negative towards the supposed deal.

    ¡°Of course, I had rejected it. They have taken it well and have decided to stay neutral with us. Now, as for the wound,¡± James raised a hand to quiet down the rising voices. ¡°It is a result of a fight I had months ago. Back when Deimos had raided the island. I was impaled through my chest by my sword and left to die. Of course, as everyone here knows now, Dahlia had revived me that night. She implanted a spirit inside me.¡± James brought his hand to his chest.

    ¡°The act saved me, healing my wound. Now, however, as a result of my fight with Gryff, the bond between my body and the spirit is weakening. At first, the bond was supposed to last me for years, more than enough time for Dahlia to find a way to heal my original wound. Now¡­¡±

    James looked down at his chest, his mind going back to his initial ¡®death¡¯ and revival. It felt wrong that this was happening to him. He had gotten his second chance, didn¡¯t he? What was so fair about this? Now he was going to lose everything he had built up, all of his friends, his accomplishments.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡®No. It was meant to end like this.¡¯

    James recalled the words Dahlia had said to him back on their first visit to Vindis.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°Luck doesn¡¯t run forever. You might think at first that you¡¯re unstoppable because you avoid death and gain friends, but eventually, fate will catch up to you. No matter who you are. At some point, fate will balance the scales, and the ones who rely on luck will be hit the hardest,¡±

    </blockquote>

    James gritted his teeth in anger, clenching his jaw so tightly that sharp stabs of pain shot throughout his head.

    ¡®I guess fate has balanced the scales¡­ and I was caught in its gaze.¡¯

    He looked up at the room before him, catching everyone¡¯s gaze once more. It would be best to get it over with as soon as possible.

    ¡°My bond has been shortened to months. By Frost, I will be dead.¡±

    His words struck everyone with a noticeable air. The room felt colder, the flames lighting the longhouse now weaker.

    The first to speak was Archibald, the elf¡¯s eyes full of disbelief. ¡°Is this some sort of joke?¡± he asked.

    James shook his head. ¡°The bond between me and the spirit is weakening. It was the reason why I was out of commission these last couple of days. My old wound, it¡¯s reopening. Not fully, but as time goes by, the spirit¡¯s bond grows weaker. Eventually, it will come back in full force, and I cannot do anything to prevent it.¡±

    ¡°Are you serious?¡± Haggard called out, the drifter stepping up.

    ¡°Can we fix it? Extend its bond?¡± Felix spoke up.

    ¡°No, we cannot,¡± James answered. ¡°At least, not with our current resources,¡± he added.

    ¡°We will have to connect James directly to the ley lines of Azura,¡± Dahlia broke her silence. ¡°The only way of doing so is to either dig down hundreds of miles into the ground or to have a very highly skilled spellcaster do it,¡± she continued. ¡°Even so, connecting someone to the raw power of a ley line¡­ It¡¯ll be like hitting James with the force of a thousand lightning bolts. It¡¯ll kill him before it restores the bond between him and Faust.¡±

    Dahlia looked at her feet. ¡°There is nothing we can do.¡± Her words seem to instill a sense of cold silence within the room. James frowned, his hands slightly shaking.

    ¡®This isn¡¯t the end,¡¯ Faust muttered. ¡®You can still make the most of your life¡­ You¡¯re not going to just sit on your ass and let your death come, right? James, you still have time to make your mark, to make sure your second chance wasn¡¯t for nothing.¡¯

    James blinked in response to the spirit¡¯s words. Faust was right. Who was to say that fate restricted James¡¯ influence? He was dying, sure, but he wasn¡¯t out of the picture yet. He could still keep pushing and fighting.

    ¡®What¡¯s the point of a second chance if I don¡¯t use it to its fullest?¡¯ James could feel his spirit become reinvigorated, his gloomy outlook on life soon dissipating.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t mean the end. At least, not this island¡¯s end,¡± James suddenly spoke out. ¡°As of now, I¡¯m going to double down on the clan¡¯s growth. On this settlement¡¯s long-term survival.¡± James slammed his hands onto the council table. He could hear his heart beat in his ears, his initial doubts fading away. ¡°Right now, we¡¯re a joke to the other clans. But I¡¯m going to change that.¡±

    James could see how everyone was reacting to his newfound vigor, their eyes now all over him. ¡°I¡¯ll build our influence in southern Valenfrost. Yorktown, no, the White Raven clan is going to grow beyond anyone¡¯s belief. I promise, by the time I leave this world, not even Delphine herself will see what¡¯s coming.¡±

    The room was silent, with Dahlia watching James with a surprised look. Even Seamus looked wide eyed.

    Felix was the first to speak up. ¡°James, do you really believe you can accomplish so much in less than a year?¡± His question didn¡¯t carry an ounce of disapproval, but it did sound as if the guardsman had some doubts.

    James nodded towards Felix, a smile forming on the edge of his lips. ¡°You have my word. I¡¯ll leave my mark on this world, dead or alive. Besides, I have the rest of my life to figure it out.¡± The awkward joke made Felix visibly uncomfortable, but the guardsmen himself managed a small nod. ¡°If we all come together, if we all work hard enough, we can turn Yorktown into something great. Something that even the marauders won¡¯t dare come near.¡±

    Murmurs had begun to arise amongst the longhouse. Before James could speak again, Dahlia butted in. ¡°If we expand ourselves, we could even find a way to fix James¡¯ condition. I myself only know so much about necromancy and the undead¡­ There¡¯s a good chance someone out there knows a way to extend the bond between James and the spirit.¡± Her words caused even more commotion.

    ¡°In short, you¡¯re saying we need to progress faster. To become bigger. To be a clan worthy of recognition,¡± Haggard stepped up, his grin visible. James nodded to the former drifter, who had recently vouched to become an unofficial sword to James. Back then, James was a bit confused on why he wanted to stay, let alone become a part of the newly born clan. Now James could see the look of excitement in the drifter¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Even if we do become bigger, the threats are most likely going to increase,¡± Harald said. The veteran gave James a look, one that clearly said ¡®Are you going to be able to handle this?¡¯.

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to get stronger, right?¡± James rebutted with a confident grin. ¡°We¡¯ve handled a lot worse than rival clans or bandits.¡±

    ¡°James is right. We¡¯ve handled much more dangerous foes in the past. We¡¯ve pushed through those obstacles. Surely expanding won¡¯t be just as hard,¡± Seamus called out.

    ¡°Dahlia also has a point,¡± Helen commented. ¡°Valenfrost is a big place. Good chance that we¡¯ll find someone with enough knowledge in the undead who can fix James¡¯ dilemma.¡±

    Bjorn¡¯s voice sounded out right after. ¡°They¡¯re both right. As grim as the initial news may be, James and that raven clan will die if we spend valuable time sitting on our arses.¡±

    Archibald turned to the dwarf, the elf¡¯s eyebrows furrowing. ¡°Are you really going to help out? It isn¡¯t really your place to stay.¡±

    ¡°Of course it is!¡± Bjorn shot back. ¡°It¡¯s been my place since that bastard Gryff put a shard of ice in my socket!¡± Bjorn gestured towards his eyepatch. ¡°I¡¯ve already bled for this town. It¡¯ll be a waste of an eye if it all goes down in the gutter.¡±

    Archibald raised an eyebrow. ¡°Seriously, that¡¯s your reason?¡±

    ¡°That and if James dies, my only source of income is gone.¡±

    ¡°Income? Wait, you¡¯re getting paid?!¡±

    Bjorn was, in fact, getting paid. The dwarf was hired to help patrol around Yorktown¡¯s waters, taking care of bandits for a monthly fee of a couple of gold. James himself had barely managed to barter to that low price, in exchange for Bjorn to have a sizable discount at the tavern. The young clan leader barely had a source of income himself, if it could be called that. James¡¯ wealth came solely from the loot he had ¡®confiscated¡¯ from bandit ships. Still, the coin varied wildly and James was always on the edge of poverty.

    His expenses included, and were not limited to: Dimitris crew, food for Silas and his orcs, construction of New Aldren, Haggard¡¯s fee, and finally Bjorn¡¯s fee. It had all equated to a sizable sum of¡ª

    ¡°You¡¯re saying I risked my life, only to be left with little to no money and a disfigured nose?!¡± Archibald, on the other hand, was not getting paid. That was simply because the elf had not contributed much during the last few months of Yorktown¡¯s development. His payment for helping fight against Gryff? A full four-month stay at the infirmary, with daily hot meals and free care. It was a bit shameless to count that as his payment, but James was running short on coin and he was ready to cut down on costs.

    ¡°You still got that gold from the initial job months ago, quit complaining.¡± Bjorn blew off Archibald¡¯s complaints, which only seemed to infuriate the elf some more. James watched the two mercenaries bicker about pay.

    ¡®Well, guess that means another sword to hire.¡¯

    The clan leader knew that the elf would eventually come to him for work, same as Bjorn the moment the dwarf was fully healed.

    ¡®Another problem for later,¡¯ Faust said.

    ¡°So, does this mean you will all assist me?¡± James called out. He watched as the council members pondered.

    Nora spoke first. ¡°The people of Yorktown do favor you. New Aldren follows you. It would be foolish of me to try to see otherwise. You have my support.¡±

    Otis was next. ¡°I have been a resident on this island for decades. I was born here, and I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll eventually die here. Still, in all my years, I¡¯ve never seen such a change to Yorktown in the matter of mere months. I am hesitant about the future, but I have seen the way the younger folk look up to you and your allies. You have my support, even if I¡¯m cautious of you.¡± The other council members mumble their responses, all of them agreeing with varying levels of excitement and hesitance.

    Finally, Felix was next. He sighed. ¡°I can¡¯t stop you, so I won¡¯t try.¡± The guardsmen locked eyes with James. ¡°I have faith in you. Only because of everything that has happened in these last months. Still, do not take my trust lightly, Holter. The minute I see you endangering this town once again, be sure that I won¡¯t stand idly.¡± As vague as the guardsman¡¯s words were, his nod told James that he had the guardsmen¡¯s support.

    ¡°So, since we¡¯re all on the same page.¡± Harald turned to James, his arms crossed. ¡°What will you do, James? What is the first order of business?¡± Everyone¡¯s eyes turned to James, their focus burning a hole in the young man. James simply grinned, his hand moving to rub at his bearded chin.

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s first focus on the coming weeks,¡± he said. James eyed the decorative flowers that were hung around the longhouse, which signified the end of Frost and the start of a new season.

    ¡°The Bloom Solstice Festival. How are preparations going along?¡±

 B.3 Chapter 6: Bloom

    Alfred set his eyes upon the sprawling city of Lumen, which twinkled below him with the many lights that were put up to celebrate the coming season of Bloom. It was lively, despite the early hours of the morning. The Wizard sighed, his hand moving up to rub at his aging eyes. He had watched this kingdom grow for decades, and every year was a blessing.

    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to stay a bit longer? Enjoy the festival for the night?¡± Alfred spoke out, his head turning around to look upon the armored soldiers and their mounts, the white feather raptors. The raptors were big winged creatures that stood on their hind legs, their winged arms kept close to their chest. Along with their tall stature, they had sharp looking eyes and deadly serrated beaks. Despite decades of being specifically bred to be less violent against Lumen troops, the raptors were still deadly to their riders. Which was why their beaks were strapped shut, their muzzles only coming off whenever it was time to eat. Alfred personally disliked the way they looked, as they gave him a feeling that made it seem like they wanted to gut him open and feast on his insides. Then again, it was probably natural.

    ¡°As much as I would like to stay, this job is much more important,¡± Arthur replied, the aging man currently tightening the muzzle on his raptor. The veteran¡¯s graying hair and trimmed beard signified his age to be closer to Alfred. Yet he moved with the same practice motions as a young knight. The Wizard knew of Arthur¡¯s blessings to be the kind that made his age irrelevant. While it was far from immortality, it was enough to keep the veteran spry and healthy in his late life.

    As for where he got the blessings, the veteran was a former apostle of Delphine, chosen by her holy hand years ago. However, Arthur Clarke was far from a Lumen knight. The strange man had abandoned the goddess¡¯ influence decades ago. He had chosen to walk his own path, despite being a useful asset to the kingdom. Alfred did not know why Arthur chose to keep himself separate from Delphine¡¯s light, but decided not to pry into it any further. All he knew was to keep away from Arthur, as the man emanated a strange foreign aura that bothered even Alfred.

    ¡®Probably for the best he¡¯s not a Lumen Knight,¡¯ Alfred thought.

    ¡°Tough,¡± William chuckled. The man next to Arthur turned to Alfred, a grin visible upon his sun-tanned face. He was clearly in his mid-thirties, yet he spoke and acted like a soldier fresh out of the barracks. ¡°There is always next year, so it¡¯s not much of a loss. Besides, there¡¯s still the Midsommar festival to look forward to!¡±

    William Thatcher was another not associated with Delphine¡¯s light. However, unlike Arthur, William didn¡¯t really have a choice. He bore the symbol of Azlene, the Goddess of Embers. He was her chosen, as decided from a battle he won years back during the height of the Outsider Wars. William still assisted the Lumen Kingdom, however, although not officially as a part of Delphine¡¯s light, since he was the herald of another goddess.

    Both William and Arthur were among the five specialists hired for the particular job of scouting out Valenfrost in search of the source of the ley line fracture. Both of them had ventured throughout Valenfrost, whether as soldiers of war or explorers. Their expertise was needed, as well as their non-association with Delphine¡¯s holy light. Alfred looked upon the rest of the soldiers who were supposed to act as a security detail for the band of Lumen scouts. Alistair had assured Alfred that he had hired two bounty hunters to assist in the scouting. The two hunters would meet the three specialists at Norum, where they will depart and scour the southern islands of Valenfrost.

    ¡®Then again, it¡¯ll probably be two specialists meeting up with them.¡¯

    Alfred frowned. Gwenyth hadn¡¯t arrived yet, and it was worrying the old Wizard.

    ¡®I knew she wouldn¡¯t show up. What was I thinking of recommending her for this job?¡¯

    Alfred chastised himself. He knew she had problems with authority, especially with the Lumen Kingdom. Even though Alfred had contacted her and convinced her to come, he was starting to believe that she had simply lied. He hadn¡¯t seen her since that talk with her via spell crystal.

    ¡®Did she run off?¡¯ Alfred sighed defeatedly.

    ¡°I guess they¡¯ll have to depart without her,¡± he muttered. It was a two-day flight from Lumen to Norum, and he knew the raptors wouldn¡¯t be able to handle Northern Valenfrost¡¯s deadly frosty nights.

    ¡°Alright, it seems like plans have changed. You both should be getting on before the sun rises,¡± Alfred called out to the armored men. He watched as they all nodded, their feet moving to prepare for the journey.

    As the men readied their raptors for flight, the door leading to the roof suddenly opened. Everyone nearby turned in surprise, their gazes focused on what looked to be a woman stepping out of the doors. She wore modified steel armor that made her stand out compared to the basic armor most soldiers wore. For example, her left arm differed completely from her right. Instead of silver pauldrons or gauntlets, her arm was entirely prosthetic. It looked to be made of ceramic, but Alfred himself knew it was stronger than steel. Runes were engraved across its complicated parts, which glowed a soft magical blue. The arm was a bit out of place, yet held a bit of charm to it.

    The rest of her armor glistened despite the lack of light, the engravings and glowing runes engraved onto it reflecting beautifully in the dim morning. The woman¡¯s posture was that befitting of a mercenary, yet her pale flawless skin and silver eyes screamed nobility. Still, despite these features, the one thing everyone was focused on was her flowing silver hair, which was tied up behind her pointed ears. The strange hair had seemed to emit a light of its own, like that of an enchanted rune.

    Alfred knew well who she was and what made her such an important and rare sight. Everyone else seemed to notice as well, as their eyes were focused on her reflective hair and pointed ears. She was a silver-haired elf, a rare species that was thought to be the origin of the common elf and possibly magic all together. They lived for centuries, outliving their distant cousins greatly. Still, despite their long, nearly immortal lives, they had all but nearly died out. The elf here was the last of her kind.

    ¡°Gwenyth Sterling. I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d show up,¡± Arthur greeted.

    ¡°I¡¯m fulfilling a favor for a friend,¡± Gwenyth responded, her eyebrow raising. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be right for me to turn it down,¡± she sighed. Alfred chuckled nervously. He recalled the days of his prime, back when he was a much younger man. He had nearly died saving Gwenyth on a quest and, in return, she had owed him a major favor.

    ¡°Well, to be fair, it is a courtesy long overdue,¡± Alfred said.

    Gwenyth cracked a slight smile, her silver eyes locking onto his. ¡°Never expected it to be this. Hunting down a stranger in the midst of Valenfrost.¡±

    ¡°He is no mere man to smile about. This ¡®stranger¡¯ fractured the ley lines,¡± Arthur commented. Gwenyth¡¯s small smile vanished, her gaze sharply turning over to Arthur.

    ¡°Fracture? Is that even possible?¡±

    ¡°It is, if the ley lines are strained enough,¡± Alfred answered. ¡°My bad for not briefing you all the details on our last call. Time was short.¡±

    Gwenyth¡¯s expression narrowed, her focus now on the elderly Wizard. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure a ley line fracture would be the most crucial detail regarding a mission.¡±

    Alfred internally cringed. It was the most important part of this. Hel, it was the entire reason behind this mission. ¡°Look, Arthur and William here will brief the rest of the details later. As of now, you¡¯ll have to travel to Norum on raptorback.¡± Alfred gestured towards the agitated mounts, all of whom were giving the elf cautious looks, as if they were unable to process what she was. Gwenyth sighed.

    ¡°Fine, but know this,¡± Gwenyth stepped up to the Wizard, her intricate left hand pointing towards Alfred. ¡°If you hide any more details from me, I will tear open a new wound in your back.¡± Alfred shivered from her threat, his old wound tingling from painful remembrance.

    Gwenyth turned to her new party, heading off to mount up on a raptor that was set aside for her. Alfred watched as the party of specialists and guards readied up. He recalled the last time he had seen Gwenyth. She had changed little from then, if at all. The silver-haired elf was still her usual threatening self. Alfred had known her for years, traveled with her back when he was a mage working to earn his Wizard pins.

    ¡®I wonder. Does she still remember?¡¯ Alfred thought woefully. ¡®It is probably for the best if I don¡¯t ever mention it. Besides, I¡¯m going to get a new wound on my back once she finds out the nature of this quest.¡¯

    Alfred sighed, watching the soldiers in front of him prepare for their long journey. Before long, they were already airborne; the raptors calling out in high-pitched whines as they spread their wings. Alfred watched for a while, his focus being on that of the reflective silver hair that flew in the wind. He watched as it grew smaller and smaller, before it soon winked out into the morning sky.

    <hr>

    Yorktown¡¯s streets were lit by the warm light of the many lanterns that were strung about. People walked the cobbled paths, their hands occupied by either food, drink, or a companion. Sometimes, it was all three. The Bloom Festival was a celebration that the people of Valenfrost saw as an excuse to drink heavily, as it was a basic ¡®congrats¡¯ for surviving the harsh cold of Frost.

    However, for the people of Yorktown, it was valued dearly as the people of this town had survived one hell of a cold season. This festival was a perfect excuse for them to let loose after everything they had endured during Frost. Music played out throughout the main courtyard, the small ragtag band using whatever they could as instruments. A broken lute, a makeshift harp, a couple of big pots used as drums, and a flute that was carved mere hours ago. The songs they sang were a mixture of shanties, storytelling hymns, and songs made up on the spot.

    One song, however, caught James Holter¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Here he comes, the man who bears the white raven! Strong and built like a horse, he protects us all and fights!¡±

    ¡°Oh, here he comes, coming to save us all! The raven flies overhead. It looks upon us all!¡±

    ¡°He commands over a terrible spirit. A draugr his enemies call him. He cuts them down and takes their souls. They¡¯ll never fight again!¡±

    ¡°Oh, here he comes, coming to cut you down! Nobody can match him in strength and wit. His fights are absolute!¡±

    James grimaced at the lyrics of said song.

    ¡®Did they just call me a terrible spirit?¡¯ Faust suddenly commented.

    ¡°You¡¯re skipping over the part where they say I take souls?¡± James asked with a mutter. He was amused at the townsfolk¡¯s perception of his own abilities, which were much more mundane in the perspective of the young man. Nearly every fight James had been in was won with the help of his friends.

    ¡®The fact that they are already singing songs about you is strange enough. Usually, the hero dies before their story is sung,¡¯ Faust said.

    James shrugged. ¡°Well, to be completely fair, I¡¯m already halfway there,¡± he reminded the spirit.

    ¡®Good point.¡¯

    James sighed. Bloom had come so fast and sudden that the council had barely any time to prepare properly. He wondered if the quick passage of time resulted from his shortened life-span.

    ¡®Dammit.¡¯

    James shook off those thoughts. It wouldn¡¯t do him any good to be constantly reminded of his fate. He instead focused on the ongoing festival. He watched as people he knew drank and conversed loudly throughout the crowd and the music.

    Bjorn and Haggard were currently trying to out-drink each other. Haggard¡¯s face was as red as it can be while Bjorn simply acted as if the mead he was drinking was mere water. Archibald was nearby and currently ignored the dwarf, his focus being on that of one of the female guards. The guard¡ªElizabeth, James recalled¡ªwas doing her best to let down the elf easily. Unfortunately, Archibald was as dense as a vern tree, his bragging enough to make anyone uncomfortable. James could also spot Lowe in the fold, the gnome seemingly dodgy as he eyed the men and women around him.

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    ¡®I wonder what¡¯s up with him?¡¯ James wondered absentmindedly.

    His eyes caught the gaze of Harald, the veteran resting with a mug of what he could assume was alcohol. He was at the outskirts of all the commotion, same as James. Both men locked gazes for a solid second, before the veteran gave James a slight smile and a nod. James chuckled and nodded back. Harald turned his attention to the festival, his expression reflecting that of solace. James turned back to the festival as well, his focus now being on the slight commotion Helen was making with Seamus. James couldn¡¯t tell what was being said, but the gestures the ex-marauder was making gave a few hints.

    Helen was obviously drunk, evident from her red nose and exaggerated movements. She was swinging around her tankard of booze, her other hand gesturing for Seamus to move. Seamus, however, was not willing to. He looked deathly nervous, his eyes avoiding Helen¡¯s from time to time.

    ¡®Wait, he¡¯s not just avoiding eye contact.¡¯

    James realized Seamus was glancing at Kate, who was currently conversing with a fellow guard.

    ¡®Oh gods, this is priceless.¡¯ Faust guffawed within James¡¯ mind. Helen was looking more and more agitated as time went on.

    Before long, her breaking point was hit. She grabbed at Seamus¡¯ shoulder, drunkenly rambling to him. However, her words could not be heard throughout the music and constant talking of the surrounding people. Still, James could hazard a guess at what she said, since Seamus¡¯ face turned a pale white. The young Halvorson then pleaded to Helen as she made her way to Kate. Thankfully, his pleas weren¡¯t unheard. Helen stopped and turned to Seamus with an expression that clearly signified that Seamus had one more chance to reconsider. After what James could assume was a compromise, Seamus finally made his first steps towards the young guardswoman.

    James leaned forward, ready to watch what was about to happen.

    ¡°What are you doing this far from the celebrations?¡± A voice suddenly caught James¡¯ attention. He turned, only to see Dahlia. The shaman was dressed in her traditional clothing, reminiscent of the first time James had met her. Necklaces of different varieties hung around her neck, showcasing makeshift talismans and trinkets. She wore bracelets of blue beads and white bone, which made jingling noises as her arms moved. Her tunic¡¯s sleeves were rolled to reveal her runic tattoos, which wrapped around her forearms and snaked their way up her arm. Dahlia¡¯s hair was pinned back to allow her eyes to see. Her hair¡¯s short length made it nigh impossible for Dahlia to tie it up into the multiple buns she had before, so her traditional look took considerably less time to prepare. James noted the way her amber-colored eyes glinted in the torchlight, a sight that hypnotized him.

    ¡°Hey, are you listening?¡± Dahlia asked. Her fingers snapped quickly, as if to get James¡¯ attention. The blond man blinked, realizing that he was distracted.

    ¡°Yeah, I was just a little distracted,¡± he admitted.

    Dahlia laughed. ¡°Did I overdo it?¡± she asked. ¡°I knew I shouldn¡¯t have over prepared this time¡­¡±

    ¡°No, no, it¡¯s fine. You look great!¡± James assured the shaman. Dahlia raised an eyebrow at James, but her smile remained.

    ¡°Well, that eases my worries a bit,¡± she breathed out. James smiled, his eyes running over the shaman¡¯s outfit.

    ¡°Still, is it all necessary?¡± he asked. Dahlia¡¯s expression turned that of suspicion.

    ¡°Really?¡± Dahlia sighed. ¡°It¡¯s tradition, James. These talismans and markings are used to ward off any unwelcome spirits.¡±

    ¡°Spirits?¡± James asked.

    ¡°During Bloom and Midsommar, the barrier between the spirit world and the living becomes weak. It is the result of the gods changing the seasons of Azura so drastically from Frost to Sommar. It is why people will usually use this time to give offerings to their ancestors and dead family members,¡± Dahlia explained.

    James thought back to the beginning of the festival, back when he had watched the townsfolk construct a small shrine at the town¡¯s edge. He had seen many give their offerings to it, all while speaking to the shrine as if it was a person. He had never connected the Bloom Solstice to it, whether it be from stress or too much on his plate.

    ¡°During this time, we shamans wear these garments,¡± Dahlia continued. ¡°It is to keep away the terrible spirits that threaten to ruin this time of celebration, all while allowing the harmless and wandering spirits to come and spend this time with their living family.¡±

    James nodded, his eyes moving to the shrine that was still visible from the outskirts of the courtyard. He could see the many offerings of food, bottles, gold, and even swords. He could feel his heart itch in remembrance of his father¡¯s small shrine back on Earth. James used to place his father¡¯s ashes on that small makeshift shrine in his old apartment room. Every year on his birthday, he would place an item of importance on it to pay respects. Whether it be a candy bar his father enjoyed, a piece of the woods he had taken pleasure in camping in, or a bottle of liquor the man drank whenever the occasion arose.

    James tried to recall how long it had been since he had paid respects. His body tensed up at the thought. He had realized what today was. James wasn¡¯t the best at math, but he could figure things out when given the chance. It had been months since his initial summoning to Valenfrost. Most of his days were blurred and merged. Still, the seasons here were somewhat similar to Earth, albeit different in some ways.

    James turned to Dahlia, his cheeks burning a little. ¡°It¡¯s my birthday today,¡± he revealed. ¡°At least, sometime around today,¡± he admitted. James¡¯ birthday was a couple of weeks before the spring solstice back on Earth. Adjusting with Valenfrost¡¯s janky calendar and lack of leap years, James¡¯ birthday landed around the Bloom Solstice.

    ¡°Oh? It is?¡± Dahlia¡¯s brow raised in surprise.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he confirmed.

    ¡°How many years?¡± she prodded, now somewhat interested.

    ¡°I doubt it matters honestly, with how much time I have left.¡± James chuckled, brushing away the topic. He then noticed the expression on Dahlia¡¯s face. Her previous cheery self was now different, her brow furrowed and her smile gone.

    James quickly backtracked, his heart dropping at the realization that he let his tongue slip. ¡°Ah um, twenty-six,¡± he answered. ¡°I¡¯m twenty-six now.¡±

    Dahlia let out a breath, her smile slowly returning. ¡°Funny, I took you as older.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± James asked, his pride slowly crumbling behind his smile.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m just jostling with you,¡± Dahlia chuckled. ¡°Still, I wonder why you¡¯re all the way out here, away from everyone.¡± She gestured towards the ongoing festival nearby. ¡°Everyone is having fun. Why aren¡¯t you out there with your friends and allies?¡±

    James sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure, to be honest.¡± He turned to the festival, watching as Seamus and Kate converse, their cheeks tinted red. Helen was beyond drunk, doing her best to stand up straight whilst also parading around with Haggard. Bjorn was sharing drinks with Lowe, who was on the verge of falling down. Even Felix was having fun, the guardsman eating his fill at a nearby table full of food and steaming broth. The music had changed as well, now much louder as more men with instruments joined in.

    They all deserved this night. Most of the people here had risked their lives for Yorktown and for James. Many had lost people they knew. James himself had also more than deserved this night, yet he still kept away from it, instead opting to watch from the sidelines.

    ¡°I think¡­ I think some part of me doesn¡¯t think I deserve this,¡± James muttered.

    Dahlia blinked. ¡°What are you saying?¡± she asked in disbelief.

    ¡°In a way, I caused everything bad that has happened to us. I was the reason behind every Yorktown raid¡­ I brought those knights here, I brought that abomination to life, I was the reason why¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop,¡± Dahlia suddenly interrupted.

    ¡°Shut up now and listen to me.¡± Dahlia grabbed at both of James¡¯ hands. ¡°You are not responsible. Even if you were, then that means Seamus and I are also at fault. I brought you back to life. Seamus washed up here. I fractured the ley lines. Seamus brought the marauders.¡±

    James frowned. ¡°But¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut it,¡± Dahlia silenced him. ¡°Back with the marauders, you stood up to them and bought everyone time. Because of you, we didn¡¯t have to resort to sacrificing Seamus. You saved him and rallied the town.¡± She squeezed his palms.

    ¡°We kicked their ass and killed that abomination. Even when those knights came, you held your resolve. You did what you thought was best. Hel, I would even argue that you made the right choice. We stopped the spread of those abominations and that ¡®disease¡¯. You rallied an entire crew for our ship within a single day. Even after that, you inspired a group of mercenaries and a whole town!¡± Dahlia¡¯s smile grew with every word, her voice full of admiration.

    ¡°You fought off those orc bastards at Aldren! You fought back against Gryff even when it could¡¯ve meant certain death! You and Faust are both amazing! You both risked yourselves and fought to near death. Yet after all of that, you still think of yourself as unworthy of a night of celebration?¡±

    James stared at Dahlia for a few seconds, his cheeks burning hot. He had doubted himself for so long, even though she had thought the world of him.

    ¡°I¡­ I never knew you felt that way,¡± he responded finally.

    ¡°Well, now you do,¡± Dahlia let out a small laugh. ¡°Please, let¡¯s enjoy this night.¡± Her hands tugged at James lightly. The young man couldn¡¯t help but smile, his head giving a slight nod.

    ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s.¡±

    Both the shaman and the man from Earth joined the festival ahead of them. James could feel how Dahlia¡¯s fingers intertwined with his, her amber eyes locking onto his as they walked through the many townsfolk who were busy drinking and singing along.

    It didn¡¯t take long for James to get a drink in his hand, his world slightly spinning as he sipped from his horn full of mead. He didn¡¯t even know where it came from, only that at some point, he had it. Dahlia herself was getting her fair share of drink as her nose turned pink. They both stuck together despite the movement of the crowd. Still, there were times when their clasped hands were nearly separated. Such an example was when Helen burst through the crowd like a woman on fire, her sickly-looking face telling James that she had one too many. Following quickly behind her was Seamus, who held a bucket.

    The night continued to progress, with James and Dahlia trying out the many foods the townsfolk had prepared for the festival. Meat pies, smoked fish, tasty broth, and even a strange meat James couldn¡¯t place his finger on. It was delicious, nonetheless. By the time they had sampled everything, James was still hungering for more.

    ¡°How can you still eat? I feel as if I¡¯m about to burst!¡± Dahlia exclaimed with a laugh as she watched James wolf down a piece of pie.

    Truth be told, James was holding back on his hunger. Anytime food was present, the young man ate as if it was his last meal.

    ¡®It¡¯s one of the many side effects of having another spirit inhabit my body,¡¯ James thought as he swallowed.

    ¡®More! Get more of the apple pastry! Gods, is it heavenly!¡¯ Faust exclaimed hungrily, making it clear to the young man that the spirit was currently experiencing the world through James¡¯ senses. James chuckled, ignoring Faust as he shrugged at Dahlia.

    ¡°What can I say? It¡¯s good food!¡± he called out through the loud commotion of voices and shouts.

    The shaman laughed at that. ¡°Well, it is to be expected, considering you have Faust in you. Two spirits are sure to build up an appetite.¡±

    James couldn¡¯t help but laugh with her. ¡°Well then, what should we¨C?¡± James started, before halting. The music had suddenly changed, with the band of townsfolk reaching a crescendo. He turned to the source of the instrument players, watching as they started the music again in a slow steady beat, which slowly hastened.

    Dahlia¡¯s eyes sparked, her hand pulling at James. ¡°Should we dance?¡± she asked in an excited tone.

    ¡°I mean, I¡¯m a terrible dancer¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just follow my movements,¡± Dahlia interrupted, her hands dragging James to the center of the courtyard, where most of the townsfolk danced along to the steady beat, their feet stomping on the ground in sync as they clapped.

    James felt Dahlia¡¯s hands bring him closer to her. He could smell the faint scent of incense on her, along with traces of smoke and mead.

    ¡°Stomp your feet like me,¡± she instructed, her right foot stomping on the cobbled ground a couple of times before she switched over to her left. James followed, his gaze focusing on her movements. ¡°Don¡¯t look down. You¡¯ll get too distracted. Listen to the beat,¡± she spoke.

    James nodded, his eyes moving back to hers. She smiled softly.

    ¡°Now clap your hands every two stomps and grab my waist like an actual man when you¡¯re done,¡± Dahlia teased. James did as instructed, grinning as he stomped and clapped. Dahlia giggled. ¡°Now, we spin slowly as the beat raises,¡± she continued. James nodded and slowly got used to the strange dance.

    The drums in the background picked up, and with it, James moved faster. Before long, both the shaman and young man were dancing like naturals, their movements quickening to the point where James felt as if his hands and feet were going to go numb. The drums then reached their peak, before the musicians shouted out in celebration a word James didn¡¯t understand. The entire crowd cheered and shouted the word back before the music went back to a normal tempo.

    ¡°What did they say?¡± James asked in confusion.

    ¡°Vriska,¡± Dahlia revealed. ¡°An old quote from a forgotten language. It is also a saying from Orpheus, God of Alcohol and Music. It means ¡®May our lives have joy¡¯,¡± she explained.

    ¡°A lot of words coming from something so short.¡±

    ¡°To be fair, the rest of the saying had been lost to time. Vriska is basically a shortened version of it.¡±

    James smiled. ¡°Well, I wish you a happy Vriska.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not how it works,¡± Dahlia laughed, her eyes glinting in the warm lighting. James found himself hypnotized once more in Dahlia¡¯s amber irises. He slowed his dancing a little, his hands pulling her waist a little closer. Dahlia bit her lip.

    ¡°I wish this moment could last forever,¡± she muttered.

    ¡°Me too,¡± James whispered. He leaned in closer to the shaman, his eyes closing as he guided her chin upwards. The two kissed, all while ignoring the surrounding commotion. Right now, James was in his own little bubble, accompanied only by Dahlia.

    It was pure bliss.

 B.3 Chapter 7: Dangers of the North

    The night was at its peak, the cold of Valenfrost nearly enough to freeze the moisture in the air. Black waters lapped against the hull of the traveling ship, its painted wood signifying it as part of the Lumen Kingdom. In some parts of Valenfrost, the simple symbol of the Delphine was enough to repel any trouble out of fear of starting an unnecessary conflict. Still, to some, the symbol was nothing more than a painted target. It was one of the things the captain of this ship was worried about.

    Colm sighed tiredly, his fingers moving to rub at his eyes. His ship, the Desroc, had been sailing for nearly two weeks straight. Initially, their voyage was supposed to be finished just a day before Bloom. Unfortunately, bandits and orc ships made it near impossible for Desroc to arrive at its intended destination. While Colm was sure his crew could hold off most bandits, he didn¡¯t want to risk running into dangerous marauders or risk his cargo. However, if it was up to Colm, he would dump the ship¡¯s contents overboard. Despite its ordinary appearance, the Desroc was not an ordinary vessel. The galleon held cargo that consisted of food, supplies, and convicted criminals who were slated to be imprisoned or executed at Norum.

    Most of the prisoners were former bandits or marauders, turned in by bounty at major cities across Valenfrost. The Desroc had been on its normal journey, transporting said prisoners over the black sea with minimal stops to assure no escape attempts were made. Two guard ships usually accompanied the transport vessel, but the situation had quickly changed these past few days. For starters, the guardships were driven off by heavy storms and fast moving bandits, leading to the Desroc to go on ahead without them. This resulted in the ship becoming stranded in Northern Valenfrost, with only their compass and an incomplete map to guide them to Norum.

    Still, that was the least of Colm¡¯s worries. His thoughts wandered to the dangers that the North held. He heard the stories about the Red Death, the abominable creatures that lurked in the water, clans of cannibals that preyed on lone ships, and the insane followers of chaos that hunted for the strange and dangerous. Colm looked up at the cloudy night sky, his eyes spotting what looked to be a raven, its silhouette visible thanks to the sister moon Luna¡¯s soft light.

    ¡®A raven out here. I wonder if we are closer to land than we would¡¯ve thought.¡¯

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to worry about,¡± a soft and unfamiliar voice spoke out from behind Colm. The captain turned quickly, his hand already on his small, hidden dagger.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you,¡± he muttered. Standing behind Colm was a man in dark clothing. A cloak covered most of his attire, leaving mainly his wrapped hands visible. A scarf also covered the lower part of his face, leaving only his pale forehead and nose visible. This stranger was a passenger on the Desroc, who had hitched a ride on this vessel in hopes of reaching Norum for some official business. Colm could guess his intentions, as he recognized the small silver pin that signified this stranger as a veteran Bounty Hunter.

    ¡°Milo was it?¡± Colm asked. The strange man nodded, a sigh coming out soon after.

    ¡°I take it you¡¯re out here to get some fresh air?¡± Milo asked with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°Yeah, fresh air.¡± Colm muttered in response. As cold as the night was, Colm would rather spend most of his time on deck rather than in his quarters. Truth was, the stench of the prison barge was more than enough for the captain. Despite his many years of transporting prisoners, he could never get used to that smell. He¡¯d rather freeze his arse out here rather than spend another sleepless night below deck.

    ¡°It¡¯s quiet,¡± Milo spoke, his eyes narrowing. Colm raised an eyebrow before he turned to the bounty hunter.

    ¡°Is that a problem?¡± The captain could feel his heartbeat raise a little. The bounty hunter before him had more experience out in this territory. In fact, Milo had saved their asses on more than one occasion, making his word valuable as gold.

    ¡°Listen,¡± the cloaked man said. Colm swallowed nervously, his focus turning back to the sea. There didn¡¯t seem to be anything strange about the night, the only sound being the waves hitting against Desroc¡¯s hull.

    ¡®Wait. The sound of the wind.¡¯

    Other than the waters, the air was a near dead quiet. Normally, it wouldn¡¯t have raised any alarms for the old captain, since there were times when the sea had turned into a deadly quiet. The thing was, however, was that their ship was in the northern seas, where nocturnal birds of prey were about and silverheads splashed audibly against the waves. Winds were also more than normal in the northern islands, especially during the nighttime.

    Colm had never taken the quiet as a sign of something strange, as he was more accustomed to the southern and central parts of Valenfrost. Down there, quiet nights were more than a sign of solace rather than a warning of something going wrong.

    ¡®I¡¯m a damn fool for easing up my guard like this,¡¯ Colm thought with gritted teeth.

    ¡°There¡¯s a vessel out there,¡± Milo suddenly muttered.

    Colm¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°A vessel? Pirates?¡± He was damn near ready to sound the alarm, his hand already reaching for his naval dagger. Milo raised a hand, stopping Colm mid-movement.

    ¡°It¡¯s not another brig. Listen.¡±

    Colm stared at Milo in disbelief, but knew better than to question the hunter. Colm focused his hearing once again, closing his eyes this time. He could only hear the sound of water hitting his ship.

    ¡®What is Milo saying? The ambience hasn¡¯t changed.¡¯

    Colm frowned. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. Only then did the captain realize that there was also the sound of water hitting the hull of something else. The much distant sound had been drowned out by the waves that struck Desroc.

    ¡°It¡¯s a boat,¡± Colm realized out loud.

    ¡°It¡¯s out there,¡± Milo confirmed.

    ¡°Go get the men,¡± the captain ordered, his hands moving to grab a nearby torch. The bounty hunter did as asked without complaint, his figure moving to the hatch nearby. Colm hurried to the bow of the ship, where the sound was coming from. He raised his torch out as far as he could, hoping to spot the small vessel.

    ¡°Anyone out there?!¡± he shouted. Colm immediately chastised himself after. For all he knew, he could be calling out to stranded orcs or a boat full of raiders. Before he could curse at his own stupidity, a voice called out in response,

    ¡°Yes! Please help! My arms tire and I cannot see out here!¡± It was the sound of a young man in trouble, his desperation clear in his words.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry! We¡¯ll get you out in no time!¡± Colm shouted out. ¡°Follow the torchlight!¡± He could hear how the hatch behind him opened, followed by the many steps of his crew. It would be no time before they save the young man and his vessel.

    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t see it!¡± The man shouted. ¡°They blinded me! I can¡¯t see!¡± Colm blinked in surprise. His men had already come to his side, their hands carrying rope and runestones with castings of flare and candlelight. Colm gestured for them to get ready. All the while, he continued talking.

    ¡°Blinded? Who blinded you?¡±

    ¡°It was them! The Marauders of the North!¡±

    <hr>

    Colm looked down at the young man in front of him. His clothes were burnt and slashed, bruised and injured skin exposed to the heavy air of the Desroc¡¯s interior. They were currently in the crew¡¯s quarters, one deck above the prison. The kid in front of the captain wore a dirty blindfold, dried blood staining it. Colm could see the burn marks underneath the dirty rag. Fire had possibly led to this poor man losing his sight. He turned to the ship¡¯s doctor, who was currently bandaging the young man¡¯s arm.

    ¡°Any infection? Magic effects?¡±

    ¡°None,¡± the doctor responded. ¡°He¡¯s lucky his eyes are all that got seriously injured. Judging from these marks, he was hit with a spell¨C¡± The doctor was about to lift the blindfold, before the young man slapped the hand.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t. It hurts so much,¡± he whimpered.

    ¡°If we don¡¯t examine it, we can¡¯t heal you completely.¡±

    ¡°Doc, let the kid be,¡± Colm instructed.

    The doctor sighed. ¡°Fine. We can check it out later when we reach Norum¡¯s port.¡± He stood up. ¡°But if he shows signs of a fever¨C¡±

    ¡°Understood. We¡¯ll let you know,¡± Colm waved off the doctor, who frustratingly shook his head as he walked away. The captain ignored him. He grabbed a nearby crate, pulling it close so he could sit on it. He focused on the injured man, who had come to the Desroc on a leaking rowboat with nothing more than scars, a blindfold, and a broken oar he used to prop himself up.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name, kid?¡± Colm asked.

    ¡°Eli¡­¡±

    ¡°Eli, can you tell me what happened?¡± Colm inquired. The young man in front of him seemed to hesitate, his hands gripping tightly onto his makeshift walking stick.

    ¡°The ship I was on was attacked. At first, all our lanterns and torches were blown out. We couldn¡¯t make sense of the situation and by the time we realized we were being raided, it was too late¡­¡± Eli shivered. ¡°They came under the cover of darkness. We stood little a chance. I was hit with a spell when I tried to flee on a rowboat. It burned for hours and I couldn¡¯t see.¡± Eli gestured to his blindfold. ¡°I don¡¯t know much after that. Only that I kept rowing into the sea, hoping to get away from it all.¡±

    Colm nodded. ¡°I see.¡± He turned to his navigator, who sat amongst the surrounding men. ¡°Go to Alf and get him to change course. There¡¯s a good chance we might be in marauder territory.¡±

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Yessir.¡± The navigator moved to grab a roll of parchment nearby as well as a compass before he headed out to go talk with the wheelman.

    ¡°Milo, you have more experience dealing with marauders. Go and advise the men on making this ship undetectable as possible.¡± Colm turned to the bounty hunter.

    Milo raised an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯ve slipped under other ship¡¯s watches, but this vessel is a much different story compared to the longships I¡¯ve been on. Still, I¡¯ll do my best.¡± Milo turned and walked off.

    Eli perked his head up. ¡°What kind of ship is this? It feels much more vast than the other ships I¡¯ve been on.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re worried about those marauders coming for us for our cargo, then you¡¯re sorely mistaken,¡± the captain revealed.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± the young man asked in confusion.

    Colm chuckled at Eli¡¯s cluelessness. ¡°This is a prison brig. We carry only criminals and basic supplies. Even then, they¡¯re not worth a damn thing.¡± Colm spat at the deck.

    ¡°So why do you keep them on your ship?¡± Eli asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s our job,¡± Colm sighed. ¡°We get paid to transport them to Norum¡¯s dungeons, where they¡¯ll rot for the rest of their lives, depending on how their trials go,¡± he muttered. ¡°Waste of time if you asked me.¡±

    ¡°More like a waste of good coin!¡± a crew member called out from his cot.

    ¡°Transporting rapists and killers across the black sea is more than a waste of coin. It¡¯s a waste of food and medicine,¡± one man remarked.

    ¡°Damn right,¡± Colm chuckled out. He could understand where the crew was coming from. The prisoners below were to be fed and properly taken care of, as ordered by King Gareth himself. Colm did not know why the Lumen Kingdom bothered to take responsibility for Valenfrost¡¯s criminals, nor why they put in so much effort into keeping these wastes of space alive.

    ¡°If it were up to me, I¡¯d throw them off my ship,¡± he commented, earning a laugh from his men.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you give them up to a clan?¡± a calm voice cut through the laughter. Colm blinked. He turned to Eli, who was calm and still. He no longer writhed in pain, nor picked at his bandages. Eli was simply calm.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Colm asked.

    ¡°I mean, you could sell them off to other clans. I¡¯m sure they would appreciate the extra manpower given the current state of affairs in the south. Hel, I bet they¡¯ll give you more coin than the Lumen Kingdom,¡± Eli explained in a ¡®matter of fact¡¯ tone.

    Colm stared at the young man, who now oozed with a sense of uneasiness. ¡°We¡¯re not selling them off to anyone,¡± he responded quietly.

    Eli chuckled. ¡°Ah, I see. Well, that makes it harder.¡±

    Colm could feel a shiver run down his spine. He glanced at his men, who all seemed unnerved as well.

    ¡°Oh! I have an idea. Why don¡¯t I take them off your hands?¡± Eli offered. Colm could swear the blind man was looking at him, despite having no apparent sight.

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Colm asked, his hand subtly moving to his belt.

    Eli¡¯s smile slowly dissipated. ¡°I¡¯m saying that I¡¯m going to take these men off your hands and walk away. Unless, of course, you¡¯re going to use that dagger on me.¡±

    Colm stopped midway through, grabbing at his weapon. ¡°What the¡ª¡±

    ¡°Make your choice wisely, captain. There are two ways this could play out, none of them in your favor,¡± Eli murmured.

    Colm swallowed. He was only a couple of feet away from Eli. He could easily overpower the runt with ease. From his perspective, Colm had the upper hand. There was no way Eli could stop him. Yet¡­

    ¡°Captain, you best make your choice. Use that dagger, and you and your men¡¯s safety will be forfeited,¡± Eli warned.

    Colm gritted his teeth. ¡°You think you can scare me? I¡¯ve dealt with runts like you before. Thinking you have the upper hand.¡±

    Eli chuckled at Colm¡¯s words. ¡°Really? You dealt with people like me?¡± The blind man laughed heartily. Colm felt his temper snap, his feet propelling him towards Eli at full speed. Colm never got to pull his dagger out.

    A bright flash came out of nowhere, blinding Colm and disorienting him. The effects were on par with the flare casting. Yet there was no indication that Eli even muttered the spell¡¯s name, let alone cast it. Through the ringing in his ears, the captain could hear the sounds of something piercing flesh, followed by the crew¡¯s screams.

    ¡°Agh! Bastard!¡± Colm screamed as he swung blindly. His strikes were interrupted when the deck suddenly lurched to the side. He heard the telltale sound of a ship¡¯s hull being scraped against. Colm blinked rapidly, only to see Eli¡¯s oar pointed directly at him.

    ¡°There is no one like me.¡±

    Colm could feel his body seize up, his muscles tense as his balance was lost. He fell to the ground, hard. Colm was paralyzed head to toe, his gaze fixed and his eyes unable to close. He couldn¡¯t speak or move. Even breathing was difficult.

    ¡®He cast that spell without speaking the name or forming runes.¡¯

    That wasn¡¯t normal. From his limited knowledge, even high-ranking Wizards needed to speak words of power when casting spells. Staffs and other magical tools made it easier, but it didn¡¯t eliminate that hurdle. Somehow, someway, Eli could cast spells without uttering a word or forming so much of a sign with his fingers.

    Colm struggled to move, his eyes focused on the young man in front of him. Blood stained his clothes and staff, prompting the captain to look for his crew. He wished he didn¡¯t. The crew¡¯s bodies were littered around the barracks, their torsos punctured with gaping wounds. Eli sighed, his oar tapping against the stained ground. The blind man then transformed in front of Colm, his clothes glowing as they transformed into silk black robes and armored plates.

    ¡®Illusion magic,¡¯ he realized. ¡®Advanced at that. We couldn¡¯t tell it was fake even when we touched him.¡¯

    Colm focused on the blind man¡¯s blackened breastplate, where a red handprint was visible.

    Eli chuckled. ¡°I told you that you wouldn¡¯t win.¡±

    ¡°Eli! Are they disposed of?¡± a booming voice rang out from outside. Colm couldn¡¯t move his gaze, so he was stuck watching as Eli answered back,

    ¡°Captain is paralyzed. Everyone else here is dead.¡±

    ¡°Quick and clean. Nicely done,¡± the boisterous voice called out. Colm could hear heavy footsteps as they descended the stairs.

    Soon, Colm was met with the sight of a tall man in black plate armor. He wore a coarse fur pelt that swept back as if it was a cape, revealing his black steel plate armor that was clearly enchanted with runes. He was followed by a couple more men in black leather armor, their chests also stained with a red handprint. The tall one surveyed the room.

    ¡°I came in at the nick of time, eh?¡± he muttered.

    ¡°I was handling it,¡± Eli responded.

    One of the other men in leather armor grumbled. ¡°It would¡¯ve been faster to raid this ship.¡±

    ¡°Then we would risk the cargo.¡±

    The supposed leader smiled at Eli¡¯s quick response. He slowly nodded. ¡°It was a good call, Eli. It would do us no good if we accidentally killed off half our potential recruits.¡± His sea-green eyes then seemed to spot Colm, who was still paralyzed on the ground.

    ¡®Oh shit,¡¯ Colm thought in a panic.

    This man¡¯s gaze was enough to strike fear in the captain¡¯s heart. After a solid couple of seconds of staring, the big man grinned.

    ¡°The captain I presume?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yes sir,¡± Eli confirmed.

    ¡°Will he tell us everything?¡±

    ¡°Once I get it out of him.¡±

    ¡°Good man, another job well done.¡±

    The giant knelt down, his hand moving to grab at Colm¡¯s hair. He lifted the captain¡¯s head in a way so they could meet eye to eye.

    ¡°Hello friend.¡± The man grinned. ¡°You probably want to know my name. I go by many nowadays, some more infamous than others. For you, however, I¡¯ll introduce myself with my more commonly known name. I am Deimos,¡± he introduced himself rather formally. ¡°It is a shame we have to meet like this. Unfortunately, my friend, you drew the short stick,¡± Deimos explained. ¡°We are going to have a nice long chat once we get this ship to port.¡±

    ¡®The Red Death himself?! Why is he here?!¡¯ Colm could feel his heartbeat rise with every second.

    ¡°Deimos, I am sorry to intrude,¡± a woman¡¯s voice called out. Deimos dropped Colm to the ground, his gaze turning to the voice.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°The bounty hunter that was on this ship, he¡¯s nowhere to be seen. We believe he has gotten away on a spare boat.¡±

    Deimos sighed as he stood. ¡°He is gone?¡±

    ¡°Yes. The wheelman says he had seen the hunter run off but does not know where he went. Cecil says that one of the rowboats is gone, meaning that he would have escaped. Should we start a search?¡± the woman asked.

    ¡°There is no need, Ivana.¡± Deimos responded, his eyes scanning the deck. ¡°He¡¯s still on the ship. A smart hunter like him would know that escaping is futile.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± the marauder woman¡¯s voice soon turned into a shout, ¡°Hey! Get your asses searching the lower decks. The hunter is still here!¡±

    Deimos let out a breath, his hand moving to sweep back his hair. ¡°I don¡¯t think he is hiding down there.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Deimos¡¯ grin slowly returned to his lips, his gaze moving around. ¡°In fact, I think he is much closer. Almost as if he is¡­¡± Deimos¡¯ hand suddenly shot like an arrow towards the shadows behind him. ¡°Right with us!¡±

    In an instant, a man appeared in his grip, a dagger falling to the ground.

    ¡®I couldn¡¯t make out his movements. He just¡­ moved.¡¯

    Colm stared in horror and surprise. He had only made out Deimos¡¯ blurred hand when it grabbed Milo.

    ¡°Shadow Step. What a cowardly casting,¡± Deimos muttered. ¡°What were you planning to do with that dagger? Don¡¯t tell me you were trying to assassinate me?¡± The Red Death laughed heartily.

    ¡°Fuck¡­ you,¡± Milo managed out in breaths.

    ¡°I will give you my praise. You¡¯re one of the few people who tried to go against me despite the odds. Still¡­¡± Deimos¡¯ hands moved to grab at the hunter¡¯s skull from the sides, leaving the pale man¡¯s body hanging like a doll. Colm watched in horror as Milo suddenly screamed, his feet kicking as he tried to pry Deimos¡¯ hands away.

    ¡°Aside from one person, you will never have a second chance to try again,¡± Deimos muttered before his hands pressed further. Colm could see how Milo¡¯s head was slowly crushed, his screams enough to echo throughout the entire ship.

    ¡°When you see that whore, Delphine, tell her to hire all the bounty hunters she wants for her quests. I¡¯ll kill them all and be waiting for her champion,¡± Deimos stated. Colm couldn¡¯t look away, no matter how hard he tried. He mentally screamed at himself to move, but the paralyzing spell overrode his own instincts. He could only watch as Milo was slowly crushed to death. His screams soon turned to gargling, before to weak begs of mercy, and finally, nothing.

    It had only lasted for a minute, but it felt like an eternity for Colm.

    ¡®I¡¯m in hel. This is hel.¡¯

    He stared at the Red Death, who had tossed the hunter¡¯s corpse aside as if it was nothing.

    ¡°Eli, get the captain¡¯s keys. Ivana, get Cecil to steer this galleon to the fort.¡± Deimos waved his hand towards his subordinates, who all nodded and went to work. Colm watched as Eli gestured for some of the other men in leather armor to come. They picked up the captain, dragging him off after the blind man pocketed the keys.

    ¡°Keep him alive,¡± Eli spoke out. ¡°We will need him soon.¡±

    Colm desperately wished this was a nightmare. One spawned from a bad batch of booze. He wished he would wake up soon, to see the Desroc arrive at its destination at Norum¡¯s harbor. Unfortunately for the captain, his wishes would go unanswered as he was dragged off to the upper decks.

 B.3 Chapter 8: Training Day

    James frowned as he looked down at the remainders of the clan¡¯s coffers. It was sparse, with only a couple bags of silver coins and a single pouch of valdoras to cover it.

    ¡°At this rate, we¡¯re going to be broke in no time,¡± James muttered.

    ¡°Worse, we¡¯ll have no protection and means of feeding ourselves,¡± Seamus said, his hand pressing a wet rag to his head. The young man was hungover from the night before, his tired eyes avoiding the light from outside.

    ¡°James, we¡¯re going to have to find a much more stable form of income. Pillaging bandit ships and turning in bounties is not going to cover an entire clan of people,¡± Dahlia pointed out, her yawn soon following.

    James groaned. ¡°I know. It¡¯s just difficult to think of ways for money.¡±

    The three were currently in the longhouse, where they kept the clan¡¯s funds hidden and protected by Yorktown¡¯s guard.

    ¡°Does this mean I¡¯m not getting paid?¡± Bjorn¡¯s voice sounded out. The dwarf was sitting nearby, his hand carrying that brass flask he always drank out of. He was the reason why the three were checking up on the coffers, as it was the time of the month when the dwarf¡¯s payment was due.

    ¡°Well¡­¡± James chuckled nervously.

    Bjorn guffawed. ¡°It¡¯s no problem. I have no need for booze money anymore. I already got enough saved up for whatever I like anyway.¡± The mercenary shrugged.

    ¡°No need for alcohol? Is that flask filled with tea?¡± James prodded.

    Bjorn laughed even harder at that. ¡°Gods no! Tea! Why would I ever drink that crap on my own time?¡± The dwarf narrowed his focus on James. ¡°I never said I gave up on the booze. Only that I have no need for beer money.¡±

    James frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Bjorn sighed. He raised his flask and shook it. ¡°I have no need to buy it. I can brew my own now thanks to the merchants who sold me the necessary equipment.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you can brew your own alcohol?¡± James asked.

    He turned to the dwarf, who sighed, ¡°Yes, I can. With the right equipment, of course.¡±

    ¡°Never took you for a brewer,¡± James commented.

    ¡°I am a man of many talents,¡± Bjorn said with a grin.

    ¡°At least that¡¯s one weight off my shoulders.¡± James turned back to his friends, who were double checking the pouches of spare silver. ¡°How did the town council originally earn coin?¡± he asked.

    Dahlia raised her head. ¡°They taxed the merchants who sold on the port. The marketplace is where most of their funds come from.¡±

    James nodded, knowing this fully well. Of course, that tax money was not available to him and his clan. Since the council was technically separate, their funds were as well. Not just that, but business by the docks was slow. Very few merchants visited the isolated island that Yorktown was situated on.

    This was because Yorktown¡¯s waters were infamous hunting grounds for bandits. However, that was before the marauders. At least during the bandit days, there were at least some traders visiting the lone island. Granted, they apparently charged high for their stock and only came once every blue moon, but it was at least something.

    Once Deimos had made his presence in Yorktown, merchants had outright refused to sail near the island. Of course, this had a near identical effect on any nearby bandits. For the first half of the Frost season, rarely any ship visited the small town or even neared its waters. It changed over the months and now there were merchants visiting and trading, but in much fewer numbers than before. This also included a resurgence of bandit ships that preyed on the southern waters, making even more trouble for any traders passing through.

    In short, business was slow. James had already taken care of the nearby bandits thanks to the help of Silas and Frostbite¡¯s crew, but it had done little to increase the traffic to Yorktown. It had seemed that people were too paranoid to sail through.

    ¡®Unless¡­¡¯ James furrowed his brow, his hand moving to rub at his chin. Seamus raised an eyebrow at that.

    ¡°I know that look. You just got an idea that¡¯s probably insane,¡± the young man realized aloud. He frowned at James. ¡°Let me guess, we¡¯ll fight every bandit in the south and force merchants here at sword point?¡±

    ¡°Of course not,¡± James replied. ¡°That¡¯s our backup plan.¡± He grinned.

    Dahlia and Seamus both stared at James with tired looks.

    ¡°Kidding,¡± James refuted quickly. ¡°I do have a legitimate plan, and it doesn¡¯t involve fighting with people miles above our league. Hopefully.¡±

    His friends narrowed their eyes once more, their arms crossing.

    ¡°Kidding!¡±

    <hr>

    Harald crossed his arms, his eyes avoiding the clouded sunlight. Despite not drinking much last night, he was still hungover.

    ¡®How did James recover so quickly?¡¯

    His thoughts went to the young man, who had just finished his basic exercises that morning. James had been fresh as a daisy while his fellow trainees were slogging behind.

    ¡®Perhaps it has something to do with Faust.¡¯

    Harald had heard about men who had abilities that constantly sapped their energy. As a result, they had to eat more and make sure they didn¡¯t overextend themselves. It was possible that housing Faust¡¯s spirit had upped James¡¯ metabolism.

    The young man had gone through training as if it was nothing. It surprised Harald to see him continue to improve with time, even with his upcoming deadline.

    ¡®Damn shame. It must be stressful finding out something like that.¡¯

    Despite the grim situation, James still pushed on like he had always done.

    Harald turned to where the guardsmen were currently sparring, across from where Helen was sparring with the new recruits. Kate Rowan was winning a fight against her fellow peer, Dirk Andal. They were both motivated by James¡¯ actions and that of his friends. James¡¯ influence was visible among their strikes and desire to push further. This wasn¡¯t solely due to the fight with James and the knights. It was actually Harald¡¯s doing. The old veteran recalled his last lecture with the guardsmen.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°Why do we have to train, anyway? Jarl Holter and his companions are strong enough to take down Lumen Knights¡­¡±

    Harris had spoken out. Back then, Harald had been pushing the one-handed guard hard. That had resulted in Harris refusing to continue, instead opting to laze around and complain. Harald, of course, did not take this lightly.

    ¡°We train to bring the best out of ourselves. To be prepared for any sudden threat. When another conflict breaks out, will you rather cower in fear why everyone risks themselves?¡±

    Of course, Harris was not convinced. This had infuriated Helen and Harald recalled the blonde woman bringing the guards to the sparring ring, where James and Felix were sparring. The match was heated, with James carefully dealing out strikes at Felix¡¯s tight defense. The sound of training swords whacking was deafening, accompanied by the tired breathing of both participants. Harald remembered seeing James deal out a risky feint, resulting in Felix attempting for a counter. That had done it for the captain guardsman, who got a nasty hit to the liver from James¡¯ shield bash.

    ¡°See that? That is the result of training! Months of training had refined James¡¯ fighting style!¡±

    Helen¡¯s demonstration was still not enough.

    ¡°So? Holter is an otherworlder and has a spirit living inside of him! Not only that, but he has magic! We can¡¯t stand a chance against him, training or no training!¡±

    Harris¡¯ complaints were slowly getting to the new recruits, who had all been watching with a side glance. That was when Harald stepped in once more.

    ¡°That is quite the point you had made. Only one problem, however. Do you see any use of magic in there?¡±

    ¡°Well, no¡­ but-¡±

    ¡°What about his movements? Do they seem otherworldly? Are his eyes glowing blue? ¡°

    ¡°I¡­ He¡­¡±

    ¡°James has no advantages in this sparring match. Here, he uses his own mind, body, and instinct instilled into him from weeks of training and sparring. No spirit, magic, or enhancements. He is trained and has pushed himself time from time again. Note that James Holter is still training here, despite these ¡®advantages¡¯. He pushes himself to be stronger, to be the man his people need him to be. You all must take after his example. You must become what Yorktown needs you to be. A strong guard capable of taking anything that comes his way.¡±

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Harald had watched as their gazes of exhaustion turned to ones of admiration and determination. From then on, the trainees had taken Harald¡¯s words to heart, pushing themselves to become better. Even Harris had stopped complaining.

    </blockquote>

    The veteran looked back on that memory fondly, citing it as a good teaching moment.

    ¡®I just hope he shows up to training more often.¡¯

    Harald turned his focus from Kate¡¯s spar to where James¡¯ training sword laid, along with his practice shield. The young clan leader was currently out managing his responsibilities, along with Dahlia and Seamus. Those three were also improving faster than the old veteran had expected.

    Dahlia was getting better at basic sword combat, her weak defense slowly improving bit by bit. She still had a problem with allowing herself to be way too open in sparring matches. Seamus would usually be the one to exploit that.

    Speaking of which, the young Halvorson was slowly shaping up to be a better fighter, outside his impressive reaction times and quick movements. Seamus had been practicing with the heavier swords, doing his best to build up his muscle and stamina. Harald knew Seamus was basically a prodigy with the sword, even if he was a bit cowardly at times.

    ¡®What kind of training did he go through?¡¯ Harald wondered.

    Seamus didn¡¯t seem to remember much of his past training, as he was but a child when it happened. Still, remnants of it could be spotted in the sparring ring. Harald had seen the dangerous look in Seamus¡¯ eyes whenever the young man found the right moment to strike at his opponent¡¯s open stance. It was the same look Harald had seen in Lumen Knights and Heraldic Champions. It was the same gaze that was held by those who had real power.

    ¡®Perhaps it is in his blood.¡¯

    Harald had heard of the stories that revolved around Yorn Halvorson. To call them historically accurate was a basic fact. That man was in his own league, one that rivaled the past legends of Azura.

    Yorn¡¯s rise and fall was a saga well known to everyone. The feared Jarl was the grandson of Halvor the Great, a warrior who had freed Valenfrost from Lumen control. Halvor had been looked upon as a legend and reflection of what Valenfrost would become. The warrior was brutal, charming, and caring for all his people. His son, Kjor, was a powerful warlord that was controversial to bring up. The son of the legend had conquered islands and rival clans, even butting heads with the Lumen Kingdom and their heralds. His actions had not gone unnoticed in those years.

    Kjor¡¯s violence and need to conquer had made all his allies turn on him, including his own son, Yorn. The prodigal son Yorn had helped the clans of Valenfrost take the warlord down, even uniting them all to do it. Kjor¡¯s son had even gone as far to reject his father¡¯s name, instead choosing to go by his grandfather¡¯s lineage. At the young age of 20, Yorn Halvorson had killed his father on the night of the Frost solstice, with blood moons watching over the historical event. Yorn¡¯s actions had brought the unity of the nation, the major clans now allied for the first time.

    ¡®Halvorson, Redyr, Falk, and Blyth. The four dominant clans of Valenfrost. Poetic, just like the legend of the Four Kings.¡¯ Harald thought.

    However, like all legends, the four clans had split and shattered. Their reign had fallen years back. Harald knew what had happened to those clans.

    Blyth, the clan of the wolf, was sacked by an old kingdom looking to invade Valenfrost. From his knowledge, no one had survived that age-old conflict.

    Falk, clan of the falcon, had fallen from obscurity. If anything, it had a worse fate than Blyth. After the old Jarl had died, his bastard son took up the title and changed it into the infamous Hawk clan. Not that it meant anything. From what Harald recalled, Ivan Falkson had little control in the south. His reign only expanded across the many small islands in the southwest of Valenfrost. His limited resources were probably the reason he hadn¡¯t retaliated against James and Yorktown these past months.

    The reindeer clan, Redyr, was still around. Its old Jarl had passed away a decade back because of illness. His wife now ruled over the north, going by the title of Frue. Redyr was still prevalent, albeit not as much as the bear clan once was.

    Halvorson was the one of the largest in Valenfrost. Its demise also marked the latest fall of an old clan. That didn¡¯t mean Yorn had been weak when it fell. Harald still feared the late Jarl, even if he was dead. The veteran had heard stories about the man who was proclaimed as the ¡®Lord of Valenfrost¡¯. It was a well-known fact that Yorn Halvorson was a powerhouse during the Outsider War. He faced off against Lumen Knights and even defeated two heralds chosen by Delphine herself. His legacy was forever burnt into Valenfrost. Harald wouldn¡¯t be surprised if Yorn rose from the sea itself, looking for a rematch with Deimos.

    ¡®Deimos¡­¡¯

    Harald clenched his jaw in anger at the grim reminder. The Red Death was an enigma to the veteran. Somehow, someway, Deimos had killed Yorn and burn the Halvorson clan to the ground. Deimos had something up his sleeve that intrigued even Harald. He was strong for sure, but from what Harald had heard, it shouldn¡¯t have been a problem to Yorn. Yet here was Seamus Halvorson, the last of his father¡¯s blood. Harald wondered if Seamus sought revenge against Deimos, or if the young man would even come close to what his father was.

    ¡®It¡¯s not fair to compare the two. Seamus¡¯ abilities are far more different from his father¡¯s. Almost as if they were polar opposites.¡¯

    While Yorn was described as relying on brute strength and force, Seamus¡¯s fighting style relied more on speed and precision. For example, during the last sparring match, Seamus had avoided a counter-attack from James. The young man had seemingly blurred into reality, quickly dodging the attack and finally landing a winning blow on James. Still, it seemed as if Seamus was still trying a hang of it, as he usually lost his matches by overdoing it and having his stance prone to attacks.

    Dahlia was usually the one to exploit those openings. The shaman had been struggling at the beginning, being a magic user that was usually resigned to being nothing more than support. Still, Harald had ironed out all the kinks in her fighting ability. He hammered the instinct and strength into Dahlia like a blacksmith would do to a shoddy sword. She still had ways to go, but for the moment, Dahlia was a decent, fair blade that could get the job done. She was fast, reactive, and smart. Harald could even see some of her father in her movements, something that had unlocked a slew of memories for the veteran.

    Knight Alfric was a man who Harald grew to respect throughout the years. That man had deserted his own kingdom for a life of solitary and peace instead of one full of duty and order. Harald had hated him at first, seeing Alfric as nothing more than a traitor. That was because of the training instilled in Lumen soldiers. They were taught to hate deserters and to die rather than leave their loyalties.

    The veteran turned to the woods nearby the training grounds. He knew beyond the trees and hills laid his hut. The one he had built after he was disgraced from the Lumen Kingdom and banished from their lands. Alfric was the only person willing to accept him, willing to welcome him to this secluded island. Dahlia had been but a small child, afraid of the big man in armor.

    ¡®Does she still remember? The times I would visit?¡¯

    Harald hadn¡¯t been prominent in the young woman¡¯s life, his presence limited to her memories as a child. He regretted not taking her in after Alfric and his wife had died, since the former knight had seen Harald as a brother. At the time, the veteran had to deal with the loss of Alfric, a grievance which left him unfit to take care of the orphan left behind.

    Harald silently thanked Shaman Dres, for the elder had taken Dahlia in after the tragedy and never seemed to judge the then hermit. Harald could see what that old shaman had passed down, along with remnants of Alfric and Luci. Dahlia was a reminder of them, and it gave the old veteran some respite in knowing that their presence wasn¡¯t completely gone.

    ¡°Harald!¡± a voice rang out from the sparring ring nearby. Harald turned to the ring, where a tired Helen was standing over the last of the recruits. Their first sparring match had gone surprisingly well, it seemed, since Helen¡¯s arms and sword bore visible marks. They had all lost, but seemed to have done some damage to the former marauder. Harald turned to the recruits. They mostly comprised men and women from Aldren. A dwarf and two gnomes were even taking part in training.

    Harald was impressed with their determination throughout the weeks, watching as they improved bit by bit. They had been artisans and merchants back where they had come from, yet they decided to train to become guardsmen. According to Bjorn, the people of Aldren had been scarred from the orcs¡¯ invasion, the events shaping them up to become fighters in a dire situation. While many did their best to return to their former lives in the safety of Yorktown, others had pursued strength as a means of preparing for the next threat.

    Harald admired that level of commitment in a way. Those who were willing to put themselves through pain and work for their families brought a smile to the veteran¡¯s lips.

    ¡°Training is done!¡± he called out to the exhausted trainees. They all nodded from their place on the ground, their heavy breathing almost rhythmic. He turned to Helen, who tossed aside her sword and headed towards the door. ¡°Same time tomorrow?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Of course. These greenheads need to improve some more on their offensive attacks,¡± Helen muttered. She rotated her arm, which was marked with welts and bruises from days of training.

    ¡°Why did you choose to help?¡± Harald asked with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°What?¡± The trainer gave Harald a look of confusion.

    Helen had been a viable teacher for about a month now, her teachings and demonstrations proving enough to properly teach the trainees. The former marauder had gotten her freedom months ago, after her help during the second battle for Yorktown. However, all she had done with it was drink and hang around the tavern for months. That was until Harald had drafted a new batch of recruits.

    He had simply asked for her to give a short demonstration, to show the basics of a spear. Yet, even after the demonstration was over, she stayed around. This had resulted in Helen becoming a regular at the training grounds, teaching the trainees, and giving advice. It had intrigued Harald to the point where he had watched her from the sidelines, seeing for any clue as to why she did what she did. There was no clue, of course, as Helen did everything with a clear and cut attitude. She was a rough, straight to the point, no bullshit kind of person.

    Hence why Harald had been the one to break the ice.

    ¡°Back when I brought in the new recruits, you opted to help with their training. Why?¡± Harald pressed.

    Helen furrowed her brow, her eyes breaking away from the veteran. She crossed her arms. ¡°It gives me something to do.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Harald asked.

    Helen sighed. ¡°What I choose to do with my time is my business, mine alone.¡± She gave the veteran a look. ¡°Is that why you¡¯ve been watching me, eh? Trying to figure out if I got a soft spot for the little buggers?¡±

    ¡°Just curious about why you continue to train them, despite having no attachment to this place.¡±

    ¡°Fuck off, will ya? My actions mean nothing.¡± The blonde woman narrowed her eyes.

    ¡°See you tomorrow, Dunn.¡± Harald replied with a smile. Helen huffed and walked off, her middle finger raising just as she reached the door. Harald watched with amusement before seeing three familiar figures walk past the former marauder.

    James turned to Helen, who was already gone by the time he spoke up. ¡°What¡¯s up with her?¡±

    ¡°Nothing to worry about.¡± Harald waved off the question. ¡°What brings you three here?¡± Harald asked. He looked over at Seamus and Dahlia, who both pointed at James.

    ¡°Ask him,¡± Dahlia said.

    ¡°He only told us a few details, so we¡¯re just as confused as you,¡± Seamus added.

    Harald turned to James, whose attention was turned to the training grounds. He had a grin on his face, a look that worried the veteran.

    ¡®He has a plan.¡¯

    ¡°What is it you¡¯re planning on doing?¡± Harald asked cautiously.

    ¡°Nothing too dangerous. At least, I hope,¡± James answered. ¡°It is a plan that will hopefully raise Yorktown¡¯s reputation and line our pockets with enough funds to keep the White Raven clan going.¡±

    ¡°This doesn¡¯t involve raiding? Or bounties? Or ripping off any dangerous men?¡± Harald asked carefully.

    ¡°Of course not. All it involves is you, me and a couple of other selected people to come and help with negotiations.¡±

    ¡°Negotiations?¡± Harald was getting more confused by the second.

    James¡¯ grin grew. ¡°Believe me when I say we have a business opportunity. There is no need to be worried. This plan is going to save this town and grow our influence. Trust me.¡±

    Needless to say, Harald was worried.

 B.3 Chapter 9: Business Venture

    James looked out to the horizon, where the rising sun was slowly starting to show itself to the harbor.

    ¡°I hate mornings,¡± he sighed tiredly before he sat on a nearby crate.

    ¡®I can never understand that. What is the point of sleeping late?¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice sounded out.

    ¡°It¡¯s a bad habit from Earth,¡± James muttered. ¡°I was basically nocturnal back then.¡± Still, despite being months since he had arrived here, his sleep schedule had barely changed. James rubbed his eyes, knowing well that the dark circles under them were becoming more pronounced. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a stress thing¡­ Gods know that these last five months haven¡¯t been exactly a pleasant vacation.¡± His hand scratched at the cloak that continued to itch around his neck. It was a blue piece of apparel, its material that of wool. On its back was the symbol of the white raven. It was the only one he had that wasn¡¯t torn and covered in blood.

    James looked at his surroundings. The only people around were tired merchants and Frostbite¡¯s basic crew. The crew was preparing a vessel for the upcoming journey, which James planned for these last few days. James looked towards the vessel, which floated placidly in the black waters. He had decided to take Draugr¡¯s Haunt for this voyage, as the ship was faster than the brig Frostbite was.

    Draugr¡¯s Haunt was a longship, taken from orc hands back during the Fall of Aldren. It had been named by the prisoners James had freed on that island. The hull was painted black, with blue runic symbols and lettering that spelt out its name. A simple draugr was depicted on its side with white paint, its glowing eyes displayed with blue. James stared at the depiction, which eerily resembled him. He looked up at the sails, which were rolled up. Still, James knew that the black canvas had a white raven painted on it, reminiscent of the one that hung on the banner.

    James turned to Frostbite, the ship Deimos had left for him months back. It had gotten a new paint job too, albeit much more faithful to its old design. The skeleton that had represented death was now blue, its grasp grazing against the new blue runes that were painted underneath the old ones. James raised an eyebrow at that, wondering why they had left that part unpainted.

    ¡°Friend James!¡± a voice suddenly shouted. James turned to the source in surprise, seeing the crew¡¯s captain walk towards him. Dimitri was wearing a heavy coat and warm looking hat, which resembled that of a two-tailed fox. The captain held a drink in his hand, mead from the look of its golden contents and honeyed scent.

    ¡°Dimitri! Drinking I see.¡±

    ¡°No harm in a little buzz,¡± Dimitri chuckled, before he patted James¡¯ shoulder. ¡°My crew will be finished in no time! Voyage will be ready soon.¡±

    ¡°Good to know.¡± James smiled back at the boisterous shipmaster.

    Dimitri and his men were vital to James and his clan. They had been there for him back when the young man needed a crew for Frostbite. They were also vital to the second battle for Yorktown, as they had helped fight off the orcs who had come to invade Yorktown. Dimitri, Liam, and the rest of the crew had stayed after the fight, deciding to help defend the island from bandits for the past couple of months. Dimitri had even sworn loyalty to the white raven, despite his crew opting to stay freelance. That man had more faith in James than in his friends.

    ¡°Where is friends?¡± Dimitri asked.

    ¡°They¡¯re preparing for the journey. We are going to stay at Vindis for a while,¡± James explained.

    ¡°What about girlfriend?¡± Dimitri asked with a sly smile. James felt his face heat up at the tone of the shipmaster¡¯s voice.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be staying behind, watching over my people while I¡¯m gone,¡± the clan leader revealed. Dahlia had suggested that option. The shaman felt it irresponsible if James had left his people with no guidance or leadership. She would handle the errands and construction projects while James was gone. Seamus had also wanted to stay, but James had convinced him to come. James felt it was important for Seamus to go out so more, instead of staying in the same routine of conversing hopeless topics with Haggard and Lowe at the tavern.

    Speaking of which, the powerhouse known as Haggard had declined James¡¯ offer. The drifter wanted to stay at Yorktown, as he and Lowe had a ¡®boy¡¯s night out¡¯ planned out with Bjorn and Archibald. Which was a lie, judging from Archibald¡¯s denial of the event. James didn¡¯t know what Haggard and Lowe were planning on doing, but he doubted it was malicious.

    ¡®Guess they¡¯re Dahlia¡¯s problem now,¡¯ James thought.

    Archibald and Bjorn were also tagging along to the venture. Bjorn, for the sole fact that the dwarf was sure that James was going to get himself into conflict. Archibald, from the sole fact that the elf was broke and needed coin. Harald was coming as well, as he had experience with Vindis¡¯ markets and traders. James turned to the horizon once, where the sun had started to bathe the world in its light.

    ¡°It seems like it¡¯s time, eh?¡± Dimitri asked.

    James let out a frosty breath of relief, his gaze moving to the shipmaster. ¡°Get everyone on-board and secure the cargo. We¡¯ll be setting off soon.¡± Dimitri nodded at that. As the shipmaster went off to his crew, James spotted a couple of people dragging their feet to the harbor, followed by what looked to be Lilith.

    She was wearing a thick coat that hid her tiny figure and possibly her axes. The mute woman had been recommended by Seamus to accompany the journey, as Lilith had a tougher time living on her own in town. Also, Seamus had wanted to improve her social skills at Vindis, since Lilith had slowly gotten used to Yorktown¡¯s people and crowded paths. Archibald stood next to her and looked like hell, his hair a tied up mess while his eyes sported dark circles. He wore the same mercenary gear he had on months ago, with a few new changes due to the fact that his original armor had been damaged and repaired.

    Seamus was next to him, the young man¡¯s eyes half closed as his feet and rucksack dragged against the cobbled ground.

    ¡°Do we have to go so early?¡± he asked with a yawn. Seamus wore a warm-looking cloak, his dark green gambeson and wool breeches visible underneath.

    ¡°You get up early for training, so this shouldn¡¯t be a problem,¡± James pointed out.

    ¡°This was supposed to be my day off, James. I need my free days,¡± the young man complained in a sleepy murmur.

    ¡°Quit being a baby,¡± Archibald muttered. ¡°My back is still hurting from the months I spent on that infirmary bed.¡±

    Seamus groaned, but didn¡¯t argue with the elf. More footsteps sounded out, and James could see two more figures show up. Harald was there, his hand dragging what looked to be a snoring Bjorn. The veteran looked awake and fresh, his steps pronounced and without visible exhaustion.

    ¡°I see that someone came prepared,¡± James muttered. Bjorn¡¯s bottom dragged against the stone ground, his mumblings incoherent. ¡°What¡¯s up with him?¡± James asked.

    Harald shrugged. ¡°He was like this when I went to pick him up. Guess he had a bit too much last night.¡±

    James looked at the dwarf, whose hand was clenched around a bottle.

    ¡®Seriously, I think he has a drinking problem.¡¯

    James scrunched up his nose at the noticeable odor Bjorn emitted. ¡°When was the last time he bathed?¡±

    Harald shrugged once more. ¡°Best not to think about it. We are going to be traveling with him and I¡¯d rather not have that fact floating in the back of my mind.¡±

    ¡°Good point,¡± James mumbled, his focus turning to the longship.

    ¡°What are you planning to do if this doesn¡¯t work, James?¡± Harald asked. ¡°From what you¡¯ve told me, this seems like a long shot.¡±

    The young man blinked at that, his gaze lowering to the waters that lapped against the longship. What was he going to do if this didn¡¯t work? If this didn¡¯t solve their problems? The preparations for this venture had already taken up a couple of weeks. Gods knew how long it would be before James came back here.

    ¡®Will it be enough? Will I have to do more? What happens if we gain nothing?¡¯

    He could feel a pang of anxiety hit him in his core, his worries from before slowly emerging.

    ¡®Stop thinking like this,¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice suddenly called out. ¡®It is better to fail trying than to do nothing and still fail. You¡¯ll never know if it works unless you try.¡¯

    James hung onto the spirit¡¯s words, his mind going back to that meeting in the longhouse.

    ¡®I¡¯m going to die within months. If this doesn¡¯t work¡­¡¯

    ¡®Then you¡¯ll find another way. You always do.¡¯

    James nodded, a small smile forming on his lips.

    ¡®I guess so.¡¯

    He turned to his party, who all seemed to wait for James¡¯ call. He looked towards Harald, who was still awaiting an answer to his question.

    ¡°It¡¯ll work. If it doesn¡¯t, we¡¯ll find another way,¡± James assured the veteran. Harald raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. ¡°Alright, everyone on the ship now! We¡¯re leaving,¡± James called out to everyone who was still on the harbor. He turned to Draugr¡¯s Haunt, where Dimitri and the others were getting ready for departure. James watched as his friends and allies passed by him and fled onto the ship. He stood at the harbor¡¯s edge, watching the crew and part prepare for the long voyage.

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    James turned back to the island he grew to call home. The morning light illuminated the buildings and cobbled streets, the distant forest swaying from the cold breeze. Without the snow covering every inch of it, the island looked naturally beautiful. No intrusive skyscrapers nor polluted smoke stinking the air. Not even the sounds of conversations and distant honks of cars.

    Just brick and wooden buildings, with a silent breeze that carried leaves and the scent of pine. James tapped the toe of his boot against the harbor, knowing well that it was going to be a long while before he would be on solid ground again.

    The young clan leader turned to the ship before him, before he took a deep breath. James stepped onto the small bridge that led to the deck, preparing himself for the journey to come.

    <hr>

    Gwenyth Sterling looked out upon Norum¡¯s shores. The clear blue waves of the sea lapped against the harbor below, which was crowded with ships of many origins. The visitors they carried varied between merchants, travelers, and mercenaries who had come to find opportunity at Norum¡¯s bustling markets and streets. She looked at the many symbols that marked those ships, nearly all of them unrecognizable to her. At least, all but one.

    ¡°They¡¯re still alive I see,¡± Gwenyth muttered as she focused on the reindeer symbol that was painted on a ship¡¯s sail.

    ¡°Redyr? They¡¯re one of the most prolific clans around. Why wouldn¡¯t they be around?¡± William¡¯s cocky voice shouted out from across the landing pad. Gwenyth turned to the herald, who was currently tying up the raptors from their long and strenuous journey.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen many prolific clans begin and end in my lifetime. Halvorson, Blyth, Arkyr, Korisaki¡­¡±

    ¡°Did you make up those last two? Never heard of them.¡±

    ¡°Exactly my point,¡± Gwenyth sighed. She stood up from her spot at the edge of the landing pad. ¡°Where¡¯s Arthur?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Fort, he¡¯s arranging our transportations. He¡¯s also trying to locate the bounty hunters we were supposed to meet up with days ago,¡± William answered.

    Gwenyth silently cursed to herself. They were late to Norum, something that wasn¡¯t expected. Their supposed two day flight had turned into a week-long journey through badlands and hostile archers. They had lost one guard to Minotaur sharpshooters and another after his raptor had turned against him. They were down to two guards who were still nursing wounds from their flight. Gwenyth turned to the entrance to the fort¡¯s interior, where those guardsmen were resting.

    ¡®I should check up on them. Make sure if they¡¯re still fit to travel.¡¯

    Gwenyth scowled and shook her head. It would do her no good to become attached to these soldiers. She had already done that one too many times. Gwenyth looked to William, who was currently talking with his white raptor, the creature calm as the herald stroked its feathers.

    ¡°Who knew he was an animal person,¡± she muttered to herself.

    Gwenyth headed her way to the pathway that led into the fort, walking into the awaiting halls. Fort Norum had been spruced up from the last time she had visited, its walls lined with paintings and decorative pieces of armor and weapons. Most paintings depicted scenery from around Azurvale. Gwenyth recognized most of them, her eyes spotting familiar places and distant memories. Some paintings displayed historical moments, a couple of which she recalled. Battles from days past, lords who were currently rotting in a tomb, and kings whose reign never extended beyond their twilight years.

    The elf stopped by a nearby balcony, her focus turned to the men underneath it. Conversing on the floor below, was Arthur and another soldier. Gwenyth raised an eyebrow, her ears picking up on the murmuring voices. She could only catch some words and disconnected sentences, their contents strange and mysterious.

    ¡°Red Death¡­ Hunter went missing some time ago¡­ Norak outside¡­. Source is moving¡­¡± were the few tidbits the silver-haired elf could catch. Before more info could be spilled out, Arthur¡¯s body tensed up, his head turning to the balcony Gwenyth was situated on.

    Gwenyth stayed where she was, not moving a muscle as she looked back at the strange man. She had to admit, Arthur¡¯s presence made her uncomfortable, a feeling she hadn¡¯t felt in decades. The specialist narrowed his brow, his whole body turning with his head as he spoke out to the elf.

    ¡°Do you enjoy eavesdropping on fellow team members?¡± His demeanor was that of a disappointed parent, his arms crossed as if he was one.

    ¡°I thought team members weren¡¯t supposed to keep information from each other. Especially if that information involves the mission,¡± Gwenyth shot back.

    Arthur stared at Gwenyth, his stoic expression not changing one bit. ¡°Get William and the others down here. We¡¯re leaving for the docks now. Plans have changed.¡± Without letting the elf get another word in, Arthur turned and promptly left with the other man he was conversing with. Gwenyth watched in silence, her hand clenching the balcony¡¯s edge.

    ¡®What is with him?¡¯

    The elf decided not to dwell on it much longer. She still had a job to do. Gwenyth went back to gather up William and the others, who were still recovering from their long trip. Despite their complaints and visible discomfort, they still obliged.

    Gwenyth led the party down the steps to the fort. However, they had a hard time doing the seemingly simple task. The whole place was like a maze to the elf and the men, as they had to navigate around endless stairs and winding pathways. Once Gwenyth and her party reached the ground floor of the entire place, they headed their way to where the military docks were located. They thankfully didn¡¯t have to make their way to the public harbor, which was located on the other side of the city of Norum.

    The city was big enough to rival that of Haven, the other unofficial capital city of Valenfrost. Norum¡¯s docks were also crowded with merchants and visitors, which would¡¯ve made it a pain to get through by normal means. These docks at the fort were much more spacious. They had military brigs and galleons, as well as a couple of longships. Gwenyth suspected the longships were supposed to be their undercover transports, as their colors suggested them as neutral.

    After surveying the location, Gwenyth spotted Arthur by one of the longships. He was speaking with the man from before, as well as another clad in black. She raised an eyebrow at the mysterious man, whose face was obscured by a hood. Regardless, the silver-haired elf and her group made their way to the vessel. Arthur seemed to notice her approach, his head turning to Gwenyth and the men. He said nothing to the bunch, his words still focused on the conversation he was having. Gwenyth ignored him, her gaze moving to the other man, the one donned with the hood. The stranger lifted his head to her as if out of curiosity, revealing what was concealed under his hood.

    Sunlight shined and reflected off of brass goggles, which held black glass that seemed to absorb all light. A strange visage that reminded the elf of the artificers of old, the ones who had used to tamper with steam machinations. The stranger¡¯s mask was made of a black material that connected with the goggles and covered every inch of his face. Yet Gwenyth could still make out what was carved into it. Her eyes widened when she made out a wide, toothy grin that resembled that of a child¡¯s drawing.

    Gwenyth reacted without fail, her saber already drawn and aimed at the follower of chaos. She swung quickly, her feet propelling her towards this new enemy. Steel clashed and Gwenyth was suddenly struggling against Arthur¡¯s blade. She gritted her teeth, her focus changing to the man who had stopped her.

    ¡°Are you insane?! He¡¯s a follower of Myr!¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°Let me go! I cannot allow him to live! Not when he worships that bastard of a god!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s with us. He¡¯s not with the followers,¡± Arthur revealed.

    Gwenyth scowled. ¡°Then how do you explain that mask?!¡±

    Arthur narrowed his eyes. ¡°The carving is a remnant from his past. The mask itself was made before he joined their ranks years ago.¡±

    Gwenyth turned to the man in the mask, who stared at her with a look of interest. ¡°He can¡¯t take it off?¡±

    ¡°No. Doing so will plunge him into agonizing pain. He can¡¯t get a new one either, so he¡¯s stuck with that mark,¡± Arthur explained. ¡°If he was an actual follower, he would¡¯ve been dead by my hand years ago. Believe me,¡± he added. Gwenyth stood there for five long seconds. She stared at the grin carved in that mask, almost as if she was hypnotized by it.

    For Gwenyth, who had lived through centuries, many things have tended to be forgotten or pushed to the back of her mind. The grin of Myr, however, was burnt into her memories. Chaos was a destructive thing, one that tore open families and set friends and foe ablaze. It had no side, making it a dangerous force that was nigh unstoppable.

    Gwenyth scowled. She slowly stepped back, her saber wavering as it lowered. The former follower of chaos stared at the elf, unmoving. As Gwenyth sheathed her weapon, she turned to Arthur.

    ¡°Can I assume that this is the bounty hunter we hired?¡± Her words, while calm, carried a tone of revile and disgust.

    ¡°It is,¡± Arthur confirmed, his hand gesturing towards the masked man. ¡°This is Eilif Norak, the immortal.¡±

    ¡°Eilif the Immortal?¡± Gwenyth questioned. She had heard stories of the man himself, but had never met him nor have seen his visage for herself. From the rumors, Eilif had lived through an entire century.

    ¡°You lived through the resurgence, correct?¡± Gwenyth suddenly asked the bounty hunter. Despite being threatened by her mere moments ago, Eilif nodded as if nothing had happened.

    ¡°Saw the second rise of the Lumen Kingdom,¡± He spoke out. His voice sounded¡­ strange. It was as if he was talking through a filter, his throat coated in gravel. ¡°Back when a Kord was king.¡± The tone of his voice sounded off to Gwenyth, as if he was emphasizing on the name of Kord. Eilif¡¯s goggles were also unsettling, almost like they were peering into the elf¡¯s soul. She nodded at the bounty hunter. As creepy looking as he was, he didn¡¯t give off the aura that many followers emanated.

    Gwenyth changed her focus to Arthur. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡± she muttered.

    ¡°We get geared up. Ditch the armor and grab something less conspicuous.¡± Arthur gestured towards the rest of the group¡¯s armor, all of which had runes and magical buffs engraved on it. ¡°We¡¯re not going to be in Valenfrost wearing this stuff. We¡¯re basically begging to be robbed. Go with Grant here and get yourselves gambesons, chainmail, and lightweight armor without runes.¡± Arthur gestured towards the man he was talking with earlier. Gwenyth watched as William and the others, who were standing idly the whole time, moved to follow Grant. Even Eilif followed behind. The elf, however, stayed behind.

    ¡°What were you talking about with Grant?¡± she asked, not really expecting an answer.

    Surprisingly, Arthur gave her one. ¡°He was debriefing me on our new plans. We now have a shorter time span to seal the sources and find our mystery man. ¡±

    ¡°What, because we were late to Norum?¡±

    ¡°No. It is because we were compromised.¡±

    ¡°Compromised? By whom?¡±

    Gwenyth looked at Arthur once more. While slight, she could read his movements. His fidgeting fingers and tense state displayed a feeling of genuine worry and anger.

    ¡°On the night of Bloom, one of our bounty hunters was targeted and killed. His ship was raided by a group of marauders led by Deimos, the Red Death.¡±

    ¡°Deimos?¡± Gwenyth stared at Arthur. ¡°What the hel do you mean, Deimos? What does he have to do with this?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know, but according to our undercover scouts, he¡¯s targeting anyone who has an affiliation with Delphine. From the orders I¡¯ve received, we are to avoid him at all times and finish our mission before the Frost solstice.¡±

    ¡°You mean we have five months to find and seal the source? Valenfrost is enormous! It¡¯ll take us a month to traverse to the eastern edge, and that¡¯s not counting the many bandits, clans, orcs, and creatures that populate these waters. The seasonal storms alone will slow us down by another month!¡± Gwenyth exclaimed.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s the hand we¡¯ve been dealt with.¡± Arthur muttered.

    ¡°Hand?¡± The elf raised an eyebrow. ¡°What does that even mean?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an old saying from my homeland. It means that this is all we got, and we best make the most of it,¡± Arthur sighed. ¡°Look, we don¡¯t really have much of a choice. On the bright side, the high Wizards will send us to the areas they suspect the sources to be. I also have contacts in Vindis, Bernis, and Haven to inform me of anything suspicious, so we don¡¯t have to pick through the many islands of this damned nation. ¡°

    Gwenyth let out a breath, her head shaking slowly. ¡°This is dangerous. Reckless. Stupid even.¡± She clenched and unclenched her jaw. ¡°But I still have a promise to uphold, so I¡¯ll do my best. When this is over, I¡¯m never helping in another ridiculous quest such as this.¡± Gwenyth looked at Arthur, who nodded sincerely.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine by me,¡± the apostle agreed. He then frowned, his eyes moving to the elf¡¯s silver locks. ¡°Still, we¡¯ll have to do something about that hair.¡±

 Interlude: Orderly Fashion

    The sky was but a bleak gray, reminiscent of the previous season. Still, the daylight lit the world in its glow, even if it was heavily filtered to a dull color. Rain pattered, but it was not enough to soak the clothes of the inmates that moved in tandem. They slowly shuffled their feet on the elongated deck bridge, the line of criminals extending from the prison barge to the harbor nearby. Strangely enough, they had no cuffs, nor chains, or even restraints. The men were prisoners no longer, freed from the ship they were exiting. Yet they moved in an orderly fashion, not daring to make a run for it. The reason behind that billowed lightly on the harbor¡¯s edge.

    Gustus stared at the black banner, its void-like canvas stained with the infamous red handprint. He would have never suspected of being freed from that damned barge, let alone sprung out by the marauders themselves. He looked at the ones in black armor, their expressions that of disgust and disapproval. Some of them even shoved the inmates forward, telling them to keep moving. The former prisoners did as ordered, but not without reprieve. Most of these men were killers and serious offenders, imprisoned for their heinous crimes. Yet none revolted, for three good reasons.

    First, was that they were free from Lumen punishment, which had a reputation for being a certain death sentence thanks to their inhospitable dungeons and high rate of executions.

    Second, the marauders had not killed them yet, meaning that they were of some use to the northern group of raiders.

    Third, the most important reason was standing on the quarterdeck of another ship.

    Deimos, Red Death, was a figure the inmates truly feared. Despite the clear grin and open posture, Gustus could feel the aura of killer instinct. It struck fear into him, making his primal instincts scream warnings. Still, he forced himself to be still, to stay calm as he shuffled his way down the deck bridge. He could see his fellow cellmate, Lars, shove the man in front of him.

    Lars was a huge man, markings of black ink visible along his forearms. His brown and dirtied beard hung in braids, put together thanks to Gustus. The fellow cellmate even had past scars running down his exposed torso and arms, marking the inmate as a man who fought frequently. Violently, judging the severity of the healed wounds. Gustus himself even healed some of those wounds.

    Still, Gustus did not consider himself as Lars¡¯ friend. He hated the cell mate, as Lars had threatened Gustus from time to time and even forced the inmate to be nothing more than fighting practice. Gustus rubbed his healing bruises in remembrance, silently scowling as he looked at Lars.

    ¡°Keep to yourselves! No pushing or shoving!¡± A female marauder shouted out from the harbor. She wore black plate armor, signifying her place as one of the higher ups. Gustus noted the clear burn mark that scarred the area around the left eye and the cheek. It looked as if the affected skin was shades darker, her left eye even differing in color. It gave her a mean look, intimidating most of the inmates that got near. All except Lars.

    The meathead scoffed at the woman. ¡°You think I¡¯m scared of you?¡± He called back, his feet touching down on the harbor. Lars stepped closer to her, prompting some marauders to step forward to stop him. The woman marauder raised her hand, stopping her comrades from getting closer.

    ¡°I said, keep to yourselves,¡± she repeated, her words having an edge to them.

    ¡°What if I don¡¯t want to? I bet I can even take you on without that sword of yours. Armor and all,¡± Lars taunted, getting even closer to the marauder. She only stared at him, her hand moving to the sword that hung by her left. ¡°Are you going to kill me? Use that sword of yours to cut down a defenseless man?¡± Lars prodded.

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    ¡®You¡¯re only going to get yourself killed, you idiot¡­¡¯

    Gustus silently chastised the oaf. The female marauder, however, did not unsheathe her sword. Instead, she looked to where Deimos stood. Gustus turned to the Red Death as well, watching as the tall man waved an uninterested hand.

    The marauder sighed at that, her lips forming into a small smile. Without warning, she undid her weapon belt, dropping the sheathed blade to the harbor below. Everyone stopped. Every inmate and marauder watched in silence, their gazes fixed on Lars and the armored marauder.

    ¡°Here¡¯s your chance. Better use it wisely,¡± she spoke out, her eyes set on Lars.

    Gustus stared at the spectacle in surprise. Was she really so confident as to fight this bulk of a man without a weapon?

    Lars only grinned as he rotated his shoulder in preparation.

    ¡°Your loss,¡± he chuckled. Gustus wasn¡¯t sure if the female marauder knew what she was dealing with. While Lars was an idiot, he was still a force to be reckoned with. Gustus recalled the crime that got Lars imprisoned. The criminal had killed two men in a bar fight in Bernis, his actions catching the ire of the city guards. Even then, it was rumored that Lars had held off ten armored guards, even killing a couple in the process. He was a berserker, a veteran of the Outsider War that never truly finished his violent rampages.

    Lars took a deep breath, his eyes set on the marauder before him. He swung at her, his beefy arm moving in a blur. At a moment¡¯s notice, the marauder had already dodged the attack; her figure already rushing past the attempted punch. Gustus blinked once and saw the marauder right up close and personal with Lars. She was still as a statue, her bluish eyes staring into the berserker. Her fist had disappeared in his braided beard, right where the throat was.

    Lars coughed violently, blood speckling the marauder¡¯s pale face. He stumbled back, gritting his teeth as he wildly swung once more. Multiple strikes audibly sounded out. Next thing Gustus knew, Lars was thrown back, his body shaking as he tried to keep himself standing. The marauder only watched, her calm movements making it seem as if she was merely watching a drunkard try to get his footing.

    Still, the berserker stood his ground. He coughed once more, his arm moving up to wipe the blood from his mouth and beard.

    ¡°Fucking cunt,¡± he audibly muttered before he came at the marauder again, this time with a tighter defense. The marauder reacted in time, her fist moving to strike at the man¡¯s exposed face. Lars quickly raised his arms up to defend himself, but it was for naught. The marauder had thrown a mere feint. One moment later and the blurry woman had already planted her knee into Lars¡¯ stomach. The berserker let out a groan full of rasp and pain. He dropped to the ground this time, his breathing ragged. Gustus did not make out a single movement from the so-called fight. He only watched as Lars pathetically tried to stand up again before the marauder stomped on his back with her steel boot.

    ¡°Keep to yourselves,¡± she repeated this time. ¡°No shoving or pushing. Everyone moves in an orderly fashion. Understood?¡± Every inmate nodded in agreement, as they only needed to look at Lars to know that ¡®No¡¯ wasn¡¯t a viable response. ¡°Get going then,¡± she growled.

    With that, everyone moved on. Lars was dragged off by some of the low-ranking marauders, leaving the woman to watch over the rest of the inmates. Gustus looked at Deimos, who crossed his arms at the event. Despite being so far away, Gustus couldn¡¯t help but feel as if the Red Death was smiling.

    Whether out of pride or entertainment, the inmate did not want to know.

 B.3 Chapter 10: Silverheads

    2

    Shadows of Vindis

    <hr>

    James retched out into the dark swirling waters below, the contents of his stomach emptying into the black sea. He could never get used to the rocking of the deck. After spitting out the rest of the bile left in his mouth, James turned his attention back to the rest of the ship. Harald stood there with a practice sword, his stance still and unwavering at the movements of the sea.

    ¡°Are you ready to try again?¡± the veteran asked.

    James grimaced as he stood back up, his own practice sword rising towards Harald. ¡°How do you even get used to the rocking?¡± He called out.

    ¡°It¡¯s quite simple. You just practice like this,¡± Harald answered with a strike, his sword swinging towards James. The blond man barely blocked, his muscles burning with effort as he fought the veteran off. ¡°Eventually, you¡¯ll balance yourself without realizing it,¡± Harald added.

    ¡°You make it sound easy!¡± James grunted as he forced the veteran away, his practice sword flashing towards Harald.

    ¡°Nothing is ever easy,¡± Harald simply responded. He parried James¡¯ attack with ease, his sword¡¯s tip smacking the young clan leader in the hand. James winced and instinctively pulled back, almost dropping his weapon in the process.

    ¡°That¡¯s a dirty trick, y¡¯know,¡± James complained.

    ¡°Your enemies won¡¯t care,¡± Harald countered. ¡°You need to learn how to defend yourself. Going on the offensive won¡¯t always work out. There¡¯ll be a day you find that out the hard way.¡± The veteran moved in for the offensive once more, his weapon swinging down on James.

    James quickly moved to counterattack, his sword blocking the strike. He shifted his weapon right after the impact, catching Harald¡¯s sword with his guard. With a quick motion, James pushed the veteran¡¯s sword to the side, leaving him open. In that second of vulnerability, James thrusted his sword towards Harald¡¯s chest, hoping to take the winning blow.

    Harald simply stepped to the side, his hands letting go of his weapon to grab at James¡¯ blade. Without any warning, the veteran pulled on James¡¯ practice sword. James stumbled forward in surprise, losing his footing almost immediately. He fell to the ground right after, his vision blurred as he tried to process what had happened.

    ¡°I win,¡± Harald suddenly called down on him. James blinked and looked up at the veteran, his training sword now in the older man¡¯s hands.

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t let me have that one?¡± James groaned as he stood up, his knees wobbling from the constant lurching of the deck. He and Harald had been training non-stop since their departure from Yorktown. It was to build muscle and prepare him for the tax of another rune he was planning to imprint on his body. The Power Strike casting was costly, requiring the user to build up weight and muscle just to handle it. Despite training for months, James still felt like he needed to prepare for it.

    Still, while training during the sea journey was James¡¯ idea, he couldn¡¯t help but feel as if this was the veteran¡¯s idea of payback for all those missed training sessions.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be a hot day in Helheim before you win a fight against me,¡± Harald commented as he walked off. James wanted to remark back at him, but felt his body shudder at the feeling of the rocky deck. He quickly rushed to the railing of the longship, dispensing his stomach¡¯s contents into the sea. ¡°Let¡¯s call our training off for now. If we keep going in your state, you¡¯ll die of dehydration before we even reach the docks,¡± Harald called back.

    James didn¡¯t complain. Instead, he simply nodded and gave a thumbs up, his throat too sore to talk back at the veteran. Once he got his stomach settled, James looked at the rest of the crew, who had all worked around him and Harald as they trained.

    Everyone else seemed in good spirits, unaffected by the ship¡¯s movements and James¡¯ training session. James sighed and slid down to the deck, his hand gripping onto the railing nearby. Everyone else seemed to do fine with the movements of the deck. Well, everyone but Lilith. The savage woman from Aldren was currently gripping onto the mast for dear life, her feet doing their best to gain purchase. James was about to comment a word of advice to the berserker, but felt his stomach lurch once more. He held in more bile, swallowing the urge to vomit out the rest of his food.

    ¡®Five months in Valenfrost and you still get seasick,¡¯ Faust commented.

    ¡°Motion sickness is something I¡¯ve been dealing with for years,¡± James refuted in a burp.

    ¡®The gods who sent you here must¡¯ve loved irony,¡¯ Faust laughed.

    James chuckled, resting his head back. ¡°My summoning was unplanned, no gods involved,¡± he muttered.

    ¡®Do you still believe that yourself?¡¯ Faust asked.

    James shook his head. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to delve into. I was brought here by accident and the dreams I had resulted from it,¡± James explained. He hadn¡¯t had those strange personal dreams in months, something that had given him much respite. James had concluded that they resulted from his body and mind coming to terms with being in a foreign world. ¡°Nothing more than strange dreams.¡±

    ¡°What are you on about?¡± A voice came from his right. James opened his eyes to Seamus, who was giving him a weird look.

    ¡°Just conversing with Faust,¡± James revealed. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to help your friend with getting used to the ship?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine. I already gave her my advice. All I can do is wait till she gets the hang of it.¡± Seamus sighed before he took a seat next to James. ¡°Saw your training with Harald. It seems like you¡¯re getting the hang of it.¡±

    ¡°The fighting or the lack of sea-sickness?¡± James asked with a raised eyebrow.

    Seamus chuckled. ¡°Both really. Your skill has improved these past months. In no time, you¡¯ll surpass Harald.¡±

    ¡°I doubt it,¡± James sighed. ¡°He¡¯s holding back. I can feel it every time we spar now.¡± He couldn¡¯t forget that look in the veteran¡¯s eyes every time they clashed. It was like Harald was hesitating with every strike. Despite this, the veteran had kicked James¡¯ ass in every sparring match.

    ¡°I think I know what you mean,¡± Seamus muttered. ¡°Still, I don¡¯t think he¡¯s holding back. At least, not intentionally. From what I see, it looks like he¡¯s recalling something.¡±

    ¡°Recalling something?¡± James asked. He turned to Seamus, whose gaze was fixed on the cloudy sky.

    The younger man shook his head, a smile coming over his lips. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Just a thought.¡± He waved off the question like it was nothing. James decided not to press any further.

    ¡°So,¡± Seamus started, changing the topic. ¡°Are you doing well with Faust? Nothing strange happening?¡±

    ¡°Nothing out of the ordinary. We were just conversing about some random crap before you came,¡± James answered.

    Seamus nodded, staying quiet for a few seconds. After some silence, he spoke out again. ¡°What¡¯s it like to have a spirit in your body months later?¡± Seamus asked.

    James raised an eyebrow. He recognized Seamus¡¯ question as the same one he had asked months back during the walk they had taken to Harald¡¯s hut. Back then, his answer was that it felt like Faust¡¯s presence was always there, overshadowing him as he tried to focus on reality. An unnatural feeling that he couldn¡¯t explain fully. Now, however, James had a slightly different answer.

    ¡°It feels sorta the same as last time, but different. Faust feels like an extension of my mind in a way. It¡¯s weird. I¡¯ve come to accept him as a part of me and I had even forgotten about getting rid of him.¡± James remembered back to that week. Back when he had to deal with Faust for the first time. During that time, he had wanted nothing but to get rid of Faust, to heal the lingering wound he prevented. The next following months, however, changed that. The spirit and the young man had grown on each other. To where they considered each other close.

    ¡°Our bond grew. Strange huh?¡± James chuckled. ¡°Faust and I kept each other alive. We fought together, bled together, and shared memories.¡± He frowned. James brought his hand to his chest. ¡°But since that ¡®incident¡¯. It feels as if our link is deteriorating. Slipping almost,¡± he muttered. James looked to Seamus, whose features had dimmed.

    ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to mention it,¡± James quickly apologized.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± Seamus raised his hands, accompanying it with a small smile. ¡°I¡¯ve come to accept that inevitability.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ve lost people before. Even if it isn¡¯t easy, I¡¯ll pull through. I always have.¡± Seamus gave a reassuring smile to James. ¡°Just promise me you won¡¯t pull off anything stupid. Dying people tend to do that.¡±

    James nodded. ¡°Of course,¡± He agreed. ¡°Definitely won¡¯t try to attempt an idea that just might end with us getting mugged.¡± That got a chuckle out of Seamus.

    After their brief laugh, Seamus spoke up once more. ¡°You never told me much about your past life. What was it like?¡±

    James blinked at the question. ¡°You mean Earth?¡±

    ¡°No, not your world. Past life. I¡¯ve heard bits and pieces from Dahlia about Earth. I heard nothing about your past life beyond the day you were summoned here.¡± Seamus explained.

    James pondered the question, his mind going back to his life. ¡°It was pretty boring, actually. I worked a lot. Dealt with assholes, a lot. I had a couple of friends then, a girlfriend even. I certainly didn¡¯t fight anyone to the death, nor risked my life for people I led. It was a simple living, I guess. But I didn¡¯t really enjoy it. It was like I was stuck in place.¡± James looked down at his right hand, which was callused from the months he had spent training and fighting.

    ¡°It was a peaceful life, then?¡± Seamus asked.

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    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Would you ever go back, given the chance?¡±

    James frowned. He clenched his hands tightly, recalling all the pain and hardship he had felt in Valenfrost. The death he had experienced and the bodies he had seen. The man he had killed in defense of his people. James could still hear the screams of Gryff, who had desperately tried to pry James¡¯ fingers from his skull. The young man had suffered nightmares from that experience, resulting in many sleepless nights and visions of the knight¡¯s corpse whenever the young man had gone outside. James had eventually learned to overcome those terrors and scarring images, but every once in a while, his mind would go back to that moment. His left arm still tingled from that memory.

    Still, James couldn¡¯t bring himself to answer Seamus¡¯ question. Outside of the horrors he had witnessed, James didn¡¯t regret coming to Valenfrost. He clenched his jaw, feeling his emotions urge him to speak the truth.

    ¡°No,¡± he muttered softly.

    Seamus blinked. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t go back? Even if it meant leaving all this chaos and death behind?¡±

    ¡°Of course not,¡± James reiterated. ¡°I¡¯ve done so much here, made allies and friends, saved lives and an entire island. Even if I am facing eventual death, I feel more alive here than I do on Earth.¡±

    ¡°You truly are a strange man,¡± Seamus muttered, his eyebrow raising.

    James laughed. ¡°Does it really surprise you anymore?¡±

    ¡°Fair.¡± Seamus smiled. ¡°Do you think there are others out there like you? Those from different worlds?¡± He added.

    James pondered for a bit. ¡°Maybe. It¡¯s kind of hard to think that I¡¯m the only otherworlder in Azura. Surely there have to be others before me, right?¡±

    Seamus shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure. There are stories of heroes coming from foreign worlds, but those are old, dating back to the age of myths. It could be that those stories were about men who came from far-away lands such as Kasan or Areno.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense,¡± James agreed. He cupped his chin in thought, his thoughts running possibilities.

    ¡®If there was another otherworlder, would they know about me? If there are others. What would their purpose be?¡¯

    James let out a breath of frustration.

    ¡®It¡¯s stupid to think that there¡¯s an Earthling out there. You are the anomaly idiot,¡¯ he mentally chastised himself. ¡®Even if there is someone from Earth out there, would you ever know?¡¯

    The ship suddenly lurched, the deck shifting beneath James. His eyes widened at the sudden movement, his hands moving to grip at the longship¡¯s railing. Seamus did the same, his hands grabbing onto a tied down crate. Both men held for dear life, Draugr¡¯s Haunt shifting as salt water sprayed onto the deck. Soon enough, the movements slowed to an unnatural calm. James raised his head from the ground, his gaze focusing on Liam, the steerer for the ship.

    ¡°What the hell happened? Did we run into rocks?!¡± James yelled out.

    ¡°No! We shouldn¡¯t have! There¡¯s not supposed to be rocks in this part of the sea!¡± Liam called back.

    James furrowed his brow before he moved to stand up. ¡°Dimitri?¡± The clan leader called out, his eyes searching the deck. He blinked, realizing that a fog had rolled in during the trip. It was thickening slowly, making it harder to see.

    ¡°Harald?¡± James called. There was silence for a moment. Then, footsteps.

    ¡°Everyone! Get your weapons now! Silverheads!¡± Harald¡¯s voice shouted out, just as the deck shifted once more.

    ¡°Did he say silverhead?¡± James asked in confusion.

    ¡®The fish we eat back at Yorktown?¡¯

    James recalled the tasty dish, which was commonly served at the small walk-in eateries by the harbor. From what he remembered, silverheads were a unique fish that got their names from the shiny plates attached to their blind heads. He knew they had teeth and short claw-arms for prey, but he had always thought them to fear human contact, just like any normal fish.

    The longship tilted to the side, making James and Seamus stumble. More water sprayed onto the deck, followed by the scurrying of many little things. James focused through the fog. His eyes widened as he saw many silverheads skitter their way to the young man. Their arms were shaped like mantis claws, hooking onto the wooden deck. Their sizes differed, with some at a foot¡¯s length. James watched as their silver-plated heads opened to four separate mandibles, their cries heard out throughout the deck.

    ¡°What the fuck?!¡± James cursed involuntarily, his hand quickly reaching for his side. One of the silverheads screeched at James, before it made a dash towards the blond man. James reacted quickly, kicking the fish away as he unsheathed his sword. ¡°Seamus! Stick close!¡±

    Seamus nodded at James¡¯ order, his feet wavering as they made steps towards James.

    The silverheads all scurried around, their mandibles making popping sounds as their blind heads looked around. James stared in fascination at the creatures. Never did he expect for things to get as strange as this. The silverheads all clicked and popped, the sounds they were making echoing all throughout the fog. Finally, they turned their attention to James and Seamus, who stared at the creatures in confusion.

    The smaller ones were the first to charge, their movements fast as they scurried. James moved to action. He kicked away one, before using his sword to stab a silverhead through. It squirmed in his hold, its teeth gnashing while it clawed blindly. James swung his sword around, forcing the creature off his blade and into the awaiting sea.

    He turned his attention to the rest of the silverheads, which were near him. The popping sounds they emitted were unbearable; the annoying sounds striking a nerve in James.

    ¡°Seamus, you good?¡± James glanced at the other man, who was finishing off a silverhead that got past James.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be alright! Just don¡¯t lose your focus!¡± Seamus called back. James nodded, turning his attention to the fog.

    ¡°Starboard side! They¡¯re coming in from the starboard!¡± The shouts of Harald echoed throughout the fog, giving a warning on where the creatures were coming from.

    Just as the shouts reached James, a silverhead¡¯s screech sounded out from his right. He turned to the sound before seeing the damned fish scurry out to him. It was roughly the size of a dog, slobbering mandibles clicking as it dragged itself to James. The young man stared at the thing, his right hand clenching tightly to his sword. The silverhead leapt at James at frightening speed, nearly catching him off guard. Still, James kept his cool and remembered his training.

    ¡®Keep calm and catch them off guard.¡¯

    He sidestepped the silverhead, making it stumble on the deck. James raised his sword before he thrusted the tip into the back of the thing¡¯s head, right behind the silverplate. The short sword slid in with ease, piercing through the silverhead¡¯s mouth. James forced the blade out, his focus now on the scurrying sound behind him.

    He turned quickly, slashing his sword at the next of the silverheads, which had tried to take a bite at him. The short sword made a cut in the creature¡¯s belly, an act that should¡¯ve gutted it. Unfortunately, the wound was shallow, and the silverhead backed off before James could swing back at it. The young man didn¡¯t stop there. He rushed the silverhead, his sword slashing at its head. The blade contacted the hard plate on its head, bouncing off without so much as a scratch. James clicked his tongue and tried to back off. The silverhead wasn¡¯t going to let him, however. It screeched and leapt at James, who raised his boot in desperation. He kicked at the fish, his steel toe crushing the silverhead¡¯s open mandibles.

    James watched the creature fly back to the deck, where it was exposed. He didn¡¯t squander this moment. James yelled as he forced his sword into the silverhead¡¯s side, pinning it to the deck. The silverhead screeched and squirmed, its claws moving to dig into the young man¡¯s leg, drawing a yell from him.

    ¡°Little bastard!¡± Without hesitation, James raised his boot and stomped on the creature¡¯s head. The thing would recoil from the hit, its silver-plated head dampening the blow. James didn¡¯t care, though. He continued to stomp at the silverhead¡¯ skull, putting all his weight into it. His steel clad boot soon broke through the tough plate, splattering fish brains all over the deck.

    James sighed in relief, pulling his sword out. His ears perked up at the sounds of shouts and yells, accompanied by what sounded like Lilith yelling out in anger.

    ¡°What the hell is¡­?¡±

    ¡°James, behind you!¡± Seamus¡¯ voice yelled out.

    James turned quickly, only to be met with an airborne silverhead the size of a small wolf. It tackled him, the act knocking the sword out of James¡¯ hand. The young man gritted his teeth as he felt his back hit the deck. He struggled with the silverhead, using his knees to prop it up. The silverhead tried to go for a bite at James¡¯ head, but was interrupted by James¡¯ left. As it gnawed at the forearm, James quickly went for the back of his belt. The blond man¡¯s right hand produced a small hand ax, which he used to hack at the silverhead¡¯s belly. After a couple of chops, the creature¡¯s body gave in. Fish guts spilt all over James¡¯ torso, the silverhead soon going limp in his hold.

    ¡°James! Are you alive?!¡± Seamus¡¯ voice called out.

    James sighed. ¡°I¡¯m alive,¡± He groaned before he forced the dead fish off of him. He stood up, his right hand holding his left forearm.

    ¡°Oh, shit. Your arm¡­¡± Seamus muttered, his hand pointed at James¡¯ torn sleeve.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± the young clan leader revealed. He pulled back the sleeve, revealing a metal brace he was wearing.

    ¡°You wear a brace?¡±

    ¡°Of course. I learned my lesson the last time I fought with wild animals.¡± James explained. He wiped down his ax with his tunic before tucking it back in its sheath at the back of his belt.

    ¡°Is that all of them?¡± he asked as he picked up his fallen sword. The fog was still thick, but James couldn¡¯t hear any sounds of fighting or scuttling.

    ¡°I think so. I took on a couple while you were fighting. No more came after that. As for everyone else¡­¡± Seamus turned to the mist, squinting at it. ¡°Harald! Lilith! Bjorn! Are you still alive?¡± There was silence at first. Then a voice called out.

    ¡°We¡¯re fine,¡± Harald¡¯s voice called back.

    ¡°The silverheads stopped coming. I think we passed through a breeding ground,¡± Bjorn¡¯s voice sounded out after.

    James stepped through the fog, barely seeing the figures of everyone on board. ¡°Everyone! Sound off!¡± He called out. Slowly, each of the crew called out to the ship. No one had perished or had gotten severely injured. James sighed a breath of relief. They had gotten through this conflict with little difficulty.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Lilith?¡± Seamus asked, the other man stepping cautiously through the fog. James furrowed his brow. The berserker was one of the few who didn¡¯t sound out through the mist.

    ¡°Where is she?¡± James mumbled, his eyes doing their best to peer through the fog. As he focused, James could feel the familiar heat of magic surrounding his eyes.

    The magic James was using was the same he and Faust used back during their fight with the wolves in Yorktown. After some months of practice, he had gotten used to the feeling and had even learned how to use it as of late. It was an ability that had fostered from the bond with Faust. Even though their bond was breaking, James could still harness the spirit¡¯s power. Which was what he was doing now.

    James¡¯ glowing eyes pierced through the fog before settling on the savage woman in question. He blinked in surprise, the heat around his eyes slowly going away.

    ¡°What is it? Did you find her?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±

    ¡°Is she alright?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­¡± James trailed off, his hand gesturing towards the direction where he saw the red-haired berserker. The mist was already dissipating, slowly restoring visibility on the ship. James watched as Seamus neared the direction James gestured to. Both men watched as Lilith¡¯s form came into view, her figure sitting down on the deck.

    ¡°Oh,¡± was all Seamus could say as he got a better look. Lilith was unharmed. At least it looked that way. It was hard to see under all the guts she was covered in. The berserker was surrounded by dead silverheads, most of them being the size of the ones James fought. She was currently gnawing at a piece of one of the dead fishes, using her ax to hold it up to her mouth. Lilith didn¡¯t seem to mind the stench, although she was covered in black and blue guts. She looked at James and Seamus, growling as she took another bite of the raw fish meat.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m going to be sick,¡± Seamus muttered behind James.

    ¡°Right with you.¡±

    Both James and Seamus spent the rest of the day letting out their built up bile.

 B.3 Chapter 11: Entry Fee

    James sat back against the mast, his torso still stinking of fish guts. Despite cleaning off most of the mess with wet rags, the stench was still there, permeating James¡¯ nostrils with its putridity. He sighed in defeat, accepting that he was going to stay like this until he got himself a proper bath and better clothing at Vindis. He raised his left forearm, his iron bracer now exposed to the cold air. It had sizable marks from the silverhead attack, with one tooth still lodged in the metal. James plucked it out, tossing it aside. He was right to wear these cheap bracers, which were a courtesy of the loot he had plundered from bandits in the past months.

    James had enough forearm injuries in the past, to where the young man thought it necessary to armor up his appendages. Rightly so, as the previous engagement had shown him.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t think this would come in handy, though.¡± James moved to check up on his hand ax, which was sheathed on his belt. It was a backup weapon he had prepared for the trip, just in case he would ever lose his sword. He didn¡¯t really expect to use it so soon, but it seemed as if fate wanted to test his readiness.

    ¡®Funny how convenient it was to prepare before the voyage.¡¯

    James sniffed the air, scrunching up his nose at the stench once more. ¡°Just wish that I wasn¡¯t the only one who smelled like shit,¡± he muttered. James turned to the rest of the crew, most of whom were relatively clean compared to the young man. The silverheads had all been taken care of by James and his friends, leaving the crewmates unharmed and safe from danger. It did, however, leave James and Lilith smelling like fish guts. James glanced at the berserker, who was sleeping soundly on her end of the deck. She had eaten a feast¡¯s worth of raw fish, yet didn¡¯t seem to be sick from it at all.

    ¡®Then again, sushi is a thing back on Earth. Maybe silverheads are safe to eat raw?¡¯ James concluded. It was also possible that the savage woman had lived in the wilds for years and had built up an iron gut from eating raw foods and dirty water. That was also a theory James had settled in the back of his mind. The clan leader turned to Seamus, who was busy eating his prepared lunch, which consisted of biscuits and dried meat. He seemed so passive, his tired eyes half closed as he nibbled on his food. It was hard to see this peaceful person killing Hugo, the Lumen Knight from months ago. James had heard the stories about Seamus fights, all of them detailing how the young man seemingly massacred everything around him. He recalled the description Helen and Lowe gave.

    ¡®He moved like a demon and fought without hesitation. Seamus was like a brutal herald chosen by Virtus.¡¯

    James remembered how Lowe had compared the young man to the God of War himself, a deity who only blessed those capable of extraordinary feats. That alone gave James much pause whenever he looked at Seamus. There was also the time during the marauder invasion. Kate Rowan had told her story to James, explaining to him that Seamus had ¡®snapped¡¯ and let loose upon the marauders who had come to her shop. James recalled something similar happening during their time at Aldren. He had seen Seamus lose consciousness during the fight at the clearing, which resulted in him being defenseless before Lilith came along.

    ¡®Lilith¡­ that¡¯s another can of worms I don¡¯t want to get into.¡¯

    Simply put, the berserker woman was a wildcard that James didn¡¯t know how to feel about. She apparently had a connection with the young Halvorson, something that confused even Seamus. He had proclaimed that he had never had a sibling nor many family members outside of his mother¡¯s sister, who had lived separately from the clan. James left that vague mystery to Seamus. He had enough of overthinking.

    ¡°Maybe I can sneak in a nap before¡­¡±

    ¡°Ahead! Vindis City spotted!¡± One of the crewmen¡¯s voice cut through his suggestion, shooting down any hope of actual rest for the young clan leader.

    ¡°Nevermind,¡± James groaned as he forced himself to stand. Sure enough, once the sails were lifted, the floating city of Vindis was visible. It was the same as always, with buildings that were visible from afar. The floating platforms seemed static despite the rocky waves James¡¯ ship was situated on. Then again, he was sure those buoys in the distance had something to do with it, as they were covered in enchanted runes. He could even see the many men occupying the ship barricade that surrounded the city. This was going to be James¡¯ fifth time coming to Vindis, the last visit being a couple months back. Still, it didn¡¯t mean James knew much about the city. Most of those visits were to turn in local bounties set on roaming bandits.

    Back then, James¡¯ longest stay at Vindis was so he could see off Finn and Brant, both of whom were involved in the Lumen Knight incident months ago. Both men had stuck with James throughout his quest and had even become injured in doing so. Despite their help, they did not reside in Yorktown anymore. Finn had been subsequently banished from the island, despite his efforts in the fight. Felix had not forgiven the other man¡¯s involvement in Gryff¡¯s attack on the small town. Brant had been given a chance to stay, since he had warned and brought Draugr¡¯s Haunt as reinforcements during that fight. However, he decided to stick with Finn, opting to watch over him in Vindis as a precaution.

    James wondered if both men were still at Vindis. He was initially worried that Finn would go to Jarl Ivan and tell him of James and Yorktown, but he had his doubts lifted when Brant volunteered to stay and watch Finn. Brant was one of the first people to swear loyalty to James, an act that surprised the clan leader.

    ¡°I hope he¡¯s doing well,¡± James muttered. He had enough experiences in Vindis that proved to the young man that the city was not welcoming. Riddled with winding pathways and dangerous folk, the city was a place where one would struggle to find solace. Despite its beauty from afar and the remarkable achievement it had as a floating city, Vindis had a darker underbelly that James himself didn¡¯t want to poke at.

    ¡°Sails up! We¡¯re approaching the barricade!¡±

    Dimitri¡¯s shouts seemed to animate the rest of the crew, who all moved with efficiency to raise the sails. Once the black canvas was rolled up, Dimitri¡¯s words echoed once more across the deck,

    ¡°To oars men! Take this ship to the checkpoint!¡±

    The men all did as told, without hesitation. James watched as they all moved to the sides of the longship, picking up the oars that laid by the railing. He turned to the rear of the ship, where Liam had moved from the rudder of Draugr¡¯s Haunt. He now brandished a mallet with a wrapped cloth tip, his other hand holding the drum necessary to make sure the rowers kept their tempo. Fascinated, James watched as Liam striked the drum, pacing the beats as the crew rowed the longship.

    DUM

    DUM

    DUM

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    The rhythmic beat was all there was, the only other sound being the splashing waves. James looked ahead, where the checkpoint lay. It slowly grew as the men rowed, their oars fighting the ocean¡¯s current as Liam¡¯s drum kept on tempo. Finally, Dimitri gave the call.

    ¡°Stop!¡±

    Liam¡¯s drum went silent, and the crew stopped their movements, leaving Draugr¡¯s Haunt dead in the water. It slowly drifted to the barricade¡¯s opening, where another longship awaited them. They had extended a long chain across the gap, something James initially didn¡¯t notice. Thankfully, Draugr¡¯s Haunt was going at such a slow pace that it gently nudged against the chain before stopping completely.

    James sighed in relief, remembering the markings that chain had left on Frostbite the last time they had come to Vindis.

    ¡°Oi! State your¨C¡± A gruff voice called out from the starboard side, before it cut off mid-sentence. ¡°Ah, it¡¯s you¡­¡±

    James smiled and turned to the owner of the voice, a dwarf who worked guard duty for Vindis¡¯ barricade.

    ¡°Argyle, right? Good to see you again,¡± the clan leader greeted. He watched as the dwarf in question raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t recognize your ship, Red Slayer. What happened to your old brig?¡± Argyle prodded. James cringed at the nickname. Red Slayer was a name Argyle and his friends had come up with after James¡¯ show of ¡®intimidation¡¯ the first time he had come to Vindis. He never knew the name existed until his second visit to Vindis, when Argyle recognized the young man. By the time he found out, it was already too late for the clan leader.

    ¡°Frostbite is back home. This is a new ship, pillaged from a dangerous orc camp,¡± James boldly stated.

    Argyle laughed at that. ¡°Yeah yeah. We¡¯ll add Orc Destroyer to your profile, along with Lumen Killer and Red Slayer.¡± He responded in jest. James couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. The dwarf was unaware of the reality behind James¡¯ story, instead only believing that the young man was someone who told only tall tales and exaggerated his achievements. James liked it this way, since Argyle didn¡¯t treat him as some sort of freak or being of incredible power.

    ¡°Alright, the fee is still thirty silver. Any and all weapons must be turned in at the harbor. Cargo must be checked and, of course, names will have to be marked down, understood?¡± Argyle droned on his scripted words, his hand stroking his braided beard as he talked.

    James nodded and reached for his pouch. He pulled out a valdora piece before he tossed it to the dwarf. Argyle caught the blue coin with ease. The dwarf bit down on the precious metal to make sure it was the real deal. A smirk then came across his lips and he pocketed the coin.

    ¡°Alright then, same spot as last time. I¡¯ll let the harbor workers know to turn a blind eye.¡± Argyle gestured towards the floating city ahead before signaling to his men to lower the chain.

    James nodded and turned back to Dimitri, who grinned. ¡°Let¡¯s get to rowing men!¡± the shipmaster shouted. The drum¡¯s steady rhythm returned, and James watched as the longship made its way to the upcoming harbor.

    <hr>

    North of Valenfrost, far away from the floating city of Vindis, laid the churning black waters of the abyssal sea. The way the waves violently crashed and swirled signified that something big was affecting the currents. Usually, this meant that a leviathan was hunting, looking for any poor ship to devour. It wouldn¡¯t be too far from the truth, as Bloom meant the creatures would soon awake from their long Frost slumber.

    However, no leviathan nor serpent affected these waters, as runic symbols suddenly appeared above them. They formed a circle, resembling a gate formed of magical glow. Soon enough, the runes brightened and a magical screen appeared. Out of the screen jumped forth a brig, the runes on its hull glowing white hot as the smell of burnt wood permeated the air. The ship crashed against the waves, rocking for a while before the black waters finally calmed down.

    As the ship went still, a man ran to the port with haste. He bent over the railing, vomiting out the contents of his previous meal.

    Gwenyth watched as William threw up into the black sea. His body shuddered from seasickness, his knees wobbling as he tried to hold on to the railing.

    ¡°First time riding a runic gate?¡± Arthur called out to the herald, who continued to retch. Gwenyth tried to sympathize with the sick man, remembering the first time she had gone through a rune gate. She was barely a couple hundred years old then, and the experience rocked her like no other.

    Rune gates were spells first conjured by Wizards of old. The spell had been in use back during the early centuries before becoming lost after the Second Great War. Of course, they came back a couple centuries later, after the Resurgence. They were revolutionized into travel for ships during that time, used only for ships under Lumen control.

    The ship Gwenyth was on currently had the runic spell engraved in its hull. The gate spell required a skilled Wizard to activate it, forcing it to use the ley lines of Azura as a guide to where to go. Still, despite this incredible magic, the ship could only go so far into Valenfrost. The ley lines were fractured to all hel, making it risky to use the rune gate to travel along them. No one knew if it was dangerous to use the cracks and no one wanted to test it either.

    Gwenyth walked to starboard, peeking down at the hull. The runes were smoking, the heat of their magic reaching the deck. The rune gate won¡¯t be able to be used for a while. Gwenyth estimated it to be a week before the ship was ready to jump again.

    ¡°Now, where to?¡± Arthur called out to the elf.

    ¡°Judging from the map you people provided me, I¡¯d say we go south. The closest breakpoint is by a small settlement, Buravon. It¡¯s a small island, easy to scour,¡± Gwenyth called back.

    ¡®I hope our disguises hide the fact that we¡¯re from Azurvale.¡¯

    She touched her fake hair, which had been fabricated by a Wizard back at Norum. It was black and short, with a couple of braided ends, making the silver elf look like a rugged merc. She even had illusory scars to sell the look. She wore a dark tunic over a sleeved shirt, its edges frayed. Her armor was that of gambeson, with a rough cape and sheath to cover her saber up. Even Gwenyth¡¯s prosthetic was wrapped in bandages, making it look like her left arm suffered from horrible scarring.

    ¡°Something worrying you?¡± Arthur asked.

    ¡°All I ask is that we stay inconspicuous. We might look like the average nomad, but these people are quick to notice foreigners,¡± Gwenyth stated. Although Arthur and Gwenyth looked and could act the part, the rest of the crew was¡­ off. William was obviously foreign, even with all his new clothing and fake hair. He acted out of place, like a naive soldier from Lumen City despite his veteran status. Eilif was also a problem, as the bounty hunter oozed a threatening aura. His brass goggles and grinning mask didn¡¯t help.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯ll only be me and you going into town.¡± Arthur assured the elf. ¡°I don¡¯t trust William to keep his damn mouth shut for even a second.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious!¡± William cried out. ¡°You can¡¯t just leave me here on the ship. My body can¡¯t take the rocking¡­ I need solid ground! I need¨CUgh!¡± William went back to retching.

    Gwenyth sighed. ¡°Good. It¡¯ll also keep the ship safe. Gods know what kind of filth roams the waters¡­¡±

    ¡°You sound like you hate the north,¡± Arthur pointed out.

    ¡°Of course I do. Do you not?¡± Gwenyth turned to Arthur, who chuckled lightly.

    ¡°It¡¯s terrible. Filled with wretched folk and disgusting creatures. But in a way, it¡¯s exciting.¡± Arthur admitted.

    Gwenyth raised an eyebrow. ¡°You truly are a strange man. I wonder why Delphine chose you as her apostle.¡±

    That did it for him. Arthur laughed heartily, his arms crossing as he turned to the elf.

    ¡°Believe me. We both didn¡¯t have much of a choice.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 12: Runes and Gizmos

    James yawned tiredly as he stepped off the ship¡¯s deck bridge, his feet finding balance on the floating platform.

    ¡°Already tired?¡± Seamus asked as he stepped onto the platform behind James.

    ¡°Slept like crap last night and I couldn¡¯t get a single minute of sleep on the way,¡± James explained as he checked the cloth wrap he had around his sword. James raised an eyebrow at Seamus, realizing that he kept his sword¡¯s sheath out in the open.

    ¡°Keep that blade hidden. Not every Vindis guard here is friends with Argyle,¡± James pointed out.

    Seamus blinked, realizing that he had overlooked that fact. ¡°Oh, right. Wait right there, I¡¯ll be back!¡± He rushed his way back to the ship, nearly knocking off Harald and Bjorn into the waters below.

    Harald let out a sigh. ¡°Is it wise to take all of us at once?¡± The veteran looked around the harbor, his suspicion apparent.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Liam and the crew can look after it,¡± Dimitri called out as he stepped onto the platform.

    ¡°The shipmaster is coming?¡± Archibald asked from the deck bridge.

    ¡°He¡¯s vital,¡± James answered, before he turned his attention to Harald. ¡°If you¡¯re worried about us being a sizable target, don¡¯t fret. We¡¯re going to split up.¡±

    ¡°Split up?¡± Harald seemed even more confused.

    ¡°Of course. Seamus, Lilith, Archibald, and I are going to Nathan¡¯s shop. You, Bjorn, and Dimitri are going to get a place for us to stay at. As comfortable as the ship is, we can¡¯t have our meeting spot in the harbor the entire time. It gives trailing thieves a spot to loot whenever we leave it.¡±

    ¡°I thought the crew could handle it?¡± Seamus spoke up, his sword now wrapped in what looked like dirty clothes. Lilith trailed behind him, obviously nervous about the new place.

    ¡°The crew can handle a wandering drunk or thief. They cannot, however, handle a gang of organized thieves that had followed one of us to the ship,¡± James explained. ¡°We are already low on money as it is. We can¡¯t afford to risk anything. Understand?¡± He watched as everyone nodded their heads in agreement. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s not waste any time then.¡± James gestured for everyone to get moving.

    ¡®I have to say, you¡¯re a little stricter than usual. Did someone piss in your flask?¡¯ Faust chuckled. James sighed, his eyes moving up to the cloudy sky. It was already dimming, meaning that the dangers of night would soon come.

    ¡®Our voyage already took up so much time, despite the shorter distance from Vindis to Yorktown. I don¡¯t want a repeat of the last time I stayed out late in Vindis.¡¯

    James recalled the first time he had gone out in the dark streets of Vindis. He and Dahlia had gotten involved in a scuffle that nearly finished the young man¡¯s life had it not been for a rogue wave shifting the platforms. Then again, that entire fight was James¡¯ fault.

    Still, the clan leader wanted to avoid such encounters, since last time, he had pissed off the thieves who had been beating on Dimitri. He turned to his friends, all of whom were already moving into their respective groups. James sighed, his hand bringing out a piece of parchment Dahlia had scrawled on before his departure. The lettering was foreign, but James could read it as if it was English. That was a rtesult from his summoning, which had swapped out his English dialect and replaced it with Azuran, the most common language spoken around Valenfrost and Azurvale. He read the scratchy handwriting, which described where Nathan¡¯s shop was located. James scratched at his head, unsure if one of the street names was ¡®Halige¡¯ or ¡®Halipa¡¯.

    ¡°This is probably going to take a while.¡±

    <hr>

    It turned out that it wasn¡¯t as difficult as James had originally predicted. By the time the clouds had tinged orange, James and his group had already arrived at the Wizard¡¯s shop, its sign lit up by blue lanterns.

    Nathan¡¯s Runes and Gizmos!

    NO REFUNDS

    James tilted his head at the recent addition to the banged up sign. He wondered what the Wizard had done that he needed to add that little subtitle.

    ¡°Never knew this place existed,¡± Archibald muttered from behind.

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty well hidden, it seems,¡± Seamus added, his head turning as he examined the surroundings.

    ¡°It¡¯s a bit isolated, I¡¯ll admit. Still, Nathan is basically one of the very few people I know in Vindis,¡± James explained. He still felt like an outsider in this city, despite his previous visits. Then again, most of them were very short-lived. The longest visit he spent in Vindis was his first time here.

    James led the way to the shop, with the rest of his group trailing behind. The bell chimed as he opened the door, prompting a muffled response from the rear of the shop.

    ¡°Coming! Just uh¡­ Give me a minute!¡±

    James sighed, holding the door open for his companions as they filed in. Seamus and Archibald looked unimpressed by the clutter of junk around the front of the shop, staying away from it. Lilith, being the last, was fascinated by the inside of the store. She poked at the discarded vials and pieces of scrap, staring at them with the interest of a child. James ignored her and focused on the curtain that led into the back. Through the dim lighting of the waiting area, James could see the glowing light that emanated from behind the red cloth that acted as a barrier to the rear of the building.

    ¡°This is¡­underwhelming,¡± Archibald muttered, his eyebrow raised as he lightly kicked a warped shield.

    ¡°Is this their junk pile?¡± Seamus asked as he examined a trinket that seemed to have been made from scrap metal and discarded trash.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± James answered, blinking as he looked around the room.

    ¡°At least someone is having fun.¡± Archibald sighed as he gestured towards Lilith, who was now examining the bell that hung above the door. She climbed on an empty shelf, her hand moving to poke at it. It rang its chime once, causing the berserker to make a light gasp of interest. She poked it once more, then again, and again. Before long, the entire shop was filled with non-stop ringing.

    ¡°HEY! WHO¡¯S DOING THAT?! I SWEAR TO HORUS IF YOU BREAK THAT BELL I¡¯LL¨C¡± A young gnome stepped out of the curtain, equipped with an oversized stick that was double his height. He stopped mid-threat as soon as he saw James, his eyes widening. ¡°Oh dung.¡±

    ¡°Who is it?!¡± an annoyed voice shouted out from behind the curtain.

    The gnome blinked before a grin grew on his face. ¡°It¡¯s blondy! The guy we met around the Frost solstice!¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± another voice, a gruff one, called out in confusion.

    ¡°He¡¯s alive?!¡± the first voice added. The curtains shifted and a tall man stumbled up, his spectacles twisted and his crooked hat on the edge of falling off his head. Soot and blue powder stained his wine red robes, making it look as if he had tried making a cake through explosive means. Still, James could recognize the Wizard who had given him his first casting.

    ¡°Nathan! How are you doing?¡± James grinned.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s tits!¡± Nathan exclaimed, a grin of his own appearing on his face. ¡°Rockford! You owe me and Wheaton each a gold piece!¡±

    ¡°Are you serious?!¡± Another figure bursted through the curtain, this one an old dwarf with a graying beard and head of hair. ¡°Dammit! Just my fuckin¡¯ luck,¡± Rockford cursed aloud before he turned back and pushed through the curtain, leaving the room.

    Nathan ignored the dwarf, instead moving to shake James¡¯ hand. ¡°Good to see you my friend! Ignore what you heard. We had a little bet after you left our shop last time we met,¡± he chuckled nervously.

    ¡°Bet?¡± James stared blankly at Nathan.

    ¡°Well, you see, Rockford doubted that you¡¯d last a year in Valenfrost. Wheaton and I, however, had betted that you would survive and come back to our shop within a year,¡± the Wizard explained.

    ¡°How thoughtful.¡± James narrowed his eyes.

    ¡°Hey! I vouched for you!¡± Nathan assured, before he turned to the backroom¡¯s entrance. ¡°Come on then! I know you didn¡¯t come here to spite poor ol¡¯ Rockford,¡± the Wizard said. James looked at his companions, who all stared at the blond man. James turned back to the curtain ahead, sighing as he walked through the red drapes.

    The backroom had barely changed since the last time James had been here. Blue lanterns still lit one end of the room, while regular lamplight illuminated the other half. An alchemy table sat in one corner, followed by bookshelves and even more tables covered in questionable ingredients. By the entrance to the room was a smaller table covered in many scraps of metal and contraptions.

    Where James expected to see two gnomes working at the table, he only saw one. The female gnome from before was there, her small hands working on an unrecognizable contraption. James recalled her and the other gnome working on a special orb the last time he was there. That orb, of course, had turned out to be the grenade that James and Dahlia used to blow those crystal-covered abominations to hell.

    Now, it seemed like the gnome had moved her sights to a different invention. One involved a weird rectangle shaped piece of scrap. James turned his attention away from the artificer, now focusing on the open door that led to Rockford¡¯s place of work. James could see the forge beyond the doorway, the firepit that fueled it emanating waves of heat. Rockford stood at its entrance, his hands counting the coins in his pouch.

    ¡°Ignore him,¡± Nathan called out. ¡°He¡¯s just getting my money. Which I rightfully earned!¡± He shouted that last part. Rockford grumbled audibly, letting James know the dwarf was not in the talking mood.

    ¡°What brings you here, anyway?¡± Nathan asked. James moved to answer, but stopped as soon as he saw the other man. The Wizard was completely tidy, his dirty clothes now clean of soot and powder. His spectacles were up right, his hat now comfortably resting on his head. James was about to ask before his eyes caught movement. He saw misty figures creep up behind the Wizard, their arms extending to the man.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    James instinctively grabbed at his sword¡¯s pommel, his feet taking a couple of steps back. ¡°Uh¡­ Nathan?¡±

    Nathan raised a confused eyebrow before realizing what the young clan leader was looking at. ¡°Oh! Wait! They¡¯re no danger!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± James was already halfway through unwrapping his sword, ready to strike down the strange beings. He wasn¡¯t alone, as even Archibald and Seamus reached for their weapons. Lilith only stared in confusion.

    Nathan raised his hands in defense. ¡°They¡¯re harmless. Look.¡± The Wizard whistled, making one of the mist figures come to fix the man¡¯s red robes. It also straightened Nathan¡¯s spectacles, which were slightly crooked.

    ¡°What are they?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°Mist clones,¡± Nathan revealed. ¡°They¡¯re my helpers,¡± he explained.

    ¡°Clones? Aren¡¯t clones supposed to look like you?¡± James asked.

    ¡°They do! Well, in a way. In a fogcloud or mist domain spell, these clones will look exactly like me in color and detail. Out of a foggy environment, they just look like this. Still, they have a bit of resemblance to me if you look closely,¡± Nathan pointed out.

    Now that James looked at the mist clones, he could see what Nathan was talking about. He could barely make out a weird wispy Wizard hat and a floaty robe, but it was there. Nathan snapped his fingers and his clones immediately moved. Both misty apparitions slowly made their way to the scattered books and papers that sat on the Wizard¡¯s desk. James could only watch as they used their transparent hands to clean up the mess.

    ¡°Now then, let¡¯s get to business. What brings you and your friends here?¡± The Wizard asked.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a complicated issue,¡± James chuckled nervously, his hand moving to point at the back of his cloak. ¡°You see, I have some responsibilities to attend to.¡± He turned to show the Wizard the symbol of the white raven, its visage almost glowing under the blue lantern light.

    ¡°I came to make a proposition.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Drunken Draugr?¡± Harald read aloud. He stared at the dirty sign that hung above the tavern¡¯s entrance.

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty reliable, cheap, and the wenches are fairly nice to look at,¡± Bjorn stated.

    ¡°I agree with the drunk, this place reeks of possibilities!¡± Dimitri exclaimed, his grin clear on his face.

    Harald sighed, moving to rub his eyes. ¡°The only possibilities I see are a massive hangover and a sizable order of drinks. Let¡¯s find somewhere else,¡± he muttered. He hadn¡¯t been to Vindis in nearly a decade, but he knew well enough to avoid places like the ¡®Drunken Draugr.¡¯

    ¡°There should be an inn near the center of Vindis, a quiet place last I visited. No distractions, nor any thugs of note if I remember correctly,¡± Harald suggested.

    Dimitri tensed up at those words. ¡°Near the center?¡± He asked, all the enthusiasm in his voice gone.

    ¡°Do you have any objections?¡± Harald asked. Dimitri was silent for a moment, his head turning to the sky above. It had slowly dimmed in the last hour, the sunset¡¯s orange light already reflecting off the clouds.

    ¡°I do,¡± the shipmaster answered meekly. ¡°I have many objections, most that just boil down to one thing. If you take me anywhere near the center, I will be dead by sunrise.¡± Dimitri¡¯s words hung in the air, surprising even Bjorn.

    Harald stared at the shipmaster, who was now showing a side of himself that the veteran didn¡¯t even know existed. ¡°If you¡¯re involved in something. I think we should know. Now,¡± Harald stated.

    Dimitri turned to the veteran, his expression like that of a stone. ¡°Again, I suggest we do not move towards the center. This¡­problem is one that involves only me. I doubt you¡¯ll get caught up in it. Please, let us just stay here and keep away from the backstreets.¡± The shipmaster was much different from the man he was before.

    Harald pondered the choices, his mind going to the shipmaster¡¯s shady reasons for not going out into the city.

    ¡®Although, regardless of whether or not he¡¯s lying, he¡¯s clearly terrified.¡¯

    Harald could see the way Dimitri¡¯s posture had changed. HIs hands were clenched, with slight shaking accompanying them. His eyes darted towards the streets now and then. While anyone can replicate these hints of fear, very few can actually truly show fear. Harald knew well that genuine terror wasn¡¯t an easy thing to copy, and he was willing to bet that Dimitri wasn¡¯t faking.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Harald sighed in defeat. ¡°We¡¯ll stay here. Under the condition that we find a new place tomorrow.¡± Dimitri¡¯s shoulders relaxed at that, his chest deflating as he let out a breath of relief.

    ¡°Well then, let¡¯s get us a room before the night falls.¡± Bjorn spoke up. ¡°Drunks usually fill up all the rooms by midnight,¡± he added. The dwarf entered the tavern, with Dimitri following right behind him. Harald was about to enter the tavern as well, but stopped.

    The hairs on the back of his neck stood with chills, his skin turning to gooseflesh. Harald hadn¡¯t gotten a feeling like this in ages. He knew exactly what it was. Behind him, hidden among the crowd of folk that passed through the nearby market, was someone who was slowly approaching him. It was a foolish task to sneak up on the veteran, as he had learned the Alert skill when he was but a soldier. Harald could feel his spectral skill work its magic, his senses on edge as the figure moved closer. He moved to adjust his belt, his fingers grabbing at the knife he kept hidden.

    Harald stopped mid-way, gritting his teeth as he thought over his options. To attempt a fight here was dangerous, especially with the collateral and patrolling guards that lurked the corners. Harald weighed his options, his mind running through the possibilities. In the end, he played it safe, sheathing his blade as he headed towards the tavern. As he did so, his vigilant skill waned and diminished, his senses relaxing as he entered the doors.

    The man following him was moving away, possibly on edge about getting too close to Harald.

    ¡®Good riddance.¡¯

    While it was a relief to have that nuisance out of the picture, his inner senses still kept him on edge. The stalker must have followed the three from the harbor, since Harald had sworn to have felt the man¡¯s presence throughout the marketplace. The stalker didn¡¯t seem too dumb, since he had mostly kept out of Harald¡¯s skill radius.

    ¡®I should keep an eye out for any more surprises. Who knows what this city holds.¡¯

    With that, Harald kept moving forward to where Bjorn and Dimitri sat alongside the bar.

    <hr>

    ¡°I see.¡±

    Nathan rubbed at his growing beard, his eyes focused on the ground. James watched with anticipation, hoping the Wizard had what he needed.

    ¡®Hey, as a precaution, what¡¯s Plan B?¡¯ Faust commented.

    James brushed off the spirit¡¯s question. ¡®Quiet. I¡¯m trying to think of one.¡¯

    Truth be told, James didn¡¯t have a backup plan. He was so sure that Nathan would be on his side, yet the Wizard seemed to be conflicted. The reaction was more than enough to set off alarms in the man¡¯s head.

    James turned to where his friends were, hoping to get his mind off of the impending answer. Archibald was examining some items on display by the bookshelf, his attention fully focused on a white whetstone. Seamus was conversing with Rockford, his hand carrying what looked to be his old chipped blade, his fingers pointing out the nicks. At the same time, he was also trying to keep Lilith from touching everything, including the blue flames that lit some lanterns.

    ¡°James,¡± Nathan called to the young man. James turned to the Wizard, who sighed as he took off his spectacles. ¡°I can help you,¡± he answered finally. James let out a breath, his anxiety washed away.

    ¡°But I must ask you for something,¡± Nathan added. James raised an eyebrow at that, his shoulders tensing up at the Wizard¡¯s words.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a simple thing, of course. Perhaps a little out of nowhere,¡± Nathan nervously chuckled, his hand moving to rub at his neck. ¡°Can you let me speak to him?¡±

    ¡°Him?¡± James questioned.

    ¡°The spirit inside of you,¡± Nathan answered simply.

    James instantly felt his blood run cold.

    ¡®What in Caleus¡¯ name?! How does he know?!¡¯ Faust panicked, the spirit¡¯s shouts shaking James out of his stupor. He could feel his body heating up from the Centurion¡¯s restlessness.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± James rebutted.

    Nathan sighed, his hands clapping together. ¡°The spirit that resides in you,¡± he repeated. ¡°Don¡¯t lie. I know you are harboring it.¡±

    ¡°What are you¡­?¡±

    ¡°Back when I tried to link you up, when you first got your Carapace spell, I felt it. I brushed it aside at first but¡­¡± The Wizard laughed. ¡°My curiosity got the better of me. I went through my books, curious as to why you were already linked up prior to meeting me. Why were you linked to the ley lines below? Why were your ley lines were mixed with two different types of mana? That is insanely rare, you know!¡± He gestured towards the organized library nearby.

    ¡°I went through every book I had. Went through every book in Vindis¡¯ and Bernis¡¯ libraries. I even asked passing merchants their thoughts on it! I went insane trying to figure it out. But then¡­¡± He raised a finger up. ¡°I heard of you. The Draugr.¡± Nathan grinned. ¡°It¡¯s you, isn¡¯t it? You are the man whose eyes glow blue like the undead. The same man whose abilities go far beyond human understanding? When I heard of those stories, everything clicked!¡±

    ¡°So I went through my books again, this time focusing more on the ones about undead and necromancy. They didn¡¯t have the answer, but they gave me the clues as to what it was!¡± Nathan was excited now, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room. ¡°You were resurrected with dark magic, right? A makeshift ritual that involved a form of necromancy and marionette arts. Someone had to summon a spirit, implant it in a transfer tool, and embed the properties into your body.

    ¡°Not even a healthy body, but a dying one! A healthy one would only have its heart explode from the sheer power. A body at the edge of death, however, would desperately need that kind of energy to be resurrected!¡± Nathan rambled. ¡°Five types of magic, with the conditions of a freshly killed body, with underdeveloped ley lines that could take the energy. Not just that, but the spirit and host would have to be compatible, otherwise the body would die¡­¡± The Wizard trailed off. ¡°It is a nigh impossible task, with conditions that have to be perfect. Yet, it¡¯s the only explanation that fits your condition.¡±

    Nathan turned to James, who could only stare with awe and surprise. The Wizard¡¯s theory was frighteningly close to what had happened. Still, he had to deny it.

    ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about,¡± James managed out.

    The Wizard sighed, rubbing at his eyes in frustration. ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me, James. I know you have the spirit in you. If you keep denying, I¡¯ll be forced to prove it.¡± The Wizard crossed his arms. James pondered his options. He needed Nathan¡¯s help, yet at the same time, he didn¡¯t want to reveal his condition. It was bad enough that people knew about the Draugr. If more people knew that James Holter and the Draugr were the same, then¡­

    The blond man shivered. The consequences were something James didn¡¯t want to face. ¡°Nathan, there is no spirit,¡± James persisted, hoping the Wizard was bluffing.

    Nathan only narrowed his gaze, his head shaking. ¡°I warned you,¡± he muttered. The Wizard raised his hands, outstretching his fingers. Nathan muttered a word James didn¡¯t catch. Suddenly, magical strings appeared and connected to the Wizard¡¯s fingertips. He formed his fingers quickly, his voice gaining an ethereal boom.

    ¡°Runic Circle: Reveal Spirit.¡±

    The ground around James lit up with runes and lines that formed a complex circle of magic. Before James could speak, his body was hit with a weight that brought him to his knees. In only a second, Nathan had summoned his spell, bringing James down with little of a fight. Everyone in the shop reacted loudly, causing Seamus and Archibald to rush towards the Wizard.

    Nathan raised a hand at them. ¡°If you don¡¯t want to get paralyzed, stay back.¡±

    ¡°What¡­ The hell?¡± James managed out, unable to move.

    ¡°You had a chance to tell me. I told you I would do it myself if you didn¡¯t.¡± Nathan frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t like doing this. But you chose to make it difficult.¡± The Wizard finished his hand movements, causing the circle around James to brighten to extraordinary amounts.

    For a moment, James was blinded, his body shivering as what felt like electricity hit his body. Soon enough, however, the experience was over. James blinked, finding himself on the ground, the weight removed from his body. His vision was fuzzy, but he could see how a dome formed around the circle, with Nathan and the rest standing outside of it.

    ¡®No¡­ Not everyone.¡¯

    James spotted one person in the dome with him, his stature tall and broad.

    ¡°Wait¡­¡± James blinked some more, his heart beating out of his chest when he recognized this person. It was someone he had met before, many times. Yet he had only seen his true form a handful of times. This person was someone who was good as dead, yet here he was, steel plate armor and all. James stared at the Centurion before him, his throat forcing out the word he had been looking for.

    ¡°Faust?!¡±

 B.3 Chapter 13: The Champion and the Arenian

    James recalled the few times he had seen Faust¡¯ former self. Most of those times, he had only seen the Centurion¡¯s dead self. Mangled armor, bloody clothes, and pale face. Now, however, Faust was completely different. The armor he wore glinted with steel instead of bronze, its shine making it seem like new. His face was full of color and life, his stubble gone and his messy hair now cut short. His eyes had regained their glint of life, making it look as if Faust Desimir was alive once again. Yet James could still feel a sense of wrongness with the image of Faust, as if the man was out of place.

    ¡°You¡¯re not really here, are you?¡± James pointed out as he stood back up.

    Faust raised his hand, frowning as he moved it around. ¡°It¡¯s strange. Like a dream,¡± he muttered. The Centurion¡¯s fingers met with James¡¯ torso, where it passed through like nothing.

    ¡°I see. You¡¯re just an apparition.¡± James confirmed.

    ¡°I¡¯m not that good of a Wizard.¡± Nathan commented from outside the magic dome. James could see Seamus and Archibald stare at the apparition of Faust, their expressions as if they had seen a ghost. Which was partially true.

    ¡°What did you do?¡± James asked, more confused than angry.

    ¡°I revealed the spirit inside you in the form of a projection caused by the Runic Circle.¡± Nathan gestured to the ground below James and Faust. ¡°What you¡¯re seeing is the spirit¡¯s interpretation of themselves.¡± He added. James stared at Faust, more than a bit confused on why the Centurion looked so different from the mindscape.

    ¡°He looks¡­ different. He looks much more different from in the mindscape.¡±

    ¡°Mindscape?¡± Nathan questioned. ¡°You tapped into that place already?¡± The Wizard examined James much more closely, his fingers rubbing at his stubble. ¡°You just keep getting interesting, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Why the hell are you so interested in this, anyway?¡± James turned to Nathan, who was already getting on his nerves.

    ¡°Honest truth? I am simply a curious man,¡± Nathan revealed with a shrug. ¡°I¡¯ve been to many places in my travels, learned many things, but this is something beyond my understanding.¡± He grinned. ¡°It is fascinating.¡± The Wizard leaned closer to the dome, his eyes focused on Faust. ¡°The only question I have is how? How did you summon a Centurion out of all the spirits in Hel? Not only that, but a champion of a god, nonetheless.¡±

    Nathan gestured towards Faust¡¯s attire, the edges of the armor engraved with small, almost unnoticeable runes. James blinked, recognizing them as the same runes Faust had during his duel with Kord. As expected, the runes weren¡¯t glowing, meaning that the engravings were dead.

    ¡°You recognize these glyphs?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Of course! Runes in this style are reminiscent of the armor gods used to give to their champions,¡± Nathan explained. ¡°Judging from the lettering, I¡¯d say this spirit was a champion of the God of Order, Caelus!¡±

    Faust blinked, turning to Nathan. ¡°You can read the language of the gods?¡± he asked, almost amazed.

    ¡°Well, not really.¡± Nathan chuckled nervously. ¡°I can only read a little bit. Most other Wizards can do much better.¡±

    ¡°Other Wizards have this ability?!¡± Faust looked in awe at Nathan, as if he was looking at a deity.

    ¡°Of course other spellcasters can read godspeak.¡± The Wizard raised an eyebrow, before realization hit him. ¡°Ah¡­ I forget. You¡¯re older than I thought, eh? Judging from the armor and clothes, I¡¯d say you¡¯re from the era of Cyrus¡¯ Legion? What year was it when you¡­ uh¡­¡± Nathan drew a line at his neck.

    ¡°Died?¡± Faust asked.

    ¡°Yes, that. Sorry, I wanted to make sure if you were still sensitive about that subject,¡± the Wizard explained nervously.

    ¡°One hundred and eighty years after the first wish.¡± Faust muttered. ¡°That¡¯s the calendar you all use, right?¡±

    ¡°Age one-eighty?¡± Nathan blinked. ¡°Wait, what was your name again?¡±

    ¡°Faust. Faust Desimir of Cyrus¡¯ Legion. Champion of Caelus and Slayer of Leonard Kord,¡± Faust boasted with a grin.

    The Wizard stared at the Centurion for a solid couple of seconds, his eyes squinting. ¡°Nope. Doesn¡¯t ring a bell.¡± He snapped his fingers. ¡°I could¡¯ve sworn that year meant something. Although your name does sound familiar.¡±

    Faust stared at Nathan, his grin faltering as his eye twitched. James could feel the spirit¡¯s metaphorical heart break.

    ¡°It¡¯s the year the Legion had lost,¡± Archibald commented. ¡°I remember the stories, how Cyrus¡¯ Champion fell to Eobard Kord. After that, the Lumen Kingdom continued to push until the Legion was no more.¡± The elf furrowed his brow. ¡°They never mentioned the champion¡¯s name.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s bullshit.¡± Faust growled. ¡°That asshole Gryff said he heard of me! That Lumen Knight knew of my past and my name!¡±

    ¡°Gryff? Lumen Knight?¡± Nathan questioned with a raised eyebrow. Both James and Faust cringed at the realization.

    ¡°Long story,¡± James muttered nervously.

    ¡°What in the hell have you two been through?¡± The Wizard raised an eyebrow.

    James couldn¡¯t help but let out a sigh of frustration. ¡°Do you really want to know?¡± He asked.

    The Wizard opened his mouth to answer with an obvious ¡®yes¡¯ but paused a second before. He looked conflicted, almost as if he was contemplating whether he should know this information. Finally, he sighed.

    ¡°No. I don¡¯t want to know. At least not now,¡± Nathan admitted. ¡°Secrets are secrets for a reason, and I don¡¯t need to know every single one. Still, that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m not curious about your friend here.¡± Nathan turned to Faust. ¡°Your connection to the mortal plane is impressively strong. Judging from the strength of your ley lines, you almost have all of your memories back.¡± Nathan furrowed his brow.

    ¡°Yet despite this strong connection with James, the bond flickers,¡± the Wizard muttered to himself, his fingers forming a couple of runes. In a moment, the Wizard¡¯s eyes glowed a light gold, his gaze turning to focus on James.

    Just as he did so, Nathan¡¯s eyes widened with surprise. ¡°Your ley lines. They¡¯re dying.¡± He turned to Faust, mouth agape, as he put two and two together. ¡°The initial wound, Faust healed. It¡¯s still there, barely holding on. The bond you two have is flickering and¡­¡± Nathan trailed off, his arms lowering. ¡°You¡¯re dying.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± James confirmed bitterly. ¡°Do you have any more observations?¡± he asked a second after, not wanting to stay in this dead silence.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m sorry.¡± The Wizard frowned.

    The clan leader sighed. ¡°It¡¯s fine. Let¡¯s just not delve into pity. I came here for a reason and I intend to get it done soon.¡± James turned to the Wizard. ¡°Will you help me with that?¡±

    The Wizard looked at Faust and James, his still-magical eyes examining them both. Finally, he closed his eyelids, the light within them dying. When he opened them, he gave the clan leader a nod, his fingers forming a rune.

    ¡°I¡¯ll help. Dispel Rune Circle.¡±

    <hr>

    Harald looked down at his mug of tea, his focus on the leftover leaf that floated placidly in the steaming liquid. He went to pick it out, all the while ignoring the commotion that clattered around him. He would not focus on that. Harald had warned Bjorn, and the dwarf had decided not to heed it. That was his problem. The veteran brought the tea to his lips, just as some poor sod slid across the bar in front of him, wiping out whatever drinks were on it. The thrown man fell to the floor on the other side of the bar, clearly knocked out. Harald turned his focus back to his tea, tasting the subtle herb and honey that made it up. He sighed in satisfaction.

    ¡°Behind you!¡±

    Dimitri¡¯s voice called out. Harald had already ducked, avoiding the swing of the broken table leg. He had already sensed it coming thanks to his alert skill. Harald didn¡¯t need to turn to see that Bjorn had already taken out that drunk asshole. He instead drank his tea, feeling its warmth reach his stomach.

    ¡°Needs some more honey,¡± Harald muttered. He reached into his satchel, digging past the copper vials of potions. He pulled out a smaller steel vial, his thumb popping open the cork. Harald tilted the vial towards his mug, watching as golden honey slowly poured out. Once he was satisfied with how much he put in, he capped the vial and placed it back in his satchel.

    ¡°Are they done yet?!¡± a man shouted from behind the bar. Harald looked at the brawl behind him, which had started thanks to Bjorn.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem like it. Looks like more people stepped in,¡± Harald sighed. ¡°I think it¡¯s best if you get out of here. Avoid getting hurt.¡±

    The man across the bar raised his head slightly. ¡°I would love to, but¡­¡± He frowned. ¡°My father owns this tavern. If he finds out I left this place during a bar fight¡­¡± The young man shuddered.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like you¡¯re doing him a favor by hiding there,¡± Harald commented.

    ¡°Well, what the hel am I supposed to do? Ask them politely to stop fighting?¡± The bartender refuted.

    ¡°I can probably take care of them,¡± Harald muttered.

    ¡°You would?¡± The young man perked up at that.

    ¡°No promises,¡± Harald admitted. ¡°Stopping a fight isn¡¯t easy or safe.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll pay you if you get them to stop!¡± The bartender pleaded. ¡°I have some silver stashed here somewhere. I¡¯ll give you a proper payment if you take care of it!¡±

    Harald raised an eyebrow. ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure! If this keeps going any longer, the damage costs alone will clean out our coffers,¡± the bartender admitted. Harald pondered the young man¡¯s words, his mind going to his group¡¯s financial troubles. He gave in, sighing as he looked at the young man.

    ¡°Deal. Let me just finish¡ª¡±

    Suddenly, a drunk hit the bar, this one nearly hitting Harald.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± the stranger groaned as he rubbed at his head. Once the man opened his eyes, his expression turned from annoyance to anger. ¡°You!¡± he growled, his wobbly feet slowly standing up. The veteran sighed, his gaze turning to the drunkard.

    ¡°Back away. Now,¡± Harald warned. The drunk didn¡¯t stop to listen, as his fist was already airborne. Harald quickly dodged the attack, his free hand grabbing the stranger¡¯s head. The veteran smashed the drunk¡¯s face against the bar, the man¡¯s teeth audibly clacking on the wooden edge.

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    ¡°Bastard!¡±

    Two voices sounded out from behind Harald. The veteran couldn¡¯t help but let out a breath of frustration. He turned to the brawl that was happening behind him. Two men with red welts and bruises were approaching Harald. The veteran narrowed his eyes as he set his tea aside.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you both the courtesy of a warning. Back off, before you end up like your friend here.¡± He gestured to the drunk from before, who was busy writhing in his own blood and teeth.

    As expected, the two men did not listen. They rushed Harald, one of them even brandishing a broken chair leg. Harald sidestepped the one with a weapon, quickly disarming him. In only a second, the veteran had already broken the bastard¡¯s arm and taken his weapon.

    The disarmed man fell to the ground yelling in pain, the display making his friend falter. Harald looked at the other drunk, using his left hand to beckon the stranger. The other man gritted his teeth, his anger clear in his eyes. He swung at Harald wildly, only to get a chair leg slammed against his temple, knocking him unconscious.

    The drunk had fallen like a bag of bricks, his body slumping against a nearby table. Harald tossed the chair leg aside, his focus turning to the bar. His mug was still there, undisturbed. The veteran made his way to his unfinished drink, hoping to actually finish it before it got cold. As he reached the bar, a hand grabbed at Harald¡¯s cloak.

    ¡°Hey! Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡±

    The veteran took a deep breath, his jaw moving as he grind his teeth. Harald was done with warnings. He thrust back his elbow, slamming it into the man behind him and knocking his air out. Harald turned back to the man he had hurt, watching as the stranger doubled over in pain. He could barely speak as he was trying to regain the air he had lost. Harald could only watch in pity before he knocked him down with a backhand.

    ¡°Hey! That dwarf¡¯s friend just took out Emil! Get him!¡± a drunk voice shouted. The brawl in front of Harald then shifted attention, everyone staring at the veteran. Even Bjorn and Dimitri stopped what they were doing, their faces full of surprise. Harald rubbed at his temple in annoyance, clearly irritated. He let out a breath, his hand moving to beckon the brawlers.

    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s get it over with. My drink is going to get cold soon.¡±

    <hr>

    James looked up to the sky above, which had turned into a darkening orange. The day was ending soon. He frowned, recalling his last experience in the dark streets of Vindis. He had nearly died in a fight, saving the shipmaster from a group of thugs. James remembered that small moment of near death when that hooded man nearly stabbed his throat. It wasn¡¯t his first brush with death, nor was it his last. Yet something about that experience shook James. Was it the suddenness of it all? The random rogue wave that saved him from death? The blond man pushed those thoughts back. It wouldn¡¯t help to think about it.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost there,¡± Nathan called back to James and his party, who were following the Wizard through the winding streets of Vindis. Drunks and shady characters peppered the street, most of them minding their own business as they stuck to their side of the wooden platform. James swore he saw a couple of men complete a deal in the shadows, unbeknownst to the guards nearby. The watch didn¡¯t seem much either, as they were dressed in shoddy cyan tabards and wore kettle-like helmets. They mainly complained about the weather and smoked what looked like rolled tobacco. Or at least, this world¡¯s version of tobacco.

    James noted how Seamus stuck close to him, his left hand close to his belt and satchel of items. Lilith was nearby, staring at the towering city blocks in wonder as Seamus tugged her hand. Archibald was keeping close as well, a couple of feet away from James as he wore a look of disgust on his face. His expression soon turned to revile and anger as a disgusting liquid splashed nearby on the side of the street, filling the air with the smell of shit. James looked up to the window it came from, his fingers moving to pinch at his nose. He spotted a hand pull away a dirty-looking pot from the sill, out of sight.

    ¡°Vile piece of¡­ Ugh!¡± the elf exclaimed as he stepped away from the stream of foulness. He bumped shoulders with James, who was already stepping away from that side of the street. ¡°Why can¡¯t these people dump their chamber pots into the canals like civilized people?¡± Archibald commented.

    ¡°Ha! You talk as if these folk have the time to go to the canal,¡± Nathan called back, his hand raising his hat¡¯s brim to get a better look at Archibald. ¡°We are in the Iron District. People here are too poor to afford proper plumbing or are too busy to waste time carrying their pots to the canals.¡± Nathan gestured to the people still moving around the streets, most of them hurrying to their destinations and ignoring the streams of foul liquid that ran on the platforms.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Be lucky we aren¡¯t in the Copper District. That place is something deserving of disgust and reprieve,¡± the Wizard added as he walked on.

    ¡°There are districts?¡± James asked curiously, ignoring Archibald¡¯s complaints and muttered curses.

    ¡°Of course. Every city has districts. At least the big ones,¡± Nathan answered. ¡°Here in Vindis, districts are sorted by metal grades. Valdora, Gold, Silver, Iron, and Copper.¡±

    ¡°Can you tell me more?¡± James asked as he sped walked to Nathan¡¯s side.

    The Wizard cupped his chin in thought. ¡°Iron and Copper are the poorest districts. Iron, although, is actually productive. This district consists of grunt workers who take jobs as crewmen or basic labor jobs. Copper is at the bottom of the barrel, however. That district of the city is nothing more than slums full of addicts and crazed maniacs,¡± Nathan explained. ¡°The platforms there are also on the edge of breaking apart and sinking. No one dares go there.

    ¡°As for the Silver and Valdora Districts, it¡¯s fairly simple. Silver is where the middle class live. Not poor enough to be scrounging for money but also not rich enough to afford to retire. At best, a citizen in the Silver District can afford a decent hovel and run a fine trade. He¡¯ll live comfortably and frugally for the rest of his years. Perhaps he¡¯ll be able to start a family before he dies. It all depends.¡± The Wizard shrugged.

    ¡°What about the Valdora District?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s where we¡¯re heading.¡± Nathan flashed a grin at James. ¡°The trading district of Vindis. The Valdora District is split into four main parts, all of them positioned near the main harbors of the city. This district houses merchants and traders from different lands, all of whom come to this great city to trade and sell.¡± Nathan raised a half valdora, its blue shine almost glowing in a way. ¡°This is where the real money comes in.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­¡± James nodded, a smile growing at the edge of his lips. ¡°What about the Gold District? Should I even ask?¡± James asked. He could already imagine that part of Vindis being full of pompous, rich assholes.

    ¡°Ah, the Gold District, held by the rich merchants and ¡®nobles¡¯,¡± Nathan expressed a certain disdain at the world ¡®noble¡¯.

    ¡°Nobles? Like royalty?¡±

    ¡°Ha! Royalty,¡± Nathan chuckled. ¡°No, my friend. The nobles here are glorified peasants, like us. They consist of the wealthy clansmen who ¡®own¡¯ this city. Redyr, Olafson, Villtur, Vulpesson, and even Halvorson have stakes in Vindis.¡±

    The mention of Halvorson seemed to have piqued Seamus¡¯ attention.

    ¡°Halvorson?¡± Seamus asked. ¡°They had a stake in Vindis?¡±

    ¡°They still do,¡± Nathan replied. ¡°Well, in a complicated way. After news of Yorn¡¯s death, the Boar and Fox clan started a bloody war over the whole thing. Well, not an actual war. More like a political mess of things. They went at it for a while, coming close to actually fighting over the city. That is, until news that Yorn¡¯s kin survived.¡±

    The Wizard¡¯s words struck James with surprise. He looked at Seamus, whose face went pale.

    ¡°When was this?¡± the young man asked in a breath.

    ¡°A couple months back. Know little of the details, but it turns out that Yorn¡¯s son still lives somewhere south of here. Rumors say that he can reclaim his father¡¯s stake at any time, but I¡¯m not sure how true that is. Jarls tend to be territorial.¡± Nathan shrugged.

    Seamus lagged a bit in his step, his feet now shuffling. ¡°What do you think the son should do?¡± he asked softly, barely audible enough to hear. Still, Nathan seemed to hear the young man, as he glanced at Seamus.

    ¡°My opinion? Yorn¡¯s son should stay away from Vindis. Gods know the Jarls will do anything to keep their stake of power.¡±

    <hr>

    Harald sighed as he sat back in his chair. The tavern was much quieter now, the brawl from before done with. The veteran ran a hand over his bruised face and aching joints. Fighting a stacked battle was going to eventually cost him some pain. He winced as he touched a sensitive welt on his jaw. That was the result of a swung steel mug, the owner of which was currently knocked out behind the bar. Harald turned to the bar, where the bartender was currently hiding behind.

    The young man poked his head out, clearly scared shitless. ¡°Father¡¯s going to kill me,¡± he muttered meekly.

    ¡°Not unless he kills these men first,¡± Harald commented.

    The veteran turned to where he had left his drink on the bar. It was unsplit, yet no vapor rose from it. Harald frowned as he grabbed at the mug, bringing its brim to his lips. He instantly spat it out, his anger clear as he slammed the mug back on the bar. The once steaming tea was now cold to the touch, its once welcoming taste now spoiled.

    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have gotten involved,¡± he muttered to himself, his glance moving to Dimitri and Bjorn, both of whom were at a nearby table, resting from the brawl.

    The shipmaster was nursing his hurting head, his gray stubble spotted with blood. Dimitri had held his own during the brawl, avoiding any major hits. Bjorn, on the other hand, was groaning incoherently as he stemmed the bleeding from his head wound. He had cuts and bruises all over, his beard stained with red. From the looks of it, Bjorn had gotten the worst of it.

    ¡°Was it worth the four gold?¡± Harald growled at him. The dwarf coughed, his hand moving to drag his satchel onto the table. He pulled a small golden flask, his fat fingers opening its hatch. Bjorn downed the liquid before slamming it on the table. He opened and closed his jaw, the small cuts and bruises slowly regaining color.

    Harald raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°Healing potion. You crazy idiot.¡± He shook his head.

    ¡°What¡¯s the harm, eh?¡± Bjorn chuckled as he sipped from the flask. ¡°I¡¯m healed, I¡¯m alive, and I¡¯m itching for another round.¡±

    ¡°The harm is, healing potions are ten gold a vial, its effects dampen with every use, and your liver is going to give out if you keep it up,¡± Harald refuted. ¡°That is, if you don¡¯t get potion sickness first.¡±

    Bjorn frowned at that. ¡°Fuck off,¡± he muttered.

    Harald could only watch as Bjorn drank from his flask. All the while Dimitri rested against his chair. Harald was about to turn back to his drink when his senses suddenly screamed at him, his alert skill causing his hairs to stand on end.

    ¡°What a sight,¡± a voice called out from the tavern¡¯s entrance. The veteran spun around, his gaze focusing on the shady figures that entered the Drunken Draugr. They wore dark capes over their normal clothing, their faces obscured by their hoods. The lead one wore leather armor, his hand brandishing a curved dagger. Harald instinctively moved to his own hidden dagger, but stopped when something cold and sharp pressed against the small of his neck. Harald was still, his blood running like ice water.

    ¡®I didn¡¯t even see him,¡¯ Harald mentally cursed himself.

    ¡°Now now. Let¡¯s not get hasty,¡± the man at the entrance spoke out once again. Harald could see how the remaining patrons wore terrified expressions. Some of them even slipped away, doing their best not to get noticed by these men.

    ¡°What do you want? Money?¡± the veteran asked.

    ¡°Something like that,¡± the hooded man muttered. Harald looked to Bjorn and Dimitri, who were just now realizing the strange men. Bjorn was confused and visibly on edge. Dimitri looked pale, sweat dotting his forehead as he gripped at his sheathed knife.

    The hooded man grinned as he approached, his head turning to the shipmaster and dwarf. ¡°Well now, looks like we finally found you,¡± he spoke out suddenly, his hand moving to point towards Dimitri.

    ¡°Dimitri Palov. Markov has called for you and your friends. Come with us peacefully or face death here and now.¡±

    <hr>

    Seamus felt it again. The young man turned around, his eyes scanning the many stands and groups of people. Nothing out of the ordinary. Seamus frowned. Despite the many people, none of them seemed suspicious nor with malice intent. At least, not to Seamus and his friends. Currently, his group was in the Valdora District marketplace, where multiple stands and tent shops were set up. Cultures here blended and crashed, with colors and smells seemingly otherworldly. Seamus had never experienced this.

    ¡®Perhaps this is why my senses keep acting up.¡¯

    For the last hour, Seamus¡¯ natural alarm had been acting up. He could¡¯ve sworn someone was on his tail, yet every time he had turned, there was nothing.

    ¡°Something wrong?¡± James¡¯ voice called out. Seamus turned to his friend, who was currently waiting for the young man to catch up.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± Seamus lied. James raised a brow, but said nothing as he continued his walk with Nathan. Seamus took one more look behind him, focusing on anything that could be considered suspicious. He was about to keep walking when he spotted someone intentionally hiding behind a tent. Right there, behind one of the trading tents, was the shine of black hair and someone¡¯s curious eye. Seamus blinked, and the person was gone. Before he could process it, Lilith tugged at him to keep moving.

    ¡°Sorry, something caught my eye,¡± he muttered as he turned away from the marketplace.

    Seamus wasn¡¯t sure how to bring his suspicions up to the others without looking like a paranoid fool. It was hard enough to explain his natural alarm, which was already something that Seamus himself knew little about.

    ¡®It could be my nerves. The last time I was in such a populated area was¡­¡¯

    He shook those thoughts away. Seamus didn¡¯t need anymore reminders of home. He didn¡¯t want to think about it during the day. It was already enough that his night terrors haunted him. No need for him to think about it now.

    ¡°Here we are!¡± Nathan suddenly proclaimed. Seamus focused his attention on the Wizard, who was gesturing at a rather large tent. This one differed from the others nearby. It was made with purple cloth, its edges embroidered with golden thread that drew foreign designs. Gold and bluish trinkets hung from its openings, along with beads that varied in color and size. Once Seamus got close enough, he could smell burning incense from its entrance. It was calming and sweet, its scent nothing like Seamus had smelt before. There didn¡¯t seem to be anyone outside of it, making Seamus lead to the conclusion that its owner was inside the tent.

    ¡°Tahir!¡± Nathan suddenly called out. ¡°Xuan? Anyone in there?¡± The Wizard pulled at the tent¡¯s entrance, before a deep voice yelled out in another language. Seamus didn¡¯t understand what was said, but the voice sounded more than a little annoyed at Nathan¡¯s nosiness.

    ¡°Idiot! I was changing!¡± The voice called out again, this time in a tongue the young man could understand. The accent was thick, yet familiar to the young Halvorson. He couldn¡¯t quite place where it came from.

    ¡°My apologies Tahir! I thought you were meditating, judging from the incense,¡± Nathan chuckled.

    ¡°Why are you here, Wizard? I thought we concluded our business days ago.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well, I¡¯ve come back to let you know that I¡¯ve brought customers!¡± Nathan explained.

    ¡°You did what?¡± The voice¡¯s tone changed instantly and the next thing Seamus knew, a man bursted from the tent¡¯s folds. The source of the voice was a large man, taller than James even. He was wrapped in white robes and red cloth, his arms and bald head exposed. His skin was like polished ebony, reflecting the nearby lantern light. A curved sword hung at his side, hastily equipped, judging from how the man had to hold it up.

    ¡®He¡¯s Arenian,¡¯ Seamus finally realized. That explained why his accent was so familiar. The Halvorson fort was home to many merchants, including those from distant lands. That included Azurvalians, Kasani, Dwarves, Halflings, and Arenians. The man¡¯s accent was something Seamus hadn¡¯t heard in a long time, but combined with the dark skin, strange sword, and foreign clothing, his memory finally clicked.

    ¡°You brought customers?¡± The man named Tahir asked, his eyebrow raising at the sight of everyone present.

    Before Nathan could respond, Tahir opened his arms wide, his lips forming into a wide grin. ¡°Welcome friends! If you can give me a minute.¡± He gestured to his tent before entering it. Clattering could be heard inside the tent, followed by hushed curses. James looked at Seamus, a confused look on his face, before he turned to Nathan.

    The Wizard sighed. ¡°He likes to be, uh¡­eccentric.¡± After some more audible movements and muffled humming, the tent¡¯s flaps opened. They were greeted with a lineup of trinkets, bottles, books, and even some daggers.

    Tahir stood behind it all, with his robes now neatly straightened and his sword resting at his side. ¡°Well now! Have a gander! These are all authentic Areno artifacts and keepsakes, almost all of them affordable.¡±

    Seamus looked to James, who stared blankly at the shop before him. ¡°Nathan?¡± he asked, confused.

    ¡°Uh, Tahir, these people are not that kind of customer,¡± the Wizard nervously chuckled. Tahir blinked, his gaze moving to James and Seamus.

    ¡°What do you mean not that kind of customer? My shop is usually what people come to me for. Well, unless you¡¯re here for Xuan,¡± Tahir muttered that last part with what Seamus could assume was jealousy. ¡°Kasani goods are overrated. I give the best stuff! Authentic pieces, not whatever that ass is selling,¡± he huffed.

    ¡°They¡¯re not looking for those kinds of goods.¡± Nathan clarified.

    ¡°Oh, you mean supplies and rations? Sugar and spices?¡± Tahir turned to the Wizard with genuine curiosity.

    ¡°It¡¯s something like that.¡± James spoke up finally, the blond man stepping up to the trader before him.

    ¡°Well, if you want to buy, I can direct you to a worker of mine by the harbor. He¡¯ll get you what you need,¡± Tahir explained.

    James shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s something else. Something more than that. I¡¯d like to cut you a sort of deal. Something that can benefit us both greatly.¡± The Arenian stared at James for a few seconds, silent as he seemingly pondered his answer.

    ¡°Come into my tent. You and I shall discuss it in private.¡±

    <hr>

    James looked around the roomy interior of Tahir¡¯s tent, fascinated by its decor. Soft pillows and ornate blankets covered the ground, making it far more comfortable than the hard platform below. There was an incense burner hanging nearby, its scent wafting into James¡¯ nostrils. It smelled of resin and flowers. James noted how much roomier the tent was now that he was inside, its warmth welcoming for the young man.

    ¡®Never seen anything like this,¡¯ Faust muttered.

    ¡®You never encountered a culture like this?¡¯ James asked curiously. Judging from the clothing and decorations, this entire tent reminded the blond man of Arabian culture, with its ornamental decor and colorful look.

    ¡®No. I have heard of Areno in my past life but I have never encountered it.¡¯ The spirit sounded curious, as if he wanted to learn more about Arenian culture.

    Before James could converse some more, a voice distracted him. ¡°So, what is it that brings you here?¡± Tahir asked suddenly. James pulled his attention from the decor and Faust, focusing on Tahir.

    ¡°Like I said before. I¡¯m here to cut you a deal.¡± James shifted on his pillow, moving to grab something from his satchel. Tahir watched curiously, but not without caution. After some sifting through the contents of his bag, James finally found what he was looking for. ¡°There you are,¡± he muttered. James pulled out a roll of parchment. He unfurled it, showcasing its contents.

    The parchment James held displayed the of Valenfrost, its cities and landmarks marked with red. Not only did it showcase the major islands of the nomadic nation, but it also showed the black sea to its eastern side. While Valenfrost¡¯s western side faced Azurvale¡¯s coast, its eastern and southern side faced nothing but ocean. At least for a couple thousand miles. Beyond the ¡®Abyssal Sea¡¯ marked east of Valenfrost, were Areno and Kasan, their major ports marked at their coasts. Trade routes were marked and traced, showing that trader ships traveled non stop through the black sea to reach Bernis and Haven¡¯s ports, where most of their business took place.

    All of this information, map included, was courtesy of Lowe Arclite, Helen Dunn, and Dahlia Astera. Their combined knowledge of trade routes was put together not long before the Bloom festival. All they had to do after was to get a cartographer to craft it for them. James had to painfully wait for that map to be finished before he went out to act on his plan. He looked to Tahir, who raised an eyebrow at the map.

    ¡°Pretty good representation of the trade routes. Missing some parts, but it¡¯s a solid map. Why do you show me this?¡± Tahir asked.

    ¡°Look here,¡± James pointed to the major trade route from Areno¡¯s major ports. ¡°Most of these routes converge into a long voyage to Bernis, which is three months at sea. Even with magical assistance, the fastest voyage to Bernis is only a little more than a couple of months,¡± James explained. ¡°That¡¯s because most traders avoid here.¡± James pointed at Yorktown, which was the most eastern and southern of the islands in Valenfrost. ¡°Yorktown is the closest to the Areno ports. A trip from ¡®Dallah¡¯ to here will only take a month without magical assistance!¡±

    James recalled the magical assistance Dahlia had explained to him. From what he remembered, magic was rarely used on ships. The most common types, however, were artificial wind and the use of runic gates, which itself was a rarity and only found on certain ships. Teleportation was also a thing in this world, but it was complicated, rarer than runic gates, could only be used a couple times a day, and it limited transport to a small amount of people and cargo. In short, magic was out of the question for the common trading ship. Because of this, voyage time was important for cargo and traders. Which was why James wanted to act on the opportunity to showcase Yorktown.

    ¡°If you consider the time and resources you save, Yorktown is also close to Vindis, which is where most traders stop by after Bernis. Taking that into consideration, Yorktown is an opportunity waiting to happen,¡± James finished.

    Tahir was silent for a moment, as if taking in James¡¯ words. He looked at the map with a focused look, his hand cupped around his chin in thought. He shook his head.

    ¡°James, my friend, you are not the only person to suggest this. Yorktown is a good choice. In fact, it used to be a popular destination for traders such as I. However, the Outsider Wars changed all that,¡± Tahir revealed. ¡°Barbarians raided trader ships that got too close to the south. It cut many ties and isolated Yorktown even more than it already was. Even after the war, raiders and bandits preyed on ships around the southern islands. It has only gotten worse in recent years.¡± He rubbed at his bald scalp, shaking his head. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know there was a town still there. At least that¡¯s what it seems like. Otherwise, you wouldn¡¯t be here vouching for it. That¡¯s where you¡¯re from, right?¡±

    James nodded in confirmation.

    ¡°So you are,¡± Tahir sighed. ¡°Then you should know about the reputation surrounding the southern islands. Marauders, bandits, and even a draugr lurking around there. Bad business, I say, too dangerous for traders such as myself and my company.¡±

    James blinked. ¡°I thought word in the south spread fast? Did you not hear?¡±

    ¡°What? Hear about what?¡±

    The blond man chuckled at Tahir¡¯s confusion. James leaned forward, his hand pulling his cloak aside to show his chest. Painted over his heart was the symbol of a white raven.

    ¡°Yorktown isn¡¯t just some dainty little fishing town anymore. It¡¯s more than that,¡± James started.

    Tahir stared at the symbol, his confusion still there. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I mean that there¡¯s a growing clan willing to cut you a deal. No more bandits, long voyages or outrageous taxes. All we ask for in return is for you to send trade ships our way,¡± James offered.

    ¡°No more bandits? Not even marauders or orcs?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly, but we¡¯re thinning out their presence by the day. Soon, it¡¯ll be nothing but raven ships and passing merchants.¡± James waited for Tahir¡¯s response.

    The merchant looked more than cautious about this, yet he smiled. ¡°So you wish to bring it back to its former glory days? To what it used to be before the war?¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯m planning on making it better than the glory days. Yorktown is going to be the home of something bigger and better.¡± James extended his bandaged hand to Tahir¡¯s, showcasing the frost magic that formed on its fingertips.

    ¡°All I¡¯m asking is for you to be a part of our uprising.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 14: Like Thieves in the Night

    ¡°Well, it could¡¯ve been worse,¡± James said.

    ¡°It¡¯s understandable, really,¡± Seamus added. ¡°I doubt any sane person would outright put faith in you. We¡¯re lucky Tahir¡¯s willing to risk a little.¡±

    ¡°The Wizard also helped. I don¡¯t think he would even consider you if it wasn¡¯t for him,¡± Archibald spoke up from behind.

    ¡°Two ships to Yorktown is still a good thing. Once they realize that the southern edge is safe, Tahir will surely take your word as truth,¡± Seamus continued.

    ¡°Yeah, but how long is that going to take? What if a wandering bandit raids their trading ships? I¡¯m on a literal deadline here,¡± James reminded.

    ¡°Well, I guess you¡¯re going to have put faith into it, just as much as Tahir is going to put on you.¡± Seamus sighed, his hand gently tugging Lilith away from investigating the nearby canal.

    The party of four were currently walking their way to where they were to meet up with Harald and the others. Nathan had gone off to his shop, leaving the group on their own to navigate the streets of Vindis that were near the marketplace plaza. It wasn¡¯t all too bad, as there seemed to be a sizable number of people walking in the street, along with lanterns strung about.

    Once nightfall had hit, the lanterns illuminated the street with their glow. James spotted some people marketing off some items on the side, their variety of items resting on small rugs. Of course, it was the usual scam artist stuff. Scrolls of unlimited power, rare pins of numerous enchantments, fruits of your wildest dreams, all for the low price of 25 silver. James obviously passed on every offer made to him.

    Swindlers and scam artists weren¡¯t the only ones on the lit streets, as James spotted scantily clad escorts parading around the nearby inns and plaza. They wore heavy amounts of makeup, along with glittering trinkets that called attention to them. James noted the sense of magical energy emanating from them. It seemed as if some of the escorts used magic to enhance themselves in some way.

    James had to avoid the advances of some of these women¡ªand men¡ªdoing his best to ignore and politely decline every offer they made. That included some¡­ questionable offers James didn¡¯t want to think about. Seamus seemed to have some trouble as well, as he did his best to dodge any sneaky hugs or grabby hands. Lilith, however, was doing just fine. The red-haired berserker growled at anyone who dared near her, including both male and female escorts.

    Archibald, on the other hand, was smitten by the advances. The elf was visibly red, his stoic look from before now gone, replaced by a dreamy look.

    ¡°Archibald! We have to get going!¡± James called back to the elf, who was currently doing his best to sweet talk to two of the female escorts.

    ¡°Can¡¯t we take a break? Maybe even have some fun?¡± Archibald asked, his voice giddy as one escort tugged at his arm.

    James pinched at the bridge of his nose. ¡°Oh, for god¡¯s sake¡ªHe has no money!¡± he shouted out in frustration, hoping that his call out would do anything.

    It worked like a charm. The women gathering around Archibald suddenly lost interest, their group dispersing faster than a group of flies. The elf blinked in confusion.

    ¡°No no wait! I got money! Let me just¡­uh¡­¡± Archibald dug at his pockets and satchel, to no avail.

    James knew the elf was broke, which was the entire reason he was here with the group in the first place.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get going. It¡¯s getting late,¡± James called out. With that, the young clan leader led on the group, with Archibald dragging his feet in the very rear.

    As they walked their way to the edge of the plaza, the amount of people slowly thinned out. Soon, the only people around were the occasional swindler and a small crowd of folks making their way to the side streets of Vindis.

    Seamus suddenly nudged at James¡¯ elbow. ¡°Don¡¯t look now, but there is someone following,¡± he muttered.

    James resisted the urge to look at Seamus. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I mean, someone has been tailing us since we left Nathan¡¯s shop. I thought it might¡¯ve been a coincidence or my senses acting up, but I seriously doubt it now,¡± Seamus whispered. ¡°When we turn up ahead, act as if you¡¯re adjusting your satchel. Take that chance to look for them.¡±

    James gave a slight nod. ¡°Alright.¡±

    ¡®When you take the peek, make sure not to lock eyes with them. It¡¯ll tip them off.¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice echoed out.

    ¡®Have you been tailed before?¡¯

    ¡®You can say something like that. Just keep calm and follow Seamus¡¯ lead.¡¯

    James could see their turn coming up ahead, his hand drifting to the satchel that hung on his right. As soon as he made the turn, James glanced quickly. Right then and there, he spotted the stalker. It was hard not to notice her. It was a young woman with black hair, a blue cloak wrapped around her tunic and breeches. She had no armor nor weapon visible, the only thing close enough being that of the instrument slung on her back. James was briefly confused, which caused him to accidentally lock eyes with the stalker.

    ¡®Idiot!¡¯ Faust reprimanded. The brief awkward moment was enough for the stalker to immediately turn away, walking off quickly before James had the chance to say anything.

    ¡°Shit,¡± James cursed. He debated whether to follow the strange woman, but had his chance squandered when she disappeared from sight.

    Seamus turned in response to James¡¯ reaction, his own resembling that of relief. ¡°Looks like you scared them off,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± James sighed. ¡°Being followed, it worries me. How do we know they won¡¯t come back?¡± He turned to his group.

    Archibald shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s Vindis. It was probably a thief, looking to nab your coin purse. Not uncommon.¡±

    Seamus turned to James. ¡°Let¡¯s keep moving. I bet you¡¯ll feel better after a good night¡¯s sleep.¡±

    He tried to seem comforting, but James knew Seamus was on edge, the other man¡¯s nervous fingers sporadically tapping at his wrapped sword. Even Lilith seemed nervous, her eyes darting at the dark areas of the street.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s move,¡± James agreed finally.

    The party moved onto their current destination, which was the harbor¡¯s plaza. Once there, they would have to meet up with Harald and have the veteran guide them to whatever tavern they found to bed in. As they walked, the streets grew darker, with less and fewer people walking by. The buildings seem to get closer as well, as the streets they walked through grew narrower. At some point, James spotted a person passed out on the side of the path, their eyes gazing out into the night sky.

    Archibald frowned at the sight. ¡°Dust users. We must be getting close to the lower income areas.¡±

    ¡°Dust users?¡± James commented.

    ¡°Those addicted to Moon Dust,¡± Seamus muttered softly. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of them before. My mother told me of them and why they cannot be saved.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± James turned to Seamus. James was familiar with addicts from Earth, as he had lived in bad neighborhoods before. He had seen the heroin users pass out in secluded alleyways, watched meth heads twitch and freak out at gas stations. Still, he knew those people could be rehabilitated, even if it was difficult. So it boggled his mind when he heard Seamus say that dust users could not be saved. ¡°What even is Moon Dust?¡±

    ¡°Moon Dust is an ingredient vital to health potions,¡± Seamus explained. ¡°The reason why is that it nullifies the pain of anyone suffering. Health potions need it so that people won¡¯t spit out the concoction or scream and squirm as their body forcefully heals their wounds. Of course, alchemists initially thought it would be wise to apply it to any potion that causes pain or discomfort. It didn¡¯t really work out well, since people got easily addicted to it,¡± Seamus revealed. ¡°Moon Dust in small amounts is relatively harmless, but when you overuse it and take too much¡­¡±

    Seamus trailed off for a moment, his gaze moving back to the dust user before him. James could see how this man¡¯s sunken eyes were devoid of any color, their gray irises gazing at nothingness.

    ¡°Clerics from before have concluded that the dust slowly eats at your brain,¡± Seamus continued softly, his voice a decibel above whispering. ¡°Specifically, at areas that apparently control emotions and memories. Moon Dust puts your body at ease, makes any pain go away, and it also affects the way you think. Those who become addicted are lost because their brains are already mush. Nothing can save them because the damage to their brains is irreparable. That causes them migraines and severe pain, so much so that the only thing that can quell it is¡­¡±

    ¡°Moon Dust,¡± James finished in a murmur.

    Seamus nodded. ¡°Exactly. It¡¯s why there¡¯s a limit to how many health potions you can drink in a short time. Take too many in a brief time span and you might find yourself addicted. The limit varies from person to person, but the clerics had deemed it to be four vials before you lose your mind.¡±

    ¡°Four is the limit. Got it,¡± James muttered.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have to worry about the limit, though,¡± Seamus pointed out. ¡°These days, most alchemists put a failsafe in the potions. If you try to drink over the recommended limit, potion sickness will set in. After that, you¡¯ll vomit out any more concoctions you put in your body.¡±

    ¡°How do you know about this stuff?¡± James asked. It was surprising to see Seamus to spout out random trivia about potions and alchemical ingredients. He had never brought up such things until now.

    ¡°Some of it is common knowledge, but as for the alchemy stuff, well¡­ my mother was an alchemist,¡± Seamus revealed. ¡°She was the one who taught me how to read and, in the process, gave me some knowledge about potions.¡±

    James raised an eyebrow at that. The young man before him had rarely ever brought up his family other than Yorn.

    ¡®I guess he¡¯s slowly opening up around me.¡¯

    ¡°I think we took a wrong turn,¡± Archibald suddenly spoke out.

    ¡°What?¡± James turned to the elf. ¡°Lost? I thought you knew where we were at?¡± The elf was the designated guide, as he had ventured into Vindis longer than the rest of the party.

    ¡°I had, up until we tried to lose that stalker. I got mixed up a little.¡± Archibald shrugged. ¡°I think we should retrace our steps. If we can get back to the plaza, we can¡ª¡± He stopped.

    James was about to ask what was wrong, but his words were stuck in the back of his throat. Something cold brushed past him, almost as if it was a breeze. He blinked, and the feeling wandered specifically to his left.

    ¡®James,¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice suddenly called out. James didn¡¯t have to say anything back.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    In an instant, James¡¯ left hand shot to the wandering cold, his grip grasping at nothing. However, his fingers did not grab at the air. In a blink, a man materialized in front of him, his eyes wide with shock and fear. James felt his eyes burn with magical power, the other men in black cloaks suddenly visible to him.

    ¡°Reveal yourselves!¡±

    James felt as Faust¡¯s words came through him as if he was a megaphone. The men did as asked, coming out of the shadows with curved daggers in their hands. Seamus and Archibald immediately reacted loudly, the cold air filled with cursing as both men backed away from the hooded figures. Lilith growled and prepared to lunge, but Seamus held her back, whispering to the berserker to calm down as he signed to her. Archibald already had his rapier drawn, his forehead wet with sweat.

    James looked at the man in his grasp, the stranger¡¯s hands raised as if he was in surrender.

    ¡®Thanks for grabbing him for me. I doubt my reaction speed would¡¯ve been fast enough to catch him.¡¯ James silently thanked Faust.

    ¡°Who are you people? Why were you following us?¡± James asked the cloaked men.

    ¡°We¡¯re here on orders from Markov,¡± one man answered. ¡°You and your friends are to be brought to him immediately.¡±

    ¡°Why is that?¡± James shook the man he was holding. ¡°What does he want from me?¡±

    The stranger blinked and stammered, ¡°I-It¡¯s to answer for your interference in his business with Dimitri Palov.¡±

    ¡°Dimitri?¡± James furrowed his brow. He recalled the fight from months before. He remembered one man warning Dimitri of a man called ¡®Markov¡¯.

    ¡®Shit. I knew this was coming back to bite me in the ass.¡¯

    James mentally groaned. He closed his eyes, feeling the heat from his skull die down. He knew he couldn¡¯t take these men down. Even if he tried, James assumed that this Markov person was someone he did not want to piss off. At least, not more than he already was. The blond man released the stranger from his grasp, watching the cloaked figure hit the ground out of surprise. He scurried back, his right hand pulling out his dagger.

    James raised an eyebrow, realizing that the other men around him looked hesitant and bewildered. They were cautious of James, as if the young clan leader was a serious threat. James saw it as ridiculous, but then realized that they had watched a man grab someone using Shadow Step, an ability that made the user borderline invisible. They had also seen his burning eyes and Faust¡¯s inhuman reaction. Of course they were cautious.

    ¡®Ain¡¯t that something.¡¯

    ¡°James, what do we do?¡± Seamus muttered behind James.

    The clan leader turned to Seamus. ¡°Just follow my lead. Alright?¡±

    Seamus stared at James for a few seconds before hesitantly nodding. Even Archibald seemed distrustful. Still, both men muttered their responses.

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    ¡°Fine¡­¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± James sighed before he turned to the cloaked men, raising his hands in the air.

    ¡°We surrender. Take us to your boss.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Can I take it off yet?¡±

    James asked once again. He felt one man push him again. ¡°Shut it. You are not here as a guest. Remember this,¡± the voice growled. James sighed in frustration, but did nothing as the man pushed him some more. He couldn¡¯t see where he was going, so he relied on the voices and footsteps to lead him to wherever their hideout was. This had been going on for the past hour, and James¡¯ blindfold was starting to itch.

    ¡°Look, I don¡¯t even know Vindis that well, so this thing?¡± He pointed to the cloth wrapped around his eyes. ¡°Kinda pointless.¡±

    ¡°Shut it! Or else we¡¯ll slit your throat and throw you down the canal!¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± James muttered. He felt the man push him some more, through some sort of hallway judging from the echoing of his voice and walls his fingers brushed against. Finally, James felt the shoving stop. Before he could question once more, the blindfold was ripped away. He was blinded by the light inside the room they were in. Where he was expecting a drug den full of men in cloaks, or a cult-like following, he saw something else.

    He was in a meeting room of some sort, with a decorated carpet and banners of green hung around the walls, displaying the symbol of a valdora coin, a small hand picking it out from above. There was a second-floor railing above it all, with bookshelves and display shelves visible beyond it.

    James blinked, realizing the men in black were all circling the surrounding railing. They all looked identical, their hoods covering their faces. Underneath their capes, however, showed that they were all different. James noted that each of the men and women had tunics and dresses underneath their dark cloaks, all of them varying in detail and color. Some had visible weapons, while others had satchels and books. James even spotted what looked to be the cyan tabard of a city guard.

    ¡°Where the hell am I?¡± James muttered.

    ¡°I have no idea,¡± Seamus¡¯ voice sounded out behind him. James turned to his friend, who was accompanied by Lilith and Archibald. The elf looked downright terrified, his face pale with fear as he stared at the men and women in black. Lilith looked confused and angry, ready to lunge at whoever. Seamus was already holding her back, but he too looked agitated. James realized that they all still bore their weapons. Archibald and his rapier, Seamus had his sword, and even Lilith carried her ax.

    ¡°James!¡± a voice shouted from across the room. The blond man turned to the source, his eyes spotting a familiar veteran. Harald was there, bruised and bloodied. Accompanying him were Dimitri and Bjorn, both of them in a similar state of direness. James could feel anger boiling underneath his chest. Harald seemed to notice this and raised his hands.

    ¡°This was not them. We got into a little¡­ scuffle before we were apprehended,¡± the veteran explained.

    James felt his rising anger quickly dissipate, replaced with confusion. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± Bjorn muttered.

    ¡°It really isn¡¯t,¡± a voice suddenly called from above. James turned to the railing above. The cloaked figures parted suddenly, leaving an open space for an older man in a black and green cloak that bore a small pin that displayed a gold coin. He wore no hood, revealing his scarred cheek and graying hair. He rested his hands on the railing.

    ¡°The dwarf down there lost a bet of four gold against another man. He escalated things and caused a bar fight. Your friends down there got involved and won the fight,¡± the man explained.

    Bjorn scowled at him. He moved to say something biting, but was held back by Harald. James ignored the dwarf¡¯s reaction, his feet moving closer to the center of the room.

    ¡°Markov, I presume?¡±

    ¡°You must be James Holter. Dimitri¡¯s friend, no?¡± Markov asked. ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask. Given that you were on your first visit to Vindis, why did you risk your own life for a drunk indebted to me?¡±

    ¡°Because I couldn¡¯t let myself walk away from someone getting beat to near death,¡± James answered, his voice edging on anger.

    Markov laughed at that. ¡°Heart of gold for some meaningless drunk. What fun!¡±

    James felt his eye twitch at that. ¡°That ¡®meaningless drunk¡¯ saved my life, you know? Fought orcs and Lumen soldiers. He¡¯s already proved that he¡¯s more than a drunk bum to me.¡±

    ¡°To you. To me and my guild, he has been nothing but a walking disaster,¡± Markov sighed. ¡°Dimitri owes us money. He has been in debt for years now. The night you found him was the night we gave up on trying to get our money back.¡± Markov focused his gaze on Dimitri, who was trying his best to blend in with the wall. ¡°Fifty valdoras he owes us. That¡¯s five thousand silver pieces. We brought him and you here to see if you can pay it off.¡± Markov rested his cheek on his fist. ¡°Do you have the money?¡±

    James felt his heart drop at the price. He swallowed hard, doing his best to keep his cool. ¡°No¡­but we can probably work out some sort of¡ª¡±

    He was cut off by the sound of daggers being unsheathed by the men on the ground floor.

    ¡°Wait!¡± James held out his hands to the men behind him.

    ¡°No more deals. No more waiting and certainly no more working it out!¡± Markov shouted. ¡°Our patience runs thin! We had hoped you might have the coin for this drunk bastard, but it seems as if you do not.¡±

    ¡°Hey! Give me a chance, will you?!¡± James shouted back. ¡°I just got here! Of course I don¡¯t have the money! Did you really think I came prepared for whatever this is?!¡± James gestured to the people in cloaks. ¡°This is some cultist shit I didn¡¯t even know existed! You can¡¯t expect me to have fifty fucking valdoras on me!¡±

    Markov only stared at the blond man, his facial expression unmoving. He looked at the men on the ground floor before waving his uninterested hand.

    The men nodded and continued to James.

    ¡°Are you fucking kidding¡ªFaust!¡± James was done with talking his way out of it. Diplomacy didn¡¯t seem to work, so it was on to Plan B. He felt his eyes burst with magical heat. The dim room suddenly was illuminated with a bluish glow, surprising everyone. The hooded men backed off, raising their daggers in defense.

    Even Seamus panicked. ¡°James? What are you doing?!¡±

    James waved off Seamus and Harald, both of whom were trying to stop him. The rest of his friends, though, didn¡¯t seem keen on getting near to James. Archibald stared at James with a look of surprise, blinking as he backed away slowly. Even Lilith cautiously took steps back. Bjorn was the only one unsurprised, his wide grin showing that he was more than glad to see James let out his power.

    ¡°You won¡¯t be able to leave this place alive,¡± Markov suddenly stated, his expression unmoving as he stared down at the blond man.

    ¡°Maybe. But will you be willing to lose more men than you can afford?¡± James called out. ¡°You don¡¯t seem like the kind of person to waste that many resources on a problem.¡± He watched as Markov¡¯s eyebrow raised.

    ¡°What do you know about me and my people?¡±

    ¡°I know you weren¡¯t planning on killing us. Otherwise, you wouldn¡¯t have blindfolded us.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s to say that my mind hasn¡¯t changed?¡±

    ¡°Do you really want to risk losing so much to one man?¡±

    James could feel how Faust forced more energy into his eyes, making it flare up some more. This time, Markov¡¯s eyes narrowed at James¡¯ visage. The blond man knew what he was looking at and he knew Markov was considering whether or not it would be worth it to kill James.

    ¡°So you¡¯re the draugr that has every bandit in the south shitting their pants,¡± Markov muttered audibly. James continued to stare down at the other man, feeling how his skull heated with incredible intensity. A migraine even formed, causing the clan leader to waver slightly.

    ¡®Do you think he¡¯ll give in?¡¯ Faust asked.

    ¡®He has to. Otherwise we¡¯re screwed.¡¯

    Judging from the ally to potential enemy ratio, things were not looking good. Half of his party was bruised and bloodied. He didn¡¯t even have health potions on him and his only spell was Carapace. This show of power was a desperate bluff meant to intimidate Markov and his goons. Still, this was James¡¯ ace in the hole from the hand he was dealt with. He didn¡¯t have any other options or tactics.

    Markov was still for a moment, the cloaked figures around him hesitant. James could see how their daggers wavered.

    Finally, Markov sighed. ¡°Sheathe your weapons,¡± he called out to the men on the ground floor. They quickly did as asked, backing away from the center of the room. Markov turned to James, his gaze fixated on the blond man¡¯s own. For a moment, they stood there, staring each other down. The man above them grinned.

    ¡°You have balls threatening me. I¡¯ll give you that. In this business, one has to bare their blade to keep another sheathed,¡± Markov explained. ¡°If you will, there is another way you can repay Dimitri¡¯s debt.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± James focused his will, his eyes slowly going back to normal. The raging heat in his skull finally died down, his migraine dissipating.

    ¡°Eager, are we?¡± Markov chuckled.

    ¡°Just tell me.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s get to it then. There is a necromancer that has been a problem for us.¡±

    ¡°Problem?¡±

    ¡°He has been caught taking the corpses of our members and robbing them of their possessions. Basically, he has stolen from us.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you just send in a couple of your own to take him out?¡±

    ¡°I have. Twice. Those men have been missing for months now.¡±

    James blinked in surprise. ¡°And you¡¯re sending me?¡±

    ¡°This is how you repay me,¡± Markov pointed out. ¡°Either do it or die in that spot.¡±

    James clicked his tongue in frustration. ¡°I¡¯ll do it,¡± he muttered behind gritted teeth.

    ¡°Good. The necromancer has a hovel in the copper district, bordering the iron district, according to my scouts. I can send my men to guide you to it.¡±

    ¡°What about my friends?¡± James asked.

    ¡°You may only take three of your allies. We shall keep the rest with us. Make no mistake, Holter. If you attempt to leave Vindis¡­Well, you can surely guess the consequence.¡±

    ¡°Got it.¡± James answered bluntly. Markov spoke out to his men in a different tongue, his words rapid and blunt. The men on the ground floor complied, moving to James with the blindfolds.

    ¡°Choose your friends and you shall part right away in the slums,¡± Markov called out.

    James frowned. ¡°You¡¯re not going to give me time to get ready? That¡¯s not really fair, is it?¡±

    ¡°Ha! Dear friend, you truly are na?ve.¡± Markov chuckled. ¡°Life, as a rule of thumb, is never fair.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 15: The Slums

    Gwenyth Sterling peered through the spotting glass, her eye focusing on the island that was Buravon. Despite the coming night, the town was clearly visible, thanks to a glow that hung beyond the docks. Gwenyth couldn¡¯t really focus on the details, but she assumed that all was well with the small settlement.

    ¡°How much longer?¡± William called out from below the mast.

    Gwenyth turned to the herald, her hands collapsing the spotting glass. ¡°Just a bit longer. Buravon is visible, but not close¡­¡± Gwenyth swung her legs around on the beam she was situated on. She slid down the mast¡¯s length before landing cleanly on the deck. William was resting up a nearby crate, his hands gripping the mast tightly. ¡°Have you ever been on a ship?¡± Gwenyth asked, raising an eyebrow as she sat nearby.

    ¡°Not since the war,¡± William admitted. ¡°Even then, I was not the best at holding it in.¡± The man shuddered.

    ¡°A herald prone to seasickness,¡± Gwenyth muttered.

    ¡°So?¡± William asked. ¡°Heralds aren¡¯t gods. We¡¯re just chosen by them,¡± he added. ¡°We too can get sick, be afraid, and have weaknesses.¡±

    ¡°Then tell me, how were you chosen?¡± Gwenyth pressed. ¡°You were fighting in a war that involved a lot of naval combat, were you not? It¡¯s hard to imagine a goddess would be impressed by a man who can¡¯t stand the movement of waves.¡± She knew William had earned his status from a battle years back, around the end of the Outsider Wars. The elf herself did not fight in that conflict, so she knew little the details.

    William¡¯s expression darkened at her words, his gaze moving to the deck. ¡°It was a long time ago,¡± he muttered. ¡°I was barely a man, working to become a Lumen Knight.¡±

    Gwenyth furrowed her brow at the herald, who seemed to hesitate after every word. She wondered if it was right to allow him to continue with his story. She herself knew how painful it was to recall things of the past. Still, before her choice could be made, William continued.

    ¡°I was in a company stationed on the coast, south of Norum. Our company commander decided it would be best to move up to help an island under siege by barbarians. Arriving there, a barbarian ship collided with ours. Commander died and half our company was reduced. We were then put under command by another man who led a separate troop.¡±

    William went silent for a moment, as if he was recalling the moment. His hands were no longer shaking, his body suddenly still.

    ¡°The troop leader took us in and in a moment of pride and ego, he charged us forth the awaiting barbarians at the siege.¡± William took a deep breath. ¡°That bastard got nearly everyone killed. Went in without orders from the upper command. Good men lost their lives. All for a small island. That was the work of Azlene¡¯s former herald.¡± He clenched his fists tightly. ¡°All that death, it was worthless. We lost regardless. It was a miracle he and I made it out alive. After that shitshow, I challenged him to a duel.¡± William looked at Gwenyth. ¡°You¡¯re familiar with deity sanctioned duels?¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± the elf answered. She had seen more than she cared for during her time in Azurvale. The rules for such a duel were simple. One or both duelists represent a god, fighting for their honor. Whoever lost was humiliated and lost whatever respect they had beforehand. Of course, in the case of a deity-sanctioned duel, the herald loses more than their self honor. They lose their god¡¯s favor, which goes to the winner along with their personal castings exclusive to the deity they once represented.

    ¡°I challenged him, in the name of my lost brothers. He accepted and defended his choice, representing the goddess Azlene. We fought,¡± William continued. He looked at his right hand, his left pulling his sleeve back a little. ¡°He was good, better in some respects. But I was angry, filled with a fiery will that overpowered his own. I won that fight, out of the sheer determination of wanting to avenge my fellow men. I didn¡¯t expect to take his place as herald.¡± William turned his palm over to Gwenyth, revealing a mark on his wrist.

    Upon inspecting it closer, Gwenyth recognized the symbol of the goddess Azlene. It was a black mark that resembled a flame¡¯s flickering form.

    ¡°Who would have known that such a small thing could have changed my life so drastically?¡± William chuckled dryly. ¡°What I wouldn¡¯t do to be back in Lumen with my fellow soldiers.¡±

    ¡°We all have our regrets,¡± Gwenyth muttered. Gods knew what things she would change. The people she could have saved, the things she would have preserved. The elf dug into her pocket, her fingers brushing against a small rock that bore a piece of golden ore. ¡°But those regrets make us better people. It makes us remember that we¡¯re still ourselves. That we haven¡¯t changed.¡±

    William raised an eyebrow. ¡°I see despite being hundreds of years old, you¡¯re still human on the inside. Or elf. Well, actually¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t ruin the moment,¡± Gwenyth sighed.

    ¡°Sorry. Forgot that you had pointed ears.¡± William nervously laughed.

    The elf couldn¡¯t help but touch her rounded ears, something that resulted from illusory means. ¡°You¡¯re fine,¡± she breathed out. Gwenyth felt uncomfortable without her pointed ears. It had become a tick for her to touch at them, to make sure they were still there. That nervous tick was the result of an old bad habit of more than a century ago.

    Back then, Gwenyth had been desperate and living in fear. Of course, she was only a couple hundred years old at the time, her emotions running wild and her life on the line. Now things were different, a far cry from the elf she used to be. Still, Gwenyth found herself reminiscing about those times, despite their chaotic nature. Although she had been fighting for her life back then, those years were the most she had ever felt alive.

    ¡°Are you smiling?¡± William suddenly asked. Gwenyth snapped out of her thoughts, her face gaining a flush as she stood up.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Forget you saw it.¡± She quickly dismissed herself before the herald could get another word out. Gwenyth walked off from William, instead heading off to the bow of the ship.

    ¡®I need to stop thinking about it. It¡¯s been over a century now. There¡¯s no reason to keep remembering.¡¯

    Gwenyth pushed her recovering memories to the back of her mind, instead focusing on the oncoming island. Buravon was becoming more and more visible, to where Gwenyth could see the docks clearly. She blinked once, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Her hand reached for the spotting glass at her belt. After extending it, she brought it up to her eye.

    ¡°What in Delphine¡¯s mercy¡­?¡± Gwenyth trailed off.

    ¡°What is it?¡± One crewmate asked from nearby.

    Gwenyth surveyed the island, confusion and dread settling in her chest. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ dark,¡± she muttered.

    ¡°What?¡± Arthur questioned.

    ¡°There are no more lights. No lanterns, no torches. It¡¯s gone dark.¡± Gwenyth frowned. ¡°There''re ships docked but¡­ It all looks dead. No signs of anyone.¡±

    ¡°No people? Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure of it. This town isn¡¯t a popular place, but it¡¯s unusual for there not to be anyone out this early in the evening.¡± Gwenyth collapsed her glass. ¡°This is all too strange.¡± She looked at Arthur, a feeling of dread slowly blossoming in her chest.

    ¡°Something doesn¡¯t feel right.¡±

    <hr>

    James rubbed at his eyes, doing his best to get his vision used to the darkness. The streets of Vindis were only lit by street posts and hanging lanterns. However, it seemed as if the city was far from truly being dead. People still roamed the streets, almost all of them wearing shady clothing as they pushed past others. Traders pushing carts and escorts enticing men were still prominent here, despite the dark alleyways and suspicious personnel. James turned to the man who had taken his blindfold off. He was busy helping his friend take off Seamus¡¯ and Harald¡¯s blindfolds, which were tightly tied in knots.

    After those two were freed of them, one guard gestured towards the red-haired fiend who was currently barking and shouting at her captor. Seamus blinked his eyes rapidly before moving to help with her blindfold.

    ¡°Hey calm down! It¡¯s me! Seamus?!¡±

    James heard how the young man struggled with Lilith, doing his best not to get his fingers bit off as she kicked and yelled. Seamus, Harald, and Lilith were the three James picked for his small quest. He wanted to choose Archibald over the berserker, but Lilith absolutely refused to be separated from Seamus. In the end, James had to pick her and Seamus over Archibald and Bjorn. He knew this wasn¡¯t going to go over well with mercenaries, but he honestly had more trust in Seamus. Also, he wasn¡¯t going to put his faith into a drunk and injured dwarf with an elf that didn¡¯t get along with said dwarf.

    James looked over at the hooded men. ¡°Where do we go? I¡¯m not all familiar with this part of the city.¡±

    One man stepped up. ¡°Follow the street here. Keep going until you find the slums. Once there, you¡¯ll have to head north. Keep navigating until you see the Touka. That¡¯s where the hideout is, according to our scouts,¡± he finished, his back already turning on the group.

    ¡°Wait! Touka? How do I know what their hideout looks like? What¡¯s with the name?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Believe me,¡± the hooded man said. ¡°You¡¯ll know it when you see it.¡±

    Before James could question some more, the cloaked figures had already blended into the shadows, disappearing completely.

    ¡°Well, there goes our last bits of guidance,¡± Harald muttered.

    ¡°James, I think you¡¯ve killed us,¡± Seamus suddenly blurted out. ¡°You put us out here in the middle of this godsforsaken city and had us hunt down a fucking necromancer! I thought for once, maybe you have learned to be cautious, but as it turned out, you¡¯re still the risk-taking fool from before!¡±

    ¡°Seamus, I¨C¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t try to explain yourself¡­¡± Seamus breathed out tiredly. His angry outburst seemed to have been only temporary, as his shoulders sagged. ¡°Let¡¯s just get this over with and get moving.¡±

    James watched as Seamus pushed past him, heading towards the street the men from before had pointed out. Harald looked at the surprised blond man, a small look of disapproval on his face.

    ¡°What?¡± James asked. ¡°I didn¡¯t really have much of a choice¡­ I did what had to be done.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Harald sighed. ¡°Look, James, at some point, you¡¯ll have to learn to avoid these situations. I know you¡¯re doing your best to choose the best course of action but, sometimes things aren¡¯t as simple.¡± The veteran turned to Seamus, who was shuffling away from the two men. Lilith was behind him, looking confused at the young man¡¯s recent outburst.

    ¡°He has gone to hell and back with you. Killed men when he didn¡¯t want to.¡± Harald turned to James. ¡°Seamus trusts you. But he also fears you. He¡¯s afraid of the luck you have in these kinds of situations. At some point he thinks that maybe, one day, we all won¡¯t be so lucky.¡± He placed a hand on James¡¯ shoulder. ¡°Learn to limit your risks. Because one day, our luck will run out. One way or another.¡± With that, the veteran turned and walked off with Seamus and Lilith.

    James stared for a good few seconds, pondering over the words. They were similar to Dahlia¡¯s own words in a way relating to luck and fate. Yet Harald¡¯s talk with James pointed out one thing the blond man didn¡¯t consider. His friends. Eventually, their own fate will be spun and the scales will reset for them.

    ¡®James,¡¯ Faust muttered, his voice bringing James out of his thoughts. ¡®It is not wise to think about such things. Doing so will drive you insane one day.¡¯

    ¡°Got it.¡± James took a deep breath and stepped forward, making his way to his companions. As he did so, James looked back at where the men had disappeared. He hoped the mercenaries and the shipmaster would be alright.

    ¡°James! Let¡¯s keep moving,¡± Harald¡¯s voice called out to the clan leader, leading him away from the dark alleyway. The blond man hurried away from the shadows, following the street ahead with his party. As the group moved to their destination, rain started to patter upon them. At first, it was only a couple of cold drops. However, it soon began to escalate. By the time James had his hood up, the rain had increased to shower level, completely soaking his cloak. Thankfully for his friends, they all had their capes ready to cover them from the incoming rain. Even Lilith was covered in her oversized cloak, protecting herself from the cold water.

    ¡°This is the part of Bloom I dread the most,¡± Seamus muttered. ¡°The rain drenches everything and the lingering cold from the previous season makes it near unbearable.¡±

    ¡°How common are these storms?¡± James asked. The constant rain had already been affecting Yorktown, the storms usually coming in every few days and soaked everything that had the misfortune of being left outside. James himself had been caught outside during many of these storms and had even caught a minor cold. Fortunately, his high metabolism and small healing factor had burned through it in a couple of days.

    ¡°They¡¯re constant,¡± Harald answered James. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you how many illnesses these storms bring to small towns. It¡¯s not uncommon for a wandering disease to form and kill the young and old. Yorktown alone had half its elderly die out from the last Bloom sickness,¡± the veteran explained.

    ¡°Shit,¡± James muttered. He had forgotten how deadly disease can truly be, especially since in this world, advanced medicine was limited to health potions and clerics. No vaccines, no antibiotics, and clearly no immunization. James himself was lucky that he didn¡¯t contract a foreign disease from Azura that could very well kill him just as easily as any common man. Hell, he was lucky that he didn¡¯t bring the damn flu to this world. James could only imagine how chaotic things could have gotten if he had the sniffles the day he was summoned to this world. He shuddered at the thought of a simple sneeze killing off an entire town of oblivious peasants.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Looks like we¡¯re getting closer,¡± Seamus pointed out. The young man gestured to their surroundings, which were slowly deteriorating the more they walked. Buildings of brick soon turned to wooden structures that looked unstable. Less and fewer people were around, most of them walking away from the upcoming street. James saw how the floating platforms were becoming smaller, with their bridges looking more and more primitive. He could swear that the ground beneath was slowly swaying.

    At some point, the surrounding city was unrecognizable. The rain made it harder to see, but James could clearly make it out that they were in an entirely different part of Vindis. Buildings were now either barely holding on or straight up collapsed. The amount of light was next to none, the only source being the street lamps that barely lit up the platforms. As James traversed to the next platform, the connecting bridge creaked and groaned under his and the group¡¯s weight. The new platform didn¡¯t do them any favors, as it also creaked with every step.

    ¡°I guess this is the copper district,¡± James murmured. He spotted what looked like ships in the distance. ¡°Are we close to a harbor?¡± He asked aloud.

    ¡°No,¡± Harald responded. ¡°That¡¯s just an extension of the slums,¡± He revealed.

    ¡°Wait what?¡± James looked to the veteran, who was currently overseeing the distant ships.

    ¡°Look, see how some of those masts seem tilted?¡± Harald pointed out. James focused on the ships ahead, squinting his eyes. Just as Harald said, some ships and their masts were tilted, almost as if they were sinking. Yet they stayed afloat, only bobbing and swaying now and then.

    ¡°What the¡­ How is¡­?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a remnant of Vindis¡¯ founding,¡± Seamus spoke up. ¡°It¡¯s hard to believe, but Vindis didn¡¯t really start out as a floating city,¡± the young man added. ¡°From the stories I¡¯ve heard, Vindis started out as a small group of bandit ships tied together to form a base of operations. Soon enough, however, it developed into a small floating village. Then it continued to grow as time went on. By the time the next century rolled around, it had already turned into the city we know now,¡± Seamus spoke with an informative tone, void of any fascination. ¡°The founding ships, however, never were maintained. As you see before you, the former town of Old Vindis is now just a slum. Riddled with filth and rot,¡± Seamus bitterly ended his explanation.

    James looked at the young man, who was currently avoiding eye contact.

    ¡®It¡¯s best if we let him be. This part of the city seems to touch a nerve within him.¡¯ Faust murmured.

    James silently agreed with the spirit. Without much of a word, the party continued their trek into the copper district. The heavy rain began to let up, before soon reducing itself to a light pattering. James sighed in relief at the change in the weather. Now, without the constant rainfall, he could now see much more clearly.

    The surrounding scenery had shifted from buildings of wood and stone to the stripped hulls of galleons and brigs. Most of the former ships had been transformed into buildings, with their hulls carved out and their broken masts acting as support beams. Even the platform below their feet had shifted to large rafts that were held taught by ropes and buoys. James could feel how his balance wavered with every step, his fear of the deep sea only increasing whenever he looked down at the exposed gaps. There were rarely people out here, and the ones James saw consisted of dust users and shifty people who watched from a distance.

    Finally, after nearly half an hour of walking, they came across what looked to be a capsized man-o-war. Its enormous hull seemed to belittle all the other improvised buildings around it, making it stand out. James looked up at the hull, his gaze focusing on the painted waves and runic symbols. He tilted his head at the upside down lettering that was left, as some of it had been scratched or worn off. He squinted as he read aloud the leftover letters.

    ¡°T-O-U-K-A,¡± he muttered. ¡°Are you fucking serious?¡± James couldn¡¯t help but express his disbelief. This was the hideout? This was where those hooded men had so much trouble? It was so exposed and blatant that James pondered on the possibility that Markov was stringing him along.

    ¡°So this is it?¡± Harald asked. The veteran crossed his arms, his eyebrow raised. ¡°Why would someone hide out in something so exposed?¡±

    ¡°I guess hiding in plain sight?¡± James questioned.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± Seamus expressed. ¡°This doesn¡¯t feel right¡­ It¡¯s too obvious, too open.¡± The young man looked worried. Even Lilith was cautious, her hands signing to Seamus.

    ¡°What is she saying?¡± James asked.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t like the smell of the place. She says it stinks of death,¡± Seamus muttered. James looked at the berserker, who was staring vehemently at the entrance carved into the hull.

    ¡°We should try to find another way in¡­ I don¡¯t think waltzing through the entrance is a good idea,¡± James suggested.

    ¡°Good idea,¡± Harald nodded. ¡°Judging from the class of ship, there should be a cargo opening on its port side. We should head to it to see if we can enter that way.¡±

    ¡°Lead the way then.¡±

    <hr>

    As Harald had predicted, there was an exposed opening on the ship¡¯s port side. Once they had pried open the wooden boards that barricaded it, the party of four descended into the capsized ship.

    The deck was modified heavily, to no one¡¯s surprise. It only made sense that an upside down ship would be modified to prevent any accidents. Still, James had to give it to them. This place looked homely. Lanterns were hung up, lighting up the deck with a soft glow. Barrels and crates were strewn about, yet there didn¡¯t seem to be any sign of people living here. As the group explored, they found nothing but dust covered tankards and tables, no sign of recent life anywhere.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± James muttered.

    ¡°I guess we have to go deeper into this place,¡± Harald spoke up.

    ¡°Does Lilith smell anything strange?¡± James called out to Seamus. He watched as the other man signed to the red-haired woman, before she too signed back.

    ¡°She says that the dust is overpowering everything, but she can still catch the scent of death, even if faint,¡± Seamus translated.

    ¡°I see¡­¡± James rubbed at his chin. It seemed as if Lilith could pick up scents that the rest could not.

    ¡®She¡¯s like a human bloodhound.¡¯

    ¡°Let me know if she picks up anything else,¡± James said to Seamus. He looked back to Harald, who was investigating the darker parts of the deck.

    ¡°There¡¯s a makeshift ladder leading down,¡± Harald pointed out.

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s where we¡¯re going then,¡± James murmured to himself. With that, he and his friends descended lower into the ship, passing by even more lit rooms and abandoned items.

    They would pass through two levels, all of them containing nothing but lit lanterns and things such as tables, barrels, and cots.

    ¡°Are we sure this place isn¡¯t already abandoned?¡± James commented as they came across a table with a rough map of Vindis, points of interest stabbed with knives. There were even silver coins leftover, dust caking their shiny faces. He blew off the dust, which nearly clouded the room.

    ¡°Markov said that their men had been here recently,¡± Harald coughed out.

    James picked up a couple of the silver coins. He eyed the map they were resting upon. ¡°If so, shouldn¡¯t there be remnants of them?¡± He asked as he rolled up the rough map of Vindis.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure they infiltrated the ship in another way.,¡± Harald said with a shrug.

    ¡°Even so, they don¡¯t seem like the kind of people to leave tracks,¡± Seamus commented from across the room. James tucked in the rolled parchment into his satchel.

    ¡°Good points, but it still feels like there¡¯s something wrong with this place.¡± James couldn¡¯t help but feel exposed inside this ship, his bandaged hand tingling in a way he couldn¡¯t place. There was magic afoot. He knew it. Before he could express his discomfort to his friends, an icy shiver had suddenly come over him.

    ¡°Something¡¯s not right,¡± James said aloud. Before Seamus or Harald could respond, Lilith growled. The red-haired woman went into a low crouch, her hand grabbing at her ax.

    ¡°What¡¯s up with her?¡± James asked.

    ¡®James. Weapon out. Now,¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice commanded.

    James followed the spirit¡¯s advice, his right hand moving to unsheathe his sword.

    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know. She¡¯s not signing to me,¡± Seamus stuttered. ¡°Something¡¯s got her riled up.¡± Seamus moved to grab at his sword, unwrapping the cloth that covered it. Even Harald had his blade out. His gaze focused on the dark corners of the room.

    James looked to where Harald was staring at. He caught the glimpse of movement in the shadows, followed by the clack of something hitting the ground. More sounds of clicking and clacking filled the room, with more movement coming from the darkness.

    ¡®Is it¡­? No, it can¡¯t be it. I would¡¯ve felt its presence.¡¯ James dismissed the idea of the abomination. ¡®Faust.¡¯

    ¡®On it.¡¯

    With that, the blond man felt his eyes burn with the magical presence of the spirit. His vision cleared and the shadows soon became no more.

    Once he got a good look, he couldn¡¯t help but stare blankly. Before his eyes were the limping forms of clacking bone, their joints popping as they formed in the shadows. James stared at the skeletons in front of him, their vacant skulls showcasing pinpricks of green light right where the eyes used to be. Some skeletons were still forming together, their bones clicking together as they slowly stood up. Their skeletal hands brandished dusty daggers, axes, and even short swords. Their jaws popped in place, before clacking together in satisfaction. Still, James could see how green strings of magic kept their limbs together, alluding to a higher power being responsible for their presence.

    ¡®Conjurations.¡¯ Was the word that popped into James¡¯ mind.

    ¡°The necromancer. Of course he has summons!¡± James realized aloud. ¡°He¡¯s conjuring skeletons to stop us,¡± he explained shortly.

    ¡°Skeletons?¡± Seamus questioned. ¡°Conjurations? Dammit, I knew we shouldn¡¯t have taken this job!¡±

    ¡°Quiet down!¡± Harald shouted at the young man. ¡°Just keep close and remember your training. We can take them on if we stick together!¡± The veteran shouted out. ¡°Tell Lilith to keep close to the center. Don¡¯t let her stray too far or she¡¯ll get overwhelmed.¡±

    As the four grouped up, the skeletons took it as their time to strike. James tried to do a headcount, but soon lost track beyond the number seven. He raised his sword, stiffening his posture as he took deep breaths. He would have to keep his calm during this scuffle, as their numbers could easily overwhelm the group.

    ¡®Faust, keep me alive, will you?¡¯ James mentally muttered. Before he could get confirmation from the Centurion, a skeleton advanced upon him with frightening speed.

    The fight was on.

    <hr>

    In the darker reaches of the Touka, was a room furnished with bookshelves and drawers. Candles lit up the room, showcasing the decorative carvings on the wall and door. This particular room used to be a captain¡¯s quarters long before the ship was capsized. Its former glory was reduced to someone¡¯s lab of sorts, with glowing bottles of curious liquids spotting the shelves. A simple table was at the center of it all, covered in mysterious potions and items that all looked heretical in a way. Among the strange items, a crystal ball was set upon the table, its glow illuminating the delicate hands that controlled it.

    ¡°They don¡¯t look like Thieves Guild,¡± a soft female voice spoke out, her hands hovering over the magical ball. The image changed to another perspective, this time showcasing the berserker that ripped apart one of the conjured skeletons.

    ¡°No, they don¡¯t,¡± a male¡¯s voice conceded. The voice¡¯s owner stepped closer to the ball, a light smile on his painted face. ¡°It seems like they got some adventurers like last time,¡± he chuckled.

    ¡°They¡¯re not like the others before,¡± the female muttered. ¡°I can sense a form of necromancy among them. Faint, but it¡¯s there.¡±

    ¡°How fascinating!¡± The man exclaimed. He leaned in closer to the orb, squinting. ¡°Which one do you think it is?¡± he asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to tell¡­¡± The woman furrowed her brow. ¡°But I¡¯ll put my gold on the younger one. The one with the bowl shaped hair.¡±

    ¡°Him? Plausible. He doesn¡¯t seem as strong as the others. Makes sense that he uses magic to compensate for his strength. Still¡­¡± He twirled his finger.

    The woman sighed and shifted the orb¡¯s view to the other two men. ¡°The old man?¡± she questioned.

    ¡°No, the blond one,¡± the man specified.

    ¡°Him? He doesn¡¯t seem like the type to use magic like that. He¡¯s got the look of a bruiser. Look at the way he fights.¡± She focused the orb¡¯s view on him.

    The man in question fought brutally, his sword swinging at the skeletons without respite. He even used his left hand to punch at the conjurations, knocking them back before he crushed their skulls with his steel clad boot.

    ¡°He could very well be the berserker¡¯s brother. The other two seem more likely as magic users. They fight with much more care. Their movements are clean and orderly.¡±

    ¡°Ah, but you¡¯re not focusing enough,¡± the man chuckled. He pointed at the blond man. ¡°Look closely at his eyes,¡± he murmured.

    The woman raised an eyebrow, but listened to the man. She leaned into the crystal ball, narrowing her eyes at the orb¡¯s visage. As expected, she didn¡¯t seem to see anything extraordinary. At least for the first couple of seconds. Before she could call out her companion for being stupid, she saw it. It was brief and quick, but she had seen it.

    The man¡¯s smile grew to a grin. ¡°See?¡± he boasted.

    The woman stared at the orb, focusing on the magical orb to take a closer look at the blond man. She stayed on him for a bit longer before seeing it again. The blue glint in his eyes. At first, it looked nothing more than a reflection, but this particular woman knew better. She was a witch, after all, and was well versed in the dark arts of magic.

    That blue ¡®glint¡¯ in the eyes was reminiscent of the sorcery the undead harbored. Used by spirits and necromancers to control undead bodies, the magic usually presented itself a green or purple glow, depending on what kind of magic was being used. Blue was something unexpected. The witch frowned at the blond man in her crystal orb, who didn¡¯t even look close to the undead. In fact, he looked quite lively, his movements quick and his reaction time inhuman to an extent.

    ¡°He has a form of necromancy magic in him. It¡¯s hard to tell to what extent, but it¡¯s there. I have seen nothing like it.¡±

    ¡°I want his body,¡± the man breathed out in fascination. ¡°The advances I can make in my magic, the knowledge his body can carry. It¡¯s all so compelling!¡±

    The witch knew he would fawn over something like this. His necromancy had hit a wall, and he had been unable to overcome that hurdle. At least, until now, it seemed.

    ¡°Should I go and retrieve him?¡± The witch asked.

    ¡°Yes! Of course! But alive!¡± the necromancer insisted. ¡°There¡¯s no telling what will happen if we kill him. For all we know, it could disrupt the anomaly he is.¡±

    The witch nodded in agreement. ¡°Alright. Dream weaver it is, then?¡± She asked. Her hands pulled away from the orb. The witch¡¯s special illusion magic was the one effective thing she can use to bring the group down non-lethally.

    ¡°As long as you do not disrupt his ley lines, do what you must.¡± The necromancer waved her off.

    With that, the witch made her way out of the lab, her fingers forming practice runes as she walked out. She would have to catch them off guard, especially that older man. He seemed like the kind of man with tough mental fortitude. The youngest one seemed the easiest. He looked na?ve enough to trick. The berserker was a wild card, but didn¡¯t seem all too intelligent. The witch could confidentially guess she would be easy to put down.

    The blond one, however, seemed to be the most unpredictable. Her spell could theoretically put him down, but the traces of necromancy magic in his body meant that there was the possibility of another spirit dormant inside.

    ¡°It could make it all the more interesting. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve had a challenge,¡± she muttered with a smile.

    The witch closed the lab¡¯s door behind her before she headed to the upper decks, ready to take on the group of strangers above.

 B.3 Chapter 16: Dream Weaver

    Seamus avoided the skeleton¡¯s strike, his sword moving to slash at its exposed neck. Hit. Seamus¡¯ counter-attack sent the conjured undead¡¯s skull flying off. Its main body stumbled for a bit, as if it was trying to find its missing head. Seamus charged and struck it once more, this time causing the skeleton to collapse. Its bones scattered on the floor, seemingly defeated.

    Yet they shuddered with life, green wires of magic dragging them together once more. Seamus moved in on the reconstructing bones, aiming to hit the head that had fallen off. His blade¡¯s tip stabbed the skull, which resisted the sharp iron. It was harder than Seamus had expected. He clenched his jaw and forced his blade forward, finally piercing the bone. The pinpricks of green died out without so much of a fizzle. Soon after this, the bones fell limp, now nothing more than remains.

    ¡°Got another one!¡± He shouted out. Before he could take a look at his friends, Lilith came in out of nowhere, tackling a skeleton that had its sights set on Seamus. She tore it apart, throwing its limbs away as she hacked at its skull. After some loud strikes, her ax split its skull open, killing off the conjured undead.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Seamus called out to the berserker. She gave the young man a reassuring grunt, letting him know she was still uninjured.

    ¡°How many more?¡± James shouted out from his side. Seamus raised his sights to the dark corners of the room, seeing how more skeletons formed. However, it seemed as if with every wave, less and less of them were appearing. Their numbers were decreasing, but Seamus wasn¡¯t sure how long he could hold out. They had been fighting the conjurations for a while now and his arms were going numb.

    ¡°We have to run,¡± Harald breathed out, his boot crushing another skull. ¡°We can¡¯t afford to waste our energy on them. It¡¯ll leave us vulnerable to the necromancer if we keep fighting like this.¡± The veteran turned to James. ¡°There¡¯s a ladder leading further down. If we hurry and take the exit, we can get away from the conjurations.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll kill us before we make it,¡± Seamus exasperated.

    ¡°Not if we time it right!¡± James shouted out. He took down another skeleton. ¡°I¡¯ll clear the way with whatever stamina I have left. That¡¯ll give us a small window of time to escape,¡± he added.

    ¡°No, I¡¯ll do it,¡± Harald insisted. ¡°I have a vitality potion I can use. You, Seamus, and Lilith get down there.¡±

    ¡°Harald¡ª¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no time for arguing!¡± Harald reached into his satchel, his hand digging through it before he pulled out a copper vial. ¡°When you see the opening, run for it!¡±

    Before anyone could protest, Harald had already torn the wax seal on the vial. The veteran downed the potion without hesitation. Seamus could see how his body tensed up at the concoction before he tossed the empty copper vial. Harald charged at the skeletal undead before him, his sword slashing through their bony appendages.

    Seamus looked to Lilith, who was watching the veteran with complete surprise. ¡°We have to go now!¡± he shouted to the berserker. Seamus grabbed at her hand, dragging her away from the fight as he headed to where the ladders were. ¡°James!¡± he shouted to the stunned blond man, who was staring at Harald. The mention of his name seemed to snap him out of his stupor, as he quickly joined Seamus in his retreat.

    The trio reached the ladder with relative ease, avoiding any wild swings directed at them. Lilith was the first to go down, the red-haired berserker dropping into the exit without so much as glancing at the ladder. Seamus was next, his hands and feet sliding down the ladder¡¯s sides. James was last, the blond man¡¯s feet and hand hurriedly stepping down the steps. Seamus saw how James took one last look at Harald, before he rushed down the exit, his hand closing the trapdoor that was attached to the opening.

    Once the three were in safety, Seamus took the moment to rest. ¡°We have to keep moving, right?¡± Seamus asked in a breath.

    James himself rested against the wall, catching his breath as he pressed his left hand to his forehead. ¡°We have to. Harald can take care of himself. Hopefully.¡±

    Seamus nodded at that. ¡°Alright. We keep moving in this chasm of death and fight our way to a necromancer? That sounds right to you?¡± He couldn¡¯t help but feel bitter about the situation. They had just fought tooth and nail against amalgamations of bone. The young man was already getting sick of fighting.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have a choice,¡± James muttered.

    ¡°Of course we don¡¯t,¡± Seamus breathed out. He slowly picked himself up, his gaze moving to examine this new level they were on. It was bigger than the previous one, with open doorways and dark corridors. If Seamus had to guess, they were getting closer to the bottom.

    ¡°Guess we have to figure out where to go next,¡± Seamus muttered. He turned to Lilith, expecting to see the young woman ready to fight whatever lurked in the shadows. Instead, to his complete surprise, Lilith was wavering tiredly. She huffed heavily, her eyes half closed as she rested against the wall.

    ¡°Lilith?¡± Seamus asked.

    The berserker perked up at Seamus¡¯ voice, but she didn¡¯t respond. Instead, Lilith only stumbled against the wall before she slid down to the ground. She slowly closed her eyes, her body going limp.

    ¡°Lilith!¡± Seamus rushed to the young woman, grabbing her arm to see if she was still alive. Her pulse was still there, thankfully, strong and alive. Yet she was passed out, her breathing heavy as she slept.

    ¡°Seamus,¡± a voice called out to the young man.

    Seamus raised his head, looking at James in confusion. ¡°What is it?¡± He asked.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You called my name?¡±

    ¡°No, I didn¡¯t,¡± James said with a raised eyebrow.

    Seamus blinked before realizing the world around him was¡­different. He tried to stand, but felt as his knees wobbled and gave in. He stumbled to the ground, landing on his knees.

    ¡°Seamus?¡± James asked this time, his expression turning into that of worry.

    ¡°James?¡± Seamus called out in confusion. He couldn¡¯t help but feel weak, his strength nonexistent as he tried to move. ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± Seamus couldn¡¯t speak. He tried to say something, anything, but it felt as if an invisible hand held his throat. His hearing was even dampening, the only sound being the muffled shouts of James.

    ¡°Go to sleep, sweet darling. Don¡¯t you see the moons in the sky?¡±

    A soft voice sung sweetly, the words of the poem reaching Seamus with grace

    ¡°Sister moons, they will shine onto gentle blades of grass.¡±

    ¡®No¡­¡¯ Seamus tried to fight back, his vision getting blurry.

    ¡°Go to sleep, my darling. Ravens watch over you and me.¡±

    Despite his obstructed gaze, Seamus could clearly see how even James was affected. The blond man had at first been confused, but soon he, too, was stumbling.

    ¡°No matter where, they will see. White raven, do you sleep?¡±

    Seamus could hear the sweet voice call out to him and James, singing a lullaby he hadn¡¯t heard for so long.

    ¡®Stop. Please.¡¯

    Seamus¡¯ body slowly went limp, his strength disappearing. James was already on the floor, weakly trying to raise his sword in defense. Seamus soon laid on the ground, his breathing heavy as his eyelids fell.

    ¡°Go to sleep. My little one,¡± the sweet voice called out to him. The young man focused on where the voice was coming from, only to see a young woman step out of the shadows, her hands weaving what looked like dark magic.

    Seamus helplessly fell into his deep slumber.

    <hr>

    Harald rested against a wall, catching his breath as the skeletons before him reformed once more. He still had the energy to keep going, but he doubted it was going to be enough to fully outlast these conjurations. The veteran glanced at where the other three members of his group had disappeared, right where the trapdoor was closed. He could probably make it if he took out enough of the undead bastards.

    ¡®Don¡¯t need to fully destroy them. Just handicap them enough so I can get out of here with little of a problem.¡¯

    Harald raised his sword with both hands, his breathing slowly going back to normal. He needed to concentrate, to get his thoughts in order. Harald took a deep breath, his eyes briefly closing to allow him to focus. For a second, everything was silent, the ambience of the deck peaceful in a way. Harald opened his eyes.

    He blinked. The skeletons were gone. Not just the skeletons, but the deck, the hull, and the lanterns. There was only darkness around him. He blinked once more, rapidly trying to get his vision corrected. Yet nothing changed. Harald looked down at his feet, watching ripples that emanated from his feet. It was like he was standing on water.

    ¡°Illusion magic,¡± he muttered. Harald turned around in the darkness, doing his best to stay calm. ¡°Show yourself! I¡¯ve been subjected to magic like this before. It is nothing new to me!¡±

    Silence.

    Harald gritted his jaw. There was only one way to escape an illusion like this. He closed his eyes, focusing on all of his senses. He had to look past his eyes and peer into his surroundings. It was the same tactic he used back when he was still a soldier. All he needed to do was be calm and have a clear head. That way, he could pinpoint the caster and¡ª

    ¡°Harald?¡±

    A voice called out from the darkness. The veteran opened his eyes, turning to the source of the voice. In the midst of the darkness was someone he didn¡¯t expect to see. Harald recognized the owner of the voice as the man who he had considered a friend. He was a man of admiration, his past actions getting him harshly extradited from the Lumen ranks.

    ¡°It has been a while, my friend,¡± Sergeant Astera greeted him sorrowfully. He wore his civilian clothes, the same ones he had on when Harald came to Yorktown in search of refuge.

    ¡°You¡¯re not real,¡± Harald growled. ¡°You died a long time ago.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Astera chuckled. ¡°But you haven¡¯t let go, have you? Even when I told you to move on?¡±

    ¡°Get out of my head.¡± Harald stepped away from the illusion of his old friend.

    ¡°Harald, you promised me. Do you remember what it was?¡±

    ¡°Get the hel out of my head!¡± The veteran shouted. Harald swung his sword at the illusion before him. His sword struck nothing but air, the image of Astera fleeting as fast as it had appeared.

    ¡°Harald,¡± Astera¡¯s voice whispered. The veteran tensed up, his eyes scanning the darkness. No sight of the illusion. Only his voice accompanied Harald in this dark place. ¡°You promised to watch her. To take care of her for me.¡±

    ¡°This is all a trick. A ruse,¡± Harald growled. He could feel his blood run hot, his muscles tensed as if expecting a strike from the shadows.

    ¡°There is no trick, soldier,¡± a soft female voice rang out all around the veteran. ¡°This is your past. Your fear. Your regrets.¡±

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Let me out, you witch!¡±

    ¡°This is your own fault, Harald. Your ghosts punish you for your past sins. It is all your own doing.¡±

    ¡°Show yourself!¡±

    ¡°Captain Harald Stroud!¡± another voice shouted out from behind, interrupting Harald¡¯s bout with the witch. The veteran felt his blood run cold at the recognition of the voice. He turned to the source, his eyes setting upon a young soldier that had appeared out of nowhere. He was dirty with the blood of his enemies and allies alike, his eyes burning with a rage that did not befit him.

    Harald stared at the soldier, his own hand gripping tightly on his blade. ¡°It¡¯s you.¡±

    The young soldier before him gritted his teeth before he shouted out in rage and despair, ¡°Captain Harald Stroud, Chosen of Azlene! I, William Thatcher, challenge you to a duel! For all my dead brothers, I will avenge them!¡±

    <hr>

    Seamus was in darkness, his mind blank as he tried to recall his last memory.

    ¡°Seamus?¡± A voice rang out to the young man, soft and welcoming.

    ¡®What happened?¡¯ He wondered absentmindedly.

    ¡°Sweetheart, please answer¡­¡±

    Seamus blinked at that, his memory slowly coming back to him.

    ¡®Did I fall? Am I hurt?¡¯

    His thoughts ran slowly, his own consciousness unsure of what was happening

    ¡°Are you alright Seamus? Wake up!¡±

    The voice stirred the young child, his groans muffled as he picked himself up. Seamus blinked, his eyes settling on the source of the voice. In front of him was a woman he had never thought he would ever see. He blinked once more and his vision cleared.

    ¡°Seamus? Are you hurt?¡± The woman before him asked worriedly. She was on her knees, her hand gently rocking the young child awake. Her red hair was tied back into a neat bun, yet strands of it lingered on her face like stray pieces of yarn. Her skin was a fair white, pale, and flawless. Her blue eyes worriedly examined the child before her, her brow furrowed.

    Seamus stared at his mother, unsure if he was really looking at her.

    ¡°Seamus? Oh!¡± the kindly woman exclaimed in surprise when Seamus rushed to hug her, his arms tightly holding onto her. Tears flowed from his eyes, his grip only growing stronger as he buried his face in her shoulder.

    ¡°Mother,¡± he cried out, doing his best not to outright bawl. ¡°I thought you were gone. You and father, I thought you were both gone.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m right here, my dear. I¡¯m not leaving you,¡± his mother cooed softly.

    Seamus sniffed and took a deep breath, his gaze moving to his surroundings. They were in the family library, its shelves stocked full with books of many origins. Sunlight peered in through the skylight, illuminating the place in a heavenly glow. Seamus gently pulled away from his mother, his hand moving to touch at his head. He winced at the sudden jolt of pain, realizing that he had hit his head.

    ¡°I-I fell,¡± Seamus muttered aloud.

    ¡°Yes, you did,¡± his mother chuckled. ¡°Gave me quite the scare, too. Seamus, you have to be careful when it comes to climbing the shelf ladder.¡± She sighed in frustration. Still, she didn¡¯t seem angry at little Seamus, who could only wipe his tears away.

    ¡°Be careful next time, sweetheart. Accidents happen, yes, but I don¡¯t know what I would do to myself if you got seriously hurt under my watch.¡± His mother gave him another hug before she stood up. ¡°Now then, let us find that book of stories you wanted?¡± She smiled at little Seamus, her hand gently brushing away the strands of red hair that settled on her face.

    Seamus nodded slowly, his own feet picking themselves up. ¡°I had a nightmare,¡± he murmured suddenly. ¡°I was older, and the clan was falling,¡± Seamus thought back to what he had dreamt before he awoke. ¡°I survived, but¡­ everyone was lost.¡± He could feel himself tear up again. ¡°I survived for weeks on nothing but rats and grog before I finally escaped to some island.¡±

    ¡°An island?¡± His mother questioned.

    ¡°I washed up there and¡­¡± Seamus blinked, his memory of the nightmare slowly becoming vivid. ¡°I found my friends there,¡± he recalled. ¡°They helped me and kept me alive. They fed and housed me.¡±

    ¡°They sound like good friends,¡± his mother commented, her hand wrapping around Seamus as she guided him to the shelf.

    ¡°It was so real,¡± the young child admitted. ¡°It was like I was really there.¡±

    ¡°How interesting, perhaps it means something?¡± Seamus¡¯ mother looked to the hallways that led out of the library. ¡°Maybe Wizard Falrick can help interpret it? We can go there if you like.¡± Seamus looked to the hallway, the same one that led into the rest of the maze-like fort.

    ¡°No. I like it better here,¡± Seamus whispered.

    ¡°Alright then. Let us find a book to read?¡± His mother asked, her smile enough to calm the child¡¯s worried heart. Before Seamus could answer, an icy chill came over him, goosebumps suddenly appearing on his skin. He turned around, but nothing was there. Yet the child could swear he saw a shadow in the corner of his vision move.

    ¡°Yes, please,¡± Seamus muttered an answer, deciding to ignore the cold feeling that plagued the back of his mind.

    <hr>

    ¡°My sweet little Kvitravn. Sleep tight and remember, your father and I love you very much.¡±

    James Holter thrashed violently in his bed, panting heavily. His phone¡¯s alarm blared annoyingly on the ground, along with a couple of other things he knocked over in his sleep.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± he managed out, the memory of his dream fleeing from his mind as fast as he awoke. By the time James turned his alarm off, the recollections of his nightmare were gone forever, leaving the twenty-five-year-old confused and slightly shaken. He looked down at the fallen items, his eyes scanning through them. He let out a breath of relief, thankful that his father¡¯s ashes weren¡¯t among the damage. The silver urn was still on its small shrine near his desk, where it had been for years. James sighed softly, wiping off the dust that had settled on the urn overnight.

    James slipped out of bed, his hands shaking as he tried to recall his dream. He tried hard, as it felt like the dream was important, vital even. Yet nothing came to mind. James cursed silently to himself, taking deep breaths as he tried to clear his head. Sweat dampened his clothes, revealing to the young man that he had one hell of a nightmare.

    ¡°Do the meds have something to do with it?¡± James thought aloud, his gaze moving to the bottle of pills that sat on top of his dresser.

    ¡®Maybe it¡¯s best if I just skip taking them for today.¡¯

    The young man moved on to grab some clean clothes, hoping to get a shower in before he was late for work once more. As James left his room, he caught Nick eating breakfast on the kitchen table; his roommate was watching some random show on his laptop.

    ¡°Another rude awakening?¡± He called out to James.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± James answered back slowly. Why did this feel familiar?

    ¡°Hey, Monica called. She wanted to remind you that your anniversary was tonight,¡± Nick mentioned.

    ¡°Tonight?¡± James glanced at his phone. Sure enough, it was the 27th of March. Saturday.

    ¡°Congrats on the big four, by the way,¡± Nick called out.

    ¡°Four?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, four years together? I thought for sure you guys were going to break up last year, but you two pulled through.¡±

    James gave Nick a blank look. He opened his mouth to question it, but nothing came out.

    ¡®Has time gone that fast? Weren¡¯t we in our third year together? Now that I think about it actually, when did March arrive?¡¯

    James could¡¯ve sworn it was just summer recently, yet both Nick and his phone confirmed the date to be early spring.

    ¡°You good man?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, it¡¯s just that¡­I need to think.¡±

    With that, James made his way into the bathroom, his head hurting with confusion. ¡°Am I going crazy?¡± He muttered to himself, his hand moving to scratch at his beard. When his fingers grazed against a shortened stubble, James couldn¡¯t help but jump. He looked in the mirror, where his visage was on display. His blond hair was cut short, his beard nothing more than a faint stubble. He touched his groomed face, the feeling all too foreign to him. But why? Why was this foreign to him? He had always kept himself clean and groomed, right?

    James shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m going crazy. That nightmare is messing with my mind. Of course, there¡¯s nothing wrong.¡± He looked at his clean clothes, which comprised a buttoned shirt and black slacks. They looked unfamiliar to him. He never knew he had clothes like these before.

    ¡°My job,¡± James mumbled, his mind going to the promotion he had gotten a month back. How could he forget? Kim had promoted him and had moved his position to a much more comfortable one.

    James chuckled. ¡°Now it¡¯s coming back to me.¡± He sighed in relief. He wasn¡¯t going crazy. It seemed like that dream really shook him up. With that in mind, James went ahead to take his shower, washing away the worries he had held.

    <hr>

    Harald fought tirelessly, his arms burning with exertion. He cut down the illusion of William, watching as the young man¡¯s wounds bled all over the ground.

    ¡°Get out of my head!¡± Harald shouted out.

    ¡°Never,¡± William croaked out. He stood back up, his sword swinging back at Harald. The veteran dodged the attack, his sword moving in to stab the young man through his appendix. The blade pierced through with a sickening sound, causing William to falter and go limp. ¡°You¡¯ll pay¡­ You¡¯ll pay for it all¡­¡± He groaned. The young man slid back, his corpse landing on the rippling ground.

    ¡°Let me out of this dreamscape, witch!¡± Harald shouted out into the void. No response. Harald could feel a tinge of hopelessness spread in his chest, the pain of his past taking its toll on his heart. He fell to his knees, weakened by the constant fighting.

    ¡°This is what you deserve, Harald.¡± William¡¯s voice sounded out behind the veteran.

    ¡°I¡­ I never meant for this. Never meant for those deaths,¡± Harald muttered.

    ¡°Yet you took the risk,¡± another voice spoke up. It was Astera. Harald turned to the man who was his former brother in arms. He looked disappointed with the veteran, his amber eyes glinting with disbelief. ¡°You never told me what happened. Was it because you knew I would hate you for it?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Was it because you had no one else to care for you?¡± Another voice, female this time, rang out. Harald turned to see more people show up in the darkness. Their looks and gazes were full of disgust and pity.

    ¡°Or was it because you were full of your own pride?!¡± William¡¯s voice shouted.

    Harald forced himself to stand up, his knees weaker than before. ¡°What I did years back will forever haunt me. I never wanted to get those men killed,¡± he admitted. The veteran looked at William. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­¡±

    The young man before him stared at Harald with the same fury as before, his jaw clenched tightly. ¡°I will never forgive you. Not as long as you live!¡±

    Harald stared at William, his teeth gritted as he raised his own sword. Harald would continue to fight against the young man before him for what seemed like eternity.

    <hr>

    Seamus pulled at the book that was wedged tightly on the shelf. Using his child-like strength, he wiggled it loose.

    ¡°See? I didn¡¯t need help.¡± Seamus proudly displayed his feat of strength to his mother, who smiled in return.

    ¡°My my, what a strong child you are. You truly are my son,¡± she laughed. Seamus felt his cheeks burn from her words, his smile growing as he hugged the enormous book.

    Before Seamus could ask for his mother to read the book to him, a guard walked into the library.

    ¡°My Lady, Jarl Yorn requests your presence!¡± He called out.

    ¡°Oh, did he?¡± Mother frowned at the guard¡¯s words. She turned to Seamus, who was confusedly looking at the guard and her. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll have to get going. If you like, I can get Uncle Rould to¨C¡±

    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Seamus asked, his voice slightly shaking.

    ¡°Your father and I are headed to Aldren. Your aunt and cousins are settling in there, and I promised to help.¡±

    ¡°Aldren?!¡± Seamus exclaimed. ¡°But it¡¯s full of orcs and danger!¡±

    ¡°Where did you hear that, Seamus? Did the kids in the harbor town tell you that?¡±

    ¡°N-No! It¡¯s just that¡­¡± Seamus trailed off. His mind had gone blank. He could¡¯ve sworn there was a plausible reason why he was terrified of Aldren. Yet he couldn¡¯t think of any reasons.

    The cold shiver came back to the young child, this time stronger than before. He shuddered. ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡±

    ¡°Seamus¡­¡± His mother went down on a knee, her brow furrowed. She gently grabbed at the young child¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Nothing bad is going to happen. Your father and I will be alright. Your aunt and uncle will be alright. Your cousins will be alright. I promise.¡±

    ¡°R-Really?¡±

    ¡°Yes really,¡± she flashed him a confident smile. ¡°Your father is the strongest in Valenfrost. There isn¡¯t anything that can challenge him. I swear my life on it.¡±

    Seamus could only stare at his mother, who innocently grinned. Her fair skin and blue eyes should have been calming the child before her. Yet, Seamus felt nothing but the cold pit that called to him. The image before him flashed suddenly, showcasing the blood moons and the burning fort. The blood stained bodies that littered his former home. His clan flag, torn and disgraced. The visage of his father that showed the ¡®unkillable¡¯ man covered in spears and arrows.

    The images had only flashed for a second, yet it was long enough for Seamus to realize the reality of it all. This wasn¡¯t real. He felt the world suddenly grow darker, everything stopping in place. A voice echoed out in the dream.

    ¡°If only you knew the truth.¡±

    It was his own voice, one that was devoid of any sense of humanity. The young Halvorson tensed up.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°I am the part of you buried deep in the recesses of your mind,¡± the voice explained. ¡°I saw it all happen.¡±

    ¡°Saw what happened?¡±

    ¡°The day we split. The same day you saw it all burn down in front of you. The day where it was all too much. Would you like a glimpse?¡±

    Before Seamus could protest, he was subjected to the horrors of his memories.

 B.3 Chapter 17: Iendis

    J. Holter

    8:03 a.m.

    03/27/21

    Hours: 92.6

    James stared at the digital screen, his eyes focusing on the hours he had worked so far. It felt strange to see all the time he had put into his job, especially since he had little to no memory of working those hours.

    ¡°Get to work, James,¡± a voice called out. James tensed up at the voice of his supervisor, who was standing nearby.

    ¡°Got it,¡± the young man muttered. He turned to head to his current area of work. His promotion from a month back had moved him from the labor heavy work of the warehouse to the pen pushing paperwork and testing office in the back. It was supposed to be a comfy job, something that James himself had strived for. Yet the blond man couldn¡¯t help but feel out of place in these nice clothes and pressed slacks.

    James caught a couple of glances from his coworkers as he headed his way. Most of their gazes were fixed on him for much longer than before. Their eyes seemed far from friendly. Still, the blond man pushed ahead and ignored the looks. Yet he could feel the heavy air in the building grow uneasy. James tried to break the awkwardness by greeting a couple of them.

    ¡°Hey Malcolm! How¡¯s it going Dan?¡± He called out. None of them responded, only opting to keep a focus on their work. Even Sam, a friendly face, shoved past James with an uninterested look.

    ¡®Everyone seems distant.¡¯

    James paused to allow a response to his thoughts, to which there was none. He blinked. Who did he expect to answer him? He shook away the feeling. It was probably his lack of sleep. James pushed past his worries and headed to his office, which sat in an air-conditioned part of the building, compared to the stuffy air he was used to before.

    Upon entering, James felt his stomach sink. There were stacks of forms and unfulfilled sheets. He groaned as he set his jacket aside. This was going to take some time. It was probably going to take all day. James sat down in his chair, his fingers moving to rub the exhaustion out of his eyes. A part of him still wished he was moving crates and heavy lifting cargo rather than this crap. Still, this was the job. He had no other choice.

    James sighed as he moved in to fill out the first of the sheets. As he clicked on the end of his pen, a strange icy feeling came along his left hand. It was short, but it left a lasting impression on James. He furrowed his brow and looked down at his fingers. They seemed fine, but James could swear there was a sense of numbness within them. He clenched his left hand into a fist before he focused on his work.

    James spent the better part of his workday writing reports and filling out forms that archived any cargo that came in and out of the warehouse. His right hand would cramp up at times, but the young man pushed through it. Still, James couldn¡¯t help but feel the hammer of boredom dawn on him. His eyelids grew heavy as he wrote down the next part of his report, this one detailing the damaged box that came in through the cargo bay. He yawned and stretched once it was over, his spine making popping sounds as he pressed it against the back of his chair.

    This was a miserable feeling. James sighed as he looked down at the next stack, this one looking even more menacing than the last. He rubbed his eyes once more.

    ¡®No one will mind if I take a quick nap, right? Hm, might be best to take it in the supply closet or bathroom¡­¡¯

    As James fantasized about the idea of sleep, the door to his office opened. Before James could respond or react, a small stack of papers landed on his desk, with red marker circled all over it.

    ¡°This is unacceptable,¡± a heavy accent called out. James raised an eyebrow at his supervisor, who was visibly upset.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Form number 16709, you marked that there was no damage to cargo. Yet the customer called back saying that the order has scuff marks on its exterior.¡± While not shouting, his supervisor¡¯s voice was one level short of it.

    James sighed, his hand grabbing the marked papers. ¡°I noted the scuffs here in the note sections. Look, I even circled and underlined it,¡± James¡¯ own voice was close to a mumble. He was trying desperately not to yawn.

    ¡°This is damage!¡± His supervisor insisted. ¡°You have to check it here and let me or Marc know about it!¡± The older man tapped on the checkboxes.

    ¡°My bad. It was a slight mistake. I glossed over it by accident,¡± James breathed out the same excuse he had used the other times this had happened.

    ¡°This is unacceptable behavior. Mistakes like these cost us money, you know¡­¡± His supervisor shook his head at James as he went on another one of his rants about money. James could only tune out as the asshole went about pay and position. James knew better than to take the man seriously. After all, this was the same asshole who thought anything over five minutes in the bathroom during work hours was akin to stealing from the company.

    ¡°James!¡± His supervisor snapped his fingers. The act woke James up from his temporary daze, his eyes opening some more. The supervisor narrowed his gaze. ¡°Are you sleeping? James Holter, this is unacceptable behavior!¡± The heavy accent of his voice emphasized on the word unacceptable. It was the one phrase that pissed James off. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but whenever this guy used the word, it would be for the lightest of reasons. Chewing gum, listening to music while working, or even spending one minute over break. This asshole had the stick so far up his ass that he could classify as a muppet.

    James could only watch as the supervisor snapped his fingers and rambled on about sleep. He talked about how James shouldn¡¯t have an excuse for being tired, despite the young man being forced to work far into overtime and drive a forty minute commute to work and back. James bit his tongue as the rant went on and on. His hands slowly clenched into fists, his thoughts going crazy. The words of his supervisor slowly turned into nothing but a mumbled mess. It grated on James.

    ¡®Just shut up.¡¯

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky enough to move up in this job, yet you continue to make mistakes despite it being a month since you started. This is unacceptable.¡± James gritted his teeth at the repeated word. The rant had only gone on for ten seconds, but it was starting to feel like an hour for the young man.

    ¡°You will need to work overtime again. If this keeps up, we will cut expenses from your paycheck.¡± At this point, the older man was starting to threaten James¡¯ own livelihood.

    ¡®Hit him.¡¯

    James could feel a colder, darker part of his thoughts seep into his mind.

    ¡®Punch him, Break his nose. Shut him the fuck up.¡¯

    He could visualize it now. The blood speckling upon his fists as he pummels this man¡¯s face in. HIs exhaustion slowly faded away by the second. James could feel a surge of anger in his veins. It would be so easy. All he had to do was grab the supervisor by the collar and go to town.

    ¡®It won¡¯t be enough. Kill him! Stab his throat open!¡¯ His thoughts screamed.

    James could feel his body moving suddenly, his legs springing himself upon his feet. In a moment, he was standing.

    His supervisor went quiet, his eyebrows raising into an accusatory stare. ¡°What is it? Are you going to say something?¡±

    James clenched his jaw tightly. His fists shook but didn¡¯t swing. ¡°I need to get forms from Kelly¡¯s office,¡± he breathed out, his adrenaline still running. Without waiting for a response, James stormed out of the room.

    He hurried off from the office, far from it. Before he knew it, he was in the supply room. James¡¯ fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles went white. He took a deep breath.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± He managed out. His anger had nearly taken over. Not only that, but it was entirely out of the blue. James had never felt this type of bloodlust. He had dealt with his supervisor hundreds of times before. He was capable keep his inner feelings buried. Now, however, he wanted to kill him. His instincts were no longer limited to just fighting. No, now they screamed for blood. James looked down at his shaking hands. His palms had bruises where his fingernails dug in.

    ¡°James? Are you alright?¡± A voice called out from behind the door.

    James took another breath. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Seamus. I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°Seamus?¡± The coworker peeped his head in the room. ¡°I¡¯m Alan, remember?¡± He asked.

    James blinked. ¡°Yeah, Alan. Sorry, my head¡¯s been spinning lately. Not enough sleep, y¡¯know?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Got it.¡± Alan furrowed his brow but said nothing else.

    James sighed. ¡°Hey Alan, can you tell Steve that I¡¯m punching out early? I need to tend to some personal business.¡± James pointed to the watch on his left wrist. It was currently 5:02 in the afternoon.

    While James was initially going to stay a little longer, he knew he wouldn¡¯t be able to deal with his asshole as a supervisor, let alone get any work done. Besides, he needed to get home and make sure to get ready for his anniversary date with Monica.

    ¡°Sure, but you owe me one,¡± Alan muttered.

    ¡°You got it.¡±

    <hr>

    James looked at his phone, which displayed the time as 7:34.

    ¡°Where is she?¡± he muttered. Monica was late again. While it was understandable any other time, this was their anniversary. He expected for her to at least care enough to show up on time. He pulled at his tie, which was uncomfortably choking him out. ¡°Why did I agree to wear this stupid thing?¡± James cursed under his breath as he tried to loosen it a little.

    Monica had chosen this fancy restaurant for their date and she had wanted James to dress up nicely for it. James wasn¡¯t comfortable with the place, but he couldn¡¯t really argue with her. This was their fourth year together, after all. Still, after glancing at the online menu for the restaurant, he wondered if he would still have enough money for rent this month. Before James could ask the server for another glass of water, his date finally showed up.

    Monica was at the front entrance, her heels clacking against the floor as she made her way to James¡¯ table. She was wearing a black dress, its material like that of glittery silk. The dress design showed off her curves in a classy way, the low cut on her cleavage enough to make the blond man blush.

    She had her hair done, her makeup enhancing the features on her expression. James watched as she arrived at the table, the young woman taking her time to sit down.

    ¡°Really? This was the best table you could get?¡±

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°I made the reservations a little too late,¡± James admitted nervously.

    ¡°Classic James, a day late and dollar short,¡± Monica huffed.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a bad table. I mean, we have a view of the aquarium,¡± James gestured towards the large tank of water to the rear of the restaurant, where tropical fish and other exotic sea creatures floated around.

    ¡°Wow, instead of a nice sunset, we get to look at colorful fish,¡± Monica sighed. ¡°Real romantic.¡±

    James couldn¡¯t help but let out a breath of frustration, which he disguised as a cough. ¡°Waiter!¡± He raised his hand to flag down one server nearby, who immediately came to help. ¡°We¡¯re ready to order.¡±

    ¡°Alright, what will you two like to order?¡± The waiter asked the couple. Monica looked down at her menu, her fingers pointing at one of the meals. As she ordered, James looked for a cheaper option on the menu. As he did so, he felt a strange presence. He looked up and searched for where the feeling was coming from. As expected, there didn¡¯t seem to be anything wrong. At least, that¡¯s what he told himself. While brief, James could¡¯ve sworn he saw a familiar woman in strange clothing walk by, her eyes amber like honey.

    ¡°What about you sir?¡± the waiter suddenly asked, catching James off guard.

    ¡°Oh, uh, I¡¯ll have the¡­¡± He searched the menu, his eyes focusing on the prices. He finally found the cheapest option, which was a fish dish. ¡°This one. The silverhead¡­.¡± he trailed off.

    ¡°Silverhead? Sir, we don¡¯t serve that here.¡±

    James blinked. The dish said salmon, yet he had read it differently. ¡°I¡­ huh.¡± He muttered dumbly.

    ¡°James?¡± Monica hissed. ¡°Are you paying attention? Order already!¡±

    James looked at Monica, who was doing her best to hurry the young man up. ¡°I¡­ I need to be excused,¡± he blurted.

    ¡°Wait, what?¡± Before Monica could ask more, James was already up. Without much of another word, he walked off in the direction of the bathroom. He felt how his chest tightened and his mind grew foggier. It was getting harder to think straight, let alone speak. James slammed the restroom door open, his breath heavy and quick. He hurried to the nearby sink and mirror, turning on the water.

    The young man splashed the cold water onto his face, hoping to actually wake himself up. When that didn¡¯t work, he took stable breaths, his eyes closing as he tried to focus. What was happening? Why was he thinking of these things? Who was Seamus? What was the deal with that strange woman he saw earlier? The hell was a silverhead? These questions bothered James, as they made his head hurt beyond belief. He grabbed a paper towel with his left hand, using it to dry his face.

    As he pressed the towel against his heated skin, images flashed in front of him. In every blink, James saw things he had never seen before. A blackened hand. The face of someone who had suffered a terrible fate. Blue burning flames crackled and popped at eye sockets and a gaping jaw. The cold frost on his hand.

    James recoiled and screamed. He blinked. Everything was normal again. His left hand was normal again. His reflection in the mirror was the same as before. Groomed and well kept. That was James. Right?

    James looked down at himself. He wasn¡¯t sure what to think anymore. His thoughts ran rampant and his sense of reality was deteriorating. He turned around to the restroom¡¯s exit.

    ¡®What the hell am I?¡¯

    The young man wasn¡¯t sure what was real or not.

    What feels real to you?

    James looked behind him. No one. Yet he swore he heard someone say something. He swallowed his nerve. Was he hallucinating?

    ¡®Then again, what feels real to me?¡¯

    James thought back to the images that flashed before him. They felt real. They felt like actual things that had happened. It was to the point where James could faintly recall the pain from them. Still, he wasn¡¯t a hundred percent sure if it really was all real. For all he knew, this was all just a weird nightmare or result of his lack of medication.

    ¡®But, if there¡¯s a chance that it¡¯s all real¡­¡¯

    James could feel his mind grasp at a certain image among the ones that had flashed earlier that day. It was one that he could not get his thoughts out of. There was only one way to make sure. James walked out of the restroom, his breathing now under control and his mind set on his mission.

    He headed back to the table, where Monica was impatiently waiting. ¡°James! Are you alright?¡± His girlfriend stood up from the table. While worried, James could catch the hint of embarrassment and shame coming from her voice.

    ¡°I¡­¡± He trailed a little. James was hesitating.

    ¡®Is it really a good idea?¡¯ he wondered to himself. This was possibly going to go south, regardless if he was right.

    ¡°James?¡± Monica spoke up once more. She took a step towards him. ¡°Have you been taking your meds? Do you need to go home?¡±

    James furrowed his brow. ¡°What happened last August?¡± he asked suddenly.

    ¡°What?¡± Monica looked dumbfounded, as if she didn¡¯t hear what James had said.

    ¡°Last August. Nick said we almost broke up. Why?¡±

    ¡°James, you¡¯re confused. Calm down.¡±

    ¡°Just answer me,¡± James pushed.

    Monica turned a bright red. ¡°We got into a dumb fight about you wanting to leave the city! Don¡¯t you remember? You wanted to go off somewhere, and I said no! We fought and separated for like a week!¡± Monica hissed under her breath.

    James shook his head. ¡°No! That¡¯s not what happened. What happened is that I caught you cheating on me. The guy you fucked! Mike! I beat him up that day!¡±

    ¡°What?! What day?!¡±

    ¡°The day I got fired! The day I crashed! The day I got summoned to¡ª¡± James stopped himself.

    Monica looked even more worried. ¡°James, you¡¯re confusing me. Summoned to where?¡±

    ¡°Valenfrost,¡± James muttered. The gears in his mind clicked and stopped. Without warning, it had all come back in a rush. Dahlia. Seamus. Deimos. Faust. Memories of his real life rushed in and replaced his fake Earth ones. It was so sudden that it caused him to stumble in place.

    ¡°I was summoned to Valenfrost¡­¡± He looked around his surroundings. Earthling tables and architecture looked so foreign and strange. It was disorienting to him. ¡°Why am I back here? Why am I on Earth?¡±

    ¡°James, you¡¯re scaring me. Calm down and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut up! This isn¡¯t real!¡± James shouted. ¡°This is some sort of illusion!¡± His outburst seemed to catch the worrisome glances of the men and women around the place, their eyes staring at James.

    Even a waiter decided to intervene. ¡°Sir, calm down. You are disrupting everyone¡¯s meal.¡±

    ¡°The hell with this! It¡¯s all fake!¡± James shouted. He gestured to the restaurant, waving his arms as if to shoo away the illusion. ¡°It¡¯s all in my head¡­ That¡¯s what it is¡­¡± He breathed out, his chest growing tight with anxiety.

    ¡°James! Calm down!¡± Monica¡¯s voice called to the blond man, but he didn¡¯t care. Without another word, he ran out of the restaurant, leaving behind his date and a building full of confused people.

    James headed to his car, set on his new mission. He needed to go back, to get out of this place once and for all. He had his friends counting on him, dammit. Once he entered his car, he took his deep breaths. James needed a clear head. He needed to think. As he sat there all alone, surrounded by silence, an inkling of an idea formed in his head.

    ¡®That¡¯s it. I just need to go there. Where it began.¡¯

    James took another deep breath, his hand moving to grab his keys. He started up his honda civic, which sputtered to life. With no hesitation or regard to safety, he pressed hard on the pedal, speeding off from the restaurant.

    James was headed to where it had all changed for him. The beginning of it all. To the lake where he was summoned from.

    <hr>

    It took some time, but before long, James had arrived at Black Water Lake. He parked his car at the side of the dirt road that led to it, the black waters visible from his car. He left all of his things behind in the vehicle before finally approaching the lake. James undid his tie as he walked, his free hand slipping his jacket off. Soon enough, he would reach the open shore, which was more akin to a marsh than a beach. His dress shoes sank in the mud, his socks getting soaked in cold water. Finally, he stopped. James stood at the lake¡¯s shore, staring out into the distant waters.

    The blond man gritted his teeth. ¡°Take me back!¡± He shouted at the top of his lungs. No response. James cursed and grabbed a rock. He tossed it into the black waters. Nothing. ¡°Send me back to Valenfrost! I¡¯m not going to stay here any longer! Take me back!¡± He threw more rocks at the lake, hoping to actually get a response. Yet nothing happened.

    James stood there for an hour, throwing rocks and insults at the lake before his voice went hoarse. By then, he was on his knees, mud staining his formerly nice clothes.

    ¡°Take¡­me¡­back¡­¡± He wheezed out. Nothing.

    ¡°Quite the persistent one, are you?¡± a female voice suddenly called out.

    James turned around, only to see no one. His expression darkened. ¡°You put me here, didn¡¯t you?! Take me out of it!¡±

    At first, there was silence. Then, the voice came back, this time laughing her ass off.

    ¡°I am not the one who placed you in this spell! If anything, I am here to break you out.¡±

    The voice sounded soothing, sultry, almost. Before James could ask the voice a question, the scenery around suddenly changed. There was now an unknown source of light that bathed the world in red. James looked at the lake, seeing that it had all dramatically changed. The trees were now burnt and falling apart, their trunks sinking into the mud. Buildings littered the lake, their edges visible from afar. Both Azuran and Earth structures sank and rose from the waters, the visage disorienting. The moon above was a blood red, its light tinting everything in sight.

    ¡°I quite like this world. It really is interesting.¡±

    ¡°Who are you?¡± James managed out.

    ¡°I am the one who will lead you to legendary status,¡± the voice whispered. ¡°I have been watching you for a long time, James Holter.¡±

    There was now a runic slab in the middle of the lake, reminiscent of the one that James had seen back on Earth. Yet now it was made of black obsidian, red runes burnt on it. Blackened hands grabbed at its bottom, almost like they were trying to pull it down. The moon above shone upon the slab, the runes on it pulsing like a heart. It looked hellish.

    ¡°What the hell are you saying?¡± James asked. He looked around the lake, trying to get up. He would not be able to. Black, undead hands grasped at his body, pulling him down. James could see that the zombies they belonged to bore glowing blue eyes that mimicked his own. His eyes widened at the sight of one zombie. It was Gryff, the knight he had killed last Frost. The dead man stared at him with burning sockets, his hands grabbing at James¡¯ left arm.

    James couldn¡¯t help but feel nauseous. He tried to fight the undead off, to get away from them. Yet they held him down like a vise, dragging him further into the mud.

    ¡°Do not fight it. I am simply breaking you out of this illusionary dream.¡± The voice came back. This time, James could clearly tell where it was coming from. Delicate and pale hands appeared around the runic slab, gently caressing the runes. James shivered, feeling how his own chest tightened in response. Was he connected to that thing?

    ¡°You are so interesting. So different from the others,¡± the voice murmured. The hands grasped at the runes, the color of which turned from demonic red to a heavenly purple. James doubled over, gasping as his heart experienced what he could assume was ecstasy.

    The voice giggled. ¡°This is only a glimpse of my true power. Cherish it.¡± With that said and done, the slab before him sank further into the black waters, before it disappeared.

    James gritted his teeth, forcing himself to straighten up.

    The voice came back once more. ¡°Above you.¡±

    With little of a choice, the young man looked up and saw her. It was a woman, her body floating above James. She was wrapped in golden chains, her hands and arms held with taut bandages. A blindfold was wrapped around her eyes, covering her upper face. Yet James could tell she was stunningly beautiful. Her skin was like a fair alabaster, smooth just from the look of it. Her visible features were flawless and smooth, lips lush and begging for contact. Despite it all, however, James felt revulsion looking at her.

    ¡°You¡¯re that voice. I remember hearing you before Faust¡¯s memory kicked in¡­ What do you want from me?¡± James demanded.

    ¡°I want to know you, James. To know your fate.¡±

    Her whispers were like sweet promises, the words like pillows for James¡¯ ears. He shook the feeling away almost immediately.

    ¡°Fate?¡± he asked.

    ¡°The Tree of Fate shudders at your existence! You are truly something special,¡± she exclaimed. ¡°Come and find my people. My worshippers. They reside east of your island, near the Abyssal Sea,¡± the woman whispered.

    ¡°Who are you really?¡± James muttered, watching as she came closer to the blond man.

    ¡°I am beyond your understanding¡­ A deity with powers beyond imagination.¡± She grinned as her hands reached James¡¯ cheek. He couldn¡¯t budge as the zombies below him were clenching him tightly, their grip strong enough to paralyze James.

    ¡°I am Iendis. Sister of Thien and Daughter of Myr,¡± she revealed, her soft hands caressing the blond man¡¯s cheek. ¡°If you seek me out, I will guide you to become something greater than a Lumen Knight. Greater than a herald,¡± Iendis whispered to James. The undead that held James shouted out in praise.

    ¡°Hail the Draugr! Hail the Draugr!¡±

    ¡°Long live the Draugr of Valenfrost,¡± Iendis whispered to James, before she brought her lips to his. James struggled, but couldn¡¯t do anything as she kissed him. He could feel how cool and smooth her lips were before they soon heated up. Before he knew it, the kiss had turned blazing hot. His body shuddered but soon relaxed at the kiss, his body sinking faster into the ground.

    Paralyzed, James Holter was dragged into the cold marsh, his world going dark.

 B.3 Chapter 18: The Witch

    Gwenyth stepped onto the dock of Buravon, her boots stepping onto bloody stains that were soaked into the wood. The elf looked down at the planks below her, the long marks of blood telling her that someone was drGwenyth stepped onto the dock of Buravon, her boots stepping onto bloody stains that were soaked into the wood. The elf looked down at the planks below her, the long marks of blood telling her that someone was dragged across the docks. She looked up to the town ahead, its buildings aflame. The fire was dying down now, but a mere hour ago, it had been blazing bright like an Ignition spell. It had illuminated the night air like a distant candle, its heat enough to make the air shimmer.

    ¡°Any survivors visible?¡± Arthur called out.

    ¡°No. There¡¯s no one,¡± Gwenyth muttered as she turned back to the longship. William stepped out onto the docks, his hand carrying a sheathed sword. Arthur followed behind him, his hand grabbing at the herald.

    ¡°You stay behind. Gwenyth and I will scour the town.¡± Arthur¡¯s command seemed to piss William off.

    ¡°What if it¡¯s bandits? You can¡¯t expect me to stay behind and do nothing,¡± the herald refuted as he pulled away from Arthur¡¯s grip.

    ¡°I expect you to stay here and keep low. If there¡¯s any chance of survivors, I¡¯m not risking them outing you as a foreigner,¡± the apostle explained.

    ¡°That¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about?¡± William stared at Arthur in disbelief.

    ¡°Will, I¡¯m not taking the chance of survivors. If¨C¡±

    ¡°There aren¡¯t any survivors,¡± a voice cut into the conversation, catching the attention of everyone. Eilif Norak sat on the railing of the ship, his legs dangling off the edge without so much of a care. His brass goggles were focused on the town ahead, the light of the flames reflecting off them. ¡°Nothing lives in that town. I can feel it through the ley lines.¡±

    Gwenyth stared at the bounty hunter, her body sending chills down her back. He was already a mystery to the elf, but learning that he had the ability of a necromancer was more than worrying.

    Arthur looked back at the town. ¡°Are you sure, Eilif?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure of it.¡± The bounty hunter raised three fingers. ¡°Not a single person alive, but there are three distinct undead creatures lurking there.¡± Eilif turned to the three before him. ¡°They are in that town.¡±

    Gwenyth grabbed at her saber¡¯s hilt, her gaze moving back to the burning town. ¡°If what he says is true¡­¡± she trailed off.

    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± Eilif reiterated. ¡°Arthur, it¡¯s your call,¡± the bounty hunter added.

    The former apostle looked at both the hunter and herald, his head shaking. ¡°Fine. Will, you¡¯re coming with us. Eilif, watch the ship.¡± Arthur went ahead, his sword already drawn.

    Gwenyth turned to William, who was quickly getting his own sword. She raised a hand to stop the herald. ¡°If you¡¯re going with us, then I suggest you keep your holy castings to yourself. There might not be anyone around, but the last thing I want is some spellcaster finding us out. The traces of your goddess are enough to be detected miles away. So keep it to your personal castings.¡± The elf made sure William got it through his head.

    The herald nodded. ¡°Fine,¡± William visibly clenched his jaw as he said it, but didn¡¯t seem to want to argue with the elf. With that said, the three made their way to Buravon, determined to find out what happened to the settlement.

    <hr>

    James gasped awake, his hand instinctively reaching for the air above him. He was back in the waking world, free of the dream he was trapped in. He sat up quickly, huffing as he grasped at his chest.

    ¡°I¡¯m alive, I¡¯m alive,¡± James took a few more deep breaths, getting his heartbeat under control. ¡°I¡¯m back in Valenfrost¡­¡± James couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. ¡°I¡¯m back home.¡±

    ¡®What the hell happened?!¡¯ Faust cut into his thoughts, his voice reverberating in James¡¯ head.

    ¡°I was¡­ I was in a dream of some sort. Illusion magic, I think. I was back on Earth, back in my old life.¡± James hurriedly explained what had happened to the spirit, including Iendis and her strange words.

    ¡®That¡¯s¡­ something. However, we don¡¯t have time to discuss dreams¡­¡¯

    ¡°Wait, what happened?¡± James furrowed his brow at the spirit¡¯s panicking tone. He then realized that he wasn¡¯t in the same place he had fallen asleep at. In fact, James was in some dark room, filled with abandoned shields and rusted weapons. It looked like an abandoned armory, the only source of light being the lantern that hung out in the hallway.

    ¡°Faust, did you get affected by the illusion?¡±

    ¡®Of course I did. That witch targeted me, too. Thank the gods for Seamus. He managed to weaken her link for a short time, which allowed me a chance to break out of it.¡¯

    ¡°Seamus is awake? Where is he?¡± James peeked out of the room, his eyes scanning the hallway.

    ¡®About that, here¡¯s some bad news. He¡¯s not awake,¡¯ Faust revealed.

    ¡°Wait. What?¡± James blinked. ¡°What do you mean he¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡®Look out!¡¯

    James felt his body kick away from the doorway, narrowly dodging a slash from a sword. James stumbled back onto the floor, his hands grabbing at his own weapon. The room grew darker as a figure stepped into the doorway, blocking out the lantern light. James stood up quickly, brandishing his trusty blade. At first, he had taken the figure for an undead conjuration, but soon realized the truth quickly when he noticed the stranger¡¯s bowl shaped hair.

    ¡°Seamus?¡± James questioned.

    ¡®That¡¯s not Seamus. At least, not consciously.¡¯ Faust explained. ¡®He went berserk when I tried to talk to him earlier. He¡¯s fast. Faster than anyone we faced off before.¡¯

    As if to prove the spirit right, Seamus slumped forward, his arms hanging limply in front of him for a second. Before James could question it, the younger man rushed at him at terrifying speed, his sword hand a blur. Steel clashed and James found himself contesting blades with his friend. Their swords scraped against each other, James¡¯ own strength holding off the younger man¡¯s push.

    ¡°Seamus?! Seamus, wake up!¡± James shouted. No response. Seamus¡¯ eyes were full of cold resolution, no sign of the former man in them.

    Without a word, Seamus pulled back and struck again, his movements too fast for James to track. Thankfully, he had a veteran spirit with quicker reflexes. Faust forced James¡¯ sword hand to raise once more, deflecting a slash that was directed to his gut.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± James cursed as he backed away from the unconscious man in front of him. Seamus didn¡¯t let up, however, his strikes coming back at lightning speed. Faust¡¯s reflexes helped for most of the blocks, but James knew that his body couldn¡¯t keep up with Seamus¡¯ strikes. At some point during their clashes, James felt a burning pain bite at his side, the act making him falter for just a second. That second would prove fatal.

    Seamus¡¯ sword came in at James¡¯ neck area, quicker than the blond man could react. Instead of slashing his throat open, the blade¡¯s edge only nicked at the skin, leaving just a slight cut. James stumbled back in surprise, unsure of how he had lived through that. Once he looked at the young man before him, he saw his answer. Glowing wires of magic held Seamus back, his body stiff as he was dragged away from James.

    ¡°What the fuck¡­¡± was all James could mutter.

    The caster of the magic stood a few meters behind Seamus, her hands forming complicated runes. She wore black and purple robes, her wide-brimmed hat crooked like Nathan¡¯s. The witch before him strained with her spell, her eyes meeting with the blond man¡¯s. James felt a cold anger run into his veins. It was her. She had been the one who had James stuck in that hellhole of a dream. There was no proof, but the young man felt it in his bones.

    ¡°You,¡± James gripped onto the handle of his sword, ready to attack her. Yet Faust held him back.

    ¡®She¡¯s helping!¡¯ The spirit shouted in his head.

    ¡®What?! She¡¯s the one who got us into this mess!¡¯ James shot back.

    ¡®Put aside your anger, James! We need to focus on Seamus before things get worse!¡¯

    James clenched his jaw, but didn¡¯t argue with Faust. He was right. There were more important things. For now, he was going to have to play nice.

    ¡°Kill him now! Before he breaks free!¡± The witch shouted out suddenly.

    ¡°What? No!¡± James blinked at the witch¡¯s suggestion.

    ¡°He¡¯ll kill us all if we let him live! Not just that, but we still have the other one to deal with!¡± She explained.

    ¡°Other one?!¡± James was confused, his mind muddled with questions and disbelief.

    With confusion in the air, Seamus used the moment to break out of his binds. His sword slashed at the glowing wires, breaking them off completely.

    ¡°Kill him or I will!¡± the witch shouted, her hands forming a rune.

    ¡°Wait!¡± James tried to stop her, but it was too late.

    ¡°Night Spray!¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    Numerous purple orbs came at Seamus in a flurry, set on lighting him aflame. Seamus only watched calmly before his hand grabbed at his cloak. With a swift movement, he tore the cape off, tossing the cloth at the purple fireflies. The magical swarm reacted violently, burning and tearing through the cloak, giving the young man a couple seconds of safety. It proved to be enough time for Seamus to run past the spell¡¯s projectiles, his sword aimed at the witch.

    ¡°Magi Shield!¡± The witch quickly shouted, her hands forming another set of runes. A blue bubble formed around her, the spell deflecting the young man¡¯s blade.

    ¡°Redirect!¡± She swiped her hand as she shouted, her previous spell reacting to her words. Instead of hitting the wall like any ordinary spell, the remaining purple fireflies changed course, now heading towards Seamus once more. Seamus stepped away from the witch, his sword moving to slash at the incoming projectiles.

    However, he wouldn¡¯t have to.

    ¡°Carapace!¡± James¡¯ voice echoed with magical ability, his body reacting to the word. The Night Spray spell impacted with a rusted shield the blond man had grabbed from the armory, its metal growing red hot as the spell set it alight with magical flame. James breathed heavily, the aftertaste of berries still in his mouth. He turned to Seamus, who only stared at him.

    ¡°Seamus! Wake up! I know you¡¯re still in there. I need you to take back control!¡± James hoped his words would have some effect, but the young man before him didn¡¯t even seem to acknowledge his words. Seamus had already raised his sword, his weapon mid-swing.

    James turned to block the attack with his heated shield, feeling the recoil of the strike send him tumbling back.

    ¡®You¡¯re going to have to knock some sense into him. It doesn¡¯t seem like he¡¯s waking up soon,¡¯ Faust spoke out to James.

    ¡°How did he get like this?¡± was the only thing James could respond with. Seamus readied his weapon once more, this time locking gazes with James. The blond man raised his shield, his left arm sending out waves of cold to alleviate the burning pain it emanated.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to kill him,¡± the witch sounded out from her bubble, her hands tearing the seal off what looked like a potion.

    ¡°I¡¯m not doing that,¡± James answered through gritted teeth.

    ¡°You have to! He¡¯s dangerous to us and himself! Letting him live any longer will¨C¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not killing him!¡± James shouted in anger, waves of heat bursting from his gaze. ¡°He stays alive, or so help me god I will throw you down into the canals myself!¡±

    The witch stared at James with a look of surprise, her eyes staring at a spot above his forehead.

    ¡°Do you understand?!¡± James barked.

    The witch scowled. ¡°I understand. No killing.¡±

    James turned his attention back to Seamus, who was as still as a statue.

    ¡®He¡¯s still standing there,¡¯ Faust noted.

    ¡°He¡¯s waiting for my next move,¡± James muttered. He took a few slow steps to his friend, watching as the man before him breathed slowly. Seamus sounded as if he was asleep, his breathing akin to snoring, almost. Yet Seamus was standing there, his body tensing up the closer James got.

    ¡°Seamus¡­ It¡¯s me, Ja¨C¡± His attempt at talking was cut short when a sword slash struck at his raised shield. Faust¡¯s consciousness had flooded James for only a second, enough time for the spirit to block the lethal attack. James stepped back, his own sword moving to slash at the young man¡¯s hands. No dice. Seamus quickly dodged, his weapon a blur almost. James moved to block but was too late. Sharp cold pain seared at his right shoulder, the successful hit enough to make James wobble and stagger. Seamus took this chance to advance upon James, his sword swinging down on the blond man.

    Clang!

    In a desperate attempt, James raised his shield to block the attack once more. Unfortunately, doing so made him lose his footing. James fell to the ground hard, his shield raising to block any more attacks from Seamus. It would prove useless, as Seamus simply kicked the shield out of James¡¯ hand. He aimed his sword¡¯s tip at James before thrusting one last time.

    Faust clicked into control, the spirit possessing James¡¯ body for another split second. This time, Faust redirected the upcoming blade into James¡¯ left shoulder, the sharp steel stabbing into him. Thankfully, it only pierced a couple inches deep thanks to a combination of the Carapace spell and gambeson he wore.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± It was still far from painless. James gritted his teeth as the sword stabbed at his shoulder. His bandaged hand grabbed the sword¡¯s guard, preventing Seamus from pulling it out. Using his left hand¡¯s cryomancy, James froze the young man¡¯s hand to the handle, keeping him in place. If talking was out of the question, there really was only one non lethal way of defeating Seamus.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I have to do this.¡± Using his free hand, James grabbed at his friend¡¯s head, forcing his will onto the young man. Almost instantly, James felt his eyes burst with unbearable heat, his ley lines impacting Seamus¡¯. Images flashed in James¡¯ eyes, showing him what plagued the young man¡¯s memories.

    At first, it was memories of the past few months, including training and the interactions with people from Yorktown. Soon it turned to the Battle for Yorktown. James saw how Seamus had survived that fight. He saw how Seamus had killed Lumen Knight Hugo, his eyes seeing the halberd that was driven into the knight¡¯s skull. He saw the events of Aldren, watching as the woods burned around Seamus. Images of Vindis and Yorktown showed up once more. Now he was watching the Siege of Yorktown. James saw as Seamus slaughtered the marauders, his movements not unlike before. He watched as Seamus freaked out at the realization, how his body shook with terror.

    More images flashed, this time back when the young man was a prisoner of the marauders. What flashed after that made James sick to his stomach. Blood Moons. A fortress on fire. Screaming women and children. Burning ships. Ravens picking at corpses. A man losing his life in front of him. More images. Women dragged out of their homes, their hair pulled at by marauders and savages alike. Men in black armor killing off the wounded. Merchants being taken as prisoners. Another flash. He was met with the gaze of someone beyond menacing. Their pupils were the shape of four-pointed stars, which burned with purple magic. Before he could comprehend what he was looking at, the vision changed.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    The next and final flash was a memory much more vivid. Seamus was hiding, his attention focused on a beach covered in bodies. Standing among them was a man clad in steel and jewelry, all of it dirtied with crimson and sand. He was covered in arrows and spears, his body soon falling on its knees. Right in front of him was a man in black. Deimos wore no helmet, his bear cloak covering his armor. The Red Death only grinned as he raised a long ax, before he brought it down on the fallen Jarl.

    Seamus screamed, his body recoiling from the flashes. James fell back in shock, watching as the young man before him squirmed and grabbed at his head.

    ¡°Make it stop! Make it fucking stop!¡± Seamus yelled out.

    ¡°He¡¯s exposed!¡± The witch exclaimed from her bubble. ¡°Finish him!¡±

    ¡°I said no killing!¡± James shouted in anger. He moved to grab at Seamus¡¯ fallen weapon, making sure that the young man wouldn¡¯t be able to fight back.

    ¡®I don¡¯t think he¡¯s unconscious anymore,¡¯ Faust muttered.

    The spirit was right, as Seamus was currently screaming out in pain, his body moving around as if he was on fire. James felt guilt weighing on him, as he had just forced Seamus to relive painful memories that he probably had blocked out these past few months.

    Seamus banged a fist on the ground, his voice slowly going quiet. The young man was now curled up in a ball, his hands moving to hug at his knees.

    ¡°Seamus,¡± James muttered to the younger man. No response. ¡°Seamus,¡± James called out once more, louder this time.

    ¡°I should¡¯ve died on that island,¡± Seamus muttered softly. ¡°I should¡¯ve fought and died for my clan¡­ But I was a coward. A fucking coward!¡± He shouted.

    ¡°You¡¯re not a coward,¡± James responded. ¡°What the marauders did wasn¡¯t your fault. None of it was your fault.¡±

    Seamus remained quiet, his gaze fixed on the floor. ¡°I tried to kill you¡­ Didn¡¯t I?¡± His voice was shaking now. ¡°I¡­ I couldn¡¯t control myself. I can never control myself¡­¡± Seamus did something that surprised James. He laughed. ¡°I thought I could harness it. After all, it saved me the first couple of times. Instead, it tricked me into letting myself fall into its instincts and it almost killed you.¡±

    ¡°Seamus.¡±

    ¡°At the end of the day, I¡¯m a conflicted mess. A failure who can only cause problems!¡±

    ¡°Seamus!¡± James shouted once more, this time catching the other man¡¯s attention. ¡°You¡¯re not a failure. You are not a coward,¡± He stated. ¡°You¡¯re a hero to Yorktown. You¡¯re an inspiration to the younger guards. And most of all, you¡¯re my friend.¡±

    ¡°James, I¨C¡±

    ¡°Stop it. Stop living in your past. You¡¯re more than the man you were last year. You¡¯re not a coward anymore. I saw what happened. I saw the same thing you did.¡± James stood up. ¡°There¡¯s no more discussing this. You¡¯re not going to sit here and loathe yourself for the next five hours. You are going to get up because there are people who need you.¡±

    James moved to grab at Seamus¡¯ shoulders. He propped the young man up. ¡°Lilith is still asleep. Archibald, Bjorn, and Dimitri are still waiting for us. I¡¯m not going back without you. I will drag you if I have to.¡± James stared into the younger man¡¯s bewildered eyes.

    ¡°Why? Why are you adamant on me?¡± Seamus asked shakily.

    ¡°Because you have more to live for. You have a life to look forward to. And I¡¯ll be damned before I let you waste it!¡± James could feel his eyes burn with magic, his visage reflected upon Seamus¡¯ retinas. He could finally see what he looked like whenever he used these eyes. He looked wicked, the glow in his eyes outlining the edges of his skull. Still, the younger man blinked, his expression from before slowly dissipating.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Seamus managed out, his hands raising. Slowly and gently, he stood up, a look of hesitation on his face. James sighed, the heat from his eyes dying out quickly. He felt bad for having to resort to it, but it seemed to have worked on Seamus.

    ¡°How precious,¡± the witch¡¯s voice called out. James felt his anger from before returning, his focus now turning on the witch nearby. He hadn¡¯t forgotten the hell she had put him through, both mentally and physically, with those damned skeletons.

    ¡°You,¡± James breathed out in anger, his hand grabbing at his weapon once more.

    James made his way to the bubble shield that encapsulated the spellcaster. ¡°You can¡¯t break it. At least, not with physical force,¡± she boasted.

    ¡°Really? You want to test that theory?¡± James raised his left hand, which was covered in frost. He was more than ready to test out his abilities on the woman who had forced him to relive his life on Earth.

    The witch scowled at him. ¡°As much as I would love to see you fail at your attempts, there is a bigger problem.¡±

    ¡°What would that be?¡±

    ¡°Your older friend. The Lumen veteran, he¡¯s lost control.¡±

    ¡°Lost control? Like Seamus?¡±

    ¡°In a way. He¡¯s imagining everything around is his enemy. He¡¯s been destroying everything on the upper level, both undead and furniture alike.¡±

    ¡°This is your spell. Can¡¯t you cancel it out?¡±

    The witch huffed. ¡°Dream weaving isn¡¯t an exact science. I simply tried to make your friend to relive his past. It should have made his body fall asleep, as with any man. Yet he fought against the spell and brought out whatever demons he had buried deep in his mind. He¡¯s fighting with this imaginary threat and is swinging at anyone who comes near.¡±

    James looked to where he had last seen Harald. The ladder that led up to the upper floor was still there. Beyond the trapdoor, he could hear the faint sounds of fighting.

    ¡°There are still skeletons?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Of course. I kept their magic up after I realized he was fighting the spell. I was going to reinforce them, but he woke up.¡± The witch gestured to Seamus, who was currently sitting next to Lilith¡¯s sleeping form. ¡°I tried to force him back to sleep, but as it turned out, he was fully unconscious. Pure instinct kept him up and fighting.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not pure instinct,¡± James muttered softly. ¡°It¡¯s something more.¡± He didn¡¯t really know what it was, but James now knew that Seamus¡¯ mind had been fractured at some point. Judging from the flashes he had seen, the young man had gone through traumatic experience after another, which had damaged his psyche beyond repair. It could explain why Seamus couldn¡¯t remember certain things and the dramatic changes in both his emotions and way of speaking.

    ¡°How strange. You saw into his mind, didn¡¯t you?¡± The witch asked.

    ¡°Why do you care?¡± James asked.

    ¡°You really don¡¯t know how unique you are,¡± the spellcaster laughed. ¡°Mind alteration is a rarity. You manage to do it without so much of a touch. Hel, I have the gift of dream weaving and it is still difficult for me.¡±

    ¡°Your point being?¡± James asked in a hostile tone.

    The witch simply smiled. ¡°There might be a way to calm your older friend down. Non-lethally of course. You just need to listen to me, and this will go without a hitch.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±

    <hr>

    Harald took down another of the William clones, his arms burning with exhaustion. He was getting tired, his body not willing to keep going for any longer. Yet he couldn¡¯t afford to give up. He couldn¡¯t give that damned witch the satisfaction of defeating him. Harald wasn¡¯t ready to give in.

    ¡°Just die!¡± William¡¯s voice called out, the young man¡¯s visage appearing from thin air once more.

    Harald took his stance once more, his eyes focusing on William¡¯s swing. The same opener that young man had used all those years ago. The veteran sidestepped the soldier, his own weapon moving to block William¡¯s advance. Success. Sparks flew as Harald deflected the oncoming swing, leaving William stumbling. He took this chance to move in, his elbow pushing William back. The younger man, however, held his poise, tanking the elbow shot full on.

    Harald watched as William went for another stab at the veteran, intent on finishing the fight early. Another sound of steel clashing sounded out, this time from Harald¡¯s quick counter with his brace. William¡¯s attempt was foiled, and it left him wide open. Harald could¡¯ve swung in, finishing the soldier before him. Yet he restrained, as he had lived this fight a hundred times before. He would be a fool to let this simple mistake be the end of him a second time.

    William regained his footing mid stumble, his left hand already swinging a hidden dagger that would¡¯ve cost the veteran the match. The young man scowled, as he had surely betted that Harald would have tried for a follow up attack.

    ¡°You should pay for what you have done. For what you did!¡± William shouted.

    ¡°You think I haven¡¯t already?¡± Harald growled. ¡°I¡¯ve lost everything in my past life. Every waking moment, I am reminded of it. Every day I¡¯m still alive, I suffer in the memory of it all.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not enough! It will never be enough!¡± The soldier before him cried out in anguish. ¡°Once you¡¯re dead. Once you¡¯ve been dragged to Hel, then perhaps I will be at peace.¡±

    Harald clenched his jaw in anger. ¡°Then try it! I deserve it, don¡¯t I?¡± He raised his arms. ¡°Come on! Do your worst!¡± His words seem to strike a nerve with William, as the young man charged in yelling. Harald readied his stance, ready to go through with this fight once more. As expected, William went in with his same opener, both hands on his sword as he swung at full force. Harald countered the attack, driving William¡¯s blade to the ground.

    He kicked the sword out of the young man¡¯s strained hands, leaving him defenseless. Without so much of a breath, Harald stabbed through William¡¯s torso. Half of his blade¡¯s length sank into the young man¡¯s chest, drawing a pained gasp out of him. William¡¯s eyes widened at the sudden movements, his lungs trying to suck in as much air as possible.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry it has to be this way,¡± Harald murmured. He helped the younger man onto his knees, his sword still inside his torso. ¡°Don¡¯t fight it. It¡¯ll hurt less,¡± Harald advised. William did as told, his hands shaking as he tried to relax. His lips were moving without sound, as if he was trying to come up with the words to say to the veteran.

    ¡°It¡­ It isn¡¯t fair,¡± William managed. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to lose. Not me¡­¡± The young man gasped again, his jaw clenching at the pain.

    ¡°You did win,¡± Harald muttered. ¡°A long time ago, you won.¡±

    ¡°Yet here you are¡­ Alive.¡± That last word was coated in venom, its potency enough to make anyone flinch.

    Yet Harald seemed unaffected by it. ¡°Believe me. You won. In more ways than you can imagine.¡±

    ¡°I hope¡­ I hope death comes for you, Stroud. I hope it comes and leaves you nothing more than a cold, wet corpse, pierced by the blade of Lumen,¡± William choked out. He tried to breathe in more air, possibly to insult the veteran even more, but he failed to do so. Instead, William slumped on his knees, sword still inside of him. Harald could only stare at the body, his hand moving to grab the dead man¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°I hope so too,¡± he muttered softly. With little ceremony, Harald wrenched his weapon out of the corpse. He let it drop to the ground, where it already dissipated. Harald muttered as he wiped his weapon down, counting the seconds that went by. Once he had hit half a minute, a voice shouted out.

    ¡°Harald!¡±

    The veteran blinked. He had expected William¡¯s voice, but this felt different. He turned to the clone that had just appeared. It was William alright. Yet he looked off. Harald squinted before realizing that this clone was flickering.

    ¡°Harald! You need to stop fighting!¡± William shouted. That was not what the veteran was expecting. Was that witch¡¯s magic deteriorating? It would only make sense, as the clone before Harald differed from the rest. William this time looked like he was nothing more than a flickering illusion, different from the surreal versions that came before.

    ¡°I¡¯m close to breaking out,¡± he realized out loud. Harald was getting close to breaking the spell. All he needed to do was to keep fighting. The witch was obviously trying to trick him into stopping, as Harald¡¯s fighting had been weakening her hold.

    ¡°Harald! You need to listen!¡± William shouted this time. His voice was even deteriorating, as it sounded like it was overlapping with someone else¡¯s voice.

    ¡°You must take me for an idiot.¡± Harald raised his sword to William.

    ¡°Harald, it¡¯s me! It¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut it!¡±

    Harald rushed down the young man before him, his swing already aimed at William¡¯s neck. He never got to strike him down. William had somehow dodged the swing, almost as if his reflexes were on par with the veteran. Harald¡¯s swing struck nothing but air, the wide attack leaving him open to the young soldier. William, however, did not use the chance to counterattack. Instead, the flickering clone grabbed at Harald¡¯s face with his left hand. In an instant, everything went white.

    Harald cursed as he stumbled back, the screen over his eyes fading as quickly as it had come.

    ¡°What the¡­? Where am I?¡± He was no longer in the dark void. Instead, Harald found himself standing in a spot he had never expected to find himself in again. Rain poured down on the veteran, the ground below him now of grass and mossy rock. Waves crashed against a distant beach, the only people around being that of his old comrades. A ring of blue flames surrounded Harald and William.

    ¡°What did you do?!¡± Harald turned to the man responsible. William¡¯s visage still flickered, but it was far from the veteran¡¯s only plight.

    ¡°Harald, you need to listen to me! We can get you out, but you need to stop fighting.¡±

    ¡°Like hel I will,¡± Harald growled. He readied himself once more. This was a fight he had run through hundreds of times before. He knew exactly how to defeat William, how to counter him, how to kill him. William raised his own sword in defense, his focus on the veteran. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for doing this.¡± With that, the young man rushed Harald.

    The veteran moved to deflect the incoming attack, ready to counter it like before. However, William¡¯s attack never came. In fact, he wasn¡¯t even fighting like before. The soldier slid to Harald¡¯s shins, his boot kicking at the older man¡¯s leg.

    ¡°Agh!¡± The veteran buckled and fell onto his knee, his sword hand wildly swinging at William. His swing contacted rusted steel, sparking against a shield that had come out of nowhere. Before Harald could react, William¡¯s hand grabbed at his head.

    Like before, the world went white.

    <hr>

    ¡°Bind him!¡± James shouted at the top of his lungs. As requested, glowing ropes of magic materialized out of thin air, wrapping themselves around Harald¡¯s form.

    ¡°I¡¯ll kill you!¡± Harald shouted out, his arms straining against the magical bindings.

    ¡°He¡¯s going to break out of them!¡± The witch exclaimed.

    ¡°I just need a few seconds!¡± James breathed out. He had only connected to Harald for a second, but it had been enough to temporarily stun him. James and Faust just needed a few more seconds to snap Harald out of it.

    ¡°Do it now! I can¡¯t hold it much longer!¡± With that warning in mind, James moved to grab at the veteran¡¯s head, this time using both hands. As soon as his fingers made contact, James¡¯ world changed once more.

    This time, it wasn¡¯t just a flash of images.

    James found himself looking through the eyes of someone else, his sword clashing against another. Rain poured upon the both of them, the ground below now made of grass and dirt. Blue flames encircled both fighters. When he looked at who he was fighting, he saw Harald. Yet this Harald was not the veteran he was so accustomed to.

    This man in front of him was someone else entirely. His armor glinted with enchanted runes, his sword embedded with the same treatment. His salt and pepper hair was cut short, his beard trimmed and neat.

    Harald growled in anger. ¡°Azlene¡¯s Wrath!¡± he shouted. Flames bursted out around Harald, driving James back.

    ¡°Ember Slash!¡± Harald¡¯s shout rang out. The flames that had encapsulated him were snuffed out, showing that his swing was already upon James, sword set aflame with magical embers. James felt his body move to the side, narrowly dodging the swing.

    ¡°You need to stop Harald! I¡¯m here to help you out of this!¡±

    ¡°Silence illusion! You are nothing but a witch¡¯s incantation!¡± Harald stood up straight, his sword raising to James. ¡°I¡¯ll be damned before I am tricked!¡±

    ¡®It¡¯s no use. James, you need to fight him.¡¯ Faust¡¯s words echoed in the otherworldly man¡¯s mind.

    ¡®We can¡¯t break him out?¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯ve glimpsed at his head. This is a memory he¡¯s reliving. The only reason he¡¯s stuck is because he keeps winning this fight.¡¯

    ¡®Are you saying that I have to beat him?¡¯

    ¡®You have to. He¡¯ll only be able to break out once he goes through with it to the end. If he keeps winning, the dream will reset.¡¯

    James swallowed hard. This was going to be very difficult.

    ¡®Don¡¯t worry about it. Just follow my lead. I saw the memory. I know how this fight ends,¡¯ Faust encouraged.

    James nodded. ¡°Got it,¡± he muttered. He looked up to Harald, who stood waiting for the next attack.

    ¡®First, go for his opening. He has it right after his initial swing, so you¡¯re going to have to feint.¡¯

    James followed the advice, his feet scraping against the grass below him. He recalled his last training session, remembering when Harald had taught him how to feint attacks. James took a deep breath, his arms moving to swing.

    As expected, the younger Harald before him fell for it. The veteran swung at James, who was already backing out quickly.

    ¡®There it is! Strike at him! Don¡¯t be afraid to injure him, this is just a memory!¡¯

    James followed Faust¡¯s advice, his arms moving to raise his sword. He swung down on Harald¡¯s side, where his armor was weak. The blade cut through the opening, making a sickening sound of flesh being sliced. Harald winced at the strike, his sword moving to swing back at James.

    ¡®Drop!¡¯

    The blond man did as told, dropping to the ground in a squat. The veteran¡¯s attempted slash hit nothing but air, leaving James uninjured.

    ¡®Stab at his armor, there is a weak point right where his liver is!¡¯

    James propelled himself from his squat, using his spring to gain the momentum needed to break through the weak point. There was the sound of steel cutting through metal before it was followed by the fleshy sound of a successful stab. James and Harald fell to the ground, where both men struggled to fight. The soft grass and dirt so turned to mud as kicks and punches were thrown. James found himself absorbed in the moment, his fists landing on steel and skin.

    ¡®Grab your sword!¡¯

    James took the spirit¡¯s advice, his hand looking for the sword in the mud. It didn¡¯t take long before he finally found it, his fingers grasping at the handle. James struck Harald with the weapon, his blade hitting steel, cloth, and flesh.

    ¡®James! You need to calm down. If you kill Harald here, it¡¯ll restart the memory!¡¯

    Faust¡¯s words did nothing to stop James. He didn¡¯t care that his anger got the better of him. He didn¡¯t care that his mind was getting carried away. It didn¡¯t matter, as long as it meant winning.

    Soon enough, however, the fight began to die down. In the end, James found himself on top, his boot pinning Harald¡¯s arm to the ground while his hands held a sword¡¯s edge to the veteran¡¯s throat. Both men were out of breath, their armor and clothing covered in a thick layer of mud and blood. James blinked, realizing that Harald was no longer fighting back or throwing insults. He simply laid there, defeated. The blue flames that encircled them both were now gone, the runes on Harald¡¯s armor dead and without an ounce of magic.

    ¡°The duel is over!¡± A voice called out. James looked at the source, seeing a man in beaten steel armor. Still, through the blood that stained it, James could make out the wax seal that signified him as a Lumen Knight. The knight raised his hand to James.

    ¡°William Thatcher, you have beaten Harald Stroud, former champion and herald. You now take his mantle and status! Hail, the new Herald of Azlene!¡±

 B.3 Chapter 19: The Necromancer

    James winced as he pressed a cold hand to his bruised forehead. His cryomancy still needed some work to be useful, but for now it did well as a substitute for frozen peas. He looked to Harald, who was silent. The veteran was simply sitting there, taking the occasional sip from his flask.

    Earlier, James had to stop him from killing the witch, who had surrendered once they had broken the dream spell on Harald. She had told him she was simply not paid enough to risk her life for this shit. Still, that didn¡¯t stop Harald from his angry outburst, as he had swung the sword once he saw the crooked hat.

    After some yelling, talking, and holding back, Harald had finally agreed to play nice. Now, he sat on his lonesome, recovering his wounds and slowly resting his tired body. James couldn¡¯t blame the veteran for his reaction, as he himself had seen the hell the older man had gone through. There was going to be a time and place for James to discuss what had happened with Harald, but for now, the moment was still a sore spot. According to Faust, the angry outburst James felt in that dream resulted from Harald¡¯s emotions seeping into the blond man. Still, he couldn¡¯t help but feel that some of that rage was coming from himself. James knew first hand what losing control felt like and what happened in that dream felt all too natural to him.

    He thought back to his own dream, when he was reliving a better version of life on Earth. While James was temporarily safe and sound in that world, his blissful ignorance had turned to seething rage once he had learned of his situation. James didn¡¯t know what it was, but he hated the way his memories and past life were exploited. He hated the way his life was back then. Earth was a long time ago, even if it was nearly a year back. That it could¡¯ve all been different was irrelevant to the blond man. His past life was gone now, with no way of going back to it.

    He thought back to how he had broken out, his mind going to the image of Iendis floating above him. The demigoddess had spoken to him in such a surreal way that it was impossible to chalk the experience up as a fever dream. She had broken him out and had beckoned James to find her. Her words had made the otherworldly man wonder if she had been watching him for a while now, if she had always had her sights on him.

    ¡®Don¡¯t overthink it,¡¯ Faust advised.

    James nodded slowly. ¡°Yeah, I shouldn¡¯t get my thoughts caught up in things like this.¡± He had more important matters to attend to, such as finding that necromancer and getting it over with. James looked around the room, seeing how nearly everyone was injured in some way. Harald had bruises and cuts all over him, a result of his constant fighting with the skeletons and James.

    Seamus was nursing bruises that were the fault of skeletons and his unconscious fight. Even the witch had some slashes and cuts on her robes, a remnant of her attempted containment of Seamus. Even James himself was injured, his shoulder wound still burning from the ointment he had rubbed in it. The only one who was unhurt was strangely Lilith, who yawned as she rubbed her eyes.

    Her dream, according to the witch, was a memory of her childhood. Beyond some foggy details, the witch herself didn¡¯t know what exactly the berserker dreamed of. Whatever it was, it seemed to have affected the berserker greatly. Lilith wasn¡¯t lively as before. She sat with her knees to her chest, her eyes tired as she stared at the ground. It was a look that made James oddly sympathize with her.

    ¡°Alright,¡± James sighed. ¡°The necromancer. Where is he?¡± He turned to the witch, who sighed.

    ¡°The captain¡¯s quarters. At least what used to be it. It¡¯s the lowest point of the ship, accessed by a secret hallway,¡± the witch explained. ¡°He¡¯s expecting you.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± James stood up from his crate. He checked through his satchel and belt, making sure he still had his gear intact. ¡°I can already expect undead slumbering towards me.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s much more powerful than you think. If he wanted you dead, he would¡¯ve killed you off earlier,¡± the witch warned.

    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t he?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s because he wants to study you. He knows what you are, what magic you harbor, and he wants it for himself.¡±

    James stopped mid way through checking his potions. He looked at the spellcaster. ¡°So he wants my body?¡±

    ¡°He wants to study you. Not just your body. He wants to observe the magic you and that spirit hold,¡± the witch explained.

    James swallowed. ¡°How do you suggest we approach him?¡±

    ¡°There is no right way. You either compromise or die fighting him,¡± the woman laughed. ¡°He will get what he wants, no matter what.¡±

    ¡®Bitch,¡¯ Faust suddenly spoke. ¡®That¡¯s why she¡¯s so carefree, despite surrendering. She knows that there¡¯s no way we can win.¡¯

    The spirit¡¯s anger seeped into James¡¯ emotions, making the blond man himself pissed off. He clenched his fists, doing his best to hold the anger off.

    ¡°There has to be a way to beat him, right?¡± Seamus suddenly butted in. ¡°A weakness of some sorts?¡±

    ¡°There is no weakness,¡± the witch denied. ¡°He is smart, cunning, and always a step ahead. There is no way any of you can win.¡±

    Harald suddenly stood up, scowling. ¡°You cannot be serious. Every man has a weakness.¡±

    ¡°He is no ordinary man. This is someone who has defied death and the laws of nature. He has exploited magic to a degree that is borderline heretical to even Myr,¡± the witch explained. ¡°There is no way any of you can beat him. If the Thieves Guild themselves can¡¯t even touch him, what chance do you have?¡±

    Harald and Seamus moved to argue, but were interrupted by a simple set of words spoken out by James.

    ¡°She¡¯s probably right. There¡¯s a good chance we won¡¯t be able to beat him.¡±

    Both of his friends stopped in their tracks. James turned to them, a look of grim acceptance on his expression. ¡°So we¡¯ll do what we can. We¡¯ll give him what he wants.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°James, is this really a good idea?¡± Seamus protested.

    James looked back at the nervous young man, whose hand fidgeted with the handle on his sword.

    ¡°It¡¯s the only good one I have,¡± he sighed. ¡°If there was a better way of doing things, I would have already tried it.¡± He regretted resorting to playing into the necromancer¡¯s games, but this was the only way forward.

    They were all nearing the bottom of this improvised building, the quarters ahead being the last step towards their target. The witch was leading the way, but James kept close. He made sure she wouldn¡¯t pull any tricks.

    ¡°Right through that door is the lab. If I¡¯m a betting person, I¡¯d say he¡¯s already set up undead to attack you.¡±

    ¡°What? I thought he wanted me alive?¡± James looked at the witch in bewilderment.

    ¡°He does. He just wants to test your strength. Malik likes to test things to their breaking limit,¡± she revealed.

    ¡°This is a mistake,¡± Harald muttered, breaking his long silence. ¡°Can¡¯t you see James? This is all a bluff to make you think this necromancer is powerful.¡± The veteran¡¯s comment struck a nerve in the witch as she turned to him in anger.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t a bluff! You think I work with that psychopath for his personality? Take a moment to think about your situation. The Thieves Guild sent you here to die! I¡¯m sure they omitted the fact that they had lost countless men trying to take down the man in that room!¡± She pointed at the door. ¡°Markov played you all for fools! He knew the risks and sent you here, regardless. The only reason my boss left you alive was to study your friend here. If he wasn¡¯t so interested, he would¡¯ve killed you all off much sooner.¡±

    The witch¡¯s words hung in the air, shutting Harald up.

    James sighed. ¡°You think he¡¯ll let us live? Your boss?¡±

    ¡°It depends. If he¡¯s in a good mood and likes what he sees, he might. If you piss him off and waste his time, it won¡¯t end well for any of us,¡± the young woman muttered.

    ¡°Of course,¡± James murmured as he looked at the door once more. He took a couple more deep breaths, mentally preparing himself. He took a step forward and opened the door.

    The room before him was lit with numerous sources of light. Some of it came from lanterns that hung around the ceiling, while others emanated from the bottles of mysterious liquids that were sorted on nearby shelves. It was much roomier than James had expected, the open area was comparatively bigger than most rooms in this ship.

    The tables and shelves were all pushed to the edges of the room, leaving an open space on the floor. James recognized this format as the same one Dahlia used for her hut back when he had first met her. Sure enough, once examining the floor, he saw a carved runic circle, its layout bigger than the one back in the shaman¡¯s home.

    Across from the room, on the other side of the circle, sat a man in dark robes. The first thing James noticed was his hair. It was blond, but not like James¡¯ hair. The color bordered on white, any semblance of vibrancy nearly gone. It was also blasted back, as if he had been hit with high winds. The necromancer¡¯s eyes were a piercing black, his gaze uncomfortably set upon James. His clean-shaven face was marked with faint black lines that ran across his cheek, which made his gaunt look pop out.

    ¡°You must be James!¡± He greeted with a wave.

    His tone was unexpected. He sounded excited, like a child giddy at the thought of a new toy.

    ¡°You are the necromancer?¡± James asked as he awkwardly waved back.

    ¡°No need to get formal. Call me Malik,¡± the robed man introduced himself with a grand gesture. ¡°I have been eagerly waiting for you, watching your every move.¡± Malik stood from his desk. ¡°But I¡¯m sure you know that already, since Lydia herself has outed me for the eccentric man that I am.¡± The necromancer grinned.

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± James wasn¡¯t sure what to make of this.

    ¡°She gave you quite the challenge, didn¡¯t she? Dream weaving, what a complicated mess that is. Yet you broke out! Well, you and that friend of yours. The younger man, he is one case study I like to get to another time¡­¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­¡±

    ¡°Anyway!¡± Malik clapped his hands. ¡°You are here to finally ¡®beat¡¯ me! To free your friends in the Thieves Guild and to, of course, move on with your life. But I cannot let you leave. Not yet.¡±

    James stepped forward. ¡°What is it you want from me?¡±

    ¡°Lots of things. In fact, I want everything about you!¡± Malik stepped closer to James, his hands clasped together. ¡°I so badly want to dissect your ley lines, to explore that interesting mind of yours!¡± The blond man noted how Malik circled around the runic carving in the center, his feet shimmying around it.

    ¡°But first, I must see if you truly are a specimen worthy of studying,¡± the necromancer muttered, his tone of excitement faltering.

    ¡°Wait, what? The hell are you saying?¡± Just as James protested, Malik had already snapped his fingers.

    ¡®Look out!¡¯ Faust¡¯s warning caught James off guard, causing the blond man to react too late.

    A brutish figure came in from the darkness, seemingly out of nowhere. It kicked James back, sending him stumbling back into the center of the room. Before he could even process what was happening, Malik had already spoken the words,

    ¡°Rune Circle: Encase.¡±

    The circle beneath James lit up with magical power, lighting up the room in its glow. A large dome encased the blond man in the circle. He could see how his friends rushed in through the doors, desperate to help. Yet they wouldn¡¯t be able to.

    ¡°Shadow Bind,¡± Malik chanted out. Black tongues of wispy fog crawled out of the ground below the two men and the berserker, binding them against their wills.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± James moved to get up, but his passage was blocked by the bulky figure that had attacked him in the first place. He blinked as he stared at the undead creature that lumbered before him. Its skin was shriveled and black, yet it wasn¡¯t covered in crystals like the abominations of before. It was a proper undead, summoned by the necromancers and warlocks of this world. The thing¡¯s eyes were lit up with the magic that kept it up, its green glow enough to showcase the outline of its skull.

    ¡°Consider this as a test. If you win, I shall spare your friends! Lose and¡­ well, let¡¯s just say that I¡¯m low on bodies to use as summons,¡± Malik called out.

    James didn¡¯t respond to the necromancer. He could only stare at the draugr before him, its lumbering form breathing heavily.

    James recalled what Dahlia had told him about them. Draugr were common undead, often lumped in with common zombies and skeletons. Yet they had one distinguishable feature that set them apart. Draugrs were past warriors, the small remnants of their spirits still holding onto their battle instincts.

    James quickly backed away, just in time to avoid a strike that would¡¯ve proved fatal. Zombies and skeletons followed basic combat, if at all. From what James knew, those undead didn¡¯t have an ounce of intelligence behind them. This undead before him, however, remembered how to fight.

    The draugr roared as it rushed James, its hands clenched up in fists. James quickly dodged once more, his hand moving to grab at his sword. In one fell swipe, he had both unsheathed it and slashed at the undead¡¯s stomach.

    No effect. Despite a long gash in its guts, the draugr seemed unaffected.

    ¡°Shit.¡± James backed away slowly. He held his sword in both hands, his mind running through options. The draugr didn¡¯t give him a chance to think. It lunged at James with battle lust, its fists aiming to deal direct blows at the blond man¡¯s head. James dodged the attacks once more, dropping low to avoid them. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t account for kicks. The draugr¡¯s foot came up as quickly as he had dropped, the force of its impact sending James rolling across the floor.

    For a second, James couldn¡¯t breathe right. He was taking quick breaths, his lungs feeling as if something heavy was pressing against them. Soon enough, however, he got it under control.

    ¡®Any tips?¡¯ He asked Faust in desperation.

    ¡®I¡­ I don¡¯t know. That thing is smart. It¡¯s durable, and it has a strength advantage. I would suggest doing a mind clash, but¡­ I don¡¯t think that thing has a sensible mind to begin with.¡¯

    James spat onto the floor, his hand clenching his short sword. ¡°Mind clash, it is then. It¡¯s our only chance,¡± he muttered.

    ¡®It has no mind¡­¡¯

    ¡°It¡¯s a draugr. Draugrs have their battle instincts left over from their previous lives.¡± James reminded Faust.

    ¡®Yes, but those are instincts, James. Not their conscious or spirit.¡¯

    ¡°Well, it has to be worth a shot. I don¡¯t see any other way of taking it down with our current situation.¡± James could feel his Carapace spell take its toll on his body, his own breath now visible in puffs of steam.

    James stood back up, his left hand pulling his cloak off to reveal his partial gambeson that was fitted under chainmail. He was going to overheat if he had that on any longer.

    Now free of his wool cape, James took a deep breath. He readied himself for his fight against the draugr, hoping to all the gods above that he wouldn¡¯t straight up die. Once he had his breathing under control, James focused ahead and ran.

    He rushed the draugr, who raised both arms to defend itself. James clicked his tongue in frustration, but kept going. By the time had reached his target, the draugr had already covered his vital head, making sure that the blond man couldn¡¯t strike at it. James didn¡¯t care. Using all his strength, he swung at its arm. His blade only made it halfway before it hit bone, causing the draugr to roar in anger. It moved to grab James, but he had already backed away, leaving his sword stuck inside the undead¡¯s flesh. James pulled out his hand ax from his belt before he rushed the draugr once again.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    James leaped at the undead creature, ready to strike. His ax made a thwacking sound as it stuck to the draugr¡¯s left eye, sending specks of black blood everywhere. While holding on, he grabbed at the draugr¡¯s head, focusing everything into the upcoming clash.

    Nothing.

    James blinked. He focused his will, doing his best to force himself into the thing¡¯s mind. Nothing. James felt panic dawning on him, his heart beating fast as he strained to pull his ax out. Before he could fully escape, the draugr grabbed James with both arms. It held him in a tight hug, its strength slowly crushing the man.

    ¡°Agh! Fuck!¡± James gritted his teeth as he raised his ax. He hacked at the thing¡¯s head once more, hoping to actually kill it before it fully crushed his organs and ribs. It didn¡¯t seem to let up, its hold tightening even more as James feebly hacked at its skull.

    ¡°Dammit! No¡­!¡± James couldn¡¯t breathe, his lungs slowly losing the ability to expand.

    ¡®James! You have to break out!¡¯

    ¡®I¡¯m trying! Nothing is working!¡¯

    James kicked and punched, doing everything in his power to get the draugr to loosen its hold. Nothing worked. It got to where blood had made itself present in James¡¯ mouth, the taste of copper overwhelming. By then, a horrifying thought dawned on him. He was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it.

    ¡°Shame,¡± Malik sighed. ¡°I thought there might have been more to you.¡±

    James couldn¡¯t process the words the necromancer had spoken, his mind slowly going blank as pain overwhelmed him. His vision was slowly becoming obscured, his breathing becoming painful as he tried to hold on.

    ¡®This¡­ This is how I die?¡¯ James thought to himself. He couldn¡¯t even hear Faust¡¯s words as the spirit screamed at him. Was this how his journey ended? James knew he would not live long in this world, but was his end really going to be over this? Over a bunch of thieves who had sent him to die?

    James gritted his teeth.

    ¡®No¡­ Not like this!¡¯

    He could feel how his rage seethed into his thoughts, his jaw clenching with such force that it sent sharp pains.

    ¡®I¡¯m going out on my own terms! Not on some fucking errand for a thief!¡¯

    James could feel his vigor return slowly, his anger breathing new life into him. The blood in his mouth was now sickeningly sweet, its metallic tinge welcoming to James.

    The blond man grabbed at the draugr that was crushing him, his eyes burning with such a rage that it actually stunned the undead. James stared into the creature¡¯s eyes, his bandaged hand gripping onto its head with summoned strength.

    ¡°Release me!¡± He commanded, his seething anger adding power to his words. The draugr stared at James with shock, its arms suddenly releasing the clan leader from its grasp.

    James landed on the floor unceremoniously, his breathing heavy as he tried to get it under control. His body felt like shit, the pain nigh unbearable. James gritted his teeth as he grabbed at a small health potion in his satchel. It was much smaller and cheaper than the real thing, only a quarter the size of a regular vial. James had kept it hidden deep in his satchel for emergencies.

    James ripped its wax seal off before he downed it in one go. His body slowly felt its effects soon after, his compressed organs slowly beginning to go back to normal. If he lived through this, he would need to buy a bigger vial.

    Slowly, James stood back, his hand clenching tightly to his ax. He looked up at the draugr before him, which stared at the blond man. James soon realized that the thing was afraid of him. At least, that¡¯s what its glowing eyes seem to tell. Now that he looked at the undead, the clan leader noticed how the green glow behind its eyes was now a shade of blue, mimicking James¡¯ own eyes.

    The undead took a step back from James, its free hand moving to pull the sword out of its arm. It clanged on the floor, black blood staining it. James stared at the draugr in confusion.

    ¡®It¡¯s not attacking anymore. Did my plan work?¡¯

    He genuinely wondered if his mind clash worked, as the thing before him was no longer hostile.

    ¡®I¡­ I think so? I feel disoriented. Everything hurts.¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice sounded just as how the blond man felt. Shitty.

    James swallowed. He took a step towards the draugr, locking eyes with it once more.

    ¡°Kneel,¡± he commanded. The draugr stared at James blankly, unaffected by his words. James furrowed his brow before he focused his will once more.

    ¡®Faust, lend me your strength for a bit.¡¯

    He took a deep breath this time, his eyes burning with magic like before.

    ¡°Kneel,¡± James commanded, his voice echoing in the room.

    The draugr physically recoiled from the command, now moving to follow James¡¯ word. It knelt before him, hiding its gaze from the clan leader.

    ¡°By the abyss, you¡¯ve done it!¡± Malik shouted out in surprise. James looked at the necromancer, who was excitedly watching from the sidelines. ¡°Such power in you¡­ I must learn more!¡± The crazed man formed his fingers into a rune that was familiar to James.

    ¡°Dispel!¡±

    The rune circle beneath their feet suddenly died out, its magic quickly fading as the Dispel rune did its job.

    Malik rushed over to James, but was stopped when the blond man raised a bloodied sword at him.

    ¡°Stay back,¡± James threatened. ¡°I did your little test. Now allow me and my friends safe passage out of here!¡± Despite his raised weapon, Malik didn¡¯t seem all too bothered.

    The necromancer crossed his arms. ¡°You won. Greatly so.¡± Malik gestured to the kneeling draugr. ¡°Control of the undead is not a common skill. However, I only said your friends can go free.¡± He snapped his fingers as to punctuate his words. The shadow fog that held Harald, Seamus, and Lilith suddenly dissipated, letting the three hit the floor.

    ¡°You, on the other hand, shall be my little experiment,¡± Malik explained.

    ¡°Wait, what?¡± James blinked.

    ¡°Did you expect me to study you alive as you were? Well, you¡¯re half right. I¡¯m going to take you apart and study whatever makes you tick!¡± The necromancer sounded giddy with delight. James felt sick to his stomach that such a man like this could be so twisted. ¡°I mean, can you really blame me? You are a specimen truly worthy of dissecting! The many types of magic I can sense from here are making me excited to figure out your ley lines!¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± James raised a hand to the necromancer. He rapidly tried to think of anything to say. Anything that can save him from getting picked apart on an operating table. Malik was a goddamn psychopath, ready to gut James open and examine his insides at a moment¡¯s notice.

    ¡°You can¡¯t dissect me¡­ uh¡­ I uh¡­¡± He was stalling now, his inner thoughts going insane over what to say.

    ¡®Think of something!¡¯ He shouted to Faust.

    ¡®What is there to say?! Even if we tell him how we ended up like this, he¡¯ll still be wanting to take us apart!¡¯

    James cursed mentally, his hands clenching into tight fists.

    Then, an idea came across him.

    ¡°You¡¯ll disrupt it!¡± he suddenly shouted to Malik.

    The necromancer raised an eyebrow. ¡°Disrupt what?¡±

    ¡°The bond between me and my spirit,¡± James started. ¡°Our situation was created months back, around the last Frost solstice. I was dying, and a shaman forced a spirit into my corpse.¡± James raised a hand to his chest. ¡°It healed my initial wound, but it left my body home to two minds. A month after this incident, we fought against a knight. In a desperate bid, we overloaded his ley lines, killing him,¡± he explained. ¡°That moment had consequences. It gave me this arm that was inflicted with basic cryomancy.¡± James showed his bandaged hand. ¡°The act strained our ley lines to its limits, weakening our bond. As a result, my body is now on a deadline.¡±

    ¡°Deadline?¡±

    ¡°In three months, my bond with the other spirit will be gone, reopening my wound and killing me,¡± James revealed. Malik stared at James with surprise, his gaze lowering. There was a moment of silence, the only sound being that of the rest of the blonde man¡¯s party catching their breaths.

    ¡°You¡¯re not lying,¡± Malik muttered, his focus moving back up to James¡¯ face. ¡°Your heart has a scar on it, nearly impossible to heal without a cleric. Your ley lines seem at conflict too, they¡¯re flickering. No lie.¡±

    ¡®He can see my organs?!¡¯ James mentally cursed.

    ¡°You can¡¯t dissect me. You can¡¯t kill me. It¡¯ll disrupt the already weakened bond in my body. You¡¯ll lose what you¡¯re looking for,¡± James reiterated.

    Malik nodded slowly, his hand moving to rub at his chin. ¡°Yes, but your body will still have remnants of the magic that it held. Even dead, you¡¯ll still be useful.¡±

    James felt a cold shiver run down his spine. ¡°But you need to study me while I¡¯m alive, right?¡± He pressed.

    Malik¡¯s expression narrowed. ¡°Yes¡­¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll do whatever tests you need me to do. Trials, situations, anything you think can allow you to study me,¡± James offered.

    Malik frowned. ¡°That will be redundant. The test I gave you earlier was to see how you would perform under pressure. If I would try to fabricate it again, it might dull the result since you would expect it,¡± Malik groaned. He slowly rotated his head around his shoulders, muttering incoherently to himself.

    Before long, he finally stopped. ¡°Ah! I have it.¡± The necromancer grinned. ¡°How¡¯s this? I will accompany you everywhere you go.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I will watch and study you closely out there. Life itself is unpredictable, so imagine the scenarios that can happen!¡± Malik shouted with glee. ¡°I shall see how you evolve out there, how you react and deal with situations. Not just that, but judging from your worn out gear, you must come across exciting scenarios all the time!¡± The necromancer was getting giddy with excitement once more, his hands making grand gestures. ¡°The bodies that will fall in your wake. Gods imagine the souls I¡¯ll take! Oh, it will be fun!¡±

    James couldn¡¯t help but stare at the necromancer. This was the last thing he had expected. It was also the last thing he wanted. Having someone as twisted as him in his party? James didn¡¯t want to imagine the dark arts this man would commit on the field.

    ¡°Malik, I really don¡¯t want to intrude on your excitement but¡ª¡±

    ¡°That is the stupidest idea I¡¯ve ever heard!¡± a female voice sounded out. James and Malik turned to the witch, who had been watching from the entrance this entire time.

    ¡°You are one of the smartest spellcasters I¡¯ve ever met and yet you are throwing away your studies and projects to travel with him?!¡± The witch gestured to James, who was a mess of sweat and blood. ¡°He can perform certain types of magic early and that¡¯s got you excited enough to leave everything behind?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just that, Lydia! He is more than that! You can¡¯t see it, but James is everything I¡¯ve been working hard for. He is the next step in my pursuit. I know it!¡± Malik exclaimed.

    James watched as the two argued and shouted over each other. He thought about what Malik wanted. James couldn¡¯t really deny the necromancer¡¯s request. He had seen firsthand what kind of power he held, and it would not be a smart move to tell the twisted man off. James brainstormed for a few seconds, focusing on what he should do.

    ¡®I have an idea,¡¯ Faust muttered.

    James raised an eyebrow at the spirit¡¯s words. ¡®Tell me.¡¯

    After some consulting and compromising with the spirit, James and Faust came up with an idea. He looked at Malik, who finally managed to get the witch off his back.

    ¡°So, will you take me along?¡± The necromancer asked.

    ¡®He makes it sound like I have a choice¡­¡¯

    ¡°You can come along. As long as you accept my conditions,¡± James said slowly.

    ¡°Conditions?¡± Malik tilted his head.

    ¡°Yes. I have conditions, especially when it comes to fighting.¡± James raised a bandaged finger. ¡°First one. No killing unless it is absolutely necessary.¡±

    ¡°What counts as absolutely necessary?¡±

    ¡°Necessary in the sense that you don¡¯t kill unless your or an ally¡¯s life is on the line,¡± James explained.

    Malik sighed in frustration but nodded. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll agree with that.¡±

    James raised another finger. ¡°Second. You will not simply stand by if me or my people are attacked. You will defend them.¡±

    ¡°A pointless condition, but fine.¡± The necromancer waved it off.

    ¡°Third. You will not defile any bodies or use them as fodder for your magic.¡±

    ¡°That is unreasonable!¡± Malik shouted suddenly. That seemed to do it for him. His calm demeanor from before had shattered immediately, his arms now flailing as if he was a toddler being denied candy. ¡°How can you expect me to fight if I cannot have access to bodies! I am a necromancer for Dremor¡¯s sake!¡±

    James sighed at Malik¡¯s outburst. He grinded his teeth in frustration before he muttered, ¡°Fine. You can use the bodies of any non-humanoids we kill.¡±

    Malik narrowed his gaze. ¡°You cannot be serious. I get the bodies of every dead man we encountered,¡± he bartered.

    ¡°The bodies of non-humanoids, including orcs and goblins.¡± James couldn¡¯t help but feel a tinge of disgust at this conversation. They were now arguing over what bodies were acceptable to defile.

    ¡°Every humanoid we kill,¡± Malik argued once more.

    James furrowed his brow. ¡°You can have the bodies of the enemies we kill. Nothing more. Nothing less. You cannot kill an enemy just for their body. You will not defile the corpses of allies or non-combatants. This is where I draw my line.¡± He felt sick to his stomach at the prospect of Malik tarnishing bodies, but he couldn¡¯t settle for less. The last thing James wanted was another fight with an advanced spellcaster.

    ¡°Rules of engagement I see. Fine. I shall only use the bodies of our enemies. I will spare the ones of your allies and others. But¡­¡± Malik raised a finger. ¡°When you eventually die. I shall have your body.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Your body. Once you are dead, I can do what I want with it.¡± The necromancer was serious, his tone no longer excited. ¡°I will agree to every other term you may have for me. I will follow your orders as long as they don¡¯t interfere with my core beliefs and our agreements. I will do everything in my power to keep you and your allies safe. All I ask of you is that you allow me to take your body in the event you die or are killed in battle.¡±

    James could only stare at Malik, who patiently waited for an answer. There was a long silence, with the blond man thinking over his choices. Finally, he responded, ¡°Do you swear to uphold your part of the bargain?¡±

    ¡°I will and I can make it so that it is bound by blood,¡± Malik responded.

    ¡°Bound with blood?¡±

    ¡°A pact if you will.¡± The necromancer held out his hand to James. Without warning, he stabbed at his palm with a knife. The act made the blond man flinch, his thoughts going manic.

    ¡®What the fuck?!¡¯

    Dark blood oozed out of Malik¡¯s hand, dripping onto the floor below. The necromancer showed no sign of pain as he chanted a couple of choice words out, their pronunciation entirely foreign to James. In an instant, a purple rune appeared above the necromancer¡¯s bleeding palm, its glow illuminating both men.

    ¡°Stab your hand and shake mine. Then repeat your terms to me and I will repeat mine to you. Once we both accept, the pact will be solidified.¡±

    ¡°Pact?¡±

    ¡°Our words will be bound to magic. If any of us even try to violate the other¡¯s terms, they meet a painful force that holds them back. It is powerful magic, only undone when both parties want out of it.¡±

    James stared at the purple rune. ¡°Are you sure it¡¯ll work?¡±

    ¡°I am positive. It¡¯s the same one I used on Lydia,¡± Malik grinned as he raised his free hand, revealing a burnt scar on it. ¡°It is fool proof and we both get what we want. I get to have your body and you get to have a powerful necromancer on your side.¡±

    James considered saying no. It was all too bizarre. Too shady. Yet, if Malik was true to his word, he would have no choice but to protect James and his friends, regardless of how he felt. The pact would force him to do so. Still, he was giving his body up to the necromancer. That didn¡¯t sit right with him.

    ¡®I won¡¯t stop you James, no matter what you choose. It¡¯s a choice you must make on your own,¡¯ Faust muttered, ruling himself out of the decision making.

    James clenched his jaw. ¡®Is my body really more important than my friends?¡¯

    He thought back to Yorktown and the allies he still had. Hell, he still had the mercenaries and Dimitri waiting back at the guild for him. The people he cared for were worth more than a body he was going to lose regardless.

    James looked at Malik straight in the eye. He switched his ax to his left, before using it to cut open his right palm. James winced as he did so, the cold bite of the ax¡¯s edge producing a line of blood that slowly dripped down his fingers.

    ¡°My terms. No negotiations. You get your bodies, including my own, but you are sworn to follow me and protect my friends and my people.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡± Malik grinned as James clasped at his bleeding hand. ¡°Now, do what I do.¡±

    Malik raised his free hand, forming a rune with his thumb and middle fingers. ¡°I, Malik Ymir, swear to uphold your terms and wishes.¡±

    James followed the necromancer¡¯s lead, his bandaged hand forming the same rune opposite of Malik¡¯s. ¡°I, James Holter, swear to uphold our terms and pact.¡±

    Once those words left his lips, a shock overcame James. His body shivered as purple flames appeared on his and Malik¡¯s hands. It engulfed their handshake for a moment before snuffing out as quickly as it had appeared. James winced as he felt something burn at his cut palm, the pain nearly unbearable. Malik seemed to have experienced this, as he clenched his jaw tightly. Yet, while James was gritting his teeth in pain, the necromancer was laughing maniacally. He was obviously in grueling pain, his laughs strained as he grinned ferociously.

    Both of their hands would finally be separated after what seemed like forever, with James stumbling back in pain. He looked at his palm, which displayed his cauterized wound. Upon inspecting, however, James could swear he saw the outline of a runic symbol traced upon his palm.

    ¡°The pact is made, James Holter,¡± Malik called out, his voice as joyous as ever. ¡°What would you have your necromancer do?¡±

    James looked to the man before him, who seemed to be in a different light. For a moment, he could see the way the necromancer saw himself. A man of magical wonder, his eyes glinting with possibility and maniacal intentions. Malik was a man of discovery, willing to do anything to learn more and to unlock secrets previously buried.

    The young clan leader stood up straight, his gaze moving to his friends. They all stared at him in surprise and shock, their faces painted with mixed emotions. It was as if they were looking at someone else, despite James being in their focus. He ignored their looks, his focus going back to the matter at hand.

    ¡°There is one thing left to do now, Malik. That is to pay the Thieves Guild a little visit.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 20: Undead Eyes

    Markov flipped the gold piece once more, his eyes watching the coin as it flew through the air. Once it had landed back on his palm, he quickly moved to slap it on the table.

    ¡°Call it,¡± he spoke to the dwarf before him.

    Bjorn looked nervous, his only eye looking at the thief¡¯s hand. ¡°King,¡± he muttered in a whisper.

    Markov grinned as he raised his hand off the table. The gold piece showcased the dwarf¡¯s worst fear. The form of an imprinted phoenix.

    ¡°Damn!¡± Archibald cursed from Bjorn¡¯s side.

    ¡°Drink up!¡± One thief at Markov¡¯s side shouted.

    Both the elf and dwarf formed an unpleasant grimace, their hands grabbing at the newly poured shots before them. They both took a deep breath before they downed the vile liquid. Skavdka was a drink more vile than the grog those navy royals had to stomach. It was a cheap drink made from the creative creatures known as the orcs. Very few places had it, since orcs were already a rarity in cities, and the ones that had it rarely ever got to sell it. The drink was disgusting and was only drunk by either desperate hobos looking for a buzz or a group of arses that wanted to play a cruel game with it. Markov and his men were the latter.

    Bjorn managed to drink his in one go, his finger pinching his nose as he stomached the shot of skavdka. Archibald wasn¡¯t so lucky. The elf only lasted a half second before he retched. The drink went spilling onto the floor and the thieves around Markov laughed at the unfortunate bloke.

    ¡°Drink!¡± another shouted. The shot Archibald had was quickly refilled, as he did not finish the drink.

    ¡°Are you serious?! Isn¡¯t putting it in my mouth enough?¡± the elf complained.

    ¡°No!¡±

    The men all shouted in unison, including Bjorn himself. The elf groaned and looked at his shot in misery. He downed it once more, his eyes shutting tightly as he forced it down into his gut. Everyone leaned in, their gazes focused on the elf as he swallowed. Finally, he opened his mouth, showing that he did, in fact, drink it. The entire room cheered, congratulating Archibald and Bjorn on stomaching it. Markov chuckled as he drank his honeyed mead.

    Thankfully, he didn¡¯t have yet to drink that disgusting skavdka. This was his fifth time winning, all thanks to his lucky two sided coin. He had used his sleight of hand to keep both trick coins hidden in his sleeves, using his foresight skill to guess which side those two were going to pick before they even chose.

    It was nice to see the two men before him having fun, despite losing to Markov constantly in every drinking game they proposed. The one thing they obviously didn¡¯t learn was that the master thief was a deceiver above all else, making it folly to win a game against him. As Markov sipped at his mead, a voice called out to him, interrupting the commotion of drunks.

    ¡°Markov! Sir!¡±

    That was Johan. Why was he panicked? Markov turned to the sound of the young man¡¯s voice. He moved to get up, his hand leaving the mug of mead behind.

    ¡°Johan? What is it?¡±

    ¡°Sir! It¡¯s Holter!¡± The thief shouted. Markov raised an eyebrow as he left the room he was in, his feet stepping out into the main meeting room where Johan had stumbled into. Did James defeat the necromancer? Was that why Johan was so excited?

    ¡®No, he¡¯s not excited, he¡¯s scared.¡¯

    Markov furrowed his brow. ¡°Is Holter dead? Did Malik catch on to our intentions?¡±

    ¡°No sir! It¡¯s worse¡­¡± Johan was breathing hard, his face red with exertion.

    ¡°What do you mean, worse?¡±

    ¡°They¡ª¡±

    The sound of something breaking cut the young man off. It was loud enough to draw out some of Markov¡¯s men from the room nearby, their daggers drawn as they looked for the source.

    Down at the bottom floor, below the balcony, the door had been forced open. Markov felt his hand grab at his dagger, ready to take on anything that rushed from the shadows of its doorway. At first, there was silence. Everyone held their breath, their blades at the ready.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do that if I were you,¡± a voice called out from the shadows.

    Markov watched as three of his men were suddenly thrown into the meeting room, their bodies bound by a magical mist. Two figures walked in after them, their faces obscured by darkness. Once they got to the light, however, Markov¡¯s surprise turned to shock.

    James Holter stood there, with none other than Malik Ymir, the necromancer that had caused so many problems for the thieves guild. Both men were side by side, their expressions opposites.

    James had a sincere look, his right hand wielding a short sword as his left carried a rusted shield. His eyes burned with that blue glow from before. It looked unnerving to Markov how that young man¡¯s skull was visible behind those eyes.

    On the other end of the spectrum, Malik was grinning, his fingers forming purple runes that dripped with necromancy magic. The necromancer¡¯s magic extended into a black mist, the same one that was binding the men.

    ¡°This¡­ This was unexpected, to say the least,¡± Markov muttered.

    ¡°Markov! Good to see you, friend! How¡¯s that scar treating you?¡± Malik greeted joyously.

    The master thief couldn¡¯t help but clench his jaw tight, his cheek scar tingling with remembrance. ¡°James Holter. What is the meaning of this?! You were supposed to kill Malik! Not join him on his wild antics!¡±

    Markov turned to the blond man, his hand gesturing to the room behind him. ¡°I have your friends captive. Do not forget!¡±

    ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t forget,¡± James responded. He stepped up to the center of the room, the blue glow in his eyes dimming slowly. ¡°I didn¡¯t join Malik,¡± he stated.

    Markov blinked. ¡°Yet here you are, standing next to him!¡±

    ¡°Again, I didn¡¯t join him. He joined me.¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± The master thief was stunned.

    ¡°It¡¯s true!¡± Malik called out. ¡°He¡¯s the reason these guys of yours are still breathing.¡± The necromancer raised a hand before snapping his fingers. The spell that held Markov¡¯s men suddenly dissipated, dropping the thieves to the ground. The men groaned and rolled around, obviously still alive.

    ¡°You never said I was supposed to kill Malik. Only that I was supposed to stop him from killing your guys,¡± James called out. ¡°So I stopped him. By making him my follower.¡±

    Markov could only stare at the unlikely duo, his thoughts trying to make sense of it all.

    ¡°It¡¯s time to uphold your end of the deal, Markov,¡± James snapped the thief out of his stupor.

    ¡®That little¡­¡¯

    Markov gritted his teeth in anger at first, his hand gripping onto the railing with force. But soon, his angry thoughts suddenly faded. Before he knew it, a smile formed on his lips. The master thief couldn¡¯t help but chuckle.

    ¡°You truly are something special.¡± Markov shook his head. ¡°James Holter, a man of surprises! I should¡¯ve seen it at the beginning.¡±

    Markov waved his hand at the men by his side. ¡°Free the two mercenaries,¡± he ordered. His men looked at Markov in disbelief, but they said nothing as they moved to carry out his wishes.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    ¡°No hard feelings?¡± James called out to Markov.

    The master thief chuckled. ¡°If I¡¯m being honest, no man has ever made me so angry. Any ordinary man would¡¯ve gotten his balls fed to him. But I will admit, there is no use of antagonizing you,¡± Markov leaned into the railing. ¡°You have impressed me, James. Whether it is stupidity or promise, there is something in you I can respect. For now, we shall be allies. No more hard feelings.¡±

    James blinked in surprise, his eyebrow raising. ¡°Alright, allies sound good.¡±

    Markov¡¯s smile faded. ¡°But do not get carried away with this privilege, Holter. Let it be known that if you pull another act like this, it will not be forgiven. All the shadows of Vindis shall be turned against you. Do you understand?¡±

    ¡°Understood¡­¡± James responded, his eyes glinting with magical energy once more. Markov and James had continued to stare each other down, until Archibald and Bjorn were returned to the blond man.

    Both the dwarf and the elf seemed bewildered, their gazes moving between Markov and James. Bjorn, however, seemed to have changed his reaction rather quickly.

    ¡°You crazy bastard! I knew you could do it!¡± The dwarf turned to the thieves above the balcony, his hand waving towards them. ¡°This is the man I follow! James Holter! Don¡¯t forget his name, you dungheads!¡± Bjorn was yelling out his affiliations with gleaming pride, his hand clapping at the painted white raven on his chest.

    James¡¯ stoic expression had turned to second hand embarrassment, his cheeks red with shame as he dragged the dwarf away. Archibald was suffering from the same effect as well, since the elf was covering his face in humiliation.

    Markov watched in amusement as the four men left in their hurry, leaving a room full of confused thieves. There was an awkward silence permeating the holdout once they left, the men in the room looking at each other in confusion. One man spoke up to break it.

    ¡°Markov, what was that?¡± One asked. His initial question was then followed by hundreds of other inquiries, all of them about what the hel had just happened.

    ¡°Was that the necromancer?¡±

    ¡°Why did you let them leave?!¡±

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    Markov raised a hand to shut them all up. The room quieted down almost immediately, everyone¡¯s breath now held.

    ¡°One at a time,¡± Markov stated. He pointed to the first thief, a young man whose clothes showed he worked in the valdora district. The picked man blinked and stuttered his question out.

    ¡°M-Markov, just who are we dealing with? That was no man¡­¡±

    The master thief smiled at the question, his arms crossing. ¡°You¡¯re right to assume he¡¯s no ordinary man. It seems as if we are dealing with the most recent myth of the south.¡±

    ¡°Myth?¡±

    ¡°James Holter, it seems, is none other than the Draugr himself.¡±

    <hr>

    The flames that burned Buravon to the ground were still lit, their heat almost unbearable to Gwenyth and her allies. The disguised elf stepped carefully through the town¡¯s streets, her eyes peering around the charred buildings.

    ¡°It¡¯s empty,¡± Arthur called out as he stepped out of a blackened house.

    ¡°Same here,¡± William added from his side of the street.

    ¡°There¡¯s no one. Not even a body,¡± Gwenyth muttered. This was getting stranger and stranger.

    ¡°Perhaps they evacuated?¡± William questioned.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope so.¡± Gwenyth peeked her head into a half collapsed tavern.

    The party made their way to the rear of the town, where its walls met with a small forest that was on the island. The last time Gwenyth was here, the forest was dense and big enough to support wildlife. Now it was sparse enough to see through clearly. Tree stumps spotted the grassy ground, which was thankfully untouched by the flames. Barely any tree stood, their branches bare. It seemed like Bloom had not reached this forest as of yet. Gwenyth blinked, her eyes focusing on something strange ahead.

    ¡°What in Delphine¡¯s name¡­¡± Arthur muttered behind her. He, too, saw it.

    William raised an eyebrow at the both of them. ¡°What are you looking at?¡± He questioned.

    ¡°There¡¯s a structure ahead,¡± Gwenyth pointed out. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what it is, but it doesn¡¯t look like anything I¡¯ve seen before.¡± She stepped closer, her eyes squinting as she neared it. Soon enough, her party followed, their footsteps muffled by the tall grass. As they neared the structure, Gwenyth could make out three other figures at its base, their silhouettes resembling people.

    ¡°Wait.¡± Gwenyth stopped suddenly, her eyes focusing ahead.

    On closer inspection, the elf recognized what the structure was. It was an image of a snowflake, made up of branches and blackened wood. Wrapped bundles were placed in front of it, candles lit to illuminate it. Gwenyth looked at the figures ahead, her hand grabbing at her saber. Those figures were doing something, their arms slowly falling towards the snowflake shrine. Realization hit her. They were praying for the structure.

    ¡°What the fuck?¡± William let out, his thoughts coming to the same realization. His involuntary cursing alerted the figures ahead, their heads raising suddenly. Gwenyth unsheathed her saber.

    ¡°Dammit, William!¡± she reprimanded.

    The three figures rushed to the party, their hands carrying axes and bludgeons.

    Gwenyth stepped forward, her focus now on the first one to come at her. Once the attacker came close enough, however, the elf nearly lost her balance. It was not human. The thing looked undead, its body covered in burnt flesh and disgusting crystals. Its skull was half burnt, showcasing bone and raw tendons. Crystals covered its left eye, leaving its right to burn with a blue glow.

    ¡°Tributes to the void! Consume and kill!¡± It shouted out in its ethereal voice. Gwenyth snapped out of her stupor, her jaw clenching as she readied her blade.

    The elf stepped forward to the abomination, ready to strike. She swung at the thing¡¯s head, her blade contacting the crystals that engulfed half its skull. Instead of breaking through, however, her weapon bounced off. The recoil made her and the undead stumble back, their footing off. Gwenyth repositioned her center of gravity, forcing herself to move towards the thing in front of her. She swung again, this time aiming for the abomination¡¯s weapons arm. Hit. Her saber cut clean through, slicing the piece of undead flesh right off. The thing screeched in pain, its lone eye burning with hatred.

    Gwenyth focused on its head once more, this time focusing on its exposed scalp. Her saber flashed quickly and the abomination¡¯s skull split open like a melon. Black blood speckled her, and the scent of rot reached her, but the elf didn¡¯t care. She forced her saber out before striking once more. Second time was the charm.

    Her saber cut clean through its head, the magic in its single eye dying soon after. The elf kicked the body back, panting as she wiped the blood off her blade. She hadn¡¯t fought in such a long time that it was no surprise that her swordplay was rusty. Still, there were bigger things to worry about.

    Arthur and William were still alive, their weapons covered in black blood. Their undead were on the ground, heads destroyed.

    Arthur looked at the elf, his hands wiping the blood off of his face. ¡°Are you alright?¡± He asked.

    Gwenyth stepped up to the man, her hands shakily sheathing her saber. With no warning, she punched him, her fist connecting with his chin. Arthur stumbled back, the sudden strike surprising even William.

    ¡°What the fuck are we hunting?!¡± she shouted out.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Arthur moved to wipe his mouth, which had started to bleed.

    ¡°This is not what I signed up for. The briefing was: we were supposed to hunt simple undead!¡± Gwenyth argued.

    ¡°These are simple undead!¡±

    ¡°Those are not simple undead!¡± The elf exclaimed. She gestured to the bodies. ¡°What are those crystals? Why did they talk?!¡±

    ¡°Those crystals are just anomalies. As for the talking, they¡¯re just dumb zombies. Those undead mumble and say nonsense all the time,¡± Arthur explained.

    Gwenyth could feel her anger grow. ¡°These aren¡¯t dumb zombies.¡± She pointed at the structure behind them. ¡°They were praying to that thing! These things worship something. They called us tributes!¡±

    Arthur was silent at that, his jaw clenching as he stared at the elf.

    ¡°You two, stop bickering!¡± William shouted out, interrupting the tense moment. The elf and former apostle turned to the snowflake structure, where William now stood. The herald was examining the area, his face a deathly pale. ¡°I found them. The villagers.¡±

    Gwenyth turned to where William was looking. Upon taking a few steps, she saw what he was looking at. Her eyes widened at the sight, a pit growing in her stomach as she tried to find her voice. Before her was nothing short of horrible and nauseating.

    Bodies of all sizes and shapes were strung up on branches and makeshift posts, their skin pale and rotted. Their torsos were cut up and opened, the skin stretched out as if to showcase their insides. Yet there was nothing but exposed ribs and spine. Their organs were harvested from the looks of it, the same going for their eyes and mouths. Gwenyth looked back at the snowflake shaped shrine, where there were bundled up items that bleed through their wrappings. She could fathom a guess as to where the organs went.

    Gwenyth had seen many things in her travels and centuries of life, including body effigies crafted by crazed cultists. Yet she never saw it to this extent and certainly not to this level. This was something that outdid even the damned orcs.

    William gagged and stumbled off to vomit. Arthur simply stared at the sight, his expression showcasing surprise and disgust. Gwenyth herself was trying her hardest not to follow William¡¯s reaction. Slowly, bitter anger replaced her disgust and shock. The thing she had been hunting was something beyond her understanding. Its cruelty had no bounds, it seemed, and it targeted everything in its path.

    ¡°Arthur,¡± Gwenyth muttered through clenched teeth.

    ¡°You are going to explain everything. Now.¡±

 Interlude: Pulling Weeds

    Rain poured down the shoddy building like a relentless force, causing streams of water leaking into the interior. Gustus was lucky enough to be in his dry spot in the shack, his eyes focusing on Lars. The berserker was still covered in bruises from his last scuffle with that marauder from earlier. He hadn¡¯t spoken at all since then, whether out of inability or pure spite, Gustus did not know.

    The former convict looked around the interior of his new home. The roof was on the edge of falling in on itself, which resulted in water being regularly poured down on unlucky men. While any reasonable man would move to a dryer spot, these men were not able to. The shack was filled to its limit, every man in there shoulder to shoulder. They crowded in there, unable to move comfortably or even sleep right. The walls shook every now and then, ready to burst from the sheer capacity.

    There was also the stench. Gods, the stench. Gustus much rather preferred to be in his old cell, where it was least limited to only him and Lars. In his old cell, he could at least get a couple of peaceful hours of sleep. Now however, even one minute of peace was a luxury. Constantly, the men would bicker and shout, their voices enough to make the convict go deaf. Gustus tried to count himself lucky, telling himself that at least he wasn¡¯t going to die. At least he wasn¡¯t going to be executed at Norum¡¯s courtyard. Yet he was looking at that alternate life as a luxury. At least then, he would have a decent meal. A decent cot to call his own. A quiet cell he could find peace in. It would be leagues better.

    ¡®At least you¡¯re not dead.¡¯

    That was his only hold on sanity. It was the one thing keeping him going. At least he was alive. As Gustus tried to get a couple more seconds of shuteye, the door to the shack slammed open. It caught the attention of everyone. The ex-convicts all went silent, their gaze fixed on the lone figure at the door.

    It was that female marauder from last time, Ivana, from what Gustus could remember from his time eavesdropping. The last couple of days here had given the ex-convict time to observe and learn the names of the marauders that kept them all fed and alive. He watched as the female marauder¡¯s face turned to disgust at the shack, her eyes gazing over all of the men.

    ¡°Up. All of you. It¡¯s time for eating.¡±

    The shack burst to murmuring and questions, all of them about if what she said was true. Gustus raised an eyebrow at Ivana¡¯s statement. Supper wasn¡¯t for a couple of hours. This was early.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± the marauder called out, silencing the men. ¡°This is a special occasion. Deimos wants to extend his hospitality to his new recruits.¡± The ex-convicts looked at each other in confusion, but not a single one spoke up. ¡°Follow me,¡± Ivana ordered.

    Slowly, the men in the shack all make their way out the door. Gustus was one of the last to get out, his gaze still focused on Lars. The brutish man was silent, his focus aimed ahead as he walked along the men. The former prisoner followed behind closely, his hands rubbing at his wrists. While he had no more shackles, he couldn¡¯t help but feel as if he was back in the dungeons of Haven.

    The crowd of inmates soon arrived at what looked to be an outpost by the sea, its walls built high over the horizon. The large wooden doors at its entrance were thrown wide, showcasing an open courtyard at its center. Gustus peeked over the crowd, his eyes spotting what looked to be a table ahead in the grassy courtyard.

    On its wooden surface, wet from the rain, was food. Actual, honest to the gods, food. Not just scraps or rations, but an entire feast''s worth. Once he had noticed it, the other men did as well. Sure enough, the single file line of prisoners broke loose. Men pushed past each other to get a piece of the goods on that long table, their shouts overlapping with each other. Gustus was pushed to the wet grass, his body nearly trampled by everyone around.

    Still, he managed to slip through the fighting convicts, his smaller frame unnoticeable to those around. Gustus soon made it to the table, where men were fighting over each other for their scraps. The ex-convict grabbed what he could, stuffing as much of it into his starving gullet. He had to avoid those who wanted the food, but other than that, it was easy pickings.

    As Gustus ate his fill, men around him had to fight and beat each other down for something as simple as just a leg of turkey. The marauders around the convicts didn¡¯t seem to care at all, most of them keeping their distance. Soon enough, the fighting began to die down, with most of the inmates eating their recovered scraps while others groaned with bruises on their face and bodies. Gustus was under the table during all of it, his hands full with mashed potatoes and chicken breast. Granted, they had been drenched from the constant rain, but the man took what he could. As he finished up his meal, a voice called out to the courtyard.

    ¡°Attention all! If I would have your attention,¡±

    The voice was deep and charismatic in a way, the source of which Gustus instantly recognized. He peeked from beneath the table. Sure enough, the Red Death of the North stood over them all, his imposing figure standing on a balcony that overlooked the courtyard. The man himself struck a sense of fear into the ex-convict. The demanding presence of Deimos was enough to force Gustus and everyone around to to watch and listen attentively.

    The Red Death grinned as he raised a hand to the men below him. ¡°You are the worst of the worst. The rejects. The forgotten. The exiled. All of you were headed your way to be executed. At least, that was your life a month ago.¡± Deimos gripped the balcony railing. ¡°Now you are here, rescued by my hand.¡± The men in the courtyard all looked at each other. While it was true they had been saved, there was an air of unease. No one knew what Deimos wanted from them all. Until now.

    ¡°For those who question why they are here. Let me be the first to tell you.¡± The Red Death gestured to the table below, where it had been home to the banquet of food from before. ¡°This feast here is only a taste of what I offer. A new life awaits ahead, its future full of promise and wealth.¡± The marauder¡¯s words seem to excite the former inmates. Their eyes glinted with greed and want, signs that Deimos was appealing to them. Gustus himself felt a bit of excitement at the prospect of this future. He was a bandit before his imprisonment, his scores barely enough to keep him fed at times. This offer from Deimos was something tantalizing, especially since the Marauders of the North were more than competent in keeping their promises.

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    ¡°However¡­¡± Deimos¡¯ grin slowly faltered. His change in tone struck a sense of dread in the air. ¡°No such luxury is gained with ease. You must work hard for it. You must be able to fight for it.¡± He raised a demanding fist. ¡°In order for us to harvest from such a garden of wealth, we must first pull the weeds that threaten weakness and inability.¡± Deimos¡¯ opened his palm, before he swiped it. The marauders around the courtyard threw weapons into the courtyard, all of them ranging from daggers to warhammers. Gustus stared at the glint of sharpened steel, his gut lurching at the thought.

    ¡°There will be no weakness allowed,¡± Deimos called out coldly. ¡°One hundred men have entered this courtyard. Half of you shall leave here as true marauders. Until then, the doors shall be locked.¡± As if to punctuate his words, the doors that led into the courtyard slammed shut. Gustus quickly stood from his sitting position. All the men around were staring at each other in confusion, as if they didn¡¯t hear right. Gustus however, knew exactly what Deimos was implying. His eyes settled on the dagger that stuck out from the grass and wet dirt. Without saying anything, the ex-convict sprinted to the weapon.

    All hel broke loose.

    Gustus had barely grabbed his dagger when everyone around him burst into action. Just as he turned around, he was met with the sight of an incoming spear. Thankfully, the sharpened tip only managed to graze his thigh, leaving only a gash behind. The inmate looked up to the attacker that had tried to stab him. Before Gustus could react however, the attacker was suddenly tackled by a larger man, his spear flying out of his hand.

    Gustus kept his weapon close to his chest, his feet kicking himself away from the center of the courtyard. However, he would not be able to reach the outskirts. Marauders with spears held off any man attempting to cower into the corners. Arrows were shot at anyone trying to escape or cower in secluded spots. It seemed as if Deimos had made sure no one would be able to escape nor wait it out.

    Gustus quickly moved to avoid another attack, this time from a poleaxe aimed for his head. The attacking inmate tried to strike at Gustus once more, but the smaller man was quicker. His dagger sank into the convict¡¯s exposed belly, the sound enough to make Gustus sick. Still, he pressed on. Gustus forcefully yanked his blade out from the dying man, before he stabbed the throat to fully finish the job. His hands shook sporadically as he did so, the blood from the kill staining the mud of the courtyard.

    The fight did not end there for poor Gustus unfortunately. Men around him hacked and stabbed at each other, blood flying and staining everything as the heavy rain attempted to wash it all off. An inmate tried to escape, but he was quickly gutted by awaiting spears. A terrified convict tried to cower underneath the table, but he was dragged out by bloodthirsty inmates. A man managed to get past the spears and tried to climb the walls, but he was shot down by archers.

    Gustus was in the midst of it all, slashing and stabbing at anyone who got too close. His arms and legs burned with wounds, his torso riddled with cuts. Yet he pressed on, doing his best to hide among the bodies whenever he was given the chance. Still, he didn¡¯t plan on spending too long in the mud. Others had the same idea as him, but they were spotted out by archers and shot to death. Hiding out for too long painted a deadly fate for him.

    Gustus quickly moved to subdue a man who had his back turned, quickly stabbing at the exposed areas. He struck at his ribs, his stomach, and neck area, hoping to get a fatal wound in the process. His target fought back, both inmates soon tackling each other in the bloody marsh. Gustus kicked and punched like a mule, doing his best to gain the upper hand. Both men struggled to get on top, their hands fighting for the dagger.

    In the end, Gustus won the bout. He pinned the man to the ground with his weight, his dagger slicing through the soft flesh that was the inmate¡¯s throat. The man below him struggled and fought for a bit, but he soon gave up, his body slowly going limp. Gustus shakily pulled away from the body, focusing instead on surviving rather than the horrible deed he had committed. Just as he managed to get his bearings once more, a hammer came swinging at him.

    The inmate rolled away from the oncoming attack, the hammer¡¯s end speckling dirt and blood everywhere as it hit the dead man from before. Gustus looked at the attacker, his heart dropping at the sight.

    Lars was above him, his hands carrying a warhammer. The berserker swung down once more, aiming to kill the downed inmate. Gustus quickly backed away from the oncoming hammer. Without so much as a yell, Gustus quickly moved to stab at Lars. His dagger only glanced off the bigger man¡¯s torso, doing nothing more than making him bleed.

    Lars growled as he threw Gustus back, his hammer raising. Gustus tried to move, to run, but he kept slipping on the mud. In a desperate attempt, he grabbed his knife by its edge. Without anything else to lose, Gustus threw his knife at Lars. The dagger spun in the air, its steel stained by dirt and blood. It struck Lars in his eye but not in the way Gustus hoped for. Instead of its sharp edge stabbing through flesh, its blunt handle merely blinded the berserker. Lars had started to swing when it struck, his arms shifting slightly. The hammer¡¯s end instead slammed into the cold mud next to Gustus¡¯ head.

    ¡°You little¨C!¡± Lars was cut off by a loud horn that sounded out. Still, the berserker didn¡¯t care. Lars attempted to lunge at Gustus with his own dagger, his eyes full of rage. He would not be able to do anything to the terrified inmate. Marauders came into the courtyard, using their spears to ward off the violent man. More marauders stormed the bloody hellscape that was the yard, the black steel of their armor glinting from the rain. They restrained inmates and warded them off each other, their shouts indicating that Deimos¡¯ trials had ended.

    Gustus was picked up by one of the marauders. He tried to stand right, but his knees were weak and wobbled. As he was dragged off, his eyes stared at what used to be the courtyard. Corpses riddled the bloody marsh, spears and swords sticking out of them. The fletching of arrows were visible among the post carnage, the bodies they belonged to all piled up at the walls. The rain still poured down like a never ending curse, washing off the blood that stained the walls and weapons. Yet Gustus felt dirty. The feeling of blood on his hands was still there, despite the water that had washed it off.

    The inmate looked up at the balcony that overshadowed the courtyard. He caught the gaze of Deimos, who had been watching the chaos. The Red Death had no expression visible upon his face, as the shadows of the dying day hid his features. Yet Gustus could swear that he was smiling.

 B.3 Chapter 21: Responsibilities

    3

    The Wizard Conspiracy

    <hr>

    Dahlia Astera sighed as she rested at the bar, her hands cupping a mug that held water. She was exhausted and spent from her day of responsibilities. Only a week has passed since James left and already she was feeling overwhelmed. She had helped him before with his job as clan leader, but she had underestimated how much work actually went into it. Dahlia looked down at her open journal, which had all of her responsibilities scrawled on it.

    Yorktown

    Prisoners

    Council meeting

    Marketplace dispute

    Discuss expansion

    Aldren

    Start renovations on homes

    Silas and orcs

    Talk with Lowe

    Personal

    Train with Helen

    Stock up on food

    Practice with tome

    She had gotten most of the list done, but Dahlia knew she would need to revisit them the next day. The shaman had been so busy with work that she had neglected to visit the last two errands on her list. James had given her permission to talk with Silas about the possibility of allowing another orc tribe on the island. Of course, the idea itself was a risky gamble. She didn¡¯t agree at first, but her talk with the orc leader the other day had convinced the shaman that protection over the island was a necessity. Dahlia was reminded of the days Yorktown had been attacked. The knights and marauders had proved again and again that their guard needed to be more than ¡®just enough¡¯.

    They needed to be ready for the next big threat, whether it be from Jarl Ivan, or those orcs from Aldren. The new recruits were doing well and their numbers improved the town¡¯s defense, but Dahlia knew it wouldn¡¯t be enough. She had proposed the idea of hiring more mercenaries but it was obviously turned down. It was too expensive and hinged on the idea that the paid swords were going to be loyal enough to defend the town from any threat, including the ever expanding Lumen Kingdom and the dangerous Marauders of the North.

    The orcs were loyal to the end. At least, the ones Dahlia knew. They practically worshiped James and his clan symbol, proclaiming the blond man as a champion of the death god. Which had resulted in the man¡¯s new nickname. The Draugr. Dahlia chuckled at the name, recalling how James visibly felt uncomfortable at the title. He was far from the sinister nature of that name, far from that kind of man. The James she knew was a kind man, determined to protect his friends at all costs. He was someone who would never dabble in those dark arts, no matter how tantalizing the benefits.

    ¡®Still, it seems like he¡¯s different now?¡¯

    Dahlia¡¯s smile faltered a little. She remembered that fateful day, back when James had taken his first life. Gryff Brenwick. He had forcefully destroyed the cryomancer¡¯s ley lines, ending his life brutally. Dahlia could still remember the sour smell of flesh being burnt. It had brought back memories of her first kill, back when she had defended Yorktown for the first time. Dahlia had night terrors for weeks after that, her mindset never being the same after that. Yet James had handled his own demons differently. He seemed more callous after Gryff¡¯s death. No night terrors, either. The otherworldly man had simply buried the experience, instead wanting to move on. Dahlia hoped that James still had his humanity after that fight.

    The shaman looked over her responsibilities once more, deciding to clear her head. Silas had suggested to James and her about the possibilities of taking in an orc tribe. According to the orc leader, the new tribe will be integrated with Silas¡¯ own. They were apparently willing to merge with the clan and serve under the raven banner under a couple of conditions. Dahlia still had to work out these conditions with Silas, as some of them involved things that were beyond the clan¡¯s reach and coffers.

    Dahlia muttered as she circled Silas¡¯ name, writing a little note by it that simply read: ¡®Work in progress.¡¯ Once that was done, she went to Lowe¡¯s name. The gnome had been pestering her about a favor he needed. Of course, he had refused to speak about it in public. Dahlia had been putting it off for the past month, as she had much more important things to do than hear another spiel about the gnome¡¯s suspicion of the fisherman by the port. Not only that, but the shaman had been practicing with her magic, working to improve it some more.

    Dahlia was admittedly not a fighting person. Her skills could only go so far with swordplay and defense stances. Her real talent lay in magical ability. She had been practicing and sharpening her craft, able to hone in her ley lines and spell casting within only a few years after activating them.

    Dahlia smiled at the memory of her first spell. She had been a younger woman, barely an adult. Trained and taught by only the best. Dahlia¡¯s expression faltered at the memory of the old man. Shaman Dres was the one who taught her the Ignition spell, as well as the fogcloud casting. He had shown Dahlia the proper way to form a rune circle, how to initiate a ritual, and the basics of summoning. All of these things had shaped the young woman for who she was.

    Dahlia looked down at her palm, where calluses ridged its surface. As of late, she had been attempting to get back into learning magic. Before James was summoned, Dahlia was practicing and reading the spell tomes the old shaman left behind. Many were detailed with rituals and castings that were far out of her reach of expertise. Still, some were right in her range of ability. All she had to do was practice and learn. Dahlia looked down at her journal, right where she wrote down ¡®personal¡¯. Under it were the tasks she had to get down for herself. Among them were important things, such as ¡®train with Helen¡¯ and ¡®stock up on food¡¯. At the bottom, though, was a task that was left unchecked. ¡®Practice with tome¡¯.

    The tome referenced was one she was currently practicing with. It detailed a spell that would increase her ability and unlock an entire branch of spell casting for her. She had learned three new spells these past few months, all for the requirements needed to cast it. However, she needed more practice and more time to master these three spells. At the thought of them, Dahlia flipped her journal a couple of pages back. Right next to her scribbles and sketches were the spells she had in her arsenal.

    Minor Heal

    Regenerate minor wounds on either yourself or another party. Cannot be used to cure poison, sickness, or frostbite.

    Cost: One casting. Three if one wants to bolster it.

    Flame Cleanse

    Healing flame. Cleanses out poison, venom, and other ailments that are not level three or above. Can be used to stave away dangerous temperatures.

    Warning: More than three uses of the spell can be dangerous. USE WITH CAUTION

    Cost: Two castings

    Wind Wall

    A gust of wind that will protect you. Blocks arrows, minor Fireballs, bolts, and level two spells and below.

    Cost: One casting. Two if one wants to advance it and/or bolster it.

    These three spells were all recently learned by Dahlia through the study of tomes and Shaman Dres¡¯ notes. Minor Heal was the first one she learned to cast. It was a long time coming, as she had been meaning to add this casting to her back pocket. Gods knew how many injuries could¡¯ve been prevented if she had learned this months back.

    Minor Heal was a spell that wasn¡¯t as effective as its counterpart, ¡®Heal¡¯. The spell was limited to treating smaller wounds, such as cuts and burns. Still, it was far from useless. It was amazing what could be classified as a ¡®minor¡¯ wound in terms of wounds. While the spell could never heal guts spilling out of someone¡¯s stomach, it could do a damn good job of healing stab wounds. Such was the case with Haggard¡¯s last brawl, which had resulted in a knife sticking out of his arm. If Dahlia wished to bolster it, the healing spell became almost as advanced as its superior counterpart. Still, that led to its cost tripling.

    ¡®That¡¯s right¡­ Cost.¡¯

    Every spell had a cost on a body and its ley lines. A Fireball simply wasn¡¯t the same cost as a flare. It was natural that some spells were worth more than others. There were different names for the measurement, such as slots, reserves, and castings. A simple spell was worth one of these. Advanced ones cost more. For example, a simple minor heal was worth one casting. However, if Dahlia wished to bolster or advance it, it would cost her three of her reserves.

    This was normal for spellcasters. It was why many Wizards and self respecting sorcerers studied for their ability rather than get it the easy way, like James. At a certain point, spells would increase in cost and their casters would need to practice more to advance their ley lines and increase their body¡¯s durability. Still, reserves did not mean a Wizard could just spam the spells in less than a minute. Doing so will cook the body inside out. Moderation was key.

    Dahlia herself could only cast fourteen to fifteen spells a day. She naturally gained her magical ability, so her reserves were higher than those who took the easy route. Still, her castings were on the low side for spellcasters, as the average with advanced spellcasters was around fifty. Some Wizards were rumored to have their reserves in the hundreds.

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    Dahlia looked at the next spell on the list. Flame Cleanse. That was one she was proud of. Fire had always been an element she had loathed taking on. The Ignition spell she had in her back pocket was an achievement in itself. The spell called Flame Cleanse was not a common one. It was a rank two spell, worth two castings. It was also one that could easily backfire if the caster fumbled the rune, resulting in the body igniting into flames. The spell required the caster to form its rune on the recipient. They would then cast it, igniting flames around the person. If done right, the spell would simply leave nothing but a small burn mark. Not just that, but it would also cleanse the person of any ailments such as poison or sickness.

    The shaman had practiced this rune on lumps of firewood and watched as nearly all of them had burst into flames. Just recently, she had finally got it down. Dahlia was proud of her unburnt logs, which had thankfully not suffered the spell¡¯s wrath. It was only last week that she could finally use the spell on herself, cleansing her body from a bottle of makeshift poison she had drank beforehand. It was risky, stupid, and had resulted in James yelling at her, but she had proven that the spell worked and that she had finally mastered it.

    Wind Wall was another she was able to summon recently. The spell was tricky, as it involved the element of wind, something that wasn¡¯t her strong suit. That was because of her affinity to flame. Everyone had an affinity with an element, which itself influenced spells. Those who were compatible with flame like her had an easier time with fire based spells. However, those same people would have much trouble with water-based spells. It was why Wizards were uncommon and why pyromancers, cyromancers, and other ¡®mancers¡¯ existed.

    Dahlia¡¯s affinity was towards nature and flame, two elements that were rarely ever compatible. She was born with those affinities, a result of her branching heritages. Her father was a man who was compatible with fire, while her mother was someone who had an affinity to nature. Both clashed, but somehow, they managed to be passed down to Dahlia.

    Wind was tricky for Dahlia as it was a natural bane towards flame. Banes were another problem with magic casters. They were the weakness of any caster and their spells. Water mages could drop a pyromancer with little effort, even if their skill difference was significant. It was common knowledge. While it didn¡¯t make entirely any sense for wind to also be a bane of flame, the shaman couldn¡¯t really complain. She did not make the rules.

    The fogcloud spell had already been a pain in the ass for her to learn, as it had taken her months back when she was initially learning magic. Wind Wall had reminded her of that time, since the spell had failed with every casting Dahlia used. This had resulted in Dahlia wasting all of her reserves in one day, only to rest and try again the other day. After a month of this endless cycle, Dahlia had finally made a breakthrough just the other day. She had summoned the Wind Wall, which had stayed standing for a solid five seconds before failing. It wasn¡¯t a lot, but it was clear progress.

    ¡®Just need to get good enough with these spells¡­¡¯

    Dahlia looked down at the other side of the page of her journal, which showcased the ritual spell she had been wanting to try ever since she had set her eyes upon it. It required the knowledge of three branches of magic. Any would do, as it didn¡¯t really require their elements. It instead needed the caster to be skilled enough not to be killed in the process of summoning. Dahlia was close to that skill level. Her spell reserves had grown these past months, which was proof enough that she was getting stronger.

    She looked at the ritual once more, reading the effects of its magic and what branch it unlocked. Dahlia felt sweat dampen her palms as she muttered the words to herself.

    ¡°Shadow Bind¡­ can bind any being, regardless of skill¡­. ritual can last for five minutes¡­ side effects can be¡­ nausea¡­ vomiting¡­ sickness¡­ chance of death if overuse or underdeveloped ley lines¡­ gateway for summoning shadow spells¡­¡±

    This was a ritual that delved into dark magic. Dahlia was already used to it, as she had practiced demon summonings before. Still, she had not tried such magic in months. She knew how James felt about it. Yet Dahlia couldn¡¯t pass up the chance to learn magic that could very well protect her in the future. Not just that, but this ritual could bind anyone, regardless of skill. If she had this in her back pocket during that fight with Gryff, things would have been very different. It was a thought that plagued her mind. Who knew when she would come across such a threat again?

    Dahlia closed her journal. She let out a tired breath. It was getting too late to be thinking about things like this. The shaman finished up her water before she placed a silver coin on the bar. Dahlia tucked her journal under her arm.

    ¡°Goodnight Gladis,¡± she called on her way out.

    ¡°Have a safe night!¡± The barwoman called back. Dahlia nodded as she stepped out of the tavern. The air was cold, yet it didn¡¯t seem as harsh as last week. It no longer threatened frostbite or hypothermia, evidence that Valenfrost was well into the season of Bloom. Dahlia pulled up her scarf as she walked the wet streets. She was careful not to step on the black ice that had formed on its sides.

    As she neared the town¡¯s edge, where the cobbled street turned to a dirt path, something caught her attention.

    ¡°Psst!¡± a quiet voice hissed out.

    Dahlia stopped, her eyebrow raising a little.

    ¡®Did I just¡­¡¯

    ¡°Shaman! Over here!¡± Dahlia¡¯s gaze moved to the source of the callout. On her right was a small hovel that bordered the wall, its door slightly ajar. At its opening, Dahlia spotted a small man peeking out. Not just any man, but a gnome. Lowe peeked out some more, his eyes glancing at the right and left of his position. After making sure the coast was clear, he turned to Dahlia.

    ¡°Get in here!¡± He shouted in a whisper. The shaman raised an eyebrow. While suspicious, she would be lying if she said she wasn¡¯t curious.

    Dahlia stepped into the building, where Lowe closed the door behind her. ¡°What is it that you¡­ want¡­¡± Dahlia trailed off at the sight of the interior. Inside, where she expected a normal hut¡¯s table and bed, was a group of people surrounding a table. Haggard, Helen, Felix, and a blond man she swore she had seen before were huddled around the table, where a ring of mugs surrounded the map of Yorktown.

    Haggard raised his head. ¡°Lowe, was she followed?¡±

    ¡°Followed?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. She wasn¡¯t seen,¡± Lowe answered from the door. The gnome was locking the wooden door that led into the shack, making sure that the deadbolts held.

    ¡°Lowe, what in Freyja¡¯s name am I doing here?¡± Dahlia focused her attention on the gnome.

    ¡°Believe me, you wouldn¡¯t be here if it wasn¡¯t urgent,¡± Lowe called back. ¡°You can never be sure anymore.¡±

    ¡°Dahlia, if you could take a seat,¡± Felix spoke up. The shaman turned to the table at the center of the room, where her allies were sitting. She took a few cautious steps, her eyes moving to the map ahead. ¡°What is going on? Why the secrecy?¡±

    ¡°We were going to let you know. A while back, actually.¡± Felix sighed. ¡°But we couldn¡¯t risk you being followed or our conversations being overheard.¡±

    ¡°Overheard?¡±

    ¡°Wizard Falrick,¡± Haggard suddenly butted in. He lowered the mug from his lips, where beer foam stained his mustache. ¡°Lowe¡¯s boogeyman. He¡¯s in Yorktown. Hiding,¡± the drifter revealed.

    Dahlia furrowed her brow. ¡°The Wizard? Wait, I thought¡­?¡±

    ¡°That he was imaginary? A figment of Lowe¡¯s imagination?¡± Helen chuckled. ¡°No. He¡¯s real apparently. According to the fisherman and gnome.¡±

    ¡°I saw him,¡± the stranger from before finally spoke up. ¡°I saw his illusion falter. It was him. No doubt about it.¡± He looked shaken up, his eyes wide with certainty. Dahlia noted the familiar scar that ran across the blond man¡¯s face. Her brain clicked together the pieces.

    ¡°I know you. You were rescued from Aldren.¡± She recognized him as one of the prisoners James had freed on the island. ¡°You saw the Wizard?¡±

    The man nodded. ¡°I was at the shore. The one outside of town. I was out at sea, netting myself a couple of silverheads. When I got back to the shore, I saw him.¡± He leaned forward. His fingers sporadically drummed against the sparse table. The light of the candles made his features appear more gaunt and sunken in. It was as if the man hadn¡¯t gotten any sleep since. ¡°He didn¡¯t see me. I think he was busy collecting some of the wild flowers that grew around the forest¡¯s edge. I didn¡¯t think much of it until after I pulled my boat in. That¡¯s when I saw it.¡±

    ¡°Saw what?¡±

    ¡°Magic. He was doing something with those herbs, I know it. His hands sparked and glowed. It was a feat I had not seen since my days in Aldren,¡± the blond man recollected. He grabbed a mug. ¡°It was only when he turned did I realize who it was. It was dark, but I got a good look at his face before he recast his illusion spell. He was Falrick, through and through. I will never forget his face.¡±

    ¡°How did he not spot you?¡± Dahlia prodded gently, not wanting to outright interrogate the shaken man.

    ¡°I was already past the treeline when he finished his spell. It was too dark for him to spot me in that brush,¡± the fisherman answered.

    ¡°Hans here has already identified the Wizard¡¯s false name and living,¡± Lowe added. ¡°I checked his name and story. Bartheny Roy. A middle-aged man originally from Bernis moved to Aldren after his wife coaxed him into joining Yorn¡¯s clan.¡± The gnome took a seat near the blond man, Hans.

    ¡°He sounds genuine. Are you sure this is a fake?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°Bartheny was a real man.¡± Lowe responded. ¡°However, so was his wife. When the orcs came, they captured and killed most of the town. Bartheny and his wife had run into the woods right after the invasion. According to others who were imprisoned in that gods-forsaken camp, Bartheny had surrendered to the orcs, but without his wife in tow. It was as if he had abandoned her.¡±

    ¡°The real Bartheny would have never done that,¡± Hans muttered. ¡°He loved his wife. He would have died for her. We all thought it was strange that he came back alone, and with little to no wounds at all. We should have noticed it from the start but¡­¡± He gripped his mug tightly.

    Lowe patted Hans on the shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t blame yourself. With the hellhole that camp was, it was a miracle you took notice,¡± the gnome muttered.

    Dahlia frowned. As insensitive as it seemed, she had doubts about Hans¡¯ story. ¡°Are we sure that Bartheny is Falrick? Have you confirmed this?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s part of the reason you¡¯re here.¡± Felix answered. ¡°I¡¯ve had Kate trail him and report, but he¡¯s thrown her off every time. He¡¯s a careful man, Wizard or not.¡±

    ¡°So you want me to find out if he¡¯s the Wizard?¡± the shaman asked.

    ¡°We need you to help us capture him,¡± Lowe revealed.

    Dahlia raised an eyebrow. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why we have to do this. Even if this man is Falrick, what are we going to do with him?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask that,¡± Helen spoke up. ¡°It sounds like he wants to be left alone. Like Harald, he wants nothing more than to be a hermit. Why are we provoking him? Shouldn¡¯t it be wise to leave him be?¡±

    ¡°Because we must!¡± Lowe shouted suddenly. ¡°Wizard Falrick is one of the most powerful Wizards of the south. He can turn a Lumen knight into nothing more than ash. Having him on our side will bolster our clan. Unless, of course, you want to put yourself up for another suicide attempt at the next fight!¡± Those words visibly struck a nerve in Helen.

    ¡°Why, you little shit!¡± Helen grabbed the knife that was strapped to her boot, her body rushing forward. Haggard thankfully grabbed her in time and held the cursing veteran in his arms.

    ¡°Hey! Quit it!¡± Felix shouted as he grabbed Lowe, who was aiming to throw his tankard.

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand, do you?! How fucked we are already?!¡± the gnome shouted.

    ¡°Oh, I understand alright! I understand you need to get a proper ass kicking!¡± Helen angrily growled.

    It got to where both the gnome and ex-marauder broke out of their hold, their hands grabbing at the nearest weapon. They charged at each other, before being suddenly knocked back by a dividing gust of wind.

    ¡°Wind Wall!¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice echoed with power, her spell successfully working this time. Helen and Lowe flew back from each other, the mugs on the table flying and spilling. Dahlia sighed a breath of exhaustion. ¡°Lowe. Why do you want Falrick?¡± She asked. ¡°Answer me. Honestly.¡±

    The gnome looked up at the shaman, his hands clenching on the mug he had held as a weapon earlier. He hesitated for a moment, but soon opened up.

    ¡°He left Yorn to die that night. He hid in our town for months, refusing to do anything about those orcs. Falrick needs to answer for his cowardice,¡± Lowe muttered.

    ¡°You think the best way to deal with him is for him to work for us?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Because he still has a duty to his own people. To Seamus for Horus¡¯ sake. I was there when Falrick swore himself to Halvorson.¡±

    Dahlia sighed. She looked at Felix. ¡°Are you sure you want to pursue this?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it would be wise for Falrick to hide amongst the people. He could very well have ill intentions in Yorktown,¡± Felix answered.

    Dahlia nodded slowly, her gaze moving to the map of Yorktown that was on the table. ¡°I might have an idea to expose him. To trap him and get him to talk. Without injuring him. At least, if it all goes to plan.¡±

    ¡°What did you have in mind?¡± Lowe asked. He leaned forward with a look of curiosity. The rest of the table seemed to have held their breath at the idea of Dahlia¡¯s proposition. The shaman sighed as she sat.

    ¡°Nothing too dangerous. At least, nothing a little salt and silver can¡¯t do.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 22: The Inner Circle

    The sun shone through the cloudy sky of Valenfrost, a first in months. It was a sign that Frost was beginning to recede and the dawn of a new season was about to shine its light upon the islands of the north. Deimos welcomed the warmth on his balcony. He felt it best to be out in the sun¡¯s glow, lest he grow pale and hunched like those who dwelled in the dark. The Red Death looked upon his fort and town, which sat on a small island that bordered around the southern islands. The modest town of Orestead had been another trading post for Lumen supplies and merchants. That is, until his marauders conquered it a couple months back.

    It had stood no chance, not against the wave of black leather armor and steel plate that bore the infamous symbol. Deimos didn¡¯t personally take this island, but he had supervised the person who did. The chieftain looked to his left, below the balcony he stood upon. Right next to the new trainees was the young man who had more than earned Deimos¡¯ respect. Eli the Spellcaster was currently watching over the recruits, making sure none faltered or fled. On the man¡¯s shoulder, rested the raven that was his familiar and, by extension, his eyes.

    Eli had been proving himself to be a vital asset time and time again. Being a useful diviner at first, Deimos had initially had little use for him. Yet, as of the last couple of years, Eli had more than earned his position as one of Deimos¡¯ inner circle. The blind spellcaster was a force to be reckoned with, and Deimos was more than happy to have him by his side.

    ¡°What are you smiling about?¡± A voice called out. Deimos sighed and turned around. Right behind him was another from his inner circle. Ivana stood there, arms behind her back. The marauder¡¯s differently colored eyes focused on him.

    ¡°Eli has grown,¡± Deimos answered simply. ¡°I am simply proud that he has finally managed to focus on his potential.¡±

    ¡°Yet, you¡¯re also disappointed?¡± Ivana raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°What gave it away?¡±

    ¡°Your words have a hint of sorrow within. Very subtle too.¡±

    ¡°Ha!¡± the chieftain guffawed. ¡°You know me better than myself.¡±

    ¡°As a right hand should,¡± Ivana sighed.

    Deimos shrugged as he looked back at Eli. ¡°Eli can become strong. I can see how far he can go. However, that¡¯s where the problem is.¡±

    ¡°That he¡¯ll be stronger than you?¡±

    ¡°No. It¡¯s the limit. He can only go so far before he hits that inevitable wall,¡± Deimos sighed. He knew Eli can rival powerful Wizards and possibly even those high clerics of Delphine. Yet even he knew that the young spellcaster could only go so far before his own potential yanks the chain on his abilities.

    ¡°He is only as powerful as his gifts,¡± Deimos muttered. There was nothing wrong about it, but even Deimos knew how far those gifts could get Eli.

    ¡°He relies too much on his talents, yes?¡± Ivana spoke up.

    Deimos nodded. ¡°Exactly. He is spoiled by them and relies too heavily on them. If he focused on supporting his talents instead of solely relying on them, maybe he can surpass those limits. Yet¡­¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not going to do that. Regardless of what you tell him,¡± the marauder finished.

    ¡°You know my thoughts too well, Ivana,¡± Deimos chuckled.

    Ivana¡¯s stoic expression faltered a little at that, the edge of her lips cracking a small smile. ¡°Then am I right to assume that you want that meeting sooner than later?¡± She added.

    Deimos nodded. ¡°Get them in my hall. I shall be there soon.¡± With that, he waved off Ivana. As the young woman went off to fulfill her duties, Deimos only stood on the balcony that overlooked the fort and town. He turned his gaze to the port, where his three ships floated placidly. The Desroc was their most recent bounty. The prison ship was a miserable sight, its hull falling apart and its sails rotted. Yet Deimos knew it could be a mighty vessel, capable of holding a small army if need be. He needed to get his ship makers on it and restore it to its original beauty.

    ¡°Soon. Soon she shall be mighty enough to make those Lumen bastards quiver.¡± Deimos almost laughed at the mental image.

    His plan was slowly forming into reality. Everything Deimos had worked for these last decades was soon to come to fruition.

    ¡°Ah, but patience is a virtue,¡± the chieftain sighed. While he could brute force his way into taking over Valenfrost, it would be a foolish move. He needed to build it all up, to prepare for the worst. He was able to quietly build his influence during the years after the Outsider Wars, slipping under everyone¡¯s noses.

    However, Yorn¡¯s recent fall had brought Deimos into the public eye. The Lumen Kingdom had acknowledged his threat and the clans all grew afraid. After all, The Red Death had cut the head of the mighty bear. Not even the Redyr clan could match up to Halvorson¡¯s strength. The Marauders of the North was now enemy number one, but no clan had the balls to attack outright. Still, if Deimos lashed out and conquered like an idiot, it would only prompt the Lumen Kingdom to launch another war against Valenfrost. That was a conflict Deimos wasn¡¯t sure if he could win.

    No, Deimos needed to bide his time. Build his strength. To do that, he needed to increase his influence inch by inch. Both in territory and fear. His marauders were loyal, yes, but through terror and want. Deimos was disgusted with most of them, as nearly all of them were worthless thugs taken in. Still, they were the easiest to control. He exploited their instincts, both in fear and desire. He only needed to promise them what they wanted and scare them into never leaving his side. No one dared to defy Deimos.

    Still, the Red Death had to put a show anytime he went out to battle. While fear and greed worked, so did a show of strength. If a soldier sees his general rip the head off of an enemy leader, he¡¯ll be more than convinced to stay.

    ¡°Deimos. Everyone is gathered,¡± Ivana called out from inside.

    Deimos sighed. ¡°Good.¡± The chieftain turned to the entrance of the meeting room. He shifted and fixed his armor in place as he walked. Ahead of him would be his inner circle. They were a collective of his best marauders. The most loyal ones. The ones who can actually get shit done. Like himself, they were once rejected by societies and shunned. They had all suffered before Deimos had come into their lives. Saved by his guiding hand, Deimos had given them purpose and strength. All of them were indebted to him.

    Deimos could hear their muttering and talking, their whispers echoing in the hall as he walked. Once he arrived at the meeting room¡¯s doorway, the air turned silent. The chieftain looked at the right hand of his chair. Ivana was seated there, her posture straight and eyes set on him. Ivana was one of his first marauders. Saved by Deimos when she was but a child, the young woman had pledged her life to serving as his sword and shield. The burns on the left side of her face were a grim reminder of the hel she was saved from.

    To her right was none other than Eli. Also saved when he was a young boy, Eli was one of the more recent additions to this inner circle. Still, he was more loyal and trustworthy than most marauders. Deimos had taken in the spellcaster like he was one of his own. Eli was reliable and swore his loyalty the day he was saved by Deimos.

    Next to the blinded spellcaster was a rough-looking man. His blond hair was long and rugged, streaks of gray visible. It was tied up into a rough knot, yet still left some bangs hanging over his sea-green eyes. Tyren Blyth was the last surviving member of the Wolf Clan. He was the brother of its Jarl, who had been long gone.

    Tyren was one of the few monster tamers in Valenfrost, which had proved vital back when he was left stranded in barbarian lands. Deimos had come across the tamer when he was fighting the barbarians during the war. Tyren proved to be a useful asset then, assisting Deimos in fighting barbarians and knights alike. He, too, hated the Lumen Kingdom, possibly more than anyone.

    Tyren wore the furs of monsters and beasts he himself had slain. Animalistic at times, the tamer could act civil when needed. Still, Deimos allowed Tyren to keep his two wolves with him. The animals had apparently been with Tyren since they were pups, and as such, were only loyal to him. Anyone who got too close was violently reminded of this bond.

    Next in line was Bilsik. He was a whale of a man, bald and bearded. His bare torso was riddled with runic tattoos, their reach extending to his enormous arms. Deimos honestly couldn¡¯t tell where the fat ended and the muscle began. This unit of the man weighed enough to tilt a small longship, a feat that had proved useful in naval battles. Still, Bilsik¡¯s abilities were not in naval combat. Instead, he served as the heavy hitter. Using his weight and muscle, the large man could take scores of men. With the right armor, he could even be used as a portable cover against spells and arrows. His tattoos weren¡¯t for show either. Bilsik enhanced himself with physical castings, proving to Deimos his true worth.

    Still, this mountain of a man had to eat mounds of food constantly and drink oceans of mead, if only to keep his stature and prevent his costly castings from eating up all of his fat and muscle. Deimos had found Bilsik just before the Halvorson raid. The man had sworn loyalty to the Red Death after a duel. If it could have been called that. The chieftain had forced the large man to literally eat dirt at the end, only stopping after Bilsik called it quits.

    His spot at the table was earned during the Halvorson raid, after the large man saved Deimos from what could have been a deadly thunder lance. Bilsik had absorbed the attack head on with his Carapace casting, stopping the spell dead in its tracks and nearly killing himself in the process. After the raid, Deimos had named Bilsik as one of his inner circle.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°Would you stop eating? For once in your disgusting life,¡± Cecil muttered next to Bilsik. Still, despite the honor of Deimos¡¯ recognition, Bilsik still opted to eat at the meeting table. The large man wiped the crumbs from his long beard.

    ¡°I hunger. So I must eat,¡± he answered simply.

    ¡°You can hunger after the meeting,¡± Deimos called out. ¡°For once, Bilisk, be civil.¡± The Red Death sighed. Bilsik groaned, but complied. He tossed his turkey leg in Tyren¡¯s direction. Both of the monster tamer¡¯s wolves perked up at the food before moving to devour it.

    ¡°Good grief. Tyren, do these animals really need to be here?¡± Cecil called out. ¡°Can¡¯t you order them to get out?¡±

    ¡°I do not order these animals. I merely guide them,¡± Tyren responded. The elf furrowed his brow, but didn¡¯t speak out. He knew better than to cause a commotion. Cecil was more or less smart about that.

    Deimos looked at his left-hand man. Cecil was a blond elf, his long hair brushed back neatly behind his ears. The elf¡¯s armor was a smooth half plate, its steel polished and its red handprint well kept. Cecil was the second most loyal man to Deimos, his thin sword enough to cut down any foe. The elf had joined Deimos¡¯ group long before most. He was outranked by Ivana, but only barely.

    Cecil was a simple swordsman, but he was a damn good one. Deimos kept him in his back pocket for whenever things got south. While it was rare for a situation to go sideways, when they did, Cecil was there to fix it. He was cold, calculating, and did anything he was asked for. He killed without qualms, followed orders to perfection, and was quick about it. Cecil was the perfect soldier, yet Deimos couldn¡¯t help but feel as if the elf was hiding another side of himself. The way his purple eyes glinted made the chieftain question his true nature.

    Still, he was loyal and kept the marauders together when need be. While he wasn¡¯t the most sociable person, Deimos still had faith that Cecil would learn in time. All in all, these five were the most loyal ones he had in the south. Three of his inner circle were currently in the north, taking care of the fort and making sure his control was kept absolute.

    ¡°What¡¯s this meeting about, sir?¡± Cecil asked as Deimos sat.

    ¡°We are to discuss the new recruits.¡± Deimos revealed.

    ¡°What about them?¡± Tyren asked.

    ¡°To properly train them for battle, I think it would be best to put them into the thick of it.¡±

    ¡°A raid?¡± Ivana asked.

    ¡°More or less.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you want another raid?¡± Eli asked. ¡°If another island goes dark this soon, clans will notice. If they put the pieces together, they will realize how far our reach goes.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate the concern, Eli, but we will not be raiding any northern islands,¡± Deimos explained. ¡°Scouts have found the perfect spot near the eastern border. East of Bernis, there is a secluded island that borders the abyss.¡±

    ¡°Near Bernis?¡± Ivana narrowed her gaze. ¡°Deimos, if we raid Redyr territory, we will be engaging in war with them. I know we can take them, but if we attract too much attention¡ª¡±

    ¡°If we attract too much attention, the Lumen Kingdom will invade. I am familiar with this outcome. That is why the island we¡¯re raiding is not of any clan¡¯s territory.¡± Deimos waved off Ivana¡¯s concerns.

    ¡°Eli, the map.¡±

    The spellcaster before the chieftain nodded. Eli¡¯s hands produced a sizable crystal ball, a magic tool capable of displaying images and illusions. He chanted a couple of choice words to the hypnotizing ball, causing it to shimmer and glow. Some magical sparks and waving of the hand caused it to display an illusionary screen above the table. It was the map of Valenfrost, at least the parts that Deimos and his marauders ventured out to. A full map of Valenfrost was a rare thing, since there were countless islands and icebergs alone. To map it all out would be tiresome. It was better to map out what was important.

    ¡°Show off,¡± Cecil muttered at the sight of the illusory map. Deimos didn¡¯t complain about the eccentric magic. He rather liked the light show. Eli¡¯s hands moved and shifted around the crystal ball, shifting the map to focus on the small island that Deimos had pointed out. It sat alone in the east, bordering the black sea and the abyssal ocean that laid east of Valenfrost.

    ¡°It is an orc outpost,¡± Deimos revealed. ¡°It¡¯s on a small island that doesn¡¯t have much for show. However, it is a strategic position for us,¡± Deimos pointed out the other islands nearby. Aside from Bernis northwest, there were multiple specks that peppered the southern area. ¡°These islands are uninhabited, covered only in forest and rocky mountains. We can set up small bases and outposts, growing our reach in the south.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s far out there, is it not?¡± Cecil pointed out. He wasn¡¯t wrong, either. The current outpost they were at was the only one they had in the south part of Valenfrost. Yorn¡¯s fort, which they captured a year back, was situated comfortably in the center of Valenfrost, bordering the north and south. Still, it was far from the eastern edge, making Deimos¡¯ reach strained as he pushed towards it. Part of his plans require that he take over the east and south, doing so by conquering Bernis and nearby settlements.

    ¡°It¡¯s far, yes. Not plentiful either. The south isn¡¯t much, but its principal cities can be used as strategic points,¡± Deimos said. ¡°The more we control, the better our chances are if we are plunged into a war. When we are plunged into war.¡± Deimos rehashed the last part of his sentence. There was no doubt that tensions were high. Valenfrost was falling apart and the Lumen Kingdom was making moves in the north. Conflict was a guarantee. Deimos knew he needed to prepare for it. His marauders were growing by the hundreds, sure, but his territory was still small. Expanding his reach and increasing his sphere of influence was vital for survival and victory.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± Tyren muttered. ¡°We¡¯re stretching ourselves thin if we pursue this.¡±

    ¡°That is why we will first establish an outpost that is well isolated. When our numbers grow enough, we shall use this outpost as a staging ground for our conquest. Eli here can inscribe gate runes,¡± Deimos gestured to the young spellcaster. Eli was talented in the way that he could inscribe runes of gates. A rare ability, even among Wizards. However, the young man could only hold four gates at a time, meaning that his reach was limited. Still, it was enough for Deimos.

    ¡°It is still unwise to keep our forces so sparse across the south.¡± The monster tamer leaned into the table. ¡°Are you sure this is the right move?¡± Tyren¡¯s words carried a sense of doubt and uneasiness.

    Ivana even leaned forward. ¡°Are you questioning him?¡±

    Deimos could catch the venom that was laced in between those simple words. Tyren turned to the right hand.

    ¡°Are you defending this?¡± He asked with an equal amount of vile in his own speech.

    ¡°Enough,¡± Deimos boomed. His voice was enough to stiffen the entire room. Even Ivana was still. ¡°Ivana, stand down. This is a civil matter, not a violent one,¡± the Red Death muttered. Ivana tensed up at the order but did as asked. Deimos sighed. ¡°Tyren, I can see your doubts about this course of action. Hel, I can even agree with you to some extent. But believe me when I say that this will benefit us. Perhaps you do not see it, but our presence in the south is vital.¡±

    Tyren looked down at his hands. ¡°I just think¨C¡±

    ¡°Have faith in me, Tyren.¡± Deimos smiled at the blond man. The monster tamer visibly tensed up at the chieftain¡¯s gaze.

    ¡°I will.¡±

    ¡°Good man!¡± The chieftain chuckled. ¡°Now then, are we in agreement?¡± Deimos looked to the rest of his men.

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°We are.¡±

    They all sounded out one by one.

    Deimos nodded and sighed. ¡°Good. Ivana and Eli, you all will prepare our journey for the target. We will set sail as soon as the recruits are ready. Everyone else is dismissed.¡± He waved his hand. The room was filled with the sound of chairs scraping and feet clattering. As everyone left, Deimos raised a hand.

    ¡°Tyren. You stay.¡±

    The blond man stopped dead in his tracks. His two wolves curiously raised their heads at their master. Even without a clear look on his face, the chieftain could imagine what Tyren was currently feeling. There was silence as everyone left, their gazes fixed and their feet quick. In only a few seconds, there was no one left in that room other than Tyren and Deimos.

    The Red Death slowly walked up to Tyren, who was slowly turning around to meet him. ¡°Yes, sir?¡± Tyren asked. Deimos rested a hand on the man¡¯s shoulder, the slight act enough to make the monster tamer tense up. His wolves uttered a low growl, yet didn¡¯t dare strike at the man who wore the bear cloak.

    ¡°A good leader should always listen to his subordinates,¡± Deimos said. ¡°It¡¯s important, vital even. That is one reason why I keep you here.¡± Deimos forced a smile onto his lips, the act only confusing Tyren even more. ¡°However¡­¡± The chieftain moved his thumb into the crook of Tyren¡¯s neck. ¡°Don¡¯t you ever forget your place,¡± he muttered in a whisper. Tyren only nodded. ¡°Help Ivana with whatever she needs.¡± Deimos patted Tyren¡¯s shoulder, prompting him to leave the room in a hurry.

    Deimos now stood alone in the meeting room, his eyes set on the table. Tyren had every right to protest Deimos¡¯ plan, but the chieftain needed to set an example to the monster tamer. The Blyth survivor was a man who was not accustomed to the marauder lifestyle. He had only joined to keep his wolves safe and fed. After that, he only stayed with Deimos out of loyalty to the contract he signed all those years back.

    Deimos had a smidge of sympathy for the man, as he had suffered a cursed fate. Taken in as a slave to the very kingdom that wiped his people, Tyren had fought and killed for a clan that was no longer around. He was stranded in the badlands south of Azurvale and Valenfrost for years until he came across Deimos¡¯ marauders. Ever since then, Tyren had been loyal to the cause and had supported Deimos most of the time. Still, there were always rising tensions, as was seen recently.

    Even if he was in every right to be skeptical, Deimos had no grounds to tell him the real reason they were invading the south. The Red Death had his eyes on one significant prize, one that would require him to play it smartly and avoid word getting out. It was the only thing in the south that was remotely valuable to him.

    Deimos wanted Vindis, the floating city. The settlement was owned by a multitude of clans. While other major cities worked as a democracy under one clan, Vindis¡¯ control was a mess of things. Attacking it would mean invoking the wrath of Redyr, Olafson, and the other clans. While Deimos could confidently win one on one with each of those clans, he could not risk an army of longships coming in aid of the floating city during an invasion.

    Vindis had a specialized alarm system, one that relied heavily on the totems that connected the city to the ley lines at the bottom of the sea. It would signal the four clans that owned the city, alerting them of any attack. Any and all outposts nearby the city could then attack at once, making it clear suicide to invade and conquer the city alone.

    Yet Deimos had confidence he could take it over. After the invasion of the Halvorson fort, Deimos now knew of his marauders¡¯ capabilities. Especially Eli¡¯s. There was no doubt in his mind that the young spellcaster would turn the tide in any battle, as long as he was used properly. Vindis was going to be no exception.

    ¡®Come Midsommar, and I shall be able to take that floating city of filth.¡¯

 B.3 Chapter 23: Setting Up

    Dahlia breathed out a sigh of relief. Her arms burned with effort, her fingers numb as can be. She clenched her hands again, taking another deep breath.

    ¡°Wind Wall!¡± Dahlia shouted her spell, her fingers moving to form the rune. Despite being numb, they perfectly formed into the necessary glyph. Dahlia could feel the ley lines in her body responding to her words of power. In only a split second, she felt the telltale process of something being used up in her body. It was followed up with a familiar heat emitting from her body, letting her know that her casting was true.

    A glowing symbol had materialized in mere moments, before quickly dissipating into nothingness. For a second, there was silence. Suddenly, a gust of swirling wind had burst through the sparse ice and tall grass, blowing cold air and dirt everywhere. The windwall was a success, its powerful effects tearing up the terrain. Dahlia held her breath as she bolstered the spell even more, her body burning up in response. The gust of wind doubled in size, resembling a small vortex that divided the ground into rough halves.

    Dahlia gritted her teeth as pain struck through her head. Her fingers faltered. As a result, the bolstered windwall fell apart, dissolving in only seconds. The shaman fell onto her knees, her lungs begging for cold air. She gasped loudly, taking in as much of the night air as she could. She was getting better; it seemed. It had been two days since the meeting in Yorktown and she could already keep her windwall spell up for longer than a few seconds. This was a sign of progress. Dahlia grinned to herself as she stood. She felt invigorated from the practice session, despite her body feeling as if she was wearing hundred pound weights.

    ¡°Will it be enough, you think?¡± A voice called out from behind. Dahlia sighed and turned to Lowe, who was watching from the treeline.

    ¡°It¡¯s not mastery, but I think it can be enough,¡± Dahlia breathed out. ¡°The ritual¡¯s length relies heavily on endurance and reserves,¡± she added.

    ¡°So, does that mean you¡¯re ready?¡± The gnome questioned. He was as nervous as anyone when it came to the upcoming confrontation.

    ¡°I¡¯m not exactly an expert at it, but I know enough to keep the ritual locked in for a good amount of time,¡± Dahlia turned to Lowe. ¡°You¡¯re going to need to put those shackles on him as soon as you can.¡± She gestured to the cuffs Lowe was working on.

    Those shackles were a work in progress, crafted by Lowe and imbued with an enchantment Dahlia knew. However, the enchantment was not a powerful one, meaning that Dahlia would need to bolster it whenever she got the chance. It was not a cheap process. The specific enchantment in the shackles needed to be imbued with valdora dust, something that itself was expensive to make. Certain enchantments and rune engravings needed a precious metal to imbue and bolster its power and strength. Gold and silver were common in that department, but some enchantment and runes needed specific metals to work.

    Some defensive runes needed gold dust to work, while other offensive enchantments needed silver to properly work. Obviously, that didn¡¯t apply to every spell and buff. Gold and silver dust worked just as well when it came to common runes. It was all about preference. Dahlia looked at the shackles once more, inspecting their base. There was a distinct green glow her runes emitted, a result from the valdora engraving. Different metals also emitted different glows. Gold emitted red, silver emitted blue, and valdoras emitted green.

    Dahlia rubbed at the rune, making sure that it was still connected to the ley lines and not failing. As she pressed her thumb against the green glow, her body instantly grew tired. Fatigued plagued her hand, its feeling spreading up her arm. She quickly pulled away, a breath of surprise leaving her lips.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Lowe raised an eyebrow. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just fine,¡± Dahlia chuckled. ¡°Looks like those runes still work.¡± She gestured to the shackles, which were Dahlia¡¯s version of a Wizard¡¯s bane. While she herself couldn¡¯t cast anti-magic, a rare form of spell casting, she could replicate it. The runes engraved on the shackles were mana draining. Any and all who made contact with it had their reserves sapped and immobilized. Even Wizards could fall to it.

    The only problem was application and duration. The shackles Lowe was crafting were made with a specific alloy that was magic resistant. Any ordinary shackles would have broken from the engraving and enchantment, but these ones could handle it. As for duration, these specific runes were only to last for ten to twelve hours, depending on who they latched on. In short, if they were really going to trap a Wizard, this was the way to do it.

    ¡°So, are we ready?¡± Lowe asked.

    ¡°Tomorrow we can discuss our plan,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°There, we¡¯ll decide if we¡¯re ready enough.¡± The shaman looked to the sky, which was already tinted orange.

    ¡°Go get some sleep,¡± Lowe muttered. ¡°I can finish these up tonight. You need rest more than any of us,¡± the gnome added.

    ¡°Thank you, Lowe,¡± Dahlia smiled. She turned toward the direction of her shack, which wasn¡¯t too far away. The two conspirators were at a clearing that acted as a certain mid-point between the town¡¯s border and Dahlia¡¯s home. Lowe would find his way home with little trouble, and Dahlia could reach her shack before she collapsed in exhaustion.

    The shaman headed off. On the way, her thoughts leaned towards the upcoming day. Was she ready to face off against a Wizard? Would she be able to enact her plan without it all going to shit? Dahlia brushed those questions away. While she was worried about their plan failing spectacularly, there was no reason to think that the Wizard would go all out with them. Someone like Falrick would most definitely be on his guard, yes, but he would not be so foolish as to start an all out brawl in the middle of the town with people around. That would not be ideal. Dahlia knew that Falick would have to surrender or at least reason with them. From what she recalled with Lowe, the Wizard had used to be a reasonable man who had always weighed his choices. If anyone was going to be levelheaded about it, it would be Falrick.

    Dahlia stopped at her shack, her hand stopping short at the door. ¡®Will he be reasonable?¡¯ Dahlia wondered. Falrick had been a survivor of the Halvorson raid, which had happened to be one of the bloodiest nights in Valenfrost history. Even Seamus, who hadn¡¯t even been in the thick of the fighting, was mentally traumatized from the event. What would make such a loyal Wizard flee from such a fight?

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope he¡¯s still sane,¡± Dahlia muttered. The shaman entered her shack, where she would go to bed early. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

    <hr>

    ¡°So he is real,¡± Haggard muttered. He brought the tankard up to his lips, hoping to get a sip in. Instead, the mug of ale was snatched from him.

    Helen scowled at him. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be sober for this, you dolt.¡±

    ¡°Sorry for trying to calm my nerves,¡± Haggard shot back.

    ¡°Like you have a right to be nervous! You¡¯re practically giddy with delight that you get to confront Falrick!¡± Helen shouted.

    ¡°Quit, the both of you,¡± Felix groaned. ¡°I haven¡¯t gotten a wink of fucking sleep.¡±

    It was morning in the meeting room. Haggard and Helen had arrived early, only to be met with a snoring Felix. As it turned out, the guard captain had been up all night scouting and following Bartheny, who had turned out to be Falrick. Felix had confirmed Hans¡¯ testimony that night, as he had witnessed the Wizard let down his illusion for a split second. Felix confirmed that the man was a spellcaster, and that he snuck out every night to collect herbs and practice his spells at the gravel beach. Bartheny¡ªor Falrick¡ªhad also used security runes for his hovel in New Aldren, further cementing the fact that this was the Wizard.

    Haggard couldn¡¯t believe it, and neither could Helen.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna owe that gnome so much money,¡± Helen grumbled.

    Haggard had a different reaction. As Helen had correctly guessed, the drifter was more than excited to face up against the Wizard. He couldn¡¯t wait to confront the fabled spellcaster who had survived the Halvorson raid.

    ¡°Where is Dahlia?¡± Haggard asked.

    ¡°Lowe went out to get her,¡± Felix muttered tiredly. ¡°She¡¯ll be here soon. When she does, we¡¯ll discuss the course of action.¡± The guard captain seemed more than a little weary, his eyes slowly closing. Haggard decided to let him sleep. It had been a long night for Felix, since the man had to spend countless hours following and trailing the elusive Wizard. It couldn¡¯t have been easy for him.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll fight when we confront him?¡± Haggard asked Helen. He laid back in his chair, his gaze now up on the ceiling.

    ¡°Of course not,¡± Helen responded from her end of the table. ¡°Falrick is a careful man, judging from how well he¡¯s been hiding himself these past months. I doubt he¡¯ll risk it all because he was found out.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± Haggard frowned. While he wished for a scuffle, Haggard had to agree with Helen on this. Now that he thought about it, the Wizard would probably turn away from a fight, even if provoked.

    ¡°Cheer up, you¡¯ll get your fabled match at some point. With James¡¯ luck, he¡¯ll probably bring back an armada of enemies, ready to raid the town,¡± Helen sighed.

    ¡°That¡¯s not it.¡± Haggard muttered.

    ¡°What? I thought you enjoyed fighting?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s only a part of it,¡± the drifter revealed. He scratched at his beard. ¡°Fighting is half the fun. The other half¡­¡± Haggard raised his calloused hand. It had the lingering scars and marks of his past fights, all of which had been a learning experience. Even that fight with those orcs was a fun bout. Yet the adrenaline rush wasn¡¯t what Haggard looked for. No, it was something else.

    ¡°True strength cannot be gained through mindless fighting. Especially against weaker foes,¡± Haggard said. ¡°Interesting and strong opponents are what improve your battle prowess. It¡¯s what makes battle exciting.¡± The drifter thought back to his strongest opponent to date. Blood-Irk was a creature beyond his own strength. The orc had nearly killed Haggard a multitude of times back on Aldren. That had put perspective on Haggard¡¯s own abilities.

    ¡°Improving myself, that¡¯s what¡¯s exciting.¡± He grinned.

    Helen only stared at him in disbelief. ¡°So when you spared my life¡­¡± The blonde woman blinked in realization. ¡°You just wanted a fucking sparring partner?¡±

    ¡°To be fair, I also kind of felt bad for you back then.¡±

    ¡°You fuckin¡ª¡±

    Their conversation was interrupted when the shack¡¯s door opened. Dahlia stepped into the building, her hands carrying satchels. Lowe was behind her, peeking into the room.

    ¡°I see everyone is here already,¡± the shaman sighed.

    ¡°What did you bring?¡± Haggard questioned. He gestured to the satchels she carried.

    ¡°Silver, salt, the things necessary for ritual,¡± Dahlia answered calmly. It was as if she was describing the ingredients to a cake.

    ¡°So, do we have a plan of action?¡± Helen asked. She looked at Felix, who was peacefully sleeping. The former marauder kicked at the guard captain, finally waking him up.

    ¡°Huh?! Wha? What happened?¡± Felix bumbled. He looked around. ¡°Oh, Dahlia! You just got here?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± Helen repeated once more, this time slowing her words down for Felix to process them.

    ¡°It should be simple. We¡¯ve already gone through this for the last couple of days,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°Then again, I guess you two didn¡¯t really take it seriously,¡± the shaman sighed. ¡°Alright, here¡¯s the plan.¡± She sat down at the table, resting her satchels to the side as Lowe hurried to join them all.

    ¡°Felix and Helen will be scouts and my eyes. They will let me know what is happening and where Falrick is going.¡± Dahlia reached into one satchel. She pulled out a few crystals, their hue bordering on a greenish-blue. ¡°These are spell crystals embedded with communication enchantments. Everyone gets one,¡± she explained.

    Felix picked one up. ¡°How do these work?¡±

    ¡°You say the keyword associated with the crystal and it will contact the others,¡± Dahlia explained. She soon pointed to Haggard. ¡°He will be the bait. Haggard, as much as you want a scuffle, I need you to hold back. You¡¯re going to need to lure Falrick to a cleared part of town. We need to reduce damage as much as we can,¡±

    Haggard grumbled at Dahlia¡¯s request, but didn¡¯t oppose it.

    Dahlia continued, ignoring his reaction. ¡°While Falrick gets into position, I¡¯ll start on the ritual. Felix, did you get anything from Falrick? Clothing? Hair?¡± The shaman asked.

    Felix nodded. ¡°I know I know. Here.¡± He brought out a piece of cloth. ¡°Got it while he was in the marketplace. Miracle, he didn¡¯t see me.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Dahlia sighed in relief. ¡°Then we can continue.¡± She gestured to Lowe. ¡°He will assist me in capturing the Wizard. Lowe has our backup ready, so even when my ritual fails, the shackles won¡¯t.¡±

    The gnome brought out his shackles to prove Dahlia¡¯s point. ¡°Not even Haggard can break them,¡± he announced proudly.

    ¡°You want to bet?¡± Haggard responded to the challenge with a grin.

    ¡°Please. No more tests.¡± Dahlia raised a hand to stop the drifter. ¡°You¡¯ve already broken enough prototypes. This one will work, regardless if you can break them or not.¡±

    Haggard sighed. ¡°If you say so.¡± While he could definitely break those shoddy cuffs, Haggard had no doubt that they could restrain a Wizard. Especially with those runes. While he was not an expert in magic, Haggard recognized mana draining runes whenever he saw them. Just looking at them sparked the memory of dark dungeons and foul smells. It filled his head with unpleasant sounds and voices. How could he ever forget?

    He shook off those thoughts. Now wasn¡¯t the time to reminisce about the past. They had a Wizard to hunt.

    ¡°So, when do we start?¡±

    <hr>

    Deimos reinforced his grip onto the tail end of the longship, his body feeling as if hundreds of pins and needles stabbed at it. His stomach churned, but the Red Death kept it in. He was used to the feeling of teleportation. He looked behind the longship, spotting a couple more blacked hulls pass through the gate. They were longships as well, chosen for their sleek profile and speed. Deimos would have taken his dear Bloody Mary to lead his raiding party, but he knew better than to take that warship around these waters.

    The ship he was on, Virtus¡¯ Curse, was one of the very few ships blessed with gate runes. Deimos had procured this specific ship from Halvorson¡¯s docks, taking its name and unique enchantment. Gate runes were rare enough, but a ship engraved with them was close to artifact level. That didn¡¯t stop Deimos from using them as if they were limitless. What was the point of runes if you would not use them? Deimos knew that he also wasn¡¯t the only one with gate runes. Redyr had ships engraved with gates, as well as the Lumen Kingdom. Especially the Lumen Kingdom.

    Deimos knew this because four of the six ships he carried with gate runes were from both kingdoms. One of them was from Redyr and the other three were from Lumen hands. Technically four from Lumen, but he had since given that one away to a certain blond man. Deimos kept that a secret, since no one but Eli knew of that ship¡¯s importance.

    ¡°Sir, we are on a three day sail from the orc camp,¡± Eli called out from the front end of the ship.

    ¡°Good, we can set up a small camp on one of the nearby islands before going any further,¡± Deimos answered. He noted Eli¡¯s raised staff. Its tip glowed, a sign that Eli was still keeping the gate open. That was a drawback from engraved gate runes. While incredibly useful, they needed a Wizard to activate and hold them. Doing so can greatly exhaust a spellcaster¡¯s reserves and stamina. Even Eli had limits whenever he activated them.

    It was why Redyr and Lumen were the one of the few kingdoms with such ships. They had the manpower to hold them and the Wizards to activate them. Whether those Wizards were on the ship didn¡¯t matter. They just needed to be close enough to activate and see the ship out. That way, spellcasters did not need to be in the midst of battle during a raid or an offensive attack.

    ¡°Good idea,¡± Ivana muttered from her side of the ship. She was having a harder time keeping her breakfast in, it seemed. Still, it was a lot more preferable than the marauders who vomited into the awaiting sea.

    Deimos sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t want half of my forces dead because a couple of men were sick. We¡¯ll rest for a day at the island before heading off.¡±

    ¡°Thank you¡­ sir!¡± one marauder managed out before he retched.

    ¡®Weaklings.¡¯

    Deimos felt his face contort out of disgust. The only ones he had any respect for were Ivana and Eli, who held themselves up better. Deimos was satisfied with knowing that they had grown much stronger since their humble beginnings. Especially Ivana, who had been nothing more than a small, weak child when Deimos had first found her. She had a strong spirit, even attempting to kill Deimos out of anger for her fallen village all those years ago. Thankfully, the chieftain had not needed to kill her, for she had soon figured that the big man was not responsible for her family¡¯s death.

    Deimos recalled the two most important times in Ivana¡¯s life. The first was obviously when she had been saved by his hand. He had given her purpose and meaning. He had trained her himself even and had guided her vengeance. The second time was when she ripped the throat of the Lumen Knight that had burned her face and killed her family. It had invigorated her and gave the young woman a reason to keep fighting under Deimos¡¯ banner.

    The Red Death hoped Ivana would continue to grow as a warrior and person. To grow into a worthy successor to his cause. While Deimos was far from weak, he was getting older. Magic and potions can keep a man young for long, but Deimos had no intention of prolonging his age much longer. He wanted to die in battle, preferably against a worthy opponent in a great war. His war with the Lumen Kingdom was going to end at a point, as with all things. Deimos only hoped to make an impact before he bit the dust and took the kingdom with him.

    ¡°Eli, how far until we make it to the next island?¡± Still, he had many things to do before the time came.

    ¡°Half a day,¡± Eli called out.

    ¡°Set us with magical wind then and hurry our ships. Camp must be made before nightfall,¡± Deimos ordered.

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±

    For now, he was the Red Death of the North, bent on burning the Lumen Kingdom to the ground and bringing his vengeance upon the men who had brought war and misery to Valenfrost.

 B.3 Chapter 24: Wizards Folly

    Felix yawned. His eyelids were heavy and his body felt sluggish. Yet he didn¡¯t miss a beat as he slipped into the crowd of marketplace goers. He wore his peasant clothes, the ones he wore outside his duty as guard captain. It consisted of a muddy brown tunic and black breeches, along with a scarf that doubled as a hood. It was all cheap, torn, and in desperate need of some sewing. Yet he wore it, as it kept him inconspicuous among the rest of the townspeople and traders.

    Felix Arlo was in his mid twenties. He had recently turned twenty-four not too long ago. Yet his eyes were sunken and his cheeks were gaunt. His hair was losing its luster and color. He had even found a gray hair last week. While he was younger than even James, the guardsman looked like he was in his forties. It helped whenever he tried to blend in with the townsfolk, as his rundown look helped sell the look of someone not important. Still, as young as he really was, Felix felt too old for this shit.

    The guardsman felt the crystal in his hand heat up, signifying to the tired man that Dahlia was trying to contact. He raised his hand to his mouth, making it look like he was coughing or covering his mouth.

    ¡°I have my eyes on him,¡± he yawned out. In front of Felix, across the sea of people, was Bartheny. Better known as Falrick. ¡°He¡¯s heading south of town, near where the tent stands are set up.¡±

    ¡°Good. Keep me updated.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Felix murmured. He trailed the disguised Wizard, making sure to keep himself at an unnoticeable distance. Felix could feel a bit of unease whenever Bartheny interacted with vendors and townsfolk. The illusion of Falrick¡¯s disguise was so real that it made Felix question everything he knew about magic. Everything, from the way he smiled, talked, and even the glint in his eyes. Bartheny looked real. Sounded real. Talked real. Yet Felix knew better. He had seen the Wizard¡¯s illusion fall, even for a split second.

    It had been early morning when the guardsman saw it. Felix had been camping outside Bartheny¡¯s hovel. He had waited on the roof of one of the nearby houses, drinking from his waterskin and watching with a spotting glass. For hours, Felix had debated whether the Wizard was real. He had even packed up his scouting spot before he saw it. Bartheny leaving his home. Felix had witnessed as the Wizard collected herbs by the town¡¯s border, even venturing out into the forest. Felix still had his doubts until he witness Falrick¡¯s illusion falter. Bartheny had been walking back from the forest before it happened.

    Bartheny had cast a spell. Not a huge one, but a small candlelight spell. Felix wasn¡¯t familiar with the spell, but he had seen visiting ships use it to guide them through the night. It was the same type of magic. Only then did he see Bartheny¡¯s face falter. It had flickered and for a split second, Felix saw it. The face of an elderly man, bloodshot and haggard. Felix couldn¡¯t believe his eyes. The Wizard was real, and he had witnessed it.

    Felix now knew of the importance of bringing Falrick to light. Gods knew what he was doing in Yorktown. While it could very well be a harmless reason, the town had seen enough action to not afford to take any threat lightly.

    As the guardsman stewed in his thoughts, he grew careless enough to stare at Bethany for too long. Before he could lower his gaze, he accidentally made eye contact with the target. Bartheny furrowed his brow at Felix, who had just realized his folly. Felix quickly changed direction and broke eye contact, but he already knew it was too late.

    ¡°The wolf¡¯s seen the crow¡­¡± He muttered into his hand. Felix knew better than to outright say what happened, as the Wizard could have any buff active to listen in to conversations.

    ¡°Damn! Helen, do you have an eye on him?¡±

    ¡°Aye. He¡¯s already spooked. He¡¯s heading to New Aldren, where the rebuilding is.¡±

    Felix cursed to himself. There was no way Falrick was going to brush this off. This was their one chance and he had possibly blown it. It was all up to the others now. The only thing Felix could do is to regroup.

    He just hoped Haggard wouldn¡¯t cause trouble.

    <hr>

    ¡°He¡¯s heading up the street. It¡¯s clear that he¡¯s trying to get to his hovel.¡±

    ¡°Can you intercept him?¡±

    ¡°No. If I start running, he¡¯ll get desperate.¡±

    Haggard listened in to the conversation between the two women. He smiled a little. It seemed as if a confrontation was inevitable.

    ¡°Haggard, can you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Say no more,¡± Haggard spoke to the spell crystal. ¡°I¡¯ll intercept.¡±

    ¡°Haggard, you need to lead him to the planned spot! Don¡¯t stray from the plan!¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡± The drifter was already heading to the street that connected to the eastern part of town. His part in this was simple. Get the Wizard to the ritual spot, where Dahlia will restrain him. Haggard knew that force wasn¡¯t necessary, as a fight would only drive away the target. He needed to be cunning. He needed bait.

    Haggard made a turn onto the street, doing his best to look part of the locale. This part of the town was ripe with people, making it easier for him to blend in. He even whistled as he gently pushed past a couple. Soon enough, the target made his appearance. Bartheny looked flustered and nervous. He wasn¡¯t running, but he certainly wasn¡¯t taking a calm walk through town.

    Bartheny fidgeted with his waist, where a belt was visible. Haggard focused in and saw what the disguised man was checking up on.

    ¡®Ah, there it is.¡¯

    He had just found his bait. Haggard kept walking calmly, making sure not to stand out among the bystanders. He even hunched a little, making sure his tall stature wasn¡¯t noticeable. He eyed the belt on Bartheny, his hand making practiced motions. Haggard had done this a million times beforehand. It was a useful skill that kept him fed and moving in his younger days. While he rarely had a use for it now, Haggard could still perform the act like it was second nature. Old habits die hard.

    Haggard slowed his walk, avoiding all eye contact as he paced himself. He waited for a moment to present itself. As he grew closer to the target, he witness Bartheny look behind him. It was at this moment that both his hands were off his belt. Haggard smiled. He picked his pace up and bumped into the cautious man, his quick hands unhitching the pouch from the belt. In a mere moment, Haggard had pickpocketed the bag from Bartheny.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± the nervous man exclaimed as Haggard passed by.

    ¡°No worries, friend,¡± Haggard responded happily.

    The drifter continued his walk with a whistle. He slowly counted the seconds.

    ¡®...2¡­3¡­4¡­5¡­¡¯

    ¡°Uh, excuse me!¡± Bartheny¡¯s voice called out.

    Haggard stopped. ¡°Yes?¡± He turned around.

    ¡°I believe you have my coin purse, sir,¡± Bartheny chuckled nervously.

    ¡°Do I?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I would appreciate it if you return it.¡±

    ¡°No clue on what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Haggard shrugged and turned back around, ready to head off. Before he could take a step, Bartheny¡¯s hand suddenly rested on his shoulder.

    In any situation, especially this one, Haggard would have kept walking. In this context, he would have led the confused man to the planned spot. Yet he couldn¡¯t. Haggard felt a presence, one that he never thought could affect him. He turned around. Bartheny was smiling, his right hand extended into an awaiting palm.

    ¡°I¡¯m not asking. Return the pouch.¡± His demeanor had changed. There was still the unmistakingly shaking behind those words, yet Bartheny¡¯s tone was that of an angry calm.

    Haggard debated on if he should engage. Every fiber in his body begged for a fight. Yet the drifter held it back. This was not the time to indulge in his instincts. Haggard instead shoved the other man¡¯s hand off.

    ¡°I have no clue what you¡¯re on about.¡± He even turned away from Bartheny. That wasn¡¯t the end. He had only taken two steps before he heard the words.

    ¡°Thunder Flash!¡±

    Haggard barely had time to react as a white light blinded him.

    <hr>

    Dahlia lined the salt up in the ritual circle. It didn¡¯t need to be perfect, only serviceable enough as the ritual called it. Still, she was obsessing over every little detail and amount. She needed this to work, or else they would deal with a very pissed off Wizard.

    ¡°Is it done?¡± Lowe asked from the sidelines. He watched in anticipation. He was more than nervous, as shown through the beads of sweat on his forehead and the gnawing of his thumbnail.

    ¡°It¡¯s ready,¡± Dahlia breathed out as she carefully laid the piece of cloth in the center of the circle. She grabbed at her spell crystal, ready to contact Haggard. Dahlia was halfway through speaking the keyword when she stopped herself. Was it wise to notify Haggard? There was a good chance that the spell crystal could give the drifter away. Falrick could sense the magical object for all she knew.

    Dahlia gripped onto the crystal, unsure of what to do.

    ¡®Contact Felix and Helen, see if they have eyes on Haggard¡­¡¯

    That sounded like a good idea. Those should keep their distance, making it a safe bet to contact their crystals. Dahlia opened her mouth to speak out the key word, ready to contact the archer and ex-marauder. Before she could get the words out, a loud crack of thunder filled the sky.

    She looked up to the source of the loud sound, confusion and dread filling her chest. In the clouded sky, were the remnants of a thunder strike, magical judging from the traces residue of its bolt. ¡°What the¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s him,¡± Lowe interrupted the shaman.

    Dahlia looked at the gnome. ¡°Is it who I think it is?¡± She asked cautiously.

    Lowe nodded. ¡°There¡¯s only man I know of who can cast that spell.¡±

    Dahlia looked at her crystal. ¡°Haggard!¡± She called out the name with haste, hoping to connect with the drifter¡¯s crystal.

    She needed to know what was happening and why Falrick had gone insane enough to cast rank three spells in the town. Dahlia¡¯s heart sank when the crystal instead turned gray. It was a clear sign that the receiving crystal could not communicate. It only happened when the crystal was compromised, or in this case, destroyed by a powerful thunder bolt.

    <hr>

    Haggard coughed and spat out the dust that had formed in his mouth. He punched at his chest, hoping to get his breathing under control. He was in some shack, its wall now in pieces as particles of dirt floated in the air. The drifter forced himself to sit upright, his eyesight slowly coming to. In front of him was an older man, his beard a mix of gray and black. His eyes were bloodshot and his head had only a few wisps of hair left.

    ¡°Give the pouch. Now,¡± Falrick called out. Haggard took his breaths for a couple of seconds, his mind going back to what had happened. After the Wizard had blinded him, Haggard attempted to swing blindly at the other man. Falrick had then struck Haggard with a thunderbolt spell, which had sent the drifter flying. Which led to this.

    Haggard chuckled. ¡°Oh¡­ It has been too long since I¡¯ve felt this kind of pain.¡±

    He grabbed at his flask, a precaution he had always brought whenever the possibility of a fight was near. Haggard took the swig of the potion-alcohol mix as he forced himself to stand. He grabbed at his hammer right after the swig, now ready to fight.

    Falrick formed a look of disgust. ¡°You¡¯re some fool if you think you can take me on!¡±

    Haggard didn¡¯t waste time. He rushed the Wizard, bent on hitting him with full strength. His hammer swung at the old man in record speed, its bulky head whistling as it flew through the air. Just as the steel made contact, however, golden light shone out of nowhere. It blinded Haggard and sent him stumbling back. When his sight came back, he saw Falrick¡¯s figure engulfed in a glowing barrier that hugged at his body. It looked as if it was made with yellow sand, its glistening grains moving continuously.

    ¡°Golden Carapace,¡± Falrick revealed. ¡°It¡¯s useless to try to destroy it with blunt force.¡±

    ¡°Fun,¡± Haggard coughed out. He grinned as he hefted his hammer once more. ¡°That makes it all the more interesting!¡± He rushed at the Wizard again. ¡°Power Strike!¡±

    Haggard¡¯s hammer gained a red hue as it sped towards Falrick. The Wizard quickly raised his hands, forming the runes necessary.

    ¡°Temporal Parry.¡±

    Those words struck Haggard like a knife, his heart dropping like a stone in water. He quickly tried to redirect, using all of his strength to avoid clashing with the glowing runes. Thankfully, he managed to avoid a grisly fate from that counter-spell. Unfortunately, he left himself open.

    ¡°Shock Paralysis.¡±

    Electricity filled Haggard¡¯s body, causing his muscles to lock up and his breathing to turn short. He fell to the ground, his body twitching.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you my acknowledgement. Your spirit is admirable,¡± Falrick¡¯s voice called out. The Wizard came into view, his hand holding the pouch Haggard had snatched earlier. Haggard tried to speak out, but his body refused to move. The Wizard looked down at the drifter, his face contorting into what looked like regret and guilt.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. This wasn¡¯t supposed to go this way.¡± Falrick turned away. ¡°The spell will wear off in half an hour. Until then, endure the pain.¡±

    Haggard gritted his teeth. His thoughts screamed and pushed at his nerves to move and react once more.

    Out of sheer will, Haggard forced his lips to move. ¡°G-Get b-back here!¡± He yelled.

    Falrick stopped. ¡°You truly are determined for a fight, aren¡¯t you?¡± The Wizard muttered.

    ¡°Y-You! Answer for¡ªfor¡ª!¡± Haggard forced his mouth to move. ¡°Your cowardice!¡± He finished barely. ¡°Yorn Halvorson! Left him¡­ to die!¡±

    The Wizard blinked, his eyes widening. ¡°How did you know¡­?¡± Falrick turned fully to face Haggard.

    The drifter only laughed. ¡°Y-You¡¯ve hidden here for what? Four months?¡± Haggard could feel his strength and motor controls return slowly back to his body. He stayed still, doing his best to stall for time. ¡°You should¡¯ve known that Seamus was here¡­ It would be impossible to miss!¡± Haggard strained. ¡°How do you know he didn¡¯t tell me about it?¡±

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    ¡°Impossible. Seamus¡­ Seamus doesn¡¯t know. He was¡ª¡± Falrick stopped himself. ¡°Who told you?¡±

    Falrick stepped up to Haggard.

    ¡°That¡¯s a secret,¡± Haggard chuckled.

    The Wizard furrowed his brow. He was about to say another word, but was interrupted by a voice.

    ¡°Haggard?!¡± Helen had stepped in, her hands wielding a spear. Felix was behind her, his own hands carrying a short bow.

    Falrick aimed his hands at Haggard. ¡°Get back! I don¡¯t want to hurt any of you!¡±

    ¡°Then surrender yourself!¡± Felix shouted. ¡°There¡¯s no need for violence, Falrick!¡± The guard¡¯s captain had his bow half drawn, the blunt arrow resting on the drawstring.

    ¡°I can¡¯t give myself up,¡± Falrick said.

    ¡°Why?¡± Helen asked.

    The Wizard clenched his fists. ¡°I cannot face the son of the man I failed to protect,¡± he muttered. ¡°Especially after what I saw what he did that night.¡± Falrick raised his hands, forming the runes appropriate for his situation. ¡°He will kill me.¡±

    Those words struck everyone around to hear it. Felix blinked as he lowered his bow. Helen faltered her spear. Falrick¡¯s words shocked even Haggard.

    ¡®Is he talking about Seamus? There¡¯s no reason to think that he would kill him!¡¯

    Haggard knew Seamus had killed men, but the kid had done so in self defense and out of necessity. The way Falrick was putting it, he was describing Seamus as a bloodthirsty killer.

    ¡°Falrick, there¡¯s no reason that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Of course there is!¡± The Wizard shouted. ¡°You don¡¯t know Seamus. You don¡¯t know who he really is! What demon that hides underneath his skin? Once he finds out my cowardice, he will kill me. I cannot allow that to happen!¡±

    ¡°Calm down! We can talk this through!¡± Helen inched close to the Wizard, her spear raised. Falrick aimed his hands at the blonde woman, his lips already moving to utter his spell.

    Haggard was another step ahead, however. He had stalled enough to move.

    ¡°Thunder Fla¡ª!¡±

    Haggard interrupted Falrick¡¯s casting by grabbing at the pouch that was hanging from his belt. Haggard felt pins and needles stab at his muscles, but he didn¡¯t care. He could move now. He turned to Helen and Felix, his hand already in motion.

    ¡°Catch!¡± He shouted. Haggard threw the valuable bag at the bewildered duo. Luckily, they grabbed it. ¡°Run!¡± Haggard forced out.

    ¡°How?!¡± the Wizard yelled. He moved to run after the two, but Haggard held him back. He was still holding onto the Wizard¡¯s belt. ¡°This is impossible. How are you able to move?!¡± Falrick exclaimed.

    ¡°You forgot to factor in the potion I drank earlier,¡± Haggard grinned at Falrick. ¡°It wasn¡¯t vitality.¡± He gestured to the flask on his hip, which had been filled with svidka and a resist potion prior to their confrontation. ¡°Never hurts to be careful¡­¡±

    Falrick¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Damn you! Thunder Flash!¡±

    Haggard braced himself as Falrick¡¯s spell struck him at point blank. Thunder Flash was a simple spell, focusing on blinding and stunning opponents. However, if shot at point blank, the spell could have a shocking effect on the target. Haggard only laughed as electricity passed through his body like a conduit.

    It wouldn¡¯t take much for his body to lock up, his tolerance reaching a clear limit.

    <hr>

    Helen sprinted through the streets of Yorktown and New Aldren. She pushed herself to keep running, her legs burning with effort as she took sharp turns and narrow alleyways. Felix was right behind her, his heavy breathing being the only thing she could hear.

    ¡°Helen?! What¡¯s happening?!¡± Dahlia¡¯s frantic voice pulsed through the spell crystal.

    Helen brought the glowing crystal up to her mouth. ¡°Falrick! Chasing! We¡¯re heading to you now!¡±

    ¡°What about Haggard and Felix?¡±

    ¡°Felix is right behind me! Haggard is¨C!¡± Helen was stopped when the ground in front of her rose suddenly. Before she knew it, she clashed with a wall that had appeared out of nowhere.

    ¡°Stop!¡± Falrick¡¯s voice sounded out. The Wizard stood at the entrance to the alleyway Helen and Felix took. His hands were forming runes faster than Helen could process them.

    ¡°Mudfloor!¡± He shouted. Helen still reacted quickly, her feet moving to climb the nearby wall.

    ¡°Felix!¡± she shouted at the guardsman. It was too late. Felix was already knee deep in the ground, his hands desperately trying to get his bow drawn.

    Falrick formed another set of runes. ¡°Shock Paralysis!¡± Felix had barely loosed his arrow when he was struck with the clump of electricity. His body convulsed before going limp. The arrow went wide, hitting the wall next to the Wizard.

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not dead,¡± Falrick revealed as he turned to Helen. ¡°But you will be if you do not listen! The pouch. Give it to me!¡±

    Helen clenched her jaw. She could easily climb this wall, but she knew the Wizard could strike her down with a spell. Dahlia was so close, and Helen only needed to run a little more before reaching the ritual site. Still, the risk was high. Can she fake giving Falrick the wrong pouch? Helen felt where her coin pouch was. Would he be able to tell the difference?

    Before she could make a choice, the situation was interrupted. ¡°Hey! Stop right there!¡± The voice caught everyone off guard. Even Falrick turned around. Helen took this chance to climb the wall she was on, careful not to slip and fall. Once she got to the rooftop, she turned to the source of the voice.

    It was none other than Kate. Helen could see how the guardswoman approached Falrick with caution, hands tense on her spear.

    ¡®Dammit! She can¡¯t get caught up in this!¡¯

    Helen watched as the Wizard faced Kate, his hands already moving. The ex-marauder made her choice.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Helen shouted, her hands waving at the Wizard. Falrick turned to her, his scowl visible. Helen raised the pouch to show him before she sprinted off.

    ¡°Thunderbolt!¡± Helen felt the hairs on her arm stand up as white noise filled the air. Lightning struck down next to her, the magical bolt enough to make her stumble. Helen rolled and slid on the roofs, her hands trying to find anything to grab. She settled for a plank that was sticking out, her hands gripping onto it fiercely. Unluckily, it broke under their weight. Helen landed with a thud on the ground. She groaned in pain. The smell of singed hair and sweets filled the air.

    ¡°What is that smell¡­?¡± Helen muttered. She knew spells had fruity scents, but this one was unlike anything before. Perhaps it was the electricity that gave it its citrusy scent.

    As the blonde woman stood back up, footsteps sounded out from around the corner. ¡°Shit!¡± Helen hissed. She forced herself to run, her hands clutching onto the pouch.

    ¡°Get back here! Now!¡± Falrick screamed out hoarsely. Helen only pushed herself further. She could see the forest ahead, showing that she was close.

    ¡°Thunder Lance!!¡±

    Helen dropped as soon as she heard the spell¡¯s name. A lance of electricity shot above her like an arrow of the gods, its point hitting the border wall ahead. Splinters flew everywhere as a result, all while smoke billowed from the opening. Falrick wasn¡¯t playing around anymore.

    Helen pushed herself back up, her eyes glancing behind her. Sure enough, Falrick was there, his hands forming another rune.

    ¡°SURRENDER! NOW!¡± He roared with anger. Helen ignored him. She squinted at the hole in the border. Helen felt her skip with relief. Falrick couldn¡¯t have had a better shot. The blonde woman pushed herself a little further, hoping that her voice would be loud enough.

    ¡°THUNDER FLA¨C!¡±

    ¡°Dahlia! NOW!¡± Helen interrupted Falrick¡¯s spell, catching him off guard as she dived to the ground. She even curled up in a tight ball, making herself as small of a target as possible.

    Falrick stopped at Helen¡¯s actions, his eyes blinking as he looked to the opening in the palisade. As the smoke cleared, realization seemed to have dawned on the Wizard. Helen recalled one thing Dahlia told her about the ritual. Falrick did not need to be in the circle. Dahlia just needed a line of sight. The shaman¡¯s form was visible in the dust and crackling smog, her hands bleeding as they clasped together. It was clear that her ritual was reaching its climax. Falrick tried to form a rune to counter it, but it was too late.

    ¡°I call upon the spirits of Hel! Lend me your strength! SHADOW BIND!¡±

    <hr>

    Wisps of blackened smoke shot forward with blinding speed, their tips sharp as spears. Falrick braced himself, his hands trying to form the rune necessary to block it. Yet his numb fingers failed to cooperate, a result of his constant spellcasting. It had been too long since he had exerted himself like this. The Wizard watched helplessly as the tongues of dark matter sped towards him. He closes his eyes, expecting for them to pierce his body like arrows. However, there was no pain. Instead, Falrick felt a sort of weight hold his hands and feet down, forcing him to fall on his knees.

    He opened his eyes. Falrick was met with the sight of the black tendrils holding his body in place, the burning runes on the ground signifying that this was a stationary spell cast by experienced hands. At least, that was his first thought. The Wizard looked at the shaman, who had shouted out her words of power. He had only caught bits and pieces of what she said, but he never imagined that she could cast a Shadow Bind. The smoke around the palisade¡¯s hole cleared little by little and Falrick was soon met with the sight of his opponent.

    She was young, too young to be casting spells on this level. Falrick couldn¡¯t help but feel impressed by her feat. Shadow Bind was a casting few spellcasters knew of, let alone capable of learning. Then again, the Wizard only had to look at the glowing circle she was standing in.

    ¡®Ritual magic¡­¡¯

    Falrick had heard of shamans and priests being able to perform high-level spells with only rituals, but this was something he had only witnessed a few times in his lifetime.

    Falrick tried to resist his bindings, to no avail. The shadowy tendrils tightened their grip, his ley lines unresponsive to his muttered castings and forming fingers. He couldn¡¯t even cast a level one spell.

    ¡°Azlene¡¯s mercy,¡± he whispered. All of his anger and emotions were washed away, now replaced by wonder and shock. He looked at the shaman once more. Her hands were dripping blood, a sign that she had cut her palm to give her blood for the ritual. The blisters on her fingers signified that she had practiced for this particular moment for a while. Shimmering heat surrounded her, her red face and shaking body showing that she was at her limit.

    ¡°Lowe! Shackle him!¡± The shaman shouted out.

    ¡°Lowe?¡± Falrick blinked.

    ¡®The gnome? He¡¯s here?!¡¯

    Before the Wizard could say anything, the gnome made his appearance. Lowe sprinted out of the destroyed palisade, his hands carrying shackles. It didn¡¯t take Falrick long to recognize the runes imprinted on those cuffs. What Wizard wouldn¡¯t?

    ¡°Shit!¡± Falrick desperately tried to break from his binds, forcing all of his will into it. He could break the ritual, he just needed to push harder. The shaman was already about to break. Falrick had a chance.

    The Wizard screamed as he resisted the ritual¡¯s binds. He willed as hard as he could to get his ley lines to work. He formed the same rune over and over, hoping for his body to react. All of this didn¡¯t seem to work at first. Until he saw the shaman struggle and strain in her ritual. Falrick¡¯s plan was working. He fought harder, focusing on his hands and castings. Lowe was getting closer by the second, his shackles open and ready to trap Falrick. The Wizard would not let that happen.

    Falrick struggled and fought, his own vision getting blurry. Yet he could feel the spell weakening. Finally, he saw his chance. The shaman faltered, her hands separating for only a moment. Falrick took it. He forced all of his will into the moment; the act breaking the bind on his hands. The Shadow Bind momentarily dispelled, allowing Falrick to form a rune at the running gnome.

    ¡°Flare!¡±

    Bright light flashed in a moment, blinding the gnome and sending him tumbling back. It seemed to affect the shaman as well, but her resolve remained. Falrick moved to cast another spell at the shaman, hoping to actually cancel out the Shadow Bind.

    ¡°Thunder Lance!¡±

    In a mere moment, the Wizard already had his lance ready to fire. The bolt of electricity crackled and hissed as he aimed it. However, right when he released it, someone suddenly shoved his hand upwards, sending the lance into the sky. The electric projectile exploded in the sky, sending sparks everywhere like a light show.

    ¡°Lowe! The shackles!¡± It was the blonde woman from before. She had stopped the Thunder Lance from reaching the shaman.

    ¡°You are too persistent!¡± Falrick growled. He formed another rune with his left hand, his right moving to grab at the small knife he kept on his belt. He had hoped it wouldn¡¯t have come to this, but his life was at stake.

    ¡°Shock Paralysis!¡± Falrick called out. Of course, his opponent dodged the attack the minute it was formed. He had counted on it. Falrick¡¯s right hand sprang to action, brandishing the dagger he had been hiding underneath his baggy clothes. The blonde woman was already mid-dodge, so she had no chance to avoid the strike. Falrick¡¯s dagger only made it halfway before his hand was restrained once more.

    The shadowy smoke was back, its tendril holding Falrick¡¯s right hand like a vise. Yet his left hand was free. The Wizard stole a glance at the shaman, who was straining to keep her ritual up. She had somehow mustered enough willpower to restrain at least one of the Wizard¡¯s hands. It was impressive timing, Falrick had to admit. Still, he was far from praising her outright. He aimed his left hand, ready to cast another spell.

    Shackles suddenly appeared and clasped onto Falrick¡¯s free hand. The Wizard blinked. He had neglected Lowe, who had since recovered from the flare spell. Falrick scowled and backhanded the gnome without thinking, sending the small man tumbling back. He desperately tried to go for another rune, hoping that the shackle¡¯s enchantment was weak enough to break out of.

    ¡°Thunder Lance!¡±

    No response. Falrick couldn¡¯t cast it.

    ¡°Flare! Mudfloor! Arcane Bolt!¡± He tried even basic spells, yet nothing came of it. He tried to get his right hand free, to cast it. No luck. The Shadow Bind held his wrist tight and did not allow him to break free.

    Falrick struggled and fought, trying to break the ritual like before. However, he would not be able to. The blonde woman from before took steps toward him, her fist raised. Before the Wizard could do anything, her fist connected with his jaw.

    Lights out.

    <hr>

    Deimos looked around the island¡¯s gravel shore. His men were setting up camp for the night, pitching the tents they were going to sleep in. They all scrambled to hurry, as they knew they had to finish before the sun fully set beneath the horizon. Ivana was supervising them, making sure they didn¡¯t fuck it all up. Eli was nearby, watching it all as Deimos observed.

    ¡°How long are we going to be stationed here?¡± The blind spellcaster asked.

    ¡°As long as we need to be. Perhaps a week, maybe a month,¡± Deimos stated. Eli visibly scowled at that, his expression showing disdain with the response. ¡°What is it?¡± The chieftain asked. It was rare to see the young man visibly uncomfortable.

    ¡°This place. It bothers me,¡± Eli muttered. Deimos raised an eyebrow. Very few things bothered the young spellcaster. Ghouls, wraiths, and even conjured demons fail to strike a nerve within Eli. This island was the opposite of those things. It seemed perfectly normal. It was populated with a small forest, a mountain at its center. Deimos himself had noted no anomalies nor anything strange about it since they had docked.

    ¡°Is there something you sense? Another presence?¡± Deimos knew that islands in the south had a tendency to house unfriendly creatures. Feral goblins, wild raptors, and even great serpents made some of these islands their homes. That wasn¡¯t even considering possible outposts that could belong to rival clans. He wondered if Eli had sensed a camp or concentration of hostile creatures nearby.

    ¡°No.¡± Eli answered. He raised a hand, beckoning to the sky. His raven familiar came down in a swoop, landing neatly on the young man¡¯s wrist. Its head raised, showcasing the glowing eyes it bore. ¡°When I scout, I can see and sense things beyond the human sense.¡± Eli looked at Deimos, his embroidered blindfold reflecting the orange light of the setting sun. ¡°The ley lines here. Death permeates them.¡± Eli revealed.

    Deimos furrowed his brow. ¡°You can still read them?¡± He knew the ley lines along the southern parts of Valenfrost were cracked. In fact, he knew since his return to the fort after the events of Yorktown.

    Eli had informed him of this. The blinded man explained that it didn¡¯t affect spells or castings, so it was nothing for him to worry about. It had such a little effect on spells, even Wizards wouldn¡¯t notice unless they had a specialized scrying magic, a rarity that only the Lumen spellcasters were blessed with. Still, many would wonder how Eli could see them, even without this level of scrying. So, as a precaution, only Deimos knew of the ley lines.

    ¡°I can still sense them.¡± Eli answered. ¡°Damaged or not.¡± He looked off into the forest.

    ¡°What do you suppose it is?¡± Deimos asked. If they had to deal with a threat, Deimos wanted to get it done quickly.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. It stinks like necromancy, but it isn¡¯t.¡± Eli furrowed his brow in frustration. ¡°It¡¯s familiar,¡± the spellcaster muttered.

    ¡°Familiar?¡± Deimos¡¯ interest piqued.

    Eli¡¯s frown faltered, and his face contorted in confusion. ¡°It¡¯s the same as back in Yorktown.¡± That caught both of the men off guard.

    ¡°Yorktown?¡± Deimos asked. The first thing that appeared in his head was that of James. He recalled the scene of their last encounter. The burned body of Havor, the bloody figure of the blond man, and that deformed corpse he had seen. He recalled what Eli had said to him that day. The possibility that James was resurrected with necromancy. That the deformed corpse was emanating magic that the spellcaster had never seen before.

    Was James here? No, was whatever resurrected him here? As Deimos¡¯ thoughts ran to possibilities, Eli spoke up.

    ¡°It¡¯s not Holter.¡± It was as if he had read the marauder¡¯s thoughts. ¡°The trace is similar, but it¡¯s not him.¡±

    ¡°Then what is it?¡± Deimos looked into the forest. He focused on the mountain past the treeline, its unimpressive peak casting a shadow on the other side of the island.

    ¡°It¡¯s a trace.¡± Eli explained. ¡°It¡¯s not here anymore, but its trace is still here.¡± The spellcaster sent his familiar out into the sky, the conjured raven spreading its wings as it flew off.

    ¡°So. Nothing to worry about?¡±

    ¡°No. At least, not at the moment. I shall investigate it further tonight.¡± Eli stepped off into the direction of the camp. ¡°I shall notify you if I find something.¡± As Deimos watched the young man walk off, Ivana approached him.

    ¡°The camp is nearly finished, my lord. Your quarters have been completed, of course, and if you wish, I can have the men hunt down something for tonight¡¯s dinner.¡± She was formal, as usual.

    Deimos nodded in approval. ¡°Good. Have the men fish something out of the sea instead. Eli will examine the island tonight and I don¡¯t want him to be interrupted by these idiots screaming and shouting in the woods,¡± he explained.

    Ivana nodded. ¡°Understood.¡± She smiled and turned around, now facing the working grunts who were busy lifting tents and setting up. ¡°Alright you grunts! Whoever is not working, get your ass in the shallows now!¡± Her entire demeanor changed in an instant. Deimos only watched proudly as she yelled and insulted the men who lagged.

    The Red Death sighed and turned back to the awaiting sea, watching as the horizon turned darker by the minute. The longships were docked in the shallows, their sails rolled and the anchor set. The chieftain looked at the bear head on Virtus¡¯ Curse, which looked threatening under the setting sun. Originally, he had wanted to replace the figurehead with a dragon head, but he had grown fond of the bear carving. It was a keepsake, if anything, from the man who had once ruled over the north.

 B.3 Chapter 25: Interrogation

    Dahlia winced as she cleaned the cut on her hand, which had formed a crust of blood and scabbing since the last time she bandaged it. The cut resulted from her ritual from yesterday. She had to give blood to the circle in order to cast the ritual on Falrick. The shaman barely had time to clean it during the aftermath, so she had slapped a bandage on it for the meantime. However, she was beginning to regret it. It was early morning now, but it had only been hours since the fight with Falrick. Haggard and Felix were lucky to only get the residual effects of the spells the Wizard had cast on them. Shock Paralysis was a spell Dahlia wasn¡¯t familiar with, but just from witness accounts, she knew both men were lucky that Falrick held back.

    Now they rested nearby. Haggard had refused to see a healer, and Felix insisted he was fine. As far as Dahlia was concerned, they were fine, unless proven otherwise. Helen was also here, her figure seated opposite of Falrick¡¯s unconscious form. Nearly everyone involved in the Bartheny and Falrick conspiracy was here, including Lowe. The gnome was waiting nearby, his gaze glued on the Wizard. All of them had been waiting through the night, waiting for the Wizard to awake and try something. Yet nothing came. Dahlia guessed Helen hit him harder than she thought.

    Dahlia reached for the vial of cleansing alcohol, her thumb pushing the cork open. She poured the alcohol upon her wound, disinfecting it. She winced a little, but worked through the pain. The shaman finished up with some ointment before she wrapped her palm in clean bandages. Helen reached out a hand to Dahlia, her gaze still fixed on Falrick. Without a word, Dahlia handed the open vial of cleansing alcohol to her. The veteran brought the lip of the vial to Falrick¡¯s nose, making sure the Wizard could take a whiff.

    As expected, the unconscious man stirred, his face scrunching as he coughed. ¡°Virtus¡¯ sake!¡± He managed out.

    Helen gave the vial back to Dahlia, who corked and stowed it away.

    ¡°Wha¨C? Wher¨C? How¨C?¡± Falrick sputtered as he blinked and squinted. Despite the low light in the room, Dahlia could still see realization dawn in Falrick¡¯s irises. The Wizard quieted down the minute he recognized the situation.

    His expression darkened. Dahlia saw how his fingers tried to form runes. His lips even muttered castings. Yet nothing came from it.

    ¡°It¡¯s no use,¡± she called out to the Wizard. ¡°Those are mana-draining shackles. You¡¯re not breaking out of them.¡±

    ¡°Impossible.¡± Falrick scoffed. ¡°Even if they can restrain me for the moment, the enchantment could only last for so long.¡± He was right. Dahlia herself guessed the shackles would only last for another couple of hours. When that happened, Falrick would essentially be free. The Wizard looked smug about his accurate statement. Yet there was one thing he was currently overlooking.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Helen shrugged. ¡°But until those shackles lose whatever magic they have left¡­¡± The ex-marauder leaned forward, her left hand shifting the sheath on her dagger. ¡°You¡¯ll be at our mercy.¡±

    Falrick¡¯s expression faltered at the implication, his face contorting into one of shock and anger. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°Believe me, I would.¡± Helen grinned.

    ¡°You can¡¯t kill me. You didn¡¯t go through all of this to kill me,¡± Falrick shot back.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± the veteran confirmed. ¡°Still, you¡¯d be surprised how many appendages the body can live without.¡± Helen quickly pulled out her dagger, causing Falrick to flinch. ¡°Ears, nose, eyes¡­¡± The blonde woman traced the edge of her blade across the mentioned body parts. Falrick watched with a tense gaze, his body shifting to get away from the crazy veteran.

    ¡°Oh, how about your fingers?¡± Helen chuckled. ¡°You can¡¯t cast spells without those, right?¡±

    Falrick reached his breaking point. ¡°Get away from me! Someone, please get her off of me!¡± His screams echoed in the hut, with not a single soul even attempting to pull the veteran off of the old man.

    ¡°Are you going to cooperate?¡± Dahlia finally spoke up after allowing the torment to go on for a minute. She looked at Helen, who almost seemed to have fun distressing the poor old bastard. Almost.

    ¡°What the hel do you want from me?!¡± Falrick shouted. Dahlia could see how Lowe moved in to answer. She raised her hand. Not yet. The last thing they needed was a shouting match between two bitter old men.

    ¡°Are you going to cooperate?¡± Dahlia asked once again. She leaned in. ¡°I don¡¯t want this to get uglier than it already is.¡± The shaman gestured to Helen, who was already eyeing Falrick¡¯s bounded hands. The Wizard was silent for a moment, his stare switching between Dahlia and Helen.

    ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll cooperate,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°Good.¡± Dahlia gave a sigh of relief as she leaned back. She waved off Helen, who relaxed into her own seat.

    ¡°If I were you, I wouldn¡¯t be threatening a powerful Wizard,¡± Falrick commented.

    Dahlia furrowed her brow. ¡°If I were you, I wouldn¡¯t talk so high and mighty.¡± She gestured to the remnants of soot on Falrick¡¯s fingertips. ¡°Don¡¯t forget, you leveled a building and nearly killed my friends. You had every chance to come peacefully.¡±

    ¡°Chance?¡± Falrick laughed. ¡°That idiot with the hammer started it!¡± The Wizard strained to look at Haggard. ¡°He stole and provoked me to start the fight! If it wasn¡¯t for him, I would have left peacefully!¡±

    ¡°No sane man would resort to slinging spells on a populated street,¡± Haggard retorted. ¡°What was in the pouch to make you that crazy?¡± He asked.

    ¡°None of your business and I would prefer it to remain so,¡± Falrick spat back. The Wizard turned to Dahlia. ¡°Speaking of which, if you have so much as peeked into it¡­¡±

    ¡°We haven¡¯t,¡± Dahlia responded. The pouch Haggard had stolen from Falrick and given to Helen was currently in Dahlia¡¯s possession. She didn¡¯t dare look into it. Dahlia wasn¡¯t sure why, but she had a feeling that Falrick had more than a good reason to keep it secret, considering that he nearly burnt the town down trying to get it.

    Falrick stared at Dahlia for a few seconds, his gaze focusing on her eyes. After a moment, he sighed in relief.

    ¡°Good.¡± The Wizard was genuinely relieved at the answer the shaman gave him. He even relaxed in his chair a bit.

    ¡°Why did you run?¡± Dahlia followed up.

    Falrick raised an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯ve told your friends this, haven¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡± Dahlia knew of what Falrick had proclaimed earlier that day. Helen and Haggard had explained it all to her. Yet she refused to believe it.

    ¡°Seamus is not what you say he is,¡± Dahlia spoke.

    Falrick only chuckled. ¡°Really? You believe that? You¡¯ve known him for around, what? Four to five months?¡± The Wizard sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve known that boy since he took his first steps. I was there when he first learned to swing his sword. I even taught him how to cast his first spell.¡±

    ¡°Wait, spell?¡± Dahlia narrowed her gaze. ¡°Seamus can¡¯t cast magic¡­¡±

    ¡°He can,¡± Falrick insisted. ¡°Three castings, in fact. I taught him myself when he was but a younger lad.¡± The Wizard¡¯s lips formed a small smile, almost nostalgic. It soon turned into a frown, however. ¡°It goes to show that you really don¡¯t know him like I do.¡±

    ¡°So, why are you afraid of him?¡± Lowe called out. ¡°If you truly knew him better than all of us, why would he want to kill you?¡± The gnome was different now. The mention of Seamus had diffused his initial anger. He now seemed worried and confused.

    Falrick turned to Lowe. ¡°I remember you. Aldren¡¯s watcher, correct? Funny how we both couldn¡¯t protect our own homes¡­¡± That seemed to strike a nerve in Lowe. He stepped up, his stare and expression turning harsher.

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    ¡°I tried, I really did,¡± the gnome stated. ¡°I did more than you, coward!¡±

    ¡°You call me a coward.¡± Falrick scowled. ¡°But were you at the siege? Did you fight when those monsters stormed the beaches? No. You were resigned to a hidden island, left to watch over whatever was left of our people.¡± The Wizard strained to get a better look at Lowe. ¡°You weren¡¯t there. You didn¡¯t see what happened.¡± There was a moment of silence. Lowe could only stare at Falrick, his hands balled up into fists.

    ¡°Why did you run then?¡± Lowe muttered, breaking the brief silence. ¡°Why did you abandon Yorn? Why did you abandon Seamus?¡± His words seemed to have hit the Wizard meaningfully. In response, Falrick turned his gaze to the ground, avoiding eye contact. The shadows of the hut hid the expression in his eyes, making it impossible to guess his expression.

    ¡°You won¡¯t believe me, let alone understand,¡± the Wizard softly spoke.

    ¡°Try us,¡± Dahlia answered. ¡°Believe me. We¡¯ve seen more than our share of the impossible.¡±

    Falrick raised his head before he looked at the shaman. His eyes looked tired. Bloodshot. Almost as if they hadn¡¯t gotten a moment¡¯s rest.

    ¡°Do you know of the beholders?¡± He asked.

    Dahlia felt her heart drop a little at the name. ¡°I know that they¡¯re demons. Summoned long ago to fulfill the requests of madmen.¡± She recalled the bedtime stories she had been told. Nearly all of them had mentions of beholders.

    ¡°Yes, the Tale of the Mad King. Many know it well.¡± Falrick laid back against his chair. ¡°Do you know about the eye of the beholder?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­¡± Dahlia answered slowly. Another story. Dahlia remembered the tale of the eye, a common horror tale that described a man who ripped the eye of a beholder to use as his own. The crazed man would then hunt those who sinned. It was told to children to make sure they behave.

    ¡°It¡¯s real,¡± Falrick revealed. ¡°Have been for centuries.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Dahlia furrowed her brow. ¡°They¡¯re just stories.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not,¡± the Wizard sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure how it works, but there are people out there who possess such power. The eye can do things beyond our understanding, some even thinking that they can warp reality.¡± Dahlia could only stare at Falrick, disbelief already settling into her gut.

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± She asked.

    Falrick didn¡¯t answer her. He instead looked at Lowe. ¡°I never wanted to run. I probably wouldn¡¯t have had it not for what I witnessed.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± Lowe had sweat dotting his forehead, his eyes full of what Dahlia could assume was primal fear.

    ¡°The Red Death was strong. Strong enough to kill Yorn and to even take out so many of our men. Still, there was no way Deimos couldn¡¯t have raided the entire fort on his own. He called for help. Help from raiders. Help from savages. Help from a demon.¡± Falrick revealed.

    ¡°Demon¡­ You¡¯re not saying that it was a¡­¡± Dahlia trailed off. Was Falrick seriously admitting that he saw a beholder?

    The Wizard only continued with his story. ¡°It bore the eyes of sin, purple in color. It killed and burned our people. Other marauders accompanied it in black.¡± Dahlia could see how the Wizard trembled at the memory. ¡°It drained me of my reserves but didn¡¯t finish me. It left its marauders to corner me in the fort, forcing me away from Yorn. They could¡¯ve killed me had it not been for¡­¡± He trailed off.

    ¡°Had it not been for what?¡± Dahlia asked.

    Falrick turned to the shaman. His expression was that of fear. ¡°Seamus. I had initially thought it was someone else, perhaps a warrior, who had stayed in the fort to defend it. He wore his hood, so I couldn¡¯t tell.¡± Falrick shuddered. ¡°At least, until he used one of the special castings I taught him.¡±

    ¡°He killed them all?¡± Lowe asked.

    ¡°All of them.¡± Falrick emphasized his words.

    Dahlia wasn¡¯t sure what to think of it. Beholders? Seamus using castings? Seamus had told her and James that he had simply hid during the raid. Then again, she recalled the last couple of times the young man had been in distressing situations. Was it possible that the raid was the trigger for his strange behavior? Could it be that the trauma formed his training into a defense mechanism?

    ¡°What happened to the demon?¡± She asked. She had to get that problem out of the way first. If the Marauders of the North had something like that, it meant that all of Valenfrost was at risk of something much more dangerous.

    Falrick looked at Dahlia. ¡°I don¡¯t know. From what I could guess, it came only when the blood moons appeared. After the raid, I saw no trace of it.¡±

    ¡°The blood moons¡­¡± Dahlia felt a pit grow in her stomach. If the beholder needed to be summoned during an event such as that, then it meant that someone in the marauders had knowledge of dark magic. It was terrifying to think that the marauders had someone like that, but it also meant that the summoned demon was only limited to a rare occurrence, like the blood moons. She needed to discuss this later with Harald. The old veteran could have a better insight into this.

    ¡°Seamus, did he seem different to you when it happened? Was he asleep? Passed out?¡± Dahlia remembered how Kate and Lowe described Seamus during his blackouts. His eyes were half closed, mouth agape as if he was sleepwalking. Still, they also recalled the young man making expressions during his fights.

    ¡°He was awake,¡± Falrick responded. ¡°I can never forget his expression. I almost didn¡¯t recognize Seamus. He was like him.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°Kjor. I would recognize that insanity anywhere.¡± Falrick muttered an answer.

    ¡°Yorn¡¯s father?¡± Dahlia only felt surprised. She had heard the stories about Kjor Halvorson, how he had been a warlord who only wanted to fight and kill. It was a bad era for Valenfrost. Kjor had run rampant throughout the islands and Azurvale¡¯s coast. To where his son Yorn had to step in to kill him.

    ¡°Do you really believe Seamus is that cold-hearted?¡±

    ¡°Kjor was once a good man as well,¡± Falrick revealed. ¡°Seamus will end up like him. Yorn would¡¯ve succumbed to it had it not been for his wife. Seamus has no one to weigh him down. He will turn out like Kjor, a merciless killer. There is no doubt.¡±

    ¡°Will you shut it?¡± The sudden comment caused everyone to stiffen. They turned to the source, which was a certain blonde woman. Helen¡¯s stare was set on Falrick, her scowl enough to make the Wizard flinch. ¡°Seamus will never become like Kjor. Nor will he be like his father.¡±

    ¡°Who are you to speak about him?¡± Falrick shot back.

    In response, the ex-marauder pointed her dagger at the Wizard. ¡°What do you know of Seamus? Beyond training him, of course?¡±

    ¡°I watched him¨C¡±

    ¡°There it is. You¡¯ve watched him. You never spoke with him, interacted, nor fought at his side, did you?¡± Helen leaned forward. ¡°You might¡¯ve been around him for much longer, but you aren¡¯t his friend. You haven¡¯t spoken with him for longer than a sentence, nor gotten to know him.¡±

    Falrick gritted his teeth. ¡°Being his friend has nothing to do¨C¡±

    ¡°It has everything to do with him.¡± Helen stood from her chair. Dahlia could see how agitated the veteran was getting. ¡°Until you¡¯ve bled at his side. Until you¡¯ve learned of his struggles and ambitions, you have no right to speak to us about his future and what he will become.¡± Helen¡¯s words hung in the air.

    ¡°He¡¯s not who you think, Falrick,¡± Lowe followed up. ¡°Seamus is a good man. He¡¯s fought and protected this town. He¡¯s saved my life and others. He is not a monster.¡±

    ¡°He will kill me the first chance he gets.¡±

    ¡°He won¡¯t,¡± Haggard spoke out. He had his arms crossed, his eyes closed as he rested in his chair. ¡°Seamus isn¡¯t that kind of person.¡±

    ¡°Are any of you listening?¡± Falrick struggled in his bindings, trying to look at everyone in the room.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Dahlia finally spoke up. ¡°While it¡¯s important for us to foster at least a bit of trust, this is one thing we will all speak for. Seamus Halvorson won¡¯t kill you. If he tries, which I seriously doubt, we will stop him.¡±

    Falrick scowled. ¡°Trust. What do you have that I want?¡±

    ¡°Safety,¡± Dahlia answered. ¡°I know that this was one of your last hopes for a peaceful life. No matter where you go, you will be hunted down. Either by bounty hunters or marauders. At least here, we can guarantee you safety.¡±

    ¡°Guarantee,¡± Falrick mumbled a little to himself. ¡°Do you really think that will be enough?¡± He asked.

    Dahlia frowned. ¡°What is it you want?¡±

    The Wizard seemed to think for a moment, his eyes moving to stare at the ceiling. Before he could come up with an answer, Lowe stepped in.

    ¡°Dahlia. I have this.¡± The gnome looked up at the shaman, who raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t say. I need everyone to leave me and Falrick here alone.¡±

    Dahlia opened her mouth to say something, but her natural instincts pulled her back. ¡°Does this have to do with¡­?¡± Dahlia gestured to the bag Lowe had by his chair. The gnome nodded.

    The shaman sighed and looked at everyone else. ¡°Let¡¯s give them the room.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 26: Blood and Gravel

    The morning sun reflected off the crashing waves, which washed up foam and driftwood upon the gravel shores of the small island. The sky was that of orange and twilight purple, its clouds sparse and broken. Sunlight twinkled in the sea and waves, which continued to wash upon the gravel beach. As it did so, many things washed up. Twigs, seashells, small crabs, and dark oily blood.

    The sound of a horn bellowed into the air, followed by the shouts of men and orcs. It looked as if Deimos¡¯ initial attack was being fended off. The Red Death stood at the bow of his longship, his right hand brandishing the long ax he always brought. He braced as the ship made contact with the shallows, its deck lurching as it did so. He watched as marauders jumped into the water, their axes and shields raised as they pushed forward. Deimos fitted his half bone half steel helm onto his head, his vision becoming obscured by the T visor of the armor.

    He jumped into the water without hesitation, raising his left gauntlet as spears and arrows whizzed by. Deimos trudged through, his tall stature making it looked as if he was simply taking a lively dip in the river. The men around him however struggled to keep up, the waves hitting at their backs and chests. Some died in the water, spears and arrows piercing their gambeson and clothing. Others pushed on, doing their damndest to reach the shore in time.

    Even then, they would be met with orcs, who wore iron armor and wielded crude weapons. That was the barrier that currently kept Deimos¡¯ marauders at bay. The Red Death still continued to push, his eyes set on the line of orcs that kept his men in the sea.

    ¡°Pathetic,¡± he muttered as he pushed past a floating corpse. His marauders were weak, nothing more than fodder. Still, he had the obligation to make sure as many of them lived through. Otherwise, they would lose respect and faith.

    Deimos finally reached the first orc, who wielded a bloody mace. It gave a pathetic war cry as it rushed towards the chieftain. Deimos took a step forward, readying himself. Right when the orc reached him, Deimos thrusted forward his long ax, hitting the creature¡¯s exposed torso with its head. The orc stumbled back in the water, his breath coming out in a ¡®Woosh!¡¯. Deimos wasted no time. He shifted his ax, now swinging for the thing¡¯s neck.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡±

    In just a second, the orc¡¯s head flew off into the sea, its oily blood splattering all over Deimos¡¯ armor.

    The other orcs took a surprised step back, their gazes now on the man who single-handedly decapitated one of them. Deimos grinned. He could smell their fear. He raised his bloody ax to them.

    ¡°Who¡¯s next?¡±

    <hr>

    Gustus was drowning. At first, he had been doing just fine. The new marauder had jumped into the black waters feet first, his posture straight and his shield up. However, his composure was shot down the minute a spear made contact with his shield, knocking him into the sea. Gustus had tried to get up, but the waves constantly kept pushing him down. Even when he got a lucky break from the current, his fellow marauders shoved past him, making it difficult to stand up straight. Gustus gritted his teeth. He was losing air fast. His vision was getting worse, yellow spots appearing in front of him. Still, he tried to push himself up to the water¡¯s surface.

    Thankfully, Gustus soon felt luck finally take his side. The current pushed in from behind at the right moment, propping the marauder up and helping him stand. Gustus broke from the water, gasping, his vision clearing as air filled his lungs. Right when bliss reached his chest, arrows flew by. The marauder raised his shield in reaction, his panic setting in.

    ¡°Charge in! Deimos has broken the line!¡± A marauder shouted beside him.

    ¡®Deimos is already past the beach?¡¯

    Gustus wiped the burning sea water from his eyes, trying to focus on where the beach was.

    Only a short distance away was the shore they had been trying so hard to capture. Orc and marauder bodies alike littered the gravel, their blood staining the water and sea foam red. Gustus steeled himself, taking a deep breath to comfort his nerves. There were still some orcs in the water, their bloody weapons swinging down on his allies. The marauder in front of him raised an ax, shouting out a battle cry as he took charge.

    Gustus charged in right behind him, his sword readied and his shield raised. The arrows had long stopped raining on him, which made it easier for the ex-convict to reach his intended target. Right beside him were other marauders, their shoddy weaponry raised and their cries filling the air. Gustus braced himself as they all collided with the orcs. Yells and screams reached his ears, followed by the clashing of steel and flesh. Hot blood splattered all over his skin and armor, but Gustus pushed on. He needed to survive. He slashed and stabbed at the green skin, his muscles screaming in exertion.

    A marauder next to him pierced an orc¡¯s jugular with his spear, but his victory was cut short when another orc buried its crude mace into his forehead. Gustus watched in horror, but he didn¡¯t dare hesitate. He instead shifted and thrusted his sword at the mace wielder. His sword¡¯s tip pierced the greenskin¡¯s eye, drawing out a pained roar. Gustus tried to go for a more lethal strike, but he was interrupted by another one of the savages. This orc tried to hit Gustus with a crudely crafted poleaxe, but the marauder thankfully had his shield up in time. The sharp edge of the poleaxe slammed against the wooden disc, which held on sturdily. Gustus clenched his jaw as he held off the brute, his gaze focusing on the one he had stabbed in the eye.

    The crippled orc locked its remaining orb on Gustus, the anger clear in its ugly expression. Before it could raise its mace, however, its head caved in suddenly, spewing dark matter everywhere. The marauder recoiled from the sight. The orc¡¯s skull had been crushed and split open, the war hammer responsible for it raising once more.

    Lars raised his heavy weapon, a grin visible on his face. The berserker screamed as he rushed the next orc, the same who had his ax stuck on Gustus¡¯ shield.

    Just like the one before, Lars effortlessly bashed in the greenskin¡¯s skull. The berserker laughed merrily as he rushed into the fight, enjoying the carnage. Gustus could only stare as his former cellmate fought head on without a care in the world. It was hard to believe that only a month ago, Lars had been nothing more than a punching bag to that marauder woman. It was also unnerving that this same man had tried to kill Gustus not too long ago. This left the marauder conflicted on the berserker, whether he was useful or not.

    Still, despite his uneasy stance with Lars, Gustus had to push it away for a moment. Right now, he was a part of Deimos¡¯ force and he needed to push the damn line. Gustus moved in on the last of the orcs, helping the marauders and Lars. In no time, the charging force of marauders had broken through and taken the beach.

    That wasn¡¯t the end, however. No, the beach was only the beginning. Gustus only had time for a second breath before a female voice called out,

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    ¡°Move your asses! There¡¯s still an outpost to conquer!¡± Ivana was only a short distance away, her sword bloodied and her armor dented. Yet she didn¡¯t even seem to show the slightest hint of slowing down. The opposite, in fact. Gustus spotted the spark in her eyes, showing that she was still full of adrenaline and vigor. The marauder swallowed his exhaustion, forcing himself to move forward as the surrounding others charged forward.

    The troop of marauders made their way up the shore, fighting stray orcs and goblin archers who tried to keep them at bay. Yet they stood no chance as the raiders came upon them. Gustus felt how his arm was growing slower and heavier with every swing. His muscles begged for rest, yet the marauder ignored the pain. He had no time to stop. As Gustus moved past the treeline of the island, more arrows came upon him. He and his group raised their shields to block them. Gustus raised his shield and successfully blocked one.

    However, this arrow was not the same as the ones on the beach. The enormous arrowhead pierced the wood, grazing the man¡¯s arm and nearly taking out Gustus¡¯ eye. He was still the lucky one. The marauder next to him didn¡¯t block in time and soon got a spear sized arrow in the sternum, his voice dying in his throat as he fell back.

    ¡°Orc archers!¡± Ivana shouted out, warning the group of marauders that were right behind the troop. ¡°Get back!¡± She called out to Gustus and the rest. The men did as told, taking strides back to the treeline. He watched as Ivana turned to the sky. ¡°Eli! Take them out!¡± Her command seemed to have fallen on deaf ears, as nothing happened for the first minute. However, it soon received a response in the form of a loud humming.

    Gustus wasn¡¯t sure what was happening until he saw it. Rustling beyond the bushes were shadows, it seemed. He squinted, but couldn¡¯t make it out. They looked almost like smoke. Mere moments after he spotted this, sounds suddenly emanated from the forest. Loud thuds and the sound of flesh being pierced. There were half screams and shouts, but they soon subsided. After a tense moment, an ethereal voice whispered in Gustus¡¯ ear,

    ¡°They¡¯re dead. Keeping moving.¡±

    ¡°You heard him! Keep moving!¡± Ivana shouted. With that, the marauders were back in action. They all ran through the forest, passing over the bodies of orcs and goblins. Gustus could see how these greenskins had what looked like puncture holes in their torsos, the wounds almost supernatural. Still, he didn¡¯t dare question it. He ran with all his strength, hoping to get through with this day.

    Soon enough, they would all reach a clearing. This time, they finally came across the outpost. Unfortunately, they were far from over. They had simply reached the outpost¡¯s palisade, where the orcs attempted to hold yet another line. Gustus braced himself for another frontal assault, but stopped as soon as Ivana raised a commanding fist. He furrowed his brow, wondering if they were going to wait for the rest of the men to catch up. He was about to ask, but stopped as soon as he saw what Ivana was looking at.

    Deimos stood in front of the line of orcs, his plate armor covered in blood. There was no doubt in Gustus¡¯ mind that none of it belonged to the chieftain. It was clear that the man had no trouble getting through the forest. The Red Death was casually pacing in the clearing, his focus on that of the palisade¡¯s gate. The orcs would not advance, but they were certainly not going to make the first move. They all shifted uncomfortably, their axes and spears shaking slightly.

    ¡°Where is your leader?¡± The chieftain asked suddenly. The orcs all stood their ground, not saying a single word.

    ¡°Silent, are we?¡± Deimos chuckled. ¡°I thought it was an orc tradition for leaders to fight each other to the death?¡±

    The orcs remained silent.

    ¡°I see. You have a coward for a leader.¡± Deimos shook his head in disappointment. Those words seemed to do it.

    One orc stepped out of formation, his scowl visible underneath his helmet. ¡°Shut it! You have no right speaking such shite about our leader!¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Deimos tilted his head in response. ¡°Is that a challenge? Quite some balls you have. More so than your brothers back on that beach.¡± The chieftain laughed.

    ¡°Why you fuckin¨C!¡±

    ¡°Poruk! Stand down!¡± The orc tensed up at the command, his head lowering in a moment¡¯s notice. Gustus looked at the source of the voice. His gaze focused on the palisade¡¯s gates, which were opening up to allow someone to pass. Gustus held his breath as he watched an amalgamation of armor and bones step out into the clearing. Upon closer inspection, it was an orc, this one much taller and bigger than the others. It even towered over Deimos by half a meter.

    Behind the armor, Gustus could spot the snarling expression this orc had. One of its eyes was a milky white, a remnant from a past battle, it seemed. Scars riddled exposed biceps and fungal deformities were poking out of gaps in the armor. The orc looked more ogre than its own kind. The armored orc stared down at Deimos with an intimidating look. Any ordinary man would¡¯ve folded at the sight. Deimos, on the other hand, had no visible reaction.

    Gustus squinted, trying to spot what the chieftain¡¯s expression was underneath his crude helmet. It was hard to see beyond the abyss of the horned helmet. The bone helm had its face guard covering the lower face, making it near impossible to see his reaction. Still, Gustus could spot the man¡¯s eyes beyond the T visor.

    Deimos was amused. No fear or hesitation. He looked completely in control. That made Gustus more nervous. What was he planning to do?

    ¡®He¡¯s not going to challenge that monster to a duel, is he?¡¯

    Gustus swallowed hard. He knew Deimos was strong, but he had heard the stories of orcs. Stronger than strong. Tougher than tough. They used to rule over most of the south before the barbarians drove them out. Even then, the stories claim the orcs did not go without a fight. They brutalized humans, ate them, and even used them for their own entertainment. They were vile creatures, spawns of the dark gods of old.

    Still, Gustus only had to see the reactions of the other marauders to truly understand the situation. Surprisingly, Ivana was completely calm. Her sword was lowered, her eyes locked on the Red Death. Yet no worry came over her expression. She simply watched. Why wasn¡¯t she freaking out? Gustus swore she was supposed to be Deimos¡¯ right hand. His sword. The one who was supposed to defend him. All she was doing was watching the ordeal, almost as if it was out of her power to do anything.

    Some of the older marauders even relaxed, their glances and expressions the same as Ivana. Gustus looked back to the Red Death and the orc, his head filled with confusion. How much faith did they have in that man?

    ¡°I take it you¡¯re the one they call Blood-Irk?¡± Deimos suddenly asked. His gauntlet gestured to the orc¡¯s armor, which was ordained with red war paint that depicted foreign lettering and runic symbols. Teeth and bone were decorated everywhere, some showcasing leftover blood. The sound they made was enough to make Gustus shiver.

    ¡°I am his second in command. Blood-Kro,¡± the orc answered. ¡°And I am more than enough for you, ¡®Red Death¡¯.¡± It said the infamous name with disgust and pity.

    ¡°Blood-Kro?¡± Deimos questioned. He chuckled. ¡°I see. He sent the weaker brother in his stead.¡± The chieftain sighed. ¡°Clever for a savage.¡±

    ¡°Silence!¡± Blood-Kro roared. ¡°Mere human. I have killed many like you. Oblivious. Cocky. You are no different than the tribe leaders from the southern lands. They too thought they had strength.¡± The orc gave an ugly smile. ¡°In the end, they begged for their lives. You will not be different.¡±

    Deimos only stared at the orc, the expression in his eyes changing from amused to serious. The mere change in emotion rocked Gustus to his core. He only felt danger emanating from the armored man.

    ¡°Is that right?¡± Deimos asked. There was no more interest in his voice. Only cold fury. Gustus had remembered the crucial advice Ivana had given to him during his training. Deimos¡¯ anger was a danger to avoid. To anger him would forfeit your life. Gustus was about to find out the extent of this.

    The orc reacted with a step back, its face contorting into a dangerous grin. It took a stance, its hand pulling its club from its holster. The club was not like anything Gustus had seen. It was flat, like a board, yet thicker than a mace. Steel points lined its edge and decorative carvings were made on its flat side. The marauder recalled the style similar to the barbarians from the badlands.

    ¡°Are you ready for the embrace of death, human?¡±

    Deimos readied his ax, his stance almost casual. ¡°There are horrors far worse than death, savage,¡± he began, his grin growing slightly. ¡°Let me show you a glimpse.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 27: The Gnomes Offer

    Falrick tightened the bag he held. He made sure it was tied securely, almost as if he wanted to seal its contents.

    ¡°Well?¡± Lowe asked from across the room.

    Falrick moved to rub at his hurting wrists, which were still numb from the effects of the shackles. ¡°It should be thrown into the abyssal sea. Where no one can find it. Just like they should¡¯ve done years ago,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°You know it won¡¯t work,¡± Lowe said.

    The Wizard could only curse in response. ¡°Damn Delphine! Damn her acolytes!¡± That goddess could not leave well enough alone. Despite having half a century of peace, the deity had to seek out what was not her business. Because of her, Azurvale and Valenfrost were on the verge of another perpetual war.

    ¡°What do we do?¡± The gnome asked.

    ¡°We can try to disguise it once more. Give it an enchantment to cloud its magic,¡± Falrick suggested. The Wizard quickly cursed at himself again. ¡°No¡­ That won¡¯t work. It didn¡¯t work before.¡± He looked down at the bag. ¡°This is bad Lowe. This is a problem.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡±

    ¡°Do you have any idea what kind of risk we are? What if someone finds it?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I wanted to show you this. With Yorn dead, the marauders have a means to find it!¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Falrick shook his head. ¡°The marauders can¡¯t find it.¡±

    ¡°But the crystal?¡±

    ¡°That crystal only points to Einar¡¯s piece,¡± Falrick explained. ¡°It hasn¡¯t worked for years either way, so there¡¯s no danger that the marauders picked it up.¡±

    ¡°Wait.¡± Lowe stepped up. ¡°You mean his piece can¡¯t be detected? How did he manage that?¡± The gnome moved to sit on the chair across from Falrick.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± the Wizard muttered.

    Einar was a man who had once faithfully served beside Yorn from before the Outsider War. He had helped Yorn win the fight against Kjor, cementing the younger Halvorson as the new face of the bear clan. Einar had been so trusted that he had been given an artifact to keep safe.

    Of course, Yorn had it tracked via a special spell crystal the Wizard crafted. It was supposed to bounce the magic it emitted back to the crystal, tracking it and Einar. Yet decades ago, a couple years before the Outsider Wars, the crystal had fallen dead, signifying that it could no longer detect the artifact. Falrick back then had tried everything to find out what happened to it. No matter what he did, he could not find it, nor could he find Einar. It was a mystery back then and it still perplexed Falrick¡¯s mind. The artifact Einar had was similar to another in Yorn¡¯s possession, kept safely to prevent the wicked from taking it.

    ¡°Whatever happened to Einar, it took him with it.¡± The Wizard sighed. ¡°He¡¯s been gone for decades. Same with the artifact. Possibly for good.¡± Falrick felt the bag in his hands, feeling the cat statue inside. ¡°I just wish I knew how he did it¡­¡± Even without looking at the statue, he knew that the rune on its back was currently glowing. A sign that it was in fact what Lowe and he feared.

    The statue in the bag was a piece of Bartholomew¡¯s Shrine, a cursed object that tore apart history. Almost everyone knew of its story but rarely anyone knew of what happened to it. Not even Falrick knew exactly what happened. All he knew was that the shrine was in pieces and they were all spread apart across Valenfrost and Azruevale.

    Even if Einar had gotten rid of one of the artifacts, Falrick was sure that the shrine would still work regardless of one small piece. It was a magical anomaly, something beyond the gods themselves. He looked at the bag once more.

    ¡°I can cast its illusion spell again, but it won¡¯t stop those who already have it tracked. Unless it''s in an enchanted vault, it is discoverable through high level scrying,¡± Falrick explained. ¡°Maybe if we go back to Aldren. Perhaps I can repair the vault to its original state. Then we can keep this thing hidden.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that will be possible,¡± Lowe nervously said.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°The vault is¡­ no more.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Falrick stared in disbelief at Lowe.

    ¡°A mercenary triggered an explosion to allow our escape¡­ It was also partly the reason why the island was set aflame.¡±

    ¡°Unbelievable¡­¡± Falrick couldn¡¯t process what the gnome was saying. ¡°Is it really destroyed?¡±

    ¡°Not entirely. The entrance was destroyed and the roof may have caved in, but half the vault is still there,¡± Lowe explained. He tried to make it sound as if the vault was simply a vase that could be put together with sap and gold.

    Falrick rubbed his eyes in frustration. ¡°You fucking blew it to pieces and you expect me to wave my hands to fix it all?¡±

    ¡°Well¨C¡±

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Silence. I¡¯ve heard enough,¡± Falrick sighed heavily. The vault was valuable, even if it was empty it still held magic that was important to the Wizard. ¡°Maybe it can be repaired,¡± he uttered in a breath, contradicting everything he had said prior. Lowe opened his mouth to say something but wisely chose not to. It was a correct move, as Falrick was in the middle of his thoughts, a process that he rather not have interrupted.

    ¡°If enough of it survived.¡± He was speaking to himself mainly, but he also wanted Lowe¡¯s input.

    ¡°The foundation is still there.¡± Lowe spoke up. ¡°Last I saw of it, before the burning started,¡± he added meekly.

    Falrick still nodded. ¡°If the foundation¡¯s still there, it can be restored.¡± The Wizard thought up the plans he would have to form. The alignment of the ley lines. The reforming of the enchantments and the reintegration of rune protection. ¡°Yes¡­¡± He rubbed at his chin in thought, nodding and muttering to himself.

    Falrick nodded once more. ¡°It looks as if I will stay with you and your raven clan for the time being,¡± the Wizard spoke out.

    ¡°You¡¯ll stay?¡± Lowe asked.

    ¡°For the time being,¡± Falrick reiterated. ¡°I need to contain the artifact and make sure that the fail safes are idiot proof. After that, I¡¯ll take my leave.¡± Despite the news that the Wizard was only staying temporarily, Lowe looked as if he was going to jump for joy. ¡°Don¡¯t smirk like an idiot, gnome. I¡¯ll only be here acting on my own volition. I won¡¯t take orders and I won¡¯t follow your leader like a blind fool.¡±

    Lowe nodded. ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± The Wizard let out a breath of exhaustion. ¡°Now then, let¡¯s get your shaman in here so I can set my terms.¡± With that, Lowe headed off to the hut¡¯s door, leaving Falrick alone inside. The Wizard took a look around, his eyes settling on the banner that hung nearby. He had seen it many times throughout the town, but now was the first time he was actually examining it.

    The white raven was starting to look more and more intimidating. Falrick wasn¡¯t sure why, but he felt a terrifying familiar aura from it. Its crude nature reminded him of Yorn''s original coat of arms. The symbol of the bear¡¯s roaring maw had once been intimidating and fear provoking. It was only after Yorn settled down that he changed it to a simple bear paw.

    The Wizard couldn¡¯t help but get a sense of wistfulness whenever he looked around Yorktown''s current state. It was like a spitting image of Halvorson¡¯s roots, back when Yorn was building his base in Svendgard. Despite only seeing James Holter from a distance, he could see the similarities with the late Yorn. Crazy and determined. Aldren was the first sign and the battle at the harbor was confirmation that the man was something much more interesting. Falrick couldn¡¯t place it, but it reminded him of the old Jarls. The ones that ruled before the Outsider War. The Wizard doubted he would ever work for him, but he could still see himself advising the young man, not unlike he did for Yorn.

    Falrick chuckled. Holter was an interesting case, yes, but so were many others. Many had come before, showcasing his level of recklessness and luck. The reason why no one had ever reached the Yorn, outside of a select few, was because most died before they could be recognized.

    The Wizard believed that Holter was no exception.

    <hr>

    Deimos wiped the blood from his mouth, the bruises of his knuckles and face swelling slightly from the pain. Yet he could only laugh.

    ¡°Crazy bastard!¡± He shouted in glee. Deimos reached forward and grabbed the deformed head of Blood-Kro, forcing the downed orc up to his knees. ¡°You could¡¯ve killed me with that!¡± Deimos kicked the orc¡¯s dismembered hand, which was smoking and twitching. It had just casted an Arcane Bolt, something that nearly took half of Deimos¡¯ exposed head.

    ¡°Smart move. Keeping your castings as a last resort. Unfortunately, you underestimate me once more.¡± Deimos reached for his ax, which had half its length gone. Still, the Red Death could wield it like the weapon it always was.

    Blood-Kro spat into the ground, his breathing growing heavier by the second. ¡°Finish me. I am a failure to my name and a traitor to my brethren.¡±

    ¡°Not just yet.¡± Deimos used his ax¡¯s head to lift up the orc¡¯s chin. ¡°Where is your brother? Blood-Irk.¡±

    ¡°I do not know.¡±

    ¡°Quit the shit slopping out your lips. Where is Blood-Irk?¡±

    Blood-Kro¡¯s eyes flashed hesitantly. Still, he spoke. ¡°Last I remember, he told me he was going to the southern edge. Valenfrost¡¯s border, he says.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Deimos demanded.

    The orc gritted his teeth. ¡°He wants to find the one who commands Dremor¡¯s damned. The one who burned the hidden island. Blood-Irk wants his head.¡±

    ¡°His head,¡± Deimos repeated. ¡°Is he going to attack this man soon?¡±

    Blood-Kro did not answer. As a result, the chieftain placed his thumb over the orc¡¯s milky eye. He pressed hard. The orc struggled but he was too weak to properly fight back. Deimos pressed until the eye made a satisfying ¡®pop¡¯. Blood-Kro screamed in pain as white pus and fluid erupted from the socket. It stained Deimos¡¯ gauntlet, the fluid running down and mixing with blood.

    ¡°He¡¯s not going to attack! He told me he was going to survey the south and make a base around the western islands!¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Deimos asked, his other thumb going for the orc¡¯s remaining eye.

    ¡°Yes! Yes! I am certain!¡±

    Deimos sighed and pulled away, his hand lowering. He looked at his surroundings. Orcs and humans alike watched on, their faces contorted into fear, shock, and disgust. The Red Death chuckled at the audience.

    ¡°How does it feel, Blood-Kro? To be made an example of and to be seen as nothing more than a pathetic failure?¡± Deimos asked.

    The orc didn¡¯t respond. He only clenched his jaw and started at the floor in shame. Deimos knew that the crippled greenskin wouldn¡¯t be able to fight back. Not with both his hands gone and his leg broken.

    Deimos rotated his neck, the bruises on his face and body insignificant. He had taken damage of course, what man wouldn¡¯t during a duel? The only difference between him and Blood-Kro however, was that Deimos only had temporary wounds, while the orc had life threatening damage that would certainly kill him if the marauder didn¡¯t finish him off. In a way, he was doing the savage a mercy.

    Deimos raised his ax. ¡°Any last words?¡±

    The orc looked up at him. He scowled. ¡°I can only wish that your death comes painfully and everlasting. When the boatman drags you to Dremor¡¯s domain, I can only hope that it will be painful.¡±

    To that, the Red Death only smirked. He brought down the ax, finally decapitating the orc and ending him in an instance.

    As the head of Blood-Kro rolled, Deimos looked to the orcs by the gate. He spat the blood in his mouth. ¡°Marauders! Kill off the rest of these disgusting creatures.¡±

 Interlude: The Outlanders

    Gwenyth felt how the ship rocked, its movements disorienting enough to make anyone sick. Yet it did nothing to phase her. She had simply gotten used to it. William, on the other hand, hadn¡¯t gotten used to it. He still looked pale and sickly, his eyes closed as he tried to will the sickness away. Yet he continued to turn to his recently emptied bucket. Gwenyth ignored him, her focus on the man who sat across from her. Arthur was stone faced, his gaze fixed on the elf.

    ¡°Are you going to speak?¡± Gwenyth asked. ¡°You owe us an explanation.¡±

    The elf and herald were the only ones below the deck with Arthur. Eilif and the rest of the men were above, awaiting to be called back.

    ¡°I don¡¯t owe you a damn thing,¡± Arthur responded coldly.

    Gwenyth scowled. ¡°Three hundred years. Three hundred years in this world and I have never seen something as twisted as on that island.¡±

    ¡°You think I knew what we were going to find?¡± Arthur asked.

    ¡°No.¡± The elf shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think you knew about the extent of it. But I know you know something. You know why this is happening. You know its cause. Explain. Now.¡± Gwenyth slammed a fist on the table, shaking William¡¯s bucket and causing a nearby tankard to roll off the table¡¯s edge.

    Arthur stared at the elf for a moment, each passing second feeling like an eternity. Finally, he spoke.

    ¡°This is something beyond our control.¡± Arthur closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. ¡°Beyond what we know. Not even the golden goddess knows what it is.¡±

    ¡°The goddess?¡± Gwenyth furrowed her brow.

    ¡°Not to speak ill of her holiness, but Delphine is practically panicking in her heavenly temple,¡± Arthur explained. ¡°The clerics are trying their best to fulfill her wishes, to fix this. They think they know what it is, but I seriously doubt it.¡± The former apostle brought up his sheathed blade and placed it on the table. ¡°This is the blade Delphine bestowed upon me.¡±

    Arthur proceeded to unsheathed the sword, revealing its golden edge and imprinted runes.

    ¡°This¡­ This isn¡¯t..?¡± Gwenyth started, her eyes examining the beautiful engravings and ivory hilt.

    ¡°It¡¯s only a fragment of the real sword,¡± Arthur revealed. ¡°Delphine wouldn¡¯t entrust me with the real one. You are a silver-haired elf, right? Read the runes yourself.¡±

    Gwenyth looked at the sword. Aside from the enchanted runes, there were words that were inscribed on it. Written in a dead language once spoken long ago, it read:

    Blade of Divine, wielded to slay thy Outlanders to bring back ye peace of pure Azuran

    Gwenyth blinked at the translation. ¡°Outlander.¡±

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    ¡°It means otherworder,¡± Arthur answered. He grabbed the sword, sheathing it once more.

    ¡°I know what it means,¡± Gwenyth muttered. She closed her hands into fists. ¡°Does this mean I think it does?¡± The elf felt her mind go to many things, many possibilities and implications. None of them were good.

    ¡°You knew it was happening. The summonings.¡±

    ¡°I thought they stopped,¡± Gwenyth growled through gritted teeth. ¡°I was told that Myr had been stopped. That the gods prevented him from summoning people.¡±

    ¡°Summoning people?¡± William spoke up finally. ¡°What are you two speaking about?¡± The question reminded Gwenyth that William was the only one in the dark about the situation.

    The elf turned to the herald. ¡°You don¡¯t know, do you?¡± She asked. ¡°For the past century, people from other worlds have been summoned to Azura.¡±

    ¡°Other worlds?¡± William¡¯s face had its color returned. It looked as if he had forgotten about the moving ship. ¡°Aren¡¯t those stories?¡±

    ¡°They were,¡± Gwenyth answered. ¡°That is until the mad god himself started pulling innocent people from other worlds into ours.¡±

    William stared at the two in disbelief. ¡°I¡­What?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to believe,¡± Arthur sighed. ¡°It¡¯s something unthinkable. Impossible to perceive properly.¡± The former apostle rested his arms on the table, his gaze moving to the elf. ¡°The man we are hunting is from another world. One called Earth.¡±

    ¡°How is he here?¡± Gwenyth demanded. ¡°Myr was supposed to be stopped! How was he able to summon this man?¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t,¡± Arthur muttered.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I mean the clerics don¡¯t know how. According to Delphine¡¯s holy message, the man from Earth was not brought upon by the mad god.¡±

    ¡°Something else is summoning people?¡± The elf felt a pit form in her stomach. She could not bear to think about the consequences. ¡°How many?¡± She muttered. ¡°How many Outlanders are in Azura?¡±

    ¡°Three,¡± Arthur responded. ¡°There are only three.¡± The grizzled man sighed. ¡°The one we¡¯re hunting is somewhere in southern Valenfrost. Possibly around the edge. The second is a woman who was summoned to Kasan. Last we heard, she fled that continent, but I don¡¯t doubt we can track her down. The third¡­¡± Arthur seemed to hesitate a bit. He broke eye contact, his gaze moving to his drink. ¡°It¡¯s classified.¡±

    ¡°What are you going to do about them? What¡¯s Delphine¡¯s plan of action?¡± Gwenyth questioned. She had a bad feeling about what Arthur was about to say.

    ¡°Delphine believes that if they continue to live, they¡¯ll forever corrupt the world. The ley lines breaking was proof enough that Outlanders don¡¯t belong here,¡± Arthur explained.

    ¡°So we kill them?¡± Gwenyth felt disgusted towards the golden goddess. ¡°Can¡¯t she send them back to their worlds?¡±

    ¡°Of course she can. However, Delphine worries that sending the Earthlings back to Earth would only offset the balance in their own world,¡± Arthur revealed. ¡°You see, unlike Azura, Earth¡¯s divinities are long gone. No gods to govern them like on Azura. Sending magically powered beings there would only upset the balance.¡±

    Gwenyth bit her tongue, holding back the urge to curse the goddess¡¯ name. ¡°So death it is? No other option?¡±

    Arthur scowled at the elf. ¡°You, of all people, should understand the necessity of this.¡±

    ¡°I understand that there should be a peaceful way of doing this,¡± Gwenyth argued.

    The former apostle sighed at that before he stood from the table. He grabbed his sword, sheathing the blade. ¡°The peaceful option was thrown out once the ley lines were fractured,¡± Arthur muttered. He turned around, his back facing the elf. ¡°Complain if you want. Question my ways if it makes you feel better. I don¡¯t care. I¡¯ll do what I can to make sure this world¡¯s balance is set right once more.¡±

    With that, Arthur left, leaving Gwenyth with a twisting, sick feeling that she had not felt in decades.

 B.3 Chapter 28: Southward

    4

    The Search for Answers

    <hr>

    Elaine peeked from her hiding spot, her eyes focused on the man who had caught her interests all those months ago. This man was currently conversing with another of his companions, the veteran, it seemed. The young woman couldn¡¯t hear a thing at this distance, but she didn¡¯t dare get closer. The last time she did, she nearly blew her cover. That resulted in her being much more careful, resigning herself to watching from a safer distance. Thankfully, she had someone who could hear in their conversations.

    ¡°What are they saying, Barton?¡± She whispered to the elf behind her, who was doing his best to focus.

    ¡°Asking me that question every five seconds is not going to help,¡± Barton huffed. Elaine frowned, but didn¡¯t argue.

    ¡°They¡¯re talking about Malik again,¡± Barton muttered. He creased his brow. ¡°Who¡¯s Malik?¡±

    ¡°Someone they recruited a couple of weeks ago,¡± Elaine answered. ¡°I¡¯ve only seen him twice, but he gives me the creeps.¡± The young woman moved to set her sights on the group once more. ¡°What else?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re debating on whether Malik should come back to Yorktown. The older one, Harald, wants nothing more than to kill the ¡®damned helspawn¡¯ while James wants Malik¡¯s help to find¡­¡± Barton frowned, ¡°to find an ¡®Iendis¡¯.¡±

    That caused Elaine¡¯s expression to change into confusion. ¡°Iendis? The demi-goddess?¡±

    ¡°You know who she is?¡± Barton asked.

    ¡°Know her? I¡¯ve sung and written iliads and songs about her cultists before.¡± Elaine explained. She tapped at her lute, which hung on her back. She had studied and read about the ones who worshiped the daughter of Myr years back when she was first starting out as a bard. Back then, she had thought they were interesting enough to write and sing about.

    She had soon found out the hard way that such topics were unfavorable among the general populace. Anytime Elaine sang about them, crowds would disperse and people would avoid her like the plague. She had stopped singing about them after realizing that bards did not make a living singing solely about crazy cultists and mad gods.

    ¡°Well, whoever Iendis is, James wants to find her,¡± Barton explained. ¡°Harald doesn¡¯t think it¡¯s wise to go searching on a whim. He says that they should rethink.¡±

    Elaine turned to look at the arguing men, her focus on James. The blond man had been her sole focus these past weeks. Ever since he landed in Vindis, Elaine immediately recognized him. She recalled seeing him during his first stay, back when he was with that shaman woman. The minute Elaine set eyes on him, she knew something was up.

    The young woman recalled her lessons back in the academy, back when she was learning the arts and exploring the career path of a bard. To make a good living, bards had to set their eyes on the amazing and interesting. While many bards could make decent coin singing about the boring virtues of the world and children''s fables, there was more gold and fame in warrior stories. Especially powerful warriors.

    Elaine knew from the moment she saw James that he had the makings of a legendary warrior. Mysterious? Check. Handsome? Once she trims off that excess hair, he would be golden. Check. Strong? The man had confronted the mysterious Thieves Guild and lived. He had also given off a dangerous aura whenever Elaine got too close. Double check! All the bard had to do was know his story. Once she knew what crappy little town he was from and the tragic origins of his past, Elaine was sure she could spin this man¡¯s story into a living legend. That is, if he survived long enough for her to get some content.

    ¡°You can¡¯t approach him normally?¡± Barton asked.

    ¡°He¡¯ll reject my offer, no matter what I say,¡± Elaine sighed. Other than his name, the bard had little to no information on the strange man. James was careful with his words and speech, his mannerisms showing that he was always on edge. Elaine had to recruit the likes of Barton, who had the skill ¡®Wind Perception¡¯, which allowed him to pick up on the slightest sounds from far away. It was also perfect for listening in on distant conversations. With the elf¡¯s help, Elaine could piece together what little she knew of James.

    ¡°He¡¯s too self contained. Too secretive. I doubt he¡¯ll even listen to my proposal,¡± Elaine whispered.

    ¡°So, how do you plan to get him to agree?¡±

    ¡°Easy. I saw him visit Tahir¡¯s tent a couple of times these last two weeks.¡± Elaine gestured towards the direction of the docks. ¡°He¡¯s planning to revitalize the economy of his town by changing trade routes of Tahir¡¯s merchant ships so they can pass by the island.¡±

    The elf raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°How would that revitalize their economy?¡± Barton questioned.

    ¡°That¡¯s the problem James is facing,¡± Elaine revealed. Before she recruited Barton, the bard had listened in on James¡¯ problem with what he could use to get money. The options were, to say the least, not the best business ideas.

    ¡°He¡¯s planning to brew moonshine with that dwarf, to sell off to the traders.¡±

    ¡°Not a bad idea, but that could be problematic,¡± Barton muttered. ¡°The alcohol trade is not a friendly route. It¡¯s a crowded business in Vindis. Redyr and Olafson hold a majority of the sales and bars around here.¡±

    Elaine nodded in agreement. ¡°Which is why I¡¯ll offer to help him,¡± the bard boasted. ¡°When he hears my offer, he¡¯ll have no choice but to accept.¡± Her plan for coin was flawless, and it involved the greatest talent she knew. Herself.

    Barton narrowed his eyes. ¡°What kind of plan is this, Elaine?¡±

    ¡°Why would I tell you? You¡¯ll probably run to James with it and steal my chance.¡±

    ¡°I doubt I will.¡±

    Elaine sighed. ¡°If you really want to know¡­¡± She brought out her lute, stringing a couple of notes to prepare her reveal. ¡°I shall sing and act out his story in a play!¡±

    ¡°A play?¡± Barton made a face. He looked as if he was stabbed in the foot.

    ¡°Yes, a play.¡± Elaine frowned at the elf¡¯s reaction. ¡°Back at the academy, we did plays of old heroes, such as Gerald the Burnt, Matthew the Great, and Jenis the Conqueror. They were wildly popular, and we gained hundreds of watchers for every one!¡±

    ¡°So?¡±

    ¡°So, they made coin!¡± Elaine explained. ¡°We got a haul of valdoras and golden coins for every play we did!¡± The bard made a gesture, making it look like she was holding a crate of golden coins.

    ¡°If you made so much, why are you here in Vindis?¡± Barton asked. ¡°This city isn¡¯t exactly Haven or Norum.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ Most of the proceeds went to the academy,¡± Elaine admitted. ¡°I only came here because I thought perhaps I could find someone interesting.¡±

    ¡°Makes sense,¡± Barton sighed. ¡°You really think people in Valenfrost would be as interested in these ¡®plays¡¯ as much as those rich assholes in Lumen City?¡± As the elf asked his question, the bard noted how James was moving once more. It looked like he was heading to that Wizard¡¯s place again.

    ¡°Entertainment is a widely sought thing, Barton,¡± Elaine responded as she moved. She slung her lute behind her back. ¡°The people here just don¡¯t know it yet.¡±

    <hr>

    James rubbed at the bandaged wound on his left shoulder, which still stung every once in a while. Despite it being two weeks, his so-called ¡®healing factor¡¯ was taking its sweet time healing the wounds on his body. His body ached and the cuts from his fight with Seamus and Harald were still present.

    ¡°How are your wounds holding up?¡± Harald asked.

    ¡°Fine I guess,¡± James muttered. ¡°They still hurt and my ribs still keep me up at night.¡± He kicked a piece of trash into the nearby canal. ¡°This is confusing. When I fought that abomination during the Frost solstice, my injuries were worse. Yet they still healed faster than the ones I have now.¡± James tapped at his bandaged head, a result of that fight with the veteran.

    ¡°Dahlia isn¡¯t here to heal your wounds anymore,¡± Harald pointed out. ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s why your wounds aren¡¯t healing as fast.¡±

    ¡°That might actually be it,¡± James muttered, his brow furrowing.

    ¡®That and the fact that the only nourishment we¡¯ve had these past weeks was beer and shitty soup from that tavern,¡¯ Faust complained.

    ¡®Quit complaining. You knew we had to eat like this since we got here. We¡¯re down to two valdora pieces and a handful of silver. Being cheap is our only option.¡¯ James reminded the spirit. Money was tight and James did not want to blow his last two valdoras when he had an entire alcohol business to start up.

    ¡°Do you think my business idea will work?¡± James asked Bjorn, who was nearby.

    ¡°There¡¯s a good chance it¡¯ll earn us some coin. The stuff I brew knocks even dwarves off their asses.¡± The dwarf chuckled.

    That prompted a response from the veteran. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter how good it is. If you plan to sell in Vindis, forget about it.¡±

    James looked at the grizzled old man. ¡°Why do you say that?¡±

    ¡°The alcohol business here is cutthroat. Olafson and Redyr already have stock in it and the Thieves Guild move their own stuff,¡± Harald explained.

    ¡°We can still hold our own,¡± Bjorn spoke up.

    The veteran raised an eyebrow. ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°Believe me, the ¡®beer¡¯ those thieves move.¡± Bjorn made a disgusted face. ¡°It¡¯s more like piss water. Might as well be drinking from a latrine.¡±

    ¡°How would you know?¡± James prodded.

    ¡°Drank it when I was held prisoner by Markov. To where I compared it with skavdka.¡± The dwarf shuddered. ¡°Sure as hell not as bad as that cursed drink, but it¡¯s still too watered down to be worth drinking.¡±

    ¡°So you plan to compete with those thieves¡¯ alcohol business? We¡¯ve already pissed them off once. Doing it again is not a wise choice,¡± Harald muttered.

    ¡°Who said anything about competing?¡± James spoke up. An idea formed in his head. ¡°We can have them move our product. If their stuff is as bad as Bjorn puts it, then his product would be an improvement, right?¡±

    Harald stopped for a moment. He looked genuinely surprised at the suggestion. ¡°That can work. But¡­¡± He frowned. ¡°You would have to produce a ship¡¯s worth of it. Transport it to the city and make sure no bandits try anything,¡± Harald pointed out. ¡°Bjorn has already explained that a barrel costs around six gold to produce. We barely have enough for half of one.¡± That had put a downer on things. James was actually feeling pretty excited about those few seconds of enlightenment.

    ¡°So we need another source of money?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Obviously. I doubt fighting bandits will be enough to pay for this business idea of yours.¡±

    The blond man rubbed at his tired eyes. ¡°Maybe when we get back to Yorktown, we¡¯ll figure something out. Until then, we should wrap things up here.¡± James and his friends were preparing to leave the floating city, as they had gotten what they needed.

    Well, mostly. James still needed to figure out a way to make money off the traders coming to Yorktown. Harald had already explained to him that traders simply coming to the marketplace would not be enough. James needed to have a business or surefire way of making coin. It was why the young man had come up to form an alcohol business venture with Bjorn.

    Still, that idea needed more time to set up. As of the moment, James had to finish his business in Vindis. He already visited Tahir earlier that day and talked at length with the Arenian about the possibilities of using James¡¯ own forces as protection for the merchant ships. Obviously, James did not let the man know about how his forces consisted of a drunken dwarf and a handful of orcs and humans.

    Nathan¡¯s shop was next on the list. Seamus was already over there, checking in with the Wizard. James made him go, as he wanted Seamus examined by Nathan. While not a doctor, Nathan still had knowledge about the human body and mind, making him cheaper than one and much more accessible. Lilith was also with him, since the berserker refused to leave his side. James guessed Lilith saw something during her time under the witch¡¯s dream spell, as the redhead acted much more docile and reserved than usual. She even stopped speaking with her hand signs.

    James hoped that the both of them were doing alright. It was important for him that his friends were ok and not trickling over the edge of sanity. As he pondered about them, a sound from afar caught his attention. The pathway the men were on was empty, at least that what they initially thought. James turned around, his gaze on the nearby alley. While no sound or movement came. James felt the eerie sensation that he was being watched. He grabbed at his sword¡¯s hilt. His thoughts debated on whether to investigate. Before he could make a choice, a cat jumped out of the shadows, knocking over pots and buckets. That made the young jump, earning a laugh from the dwarf.

    ¡°Shit your pants didn¡¯t you!¡± Bjorn guffawed.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± James muttered. He turned back around, sighing as the cat ran past his legs. It leaped down to one of the lower platforms, turning into an alleyway and disappearing. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here. Daylight¡¯s burning,¡± James called to Harald and Bjorn. He didn¡¯t want to admit it, but that cat nearly made James unleash the power of one of his newest spells. It was a casting he learned without the help of a shaman or Wizard, one that he learned just a couple days ago when he was practicing his cryomancy.

    Yet he kept it to himself, knowing that it needed much more practice before he could fully use it. As of now, the casting had fifty-fifty chances of failing. When it did work, it was pathetically weak. James had to practice some more, which was why he was heading to Nathan¡¯s place. He already grabbed the Power Strike casting from the Wizard, so it would be awkward to explain why he needed to study another casting that didn¡¯t require rune imprinting. Still, James needed to learn more, specifically his cryomancy.

    His left arm had always been iffy when it came to casting ice magic. There was an obvious limit whenever he had used it to freeze and form ice, the result being that of James¡¯ own stamina being consumed to the point of exhaustion.

    James recalled the spells Gryff had used back when they had fought. If he could just master one of them, it would tip the scales of battles to his favor. However, he had no idea how to get better with his cryomancy, nor did he ever seem to improve on it, regardless of how many times he practiced forming ice.

    Perhaps Nathan had a spell tome specifically for this type of magic. The Wizard¡¯s shop didn¡¯t seem understocked in the least. James had some hope that the eccentric man would have something useful.

    <hr>

    ¡°Unbelievable!¡± Nathan¡¯s voice echoed out in the room, his excitement overflowing. Seamus could only watch as the Wizard inspected his arm. ¡°You have magic flowing in you, Seamus! When did you activate these ley lines?¡± He lowered the arm, his spectacles on the edge of falling off.

    Seamus scratched at his head. ¡°Magic? What are you¡­?¡±

    ¡°Wait, did you not know this? Seamus, your ley lines are active!¡±

    ¡°Active? As in, he could learn castings?¡± James spoke up from behind. He had arrived in the shop not too long ago and had asked the Wizard about the situation with Seamus.

    Seamus was as confused and surprised as James, his mind trying to go back to when he had his ley lines inspected. Yet no memory came of it.

    ¡°Could? James, Seamus has castings!¡± Nathan¡¯s words confused Seamus even more. He had castings? That was impossible. The young man had only trained in sword fighting. Castings were out of his league. Yet the Wizard spoke about them like they¡¯ve always been there.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°One physical casting, two spells.¡± Nathan held up three fingers.

    ¡°That can¡¯t be¡­¡± Seamus protested. ¡°I¡¯ve trained in fighting, not magic! I have no memory of getting any of these spells!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s there Seamus. I¡¯m not sure what they are specifically, but they¡¯re there.¡± Nathan said. ¡°Here, hold this.¡±

    The Wizard pulled out a small glass vial, the liquid inside it a light blue color. Seamus cautiously took the vial, holding it between his fingers. It felt oily and unnaturally cold. The young man held it for a moment, expecting it to explode or something. Nothing happened.

    Nathan frowned. ¡°Try focusing on it. Your ley lines will converge and use it like a conduit.¡±

    ¡°Alright¡­¡± Seamus took a breath and focused. For a second, nothing happened.

    The vial suddenly glowed, its liquid changing color. Seamus stared at it, watching as the liquid sloshed and turned into a glowing blue. Before he knew, sparks of lightning formed in the vial, crackling and moving along the glass.

    ¡°I knew it!¡± Nathan exclaimed. ¡°Not only do you have the castings, but you also have an affinity for lightning! How exciting is that?¡±

    Seamus could only stare in disbelief. Were his memories that badly fractured? Did that night truly damage his mind to where he forgot he had castings?

    James seemed to notice the young man¡¯s distressed face. ¡°Nathan, not really the time,¡± he muttered to the Wizard.

    Nathan also realized the situation and his excitement died down a bit. ¡°Yes, sorry.¡±

    ¡°How bad is it?¡± James asked the young man.

    ¡°Bad enough that entire sections of my life are gone from my memory,¡± Seamus responded. He tossed the vial to James, who caught it.

    ¡°Not exactly.¡± Nathan pointed out. ¡°While you can¡¯t remember getting those castings, you also forgot your training sessions with your father. Remember what you told me?¡±

    Seamus recalled what he said earlier that day. When he was first explained to Nathan how his blackouts worked, he mentioned the time he fought against Hugo. Seamus had recalled his father¡¯s words, a memory that was blocked until that very moment.

    ¡°Your memories are not gone, Seamus. They are simply repressed. You just need to remember them,¡± the Wizard advised.

    ¡°How can I do that when I don¡¯t even know what I forgot?¡± Seamus asked.

    Nathan took a seat across from Seamus. ¡°That¡¯s the hard part. From what you told me, your memory only comes back during certain situations.¡± The Wizard took a deep breath. ¡°You will need to relive some of those moments. Either that or you have to have James rip those memories out like he did two weeks ago. Still, I¡¯m not even sure if that¡¯s a good idea.¡±

    Seamus shivered at the thought of reliving his past. He had a taste of it with the witch and he did not want to go through it again.

    ¡°What are my castings?¡± He asked, trying to move past the previous topic.

    Nathan frowned but didn¡¯t point it out. ¡°I don¡¯t know what castings you have, but the vial shows that they¡¯re mainly lightning based. Probably because you learned from a Wizard who specializes in it.¡±

    ¡°Wizard?¡± Seamus¡¯ mind clicked. He remembered what Lowe told him a couple of months back.

    ¡°A Wizard. Not just any twiddle fingers, too. I believe Wizard Falrick is still alive and hiding himself among the populace of Yorktown¡¯s people.¡±

    Wizard Falrick must have been the one who taught Seamus his castings. All he needed to do was talk to him.

    ¡°I think I know what I have to do.¡± Seamus stood from his seat.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± James asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever been so sure of something,¡± the young man responded.

    James looked like he was going to argue or protest, but he simply gave a weak smile. ¡°Good. Then let¡¯s get going.¡±

    <hr>

    Gwenyth could see the remnants of a fire in the distance, the dark and pillowing pillar of smoke standing out in the clouded skies of Valenfrost. Buravon was burning, all of its former beauty now gone in a cloud of ash. Its people and whatever remains of those abominations were aflame as well, their deformities and disgusting crystals hopefully nothing but glass. As the elf stared into the distance, footsteps sounded out behind her.

    ¡°It¡¯s still burning,¡± William¡¯s voice muttered. He sounded empty, as if all the joy he had in him was sapped out.

    ¡°Bodies tend to do that,¡± the elf answered.

    ¡°You sound as if this is normal,¡± the herald pointed out.

    ¡°To an extent, this is normal for me.¡± Gwenyth turned to William, who was still staring at the distant island.

    ¡°Does it get easier, then?¡± he asked.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± the elf asked with a raised brow.

    William let out a forced chuckle. ¡°I¡¯ve been fighting for the Lumen Kingdom since I was a young man. Killed men, burned villages. Watched others do the same. It was difficult whenever I came across such horrors.¡± He looked down at the waves of the sea. ¡°I only powered through because of Delphine¡¯s church and my promise to Azlene. Yet, it never lets up. The fighting, the death, all of it.¡± William¡¯s hands ran across his face, like he was trying to wipe the visage from his sight. ¡°For someone like you, an immortal, does it ever get easy?¡±

    Gwenyth thought about the question. She pondered it longer than she should¡¯ve. Her thoughts went back to her younger years, back when she was still na?ve. When she fought against the armies of Dorinfal, or when she lost her arm during the first fall of Lumen City. Horrors of war and men had always shaken her to her core. No matter what side she was on or which mad man she fought, Gwenyth always had to deal with the same thing. Innocents getting in the way of it all. When she thought she had gotten used to it all, she was always proven wrong. This abomination was no different, and it scared her.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Gwenyth finally muttered her answer. ¡°What you have to understand, William, is that the world will always get under your skin. Sometimes you slowly get used to it and you expect it.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°But if you do that, the horrors of this world will only try harder to break you.¡± Gwenyth turned to face William.

    ¡°So what do I do?¡±

    ¡°You keep living and fighting.¡± The elf explained. ¡°If the world wants to break you, then the only thing you can do is fight against it and hope to keep it at bay.¡±

    William was silent for a while, his tired gaze still fixed on the sea. Without a word, he stood up straight and walked off. Gwenyth wasn¡¯t sure if her words rang true for the herald. The only thing she could do for him now was hope that he would recover from Buravon. Arthur was nearby, watching as the herald walked below the deck.

    The former apostle turned to Gwenyth, who quickly broke eye contact. She couldn¡¯t stand to look at him. Not after what he told her. Gwenyth obviously had more questions, such as the summoning of those Outlanders, the reason they were here, and why Delphine chose him to kill them off.

    Yet the elf felt hesitant about asking this to Arthur. There were some things that were better left off unknown. She knew that from personal experience and had paid dearly for it. Her left arm was an example of it. Gwenyth clutched her prosthetic, feeling how it vibrated and shifted underneath the bandages. Something was wrong. She unwrapped the dirty cloth, watching her arm shimmered with bluish light. The runes were flickering, something she had never seen before.

    ¡°The ley lines,¡± she realized. That was impossible. Ley lines shouldn¡¯t be affecting magic tools like this. Even if cracked, they documented their influence to be liminal. Yet here was her arm, shaking and convulsing. Before her worry could turn to panic, the shaking stopped. The runes went back to their soft glow. Her arm was back to normal, fully under control.

    ¡®The ley lines below us must have changed. That¡¯s probably why my arm reacted.¡¯

    It wasn¡¯t a solid theory, but it was clearly better than nothing.

    ¡°Nice arm,¡± a voice called out from nearby. Gwenyth turned to the source, who was none other than the bounty hunter Eilif. The immortal man rested against the mast, his goggles facing the sky. There was no emotion on his face, but Gwenyth could still hear the grin behind that cursed mask.

    ¡°What is it?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Nothing. I¡¯m just admiring the craftsmanship of that prosthetic. Where¡¯d you get it?¡± Eilif asked.

    ¡°None of your business,¡± the elf muttered as she wrapped the arm in bandages once more.

    The bounty hunter tilted his head. ¡°I have seen nothing like it in centuries. Must be artifact level, huh?¡±

    ¡°Why do you continue to pester?¡± Gwenyth scowled.

    ¡°I¡¯m just curious. That is all.¡± Eilif raised his hands in defense.

    ¡°Chaos followers say that. Of course, after they burnt down entire cities,¡± Gwenyth laced every word with venom, letting Eilif know her distaste for the followers.

    ¡°You¡¯re describing the works of man. Inquisitors, chaos followers, Jarls, they¡¯re all the same. The only difference is motive,¡± Eilif explained. ¡°Humanity has always been at war with itself. The gods just make sure it is ¡®civil¡¯.¡±

    Gwenyth made a disgusted face. ¡°Every city burnt down, every innocent family put to the sword, all of it was done by men manipulated by gods. I¡¯ve seen it happen myself.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps.¡± Eilif rubbed his mask in thought, his raspy breathing audible from the elf¡¯s position. ¡°I enjoy talking to you. You understand what mortals don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°Look at us. We¡¯ve dealt with enough of the strife between deities, so we wander around. We try to find a purpose outside of it all, only to realize¡­¡± Eilif sighed. ¡°No matter what, we always get involved in it, despite our best judgment.¡±

    Gwenyth didn¡¯t know how to respond to the man. Whether she liked it or not, everything he said hit the elf where she lived. Centuries of watching her world burn and fall, the elf had seen it all. She¡¯d seen dear friends die and watched kingdoms fall. She fought against the abominable and the wicked. It was all so much that the elf had gone full nomad, walking throughout Azurvale, Kasan, and Valenfrost without purpose or guidance. Yet it did nothing but lead her back into the conflicts of gods and men.

    ¡°Who are you, Eilif?¡± She asked softly. ¡°I¡¯ve seen many things, but you are an anomaly I can¡¯t place.¡±

    ¡°Me? I¡¯m nothing more than a man cursed to walk this world for eternity. You can say I¡¯m like you, a wanderer with no purpose,¡± he chuckled.

    ¡°Funny.¡± Gwenyth sighed. She looked to the sea, watching as the smoke pillar grew smaller. ¡°Every decade, I¡¯m feeling the same way.¡±

    <hr>

    James watched the harbor, his mind running free as he watched people work and walk around. Workers pulled in long ships and galleons to port, their hands working to make sure everything was done in a timely manner. Newcomers and merchants walked among the crowds, their gazes either fixed on the market ahead or the marvel that was Vindis City.

    James spotted a group of young men and women, their clothing and gear indicating that they were adventurers. They wore gambeson and mail, their weapons absent from their belts. That was typical. Vindis guards didn¡¯t allow weapons to pass through the checkpoints, unless they were paid under the table to look the other way, of course.

    James felt a little nostalgic at the sight of these young adventurers. Who knows what would¡¯ve happened had he been summoned somewhere else, like Lumen City or Haven? Perhaps he would¡¯ve ended up like these people, traveling and adventuring through Valenfrost and Azurvale. James sighed as the group of friends excitedly headed off to the city¡¯s marketplace, their naivety shown through their movements and loud conversations.

    ¡®Wish you swapped places?¡¯ Faust asked.

    ¡®Gods no.¡¯ James chuckled. ¡®Those poor fools aren¡¯t gonna last that long in this city. As much as I admire their ignorance, I¡¯m alright with my position.¡¯

    James turned to his ship, Draugr¡¯s Haunt. His crew were currently hauling in the cargo Bjorn had bought for his brewing business in Yorktown. The dwarf thankfully had money on him, part of his savings. It was only enough for two or three barrels, but it would be enough for the foreign traders that would soon arrive at Yorktown in the coming weeks.

    ¡°Two weeks here and we¡¯re barely accomplishing anything,¡± James muttered. While getting traders to Yorktown was what he set out to do, the young clan leader couldn¡¯t help but feel as if he had done little to further the progress of his clan.

    ¡°Really? Did you forget about me?¡± A voice called out to James. He turned around to meet Malik, the necromancer he made a pact with not too long ago.

    James could feel his palm sting at the sight of him. ¡°Getting a crazy necromancer on my side doesn¡¯t mean that my people are going to prosper without me.¡±

    Malik chuckled at that. ¡°You jest and you jest. One day you will realize how important I am, Holter.¡± With that, the hooded man headed off to the longship, catching the ire of everyone nearby.

    Malik was coming to Yorktown, whether or not Harald or James liked it. There was no fighting the pact James made with the necromancer. He made a promise that he knew he couldn¡¯t take back.

    ¡®Did I make the right choice? Was it really worth it?¡¯

    James couldn¡¯t help but feel like he had made a deal with the devil, his emotions exploited.

    ¡®You did what you could do, James. Only time will tell if you really did make the right decision.¡¯ Faust sounded out. The blond man took a breath of the cold salty air. He felt like throwing up.

    ¡®At least that witch isn¡¯t coming.¡¯

    Lydia, the witch who had been with Malik, left unceremoniously after the pact was made. Last James heard of it, she had gone off to do her own thing, something that involved a personal matter. Malik had explained that Lydia was initially training underneath him to become a better sorceress, to get the strength needed to kill someone powerful. When James had asked him who the man was, Malik had shrugged and said that it was ¡®someone who killed someone close to her¡¯.

    While sympathetic, James could never truly forgive the witch for what she did, despite her following orders from Malik to do so. The thought of being manipulated, his old friends and past life exploited against him, it made James shiver. Never again.

    ¡®What exactly did you see in that dream? I couldn¡¯t catch a glimpse of it, not even in your memories.¡¯ Faust prodded.

    ¡°Something I never want to experience again,¡± James muttered. He took a step towards the ship, watching as everyone readied to depart once more.

    ¡°Dimitri. Are we ready to depart?¡± James called out. The shipmaster raised his head from the cargo bay, his grin still as contagious as before.

    ¡°Friend James! We are ready for departure. Whenever you are ready!¡± It was good to see that Dimitri was doing fine, despite his brush with Markov weeks back. James couldn¡¯t help but smile, his worries slowly going away.

    ¡°Good, then let¡¯s get out of here. We have a town to run.¡±

    <hr>

    Wizard Falrick sifted through the box of items the shaman had brought him. He pushed past potions and vials, examining their tags and contents. ¡°Quite a limited supply,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°Will it be enough?¡± Dahlia asked behind him.

    ¡°For the veil? Or for scrying?¡± The Wizard questioned.

    ¡°Either.¡±

    ¡°The veil needs more than this. It also requires a specific soapstone and salts. As for scrying, it depends on what you want to see. If it¡¯s a basic scry of the island, then you have enough. Want to find a specific person, you need much more. Need to find someone far away, then you need a crystal ball and a remnant of that person.¡±

    ¡°How does one get a crystal ball?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°Are you looking for someone?¡± Falrick asked. He picked up a vial, reading its label as ¡®bladeroot¡¯. That could be useful for some potion making.

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with safety.¡± The shaman defended herself.

    ¡°Safety is one thing. Stalking is another.¡± The Wizard grabbed a couple of choice items from the box.

    ¡°What if it¡¯s someone who threatens your home?¡± Dahlia asked.

    Falrick stood up, pocketing the items. ¡°Then you strike them before they get the chance. That was Yorn¡¯s philosophy.¡± He sighed. ¡°Unless, of course, you have nothing to strike back with. Then perhaps it¡¯s better to run away.¡± He turned to the shaman. ¡°There¡¯s nothing wrong with cowardice. Not when it¡¯s your loved ones on the line.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you ran? For your loved ones?¡±

    ¡°I ran because I failed. Staying and dying wouldn¡¯t have changed a thing. Remember that.¡±

    The shaman broke eye contact with him; her gaze now on the floor. ¡°How long are you going to stay with us?¡±

    ¡°Depends on your leader. When he comes back, I shall discuss with him my future here,¡± Falrick explained. He knew that wasn¡¯t what the shaman wanted to hear. He knew she wanted a reason as to why he was adamant about staying here. Needless to say, Dahlia wasn¡¯t happy that Falrick turned around his hostility so quickly. He guessed it gave off the impression that the Wizard had an ulterior motive.

    While he had one, Falrick had no intention of screwing over the raven clan. In fact, he wanted to protect them. Only he and Lowe knew of the importance of the artifact and the consequences it could bring to Valenfrost. Still, he had to keep it all under wraps. There was no telling what could happen if word got out about the item. It could very well spark the next great war.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Dahlia muttered as she brushed a short lock of hair behind her ear. ¡°James should get back soon. Until then, you¡¯re going to stay here under the supervision of Felix and his guardsmen.¡± She gestured to the door of the hut. ¡°He¡¯ll bring you food and other necessities. Just ask if you need something else.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Falrick examined the hut he would be staying at. It was barebones, with only a cot and a basic table with chairs. ¡°So, jail then?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a prison. We¡¯re just making sure you won¡¯t run.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s jail.¡±

    Dahlia raised an eyebrow. ¡°We can always throw you into the actual jail we have.¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary,¡± Falrick chuckled. ¡°Can I get more items for potion making? I have to keep my hands busy, otherwise I¡¯ll go insane.¡±

    ¡°What I¡¯ve brought is most of what I have. Without the volatile stuff, of course.¡± Dahlia sighed.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to blow this hut to bits with potion bombs. I could already do that without the ingredients,¡± Falrick pointed out with his calloused fingers.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can find,¡± Dahlia said.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Falrick gave the shaman a smile, trying his best to seem friendly. The shaman only stared at him, before she turned around and left. Once she finally closed the door, the Wizard let out a defeated breath. Aside from fixing relations with these people, he had things to do. Such as making sure no one could find the artifact Lowe showed him.

    He looked at the box of items the shaman left behind. While limited, he could still whip up an enchantment ritual that could render the item hidden from advanced scrying and tracking crystals. It would only hide the item for a few months, but it would be enough for Falrick to find a better solution.

    He just hoped that Holter would arrive soon, so he could explain it all to him

 B.3 Chapter 29: Stowaway

    James sighed as he felt the salty air brush against him. It was funny, enjoying the sea like this despite his wonky track record with it. His sea sickness was absent this time, a result of living on the moving platforms of Vindis for these past weeks. Or perhaps it was the weather. Valenfrost had never looked this beautiful to James. The blue sky and the parted clouds with the calm and reflecting sea made it all so picturesque. Even the winds were kind, their cold currents sending the ship at high speed. At this rate, they would arrive in Yorktown in less than a day.

    ¡°Enjoying the sea?¡± Liam called out. The wheelman had a sly grin upon him, as if he caught James enjoying something he shouldn¡¯t have.

    James only grinned as he hung from the tail end of the longship. ¡°It¡¯s a nice day out. Probably the only one I¡¯ve had since coming here.¡±

    ¡°Aye, Valenfrost ain¡¯t got much to look at, but when you find those rare moments of beauty, ya learn to appreciate it more,¡± Liam chuckled.

    ¡°Amen,¡± James muttered. He took another breath of the fresh air, a small smile appearing on his lips.

    ¡®Now to ruin the moment¡­¡¯ James internally sighed. He pulled himself back to the ship, his feet shaking as he tried to accustom himself to the deck. ¡®What¡¯s our first order of business when we get back?¡¯ He asked Faust.

    ¡®What am I, your assistant?¡¯

    ¡°Just answer the question,¡± James muttered aloud as he walked past crewmates.

    ¡®Silas and the orcs. I know Dahlia was supposed to take care of it, but you¡¯re still going to talk it over when we get back,¡¯ Faust conceded.

    ¡®I know. What¡¯s next?¡¯ James passed by Bjorn, who was busy trying to move a barrel to the hatch ahead. He ignored him, blowing it off as Faust spoke.

    ¡®There¡¯s the matter of explaining Malik to the council, proposing your booze idea, and also¡­ Iendis.¡¯

    That made James stop in his tracks. The mention of the deity made him shiver. He could still remember her heated lips and the way those zombies chanted. The sight of Gryff staring at him with that accusatory look. James shook that image away, burying it deep within the reaches of his mind.

    ¡®I have a lead. We just need to find it.¡¯ James told the spirit.

    ¡®Are you sure she exists, James? There¡¯s a good chance that it was just a¨C¡¯

    ¡°I know what I saw,¡± James responded aloud.

    The spirit was silent.

    ¡®I¡¯m going to find her,¡¯ James continued. ¡®That¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do once the orcs are dealt with. After Silas, I¡¯m going out to find her. I need answers. I need this.¡¯ James could not forget what he saw back there, in his dream. Iendis knew him. She saw what he was, who he was. If he was going to get answers, she was it.

    James stopped his walk. His train of thought was pushed aside for the moment as he glanced at Harald. The older man was currently getting some sleep at the longship¡¯s other end, his sheathed weapon gripped tightly in his hands. The veteran already had sleep troubles back in Yorktown, but what happened in Vindis had amplified them. Harald was growing dark bags underneath his eyes, his mood and attentiveness also taking a hit. James wanted to speak with him about what they both saw in that dream, about the duel, and William. Harald had simply brushed him off, refusing to even acknowledge it.

    ¡®He¡¯s taking it harder than I thought,¡¯ James thought to himself.

    ¡®After what we both saw, I don¡¯t blame him,¡¯ Faust added. ¡®A champion of the ember goddess, I would have never guessed,¡¯ the Centurion muttered.

    James frowned. ¡®Champion or not, he clearly regrets it all. There¡¯s more to it, and I want to help him, but he won¡¯t open up at all.¡¯ James turned to where Seamus sat. The young man was with Lilith, who was examining a puzzle box Seamus got for her.

    ¡®Him too. Ever since Lydia, Seamus has been distant. He only spoke to me once about the whole thing and even then, he was vague about it.¡¯ James furrowed his brow. ¡®Do you think we need to give them more time? Do things like this ever even¡­ heal?¡¯

    ¡®Try talking it out with him. It has been a while since you two last conversed,¡¯ Faust suggested.

    James sighed but didn¡¯t object. He slowly approached the young man, whose gaze was still fixed on the sword he held. James sat next to him with no problem, his own focus on the billowing sails. There was some silence between the two, the awkwardness lasting for a minute or two. Seamus was the first to break it.

    ¡°Are you here to comfort me?¡± He asked James. ¡°To coddle me and say I¡¯m alright?¡±

    ¡°Just here to talk with you,¡± James answered. ¡°I have no intention of asking what you saw in those visions. I know it¡¯s¡­ hard to remember that night.¡±

    Seamus was quiet for a moment, his eyes closing as he sighed. ¡°I watched him die. My father,¡± he muttered. ¡°Watched as Deimos took his head off. I think¡­ I think that was my breaking point. The moment where everything shattered for me.¡±

    James listened in silence. He saw from his peripheral how Seamus rubbed his tired eyes.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how much I can handle. Every day since, it feels as if I¡¯m losing a bit of my sanity. Every nightmare I have, I lose a piece of myself,¡± Seamus chuckled dryly as he grabbed at his chest. ¡°I feel sick. Like a pit is forming in my stomach.¡± The young man turned to James. ¡°It doesn¡¯t help when you keep putting yourself through danger. When you make decisions, that could very well lead to disaster.¡±

    James felt a bit of guilt at that. Malik and the deal with those thieves could have very well ended horribly. He was extremely lucky that he managed out of that situation.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± James expressed. ¡°for putting you through that. I should¡¯ve played it smarter, avoided dealing with Malik in the first place.¡±

    ¡°I forgive you for what you had to do,¡± Seamus responded. That surprised James. He didn¡¯t expect that. ¡°It¡¯s difficult in your position, I suppose. Even so,¡± Seamus side-eyed James. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to end up as someone so accepting of the dark arts. Something like that could lead men down dark paths. Make them dangerous to themselves and the ones they love.¡±

    There was a silent pause after that, with both men focusing on the wooden deck before them. James wasn¡¯t sure how to respond to that. Hell, he wasn¡¯t even sure if he was ready to answer such a question.

    ¡°Do you know of the folktale of the Mad King?¡± Seamus broke the awkward silence with a question.

    James raised an eyebrow at the young man¡¯s inquiry. He had heard the name before. Whether through conversations between townsfolk or references made by Dahlia, James wasn¡¯t entirely sure. Still, he had heard enough to get a gist of the story.

    ¡°He was one of the Four Kings in legend, right? Betrayed his brothers for power?¡± It was all he knew about the tale. The Four Kings was another known legend, about how the entirety of Azurvale and Valenfrost were united under four kingdoms. It had all ended, however, when one of them tried to kill the other three in search of power.

    Seamus nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what everyone knows. The simplified version for children. The actual story¡­ It¡¯s grim.¡± He sat upright against the railing. ¡°The Mad King used to be respected for his wits and intelligence. He was the brightest of the bright, one of the most powerful spellcasters in his time. Yet as time grew and his enemies continued to raid his lands, he sought for more power. He dug up old tomes, learned what he could. Wanted to protect those he cared about. At some point, he discovered how to summon a demon. Not just any demon, but a beholder demon.¡±

    ¡°Beholder?¡± James questioned. That was another name he had heard before, yet couldn¡¯t recall where.

    ¡°A terrible demon,¡± Seamus explained. ¡°Scarily intelligent, powerful, and downright malicious. When the Mad King summoned one, he struck a deal with it. A pact. It would give the king one of its eyes, granting him strength beyond his understanding. In return, the king had to promise to release the demon from its domain, unleashing it onto Azura. The Mad King did it without question, all in search of the forbidden.

    ¡°Some say he did it because he was confident he could keep the demon in check. Others say he was beyond mad at that point. That he only lusted after the power and knowledge. In the end, the beholder¡¯s eye drove him to insanity. It granted him power, yes, but it also broke him. Made him mad. He had to be stopped by his brothers.¡± Seamus turned to James, almost expecting him to put the pieces together.

    ¡°That¡¯s different,¡± James defended. ¡°I made a safe pact with Malik. The Mad King pacted with a demon.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s still similar enough,¡± Seamus sighed. ¡°What I¡¯m trying to tell you is that you need to take care of what you pursue. I don¡¯t know what lies in our future, but I don¡¯t want to lose you in that darkness. It¡¯s a pit that few can leave.¡±

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    James nodded, his focus going back to the sails above him. Seamus had a point. Whether he liked it or not, James was walking on a line that threatened to drag him down. Even with good intentions, anyone could turn to a path of madness.

    ¡°Think about it, please,¡± Seamus urged.

    James looked at his friend, who seemed to beg with his eyes. Before he could get a word in, a commotion caught his attention.

    ¡°What the¨C?! Who are you?!¡± It was Bjorn, and he sounded pissed. James turned to where he last saw the dwarf. The barrel Bjorn had been pushing was now on its side, its lid on the ground. However, where he expected supplies and ingredients spilt all over the deck, was instead a young woman with braided black hair and steel-blue eyes. She wore a blue cloak and matching tunic, her outfit somehow familiar.

    At first, James had no idea who she was. Then he saw what she held in her hands. A lute. Memories clicked and his mind recalled a certain image from a couple of weeks ago. She was the stalker who followed him in Vindis, the one he had locked eyes with before his encounter with the Thieves Guild.

    ¡°I know you, you¡¯ve been stalking me haven¡¯t you?¡± James confronted as he stood up.

    ¡°This is¡­ embarrassing,¡± the woman chuckled nervously in response.

    James grabbed at his sword¡¯s hilt. ¡°Why are you following me? Better yet, did Markov send you?¡±

    The stalker held up her lute in defense, her eyes wide with fear. She babbled as she tried to explain herself, to no avail. James couldn¡¯t understand a single word. He raised a hand, shutting her up.

    ¡°Just calm down. Take a deep breath and explain slowly.¡±

    The young woman stopped, her gaze moving to her lute. She took a breath before she tried to explain once more.

    ¡°My name is Elaine. I¡¯m just a bard. I¡¯m not a threat or anything. I don¡¯t even know who Markov is.¡± She took another breath, as if trying to control her nerves. ¡°I was only curious about you and I wanted to approach you about, uh¡­¡± Elaine went quiet.

    ¡°About?¡± James prodded.

    ¡°I wanted to be your bard and scribe, write and sing stories about you.¡± Elaine sounded almost ashamed about her intentions.

    ¡°What?¡± James blinked. This was something he wasn¡¯t prepared to hear. Out of all the reasons she could have had to follow and stalk him, James didn¡¯t expect this.

    ¡°For a lowly bard like me to make money, I have to sing songs. For me to make it big, I have to find myself a potential hero to sing about.¡± Elaine struggled to stand, her legs shaking from the lurching deck. ¡°When I saw you, I knew you were something special,¡± the bard admitted.

    James grimaced. ¡®I¡¯ve seemed to get that a lot. Maybe I should start looking into concealing my presence.¡¯ He would have plenty of time for that later. As of now¡­

    ¡°Dimitri, where¡¯s the nearest trading outpost?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s an Olafson outpost not too far from where we¡¯re at,¡± Dimitri called out from his map and compass.

    ¡°Good. We can drop off the stowaway over there,¡± James voiced.

    Elaine¡¯s face turned to a deathly pale. ¡°Wait! No! You can¡¯t just drop me off!¡±

    ¡°I can and I will.¡± James waved off her plea.

    The bard stepped up to the young clan leader, her hands clasped together as she begged, ¡°James, wait! Let me come with you all! I can offer my services, I know castings, buffs, and¡ª¡±

    ¡°I already have enough on my plate as it is. The last thing I want is someone like you tagging along and slowing me down,¡± James coldly stated.

    That seemed to upset the bard. ¡°I won¡¯t be a burden! I¡¯ll just be a passive observer, that is all!¡± Elaine sounded desperate. James wasn¡¯t sure why she was so damn insistent, but he knew better than to have another crazy person following him around everywhere. There was also the potential danger and the threat of retaliation from the orcs and hawk clan.

    ¡°Passive observer? Look, I already have someone stuck to me. Having another will only make everything a pain in the ass. I¡¯m also broke if you can¡¯t tell, so paying you is impossible.¡± James¡¯ words struck Elaine in a way he didn¡¯t expect.

    The bard¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°I can help with that! I can make you the money you need! I know of a way that can make you mounds of silver.¡±

    James raised an eyebrow. Back on Earth, anyone with common sense would recognize the get-rich-quick schemes. James himself felt like he was staring at an email that was currently explaining how he could make thousands selling quality steak-knives.

    ¡°Sure you do,¡± he muttered.

    Elaine¡¯s expression faltered at the accusatory tone. She quickly shook her head. ¡°No no no! It¡¯s no deception!¡± The bard nervously laughed. ¡°I swear, it¡¯s completely earnest.¡±

    ¡®I really don¡¯t want to trust her¡­¡¯ James thought to himself.

    ¡®Neither do I, but I don¡¯t think she¡¯s lying,¡¯ Faust stepped in regardless.

    ¡®Why do you say that?¡¯ James asked.

    Curiously enough, the spirit didn¡¯t seem all too indifferent about the woman. ¡®From my time in the legion, I recall bards making their fortunes singing and recounting the stories of legends and famous heroes. They had a lot of popularity among the common populace. People, believe it or not, tend to get bored with the daily routine,¡¯ Faust explained.

    ¡®You think she¡¯s telling the truth?¡¯ James asked.

    ¡®I think she truly believes she can make the coin. Whether it¡¯ll work is up for debate.¡¯

    The young clan leader sighed in frustration. ¡°Dimitri,¡± he called out. ¡°Keep our course for Yorktown.¡±

    ¡°Oh thank you, you won¡¯t¡ª¡± Elaine¡¯s relieved response was interrupted by James, who pushed past her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t make me regret this,¡± James warned. He didn¡¯t have to look at the young bard to know that her expression of excitement was gone.

    <hr>

    Deimos breathed in the fresh air, which carried the scent of cooked meat and ashy flames. The men were cooking lunch; it seemed. Once he finished with business, he intended to have himself a piece. The Red Death looked to the orc nearby, the disgusting savage drooling blood and saliva out of its broken teeth.

    ¡°I will ask you this again, orc.¡± He crouched. ¡°Where is this vault?¡±

    ¡°I told you! I don¡¯t remember!¡± The greenskin shouted fearfully.

    Deimos clicked his tongue. ¡°Not the words I was looking for.¡± He stood up, his hands reaching for the orc¡¯s other ear.

    ¡°Wait! Please! I really don¡¯t know where it is!¡±

    ¡°It would help to quit babbling. It only makes me more irritated,¡± Deimos muttered as he grabbed the orc¡¯s soft fleshy lobe.

    The orc seemed to panic even more. ¡°Wait! Wait! I know something else!¡±

    ¡°Unless it involves Yorn¡¯s old vault¡ª¡±

    ¡°It involves the men who took over the island!¡±

    Deimos stopped. He looked at the orc. ¡°You didn¡¯t mention visitors taking over the island.¡±

    ¡°I forgot! I¡¯m sorry!¡± The orc admitted.

    Deimos pulled at the ear. ¡°Tell me now. Everything you know.¡±

    The orc winced in pain. ¡°Agh! I know these people came to the island, they came and ruined everything for Blood-Irk!¡±

    ¡°Ruined?¡±

    ¡°They free human prisoners, free Silas and other traitorous orcs! Ruined big feast!¡± The orc rambled.

    ¡°What else?¡± Deimos growled.

    ¡°They burned the whole island down. Destroyed the vault and took whatever was in it!¡±

    ¡°Who did it? Lumen knights? Other clans?¡± Deimos questioned.

    ¡°It was him! Dremor¡¯s chosen herald!¡±

    That made the Red Death blink in surprise. Dremor had a herald? That was impossible. The god of souls never chose representatives, and he never took part in mortal affairs. Deimos recalled his conversation with Blood-Kro, who mentioned a man who could control Dremor¡¯s damned.

    ¡°Are you lying to me?¡± Deimos asked angrily.

    ¡°No! No! It was him! He had the eyes of the undead god! His skull was alight with blue flames! A Draugr! That¡¯s what Blood-Irk called him!¡±

    ¡°Draugr¡­¡± Deimos trailed. The Red Death let go of the orc. He laughed heartily, his lips curling into a grin. Of course it was a Draugr. Of course, it was him. The orc only stared at Deimos with fear in its eyes. After a while, the chieftain let out a satisfied breath. ¡°That will be all, orc.¡± He turned around to Ivana and her marauder guards, who were patiently waiting nearby.

    ¡°Kill it and dump the corpse into the sea,¡± he ordered. Ivana nodded and gestured for her men to do the deed. The two marauders hurried without hesitation. The orc¡¯s sudden cry for mercy only lasted a second before it was violently silenced. Ivana caught up to the Red Death, keeping up with his stride.

    ¡°Draugr? Is it who I think it is?¡± She asked.

    Deimos could catch the vitriol embedded in her words, no matter how neatly she put them. ¡°Why? Do you want to kill him?¡± He pointed out.

    Ivana scowled. ¡°I believe we should set our sights on something besides him. He is below us. He does not deserve an ounce of your attention.¡± While she tried to keep civil, Deimos could sense her disgust with the mention of Holter. Ever since she found out about Yorktown, Ivana had wanted nothing more than to kill the blond man thoroughly and wipe the town off the map. Deimos¡¯ choice to leave him alive and to even gift him a ship had confused her and even had her doubting his leadership.

    Ivana knew better than to ask, of course, but Deimos already knew the burning questions she had on her mind.

    ¡°He is more than a peasant or common warrior,¡± the chieftain explained. ¡°One day, you¡¯ll understand exactly what I see in that strange man.¡±

    ¡°If you are right,¡± Ivana muttered, ¡°then it¡¯s even more confusing. Why would you assist a man who could very well kill you?¡±

    Deimos stopped. ¡°You act as if I¡¯m the only one in his sights.¡± He turned to Ivana. ¡°He is like a tool. A dangerous tool, but a useful one. Aiming it is all I need to do.¡±

    The marauder woman looked even more confused.

    ¡°Again, one day, you will see what I see. Until that day comes, you must have faith.¡± Deimos continued his walk to the camp ahead, leaving Ivana behind. ¡°I want you to talk with the men. Specifically, the ones who were a part of that prison barge. Ask if they¡¯ve ever seen this ¡®Draugr¡¯. Once someone talks, we will plan our next move.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 30: Return of the Jarl

    ¡°We¡¯re changing course?¡±

    ¡°Yes. I got a lead on where our source might be.¡±

    Gwenyth leaned back in her chair. ¡°Did information come from the clerics?¡±

    ¡°From one of my contacts,¡± Arthur revealed.

    ¡°You look surprised,¡± Gwenyth pointed out. She remembered their conversation in Norum, back when Arthur had debriefed her on his connections in Valenfrost. He had told her then about his contacts.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think they¡¯d find anything,¡± Arthur explained. ¡°Only used them as a precaution for any threats. Now, however, it seemed as if one of them found something.¡±

    ¡°Where is it?¡± William asked. The herald¡¯s seasickness looked to be no more. In fact, he looked healthier now. Gwenyth guessed he had finally overcome it.

    Arthur looked down at the spell crystal he held in his hands. ¡°They wanted to meet in Vindis. Said they¡¯ll give me more information there.¡±

    ¡°The floating city?¡± Gwenyth raised an eyebrow. That was a week¡¯s journey, at best. Not to mention the factors such as bandits, rogue waves, marauders, and rival clans. It was a dangerous journey, one that should not be made so carelessly. ¡°Arthur, is your contact trustworthy?¡±

    ¡°They are,¡± Arthur stated.

    ¡°If you¡¯re hiding something again¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you what¡¯s necessary.¡±

    Gwenyth bit her tongue, forcing herself not to respond with something biting. Arthur was irking her more and more as time went on. Ever since that incident in Buravon, the elf felt like she was being kept in the dark. Arthur was drip feeding her information and was skirting around topics. In any other situation, she would¡¯ve beat it out of him. Yet she resisted. Arthur was the only one here who knew what was happening. Eilif, William, the rest of the crew, they were all as clueless as she. If she were to fight him, it would only worsen things and prolong their mission.

    ¡®Perhaps that is why he keeps it to himself. Assurance that we won¡¯t mutiny or try anything.¡¯

    Gwenyth had to admit, the former apostle was smart. Still, she couldn¡¯t shake off the suspicion that there was something else going on behind the curtain. A sinking feeling that she had many times before in her lifetime. It was there when she lost her arm; it was there when Lumen City initially fell, and it was there when she stopped afoot Buravon.

    ¡®What did you involve me in, Alfred?¡¯

    Gwenyth thought back to the Wizard who sent her on this quest. What was supposed to be a repaid favor had turned into something with malicious implications and consequences. Abominations and Outlanders, stories and horrors that had now become reality. Was Delphine even attempting to fix it all, or was she just tying loose ends? Was the man they were hunting even a threat? Is he truly the enemy? The mission was to kill him and seal the fracture he had created. Gwenyth wondered if that was the truth or a fabricated excuse concocted by the Lumen council.

    Gwenyth moved her focus to William, who looked just as frustrated as her. He, too, had signed on to help save the ley lines, not to be led around like a blind fool. The herald had been subjected to scenes of death and misery he had seen since his time in the Outsider Wars. The elf sympathized with him, knowing that he was just as frustrated and angry with the situation.

    Still, both of them had to bite their tongue and obey the orders they were given. Gwenyth knew that arguing and fighting were only about to slow their progress down. They still had a job to do. Arthur would continue to lead them around and the elf would bide her time. When the time was right, she¡¯d make sure to keep Clarke from endangering everything.

    <hr>

    James gave a satisfied yawn as he stepped onto the cobbled ground of the harbor. He was finally back home. After two long weeks, he was back on solid ground.

    ¡°Can¡¯t wait to get some actual sleep for once,¡± he murmured to himself. It had been so long since he slept in peace. The fact that he had shared a tavern cot with Harald was already uncomfortable enough. Vindis, as it turned out, was not a quiet city at night. Nighttime was filled with the sounds of cats meowing loudly, drunken brawls escalating in the tavern, couples fucking, and the constant noises of the rushing canal made it a nightmare to sleep.

    It was now in the past, thankfully. James can now slip into his comfortable cot, with heavy blankets and a nice smelling hut. Even Dimitri and his crew headed off to their homes, which lay in New Aldren. James didn¡¯t blame them. The longship could have its cargo lifted the next day. As the man walked toward the shaman¡¯s hut, he was intercepted. Not by one man or woman, no, but by the many followers of his clan. Men and women crowded around him, excited to see him back safely.

    ¡°My Jarl! How was your trip?¡±

    ¡°Did you revitalize our town?¡±

    ¡°How was Vindis?¡±

    ¡°Have you brought more powerful followers?¡±

    ¡°Are you alright my lord? Are you hurt?¡±

    James raised his hands as he tried to quiet them all down. ¡°The trip was fine¡­ What? Who told you that? No, I didn¡¯t bring any powerful followers. I¡¯m alright, thank you¡­ Why are you crying?¡± He had no idea this many people were in his clan. He could have sworn they were limited to the Aldren survivors. Yet here he spotted Yorktown¡¯s people in the mix, along with town guards and even some merchants. They all bore the white raven, the symbol either painted on their grabs or sown in.

    ¡®Where did you all come from?¡¯

    That was all James could think. It was nearly dark, the only remnants of the sun being the faint orange tinge in the horizon. That there were so many people out here meant that they had prior knowledge that he would be here.

    ¡°Alright, back it up!¡± A voice called out. James turned to the source of the voice, only to find Helen and some guardsmen. ¡°Clear out and give him some space!¡± She shouted. Her commanding voice convinced the crowd to back away, allowing James to catch his breath.

    ¡°Sorry about that.¡± Helen sighed as she approached James. ¡°They somehow caught word that you were coming.¡± That only confused James even more. How did they catch word of that? How did anyone know that Draugr¡¯s Haunt was coming? Helen noticed his confused expression, causing her to speak up.

    ¡°Ah, forgot. You¡¯re not caught up to date.¡± She chuckled.

    ¡°Caught up to date?¡± Seamus called out. The young man was currently helping the rest of the group off the ship.

    ¡°Lowe¡¯s crazy Wizard conspiracy was right,¡± Helen revealed.

    James furrowed his brow. ¡°Crazy Wizard conspiracy?¡± This was the first time he was hearing about this.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t know, James? I thought Seamus might¡¯ve been the one to tell you.¡± Helen gestured to the younger man. Seamus blinked a couple times, his expression revealing that he was processing the situation.

    ¡°Right¡­¡± He face palmed himself. ¡°I was supposed to tell you a couple months back, but the Olafson emissary came and everything that happened after got in the way.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± James sighed. ¡°Well, what happened? What was Lowe¡¯s crazy Wizard idea?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Well, it started with the gnome,¡± Helen started. ¡°He believed that Yorn¡¯s court Wizard, Falrick, was hiding out here in Yorktown, disguising himself as one of Aldren¡¯s survivors.¡±

    ¡°Wait, seriously?¡± James felt even more confused.

    ¡°Believe me, I had the same reaction.¡± Helen muttered. ¡°In short, we weeded the old geezer out and he¡¯s currently detained.¡±

    James had no idea what to make of it. A Wizard hiding out in the town? Posing a survivor nonetheless. He counted himself lucky that he didn¡¯t have to deal with that mess.

    ¡°I will say, however, I envy not coming along with you.¡± Helen admitted. ¡°You lot probably had a time in Vindis getting drunk off your asses.¡±

    ¡°Actually,¡± James chuckled nervously. He turned to the longship, watching as Elaine and Malik stepped off the deck bridge. Their reactions to the quiet town were mixed, to say the best.

    ¡°You¡¯d be surprised¡­¡±

    <hr>

    The room was silent, other than the crackle of flames and the occasional cough. The longhouse was supposed to be a place of council and meeting, yet this silence pertained.

    The Wizard looked at the occupants. The only ones he recognized were the people who had detained him in the first place. Dahlia, Helen, Haggard, and Lowe. It was them and¡­ him. Seamus Halvorson sat across from the table, along with James Holter and a group of people he didn¡¯t recognize. Seamus looked just as surprised and nervous as the Wizard. Falrick still avoided eye contact. It wouldn¡¯t do good to keep gawking.

    Falrick felt uneasy, not because of his situation, no, but of the necromancer that sat nearby Holter. He was in the background, simply watching with a slight smile on his face. Falrick felt disgusted at the sight of him. Necromancers were the lowest kinds of magic users. They defiled corpses, desecrated burial grounds, and sacrificed people for their rituals. The one who was accompanying Holter looked no different.

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    Falrick looked at the rest of the occupants. A couple of human guards, as well as what looked to be an orc. The Wizard had to do a double take at the oafish creature. The orc looked different from the savages Falrick had encountered back in Aldren. This creature looked orderly and had its coarse hair swept back. Its mannerisms were also something strange. It acted polite, its chin raised and eyes forward. Falrick had to force himself to stop staring.

    ¡°I guess if no one is going to say it, I will,¡± Holter¡¯s voice sounded out. ¡°We are having this meeting because apparently we need to be briefed on everything since my departure. Not sure why this couldn¡¯t wait til morning but¡­¡± The Jarl shrugged. ¡°Let¡¯s start with the reason for this meeting, regarding the Wizard known as Falrick. You wanted to see me, about?¡±

    ¡°My stay within your clan,¡± Falrick answered.

    Holter raised an eyebrow. ¡°From what I¡¯ve been told, you were initially against that idea. You even destroyed a building in your attempted escape.¡±

    ¡°That was¡­ an overreaction,¡± Falrick admitted. The room was filled with murmurs and hushed words.

    Holter raised a hand to quiet them down. ¡°Why do you want to stay with us? Why did you change your mind?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be rude, but that is a matter I¡¯d rather speak privately about,¡± Falrick responded adamantly. ¡°It is a sensitive subject, one I¡¯d rather not delve into publicly.¡±

    Holter nodded. ¡°I can understand that. We can talk about that after this meeting. Until then, Falrick, you¡¯re just going to wait for me to finish up with everyone else.¡±

    The Jarl droned on a bit more, mentioning some names the Wizard wasn¡¯t familiar with. Yet nearly everyone around seemed to know what it was about. Holter and his fellow followers talked about everything else that had happened in the past weeks. They regarded the orc, which Falrick now knew was named Silas, and his proposal of hiring orcs into the clan¡¯s fighting force. They now had a time and place for when that deal will be sealed.

    There was also talk about a potential business idea, one that involved the drunk dwarf at the table. They planned to sell alcohol to upcoming traders and passing merchants. Falrick himself wasn¡¯t sure how that was going to work out, but he had some doubts. Holter mentioned his deal with a trader from Vindis and his new followers. Elaine and Malik. The bard woman was nervous behind Holter, doing her best to blend in with the wall during the entire meeting.

    Holter explained her situation and how she proposed a way for their clan to make money. Before he could have her speak out her idea, however, the poor woman locked up and refused to go up to speak.

    ¡®A bard afraid of speaking in front of people. How curious.¡¯

    Falrick was entertained at the sight. His amusement fell short once he saw the necromancer step up. Malik had a sense of dread that followed him everywhere he went.

    Everyone in the room was visibly uncomfortable at the sight of the necromancer, their gazes breaking away from his piercing gaze.

    ¡°Greetings!¡± Malik called out. ¡°I am Malik Ymir. I am but a humble necromancer from Vindis, now a new follower of your Jarl.¡±

    More murmuring. Haggard spoke out the loudest. ¡°Necromancer? You reanimate and desecrate bodies?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather not use the word desecrate. I like the term reprocess.¡± Malik¡¯s comment only seemed to agitate the drifter.

    ¡°So you¡¯re a coward, then? You hide behind the undead and violate the deceased? Only weak men resort to such tactics,¡± Haggard commented.

    ¡°Oh, believe me. I am far from weak.¡± The necromancer chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯t need any undead to take care of you.¡±

    Haggard shifted in his chair before he set his hammer on the table. ¡°I¡¯d like to see you try,¡± he growled. Before anyone else could say or do anything, Malik took a step forward. Everything seemed to slow down. James was mid-way from getting up. Dahlia was making her way to intercept. Haggard had his hammer at the ready. Falrick was sure he was about to witness a brawl happen in front of him.

    Instead, the necromancer only made it two steps before he doubled over. A loud fizzle was heard throughout the longhouse, accompanied by pained laughter. Falrick stood up, trying to get a better view. His eyes widened when he saw the necromancer¡¯s hand. Purple magic sparked and crackled underneath the man¡¯s bandages. While obscured, Falrick could recognize that magic anywhere. This man was pacted. The question as to whom was answered quickly.

    ¡°Ah! Almost forgot about that condition,¡± Malik chuckled behind gritted teeth. ¡°Right, James?¡± He muttered out. Everyone stopped dead in their tracks. All eyes went to Holter, who stood silently. Falrick didn¡¯t know what to think about the implication, no, the reveal.

    The Jarl turned to the longhouse full of allies and newcomers. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s a long story.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°You did what?!¡± Dahlia couldn¡¯t believe what she was hearing. Of all the stupid things James could have done, this was one she never expected.

    ¡°It was out of necessity!¡± James argued.

    ¡°Pacting with a fucking necromancer was necessary?¡± Dahlia hissed. She had to make sure not to raise her voice too loud, despite her seething anger. While arguing, both of them were still in the proximity of their allies, who were on the other side of the longhouse¡¯s doors. The couple had taken a sidebar after everyone found out about Malik and James¡¯ pact.

    ¡°It was that or dying!¡± James pointed out.

    ¡°James, pacts are more than serious! They¡¯re life sentences! You might as well be signing off your future to that madman!¡± Dahlia felt a genuine shock at the idea of James doing something like this. It went against his beliefs, something he expressed strongly the first time they met. Seeing him resort to dark magic of this magnitude was something she didn¡¯t see coming.

    James sighed, his eyes avoiding contact with hers. ¡°I was cornered. I had no other choice but to offer him what he wanted. I thought a pact would restrain him enough.¡±

    Dahlia frowned. ¡°What exactly did he tell you?¡± She asked. ¡°What did he promise?¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t promise anything,¡± James revealed. ¡°He wanted to study me, to see what made me and Faust tick.¡± The blond man visibly clenched and unclenched his jaw. ¡°I didn¡¯t want him to follow me in the first place, but he and it was clear it was that or¡­ well, I already told you.¡±

    Dahlia crossed her arms. ¡°What were the conditions set?¡±

    ¡°He has to protect my allies and not kill unnecessarily. I gave him rules of engagement and restrictions on what bodies he could use.¡± James hesitated for a moment. ¡°In return, he gets my body after I die.¡± There was silence in the air. Everything seemed to stop at that moment.

    Dahlia stared at James, unsure if she had heard him right. ¡°He gets your body?¡± was all she could ask.

    ¡°After I die.¡±

    Dahlia didn¡¯t know how to feel about this. She wanted to yell, to scold, and to call him reckless. Yet she knew it would do nothing. The pact had already been made.

    ¡°Can I ask you something?¡± She asked. ¡°When you pass away, do you think he¡¯ll abide by your conditions, then? Do you believe he¡¯ll spare us after your body hits the ground?¡± Her words seem to hit James like a splash of cold water.

    However, the otherworldly man still continued to look off to the forest nearby. ¡°I¡¯m not going to die. Not for a long time,¡± he muttered.

    Dahlia frowned. ¡°How can you be so sure? We still can¡¯t heal your wound or prolong your bond.¡± As much as she wanted to, keeping James alive was proving to be nigh impossible. The wound was fatal, and the bond was a result of circumstance. The necromancer could probably find a way, but he clearly had no plans to revive James. He just wanted his body.

    ¡°I have a lead on something. Someone who can strengthen me. Someone who could give me answers,¡± James revealed. ¡°It came to me during my time in Vindis.¡±

    Dahlia felt skeptical. For all she knew, a drunk or escort babbling could have approached James about nonsense. The blond man seemed to realize this and quickly rushed to put her suspicions to rest.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t what you think. I saw it in a vision,¡± James stated.

    ¡°A vision?¡± Dahlia raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°I was under this dream-weaver spell,¡± James started, his gaze breaking away from the shaman. It was clear he didn¡¯t enjoy recounting this memory. ¡°Some witch put me under to keep me out of the fight. Had me stuck in a dream loop of my world. I only broke out of it because of that vision.¡±

    Dahlia felt a sense of dread in her gut. ¡°What was the vision, James?¡±

    ¡°I was back in the lake again. Like the other times¡­¡±

    Dahlia remembered those dreams. James had told her about them, how he would show up and be subjected to vague words and premonitions about his life. The shaman had her theories about their origin, but never came to a clear conclusion. Now, it seemed like James now knew.

    ¡°The two moons went red. Blood red,¡± James continued.

    ¡°Blood moons,¡± Dahlia whispered.

    The clan leader stopped for a moment. ¡°I saw the same thing in Seamus¡¯ memories, back when I tried to wake him. You know what they are or what they mean?¡±

    ¡°Blood moons are divine omens. No one knows why they appear or what god commands over them. All that is known is that when they show up, mass death is inevitable,¡± the shaman revealed.

    ¡°Mass death?¡±

    ¡°Bloodbaths. More specifically, the ones that catch the attention of the gods,¡± Dahlia explained. While mass bloodshed was commonplace around the world, Blood Moons weren¡¯t a regular occurrence. They were rare, to where it was speculated that they were caused when gods took notice. The raid on Yorn¡¯s fort was the last recorded instance of the omen. That¡¯s why you saw them in Seamus¡¯ memories.¡±

    ¡°Christ¡­¡± James muttered a curse from his homeworld.

    ¡°What else happened in your vision?¡±

    ¡°I saw it again. The damned slab. It was black this time, with red runes. Then I heard her,¡± he delivered the last word with a sense of agitation.

    ¡°Who?¡± Dahlia pressed.

    ¡°She proclaimed herself as Iendis, daughter of Myr and sister of Thien,¡± James revealed. ¡°She talked to me, saying that she had been watching me for a while now.¡±

    ¡°Iendis?¡± Dahlia repeated. That was a name she didn¡¯t expect to hear.

    ¡°Do you know anything about her?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Not much. I know about her brother. Thien is the boatman of Dremor, tasked with bringing dead souls to Helheim. There are children¡¯s stories about Thien, how he would infiltrate the minds of children, only to terrorize and feed off their despair¡­¡± Dahlia shivered.

    ¡°That¡¯s probably how Iendis got inside my head,¡± James realized aloud.

    Dahlia remembered the stories about how the boatman sought children to devour their dreams and perhaps themselves just to keep himself fed. Now they seemed so real. The shaman shivered again, her childlike fear from so long ago now slowly returning.

    ¡°Iendis told me to seek her out in the east. By the edge of Valenfrost,¡± James explained. ¡°She told me her worshippers will guide me to her.¡±

    ¡°Her worshippers¡­¡± Dahlia trailed off. She thought hard about the implications this Demi-goddess was sending to James. The promise of power and answers was common bait for nefarious deities. Myr himself was guilty of this. Yet, Iendis had been watching James since his arrival. She knew about his past dreams, judging from the visual similarities of these visions. If she had an ulterior motive, she probably would¡¯ve led James to her worshippers in the beginning.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to her.¡± Dahlia finally decided.

    James blinked in surprise. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to think this over?¡±

    ¡°No. If there¡¯s a chance she knows how to save you, then we¡¯re taking it.¡± Dahlia knew that this was quick. Hel, she knew this was too brash and unwise. The honest reason she was doing this was because time was growing short. The Sommar solstice was already here and fall would soon come. It had been three months since James¡¯ incident with Faust and there hadn¡¯t been a single lead on what could save him.

    Not only that, but Dahlia would be damned if she gave that necromancer what he wanted.

    ¡°We¡¯ll go after we finish with Silas¡¯ orcs. Until then, I¡¯ll see if I can dig up anything on Iendis,¡± Dahlia explained.

    James nodded. ¡°Got it, but, are we¡­?¡±

    ¡°We can argue later. For now, let¡¯s head back in there. They deserve an explanation for that pact you made.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 31: The Artifact

    Seamus yawned. The morning was still young, the sky still a dark purple. His body still ached, despite the couple days of rest he had. Normally, he would still be asleep, but James had called him to the longhouse to discuss something. The young man only knew that he was supposed to wait for the clan leader to call him in.

    ¡®What does he want to talk to me about? Shit, is it about what happened in Vindis?¡¯

    That made him shake a little. Seamus had no desire to recount those events, let alone relive them with James.

    ¡°Maybe I should go back to the¡ª¡±

    ¡°Seamus?¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice caught him off guard. Seamus jumped at the sound of her voice. The shaman was peeking out the longhouse¡¯s doors, her expression serious.

    ¡®She¡¯s here too?¡¯

    Seamus could feel the pressure on him increase at the thought of more people being behind those doors. If this was an intervention, he was going to lose it.

    Dahlia seemed to have noticed this, so she raised a comforting hand, her voice growing soft. ¡°It¡¯s not an intervention. You¡¯re among friends here.¡±

    Seamus nodded. ¡°Alright,¡± he muttered. He followed the shaman inside, closing the door behind him. Once inside, he noticed that the lighting was minimal. The firepit was alight, but the flames weren¡¯t as bright as the last time. James sat alone at the table, an open book in his hands. Seamus recognized it as the tome Nathan had sold to James back in Vindis, before they had left for Yorktown.

    Next to James, standing by the firepit, was a robed man Seamus didn¡¯t recognize at first. Upon closer inspection, however, the young man¡¯s heart dropped. It was Wizard Falrick. Seamus hadn¡¯t seen him since that night, back during the meeting they had. That night, he didn¡¯t have a chance to talk with him, since Falrick and James had to speak in private afterwards.

    Despite their brief contact then, Seamus still felt like he was looking at a ghost. ¡°I once thought you died back on that island,¡± he managed out in a breath. It was unreal. Even after Lowe¡¯s conspiracy, the rumors of Falrick, and even seeing him just a couple days ago, Seamus couldn¡¯t believe it. Falrick sighed as he turned to face Seamus. The old man looked like a mess. His eyes had heavy bags and his skin was much paler. His head only had a few wisps of hair and the robes he wore were a shadow of their former self.

    ¡°I¡¯m alive, Seamus,¡± Falrick sighed. ¡°Your friends here found me out not too long ago. I was hesitant to meet you at first, scared even. Now, however, I¡¯m starting to regret hiding from you all this time.¡±

    Seamus was silent at first. His emotions were mixed with all sorts of feelings. Anger, sorrow, shock, happiness. It all culminated before finally disappearing all together. A small, familiar voice came into the back of his thoughts.

    He left you to die. He left all of you to die on that forsaken island.

    ¡®Get out of my head.¡¯ Seamus forced that part of him down. It tried to force its way back into his thoughts, but Seamus fought back mentally, forcing the violent side of him to die down.

    ¡°Why are you here? Why did you all call me here?¡± He managed out. Seamus wanted this over with. He had initially thought he was ready for a confrontation with the Wizard, but it seemed that he needed more time.

    ¡°Falrick wanted to speak with you,¡± James revealed. ¡°He wanted to speak with all of us about his stay here.¡±

    ¡°What is it about?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°The item Lowe possesses,¡± Falrick spoke up. ¡°It is an artifact, once kept safe in Aldren¡¯s vault. Of course, I¡¯m sure you all know how that turned out.¡± Everyone murmured their agreements.

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t my fault¡­¡±

    ¡°I heard¡­¡±

    Falrick nodded before continuing, ¡°Anyway. I need to stress how important this statue is. How dangerous it can be.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°Lowe knows this already, but he has convinced me that the three of you can be trusted with its knowledge.¡± Falrick took a breath, his gaze downcast. ¡°The artifact Lowe retrieved from the vault is a piece of Bartholomew¡¯s Shrine. The infamous wish granting statue.¡±

    Seamus blinked in surprise. He wasn¡¯t sure if he had heard the Wizard right. His confirmation, however, came with the reactions of James and Dahlia. Dahlia cursed aloud, her calm demeanor turning into fear.

    James had a look of confusion, almost as if he didn¡¯t process it properly. Still, after seeing Dahlia react, the clan leader realized that he had heard right.

    ¡°Wish granting?¡± James asked in disbelief.

    ¡°Yes, wish granting,¡± Falrick confirmed. ¡°The shrine had once been a vital part of history, shaping the world to what we know now. It is the reason for our calendar, the reason behind the fall of many kingdoms, including the initial collapse of the Lumen Kingdom.¡± The Wizard rested on a chair. ¡°It has turned men into gods, others into living corpses, and more into bits of flesh. It was a blight on humanity, one that was thankfully ended more than a century ago.¡±

    Seamus remembered back to what Lowe had told him back on that island, back on Aldren. The gnome had desperately wanted to keep the statue out of orc hands. He even had been willing to go himself without the help of Seamus and his friends. Seamus had some thoughts about what the statue could be, but he never expected it to be one piece of the damn wishing shrine.

    ¡°I thought it was destroyed,¡± Seamus muttered. ¡°It was destroyed, wasn¡¯t it?¡± He repeated louder. He knew little about the artifact, but he remembered the stories and bardic songs about its end.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t,¡± Falrick revealed. ¡°It was only broken up into separate pieces. All the pieces were spread across Azura, but as you can guess, greed can do many things.¡± The Wizard looked at the three friends, who were all watching with looks of disbelief and curiosity. ¡°Yorn wanted to make sure these pieces were safely kept away from those who sought for them. That is why he hid the statue in Aldren¡¯s vault,¡± Falrick explained. ¡°The vault had enchantments in place to make sure the artifact wouldn¡¯t be discovered. Now, however, the vault is destroyed.¡±

    ¡°What can we do?¡± Dahlia asked. ¡°If what you¡¯re saying is true. If that statue is truly a piece of the shrine. What do we do? Can it even be destroyed?¡±

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°It can¡¯t be destroyed,¡± Seamus muttered. ¡°The original shrine had to be demolished through a wish and it didn¡¯t even destroy it properly. It is safe to say the pieces are just as durable.¡±

    ¡°Correct,¡± Falrick voiced his agreement. ¡°Believe me when I say that I¡¯ve tried to destroy these cursed pieces. The only way to deal with them is to keep them hidden and isolated. It isn¡¯t the best option, but it¡¯s our only one.¡±

    ¡°So how do we isolate this artifact?¡± James raised his head. Seamus could see that the clan leader was sporadically bouncing his knee.

    ¡®He¡¯s nervous.¡¯

    ¡°Our best option is to rebuild the vault in Aldren. I can put up the same enchantments as last time, but I need the vault rebuilt.¡± Falrick hesitated for a moment. ¡°I need your help. I am a lone Wizard. I cannot rebuild it. Therefore I approach you three. A clan of people, eager to help. I see that you have already rebuilt most of your own town, even extending it. I figure perhaps you can help rebuild Aldren¡¯s vault.¡±

    ¡°Rebuilding the vault¡­¡± James echoed.

    ¡°The island might be burnt to ash, but the foundation of the vault should still be there,¡± the Wizard said.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s unoccupied. With the storm veil gone, I have no doubts that Blood-Irk or rogue bandits might have taken it over,¡± James pointed out. He had a point. Seamus knew well that the storm veil would have only lasted a couple more months without the Wizard¡¯s involvement. Any bandit or orc tribe would have found it.

    ¡°Another reason I cannot do this alone,¡± Falrick added.

    ¡°If we¡¯re going to actually retake the island, we¡¯re going to need a battle plan, no?¡± Dahlia spoke up. Another good point. Rushing into an occupied island unprepared and without a plan would certainly lead to casualties and heavy losses.

    James nodded slowly. ¡°Yeah. We need to actually plan this out.¡± The clan leader looked at the Wizard. ¡°Can you scry the island, see what threats we could deal with?¡±

    ¡°I can, with a crystal ball,¡± Falrick answered.

    ¡°I might know a place where you can get one.¡± Seamus revealed. He recalled the last time he was in Nathan¡¯s shop. He had seen magic tools in that Wizard¡¯s shop, ranging from spell crystals to staffs with glistening gems. There was no doubt in his mind that the man had a crystal ball somewhere in that mess.

    ¡°Good, we can start soon on this plan, yes?¡± Falrick asked in a relieved tone. He appeared relieved, as though someone had lifted a weight from his shoulders.

    ¡°Actually,¡± James chuckled nervously. ¡°Here¡¯s the funny thing. We¡¯re pretty much broke.¡± His words reverberated in the walls of the longhouse. There was a deafening silence that followed right after, with everyone staring at each other with awkward looks.

    ¡°But, there is a chance that money will come in soon for us,¡± Seamus added quickly. ¡°It¡¯s just a matter of time until then.¡±

    Falrick frowned. ¡°How long will I have to wait?¡±

    ¡°Give us a couple months, tops,¡± James answered.

    The weird wording confused Falrick, but it didn¡¯t seem to bother him much. ¡°Alright. I can wait. As long as you keep your word on keeping the artifact isolated, I can work for you,¡± the Wizard agreed.

    ¡°Good to hear.¡± The clan leader let out a sigh. ¡°I guess that finishes up our meeting.¡± The blond man awkwardly stood up. ¡°If you excuse us, Dahlia and I have to go set up our next venture. I¡¯ll see you two later.¡± James gave off a wave before he left the longhouse. Dahlia sighed and stood up, following the otherworldly man out the tall doors.

    Seamus and Falrick were the only ones left in the meeting room, their gazes directed at the ground and ceiling.

    After some silence, Falrick spoke up. ¡°Your friends are something else. When it came to the artifact. I¡¯ve seen men crumple and beg for the thing. Kill and fight for it. Yet they took it surprisingly well.¡±

    ¡°Well, they¡¯ve been through a lot already,¡± Seamus commented.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard that James is a walking corpse, with another spirit that lives inside of him. Is that true?¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± Seamus disclosed. ¡°He got stabbed around last year, around the Frost solstice. Wound was fatal and impossible to stitch up in time. Dahlia infused a spirit into him to keep him alive.¡±

    Falrick¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Really? She managed to properly revive him?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but¡­¡± Seamus sighed. ¡°It caused a lot more problems than it solved.¡±

    ¡°The abominations, right?¡±

    ¡°How did you..?¡±

    ¡°Townspeople talk more than they should. Including the fact that your friend is from another world.¡± Falrick¡¯s words sent a shiver down Seamus¡¯ spine. ¡°This is a serious matter, Seamus,¡± Falrick muttered. ¡°He is in danger of Delphine¡¯s apostles and Myr¡¯s influence. Valenfrost nomads might not care as much, hel they might even see James as a symbol from the gods.¡±

    Seamus stood up. ¡°He¡¯ll be fine. James has always been fine. Everything we¡¯ve gone through, we¡¯ve always come out alive.¡±

    ¡°Do you really believe that?¡±

    Seamus stopped on his way to the doors. ¡°What are you getting at, Falrick?¡±

    The question made the Wizard shift in his seat, his hands fiddling as he stared at the floor. ¡°No one lives forever, Seamus. I myself thought once that Yorn was invincible. That he would never die and that he would come out on top.¡± Falrick¡¯s words struck a nerve in Seamus.

    The young man clenched his fists. ¡°Maybe he would still be alive if you didn¡¯t abandon him,¡± he spat.

    Falrick tensed up. ¡°I didn¡¯t¡­ I¡­¡± The Wizard stopped himself. He took a deep breath. ¡°I never meant for everything to go the way it went. I constantly think about it, Seamus. I¡¯m haunted by it. There isn¡¯t a day I go without thinking about it. But¡­ Every time I run the situation in my head, it comes out the same.¡± Falrick looked up from his downward gaze, making eye contact with Seamus. ¡°I did everything in my power that night and I still lost. Nothing would¡¯ve changed if I tried differently.¡±

    The young man was silent. Seamus felt his thoughts run wild, his emotions building up inside. He wanted to scream, to shout, and to hit the Wizard. Yet he held it all back. A few more seconds of silence passed by and Falrick stood up. The Wizard walked to Seamus before handing him a small pouch. The young man blinked in surprise. Before he could say anything, Falrick interrupted him.

    ¡°I have kept these safe since that night. I¡¯m not sure if it was out of solidarity or guilt, but I kept them. I want you to have it. Of course, I don¡¯t expect this to fix anything, but¡­ I hope it¡¯s enough.¡±

    With that, the Wizard left Seamus alone, leaving through the longhouse doors. The young Halvorson was now all alone, his hands holding onto the pouch Falrick left for him. Seamus took another look around, making sure that the doors were closed. Thankfully, it seemed that he was isolated from eavesdroppers and curious eyes. Seamus took a deep breath as he turned his focus back to the pouch.

    He slowly untied the thing with shaking fingers. The first thing that caught his eye was a pin. Gently grabbing it, Seamus realized it was the Halvorson coat of arms. It was shaped like a bear claw, its faded silver reflecting the light of the firepit.

    ¡®Is this my father¡¯s?¡¯ Seamus realized. He recognized the chipped part of the pin, a telltale sign it belonged to the late Yorn.

    Seamus swallowed hard, trying his best to keep himself composed. He clenched the pin, a feeling of sorrow filling his heart. Still, he was not done. There was something else in the pouch. He reached into it once more. This time, his fingers grazed the recognizable feeling of string. He grabbed it and pulled it out. Seamus was met with the sight of a small golden necklace. The weight that hung off it was in the unmistakable shape of a rose petals. The young man stared at it, his body suddenly feeling as if something was stabbing his chest.

    Staring at his mother¡¯s necklace, his vision slowly went blurry. Seamus felt tears fall from his eyes, landing on the pouch Falrick gave to him.

    ¡°Dammit¡­¡± he managed out in between breaths. Seamus clenched tightly onto the necklace and pin. He could feel how his built up emotions overflowed. The young man covered his mouth in an attempt to control himself. In due time, however, he found himself clutching onto the last memories of his parents, tears freely flowing down his cheeks before being followed by stifled cries.

 B.3 Chapter 32: Journey to the East

    ¡°And so, we make money!¡± Elaine¡¯s exclamation echoed, nearly deafening James. He resisted the urge to rub his ear in pain. Currently, the clan leader was at the harbor, watching as the bard made her proposition. He felt the need to cringe at the entire presentation, which had taken a solid hour out of his day.

    ¡°Plays?¡± James asked once more. ¡°You want to do plays about me?¡±

    ¡°Yes! Plays about your story, your fights, and your otherworldly past!¡±

    ¡°Otherworldly? Who told you that?¡± James was genuinely surprised that this bard knew about his situation.

    The young woman chuckled nervously. ¡°I uh¡­ Might have been eavesdropping¡­¡± Elaine embarrassingly revealed.

    ¡°Oh god.¡± James placed his hands over his face. It was already enough that Yorktown knew about it. Now that a bard knew about it, James might as well scream his Earth connection to all of Vindis.

    ¡°Well, what do you think of my proposition?¡± Elaine managed a mutter.

    James sighed, his hands dropping to his lap. ¡°I don¡¯t think I have a choice, do I? Otherwise, you¡¯re just going to go off to Vindis to spill everything about me.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t do that! Well¡­ I don¡¯t think I will¡­¡± The bard fiddled with her braid.

    James took a frustrated breath. ¡°Either way, there¡¯s not much reason for me to say no. Even if people take you seriously, there¡¯s not much more danger you can pin on me,¡± he admitted.

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Really. Lumen Knights, rival clans, bloodthirsty orcs, and abominations beyond my comprehension, I have enough after me. Doesn¡¯t make a difference if they find out where I¡¯m from.¡± He shrugged.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ That¡¯s a concerning amount of enemies.¡± Elaine sat down across from James, her expression that of amazement. ¡°Tell me your story now! I have to know how this all happened!¡±

    The blond man sighed as he scratched his beard. As he pondered on his past, his eye caught a crew nearby, their hands carrying barrels and crates.

    ¡°Later. Right now, I have to set up for the next venture.¡± James stood up.

    ¡°Next venture?¡±

    ¡°Orc recruitment,¡± James answered simply as he headed off to help Dimitri and the crew as they loaded up on supplies. The ship they were stocking was none other than Draugr¡¯s Haunt, which looked ready for another journey. He was starting to like the longship, despite the uncomfortable name it bore. Frostbite was always going to be his first vessel, but it was too slow to be useful outside of combat and trading capacity.

    As James picked up a crate, he noted Falrick was standing nearby, staring intently at the hull of Frostbite. The Wizard looked to be intrigued with the runic symbols on the side of the ship, going so far as to lean closer to get a better look.

    ¡°Something wrong with the paintwork?¡± James called out as he passed the crate to Liam.

    ¡°Where did you get this ship?¡± Falrick asked, his finger pointed at the hull.

    ¡°Well, it was given to me. A while back, actually,¡± James answered.

    ¡°Who gave it?¡± The Wizard prodded.

    ¡°You won¡¯t believe me if I tell you,¡± James grunted as he passed another barrel to the crew.

    ¡°Try me.¡± Falrick prompted.

    The clan leader sighed and stopped his work. ¡°Deimos.¡±

    ¡°The Red Death? He left you this?¡± The Wizard did a double take at the brig.

    ¡°When the marauders first came here, we kicked their ass,¡± James started. ¡°I guess that impressed Deimos, and he left the ship for me. Said that every hero deserves a reward at the end of their quest.¡±

    ¡°That is quite something,¡± Falrick muttered as he turned back to the ship. ¡°Do you mind if I examine this vessel?¡± He asked.

    ¡°As long as you don¡¯t sail off with it, sure,¡± James joked as he struggled to drag a barrel to the longship nearby.

    Despite the Wizard¡¯s infatuation with the brig, James prioritized helping the crew. ¡°How long are we going to be out there?¡± He asked as he handed Dimitri a crate of rations.

    ¡°Possibly a few days, at least. Week at most,¡± the shipmaster revealed. ¡°It¡¯s a far-off island, closer to the abyssal sea than Valenfrost.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s Silas?¡± James questioned.

    ¡°The orc? He¡¯s currently gathering a few of his own. Said that it¡¯ll make the orc tribe much more comfortable doing business.¡±

    ¡®I hope Silas is right about them. The last thing I need is a tribe of orcs just like the ones back in Aldren.¡¯

    James remembered what he saw back on that cursed day. He couldn¡¯t forget the bodies on those pikes, the images coming back to him every once in a while. While Silas and his own group were nothing like Blood-Irk¡¯s tribe, it still bothered him they had once been allied.

    ¡®Let¡¯s look at the brighter side. They¡¯re under your control now. I¡¯m also sure they¡¯re too terrified of your Draugr persona to actually disobey you,¡¯ Faust pointed out.

    James furrowed his brow. ¡®You¡¯re right, but¡­ Do those other orcs know that?¡¯ The realization unnerved him. James could keep Silas and his rabble under control through their fear of his abilities. The foreign orcs, on the other hand, knew nothing of it and haven¡¯t even seen nor heard of ¡®Draugr¡¯.

    ¡®What are you planning?¡¯ Faust asked.

    ¡®Not sure, but I don¡¯t think simple diplomacy is going to work with these orcs.¡¯

    Silas was the only exception to that. The rest, not so much.

    James was going to have to come up with something to make sure these new orcs didn¡¯t deviate towards Blood-Irk¡¯s example.

    <hr>

    Gustus sat nervously in the lone tent, his hands clutching onto the folds of his breeches. It was nerve racking, sitting in Deimos¡¯ quarters, awaiting the chieftain and his right hand. It had all started when Ivana had come asking about a draugr, one that roamed the south. Gustus had raised his hand without even thinking, which in turn caused the marauder woman to pick him over his fellow men. He silently chastised himself for outing himself so early. Gustus was sure there were others in that brig who remember that damned man.

    ¡®It¡¯s fine. Just tell them what you know and move on¡­¡¯

    Gustus tried to calm himself, to make sure that he was coherent enough to hold an actual conversation. Yet, there was that nagging feeling that it was not so simple. Deimos had a reason for this. No man would ask about some vague myth if he didn¡¯t have intentions. The marauder hoped that anything he said would not piss off the chieftain. Gods knows what will happen if he said something unfavorable.

    As Gustus internally panicked, the tent flap opened up. The marauder jumped a little, but kept himself composed. Deimos and Ivana entered the tent, their gazes moving to the lone man. Gustus could feel the disdain from Deimos¡¯ stare. He had to force himself not to break his posture. Doing so would mean weakness.

    ¡°I know you,¡± The Red Death slowly spoke, his eyebrow raised as he recognized the former bandit.

    ¡°You do, my lord?¡± Gustus managed out.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Deimos snapped his fingers. ¡°You¡¯re Lars¡¯ handler, no?¡±

    ¡°I am simply his guide, sir,¡± Gustus explained. ¡°I was his former cellmate, so I¡¯m the only one who knows him¡­¡±

    ¡°Yet he tried to kill you during the orientation,¡± Deimos pointed out.

    Gustus managed a weak chuckle. ¡°Lars is a bloodthirsty man by nature. Just because I know him doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m exempt from his rampages.¡±

    That made Deimos smile. ¡°Good to know that he doesn¡¯t discriminate.¡± The chieftain pulled a nearby crate to himself. Using it as a seat, the Red Death sat across from the ex-convict. ¡°Ivana tells me that you know of the Draugr. Can you tell me how?¡±

    ¡°He is the reason I¡¯m here, my lord,¡± Gustus revealed.

    ¡°Really?¡± Deimos tilted his head.

    ¡°Yes. I was part of a bandit crew around the south. We raided ships that were en route to Vindis,¡± Gustus told his story to the chieftain, quickly explaining his situation from before. ¡°It happened during the New Year Transition. We were raiding a ship that was coming from Vindis. Before we knew it, however¡­ He came.¡±

    ¡°The Draugr?¡±

    ¡°He came from a long ship, nothing like the ones I saw before,¡± Gustus muttered. ¡°It had black sails depicting a white raven and had orcs on its deck. It rammed in between both ships. Before we knew it, they were attacking us.¡± The marauder¡¯s story had Deimos infatuated. The chieftain was at the edge of his seat, listening to every word carefully.

    ¡°The orcs were already a problem, same as some of his allies. If it was just them, we might¡¯ve been able to fend them off and get away.¡± Gustus took a breath. ¡°If it was just them. Before we could react, he made his appearance known.¡±

    ¡°The Draugr, what did he look like?¡± Deimos asked.

    ¡°He had a helmet on, but I could still see his shaggy hair. It was blond. Looked unkempt. He had a beard as well, darker in color. His eyes¡­¡± The marauder shuddered. ¡°They glowed like flames, their light enough to showcase what was underneath. Everyone stopped at that. Then and there, I realized the Draugr name was not a coincidence. He looked like one.¡± Gustus could still remember that night. He remembered everything about it, including the smell of berries and burnt wood. ¡°Our leader challenged him to a fight. The rest of us watched.¡±

    ¡°How did the fight go?¡± Deimos pressed.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I could call it that,¡± Gustus answered. ¡°Our leader might have been trained in sword fighting, but the Draugr was different.¡± His style is nothing I recognized. He was stumbling a little, like he was drunk, but every movement and strike was precise and accurate. It was strange. It was like watching someone on the edge of sleep, dropping and coming back up in a moment¡¯s notice.¡± Gustus sighed as he recalled the night. It still bothered him how it went down. It was terrifying, seeing someone skilled lose to something so strange.

    ¡°In the end, our leader lost. We were taken to Vindis, and he turned us into the city watch. After that, I was sent to Bernis¡¯ dungeons. You could guess where I ended up after everything.¡± The marauder finished his story, his gaze moving to the ground.

    ¡°Vindis, huh?¡± was all Deimos responded with. Gustus raised his head, catching the expression on the chieftain¡¯s face. He had a growing smile on his face, his eyes focused on the roof of his tent.

    Deimos stood up. ¡°Set up Virtus¡¯ Curse for a voyage,¡± He called to Ivana. The young woman furrowed her brow.

    ¡°To where?¡±

    ¡°To the south,¡± Deimos answered as he headed for the tent¡¯s entrance. ¡°Get Eli as well, we¡¯ll be needing him and Gustus for this.¡±

    ¡°Why are we going to the south?¡±

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    The Red Death chuckled as he opened the tent flap. ¡°Just a scouting mission. Nothing serious, yet.¡±

    <hr>

    Salt water sprayed against the deck of the longship, making it harder for James to get a good grip. ¡°Winds are getting stronger lately!¡± Dimitri shouted over. The shipmaster was busy tying knots and pulling the sails to their desired position.

    ¡°Will we be able to reach our destination in time?¡± James called back.

    ¡°With these winds? Either we¡¯ll get there early or not at all!¡± The older man answered.

    ¡°Looks like Sommar is in full effect,¡± Liam commented behind James.

    ¡°Sommar?¡±

    ¡°Bloom¡¯s sunnier sister,¡± the steerer followed up. ¡°Windier than usual and with much more rain than last time.¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡± James grimaced. The cold rain during Bloom was already enough to leave anyone with a nasty cold. Now that they were going to be increased, it only made the blond man even more nervous about going out.

    ¡®Maybe I should invest in a hooded poncho, like the one Dahlia has¡­¡¯

    At least she looked warm. Not just that, but the cloak looked cooler than his standard wool cape and hood.

    ¡°When we come back, I¡¯ll ask,¡± James muttered to himself.

    ¡°Alas, at least there¡¯s the Midsommar festival to make up for the damned rain,¡± Dimitri commented.

    ¡°Midsommar?¡± James asked.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know about the festival?¡± Elaine¡¯s voice butted in from behind. The bard was currently sitting nearby, along with Malik who boredly stared out into the sea. The necromancer didn¡¯t look to be interested in whatever they were speaking about.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t.¡± James turned to face the bard.

    Elaine shook her head, laughing. ¡°I guess that goes to show that you truly are an Outlander.¡± The bard sat up straight. ¡°The Midsommar festival is a widely celebrated holiday across Azura, not just Valenfrost. It¡¯s full of food, music, and dancing.¡±

    ¡°So, just the Bloom festival?¡±

    ¡°Not like the Bloom festival,¡± Dahlia called out from her side of the ship. The shaman chuckled. ¡°While Midsommar is celebrated throughout Azura, Valenfrost celebrates it differently.¡±

    Dahlia shifted in her seat, moving so that she was facing James. ¡°Bloom is a celebration of the spirits who have lived before, namely lost loved ones and friends. Midsommar is slightly different. Midsommar is about moving on. It¡¯s about life and its virtues. To let us focus on the life we still have.¡± James could hear how Dahlia¡¯s voice turned wistful, her gaze moving to the waves of the choppy sea. ¡°Bloom is about celebrating the past while Midsommar is about celebrating the future.¡±

    James smiled a little. ¡°To the future, then.¡±

    That was enough to get the shaman to smile. ¡°To the future, my Jarl.¡±

    <hr>

    The island was in view, if it could be called that. It was more akin to a mini isle, bare of any life aside from the visible longships and tents. Not a tree was in sunlight, the only green thing being the sparse grass that covered most of the landmass.

    ¡°Is this the spot?¡± James asked.

    ¡°It is,¡± Silas answered. The orc handed the clan leader a spotting glass, still extended. James peered through the glass, focusing on the tents.

    Sure enough, there were orcs. These looked much different from Blood-Irk¡¯s rabble. They wore what looked like mercenary armor, which differed from leather, to gambeson, and even partial steel. Thankfully, they had no visible indicators of being man eaters. The bones that hung from their ships and tents looked foreign and nothing like a human¡¯s. They reminded James of those enlarged fossils people found back on Earth, like the megalodon or dinosaur remnants.

    ¡°What bones are those?¡± he muttered to himself.

    ¡°Serpent and leviathan skulls,¡± Silas answered regardless. ¡°They¡¯re hunters, from the looks of it. I believe they enjoy killing and eating dangerous creatures.¡±

    ¡°A step up from humans,¡± James commented. ¡°Are they expecting us?¡± The blond man added quickly as he collapsed the spotting glass.

    ¡°Orcs do their business abruptly. Trying to organize with them will show that you are not willing to allow them to run free.¡±

    James frowned. ¡°Well, I will not let them pillage and raid whenever they feel like it.¡±

    ¡°You can still hold them back. You just need it to look like it¡¯s their idea,¡± Silas advised.

    ¡°Got it.¡± The clan leader sighed. ¡°So, who¡¯s coming?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be you, I, Goruk, and Fingers.¡±

    ¡°None of my other allies?¡±

    ¡°Again, orcs respect orcs. Bringing a human aside from you will only make it complicated.¡±

    James nodded. ¡°Alright then¡­¡± He looked at Dahlia, who sighed.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, James. We¡¯ll be here if you need us.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± James smiled. With that, the clan leader and the orc headed off to gather the landing crew.

    It thankfully didn¡¯t take long for them to make it to shore, since Draugr¡¯s Haunt could safely make it to the shallows. James could only wonder what went through the foreign tribe¡¯s heads as a human walked up to their encampment, followed by a group of orcs right behind him. It didn¡¯t take long, since orcs were already dispatched with readied weapons and shields. The quickness of it all was enough to make James internally curse. He was even about to use his trump card before Silas raised a hand.

    ¡°We come in peace,¡± the orc called out. That seemed to halt their advance, their voices murmuring and clamoring.

    ¡°In peace?¡± One shouted.

    ¡°Yes, in peace. It is I, Silas! I talked to your leader months back, around the new year¡¯s transition!¡±

    ¡°Silas?¡± Among the crude voices of the orcs came a much more dignified one. It was like Silas¡¯, albeit without the noble tones and proper wording.

    The line of orcs was broken up by a much bigger one. He was taller than Silas, his brawn much bigger and his skin much lighter. Yet he held himself better than his own orcs. This orc even looked less deformed, his skin lacking pockmarks and his underbite less pronounced.

    ¡°You¡¯ve come back¡­¡± The orc raised an eyebrow. ¡°With a human, no less.¡±

    ¡°Horuk, it is nice to see you again.¡± Silas grinned.

    ¡°Have you come back to consider our request?¡± The orc named Horuk asked.

    ¡°This is my leader, as requested. The Draugr of the South, James Holter,¡± Silas gestured to the clan leader, who was standing next to him. That was enough for all the orcs ahead to stare at James, who awkwardly stared back.

    ¡°This is your draugr?¡± Horuk asked.

    Before Silas could answer, James stepped up. It wouldn¡¯t look right if he allowed him to do all the talking.

    ¡°I am,¡± James stated. ¡°I¡¯m the Draugr you¡¯ve all heard of.¡± More murmuring followed his words by the orcs, who all snickered and gave looks of amusement.

    Even Horuk looked like he was holding back laughter. ¡°I expected something scarier. Like the Red Death of the North or one of the gods¡¯ chosen.¡±

    ¡°Well, I hate to disappoint you all, but I¡¯m nothing like those people,¡± James admitted. That caused even more laughter among the orcs.

    ¡°Silas, what did you bring me?¡± Horuk questioned. ¡°I asked if you had a competent leader and you told us yes. Yet this man looks like fodder. I doubt he¡¯s what you said.¡± Before Silas could speak, James raised a hand. He gave the orc a look, one that said: ¡®Let me take care of this¡¯. The orc nodded, stepping away from the conversation.

    ¡°What did Silas tell you?¡± James asked.

    ¡°He told me he was led by a man who was beyond comprehension. A man who fought off Blood-Irk¡¯s tribe and won. One who killed Lumen Knights and survived the Red Death himself.¡± Horuk tilted his head. ¡°You look nothing like that kind of man.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± James scoffed.

    ¡°Really,¡± the orc huffed.

    The clan leader nodded, his hand moving to his chin.

    ¡®A simple show of power would be enough¡­ Right?¡¯

    He thought about showcasing the eye trick, which had once been enough to make the orcs behind him follow his command.

    ¡®No. That won¡¯t work here,¡¯ Faust commented. ¡®Remember the Thieves Guild? Even when you used it, it wasn¡¯t enough to make Markov instantly side with you. To show real power, you have to use it. Flashing your skull isn¡¯t going to earn respect.¡¯ The Centurion was right. James had to showcase his power in a fight.

    However, there was the problem of what he was going to fight. To get the Thieves Guild on his side, James had to deal with a necromancer. To get his orc following, James had used his draining ability on some random greenskin. The clan leader looked at the orcs in front of him, their judgmental gazes fixed on him.

    ¡°I got it.¡± James raised a finger. ¡°How about we duel for it?¡±

    ¡°Duel?¡± Horuk¡¯s amused expression was washed away.

    ¡°You and me. You doubt my skills. Why don¡¯t you test them?¡± James raised his arms in a challenge.

    ¡°James, I don¡¯t think¨C¡± Silas¡¯ warning was cut off by Horuk¡¯s bolstering laugh.

    ¡°If you wish! I doubt you¡¯ll be able to win.¡± The orc leader sounded amused.

    ¡°Then bet your tribe on it,¡± James replied. ¡°I win, you all swear loyalty to me!¡± He gestured to all the orcs nearby.

    Horuk laughed once more, this time with all of his tribe. ¡°Sure. If I win, however, I will get your ship.¡± The orc pointed to Draugr¡¯s Haunt, which had its crew visibly leaning over to get a better look.

    James hesitated for a moment, but he forced himself to reply. ¡°Deal.¡±

    ¡°James!¡± Silas exclaimed. ¡°Are you sure you want to fight, Horuk?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± the clan leader answered as he stepped up to the shore. If he was going to earn any respect from them, this was the way to do it. Talking it out was not an option. The orcs around Horuk backed up as James approached, leaving both opponents alone on the gravel shore.

    ¡°No preparations?¡± Horuk asked as he reached for the war hammer that hung off his back.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t need any,¡± James answered as he pulled his short sword out.

    ¡®Then again, it would¡¯ve been nice to have my shield on me¡­¡¯

    It was already too late for that anyway. The damned thing was somewhere on the longship, long forgotten. Either way, shield or no shield, James had a tactic in his back pocket he had been itching to use since his time in Vindis.

    The two combatants stared at each other for a solid half minute, their gazes locked on each other. James wondered how Dahlia was reacting to this from her view. She was probably yelling angrily, cursing his name in every way. He smiled at the thought. He was pretty stupid.

    Horuk was the first to rush, the orc already mid-swing with his warhammer. James felt Faust¡¯s reflexes kick in, the spirit¡¯s hold now in control of his body. In a moment¡¯s notice, the blond man was underneath the swing, his sword on course for the orc¡¯s torso. The blade slashed green flesh, leaving a shallow cut on the torso. James snapped back into his body right after, his feet stumbling to keep balance. The orcs around went silent, their faces contorting in shock and surprise.

    Horuk himself had a look of confusion. The orc looked down at his abdomen, where James left his cut. ¡°A lucky hit,¡± he growled.

    ¡°You want to test that?¡± James asked with a grin. Horuk roared as he charged once more, his movements now faster than before. James clenched his left fist, focusing his reserves as he rushed ahead.

    Without thinking about it, the blond man gave his control to Faust, allowing the Centurion to quickly dodge Horuk¡¯s downward swing. Once the hammer flew by harmlessly, James was back in control. James raised his knee in the awkward position, aiming to hit the orc during his strike. Horuk was low enough for James to exploit his unprotected face. Success. While not enough to do serious damage, the knee was enough to make Horuk stumble back in a daze.

    James raised his left hand, forming the proper rune. ¡°Summon Ice!¡± The reserves in his body reacted to the words, their ley lines transferring power to his formed fingers. Ice formed around James¡¯ hand, the frost ever changing. For only a few seconds, he could form the ice into whatever shape he wanted. Thankfully, he only needed one.

    James shaped the ice into makeshift brass knuckles, identical to the ones he had seen in Earth movies and video games. Without wasting time, he punched Horuk in the face, shattering ice and impacting bone. His knuckles screamed with pain, but James pushed through. The orc fell back from the hit, his nose bleeding profusely. In the end, Horuk was on the ground, while James stood with bruised knuckles.

    ¡®Christ, that hurts!¡¯ James internally exclaimed in pain. While he was visibly calm, the young man was truthfully hurting from the pain.

    ¡®You summoned the ice too soon. It had little time to harden before you punched him.¡¯ Faust chastised.

    James sighed as he turned to Silas.

    ¡®Note taken.¡¯

    The new spell James was using was a courtesy of the tome Nathan had sold him back in Vindis. The book was an introduction to cryomancy, allowing James to practice and use ice spells.

    The first and most basic one was summon ice, which allowed the clan leader to form ice into whatever shape he wanted. It was the same spell Gryff used to form his dagger. James was hoping to master it soon, but it looked like he had more to learn.

    ¡®I¡¯ll have more time back home¡ª¡¯

    ¡°James, watch out!¡±

    Silas¡¯ warning snapped the blond man back into the real world. Without waiting to see what the orc was shouting about, James dropped to the ground. It was the best decision he made. He watched as a warhammer swung over where his head used to be, hitting nothing but air. He could see the orc behind it, which turned out to be his own opponent.

    While he avoided death, James felt far from relieved. Instead, he was fucking pissed. Without warning, James quickly sprang up from the ground, his left hand reaching for Horuk¡¯s angered face.

    The blond man grabbed the orc¡¯s face, his arm and face burning hot as he looked into Horuk¡¯s head. Images flashed in front of his eyes, showcasing the orc¡¯s life. He saw the past hunts of the orc, watching as Horuk took trophies from serpents and massive leviathans. He watched as Horuk fought against Blood-Irk¡¯s orcs, red armor signifying their loyalty. Images of other islands in the east flashed, showcasing barren isle and forested territories. People in black cloaks, an island home to a small village. Once James was finished with looking through, he stopped the drain.

    James was now standing over Horuk, whose angry look was now that of fear and surprise. A handprint was seared into his green flesh, followed by remnants of ice and frost. James felt his eyes burned with magical power, the glow enough to reflect off of the orc¡¯s irises. The Draugr stood up, his gaze moving to the orcs nearby.

    They all backed up, their looks of amusement now replaced with fear and respect. James raised his left hand, which was covered in frost. He clenched it, shattering the ice. ¡°You are all my followers. Any complaints?¡±

 B.3 Chapter 33: Mist

    James rotated his hurting wrist, cursing to himself as he nursed his knuckles.

    ¡°Those were amazing movements!¡± Malik exclaimed. ¡°The way you and that spirit switched and fought!¡± The necromancer pressed his ear against James¡¯ back, causing the clan leader some discomfort.

    ¡°Is this really necessary?¡± James grimaced as Malik poked at him.

    ¡°What I saw was beyond what you showed me back in that city. Were you two holding back on me?¡±

    ¡°Not really.¡± James shook his head. ¡°Depending on the situation, Faust and I usually make up the tactics as we go. An orc reacts differently than an unfeeling draugr.¡± James flexed his left hand, the bandages of which were wearing down a little.

    ¡®I need these changed soon. Maybe when we get back home.¡¯

    The blond man groaned as he stood up. He could feel his tired body react to his exertion, his stomach growling for substance.

    ¡®I really hope there¡¯s enough food on that longship,¡¯ Faust muttered.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hope we don¡¯t burn through rations,¡± James agreed underneath his breath.

    As the clan leader debated food with the spirit, Silas was off to the distance, speaking with Horuk and the rest of the orcs. James¡¯ flashy proposition was enough to make the poor bastards hesitant to look him in the eye.

    ¡°Was it too much?¡± he asked aloud.

    ¡°You know damn well it was!¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice chastised. James cringed a little. He turned around to see the shaman in the shallows, her angry form wading through the waist high water.

    ¡°Ah shit¡­¡±

    ¡°Ah shit is right! What the hell were you thinking?!¡± Dahlia shouted. ¡°Risking yourself like that, you idiot!¡±

    ¡°I had it covered.¡±

    ¡°Covered?¡± Dahlia stopped in the waters, her brow furrowing. ¡°You nearly lost your head!¡±

    ¡°Well¡­ I¡­ Ah¡­¡± James tried to find a reason to tell her he expected it. Yet even he knew that was bullshit. ¡°Point taken.¡±

    ¡°Dammit, James.¡± The shaman shook her head as she made it to shore. ¡°How¡¯s his wounds?¡± She asked Malik.

    ¡°Little to none,¡± Malik responded. ¡°Other than drawbacks from his drain and that punch he threw, both him and Faust are alright.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± Dahlia sighed in relief. ¡°I will admit one thing, that duel of yours worked.¡± She gestured to Silas and Horuk. Both orcs were speaking, their voices unheard from a distance. Yet even James could see how Horuk nodded and gestured, the look on his face now that of excitement.

    ¡°Funny, I thought they¡¯d be more pissed,¡± James said.

    ¡°Orcs have a hierarchy,¡± Dahlia explained. ¡°Strongest of the strong will always remain on top.¡± She turned to James. ¡°Clearly, they don¡¯t take you for granted.¡±

    ¡°Is that a good thing or a bad thing?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Depends on what kind of leader you¡¯ll be. What example you¡¯ll set for them,¡± Dahlia warned. The clan leader could feel chills in his spine from her words. What kind of man would he be? When the time came, would his example be enough to influence the orc? It was best not to overthink things. After all, James only had three months left until Frost came around. The short notice was because of Valenfrost¡¯s stunted years.

    While Earth had twelve months, Valenfrost only had ten that were extended by a week. Currently, they were in Somme, one month before Midsommar and two before the Gale solstice. Gale only lasted for a month and a half before Frost came around. The information had come out left field for James, who had assumed there were twelve months instead of ten. As usual, he was left in the dark for the first half of the year, leaving him clueless to it all.

    ¡®Speaking of being in the dark¡­¡¯

    James looked over at Dahlia. ¡°I might know where Iendis¡¯ worshippers are,¡± he muttered in a low voice, as to not be overheard by Malik.

    ¡°Really?¡± Dahlia perked up.

    ¡°Back when I grabbed Horuk, I saw his memories. Specifically, what he saw this last year.¡± James recalled the image of hooded figures and their island. ¡°There¡¯s an island not too far from here. Has a small village on it.¡±

    ¡°Do you know the exact location?¡±

    James shook his head. ¡°I only saw flashes of it, but I¡¯m sure Horuk knows where it could be.¡± It was a longshot of a guess. Hell, James wasn¡¯t even sure if the island was where Iendis¡¯ worshipers lived on.

    ¡®But if there¡¯s even a slight chance of it being hers¡­¡¯

    That vision was replaying itself over and over in his mind. James was close to going insane over the memory of it all. The blood moons and runic slab, it all felt too personal to him. It all had to mean something. Iendis knew something about James. She had the answers.

    ¡°James.¡± Dahlia nudged the man, breaking him out of his thought process. He raised his head, wondering what got her attention. He got his answer in the form of a lively shout.

    ¡°Draugr!¡± It was Horuk. The orc¡¯s boisterous voice was enough to make the blond man jump. Still, he kept his composure enough to straighten himself out and make sure he didn¡¯t show weakness. The orc he had fought was across the beach from him, smiling with his crooked teeth and waving to him. Before James could question it, the orc shouted once more,

    ¡°First thing on the morrow, we shall make our way to your island as followers!¡± Horuk slammed a fist to his chest. ¡°For the Draugr!¡± He shouted. The orcs behind him all gave their own salutes, their shouts accompanying him. James stared at the sight in awe. An inkling of pride blossomed in his chest, causing the otherworldly man to return the salute.

    ¡°For the White Raven,¡± he called back with a grin.

    <hr>

    Gwenyth watched the glow on the distant horizon, her gaze focusing on the buoys that floated passively. ¡°Interesting,¡± she muttered. ¡°Ley lines are too deep to be accessed normally, but with the help of these buoys, they can connect the city and its inhabitants.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a poor design, leaving them out in the open for anyone to destroy.¡± William pointed out.

    ¡°I doubt they do all the work,¡± Gwenyth commented. ¡°They looked to just be receivers to the real thing.¡± The elf and the herald were conversing about none other than the city of Vindis. In only a short time, they would pass through a checkpoint for longships. Once they got past that, they would dock at the northern harbor.

    It was simple, but Gwenyth felt more than a little worried. If these people had this kind of advanced magic, they would surely have something to weed out threats?

    ¡°Magic or not, these savages are all the same,¡± Arthur called out. ¡°Past all the magic marvels, this city is just as much of a shithole as the rest of Valenfrost.¡± He was fitting on his gear, which included the sword given to him by Delphine¡¯s clergy.

    ¡°Are they going to allow you in with that?¡± Gwenyth pointed at the sword.

    ¡°With enough coin, they¡¯ll turn a blind eye,¡± Arthur explained as he brought out two king pieces.

    ¡°Where¡¯s your contact?¡± William asked.

    ¡°Near the slums of this forsaken place.¡± Arthur strapped on his belt, making sure that his satchel and potions were on the right. ¡°She¡¯ll be waiting for us there.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s this contact of yours?¡± Gwenyth asked.

    ¡°Someone you¡¯ll get to know later,¡± Arthur simply replied.

    ¡°That¡¯s not an answer,¡± the elf argued.

    ¡°It¡¯s the only one you¡¯re going to get,¡± Arthur spat back.

    ¡°Keeping me in the dark will not make this any easier.¡±

    The former apostle stopped at those words. He took a deep breath, his eyes closing. He looked like he was in thought. ¡°Fine,¡± He muttered finally. Arthur turned to Gwenyth. ¡°Our contact is a dark magic user, one versed in rituals and demonology. We need their help, not only to locate our target, but to figure out what this fracture really is.¡±

    ¡°Are they trustworthy?¡±

    ¡°They have no reason to lie to me,¡± Arthur said. ¡°They know better than to do that.¡± His vague answer was enough to rub the elf the wrong way. Still, she didn¡¯t prod further. Judging from the tone of his voice, Arthur was more than sure this magic user would help. To what extent, Gwenyth almost didn¡¯t want to know.

    <hr>

    Gustus nervously stuck close to Eli, who simply walked without a care. ¡°Is it safe to be here?¡± He asked in a low voice. Both marauders were currently in the depths of Vindis city, which was more than hostile to the Red Death¡¯s cause.

    ¡°We¡¯re fine,¡± the blind spellcaster called out. ¡°If anyone tries something, we¡¯ll just kill them.¡± He chuckled.

    ¡°Kill them. Right¡­¡± He had said that as if it was nothing but an inconvenience. Gustus felt more and more uncomfortable with Eli as time went on. This scouting mission did nothing to help that. Eli had been nonchalant about everything, his carefree attitude concerning the marauder. Still, he refused to talk back or even refuse orders. Eli was still his superior. ¡°What are we looking for here?¡±

    ¡°Any remnants of that Draugr you witnessed,¡± Eli responded. ¡°Tell me, where did he turn you in?¡±

    ¡°Around the docks. I was taken into the city center by him and some of the watch.¡±

    ¡°Center? Like that tower over there?¡± Eli pointed to the tall building that rested ahead.

    ¡°Yes, that tower. It¡¯s the city center where the clan leaders meet up,¡± Gustus confirmed.

    ¡°Good, we¡¯ll go check that out soon, then.¡± The spellcaster grinned. Gustus only stared, confused.

    ¡°What does Deimos plan to do here?¡± Gustus asked as he followed behind.

    ¡°He wants to meet that draugr of yours,¡± Eli answered. ¡°To fight him.¡±

    ¡°To kill him?¡± Gustus asked.

    ¡°Those two aren¡¯t necessarily the same but¡­ yes.¡± Eli nodded. ¡°To kill him. Deimos wants nothing more than an interesting fight with that man. One that could give him a run for his gold.¡±

    ¡°Why would he want to investigate the city, then?¡±

    Eli stopped at the question. ¡°If I¡¯m being honest, I don¡¯t think his interest here lies with the Draugr. It feels more like he¡¯s after something more.¡±

    ¡°More?¡± Gustus questioned. As he tried to come up with something, Eli tapped his walking stick.

    ¡°Keep focused. I don¡¯t want you to get your purse snatched in this part of town. Especially this part of town.¡±

    The marauder quickly obeyed, his hands moving to check up on his belongings.

    ¡°So, what do you think Deimos is after?¡± His question caused the spellcaster to chuckle.

    ¡°Many things. He wants to take over Valenfrost, get rid of the damned clans, and make sure that no Lumen control befalls the islands.¡±

    ¡°Well, to do that, he¡¯ll need a¡­¡± Gustus blinked. Realization slowly dawned on him. Eli grinned as the thought crossed his mind. It was as if he was reading his mind. ¡°He won¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°He can and he will,¡± the young man answered simply. ¡°Now come on. Catch up before you fall behind. We have a city to scout.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s around here?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Aye,¡± Horuk answered. ¡°I could never forget that place. Gave me the creeps.¡± The orc strained his neck to look ahead of the longship. Draugr¡¯s Haunt was in motion, making it harder for him to get a good look of the front. James had Horuk join in on their journey to Iendis¡¯ island, mainly because the orc knew exactly where it laid.

    ¡°Lemme see that map!¡± Horuk called out to Dimitri.

    ¡°Be my guest.¡± The shipmaster handed over the parchment of Valenfrost to the orc, who grabbed onto it gingerly. The orc handled the map like it was a fragile thing, his thumb and index holding the edges delicately.

    ¡®Probably doesn¡¯t want to rip it accidentally.¡¯ James realized. ¡®How thoughtful.¡¯

    ¡°When did you come across this place?¡± James asked Horuk.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Back during the New Year transition,¡± the orc answered. ¡°We were looking for a spot to set up our camp when we met those strangers.¡± Horuk shook his head. ¡°Strange people. Only one of them spoke. The rest, well, they were dead silent. Not a single word the entire time.¡± The orc raised the map. He stared at it for a moment before he looked down at the compass Dimitri held.

    ¡°We¡¯re on the right course. In fact, we should see it right about now,¡± Horuk stated.

    ¡°Really?¡± James asked sarcastically. The reason for that remark, laid all around them. There was mist everywhere, obscuring the sea and the horizon. The fog was enough that James could barely see the other side of the longship, let alone any islands in the distance.

    ¡°Right¡­¡± Horuk muttered. ¡°Still, we should come across it. We just need to get through this damned fog.¡± The orc waved his arms around, almost as if he was trying to dispel the mist.

    ¡°I got this,¡± Dahlia called out. The shaman pulled her sleeves back, revealing her tattoos to the world. James stepped back, watching as the young woman raised her hands.

    ¡°Wind Wall.¡±

    The shaman¡¯s fingers formed correctly, summoning the ethereal rune that represented the spell. James watched with a smile as a gust of swirling wind shot out into the air, its force enough to swirl the surrounding mist. In just a second, the Wind Wall spell dissipated, sending gusts of wind and fog back in response.

    The fog in front of the longship was cleared, even for a little. Still, that small window of time was enough for the crew to see what was ahead.

    ¡°There it is¡­¡± James murmured under his breath. As Horuk correctly predicted, there was an island ahead. It was small, but an improvement to the isle Horuk¡¯s orcs were on.

    There were signs of life in the form of trees and bushes, the sign of civilization coming from the visible buildings around its beach.

    ¡°Are they hostile?¡± James asked.

    Horuk shook his head. ¡°No. Far from it. They offered me to stay with them the last time I was here but I refused,¡± the orc admitted. ¡°Too creepy for me¡­¡± That was a surprise. That these people were enough to ward off orcs was saying something.

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s hope they have what I¡¯m looking for.¡± James turned to the shipmaster. ¡°Anchor around the shallows. This is the place.¡±

    <hr>

    Dahlia stuck behind James as they waded through the freezing waters. Despite it being Sommar, the water was shockingly cold. That was one of the many things the shaman felt was wrong with this place. The aura was something she couldn¡¯t explain. It was as if she was in constant proximity to a cemetery, the spirits of beyond calling out to her. The air was thick with fog, which made breathing feel close to drowning.

    Malik was right behind, followed by Elaine. They both wanted to see this for themselves, both for different reasons. The bard looked uncomfortable, her eyes darting around as she kept close. The necromancer had a grin on his face, like a child at the market. Opposite reactions, yet similar goals. They wanted to witness James as he approached an island inhabited by the worshipers of Iendis.

    Dahlia turned to face the island, her legs pushing through the cold sea. By the time they¡¯ve reached the shore, James was already moving to the buildings. She wanted to call out to him, to ask him if it was a good idea to be here. Yet she held it in. She knew better than to stop James. He was already set on his goal, on his needs. Dahlia knew that the blond man wanted nothing more than to find answers.

    ¡°Anyone here?¡± James called out. No response. He went to a building, knocking at the door. No response. James turned to Dahlia, who shrugged.

    ¡°Try the other buildings¡­ We¡¯re bound to find someone.¡± With that, the small group went around the shore, trying to find people. Yet, there was not a single response. Only the sound of wind and waves. At the final house, James was only halfway through knocking before a voice called out.

    ¡°Who are you people?¡±

    The source of the voice came from the nearby treeline. Dahlia and James moved from the building, their eyes focusing on the man who spoke out. He was an elderly looking person, his clothes modest. He did not look like what Horuk described. James was the first to talk.

    ¡°We¡¯re just looking for some people. I think we might have come to the wrong island,¡± He nervously admitted.

    The old man raised an eyebrow. ¡°Wrong island¡­ We¡¯re pretty far off from any known settlement. Are you looking for Yorktown? Farhorn?¡±

    ¡°No. Actually, we¡¯re from Yorktown.¡±

    That seemed to confuse the man even more. ¡°Then why are you here? There¡¯s nothing here for folks, nothing but these remnants.¡±

    ¡°Remnants?¡± Dahlia asked.

    The man sighed. ¡°While it might not look like it, this village is abandoned.¡± He gestured towards the rows of buildings that lined up around the shore and treeline. ¡°All people are gone from here.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t live here?¡± James questioned.

    ¡°Me? No. Gods no.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I live on an isle north of here. Farhorn. Fishing village.¡± The old man looked off into the forest behind him. ¡°I¡¯m only here to leave off food and amenities for the people here.¡±

    ¡°People?¡± Dahlia raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯d advise you not to interact with them. They¡¯re strange and really keep to themselves.¡± His response only confused Dahlia.

    ¡°Then why are you leaving food and supplies?¡± She prodded.

    ¡°It¡¯s my job,¡± the old man revealed. ¡°Has been for a long time now.¡± He rubbed the back of his neck, almost embarrassed at the words that he said.

    ¡°Can you explain why?¡± the shaman asked.

    The old man seemed to hesitate, but complied. ¡°I leave them supplies and they return the favor by keeping bandits away from Farhorn. The trade has been going for about¡­ Thirty years now.¡±

    ¡°Thirty years,¡± Dahlia muttered to herself. ¡°Have they ever spoken to you?¡±

    ¡°No. Like I said, they like to keep to themselves.¡±

    ¡°Can you show us where they are?¡± James asked.

    ¡°What? Didn¡¯t you hear what I said?¡±

    ¡°I did, but¡­¡± The clan leader shook his head. ¡°I need to see them. To speak with them.¡± His request made the older man visibly uncomfortable, his hands moving to rub at his faded stubble.

    ¡°Fine.¡± He finally gave in. ¡°I can show you, but I¡¯m leaving before they spot me. I¡¯m not risking anything.¡± The old man gestured for the group to follow him into the forest, which they did. They all headed into the forest, pushing past bushes and branches. As they walked, Dahlia gently grabbed James¡¯ hand. The blond man glanced at her, almost surprised.

    The shaman only gave him a smile, as if to reassure him. In reality, she was feeling dread. These last months, the two barely had any time to spend together. Despite their goal of extending the bond between the spirit and James, Dahlia had a sinking feeling that it was all for naught. She wondered countless times if they should cut their losses and spend the final moments in bliss, like that night on Bloom. Dahlia would give anything to spend another night like that with James.

    Yet there was barely time. There was only working and searching, studying and building. Dahlia had read through more books these past months than she had in her adolescent years. James had overworked himself to where he was developing dark bags underneath his eyes. Both of them were at their limit and this Iendis lead was their last shot. Dahlia wondered if it will lead them anywhere or do nothing but make James desperate.

    Dahlia squeezed James¡¯ hand, her mouth opening to say something. She wanted to tell him this, to tell him what she felt.

    ¡®Can I do that? Can I just rip his hope out?¡¯

    Both of them wanted James to live. They wanted to fight this. Yet the shaman could only feel hopeless at the idea of it all. Before she could get the words out, her thoughts were interrupted.

    ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± The old man¡¯s voice put everything in her head to a stop. James broke his gaze from the shaman, his hand slipping away from hers.

    ¡°Where?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Just a little farther ahead. Huge clearing, no grass, all gravel. They have a few tents there. That is where they live.¡± The elder sighed. ¡°I hope you find what you¡¯re looking for, but be warned. They are¡­ strange people.¡±

    ¡°No worries.¡± James nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°I hope so. Good luck to you all.¡± With that, the old man walked off, leaving the group of four alone.

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s move.¡±

    James took the lead and walked in the direction the old man pointed out. Dahlia followed behind with Malik and Elaine, both of whom were visually curious to see what lay ahead. After stepping through some more brush and shrubbery, the group finally made it.

    It was like what the man had told them. A large open clearing, with gravel instead of grass. Black tents were set up around the clearing, their flaps billowing in the wind. They had no banner, no symbol, but Dahlia could take a guess who they belonged to. James took a few cautious steps towards the center of the clearing. Once he reached the center, a bell rang out. Dahlia jumped at the sound of it and James visibly tensed up at it.

    The bell rang for a second before it was silenced. For the brief silence there was, Dahlia felt eyes on her. There were no visible indicators, yet she felt as if she was being watched. Before she could call out, another sound filled the air. It was the sound of footsteps on gravel. The sound was muffled at first, but it grew by the second. Dahlia looked around the clearing, trying to see where they were coming from.

    Finally, they appeared. Men and women in hooded robes, their faces obscured by black wrappings. Some walked out from the treeline, others from the tents. They all looked to be in sync, their steps all sounding out at the same time. They stopped soon, their gazes stuck in the group. Dahlia felt for her dagger, ready to fight off in case of an attack. None of the hooded figures moved, however.

    ¡°James Holter,¡± one of them suddenly called out. Dahlia felt chills run down her body.

    ¡®They know his name¡­¡¯

    It was official. She was freaked out.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been waiting for your arrival for quite a while,¡± they added.

    ¡°How long of a while?¡± James called back to the speaker.

    ¡°Six months,¡± the hooded man answered. Dahlia blinked in surprise. That was roughly around the time James was summoned. Did they know?

    ¡°Iendis told you?¡±

    ¡°Of course she did. The goddess has spoken to us about you, about your importance. She has been eager to finally meet you!¡±

    The hooded man pulled back his hood, revealing his wrapped head. ¡°I am the speaker, chosen by the goddess herself.¡±

    ¡°Speaker?¡± James questioned.

    ¡°I am a mere messenger, here to communicate with those who come here,¡± the speaker explained. ¡°These men and women, they are oracles and apostles of Iendis. They receive her word and teachings and keep it secret among themselves.¡± He gestured to them. ¡°To where they have cut their lucid tongues to keep themselves from revealing too much.¡±

    ¡°Freyja¡¯s mercy,¡± Dahlia cursed.

    ¡°So you don¡¯t know why I¡¯m here?¡± The clan leader asked.

    ¡°Only that you would come. That is all I know.¡±

    James turned to look at all the robed men and women. ¡°They know who I am?¡±

    ¡°Anything Iendis knows, they know.¡±

    ¡°So what does Iendis want? How do we speak to her?¡±

    The speaker raised his hands to slow James down. ¡°Not just anyone can simply speak to her. The apostles could only do that. However, a guest such as yourself, you are an exception.¡± The speaker gestured to the clan leader¡¯s allies. ¡°They cannot come, however. Only you can visit her.¡±

    ¡°Visit?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Visit,¡± the speaker confirmed. ¡°There is a ritual, one that we must perform to send you to her.¡± He sounded off.

    Dahlia knew nothing of deities and their visits, but this felt strange. ¡°James. I don¡¯t think you should go through with this.¡±

    The blond man turned to her, his expression showing hesitance. Before he could say anything, the hooded man spoke up.

    ¡°Holter, this is an offer Iendis only gives to special individuals. It would be an offense to reject.¡± That seemed to do it. James broke his gaze from Dahlia, his body facing the hooded man once more. The shaman could only watch.

    ¡°Fine. How do we do this ritual?¡±

    <hr>

    James shivered as he felt cold paint run down his back and chest. The fingers of the robed figures ran down his pale skin, leaving streaks of black paint behind. They painted over his runic tattoos, the ones Nathan imprinted on him nearly a year back.

    ¡°James, are you sure you want this?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± the blond man responded. ¡°I won¡¯t get another chance like this. I might as well take it.¡± He shivered again, this time at the breeze that came through. At the moment, they were all at the shore, specifically the one east of the island.

    They had told James that the sea was needed for the ritual, that it would summon the boatman Thien to come and pick him up.

    ¡°We¡¯re done,¡± the speaker said. The robed figures parted away from James to allow the speaker to pass. ¡°Now, here¡¯s the hard part.¡± He gestured to the sea, where the mist covered the horizon and everything beyond. James noticed that there were no waves, if at all. It was dead calm, like a lake in the fall.

    ¡°You must go into the black waters and float off into the mist. Only then will Thien come for you.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m more than sure,¡± the speaker confirmed. ¡°Do you have coins? A valdora or a king piece by chance?¡± James reached for his coin purse, his hands opening it. It had only one valdora left.

    ¡°This is all I have.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± The speaker smiled. ¡°Put it in your mouth, above your tongue. Make sure you have nothing else but that coin on you. No gear, no weapons, nothing but the pants and boots you wear.¡±

    James nodded and placed the coin into his mouth. He could taste the blue metal as it pressed against the roof of his mouth.

    ¡°Now step into the waters and lie. Close your eyes and relax,¡± the speaker advised. James nodded and made his way to the sea. ¡°Don¡¯t forget. No matter what you hear, do not open your eyes. Until you hear Thien¡¯s voice, do not respond nor open your eyes. Otherwise, you will be lost in the waters.¡±

    ¡®Got it.¡¯

    James stepped into the sea. The water seeped into his boots, cold enough to numb his toes. He pressed on, feeling the water rise to his knees and finally, his waist. He stopped there and looked back at the shore. While distant and obscured by fog, he could still see them, even if barely. They all watched in anticipation, the robed figures on their knees as they whispered nonsense.

    James took a deep breath and lowered himself into the waters, his body tensing up at the freezing cold. He did as he was instructed, floating on his back as he closed his eyes. He could feel as his body was slowly drifting away, his ears filling with saltwater. James kept his eyes closed, his body slowly relaxing as he drifted.

    For a while, nothing happened.

    ¡®This is pretty boring, actually,¡¯ James muttered internally. He awaited for a response from the spirit. None came. ¡®Faust?¡¯ The spirit didn¡¯t answer. Instead, another voice spoke up.

    ¡°James? James, get out now!¡± It was Harald, his voice distant and warped. The blond man frowned as the voice quickly passed by, its tone and pitch unrecognizable.

    Silence then came back, the veteran¡¯s voice gone. James focused on mediating, trying to get himself to clear his head. He needed to be ready.

    ¡°Get out! Wake up!¡± Seamus¡¯ voice came through this time. James didn¡¯t budge. He knew it was coming. The voice shouted some more before it disappeared.

    ¡°Oh gods! Please!¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice shouted out, her voice distressed. James almost moved, but he knew better. He restrained, forcing himself to endure as Dahlia¡¯s voice faded away.

    ¡®James!¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice came out to him, nearly making the blond man react.

    ¡®Faust?¡¯

    ¡®No time! React now! We¡¯re getting attacked!¡¯

    James had to force himself not to open his eyes. He knew Faust wouldn¡¯t straight up shout warnings. The spirit would react if needed. They both knew that. Still, the response was so ingrained in him it felt wrong to ignore the spirit¡¯s warnings. Thankfully, he held out before the voice went away.

    More time went by, along with the silence. Soon enough, another voice broke the silence and James was prepared.

    ¡°Oi,¡± the voice called out. ¡°Get up.¡± It was a simple request, one that baffled James. Wasn¡¯t it going to try harder? The others before were screaming and shouting, yet this one just simply told him to do it.

    ¡°I¡¯m on a schedule here. When are you getting up? Are you asleep?¡± The voice didn¡¯t even sound like anyone James knew. No, this voice sounded unfamiliar, ethereal in a way even.

    As he debated on who was speaking, James felt a flick on his forehead. ¡°Ow!¡± He exclaimed, nearly spitting the valdora from his mouth. He sat up in the waters, which only reached to his chest, sitting down. James blinked and looked around his surroundings. Without realizing it, the surrounding waters had turned from freezing to lukewarm. It was pitch black as well, resembling ink. The clan leader looked up at the man who flicked him, his eyes widening at the sight.

    The figure was covered in a ragged cloak, his long spindly hands clutching an oar. He sat upon a rowboat, which swayed gently. His face was¡­ something else. He had a beard, one that looked far from real. It looked artificial, fake. His skin was a pale gray, one that glistened like wax. James squinted and realized that it was melting. The eyes on this ¡®man¡¯ were nothing more than pits that showed no sign of life. The thing that freaked James out the most was the man¡¯s smile. His teeth were slanted like rat¡¯s teeth, their yellow surface pointed inwards. They looked sharp and numerous, which was more than enough for alarm.

    ¡°I knew you weren¡¯t asleep,¡± the boatman chuckled. James could only stare at the thing¡¯s unmoving smile, which stayed static when it talked.

    ¡°My name is Thien, the boatman of Iendis and son of Myr, God of Chaos.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 34: Draugrs Fate

    James groaned as he woke up from his slumber. He rubbed at his temple, which stung a little. His memories slowly came back to him in a blur, the last thing that came to him being the events on the beach and the weird fever dream he had about that thing.

    ¡°Am I back on the island?¡± he wondered aloud, the taste of metal still on his tongue.

    ¡°Sadly, you are not,¡± a voice muttered from behind. James jumped at the sound, his head swiveling to look for the source. Sure enough, there was a freaky, lanky creature right there, its face enough to make any man shiver.

    ¡°Calm down. I¡¯m just a humble boatman, here to take you on your trip.¡±

    Thien¡¯s voice was softer than last time, his charismatic charm easy on the ears.

    ¡°I remember,¡± James recalled. He avoided making eye contact.

    ¡°Good. Then I don¡¯t have to put you under again. By the way, thanks for the tip.¡± Thien flashed the valdora coin with his fingers. ¡°Usually, I charge 50 silver pieces, but this was a neat surprise. I guess Earthlings know a thing or two about gratitude.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t a tip.¡± James raised an eyebrow. ¡°It was all I had.¡±

    Thien blinked and looked at the valdora. ¡°So it is,¡± he muttered. ¡°I¡¯m not giving it back.¡±

    ¡°You know, for a deity, I expected something different¡­¡±

    ¡°Not all gods are the same, similar as with humans,¡± Thien explained. ¡°Just like you fleshy mortals, we have our quirks and differences. If you think I¡¯m eccentric, meet my father. He practically invented it.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± James murmured. ¡°Where am I?¡± He asked soon after. Looking around, it was clear that this was no longer the sea that he had been in. The water around James and the boatman was a pitch ink color, the only other thing around being the dark starry sky and infinite void. It reminded James of the mindscape in his head.

    ¡°A void between time and space,¡± Thien revealed. ¡°This is where our realms connect with others. From here, I can go where I please. Other gods, not so much.¡±

    ¡°They need your boat,¡± James realized. He remembered the stories Dahlia told him, the ones about how other gods needed the boatman for tasks that involved mortals.

    ¡°You¡¯re half right. They need both my boat and me,¡± Thien corrected. ¡°My boat is merely a vessel. The real power is me. I can summon the power from the stars and the void. I can guide myself and others into other realms like no one else.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why Dremor uses you as his boatman?¡±

    ¡°Bingo. I get paid for it too. Why do you think dead people are buried with gold coins on their eyes and tongues?¡± Thien rubbed his fingers.

    James raised an eyebrow. ¡°Why do you need money?¡± he asked.

    Thien laughed at that. ¡°Why did dragons hoard gold? The answer is simple. They¡¯re shiny.¡± That only confused James even more.

    ¡°Was that a joke?¡± He wondered aloud.

    ¡°Depends. Are you being serious?¡± Thien¡¯s voice dropped from playful to dead serious in just a second, the drastic change catching James off-guard.

    Before James could answer the question, Thien¡¯s grinning face turned away. His head did a 180 turn, freaking the blond man out.

    ¡°We¡¯re approaching my sister,¡± Thien called back. ¡°Word of advice. Try to hold on¡­¡±

    ¡°Hold on? What the fu¨C?!¡± James felt as the boat shifted, its speed changing from a leisurely drift to a sudden lightning pace.

    He fell back onto the rowboat, his vision blurring. The force of the sudden change of speed weighed on James heavily. He could even feel his organs press against his spine, his lungs unable to take a breath or even exhale. After a few seconds of this, the boat stopped suddenly. The act was enough to make James dizzy, his head spinning fast. He stumbled a bit, losing his balance as he tried to stand. He held back the urge to retch.

    ¡°There there,¡± Thien comforted the blond man. ¡°First time is always the roughest. That and the second time¡­ and the third time¡­ and the fourth¡ª¡±

    ¡°I get it!¡± James spat.

    ¡°Anyway. We¡¯ve arrived,¡± Thien murmured.

    ¡°Yeah, I guessed that already,¡± James muttered as he raised his head. His disgust and sickness almost subsided immediately from what he saw. He had to rub his eyes to be sure if he was looking at it right. Standing in front of him was a tree. Not a normal tree, no. This one was colossal.

    James recalled the redwood trees on Earth. He remembered their size and how they towered over people. The tree he was looking at was five times its height and twice its width. He had to crane his neck to even see the canopy. The bark and wood didn¡¯t even look real. It shone a bright blue, like some natural glow stick. The leaves above ranged from color to color. Some were black, others red, and nearly all pink.

    ¡°What is that?¡± he asked.

    ¡°The Tree of Fate,¡± Thien explained. ¡°Ask Iendis about it. She knows more about it.¡± The boatman¡¯s words made James blink in surprise. He looked back at its base, his gaze settling on the figure that stood there.

    Despite seeing her before, it was still a surprise to see the goddess in person. Iendis was in the same outfit as before, her slim and bare body wrapped in bandages and golden chains. However, her chains were wrapped around the tree this time, limiting her movement to a certain distance. Her blindfold was still there, and so were her soft lips.

    James visibly blushed at the memory of that vision, back when she kissed him to break him out.

    ¡°James Holter,¡± she muttered out suddenly.

    James stepped off the boat. ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± he called out.

    Iendis grinned at the sound of his voice. She strained against the chains, her body leaning forward. ¡°Oh, how I¡¯ve longed to meet you. I¡¯ve been here, watching, mesmerizing, everything about you.¡±

    ¡°What do you want from me?¡± James asked as he waded through the water, before finally stepping onto the shore that held the tree.

    Iendis giggled. ¡°I¡¯ve wanted to see you, of course. To guide you.¡±

    ¡°To guide me,¡± James repeated with some confusion.

    ¡°James, you are special. More than that, you are vital!¡± Iendis raised her chained arms to the tree behind her. ¡°The tree shudders from your presence!¡± ¡°She repeated her line from the vision.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± James asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you,¡± Iendis muttered. ¡°You only need to pay a simple price, one that the Tree of Fate needs.¡± With that, the tree behind her seemed to glow a little brighter, almost resembling neon. ¡°Come forth, Holter,¡± Iendis whispered.

    ¡°What are you going to show me?¡± James asked. He took a few cautious steps towards the strange woman, whose smile brought unease to his chest.

    ¡°Only what you need to see,¡± Iendis answered softly. Only once James got close that she grabbed his wrist. ¡°Are you willing to pay the price?¡±

    James stared at her, unsure of what to answer with.

    ¡®I came here to find answers. Of course I¡¯m ready, right?¡¯

    Faust wasn¡¯t around to answer his question, making the choice harder for him to make. The young clan leader looked upon the tree, its glow and heavenly presence almost beckoning to him.

    ¡®I went through all the trouble to get here. I might as well.¡¯

    His inner voice called out to him. That was true. Ever since his initial vision with Iendis, he had done nothing but focus on what she had promised him. If his answers lied beyond this price, he was willing to pay what he could. With that in mind, James took a deep breath. He looked back at Iendis and steeled himself.

    ¡°I¡¯m willing,¡± James answered.

    Iendis smiled at him, her grin growing slowly as she squeezed his wrist. ¡°Then, let us begin.¡± In only a moment, everything around James shifted. A cold sensation ran across his body, making him involuntarily shiver. After a second, he was no longer at the tree with Iendis. He was floating in an abyss, no signs of life or light anywhere. His body was weightless, with no sense of direction as it simply existed within the void. Soon enough, Iendis¡¯ voice called out to him.

    ¡°Now, let us see your black fates.¡±

    She sounded ethereal, the sound of her voice coming from every direction. Before James could ask what she meant, his surroundings shifted once more. In only a second, the young clan leader¡¯s weight returned to him, and he fell to the ground.

    James blinked at the suddenness of it all. He blinked and looked around, his eyes adjusting to his surroundings. He was back at Yorktown. More specifically, he was in the courtyard outside the tavern. The sun was setting in the distance, tainting the sky in a mix of dark purple with strands of orange. James stood up, confused for a moment. That is until snow fell all around him.

    James realized he wasn¡¯t alone. James could see how nearly all the townsfolk surrounded him, their faces stricken with shock as they stared at something behind him. He turned around, only to see something that shook the otherworldly man to his core.

    It was himself, dying on the cold ground. No, not dying. This version of James was already dead. His gaze was glassy and gray, no signs of life within them anymore. Next to his body were Dahlia and Seamus.

    ¡°Dammit¡­ Dammit! You can¡¯t do this to me! Not you!¡± The shaman was visibly distraught, her hands desperately shaking the dead man, almost as if she was trying to wake him. James could only stare at the scene, his eyes refusing to blink or look away. He felt sick.

    ¡°What is this?¡± James looked up at the sky, almost expecting a response from the gods themselves.

    ¡°Fates that never were,¡± Iendis answered. There was a snap, and James¡¯ surroundings changed again. He couldn¡¯t help but fall back to the ground, watching as the world shifted around him. The next thing he knew, he was in an alleyway back in Vindis. James felt even more dread this time, as he recognized this scene.

    This was back when he had fought those thieves on his first visit to Vindis. James remembered that fight and how he had come close to death towards the end. Had it not been for a rogue wave hitting the platform, he would have been killed by one of the thieves.

    As if on cue with his thoughts, a body dropped before him. James stared at the corpse, recognizing the blue tunic. Just as he feared, it was himself. This version of him had his throat slit open, his blue eyes glassy like last time. The thief responsible stood above James, his dagger dripping with crimson. James could feel genuine fear at the scene, his hand instinctively grabbing at his throat, almost like he was protecting it.

    ¡°No!¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice rang out. The shaman rushed in, her dagger flying to the man responsible for James¡¯ death. They clashed and, in the end, Dahlia came out on top. The shaman stabbed at the thief, her dagger making sickening noises as they plunged into the man¡¯s flesh. James could see how tears flowed down her cheeks as she brutalized the man who killed him.

    ¡°Get me out of this,¡± James managed. ¡°I don¡¯t want to see this.¡±

    snap!

    His pleas would go unheard, as another snap sounded out. The world changed again, and James was subjected to more fates that never were.

    He was back at the fight with Gryff, watching as the Lumen Knight cast his spell. James¡¯ body landed on the ship deck, an Ice Lance running through his eye and out the back of his skull. Dahlia soon followed, her body joining the otherworldly man.

    snap!

    Another snap. This time Blood-Irk was the victor, his ax beheading James in front of his friends.

    snap!

    While standing over him, the orcs from Aldren burned James¡¯ body to an unrecognizable char.

    snap!

    A wolf rips his throat out in a snowy clearing, his sword out of reach.

    snap!

    Deimos executes James after the Siege of Yorktown, his boot crushing in his skull.

    snap!

    The abomination tears James apart during their first encounter, ripping his guts out with ease.

    Another snap. Another death.

    Rinse. Repeat.

    James felt like throwing up, his stomach churning as he experienced his deaths. They were all caused by mistakes he could have easily made during his time in Valenfrost. It ranged from drowning in the black sea to fatal slip-ups in fights. James couldn¡¯t feel the pain, but it didn¡¯t make it any less horrifying to witness.

    It all ended with one last vision, one that shook him to his very core.

    It was when he encountered the abomination during the last Frost. The one that was made of countless goblins. James could only watch as his body was subjected to a fate he always feared. One that he never wanted to know. He couldn¡¯t look away, couldn¡¯t blink, couldn¡¯t stop watching as his corpse crystalized and shriveled. His once dead eyes soon glowed a soft blue, their gaze focusing on the surrounding bodies.

    James¡¯ corpse slowly stood up, his crystalized body parts glinting with a shine that befitted a diamond. The abominable creature looked at the real James, his blue lips forming into a smile.

    One final snap sounded out after that, and James was back at the tree of fate. He was on his ass, his eyes on the last place he saw that horrific vision. Before he knew it, he was crawling to the nearby black waters, his body shuddering as he vomited.

    ¡°So? How was it?¡± Iendis suddenly called out.

    ¡°What¡­ What is wrong with you?!¡± James shouted. He forced himself to stand, despite his weak knees and shaking hands. Without waiting for an answer, he threw a punch at the deity. Just as he did so, however, a black shadow rose in front of Iendis, swallowing his strike. James stumbled back, his gaze moving to look up at Thien.

    ¡°Best you don¡¯t try that,¡± Thien warned. The boatman¡¯s smile was still there, yet his beady eyes radiated danger.

    ¡°Step away, Thien,¡± Iendis ordered. The boatman acknowledged her order, his shadowy figure moving away from the two. Once he was out of sight, the chained woman looked back at James. ¡°You must be made of sterner stuff to throw a punch at a demi-goddess such as myself,¡± she complimented.

    ¡°What?¡± James asked in disbelief.

    ¡°It¡¯s a compliment. Most people usually go insane when subjected to black fates like that. That you kept your sanity tells me everything I need to know about you,¡± Iendis explained.

    James could only stare, his hand moving to grab at his chest. It was hurting like hell, like something was squeezing his heart. ¡°Why¡­ Why did you show me¡­?¡±

    ¡°The fates that never were? Truth be told, it wasn¡¯t for me. That was your payment to the Tree of Fate,¡± Iendis revealed. ¡°The tree does not allow those to see their fates without a price to pay. The Tree of Fate subjects every mortal who comes here to fates that never were. Most go insane. Very few push through.¡± She clasped her hands in joy. ¡°I¡¯m so happy you saw it through. It gives me a bit of an outlook on you personally as well.¡±

    ¡°Outlook¡­?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Fate favors you, James,¡± Iendis answered. ¡°Haven¡¯t you realized? You could¡¯ve easily died in these past months, yet somehow luck has been on your side.¡±

    James couldn¡¯t believe what she was saying.

    ¡®No, she¡¯s right.¡¯

    He recalled all of his horrific deaths. Those were deaths that could¡¯ve been. Deaths that would¡¯ve easily come had it not been for fate intervening. Yet despite it all, he had to ask,

    ¡°Why?¡±

    Iendis shrugged. ¡°Perhaps it is your otherworldly status. Maybe your existence is vital to Azura. Perhaps it is your destiny. Only the tree knows.¡± The goddess laid back against the glowing trunk. ¡°But know this, James. Just because it favors you does not mean you¡¯re completely exempt from its consequences.¡±

    Iendis snapped her fingers. A scale materialized out of nowhere, each of its pans holding what looked like blossoms. ¡°The more you deny death, the more you avoid it, the heavier your side of the scale becomes.¡± One pan grew heavier, more blossoms landing on top. ¡°At some point, the scales will rebalance and they will take whatever is necessary to keep you in check.¡±

    James watched as the heavier pan reached to its bottom before half its blossoms burnt to a crisp, rebalancing the weights. He didn¡¯t need to ask about what fate would take from him if he failed to keep his ambitions in check. He recalled Dahlia¡¯s explanation of it all. It was eerily similar to what Iendis was explaining.

    ¡°Now, the reason I summoned you here.¡± Iendis waved away the scales, making them dissipate into nothingness. ¡°O, tree of light.¡±

    She formed her fingers, her muttering turning to whispers of strange words. James only watched as the tree groaned and creaked. Suddenly, the canopy shook. The blossom leaves that were attached to the branches above fell. They glided down the tree¡¯s length, showering James and Iendis. The goddess held out her hand, catching a handful of the blossoms.

    James focused on the blossoms she held. They were a mix of color, ranging from black to pink. When he got close enough, Iendis held them out to him.

    ¡°These are from your branch.¡±

    ¡°My branch?¡± James questioned.

    ¡°Your life. The branch that formed when you were summoned here. These blossoms sprung from it and so they show your fates,¡± Iendis revealed. ¡°The black ones are fates that will never be. The pink and red are the ones that could be.¡±

    ¡°My fates¡­¡± James shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t want to know them. I can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°But you must.¡± Iendis shoved her hand further. ¡°How can you become stronger if you do not accept the gifts of a goddess? You¡¯ve already paid the price to look at these,¡± she insisted. James looked down at the blossoms. Two were pitch black, and five were a mix of pink and red. ¡°You came here to live, did you not? Then learn¡­ Learn how you can ensure that future.¡± Her whispers crept their way into James¡¯ mind, coaxing him to do as she asked.

    Without realizing it, James grabbed a blossom. His fingers only brushed the black one before his world changed.

    <hr>

    James was no longer at the tree.

    Instead, he stood back in his apartment. He blinked in confusion. Was he back in that vision the witch had shown him? Was he going through the same dream? Before panic could set in, James watched as someone burst into his room.

    It was himself, dressed in Earth clothes and looking much healthier than before. His future self¡¯s beard was neatly clipped and his hair styled cleanly. He was thinner too, his arms lacking the muscle current James had. The lack of scars on his arms and face made James¡¯ body ache with remembrance, his mind going back to the many battles he fought through.

    He watched as his future self rummaged through his room.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Where is it?¡± Future James muttered as he opened drawers and closet doors.

    ¡°James? Are we going or not?¡± A female voice called out to him. Before Future James could respond, a young woman entered the room. She was unrecognizable, but her brown hair and bluish eyes were hypnotic in a way. She also had a noticeable bump on her belly. James noted the ring on her finger and on his future¡¯s self.

    ¡°I swore it was here somewhere,¡± Future him answered.

    ¡°Maybe you left it at your aunt¡¯s?¡± The woman asked.

    ¡°No, I kept it here. I just¡­¡± Future James frustratingly sighed. ¡°The urn is all I got left of him,¡± he revealed.

    ¡°Do you want me to look? Maybe if we both look¡ª¡±

    ¡°No no.¡± Future James stood up. ¡°You¡¯re already four months along. The last thing I need is for you to exert yourself more.¡± He sighed. ¡°How about this? We continue with our plans and move into your place. When Nick comes back from his trip, we¡¯ll look for it.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m positive.¡± Future James grinned. ¡°Besides, it¡¯s just an urn. I already spread the ashes a long time ago¡­ I think he would¡¯ve wanted me to move on.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear.¡± The woman smiled. ¡°How about we get back to the house, huh? We still need to get that bed set up.¡± Future James¡¯ comment was enough to make them both chuckle and laugh playfully. The real James only watched as the couple left the apartment before the vision faded.

    James was back at the tree, his eyes still at the spot where his future self left.

    ¡°In that future, you never left Earth,¡± Iendis explained. ¡°You never left your home, and you never got fired.¡±

    James looked down at the black blossom in his hand. He tossed it away. ¡°What¡¯s the other black one?¡± he asked.

    Iendis smiled. ¡°See for yourself.¡±

    James hesitated for a bit. He looked at the other black blossom, which looked wilted and dead. The blond man shook off his hesitance. This was a dead future, one that will never happen. What could go wrong? James reached over and grabbed the next blossom.

    This time, instead of a cozy apartment, he was met with a flaming inferno. He stepped back a little, unnerved at the sight of the flames despite feeling no heat. James looked around, trying to figure out where he was. It was only after a quick survey that he realized that this was Yorktown. The buildings were all leveled, their debris smoking and sparking with embers.

    The vision dissipated quickly after that. ¡°What was that?¡± he asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s a boring one,¡± Iendis said with a sigh. ¡°That is the future where Deimos decided not to show mercy. He burnt the town to cinders and took Seamus, leaving you to die in a burning town.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s grim,¡± James commented. His chest tightened at the memory of his death at Deimos¡¯ hands. It was one of the black fates he had experienced earlier.

    ¡°So are most black blossoms. The real fun lies with the pink and red ones.¡± Iendis raised her palm once more, gesturing to the remaining five.

    James swallowed at the implication. He looked down at the goddess¡¯ delicate hands, which held his future fates. A couple were growing red, while others stayed pink.

    ¡°What¡¯s with the color?¡± He asked.

    ¡°The pink shows a simple fate, one that can range from anything. The red ones, they show your death. Good or bad, you can decide.¡±

    James hesitated even more. He felt apprehension at the thought of reliving another death, let alone one that could happen in the future. Then again, this was the entire point of this trip. He was here to avoid death, not to accept it.

    ¡®This is for my friends, to protect them.¡¯

    The blond man reached for one of the red blossoms, his fingers grasping onto its soft texture. He had held it for only half a second before the world around him shifted again. James now stood in the middle of a courtyard, one that looked nothing like he saw before. The stone ground bore a huge seven pointed sun, its points reaching the walls that surrounded the yard. People were around, their faces full of anger and spite. Before he could question it, James heard doors open, the courtyard erupting in shouts and cheers.

    James turned to the courtyard doors, where men in armor shoved past people. They were Lumen Knights, he realized, judging from the wax seals on their chests. Guards surrounded the knights, shoving bystanders back as they moved. James squinted, trying to see what was happening. His confusion went away as soon as he saw what the knights were dragging. At first, he couldn¡¯t recognize the unkempt and bloodied man. However, when he saw the man¡¯s blackened and withered arm, it all made sense.

    This version of James had his hair bloodied and shaggy, its length covering the beaten man¡¯s eyes. Crimson stained his beard and bloody lashes were visible on his chest and back. His left hand was gone, a stump in its place. The present man watched as the prisoner was dragged across the courtyard, his body tensing up as he tried to pull away. Even at his weakest, his future self still had fight in him. James noted the burning scar on his future self¡¯s chest, its placement being right above where Deimos had stabbed him. The Lumen Knights restrained and punched at James, forcing him onto his knees in the middle of the courtyard.

    As the future man was restrained, one knight stepped up. She was an elf, her silver hair tied and bounded behind her head. The woman looked disappointed in a way, her expression a polar opposite from the other knights. James wasn¡¯t sure if it was hesitance or guilt. The elf took a deep sigh, her gaze narrowing as she spoke out into the courtyard.

    ¡°James Holter. You are here to answer for your crimes. For too long, you have fought back. For too long, you have evaded our law. Now, after losing the war you yourself have started, we have finally captured you.¡± The elf crouched down to eye level. ¡°Your punishment shall be execution. For the damage you caused and the pain you afflicted. I hope Delphine has mercy on your soul.¡± The elf stood once more, her hand gesturing at the knights. One knight raised his sword, its edge hanging above James¡¯ exposed neck.

    Future James screamed and shouted incoherently, spittle flying all around. Yet the knights didn¡¯t falter, their hands strong enough to keep him restrained. The sword came down soon after and James was subjected to the image of his head hitting the cold ground.

    When the vision faded, James felt like throwing up.

    ¡°That was a future where the Lumen Kingdom retaliated for what you did last Frost,¡± Iendis explained. ¡°They burnt Yorktown to cinders and killed most of your friends. In response, you fought back and waged a lone war against the Lumen Kingdom. You raided their coast, burnt villages, and pillaged. It worked and your clan grew to be a powerhouse of Valenfrost. Yet it wasn¡¯t enough. In the end, the Lumen Kingdom was bigger. You were defeated and everyone who followed you perished. What you saw was your execution. The end of the terrorizing Draugr.¡±

    ¡°What was with the wound on the chest?¡± James asked. He forced his hands to be still. He needed to keep his nerve. ¡°How did I manage to live that long?¡±

    ¡°That version of you healed the wound Faust covered up. When the Frost solstice came, you and Dahlia used the flame cleanse spell to help cauterize and seal the wound. It was brutal, inefficient, but it miraculously worked. However, Faust was gone permanently, and you were left without his strength,¡± Iendis revealed.

    ¡°I see,¡± James muttered.

    ¡®A war with the Lumen Kingdom? Would that even happen?¡¯

    Gryff and Hugo, the two Lumen Knights from last year. They died because of him. That itself was reason enough. Yet since that day, nothing came for him. Yorktown was safe and James had seen nothing from that kingdom. No messenger or soldiers. Now that he thought about it, the vision he had witnessed was not set in stone. It was a possibility, one that had a chance of happening.

    James knew what kind of man he wanted to be. Raiding and burning villages was something that he never saw himself doing. Taking someone¡¯s life was still trivial to him. Gryff was the only person he had ever truly killed. Even if it was in self defense, the event haunted him to this day. That his future version had resorted to such tactics gave an implication he didn¡¯t want to think about.

    ¡°What¡¯s the other red one?¡± He asked.

    ¡°This¡­¡± Iendis raised the red blossom. ¡°This is a future that could happen sooner than you think,¡± she whispered. James reached out, his brow furrowing. While his inner conscience was advising against finding out his fate, his morbid curiosity was getting the better of him. Just like before, his vision changed.

    This time, he stood in a destroyed hall. Flames and embers filled the corners, their soft glow being drowned out by another light. James looked up, noticing the destroyed ceiling. The sister moons Luna and Callisto were flooding the hall with their light. Instead of their blue glow, however, their light was a crimson red.

    ¡°Blood moons¡­¡± He realized. James looked around the hall, his eyes adjusting to the red light.

    What he saw made him sick. Bodies littered the floor, their blood staining the floor and walls. Marauder bodies were spread around, their wounds ranging from evisceration to simple decapitation. Some even had frost shards poking out from their torsos and heads. The unsettling part wasn¡¯t just them, but the fact they were accompanied by corpses that bore white ravens.

    While he was jaded to the sight of bloodshed, James was not used to recognizing the faces of the dead. Haggard¡¯s corpse was half burnt, his hand holding onto a shattered hammer. Helen was nearby, her guts spilt and her eyes staring into nothingness. Bjorn had spears running through his back and torso, his body slumped on its knees. Malik¡¯s head rested nearby, his single eye staring at James.

    As James walked around the hall, he saw more and more people he recognized. Felix, Kate, Harald, and even Miles the mercenary were among the deceased. Finally, he came across one person dreaded to see. Dahlia¡¯s body laid in a pool of dark blood, her throat cut open. Across from her, was a headless body, one that James soon recognized once he saw the bear insignia pinned on the cloak. He took a couple steps back, his knees wobbling as he steeled himself. This was just a vision. Nothing more.

    Footsteps rang out in the hall, catching James by surprise. A tall man was limping towards the end of the room, his hand dragging a long ax.

    Deimos was grinning, his single eye staring furiously at James. He was injured, but still standing. He had visible wounds and scorch marks on his armor. Someone had given him a fight.

    ¡°James!¡± He called out suddenly, his voice echoing around the blond man.

    James¡¯ eyes widened, his thoughts going wild. Was he able to see him? Wasn¡¯t this a vision? He soon got his answer in the form of another voice. His own.

    ¡°How¡­? How are you still¡­?¡± James turned around, his gaze meeting that of his future self. This version of him wore bloodied steel plate armor, which glowed with runic enchantments. His hair was longer, its length reaching the man¡¯s shoulders. James could spot the way his future self was trying to administer aid through potions, his hands shakily opening vials.

    There were multiple wounds and gashes on his injured self, his right hand mangled and his foot broken. Future James tried to down a health potion, but Deimos kicked it away. His future self raised his left hand in retaliation, his fingers focusing into a rune.

    ¡°Ice Lance!¡± Right when the spell formed however, Deimos simply slapped it away, sending the ice shard flying.

    ¡°No more of that, I¡¯m afraid. You¡¯ve lost¡­¡± The Red Death muttered as he stomped on James¡¯ chest. The blond man let out a breath, his mouth gasping for air as his chest was crushed in. Deimos laughed as he raised his ax with one hand. When it came down, James looked away. He didn¡¯t want to subject with another sight of his deceased self. It was already torture enough that he had to witness this cursed future.

    When the vision finally faded, James crushed the blossom. With ease, it crumpled and disintegrated before being blown away by an invisible breeze. He fell down onto the ground, his knees finally giving out. James sat there, his eyes closing for a bit. Yet the longer he kept them closed, the more he caught glimpses of the bloodied scene.

    ¡°Do I even have to guess what kind of fate that was?¡± James asked in a shaking voice. He grabbed at his hair, trying his hardest to shake the memory away.

    ¡°Remember, it is simply a possibility. Not a certainty,¡± Iendis softly assured him. The goddess sat next to him, her hand gently grabbing at his shoulder.

    ¡°So these¡­¡± James gestured to the three remaining blossoms that were in the goddess¡¯ free hand. They were all bright pink. ¡°These show me futures that don¡¯t involve me dying?¡± James didn¡¯t want to see death anymore. He hated the thought of seeing another corpse he recognized. He was sure to go insane if he saw more.

    ¡°Correct.¡± Iendis nodded. ¡°Personally, I like to see a couple of these as specifically ones where you won.¡± The goddess smiled.

    James focused on the brightest blossom of the group. It almost beckoned to him, as if it was asking to be picked.

    ¡®Maybe this one won¡¯t be so damn bleak,¡¯ He thought to himself. Before he knew it, James had already picked up the blossom.

    He was subjected to the visage of a throne room. The walls were adorned with banners that showcased a white skull. Men and women discussed and hung around the room, their expensive clothing signifying them as more than simple people. Advisors and guards kept them away from the throne itself, using themselves as a border to make sure none got too close.

    Sitting on the throne was someone near unrecognizable. The only thing that looked familiar was the trimmed blond hair and braided beard. James¡¯ future self was old, around the same age as Harald. He wore armor that looked impractical to wear. Rubies and gems adorned his outfit, their glistening surfaces enough to blind anyone. His left arm had a special gauntlet attached, the runes that glowed upon it looking close to divine. James stared at himself, unsure if he truly recognized any of it.

    Orcs and summoned skeletons guarded his sides, their weapons high class and far from cheap. Gold was embedded in almost everything around James, to where it ordained even the blond man¡¯s teeth. James couldn¡¯t help but feel disgusted at the sight, his disdain growing once he saw collared men and women walk into the room. They carried plates and followed commands from advisors, their golden collars glowing whenever they were told something.

    The vision faded slowly out of sight, the throne room around James disappearing. Once he was back at the tree, his hand shook the blossom away, almost as if it was a piece of trash.

    ¡°You seem upset,¡± Iendis whispered disappointedly. ¡°That¡¯s one of my favorites.¡±

    ¡°What kind of future is that?¡± James asked in a hostile tone.

    ¡°One where you won. In this future, you became a warlord, conquering Valenfrost and subsequently, Azurvale. You destroyed the Lumen Kingdom, placing your own kingdom among its ashes.¡±

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t me.¡± James shook his head as he stood up.

    ¡°It was,¡± Iendis pushed. ¡°That was you, through and through. This version of James killed Deimos and beheaded the Lumen King. He abused his power and exploited his enemies. He disregarded morals and pursued without hesitation.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not who I am,¡± James muttered. ¡°The banners, the castle, gold, hell the slaves¡­¡± He turned to the demi-goddess.

    ¡°Slaves are a part of this world. Areno uses them, Olafson uses them. Half of this world¡¯s kingdoms was built on slaves,¡± Iendis explained. She was standing now, slowly inching closer to him. ¡°That version of you was at least considerate when it came to them.¡± She smiled. ¡°You only took in prisoners and offenders as slaves. Those who defied you and those who sought to hurt everything you¡¯ve built. Better to be an obedient slave than a corpse, is it not?¡± Iendis laughed.

    James felt himself grow with anger, his hands balling into fists. ¡°It¡¯s not me. I don¡¯t want this future. Ever.¡±

    ¡°That is what you say now, but the blossom remains in color. Who knows, perhaps you will come to reject those morals you hold dear.¡± Iendis raised a blossom from her hand. ¡°This is an interesting one, if you like to see it.¡± Her voice was almost cooing in a way. James gritted his teeth but reached out, regardless. There had to be a good future. There had to be at least one.

    As the surroundings changed and shifted, James felt a sinking feeling come across him. Instead of the sun¡¯s light or the moon¡¯s glow, he was met with the bright haze of hospital lights. He blinked in confusion, his hand moving to cover his gaze.

    ¡°I¡¯m back on Earth?¡± He asked aloud. His question would soon be answered in the form of padded walls and a steel door. James stared at the door, which had its food slot moved to allow a tray of stale food in.

    The blond man turned around, his gaze meeting the other side of the room. Drawings and marker streaks covered the padded white wall, names and gibberish scrawled all over it. Dahlia, Valenrost, Azura, and more. Countless words and names were sloppily written. Near the corner of the room, where most of these drawings were concentrated, was a thin and malnourished James. He had no left arm, the only remainder being the nub of his shoulder. The blond man was muttering to himself as he drew runes into the walls, a near direct repeat of what was already on the walls.

    ¡°Gate summon! Fuck! Gate summon!¡± Older James shouted as he slammed his marker against the runes. Nothing happened, and that only seemed to infuriate him even more. Current James could only watch as his future self cried and shouted, his fist banging on the wall. That only worsened things, since the commotion was enough to summon in a few people to the room. A doctor and some nurses rushed in to detain James, who screamed and shouted at them.

    ¡°Carapace! Power Strike!¡± the older man shouted before the doctor injected a needle into him. The blond man perked up at the poke, his body growing weaker as he tried to fight the sedation.

    Once he fell asleep, the doctor spoke up. ¡°Patient is still having delusions. How¡¯d he get the marker?¡± A nurse shrugged. ¡°Make sure he¡¯s not allowed around the staff without my permission. Got it?¡±

    James watched as they dragged off his future self, the vision almost clearing immediately after. ¡°Why was I back on Earth?¡± James asked quietly after a moment of silence.

    ¡°In this future, you were sent back to your world,¡± Iendis responded.

    ¡°How? By who?¡± James asked.

    Iendis opened her mouth to say the answer, but her brow creased. ¡°That¡¯s strange. I do not know,¡± she muttered. ¡°Whoever it was, they must be someone powerful. Strong enough to restrict me from seeing their branch.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°Who knows? Perhaps it is a god, or a mortal protected by one. Either way, they had the power to send you back. Which is strange.¡±

    ¡°Strange how?¡± James prodded.

    ¡°As you know, Thien is one who can travel realms. Most gods need his help. No one else could do what he does. But some gods could still summon from other worlds. Take from other realms without the need of travel,¡± Iendis explained. ¡°Myr and Delphine are one of the few I know of who can do this. Perhaps this version of you somehow enacted their wrath, to where they break the holy law of interference to send you away from here, back to your world.¡±

    ¡°Pissing off Delphine could get me sent back?¡±

    ¡°No. Unless you yourself have invaded her holy temple in her domain, Delphine cannot touch you. She cannot interfere directly. That is what her clergy are for.¡± Iendis grinned. ¡°To be fair, it is something. The mere fact that you angered someone so powerful, to the point where they break holy law, is quite interesting.¡±

    While the demi-goddess was having a laugh about the entire thing, James was feeling the opposite. The idea of going back to Earth, in that condition no less, was a terrifying thought.

    ¡®Maybe I should watch myself when it comes to messing with Delphine,¡¯ he internally told himself.

    ¡°Will you take the last one?¡± Iendis asked, her fingers holding the final blossom up. James stared at the harmless looking thing. Such a small thing, able to tell the fates of men.

    ¡°Do I even want to know what it shows?¡± James asked with narrowed eyes.

    ¡°I myself won¡¯t know until you look into it.¡± Iendis leaned forward even more, her body straining against the golden chains that held her. ¡°You got this far. Why not finish?¡±

    James sighed. He cautiously reached for the pink blossom, his fingers gently grasping at it. In just a moment, he was transported.

    This time, he stood on a grassy plain, one that looked rather peaceful. James was underneath a tree that sheltered him from the bright sun. He looked around, his gaze searching for anyone or anything. In the distance, he could see a palisade. Smoke billowed from behind it, signifying civilization. Children laughed and played around the walls, their shouts and playful banter heard from the distance.

    James noted the banner that hung from the palisade. It was a shield, one that bore the symbol of a raven and wolf. Before he could question it, a man shouted for the kids to go back in the town. This was a man James had never seen before. He had a noticeable limp, his age showing through the countless wrinkles and white beard. The man wore a green cloak over his half steel plate armor, his sword swaying side to side as he walked to the tree James was at.

    ¡°Arthur! What took you so long?¡± a female voice called out. A woman stepped into view, her black cape swept back to reveal a partial gambeson and wrapped clothing. She looked like she was in her mid thirties, her auburn hair tied up to reveal the eyepatch she wore over her left eye.

    ¡°I¡¯m getting too old for this, Naomi.¡± The man named Arthur admitted. ¡°I¡¯m past my prime, far from it, in fact.¡±

    ¡°Well, maybe you can retire after our negotiations go through.¡± James heard his own voice speak up from behind. He turned around, his eyes locking onto the older version of himself. This version of James looked healthier than the rest that came before. There were some scars on him, mainly on the arm and face, but this version of James looked¡­ happier. He had a grin on his face, his hand holding a bitten apple that looked fresher than fresh. His armor was a mix between gambeson and tunic, his left hand still wrapped in bandages.

    ¡°Look at you, resting easy,¡± Arthur scoffed.

    ¡°It¡¯s not easy being Jarl,¡± Future James groaned as he stood.

    ¡°It is when you have clans to assist you in your every need,¡± Naomi pointed out.

    ¡°Not when Dahlia is constantly pulling me into every meeting,¡± Older James revealed. ¡°She wants me to keep relations constant and beneficial.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a good thing you married a natural diplomat,¡± Arthur sighed. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you how many Jarls I¡¯ve watched burn themselves to the ground just because they refused to talk things through.¡±

    The trio talked at length about some more things James didn¡¯t recognize. Still, that wasn¡¯t what got his attention. No, he was focusing on the two strangers. The strangers laughed and smiled with James like best friends, their grins far from malicious. They looked strong as well. They had gear that looked mundane at first, but upon closer inspection, there were magical runes etched into them. James could see how they carried themselves with confidence befitting of powerful people, their arms crossed and their body language relaxed.

    Still, there was something else that bothered him, something that bothered him throughout the vision, all the way to its end.

    ¡°What a treat! Finally, a vision that shows what you want,¡± Iendis giggled. ¡°It might be boring, but it is just what you want, right? A peaceful future, one where you unite the clans of Valenfrost.¡±

    ¡°Who are they?¡± James asked bluntly.

    Iendis frowned. ¡°The two strangers you were with? Why?¡±

    James took a shaking breath. He turned to Iendis. ¡°Those were Earthlings. Both of them,¡± he pointed out. He had no definitive proof that the two strangers were from his home world, but James couldn¡¯t shake off the way they spoke. Their accents stood out like sore thumbs, the mere pronunciations enough to send James back to his days on Earth. There was also the presence. Ever since he had come to Valenfrost, James had never felt the same. Everyone he had ever spoken to had felt off and foreign.

    The two strangers in that vision were different from everyone. They felt familiar, like someone he would genuinely meet back on Earth.

    ¡°You¡¯re sharp, aren¡¯t you?¡± Iendis smiled at the accusation. ¡°They are from Earth, same as you.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me that people from my world have been here before?¡± James asked in disbelief.

    ¡°Did you really think you were the only one?¡± The demi-goddess asked. ¡°People from your world have been coming to Azura for decades. You are the latest of them,¡± she revealed.

    James stared at the chained woman, his mind going back to when he was first summoned here. For months, he had figured his summoning for an accident. One born of pure coincidence.

    ¡°Who was it? Who¡¯s been summoning people?¡± He asked.

    Iendis grinned. She raised her arms, extending hands into the air. ¡°For decades, we¡¯ve been looking for someone to change this world for the better. To do what my father thought was right.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Almost every Earthling summoned here has died. Most don¡¯t survive a month, as their resolve is not enough for this world. The only promising one was Naomi¡­ and she has abandoned everything. No other Earthling before had come that close. Not until you. You¡­ You were the one. The man who changed everything¡­¡± James could only stare at Iendis, his heart sinking at the realization.

    ¡°When you came, everything changed. The day you were summoned, your mere existence set the Tree of Fate aflame.¡± Iendis laughed and gestured towards the trunk behind her. ¡°Nearly a third of the blossoms above turned pitch black, their branches wilting and taking new form. Millions of fates were doomed, and millions more opened up. You changed everything! You did the unpredictable.¡± Iendis breathed heavily as she spoke about it. She was even blushing, her flustered breathing increasing. ¡°Father was right about you¡­ You are truly something different. Something that not even fate saw coming. True chaos.¡±

    James stood there, stunned. Everything had come clear to him now. Iendis summoned him. She had brought him here as some sort of experiment. As a way to fuck with this world and to appease Myr. It had nothing to do with his parents, nothing to do with his blood. His dreams were probably another layer of her interference. Her brother was the boatman, after all. Changing dreams was possibly nothing new to him.

    He was a factor. An unpredictable factor that was enough to change the fates of millions.

    ¡°What am I? Who am I?¡± James muttered to himself. Was he really just a pawn in the game of the gods? He clenched his jaw hard. Enough to send a migraine through his head.

    ¡®No¡­ I¡¯m still me. I made my choices, not them.¡¯

    Myr was a God of Chaos, but he never pushed James to do the things he did. The god was a bystander, one that only watched the world unfold. Iendis and Thien might have summoned him here, but they didn¡¯t force his hand on all the things he had done. James did it all of his own volition. Hell, he even enjoyed some of it.

    Earth was long gone. James had seen the life he could have had had he not been summoned. It might¡¯ve been a good one, but it was one that was far out of reach. In another life, perhaps. Now, it was different. While he was dealt a shitty hand, James still had the chance to choose what fate he wanted, what future he could strive for. He looked down at the blossom in his hand, the tip of which started to turn black. He could fathom a guess at what it meant.

    ¡°How do I heal my bond with Faust?¡± James asked.

    ¡°The truth lies in the fates you saw,¡± Iendis pointed out. ¡°In nearly all of them, your spirit will be lost, no matter what. Healing the wound is the only option you realistically have. In all the futures you saw, you healed it after the spirit left. You only need to find the treatment.¡±

    ¡°No hints?¡± James asked.

    Iendis only gave him that sly smile. ¡°That is a task you must complete on your own. The answer will come to you before the solstice hits. Be vigilant.¡±

    ¡°I will,¡± James answered as he turned around. He took a step towards the boatman before Iendis called out to him.

    ¡°My Draugr, heed my warnings.¡±

    James turned around to meet the demi-goddess¡¯ blinded gaze. ¡°What is it?¡± He asked.

    Iendis¡¯ smile was gone, replaced by a grim expression. ¡°If you wish to pursue the Earthlings, be warned. While one has the chance to become an ally, the other cannot. Arthur Clarke is a Lumen Apostle. Peace may not be an option.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 35: Dusk

    ¡°Again!¡±

    Harald¡¯s shout was followed by another thwack of wooden swords. Kate was desperately trying to break the veteran''s guard, her strikes on the edge of breaking the training equipment.

    ¡°Again!¡± Harald shouted. Kate stumbled back, her breath coming out in puffs of steam. Her sword was shaking. Harald gritted his teeth. ¡°Did I tell you to stop, Rowan? Again!¡± Kate¡¯s expression turned from exhaustion back to hardened resolve. She charged once more, her weapon of choice raising to strike once more.

    Harald could see it all coming however. He knew exactly what tactic she was going for and how she was going to execute it. The veteran sidestepped and raised his wooden pole. The young woman¡¯s strike made contact and Harald countered. In a swift motion, Kate was on the ground, Harald¡¯s weapon pointed at her.

    ¡°You¡¯re dead,¡± he declared as he poked her ribs.

    Kate didn¡¯t have a witty remark to say back. She didn¡¯t say anything. The only sound that came from her was the rhythmic panting. The young woman slowly got up before she limped towards the water barrel. Harald wiped the sweat off his brow.

    ¡°That¡¯ll be all for sparring,¡± he said to the observing trainees.

    As they all moved to get their things and leave, Harald stuck around to rest. As he downed water from his canteen, Helen approached.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°I doubt it,¡± the ex-marauder scoffed. ¡°You¡¯re angrier than usual. More stricter as well. You made poor Rowan spar with you five times. You didn¡¯t even hold back.¡±

    ¡°Their enemies won¡¯t hold back,¡± Harald responded.

    Helen raised an inquisitive eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s what it''s about? Their enemies? I doubt they¡¯ll be facing people as skilled as you.¡±

    ¡°Battle is unpredictable. Random. They¡¯ll never be ready if I don¡¯t¨C¡±

    ¡°No one is ever ready,¡± Helen argued. ¡°That¡¯s how life is. That¡¯s how it¡¯ll always be.¡± Her words were enough to make Harald pause. The veteran stared at his canteen. His thoughts went back to what he saw in that cursed dream with William. He hadn¡¯t spoken about it to anyone outside of James. Even then, their talk was minimal. Harald had refused to delve into it with him.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been on edge since coming back¡­ What the hell happened in Vindis?¡± Helen prodded.

    Harald raised his head, his gaze moving to the blonde woman. He closed his canteen of water. ¡°You still have rum to spare?¡±

    ¡°Rum? What¨C?¡±

    ¡°I know you keep it in your waterskin,¡± Harald revealed.

    The ex-marauder¡¯s face turned a bright red from the accusation, yet she didn¡¯t seem to deny any of it. ¡°Fine¡­¡±

    Helen moved to grab at her waterskin, which sat on the nearby bench. Both veterans sat down together, rum in hand as they drank. Despite the rum reeking of alcohol, the veteran barely got a buzz off of it. Harald had long ago built a tolerance to liquor, his body more than used to it all. It was comparable to Bjorn¡¯s own resistance.

    For a good few minutes, both trainers sat there in silence, simply drinking as they watched the training ground. Finally, Harald spoke up. ¡°You fought in the Outsider Wars, correct?¡±

    ¡°Aye. Fought for the Redyr Clan battalion for a good four years before I left and became a mercenary,¡± Helen responded as she took a swig. ¡°Of course, mercenary work wasn¡¯t really much following the years after the war.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why you became a marauder?¡± Harald asked.

    Helen laughed at that. ¡°That is a box I do not want to reopen¡­¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t prod,¡± Harald chuckled as he took the rum from her.

    He took a swig of the burning liquid, his thoughts going back to the years of the war. ¡°Three years in the war? How old were you?¡±

    ¡°Barely twenty,¡± Helen responded. ¡°I could¡¯ve joined much sooner, but uh¡­ familial issues.¡± The blonde woman sighed. ¡°How about you? How old were you?¡±

    ¡°Twenty-five when it started,¡± Harald answered.

    ¡°Started?¡± Helen raised an eyebrow. ¡°You were Lumen weren¡¯t you? So that means¡­?¡±

    Harald nodded. ¡°I was fighting Valenfrost clans in the beginning.¡± He looked down at the waterskin in his hands. ¡°Redyr, Halvorson, Falk, you name it, I killed someone from that clan.¡±

    ¡°Frontlines?¡± Helen questioned.

    ¡°Captain,¡± Harald muttered. ¡°Lumen Kingdom was only fighting for a year, but that was enough for both sides to deal serious damage. Even when we sided together to fight off the barbarians, we hated each other for a good portion of the conflict.¡±

    ¡°Damn,¡± Helen whistled. She leaned over to grab the waterskin of rum from the older man¡¯s hands. ¡°You fought the whole time, didn¡¯t you? I can¡¯t imagine going through that for fifteen years.¡±

    ¡°Eleven years,¡± Harald corrected. ¡°I only fought for eleven of those years.¡±

    Helen raised an eyebrow mid-drink. ¡°Eleven? Did you retire or something towards the end?¡±

    ¡°Something like that,¡± Harald answered in a sigh. There was some silence between the two, the only sound being that of the rum trickling down from Helen¡¯s waterskin. The veteran¡¯s mind ran through the events of the conflict, his eyes closing as he recalled his low points. It prompted a sickening question in the back of his mind, one that his morbid curiosity got the better of.

    ¡°What was the worst thing you saw during the war?¡± Harald murmured suddenly. The question caught the ex-marauder off-guard, her face contorting into worry.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°Just answer the question. If you do, I¡¯ll tell you mine.¡±

    Helen looked visibly uncomfortable, but her expression changed rather quickly to a thoughtful look. Finally, she spoke, her usual boisterous voice soft and steady.

    ¡°I¡¯d say it had to be during my first year in the frontlines. The conflict was already dying down by then, but the brutality wasn¡¯t.¡± She sighed as she leaned against the wall. ¡°Barbarians were getting desperate at that point. They were doing scorching tactics and leaving islands uninhabitable. During my second raid, I saw the extent of it.¡±

    She took a deep breath, her hand quickly raising the waterskin to her lips. After she took a drink, she went back to her story. ¡°East island, one of the ones closer to Azurvale. Barbarians were mid-way of burning the settlement when we came in. Of course, we do our best to stop the flames and kill those bastards. But, you can¡¯t do two things at once.¡± Helen rubbed her eyes in frustration.

    ¡°The fire only managed to burn half the island before we managed to put it out. Once the barbarians were taken care of, we searched for survivors. And what do you know, we found them!¡± Helen extended her arms in the air to signify celebration. ¡°They were tied up, kept as prisoners.¡± She explained. Her expression faltered. ¡°But¡­ after we freed them, we soon realized that they were all adults. Artisans, merchants, mothers, fathers¡­¡± Helen¡¯s voice trailed off.

    Silence again. Harald had a feeling where this story was going, and it made him sick.

    ¡°We found the bodies in another hut, one not too far from the building where the survivors were. The fire got to them before the adults,¡± Helen muttered after a few quiet seconds. Harald didn¡¯t know what to say. Then again, what could anyone say? The veteran himself had seen things such as this, some even worse. Yet, for the life of him, he could never find the combination of words that could be accepted as comfort for this situation. For now, respectable silence was all he could do.

    Helen sighed softly, her voice almost shaking. ¡°Sometimes I wonder¡­ I wonder if they heard them. Beyond the walls, through the crackling of flames¡­ It¡¯s such a morbid thought, yet I keep¡­¡± She shook her head for a moment. The ex-marauder then did something that surprised Harald. She chuckled. Not a happy chuckle, but one that stemmed from nerves. Harald recognized it. How could he not?

    ¡°Sorry. I¡¯m not as hardened as you men,¡± Helen laughed. ¡°My emotions tend to get the best of me¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s normal,¡± Harald said. He himself had seen men break down from deeds they have witnessed and done. Battle brothers who turned the sword on themselves to get away from the pain. Harald had seen it all. Despite what she said, Helen was good at hiding her inner turmoil and better at dealing with it than most.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°I guess so.¡± The woman veteran turned to him. ¡°What about you? What¡¯s the worst thing you¡¯ve seen?¡± Her question came at Harald like a flying knife. He had forgotten about his end of this. The grizzled man took a breath of the air, his hand reaching out for the waterskin. Helen handed it to him. Harald took a drink, his mind going back to those painful years.

    ¡°It all blends together in a way,¡± he admitted. ¡°I¡¯ve seen children put under the sword for nothing and women throw themselves into the sea to avoid the primal urges of man.¡± Harald frowned. ¡°But¡­ If I have to choose the worst moment. It would have to be the day I lost everything¡­¡± He looked at Helen. ¡°Promise you won¡¯t blab this out to everyone?¡±

    ¡°Promise.¡± Helen grinned with a drunken air.

    Harald sighed and laid his head back. He didn¡¯t know if it was the drink or the feeling of comfort he had around a fellow veteran. All he knew was that he needed to let it off his chest.

    ¡°I was a Herald during the war,¡± he revealed.

    ¡°Herald? Like¡­ a chosen champion of the gods?¡± Helen asked with wide eyes.

    Harald nodded. ¡°Chosen by Azlene when I turned fifteen. From that day, I had everything planned out for me.¡± He chuckled. ¡°From training to dieting, all the way to how I would die.¡± Harald remembered those days. How the priests from Azlene¡¯s temple would explain his whole life plan.

    ¡°Really?¡± Helen asked. ¡°Your death?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Harald nodded. ¡°I was supposed to die in a blaze of glory, giving my life for my beliefs. Told by the oracle herself.¡±

    ¡°What a load of shit that must have been,¡± the blonde woman guffawed.

    ¡°Believe me, I still chuckle about it to this day.¡± The veteran admitted.

    ¡°Are you still a champion?¡± Helen asked. ¡°You don¡¯t exactly scream ¡®chosen¡¯ to me.¡±

    Harald shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t have it with me. All my spells, my castings¡­ It¡¯s all gone.¡± Harald could still feel the runes on his body, the ones that were imprinted onto him by the goddess herself. They laid dormant on his chest and back, their power long dead. ¡°I lost it on that day, I told you. The worst day of my life,¡± he explained. ¡°It was so long ago, yet I can still taste the rain and smell the ash¡­¡± Harald muttered.

    ¡°Four years before the war ended. Barbarians took an island fort and were holding it. I was the head of the troop who was stationed there to hold it under siege. We were there for weeks, awaiting reinforcements. When reinforcements did come, they were less than promised. Some of the men suggested that we should wait for another set of reinforcements, but at that point I was already impatient.¡± Harald scratched at his beard. ¡°I thought that my heraldry was more than enough for the fort. So, we charged in. I forced them all to do it and promised that I would get them through it alive.¡±

    The veteran took a deep breath, his hands clenched tightly.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Helen asked softly, all of her jest gone from her tone.

    ¡°It was a massacre. I had thought that a weeks-long siege would be enough to drain them of their supplies but¡­ I was wrong.¡± Harald took a swig of the rum. He wished the drink would do more to numb the painful memory. Yet it only succeeded in making him disoriented. ¡°Fifty good men died that day and even more were taken as prisoners. In the end only a handful of us managed to successfully retreat.¡±

    The memory of that day was still burning in his mind. Harald could still hear the screams of men and the war-cries of barbarians. They had ambushed them and were taking full advantage of their aggressive push. Harald had only managed to survive through his castings, which had kept the barbarians away enough to allow him and a small group of men to retreat.

    ¡°One of those men was William Thatcher,¡± Harald murmured. ¡°Knight in training, he was brought along with the initial reinforcements. Most of the men who died came from his troop.¡± Harald recalled William. He was a bright eyed kid, one that didn¡¯t see much combat. He was young, too young to be witnessing horrors like that battle. ¡°He was full of rage and sorrow. More so than any of us. To the point where he challenged me to a duel.¡±

    ¡°Gods¡­¡± Helen shook her head.

    Harald nodded. ¡°I only accepted it because I wanted to let him get his rage out. To let him cope. But I underestimated him¡­¡±

    ¡°He won, didn¡¯t he?¡± Helen asked.

    The veteran man nodded. ¡°I still think about it. I don¡¯t know why I lost. Perhaps it was because his will was stronger than mine. Maybe it was because I wanted to lose¡­ That I deserved to be killed.¡± Harald sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know why he let me live. I probably won¡¯t ever know.¡±

    ¡°Do you have to know?¡± Helen asked. ¡°Things like that, I don¡¯t think we should dwell on.¡± She pointed out as she grabbed the rum filled flask from Harald. ¡°We should live our lives as they are. Forget the past and focus on our futures.¡±

    That earned a small chuckle from the older man. ¡°Maybe I should take your advice. I¡¯ve spent enough time dwelling on the past.¡±

    ¡°Aye, to forgetting the past.¡± Helen grinned as she raised the flask.

    ¡°To forgetting the past.¡±

    <hr>

    Seamus sat alone at the harbor. It was close to nighttime, meaning that the area was close to empty. his hands holding onto the pouch he was given the other day. He didn''t know what to think of it. Was Falrick trying to make amends to him? Did that Wizard really want his forgiveness?

    ¡°It''s all so complicated.¡± Seamus groaned. He wished he had tagged along for James¡¯ venture to the orc tribe. He would¡¯ve pushed it all to the back of his mind. Forget about all of it.

    ¡®No. You¡¯re just afraid of the past,¡¯ Seamus mentally chastised himself. ¡®Ever since then, you¡¯ve been avoiding it. You have to accept it, Seamus.¡¯

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Someone called out to him. Seamus perked up at the question, his head turning to the person speaking. Kate stood there, still in her guardsmen garb.

    ¡°I¡¯m just pondering. The sea makes me think better,¡± he answered.

    ¡°Really?¡± Kate stepped up to the harbor¡¯s edge where Seamus sat. ¡°I come here too whenever I need to think things over. It¡¯s nice and quiet, perfect for whenever you need to get away from idiots,¡± Kate commented

    Seamus chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m guessing the recruits are making your day worse?¡±

    ¡°Opposite actually,¡± Kate responded with a laugh. ¡°I¡¯m finding them easier to deal with than Harris or Dirk.¡±

    ¡°Harris, he¡¯s the¡­?¡±

    ¡°The one with half an arm,¡± Kate confirmed. ¡°Might as well have half a brain too.¡± She chuckled. ¡°Still, he tries. I¡¯ll give him that.¡±

    Kate sat down next to the young man, a tired sigh escaping her breath. ¡°What are you really doing here, Seamus?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking,¡± Seamus reiterated.

    ¡°About?¡± Kate raised an eyebrow. The young man opened his mouth to answer, but he stopped himself. He instead stayed quiet, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. For a while, both of them were silent, the only sounds being the lapping waves. Truth be told, Seamus did not want to burden Kate with the depressing thoughts that held him down. If she knew what he did, she would most likely stop talking to him altogether. The last thing he wanted was to complain to her about it all.

    After a minute of awkward silence, Kate sighed. The guardswoman leaned back on her arms.

    ¡°Back when I was little, my dad would take me to the shop,¡± she started suddenly. ¡°He wanted to show me what he was leaving behind for me. My responsibilities and my future.¡± She smiled a little. ¡°You want to know what I did everytime he took me? I screamed, kicked, and bit him. I told him I wanted to be an adventurer, something beyond the average storekeeper. Throughout my childhood, I revolted against him. Every time I did, he only smiled and entertained my fantasies.¡± Kate chuckled.

    ¡°I was so pissed with him. I thought he wasn¡¯t taking me seriously, that he only wanted me to stay stuck in some shop for the rest of my life, same as his dad before him.¡± The guardswoman brushed some of her hair away from her eyes. Seamus noted that her smile faltered.

    ¡°In the end, I realized that he was taking me seriously,¡± Kate muttered. ¡°That sword I gave to you? It wasn¡¯t part of the shop¡¯s inventory. That was the sword my dad left me. Years ago, when I was finally an adult, he gifted it to me. Told me that he wanted me to go out adventuring at some point, to leave this island and make a name.¡±

    Seamus felt his heart drop. ¡°I-I¡¯m so sorry I didn¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s alright, Seamus.¡± Kate smiled. ¡°I was the one who gave it up. Back then, I thought I was nothing more than some stranded girl, destined for a shopkeeper''s role.¡± The guardswoman sighed. ¡°I wish I had more confidence in myself then. I wish I owned up to what I told my dad, to what he wanted me to do. In the end, he never wanted me to be just some shopkeep. He wanted me to be what I was destined to be.¡±

    ¡°You can still be an adventurer, go out and explore Valenfrost,¡± Seamus pointed out. ¡°You¡¯re not restricted here¡­¡±

    Kate laughed a little. ¡°Maybe. Maybe one day I¡¯ll have the courage to do it. For now, however, I still love this town. My father did and I could see why.¡±

    ¡°You can still come back whenever you feel like it, nothing is holding you back,¡± Seamus encouraged.

    Kate tilted her head at the young man. ¡°You believe I should do what I want, be what I need to be?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Seamus answered.

    Kate chuckled at that. ¡°You really are oblivious, aren''t you, Halvorson?¡± She muttered.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Seamus narrowed his brow.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you went through. Gods, I could only imagine the horrors you saw. Still, I can try to empathize.¡± The guardswoman sighed. ¡°We both lost people we cared for. Loved ones that we¡¯ll never get back.¡± Kate moved her hand to Seamus¡¯. ¡°Remembering them doesn¡¯t mean you should live in the past. You should honor their memory by living the life they gifted you.¡±

    Seamus was quiet. He looked down at the young woman¡¯s hand, which was covered in calluses and scars. It was a far cry from the soft and fragile hands she once had all those months ago.

    ¡°You¡¯re not alone.¡± Kate muttered softly. Seamus clenched his jaw, doing his best to hold it back in. if he allowed himself to be weak in front of someone like Kate, he would never be looked at the same. Seamus opened his mouth to say something, to tell her that he was getting tired. That he needed to go off and do something. Before he could his excuse out, his eyes locked onto hers.

    Kate¡¯s expression was not of judgment or false empathy. She truly looked sorrowful. The look in her eyes was something Seamus felt daily. The same feelings he harbored in his soul. She understood it and she was opening herself up to him. Why couldn¡¯t Seamus do the same?

    ¡®Am I that selfish? To think that I was the only one who lost people? That I alone should keep suffering for it?¡¯

    The young man didn¡¯t move as the guardswoman leaned closer, her arms snaking around him. Before he knew it, she was embracing him. Seamus slowly moved to return it, his face burying itself into her shoulder. For the first time in months, he felt as if he was safe

 B.3 Chapter 36: Change on the Rise

    The early morning sky was a cloudy gray, its miserable appearance reminding James of Frost¡¯s constant monotone feel. Draugr¡¯s Haunt was rocking beneath him, the longship¡¯s journey through the waters far from smooth. While it once gave him motion sickness and fear of the sea, James was far from emptying his stomach over the edge of the railing. He was instead focused on what he saw the previous night. His time with Iendis and the fates he was subjected to. Despite brushing off the experience, James hadn¡¯t been the same. Truth be told, he was freaked out by it all.

    Earthlings, death, fate. All of it was on his mind. It didn¡¯t help that he had only gotten answers and loose promises from his trip to the tree of fate.

    ¡®Do you think we¡¯ll be able to fix our wound?¡¯ Faust spoke up, interrupting James¡¯ thoughts.

    ¡®Iendis told us herself. We can heal it. It¡¯s possible. We just need to somehow find a way for Dahlia to figure it out.¡¯ James answered sourly. As much as he wanted to, James couldn¡¯t discuss what had happened to Dahlia. Faust was the only one he could tell his fates to.

    The speaker back at that island had informed James that his meeting with Iendis was only for him and Faust to know, no one else. That meant James couldn¡¯t share anything with his closest friends.

    Of course, that didn¡¯t prevent him from trying. Just the other night he had tried to tell Dahlia about his meeting with the demi-goddess. It didn¡¯t end well. The second he had started speaking, his body locked up. His throat had turned to cotton and his chest felt as if it was being squeezed. James couldn¡¯t say a single damned thing about his meeting. Even mentioning what Iendis looked like sparked this response.

    The shaman didn¡¯t take it well. She was currently on the other side of the deck, avoiding eye contact with the blond man.

    James couldn¡¯t blame her. It wasn¡¯t easy for Dahlia. She had tried her damndest to find a solution, to figure out how to save James. Iendis was her final hope and the closest thing to an explanation she got was a vague answer and stacked odds. Dahlia needed time.

    ¡®What was the point of meeting Iendis if I can¡¯t even tell my friends?¡¯ James wondered.

    ¡®That¡¯s the cost of the Tree of Fate, I suppose,¡¯ Faust muttered. ¡®These are your fates to know. To tell anyone else alive would be clueing them in on their own fates. Perhaps that is why I am the only one who you¡¯re allowed to tell.¡¯

    James cursed under his breath at that. It was such a stupid rule. He would still be changing the fates of those around him. What would change if Dahlia or Seamus knew about it?

    ¡°The gods really are something¡­¡± James murmured. He looked up at the clouded sky, recalling what Iendis had told him about fate favoring him.

    ¡®Maybe it would be better if we¡¯re out of the equation. Balance fate¡¯s scales so that the clan lives on.¡¯

    James now knew the dangers of his lucky escapades. The consequences of his actions. The more he continued to escape danger and avoid death, the more people that would suffer because of it.

    ¡®Do not think like that. We cannot attribute our life to the suffering of others,¡¯ Faust said.

    ¡®Faust¡­¡¯

    ¡®We are alive for a reason, no? Fate favors us. For what, I do not know. What I do know is that we cannot throw our lives away so carelessly. We have a clan to lead, a home to grow, and friends to protect.¡¯

    James could feel how his body rose in heat as Faust ranted.

    ¡®You have something I never had, James. You have a chance to lead a better life. Instead of sulking about your cursed futures, we should instead focus on acquiring one for the clan.¡¯

    Faust¡¯s words hit James in a way he didn¡¯t expect. The Centurion was right. The fates he had seen at that tree only detailed his own. The only one that showed a safe future for his friends and clan was the one with the Outlanders.

    ¡®You¡¯re right¡­¡¯

    James reached into his satchel and pulled out a small pink blossom. Even in the dull light of the clouded day, it glowed with vibrancy. This was the one blossom he kept, the one that showed an actual good ending. Iendis had told him to hold onto it, as good luck for his travels.

    ¡®Maybe we can acquire a good future for the clan¡­¡¯ James thought.

    ¡®How do you suppose we acquire this fate?¡¯ Faust questioned.

    ¡°I have to find them,¡± James answered. ¡°The Outlanders.¡± He remembered their names. Arthur and Naomi. Both summoned from Earth by conniving gods and sentenced to survive in this world. Even if Arthur was sided with the Lumen Kingdom, there had to be some sense the blond man could knock into him.

    ¡°That¡¯s our mission. Once the clan is financially stable and we get our bond fixed, we will find them.¡±

    <hr>

    Gwenyth pulled on her hood, doing her best to hide herself in this part of Vindis. The slums known as the copper district was a shithole to say the least. Scum and criminals scoured the edge of the shadows, their presence enough to make anyone fear for their life. The elf herself wasn¡¯t fearful of the slums. She felt more on edge than afraid. While no mere thug could do anything to really threaten her, she still had to keep herself secluded and secretive. If she got into a fight, word about her and her group could reach the ears of the thieves guild.

    Gwenyth made a face at the thought of that crime syndicate. The fact that those swindlers and scum made an entire guild for their crimes was a despicable thought. They ruled Vindis from the shadows, which made it all the worst. The city was corrupted from the roots, making it an infeasible feat to try and control it. The clans that fought for its ¡®control¡¯ were doing it in vain. Just because you say you own it, does not mean you actually do. In the end, it would be the people and scum that truly control it.

    ¡°We¡¯re close,¡± Arthur called back to her.

    ¡°We are?¡± Gwenyth asked. They were still in the slums, where most of the platforms still shook and dead ships were used as makeshift buildings. ¡°Your contact couldn¡¯t afford to live in a better place?¡±

    ¡°The watch never comes around here,¡± Arthur explained to her. ¡°Makes it secluded enough for us to continue with our work.¡± The former apostle continued his brisk pace, not missing a single beat as he passed by hobos and worn out escorts.

    Gwenyth had to give it to him, Arthur blended in with the locale seamlessly. His way of movement and speech was enough for him to look like he was one with the peasants. Eilif and William on the other hand, stood out like beacons. The herald looked out of place, his staring and muffled gags making it clear that he was not a commoner. William was a soldier, sure, but he was far from used to the peasantry. The herald had lived in Lumen City most of his life. The sight of slums and decrepit buildings was definitely off putting for him.

    Eilif didn¡¯t stand out as much as him, but the bounty hunter still looked creepy to be around. His brass goggles and grinning mask were unsettling to look at, which certainly made it harder for him to blend in. The immortal man also had his cloak and hood on, which was supposed to conceal his figure and mask but Gwenyth could still see how the locals reacted to his visage. She couldn¡¯t blame them. On the surface, Eilif reassembled the boatman, ready to reap the souls of this helhole.

    Out of the group, only Gwenyth and Arthur looked like they belonged. The elf herself had counted a few strange looks directed at her, but she knew it wasn¡¯t for her disguise. To see a young looking woman in these parts was possibly a rarity of all things. Even with her hood up and her cloak covering her body, she could still catch the looks of dirty looking men and the toothless grins of degenerates. The elf had to refrain herself from reacting to the stares by tearing these vermin a new one.

    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Arthur suddenly spoke up. The group stopped dead in their tracks. Gwenyth peered over the old man¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°You¡¯re joking.¡± She grimaced. Where she expected a building, there was none. There was instead a capsized galleon, its hull facing the sky. Runic symbols and war paint decorated the hull, along with the name.

    TOUKA

    It was so exposed, so out there. She wondered if Arthur was fucking with her.

    ¡°This is your contact¡¯s hideout?¡± Gwenyth added with disbelief.

    Arthur sighed. ¡°It is. As hard as it is to believe, this is where we¡¯ll be setting our operations.¡±

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    ¡°You couldn¡¯t find a better spot?¡± William commented. ¡°This is¡­ really exposed.¡±

    ¡°Believe me. This place is safe,¡± Arthur assured everyone with a wave of his hand. ¡°The town watch refuses to come to this part of town and thieves guild don¡¯t dare to tread this area,¡± he continued as he walked towards the capsized ship. Gwenyth reluctantly followed behind, but not before checking her surroundings first. She couldn¡¯t shake off the feeling that she was being watched.

    The group managed to fit through the opening at the rear of the ship, where cargo would usually go in for a galleon this size. The dust heavy atmosphere was enough to make the elf sneeze, her eyes red with tears as she waved off the thickening air. Eilif seemed to be the only one not affected by it, which was obvious. William had to cover his mouth with his cloak, and even then he occasionally coughed and sneezed.

    Gwenyth squinted through the low light of the ship''s interior, her focus on Arthur. The Outlander was wearing his scarf over his nose and mouth, keeping him from coughing and sneezing like the rest. He stopped over a hatch the elf didn¡¯t see before. He kicked at it, causing it to swing open.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Gwenyth asked as she approached.

    ¡°Ladder,¡± Arthur simply answered. ¡°We¡¯re going down.¡± He looked at the elf, his eyebrow raising. ¡°Ladies first?¡±

    ¡°Very kind of you.¡± Gwenyth rolled her eyes as she stepped to the open hatch. The elf cautiously took her time climbing down, her vision clearing a little as she got adjusted to the darkness. Naturally, her eyes could see through the dark if given time. Common elves already had better eyesight than humans, but Gwenyth¡¯s was superior. The deck was nearly empty, the only thing around being all but crates and random furniture long abandoned. Once the elf reached the floor, Arthur was already halfway down.

    ¡°What is this place?¡± Gwenyth asked.

    ¡°An old hideout, once used by thieves,¡± the former apostle explained. ¡°That is, until it was taken over.¡±

    ¡°Who took it over?¡± William called out as he started his descent. Before Arthur could shout an answer, the floor shook. Gwenyth tensed up at the feeling, her sense going sharp as the air suddenly turned electric. The particles in the air froze for a moment, as did everything around the elf. She grabbed at her saber, her gaze moving to wherever the source of the magic could be.

    Gwenyth was midway with unsheathing the blade before a hand grabbed at her shoulder. Her focus was broken and the elf stopped.

    ¡°Stand down,¡± Arthur boomed. Gwenyth stared at him, unsure if he was asking for a punch to his throat. Before she could berate the former apostle, she stopped herself. Arthur wasn¡¯t talking to her.

    ¡°You told me you were with trusted people.¡± a female voice called out nowhere. Without warning, the air shimmered and shifted before the group. Illusion magic was dispelled and Gwenyth was met with the sight of a witch. The black haired woman looked beyond angry, her hands already mid-way through forming runes.

    ¡°These are trusted people,¡± Arthur started, his hand gesturing to the group.

    ¡°That is a silver-haired elf! Are you trying to get me smited?¡± The witch pointed at Gwenyth with an accusatory glance.

    The elf raised an eyebrow at the witch. Despite the fact that this woman could accurately tell that she was a silver-haired elf, she had outed herself as being stupid enough to believe that the pure blooded elves were products of the goddess Delphine. It was a common myth, but one founded in fear.

    ¡°This is your contact?¡± Gwenyth asked in a mutter.

    Arthur sighed and nodded. ¡°This is Lydia. She has a tendency to be careful when it comes to the divine.¡± His words seemed to anger the witch more.

    ¡°Excuse me for being careful, but I do not want to risk the golden bitch¡¯s wrath just because I was around her precious descendants.¡± The witch argued with a scowl.

    ¡°That is a myth,¡± Gwenyth countered. ¡°I have no relation with her. Believe me.¡± The elf raised her prosthetic, her hand lowering the bandages to showcase the wrist. Lydia raised an eyebrow at the gesture, before her eyes settled on the small insignia embedded in the enchanted porcelain. Her reaction dropped at the sight of it, her features losing its aggression.

    ¡°How did you¡­?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a long story. I¡¯d rather not get into it,¡± Gwenyth sighed as she lowered her arm. ¡°Do you still believe us to be her inquisitors?¡±

    ¡°No. That insignia is proof enough,¡± Lydia muttered as she lowered her hands.

    ¡°What about the herald?¡± Eilif suddenly asked. ¡°You don¡¯t seem particularly upset about William here.¡±

    ¡°Azlene has nothing against the dark arts,¡± The witch explained. ¡°In fact, her old clergy used dark magic in the past. The ember goddess might side with the golden whore, but she¡¯s not fully into the whole ¡®light¡¯ side of things.¡±

    That caused the immortal to chuckle a little, his raspy voice making it sound like he was heaving.

    ¡°You on the other hand¡­¡± Lydia muttered. ¡°What are you?¡±

    ¡°I am a simple bounty hunter,¡± Eilif answered. ¡°No need to pay me any attention.¡± The response was far from what Lydia wanted. The witch narrowed her gaze at the cloaked man, her mouth opening for another question.

    Before she could get one out however, Arthur interrupted. ¡°We¡¯re not here for an introduction. Lydia, you said you found our target?¡±

    ¡°I did. Last month, a man came here. He made contact with the thieves guild and made some kind of trade with them.¡±

    ¡°Trade?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t know what deal they made, but it was pricey enough that they sent him off to hunt my former mentor down,¡± Lydia explained.

    ¡°Your mentor? The necromancer?¡± Arthur asked with a surprised tone. ¡°Is he¡­?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Lydia shook her head. ¡°The idiot instead went off to join him. For studying purposes of course.¡±

    The witch¡¯s words visibly stunned Arthur. He clenched his fists. ¡°He has Malik with him? Are you serious?¡±

    ¡°Believe me, I tried to stop him,¡± Lydia huffed. ¡°That moron saw something in him.¡±

    The elf couldn¡¯t believe what she was hearing. Their perpetrator had a necromancer on his side now? He made dealings with the thieves guild? It was dangerous to think about, a man with dark connections. It was enough to make Arthur visibly shocked. That itself made Gwenyth on edge.

    ¡®What are we dealing with?¡¯

    ¡°This man, the one your mentor went with, what¡¯s he like?¡± Gwenyth asked suddenly.

    ¡°He was tall, blond, and looked disheveled. Appearances aside, he was something I had never seen before,¡± Lydia described.

    The elf raised an eyebrow. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°He had a spirit in him. Bonded with his ley lines like a second soul. They fought in sync and used an assortment of magic. Necromancy, cryomancy, mind manipulation, control of the undead, unlike anything I saw before.¡±

    ¡°The Draugr,¡± Arthur muttered.

    The Draugr. Gwenyth remembered the rumors of such a man. They had their suspicions, but it was still a surprise that their perpetrator was the same man who was feared in the southern islands.

    ¡°That confirms it,¡± William muttered behind Gwenyth. ¡°The Draugr is the same man who broke the ley lines.¡±

    ¡°Where is he?¡± Arthur asked.

    ¡°He¡¯s not in Vindis anymore,¡± Lydia revealed. ¡°He left with Malik some time ago. Not sure where they went.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Arthur shook his head. ¡°Is this place secured?¡± He asked suddenly.

    ¡°It is. Malik or not, this place is still mine,¡± Lydia proudly stated.

    ¡°Good,¡± Arthur glanced around the musty ship. ¡°We¡¯ll set our base of operations here. Watch the city and make sure this Draugr is our guy.¡± His words seemed to infuriate the witch.

    ¡°What? You¡¯re not setting your base here!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to. Otherwise our deal is off,¡± Arthur revealed. That did something. Lydia¡¯s look of annoyance was replaced with seething rage.

    ¡°You better not, Clarke! You promised me!¡± The witch shouted.

    ¡°You promised to help me in any way you can. Until the ley lines are sealed once more, you¡¯re not getting anything from me.¡± Arthur¡¯s words hung in the dust filled air. Lydia only stared at him, her jaw visibly clenching. Finally, she broke eye contact.

    ¡°Fine! Do what you want but you owe me.¡± The witch turned around, heading off to the hatch nearby.

    Gwenyth watched as the young woman climbed down, leaving the group all alone. ¡°What was that about?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I made her a deal a long time ago.¡± Arthur revealed.

    ¡°Deal?¡±

    ¡°Her brother was killed years back. I made a deal with her to give her the man who did it,¡± Arthur explained.

    The elf raised an eyebrow. ¡°You know who it was?¡±

    ¡°Of course I do.¡± Arthur sighed, his fingers moving to rub at his eyes. ¡°The Red Death himself. Deimos.¡±

    <hr>

    The spell crystal sat alone on the table, its dull blue hue showcasing nothing extraordinary. The Red Death watched it with calm patience, awaiting for the call that was due a couple minutes ago. Just as he was about to question Eli''s punctuality, the glass surface glowed and hummed. He grinned, his hand moving to grab at it.

    ¡°Jackal,¡± Deimos muttered the passcode for it. In response, the crystal shone some more, signifying that a connection was made.

    ¡°What¡¯s your update?¡± He asked. The crystal shimmered and blinked at his question before responding in a low hum.

    ¡°There isn¡¯t much. Holter¡¯s process is hard to track, mainly from the lack of ley lines. We are in a floating city.¡±

    ¡°But you have found a trace?¡± Deimos raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Yes. It reeks of him. My raven found traces of him around the slums and harbor. There is also talk of a draugr in the shadows.¡± Eli¡¯s voice came in a low whisper, almost as if he was trying not to get caught. ¡°I believe he is dealing with the thieves guild here.¡±

    ¡°So his influence reaches farther than we thought.¡± Deimos chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. ¡°Continue to investigate, see what else there is about the city.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir¡­ Are we going to carry out the initiative?¡± The last word Eli spoke out was coated in what Deimos could assume was excitement.

    The Red Death smiled. ¡°Soon. When the pieces are in place, we shall carry out and seize the opportunity.¡±

 Interlude: Message Incoming

    Alfred stood alone in his personal room, his eyes focusing on the city of Lumen. The city was one of the biggest in the world, its size enough to rival ancient kingdoms. It was a peaceful place as well, with the lowest crime rate and highest magic user per capita. The Wizard grew up here, studied here, and taught here. It was his home, one that protected and cared for him.

    Alfred sighed as he sat back in his chair, his hand swiping at the air. The illusion shimmered and shifted, fading away to reveal the stone wall of his room. The old man rubbed at his eyes tiredly. It had been over two months since he sent Gwenyth and her group off to Valenfrost. They hadn¡¯t sent one message, not through crystal nor letter. He wondered if they had found the source of the fractures or even had a lead on it. While he hoped they got their job done soon, he worried about Arthur.

    The Outlander had a tendency to strain relations with his teammates. While it usually evened out at the end, Alfred was worried that Gwenyth might fight back against it. The elf hated being kept in the dark. She was avidly against omitted details, especially when it came to life threatening missions.

    ¡°Maybe I should have told her the truth,¡± Alfred muttered to himself. He thought back to the day of the Bloom solstice, back when she left for Norum. Gwenyth hadn¡¯t changed from her old self, her attitude and personality still there. She was like a statue, her beauty and elegance frozen in time. Alfred remembered the days of his youth, back when he was still learning to be a spellcaster. He looked down at his scarred palm. Such a long time ago.

    Just as he reminisced about the days of old, a knock came across his door. The Wizard stood and moved to the wooden entrance, his frail hands nudging the lock open.

    ¡°Yes?¡± He asked as he peeked out the door. It was one of the scribes, the young lad¡¯s face flustered and exerted.

    ¡°Master Alfred!¡± He exclaimed. ¡°We have contact with the Valenfrost group!¡±

    ¡°Contact?¡± Alfred questioned.

    ¡°Arthur had set up communications through the totem, Master,¡± The scribe quickly explained. ¡°He has only an hour before the transmission is eroded. We must hurry!¡±

    With that, the Wizard followed the young scribe to the observatory room. They rushed through the halls of the castle, passing by maids and fellow scribes. After crossing through complicated passageways and winding staircases, the two made it to the observatory, where the large illusory map lay. Instead of showcasing Valenfrost or Azurvale, the illusory display showed a set of runes, ones that Alfred quickly recognized.

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    ¡°Dark magic,¡± he realized aloud.

    ¡°Alfred? Are you there?¡± Arthur¡¯s voice came out in a hum from the display, causing the runes to shimmer and the torch lights to dim.

    ¡°I am here,¡± The Wizard answered. ¡°Quite some set up you have there. You do know using dark magic to communicate with me is fundamentally suicide?¡± Alfred¡¯s comment seemed to evoke another voice to answer, this one a female.

    ¡°I told you, you fucking idiot!¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s that with you?¡± Alfred asked.

    ¡°A contact. She¡¯s been assisting us in our mission,¡± the Outlander admitted. ¡°We found the source.¡±

    ¡°You have?¡± Alfred leaned into the table. ¡°Where is it? Can you seal it?¡± There was an air of silence. Finally, Arthur¡¯s voice came back, quieter this time.

    ¡°It¡¯s going to be harder than we thought.¡±

    ¡°Is this why you¡¯ve called me?¡± The Wizard asked.

    ¡°The whole city. Vindis. The perpetrator has spread his influence around. We might be looking at a resistance.¡±

    Alfred cursed. ¡°Dammit! How far does it go?¡±

    ¡°We need to keep investigating but¡­ It looks as if it spreads to the underground markets of the city. There¡¯s also word that his clan is dealing with arenian merchants.¡±

    ¡°His clan?¡± Alfred asked in disbelief. ¡°You need to put a stop to this, Arthur. Soon. The fracture is already enough of a problem but if that Outlander becomes a martyr¡­¡±

    ¡°I know. I can take care of it but it won¡¯t be simple.¡± His words gave the Wizard a sinking realization. One that the Wizard knew was necessary.

    ¡°You will have your reinforcements. You¡¯ll have them when the time comes. You only need to tell me when.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll contact you,¡± Arthur simply said. With that, the transmission fizzled and the display went quiet. Alfred stared at the illusionary chart, his hands gripping onto the table¡¯s edge.

    ¡°Scribe George. Contact Alistair and Commander Michaels. Arrange for a meeting as soon as possible.¡± The scribe nearby nodded quickly, his hand rushing for a piece of parchment.

    Alfred sighed to himself. ¡°It looks like Michaels is going to get what he wants after all¡­¡±

 B.3 Chapter 37: Booming Businesses

    5

    Midsommar

    <hr>

    The wind blew past James peacefully, lifting his cloak and nearly blowing back the blossom in his hand. It had been nearly a month since the day he got it. After weeks of preparing and building up his clan, the black part of the blossom grew smaller.

    ¡°Is that a good sign?¡± Dahlia asked from behind.

    ¡°I guess so.¡± James raised the pink object. He compared it to the distant figure of Yorktown, which had grown in size since.

    ¡°You know¡­ I never thought we¡¯d make it this far,¡± the shaman admitted.

    ¡°Same.¡± James couldn¡¯t help but smile as he tucked the blossom into his tunic. He took another look at Yorktown, this time focusing on the harbor. Arenian ships were docked there, their merchants already moving in to trade with the local marketplace. They were the second wave of trader ships, a followup to Tahir¡¯s initial two. While the town was far from rich, the resurgence in trade was enough to stabilize the economy and give James some coin to work with. That is, thanks to his friends.

    While he couldn¡¯t see it, James knew well that Elaine was currently acting out her second play in the town square. While embarrassing to watch, it did what the bard promised. The clan was able to fund Bjorn¡¯s booze venture and still have coin to rattle around in the coffers. Speaking of which¡­

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to go back to Vindis soon.¡± James sighed.

    ¡°More ingredients for the alcohol?¡± Dahlia asked. ¡°Can¡¯t we get some from the traders around? I¡¯m sure we can work out a cheaper deal from them.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that. Bjorn wants the stuff to go to Vindis¡¯ taverns,¡± James explained.

    The shaman raised an eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s a dangerous move.¡±

    ¡°I know I know.¡± The clan leader nodded in agreement. ¡°Adversity and all that. Thing is, Bjorn wants to move it through the Thieves Guild. He thinks they could do it under the table without risk of tipping other clans off.¡±

    ¡°Still dangerous. Aren¡¯t you on bad terms with Markov?¡±

    ¡°He told me we were good,¡± James responded as he headed off to the trail that led to Yorktown¡¯s borders. ¡°Besides, even if he¡¯s still sore about what happened with Malik, I doubt he¡¯ll turn down an opportunity to make some money.¡±

    ¡°Criminals are still criminals, James,¡± Dahlia called out. That made the young Jarl laugh.

    ¡°Did you forget we¡¯re criminals?¡±

    ¡°Not the same thing¡­¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Take thee, vile creature!¡±

    ¡°Agh! I have been conquered!¡±

    Seamus could only watch with a grimace as the play actor knocked over the other with his wooden training sword. The actor struggled to keep his straw wig on, giving the illusion that he had blond hair.

    ¡°And so, the orc fiend Blood-Irk, fled in terror at the sight of the draugr!¡± Elaine¡¯s voice boomed off-stage. The orc actor that represented Blood-Irk jumped dramatically, his ridiculously deep voice shouting out.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get you next time, draugr!¡± The orc then fled offstage, leaving the actor hero by himself.

    ¡°This is actually pretty funny,¡± Helen chuckled nearby.

    ¡°You¡¯re enjoying this?¡± Seamus asked in disbelief.

    ¡°It¡¯s not supposed to be taken seriously.¡± The ex-marauder shrugged. ¡°Why should I care if it¡¯s bad?¡±

    ¡°Helen has a point,¡± Kate whispered from behind. ¡°It¡¯s bad in a fun way. It beats training honestly.¡± Her comment earned a couple of the trainees¡¯ agreement, their murmurs overlapping each other before they were shushed by Harald, who stood nearby.

    The ¡®auditorium¡¯, as Elaine called it, was nothing more than the training center the guardsmen used. The bard had offered free shows to the guardsmen as payment for using the grounds for her plays. Seamus was sure that it was going to do terribly, as the premise of her plays were ridiculous reenactments of past events. Yet, here was half the town, watching with bated breath as ¡®James¡¯ was dramatically stabbed in the abdomen.

    Seamus only watched out of curiosity, which had developed to complete disbelief and second hand embarrassment. Yet he couldn¡¯t take his eyes off the play itself. It was like watching an accident unfold in front of him, both morbidly fascinating and entertaining. Even Lilith was obsessed, her starry eyes watching the actors with excitement. At least she was having fun.

    The play acted out the rest of the fall of Aldren, showcasing how James and his allies escaped the burning island. By the time Elaine had called for the makeshift curtain to fall, most of the onlookers were murmuring and applauding awkwardly. Seamus could only stare at the patched up cloth that covered the stage. He had very mixed feelings about the bard retelling events that had only transpired months back.

    ¡®Gods, I hope James doesn¡¯t tell her about my actions. The last thing I need is a reminder of it all.¡¯

    The vividness of his fights was still raw to him. To approach them would surely make him go insane. Seamus wasn¡¯t quite ready to face them yet. As he pondered about the possibility of bribing the bard to keep his life story out of the play, a hand touched his shoulder.

    The young man jumped, his gaze moving to the person who grabbed at him. It was Kate, her other hand outstretched to him.

    ¡°We have work to do, Seamus. Don¡¯t forget,¡± the guardswoman said. Seamus was reminded of his responsibilities, which resulted from forgetting his recent training sessions. He groaned and grabbed at the young woman¡¯s hand, helping himself up.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather be training,¡± he complained as he followed Kate to the armory. Lilith noticed this and signed over to the young man.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    Where are you going?

    Seamus signed quickly to the berserker, his facial expression changing to exaggerated exhaustion.

    I¡¯m being held hostage. Send James for me.

    Five months ago, a sign like that would¡¯ve sent Lilith into a fury and rage. Now, the red-haired woman simply chuckled, her hands signing back.

    Good luck.

    ¡°Guard duty is an honor,¡± Kate started, as she pulled Seamus along. ¡°You¡¯re Yorktown¡¯s first line of defense, sworn to keep it safe from intruders,¡± she stated sarcastically. The guardswoman was repeating the same line Harald repeated in every training session. The veteran had always made it his mission to ingrain it into their heads. Seamus himself had grown sick of it, despite missing out on a month¡¯s worth of training.

    Seamus frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why I can¡¯t just do exercises like before. Just make me run, dammit.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I told Harald,¡± Kate responded. ¡°Do you want to know why he rejected that punishment?¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Seamus raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Dirk sprained his ankle doing laps last week. Laps that the entire unit had to go through because of your absence.¡±

    That caused the young man to cringe internally. He had forgotten about Harald¡¯s tactics for Seamus. By forcing his teammates to pay for his mistakes, Seamus was outcast and therefore pressured by their spite and frustration. The punishment was common practice from where the veteran was from. Seamus was regretting skipping sessions, as Harald was upping these punishments and forcing the unit to exert themselves even more. He could still feel the gazes that were burnt into his head from the last time he went in for training.

    The two reached where the armory was located, which had a shiny new building to show for it. Inside, there was an assortment of weapons, most of them confiscated from the fighters of previous raids. Swords, maces, axes, and even a few bows. The new building was made to take in all the new weaponry, as the previous armory was far too small. Seamus swore that the new armory could arm a sizable militia if James really wanted to.

    Kate walked past the weapon racks and hooks, her focus on the folded garbs and gambesons. She threw one to Seamus, who caught it.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have a smaller size?¡± he asked as he fit it on.

    ¡°The guardsmen are growing, Seamus,¡± Kate called out as she fitted on her gambeson. ¡°There¡¯s not enough to accommodate everyone¡¯s size. You get what you get until your Jarl makes enough to rearm us.¡± Kate tightened her gambeson across her waist and arms, making sure that her movements were as unrestricted as possible.

    ¡°James is making the money. Slowly but surely,¡± Seamus answered. He grabbed at the guardsman garb, his eyes passing over the white raven painted over the tabard. It was a recent addition, one made a couple of weeks back.

    ¡°He¡¯d probably have more of the funds if he stopped feeding those bastards in the jails,¡± Kate muttered as she equipped her garb.

    Seamus stopped for a moment. The jails of Yorktown were currently home to the survivors of those who attacked the town back during Frost. Lumen soldiers and even a couple of orcs. They were responsible for the deaths of fellow guardsmen and the last raid. Kate was one of the few that despised their existence and wanted nothing more than to execute them. James was the only thing standing in the way of that, however, as he wanted to spare them and allow them to serve their time. It was a confusing state of things, one that would need to be solved soon.

    ¡°Giving them three square meals a day¡­ What a merciful lord,¡± Kate added as she grabbed a sword from the rack. Seamus only watched as she headed to the doorway. He couldn¡¯t blame her for the resent she felt against those prisoners. She had watched people die in front of her and even killed some in defense. Still, Kate was na?ve to how horrible true bloodshed was. How hellish it was to watch everything go to the flame.

    ¡®I hope she never experiences what I have.¡¯

    Seamus grabbed his sword before he moved to join Kate on their patrol.

    <hr>

    Falrick sighed as he rested back in his chair. He could feel the fabrics of it almost caress his tried bones, the material enough to nearly null him to sleep. Yet he forced himself to stay awake. The parchment in front of him was far from over. Falrick leaned forward and read the runes once more, the ones that he had copied from Frostbite. He had already concluded of what they were weeks ago, but he still found it hard to believe that James had come into possession of it.

    The ship given to the blond man was nothing short of an artifact grade vessel. It was enchanted with gate runes, ones that could transport a man across vast oceans. That is, if given a clear destination. Falrick was currently trying to trace its origin, to see where the ship came from. From the age of the hull and the engraving, he guessed it was a recent enchantment, possibly done during the Outsider Wars. The sorcerer that had done it was skilled, no doubt, but his handiwork was unrecognizable. Falrick guessed it was someone lesser known.

    ¡°Would they work?¡± he muttered to himself. The Wizard hadn¡¯t tested out the theory, out of fear that he would bring attention from the surrounding clans in the south. If they knew that this small town had an artifact grade vessel, Yorktown would be subject to a forceful annexation. As he pondered the possibilities of the runes and the validity of their magic, his door opened. The old man turned to the footsteps, his gaze meeting with that of Lowe.

    ¡°You got those potions ready?¡± The gnome asked.

    ¡°Got them prepared just the other day.¡± Falrick reached for the satchel of vials he kept nearby.

    ¡°Good. The last thing I need is another repeat of the Bloom festival.¡± Lowe grabbed the satchel with care, his tense shoulders relaxing a little.

    ¡°Midsommar, it¡¯s that close?¡± Falrick raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°It¡¯s tomorrow,¡± Lowe revealed. ¡°Bloom was already a mess after the festival, with Haggard and Helen alone causing more damage than necessary.¡± He looked through the satchel, checking the vials.

    Falrick turned in his chair. ¡°Big enough for a mess that you need vitality and health potions?¡±

    ¡°Bloom ended with some injuries. From what I recall, Haggard had a stab wound and Helen injured her ankle. More people had similar injuries. With these potions, we can at least prepare for something similar,¡± Lowe explained all of this to the Wizard, who could only stare.

    Falrick had been a part of the last Bloom festival, but he had mainly stayed on the sidelines and watched from a distance. He had never known about the magnitude of damage it caused.

    ¡°With Midsommar, there¡¯s going to be a higher turnout,¡± Lowe continued. ¡°Arenian traders, merchants, and possibly some travelers from Vindis who want to see Elaine¡¯s plays.¡±

    ¡°This sounds as if it¡¯s going to be chaotic,¡± Falrick commented.

    The gnome closed the satchel, a satisfied sigh coming out. ¡°Honestly, I just hope I¡¯ll be relaxed enough to enjoy myself. I¡¯d live a little longer too if I¡¯m allowed some peace.¡±

    ¡°I could monitor the celebrations if you¡¯d like,¡± Falrick offered. He gestured to his crystal ball, one that he recently bought back on his last trip to Vindis.

    ¡°You can do that?¡± Lowe asked.

    ¡°Of course. Just a wave and a couple of words, and I¡¯ll be able to watch.¡± Falrick nodded.

    The gnome furrowed his brow. ¡°There¡¯s no catch, is there?¡±

    ¡°None that should worry you.¡± The Wizard shrugged. ¡°Just a couple of meads delivered to my door. Keep me up with the celebrations.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a ten-minute walk from here to the center,¡± Lowe muttered.

    ¡°Well, I guess you should run it.¡± Falrick smiled. The gnome sighed tiredly, his hands carrying the satchel over his shoulder.

    ¡°Fine. You¡¯ll get your damn beers,¡± he grumbled on his way out.

    ¡°Honeyed mead,¡± Falrick called out. ¡°None of that barley stuff.¡±

    Lowe didn¡¯t respond verbally or protest. Instead, the Wizard was treated with the amusing sight of the gnome¡¯s middle finger.

 B.3 Chapter 38: Festivities

    James watched with anticipation as Dimitri downed the cup of liquor. The shipmaster frowned and furrowed his brow, obviously tasting it. After a bit, he looked down at Bjorn. ¡°I need another to confirm.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s your second one!¡± The dwarf exclaimed angrily. ¡°You¡¯ll drink the whole keg at this rate!¡± Bjorn slapped the barrel nearby to prove the point. ¡°Now tell us, is it too strong or too watered down?¡±

    Dimitri sighed and set his cup down. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ good? I can definitely tell it¡¯s watered down, but it¡¯s enough to give me a buzz.¡± The shipmaster raised his palm at a horizontal angle, the universal symbol for ¡®meh¡¯.

    ¡°So it should be stronger, I guess,¡± James commented.

    ¡°I knew it!¡± Bjorn exclaimed. ¡°I told you we shouldn¡¯t have watered it down!¡±

    ¡°Why am I being blamed for this? Faust was the alcohol expert!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re relying on the words of a man who was only alive hundreds of years ago!¡± Bjorn pointed out.

    ¡®Tell that dwarf his liquid fuel was enough to make me nearly vomit in the ethereal plane,¡¯ Faust shot back.

    James frowned at that. ¡®Faust, I don¡¯t think you know how liquor works. It¡¯s supposed to be strong and burn like hell.¡¯

    ¡®Alcohol should taste fruitful and elegant. You should be able to appreciate the labor that went into it.¡¯

    ¡®Did you only drink wine in your days?¡¯

    Bjorn seemed to catch onto the conversation, as his eyes narrowed towards James.

    ¡°What¡¯s that spirit saying about me?¡± The dwarf asked in a hostile tone.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± James quickly responded. The last thing he needed was another argument between the two ¡®experts¡¯. Faust had convinced James and Bjorn that he was well versed in the tasting and drinking of alcohol during his days in Cyrus¡¯ Legion. What Faust failed to reveal was that he used to be a complete lightweight and drank only wines.

    The dwarf and the spirit already had their spats in the past weeks, with James being the unfortunate middleman in all of their conversations. Still, in the end, they churned out three barrels of beer and one of liquor. With what little they had, it was a miracle these barrels were here. While Bjorn was still upset that they had to water them down, it was partly done in the name of safety. James had found out quickly that dwarves had a much higher alcohol resistance and were the natural heavyweights in drinking. Natural lightweights went to the elves, as proven from Archibald¡¯s test drink from last week. The elf was still suffering a hangover from the shot of liquor Bjorn gave him.

    Days of testing and drinking had led to ¡®Bjorn¡¯s Liquors and Beers¡¯, a brand name the dwarf thought up for himself. James didn¡¯t dispute it. It was simple, traditional, and devoid of any association with his clan.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s better than the crap they give in Vindis, so it¡¯ll definitely sell better,¡± Dimitri pointed out. ¡°Although, I am worried about the lack of barrels. It¡¯ll sell out quick and you¡¯ll be left with addicted drunkards wanting for more.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the idea,¡± James revealed. ¡°Create enough demand and people will pay anything. Once the barrels are out there, all we¡¯ll have to do is wait and make more.¡±

    Dimitri raised an eyebrow. ¡°Angering drunks doesn¡¯t sound too wise, but then again, you are already competing in a crowded and dangerous market.¡±

    ¡°Aye, it¡¯s perfect.¡± Bjorn nodded. James wasn¡¯t sure if the dwarf truly was in it for the business model. He had a sneaking suspicion that the dwarf reveled in conflict rather than success. Despite this, James couldn¡¯t really complain. The mercenary was the business¡¯ heart and soul. Without him, James really didn¡¯t know what to do.

    That is, until he got the exact science of brewing down. The dwarf had a talent in it, and he wasn¡¯t sharing any knowledge. ¡°Anyway, how long until we¡¯re heading out?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Draugr¡¯s Haunt and Frostbite need to be cleaned, but we can take one of the spare longboats. As for the crew, they¡¯re ready whenever you are, if this is really all you¡¯re taking.¡± Dimitri gestured to the barrels.

    ¡°It¡¯s everything,¡± James confirmed.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll get the men. You and Bjorn sit tight while I do so.¡±

    The shipmaster turned and headed off, leaving the dwarf and Jarl by themselves.

    ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a shame we can¡¯t save this for Midsommar tomorrow,¡± James sighed as he patted the barrel.

    ¡°That¡¯s tomorrow?¡± Bjorn¡¯s expression turned to instant surprise.

    ¡°Yes? We¡¯ve been setting it up this last week?¡± James gestured to the harbor. Aside from the merchants and traders, Yorktown citizens were walking around with baskets of flowers and stands covered in decorative garbs. ¡°People have been preparing for it. Hell, I even had a meeting about it yesterday.¡±

    ¡°Damn. I¡¯ve been so focused on the brewing that I must¡¯ve missed it,¡± Bjorn muttered. James felt a pang of guilt at hearing that. The young clan leader had pushed the dwarf to churn out the barrels soon, specifically, before the festivities began. Bjorn was even developing dark bags under his eyes, his face pale and his beard frayed at the ends. James didn¡¯t think it would push him so far.

    ¡°If you want, we could save the barrels for the festival,¡± James offered. ¡°Relax a bit and enjoy ourselves.¡±

    Bjorn shook his head. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine. We need to get this business started as soon as possible.¡± He grinned. ¡°Besides, when¡¯s a better time to sell than midommar? Drunks will pay valdoras for this stuff, just you see.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t wait.¡± James returned the gesture.

    ¡°James!¡±

    The blond man turned to the sound of his name, his eyebrow raising at the sight of Dahlia. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the orcs,¡± she answered once she got close enough for privacy.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me, Horuk?¡± James asked.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± The shaman sighed. ¡°Of course, he only wants to talk to you, although I basically already run half this town.¡±

    ¡°Dammit,¡± James cursed. He knew it was far from a simple problem. Ever since Horuk and his orcs came to the island, they had been arguing.

    James had given them the northern side of the island, an isolated beach and fresh woods not too far from Harald¡¯s old hut. There they had built and reformed their old camp, using the fresh game around the island to feed themselves and the resources to build. For the first couple of weeks, they were fine. However, problems arose when the orcs grew bored with hunting wolves and deer.

    Horuk wanted to hunt down beasts with his orcs. James had initially been fine with it until he realized it meant the orcs were going to head into foreign territory to hunt their prey. He had to carefully explain why it was a bad idea to potentially go into conflict with other clans. The problem was solved when James allowed Horuk and his orcs to hunt their prey anywhere south and east of the island, away from any territorial waters.

    James had tried to keep them busy, mainly by having them go on long hunts and going on bandit patrol. Yet even that was reaching its limit. To talk with the orc would take a significant amount of his day. James turned to Bjorn, who awaited curiously. The beer needed to be taken to Vindis today. Taking it tomorrow would cut it too short. As James contemplated delaying the business run, his eyes caught a couple of guards walking past. An idea clicked in his head.

    ¡°Seamus!¡± James called out to the young man, who instantly tensed up at his voice. Seamus turned around to meet James, a look of uncertainty on his face. ¡°Do you mind doing me a favor?¡± James asked as he stepped up to the young man.

    ¡°I hope it doesn¡¯t involve the festival. I¡¯m already tired enough to help prepare for it.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not that. Well, not exactly,¡± James admitted. ¡°Bjorn needs to deliver the alcohol to the Thieves Guild. I have to deal with Horuk and the orcs.¡±

    Seamus narrowed his gaze. ¡°Can¡¯t Dahlia go in my stead? I have guard duty to fulfill.¡±

    ¡°I need to help set up the rest of the festivities,¡± the shaman immediately spoke up.

    ¡°What about Harald? Or Helen?¡±

    ¡°Both are going to work on security,¡± James revealed.

    ¡°Haggard?¡±

    ¡°Do you really think he¡¯ll be able to pull it off?¡± James asked. ¡°Markov is familiar with you. He¡¯ll know you¡¯re my trusted emissary. Everyone else¡­¡± The blond man shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest. I don¡¯t really trust them to not fuck it up somehow.¡±

    Seamus sighed in response to James¡¯ words. The young man seemed to ponder the offer for a moment, his fingers rubbing at his chin. He looked at Kate, who only crossed her arms.

    ¡°Go for it. Guard duty is almost over anyway.¡±

    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll go.¡± Seamus sighed.

    ¡°Thanks.¡± James grinned as he dug into his coin pouch. He brought out a valdora coin and some silver. ¡°Here, for the gate and a room. Just in case you might need to stay overnight there.¡±

    Seamus took the coins gingerly, tucking them into his own pouch. ¡°You owe me one,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°You have no idea. You¡¯re a lifesaver, Seamus.¡± James commented as he turned around. With that, the young clan leader left the harbor, heading his way to the outskirts of the town, where the woods met with the walls.

    <hr>

    Gwenyth stepped into the new base of operations, her eyes scanning the interior. This one was much more spacious than that hideout the witch had used. Much less crowded and the open courtyard gave it some more flexibility.

    ¡°What is this place?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Used to be the town hall back when this city was but a few ships strapped together with rope and bridges,¡± Lydia explained.

    ¡°This is where Arthur¡¯s been for the past couple of days?¡± The elf guessed. She had been out of the loop for a while now, ever since she was tasked with scouting duty for the week. She knew their base was moved, but wasn¡¯t told where until today.

    ¡°He needed the space. Said that the Touka was too exposed,¡± Lydia revealed.

    ¡°Finally, something I can agree with him on.¡± Gwenyth chuckled as she stepped into the courtyard, where William fiddled with a spell circle. It looked like the herald was trying to adjust the communications totem, which was vital to establishing contact with the Lumen Kingdom. ¡°Did we make contact with the council?¡± The elf pointed out the totem.

    William raised his head in surprise. ¡°Yeah, Arthur made contact some time ago.¡±

    ¡°What for?¡± Gwenyth prodded. This wasn¡¯t something anyone could just casually do. Setting up communications was akin to casting a flare spell in the middle of Valenfrost. It required protection spells and enchantments. Even then, sending a message could very well catch the ire of nearby Wizards or scryers. Whatever reason Arthur had for setting up this totem, it had to be vital.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    ¡°I needed to update the Wizard on our situation,¡± Arthur¡¯s voice called out from behind. Gwenyth turned around to meet the former apostle who had just walked into the courtyard.

    ¡°An update? What is there to update about? We still haven¡¯t found the source.¡±

    ¡°We have a name and general location,¡± Arthur answered. ¡°James Holter. Mid-twenties. His clan, White Raven, has been sighted in Vindis and other nearby islands. Judging from the rumors and sightings, he¡¯s hiding somewhere around the southern edge of Valenfrost.¡±

    ¡°I already know this,¡± Gwenyth furrowed her brow. ¡°Telling Alfred isn¡¯t going to do anything but paint an accuser to this calamity. The source of the break is still unknown, and until we find out where it is, we cannot risk exposure.¡± Her words carried a sense of weight in them. If Lumen spies were found within Valenfrost, war could break out. It was a possibility that Gwenyth wanted to avoid, to steer clear of. If another conflict broke out, millions of lives were at stake.

    Arthur sighed. ¡°I apologize,¡± he muttered. The elf blinked in surprise. She wasn¡¯t sure if she heard the man right.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Arthur stated once more. ¡°I wanted to inform Alfred of our progress, to make sure that he didn¡¯t believe us to be dead. I should have waited for you to return before I did so. I¡¯m sorry.¡± His words struck the elf like a splash of cold water. She didn¡¯t know how to respond, as the former apostle never did anything close to empathy in the entire time she knew him.

    ¡°I¡­ I accept?¡± She managed.

    Arthur let out a sigh of relief. ¡°Good to get that off my chest. Now let¡¯s discuss what you brought for us.¡± As if nothing had happened, Arthur walked off into the building. Gwenyth stared for a moment before she shook her head in disbelief.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± she murmured as she followed behind.

    ¡°How was scouting?¡± Arthur asked.

    ¡°Miserable like usual. It¡¯s hard not to get caught up in the filth of this city. At least Eilif seemed to enjoy himself.¡± Gwenyth recalled the immortal man who had been in his element the entire time. While the elf had to disguise herself the entire time and make sure her story stuck, the bounty hunter had kept himself in the shadows, sneaking between alleyways and watching.

    ¡°Where is he?¡±

    ¡°Currently? Following a lead.¡±

    The lead she was talking about was the strange blind man she spotted during her scouting. He was young and looked homeless. Normally, she would disregard bums, but this man felt strange. There was a sense of familiarity in his blinded gaze and an aura about him. Gwenyth had sent Eilif to tail him and report on his findings. She would¡¯ve gone herself, but she was busy tailing a well-known thief.

    ¡°Did you find anything new?¡±

    ¡°Other than the dealings with the Thieves Guild and the clan? Nothing.¡± While James had already visited the city a couple times this past month, there wasn¡¯t much to conclude that he was doing anything insidious. In fact, it looked like the man was simply doing regular business with traders and merchants. The Thieves Guild and him were connected, but it didn¡¯t look like they were buddy-buddy.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we confront him now?¡± Gwenyth asked suddenly. ¡°We¡¯ve been constantly watching and examining, yet you made no attempt to talk or take action.¡±

    The elf had been wanting to discuss this for the longest time. While she could see the use of watching and making plans, there was no reason for Arthur to prolong action for a month.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that simple.¡± Arthur said. ¡°Until we figure out how deep his influence really goes, then we can¡ª¡±

    ¡°Kill him?¡± Gwenyth cut him off. ¡°You might as well do it quickly. Get it all over with.¡± She made sure to let Arthur know her disagreement. ¡°Unless, of course, you¡¯re having second thoughts, like any sane person.¡±

    ¡°There is a process.¡± Arthur stopped his walk and turned to the elf. ¡°If his reach goes to other clans, that complicates things.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°We should not confront him blindly without understanding the consequences. Until we get a clear view of his influence, we cannot enact action.¡±

    Gwenyth stared at him before she realized what the man was talking about. ¡°You can¡¯t kill him if he¡¯s allied with other clans. Nor can you arrest him. It¡¯ll bring their wrath if they find out.¡±

    Arthur nodded at her response. ¡°The last thing we need is every clan in Valenfrost turned against the Lumen Kingdom.¡±

    ¡°But how do you plan to seal this source if the only person who knows its location cannot be interrogated?¡±

    ¡°Simple. We tail him. When he returns to the city, you will follow behind.¡± Arthur gestured to the spell crystal that hung on Gwenyth¡¯s neck.

    ¡°When you find where he lives, contact us. Lydia will scry your location and we¡¯ll get a good idea where the source is.¡±

    <hr>

    James took his breath as he finally arrived at the orc camp. He needed to build his stamina some more, the runs during training obviously not doing it for him anymore. The jog from the harbor to the camp was a brutal one. James had to go up steep inclines and run down rocky paths, making sure not to fall down on the way. While he had trouble with it all, Dahlia simply traversed it all like it was natural. The shaman didn¡¯t even break a sweat the entire way, her short raven black hair still flowing naturally in the wind while James¡¯ was soaked in sweat.

    ¡°You need to run more.¡± Dahlia chuckled playfully.

    ¡°Oh, fuck off¡­¡± James panted out. He still smiled, though, as he couldn¡¯t really be upset with her. He took a few more breaths of the cool air before finally standing up straight. James focused on the camp ahead, which had orcs traversing to and from. Most were setting up their bonfires, their large cauldrons filled to the brim with boiling water.

    ¡°I guess they¡¯re preparing dinner,¡± James pointed out as he began his walk to the camp.

    ¡°Silas should be in the main tent with Horuk.¡± Dahlia pointed out the large tent, which situated itself at the center of the camp. As the two made their way to the tent, they passed by the newly hired orcs. Almost all of them turned their focus on the pair, their expression a mix between surprise and joy. James was caught off-guard at their sudden mood. He was led to believe that these orcs were upset with him.

    ¡°Draugr!¡± One called out. The orc carried a huge silverhead fish, his firm hands keeping the feisty claws still. ¡°Are you going to stay with us for tonight¡¯s feast?¡±

    ¡°Feast?¡± James asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t Midsommar tomorrow?¡±

    The orc shook his head. ¡°We don¡¯t celebrate that here. Our traditions are different.¡±

    ¡°Different?¡± Before James could prod some more, another voice spoke up.

    ¡°We orcs celebrate our ancestors, specifically the ones that came from the southern continent.¡± It was Silas who explained it. The orc leader wore a garb made of animal hides and bones, his hair braided and neatly placed on his shoulder. He was accompanied by Horuk who wore something similar.

    ¡°I never knew about this,¡± James commented.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t common knowledge and we like to keep it that way,¡± Horuk explained. ¡°It is an orc-exclusive celebration, but we decided that perhaps we should have a certain human join us.¡± The orc pointed to James, who stood awkwardly.

    ¡°You called me here to feast with you guys?¡± James asked. It was a strange way of getting his attention but he couldn¡¯t help but feel touched at the orc¡¯s generosity.

    ¡°Silas vouched for you. Rightfully so, too. We may have had our differences with the location and all, but I am glad to call myself an ally of yours.¡± Horuk grinned as he pulled out a rucksack made of animal hide. It clanged and clamored as he set it on the ground.

    ¡°What is that?¡±

    ¡°A gift. To celebrate our alliance.¡±

    James stepped up to the rucksack, his hand reaching down to untie it. He pulled at the twine and rope that held it together, watching as it loosened up to reveal the glint of steel. James slowly opened it, his eyes widening at the sight of steel plate and black fur. He picked up the breastplate, which shone beautifully in the campfire. The cuirass was in two parts, making it so that it was easier to move in. Fur was lined at the collar and shoulders, hanging off in the back and shoulders. As a whole, the torso piece was crude and looked like a mix between barbarian and knight armor.

    The gauntlets looked to be made of the same quality, their steel mixed with thick gambeson. Fur also lined the wrists. The left gauntlet looked more exposed than the right, its palm lacking any protection. James could guess what it was for. The boots were made of hide and fur, but after feeling them, James soon found out that they had steel toe embedded.

    ¡°We got the idea from your Earth boots,¡± Dahlia pointed out.

    ¡°You knew about this?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Call it a late birthday gift,¡± the shaman responded with a smile. ¡°Put it on, see if it fits.¡± James stood up, his hands unclasping the cloak he wore over his tunic and breeches. He fitted the armor piece by piece, Dahlia assisting in the hard to reach places. In the end, James was wearing steel plate armor over his chest and forearms, his shoulders and boots covered in gambeson and fur.

    It was partial, not entirely protecting his body, but that was the point. He could still move well without problem and he felt even more protected.

    ¡°Looking like a true Jarl!¡± Horuk guffawed.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say,¡± James awkwardly admitted. Truth be told, he was overflowing with excitement and joy, like a child on Christmas morning. As he examined the steel, James noted the runes etched into the edges of the armor. They were lifeless, however, devoid of any magic.

    ¡°What is this?¡± he asked.

    ¡°We were going to get Falrick to enchant them, but he needed some materials first. We¡¯ll get it done tomorrow morning,¡± Dahlia revealed.

    ¡°When did you have to make this? How did you guys make this?¡± James asked.

    ¡°That knight from last Frost, Gryff, had some good steel on him,¡± Silas began. ¡°It would have been a shame to waste it, even with its damage. So we reforged it.¡± He gestured to himself and Horuk.

    The other orc chuckled. ¡°I have some experience smithing and forging, but even this was a challenge. I usually don¡¯t make armor for humans.¡±

    ¡°This is Gryff¡¯s?¡± James asked. It was a strange and morbid thought. This very gift was from the only man he had ever killed. He felt his left arm tingle at the memory. The smell of burnt flesh and unbearable cold. The blazing eye sockets. James shook his head and blinked. This wasn¡¯t the time to think about it.

    ¡°As for the fur, that was the shaman¡¯s touch. Wolf fur, taken from the beasts that live on the island,¡± Horuk mentioned. James touched at the black fur, his hand feeling through the pelt. It brought a strange sense of nostalgia to the blond man, reminding him of his brush with dire wolves during his first week in Valenfrost.

    ¡°There¡¯s more.¡± Dahlia reached in the rucksack and brought out a sheathed blade, its guard and hilt was embroidered with carvings not unlike her ornamental dagger. James cautiously took it, his eyes examining the custom work done on it.

    ¡°Rockford made this one. Took some coin and convincing, but he pulled through quickly,¡± the shaman explained.

    James unsheathed the sword, its steel blade and guard shining with runic engravings. Like the armor, it wasn¡¯t enhanced with magic, but the blond man soon found out that most of it wasn¡¯t for enchantment. He had learned enough to understand ¡®godspeak¡¯ at the minimal level. While he couldn¡¯t read it all, he could catch the phrases ¡®draugr¡¯ and ¡®frost¡¯.

    With the sword and armor, James kitted out for battle. Not alleyway skirmishes, no, but full-fledged battle.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t a full set, but we plan to complete it when the money comes in,¡± Silas spoke up.

    James waved him off. ¡°There¡¯s no need. It¡¯s perfect.¡± While clearly homemade, James loved every bit of this set. During his entire time in Valenfrost, his armor had been a matter of gear foraged from armories and past battles. Gambeson, shoddy mail, partial leather armor. It had all been passed down and ruined by battle and time. Even his trusty short sword was a battle trophy from the marauders.

    For the first time, he had something to call his own.

    ¡°Good! Then let us begin on the feast! We are cooking tasty leviathan for dinner!¡± Horuk exclaimed. As the orcs went off to prepare their feast, James felt Dahlia tug at his arm. The blond man didn¡¯t hesitate to walk off to speak with her.

    ¡°Pretty sneaky of you, planning this behind my back,¡± James chuckled.

    Dahlia smiled brightly, her hand brushing a short lock of hair away from her eyes. ¡°Believe me, it was harder to keep Horuk¡¯s mouth shut about the whole thing. How do you like your new armor?¡±

    ¡°I love it. Much warmer than my old gambeson and much more snug.¡± James flexed his body to show it off. ¡°I can¡¯t thank you enough for this.¡±

    ¡°You can thank me another time,¡± Dahlia laughed. ¡°Right now, let us enjoy ourselves. No town problems, no business stress, none of that.¡± She gestured to the orcs, who were all setting up the long table for their large feast.

    ¡°I¡¯d like that,¡± James breathed out in relief, a smile forming on his lips as he grabbed Dahlia¡¯s hand.

    With that, the Jarl and the shaman celebrated with the orcs, cementing their new alliance and prosperous future.

    <hr>

    ¡°Update?¡±

    ¡°The city is ripe.¡± Eli¡¯s voice muttered from the corner of the room. Gustus watched from his seat, his hands currently sharpening the sword he kept on him. ¡°Only two Wizards occupy the city at the moment. One is currently handling the totems around the city, making sure they stay connected. The other is a simple bum in the silver district. Too weak and na?ve to worry about.¡±

    ¡°Good. What of the Lumen spies you¡¯ve spotted earlier?¡±

    ¡°Not important. In fact, they seem keen on turning the other way.¡±

    ¡°Is that so?¡±

    ¡°At worst, they¡¯re annoyances. I doubt they¡¯d risk exposing themselves here just to stop you.¡±

    ¡°Good. The marauders at the Outpost Trig and Orestead are prepared. When will you be ready?¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow. Midsommar will be the one time where everyone here will lower their defenses. Once I get everything set up, I shall contact you.¡±

    Gustus turned back to his weapon, which was now sharp enough to even cut through the thick air. He recalled the other night when Eli confronted that strange man in the mask. Hostile at first, the man in goggles assured Eli that he was a friend. It was strange to witness both men discuss and talk, leaving Gustus in the dark about it all. He wondered if he should tell Deimos about it, since Eli had opted to leave the strange man out of his report. The man in goggles had informed Eli where to strike and where to set up his spell circle. The insane part of it all, was the fact that the spellcaster agreed so quickly.

    ¡®Just what the hel is happening?¡¯ Gustus thought to himself.

    ¡°Gustus.¡± Eli suddenly called out.

    The marauder tensed up. ¡°Yes, Eli?¡±

    ¡°Prepare yourself for another patrol. We have a Wizard to visit.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 39: Thieves and Merchants

    Gwenyth stifled a yawn, her left arm moving to cover her mouth. She had been up all night, watching the tavern from nightfall to early dawn. Nothing interesting had happened since, and she was feeling like her time was being wasted. The reason for her stakeout was because of the young man she had tailed from the harbor. It wasn¡¯t James Holter, but an ally of his. The man came on the same ship as him, and his cloak bore the symbol of the white raven. Still, Gwenyth recalled the bear pin she spotted on his scarf.

    At first, the elf questioned if he was a Halvorson survivor, but soon stopped pondering on it. It wouldn¡¯t do her any good to focus on a dead clan when she had Holter to look out for. The young man had come in with a dwarf, both of whom made their way to the tavern. They had been there all day yesterday, opting only to drink and wait. All she needed was for them to go back to their town, to lead her back to their home base.

    Gwenyth turned her gaze to the clouded sky, which had slowly begun to brighten. The day was starting. Soon, she will get her answer as to why they were here.

    <hr>

    Seamus rotated his shoulder as he stepped out into the street. Despite the clouds covering the sun, its light still temporarily blinded him. ¡°Are you sure the barrels are safe back at the harbor?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Believe me, rolling two barrels of alcohol in these parts is practically us begging to be mugged,¡± Bjorn answered with a yawn. The dwarf rubbed at his eyepatch, his lone eye glancing at the busy street of Vindis.

    ¡°Are you sure this is where we¡¯re supposed to meet up with them?¡± Seamus questioned as he leaned against a nearby lamp pole.

    The duo had come to Vindis the previous day, arriving at the harbor late at night because of the weather. They spent the night at the tavern in hopes that their thief contact would come to meet them. No one had come, and Seamus and Bjorn had to spend the night in the tavern.

    ¡°Last time I was here, James contacted them,¡± Bjorn started, his hand shifting the wrapped backpack he had on. ¡°They¡¯re the ones who decided on this spot.¡±

    Seamus looked up at the tavern¡¯s sign. The ¡®Drunken Draugr¡¯ was the go-to meeting spot and tavern for James and Haggard. It was also apparently the go-to place for thieves and crooks to exchange and drink together. Seamus disliked the vibes he got from this place, but he couldn¡¯t really complain. The rooms were cheap, and the food was even cheaper. Albeit moldy and stale. Still cheap though.

    As Seamus contemplated their place of meeting, a hooded man bumped into him. Before the young man could instinctually reach for his pouch to check if it was still there, the man whispered something.

    ¡°Follow. Don¡¯t make it obvious.¡±

    Seamus stopped dead and glanced at the hooded figure. The man did not look back, instead opting to continue forward with his walk.

    ¡°You alright, kid?¡± Bjorn asked suddenly.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Follow me,¡± Seamus muttered as he slowly began to trail the hooded man. The dwarf raised an eyebrow, his expression turning to confusion. Still, he followed behind the young man, keeping close.

    Seamus made sure to keep his distance, his eyes glancing around at his surroundings. He needed to make sure no one was trailing him. The young man followed for a while, keeping his pace normal as he hid amongst the crowd. His eyes were focused on the hooded man, who slipped seamlessly into the crowded streets. Before long, the hooded man went into a nearby building. It was a shop, its banner showcasing the valdora coin. That emblem showcased that the owner of this building was part of the Merchant¡¯s Guild, an organization whose members apparently spread across Azura. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for someone in Vindis to be a part of the guild. Hel, half the traders in the marketplace were associated with the Merchant¡¯s Guild.

    Still, Seamus had a feeling that this shop had more than met the eye. The young man waited for a few seconds before he, too, entered the shop. As he and Bjorn passed through the door, Seamus felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle with notice. His natural radar had gone off for a moment. That didn¡¯t happen unless he was in the radius of a potential threat or stalker. Seamus turned around and peeked out the window of the shop. He scanned the crowd outside, hoping to find the person responsible for alerting him. Nothing interesting caught his gaze, however.

    ¡°Hey! You!¡± A voice called out from behind him. Seamus moved his focus to the shop¡¯s interior. There was a portly man behind a counter, his brow furrowed at the duo. ¡°Are you here to buy or window shop? If it¡¯s the latter, then get the hel out. You can continue snooping outside.¡±

    ¡°If I¡¯m being honest, he dragged here me,¡± Bjorn muttered as he gestured to Seamus.

    ¡°There was a man who came in here,¡± the young man explained. ¡°He told me to come here?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s with me, Alf.¡± Another voice spoke up. It was the hooded man, his figure stepping out from the backroom.

    ¡°Oh, so you¡¯re James?¡± The shopkeeper asked. ¡°Funny, I thought he¡¯d be taller¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not him,¡± the hooded man revealed. ¡°He¡¯s apparently too good to do business personally.¡±

    ¡°He had other business to attend to,¡± Seamus explained as he stepped up. ¡°I¡¯m here in his stead.¡± The stranger raised an eyebrow, but didn¡¯t comment as he turned around. He waved them on, prompting the two men to follow behind. They all went into the backroom, past the counter. Seamus glanced around, frowning a little. It looked just like any old, mundane storage room.

    ¡°Hey, a hand here,¡± the stranger called out. He was right next to the wall, his hand on the barrels. Seamus stepped forward, helping the man out by pulling the barrels away from the wall. Once that was done, the hooded man approached the wall. He knocked on the wall, his strikes ringing hollow. There was a moment of silence before the wall shifted and moved. Seamus watched as a torch lit hallway was revealed. There was another hooded figure there, wearing the same cloak as the first stranger.

    ¡°Follow us.¡±

    <hr>

    Gwenyth cursed to herself as she jogged through the alleyway. She needed to find out where the two men were going. After losing sight of them in the shop, the elf knew she had to figure out their destination. She would¡¯ve had an easier time had it not been for that young man¡¯s alert skill, which nearly outed her.

    ¡®How does someone that young have a skill like that? Nevermind¡­ I need to find out where they¡¯re heading and fast.¡¯

    The elf formed a rune with her hands; her focus going into a casting she kept in her back pocket.

    ¡°Enhance Sense,¡± she uttered under her breath. Her body reacted to the words in haste. Gwenyth could feel her eyes and ears burn with magical ability, the taste of fruit making itself present on her tongue. The elf stopped her jog, her eyes closing. She listened carefully, focusing on the other side of the wall. The sounds of footsteps made themselves present, as well as the muffle voices of the young man and dwarf.

    ¡°What is this?¡±

    ¡°Passageway to the guild. You¡¯ll be having your meeting with Markov soon.¡±

    ¡°Markov? He¡¯s interested enough to meet us?¡±

    ¡°Best you keep yourself from talking. There was someone trailing you earlier. It was why I had to meet you in the shop.¡±

    ¡°There was someone following?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and I¡¯m not entirely sure we lost them, so keep quiet until we get confirmation we¡¯re safe.¡±

    Gwenyth opened her eyes, her gaze moving to her surroundings. No one was visible, but she couldn¡¯t take the chance. The elf formed her fingers once more, casting two spells in succession.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°Nimble Feet, Shadow Step.¡±

    Her body grew hot and the prosthetic on her arm vibrated as the castings made their appearance. Gwenyth pressed herself against the alley, feeling as the world around her grew dark. Shadow Step had the downside of lowering her field of view and range, but it was enough to keep her hidden from any prying eyes. The elf followed the sounds of the footsteps, hiding in the shadows.

    The footsteps of the men continue on for a while, traveling past busy streets and abandoned sectors of the city. The elf continued to follow, all while keeping to the shadows and continuously casting her spells to keep Shadow Step on. Finally, they stopped somewhere unexpected. Gwenyth stared at the building the men arrived at. It was the Merchant¡¯s Guild¡¯s official building of commerce.

    ¡®What the hel are they doing here¡­?¡¯

    Was all she could think. Where she expected a hideout in the slums or iron district, she had instead followed the thieves to a guild building in the valdora district.

    ¡°We¡¯re here.¡±

    The voice of one of the hooded men caught her attention.

    ¡°Can we speak now?¡±

    ¡°Yes. We have confirmation from our men that the stalker is nowhere nearby. Safe to say they gave up at the shop.¡±

    ¡°Where is Markov?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll take you to him. He¡¯s waiting.¡±

    Gwenyth hurried to the guild building, her hands casting Shadow Step one more time. Her castings were running low, but it didn¡¯t matter. All she needed to do was get close. The elf snuck into the building, quietly making it past guards and members. She crept into the basement, where she was sure she was going to find a secret entrance. Yet the elf found nothing but crates and barrels. She focused her senses once more, listening for the hums of magical runes. Silence. Gwenyth looked around, trying to find anything out of the place. Her eyes focused on a banner of the guild. She stepped up to it, her hands lifting the cloth. Nothing but a wall.

    Still, something was catching her ears. The elf closed her eyes, focusing once more. It was the sound of wind. She leaned closer to the wall, holding her breath. There it was. The sound of air escaping from a crack in the wall. The elf opened her eyes, her hands moving to find the crack. There it was. All she needed to do was open it. Thankfully, she had just the tool. Gwenyth shifted her left prosthetic, her hand moving to grip onto the small crack in the wall. The elf pulled with all her strength, forcing her left arm to exert itself. She could feel the ley lines in her body react to the sudden burst of strength, her prosthetic shaking as it forced the door open.

    The wall creaked as it slid, the sound thankfully not catching the attention of anyone. The elf only managed to open it to a certain point, but it was enough for her to slip past. Gwenyth slipped on her cloak as she snuck into the secret passage, her hands casting Shadow Step again.

    ¡®Ten castings left.¡¯

    She counted mentally as she slipped through the dark tunnel and into the branching paths. If it wasn¡¯t for her enhanced hearing, the elf would have been lost ages ago.

    Gwenyth followed the grounds of the voices, pinpointing where the two men were. She snuck past men and women in the tunnels, almost all of them wearing the same green cloaks. Thankfully, none of them seemed to notice the cold breeze that rushed past them. Perhaps it was common in this place. In the end, the elf made it to a large and open room. There she saw the two men she was initially following, as well as an older fellow. This man had his hood pulled back, showcasing his scarred face and graying hair.

    Gwenyth situated herself in a hiding spot above them, making sure she would not get spotted by any prying eyes.

    ¡°Seamus and Bjorn, funny seeing you two together. Where is James?¡±

    ¡°James is tending to other things,¡± the young man named Seamus explained.

    ¡°Well, it can¡¯t be helped,¡± the old man sighed. ¡°Where are the barrels? I thought you were here to sell us alcohol?¡±

    ¡°The kegs are back on our ship. We¡¯re not risking them in this part of the city,¡± Bjorn revealed. ¡°I have this right here, for sampling.¡± The dwarf slung off his wrapped up backpack, his hands undoing the ties that kept the cloth on.

    It was a miniature keg, about a third the size of a real one. Gwenyth raised an eyebrow at the sight of the strange item. It even had a spigot. The old man examined the keg, his fingers snapping at one of his men. They hurried over with a tankard, handing it off to him. The old man held it out to the keg, his hand opening the spigot. Golden liquid poured out into the cup, splashing a little.

    The old man closed the spigot before it could fully fill up his cup. He brought up the tankard to his lip and took a swig of the alcohol, his face scrunching into an interesting expression.

    ¡°This is¡­ strangely good?¡± The old man muttered. ¡°It tastes off-putting, but it¡¯s actually pretty strong.¡± The old man reached again to refill his cup.

    As he drank, the dwarf laughed. ¡°Not bad, eh? Could be better, but James wanted to ¡®water¡¯ it down.¡±

    ¡°How many barrels do you have of this stuff?¡± The old man asked.

    ¡°Two of that and one of straight liquor.¡± Bjorn answered.

    ¡°Do you have the liquor available?¡±

    ¡°Sure do.¡± The dwarf reached for his waterskin, handing over to the older man. The elder uncapped it and poured the concoction onto his tankard. He took another sip.

    ¡°Freyja¡¯s tits, that¡¯s good!¡± the old man exclaimed. ¡°Being part-dwarf, most beers and liquors usually taste like piss. But this¡­ this is good! How much do you want for it?¡±

    Seamus rubbed his chin in thought. ¡°Well, since each barrel costs us six gold to produce, plus transportation and supply, I believe it¡¯s fair to sell it for¡ª¡±

    ¡°Sixty gold for all three!¡± Bjorn interrupted Seamus mid-sentence. ¡°Or thirty valdoras. Either form of payment is acceptable.¡± His shouts caused a tense silence in the room. The old man stared at the dwarf. Seamus looked pale, his hands clenching onto the table. Even the surrounding men looked shocked.

    Finally, the old man sat up. He drank the rest of his tankard before slamming it down. ¡°Thirty gold. Your beer and liquor is good, but it isn¡¯t sixty gold good.¡±

    ¡°Forty gold,¡± Bjorn bargained.

    ¡°Thirty,¡± the old man growled.

    Bjorn leaned in. ¡°Thirty-six and a cut from the profits.¡±

    ¡°Are you trying to piss me off?¡±

    ¡°Midsommar is today. I know you guys have taverns all over the city. Drunks are willing to pay top coin for the stuff that¡¯ll get them the most fucked up,¡± Bjorn explained. ¡°You and I both know that people will pay valdoras for just half a barrel.¡± That seemed to make the old man think. For a moment, they all stayed quiet.

    ¡°Thirty-three and you get a portion of the profits,¡± the old man finally muttered. He extended his hand to Bjorn, who stared at the man.

    ¡°Deal.¡± The dwarf grinned, his hand moving to shake the old man¡¯s.

    ¡°Johan!¡± the old man called out. ¡°Grab the coins from the safe box and go with these two. They¡¯ll lead you to the barrels.¡±

    ¡°Yes Markov, sir!¡±

    ¡®Markov. The leader of the Thieves Guild,¡¯ Gwenyth thought to herself as she watched the old man stand.

    Markov grabbed at the mini-keg. ¡°I¡¯m keeping this.¡±

    ¡°Go ahead, think of it as a bonus,¡± Bjorn guffawed. Before long, Seamus and Bjorn left the room with Johan. Gwenyth cast Shadow Step and followed behind.

    <hr>

    The light of the morning sun shone itself onto the table that held the map of Vindis. Deimos looked down at the drawn tactics and red markings.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need more men for this,¡± Ivana muttered.

    ¡°Cecil has already taken care of that.¡± Deimos answered. The chieftain had ordered the elf to gather up raiders and bandit groups for this raid. Cecil had done it before, back during the Halvorson raid.

    ¡°I mean trusted men. No bandits or pirates,¡± Ivana reiterated. ¡°This city is convoluted and winding. One could easily get lost.¡±

    ¡°I see your plight, but we are not fighting against another clan or army,¡± Deimos tapped at the center of the map. ¡°It is a cesspool of criminals and corrupted men. The only thing that forms a resistance is the Thieves Guild and even then, they won¡¯t be much against us.¡±

    ¡°What about a clan response? Vindis still has its alarm system in place,¡± Ivana pointed out.

    ¡°Eli is currently taking care of that while we speak.¡± Deimos waved off.

    The spellcaster had been preparing for an event like this for a while. Ever since the Halvorson raid, Eli had become confident in his ability.

    ¡°Will he be able to silence a city so big?¡± Ivana asked.

    ¡°Despite its size, Vindis is surprisingly weak,¡± Deimos started. ¡°When the ley line totems are disabled and Eli draws his spell circle, there will be no way to contact the other clans.¡± Deimos revealed.

    ¡°I see,¡± Ivana muttered. She rubbed at her chin, her gaze focused on the map. It detailed squad movements and marauder groups. The red markings on the parchment specifically targeted key locations. If the marauders could capture and hold them, the city would be in their palm. This included harbors, guild buildings, and safe houses for the rich. The marauders in Orestead would already be enough to take them over, but with help from the hired raiders and bandits, their victory would be absolute. That is, if Eli could get his side of the plan done.

    ¡°Gear up, Ivana,¡± Deimos said. ¡°We¡¯ll have to prepare in the meantime.¡± They still had to take care of any roaming ships that could come to the vicinity of Vindis. It was Midsommar, so that chance was low, but Deimos didn¡¯t want to risk it. The chieftain didn¡¯t get this far being cocky. Ivana nodded and headed out of the tent, her voice calling to the marauders in the camp.

    ¡°Everyone! Get ready! We¡¯re heading out now!¡±

 B.3 Chapter 40: Reckoning

    Harald stared at the sign before him. He was preparing to enter the training center, to get in a couple of lessons with the trainees. Yet here he was, staring at the sign Elaine had posted outside.

    The Siege of Yorktown: The Mysterious Veteran from Lumen!

    Harald regretted talking with Elaine the week before. The bard had come to him, asking about his past and his contribution to the Siege last year. He, of course, refused to answer any of the questions regarding his past, only opting to give vague details about his battle with the marauders. Yet it seemed like that did nothing but give Elaine a different direction in her plays. The veteran should have instead told her a false, boring lie that would¡¯ve exempted him from any of this. He sighed regretfully.

    As Harald debated about tearing it down, he heard the bolstering laugh of a certain blonde woman.

    ¡°HAHAHAHA!¡± Helen was doubled over, her arms holding her stomach as she cried out in laughter. The veteran narrowed his gaze at her. ¡°Oh, this is priceless!! I cannot wait to watch your ¡®heroics¡¯ play out!¡±

    ¡°You know that this involves you, right?¡± Harald pointed out. The ex-marauder stopped dead in her tracks. Helen was, in fact, a vital part in that fight. That was where Harald and she met for the first time.

    ¡°Ah shit¡­¡± she suddenly muttered. Harald himself chuckled as realization dawned on her.

    ¡°Hope they chose a stunning actress to play you,¡± Harald commented as he walked into the training center.

    As he left the fellow veteran to stew in her silent shock, Harald headed for the usual meeting spot. As usual, his trainees and guardsmen awaited him. There was some new blood among them, a result of the past couple months of growth. The White Raven clan had grown enough to merge with the town¡¯s council. Now, Yorktown¡¯s guardsmen were ravens in their own right. As soldiers or guards, Harald will find out in time.

    ¡°Alright, this session will be shorter.¡± Harald started, his hands moving behind his back. ¡°Midsommar is today and you all will probably want to spend the time with your families and friends. Not only that, but the bard will have her play here later today.¡± That earned a couple of chuckles and stifled giggles. They had all seen the poster outside. Harald ignored them and continued.

    ¡°As expected, it looks like James, Seamus, Dahlia, and Felix aren¡¯t here,¡± he sighed. Harald was beginning to think that his initial students weren¡¯t ever going to show up. Then again, they had their duties to fulfill. Felix was the captain of the guardsmen and had to tend to domestic matters and council duty. Seamus was busy with the growth and rebuilding of the town, his absence for today being that of unfortunate timing. Dahlia was also helping keep relations with the clan and its people steady. She had been pushing herself to complete deadlines and keep the residents of New Aldren happy.

    James was¡­ well, James. The otherworldly man hadn¡¯t been in training for a couple of weeks, his attention solely on the needs of his clan and the town. Harald had stopped punishing James for missing training, mainly from the weight of the man¡¯s responsibilities. It was already enough that he had to run an entire clan whilst on a literal deadline. The veteran looked to his trainees, all of whom were dreading to hear the order to run laps.

    Harald sighed. ¡°Kate, Dirk, Elizabeth, and Harris,¡± he called out to the squad leaders. They were chosen as such months back, around the Bloom solstice. They had all been there since the beginning and had proven to be competent guardsmen. ¡°Grab your squads and pick up where we left off yesterday. Formation tactics and defense,¡± he ordered. The trainees all blinked in surprise. They all stared at Harald, who furrowed his brow. ¡°What are you all waiting for? Get on with it!¡±

    With that, they all scrambled to the weapon racks, each of them grabbing wooden swords and dummy spears. Harald watched from the sidelines, examining as they practiced squad tactics.

    ¡°No laps?¡± Helen suddenly spoke up from behind. She was by his side, watching the trainees with crossed arms.

    ¡°It¡¯s pointless,¡± Harald muttered. ¡°No matter what I do, they won¡¯t ever be on time nor show up when I want them to.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll show up on time one day,¡± Helen commented. ¡°Things are a little hectic right now, what with all the shit we¡¯ve been through.¡± The female veteran raised her left hand, wiggling her finger nubs.

    ¡°That¡¯s exactly why they should show up,¡± Harald responded. ¡°No one will ever know when the next fight will be. It¡¯s better to be prepared.¡±

    Helen sighed at that. ¡°Don¡¯t you remember what I told you?¡± She muttered.

    ¡°No one is ever ready.¡±

    <hr>

    Seamus looked up at the sky. It was mid-day now. ¡°We won¡¯t be able to make it for the Midsommar celebrations in Yorktown,¡± he realized aloud.

    ¡°We can always celebrate here in Vindis.¡± Bjorn pointed out as he followed behind the young man. The two were currently in the gold district, near the center of the city. The thieves had dropped them off here, since they couldn¡¯t risk having him followed back at the initial shop they traveled from. They still haven¡¯t found the stalker.

    Seamus looked around at the well-kept buildings and clean streets. People here had much nicer clothing and fancier capes. Even the watch looked competent. While Seamus and Bjorn looked decent with their wool cloaks and padded gambesons, they still looked out of place here, to where they caught some looks from the people.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± Bjorn muttered. ¡°Too many rich assholes in one place.¡±

    ¡°Tell me about it,¡± Seamus agreed. Valenfrost was the one place where the rich and pompous didn¡¯t belong.

    ¡°Weren¡¯t you raised from money?¡± Bjorn questioned.

    ¡°That was different. My father and mother raised me to be frugal and conservative with my coin. I wore nothing fancy and ate nothing a common man couldn¡¯t get his hands on,¡± Seamus explained. ¡°My father wanted me to understand the unfortunate.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± The dwarf raised an eyebrow. ¡°Yorn really was something else¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Seamus murmured. As the two walked, they passed by a variety of people. Rich folks with colorful clothing, merchants with golden rings and jewelry, and even a couple of city guards with steel armor. However, there was one person who caught the young man¡¯s attention. It was a homeless man with a blindfold, his walking stick guiding him throughout the side streets. Seamus had only caught a brief look at him, but it was enough for him.

    He stopped dead in his tracks, his blood running cold. ¡°Seamus?¡± Bjorn prodded suddenly. ¡°You alright?¡±

    Seamus tried to answer, to find the words, but he struggled. ¡°I¡­I¡­¡± He started. How could he explain it? How could he explain the sudden fear and terror he felt in his heart? He couldn¡¯t even fathom a reason he felt this way. He had never seen the blind man before. Yet his body reacted as if he saw a terrifying threat.

    ¡°I need to go,¡± Seamus forced himself to say. ¡°I¡¯ll meet you at Nathan¡¯s later.¡± He didn¡¯t give Bjorn time to answer before he jogged off into the side streets. The young man did not know why, but his instincts were telling him that this blind man was not what he seemed.

    <hr>

    Gustus kept close to Eli, his hand moving to the wrapped sword by his side. ¡°Is it wise to be in this part of the city looking like this?¡± He asked as he spotted another man in colorful clothing. The two marauders didn¡¯t exactly fit in with their homeless disguises and dirty cloaks.

    ¡°It won¡¯t matter,¡± Eli answered. ¡°The worst they could do is insult and berate us. Even then, I doubt these pompous pigs would ever waste their time on homeless men.¡±

    ¡°Right, it¡¯s just that¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget who¡¯s in charge here,¡± the spellcaster pointed out. ¡°As long as you¡¯re with me, you do not get to question my methods. Understand?¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Gustus muttered. The blind marauder grinned and continued his walk, his hand using his staff to guide his walking. The raven familiar the man had was currently dispelled, which meant that Eli had to rely on his staff as a makeshift walking stick to get around. Gustus had to read out the signs and directions in the city for him, just to make sure the blind man didn¡¯t get lost.

    After some more walking and navigating, the two finally reached a simple building. Compared to the rest of the gold district buildings, this one looked out of place. It was two stories, with a silver sign that read:

    Ferir¡¯s Tomes and Scrolls

    It was a Wizard¡¯s shop, one that boasted golden accents on its doors and carved gargoyles that sat outside the entrance.

    ¡°Wait here.¡± Eli waved to Gustus, who watched as the blind man entered the embroidered doors. He awaited outside, unsure of what to do other than stand guard.

    As the marauder waited, he thought about Deimos¡¯ plan. At first, he had thought it was about the Draugr. That¡¯s what it seemed like in the first place. Now, however, the objective had entirely shifted. The scale and width of their goal was something Gustus only heard of in stories. It was something he never thought he¡¯d be a part of.

    He recalled the stories of the Halvorson raid. The tales of Yorn and his fall. The rumor that his fabled son was alive and looking for revenge. They were stories, sure, but Gustus knew that stories always had some sense of reality in them. After all, where else would they have come from?

    The marauder had only begun to think about this when he heard a loud commotion in the shop behind him. He turned, his hand moving to his hidden sword. Gustus contemplated on coming inside to help Eli. More noises of a struggle sounded out, accompanied by a loud shout that wasn¡¯t Eli¡¯s.

    ¡°Arcane Bolt!¡±

    Gustus prepared himself, his hand already halfway through unsheathing his sword. Just as he grabbed the doorknob, something was thrown out the window nearby, shattering glass everywhere. Gustus stopped, his gaze moving to the steaming heap on the pathway. It was an elderly man, his eyes lifeless and his chest showcasing a deep wound that crackled and steamed. His Wizard hat was burnt to a crisp, nearly unrecognizable.

    The door in front of Gustus opened, and Eli stepped out. His outfit was changed back to his marauder garb, which told Gustus that the spellcaster had his illusion dispelled. Still, Eli barely had a scratch on him, his robes and black armor only slightly singed. The spellcaster sniffed the air, his face contorting into one of disgust.

    ¡°Gustus, get that corpse into the shop. The watch could come at any second.¡± Eli turned to the marauder, his hand waving. ¡°Get on with it. Don¡¯t just stand there.¡±

    Gustus nodded slowly. ¡°Yes, sir¡­¡± He hurried to the body, holding his breath as he grabbed the legs. He dragged the dead Wizard hurryingly, hoping that no one would come by and see the chaotic scene. The marauder was thankful that the street was barren during the altercation. He mentally attributed that to Midsommar. The festivities were soon to start and most people would be already getting prepared.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    The marauder looked up at the sky, watching as the sun slowly approached the afternoon. Gustus felt a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of tonight. When the blind spellcaster was done with his spell circle, he knew Midsommar would turn from a festival of life to one of death.

    <hr>

    Seamus felt his legs burn with effort, his lungs quickly working overtime to bring him the air he needed. The young man needed to get out of Vindis to get help. The blind homeless man he had just seen was nothing more than the marauder who assisted Deimos during the raid of the fort. Seamus only needed to see him to understand what was happening.

    ¡®It can¡¯t happen again! I won¡¯t let them do to Vindis what they did to my home!¡¯

    He needed to stop this, no matter what. Seamus thought of a plan as he rushed through alleyways and platform bridges. Maybe he could tell the watch? That was useless. Even if they believed him, they didn¡¯t have access to the alarm runes in Vindis. Maybe he could get help from Yorktown? No, it would be half a day¡¯s sail. By the time Seamus would get to Yorktown, Vindis would already be razed and burnt. That also meant contacting James would be useless. Even if the Jarl could rally up a force, he wouldn¡¯t get here on time.

    Seamus stopped in his tracks, his mind going to his only hope.

    ¡®Nathan!¡¯

    The Wizard could sound the alarm, get the entire city on guard and contact the nearby clans. Seamus looked up at the street signs, his feet turning to the south. He sprinted, hoping to all hope that he was fast enough.

    <hr>

    Gwenyth stared at the Wizard shop, her hands clenching tightly. The elf had been tailing Seamus for the better part of the day, hoping that the young man would give her something to go on. Yet she found something else even more urgent. The marauders were here, and they had just executed Vindis¡¯ primary Wizard. She felt for her saber, almost ready to go into the shop and stop whatever they were doing. Instead of rushing, however, she hesitated. That blind spellcaster gave her a horrible feeling. One she hadn¡¯t felt in a century.

    ¡®Could it be¡­?¡¯

    Gwenyth pondered on the possibility. If she was right, Vindis was in even more danger. She looked to the spot where the dead Wizard had been. She remembered him from her scouting. Ferir was the primary Wizard of the city, in charge of the ley line totems and keeping them connected. He was supposed to be a formidable spellcaster, capable of rank four spells. Yet he had been dispatched in only a minute.

    The elf rethought her plan. She couldn¡¯t risk fighting someone like that spellcaster, not when she only had four castings left. While she couldn¡¯t be entirely sure, Gwenyth didn¡¯t want to gamble her life. She needed to tell Arthur and William. The elf turned around, ignoring Seamus as he ran for his life. She would deal with him later. This was a much more important matter.

    The elf formed her fingers as she ran, recasting a spell that had run its course earlier.

    ¡°Nimble Feet!¡±

    Gwenyth felt her body grow lighter, her stamina reinvigorating itself. It would only last for a minute, but it would be enough for her to make it to the base.

    <hr>

    Seamus tripped and stumbled through trash and discarded pots. He cursed as he stood up, not caring for the crap that stuck itself on his clothes. The young man was almost to the Wizard¡¯s shop, his eyes focusing on the distant light of the blue lanterns. As he began his run, he could hear the cheering and commotion of the nearby street. Seamus looked up at the sky, seeing how the day grew late. Midsommar was beginning its festivities and the people of Vindis were already preparing to celebrate.

    These people weren¡¯t aware of the terror that would befall them. They were oblivious to it all, their laughs and shouts showing the young man that they had planned to enjoy themselves. The marauders would destroy it all and paint the streets red. That is, if Seamus failed. The young Halvorson gritted his teeth and pushed his body farther, his sore legs moving to run.

    By the time he made it to Nathan¡¯s shop, Seamus was exhausted. His legs wobbled and his breathing was rapid. He slammed on the door, trying to open it. It was locked.

    ¡°No¡­ No no!¡± Seamus banged on the entrance, trying to get the attention of whoever was in there. ¡°Open! Please open the door!¡±

    He fidgeted with the knob, trying his best to force it open. Seamus soon slammed his shoulder against the door, his yells going hoarse.

    ¡°Open dammit!¡± On his third slam, the door finally gave in and opened. The young man fell to the ground, his gaze moving up.

    The gnome called Wheaton looked down at him in anger, his eyebrow raised. ¡°You idiot! What is wrong with you?! You could have broken the¨C!¡± His sentence would never be finished, as Seamus pushed past him. The young man rushed to the back room, bursting through the curtain.

    Nathan was there, along with Bjorn, Rockford, and the two artificer gnomes. The Wizard looked at Seamus with a confused look. ¡°Seamus? Are you alright? You look like¨C¡±

    ¡°Sound the alarm!¡± Seamus shouted suddenly, his legs stumbling over. He landed on his hands and knees, but the young man didn¡¯t care.

    ¡°Marauders are going to raid the city! I need you to sound the fucking alarm!¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Nimble Feet! Shadow Step!¡±

    The elf swept through the dark alleyways of the slums, her hands forming runes. She was on her last few castings now, but it didn¡¯t matter. All she needed to do was get to the old town hall. There, she and Arthur could come up with a plan to deal with the marauders.

    ¡®And that spellcaster.¡¯

    The blind man was a threat, one that could come to threaten Valenfrost in the near future. If he wasn¡¯t taken care of, Gwenyth would risk a repeat of a war. Even worse, it could mean that he was returning. The elf shook off that memory. It wouldn¡¯t do her good to dwell on that. She needed to focus on the current situation. Soon enough, she could spot the town hall, its decrepit wood giving the elf some relief.

    Gwenyth rushed to the building, her nimble feet spell and Shadow Step dispelling just in time. Her hands slammed the doors open.

    ¡°Arthur!¡± she shouted as she looked around. She blinked in surprise as her eyes met that of a stranger. No, not just a stranger. The man wore Lumen armor, the symbol of the phoenix imprinted on his chest. He was accompanied by others who wore similar garbs, their numbers ranging from around fifteen to twenty. There were even some Lumen Knights here, their wax seals showcasing the Delphine coat of arms. They all looked at her with confused and surprised looks, some of them even muttering amongst themselves.

    ¡°What the¡­?¡±

    ¡°Gwenyth!¡± Arthur¡¯s voice called out from behind her. She turned and met the Outlander¡¯s gaze. He was in the courtyard, wearing his armor, as a nearby mage drew a rune circle on the ground.

    ¡°Arthur? What the hel is happening?! Why are there soldiers here?!¡± She stepped up the Outlander, almost contemplating on punching him. Before she could act out on it, she could feel her natural alert go off. The elf¡¯s eyes widened, and she hurried to pull her saber out. She would be too late, as something hard hit her head.

    Her vision blurred, and her world went spinning. Gwenyth landed on the ground in a daze, something hot trickling down her forehead.

    ¡®Blood¡­¡¯ she realized. Gwenyth looked up at the grinning mask of Eilif, who stood above her with a blunt club. He raised it once more and struck down, sending the elf into the darkness.

    <hr>

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The alarm! You need to alert everyone in the city and the clans!¡± Seamus reiterated as Bjorn helped him up.

    Nathan raised an eyebrow. ¡°I heard you, but¡­ the marauders of the north?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re here! They killed the Wizard in the gold district!¡±

    ¡°Ferir?¡± Nathan¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You¡¯re lying! Ferir is Vindis¡¯ primary Wizard. They can¡¯t just simply kill him.¡±

    ¡°Well, they did! That blind bastard Eli killed him! I saw it all happen. You have to believe me!¡± Seamus gestured around. ¡°This city! They¡¯re going to raid it! Like they did with my home, they¡¯re going to kill everyone here and burn it all down!¡±

    Nathan stared at the young man, his expression that of disbelief and shock. He was clearly conflicted with Seamus¡¯ words, his eyes glancing at the crystal ball that rested nearby.

    ¡°Even if what you¡¯re saying is true, I cannot sound the alarm.¡±

    ¡°What?! Why not!?¡±

    ¡°Only designated spellcasters have that authority. Magisters and the like. I¡¯m just a cheap Wizard,¡± Nathan revealed.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you contact them then?! Alert them!¡± Seamus shouted.

    ¡°I can¡¯t! It¡¯s Midsommar, so most of them are drinking at bars or out of the city!¡±

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Seamus cursed loudly. He grabbed at his hair. They needed to hurry before the ley lines were disconnected from the city and all communication was cut off. It was the same tactic used in the Halvorson raid, the same tactic that had deprived the fort of reinforcements. ¡°Can you contact the nearby outposts? Any of the clans?¡±

    Nathan shook his head at that. ¡°I can only contact people I know. People that I¡¯ve met or have a trace of,¡± Seamus contemplated for a moment. His mind went to the only hope he had left. The only person who could help. He grabbed his bear pin, the one gifted to him a month back. He held it out to Nathan.

    ¡°A Wizard named Falrick gave this to me. His trace should still be on it. Find him and contact him.¡±

    <hr>

    When Gwenyth came to, she was met with the smell of shit and mildew. She felt like shit and the blood on her forehead was dried up. She coughed, her blurred vision slowly clearing up. When it did, Gwenyth realized she was in a cell block. Mold grew on the walls and the iron bars around her were rusted to all hell. There was even a body nearby, its bloodied tabard showing her it used to be a city guard.

    ¡®I¡¯m in the copper district¡¯s jail¡­¡¯

    She lifted her gaze to the bars in front of her. The light was scarce, but it was enough for her to see the figures of Arthur and Eilif. The bounty hunter tapped on the bars, his raspy voice grating against the elf¡¯s ears.

    ¡°She¡¯s awake.¡±

    Gwenyth clenched her jaw. ¡°You bastards! What are you doing?! Marauders are coming to raid this city and you turn against me?!¡±

    ¡°We know,¡± Arthur responded simply.

    Gwenyth blinked. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°We know the marauders are planning to raid the city. We have for a while. We¡¯re going to let them,¡± the former apostle reiterated.

    ¡°Why? Why would you¡­? Those soldiers¡­ The Lumen knights¡­ What are you planning to do with them?¡± Gwenyth questioned.

    Arthur narrowed his gaze. ¡°We know for a fact that Deimos will show himself in the raid. That¡¯s a part of the real reason for the Lumen Knights.¡±

    ¡°The real reason?¡±

    Arthur sighed. ¡°The city has been a target for a while. It is a threat, one that could prove problematic in the future.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Gwenyth questioned.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not be na?ve here. There is a war coming. With how tensions are rising, at some point, we¡¯ll be forced to engage with the nomads in Valenfrost, whether they like it or not. Maybe in a few years, maybe next month. The council is paranoid and wants to get ahead of the curb,¡± Arthur explained.

    ¡°So that¡¯s what it¡¯s about? Politics? What about James? The ley lines? Sealing the source?!¡± Gwenyth shouted this out to the former apostle. She knew what she saw in Buravon was real. Arthur had to know that the ley lines needed to be fixed.

    Arthur crouched to meet the elf¡¯s eye level. ¡°We know where he is. Had known since the beginning. We just needed to confirm the location of the fracture¡¯s source.¡±

    ¡°You knew all this time? What about the scouting and the¡­¡± Gwenyth trailed off. How could she have been so stupid? Arthur wasn¡¯t scouting to learn more about James. He was looking for strategic locations. ¡°You¡¯re planning to meet the marauders when they raid,¡± Gwenyth muttered in realization. ¡°You want to use Vindis as a proxy battleground. Then sink it when the marauders are taken care of¡­¡±

    ¡°Took her long enough,¡± Eilif chuckled.

    ¡°Did William know?¡± Gwenyth asked.

    ¡°He knew,¡± Arthur revealed. ¡°He¡¯s currently in the iron district, forming the summoning circle for more reinforcements.¡±

    ¡°Why did you bring me along, then? If you were just going to stab me in the back?¡±

    ¡°Originally, this was supposed to be a simple mission. We were supposed to seal the fracture, get Holter, leave Valenfrost,¡± Arthur admitted. ¡°Things got complicated once we found out about Holter¡¯s involvement in this city and those damned marauders.¡± The apostle sighed. ¡°Alfred warned me you weren¡¯t going to agree easily to it.¡±

    Gwenyth scowled. ¡°That bastard knew about this?! I¡¯ll gut him when I get my hands on¡ª¡±

    ¡°Save your breath,¡± Eilif called out. ¡°When this is all over, you¡¯ll thank us for ridding this world of both Deimos and this cursed city.¡±

    ¡°Arthur,¡± Gwenyth muttered, her words laced with vitriol. ¡°You can still change this. We don¡¯t have to sink this city and put everyone to the sword. There¡¯s still time to fix this!¡±

    Arthur only stared at her, his legs standing him up. ¡°We¡¯ll come back for you when it¡¯s all done. After that, we¡¯ll talk.¡± He turned and left, leaving the elf alone with the bounty hunter.

    Eilif chuckled, his brass goggles turning to the window. ¡°You¡¯ve proven to be the same as always, Gwenyth. Oblivious and foolish. Just like when you lost your arm. Or when you let Gerald die.¡±

    The elf¡¯s heart dropped at the mention of her old companion. There was none alive that could say that. No one who could remember what happened a lifetime ago. She strained against her cuffs. ¡°When this is over, I¡¯m going to rip off that grinning mask of yours. No man is immortal, Eilif. I hope you know that.¡±

    The bounty hunter only chuckled as he walked away.

    ¡°I cannot wait.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 41: Judgement Day

    James sat in his chair, blankly staring at a spot on the wall. The voices of everyone around were muffled, their shouts and calls falling on deaf ears. Just an hour ago, he had been preparing for the Midsommar. The townspeople were setting up tables and chairs for a grand feast, one that would dwarf the Bloom festival¡¯s own. However, before the Jarl could kick start it all, Falrick had come to him. The Wizard¡¯s words were one that stuck to James and made everything in the world come to a halt.

    ¡°The marauders are invading Vindis.¡±

    Seamus had sent the message through Nathan, using the Wizard¡¯s crystal ball to contact Falrick. According to the old Wizard, the transmission was cut out soon after the warning was given. Falrick had a few theories, none of them good. The last hour had been chaotic since, with the townspeople panicking and the young clan leader calling a meeting in the longhouse. He wanted to sort it out, to form a plan. Yet James had nothing.

    The people in the longhouse were in a panic. Felix was doing his best to calm Nora and Otis. Harald sat there with a worried gaze, while Helen¡¯s face was pale with realization. The orcs were clamoring amongst themselves, arguing about whether or not they should fight. Archibald was freaking out, the elf pacing back and forth in the chaos. Haggard was even quiet, his gaze focused on the ground. Malik was in the corner, watching everyone as he pondered.

    James sat in the middle of it all, his mind blank and his stomach twisting in on itself. There was nothing he could do. If the marauders were raiding the city, it meant that they had enough manpower and resources to do it. Deimos didn¡¯t seem like the kind of man to be the underdog. If he was raiding Vindis, he either had more than enough men, or more than enough firepower. James¡¯ own clan had grown, but it was far from being enough to repel a city invasion.

    There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say to quell the fear of the townspeople. James looked at his hands, which shook a little. Was he scared? Was he that hopeless? That he felt helpless infuriated him. He clenched his shaking hands into fists. He was angry at himself for being too weak, for being too slow. James knew once Deimos was done with Vindis, Yorktown was next. The entire island was doomed, no option left other than to leave and scatter.

    James¡¯ thoughts were interrupted when Dahlia¡¯s hand grabbed at his arm. He snapped out of his stupor, the clamoring voices around him now gone. Everyone was quiet, their focus on James. Dahlia was looking at him, her amber eyes calming him in a way.

    ¡°James, what do we do?¡±

    The young Jarl looked at her, his throat going dry. He wanted to tell her the truth, to tell her he truly didn¡¯t know what he could do. Yet he couldn¡¯t. He couldn¡¯t give up hope. Not when they have gone this far. They went through so much together. He couldn¡¯t throw it all away like this.

    ¡®James,¡¯ Faust muttered in his mind. The spirit sounded somber, almost wistful. ¡®There¡¯s a way around this. Falrick himself has gone through it before, back during the Halvorson. Ask him what we could do.¡¯ James slowly nodded at the spirit¡¯s advice. He turned to the Wizard, who looked just as pale and shaken.

    ¡°Falrick, you went through this before. What can we do?¡± James forced himself to be stoic and straightforward. It wouldn¡¯t do anyone good if he showed his fear.

    The Wizard blinked and turned to him. ¡°If the marauders are raiding the city, then it means that they¡¯ve shut down the totems that connect the city to the ley lines. It means that the city¡¯s alarm systems are disabled, making it so that the other clans are oblivious.¡±

    ¡°The other clans¡­ Did Seamus contact them?¡±

    ¡°I doubt it. Seamus looked and sounded desperate. It¡¯s clear we were the last resort.¡±

    ¡°Shit.¡± James shook his head, his left hand moving through his hair. ¡°Can you contact the other clans? Maybe we can alert them?¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t,¡± Falrick shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t contact anyone I don¡¯t know. Besides, my crystal ball could only reach so far.¡± The Wizard sighed. James resisted the urge to loudly curse. He needed to keep his nerve.

    ¡°Can¡­ Can we reconnect the city to its ley lines?¡± Dahlia asked suddenly.

    ¡°What?¡± Falrick raised his head.

    ¡°Can we reconnect the city to the ley lines? Is it possible to activate the totems once more? If we do that, maybe we could contact the nearby outposts and get reinforcements?¡± The shaman¡¯s words seemed to breathe new life in Falrick.

    The Wizard sat up straighter, his eyes sparking with hope. ¡°Yes¡­ If we can reactivate the totems, we could bring the city back to life. If we could get just one of them on, we could raise the alarm system!¡±

    James looked at Dahlia, his heart fluttering with excitement. They had a chance, after all.

    ¡°Can you really do that?¡±

    ¡°Yes, with the right materials, we both could reactivate the totems and sound the alarm. That is, if we could get to them in time.¡± Dahlia¡¯s expression faltered. ¡°We won¡¯t be fast enough¡­ The city is too far away for us to get there in time.¡±

    ¡°There is a way,¡± Falrick revealed, his finger raising.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± James asked.

    ¡°I was planning on testing this in the near future, but it looks like this situation is calling for it.¡± Falrick sighed. ¡°Our solution is floating the harbor, waiting to be used.¡±

    <hr>

    Gwenyth could smell the ash from her cell. It made her sick to her stomach. She looked up at the window, seeing how smoke rose into the orange sky. The raid had begun not too long ago, around an hour after Arthur left her here. Since then, she had been trying to break out her cuffs, to get free. Yet she couldn¡¯t. The shackles were made of a material that was supposed to even resist the strongest of berserkers.

    They were even enchanted with mana draining runes, which was overkill considering that the elf had only two castings left. Gwenyth could only sit there, stewing in her thoughts and guilt, as the city burned in the background. She shifted in her cell, her eyes darting around the dank room once more. Despite there being nothing to free her, she did it anyway. Out of hope or stupidity, it could have been either.

    Just like last time, nothing. It was all barren, all except for the body of that city guard. The elf had already considered searching the man¡¯s body, to see if he had a key. However, she soon discarded the idea after finding out that his body was out of reach. Gwenyth stared at the dead guard, her thoughts slowly going to Arthur and Eilif. They were probably burning the docks and killing any fleeing civilians. All to make sure their plan went flawlessly. The elf gritted her teeth in anger. She chastised herself for being stupid enough to serve the Lumen Kingdom. The elf had foolishly believed that things had changed decades after. How na?ve she still was.

    ¡°What a fool I was to believe that things have truly changed,¡± she muttered to herself. The sound of Fireballs sounded out in the distance, signifying to the elf that even after centuries of consequences, the ones in power always make the same mistakes.

    ¡°Wallowing in your anger and guilt?¡± a voice suddenly whispered. The elf raised her head in surprise, her eyes searching the dim room. There was no one around.

    ¡°Who was that?¡± she asked.

    ¡°It isn¡¯t important,¡± the voice answered. Gwenyth turned to the front of the jail, her ears pinpointing the source. It was the city guard that was slumped against the wall. His head was covered in the shadow of the prison, but Gwenyth could still see the blue pinpricks of lights that represented his eyes. She looked at the man¡¯s hands, seeing how the skin shriveled and blackened. Tiny bits of crystal even formed.

    ¡°We¡¯ve been observing you, Sterling,¡± the corpse muttered. ¡°Watching you ever since that day¡­¡±

    ¡°Who are you?¡± The elf asked with wide eyes. She sat upright, watching as the guardsman¡¯s corpse shifted forward. The sparse light in the cell was enough to reveal glimpses of the clouded crystals and frostbitten skin that covered the body. Realization hit the elf.

    ¡°You¡¯re that thing from Buravon,¡± she realized aloud. ¡°You¡¯ve been watching me?¡±

    The thing nodded. ¡°To tell you the truth, we¡¯re starting to believe that you might be on our side.¡±

    ¡°Side? What side?¡± Gwenyth leaned forward. ¡°You mutilate and slaughter people. You consume them and use their bodies as fodder. I will never be on your side.¡±

    ¡°Oh, but you are. You hate the gods. You despise the sins of man. We too hate it all. Delphine, Myr, they¡¯re all false icons and power hungry bastards.¡±

    ¡°What are you?¡± The elf asked, ¡°You¡¯re intelligent, comprehending, and even worship something. What in Dremor¡¯s name are you?¡± Her question seemed to silence the abomination.

    The thing almost looked to be pondering it, its head tilting. ¡°Have you ever wondered where the dark gods went?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Why is it that only light gods exist? Delphine, Caelus, Horus. Where are the dark deities?¡± The corpse asked. Gwenyth blinked. She thought of Myr almost immediately, but soon brushed that away. As insane as he was, Myr wasn¡¯t evil. He was simply crazy neutral, a force of nature needed to balance life.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m not sure,¡± she muttered. Almost every god she knew about was far from evil. The closest were Iendis and Myr, but again, they were just forces of nature and only interested in the fascinating. They did not wish ill will on Azura or humanity.

    ¡°There is much you do not know. Knowledge that has been lost to the centuries. Gods that have been forgotten.¡± The abomination slowly stood up, the light from the window finally shining on its face. Gwenyth stared in horror at the crystals that covered half its head. Its lips were shriveled back, revealing gnashed teeth and black gums.

    The thing raised a key with its frostbitten fingers. ¡°We might be enemies, but tonight has made us allies.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°We are flickering. Dying. If the city falls and the Draugr dies, we will cease to exist. Deimos and Arthur must not be allowed to win.¡± The abomination moved to unlock the cell, its body shuddering as it did so. Gwenyth could see how the thing¡¯s glowing eyes began to flicker and weaken. It fell soon after opening the door, its hand reaching to the elf.

    ¡°The last of the ley line totems have been disabled. This is the most I can do,¡± it weakly muttered. Gwenyth could only watch as her shackles grew cold. Frost formed around it, the runes on the metal dying. The elf only had to strain against them to break the shackles. She stood up soon after, her eyes moving to the shriveled corpse. Its words stuck to her. Was stopping Arthur the best thing to do? Will that thing really come back if she did so?

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Gwenyth looked to the window of her cell, her ears picking up the sounds of distant battle and Fireballs. She only had to focus on the screaming to make her choice.

    <hr>

    Argyle coughed as he hung onto the debris of his longboat. He blinked rapidly, his blurred vision focusing on the harbor nearby. His memories flashed back to him, recollecting what had happened. The dwarf had just called in it for the day, his men rearing to take him to the docks. Yet before they could even do it, that marauder ship rammed their boat. Argyle could only remember the screaming banshee that was strapped to its hull.

    The dwarf looked around for his men, trying to see if any survived. His heart dropped when he saw the countless floating heaps in the water. The sea was tinted red, filled with burning debris and dead men. Argyle struggled to paddle, his gaze focusing on the city ahead. He soon wished he didn¡¯t. Plumes of black smoke rose from Vindis, embers floating everywhere as the sounds of screams and battle reached him. The docks were on fire, half of its ships sinking or set aflame.

    ¡°This is a dream¡­a nightmare,¡± Argyle told himself. He would wake up any minute now, hungover and aching with a migraine. He even pinched himself multiple times. However, he soon figured out it wasn¡¯t a nightmare. This was reality. The marauders had come for Vindis, in the same way they came for Yorn Halvorson. The dwarf spotted what looked to be survivors, civilians, and city guards running for the longships at the harbor. He could also see the armored soldiers on the other side, their swords drawn and their capes blue in color.

    ¡°Lumen soldiers? What are they doing here?¡± Argyle was confused at the sight of these men, his heart soon filling with dread when he saw their bloodied weapons. He knew these men were far from the cavalry. The armored soldiers stabbed at bodies, making sure they were dead as the mages at the rear set buildings aflame. The dwarf wanted to scream at the oblivious survivors nearby. He wanted to warn them of the danger. Yet his throat was hoarse and his body was weak.

    Argyle tried to swim, to paddle his way to the docks. Still, he was too slow. The Lumen soldiers had already spotted the survivors. The dwarf could only watch in horror as they slaughtered everyone on the harbor.

    <hr>

    Daven Larsson cursed to himself as he hid in the alleyway. He watched as marauders rushed past, their red handprints painted on their bare chests and armored plates. Never in a thousand years did he think they would raid the floating city. Not when Vindis had a foolproof security system. Yet here they were, burning buildings and slaughtering the people.

    ¡°Sir, what do we do?¡± One of his men asked. Daven looked at his fellow clansman. He looked like how Daven felt. Scared shitless.

    ¡°We wait for reinforcements. The alarm must have sounded by now,¡± He managed out in a whisper. Clan Olafson had outposts nearby the city. Once they get notified of the raid, they would surely come to assist, as well as the rest of the clans that owned a stake here.

    Daven knew they would come. They had to come. Otherwise, what would be the point in that alarm?

    ¡°We have to do something!¡± Another hissed. ¡°We cannot stand here while these animals destroy our city!¡±

    ¡°Are you insane?¡± Daven looked at the man in disbelief. ¡°This is a losing battle. Sacrificing ourselves won¡¯t do anything but give those monsters a thrill! No, it is best for us to stay hidden. To stay quiet and wait for help.¡±

    That seemed to irritate some clansmen, their expressions contorting to that of anger and frustration in response. It was only when a Fireball sounded out that they finally broke.

    ¡°Damn you, Daven!¡± One suddenly shouted. ¡°I¡¯m not standing here idly while they slaughter our people!¡± He raised his shield, the clansman pushing past Daven as he left the safety of the alley. Daven could only watch as one by one, his men left him. They all rushed to the streets of Vindis, shields raised and swords brandished.

    The emissary stood there, dumbfounded. He was alone in the alleyway now, the only thing keeping him company being that of the serpent on his tabard. He gulped, wondering if he, too, should join the fight. Daven shook his head. No, he wanted to live. He needed to live.

    The coward of the Olafson clan would soon retreat into the shadows in hopes that he could outlast the raid.

    <hr>

    Lars shouted in glee as he struck another man with his warhammer. He watched with delight as the guard¡¯s head caved in, spilling blood and brain matter all over the street. The marauder rushed to the next city guard, who was watching in stunned silence. He took this opportunity to crush this man¡¯s chest. The guard fell back, his raspy gasp sounding as if he had broken glass in his lungs.

    Lars reveled in the bloodshed, his adrenaline pumping with excitement as more guards came in to fight him. The berserker chuckled as he lifted his warhammer. He hadn¡¯t had this much fun since the Outsider Wars. Even then, there was no feeling like this. Deimos had let him loose upon the city, ordering the marauder to do nothing more than kill. Lars was more than happy to oblige.

    The berserker looked to his left, spotting the other marauders. They were nothing more than hired bandits, yet they were competent enough to allow Lars to do what he wanted. They were burning and raiding buildings, dragging out survivors to execute. He didn¡¯t care for that. Lars only cared for the fighting. It was why he focused on the guards, who all did their best to fight off the invasion. It was all for naught, however, as Lars was an unhinged man with access to potions and weaponry. They stood no chance against him.

    ¡°Surround him!¡± one shouted. ¡°He can¡¯t take us all if we box him in!¡± The guards all had spears, a challenging weapon that could very well spell the end of Lars. However, he had a counter. The berserker reached for his pouch, his fingers grabbing a vial. Without a second thought, the berserker downed the potion, his body tensing up at the feeling of it. The guards all stopped in their tracks, their gazes fixed on Lars.

    ¡°Potion! Get him now before it sets!¡±

    It was already too late. The world seemed to slow down around Lars as the agility potion made its presence known. The berserker grinned and rushed ahead, his hands lifting the warhammer for another swing.

    <hr>

    Seamus peeked from the shop¡¯s curtain. He focused on the distant flames of the burning buildings, which spread quickly. It wouldn¡¯t be long before they reached Nathan¡¯s shop. ¡°What are we going to do?¡± He asked the Wizard. Seamus turned around to the interior of the shop, his eyes focusing on Nathan. The Wizard was currently strapping a bandolier around his torso, his hands making sure the vials were secured.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to hold out here. This shop can withstand the flames, trust me.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not going to fight?¡± Bjorn asked.

    ¡°Fighting is a last resort for us. We¡¯re not soldiers.¡± Nathan gestured to Wheaton, Rockford, and the artificer gnomes. They were currently setting up barricades around the windows and doorways. ¡°You can go out there and fight, be my guest, but my employees are not soldiers,¡± Nathan frowned. ¡°We¡¯re simple tradesmen, nothing more.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a Wizard! I thought that meant you¡¯ve mastered the main schools of magic,¡± Bjorn pointed out. ¡°You can fight!¡±

    That seemed to bother Nathan. ¡°It¡¯s not that,¡± he sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving my shop. This is a place I¡¯ve built up over years of hard work. I¡¯ll be damned before they raid and destroy it all.¡±

    ¡°There are marauders raiding the city. If¡­ When they reach here, this shop will be nothing more than another battleground,¡± Bjorn argued. His words hung in the air for a moment, the Wizard doing nothing more than lowering his head. Seamus tried to catch a reaction, but the wide brim of the hat blocked out the man¡¯s face.

    ¡°If we¡¯re really going to fight, then we¡¯ll need allies,¡± he said. ¡°A Wizard alone cannot be enough to take on a full scale invasion. I need people to watch my back and keep me covered.¡±

    Bjorn went quiet for a moment. The dwarf thought for a moment, but it was clear he was having trouble coming up with an answer.

    ¡°The Thieves Guild,¡± Seamus muttered. ¡°They can help. They have to. This is their city as much as it is yours, Nathan. If we get to Markov, I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll appreciate you helping to push the marauders back.¡±

    Nathan moved his hand to his chin. ¡°Yes¡­that could work. Do you know where the guild is?¡± He asked. Seamus recalled the passageway he took earlier that day, back when he met with Markov.

    ¡°I know of a way to get there quickly.¡±

    <hr>

    James fitted on the last of his armor, the black fur almost tickling at his neck. He moved his arms around and shifted his torso, trying his best to get used to the armor¡¯s weight. Still the steel was far from heavy. It was lighter and much more flexible than James initially expected it to be. Even with his gambeson underneath, the entire armor set was light enough for him to be quick and flexible enough for him to move properly. The orcs had truly outdone themselves.

    James looked down at his old short sword, which had once been his go to weapon. It was recently sharpened and cleaned, but it didn¡¯t erase the nicks and scratches of the past. James rubbed his finger over the sigil on the guard before he slung the sheathed weapon over his shoulder, having it hang off his back. It was now useful as a backup weapon, while he used his new sword as a primary. The small hand ax he kept on his waist was still there on his belt, mainly as a precaution.

    As James finished gearing up, Dahlia approached him. She was wearing a gambeson and partial steel plate, the set only protecting her torso while her gambeson and chainmail protected her arms. It was scavenged armor that was taken from the Lumen soldiers, as evident from the faded symbol of the phoenix that had once been visible on the chest. It was now painted over with a white raven.

    ¡°Are you really ready for this?¡± Dahlia asked as she picked up his steel helm. It was the same one James had used during his quest last Frost.

    ¡°I have to be,¡± he muttered. The Jarl looked over at the gravel beach, where orcs and humans alike were preparing themselves. They wore different pieces of armor, all of it ranging from mail, steel, and leather. Yet they all bore the symbol of the white raven. The orcs even painted blue skulls over their faces and helmets, mimicking James¡¯ visage from whenever he had used Faust¡¯s otherworldly powers. There were more people here than James realized. Most of them were town guards, but some he recognized as regular townsfolk. They had volunteered themselves.

    The Jarl couldn¡¯t turn down their request as much as he wanted to. Falrick had already told him he needed all the battle strength he could get. The townspeople were also adamant about their choice, as they knew losing this fight would leave Yorktown vulnerable to the marauders once more. No one wanted that. Even Lilith was preparing for battle, despite the language barrier. She had understood enough that Seamus was in danger, and so the berserker was ready to fight. The red-haired woman was currently having Helen fit in her gambeson and armor, as she didn¡¯t know how to.

    Dahlia handed out the steel helm to James, her gaze moving to the men and women on the beach. ¡°It¡¯s hard, but you¡¯ll have to show them you¡¯re willing to fight. They need to see their leader be fearless.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± James accepted the helm from the shaman, his fingers rubbing over the nicks and scratches in the steel. The memories of the past made its way into his head, reminding him of the times he fought. The abominations, the orcs, the knights, and Deimos. They all had beaten him down to a pulp, had pushed him to his limits, and left him as nothing more than a heap of wounds and broken bones.

    ¡®But they never did one thing. They never managed to kill me. Not fully anyway,¡¯ James thought to himself as he attached the steel helm to his belt.

    ¡®Today could be different. Tonight could very well be the night your luck runs out,¡¯ Faust muttered.

    James stopped for a moment. He looked to the gravel beach, to everyone around. The orcs were grouped up, their voices cluttered as they sung a foreign sounding chant. The surrounding humans also partook, their voices joining the chant. James couldn¡¯t help but smile a little.

    ¡®As long as this clan lives, my life could matter less,¡¯ he responded to Faust. The orcs ahead shouted their chant, their fists beat at their chest. They chanted in unison with the surrounding humans, everyone around stomping their feet.

    It was a war chant, one that was supposed to prepare everyone for the battle ahead. James looked to the rest of his people, watching as they all joined in. Either from beating their chest or chanting along, nearly everyone around him joined.

    James watched, his heart beating in his chest like a drum. While fear hung its shadow over him and guilt dragged at his feet, James couldn¡¯t help but feel excited. His blood was pumping and his muscles were aching. The prospect of battle was ahead and, with it, the promise of clashing steel and bodies. It was a feeling he was used to, one that always made its presence during his past fights. Yet now it was different. Now he was choosing to go into the fray, to fight and push. For the first time, James was the one raiding.

    He looked to the ships in the waters, his eyes passing over the symbols of Frostbite and the drawn visages of Draugr¡¯s Haunt. Other ships were around as well, some of them being former fishing boats and others captured bandit ships. They all bore the symbol of the raven, as well as the blue paintings of draugrs and ghouls. Falrick was upon Frostbite¡¯s helm, the old Wizard¡¯s eyes meeting with James. They were ready.

    The chanting of the orcs and guards grew louder, their attention now to James as he stood upon the small hill that overlooked the beach. While he couldn¡¯t understand the words of the war chant, nor comprehend the significance of it all, the otherworldly man could still feel the tension and excitement of everyone. The Draugr of the South raised his sword in response to the chants and shouts, his eyes burning with magical energy.

    Tonight was going to be the night where everything changed.

 B.3 Chapter 42: Fly, Ravens!

    Aksel yawned as he kicked over another of the corpses, his spear poking at its ribs. He needed to make sure this bastard was dead already. It would do him no good if he allowed any survivors. The last thing he wanted was to deal with more resistances like the one he and his squad had encountered back in the marketplace.

    ¡°How does Deimos expect us to watch out for ships if this fucking mist is in the way?¡± a fellow marauder, Jakob, called out from the harbor¡¯s edge. ¡°Can barely see shit.¡±

    ¡°Probably for the best,¡± Aksel answered as he stabbed another of the bodies. ¡°If we can¡¯t see shit, that means outsider ships can¡¯t either.¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s the point of sending us here, then?¡± Alexi, another marauder, asked. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be watching the ports, but there¡¯s fuck all to look after.¡±

    Deimos and his right hand, Ivana, had given this particular group of marauders the simple task of clearing out the ports and watching out for outsider ships. It seemed easy enough, but Aksel soon grew bored with the simple job. He wanted to be out in the city, burning buildings down and taking what he wanted. Just like his fellow raiders.

    ¡°You know, even if we did spot an outsider ship, what are we supposed to do?¡± Jakob asked. ¡°We have no call crystals or any way to tell the rest of our guys. This sucks.¡±

    ¡°Maybe they sent us out here to be nothing more than fodder,¡± Alexi agreed.

    ¡°Shut up, the both of you,¡± Aksel called back. ¡°Be glad that Deimos didn¡¯t shove us into the center of this city. It could probably be worse.¡±

    He was sort of right. The marauder knew how dangerous this battle had already become. There was already talk of Lumen soldiers showing up somewhere in the eastern part of the city, which meant that this takeover had turned into a three-way shit show. He counted himself lucky that he wasn¡¯t in the midst of all that chaos.

    ¡®I¡¯d rather have us stay here kicking rocks until the smoke dies down.¡¯

    Aksel was thankful for where he had ended up. By the empty harbor with a sizable group of marauders. He was as safe as he could be.

    ¡°Oh, it could definitely get worse,¡± a triumphant voice called out from behind the marauder. Aksel quickly turned to see another group emerge from the city. He didn¡¯t even notice their arrival because of the thick mist that had made itself present on the docks.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Aksel cursed to himself.

    ¡°I would offer you a chance to surrender, but our orders are to execute anyone non-Lumen on sight,¡± the stranger said. This man wore an orange and blue tabard over chainmail and partial plate, his lack of helmet revealing light brown hair and bluish eyes. He was a Lumen soldier. The ones following him out of the mist were also Lumen, judging from their similarly colored tabards and shiny gear.

    Aksel gulped loudly, his hands reaching for his ax. His men all tensed up at the same as he, their hands reaching for their weapons. Everyone was at a standstill for that moment, their gazes all locked onto each other.

    Aksel took this time to count their odds. The marauder group outnumbered the Lumen bastards three to one. Yet the marauder knew numbers weren¡¯t going to help much when it came to their gear. These men were properly equipped, their armor well maintained and their weapons sharp. Half of Aksel¡¯s group didn¡¯t even wear armor outside the occasional helmet and shield.

    Still¡­ if they could organize together, perhaps there was a chance¡ª

    ¡°Attack!¡± a random marauder, Wheeler by the looks of it, shouted out a war cry before he charged headfirst into the Lumen soldiers. After that, all hel broke loose.

    Aksel prepared himself as he watched his men clash with the soldiers, their weapons flailing around as they shouted incoherently. Surprisingly, Wheeler¡¯s surprise attack had managed to catch the soldiers off-guard, giving them an edge in this fight.

    A couple of the Lumen idiots weren¡¯t wearing helmets, so it gave the marauders a vital chance to take them out with ease. Which was what exactly happened. Not even a minute into the fight and the Lumen side was slowly getting overwhelmed. Perhaps their numbers were enough. Perhaps Aksel had underestimated his own marauders. Maybe they could get out of this alive.

    ¡®Something¡¯s not right¡­¡¯

    Aksel stopped midway through his fight to back up. He stepped away from the battle and surveyed his surroundings. The mist was getting thicker. To where it felt unnatural. Something was wrong.

    ¡®But what is it?¡¯

    The moisture in the air seemed to be much more prevalent. It made him uncomfortable. This fog had been around for far too long. It should have at least dispersed or lessened by now. Yet it only grew in size and intensity.

    It got to where Aksel could taste the air, his tongue clicking as the scent grew much more intense. It almost tasted like¡­ strawberries.

    ¡°It¡¯s a fog spell!¡± Aksel realized aloud. But why would the Lumen bastard cast such a spell? Now that he thought about it¡­

    ¡®Wait.¡¯

    Aksel searched for the battle in front of him. Just as he thought, there was no spellcaster among them. Which meant only one thing.

    ¡°Behind us!¡± Aksel turned to the end of the docks, where the sea was clouded by a thick fog. ¡°We¡¯re being ambus¨C¡±

    He would be cut off as a ship suddenly burst from the fog wall. Its ram crashed into the harbor at full speed, embedding itself in the platform. Aksel fell back from the sheer force of the impact, his body nearly becoming cleaved in half by the ship¡®s ram.

    The marauder had found himself face to face with the visage of burning runes embedded in the ship¡¯s hull, accompanied by the painting of a blue skeleton.

    Men and orcs in mismatched armor jumped down from the deck, their shouts incoherent as they charged forth into the fray before them. Aksel wobbled as he tried to stand, his vision disoriented as he tried to figure out what was going on.

    He watched on as the strange men and orcs fought against his marauders, their weapons cutting them down. Aksel would try to intervene, to shift the battle.

    ¡°Group up! Get to me¡ª¡±

    He was interrupted when a man in steel armor jumped down in front of him. The marauder stared at the man, whose eyes burned a bright blue. Even under the helmet, Aksel could see his skull. Fear engulfed the marauder, but he forced it down quickly. He needed to take this harbor.

    ¡°What are you?!¡± Aksel charged at the man, his sword swinging. The stranger dodged the attack in record speed, almost as if he had perfect reflexes. Aksel tried for another swing, but was interrupted when the man grabbed his arm. Unbearable cold spread from the stranger¡¯s hand, freezing the marauder¡¯s arm in place.

    Aksel tried to pull away, but it would be for naught. The man¡¯s sword came in as a flash of steel, its pointed edge burying itself into his throat. Aksel coughed blood, his eyes watching with fear as the blade was forced deeper. The draugr before him only stared at the marauder, his burning gaze sticking with him to the end.

    <hr>

    James wretched the sword out of the marauder¡¯s throat, his hands shaking as they did so. The body fell to the platform, bloodied and limp. James looked at the surrounding battle, watching as orcs bashed in skulls and guardsmen cut down marauders. He watched one marauder become unceremoniously decapitated by Malik, his hair becoming stained with red as his body fell forward.

    Haggard crushed in the chest of another marauder, his hammer imbued with a Power Strike casting. Helen covered Kate as she gutted a man with her spear, her shield rasing as she blocked an incoming attack. James watched as the fighting slowly died down, the only ones remaining being the people the marauders were fighting against.

    There were only a handful left in their group, half of them injured and the other half barely holding up. James was about to ask them if they were alright before he noticed the emblems they wore on their chests.

    ¡°What the hell?¡± James muttered. His stomach sank at the sight of the phoenix emblem. The same emblem that was supposed to be the coat of arms for soldiers of the Lumen Kingdom.

    ¡®Oh shit.¡¯

    One of the soldiers that was able to stand stared at James with a look that told him he, too, had come to the same realization as he.

    ¡®They aren¡¯t friendly.¡¯

    ¡°Wait¡ª¡±

    The soldier rushed at James with a swipe of his sword, his strike aiming for his neck. James quickly blocked the attack with his shield, the sword bouncing off the vern wood surface. He retaliated with a bash, his allies all coming to assist him.

    James had no choice to talk this out. It was the soldier or him. He could see from his peripherals how his allies clashed with the remaining soldiers, their shouts and screams sounding out into incomprehensible noise.

    The soldier in front of him tried to go for another slash, his sword going for James¡¯ neck. The young Jarl felt his body jerk back from the attack, Faust¡¯s spirit saving him once more. He watched as the sword swung by harmlessly, missing him by a hair.

    James shifted his center of gravity towards his opponent, his sword aimed for a thrust. He could see how the soldier¡¯s eyes widened at the sight, his arm raising in an attempt to block the incoming attack with his steel vambrace.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± James felt his body grow in heat, his ley lines expending the cost of the casting. His sword gained a red hue as it thrust forth, its tip rushing towards the soldier¡¯s own neck. The magically enhanced blade was enough to pierce straight through the steel vambrace, warping the steel as it punched through. His blade only stopped when it met soft throat flesh, pinning the soldier¡¯s arm to his neck.

    ¡°Augh!¡± the soldier gasped out in pain, blood sputtering out of his lips and nostrils. Guttural croaking followed the sound of choking, and James was certain he would never be able to rid of the experience for as long as he lived.

    The young Jarl was silent as he stared into the dying man¡¯s eyes, who stared back with a look of accusation and shock. Almost as if he was asking him why. Without a word, James drew his sword back, ripping its length out of the dead man¡¯s throat and arm. The body fell to the ground unceremoniously, his blood mixing with the pool of red that had collected on the platform.

    This was not James¡¯ first kill, but it still rocked him to his core.

    ¡®You¡¯re going to need to get used to it,¡¯ Faust muttered. ¡®This will not be your last.¡¯

    James was silent as he averted his eyes from the body, his gaze moving to his breastplate. Tucked in between the armor and gambeson was the blossom Iendis had gifted him. He could see how the blackened part slowly grew over the pink.

    ¡®As long as they live,¡¯ he told himself internally.

    ¡°The harbor is ours!¡±

    The cheers of orcs and the yells of guards accompanied Haggard¡¯s shout. They had all finished off the rest of the soldiers, none of whom had surrendered.

    James turned to the ship behind him, his focus on the burning runes that were embedded into it. Back at the island, Falrick had revealed to the clan leader that Frostbite was the host of gate runes, ones that were dormant until the Wizard came along. It was why they were able to reach the city in time.

    As for their surprise attack, Dahlia and Falrick were the ones who had come up with it. Both shaman and Wizard combined their magic and form a much more powerful version of fogcloud, one that could blanket an entire harbor side. James could still feel the whiplash of the gates, his body jet lagged and his knees still wobbling. However, after the harbor engagement, he wasn¡¯t sure if it was a result of the gate or the nerves.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Falrick stepped down from Frostbite¡¯s deck, his hands carrying a staff embedded with a spell gem.

    ¡°Why are there Lumen soldiers here? I thought the marauders were raiding?¡± James asked. He gestured to the bodies of the soldiers they had just killed, their symbols being that of the phoenix.

    ¡°This is new to me as well. When I scried the city, it looked as if both Lumen soldiers and marauders were raiding it,¡± Falrick explained.

    ¡°They¡¯re both here?¡±

    ¡°It seems so. I¡¯m willing to gamble that someone is leading them on.¡± The Wizard gestured to the city ahead. ¡°Someone has orchestrated this and I believe that they¡¯re still in the city.¡±

    ¡°Where do we need to go, then?¡± James asked as he wiped the blood off his sword, his gaze avoiding the ground.

    ¡°There are three main points we¡¯ll need to go,¡± Falrick started, his hand unfurling a roll of parchment. It showcased a rough map of Vindis, points of interest marked with stab marks. It was the same map James had procured back when he had encountered Malik for the first time. ¡°The first is in the gold district, near the center. It is where the totems are controlled. I will need to go there to reactivate them. Second point is a summoning circle somewhere in the iron district. Not sure how it came to be without the use of ley lines, but it is there and is possibly sending more reinforcements through.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s that possible?¡± Dahlia asked. ¡°Summoning circles need a constant connection with ley lines. Anyone who can activate them, regardless, must be a master spellcaster or a god¡¯s champion.¡± The last word perked up Harald, who tensed at the mention.

    ¡°What¡¯s the third point?¡± James asked, trying to hurry it up.

    ¡°Third point is the communication circle in the copper district. I believe it to be a Lumen base. It could be well guarded.¡± Falrick turned to James. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to split up if we want to get this done soon.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go with Falrick to the first point.¡± Dahlia sounded off. ¡°I can help with the totems.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll come with you. Make sure both of you get there safely,¡± Helen added.

    ¡°Good idea.¡± James nodded. ¡°Lilith, Archibald, Harald, go with Falrick and Dahlia to the first point.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going,¡± Harald suddenly answered. ¡°I¡¯m going to the second point. Haggard can take my place.¡± The veteran sounded insistent, his gaze almost burning into James¡¯ skull.

    ¡°Do you need backup?¡±

    ¡°No. I¡¯ll go alone.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going unless you have backup.¡±

    The veteran stopped in his tracks, his teeth visibly grinding. ¡°Fine. Squads one, three, and four! You¡¯re with me!¡± His voice boomed like thunder and the guardsmen quickly moved to follow him.

    James looked at Felix, who sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll go with him, make sure he doesn¡¯t get himself killed.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± James murmured as he watched the archer jog to catch up.

    ¡°As for point three, I¡¯ll be heading there,¡± James called out to Falrick. ¡°Malik, Silas, Horuk, and the orcs will be with me.¡± He turned to the rest of the men around the harbor, the ones who weren¡¯t picked. ¡°Squads two and five will go with Falrick and Dahlia to ensure their safety. Squad six will come with me. As for the rest of you, stay here and search the docks for any survivors.¡±

    The guards all moved to follow his order, most of them with stricken faces of fear. Still, they did their job diligently. James felt his guilt spread as he saw the guardsmen drag off the bodies of allies. James expected there to be deaths, but the sight of it hit him harder than he thought possible.

    ¡®I¡¯m responsible for their deaths.¡¯

    ¡°James,¡± Falrick¡¯s voice called out to him, snapping the blond man out of his thoughts. ¡°There¡¯s something I need to tell you.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± James furrowed his brow, almost scared to see the Wizard so worried.

    ¡°When I scried Vindis, I caught something unusual. Someone who didn¡¯t belong. I thought for a second it was you, but after focusing, I realized it was coming from the slums.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± James could feel his heart sink.

    ¡°There is someone like you here in Vindis, one that is hiding out in the Lumen base you¡¯re going to.¡±

    <hr>

    Deimos looked up at the sky, watching how the smoke rose and collected into blackened clouds. The taste of ash and rain was in the air, and it was almost intoxicating for the marauder. He grinned as he looked ahead, his gaze focusing on the bloodied street. Marauders were burning and pillaging the city, taking what they wanted and destroying what they could. Deimos cared little for the destruction. The platforms were the only things that mattered and even then; he was only planning on taking the center of the city. The rest of Vindis could burn and sink for all he cared.

    Ivana was somewhere in a different district of the city, her focus being on taking care of the Lumen soldiers that had appeared on the north-eastern sides. Deimos sent her off along with Cecil to investigate. Still, he doubted they¡¯d find the Lumen spies who brought them here. Lumen dogs were clever like that. They hide and scamper away, only coming out when the time is right and victory is absolute. The thing was, however, Deimos was not so easily fooled nor wronged. He was dead set on finding the bastard who had summoned the Lumen soldiers and showing him the errors of his plan.

    The Red Death stopped for a moment, his focus moving to the spire at the center of the city. Eli was over there, using his talents to keep the totems dormant. The marauders were also burning half the city down, their supplied runes more than enough to get the job done. A few Lumen rats wouldn¡¯t make much of a difference anyway.

    ¡°Just need to capture the center and all will be done,¡± Deimos muttered to himself. Once the city was his, the marauders will have their own floating fortress.

    ¡°You there! Stop!¡± a voice called out. Deimos raised an eyebrow, his focus broken. He turned to the source, which was a young man in leather armor. He wasn¡¯t alone either. This man had an entire party, which comprised a mage, archer, and a spearman. The one who yelled looked to be their vanguard, his purpose being to fill the gaps in their dynamic. They were adventurers, possibly from Azurvale, judging from the blue eyes and lightish brown hair.

    The Red Death stepped forward, his hand gesturing for the surrounding marauders to back off. ¡°How cute.¡± He chuckled.

    ¡°We¡¯re not afraid of you!¡± The vanguard shouted as he brandished his sword.

    ¡°You have some balls, I¡¯ll give you that,¡± Deimos admitted. ¡°But courage can only get you so far¡­¡± The chieftain equipped his long ax, its silver edge glinting in the light of the flames. The vanguard seemed to hesitate for a moment, but he rushed ahead, his mage casting a buff soon after.

    ¡°Carapa¨C!¡±

    ¡°Arcane Bolt!¡±

    Deimos interrupted the mage with a spell of his own, his left hand forming the rune. The purple bolt formed and shot off before any of the adventurers could react. It whizzed through the air like an arrow before colliding with the mage¡¯s arm. The magical bolt sent bits of flesh and viscera flying, leaving the young woman with a mangled arm. Her scream was enough to make the vanguard falter, his head turning back to the party member.

    ¡°Don¡¯t lose your focus!¡± Deimos shouted as he lunged forward. His ax swung at the young man, its edge cutting through the air at incredible speed. He never had a chance.

    Deimos¡¯ ax buried itself into the vanguard¡¯s unarmored head, sending bits of brain and skull everywhere. The party nearby all stumbled back in surprise, their faces stricken with fear and horror. Deimos wretched the ax out of the man¡¯s skull, his boot kicking the corpse back.

    ¡°Too weak,¡± he muttered. Deimos turned back to the rest of the adventuring party, who all stared at him in silent terror. The Red Death shook his head as he chuckled, his left hand moving up to clean the viscera that was stuck on his helmet.

    ¡°How disappointing.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°He¡¯s here?¡± Arthur raised an eyebrow at the sorcerer.

    ¡°Yes, James Holter is in the city. He somehow found out.¡± The spellcaster sighed and stood up from his kneeling position. The rune circle around him turned dark, signifying that its magic was dead. ¡°This is exhausting Clarke. I cannot solely perform rituals with only my ley lines. I need Azura¡¯s natural connection.¡±

    ¡°I know. It is a tiring task,¡± Arthur muttered. ¡°However, you need to keep it up. Your reserves are higher than the others and the men out there need guidance. The marauders are getting closer to the center. Once they¡¯re there, this battle will be at its end and we can go home.¡±

    ¡°What about the Outlander?¡± The sorcerer asked.

    Arthur hesitated for a moment before he answered. ¡°I can take care of him, but not now. I need to be careful with how I go about it.¡± The Outlander instinctively grabbed at his sword¡¯s guard, his thoughts going back to that golden bitch and her heavenly words. ¡°I need time to set up,¡± he added in a murmur.

    ¡°Clarke!¡± Lydia¡¯s voice called out to the Outlander.

    Arthur sighed and turned to meet the witch. ¡°It can wait until after we¡¯re done here,¡± he called out.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care about that!¡± Lydia shouted. ¡°Deimos is in the fucking city! He¡¯s traveling through the silver district as we speak.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to take care of him once he gets to the center,¡± Arthur explained.

    ¡°He needs to be killed now!¡± Lydia insisted. ¡°He¡¯ll see through your plan and he¡¯ll back out! You need to kill him now!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not doing that.¡± Arthur shook his head. ¡°He¡¯ll fall into our trap, regardless if he finds out about it.¡±

    ¡°Are you delusional?¡± Lydia asked in disbelief. She shook her head before turning around. ¡°Damn you and the gods! I¡¯ll take care of him myself!¡± The witch walked off, leaving the Outlander and sorcerer alone.

    ¡°She¡¯s going to get herself killed,¡± the sorcerer mumbled. ¡°Would it be so wise to allow her to face off against Deimos alone? If he catches a sense of what we¡¯re doing, he might call his marauders off or worse, hunt us down.¡± The aged man¡¯s words gave the Outlander some thought.

    He rubbed at his chin, his frown turning into a scowl.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Arthur answered. ¡°Vanguard squad.¡± The Outlander looked to the nearby group of Lumen Knights.

    They had been the squad sent by the capital to assist Arthur in his mission. The four knights were said to be some of the new blood, their skill enough to gain admiration from the goddess herself. Handpicked by Commander Michaels himself, these knights¡¯ purpose was to seek Deimos and kill him.

    ¡°Accompany the witch and assist her in killing Deimos,¡± Arthur ordered

    ¡°This soon? Before he reaches the center?¡± One knight asked.

    Arthur shook his head. ¡°Lydia is going to fuck this up if she attacks him this early. I¡¯m sending you to make sure she doesn¡¯t.¡±

    The lead knight nodded and gestured for the rest to move. Before long, the group of knights were off, on their way to cross off one of the most dangerous men in Valenfrost.

    <hr>

    Johan sprinted to the next tunnel, his arm hurting like all hell. He had been shot by a marauder archer back on the surface. The young thief was lucky to be alive. The city was going to hel, and everything they were doing was failing. Any sensible man would have given up. But Johan was not sensible, and he was certainly not without hope. The thief had heard word of soldiers and orcs arriving at the harbor, their swords cutting down Lumen forces like nothing.

    Johan would have dismissed it as more marauders or raiders, that is, before he heard of what they wore. According to the scouts, the soldiers all bore the symbol of the white raven and were led by a terrifying man with undead eyes. Johan could feel an ounce of hope flair up in his chest at the thought. Holter was here, and he had brought his forces to help fight the marauders and Lumen bastards off.

    The thief skidded to a stop, his ears picking up the sounds of talking in the other tunnel. He quickly brandished his dagger, his head turning to the source.

    ¡®Did they find their way into the passageways?¡¯ He thought in terror. Johan stepped back, pressing his body against the wall of the tunnel. He listened to the voices, contemplating whether he should use his Shadow Step. The thief only had three castings left and wanted to save them for emergencies.

    ¡°How much longer until we make it?¡±

    ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be too long¡­¡±

    The voices were muttering, their volume almost to a whisper. Johan furrowed his brow, leaning in to listen much more intently.

    ¡°Seamus, we¡¯ve been walking through these winding tunnels forever. Time is not on our side here!¡±

    ¡®Seamus?¡¯

    Johan blinked in surprise.

    ¡®It¡¯s them! That guy and dwarf that came from Holter¡¯s clan!¡¯

    The thief peeked from the corner, confirming his suspicions.

    As expected, Seamus and that dwarf Bjorn were there, followed by a group of strangers. Johan didn¡¯t recognize them at first, but his memory soon clicked when he saw that pointed hat. It was that weird Wizard, the one that hid deep in the silver district¡¯s back streets. Nathan Arkanus was the name that popped in his head. The Wizard had a group of gnomes following him, as well as an old dwarf with graying hair.

    The Wizard stopped in his walk, his eyes narrowing as he turned to Johan¡¯s position. The thief instinctually pulled back into the shadows, his quick action enough to catch the Wizard¡¯s ire.

    ¡°Hey! You! Come out!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m friendly!¡± Johan quickly yelled back before he stepped out. He raised his empty hand, his left one unfortunately too hurt to move.

    ¡°It¡¯s you,¡± Seamus sighed in relief.

    ¡°You do not know how glad I am to see you,¡± Johan admitted in a breath. ¡°It¡¯s been a nonstop shit show since those damned marauders and Lumen soldiers showed up.¡±

    ¡°Lumen?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know¡­?¡± Johan stared at the young man. ¡°Lumen soldiers are in the city. They¡¯ve been completely dominating the east side of the city whilst the marauders decimate the western side.¡±

    Seamus stared at the thief, all the color in his face draining. ¡°They¡¯re here? Oh, gods¡­¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s some good news,¡± Johan added right after to quell Seamus¡¯ fears. He could swear the young man was about to faint out of shock. ¡°There are witnesses that say your leader made a landing at the southern docks! He brought his soldiers to fight the marauders and Lumen invaders off!¡±

    The entire group before Johan all stopped dead in their tracks. Nathan and his group of gnomes looked shocked and surprised. Seamus¡¯ own expression was the same as before, his eyes staring at the thief in disbelief.

    Bjorn, on the other hand, laughed heartily. ¡°That man is insane! He¡¯s here! He actually made it here!¡± The dwarf turned to Seamus, his hand smacking the young man in the back. ¡°James is coming, Seamus! He¡¯s going to save us and send those marauders back to the shithole they came from!¡±

    While the dwarf was merry and excited, Seamus looked the opposite. ¡°Johan¡­¡± the young man started. ¡°Where is he? Where is James now?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure, I just heard it in passing while I was on my way to the guild¡­ Markov might kno¨C¡±

    ¡°Then take us to Markov, now.¡± Seamus stepped up to the thief, his hand grabbing the man¡¯s collar. ¡°We need to regroup with them as soon as possible. Otherwise, they are all going to die. Do you understand?¡±

 B.3 Chapter 43: End Times

    Dimitri Palov peeked from his hiding spot. The marauders were nowhere to be seen, nor were any of the Lumen soldiers. The shipmaster slowly crept out, his head craning to look around again. No sign of life.

    ¡°It¡¯s clear,¡± he muttered out to the nearby disposals. Liam and some of the crew stepped out of their respective hiding spots, their clothes stained with grease and other fluids the man didn¡¯t want to think. The shipmaster climbed out of the garbage collector that was tucked in the alleyway''s corner.

    ¡°Where do we go?¡± Liam asked as he picked off the pieces of trash that stuck on his clothes.

    ¡°We find Seamus and Bjorn, regroup with them,¡± Dimitri answered. There was no better option for them. When the marauders raided, they had cut off transportation for the entire city. Those bastards had destroyed the ship Dimitri¡¯s crew used to get here. Escaping was also a risk, since Lumen soldiers and marauders were searching the docks for anyone trying to escape. It was a miracle Dimitri was still alive. As for his men, he wasn¡¯t so sure. Half the crew was with him, as the other half separated soon after the raid began. Dimitri had some hope they were still alive, but he felt a pit grow in his stomach whenever he spotted the bodies scattered in the streets. While he could always check them to see if he recognized them, he was too scared to confirm it himself.

    ¡°This is insane. We¡¯re not going to live through this,¡± one man spoke out in a shaking voice. He was visibly terrified, his knees almost buckling.

    ¡°Calm yourself.¡± Dimitri turned to the younger man. ¡°This is nothing to us. We¡¯ve been through hel and back, remember?¡± The shipmaster grabbed the crewmate by the shoulders. ¡°Once we regroup with the others, we¡¯ll figure out a way out of here.¡±

    ¡°Will Seamus and Bjorn be enough?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re more than enough. Both men have survived worse, my friend.¡± Dimitri gave the crewmate a reassuring grin.

    The young man nodded slowly. ¡°Alright¡­¡±

    ¡°Good. Now let us head off.¡± The shipmaster patted the man¡¯s shoulder before he turned to Liam.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± The wheelman asked. ¡°Seamus didn¡¯t exactly tell us where they were heading.¡±

    ¡°I have an idea where they might go,¡± Dimitri admitted as he peeked out into the main streets.

    ¡°Markov¡¯s place?¡± The ginger asked.

    ¡°You know me so well.¡± Dimitri chuckled. ¡°From what I remember, there is a passage hidden in the ¡®Drunken Draugr¡¯. If we can make it there, I can lead us to the guild¡¯s base.¡±

    ¡°If we make it,¡± Liam reiterated.

    ¡°Have some faith in me, Liam,¡± Dimitri dug into his tunic, his hand pulling out a wrapped dagger. ¡°I¡¯ve never steered you wrong, have I?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve steered me into some questionable fights and dangerous waters,¡± the wheelman pointed out as he grabbed a formidable piece of debris to use as a weapon.

    ¡°Perhaps, but we¡¯ve always come out on top,¡± the shipmaster said.

    ¡°Maybe. Then again, tonight is feeling like the end times¡­¡±

    <hr>

    Dahlia followed Helen¡¯s lead. The ex-marauder was much more experienced in this type of situation, especially since she had once taken part in raids like this. The shaman stopped when Helen did, watching as the older woman surveyed the area. She gestured to the group, her hand signs signaling for them to move back. Dahlia did so without hesitation, her body turning around to head towards the near alleyway. Everyone else followed her lead, most of the guards pressing themselves against the wall to allow some space to move.

    Helen was the last to join in, her head still peeking out. ¡°Marauder group. Looks like they¡¯re heading north,¡± she muttered.

    ¡°Can we take them?¡± Archibald asked.

    ¡°Terrible question,¡± Haggard chuckled as he brandished his hammer. ¡°The real question you should ask is, is it worth the fight?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± Helen answered immediately after. ¡°They¡¯re not a problem or a threat. Better to conserve our castings and stamina and let them pass.¡±

    Lilith squirmed in the packed alleyway, her nose sniffing the air. Dahlia stared at the berserker, who furrowed her brow at the smell of the air.

    ¡°What¡¯s with her?¡± Elaine asked.

    The shaman almost jumped at the sound of the bard¡¯s voice. ¡°When did you come with us?¡± Dahlia asked in surprise. She soon got her answer when she set her gaze upon the bard. Elaine was equipped with a guardsmen tabard, half of her head covered by the bucket helmet she wore.

    ¡°I wanted to see you all in battle!¡± Elaine whispered a quiet shout. ¡°So I snuck with you all.¡±

    ¡°You idiot!¡± Helen hissed. ¡°This isn¡¯t a place someone like you should be in! You can get yourself killed!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me,¡± Elaine protested as she shifted. The bard pulled out the lute from underneath her cloak. ¡°I can buff you all with my magic, I swear!¡±

    ¡°Lute magic?¡± Dahlia questioned. ¡°That¡¯s an actual thing?¡± She had heard of the prospect of bards using magic, but the practice was rare. To where magic users like Dahlia doubted its existence. Yet now, it seemed like Elaine was a bard gifted with the ability to use music and magic simultaneously.

    ¡°I can use basic buffs and physical castings,¡± Elaine admitted. ¡°Granted, not as powerful as a mage or Wizard.¡±

    ¡°It might be useful¡­¡± Falrick muttered.

    ¡°Just keep to the back of the group and keep out of the way,¡± Helen spoke up. ¡°We can¡¯t be bothered to protect you if we get into a skirmish.¡±

    ¡°Got it!¡± Elaine nodded quickly. ¡°I¡¯ll keep out your hair!¡±

    ¡°Alright, shut it,¡± Helen growled as she waved off the bard. As the veteran watched the street, Dahlia turned to focus on Lilith once more. However, the berserker was no longer next to her.

    ¡°What the¡­? Lilith?!¡± The shaman looked around, searching for the red-haired woman.

    She would find her, but not in the way she hoped for. Lilith was out on the other side of the street, the berserker on all fours as she slowly crept into a side street.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Dahlia shifted and struggled to leave the alleyway, her hands pushing Helen aside.

    ¡°Hey!¡± the veteran called out, but her tone changed once she saw what the shaman saw. ¡°Oh, shit!¡±

    Dahlia made sure to look ahead of the street to make sure no enemies were around. Thankfully, the street was empty. The shaman ran to the other side, trying to stop Lilith. She was too slow as the young berserker rushed off into the side street.

    Dahlia turned to Helen. ¡°I¡¯ll get her! You keep moving! I¡¯ll try to meet up with you later!¡± She called out before she headed off to follow the berserker.

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    Lilith was quick, her figure scurrying and sprinting throughout the backstreets. Dahlia wasn¡¯t sure what caught the young woman¡¯s attention, but she was sure it was going to get them both killed if she continued to run any longer.

    ¡°Lilith!¡± she hissed, trying to get her attention. Lilith skidded to a stop, her head raising in a moment¡¯s notice. Dahlia was at first relieved that her words reached the strange woman, but that relief soon went away once Lilith sprinted off. She was heading to a nearby building, its scorched roof and broken windows showing it as having been raided. The half burnt banner signified it as a merchant¡¯s guild.

    The shaman was confused at the young woman¡¯s interest in this destroyed building. Its walls were still burning and half its interior was caved in. Yet Lilith ran towards it, her feet propelling her to the alleyway beside it. The berserker would stop right when she reached the shadows, however, her body suddenly jumping back. Right when she did so, a cloaked man appeared out of nowhere, his hand holding a dagger.

    Dahlia panicked, her hands forming runes.

    ¡°Wind Wall!¡±

    Right when the cloaked man reached the red-haired woman, a gust of wind pushed through, throwing him back into the alleyway.

    ¡°Agh! Fuck!¡± He shouted out. Dahlia ran to Lilith, her hand extending to prevent the berserker from attacking the cloaked man. Once she was close enough, the shaman confirmed her suspicion. The man in front of her was a thief, his dark green cloak and boots giving him away. She recalled James¡¯ description of them and how he was able to tell them apart.

    The thief before her groaned and shifted, his dagger still poised to attack.

    ¡°We¡¯re friendly!¡± Dahlia shouted at the man, her hand gesturing to the white raven painted on her and Lilith¡¯s armor. The thief blinked and looked at the shaman.

    ¡°You¡¯re with the Draugr? Freyja¡¯s mercy¡­ I didn¡¯t think he actually came.¡± The man moved to stand. ¡°We actually have one of your men in our hideout. He came to us with a group of his own.¡±

    ¡°He did?¡± Dahlia furrowed her brow in confusion.

    ¡®That¡¯s not right. James and Harald are off in the eastern part of the city. Unless¡­¡¯

    ¡°Seamus?¡± Dahlia suddenly muttered in realization. Lilith perked up at the word, her gaze moving to the shaman. The berserker couldn¡¯t speak, but her hands still moved to communicate. While the shaman couldn¡¯t understand it, she could very well recognize the universal symbol for ¡®Here¡¯.

    ¡°Yes! That was his name,¡± the thief confirmed.

    ¡°Where is he?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°He¡¯s back in the hideout, talking with Markov.¡±

    ¡°Take us to him now.¡±

    <hr>

    Dimitri crept through the passageway, his head turning to check the corner. It was clear, like usual.

    ¡°I never knew these existed,¡± Liam murmured behind him.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t,¡± Dimitri started as he walked. ¡°These tunnels and passageways snake their way throughout most of the city¡¯s platforms. They mainly exist for the thieves to transport contraband and stolen goods.¡± The shipmaster held his makeshift torch out, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. He counted the steps under his breath, recalling the times he would be taken to the guild.

    Dimitri had a history with Markov. He had lost count of the times he was taken from the tavern and transported through the passageways. However, every time, he would count the steps and turns he had taken. The thieves never bothered to try to disorient him, since the shipmaster was always drunk whenever he was abducted. Thankfully for Dimitri, being drunk did nothing to hamper his memory.

    The shipmaster stopped again at a turn, his head craning to the next tunnel. He counted his steps again. As he reached the fifth one, a loud sound boomed right above them. Dimitri stopped and looked at the ceiling, which rocked and shook.

    ¡°Fireball runes,¡± he realized aloud. ¡°They¡¯re getting closer to the center of the city.¡± While the marauders were spread out, most of them were made up of hired bandits and raiders, set on looting and having their fun. They wore barely any protection, most of it gambeson or shoddy mail.

    The ones that wore the black armor were the most dangerous ones. Hand picked by Deimos and his inner circle themselves, those men were given runes and competent weapons. They were in the eastern part of the city, possibly in the north as well, judging from what Dimitri picked up on their conversations. They were focused on burning and clearing, making sure none survived and no stone was left unturned.

    ¡°We should hurry,¡± Dimitri called to his men as he hurried his steps.

    ¡°Why? They can¡¯t get to us down here, right?¡±

    ¡°These tunnels were made for smuggling. Not for a full scaled attack. If any of those Fireball runes even hit off-target, we¡¯ll be exposed.¡± That seemed to do the trick. The men all went quiet, their focus on the shaking ceiling and the loud sounds of fighting.

    Dimitri turned around and returned to his counting of steps. He needed to be quick. If any of those marauders or soldiers found the tunnels, every thief in this city was screwed.

    <hr>

    ¡°Ember Strike!¡±

    Flames and heat encircled William¡¯s blade, its edge cutting through the marauder like a hot iron through snow. The herald watched as the savage¡¯s upper half split apart with effort, sending specks of red everywhere. Without hesitation, he directed the heated blade to the next marauder. This one had better armor, however, and so William¡¯s sword only merely gashed the man¡¯s shoulder.

    The marauder recoiled back from the attack, his scream accompanying him as he tried to gain distance. William rushed him in response. He refused to take cowardice as an answer.

    ¡°Ember Strike!¡± His casting enhanced his sword with flames and embers once more, giving it power as it swung down on the marauder¡¯s skull. The strike split the poor bastard¡¯s head in half, despite the steel helm protecting it. More blood sizzled and sprayed across the herald, but he did not care.

    This was the second wave of marauders so far, and William was feeling sluggish from the fighting. He looked back to the summoning circle he had formed, the same one that he used to summon the soldiers from the capital. Its runes were dead now, but the herald only needed to force his own natural ley lines to make it work. A tiring task, but a necessary one.

    ¡°It looks to be the last of them,¡± one of the nearby soldiers breathed out in relief.

    ¡°Don¡¯t rest now. There might be more coming,¡± William called out. He was regretting not saving a detachment of reinforcements for himself. The champion only had an eight-man group of soldiers to help him defend the summoning circle. Every other reinforcement that came from the circle either went to the center of the city or to the southern docks. William looked down at the marauder bodies around him. While most were unarmored, resembling more like raiders and bandits rather than actual marauders, a couple had decent gear such as gambeson and mail. It signified to William that these men were making their way to the iron district and, soon, the center of the city.

    ¡®I should retreat soon, before this spot gets overrun.¡¯

    William knew his orders were to defend the spot, no matter the cost. Arthur had drilled it into his head that the summoning circle was also an escape route, just in case everything went south. William pondered on sending a spell crystal message to the Outlander, to let him know the marauders were pushing through the iron district.

    ¡°Sir! More enemies!¡±

    Before he could make that decision, the men had called out to him. The champion turned around, expecting to see more marauders. Instead, he was met with the gaze he didn¡¯t expect after all this time. Despite the armor and the helmet hiding half his face, William could never forget the stature and eyes of that man. The same man who had forsaken the Lumen Kingdom all those years ago.

    Harald Stroud took a step towards William, the simple act more than enough to cause the herald¡¯s men to move.

    William raised a hand to them, stopping the soldiers in their tracks. ¡°Stop. This is my fight,¡± he called out. His men stared at him with wild looks, confusion clear on their expressions. William ignored them. They did not understand.

    ¡°I would have never expected to find you here¡­ Fighting for the Draugr, nonetheless.¡± William gestured to the white raven painted on the other man¡¯s chest piece.

    ¡°Stop this, William,¡± Harald suddenly spoke out. His voice sounded rougher now. Like he had gravel in his throat. ¡°Call off these men. There¡¯s been enough bloodshed.¡±

    ¡°You would like that, won¡¯t you?¡± William chuckled. ¡°You and your bastardized Jarl. He did this to the city!¡± The champion gestured around. ¡°He¡¯s the reason it must burn!¡±

    Harald blinked at the accusations. He took a step forward. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°I read the reports of Gryff Brenwick!¡± William shouted. He recalled the knight¡¯s report. The details of the source and everything related to the fracture.

    ¡°William¡­¡± The old man furrowed his brow. ¡°Gryff was a maniac bent on killing innocents who had nothing to do with the fracture!¡±

    ¡°Do not besmirch his name!¡± William felt his anger build up. Despite his naturally calm mentality, seeing Stroud had somehow undone it all. The past was still raw in his memories. ¡°Gryff Brenwick and Hugo Ardel were Delphine¡¯s chosen! They would not do such things without reason. Even if what you say is true, then what of the Draugr you follow so blindly? He¡¯s done worse! He shattered the ley lines, for Delphine¡¯s sake! Doomed our world to horrors!¡±

    ¡°William, we can help you fix it!¡± Harald argued. ¡°Just stand your men down and help us fend off the marauders. If you can do that, we can fix the ley lines.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand¡­¡± William shook his head as he cleaned his sword. The runes on its steel burned with life, almost itching to for a fight. ¡°There will be no peace with the Lumen Kingdom and the Outlander who threatens Azura!¡±

 B.3 Chapter 44: Good Intentions

    James stood in the alleyway, his gaze moving to the smoke filled sky. It was slowly darkening, signifying to the man that night time was soon to approach.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡± Silas asked in a low voice.

    James wiped the sweat from his brow before he placed the helmet on. ¡°No killing. Not unless it is absolutely necessary,¡± he ordered. The orc nodded to the request, his hand signaling to the hidden orcs. Across from the alleyway was the town hall Falrick had designated as point three. Lumen soldiers stood guard, their blue and yellow tabards making them stand out in the slums. Archers and lookouts were perched on the building¡¯s second story, their bows and glasses visible from afar.

    Arrows shot out of nowhere, their tips hitting the men¡¯s arms and legs. They were non lethal, however, as their needle-like tips were doused in modified sea-serpent venom. The diluted poison was enough to knock a grown man out, but not enough to kill him fully.

    Some soldiers were still awake, a result of their gambesons and armor. Still, all the orcs needed to do was shoot them again. The soldiers below the lookouts would soon notice the commotion above them, but their attention would be short-lived. Orcs rushed out of nearby buildings and alleyways, their clubs knocking the men out in quick succession.

    It all transpired in less than a minute, leaving the building undefended. Still, James would have to be na?ve to believe the town hall had no more soldiers inside.

    ¡°Malik, it¡¯s your turn,¡± he muttered. The necromancer stepped up, his hand carrying a purplish gem that glowed brightly. From what James was told, it was a soul gem, one that trapped the spirits of the deceased. Malik had siphoned said spirits from the dead soldiers at the harbor. James could only watch in disdain as the necromancer chanted and formed his runes.

    Slowly, the gem brightened its glow. It soon leaked black smoke and wisps of energy, all of it compiling into the ground. James watched as the black fog formed and spread, its reach going out into the street. Twelve figures formed out of the fog, their bodies transparent and wispy at first. They reminded James of the mist clones Nathan used. They continued to grow and transform, soon developing bones and armor. In the end, despite being made up of black fog and purple wisps of magic, the specters resembled the soldiers and marauders from back in the harbor.

    Well, they almost did. Their skulls were still visible, black wisps of smoke steaming from the bones and cracks. The only sense of life they had left were the purple pinpricks of light that stood in for the eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s a shame I couldn¡¯t take all the Lumen soldiers¡¯ souls. Delphine enchants all her believers against any form of dark magic,¡± Malik sighed.

    James ignored him, his attention solely on the defiled spirits of the damned. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you¡¯ve faced a terrible fate,¡± James muttered to the specters.

    ¡°Believe me, life in servitude is a better one than one in Helheim.¡± Malik chuckled. ¡°Now, my draugr, are you ready for the next step in your plan?¡±

    James nodded and stepped into the open street. He didn¡¯t have to look to see Malik casting his specters forward. The abominable spirits grabbed at the Jarl, their ethereal hands cold to the touch and presence harrowing. They lifted him up and flew the blond man to the second floor of the building before they returned to Malik. James took a deep breath, his mind going to what Falrick and told him.

    One of the Earthlings was here. James knew it could be any of them, but he was betting it was Arthur. Iendis had told him that the man was a Lumen apostle. James had no doubt that the Lumen kingdom was looking to retaliate for what James did. For his part in fracturing the ley lines and killing Gryff and Hugo. It made the man wonder if they were also looking to sink Vindis because of his connection to the Thieves Guild. Whatever the reason, he needed to stop it. If he could get the Lumen soldiers to focus on the marauders, he could change the course of this fight.

    ¡®I need to speak with him, to stop this before it gets worse.¡¯

    James looked at Malik and Silas, who awaited his signal. What he was about to do was far from easing tensions, but it was needed so he could speak with the Earth summoned man. James gave his signal, his hand swiping at the air. With that, the orc leader blew his horn, and the specters rushed to the building.

    <hr>

    Gwenyth panted as she bandaged the last of her wounds. Marauders were getting bolder. Where she had initially expected them to come from the west, more had come from the north. They were planning to attack the center from all around, catching any hold up resistances off guard. The elf winced as she tied the bandage around her bleeding leg. She was good enough to kill scores of the bastards, but her skill wasn¡¯t enough to hold off an ambush from all sides.

    She was close to the slums, to where Arthur was holed up. The elf still didn¡¯t know what to do or what to say. Yet she knew that this had to stop. The people of Vindis city weren¡¯t the best of souls, but not even they deserved to be raided by the fucking Marauders of the North. The elf quickly pressed herself against the wall, her eyes watching armored soldiers running past. They were rushing off to the slums.

    ¡°Get to the base now!¡± An ethereal sounding voice shouted out. Gwenyth guessed it was coming from their spell crystals.

    ¡°We¡¯re hurrying right now!¡± one soldier answered in a hurry, his gauntlet bringing the glowing crystal to his mouth.

    ¡°Hurry faster! We have invaders here! They¡¯re trying to breach through the hall!¡±

    Gwenyth caught the communications with her hearing. The elf blinked in surprise at what she heard. It sounded like the town hall was being invaded. Marauders were the first thing that came to mind, but even that seemed slim. Most of the marauders were in the north and western parts of the city. None had reached the inner slums yet. So why was the town hall being attacked?

    The elf decided to find out for herself as she hurried to tail the running soldiers.

    <hr>

    ¡°Specters on the street! They¡¯re protecting the damned orcs!¡± a soldier called out to the inside of the building.

    Eilif sighed and looked back at where the courtyard was located, it was thankfully evacuated. The mage would have to take his magic to the safe room. As for the bounty hunter and the other soldiers, they were just fodder until Arthur could figure out what to do. The apostle wanted the bounty hunter to hold off the attackers until a proper counter attack was available.

    Eilif peeked into the street, his gaze on the attacking orcs. They were loosing arrows at the soldiers, their marks hitting remarkably well.

    ¡°Looks like we¡¯re dealing with much more competent orcs than the ones in the south,¡± the bounty hunter muttered to himself. He looked to the soldier next to him. ¡°Hold them off, but don¡¯t take the offensive.¡±

    ¡°What! Why?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an order,¡± Eilif simply said as he walked into the building.

    He dug into his pockets, his gloved hand bringing out a spell crystal. While not connected to ley lines, crystal was still working thanks to the holy mage. While it won¡¯t work for long, Eilif made the most of it.

    ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± he asked the crystal.

    ¡°Gate runes won¡¯t work if the ley lines are cut off. Without William, we¡¯ll have to evacuate to the ship,¡± Arthur¡¯s voice emanated from the magical tool.

    ¡°Marauders must have destroyed it by now. We left it in the northern harbor, remember?¡± Eilif reminded him.

    ¡°It¡¯s hidden. I¡¯ve made sure of it just in case,¡± Arthur assured.

    Eilif chuckled. ¡°You think of everything, don¡¯t you, Clarke?¡±

    ¡°Just hold the fucking orcs off. I¡¯ll get ready for the departure of the mages.¡±

    ¡°You should leave with them. Holter and Deimos are still in the city, but I can take care of them.¡±

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°They are mine and mine alone. You just stay in the back line and support.¡±

    With that, Arthur cut his communications. Eilif chuckled and tossed the crystal to the ground. He stomped on the magic tool, destroying it. It was going to be useless in a few minutes anyway.

    <hr>

    James snuck through the building, his eyes peering into the rooms. No one. It was eerie in a sense, being alone in a place with little to no signs of life. He turned around in the hall he came from. Like before, not a single soul in sight.

    ¡®James. Listen,¡¯ Faust¡¯s voice called out to the blond man. James closed his eyes, focusing on the ambience of the building. At first, he only heard the sounds of fighting outside and the banging of feet on the first floor.

    However, the more he focused, the more sophisticated the sounds became. Slowly but surely, he focused on one particular voice amongst the shouts and screams.

    ¡°Squad Talon, move to the gold district! Meet up with Squad Raptor and regroup! Squads York, Arth, and Sol, come to base, now! We are under attack! Orcs and specters are outside! We need assistance now!¡±

    ¡°Communications,¡± James muttered. He had found it. The clan leader hurried to the stairs, his feet hopping over two steps at a time. He rushed to the door where the voice was coming from, his ears picking up more shouts.

    ¡°Arthur, we need to leave now! It is only a matter of time before they breach our defense!¡± James stopped in his tracks, his body tensing up at the name. He was only a couple of meters away from the two doors that led into a seemingly larger room. ¡°Arthur! We can¡¯t stay here any longer! We need to go, now!¡±

    There it was again. The name of the second Outlander. James swallowed before he took a step towards the doors. His left hand slowly went to his chest piece, where his blossom was hidden. He took one more peek. The black had stopped its spread. It now stayed at the halfway point. The blond man looked to the doors once more. He took a deep breath, his hand gently grabbing at the knob. James would need to be very careful of what he was going to say. If he messed this up, thousands of lives would be lost.

    ¡®It¡¯s now or never.¡¯

    With a deep breath, the man from Earth stepped through the doors.

    The room was spacious. There were no tables or chairs. Instead, there was a drawn runic circle on the ground, a large window behind it that allowed the bluish light of the two moons. The circle glowed with magical energy, its user standing at its center. It was a middle-aged man he had never seen before, his hood drawn back to showcase his balding head and overgrown goatee. James blinked at the sight of the lone man, his gaze surveying the room once more. The sorcerer was the only other person here.

    James raised a hand, his mouth opening to say something. However, the sorcerer didn¡¯t let him finish.

    ¡°Arcane Bolt!¡± The man¡¯s fingers formed a rune, its magical energy sparking to life. James felt the world around him stop, his body turning hot as Faust forced him to dodge. The blond man fell to the ground just as a blue bolt of energy struck the doors behind him.

    ¡®Move your ass, now!¡¯ Faust shouted internally. James quickly sprang to his feet, avoiding another bolt of energy.

    ¡°Insolent bastard! Arcane Bolt!¡± The stranger formed the rune once more, firing the blue projectile at James.

    James quickly unhitched his shield from his back, his arm bringing it up in time. The bolt collided with the wood, its strength almost bursting through. Thankfully, this piece of equipment was made of vern wood, a keepsake from Aldren¡¯s armory. Still, the recoil was enough to make his arm numb. James pushed through regardless, heading his way to the frightened man.

    ¡°I come in peace! I¡¯m not here to¡ª!¡±

    ¡°Needle Shot!¡±

    This time, a much sharper projectile flew at James. He blocked it with the shield, but the needle-like spell pierced through. It only made it halfway through the wood, but it was more than enough for James to seriously rethink his strategy.

    ¡°Carapace!¡± His physical casting made itself present, its warm touch wrapping around his body. Thinking of a quick plan, James rushed at the sorcerer. If he could incapacitate the man, he could explain to him his intentions and reasoning. That was the only way this could end peacefully.

    James kept running at the man, despite the multiple needle shots hitting his shield and grazing his arm and armor. Still, he pressed on. He could deal with the wounds later. James would soon make it to the sorcerer in due time, his shield lowering at the last second. James reached for the spellcaster, his left hand reaching out to grab the man¡¯s arms. He just needed to restrain him with his ice. Cuffs and shackles would do the trick.

    ¡°Summon I¨C¡±

    The sorcerer, however, was quicker in thought. The spellcaster formed a rune, his hands glowing a bright white.

    ¡°Flare!¡±

    In a moment¡¯s notice, whiteness blinded James. He stumbled for a bit, his eyes quickly blinking.

    ¡°Arcane Bolt!¡± James clenched his jaw and dropped, his shield moving to protect every bit of his vitals. The bolt struck the top of his shield before it made contact with his helmet. The piece of armor flew off, leaving the dazed man with a concussion from the sheer recoil of it.

    The Flare spell was already wearing off, but the young Jarl could still see how the sorcerer formed another rune at him. James stared dumbly at the man¡¯s glowing fingers, his eyes widening. His body suddenly tensed up, the taste of berries in his mouth soon being replaced by that of burnt wood. James flared with heat, his eyes burning as Faust forcefully took control of his body. The possessed man shoved the sorcerer¡¯s hand out of the way, his right hand unsheathing his weapon.

    James found himself rushing forth, his sword plunging into the man¡¯s gut. It had all happened so fast, so suddenly, that James couldn¡¯t even process it until the sorcerer grabbed at his collar.

    ¡°Oh fuck! Oh, shit!¡± James quickly dropped the sword, his hands moving to stem the bleeding wound.

    ¡®I¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to. I just reacted.¡¯

    Faust¡¯s words went unheard, as James was more focused on keeping the man alive.

    ¡°Dammit! Dammit!¡± He cursed, his hands only getting bloodier as he tried to apply pressure on the wound. It would be for naught. This man was as good as dead, no way to heal him without advanced potions or magic. So James tried the alternative.

    ¡°Tell me where he is! Arthur! Where is he?!¡±

    His shouts did nothing to phase the dying sorcerer. He only looked at James, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

    ¡°What makes you think I¡¯d talk?¡±

    ¡°You idiot! I¡¯m trying to stop a fucking war here!¡± James shook the man, trying his best to keep him awake and conscious enough to talk. ¡°Call the soldiers off! Help me stop the marauders!¡±

    ¡°Help you? You¡¯re just as bad as them. You broke the holy laws of interference¡­¡±

    ¡°I know I fucked up, but I can help you guys seal the source to the fracture!¡±

    The sorcerer raised an eyebrow, his face contorting into confusion and anger. ¡°You fool¡­You don¡¯t know, do you?¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± James furrowed his brow. He could feel his chest tighten at the tone of the man¡¯s words. This wasn¡¯t good.

    ¡°When you fractured the ley lines, where did you think it originated?¡± The sorcerer coughed blood. ¡°It wasn¡¯t the island, nor the shithole you were revived in.¡± The dying man grabbed at James¡¯ collar, pulling him closer.

    ¡°The source is you. You are the source of the fracture. The only way to seal it is to kill you¡­¡± The spellcaster¡¯s voice grew weaker with every word, his eyes slowly closing. ¡°Arthur¡­he¡¯s going to seal it. Do the world a favor¡­and let him kill you.¡±

    With his dying breath, the sorcerer chuckled, his eyes soon losing their flicker. He stared up at the ceiling, his body going limp right after.

    James stared at the corpse, his mind replaying the dead man¡¯s words.

    ¡°The only way to seal it is to kill you.¡±

    His mind went back to Gryff. To their fight. Back then, Gryff had knocked James out during their brawl and had even told him he was going to ¡¯Deal with him later¡¯.

    He thought back to the abominations, to the carnage he had witnessed in its wake. The implications that it was doing the same to other islands. It was all his fault. His existence alone had caused so much death. Gryff had just wanted to save the ley lines. Arthur wanted to seal the source and avenge the Lumen Knight.

    James remembered what Iendis had told him. What she had called him.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°Father was right about you. You are truly something different. Something that not even fate saw coming. True chaos.¡±

    </blockquote>

    He had forgotten his place in the world. The reason behind his summoning. Why Iendis had brought him here in the first place. James was a pawn. A man from Earth who never belonged here. Summoned by mad and conniving gods. It didn¡¯t matter how good his intentions were or the feelings he had for this world. None of it ever mattered.

    From the day he fell into those black waters and was brought to Azura, James was destined to doom it all to hell.

    The blue glow around him suddenly changed in tone. The moonlight of the twin celestials suddenly turned into a dark red, showering the room in crimson. James slowly turned to the large window that showcased the night sky.

    Anguish filled his soul as he was met with the sight of the Blood Moons, an omen that foretold bloodshed and death. He looked down at his stained hands and bloodied armor. In the red light, it looked as if they were covered in black tar. Like the darkness was consuming him. The otherworldly man clenched his shaking hands into fists before slamming them onto the bloodied ground.

    In a moment of sheer despair and anger, James Holter screamed into the sky, until his lungs went hoarse.

 B.3 Chapter 45: Holter

    Dahlia looked up at the blood moons that displayed over the city of Vindis. Black clouds partially covered them, but their glow still showered the buildings and people in red. The shaman looked to Falrick, who stared at the visage with horror. Seamus was nearby as well, his own gaze dead focused on the moons. They had just reunited, the two groups preparing their way to the center of the city. Nathan and his gnomes had a plan to revitalize the alarm system and send a message to the nearby outposts. Everything was planned and set up. All they needed to do was to reach the center.

    It was an exciting moment, as even Dahlia had thought that their luck was improving. That was until the blood moons showed up. This was an event not to be taken lightly. It was an omen that no one should ever see. Yet here was the shaman, her surroundings lit in red. Mass death was coming to Vindis. From then on, everything was possible. Dahlia could only think of the friends and allies that went off to other parts of the city. Their lives were at stake now.

    ¡°We need to keep moving,¡± Seamus finally spoke out. ¡°We need to get to that center now.¡± He looked at everyone, their focus now on him.

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Falrick muttered. ¡°The sooner we get that message out, the faster we drive these damned invaders out.¡± He turned to Nathan, who was still staring at the sky. ¡°Wizard, can the gnomes set up the alarm totem?¡± Falrick gestured to the totem that rested nearby. It was from the Thieves Guild, who had given the totem to Nathan¡¯s gnomes. They had tinkered and carved runes into it, apparently improving upon it during the half hour.

    Nathan nodded. ¡°They can.¡±

    ¡°Good. You¡¯re coming with me. We¡¯re going to reactivate the ley line connections to the city so the gnomes could sound the alarm,¡± Falrick explained. ¡°Seamus, Haggard, you¡¯re coming with us to guard us.¡± The Wizard turned to Dahlia. ¡°Take the rest of these men and head to the center. The city hall is perfect for setting up the alarm system. It¡¯s tall enough to send its message on its lonesome.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you four are going alone?¡± Dahlia pointed out. ¡°You need more people on your side. It¡¯s too dangerous with such a small group!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to need more manpower than us. The center is bound to be filled with marauders and Lumen soldiers,¡± Falrick explained.

    The shaman wanted to argue, to say something, to convince the Wizard to take on more reinforcements.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine,¡± Haggard spoke out. ¡°This shouldn¡¯t take much time. We have two Wizards, for Freyja¡¯s sake.¡± The drifter grinned as he hefted his hammer. As Haggard joined Falrick and Nathan, Seamus had some trouble. He was currently signing to Lilith, who was trying to join him on his journey.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± he assured while forming the hand signs to the berserker. Lilith formed back signs, her expression that of worry.

    ¡°I need to be with them, since I¡¯m the only one who knows where to go. I need to guide the Wizards. As for you, you need to protect the gnomes and Dahlia. I know you¡¯re the best one for the job,¡± Seamus explained. He stood up and shifted with his belt. He handed the young woman a vial. ¡°Agility potion, just in case.¡±

    The red-haired woman stared at the vial, before she cautiously grabbed it. Seamus turned to leave but was stopped when Lilith embraced him. The young man blinked in surprise but didn¡¯t protest the hug. Dahlia watched as Seamus patted Lilith¡¯s head, his lips curving into a soft smile as he said his goodbyes.

    ¡°Quite an interesting bunch, you lot are,¡± Markov¡¯s voice muttered. Dahlia looked to the thief, who was fitting on his armor.

    ¡°Are you staying here?¡±

    ¡°Gods no. This hideout is compromised.¡± Markov gestured to the burning merchant¡¯s guild. ¡°Some will stay here, to make sure any running survivors are directed to somewhere else.¡±

    ¡°Where are you going, then?¡± The shaman questioned.

    ¡°Me and my men are going to hold off any marauding bastard from the center. We can get there faster than you all. We¡¯ll carve a path for you.¡±

    Dahlia blinked. ¡°You¡¯re willing to risk yourselves for us?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± the old thief sighed. ¡°If you all die, this city is fucked. If there is even a slight chance of us winning, I¡¯m taking it.¡± Markov moved off to the alleyway, his hands gesturing for his men to follow. ¡°We¡¯ll do what we can but you¡¯ll still need to hurry. Time is running out.¡±

    ¡°Understood.¡± Dahlia nodded.

    ¡°Oh, and if you survive this and see Holter again,¡± Markov turned to the shaman, a sincere look on his face.

    ¡°Give him my thanks.¡±

    <hr>

    Rain pattered on the courtyard. James stepped out of the dry safety of the hall''s interior and looked up at the sky, his eyes meeting with the dark clouds that poured water onto him. They parted perfectly to showcase the twin moons, which stared down at him judgmentally. James looked to the courtyard, where soldiers and mages alike were cornered. They were attempting to leave through the backdoor, but that plan was futile. For the Draugr stood in their way. Orcs and specters moved in from the front, led by Silas and Malik. They made eye contact with James, their expressions turning from triumph to silent realization.

    James looked down at his torso, where the blood of the sorcerer was stained.

    ¡°You¡­ You monster! What did you do to Sorcerer Darius?!¡± one soldier shouted at James, his face contorting into fear and hate. The young Jarl could only stare back in silence, his gaze moving to the stranger in the back. He wore all black, his hood and cloak covering every part of him, along with goggles that reflected the scene before him. The painted grin on his mask sent a shiver down James¡¯ spine.

    ¡°Stay back,¡± the strange man muttered to the soldier, holding him back. ¡°He¡¯s no ordinary man. This is the real deal.¡±

    ¡°Where is Arthur?¡± James broke his silence.

    The man in goggles tilted his head. ¡°He¡¯s off dealing with bigger problems. But I guess after what you did¡­ He¡¯ll definitely come for you.¡± The cloaked man had no visible weapons, but James could still feel the murderous intent that reeked from him.

    ¡°Good,¡± James muttered, his eyes glancing off at the distant horizon, where the flames of the city still raged on. He could feel his anger bubble deep within him, his fists growing tight around his weapon. ¡°Because I¡¯m gonna make him and every single one of you pay for today. For what you¡¯ve all done.¡±

    ¡°We?¡± one soldier asked, indignation in his voice as he pointed. ¡°You started this! You were the one who decided to defy Delphine¡¯s Holy Law and kill her chosen children! We are to avenge the hero Gryff and his¡ª¡±

    ¡°Will you shut the fuck up?!¡± James shouted, his rage reaching a boiling point. He turned sharply to the group of soldiers, who all stood with their backs against the wall. ¡°I started this? Well excuse me for trying to survive! Maybe if that psychopath knight of yours didn¡¯t try wiping an innocent island from the map, maybe I would¡¯ve complied! But no! He decided to threaten my friends, my island, and my people! And now Arthur repeats that mistake!¡±

    James pointed at the flames that still blazed in the city, their glow still visible in the heavy rain. ¡°I am not responsible for this! You did this! YOU ALL DID THIS!¡±

    His body shook with unbridled fury, hands shaking as he watched many of the soldiers sulk and step back, gazes mixed with fear and surprise. James then realized that his eyes were glowing furiously, their heat flaring a nasty headache within his skull. He sighed and willed it away, his eyes closing.

    ¡°Holter!¡±

    A voice called out from nowhere, catching everyone off guard. James turned and, without warning, a young-looking woman dropped down from the roof, landing in front of the soldiers. James stared at the black-haired stranger. She was wearing no armor, the only clothing on her being a rough-looking tunic and ripped breeches. She wasn¡¯t even wearing any shoes. Blood ran down her forehead as she walked with a noticeable limp. She looked eerily familiar, but James couldn¡¯t place where he had seen her.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± He asked.

    ¡°My name is Gwenyth Sterling. I was hired to come hunt you down,¡± she revealed in a breath, clearly not wanting to waste time. James instinctively reached for his sword¡¯s hilt, ready to defend himself.

    The woman¡¯s silver eyes widened at the gesture. She raised her hands quickly in response. ¡°I¡¯m not here to fight you!¡± She exclaimed. ¡°I am here to simply talk. Something we should have done months ago.¡±

    ¡°Talk then,¡± James ordered. He had no time to ask more questions.

    ¡°I can help you, Holter. I know about your otherworldly status and the things you had to endure through,¡± Gwenyth started. ¡°Arthur, the knights, everyone has been against you since the day you came here. I¡¯m here to change that.¡± She extended her hand to the blond man. ¡°Let¡¯s call this off! Come with me willingly and I can talk with the high council. With your knowledge of the fracture, we can seal the source together, without violence and death. Believe me, enough people have died already¡­¡±

    James could only stare at her. Did she know about the source? Was she even told about it? He looked at her hand, his thoughts going to what the sorcerer told him. He was the source of it all and the only way to seal it was to kill the otherworldly man. Seal off the bond with Faust and allow him to die. Was there even a way to seal it without death? James recalled the futures he saw. All of them had him sealing the wound on his chest and ending the bond with Faust. If he turned himself in, could that be possible?

    ¡®No, because the Lumen Kingdom doesn¡¯t care about keeping me alive. Why waste resources on a criminal when you can just kill him off?¡¯

    None of those futures ever showed him one where he was allied with them. Still, Gwenyth seemed genuine. She wanted to end this, just as much as James did. Judging from the red markings around her wrist and the wounds on her body, it told him that she was punished for believing so.

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    James slowly reached for his chest, his mind going to the fracture. Going with Gwenyth would mean certain death, since fixing all of this resulted in his death. Maybe he had a chance with Dahlia and the rest of his friends, but that chance was slim. Not only that, but if James died and was unsuccessful in sealing the source, it would mean allowing those abominations to run loose. As much as he hated it, the Lumen Kingdom¡¯s clerics were probably the only ones who could get it done successfully.

    James gritted his teeth at the thought of it. If he could seal it¡­ prevent the abominations from ever appearing again. Would it be worth it? His death was insignificant to him, anyway. Everything he had done in this world had led to nothing but the suffering and deaths of others. Maybe taking himself out the equation was for the best.

    ¡®But what of them?¡¯ Faust muttered. ¡®What of the city and your friends?¡¯

    That was also true. The city was still under attack by marauders. His friends were in the thick of it, trying to stop it. If he were to allow Gwenyth to take him prisoner, the entire city would be doomed. His friends would be dead meat.

    The man from Earth found himself in conflict. Were his friends important, or was the entire nation of Valenfrost more vital to him? He looked at Gwenyth, who watched in anticipation. Choosing to save his friends would also mean killing Arthur and whatever Lumen soldier stood in his way. It would mean becoming what those knights feared in the first place. Giving himself up to save Valenfrost would mean allowing an entire city to sink and all his friends put to the sword. It would also mean a ¡®clean conscience¡¯ since his sacrifice could potentially save thousands. No, it could save the world.

    James thought back to the cliche of heroes in stories. So much of the time, the hero would sacrifice themselves for the greater good. Regardless of what they had fought for in the first place. All because not doing so would make them worse than the villain.

    He laughed aloud at the thought, his lips forming into a grin as he guffawed. Everyone stared in confusion, watching as he laughed. Soon enough, his laughter would die down to a fading chuckle. James turned to Gwenyth, his smile slowly disappearing.

    ¡°What will happen if I refuse?¡± James asked.

    Gwenyth¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Then I would have no other choice than to take you down myself,¡± she revealed before she took a couple of steps back.

    ¡°I see,¡± James sighed. He unsheathed his sword right after and held it in front of him. Past the blood that stained its edge, it mirrored his reflection in its steel. James stared at his tired and worn gaze.

    If his encounter with Gryff had taught him anything, it¡¯s that these people would say anything as long as it meant fulfilling their goals. Gwenyth was no different from the knight before. It was easy to feign sympathy and even easier to lie. James pointed his sword at the woman¡¯s direction, his voice calling out to the men around.

    ¡°Take care of the soldiers, but leave her to me. This one is mine.¡± His words shocked everyone around, their expressions turning to a mixture of hate and shock.

    Ever since his summoning to Valenfrost, James had thought himself the hero. The brave warrior who would save the weak and change the world for the better. He was a fool to think the world was like that. In reality, he was just a man. A man willing to hold on to what he has left and save the ones he loved. He would be damned before he allowed his friends and everything he had built up to this point to die out.

    The orcs and specters rushed towards the soldiers, who tried to fight back. Gwenyth tried to help, but James interrupted. He clashed his sword against her left arm, which rang like steel and reflected his blade like nothing. The otherworldly man jumped back when she retaliated with a swipe from her dagger, its edge nicking his armor. Gwenyth shifted her stance, her focus now on James. She rushed at him, her dagger swiping at him. James shifted his shield and dodged the best he could, but he could still feel the impact of her strikes and cuts, some of them even making marks on his flesh despite the Carapace spell.

    It was clear she was more experienced and much more dangerous than any other opponent the blond man had faced. However, her injuries and lack of gear held her down, making it easier for James to fight back. When the time was right, he bashed the woman with his shield, knocking her back and leaving her open. James rushed forward, his sword flashing at her. Gwenyth dropped in response, hitting the ground just as the otherworldly man¡¯s sword swiped the air. She tried to go for a stab at his leg, but he was faster. James¡¯ boot made contact with her hand, kicking the dagger away.

    James moved to stab at her, but was unsuccessful. Gwenyth had grabbed at his sword¡¯s length, pushing it away with her left hand before using her right to pull the shield away. It was so sudden that James didn¡¯t have time to pull the wooden disc away. Once in her possession, Gwenyth bashed at his chest with the shield. The steel edge knocked him back, making him stumble a bit. She tried to go for another strike, but James saw it coming. With Faust¡¯s help, he dodged the attack, his left hand moving to grab at her head.

    Time seemed to stop as his fingers grazed against Gwenyth¡¯s forehead. As usual, everything went white. James expected to see the memories of a Lumen Knight, like before. He expected to see the city and the extension of the kingdom. Yet he saw none of it.

    Instead, he was subjected to thousands of images, all of them flashing faster than he could process. Destroyed buildings, an eclipse of blood, burning eyes, dead bodies of close friends, a detached arm, a dying woman with red hair, knights in black, grinning masks, and the burning symbol of a star.

    It sent the woman stumbling back, her eyes wide with shock. Her hair fell away from her head, revealing it to be a fake. Silver locks flowed out as a result, its reflecting nature almost glowing.

    James stared at her, recognizing this woman as the elf he saw in one of his futures. She had oversaw his execution then, and sentenced him. Gwenyth stared at James, her expression a mix of confusion and surprise.

    ¡°What are you?¡± she asked. James blinked, his gaze moving to glance at the soldiers nearby. Most of them were on the ground, their bodies bleeding and their friends desperately trying to retreat.

    James didn¡¯t know how to respond. He could only stare dumbly, his mind going to the images he saw. Gwenyth had seen it all. She had been through hellish events and watched close friends die. Judging from those memories, she had lived through centuries of it. Yet here she was, still fighting to be good. Gwenyth had tried to even reason with him. Unlike others before her, she had actually spoken to him before fighting. James had judged her as another Lumen bastard, one that saw him as nothing more than a threat.

    It was why he was dead set on killing her, on ending her like the ones before. Yet now he was conflicted. This elf was a good person, one that had done nothing but try to reason. Her memories confirmed it, even if they came in a flash. James had seen glimpses of her deeds, of her intentions.

    ¡®You¡¯re not seriously thinking of letting her go?¡¯ Faust asked. James shook the spirit¡¯s voice away. He had been so caught up in this mess that he allowed himself to be overtaken by anger and emotion. The Centurion¡¯s bloodlust was slowly coming onto him and it clouded his judgment.

    James looked up at the rain that fell upon him, left hand touching his head as he pushed back those thoughts of bloodlust. He cleared it all away, the thrill, the adrenaline, and the rage. And he found himself thinking about someone he hadn¡¯t thought about in a while.

    The image of his father looking down at him, his gentle eyes and contagious grin outlined by the sun that bathed him. James had not thought about him in months, not of his words, his advice, or even his visage. Why was that?

    ¡®What would he say if he saw me now?¡¯

    Hell, what would Nick or Aunt Dina say? Would they still see the same awkward college graduate, who sucked at social conversation and excelled at niche hobbies? The guy who had put all his frustrations and violent tendencies in the past, all to keep a promise he had made to his dying mother? James knew the answer to those. He knew what they¡¯d see.

    Not the nephew who cared and sent money back to his aunt. Not the childhood friend who spent hours in MMOs to grind out one stupid piece of gear. Not the man who just wanted to pursue a better life. No, they¡¯d see a blood covered maniac with a sword and strange, terrifying, powers. When did James lose himself?

    ¡®Or have I always been like this?¡¯ he thought as he looked down at his armor and fur collar, all of which was stained with scarlet. James remembered breaking Mike¡¯s nose the day he was summoned here. He remembered the rush and adrenaline that coursed through him, the violence fueling him.

    ¡°You have your father¡¯s temper, don¡¯t you?¡±

    His aunt¡¯s voice played out in his mind, a memory from a distant time, back when he was picking fights in school. James thought back to that day, a small frown on his lips. His father¡¯s temper? That sounded so strange back then. He had always seen his Dad as a well mannered man, polite and gentle.

    ¡°Learn to control that anger of yours, that temper. If you manage to just hold it back, even by a little, you¡¯ll be stronger for it. Your father learned it, albeit a little later in his life. But I don¡¯t doubt that you¡¯d be able to handle it better than he. You have a little of your mother in you, don¡¯t forget that.¡±

    James took a deep breath, his lungs taking in the cool air. He closed his eyes for a second, remembering his father and his mother. His aunt and his best friend. The ones who believed in him and undoubtedly cared for him. They¡¯d expect better from him.

    ¡°Control that anger, James, and you¡¯ll be stronger for it.¡±

    He opened his eyes and looked to the fallen elf, who stared at him with a look of wariness.

    ¡°Get up,¡± James ordered. Gwenyth slowly stood, her brow furrowing. James unsheathed his backup sword before he tossed it to her. The blade clattered as it skidded to her. ¡°I¡¯ll make it fair for you,¡± he said. ¡°Will you defend your men?¡± The elf slowly picked up the short sword, her confused look slowly turning to that of realization once she saw how the soldiers gathered up behind her. James raised his hand to stop his orcs from advancing. This was his fight now.

    ¡°I will if it means keeping them safe,¡± Gwenyth called back. James smiled at the elf, his mind going to the time he had been in this position.

    ¡°It¡¯s been far too long since someone tried to play hero,¡± he chuckled menacingly, directly quoting a certain man.

    ¡®Are you sure about this?¡¯ Faust asked.

    ¡®I¡¯m positive.¡¯ James kicked his shield aside, his only form of defense being his sword. He hoped his corny way of speaking made it obvious that this was all for show. Otherwise, this fight would turn ugly quickly.

    James raised his arms, gesturing at the elf. ¡°Well? Come at me!¡±

    Gwenyth yelled as she rushed forward, her hands swinging the short sword at James.

    ¡®Faust.¡¯

    Everything went slow as the spirit flowed into his body, James¡¯ eyes flaring with heat. The Centurion snapped into his consciousness as a response, now in full control. Faust moved to the side, wielding the straight sword like a gladius. James watched as the spirit rushed towards Gwenyth. Swords clashed and sparks flew as the two collided. Faust shifted and used his left to punch at the elf, his fist striking her unarmored torso.

    Gwenyth stumbled back, but she retaliated with a wild swing. Faust simply dodged, sword aimed at the elf¡¯s left side. He made sure to only target the non vital areas. The sword¡¯s edge slashed at the elf¡¯s torso, leaving a small gash on her side. She winced but continued to fight, her short sword stabbing at James. Faust grabbed the sword by its guard, stopping the strike mid-movement. James snapped back into control, his jaw clenching as he focused on his cryomancy.

    He froze the guard to the woman¡¯s hand, causing her to exclaim in pain.

    ¡°Na?ve,¡± James muttered. He looked into Gwenyth¡¯s silver irises, watching as the elf turned her scowl into a grin.

    ¡°Funny, I was going to say the same thing.¡± Gwenyth slammed her palm against the blond man¡¯s chest.

    ¡°Push!¡±

    The elf¡¯s enhanced words were accompanied by the force of winds, which threw James back. The Jarl stumbled and fell back on his knees. He tried to give chase, but Gwenyth threw her short sword at James, stopping his run as it embedded itself before his feet. The elf used her precious seconds to retreat to her men, her hands forming one last rune.

    ¡°Mist Veil!¡±

    Mist exploded from her hands, covering everyone around her. The orcs around James loosed their arrows at the elf, but it would be too late. By the time the first arrow reached the mist cloud, the elf and her men were gone. James couldn¡¯t help but chuckle, his hand moving to wipe the blood from his lips. They had gotten away.

    ¡°What a shame,¡± he muttered with a grin, doing his best to sound disappointed. James looked to the sky, where the blood moons shone. Despite what happened here, the Jarl knew there was more to do.

    Tonight was far from over.

 B.3 Chapter 46: A Gathering Storm

    Harald took a step back from William, his hand moving to his sword¡¯s guard. The champion before him took a step back as well, his cold eyes set on the veteran.

    ¡°We can stop this,¡± Harald called out. ¡°No one needs to die.¡±

    ¡°The Draugr should have thought of that before he endangered Valenfrost,¡± William answered venomously.

    ¡°What did they tell you?¡± Harald asked.

    ¡°They didn¡¯t have to tell me anything. I saw it for myself back in Buravon,¡± William scowled. ¡°The things I saw there¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m going to take you down, Stroud, and you¡¯re going to tell me everything.¡±

    ¡°William¡­¡±

    ¡°Shut it! Stop acting as if you are still my superior!¡± William pointed at himself. ¡°I am the new champion of Azlene! I am her blade, her emissary!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a fool if you think Azlene stands for any of this.¡± Harald gestured to the blood moons above, which had just appeared not too long ago. The man before him seemed to hesitate for a moment, but he soon shook it off. He stared at Harald, his anger still boiling as he disregarded the moons.

    ¡°The goddess chose me,¡± William growled. ¡°I shall use her cleansing embers to purify these islands and the abominations that lurk within them.¡± He raised his sword at the veteran. ¡°Draw your weapon! Fight me!¡±

    Harald stared at William, unsure if the younger man truly knew what purpose he was fighting for. If anything, he seemed confused and scared. Harald wanted to talk with him, to at least reason with the champion. Yet even he knew it would be for naught. William was irrationally angry and there was nothing he could do or say to stop him. With a heavy sigh, Harald unsheathed his sword. He gestured to the guardsmen behind him.

    ¡°Stay back. Don¡¯t jump in.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Dirk asked.

    ¡°Sir, this is crazy¡­¡± Kate murmured.

    ¡°This is personal,¡± Harald simply answered. He turned back to William, who awaited him. ¡°I accept your challenge, under the condition that if I win, you call off your men.¡±

    ¡°You are in no position to negotiate.¡±

    ¡°I will tell you everything, William,¡± Harald revealed. ¡°The absolute truth, I swear it. Just accept my terms.¡±

    William seemed to ponder at the veteran¡¯s words. After a few seconds, he muttered a curse and gritted his teeth.

    ¡°Fine,¡± William answered through his clenched jaw. ¡°Are you ready, Stroud?¡± The champion asked as he shifted and took his stance, enchanted sword at the ready.

    ¡°I am more than ready.¡±

    Harald took his own stance, his nicked and scratched sword wavering a little as he readied it. The veteran took a deep breath, his left hand moving to fix his helmet. This was a battle he waged multiple times in his mind. One that he replayed countless times. Yet he felt far from ready. His knees wobbled and his breath was shallow. The sword was ten times heavier and his armor was tight against his chest. The veteran was nervous.

    William was the first to charge. Harald raised his weapon in defense, barely catching the strike. Both men contested with each other, with William having the upper hand. Soon enough, William won the brief clash, his blade flashing as it struck the veteran¡¯s upper chest. Thankfully, the steel plate of Harald¡¯s armor protected him from a grizzly fate. Still, there was a visible gash that ran deep into the steel. It was the power of enchanted blades, one that Harald knew very well.

    William rushed back again, wasting no time in fighting the veteran. Harald stepped forward, his armament already mid-swing. The two swords clashed once more and this time, the veteran¡¯s own blade couldn¡¯t hold up with the champion¡¯s special weapon. The sword broke as a result, sending half its length flying across the street. Harald stared at the broken weapon. The entire world around him stopped at that moment. Stunned, he could only watch as William¡¯s sword lunged towards him.

    A sharp pain jolted Harald awake. The veteran¡¯s gaze moved to his abdomen. William had stabbed him, the enchanted blade¡¯s runes burning with red energy as they pierced armor and flesh. However, the wound was not deep enough to be vital. That was the result of the veteran¡¯s instincts. His left hand grabbed at the sword''s edge, blood staining all over his palm and fingers as he gripped onto the weapon.

    ¡°Harald!¡± Kate¡¯s shout rang out, snapping the old man out of his stunned stupor.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just give up already!¡± William shouted in anger as he pulled his sword away from Harald. The veteran took a step back, his right hand lowering the broken sword.

    ¡°Just accept your defeat and die!¡± William lunged once more, his sword swinging down on Harald. Harald moved to dodge, barely avoiding the strike. He thrusted forward with his broken weapon, landing a hit on the other man¡¯s side. Yet the jagged edge did nothing but scratch the steel.

    ¡°Idiot!¡± William retaliated. He backhanded the veteran, sending him to the ground. ¡°You¡¯re even worse than back when we last fought. It seems as if these islands have corroded your skill and experience to a null,¡± William taunted. He dragged his sword across the ground in front of the veteran. ¡°You¡¯re pathetic.¡±

    Harald himself felt the sentiment in those words. He had trained and fought, survived and killed, yet he was losing horribly. Was his past dragging him down this much? His body was slow. His bones felt weak and his hands were shaking. Harald felt like the old man he really was.

    ¡®Is this my reality? Was I nothing more than a pathetic old man destined to hold on to the past?¡¯

    He looked up at William, who was raising his sword. He was no longer the young man back on that isle. No longer was William, the rookie who wanted to be nothing more than a knight. He was Azlene¡¯s chosen.

    ¡°Do you have any last words, Stroud?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Harald breathed out.

    William stopped and blinked. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I am sorry. For everything I did,¡± Harald reiterated. ¡°The fort. The men we lost that day. It still haunts me.¡± He broke eye contact. His pride was gone. His dignity was taken away. He was done. ¡°Not a day goes by where I don¡¯t think about it. I deserve this. I deserve everything you have to throw at me.¡± He gestured to the guardsmen behind him. ¡°But they? Let them live, at least. They¡¯re just kids¡­¡±

    William furrowed his brow, his jaw visibly clenching at Harald¡¯s words. ¡°What gives you the right to negotiate? To act as if you care?¡± The champion raised his sword, his face twisting into fury. The veteran only stared at William, his mind trying to find the words. To find the phrase that could end this fight. Yet nothing came to mind.

    Before William or Harald could say or do anything, someone yelled at them. ¡°You bastard!¡± It was Kate, and she was rushing towards William. The guardswoman had her sword drawn, and she was aiming to strike the chosen champion before her. William raised his weapon, defending himself from the woman¡¯s swing.

    They contested blades, and Kate screamed at Harald. ¡°You idiot! You¡¯re supposed to be our example! Our mentor! Yet here you are! Groveling like an idiot!¡±

    Harald stared at her, shocked at her actions. Kate shifted to William, pushing him back as she called to the fallen veteran. ¡°Pick yourself up and fight! Your past is the past! We are here to save a city, not your conscious!¡±

    ¡°Insolent bitch!¡± William rushed back at Kate, his sword glowing with embers. ¡°Ember Strike!¡± Kate tried to defend herself, but William''s blade cut through hers like nothing. His strike cut through steel and gambeson, singing the young woman¡¯s arm and throwing her back.

    William went for the killing blow, his sword in full swing. Harald rushed in with his broken blade, using his boot to kick at the other man¡¯s arm. William stumbled and tripped as a result, his gaze moving at Harald. ¡°You gain the will to fight now?!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m defending my students!¡± Harald announced.

    ¡°You¡¯ll die at my hand. I swear by it!¡±

    Harald took his stance, his hands raising the remaining half of his sword. ¡°Try it.¡±

    <hr>

    Dahlia pressed herself against the alleyway¡¯s walls, her fist raising to stop everyone behind her. The gnomes nearby stopped their march, their wide eyes watching ahead with anticipation. The storm clouds that hung over Vindis had snuffed the blood moons and their glow out, leaving the city in near darkness. Only the burning buildings and sporadic flashes of lightning provided any light. Still, while they couldn¡¯t see, they could still hear the sounds of soldiers fighting and marauders howling. It was more than enough to signify danger.

    The gnomes that hung behind the shaman were Nathan¡¯s own employees, being the same ones that gave her the artificer grenades and supplied her with alchemical ingredients. These artificer gnomes, Wheaton, and their dwarf coworker, Rockford, were currently carrying Vindis¡¯ last hope. The totem was an old thing, one that had originally been used back during the founding days of the city. Normally, it would be useless, but the gnomes had tinkered and enchanted the thing, improving upon its original design.

    Dahlia hoped it would be enough, that it would send the message out clearly to any nearby outposts or longships. There was no backup plan after this, after all.

    ¡°I think we¡¯re clear,¡± Elaine muttered nearby Dahlia. The bard gestured to the street ahead, which was quickly illuminated by a flash of lightning. As it turned out, Elaine¡¯s hunch was right. There seemed to be no one visible on the main street, which gave Dahlia little relief.

    Still, she needed to move. Time was running out, and they needed to reach the center quickly.

    ¡°Do you have any buffs you can cast on us all?¡± Dahlia whispered to Elaine.

    ¡°I have one that can quicken our steps, but with this many people¡­¡± The bard turned to everyone in the alleyway. Dahlia turned as well, her eyes scanning the many armored men and women cramped in the small space. There were close to twenty people, nearly all of them honorary ravens. Some thieves were in the mix as well. Elaine wouldn¡¯t be able to buff them all efficiently without straining herself to the limit.

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to risk it,¡± Dahlia bit her lip. She took point once more, ignoring the plea of the gnomes and Archibald¡¯s protest. The shaman moved forward, quickly crossing the street before everyone else. Once across, she gestured for everyone else to move in. Just like before, they all moved in segments across the street. First the gnomes and Rockford. Then Elaine and Lilith. Helen would move in with Bjorn and Archibald, with the guards in the back and front.

    Just as the last group crossed the street, a volley of arrows flew at them. One of the many projectiles struck one man by the arm. The guardsman shouted as he stumbled, before another arrow struck him. This one hit his exposed neck, causing the man to gurgle out in pain and agony.

    ¡°Archers!¡± Dahlia shouted. The other men and women in the street moved to protect themselves, raising their shields as they tried to drag off the injured man.

    Archibald tried to check on the struck man but was stopped by another volley of arrows coming from the darkness.

    ¡°He¡¯s done for! Leave him or else you¡¯ll end up the same way!¡± Helen shouted at the elf before she dragged away another guard who had arrows protruding from their back. Dahlia stepped in to help, her hand equipping a rune stone that was enchanted with Night Spray. She aimed it at the general direction of the arrows, her voice gaining magical might as she chanted the spell.

    ¡°Night Spray!¡±

    The stone grew immensely hot, shuddering as it fired multiple firefly-like projectiles into the general direction of the arrows. In the dark rainy night, the shaman could see the night spray¡¯s projectiles impact and light up men in shoddy mail and half ripped clothing. Marauders.

    ¡°Keep moving!¡± Dahlia shouted to the guards as they ran to safety. ¡°Helen, we have to run, now!¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t!¡± Helen shouted back through the rain. ¡°Too many wounded. They¡¯ll catch us if we run. Some of us will have to stay and fight.¡± Her words stung Dahlia like a knife.

    ¡°I¡¯ll stay and hold them off!¡± Bjorn shouted out. ¡°I can take them!¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be an idiot!¡± Archibald reprimanded. The elf was currently helping one of the wounded. ¡°You¡¯ll get overwhelmed. Your sacrifice will be for nothing.¡± Archibald stood and unsheathed his rapier. ¡°You¡¯re going to need my help.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure, Archibald?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m more than sure. Go,¡± The elf fixed his helmet, making it so that the visor wasn¡¯t obstructing his view. ¡°The dwarf and I shall be your shield.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m staying too!¡±

    ¡°Same here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not backing down!¡±

    Some guards nearby voiced their opinions, some of them even moving to join Bjorn and Archibald. Even the wounded were moving to join the band of defenders.

    ¡°We¡¯ll stay here,¡± Bjorn called out to Dahlia. ¡°You need to get to the center and activate that totem!¡± The dwarf tightened his shield to his left arm, readying himself for battle. Dahlia felt a heavy weight on her heart as she watched the men and women before her ready up. Lightning flashed and the shaman could see the wave of marauders charging from the end of the street.

    ¡°We have to go,¡± Helen muttered next to her. The veteran pulled at Dahlia¡¯s arm, snapping the shaman back to her reality.

    Dahlia nodded and slowly moved to catch up with the rest of the group. She gave Bjorn and Archibald one last look. The elf was in position, his rapier up and ready. The dwarf downed one last potion, before he tossed it away. Dahlia took in the heavy, rainy air before she shouted.

    ¡°We¡¯ll come back for you all!¡±

    Bjorn simply turned back to her, his single eye meeting with hers. He flashed her a grin, one that could make the most fearful of men proud and brave.

    ¡°Don¡¯t wait up!¡±

    <hr>

    Deimos crushed the skull of the city guard, watching as the younger man¡¯s eyes went blank. The corpse fell back onto the wet ground, blood leaking from his eyes. The chieftain looked up at the clouded sky, focusing on the red glow that shone through the rain now and then. He hadn¡¯t had fun like this since the Halvorson raid. The only thing missing was the challenge and blood boiling heat of danger. Deimos longed for another fighter like Yorn. A man who could push the chieftain to his very limits.

    ¡°These guards will have to do it for now,¡± he sighed as he kicked the corpse. Deimos looked around, almost expecting another fellow marauder nearby. Instead, there was no one in sight. The chieftain raised an eyebrow, his body turning to look around the street. Aside from the trail of bodies, there was not a single person in sight. It would seem the Red Death¡¯s path of destruction had outdone his own marauders.

    The marauder leader turned back to his front, his gaze setting on the path ahead. More fighting could be heard south of where he was. It was far from the center of the city, but Deimos didn¡¯t care. Any fighting would do, even if it was solely one-sided. The chieftain stepped forward, making his way through the alleyways and winding paths. He came across more bodies, ones that he was surprised to see. Lumen soldiers with phoenix emblems, thieves that bore green cloaks, and even a couple of guards that bore a white raven symbol.

    Deimos continued along, passing burnt buildings and collapsed bridges. More bodies littered the street as he went along, most of them marauders and Lumen soldiers. The one thing most of them had in common was a single killing blow.

    ¡®Their throats are cut wide open. Dagger most possibly.¡¯

    Deimos kicked over another of the bodies. As he expected, there was a wide red smile on this one¡¯s throat. He looked up, focusing on where most of the bodies converged. A merchant¡¯s guild, its roof burnt and half its walls collapsed.

    Deimos only needed to take one more step to figure out what was happening. A cold sensation washed over him, one that made the rain feel lukewarm. He stopped, a grin forming on his lips.

    ¡°I can sense you. Come out and give me a fair fight.¡± Deimos waited for a moment, expecting for the cloaked men to come out of the shadows. None came forward. The chieftain scoffed. ¡°I see now. Cowards to the end, eh?¡± He raised his long ax. Right when he did so, a thief came to his left. The dagger wielder went for a stab at his throat, aiming to make a swift kill.

    Deimos reacted quicker, his ax swinging to block the thief¡¯s dagger. The dirk reflected off the ax¡¯s staff, making a faint chink sound as it uselessly glanced against steel.

    ¡°My turn,¡± Deimos muttered. With a quick motion, he grabbed the thief¡¯s throat, using his strength to crush it. The man in his grip cried out pathetically before he tried to use his dagger to stab Deimos. It was no use, as the chieftain¡¯s armor was far too thick. Deimos squeezed even harder, putting his entire strength in his grip.

    Two more shadows rushed out at the chieftain, their daggers glinting as they brandished them. Deimos turned to them, his left arm straining with effort as he threw the first man. The thief flew, before he collided with his fellow thieves. Deimos took a step forward, his long ax raised above his head. Using all his strength, the marauder swung his weapon.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± The ax¡¯s edge gained a red hue, its speed doubling as it swung diagonally at the three thieves. Blood and guts spilled as the ax tore through the airborne thief, stunning the others before him. The ax continued its swing regardless of the body, hitting the next thief instantly in the jaw. The ax head shredded bone and flesh, sending it flying. Its momentum finally stopped when it struck the last man in the skull, burying itself deep into it.

    Gore flew and splattered all over the chieftain¡¯s armor, staining it. Deimos shifted from the drawback of the casting, his body burning and heating to an extreme. The Power Strike was much more draining this time, a result of the chieftain bolstering it. Thankfully, the icy rain made it all the easier to recover from. Deimos pulled his ax from the dead man¡¯s skull. He watched as the man before him fell to the ground, his head split open like a melon.

    ¡°Who¡¯s next?¡± He called out to the rain. Ahead, Deimos could see multiple shadows emerge, their hands brandishing shining daggers. They were like a wave, appearing on the roofs and in the alleyways. It looked like they learned their lesson. No amount of ambushing was going to work on Deimos. Not when he could sense them all. The Red Death grinned in excitement, his ax readying itself once again.

    ¡°Carapace!¡± He shouted. A warm snug feeling made itself known, filling the chieftain¡¯s mouth with the taste of berries.

    The thieves charged at him, their own voices filling the cold air.

    ¡°Carapace!¡±

    ¡°Caelus¡¯ Edge!¡±

    ¡°Arpidel Aura!¡±

    ¡°Shadow Step!¡±

    This night was going to be interesting.

    <hr>

    ¡°Up ahead. At the Wizard¡¯s shop.¡±

    Seamus whispered to Nathan. He gestured to the shop ahead, the same one where he saw the blind spellcaster enter.

    ¡°Ferir¡¯s shop,¡± Nathan muttered. ¡°Never really liked him, but he never deserved death.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t see any guards,¡± Haggard spoke up. ¡°Are there more inside?¡± The drifter asked Falrick.

    The older man shook his head. ¡°From the scry I did earlier, he sent off his only guard to deal with another part of the city. He¡¯s all alone.¡±

    ¡°How confident is this bastard?¡± Haggard murmured as he stepped out into the street.

    ¡°Judging from what he managed to do, I¡¯d say he¡¯s not to be underestimated,¡± Falrick warned as he followed the drifter.

    Nathan followed behind, his hands flexing and forming practice runes. ¡°Ferir wasn¡¯t just any old Wizard either,¡± he started. ¡°The fact that he was killed means we¡¯re dealing with someone exceptionally dangerous.¡± Both Wizards walked side by side, their hats waving in the wind and rain.

    Seamus recalled Falrick¡¯s stories of Wizards. They were exceptional spellcasters, masters of all houses of magic. They were the peak of spellcasting, the hats they wore being one of status. Seamus eyed the gold pins and badges that were pinned on both men¡¯s hats. Falrick outranked Nathan by a mile, but both men¡¯s skills were still on another level. Nathan¡¯s foreign pins still signified him as a Wizard of noticeable power. Falrick¡¯s pins showed that the old man was a master of his craft.

    All in all, they were stacked in power. Even Haggard was at full strength, itching for a fight with whatever laid beyond the Wizard shop. The only oddball was Seamus, who stayed in the back as the powerhouses took the lead. Haggard was the first to reach the shop, his hammer at the ready as he opened the door. Seamus held his breath as he watched. The drifter swung the door open, showcasing the darkness inside. There was a pause as he stared inside.

    Haggard was the first to step in, his left hand forming a rune. ¡°Candlelight.¡± His fingers produced a small ball of light, one that illuminated the interior of the shop. Surprisingly, it all looked normal. Items still lined the shelves. Valdoras spotted the counter. Candles were snuffed off. It was like the shop was closed for the night. Still, Seamus could feel the sense that someone was looking at him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take the lead,¡± Haggard called to the Wizards as he walked ahead. Falrick didn¡¯t argue as he stuck behind him.

    Nathan looked at Seamus. ¡°Go, I¡¯ll watch your back,¡± He murmured. Seamus nodded and stepped up to the door. He stuck close to Falrick, his sword¡¯s blade halfway out of the sheath. The group slowly made their way through the shop, passing shelves and hanging curtains.

    They would reach the backroom without so much of a peep. The only sound was the creaking of floorboards and wet boots pressing against them. Haggard took a deep breath and stepped through the curtain that led to the backroom. Seamus followed behind with Falrick.

    The room was much spacier and vast than Nathan¡¯s, almost like an indoor courtyard. There was a large skylight above them, showcasing the stormy sky that poured rain upon the building. There looked to be little to no furniture or amenities inside, the only thing being that of a large rune circle that was carved into the floor. It glowed a dark purple, with symbols and glyphs surrounding a figure at the center. Seamus stared at the man before him. Memories flooded back into his head, reminding him of that fateful night. He remembered seeing someone similar, someone just like this man.

    Yet the young man couldn¡¯t remember it clearly. It was all so blurred, so hazy.

    The blindfolded man stood from his position in the circle, his head tilting at the group. He grinned. ¡°How quaint. Falrick and Seamus. I¡¯d never expect to see you two here, alive and well.¡±

    ¡°Who the hel are you?¡± Seamus asked in a mutter.

    ¡°You don¡¯t remember me, do you?¡± The spellcaster asked. He looked upset.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter who you are,¡± Nathan said. ¡°We¡¯re here to dispel your circle and stop this raid.¡±

    The spellcaster turned to Nathan with a confused look. He laughed almost immediately after. ¡°That¡¯s quite funny¡­¡± He raised a hand to his chest. ¡°It does matter who I am. For this rune circle is tied to my life force.¡± He gestured to the surrounding runes. ¡°As long as I live, this city will be cut off from the ley lines.¡±

    ¡°Is that supposed to intimidate us?¡± Haggard asked as he hefted his hammer.

    ¡°Oh most definitely,¡± the spellcaster chuckled. ¡°For I am Eli of the Marauders. The same man who had brought the Halvorson clan to its knees and helped cut the bear¡¯s head off.¡± He made a motion across his neck. ¡°You are foolish to believe you could kill me.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m willing to try.¡± Haggard grinned.

    ¡°Haggard, wait!¡± Falrick called out to the drifter, but it was already too late. Haggard rushed towards the spellcaster, his hammer raised and ready to smash. Eli simply stared in amusement before he stepped forward.

    ¡°How na?ve,¡± he called out. Eli swiped at the air before him, summoning a mist of black that rushed towards Haggard. The drifter faltered his sprint at the sight of this, his body shifting to dodge the black spears that had manifested in less than a second.

    They only scratched at his armor, but the act was enough to strike fear in nearly everyone in the room. Seamus himself felt he was going crazy. Did he really witness that? Eli had summoned a spell without speaking its word of power. That was impossible. Not even the best of Wizards could cast spells like this. Yet here was Eli, using his hands to guide spears of mist. The blind caster swiped once more and a ball of light appeared from nowhere, blinding everyone. A flare spell, this one also cast without the user¡¯s input.

    Seamus raised his sword in defense, his eyes blinking as fast as possible. Through the fading screen of white, he could see Falrick raise a staff.

    ¡°Magi Shield!¡±

    In a near instant, Seamus saw a bubble of blue form around him, its magical power humming around him. Right after this, a spear of black mist pierce right through, barely missing the young by a few hairs. The shield broke, shattering as fast as it appeared.

    ¡°Fireball!¡±

    Nathan was next, his staff glowing as it cast the fiery ball. His spell flew through the thick air like a raging furnace, heating everything around it as it collided with Eli. The explosion rocked the room, its heat enough to make Seamus¡¯ face go red.

    ¡°Stay vigilant!¡± Falrick shouted as he slammed his staff against the ground. ¡°Light Carapace: Four Fold!¡±

    Seamus felt a warm blanket-like feeling spread across his body, accompanied by the taste of fruit. He saw how Haggard''s and Nathan¡¯s bodies were wrapped in a blue aura. Falrick had buffed them, possibly to prepare them for the fight ahead.

    Seamus looked to where the Fireball had hit Eli. Just as he feared, the spell had done nothing to stop the terrifying spellcaster. Eli stood in the smoke, barely a scratch made on his skin. The only thing that was damaged was his clothes, which were lightly tattered. Even his blindfold was beginning to fall apart.

    ¡°This might be fun,¡± Eli laughed aloud.

    ¡°What in the gods are you?¡± Falrick asked.

    ¡°I am beyond you,¡± Eli chuckled as he brushed soot from his clothes.

    ¡°No man can cast spells without uttering their words of power,¡± Nathan called out. The Wizard was already forming runes, his staff¡¯s gem glowing a yellowish red.

    ¡°That is because I am no man.¡± Eli answered in a frustrating tone. ¡°Like I said. I am beyond you mere Wizards. I am the future, the next step in our species¡¯ evolution.¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Seamus asked.

    Eli turned to Seamus, a small smile growing on his lips. ¡°Well¡­ You are all going to die. I might as well show you.¡±

    The spellcaster raised his hands to his blindfold, his fingers gently pulling at them. With care and gentle precision, he untied and folded the velvet-like fabric. His eyes were closed, a clear burn mark over his eyeline. Seamus felt sick to his stomach as Eli grinned even wider. The spellcaster opened his eyes, showcasing something that made the young man remember everything.

    The memory of that night came flooding back, its images flashing in his young man¡¯s mind. He had seen something like this before. Back when Deimos had raided his father¡¯s fort. He could never forget those cursed eyes. The ones that were crystalline purple with pupils that were shaped like stars. They were burnt into his psyche, reminding him of everything that happened.

    Seamus never knew what they looked like, but even so, he could recognize that Eli had eyes that were never supposed to exist. The young spellcaster had beholder eyes. Artifact level orbs that were only myth. Belonging only to the Mad King.

    Despite logic, Eli¡¯s gaze glowed a deadly purple as he laughed uncontrollably. Nathan stood shocked and Haggard could only stare in disbelief. Falrick, however, looked terrified. His fear was something that made Seamus truly believe Eli. That they were all going to die.

 B.3 Chapter 47: No Matter What

    Harald blocked the attack from William, using his left arm to take the hit head on. The sword slashed through the gambeson, leaving a nasty gash on Harald¡¯s flesh. Yet the veteran pushed through the pain like it was nothing. He struck at the herald with his broken weapon, trying to do some damage. Even a cut would do, as long as it hurt William. However, life was rarely ever so convenient. The jagged blade scraped and slashed gambeson and steel, but it didn¡¯t do a damn thing beyond scratching it.

    ¡°Sloppy!¡±

    William slapped the weapon away from Harald before stabbing at him once more. The champion¡¯s blade barely missed Harald¡¯s neck, only opting to scrape against the man¡¯s shoddy steel plate. Harald took this opportunity and gripped onto the sword like his life depended on it. William would try to pull, but the veteran¡¯s grip prevented him. Harald used this chance to stab at the champion once more, his jagged sword aiming at the other man¡¯s neck. William noticed in time, however, and he countered with a formed rune.

    ¡°Flame Burst!¡±

    Harald stopped his stab, his eyes widening in realization. He released the sword, kicking himself away from William just as the rune was formed. Flames burst from the champion before him, surrounding him in a fiery inferno. Despite Harald¡¯s reaction, he was far from unburnt. The flames singed and cooked his fleeing body, leaving blackened steel and raw skin on his left side. The veteran rolled on the wet ground, instinctively yelling in pain. He felt hot, hotter than ever before. No amount of rain or cold air would soothe the sensations of burnt nerves.

    ¡°You fool,¡± William muttered out. The herald stepped towards the veteran slowly, his own body emanating with heat like no other. Harald knew William was currently suffering from the drawbacks of such a spell. Flame Burst was a casting that could very well cook your insides. The fact William had to use it meant that he was getting desperate.

    ¡°You¡¯re the fool here,¡± Harald managed out. ¡°You¡¯re being led on. Lied to.¡± He looked up at the younger man. ¡°Don¡¯t you see it? The Lumen Kingdom is using you! Look at what they¡¯re making you do!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m doing Azlene¡¯s will! I am protecting this world from the marauders and the abominations your draugr has caused! What¡¯s a city to the rest of this world!?¡±

    ¡°Sacrificing lives is far from what a champion should do,¡± Harald argued.

    ¡°What do you know about being a champion?¡± William asked venomously.

    ¡°More than you,¡± the veteran spat back.

    William could only stare at Harald, his jaw clenching tightly. Without another word, the herald raised his heated sword, his eyes full of murderous intent. The old man could only watch. He knew Kate wouldn¡¯t be able to come and save him. The young woman was fighting against the other soldiers, who had attacked the guardsmen after she interfered.

    Harald knew they were all going to die without his help. Without his guidance.

    ¡®Dammit! If only I wasn¡¯t such an idiot! I let my emotions get to me!¡¯

    He had never let that happen to him. Ever since Harald was a youngin, he had been good at suppressing such emotions. Decades he had been fighting without such weight holding him back. Yet now his past had come and grabbed him by the throat. It had forced him to disregard his instincts and own advice.

    Now here he was, about to watch his pupils become slaughtered, all because he was struck with guilt and emotion. Harald gritted his teeth, his hands clenched into fists.

    ¡®Azlene¡­ Please grant me the power to save what I¡¯ve doomed. Give me the strength to save my pupils and this city. I shall be your servant once more and do whatever bidding you ask of me.¡¯

    No response.

    ¡®Azlene!¡¯ Harald shouted mentally.

    ¡®Give me strength! I shall be your loyal dog if that is what it takes!¡¯

    His prayer went unanswered, leaving the veteran helpless as William swung his weapon down. Harald closed his eyes, his thoughts going out to the goddess one last time.

    ¡®I beg of you. I know you are watching. I know you despise all this destruction. This death. Help me stop all this.¡¯

    Finally, the goddess answered. Thunder boomed in the sky, lightning following as it struck the ground near the two fighters. It caught William off guard, stopping his swing. The herald¡¯s gaze moved to Harald. His expression had turned from anger to complete shock.

    Harald could feel heat surrounding him, encasing him in a warmth he had not felt in years. Knowledge of his spells came back in a flurry, along with the words of Azlene herself. Her soft-spoken voice rushed past his ears, whispering to Harald everything. His debt and his job. The veteran stood up, his left hand raising. He could feel the runes on his chest burn with power once more, his wounds slowly healing from it all.

    Harald had his old power once more. While it was not as strong as it used to be, it was more than enough for the veteran. Azlene had given him his chance. Harald had to use it well.

    ¡°No¡­ NO!¡± William took a step back, his hands shaking with disbelief. ¡°This is impossible! You¡¯re not supposed to be redeemed! You¡¯re supposed to die at my hand!¡±

    Harald spat onto the ground, before he took a couple steps to William. ¡°You¡¯re right about one thing. I¡¯m not redeemed. Not yet.¡± The veteran looked at his broken sword, its dead runes now flowing with magical life. ¡°I gave my life to Azlene. Offered everything to protect this city and my students,¡± Harald explained. ¡°Until that debt is repaid, I shall be her loyal servant. One that will no longer serve leaders. Neither Jarl nor King can tell me what to do.¡±

    ¡°What are you on about? The goddess chose me to save this world! Not you!¡± William sounded hysterical, his breathing growing quick and heavy.

    ¡°She did. Back when we first fought,¡± Harald explained. He thought back to the whispers the goddess had spoken into his ears. ¡°Now however, she believes that you¡¯re not fit to carry the heraldry.¡± The veteran raised his jagged sword to William. ¡°On her behalf, I am to dispatch you and cleanse this city of the marauder and Lumen threat. That is her will and I shall serve it.¡±

    ¡°You lie! If she wanted to dispatch me, she would¡¯ve taken the heraldry herself!¡±

    ¡°You know she cannot do that,¡± Harald pointed out. ¡°It can only be done by a worthy successor or chosen apostle. I am the latter and she will get her way, William.¡±

    William stared at the veteran in disbelief. ¡°No¡­ No no no!¡± He pointed his sword to Harald. ¡°Lies! All lies! You¡¯re using tricks! That¡¯s it! All tricks!¡± William sounded like he was on the verge of a breakdown, his eyes wide with fear and his hands shaking like crazy.

    Harald readied himself with his broken sword. ¡°William. I shall give you one last chance to surrender. To call your men off. We can end this peacefully.¡±

    William stopped for a moment at the sound of the veteran¡¯s calm voice. He shook his head, his weapon raising once more. ¡°I am going to kill you, Stroud. Whether it¡¯s the last thing I do!¡±

    <hr>

    Deimos stomped on the last of the thieves, his boot squeezing the life out the little bastard¡¯s throat. ¡°Worthless bugs,¡± he muttered. These thieves were clearly inexperienced in combat, as evidenced from the bodies that surrounded the Red Death. They had only landed a mere few nicks on his armor, far from what the orcs had done. Deimos stepped through the next room of the guild house, his gaze peeking the corners. No one was left in here it seemed.

    Deimos had entered the guild house, hoping to find a much more suitable fighter. Instead, he found cowering thieves and hiding city folk. Of course, no one was spared, but that had done nothing to scratch the man¡¯s itch for a challenge.

    ¡°You would think this city would have much more suitable fighters and defenders,¡± Deimos muttered as he entered another room. This one was much bigger, with a balcony to overlook it. Banners were hung everywhere, showcasing a hand picking up a valdora piece.

    ¡°What is this?¡± Deimos asked himself as he walked around. It looked to be a meeting room, one that probably housed any and all gatherings of those filthy thieves. As Deimos examined the intricacies of the guild house, footsteps rang out from the hallway he came from. The Red Death turned to the sound. Were more thieves coming to avenge their fallen brothers? No, that would be too much to expect from these bottom-feeders. This was something else, judging from the heavy steps that rang out.

    ¡®Steel plate boots. Knights I presume?¡¯

    Deimos found himself grinning as more identical steps sounded out.

    Soon enough, these footsteps culminated in steel clad figures filing out of the doorways. Swords and spears were drawn and pointed at the Red Death, their respective users surrounding the man in black armor. Deimos eyed them all, recognizing the red wax stamp they bore on their chests. All but one person had this, that being a young witch that was already forming runes with her fingers.

    ¡°I suppose this isn¡¯t a surrender?¡± He asked the group of knights.

    ¡°Deimos of the North!¡± One knight called out. He stepped forward, his sword at the ready. ¡°You have committed atrocities to Delphine and her people for far too long! For decades you have done nothing but revolt and fight us! Murdered and pillaged our towns and islands for nothing more than greedy gain! I shall put you to the sword myself!¡±

    Deimos sighed. He had heard this spiel far too many times. ¡°Yes yes. I know. However, I have a question.¡± He raised his ax to the witch. ¡°You are not like the rest. Interestingly enough, you¡¯re a dark magic user. Why do you face me so with Lumen bastards at your side?¡±

    The witch could only stare at him, her emotions turning from disgust to rage. ¡°Five years ago, you raided a small town north of Yorn¡¯s territory. Rykestead. You killed someone there.¡±

    Deimos raised his eyebrow. ¡°That town? I do remember taking it over. I don¡¯t remember killing anyone but¡­ Oh.¡± The chieftain chuckled. ¡°The lone guardsman at the docks. Called me a disgrace to the Valenfrost. Who was he to you? Lover? Father?¡±

    ¡°Brother,¡± the witch answered through gritted teeth. ¡°I swore since that day I would take your head. This is my one chance.¡±

    Deimos laughed at the young woman¡¯s words. ¡°Such vigor in your voice! I do hope you put up a fight. I know your brother didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°You fucking scum! Night Spray!¡± The witch¡¯s words were accompanied by a flurry of purple fireflies, all of them flying towards Deimos.

    ¡°You idiot!¡± One of the Lumen knights called out to the witch, his feet stepping back to avoid the spell. Deimos took the chance to rush the affected knight, his hands swinging the ax in his grip.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± His casting pushed his ax towards the knight¡¯s head in hopes of a quick kill. Instead, the knight saw it coming. He dodged, avoiding a strike to the head. Still, Deimos wouldn¡¯t end it there. He used all his strength to redirect the ax, trying to keep it on course. The ax-head instead smashed into the knight¡¯s shoulder, cutting through enchanted steel and gambeson. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but it was enough. Deimos quickly forced the knight to the side right after the hit, using his body as a shield against the Night Spray spell.

    The knight screamed in pain, his body squirming and shuddering in Deimos¡¯ hold. When the smell of cooked flesh and burning steel reached his nostrils, he knew he was safe.

    ¡°Lucard!¡± one knight called. Another of the armored fool rushed in, his spear aimed for Deimos. The chieftain saw it coming, his hands shoving Lucard¡¯s body in the way. The spear pierced raw flesh, giving Deimos an opening. Avoiding Lucard¡¯s screams, he rushed ahead with his ax, swinging at the spearman¡¯s head.

    Cold steel made contact with the fleshy exposed neck, and the spearman¡¯s shouts were soon gargled. Even without castings, Deimos¡¯ swing was deadly. The Red Death kicked the body away, letting it bleed out as he rushed at the next knight.

    ¡°Needle Shot!¡± The woman¡¯s shout was accompanied by a casting, her left hand forming a rune. Deimos quickly jumped aside, avoiding the arcane spell. However, it also left him open. Another knight came in right after, exploiting his folly.

    ¡°Precision Strike!¡±

    The knight¡¯s sword struck Deimos on his side, piercing through the small gap in his armor. The chieftain winced in pain, his teeth grinding as he grabbed at the bastard¡¯s sword. He held it in place, his left hand forming a rune.

    ¡°Arcane Bolt!¡± Deimos¡¯ spell flew at the knight at top speed, colliding against the steel chest piece. Unfortunately, the spell did nothing but leave a sizable dent. It appeared that the fucker¡¯s armor was enchanted. Before Deimos could form another rune, the female knight from before rushed in, accompanied by another ally of hers.

    Deimos defended himself, using his armored gauntlet to block the sword attacks and spear pokes. Still, sharp bites of pain still came through, cutting and slicing through flesh and gambeson. Deimos would soon have enough, his hands grabbed both spear and sword. The knights before him struggled, but the chieftain held onto the weapons tightly. As a result, the third knight came in from the right, his hand brandishing the marauder¡¯s ax. Deimos expected this, his grin growing as he released his grip on both the spear and sword.

    ¡°Temporal Parry.¡±

    Steel flashed, and magic was spent. In just a second, Deimos had his ax back, his body burning with an intense heat he had not felt in ages. The knight who had tried to strike him was now nothing more than a corpse, his head mangled and his armor horribly scarred. Deimos looked to the last two knights, who stumbled back in shock. Deimos rushed ahead, throwing his ax at the woman with the sword. The knight hurried to block it, her weapon raising. This left her ally alone for a second. A second that would prove fatal.

    The knight would try to use a spear to fend off Deimos, but the chieftain simply grabbed the spear¡¯s shaft and pulled hard. The knight stumbled forward, his eyes visible through the small slit in his helmet. He was terrified. The chieftain¡¯s hands moved to grab the knight¡¯s armored helm, his voice turning ethereal for a moment.

    ¡°Adrenal Surge,¡± Deimos chanted, his body gaining a burst of strength in response. In that split second, the Red Death used all his power to crush the knight¡¯s head inwards.

    Without wasting time, Deimos grabbed the dead man¡¯s spear and threw it with all his strength at the last knight. She had just avoided contact with the ax; her gaze moving to Deimos at the right moment. The Lumen Knight could only manage a small shout of fear before the spearhead pierced through her helmet, its shaft running half its length through her skull. The knight¡¯s body stumbled a bit as a result, her hands reaching out to the thin air. Soon enough, she would fall back, her twitching cadaver going limp.

    Deimos stood up straight, his breathing hard and his body burning. For the first time in a while, he had bled.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± he panted out. ¡°Now¡­ for the wit¨C¡±

    Deimos blinked. The room he had been in was gone. Instead, he was standing in inch high water. It ran for miles, the only horizon being the oblivion that blanketed the sky. Mist slowly rolled in, surrounding his ankles. Deimos raised his eyebrow, his gaze moving to the bodies that had stayed.

    His heart dropped at the sight of the corpses. They were no longer knights. Instead, they had changed to the form of other people. A man in a light red cloak and light gambeson. He bore the symbol of a tree on his chest, a symbol Deimos had not seen in decades. Another body depicted an elderly man with a similar garb, his eyes staring at the red death with a look that showcased accusation. Another was a young boy, his chest caved in and his eyes pulled out. The last one was someone he did not want to look at.

    ¡°What is this?¡± Deimos murmured.

    ¡°Sigrid,¡± a soft female voice called out. Deimos blinked and turned to the source. It was her. The source of the voice was a young woman, one that was in her late twenties. She had black hair that flowed freely to her shoulders. Her skin was like fair ivory, her eyes a faint green and blue.

    ¡°You,¡± the chieftain called out. ¡°How¡­?¡±

    ¡°You were having a horrible dream,¡± she explained. The young woman stepped forward, her hand raising to Deimos.

    Deimos accepted it, his larger hands gently caressing them. ¡°A dream,¡± he repeated.

    ¡°Yes, a dream,¡± the woman confirmed. ¡°Sigrid, please stop this. This death and destruction.¡± She sounded worried, as she always was. ¡°Let us live in peace, like we¡¯ve always talked about.¡± She begged softly. Deimos was quiet as she came closer. Her hands crept up to his horned helmet, her fingers gently grazing the blackened steel. ¡°Take off this armor and that symbol. Let us be at peace, Sigrid.¡±

    The chieftain slapped her hand away from his helmet. ¡°My name is Deimos.¡±

    ¡°What? What are you¨C?¡±

    Deimos interrupted her, his right hand grabbing at the illusion¡¯s throat. As soon as he did so, the world around changed back to normal. The woman he had once loved transformed in that moment, changing into the witch from before.

    ¡°What?! H-How?!¡± The witch gasped out in shock.

    Deimos grinned. ¡°It shall take much more than sweet words and images of the past to take me down.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ I showed you what you wanted? How could you kill the one thing you loved the most?¡±

    Deimos only chuckled, his other hand moving in to grab the witch¡¯s throat much more efficiently. ¡°I¡¯ve already killed what I¡¯ve loved. That is why such illusions will never work,¡± he whispered to the witch. With that, Deimos squeezed slowly, watching with sick glee as the witch¡¯s life was snuffed out of her eyes.

    <hr>

    Dimitri did his best to make not one sound. The rest of his crew were doing the same, their eyes full of primal fear and shock. They had all sat by as Deimos massacred the Thieves'' Guild hideout.

    The shipmaster and his crew had arrived at the hideout at the worst of moments, right when Deimos had found it. They were wise enough to stay hidden and quiet, watching as the chieftain slaughtered thieves and knights alike. They stood no chance against him.

    Dimitri could hear how Deimos threw aside the witch¡¯s corpse, her body making a light thud on the floor near his hiding spot. The shipmaster was currently tucked into a tight corner of the guild storage rooms. Piles of silver and valdoras littered the room, making it even harder for the man to move around quietly. The rest of his crew sat nearby, their gazes fixed on the entrance to the storage room. While the entrance was hidden well, they could still catch the glimpse of the outside world.

    Dimitri had the better viewpoint, his eyes watching as the Red Death strolled around the room. He caught glimpses of the chieftain, who was covered in wounds and dents. Deimos wasn¡¯t even healing himself, yet Dimitri could see how the man¡¯s bloodied wounds were slowly healing.

    ¡®His armor¡­ It can¡¯t be¡­¡¯

    It was. The shipmaster was witness to the process of healing runes, enchantments that are far from common. Deimos¡¯ armor was home to such magic, the effects of it healing his battle wounds and reforming the dents and nicks in his armor. While slow, Dimitri couldn¡¯t help but feel as if the Red Death was unkillable. Can James even stand up to such a monster?

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    As the shipmaster contemplated, he heard the telltale clink of a valdora hitting a pile of silver. His heart dropped at the miniscule sound. One of his crew had accidentally knocked the coin over a crate. Deimos¡¯ stroll stopped immediately at the sound, the chieftain¡¯s body shifting to the storage room. While Dimitri couldn¡¯t see his face, he knew Deimos was smiling.

    He could only watch as the Red Death approached the room, his boots echoing one by one. Dimitri felt all the hope in his body drain away. There was no winning this fight. Not against Deimos. His crew all seem to realize this, as their gazes turned to Dimitri in despair. Even Liam looked like he had lost all hope for living. After everything they had gone through together, this was where Dimitri¡¯s luck had ended.

    I¡¯m sorry, Dimitri mouthed. He felt guilt weighing him down, his body losing all control as he slumped against the wall. He could only count the seconds as Deimos grabbed at the storage room¡¯s door.

    Suddenly, thunder boomed above. It wasn¡¯t any ordinary boom, no; it was one that was surprisingly close to the guild house. It was much more different from the regular lightning as well, its echo much more pronounced and deafening.

    ¡®Magic?¡¯ Dimitri questioned. Deimos stopped his movements, his body still. Dimitri watched in slow agony as the chieftain contemplated. After what seemed like forever, the Red Death stepped away from the door, his body turning for the stairs.

    Even after Deimos would leave, it would be a long time before Dimitri or any of his crew made a sound. Once they did, it was out of relief and fear, their voices overlapping as they comforted each other.

    <hr>

    Lilith felt scared. It was a feeling not too uncommon with her. She had felt it back when she fought that huge knight. Back when Seamus nearly died. Back during Aldren¡¯s fall. It had gripped her like a vise, yet Lilith pushed through. The young woman had always pushed through it. The fear only motivated her, pushing her to survive.

    ¡°Get moving!¡± Helen shouted out from behind. The blonde woman looked how Lilith felt. Scared. She too had the look in her eyes. The one that showed fear of loss and death.

    Lilith kept moving through the dark rain, her eyes trying to adjust to the alleyway¡¯s pitch black shadows. She could see the shaman ahead of her, trying to peek corners whilst moving as quickly as she could. The gnomes and that dwarf were right behind, carrying around that hefty totem. The young woman had no idea what it did, but she knew it was important. Vital even. It was her duty to protect these gnomes and their totem. Seamus had entrusted this goal to her.

    Thunder boomed and lightning crackled in the sky, this time much closer than the young woman expected. It looked like it had struck somewhere in the city. Before she could question, another bolt of lightning struck, thunder sounding out almost immediately. As a result, the alleyway lit up. In that instant, Lilith felt dread. There was a shirtless man in the shadows, his arms carrying a large hammer. The young woman¡¯s voice died in her voice as she tried to scream and yell at the man. Yet even that was too slow. She could only watch as the bearded man jumped down into the alleyway, his hammer raised. Lilith pushed past Helen and another guard, her hands equipping her two axes.

    Everything was slow. Lilith could see how Dahlia lunged with her sword, her yell inaudible through the thunder. The gnomes could only watch in horror, their bodies stiff and frozen. Rockford the dwarf tried to intervene, but he, too, was slow. The berserker before Lilith could only grin as he swung his warhammer on the closest gnome. Gore and gray matter flew as the hammer obliterated the small man¡¯s head, sending specks of bone and blood everywhere.

    Lilith watched all of this transpire in less than a second, her heart dropping and her eyes widening. She watched as the male gnome¡¯s body went limp, falling to the ground right after the strike. The female gnome could only scream in terror, her hands dropping the totem. The old dwarf rushed at the man responsible, but his face was violently kicked in by the fearsome man. Lilith roared with anger, her legs propelling her body toward the berserker. Her axes struck steel, the bastard¡¯s warhammer acting as a defense.

    The hammer then pushed the young woman back before it swung at her with blinding speed. Lilith raised her axes to defend, but Helen moved in to do it for her. The blonde woman raised her shield, taking the attack head on. A second later, she flew back to Lilith, knocking her down. As the young woman shifted on the ground, her thoughts reminded her of one more person.

    ¡®Dahlia!¡¯

    Lilith raised her head, spotting the shaman avoiding the strikes of the berserker. A guard tried to get in to help, but he ended up getting his chest crushed in. The other guards around took a step back, trying to find another opening.

    Lilith saw how severe the wound was, which made her move to check in on Helen. The older woman was currently trying to get up, using her spear to hold her weight. The shield she used was far from useful, as it now consisted of two broken pieces. Lilith went to help but Helen shrugged her off.

    ¡°Go help Dahlia! That berserker is going to kill her!¡±

    Lilith nodded and focused her attention on the shaman. Dahlia was using her shield to try and defend, but even that was proving to be useless. The berserker¡¯s swing was deadly and stronger than an average orc¡¯s. Lilith raised her two axes and focused her breathing. She needed to be calm and precise. Just like back on that island.

    The young woman rushed at the berserker ahead, her axes swinging in sync. The berserker noticed this and turned to meet her advance. Lilith slid on the wet ground, avoiding the hammer swing from the man. Her axes flashed and struck at the man¡¯s leg and belly. Perfect spots to set up an evisceration kill. Yet her strikes hit nothing but rain. Lilith blinked and realized that this man had foreseen her attacks and dodged accordingly.

    The berserker raised his hammer once more, before he swung down on Lilith. Lilith quickly dodged, her eyes watching the hammerhead strike the ground with enough force to splinter it. In less than a second, the young woman was back up and ready to fight again. She stared her opponent down, who looked to be interested in Lilith.

    ¡°What is this?¡± He laughed. ¡°Someone who can match my speed?¡± He pointed his hammer at the young woman. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    Lilith only stared, her axes raising once more.

    ¡°Silent type, eh?¡± The man laughed. ¡°Good. I hate talkers.¡± He grinned.

    ¡°Lars!¡± Another voice called out. Lilith risked a glance to the source. There was a man in black armor, his hands carrying a sword and shield. ¡°We are here to stop the totem, nothing more!¡±

    ¡°Silence!¡± Lars exploded at the other man. ¡°You have your goal! I have mine! Do not interfere, Gustus!¡±

    ¡°We have a mission to do¨C!¡± an incoming spear interrupted Gustus, its pointed edge scratching against his shield.

    ¡°Shut the fuck up and fight!¡± Helen shouted, her feet kicking at the armored man¡¯s shield.

    ¡°That is more like it!¡± Lars laughed.

    ¡°Dahlia! Get out of here! Get that totem to the center, no matter what!¡± Helen shouted. The shaman could only stare dumbly, her mouth opening to protest. ¡°No matter what!¡± Helen shouted once more, her spear stabbing at Gustus. The other man slapped it away with his shield before he tried a slash at the blonde woman. Helen barely dodged it. ¡°Go Dahlia! Lilith and I will handle these two!¡±

    Dahlia looked conflicted, her face contorting into several emotions. Yet she did not argue. She instead pulled the female gnome away from her companion¡¯s body, her voice calling out to the guardsmen around.

    ¡°Anyone who¡¯s still alive! Let¡¯s go!¡±

    The guardsmen and the shaman hurried to the totem, picking it up in the wide alleyway. Gustus tried to intervene but was cut off by Helen again.

    ¡°We¡¯re not finished!¡± Lars shouted at the guardsmen. He moved in to block them off, but Lilith rushed in. Her axes swung at the man, who blocked it cleanly with his hammer¡¯s staff.

    ¡°Persistent are you?!¡± He shouted in glee. Lilith only backed away, her axes moving in for another strike. Lars blocked it once more before he recuperated with his own strike. Both berserker and woman fought then and there, their strikes ringing out in the rain.

    ¡®Protect Dahlia and the totem! No matter what!¡¯

    <hr>

    Archibald was reaching his limit. For every marauder he put down, three more always came into their place. The surrounding men were falling one by one, their raven emblems becoming stained in crimson. Marauders were growing by the number, their overwhelming force enough to push the small group back. The elf wasn¡¯t sure why he was still alive, but he did not question. He just kept stabbing and thrusting his rapier, his body struggling to keep its pose for every strike.

    ¡°Come at me! Is that all you got?!¡± Bjorn¡¯s shout caught Archibald¡¯s attention, causing the elf to risk a glance at the dwarf. Bjorn was having the time of his life, his ax cutting down weaklings whilst his shield blocked off spears and arrows. Through the chaos of the night, he looked to be in his element.

    ¡°We have to retreat!¡± Archibald called out to Bjorn. ¡°We¡¯re becoming overwhelmed!¡±

    ¡°Fine by me! It means I have more to fight!¡± Bjorn grinned as he bashed another of the marauders. Archibald could see how the dwarf was covered in bleeding wounds, his eyepatch torn off at some point.

    ¡°We¡¯re getting surrounded, you dolt! We have to fall back and strategize!¡± Archibald argued. He dodged another attack, his rapier¡¯s tip quickly dispatching the marauder behind it.

    ¡°You can fall back! I¡¯ll keep fighting!¡± Bjorn shouted.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± The elf cursed. ¡°Everyone! Fall back behind Bjorn! Make your way to the bridge!¡± Archibald watched as the rest of their group slowly backed away from the fight, their shields and weapons up. Some wouldn¡¯t make it, as marauders took advantage of their retreat.

    Men around the elf died, with both marauder and raven losing blood and appendages. Archibald pushed through, gritting his teeth as he fought off the surrounding bastards.

    ¡°Multi-Strike!¡± His rapier glowed a bright blue at the sound of his voice, its tip quickly thrusting forward. His muscles screamed with effort, his arm a blur as it struck at the marauders before him. Archibald didn¡¯t know if he was hitting any of them. All he knew was that it was keeping him alive.

    Soon enough, the elf would reach solace, his feet feeling the elevating wood of the bridge. He looked behind him, seeing how some ravens made it to the other side alive. The only ones left to cross were Archibald and Bjorn.

    ¡°Bjorn! We have to¨C¡± Just as Archibald spoke, he felt someone grab at his collar. The elf was thrown back just in time to avoid a deadly strike from a mace. He landed on the bridge, stunned and surprised. Bjorn was before him, the dwarf¡¯s shield raised. Archibald could see how Bjorn¡¯s body was wounded, his leg having a noticeable limp. His breathing was hard, probably from all the castings he had used.

    ¡°Fall back, Archibland,¡± the dwarf called back. ¡°I¡¯ll hold them off.¡±

    The elf blinked. ¡°The hel you will! We¡¯re falling back together!¡± Archibald quickly sprang from the ground, his rapier moving to stab the bastard that had come up to the narrow bridge. Delilah stabbed clear through the marauder¡¯s bare chest, hitting his heart with precision. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving you behind!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to!¡± Bjorn exerted himself once again, his ax cleaving a marauder¡¯s jaw off.

    ¡°They¡¯re going to keep following us¡­ Regardless of how far we run. Keeping them here ensures more time for Dahlia and those gnomes!¡± The dwarf explained all of this in heaving breaths. He raised his shield once again, blocking off a sword slash. Archibald stared at the dwarf, who continuously held off the group of marauders.

    ¡°More will come!¡± The elf panted as he cut down another man. ¡°These rabble will continue to grow! To push!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll hold them off!¡± Bjron exclaimed with another strike. ¡°Just go! Dahlia and her group need help! No matter what, we need to help! This is our way!¡± Bjorn turned to the elf. ¡°I¡¯ll keep them from crossing this bridge, even if it¡¯s the last thing I do!¡± He shouted as he bashed someone with his shield. Archibald hesitated, but nodded. There was no room for arguing. Time was running thin.

    ¡°Alright¡­ I¡¯ll go!¡± He finally gave in. The elf slowly stepped back, watching as the dwarf held off marauder after marauder. Archibald began to turn, to run off with the rest of the ravens. Yet he couldn¡¯t. A certain tightness grabbed at his chest, stopping Archibald in his tracks. He gritted his teeth, his head turning back to the dwarf once more.

    ¡°Just¡­ Just don¡¯t die!¡± The elf called out. Bjorn didn¡¯t look back, but Archibald knew that he was grinning.

    ¡°None of these savages shall pass this bridge. That is my word! My promise!¡±

    ¡°Just stay alive! No matter what!¡± Archibald called back. With that said, he turned and ran, leaving Bjorn to the horde of marauders.

    <hr>

    ¡°Thunder Lance!¡±

    Falrick¡¯s shout was accompanied by the blinding whiteness of lightning, followed by the booming thunder it emitted. The Wizard¡¯s spell flew through the air like an arrow, its jagged edge aimed for the cursed beholder user. Eli simply raised his hand at the flying spell, his eyes flashing brightly. In just a moment, a large barrier of magic was raised, shattering once the thunder lance impacted it. Seamus squinted through the bright flash of magic, trying to get a good view of the action before him. Yet he could see very little through the air of smog that had resulted from the clash of spells.

    Before the smoke could clear, however, Haggard came from the marauder¡¯s flank. The drifter raised his hammer, which glowed a bright red.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± He had bolstered the casting, as evidenced from the way his body tensed and the speed his hammer was moving. Eli quickly backed away, his hands raising in defense. A wall of mist came up to defend him, blocking the drifter. Yet Haggard¡¯s strike tore through it like nothing, filling the air with what sounded like glass breaking.

    The hammer kept its trajectory, aiming to hit Eli in mere moments. The beholder user countered once more, this time with flowing spears that materialized from the mist around him. Haggard was struck with the jagged points, his body faltering and his hammer missing Eli. While his armor shrugged off most of the hastily made spears, some of them managed to hit his leg and shoulder, breaking the drifter¡¯s Carapace buff and sending streaks of red flying out.

    Seamus rushed in at this point, his sword flying at Eli. He was scared, terrified even. Yet he knew he couldn¡¯t allow Haggard to die right here. Eli saw the young man coming at him, the spellcaster¡¯s hands moving to gesture towards Seamus.

    ¡°I suppose you want to die with him!¡± He shouted. Seamus felt his body freeze up, the coward in him returning in full force. He was faced with the sharp ends of multiple spears, all them racing towards him.

    ¡°Barrier!¡±

    ¡°Lightning Strike!¡±

    Both Nathan¡¯s and Falrick¡¯s voices boomed with magical ability, both of their castings protecting Seamus whilst also distracting Eli. Seamus stumbled back, watching how the blue barrier before him cracked and fractured. Nathan¡¯s barrier spell quickly dispatched the spears, while Falrick¡¯s spell scarred the floor and struck Eli at the same time. The smell of burnt wood and ozone filled the young man¡¯s nostrils, making him want to cough and gag. The old Wizard looked to Seamus, his hand gesturing to Seamus to get away.

    ¡°Seamus! Stay back! This is a battle you cannot win!¡±

    Falrick¡¯s warning was accompanied by the booming of thunder, with a strike of lightning breaching the roof of the chamber right after.

    ¡°Barrier!¡± Falrick quickly conjured a blue barrier of magic almost immediately after the thunder, his staff aimed at the air. The strike shattered the barrier, sending another boom of thunder that echoed throughout the room. More smoke and dust filled the air, followed along with the light pattering of rain that came from the hole the lighting strike made.

    ¡°I can use lightning magic too, asshole,¡± Eli¡¯s voice called out. The beholder user walked from the smoke, his eyes glinting with power. He made his way to Falrick, who was currently on the ground. The Wizard had been knocked back from the lightning strike, his sluggish body movements showing that he was concussed. Seamus could see how Falrick¡¯s staff was now in two pieces.

    ¡°Burn!¡± A voice called out. Flames came in immediately after the shout, cutting Eli off from Falrick. Seamus turned to the source, watching how Nathan stepped up. The younger Wizard already had his wooden staff at the ready, his shout echoing.

    ¡°Encase Flame!¡± His spell summoned the flames around Eli, which quickly formed into a spiral that went around the marauder. However, it was quickly blocked off, this time by that damned mist. The mist was immediate and effective, blocking off the harmful flames from Nathan.

    Eli¡¯s eyes glowing brightly as he commanded the mist that surrounded him. Nathan gritted his teeth, clearly frustrated. He slammed his staff on the ground, his voice calling out once more.

    ¡°Encase Flame!¡± The gem on the staff¡¯s tip glowed a bright red, a clear sign that the spell was bolstered. As a result, the flames of the Wizard¡¯s casting blasted against the spellcaster¡¯s mist shield once more, its heat felt throughout the room. Seamus had to cover his face to block the wave of hot air that came from that. The spell soon dissipated, along with the black mist that had covered Eli. The spell had done nothing. The beholder user simply stood there, his expression full of glee and amusement.

    ¡°My turn,¡± Eli called out. He raised his hands, which dripped with dark magic. Seamus braced himself, expecting more of those blackened spears to come at him. Instead, the spellcaster summoned something else entirely. Flames appeared around the room, their heat rivaling Nathan¡¯s own spells. They were also purple, a departure from the usual orange and yellow flames the young Wizard produced.

    Eli made a gesture and the flames shifted from their spots. They raged towards Nathan, who raised his staff in response.

    ¡°Fog Cloud!¡± Mist exploded from the Wizard¡¯s position, filling the room in the smog. Still, thanks to the flames from earlier, Seamus could see the outline of Nathan. The Wizard avoided Eli¡¯s flames with ease, his staff raising for another spell.

    ¡°Summon Water!¡± His words were accompanied by the rumbling of the ground, causing everyone to wobble and stumble. The wooden floor beneath splintered and cracked. Thin streams of water pierced out of the floor, summoned the sea below.

    Nathan shouted a couple more words out, ones that Seamus couldn¡¯t catch. Still, he could see what the Wizard was planning to do. The summoned streams of water turned sharp at Nathan¡¯s command, their jagged edges rushing towards Eli. While mist covered everything, the beholder user was still visible. His eyes burned through the fog, lighting him up like a beacon. Black mist came in to overshadow the fog, forming to block off the water spears.

    ¡°Creative! For a peasant!¡± Eli shouted.

    Nathan raised his staff once more, moving to cast one more spell. Yet he wouldn¡¯t be able to. Seamus could only watch as a black spear shot up from underneath the floorboards, its tip flashing towards the young Wizard¡¯s head. Blood was spilt and Seamus saw the man¡¯s red crooked hat fly through the air, its brim and base ripped through.

    Nathan stumbled a bit, but he retained his posture. He raised his staff, his voice booming throughout the chamber.

    ¡°Fireball!¡±

    Just at the sound of the word, Seamus dropped to the floor in fear. The madman was casting a Fireball in an enclosed space.

    In just a moment, a ball of fire and destruction flew towards the beholder user. Eli simply stood there, his hand making a quick gesture. Black mist rose up almost immediately, blocking the Fireball in its path. Still, it boomed and sent shrapnel everywhere. Seamus had to curl up in a ball to avoid getting hit. Once it was over, the young man peeked from his position. Through the mist and smoke, he could see the Wizard¡¯s outline. He was in the same spot, his staff shaking.

    Eli sighed. ¡°Are you finished? Good.¡± He raised his hand, his flames from before rushing towards Nathan.

    The Wizard before him struggled to stand up straight, his staff raising one last time.

    ¡°Magi Shield!¡±

    The Wizard¡¯s bubble shield only lasted for a moment before a barrage of blackened spears shot through it, shattering it. Seamus watched with wide eyes, spotting the Wizard¡¯s body recoil violently from the impact of one spear that had managed to hit him. Purple flames engulfed Nathan right after the spear, before bursting into a fiery explosion.

    ¡°No¡­ No no no!¡± Seamus couldn¡¯t believe it. He had just watched a man known for his mastery of magic die in front of him. Eli had simply dispatched him like he was nothing.

    ¡°You¡­ You bastard!¡± Seamus shouted in anger and rushed at Eli, his sword ready. The marauder raised an eyebrow, his hand raising towards Seamus. More spears came at the young man, but Seamus didn¡¯t care. He just kept running.

    Something then clicked in Seamus. It was like everything was slow. His body felt lighter and his thoughts were almost completely different.

    ¡®Dodge! Dodge it all!¡¯

    Seamus held his breath, jaw clenched as he ran in full speed. He jumped over the first spear, his torso shifting to avoid the second and third. His sword deflected the fourth, its edge grinding against its length. Seamus locked gazes with Eli, their eyes staring at each other for a moment. Eli looked stunned, his expression that of complete surprise.

    Seamus yelled as he swung at Eli, his weapon gliding through the thick humid air. Before he knew it however, the sound of shattering filled his ears. The blue shards of his Carapace buff flew through the air and something stabbed at the young man¡¯s gut.

    Seamus felt his eyes widen, his gaze moving down to the spear that had penetrated past his armor and to his stomach. This spear was smaller than the others, possibly made out of desperation. Still, it hurt like hell and Seamus could feel his anger dissipate almost immediately. Before Eli or Seamus could do or say anything, someone tackled and grabbed Seamus, yanking him away from the marauder.

    ¡°You idiot!¡± Haggard shouted.

    ¡°I¡­ I lost it again.¡± Seamus managed out in a gasp.

    ¡®Stupid stupid!¡¯

    This wasn¡¯t the only time Seamus¡¯ anger had gotten the best of him. It had nearly got him killed back during last Frost, when he fought those Lumen soldiers. Now it seemed like he had pushed his luck too far again.

    ¡°I¡¯m bleeding¡­¡± Seamus dumbly muttered. He looked at his wound, which started to form a small red mark on his armor.

    ¡°You¡¯re fine!¡± Haggard assured Seamus. The drifter pressed his fingers against the light wound, which stung a little. ¡°He didn¡¯t pierce that deep. Your armor and Carapace buff protected you well.¡±

    Seamus was about to ask Haggard about Falrick, but was interrupted when he felt a wave of heat coming from nearby.

    ¡°Shit!¡±

    Eli had sent a wave of purple flames, their focus on the two men.

    ¡°Magi Shield!¡± In an instant, a bubble was formed around both Haggard and Seamus, protecting them from the fire. Once they cleared out, Seamus could spot the Wizard who had casted it. Falrick stood there, his hands shaking as they formed the rune necessary for the shield

    ¡°You all are getting on my nerves,¡± Eli called out. ¡°What kind of idiot risks themselves for a third rate magic user?¡±

    ¡°His name was Nathan!¡± Seamus shouted out. The young man moved out of Haggard¡¯s hold, his feet stumbling as he tried to stand up straight. ¡°He was a better man than you!¡±

    ¡°He was dirty gutter trash. A peasant who had the gall to call himself a Wizard.¡± The beholder user sighed. ¡°I¡¯m surprised he held out as long as he did.¡± He talked of Nathan as if he was a thorn. Like he was nothing more than just an annoyance. ¡°Don¡¯t you agree, old man?¡± Eli asked the older Wizard, who was still trying to collect himself.

    Falrick just stared at the marauder, his expression darkening slowly. ¡°I¡¯m going to do what I should have done from the beginning. What I should have done back at the fort.¡± Falrick slammed his palms together, his fingers quickly forming runes.

    ¡°Another spell?¡± Eli laughed. ¡°You lot really are persistent.¡±

    Falrick clenched his jaw. ¡°Seamus! Haggard! No matter what happens tonight, we must kill him! No matter what! This city is counting on us!¡± The Wizard turned to the two. ¡°Ready yourselves! For we shall take our final stand!¡±

    ¡°You got it,¡± Haggard murmured. The drifter limped his way to Seamus¡¯ side, his hammer raised. ¡°Are you ready?¡± He asked. Seamus nodded and readied his sword. His wound was still bothering him, its pain almost making the young man falter his stance. Yet he kept his resolve, his body tensing up. He needed to push all the fear back, all the anger, everything.

    ¡°This might be fun, actually,¡± Eli chuckled. ¡°Come one then! Give me your all!¡± That seemed to do it. Falrick raised his hands, the rune they formed glowing brightly.

    ¡°Thunder Flash!¡±

 B.3 Chapter 48: Fate

    Elaine rushed through the rain, her hood and torn cloak doing very little to protect her from the cold downpour. Dahlia ran alongside her, as well as did the remaining guardsmen. The remaining two gnomes and that injured dwarf carried the totem behind them, their expressions stricken and grim. Elaine felt terrible. Where she had expected an adventure, she had only seen suffering and death. The bards back home never chronicled such things. They never told of the horrific side of battle. They only sang about the hero and their triumph.

    Ever since the bard came here, she had seen nothing but needless death. Bjorn, Archibald, Helen, and that berserker. They had all stayed behind to allow Dahlia and her group to keep going. Yet even Elaine knew it would not last long. She looked past her shoulder, checking to see if those marauders were still on their tail. There was only darkness, the streets and alleys of the city only becoming visible whenever lightning flashed.

    ¡°Stop!¡± Dahlia hissed. Everyone skidded to a stop in the alleyway, including the ones who carried the totem. The shaman was in the lead, her fist raised. She was gripping onto her sword with her left, her thumb pushing against the guard. Elaine held her breath, watching as Dahlia peeked out into the street. The shaman went still for a moment before she turned to everyone. Their group consisted of four guardsmen, three thieves, two gnomes, a dwarf, and Elaine herself. All together, they were a group of twelve. Dahlia looked to be counting, her gaze moving from person to person. Once she was done, she took a deep breath.

    ¡°The center is up ahead. I can see the tower.¡±

    Elaine could feel her hopes rise, her heart beating quickly at the thought.

    ¡®We did it! We won!¡¯

    However, the bard¡¯s victory was short-lived once she caught Dahlia¡¯s expression underneath that steel helm. Guilt and hesitance were visible on her face. She had the look of someone preparing to give horrible news.

    ¡°It¡¯s a war zone out there. The marauders had already reached the center. Along with the Lumen soldiers.¡± The shaman shook her head. ¡°The courtyard is exposed too, making it impossible for us to reach the center building without being seen.¡±

    Elaine¡¯s heart dropped at the shaman¡¯s announcement. A feeling of dread soon weighed onto her chest as Dahlia turned to her. No words were needed to communicate what the shaman expected from the bard. Elaine swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to walk up to Dahlia. She reached for her lute, which had been slung on her back this entire time. Once Elaine reached the end of the alleyway, her fingers were already tuning the strings on the instrument.

    The bard peeked out to the courtyard ahead, her eyes widening at the sight. Like Dahlia had said, it was like a full on war. Spells and arrows whizzed through the courtyard, spellcasters from the Lumen side trying to cover for their allies whilst marauders pushed from the eastern side of the city. Thieves and city guards were also in the fray, most of them trying to defend the tower at the center. There was so much chaos that the young bard wasn¡¯t sure if they would even make it, buffs or not. Still, she had to try. This was the last stretch.

    ¡°Nimble feet and protection should get us through,¡± Elaine explained. She glanced at Dahlia. ¡°Are you sure about this?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have another option. We¡¯re running out of time,¡± the shaman muttered. She turned back at the rest of their group, who were all watching with bated breath. Dahlia sighed. ¡°Everyone, form up around the totem. Protect the gnomes and Rockford,¡± she commanded. They all moved without hesitation, some guards even using their shields to cover the totem and its carriers.

    ¡°Elaine, you¡¯re in the front with me. I¡¯ll cover you,¡± Dahlia unhitched the shield from her back. The bard nodded nervously, her hands positioning the lute. ¡°When Elaine casts her spells, we run!¡± The shaman called out as she raised her shield.

    Elaine took a deep breath, her eyes closing as she mentally recited the castings in her mind. Finally, she opened her eyes, her fingers strumming the lute¡¯s strings. Beautiful notes sounded out into the air, reverberating in the alleyway. If one focused enough, the music could almost drown out the sounds of battle. Almost.

    ¡°Alleviate our weights and make us swift, Nimble Feet!¡±

    That was the first casting. Elaine felt as her body grew weightless, her legs burning with stamina. She felt as if she could sprint for miles, her newfound energy almost hurting her muscles. With the first casting out, everyone sprinted.

    Elaine continued to strum, her voice calling once more.

    ¡°Grant us cover and defend us, Protection!¡±

    Greenish bubbles of magic soon appeared around each of the group, protecting them all personally as they ran through the courtyard.

    It didn¡¯t take long for the people of the center to notice them. Arrows and spells flew, grazing and missing Elaine. Thankfully, most of them missed, with only a couple of arrows hitting her protection bubble. However, others weren¡¯t so lucky. A guard to her right was hit by a Frost Bolt, the spell piercing through the bubble and striking his arm. He yelped and stumbled, which earned him an arrow to the skull. The guard slumped and fell to the ground, his body becoming one of the many nearby.

    Elaine kept running, her legs propelling her further through the courtyard. More arrows and spells whizzed by, another hitting the thief on Dahlia¡¯s left. Still, at least he kept moving. Their run would go on for what felt like forever, with Elaine nearly dying from tripping over bodies. In the end, they would make it to the center building.

    Once the bard reached the cover of the tower¡¯s interior, she fell to the ground in exhaustion. The inside of the tower was much more barren than she realized. The room they were in was bigger than most shops in Vindis, but it had almost nothing to show for it. The only other thing here was the staircase that led up.

    The nimble feet casting was fading away, its drawback making itself present in the form of cramps. She looked back at the group, expecting to see everyone unscathed. Where she expected only one man to be a casualty, Elaine saw how only half of the group remained. Aside from the totem carriers, only Dahlia, two thieves, and three guards remained.

    ¡°Get that totem set up now!¡± The shaman exasperated as she gestured towards the empty room¡¯s center. The gnomes and dwarf moved the totem with help from the remaining guards.

    Dahlia tried to help, but she stumbled. The shaman rested against the wall, her breathing growing heavier. Elaine soon spotted the fletching that stuck out around the shaman¡¯s side. There was an arrow stuck in her side, with a bloodstain that grew by the second.

    ¡°Dahlia!¡± The bard reacted as the women before her fell to the ground. Elaine rushed to help, her hand searching through her satchel. She could have sworn she had a bandage or something.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Dahlia managed through gritted teeth. She waved off Elaine¡¯s concerns before she broke the arrow¡¯s shaft. ¡°Fuck,¡± Dahlia cursed as she held up the black and red fletching. ¡°Marauder arrow¡­ Good chance it¡¯s poisoned.¡±

    ¡°What do we do then?¡± Elaine felt herself panic. She had healing castings, but they were useless against poison.

    ¡°I have an idea,¡± Dahlia answered. She pulled out a knife from her belt, its edge glinting in the sparse light. She held it out to the bard. ¡°Dig the tip out of my body. I can¡¯t cleanse the poison if it¡¯s still there.¡±

    ¡°W-What?! I can¡¯t do that! Can¡¯t you..?¡±

    ¡°Do it! I¡¯m already going delirious. I won¡¯t be able to get it out¡­¡± Dahlia shifted to sit, her hand grabbing the end of her cloak and rolling it into a sizable bundle.

    ¡°I can handle the pain. Just dig it out,¡± the shaman ordered. Elaine carefully accepted the knife, her hands shaking as she held it over the arrow wound.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Just do it.¡±

    Elaine nodded and looked back at the wound. She took a deep breath, preparing herself.

    ¡°Freyja grant me strength¡­¡± Dahlia muttered before she bit down on the roll of fabric. With that, Elaine dug into the wound, drawing out muffled screams and groans from the shaman.

    <hr>

    ¡°Smite!¡±

    ¡°Ember Slash!¡±

    Both men¡¯s strikes sparked with luminous flames, their swords clashing a mere moment after their castings. Harald clenched his jaw as he forced his glowing sword forward. Its ethereal edge sparked as it contested against the fiery blade, causing even more friction to form between the two weapons. The veteran¡¯s new weapon resulted from Smite, which was a holy spell given by Azlene herself. ¡®Smite¡¯ formed a magical blade made of the user¡¯s life-force, its strength measured by the user¡¯s mental will.

    Harald had felt how his conjured sword was being pushed back. The unbearable heat of William¡¯s casting enough to turn both their flesh red. He looked down at the former champion¡¯s feet, spotting how the younger man¡¯s footwork was off. The veteran wasted little time, his boot quickly raising and kicking at William¡¯s shin.

    ¡°Agh! Fuck!¡±

    Success. William was knocked off balance, his sword losing all strength and momentum. Harald seized the opportunity and pushed. Using his conjured sword, the veteran struck away William¡¯s sword, sending it flying to the scorched ground.

    This was his chance. The former champion was exposed and defenseless. There would never be a better chance. Harald thrusted his sword forward, aiming to hit William¡¯s center of mass. His conjured blade only managed to pierce a shallow stab into the armored chest before it was halted. Harald blinked. William was holding onto the sword, his blood dripping down its sharp edge. He held it with all his strength, as evidenced by the way his arms shook and the sweat that dripped from his face.

    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t let you win! Not like this! It can¡¯t end like this!¡± William¡¯s plea struck Harald like a hot iron. The man¡¯s voice was that of desperation. He sounded like he was begging for mercy. The veteran could feel his past regret rear its ugly head in the back of his mind. He almost considered allowing William to live. Yet the memory of Azlene¡¯s words echoed within him.

    ¡°If you wish to renew your vows, Harald Stroud, then you must strike William Thatcher down. For he has become nothing more than the rot that infects the Lumen Kingdom. There is no saving him.¡±

    The goddess had spoken to him. She had tasked him with this mission. Harald had offered his life to her, and she had answered. Azlene could have easily allowed the veteran to die. She could have chosen a different person to represent her name. Instead, the goddess chose him. She answered his prayers and gave him a second chance. Harald had no more say in his choices. For he now belonged to the ember goddess.

    The veteran gritted his teeth. Using all his strength, he shoved the blade through William¡¯s hands. The conjured sword punctured through the former champion¡¯s breastplate, drawing more blood and causing the younger man to gasp in pain. The runes on William¡¯s armor burned out almost immediately, their magic drained by the smite spell. William sagged and fell forward, his chin resting on Harald¡¯s shoulder. The veteran grabbed him, holding him in place so as to not let him fall.

    ¡°Dammit all,¡± William coughed out. His breathing was shallow and quick. ¡°This isn¡¯t right¡­ This isn¡¯t¡­¡± Harald could hear how the younger man held back choked tears.

    ¡°I¡­ I am sorry, William.¡±

    ¡°Are you? Are you really sorry? You doomed us all. That Outlander is going to be our end¡­ He will destroy everything.¡± William grunted as he tried to stand straight.

    ¡°Save your strength.¡± Harald stopped the younger man. The veteran gently lowered him to the ground, as he had done so many times back in that dreamscape.

    ¡°For what? A peaceful death?¡± William coughed. ¡°Fuck off¡­¡± The young man gritted his teeth and forced his gaze away from the veteran. ¡°Why¡­? Why does Azlene forsake me? Why does she choose you?¡± William asked in stuttered breaths.

    Harald frowned. ¡°Even dying, you still question it. How could you have been so blind?¡± The older man gestured to the dying flames of the city. The rain¡¯s downpour had nullified most of it, but the destruction of the marauders and Lumen forces were still apparent.

    ¡°You did this. You allowed it all to happen. You took part in it.¡± Harald reprimanded.

    William turned to the veteran. ¡°Arthur told me it was for the good of Azura! He told me the draugr¡¯s reach infected this city¡­ That it was all corrupted! It needed to go!¡± The words of the former champion got on Harald¡¯s nerves. It brewed a certain type of anger inside of him.

    ¡°Did they all need to go? The women, the children, did they all deserve this?¡± the veteran asked.

    William¡¯s face dropped at the question. He broke eye contact, his shame clear in his expression. ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± He tried to form the words, but the veteran knew William had no explanation.

    ¡°You were being used,¡± Harald revealed. ¡°Arthur used you, William.¡±

    ¡°No¡­ No no!¡± William shouted out. He reached up to Harald, grabbing him by his collar. ¡°He would never! He told me everything! That Outlander, Gwenyth¡¯s betrayal, that damned abomination we saw on that island! He gave me a chance to stop it all! To bring justice!¡±

    ¡°Justice?!¡± Harald felt his rage boil. ¡°You call this justice?!¡± He slammed his fist on the ground. ¡°Look around, Thatcher! This city is in flames! Innocents are dead! Either by marauder hand or Lumen sword, they all died because of him! Arthur manipulated you! He used your heraldry to get what he wanted! You were nothing more to him than a summoning circle!¡±

    William stared at Harald, his eyes widening. The veteran could see how the younger man put the pieces together. It all clicked to him.

    ¡°What¡­ What have I done?¡± William gasped it out in a shaky breath, his hands letting go of the veteran. The former champion coughed in pain, causing blood to stain his lips and teeth. He looked to Harald, his mouth opening as if to say something. Instead, a soft breath was released and William was still. Harald stared at the dead man, his jaw clenching as his hands gripped his stiff arm.

    After some time, Harald shifted. He closed William¡¯s eyes and stood up. Rain poured upon the new herald, the blood on his armor and clothing slowly becoming washed away from the unrelenting water. He looked back at the battle that was supposed to be waging around him. Instead, he only saw the sullen faces of Lumen soldiers and guardsmen. They all stopped their fighting, their gazes now transfixed on Harald. He could see the bodies that were scattered around, their raven and phoenix emblems stained with blood.

    ¡°We are done here,¡± Harald called out. ¡°Any Lumen soldier who sides with Arthur may have one more chance to surrender. Otherwise, feel the wrath of Azlene.¡± With the last word, Harald felt his eyes flare with power. The bright orange flames of his regained magic lit up the surrounding area, its heat blazing. Half of the surviving Lumen soldiers were quick to throw their weapons. The rest simply backed away, fear in their eyes before they retreated into the city¡¯s streets.

    The guardsmen stared at Harald, their emotions ranging from amazement to pure shock. Kate herself looked to be mixed about the entire situation. Even Felix looked at the veteran with a sense of wariness about him. Harald wanted to say something to them. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but there was a sense of obligation he felt to them all. The veteran contemplated for a moment, but before he could say anything, something whizzed towards him.

    Something struck his shoulder, its tip embedding into his arm. It was an arrow, one that had come from the street nearby. Harald¡¯s first thought was that the soldiers had come back with renewed vigor and reinforcements. Instead, he was met with a band of savages bearing the red handprint.

    ¡°Marauders,¡± he growled. Harald was almost ready to order the squads to form up and get ready. Yet his voice died when he saw their expressions. They were all scared. Most of these guardsmen were still young, half of them being volunteers from the town. They were all injured to a degree, with some even missing limbs.

    Even Kate was injured, her improvised bandages doing little for the wounds on her arm and torso. Felix looked like hel, his arm trembling as he tried to nock an arrow on his bow. Harald knew then that another battle would surely put the final nail in their coffins. The veteran turned to the oncoming marauders, his grip on his sword clenching.

    ¡°All guardsmen! Retreat!¡± Harald ordered. Everyone looked at him in surprise, their weapons lowering at the order. ¡°Get to the harbor and regroup with the rest of the ravens. I shall cover your escape and hold them off,¡± Harald called out. He reached down and grabbed William¡¯s sword, which was still in good condition.

    ¡°You¡¯re staying?!¡± Kate called out. ¡°But you¡¯re injured! Gods¡¯ sake, you barely survived the fight with that herald!¡±

    ¡°I can still fight,¡± Harald responded. He looked to Felix, his hand signaling the archer to get moving.

    Felix nodded and looked to the rest of the surviving fighters. ¡°Everyone! On me! We¡¯re going now!¡±

    Everyone moved, some of them dragging away injured while others hurried to get away from the oncoming fight. The marauders seem to notice this, their focus turning from Harald to the retreating men. They hurried in to stop them.

    ¡°Summon Flame!¡± Harald¡¯s voice boomed with power. In an instant, a line of flames blocked their path. ¡°Your fight is with me!¡± Harald shouted. The raiders before him shouted in anger before they began their advance to him.

    ¡°Let go of me! I¡¯m going to fight with him!¡± Kate¡¯s voice called out in the rain, catching the veteran¡¯s attention. He turned to the young woman, who was being held back by Dirk. ¡°You can¡¯t fight them alone! Please don¡¯t do this!¡± She sounded desperate, her voice cracking as she tried to call out to Harald. ¡°I can fight!¡±

    ¡°Retreat, Rowan,¡± the veteran called back. He raised his weapon, which glowed with enchanted runes. ¡°As your teacher, I must do everything I can to protect you all. That is my responsibility.¡±

    ¡°No! I can¡¯t let you! I¡¯m not ready to give up!¡±

    Harald turned to the young woman, his lips forming into a sorrowful smile. The small action was enough to stun Kate, and her body went limp in Dirk¡¯s hold.

    ¡°No one is ever ready, Kate,¡± the veteran spoke. He watched as Kate was dragged off, right before she shouted.

    ¡°Come back! Promise you¡¯ll come back!¡± Her voice was weak, her eyes welling with what looked to be tears. Harald wanted to respond. To tell her he would survive. He would never be able to say it to her, as the marauders had already reached him.

    Harald turned and fought the wave of raiders, ready to protect everything he cared for.

    <hr>

    Thunder boomed in the night sky, drowning out the sounds of battle around the city. The following lightning flash lit up the small courtyard Lilith was in, showing the four figures left in this battle. Helen, Gustus, Lars, and her were all at a standstill, their gazes locked onto each other.

    Their battle had shifted from the alleyway and now took place in a nearby marketplace that had been abandoned. Helen was bleeding, but the blonde woman didn¡¯t seem to care about it. She instead was focused on the marauder before her. Gustus was careful with his movements, his sword and shield raised to keep Helen away.

    Lilith could feel how the rain pattered against her exposed back and torso, the only thing covering her being the wrap of cloth that covered her chest. She had ditched the chainmail and baggy gambeson earlier in favor of mobility. They would not be useful when it came to blocking Lar¡¯s monstrous attacks.

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    Lilith looked at her own opponent, Lars. The crazed man was rid of his shirt as well, leaving his entire torso exposed. Still, the young woman was hesitant to make a move. She had seen what his strength was capable of. The dead gnome back in the alleyway was the result from a simple swing, one that did not require any castings. Lars was a terrifying threat. At least the orcs were stupid. They were careless when it came to defense. The berserker before Lilith had what they lacked. Speed and battle sense. Not even the agility potion she drank earlier was enough to close the significant gap between the two.

    Lilith would have to think of a strategy, one that could give her the winning blow. That was growing to be a problem, however, as Lars rarely gave her enough time to think.

    ¡°Fight!¡± he shouted as he rushed forward. His warhammer swung at Lilith, who barely managed to dodge. She quickly backed off, avoiding getting her head caved in. As the hammer flew by, the young woman rushed ahead with her axes. Lilith swung both of them at the oaf¡¯s head, trying to score a hit.

    Lars quickly reacted, jerking his head away from the sharp edges of the axes. He grinned in joy, his hands shifting the warhammer¡¯s staff. In a quick motion, he hit Lilith¡¯s gut with its blunt end. Lilith couldn¡¯t help but gasp and cough, her hands nearly letting go of their weapons. She landed on the ground with a thud, her breathing ragged as she tried to regain her composure.

    ¡®To your right!¡¯ Her inner voice shouted. Lars¡¯ warhammer was already inbound, its bloody end flying towards her head.

    Lilith did the one thing she could do. She blocked with her right arm, hoping to nullify the impact. Pain flared up almost instantly, her bones audibly breaking as the hammer made contact. Lilith flew away from the strike, her mind concussed and her arm mangled. She gritted her teeth and fought through the pain, despite the tears welling up in her eyes. She needed to fight to keep Lars from reaching Dahlia. This was her job, her goal.

    ¡°Still alive, eh?¡± Lars chuckled. He dragged his warhammer along the inch high water as he walked to the injured woman, almost as if he was savoring the moment.

    ¡°Lilith!¡± Helen shouted from afar. She tried to come in to assist, but Gustus was already upon her, his sword slashing at her. Lilith was on her own.

    ¡®Get up! Get up!¡¯ Lilith¡¯s inner voice mentally yelled as she picked herself up, her arm sending even more pain.

    ¡°Good! Good! Get up! Make this interesting!¡± Lars shouted.

    Lilith ignored him, her focus only on her left arm. It shook as it held her only ax. She tried to focus on the fight, to dismiss the pain. Death was not an option. Lilith yelled as she lunged at Lars, her ax swinging towards his head. She saw how he hastened to defend, which she was counting on. Lilith had already dropped to the floor, her initial attack a mere feint. Her ax struck at Lars¡¯ thigh, causing the man to yell in pain. She ripped it out quickly, avoiding another deadly strike. As she dodge the hammer, her body faltered a bit from pain. Her right arm was dangling, its broken state sending even more agony.

    She continued to press on; her left arm swinging once again. This time, the ax head hit Lars¡¯ back, causing the berserker to shout in anger.

    ¡°You little¨C!¡±

    Lilith did not stop. She pulled back, dodging yet another strike. She quickly feigned another attack and avoided the end of his hammer¡¯s staff. Lilith struck again, hitting his arm. She would repeat this dance, dodging and avoiding attacks whilst striking at his most exposed parts. It was all shallow cuts, so no actual damage was being made, but Lilith knew she would eventually hit a vital vein. It was a slow game of chance, with every move dangerous and risky. She would have to react quickly to win this and be even luckier to guess Lars¡¯ next attack.

    ¡°Lars!¡±

    This strategy, however, had one fatal flaw. It required Lilith and Lars to be completely isolated, with no other factors thrown in. That would change, however, as Gustus threw something to the berserker. Helen tried to intervene, but her injuries made her too slow to stop it. The marauder had thrown a bag to Lars, who caught it quickly. Lilith¡¯s eyes widened when she saw him pull out a silver vial with a blue ribbon tied to it. She forgot its name, but she could never forget the effects it had on her when she first drank it.

    Lilith moved to stop the man from drinking it, her ax swinging at the vial. Her reckless action was enough for Lars to exploit, his hammer¡¯s blunt end raising and colliding with her stomach. Lilith stumbled back in pain, watching as the marauder drank the potion. In a last ditch effort, she raised her ax, aiming to hit a deadly strike. She threw the weapon, watching as it spun in the air. It ultimately missed Lar¡¯s head, but it did strike one part of him. The ax¡¯s edge had struck his right hand, the same one that held the bag and potion. It pierced his fingers, lopping them off as it tore through the small bag and vial they held.

    Vials and other items, including a red spotted mushroom, fell to the ground, along with the bloody fingers of Lars. Lilith went for her ax, which had landed next to the items. Before her fingers could even graze with the weapon¡¯s handle, Lars¡¯ boot struck her gut. She rolled away from the strike, her body aching with pain. Lilith pushed through, her left hand propping herself to stand. Her tumble on the ground undid her tied up locks, her drenched hair now obscuring her vision. It was only when she stood did she see the incoming hammer.

    Lilith raised her left hand, blocking the attack. More agonizing pain, accompanied by another kick that sent her to the ground. Lilith laid there in the inch high water, her breathing growing slower. She could only watch as Lars limped his way to her, his left hand hefting his hammer. He grinned at her.

    ¡°I¡¯ll acknowledge your extraordinary strength and perseverance. However, this was your last fight.¡±

    Lilith could only watch as Lars brought his boot back, before he kicked in her face.

    The next thing she saw was darkness.

    <hr>

    Heat.

    That was all Seamus could feel as Eli¡¯s purple flames missed him. The young man kept moving, his hands gripping onto the sword¡¯s handle. Haggard was by his side, the drifter¡¯s hammer already preparing for a strike. Eli raised his hands once again, summoning the black mist around him.

    ¡°Thunder Lance!¡± Falrick¡¯s voice echoed out. The Wizard¡¯s spell flew from the side, striking against the black mist barrier the marauder had created. The lance of lightning blew apart the bubble of darkness, leaving a gaping hole in the mist. Seamus and Haggard quickly passed through, their weapons swinging at Eli.

    The spellcaster¡¯s cursed eyes widened at the two, his star-shaped pupils visibly shrinking. Runes appeared in his irises, basking everything in a purple glow as he cast a quick spell. Seamus felt his body instinctively jerk to the side, his head narrowly avoiding an ice lance that had cast from the marauder¡¯s bloodshot eyes. Haggard, however, wasn¡¯t so lucky. The drifter took two lances to the torso, his body stumbling back from the recoil.

    ¡°Haggard!¡± Seamus stopped his dance, instead opting to tackle the drifter to the ground.

    The young man felt an unbearable cold brush against his body as more lances missed him and Haggard. He tried to drag off the drifter to get to safety.

    ¡°Barrier!¡± Falrick shouted again. Seamus heard the hum of magic as a blue barrier materialized behind him. It blocked off two more projectiles, protecting him and Haggard. ¡°Run Seamus!¡± Falrick shouted. The Wizard sounded weak, his casting lacking the power it had before. It was clear that the elderly man was at his limit.

    With that in mind, Seamus ran off with Haggard, his body exerting itself as he dragged the heavy man.

    ¡°Leave me¡­¡± Haggard managed out. He was barely breathing, his legs half dragging on the ground.

    ¡°I¡¯m not leaving you to die!¡± Seamus answered through gritted teeth. He pushed on, trying to get Haggard to the chamber¡¯s outskirts. He just needed time. Before he could get to safety, however, Seamus felt his legs give out. He tried to pick himself up, but his arms felt like they were stuck in mud.

    His entire body burned and his lungs felt like they were squeezed. Seamus grasped at his chest, his breathing growing heavier. Before he could figure it out, he heard the barrier behind him shatter. His heart dropped at the sound.

    ¡°Looks like it¡¯s finally taking effect on you,¡± Eli laughed behind him.

    ¡°What? What are you talking about?¡± Seamus breathed out. He looked at the marauder, who was casually strolling towards him.

    ¡°The poison meant for that old Wizard,¡± Eli revealed.

    ¡°Poison?!¡± Seamus felt his blood run cold. ¡°How? When?!¡± The young man tried to think back to when the spellcaster could have poisoned him. His body went stiff when he recalled the small spear that had pierced him earlier. Eli seemed to notice his reaction, as the marauder laughed even more.

    ¡°Yes. That spear. It was meant for the old man over there, but you had to rush towards me.¡± The spellcaster sighed before he turned to Falrick, who was desperately trying to stand up straight. ¡°Then again, it probably would¡¯ve been a waste.¡±

    Seamus opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when a metallic taste filled his mouth. He coughed into his arm, his lungs feeling as if glass had punctured it. Seamus pulled his arm back and went still. He stared at the blood staining his clothes, fear gripping at his chest.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a few minutes before blood fills your lungs,¡± Eli explained. ¡°After that, it is only a matter of time,¡± Seamus could only stare as the marauder raised his hands.

    ¡°Killing you is a mercy.¡±

    As the black mist converged into spears, Seamus forced himself to move.

    ¡®You have to keep fighting! You need to live, dammit! Everyone is counting on us!¡¯

    He slowly got up, his hands setting Haggard on the ground. The young man raised his sword, his knees shaking as they attempted to stand straight.

    Eli laughed. ¡°Dying on your feet? You¡¯re already more of a man than your father!¡±

    ¡°Fuck! YOU!¡± Seamus screamed with rage.

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit!¡± The marauder grinned as he swiped his hand, his many spears flying forward.

    Seamus braced himself, expecting to meet every spearhead in front of him. Instead, he was met with the feeling of blistering heat.

    ¡°Burn!¡± Red flames scorched the ground before him, cutting off the spears and sending an enormous amount of heat everywhere. Seamus stumbled back, dumbfounded at the sudden spell. Once the flames simmered down, he could see Eli¡¯s outline. The marauder was singed, half of his robes burnt and his right arm covered in burns. He looked furious, his cursed eyes staring at the source of the spell.

    ¡°It¡¯s you.¡± Eli¡¯s voice dripped with malice and anger.

    Seamus turned and saw something impossible. Nathan stood there, his robes tattered and the right side of his face covered in blood and burns. He was grinning maniacally, his right arm holding his crooked wooden staff. The red spell crystal on its tip glowed brightly, illuminating half the chamber with its sinister light.

    ¡°How are you alive?!¡± Eli shouted.

    Nathan chuckled, his free hand brushing his black hair back. ¡°Did you really think your fire would be enough to kill me?¡± the Wizard called out. ¡°Pyromancy was the first school of magic I mastered, you fool!¡± Nathan quickly pointed his staff at Eli, his voice gaining power.

    ¡°Inferno!¡±

    A tornado of flames surrounded Eli, sending even more heat throughout the room. As Seamus looked on in shock, his thoughts screamed a warning at him.

    ¡®Get to safety now! He¡¯s buying you time!¡¯

    Seamus quickly grabbed Haggard¡¯s shoulders. He used every bit of strength he had left to drag the drifter, his muscles and lungs growing weaker as he pulled. Once the young man got Haggard to a safe distance, Falrick arrived.

    ¡°Are you alright? Seamus!¡± The Wizard wobbled as he reached Seamus.

    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t move or breathe¡­¡± the young man managed out. Falrick quickly dug into his pockets, his hands throwing vials and stones onto the ground. Finally, he found what he was looking for. The old Wizard pulled out a glass vial, one that had a couple of cracks in it. Seamus watched as Falrick uncorked and took out a small white berry.

    ¡°Frostberry. It should slow the poison until we get you cured.¡± The Wizard handed the fruit to Seamus, who quickly took it. It was hard to chew at first, with the berry¡¯s unnaturally cold state and his constant urge to cough. Still, he managed to eat it all. In almost an instant, Seamus felt his body instantly cool down, his body regaining some of its strength.

    Still, he was far from cured. His lungs continued to feel like shit and his limbs still weighed like pudding.

    ¡°Can you still fight?¡± Seamus asked.

    Falrick nodded. ¡°I might be running low on reserves, but I can still keep moving¡­¡± The Wizard looked at the inferno spell Nathan had cast. It was slowly dissipating, revealing the ball of black mist Eli used to defend himself.

    ¡°That bastard is still on the defense. He¡¯s toying with us,¡± Falrick muttered.

    Seamus grunted as he shifted his gaze. ¡°I¡­ I think he¡¯s at his limit.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± The old Wizard turned to Seamus with a puzzled look.

    ¡°The spells are cast from his eyes. I saw it up close,¡± Seamus coughed, ¡°They were bloodshot when he casted those ice lances¡­ He¡¯s at his limit.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Falrick asked.

    ¡°Judging from how haphazardly he was casting spells in the beginning, compared to how reserved he is now¡­ He¡¯s not used to long fights,¡± Seamus explained.

    ¡°I see¡­¡± The Wizard nodded. As the elderly man pondered on a plan, Nathan¡¯s inferno ran out. Seamus could see how Nathan rushed ahead, his staff forming a rune at its tip. Eli stared at the young Wizard, his eyes glowing brightly.

    In just a second, the rune on Nathan¡¯s staff dispelled, canceling out any plans the Wizard had. Or at least that was what Seamus thought. Nathan quickly revealed his free hand, which was already forming a set of runes.

    ¡°Mist Clone: One Man Army!¡±

    There was a huge puff of mist and fog from Nathan, followed by a multitude of mist figures. However, instead of their gray and wispy visages, they looked exactly like Nathan. Down to the color of his robes and the blood on his face. Seamus stared at the sight, confused. He then recalled what Nathan had said months back when he first saw them.

    ¡°In a fogcloud or mist domain spell, these clones will look exactly like me in color and detail.¡±

    ¡®That¡¯s why he cast the fogcloud spell earlier. He was preparing to use the clones before Eli stopped him.¡¯

    Seamus could only watch in amazement as the many Nathan clones carelessly rushed toward the spellcaster. Spears came and stabbed at them, reducing clones back to mist. Still, it wouldn¡¯t stop others from rushing forward, trying to reach the marauder.

    Seamus tried to get up and assist, but his legs were wobbling too much. He ended up falling back on the ground, his body shivering and shuddering.

    ¡°Stay here,¡± Falrick ordered. ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous for you to keep fighting.¡±

    ¡°Falrick I can¨C¡±

    ¡°Silence,¡± the old Wizard muttered. ¡°Nathan and I shall take care of this cursed caster once and for all. You stay here and watch Haggard.¡±

    Falrick stepped forward, his finger flexing as he went off to help Nathan.

    ¡°I won¡¯t fail a second time. Stay alive, Seamus.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Through the rock and stone we push, flesh and blood we give, these mountains will know our strength.¡±

    Bjorn recalled a song from his homeland. The dwarf had little to no memory of the place, his only recollection being the songs he heard from his little hovel in the mountains. The song he was recalling was one his father had sung to him when he was but a child.

    ¡°No god will govern our fate and no man will take our freedom. Through flesh and blood we sacrifice, rock and stone we strike. These mountains are our home.¡±

    It was a mining song, one that the dwarves back home had hollered whenever they dug deeper into Azura¡¯s crust. Bjorn hung onto the faint memory of those mountains as he defended the bridge.

    The dwarf could feel his strength slipping. Yet he kept pushing. His shield still held on strongly, despite being malformed beyond recognition. His ax was getting duller with every strike, every swing threatening to take his arm off. His body was growing tiresome. Even with the vitality potion he had just drank, his overall stamina was shit.

    Despite it all, the dwarf was having the time of his life.

    ¡°Come on! Give me all you got!¡± He shouted to the last remaining marauders. They were struggling to get past him, to get through the bridge he was on. Bjorn wouldn¡¯t let them, his ax swinging at whoever got too close. The bodies of previous marauders were stacked all around him, forming a makeshift wall of corpses on the bridge. It made it all the harder for these marauding bastards to get through.

    One marauder rushed forward with a spear, aiming at Bjorn¡¯s helmet visor. The dwarf used his shield, barely deflecting the attack. Still, the spearhead pierced his left shoulder, missing the steel plate completely. Bjorn gritted his teeth in pain, his anger flaring. Using his remaining strength, he swung his ax on the wooden spear shaft, cutting it in two. The marauder stumbled forward as a result, leaving himself open.

    Bjorn wasted no time, his muscles screaming as he swung at the bastard in front of him. His ax buried itself into the marauder¡¯s leg, bringing him down to the dwarf¡¯s level. Bjorn quickly pulled back as soon as he did this, avoiding the other marauder¡¯s strike. For a moment, he had neglected the others and nearly left himself open.

    The rest of the marauders struck down on the dwarf, attempting to cut through his armor and shield with their shoddy swords and spears. Bjorn did his best to dodge and block the attacks, using his ax and restricted left arm to fend them off. He could feel cold sharp steel enter his body and graze his vitals, every attack threatening to bleed him out.

    He wouldn¡¯t die. Not here.

    ¡°Through the rock and stone we push, flesh and blood we give, these mountains will know our strength!¡± Bjorn sang as he swung his ax. The bewildered marauders stepped back at the sudden burst of strength from the dwarf, avoiding his wild strikes.

    ¡°No god will govern our fate and no man will take our freedom!¡± Bjorn grinned as he managed to hit one of their legs. He pulled at the ax, tripping the marauder over. The other raiders moved in to intervene, but Bjorn was quicker. The dwarf jumped on the fallen marauder, using him as a stepping stool.

    ¡°Through flesh and blood we sacrifice, rock and stone we strike, these mountains are our home!¡± Bjorn shouted as he buried his ax into the unarmored head of one marauder. This left him open to the other raider, prompting the bastard to stab through the dwarf¡¯s left side. Bjorn winced but did not hesitate. He grabbed the sword that had impaled him, holding the weapon in place as he pulled his ax from the dead man.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± Bjorn shouted. His body flared with magical heat, his arm burning with exertion as it swung the ax into the marauder¡¯s jaw. There was a loud wet crack and Bjorn was met with the sight of a marauder with his jaw half gone, an ax stuck in his skull. The dying man only took a step back before he fell onto the platform.

    The dwarf fell to the ground with the corpse, his legs giving out almost immediately. The marauder he had used for a stepping stool was still alive, his hands reaching for a weapon. Bjorn quickly intervened, his hand grabbing a nearby dagger. He sluggishly tackled the marauder, forcing him to the ground. Using his weight, the dwarf forced the dagger into the man¡¯s throat, killing him off finally.

    That was the last marauder at the bridge. That Power Strike he did earlier was out of pure desperation, as he had no more remaining strength inside him. As for the marauder underneath him, he was lucky he got a weapon quick. As battle-happy as the dwarf was, he was thankful it was over. He had no more remaining strength in him, all of it going to defending his position and making sure no marauder made it past him.

    Bjorn looked all around him. Bodies littered the bridge and platform ahead, but none ever made it past the bridge. The dwarf couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. He had kept his promise to Dahlia.

    ¡°What do we have here?¡±

    Bjorn felt his heart drop at the sound of a sinister voice. He forced himself to look up at the direction of the voice. While he couldn¡¯t see clearly, he could still make out the silhouette of an armored man. He was tall, well over two meters. He wore heavy steel armor and his helmet sported two horns. Bjorn focused on the red handprint on the man¡¯s chest. It was a marauder, one who wasn¡¯t like the rabble the dwarf had taken care of. Bjorn looked at the marauder¡¯s helmet, looking past the man¡¯s Y visor.

    This was a man he had never seen before, yet he had heard enough stories to know exactly who he was looking at.

    Deimos of the North was smiling, despite the wounds and visible dents in his armor. He dragged along a bloody ax and longsword, both of which were covered in nicks and scratches. It was clear that the Red Death had his fair share of scuffles getting here.

    Bjorn forced himself to stand, his shaking right hand grabbing at a dagger. His left arm was useless, the spear from before restricting his movement.

    ¡°Impressive work,¡± Deimos called out as he stepped forth.

    ¡°They were nothing,¡± Bjorn breathed out.

    ¡°I see,¡± Deimos muttered. The Red Death rubbed at his chin, his eyes surveying the damage. ¡°I commend your strength, dwarf. For that, I¡¯ll give you a luxury I do not easily grant my enemies. I¡¯ll let you live if you allow me to pass,¡± he bargained.

    Bjorn grinned and chuckled. ¡°Nah,¡± he coughed.

    Deimos tilted his head in confusion, a small frown appearing on his face. A moment of silence passed, the only sound being the pattering rain and distant sound of thunder and fighting.

    ¡°Your way it is then,¡± Deimos muttered finally, his frown turning into a soft smile.

    Bjorn raised his dagger, readying for the upcoming attack. He could only watch as Deimos rushed forward, faster than the dwarf could react. Before Bjorn knew it, the marauder¡¯s steel boot had crushed his chest in. He flew back onto the bridge, his ribs on fire as his lungs filled with viscous blood.

    Bjorn coughed as he tried to stand up, every breath he took causing fiery pain in his chest. The pressure was overwhelming, threatening to suffocate the dwarf.

    ¡°Still alive?¡± Deimos asked as he walked up the bridge.

    ¡°As long as my heart beats, I will not allow you to pass!¡± Bjorn managed out. He stood up finally, his dagger brandished in front of him. ¡°Do your fucken wor¡ª¡±

    Another kick, this time to his stomach. Bjorn felt his body rise, gaining airtime before he landed back on the bridge. He tried to speak, but only vomited. Dark crimson and bits of food stained the wooden bridge, the rainwater slowly washing it away.

    ¡°Give up,¡± Deimos called out. ¡°This is pathetic.¡±

    Bjorn clenched his jaw as he forced himself to look up at the marauder.

    ¡®You can¡¯t allow yourself to give up. Not here. You have to hold out. This is the Red Death himself. If he gets to that center¡­¡¯

    Every second counted. Even if it was for a few moments, Bjorn needed to hold Deimos off. He needed to buy as much time as possible.

    The dwarf stood up, his body shuddering with pain. Yet he was grinning. He gave the marauder one last boisterous laugh.

    ¡°I am Bjorn Farkas! Sword of the raven and son of the mountains! You shall not¡ª¡±

    Bjorn¡¯s vision went white. The dwarf felt his body tumble and roll on the ground for a few meters. Deimos had kicked his head, the strike enough to immobilize the dwarf and concuss him.

    The dwarf couldn¡¯t move nor speak as he stared at the rainy sky. He could only watch as Deimos approached him. The marauder stopped short of Bjorn, his bored gaze watching upon the injured dwarf.

    ¡°A shame I couldn¡¯t be here earlier. Would¡¯ve been an interesting fight,¡± Deimos sighed. Without another word, he left the dwarf there. Bjorn tried to move, to do anything. Yet his body was shutting down. He couldn¡¯t even breathe as blood filled his lungs.

    Bjorn forced himself to smile as the pain of dying grew overwhelming. He did not wish to go out without a grin. That was something that was stuck to him for these past decades. The dwarves back home wouldn¡¯t face death without a smile, so why shouldn¡¯t Bjorn? He did not want his friends to think he suffered in his last moments.

    ¡®Damn shame I couldn¡¯t stick around to see James kill that bastard. End of the line, I suppose¡­¡¯

    The dwarf felt as his body slowly succumbed to the cold and numbness, shutting down as the last vestiges of his life left him. He hummed, despite the pain, recalling the songs of his people back home as the unending dark came for him.

    Bjorn Farkas, Son of the Mountains, accepted his death with a grin on his lips.

 B.3 Chapter 49: Last Stand

    Rain poured heavily in the alleyway. Daven Larsson hurried through with fear in his heart. His legs shook and his teeth were chattering. The sounds of battle were everywhere, with both Lumen soldier and marauder raider fighting and dying to each other. Rarely did the emissary find any allies. His clansmen had left him and most of the city guard was killed off. Daven was alone, cowering in the shadows being his only way of survival. Still, his hiding spots never did last long.

    The serpent clansman could hear the shouts of the raiders, their laughs chilling to him. They were hunting him, possibly hoping to score an easy kill. The gold district was cursed in the way that there was little to no cover in alleys and streets. Daven hoped to reach the silver district, or at least the slums.

    ¡®If only I could see in this damned darkness!¡¯

    The rain wasn¡¯t helping either, since the constant downpour made it harder to see and even more dangerous to run through.

    He kept running still, hoping to at least reach some sort of hiding spot or allies. Even some Lumen soldiers would be enough to ease him. Daven would soon leave the alleyway, his feet hurrying to keep him running through the street. However, he would make one fatal mistake. He was not careful enough to keep himself from slipping. The serpent clansman fell onto the street, splashing water everywhere. Daven tried to stand, but his shaking legs and arms made it impossible.

    ¡°There he is! Quite the runner, eh?¡± one marauder called out. Daven turned to the savage who had already had his ax out. The emissary quickly fiddled with his belt, trying to unsheathe his sword. The lead marauder watched with clear amusement, his grin growing. Once Daven finally got his sword out, the marauder simply kicked it out of his hands.

    ¡°I¡¯ll admit. Fighters usually get my blood going,¡± the raider spoke as he stepped closer. ¡°But the weaklings? Oh, they¡¯re so much more fun to play with.¡± He laughed.

    ¡°Please¡­ I can give you gold! Riches! Beer! Anything please!¡± Daven pleaded.

    The marauder simply shook his head. ¡°Nah. I¡¯d rather have you.¡± His voice dripped with malice. Daven could only watch as the savage raised his ax. Right when he swung, the clansman closed his eyes. He flinched at the feeling of his own blood spraying onto his face, its warmth sickening him. Yet there was no pain. Daven furrowed his brow, his eyes slowly opening.

    The marauder¡¯s throat was faceting dark matter. His eyes widened and his hands reaching for the arrow in his neck. Daven stared in horror, his body seizing up at the sight.

    ¡°It¡¯s him!¡± One of the other marauders called. They all turned to focus on the new threat, their shields and weapons rising.

    ¡°Night Spray!¡± Before they could prepare to attack or defend, a flurry of purple fireflies flew at them. The stench of flesh burning accompanied the sounds of screaming.

    Suddenly, a man dressed in steel and fur came at them, his boot kicking one of their shields down. The man raised his sword, its edge glowing red.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± His blade struck the bigger marauder¡¯s torso, slicing through gambeson and gutting the belly underneath. The armored man turned and dodged a wild strike, his reflexes near perfect. Daven watched with morbid fascination as his savior gutted and killed every marauder. Every time one tried to sneak on him, they were struck with either a spell or arrow from afar.

    Now that Daven looked on, he realized that there were more marauders than he initially realized. They were all occupied with hulking figures in the distance, which the clansman realized were orcs. Daven witnessed as orc and specters gathered up, striking down every marauder in the way. By the time every raider was dead, Daven was looking eye to eye with the man who saved him.

    The stranger wore steel plate armor mixed with gambeson, his collar and shoulders lined with black fur. A white raven was painted upon his chest. At least, it was once white. Still, Daven couldn¡¯t help but stare at the man¡¯s face. While most of it was covered by the steel helm, Daven recognized him.

    It was the Draugr himself, James Holter. His eyes glowed a bright blue, to the point where it looked like they flickered and flared like flames. James stared at Daven for a moment before he turned to the street. Daven watched as the draugr walked up the street, which led off even deeper into the city.

    ¡°Wait! You¡¯re going to the center of the city!¡± Daven shouted. ¡°There are even more marauders and Lumen soldiers there!¡± He had heard stories of the Draugr¡¯s feats, but he knew better than to believe that this man and his small clan could even stand a chance against so many. Yet James kept walking, ignoring Daven¡¯s warning. Orcs and soldiers with ravens on their chests passed by Daven, their weapons slick with blood. Even a necromancer joined them, his hands beckoning specters to follow.

    Daven only watched on in disbelief. How could Holter fight like this? When everything was so desperately lost? He didn¡¯t even have a stake in this city. Daven gritted his teeth. The warrior in him told him to join, to fight with the Draugr. Vindis was his city. His home. Yet the man couldn¡¯t force himself to budge. He could only retreat into the shadows, cowering from the threat of death.

    <hr>

    Harald grunted as he felt another marauder stab at his torso, the bastard¡¯s sword striking steel. The veteran turned to the raider and quickly dispatched him, his own sword gutting the man¡¯s belly in an instant. Right when he did so, another two marauders rushed and attacked him. While they only struck steel and gambeson, Harald couldn¡¯t afford to give them a chance to get that fatal stab.

    ¡°Flame Burst!¡± He shouted, his words of power reverberating throughout his body. In an instant, a spiral of flames burst forth. The marauders around were burnt to a crisp, their screams and shrieks filling the night sky.

    Harald continued forward, his sword raising and striking down the ones who were still alive. Despite his casting however, more marauders moved in to fight. The veteran clenched his jaw, his body burning once more with rage. He had only three castings left. He needed to make the next one count.

    ¡®Give me strength, goddess!¡¯

    Harald prayed as he decapitated another of the bastards. More came at him, surrounding the veteran. Swords and axes struck at his armor and helmet, some of them even piercing flesh and cutting through his gambeson. Harald felt his rage boil over, his muscles screaming as he cast one last spell. This one ought to do it.

    ¡°Azlene¡¯s Wrath: Embers of Hel!¡± Harald¡¯s body was pushed to the limit as the flames that emitted from his sword and body turned into a bright blue. The heat was so much that it even evaporated the rain around the veteran. It was more than effective. Harald struck forward with his casting, his blue flames scorching and cutting through marauders like nothing. He swung three times, every swing killing and burning men around him. At the end, Harald was the only one standing.

    Corpses laid around him, flickering and emitting smoke. The stench of burnt flesh permeated the air, disgusting Harald. Yet, he was used to it. Harald took in breaths of the rainy air, trying to cool himself down. The rain helped a little, but it was better than nothing.

    ¡®The harbor¡­ need to get to the harbor and¨C¡¯

    ¡°I see you¡¯ve saved me the trouble of fighting those savages off,¡± a voice called out.

    Harald turned to the sudden voice. While he couldn¡¯t see clearly, he could still make out the silhouette of an armored man. He was around his own height, the top half of his face obscured by a Lumen-made helm. Judging from his gray beard, Harald could tell this man was around his own age. His armor was a mix of plate and gambeson, enchantment runes peppering the edges of the steel. Everything about him screamed Lumen, yet Harald could see no wax seal. He did, however, spot the faded symbol of Delphine on his chest.

    ¡°An apostle,¡± Harald recognized aloud. Something still didn¡¯t feel right. There was an unsettling aura around this man. Despite the armor and symbols, he looked out of place. Like he didn¡¯t belong.

    ¡°You must be Harald Stroud,¡± the apostle called out. ¡°William¡¯s predecessor.¡± He looked over at the dead body of the former herald. ¡°Unsurprisingly, you turned out to betray your own.¡±

    ¡°Who the hel are you?¡± Harald asked. He resisted the urge to cough his lungs out.

    ¡°I guess it doesn¡¯t matter whether I tell you who I am,¡± the stranger muttered. He took a couple of steps towards Harald, his bloodied longsword dragging along the flooding platform. The apostle used his free hand to raise the visor on his helm, revealing his tired and cold dark eyes and graying beard. ¡°I am Arthur Clarke, apostle to Delphine.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re an Earthling,¡± Harald realized. This man before him had the same uncomfortable aura about him, the same as James. It was unmistakable. Harald¡¯s comment was enough to make Arthur narrow his gaze. The apostle closed his visor and took a step forward.

    ¡°I see. So you¡¯re with him.¡± His voice was instantly hostile, his aggressive stance showing the veteran that there was no reasoning with him.

    Harald silently cursed to himself as he took a step back, his thoughts trying to find a way out of this. The veteran was at his rope¡¯s end. He had only two castings left, and his body was overheating. Another heat spell would most certainly cook him from the inside. Trying to run away was folly. Harald could barely walk, let alone run. This left him with only one option.

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing¡­ I don¡¯t have another choice than to fight?¡± Harald asked.

    ¡°You killed my way out. What do you think?¡± Arthur asked as he raised his longsword.

    The veteran couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°I¡¯m not going down easy,¡± he spat.

    ¡°Let¡¯s put that to the test.¡± Without another word, the apostle rushed ahead with a wide swing. Harald hefted his own blade, his throat going hoarse as he cast a spell.

    ¡°Holy Light!¡±

    A bright flash emitted from the veteran¡¯s free hand. The casting was good as both a disorienting distraction and a healing spell. Harald could feel his body grow cool and his muscles regain some strength. Right now, he should have had the upper hand. However, Harald soon learned what he was up against.

    Instead of stopping or covering his eyes, Arthur had kept advancing towards the veteran. Harald could see through the visor that his eyes were simply closed. Harald barely blocked the wide swing, his sword¡¯s runes brightening as they fended off the longsword.

    Arthur pulled back quickly, his hand grabbing at his sword¡¯s length. He thrusted it forth like a battering ram towards Harald. The veteran dodged it, his sword lunging towards the apostle.

    Arthur shifted and used his arm to shove the attack away, his steel brace deflecting it. The enchanted runes on both the bracer and sword burned brightly from the strike, sending a magical feedback that pushed both fighters back. Harald wasted no time in recovering, his sword pointing towards Arthur once more. He lunged forward, aiming to pierce the bastard in the chest.

    ¡°Ember Strike!¡±

    He put in all his strength into this casting, its flames turning into a bright blue as they headed towards a stunned Arthur.

    It would all be for naught, however. Harald had exerted himself past his limit. The veteran staggered from the heat, his vision blacking out for a second. A second that would prove lethal.

    Arthur exploited Harald, using this moment of weakness to his advantage. The ember strike only scraped the apostle¡¯s side, its flames cutting through steel but hitting nothing but air. Harald tried to redirect, to salvage his situation. However, he had already lost.

    Steel pierced flesh and blood stained the veteran¡¯s armor. Harald couldn¡¯t do anything as Arthur drove his longsword into the veteran¡¯s abdomen. Harald coughed blood, the copper taste overwhelming to the old man. He tried to say something but could only cough even more.

    Harald dropped his sword, his body already going limp against Arthur¡¯s blade. The apostle placed his gauntlet on the veteran¡¯s shoulder, gripping it tightly. Arthur unceremoniously ripped the blade out of the other man¡¯s body before dropping Harald onto the flooded ground.

    ¡°You fought well for a retired herald,¡± Arthur muttered. ¡°In another life, you would¡¯ve served your goddess proud.¡±

    ¡°Go¡­ fuck yourself,¡± Harald coughed in response, his teeth clenching together as he fought through the pain. Arthur stepped onto the veteran¡¯s chest, preventing him from getting up. He raised his longsword, positioning the tip above Harald¡¯s forehead.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you a proper end. Do you have any last words?¡±

    Harald stared at the apostle above him. He wanted to tell the bastard to go to hel. To insult and berate him. Yet he couldn¡¯t. There was no point. Insulting the Outlander would be a waste of breath. Harald could feel how blood flowed from his wound, his body¡¯s warmth slowly dissipating. The cold embrace of death was creeping up.

    Harald couldn¡¯t help but laugh at the pain. Every guffaw from his lips drew more blood from his lungs, causing even more excruciating pain. Yet the veteran chuckled, his gaze focusing on the clouded sky. The blood moons partially shone through, reflecting their reddish glow on him.

    ¡°It was bound to happen,¡± he muttered, his mind going back to Astera and William. To Dahlia and James. To his students and friends. He knew it would end at some point. Harald turned to look Arthur in the eye, his lungs forcing out the last few breaths he would have.

    ¡°When the time comes, when James finally kills you, I¡¯ll be waiting for you in Helheim.¡±

    Arthur faltered at the veteran¡¯s words. He stared down at the veteran, a small uncharacteristic smile appearing on his lips. The apostle then gave him a short, forced chuckle.

    ¡°What a waste of breath.¡±

    With that, the apostle from another world forced the longsword into Harald Stroud¡¯s skull, engulfing the veteran¡¯s world in darkness.

    <hr>

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Arthur took a breath of relief as he sheathed his sword. He was lucky to catch the former herald off guard. If he was in any better shape, there was no telling how long this fight would¡¯ve lasted. There was no doubt in his mind that this man was much more skilled and dangerous than William. It was clear to Arthur why that man had lost his own heraldry and life to this aged veteran.

    The apostle turned his gaze towards the center, where the battle was culminating. He had focused on getting to the iron district in a desperate attempt to save William and secure a safe way out of this cursed city once everything was settled. That exit plan was now dead in the dirt. Arthur would have to instead rely on a longship to get out of here. That is, if Eilif hasn¡¯t left with it yet. The Outlander doubted it. That bounty hunter wasn¡¯t a coward when it came to battles such as this.

    The same went for James Holter and Deimos. They were surely making their way through the city, ready to fight each other and come out victorious. All Arthur had to do was to pick them off during the heat of it all, to strike them down before they reacted. Even if he was far, he still had time, time to go to the center and finish it all. The rest of his Lumen Knights should be waiting for him near the valdora district, ready to follow him into the battle.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get this done,¡± he muttered before he formed multiple runes through his hands. ¡°Shadow Step. Nimble Feet.¡±

    Arthur Clarke made his way to the center, cutting through alleys and shortcuts. This night was about to be over.

    <hr>

    Helen couldn¡¯t help but feel cornered. The marauder Gustus shouldn¡¯t have been a problem, yet the veteran struggled to finish her fight. It was her damn left arm, which sent waves of pain whenever she moved it. That berserker Lars was to blame for it. Despite her shield, Lars¡¯ warhammer had done some serious damage. There was a good chance that it was broken.

    Another sword strike swung towards her. Helen dodged it and thrusted her spear at Gustus, who blocked it with his shield. The veteran stepped back; her focus quickly shifting to Lars. The berserker was busy wrapping up his mangled hand, his warhammer on the ground next to Lilith. Helen had to finish her fight with Gustus quickly. Even if Lilith was disposed of, it didn¡¯t mean Lars wouldn¡¯t try to finish her off.

    Helen turned to Gustus, who was attempting to form up a proper defense with his shield. ¡°You learned well, eh?¡± Helen shouted as she tried for a stab. The marauder before her blocked it, his shield shaking as her spearhead scratched against hide and wood. The veteran quickly pulled back and sidestepped. Another strike, this time for Gustus¡¯ sword arm. The marauder reacted with prose, his sword shifting to block the spearhead. As a result, Helen¡¯s attack merely glanced off the blade.

    ¡°I¡¯m right to guess Ivana showed you that?¡± Helen asked. ¡°Is she still licking at Deimos¡¯ boot?!¡± With a shout, the veteran trusted her weapon once more.

    Success. The spear grazed her opponent¡¯s shoulder, ripping through exposed cloth and drawing blood. Gustus stepped back from Helen, his sword slashing as if to shoo her away.

    ¡°Ivana told us about you, you know? The Valkyrie from Azurvale,¡± Gustus said, ¡°A marauder that some men feared in the north. Havor and you were one step away from becoming elites before that incident in Yorktown.¡±

    Helen growled. ¡°As if you know anything, whelp. If you truly knew me, you would be wise to surrender this fight.¡± The veteran made her stance, her spear¡¯s blunt end tucked into her armpit. This was bad enough of a situation. If Ivana had really told Gustus about her reputation, then she surely taught him how to counter spear attacks. The veteran would have to be cautious about this fight.

    Gustus seemed to think about his situation. He even faltered his stance before he finally shook his head. ¡°The marauders are all I have left. I¡¯ll be damned before I subject myself to the shame you brought upon yourself,¡± Gustus called out.

    Helen grimaced, but kept her composure. She took another glance at Lars, only to see the man finish up with his bandages. Horror filled her chest as she watched the berserker make his way to Lilith¡¯s body. Helen attempted to intervene, but Gustus got in her way. He raised his shield, almost bashing the veteran¡¯s spear away.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± Helen shouted in anger.

    She could do nothing. It was only a matter of time before Lars reached the redhead and¨C

    Something caught Helen¡¯s eye. At first, she had begun to believe she was hallucinating or was tricked by the downpour of rain. Yet she soon found out that she was witnessing something real. Lilith was crawling, or something close to it. Her body wiggled and forced itself forward, heading towards Lars. No, she was heading towards the contents of the bag that fell to the ground. Helen wasn¡¯t sure what she was after until she spotted the bright red mushroom in front of her.

    ¡®No fucking¨C¡¯

    Helen watched as Lilith chomped on the mushroom, the red-haired woman chewing it quickly before Lars could realize what had happened. Lilith¡¯s body stiffened, and her muscles visibly went taut. The young woman slowly stood back up, but not before her teeth gripped onto one of her fallen axes. Helen knew very little of berserker mushrooms, but she had seen enough in the Outsider Wars to know of their deadly capabilities.

    Lilith¡¯s eyes seemed to blaze in the night, her breaths coming out like fumes. Lars stepped back even, his expression that of complete surprise. Yet it was quickly replaced by a smile.

    The shirtless marauder raised his useless right hand at her, his voice booming out in the rain, ¡°I¡¯m going to have the time of my life crushing your skull in!¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Flame Cleanse!¡±

    Dahlia winced as her spell cauterized the arrow wound. She did her best to say still as the rest of the cleansing flames engulfed her body. After half a minute, the spell finished its job. The shaman sighed in relief. She felt better now that the poison was out of her system.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± one gnome cursed out in the chamber, her foot kicking at the totem. Dahlia forced herself to stand.

    ¡°What is it?¡± She called out to the gnomes. The totem had been erected not too long ago, with the female gnome and Wheaton working on connecting it to the ley lines.

    ¡°The ley lines cannot be reached,¡± the female gnome pointed at the totem¡¯s gray runes, ¡°Nathan and the others should have fixed this by now!¡±

    ¡°We need to give them time!¡± Wheaton argued. ¡°They¡¯re probably still working on reactivating them!¡±

    The female gnome grabbed at her hair, her fingers pulling strands out. ¡°Oh, gods¡­ We¡¯re in the middle of a battlefield. We¡¯re going to die, aren¡¯t we?¡± She fell back on the ground, her body curling up. ¡°Just like Vinn, we¡¯re going to die¡­¡±

    Wheaton moved to comfort her, his voice soft and inaudible as he spoke. Rockford stood nearby, his expression grim and his gaze downcast. Even the last couple of guardsmen looked defeated, as they rested near the wall. Elaine was standing near Dahlia, the bard watching the scene in despair. The shaman turned to her, her focus moving to the bard¡¯s bloodstained hands.

    Elaine looked like hel. It was clear that this was her first exposure to actual battle. Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but feel guilt for allowing the bard to come. The shaman forced herself to look out the entrance to the tower. The courtyard was still a landscape of fighting and death. Marauders were overwhelming the Lumen soldiers and city guards, both of whom were still fighting each other. It was clear who the winner was going to be if this kept going.

    Dahlia bit her thumb, an old nervous tick coming back in full force. ¡°Dammit,¡± she muttered. ¡°Come on Seamus¡­ What are you doing?¡± She bit down even more, enough to break skin and draw blood. More fighting, more death. City guards taking arrows to their eyes and throats. Soldiers decapitating marauders.

    Suddenly, a horn sounded out. Dahlia flinched at the noise, her gaze quickly moving to the source. She blinked, unsure if she was seeing things. What she was witnessing was quickly confirmed by the surrounding forces. There was a wall of incoming mist from the eastern side of the courtyard. Marauders and soldiers all turned to the anomaly, the fighting in the courtyard almost coming to a standstill.

    The horn sounded out again and this time; it was accompanied by the sound of something slamming. It was like a thunder crack of noise, every slam almost synchronized. The sound continued with a symphony of voices.

    The shouts were of brutes, ones that Dahlia did not expect to hear.

    ¡®Is that¡­?¡¯

    Almost as if he was summoned, Dahlia could see him. Two pinpricks of blue burned through the mist, the glow reflecting off of steel and fur. He had his shield raised, along with the behemoths that stood at his side. Soon enough, James broke through the mist, the war chant continuing as the rest of his forces came through. Specters, resurrected corpses, and orcs all stood at his side, their shields and weapons raised.

    James raised his sword towards the courtyard, his mouth opening to shout. While Dahlia couldn¡¯t hear him through the rain and chanting, she could very well guess what he said. Orcs and undead charged forth, clashing with the soldiers and marauders. James himself ran into the fray, his sword flashing at the nearest marauder.

    Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but feel her lost hope returning. He was here, and he was buying them time. She looked back at her group, almost beaming with renewed vigor.

    ¡°James is here! We¡¯re going to win! We¡¯re going to¨C¡±

    ¡°Dahlia!¡±

    The shaman tensed up at Elaine¡¯s warning shout. She quickly turned, only to see a Lumen soldier coming at the entrance. She had been so focused on James that she neglected to look out for any incoming hostiles.

    The soldier before her swung his blade down at the shaman. Dahlia barely dodged it, her feet scampering away from the entrance. She grabbed at the pommel of her sword, unsheathing it in a hurry. More soldiers pushed through the entrance, almost all of them armed with swords and spears.

    ¡°Rush forth! Secure the tower before their reinforcements arrive!¡± One of them shouted out. Judging from the robes he was wearing, Dahlia guessed he was a cleric for the soldiers.

    ¡°Everyone! Swords up!¡± Dahlia shouted as she clashed blades with one soldier. ¡°Hold them off!¡± The remaining guards and thieves quickly moved to follow her orders, their weapons clashing with the line of soldiers rushing in. The shaman couldn¡¯t get an accurate number on them, but she guessed there were around five to six of the bastards. While they weren¡¯t as armored or as numerous as the soldiers that were with Lumen Knight Gryff, they were still going to be problematic. Especially with that damned cleric supporting them from the rear.

    ¡®I need to focus on their healer! If I can take him out, we might stand a chance!¡¯

    ¡°Elaine! Provide support!¡± Dahlia called back to the bard. She quickly back stepped and struck at her opponent, remembering what Harald had taught her back during training. Her blade struck against the soldier¡¯s steel breastplate, the sword¡¯s edge not enough to cut through. Still, it knocked him back a few steps and leave him open. Dahlia rushed forward, using this chance to stab at his exposed neck.

    ¡°Push!¡±

    The cleric¡¯s words echoed in the room, his casting accompanied by a gust of wind that shoved Dahlia back. She stumbled back a few meters, nearly losing her balance all together. She barely managed to block a counter attack from her opponent.

    ¡°Elaine! Cast buffs!¡± Dahlia yelled. No response. ¡°Elaine?!¡± The shaman deflected a slash, her eyes quickly risking a glance at the bard. Elaine was currently cowarding by the staircase, her knees buckling as she watched the battle before her. She was clearly terrified out of her mind, watching the carnage unfold.

    ¡°Elaine!!¡± Dahlia¡¯s shout finally got through to the bard, snapping the young woman out of her trance. Elaine stared at her in surprise, her mouth opening to say something. Dahlia wouldn¡¯t hear her, as something cold and biting entered her right shoulder.

    The soldier had used this chance to finally land a strike on Dahlia, his sword piercing through the exposed gap between her breastplate and pauldron. Dahlia gritted her teeth in pain as she was forced back. Her opponent pulled back and struck once more, this time aiming for her neck area.

    Dahlia quickly moved her left hand in the way, taking the strike through her palm. The sword pierced her hand fully, nearly reaching her neck. The shaman felt tears well in her eyes from the agony of the injury, yet she didn¡¯t falter. Using all her strength, she forced her right arm to move. Her sword ran through the soldier¡¯s throat, the wound faceting dark blood all over both fighters.

    ¡°Arcane Bolt!¡±

    The cleric shouted another casting. Dahlia half expected the spell to be directed towards her. Instead, she witnessed a nearby thief¡¯s head exploding, her corpse falling to the ground with a heavy thump. She stared at the sight, her gaze soon moving to the cleric responsible. He was forming runes with his hands, muttering healing spells to his allies as they pushed on.

    Only two raven guards remained now. They were trying their best to hold off the soldiers from the totem, but it was clear that they were on their last legs. Dahlia struggled to get the dead soldier out of the way, if only to cast a spell that could help. She tried to pull her left hand back, to get it unstuck from that bastard¡¯s sword. She instead made the wound worse, causing even more bleeding.

    ¡°F-Fuck!¡± Dahlia cursed. If she rushed it, she would eventually rip her hand in half. She couldn¡¯t afford that, not when she needed it to cast her advanced spells.

    ¡°Look at me and be dazzled! Orpheus¡¯ Display!¡±

    Elaine¡¯s shout echoed with magical power, her words accompanied by the musical notes of her lute. Dahlia felt her gaze forcibly move to the bard, her will compelled by the magical casting. Elaine was strumming away, her fingers glowing blue as they struck notes. The shaman could see from her peripheral how everyone in the room turned around, their gazes locked onto Elaine.

    ¡°I can¡¯t move!¡±

    ¡°What magic is this?!¡±

    They all were shouting and panicking, clearly unaware that Elaine had cast a mind spell. The bard before Dahlia gave her a look, one that told the shaman what was coming. Dahlia quickly closed her eyes, tightly shutting them just as the bard sang out once more.

    ¡°Shine bright and blind those who dare look at me, Flare!¡±

    Even with her eyes shut, Dahlia could see the blinding light that came from the spell. Everyone shouted out in confusion, giving the shaman her cue to act now. Dahlia opened her eyes and turned her gaze away from Elaine, who had fallen to the ground out of exhaustion. The bard¡¯s fall meant that the mind spell was quick to wear off, but she had done what needed to be done.

    Dahlia focused on the cleric at the rear, who, thankfully, was blinded by the flare spell. She raised her working hand at the robed man, her fingers forming one simple rune.

    ¡°Ignition!¡±

    Magical weight accompanied the shaman¡¯s shout, her reserves draining slowly. She focused as hard as she could, watching as the rune slowly materialized on the cleric¡¯s robes. The range for her spell was limited, so the shaman needed to bolster it. Still, it didn¡¯t mean it was going to be quick. The Ignition spell was agonizingly slow, the rune taking its time to fully form onto the troubling cleric. Dahlia could only hope that Elaine could keep the flare spell up long enough.

    As Dahlia focused, she could hear the telltale sound of steps coming from her left. Her heart dropped at the sight of a soldier running towards her, his eyes closed as he brandished his sword.

    ¡®He figured out my general direction just from the sound of my voice!¡¯

    Dahlia debated in that split second about whether she should give up on her Ignition spell and focus on defending herself.

    ¡®No! It¡¯s either that spellcaster dies or we all do!¡¯

    She kept her focus, mentally preparing herself to take the hit head on. Dahlia gritted her teeth as the soldier reached striking distance.

    shink!

    The shaman blinked. Hot blood speckled all over her face and mouth, leaving a steel taste on her lips. Despite the sudden spray of blood, she did not feel pain. Before she could process what happened, her Ignition rune completed. The cleric before her burst into flames, his screams echoing throughout the room.

    The other soldiers around the cleric stared at the sight of the burning man, who screamed in agony as he tried to put the flames out. Their formation broke almost immediately. They all looked to the shaman, their faces turning from confusion to complete panic.

    ¡°Shadow Bind!¡±

    Dahlia watched as black mist suddenly rushed into the building, the magical smoke binding all of them. They all struggled, but none could break out.

    ¡°Thank you for taking out that cursed cleric,¡± a sinister voice called out behind Dahlia. The shaman turned around to see the necromancer, Malik. He was at the entrance of the tower, his hands forming the Shadow Bind runes. He gave Dahlia a deranged smile, his focus on her.

    ¡®No¡­ not me.¡¯

    Dahlia turned around and looked at the man she had thought had stabbed her. Instead, he was slumped in place, with his weapon on the ground. There was a sword in his gut, the owner of it being the zombified corpse of a Lumen soldier. Or what had been a Lumen soldier. Flesh hung off its face and arm, its armor half burnt while the other half looked pristine.

    The blood on the shaman¡¯s face was not of her own, but of the dead man in front of her.

    ¡°No need to thank me. I was just following orders,¡± Malik called out as he stepped past Dahlia. He stood next to Dahlia¡¯s attacker, his hands forming runes. ¡°Resurrect,¡± he muttered. Purple tendrils of magic emerged from his fingers, stabbing into the corpse.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Dahlia asked, her voice wavering between horror and shock.

    ¡°Collecting what¡¯s now mine,¡± Malik chuckled.The corpse twitched in response to the magic, its eyes and mouths glowing a bright purple as a result. The necromancer watched with glee as the once dead man groaned and rose.

    Without missing a beat, Malik gestured to the entrance of the tower. Dahlia watched on as more undead slumbered into the tower. They all ranged between Lumen soldiers and marauders, their eyes glowing a dull purple.

    Dahlia could only watch as the necromancer sicced his undead army onto the restrained soldiers.

 B.3 Chapter 50: Fall

    Lilith remembered the forests of Aldren. She recalled the bountiful creatures and plants that inhabited them. The young woman had scoured berries and small animals in her initial years of survival. She ate what she knew was safe and drank water that was clear enough to see through. At some point, she had come across a certain piece of food. A mushroom with red spots.

    Lilith had eaten mushrooms before, mainly the ones her mother used to pick from the woods. Yet this was one she had never seen. The young woman had taken her chances and had only taken a small bite from it. The next thing she knew, she was tearing through a bear¡¯s guts with only an ax and knife. Since then, she had sworn not to take them, as the mushroom¡¯s effects scarred her and had turned her into something else.

    However, now it was different. Lilith had recognized the red spotted cap once it fell from Lars¡¯ mangled hand. She ate it whole this time, not caring if she died from it. This was her last stand, one that needed to end with Lars dead and Helen alive.

    ¡®Kill! Kill! Kill!¡¯

    Lilith could feel her body burning as she screamed. Her muscles were heating to an extreme, despite the icy rain that showered her. She couldn¡¯t feel her injuries anymore, her rage numbing everything. The young woman felt nothing but killer instinct, something that reminded her of her days back in Aldren.

    ¡°You¡¯re just like me, eh?!¡± Lars shouted.

    Lilith ignored him, her teeth clamping down on the ax handle she had picked up earlier. Her arms were too injured to fight, forcing her to use her ax like this. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but she didn¡¯t care. All that mattered was that she could still fight.

    Lilith rushed towards Lars, her neck whipping around like lightning. The ax made contact with Lars¡¯ warhammer, which blocked the strike aimed for his neck.

    ¡°You¡¯re a berserker! A being fueled by their rage and strength!¡± Lars grinned as he pulled back, his left arm struggling to swing his hammer.

    Lilith dodged it, her legs crouching as the hammer¡¯s head swung past her. She leapt from the ground, her ax swinging once more. Lars quickly used the end of his weapon¡¯s staff to deflect the ax head, making it so it only nicked him. Before she knew it, Lilith felt the man¡¯s knee plant itself in her gut. The young woman stumbled back, her body responding with a cough that almost made her drop her weapon.

    ¡°Only difference is that I¡¯m stronger!¡± Lars shouted before he kicked her back once more. Lilith fell back onto the ground, splashing rainwater. She could feel every fiber of her body burning with heat as she attempted to get up, her every breath coming out in a cloud of steam.

    ¡®Nothing. Like. YOU.¡¯

    Lilith tried to stand up straight, yet her left ankle refused to work. She struggled harder, her eyes welling up with tears from the sharp pain.

    ¡°Just admit it,¡± Lars muttered as he hefted his warhammer. ¡°You¡¯re like me.¡±

    Lilith stopped. As much as she hated to agree with him, he was right. The young woman was just like this monster. For the past year, Lilith had been trying to avoid losing control and letting herself loose. Seamus had taught her to be civil, to act normal. Yet that never worked. Every fight she¡¯d been in, Lilith had tried to mimic a proper fighting style. No matter what, however, she had always reverted to her old self, in one way or another.

    Berserker. Savage. Butcher. Lilith had been called these things most of her life. Either by the citizens of Aldren or the orcs that had invaded her island. Even some of the townsfolk had called her such. No matter what she did to shed her old self, the young woman always went back to that life. To when she had to survive.

    ¡®Survive! You must survive!¡¯

    Lilith gritted her teeth as she stood up. She put all her weight onto her right foot, using her left foot to navigate and balance herself.

    ¡°Coming for another round?¡± Lars laughed.

    ¡°Kill¡­ you,¡± Lilith grunted out forcibly. She clenched her jaw tightly before she rushed.

    Lars swung forward with his hammer, aiming to counter her attack. Yet it never came. Lilith quickly stepped back, feinting her initial strike. Lars noticed this too late, as his hammer was already in full swing. It struck the ground, the impact enough to crack the platform and send water everywhere. Lilith leapt towards Lars, her good foot stomping on the hammer¡¯s staff.

    Her ax flashed and struck against flesh, drawing out a shout of pain from Lars. She had missed his neck and struck behind his left shoulder instead.

    ¡°You bitch!¡± Lars dropped his grip on the hammer and smacked Lilith with his left hand. The young berserker stumbled back, her jaw loosening to let go of the buried ax. She regained her footing quickly and rushed again.

    Lars tried to grab the ax buried in his shoulder, but his right hand was too mangled to grab at it. His left simply couldn¡¯t reach it. Lilith screamed as she tackled the marauder to the ground, her teeth latching onto Lars¡¯ soft throat. She bit down hard, her legs wrapping around Lars to keep him from prying her off. The berserker felt her teeth sink into his jugular, the taste of blood filling her mouth.

    She could feel blows land on her body, every punch bruising and breaking her body even more. Lars pushed and punched, doing his absolute damndest to get Lilith off of him. Unfortunately for him, her grip was like a vise.

    The berserker shook her head like a wolf with prey, her teeth soon tearing through flesh and muscle. Blood filled her mouth as she began to pull. With every fiber of her being, the berserker tore out the piece of flesh, splattering hot crimson all over both fighters.

    Lars¡¯ eyes widened at the sight, his lips moving as he tried to say something. He only managed to gargle. Lilith watched as the man below her tried to stem the bleeding, to no avail. Their gazes locked for a moment, both of their eyes unblinking. Lilith could see how Lars¡¯ life weakly flickered in his irises before he finally succumbed to the fatal wound.

    Lilith spat out the flesh in her mouth, her body slowly cooling off in the rain. She looked off to her left, where Helen and Gustus were earlier. The blonde woman was currently resting on a knee, her spear bloodied and her opponent on the ground. Lilith tried to move, but only fell onto the ground next to Lars.

    The young woman looked up at the sky, her eyelids slowly getting heavier.

    ¡®So tired¡­¡¯

    Before she knew it, her world had gone dark once more.

    <hr>

    Seamus felt frustration build up inside him. He was useless once again. The young man could only watch as the Wizards before him clashed with Eli¡¯s spells. Nathan¡¯s clones were disappearing by droves, making it harder for the young Wizard to avoid getting hit. Falrick was much more careful with his attacks, since his body was already at its limit. Eli looked to be slowing down, but his spells were still as deadly as before.

    The spellcaster whipped his head to Nathan once more, this time summoning two Arcane Bolts from his eyes. They flew at high speeds towards the Wizard, but were quickly blocked.

    ¡°Barrier!¡± Nathan¡¯s voice boomed as he summoned a blue shield. The Arcane Bolts struck the barrier, resulting in both castings shattering.

    ¡°You must be overheating, no?¡± Eli called out, ¡°Here! Let me help!¡±

    The beholder user clasped his hands together, his eyes brightening. Falrick tried to interrupt, but the black mist had already covered Eli. The chamber shook and Seamus could only watch as the floor beneath them splintered. Suddenly, spikes of ice shot out towards Nathan, taking out more of his clones. One specific spike aimed right for the main Wizard, its jagged tip speeding through the air.

    ¡°Golden Carapace!¡± Falrick shouted.

    The ice spike hit Nathan the minute Falrick¡¯s spell took hold. There was a loud shatter and a bright flash of magical feedback. Seamus blinked and watched as Nathan fell back. His chest was bleeding, but the Wizard wasn¡¯t dead. At least, not yet. Nathan used his staff to prop himself up, his legs struggling to keep him standing. Without a word, the Wizard planted his feet and aimed his staff once more at the marauder. Flames were summoned to the tip of the wooden tool, all of it gathering around the red stone tip.

    ¡°You think I¡¯ll let you cast that again?!¡± Eli moved to finish him off, but was quickly interfered.

    ¡°Thunder Bolt!¡±

    A bolt of lightning cracked down on the spellcaster, the spell tearing another hole through the ceiling. As a result, more rain seeped into the chamber, soaking everything around Eli and Falrick. Black mist shifted and Eli stepped out of his bubble, unscathed. Both men faced each other off, with Falrick summoning even more spells as Eli tried to finish him and Nathan off. The younger Wizard was currently summoning his spell, which was taking longer than expected.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± Seamus cursed. He clenched his fists tightly, angry that he couldn¡¯t do anything. ¡°I¡¯m fucking useless! I¨C¡± Seamus was interrupted by someone grabbing at his collar. He suddenly came face to face with Haggard, who just regained consciousness. The drifter looked like shit, his skin pale and his eyes devoid of the joy they once held.

    ¡°Are you going to keep cursing yourself? Or are you going to fight?¡± He asked.

    ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t. I can¡¯t fight Eli,¡± Seamus admitted. ¡°I can¡¯t cast spells and I¡¯m not able to¨C¡±

    ¡°Listen to me,¡± Haggard managed with a grimace, ¡°You are more than capable of killing him. That Eli is nothing compared to you¡­¡±

    Seamus blinked, ¡°What? He¡¯s stronger than me! He¡¯s¨C¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s an idiot. Look at him¡­ He¡¯s at his limit already. With something as powerful as beholder eyes, he¡¯s having trouble with you lot, no?¡± Haggard pointed out, ¡°He¡¯s lazy. That idiot never had the audacity to train his ability. You, on the other hand. You trained since you were able to walk, no?¡±

    ¡°I- I¡­.¡± Seamus trailed off. He looked down at his hands, which were still calloused from all those times he trained.

    ¡°You took on a Lumen Knight, Seamus. You can sure as hel take on a bastard who has never trained in his life,¡± Haggard reached into his belt, his hand producing a vial, ¡°This is vitality¡­ It¡¯ll probably speed up the poison in you but¡­ it¡¯ll give you a boost.¡±

    Seamus carefully accepted the vial, his fingers grasping at the copper material. He tucked it into his armor. ¡°Thank you,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°Give him hel, Seamus. I know you will,¡± Haggard grinned.

    The young man nodded before he stood up. He focused on the battle in front of him. Falrick was still trying to protect Nathan, who was still gathering flames around his staff. They had grown to an extraordinary amount, doubling in size of what Seamus thought a spell could get. Eli was trying to use his mist to attack Nathan whilst also keeping Falrick at bay. This conundrum had left the spellcaster open at a certain angle.

    Seamus took a couple of breaths, trying his best to keep his lungs from coughing more blood. His legs were still wobbly, but he forced them to be still. With little prep time, Seamus ran forward, his sword in hand. It was like running through pudding, his legs on the verge of giving out with every step. Yet he pushed on, his hands shifting his sword to point at Eli. The spellcaster was still oblivious, his gaze focused on Falrick as the Wizard tried for an Arcane Bolt.

    Seamus grew closer, his jaw clenching as he neared Eli. Before he knew it, he had stepped past the black mist that was surrounding him. It was then that Eli had finally noticed him. Black mist shifted and shot straight to Seamus, but it was already too late. His sword was already inbound, its tip reaching one of Eli¡¯s eyes.

    Steel met with flesh, and everything turned bright. Seamus was surprised at how much the eye resisted, but he pushed on regardless. With effort and a scream of anger, his sword pierced through, taking out the eye with a shower of purple sparks.

    The magical feedback was enough to throw Seamus back. He stumbled but kept his footing. Eli screamed and grabbed at his bloody socket, the black mist around him going crazy. Seamus readied for another strike but was pulled back suddenly, avoiding getting skewered by spears that had come from nowhere.

    ¡°Get away!¡± Falrick shouted as he forced Seamus away.

    Before he could ask, Seamus was reminded of Nathan. The Wizard¡¯s Fireball had grown bigger, its heat melting the ice spikes around him. The flames soon shrunk in size, their color immediately changing from orange to a bright blue. Nathan¡¯s spell sounded out in the chamber, his voice dripping with malice.

    ¡°Fireball.¡±

    The ball of flame rushed forward, sizzling through the air as they headed towards Eli. Before he knew it, the Fireball had collided with the spellcaster. Heat and smoke rushed everywhere, blinding Seamus and Falrick and kicking them down. The sound of the inferno only lasted for a few seconds. Then, silence. Seamus coughed as he got up again, his eyes scanning the fog.

    ¡°Falrick? Are you¨C?¡±

    Seamus was interrupted when blackened spears rushed out of the smoke. Instincts kicked in and Seamus barely dodged them. Falrick, however, was not so lucky. The spears effortlessly cut through the Wizard¡¯s left arm, tearing it off in a shower of crimson.

    ¡°Falrick!¡± Seamus shouted. He tried to tend to the old man, but more spears came towards the young man. Seamus quickly reacted, his sword deflecting a couple before one got through. The black mist grazed his shoulder and neck, cutting through armor and burning through flesh.

    Seamus winced and faltered, costing him another wound, this one grazing his leg. More pain. ¡°Gah!¡± Seamus stumbled back. He stepped forward and tried to raise his sword. He couldn¡¯t. His arms were too weak. His legs were even giving out on him. Seamus coughed out blood, the crimson liquid now staining his lips and chin. He couldn¡¯t breathe right anymore. The poison had finally gotten to him.

    ¡°F-Fuck! Not¡­ Not like this!¡± Seamus stumbled forward and fell to the ground. He could only watch as the smoke slowly cleared to reveal Eli. The spellcaster looked enraged, his lone eye burning with hatred as he stared at Seamus.

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°I will rip your body apart and use it as feed for my raven,¡± Eli scowled as he stepped closer to Seamus, ¡°That is all you shall be remembered for. The last son of Yorn, reduced to nothing but a useless corpse.¡±

    Seamus tried to speak but his lungs and closing throat wouldn¡¯t allow for it. He could only gasp for air as Eli raised his fingers towards him.

    ¡®James. Dahlia. Kate, I¡¯m sorry. I failed you all.¡¯

    Seamus gritted his teeth, waiting for the spears to come and finish him.

    ¡°Berserker Stomp!¡±

    The ground shook and splintered at the casting. Eli stumbled and turned to the source, his eye widening at the sight. Before Seamus could turn to see who it was, Haggard jumped into view. The drifter was staggering and bleeding, but he was still fighting. His hammer flew at Eli, its speed still enough to catch the spellcaster off guard. Black mist barely blocked it, but the drifter was not done yet. Haggard continued to advance to Eli, his castings keeping the marauder at bay.

    ¡°Burn!¡± Even Nathan was joining in, his staff glowing weakly as he cast spells towards the beholder user.

    Seamus turned to his sword, which laid nearby. He attempted to grab it, but his body failed to respond. He was already at his rope¡¯s end. His body was too weak. Seamus turned onto his back, his lungs coughing out once more. The taste of blood was overwhelming, but the young man could do nothing about it.

    ¡®Is this what death feels like?¡¯

    Seamus thought back to when he saw James die. The sight of the bloodied man had always stuck with him, reminding him what happened to those who tried to be a hero. He had sworn to himself he wouldn¡¯t be as dumb as the otherworlder. That he wouldn¡¯t take unnecessary risks. Yet here he was, dying as his friends fought for their lives. He would laugh if it didn¡¯t hurt.

    Seamus felt everything go cold as he succumbed to the darkness that came for him.

    <hr>

    Sounds of battle filled the air, followed by screams and shouts. Marauders and Lumen soldiers were fighting for their lives in the courtyard, their struggle not helped at all by the inclusion of the Draugr. Yet for Deimos, this was exactly what he was looking forward to. After fighting through the southern districts of Vindis, he had finally reached the center. Had it not been for the herald and those Lumen Knights slowing him down, the chieftain would have already captured the courtyard. Still, he did not complain. A challenge was always welcomed.

    Even with his wounds and damaged armor, the Red Death was more than capable of tearing through guardsmen and soldiers alike. He pushed through the courtyard, his ax and great sword cutting down anyone who got in his way. He only stopped when someone shot an Arcane Bolt towards him. The bolt grazed his helmet, nearly taking the helm off. Thankfully, Deimos had Carapace cast onto himself. He looked to where the spell came from, his gaze soon focusing on an injured spellcaster. The bastard was Lumen, judging from the sun embroidered on his robes.

    ¡°You have some balls attacking me,¡± Deimos called out.

    ¡°Die you bastard!¡± The Lumen spellcaster shouted before he formed another rune with his fingers. ¡°Arcane¨C¡±

    His spell was interrupted when a sword was driven through his chest. Deimos blinked at the sudden death. He watched as the spellcaster was forced to the side, his corpse becoming one of many in the courtyard. Standing in his place was an armored marauder, one whose features were covered by their steel face-guard. Still, Deimos could never forget Ivana¡¯s unique steel armor, as the left side of her helmet and arm were painted in red war-paint.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be so reckless,¡± Ivana called out before she turned to meet a thief¡¯s advancing dagger.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the joy in sitting on the sidelines?¡± Deimos chuckled as he used his ax to block a guard¡¯s attempted strike. He dispatched the city guard with his sword, piercing the man¡¯s neck and granting him a quick death.

    ¡°Commanders rarely jump into the fray like this!¡± Ivana grunted as she stabbed through the thief who had tried to sneak attack her. ¡°You are already injured, no?¡±

    ¡°This?¡± Deimos gestured to himself. ¡°Light wounds. They won¡¯t slow me¡ª¡± He was interrupted when an orc rushed in, the brutish creature swinging its mace at Deimos. Deimos quickly raised his left arm in defense, taking the strike head on. The orc¡¯s mace struck his gauntlet, the attack enough to strain Deimos¡¯ Carapace spell. The chieftain gritted his teeth as the smell of berries overpowered his nostrils. He retaliated with his own strike, his ax swinging over at the brute.

    The bearded ax head struck the orc¡¯s shoulder flesh, hooking the brute in. Deimos pulled hard, bringing the savage down onto its knees. With a quick thrust, his left hand shoved the longsword it held into the orc¡¯s exposed face.

    ¡°Damn orcs!¡± Ivana cursed as she backed up. The marauder was facing off another of the creatures, this one brandishing a cleaver of sorts. ¡°Out of all the things, I never expected him to lead these brutes!¡± Ivana sidestepped and plunged her enchanted blade into the orc¡¯s gut, drawing a loud yell of pain from the creature.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± With a shout, the marauder¡¯s blade was forced out of the orc¡¯s body, disemboweling its guts and finally killing it.

    Deimos turned to where the orcs came from. Right near the center, across from the tower, was him. Despite not seeing him since the last Frost solstice, Deimos knew he was looking at James Holter. The young man still emanated that aura of uneasiness and danger. His eyes burned with a fury that surprised even Deimos. He had not seen such a vicious look since Yorn. James was currently fighting against Lumen soldiers, his sword cutting through them whilst his shield deflected any and all attacks.

    ¡°Be it a battlefield or raid, we will meet again,¡± Deimos muttered to himself with a smile on his face.

    ¡°Ivana, push through to the north of the courtyard. I shall take care of Holter and capture the center,¡± Deimos ordered. Ivana¡¯s body tensed up, and she seemed to hesitate. Regardless, she moved to the north side, obeying his orders. With that, the Red Death pushed through towards the center.

    He cut down Lumen soldiers who tried to get in his way, his sword and ax tasting blood and ripping through flesh as he tore through. Orcs and thieves tried to get to him, but Deimos handled them just fine. After all, they were just fodder.

    Soon enough, he would begin to close in on the Draugr himself. James was currently finishing a marauder who had attempted to kill him. Once the young man was done with his fight, his focus turned to the incoming chieftain. Deimos stopped where he was, his ax rising to point towards his opponent. James went still, his body visibly tensing up. Deimos stared back, his grin growing as the young man began to walk forward. The chieftain himself also started to walk, his weapons swaying at his side. Right now, it felt like they were the only ones on that battlefield. The sounds of battle were even drowned out in the focus. This was their fated duel, one that was bound to happen.

    At least, that was what he had hoped for. Deimos soon saw something that caught his attention. There was someone coming up behind James, his Shadow Step spell dissipating once he got close enough. This man was another who also radiated the strange aura the blond man had. The stranger wore steel armor, one that looked close to Lumen, but without that damned wax symbol. Deimos¡¯ eyes soon focused on the man¡¯s blade, which burned with active runes.

    The Red Death could only watch as the stranger raised his sword and struck down at Holter. James quickly reacted, his body swiveling to meet the other man¡¯s strike. While he blocked the sword, the stranger wasn¡¯t finished. Both men fought, their weapons clashing as Deimos watched on. The chieftain clenched his jaw in anger.

    ¡°If anyone is going to kill him, it¡¯s going to be me.¡±

    He attempted to intervene, but was interrupted by another asshole with armor.

    ¡°Deimos of the North!¡± It was a younger man, one who wore the damned symbol of Delphine.

    ¡°A Lumen Knight? I thought I killed you all!¡± Deimos shouted as he swung his blades towards the knight. The bastard blocked it with his shield, his sword flashing at the chieftain.

    ¡°By Delphine¡¯s will, I¡¯ll gut you and force your soul to repent!¡± The knight screamed as he rushed.

    ¡°Snipe!¡±

    He wasn¡¯t alone either, as an empowered arrow struck Deimos¡¯ shoulder. The steel tip pierced the marauder¡¯s enchanted armor and embedded itself into his flesh. The one responsible was another Lumen bastard, this one armed with a bow. Behind her were more soldiers, their weapons enchanted and their gazes fixed on Deimos. The chieftain clenched his jaw in frustration at the sight of them all. His fated duel was going to have to wait.

    <hr>

    James was struggling. Faust had barely protected him from a deadly strike to the spine. Both of them didn¡¯t even see Arthur coming. James stumbled back from the older man, his shield raising.

    ¡°Wait! Arthur¨C!¡± The apostle struck the round shield with such strength that it caused James to lose his balance. Arthur used this chance to attempt a stab at the clan leader again. James felt his body burn with effort as Faust took control for a moment. The spirit quickly rolled away from Arthur¡¯s strike, avoiding getting gutted.

    ¡°Hiding behind that spirit, are we?!¡± Arthur shouted as he pressed on. The apostle raised his left hand, forming his fingers into a rune. ¡°Holy Light!¡±

    A flash of light blinded everything and forced James to snap back in control. Bewildered, James swung his sword quickly, unintentionally clashing against Arthur¡¯s.

    ¡®What the hell was that?!¡¯ James thought in surprise.

    ¡®That spell burned! I couldn¡¯t hold on to your body for long¡­¡¯ Faust sounded exhausted, his voice strained. ¡®You¡¯re on your own.¡¯

    ¡°Shit!¡± James cursed. He deflected another strike with his shield, Arthur¡¯s sword sticking to the wood. He attempted to pull back, to rip the weapon out of the apostle¡¯s hand. Yet Arthur was faster and stronger. The older man used this chance to rip the shield away from James, leaving him defenseless.

    ¡®James!¡¯ Faust¡¯s warning fell flat, as it was already too late. James flinched as he felt burning steel enter his body. He coughed out in response, his mouth filling with the taste of copper.

    James staggered back, his eyes moving to his torso. Arthur¡¯s blade had left a sizable wound in his gut, the wound bleeding excessively as a result. James held back another cough, both his hands gripping onto his sword.

    ¡®Faust!¡¯ he called for the spirit. No answer.

    ¡®Faust?! Don¡¯t fuck around, man! We need to¨C¡¯

    James coughed again, his body buckling as he fell to the ground. His chest was now in horrible pain, the agony of it enough to make him gasp in shock.

    ¡°Faust!¡± James shouted aloud, spittle and blood flying out of his lips.

    ¡°He won¡¯t help,¡± Arthur suddenly spoke.

    ¡°What?¡± James looked up at the apostle, who looked down at him in pity. ¡°What¡­ What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s gone. Exorcised,¡± Arthur stepped forward, his sword¡¯s runes burning to an extraordinary amount, ¡°If you have any dignity left, you¡¯ll let me finish this. Once and for all.¡±

    ¡°Shut¡­ up!¡± James shouted. He swung his sword again, trying to hit the apostle. Arthur simply avoided it, his boot kicking the sword away. It clattered and spun on the ground, out of reach. James was still not out of options.

    He quickly unsheathed his backup ax to fight Arthur. He stopped short once he swung his first attack, as his chest pains proved to be too much. As a result, his ax missed its intended target. James tried to attack again but another wave of pain hit him, the agony of it enough for him to lose his balance. He fell back to the ground, dropping his weapon in the process. He could feel the blood leak from his body, the coldness of the rain numbing everything.

    ¡°Are you finished?¡± Arthur muttered.

    ¡°No, not yet!¡± James slammed his left hand onto the wet ground before swiping the water towards Arthur. Using whatever energy he had left, he froze the rainwater. The desperate act created a shoddy ice wall that blinded the apostle. In spite of this, Arthur quickly got through the improvised barrier, his boot and sword tearing it down. However, that was only a distraction.

    James¡¯ ley lines burned with effort as he formed a rune with his bandaged hand, his other hand holding his left arm still.

    ¡°Ice Lance!¡±

    He could feel the last of his reserves run dry, leaving him with no more castings. The Ice Lance flew towards Arthur, who was caught off guard. The lance was shoddy, made out of pure desperation. James only knew it thanks to Gryff, but even then, he was merely mimicking what he had seen. Thankfully, his spell was enough to catch Arthur off guard and pierce through his shoulder.

    The older man stumbled back, his hand quickly moving to rip the lance out of his shoulder. James did his best to create some distance, his legs kicking him away from the incoming threat.

    ¡°Running away?¡± Arthur asked. ¡°I¡¯d at least expect you to accept your death like a man.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m not ready to die,¡± James spat out. His hand slipped underneath his armor. ¡°Not now. Not when I have to finish what I started.¡±

    ¡°So why crawl away?¡± Arthur humored.

    James chuckled as he brought out a small gray stone, its face smooth like glass. It was a precautionary gift from Falrick, given to him before the raid.

    ¡°Fireball spells need a three meter clearing before firing,¡± James revealed. Arthur¡¯s expression dropped at the sight of the rune. He quickly rushed forward, just as James aimed it.

    ¡°Fireball!¡±

    ¡°Snipe!¡±

    A bright flash of flame and magical feedback flared from the casting, nearly blinding James. Yet the spell did not fire in the direction he was aiming for. Instead, an arrow came out of nowhere and struck his hand, shifting his right arm and forcibly redirecting the Fireball to the left of James. A sudden burst of heat washed over him, along with splintered wood and smoldering embers. It would¡¯ve cooked him alive had it not been for his Carapace, which didn¡¯t hold on for long. A sound like glass shattering soon followed the shockwave, signifying to James that his physical casting had given in to the Fireball¡¯s impact.

    Shink!

    Right after the magical explosion, he felt the telltale feeling of something piercing his chest.

    James blinked, and his vision was clear once more. The Fireball had destroyed the ground next to him, creating a smoldering hole that showed the black waters underneath. Arthur was above him, his hands holding the sword that ran through James¡¯ chest. The golden blade had runes that burned a hot white, enchantments shimmering as they assisted the weapon in piercing the steel breastplate.

    James turned to where the arrow had come from. To the right of both the Outlanders, was an archer that bore the Lumen Knight seal on their chest piece. James realized then that they had broken away from their fight with Deimos to interrupt the Fireball.

    The dying Jarl tried to speak, to say something biting. Yet he only regurgitated blood.

    ¡°This is where your path ends, Holter,¡± Arthur muttered.

    ¡®It hurts so much¡­¡¯

    James hadn¡¯t been in so much pain before. He could feel the cold grasp of death overcoming him, the feeling all too familiar. It came with a sense of fear that blossomed in his chest. The same fear he had felt back when he laid on that cold stone courtyard. It was haunting.

    James grabbed at Arthur¡¯s breastplate, gripping onto it as he tried to get up.

    ¡®I can¡¯t die¡­ I don¡¯t want to die¡­ I don¡¯t want to¨C¡¯

    James coughed again, sending more specks of blood onto the apostle.

    ¡°It ends here. Tonight,¡± Arthur repeated. With no empathy, the apostle wrenched the blade out of James. The younger man winced in pain, his body collapsing to the ground. He tried to get up again, this time grabbing Arthur¡¯s arm.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be this way,¡± James managed out.

    ¡°It has to be this way,¡± Arthur muttered. He shoved James to the ground, kicking him away right after. ¡°When you see Thien, tell him I¡¯ll be coming for his favorite summon.¡±

    ¡°Summon¡­?¡± James looked up at Arthur.

    ¡°Naomi Miller. Once I¡¯m done here, I¡¯ll be finishing her off as well. Tell that to Thien and his cursed sister when you see them,¡± Arthur revealed.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to kill her?¡± James asked in disbelief. He gestured to the seven pointed sun on Arthur¡¯s chest. ¡°Delphine ordered you, didn¡¯t she? You¡¯re really going to hunt your own? Be her fucking pawn?¡± He grunted. He was doing his best not to cough again.

    ¡°We¡¯re both pawns,¡± Arthur answered. ¡°Summoned here by uncaring gods who see us as nothing more than fodder and pieces in their game. Both you and Naomi by that mad god and his cursed offspring,¡± the apostle pointed a thumb to his chest, ¡°and me from that damned goddess Delphine. We don¡¯t belong here. From the start, we were nothing more than outworlders. Fracturing this world and knocking everything off balance. Getting rid of our influence is for the best.¡±

    With little ceremony, the Outlander placed his boot onto James¡¯ back.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry you were roped into this. You had an unlucky hand from the start.¡± With that, Arthur kicked James Holter into the smoldering hole created earlier, sending the blond man into the depths of the black sea.

 B.3 Chapter 51: Black Waters

    ¡°Let me go! I can still save him!¡± Dahlia shouted.

    She struggled against Elaine¡¯s and Rockford¡¯s hold, their grip barely enough to hold her back. The shaman needed to break free, to save James. There was still time to revive him. She could always redo the ritual from a year back. If she managed the first time, she could certainly do it again, right?

    ¡°He¡¯s gone!¡± Elaine shouted. ¡°There¡¯s no way he can survive that!¡±

    ¡°Let go!¡± Dahlia desperately protested. She could feel hot tears run down her cheeks, her voice cracking as she screamed, ¡°I can do my ritual again! I¡¯m better now! I¡¯ve improved enough!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re out of castings!¡± Elaine reminded her. ¡°What are you going to do with just one hand and no reserves?¡±

    Dahlia clenched her teeth tightly, enough to send sharp pains through her jaw. The bard was right. She was out of castings. Most of them were spent on that damned fogcloud and fighting those fucking marauders and soldiers. The shaman couldn¡¯t even fight properly, as her left hand was too injured to be used effectively.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± Dahlia cursed to herself. She had trained so much, learned new spells, unlocked an entire branch of magic. Yet she was powerless to save the one person who had pushed her to be her best. The one person she cared about more than anything.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to retreat,¡± Rockford muttered. The dwarf was also right. With James gone from the front, everyone would be without hope. Not only that, but the alarm totem was still without the ley line connection. It was clear that Seamus¡¯ group was either dead or worse.

    ¡°Where will we go?¡± a surviving guardsman asked. ¡°If those marauders take the city, they¡¯ll be coming for Yorktown next¡­¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to keep moving,¡± Dahlia finally spoke up. ¡°Hold out on other islands. Whether it be Aldren or anywhere near Azurvale, we have to keep moving.¡± She took a deep breath, sucking up her tears and grief. ¡°We can¡¯t let the white raven die. Not tonight.¡±

    ¡°Is that even a plan?¡± Elaine asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s the only one we have.¡±

    <hr>

    James sank through the freezing sea, his eyes watching the only source of light fade by the second. He could feel his body shut down slowly, every part of him numb and void of any weight.

    ¡®Second chance at life and you blew it.¡¯

    He wanted to chuckle at his misfortune, yet not even that part of his body wanted to work.

    ¡®It¡¯s only fair, honestly. Second chances are rare. My luck was bound to turn at some point. I just wish it didn¡¯t end like this¡­¡¯

    Dahlia, Seamus, Harald. They had all counted on him. They all fought and bled for him. James had hoped that maybe he could lead them to an actual victory one last time before his time ran out.

    ¡®At least fate balanced itself out. If Iendis¡¯ explanation was any comfort, it means my friends have a better chance of coming out alive,¡¯

    James recalled the goddess¡¯ example with the scales. His death will reset the scales, balancing itself out for the better. With some luck, his allies could get out of this.

    ¡®I hope they get to safety. God knows what will happen if Deimos gets his hands on them.¡¯

    He half expected a response. One that would comfort his fears and pressure. Instead, he got silence as an answer.

    ¡®Oh¡­ right. You¡¯re already gone, huh?¡¯

    Faust was gone as well. The spirit¡¯s bond was broken from him, the act possibly sending him to Helheim or whatever this world¡¯s afterlife was called.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry I never got to show my appreciation to you. You were the best wingman I had. Not that it meant you were any good at pickup lines, but¡­¡¯

    James forced himself to give a half smile.

    ¡®Thank you, Faust. For everything.¡¯

    James felt his eyelids slowly close, the darkness of the sea surrounding him.

    The man from another world fully accepted his fate then and here, submitting his body to the cold once again.

    <hr>

    ¡°Seamus?¡±

    A soft voice stirred the world around the young man.

    ¡°Seamus, dear¡­ are you alright?¡±

    Seamus shifted, his eyes slowly opening.

    ¡°You¡¯re awake.¡±

    Mother was there, her soft smile comforting the child as he awoke. Little Seamus groaned as he looked around. He was lying on his mother¡¯s lap, his body covered with a soft blanket. They were both in the library, right next to the fireplace. Seamus turned to his mother, his eyes settling on the small rose shaped locket she always wore around her neck.

    ¡°Another nightmare?¡± His mother¡¯s voice called out once more.

    The young child nodded as he sat up. He rested his head against her shoulder, his hands pulling the warm blanket up to his chin.

    ¡°Everyone was dying this time,¡± Seamus muttered. ¡°I couldn¡¯t do anything. Just like¡­¡± He couldn¡¯t bring himself to finish his sentence.

    ¡°Just like when you lost us,¡± his mother finished.

    ¡°Y-Yeah. Just like that night,¡± the child stammered.

    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine what kind of weight that is for you.¡± Seamus¡¯ mother nodded, her hand gently brushing through Seamus¡¯ black hair. ¡°But, as scary as it might be, push through it.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°You can¡¯t give up, my son.¡± His mother gently raised his chin, her soft blue eyes comforting Seamus. ¡°Everyone is counting on you.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m not sure if I can,¡± Seamus admitted shamefully.

    ¡°You need to stop doubting yourself,¡± the red-haired woman comforted. ¡°You cannot simply allow yourself to give out at a time like this.¡±

    ¡°What if¡­ What if I fail?¡±

    ¡°All that matters is that you did your best. That you gave it your all.¡± His mother moved to take off her necklace, the golden rose attached to it swinging side to side before she lifted it off. She gently placed it in the child¡¯s hand, her fingers closing over it. ¡°I come from a long line of fighters. Warriors and queens. They all pushed through and gave everything for their beliefs.¡± She looked at Seamus. ¡°You are my son. You have my blood in you. Show them you are not just your father¡¯s son. That your rage is not your only weapon.¡±

    Seamus blinked and saw how his world shifted for a moment. He was an adult now, his dirty and bloodied self sitting across from his mother. She smiled at him, her hand moving to brush some of the soot from his cheek.

    ¡°My poor son. These past months have not been so kind to you, have they?¡±

    ¡°You have no idea,¡± Seamus choked out. He remembered everything he had been through this last year. His capture, his fights, his near-death experiences. It was all so much, so painful. He held back his tears, his right hand moving to cover his eyes. His mother simply brought him into an embrace, her hands caressing his hair.

    Seamus gritted his teeth as tears fell down his cheeks, doing his best not to outright sob. As he embraced his mother, she gently grabbed at his hand.

    ¡°It is almost time for you to go back,¡± his mother whispered. ¡°Your friends are counting on you.¡±

    ¡°Will¡­ Will I ever see you again?¡± Seamus asked as he pulled away.

    ¡°Seamus¡­¡± His mother sighed softly, her eyes welling up with tears as she pressed her left hand onto his forehead. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Before the young man could ask what she meant, he felt something skin to electricity jolt throughout his body; the act blurring the world around him. With no word or knowledge of what happened, the young man was flung out of his dream.

    <hr>

    Seamus gasped awake, his hand grabbing at his chest. He coughed violently in the real world, his lungs feeling like minced meat. Yet his body felt as if he was overflowing with adrenaline. Memories once lost filled his head. Stances, maneuvers, killing blows. It all came back to him somehow. Seamus quickly turned over onto his hands and knees, spitting out any blood that had collected in his mouth. Sounds of fighting soon caught his attention, prompting the young man to turn his head to the action.

    Haggard was struggling to avoid death, his hammer swinging to break any mist formed spear that came his way. Nathan was currently holding onto several golden threads, all of them connected to Eli¡¯s left arm. The beholder user was trying to take both of them out, but his single eye was clearly straining to its limit. The mist was growing weaker and slower, every attack from the marauder only scraping or grazing against Haggard.

    Still, it didn¡¯t mean that the drifter was any closer to winning. Haggard was bleeding profusely, his chest stained in red while his beard dripped with blood. Every swing of the hammer, every sidestep he took, it all contributed to speeding up his demise. He wasn¡¯t going to last long.

    ¡®They won¡¯t be able to win. I need to finish this!¡¯

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Seamus struggled to stand, his teeth clenching tightly as he forced his legs to move. ¡°Fucking work will you!¡± He cursed at them. Once he was finally topside, Seamus took a glance at where he had last seen Falrick. To his surprise, the old Wizard was still alive, even if only barely. Falrick was resting nearby, his left hand tying up a makeshift tourniquet around his severed arm. The Wizard had just finished tightening it when he noticed Seamus.

    ¡°Seamus? You¡¯re alive!¡± Falrick sounded relieved and joyous, despite the grim situation.

    ¡°Can you still cast Carapace?¡± Seamus asked in return, ignoring the Wizard¡¯s worries. They had bigger problems.

    Falrick blinked, but did not protest. ¡°As long as all five fingers are working, I can cast anything.¡±

    ¡°Good! Cast it on me now!¡± Seamus wanted to waste as little time as possible. He reached into his armor, his hand pulling out the vitality potion Haggard gave to him. Despite his current rush of adrenaline, Seamus could still feel the poison run its course in his body. His chest felt like it was being crushed, and his muscles were already failing. While the potion helped to restore muscle control and strength, it would also speed up his decay.

    He hesitated for a moment. Was it worth it? Killing himself just for a chance to restore the ley lines? The young man shook his head and threw those cowardly thoughts away. He wasn¡¯t the terrified coward from last year. He would not hide and wait for his instincts to save him. Eli was going to kill his friends and doom this city to the same fate as his clan.

    ¡®I have to kill him. To save Vindis. To save my friends! No matter what!¡¯

    Seamus tore the wax seal off the potion with his teeth before finally downing it all in one go. His muscles tensed up and the surge of adrenaline from before doubled in strength.

    ¡°Carapace!¡± Falrick¡¯s casting was his cue.

    Just as the taste of berries accented his tongue, Seamus rushed ahead. He gripped onto his sword¡¯s hilt tightly, his gaze focused on Eli. The marauder seemed to notice Seamus coming for the killing blow, his beholder eye widening with rage. Spears flew at the young man, whizzing through the air as they aimed for his chest. They all moved considerably slower than last time, whether from Eli¡¯s exhaustion or the result of his only eye.

    Regardless of reason, Seamus saw it all coming, his legs pushing him even faster. Just like before, he dodged them one by one, jumping and sidestepping each of them. In no time, Seamus was closing in on the marauder.

    ¡°I¡¯m not giving you another eye!¡± Eli shouted. He suddenly stomped on the ground, his casting sending a shockwave through the chamber. It knocked everyone back, including Nathan and Haggard. Seamus himself was sent flying. Yet he never fell back down.

    ¡®This¡­ This is impossible,¡¯

    Seamus was floating now, his body rising into the air, along with pieces of destroyed roof and debris. Even Nathan and Haggard were floating, their bodies much closer to the ground. Eli had cast some kind of gravity spell to keep everyone suspended. The cursed spellcaster was still on the ground, his gaze glowing brightly as he sent more spears to Seamus. The young man held himself together, his thoughts going back to certain memories.

    ¡®Breathe. Control your balance.¡¯

    Seamus took a deep breath and shifted his body around in time, barely avoiding the spears. The sudden movements were enough to strain his body, making him cough up more blood. His body was growing weaker and his adrenaline was fading.

    ¡®Hurry and finish this.¡¯

    Seamus quickly looked for any way to move. He got his answer in the form of the floating debris around. Without wasting time, Seamus pressed his weight against the large pieces of wreckage, his legs propelling him to Eli. He hopped on each piece of roof and furniture, gaining speed.

    ¡°Damn you! Why can¡¯t you fucking die!?¡± Eli sent more spears, all of them missing Seamus, who dodged most of them. A few still grazed and struck at his shoulders and legs, injuring him even more and impeding his movements.

    One mist spear managed to strike Seamus at the left side of his head, slicing through his scalp and forehead. Blood speckled and partially tinted his vision red as a result. Still, despite the pain and hindrance, Seamus didn¡¯t stop. He needed to keep his focus on the threat. He couldn¡¯t afford to slow down. Not here.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see if you can still dodge while falling!¡± Eli screamed as he slammed both his hands on the ground, dispelling the gravity spell he had put in place. Seamus felt his weight return just as he pushed off a piece of debris. He was falling now, his position right above Eli. The beholder user was propped up on his mist, his hands swiping to send more spears towards the young man.

    The world around Seamus slowed to a crawl then and there. He was falling towards the barrage of spears, all of them forming a spiral as they closed in on him.

    ¡®Focus. Find the opening, Seamus.¡¯

    He could hear his mother¡¯s voice call out to him from a distant memory. A memory that had him training to hit weak points.

    ¡®Thread the needle and find the point.¡¯

    Seamus held his breath as he prepared himself. He was close enough to see how the spellcaster¡¯s lone eye burned with constraint, its pupil bleeding as it formed spell runes. The young man focused in past the small opening between the spears, his eyes spotting the weak point.

    ¡°Flash Strike.¡±

    Seamus felt his body use up the last of its energy, his ley lines burning as they enhanced his body. One moment, he was about to be stabbed by multiple spears. The next, Seamus had rushed past all the mist, his gaze locked with Eli. Both men stared at each other, the world around them stopping right then and there.

    Seamus saw what his expression was at that moment. Eli¡¯s single eye displayed his reflection, showing the young man a side of himself he had never seen before. Seamus looked like hell, dark blood staining most of his body, his left eye even tinted with red. He was visibly angry, his expression filled with contempt and determination. His teeth were clenched and his brow was narrowed and furrowed. It was a primal emotion, one that had come out unexpectedly.

    Eli was different, however. The marauder had a distinct expression to him, one that Seamus had never seen from him. Yet the young Halvorson was very familiar with the emotion Eli was conveying. His lone eye was wide, his mouth agape with despair. His hands looked as if he was attempting to guide the mist to him, their erratic positions suggesting that he was getting desperate.

    Seamus could see that Eli was afraid.

    His sword flashed in that moment of clarity, its edge slicing through the marauder¡¯s exposed neck like a hot iron through butter. The surrounding mist dispersed immediately following the strike, sending both men to the ground. Seamus¡¯ body collided with the floor hard, every muscle of his refusing to move anymore. He had reached his end.

    Nathan and Haggard hurried to wobble over to him, their voices inaudible. Seamus couldn¡¯t be bothered to pay attention to them. His gaze instead moved to the sky, which thundered and poured. The rain felt good on his skin. Much better than he expected.

    ¡®I did it. Huh.¡¯

    Seamus Halvorson felt some bit of pride in himself, the feeling lasting up until he finally lost consciousness.

    <hr>

    Faust awoke on the grass, each verdant blade ticking his back as he laid upon the ground. The Centurion sat up slowly, his gaze moving to his surroundings. Just a moment ago, he had been in James¡¯ mind, watching as the young man fought against Arthur. It was only after the man had struck him with that sword that Faust was ripped away into this world.

    ¡°Faust!¡± a distant voice called out.

    Faust turned around, only to see Dasius alive and well. Not just him, but Diane as well. Behind both of them were more people. Soldiers, comrades, shield brothers, good friends. They were all part of the Centurion¡¯s life, right before the man had died.

    ¡°What¡­ What are you all doing here?¡± Faust asked as he stood.

    ¡°Waiting for you.¡± The legionnaire smiled. ¡°Come on, let us go.¡±

    ¡°Go? Go where?¡± Faust would get no answer, as they all moved to walk off to the distance, to the green hills of their homeland. The Centurion took a step forward, only to find his feet stuck for some reason. He looked down, his eyes widening in horror as a black essence consumed his feet. He tried to get free, but the oily substance seemed to pull him further back.

    ¡°Faust Desimir,¡± a cacophony of voices called out to him. They sounded desperate, yet void of any actual emotion. Faust could only attribute it to one source.

    ¡°No! Get away!¡± Faust shouted. He had no desire to be consumed by that hivemind. No, he¡¯d rather be forced into an eternity in Helheim rather than live in a rotting corpse with that abomination. Faust tried his hardest to fight back, only to have more of the black essence grab at his hands and neck.

    ¡°You have much to do before you rest, Desimir,¡± the voices called out. ¡°James needs you¡­ and so do we.¡±

    Faust stopped his struggle, his eyes widening.

    ¡°James¡­? What are you¡­?¡±

    ¡°As of now, we are not your enemy. For the moment, we are all brothers. Desperate to survive.¡±

    The Centurion was stunned speechless. He couldn¡¯t even fight back anymore. Not when his body was being consumed by the black essence that surrounded him. Faust could only watch as it all dragged him back, away from the image of his family. The only family he had ever known.

    <hr>

    James blinked. He was standing in his mindscape. At least, that¡¯s what it reminded him of. Instead of the creeping oblivion and mist, he was instead in a blank white void, the water around his ankles crystal clear compared to the black waters he was used to.

    ¡°Is this Helheim?¡± He asked aloud. He had heard about this world¡¯s afterlife, which was supposed to be freezing cold and described as a greenish cauldron of souls. It looked much more heavenly than he expected. The young man took a couple of steps around, his gaze scanning it all.

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± a familiar voice called out.

    James turned to the source in confusion. His heart dropped at the sight of Gryff. The knight was still in the armor he had on the day he died. Yet there were no visible dents or scratches on it. He looked untouched, exactly the way he was before that fateful battle. Yet James could sense animosity coming from the knight, his aura almost bordering on resentfulness.

    ¡°You,¡± James muttered. He could feel his stomach twisting with anxiety and guilt. He even looked around the mindscape, almost expecting to see more people show up.

    ¡°Relax, this isn¡¯t that kind of intervention,¡± Gryff laughed dryly. ¡°It¡¯s not like the gods of this world care enough to force you to face your sins. Not even Delphine is so caring.¡±

    ¡°What is this?¡± James asked.

    Gryff shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not even sure myself,¡± he admitted. The knight¡¯s smile dropped slowly, his piercing blue eyes burning their gaze into James. ¡°All I know is that you and I are here now. Alone in this empty hell.¡±

    James took a step back, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword. His fingers brushed against nothing, and James realized he had nothing to defend himself with. Neither did Gryff, but James doubted that would stop the knight.

    There was an air of silence and intensity in the mindscape, with both men staring at each other. With the way Gryff was staring at James, it felt as if the knight was pondering when to pounce. James felt far from in control.

    ¡°Heh,¡± the knight scoffed. ¡°It looks as if your time¡¯s not up. At least, not yet.¡±

    ¡°What are¨C?¡± James was interrupted when what looked like black ink invaded the surrounding waters. Black mist wrapped itself around his legs and arms, pulling him away from the knight before him.

    ¡°Shame, really. I was looking forward to making you suffer,¡± Gryff sighed disappointedly. ¡°Regardless, do not expect this to be the last time we see each other.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± James asked, his chest tightening at the implication. He tried to pull away from the mist but only made himself trip onto the ground. The mist wrapped around his chest and neck, wrenching him away.

    ¡°Gryff?! What are you talking about?!¡±

    Gryff watched with a smile, his hand giving a small wave.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, kvitravn.¡±

    James felt his heart drop at the last word, his mouth opening to say something. Yet the black tendrils pulled him far from the blank white mindscape. Gryff disappeared from sight soon after, the darkness being the only thing James could see. He tried to break free from it all, to no avail.

    ¡°What is happening?! Where am I?!¡± James shouted out.

    ¡°This is not your end, James Holter,¡± a sinister, familiar collection of voices called out. James felt dread fill him as he instantly recognized the collective hive mind of the abominations.

    ¡°Do not fret. We are simply restoring the bond between you and Faust Desimir. You are what remains of our influence. If you die¡­ We all do.¡±

    ¡°Let me go!¡± James called out. ¡°I don¡¯t want any part of you!¡±

    ¡°Quit struggling and accept our gift,¡± the voices muttered in anger. Their black tendrils caressed at James¡¯ body, almost sensually, before they viscerally pierced his torso. ¡°Revel in the raw strength of this world¡¯s ley lines.¡±

    With no warning, James was hit with some kind of electrical current, enough to make him seize up. It flowed throughout his own ley lines, filling him with a power he did not know existed. Piercing pain soon followed, stabbing his body with what felt like a thousand hot needles. James couldn¡¯t help but let out an agonizing scream, his body becoming one with whatever dark magic was coursing through him.

 B.3 Chapter 52: Deathwalker

    ¡°Minor Heal.¡±

    Arthur muttered his casting. His formed fingers glowed a soft light as they cast the healing spell, its magic mending his shoulder. The Ice Lance thrown by Holter earlier had nearly ripped his tendons apart, the cold ice nearly freezing his muscles over. Thankfully, the young man¡¯s cryomancy was novice to say the best. Had it been an experienced cryomancer¡­

    The Outlander shook his head. It wouldn¡¯t do good to think about what could¡¯ve been. In short, James was taken care of. Now, all Arthur had to worry about was that marauder Deimos. The chieftain was currently being swarmed by the Outlander¡¯s group of knights, but even he knew it wouldn¡¯t do much outside of annoying Deimos. No, Arthur needed to finish this.

    Just as he was about to make his way to the chieftain, Arthur felt the temperature around him change. While it was already cold from the constant raining, it now felt much closer to freezing. The apostle shivered and looked around.

    It wasn¡¯t raining anymore. In fact, it was actually snowing. Arthur turned around to where the source of the cold was coming from. To his surprise, it was coming from the hole in the platform. The same one he kicked Holter down.

    The water that was visible through the destroyed ground was frozen solid, with more snow piling onto it. Frost slowly crept around the hole, its reach growing by the second. Arthur took a step away from the source, his hands gripping tightly to his sword.

    ¡°Impossible. Delphine¡¯s blessing should¡¯ve kept his corpse dead. What is happening?¡± The Outlander didn¡¯t want to admit it, but he was getting nervous. Delphine¡¯s blessing was more than powerful to keep the dead dead. It was her holy magic, a fundamental law that could not be broken. Arthur knew this from experience. Yet, from what he was seeing, that was no longer the case.

    Before he knew it, the ice broke open. An arm reached out of the black waters, the torn bandages revealing shriveled and blackened skin. It latched onto the burnt platform, creeping frost forming from its touch. Followed immediately after was Holter himself, who slowly crawled out of the broken ice. The right half of his body was glowing, the brightness of it showcasing the bones of his arm and shoulder, as well as his own skull.

    James struggled to stand up straight, his mouth opened to a silent scream. His eyes were like burning coals, their flame bordering on blue and teal rather than yellowish embers. His gaze wandered up to Arthur, his body tensing up at the sight.

    Both Outlanders made eye contact, the world around them stopping at that moment.

    ¡°What¡­ What the hell are you?!¡± Arthur cursed out loud. Never in his life did he see such power. Something that could defy even the light goddess¡¯ will. The man before him was not an Earthling. Not like himself. He was something else entirely. Something far more sinister.

    ¡°Summon Ice!¡±

    Without explaining himself, James¡¯ left arm shot forward spikes of ice, all of them heading towards Arthur in surprising speed. The Outlander quickly dodged to the side, avoiding becoming impaled.

    ¡°Fuck it! It doesn¡¯t matter how many times you revive yourself! I¡¯ll kill you as many times as it takes!¡± Arthur rushed towards James, his sword raising for a strike. He swung his enchanted blade at the younger man, who was still casting his spell. There was suddenly the sound of metal making contact and the telltale shower of sparks. James¡¯ right arm had unsheathed his backup sword, blocking Arthur¡¯s attack in record speed.

    ¡°You¡¯re not the only master swordsman here,¡± James muttered. He pulled back quickly, his right arm flashing towards Arthur. The Outlander blocked the strike just in time, his eyes widening at the newfound speed James had. It was as if his fighting style had completely changed.

    Arthur stumbled back from the clash, his left hand raising towards James. ¡°Needle Shot!¡± His formed fingers glowed and shot forth his spell, sending the needle projectile towards James. The other man quickly sidestepped, avoiding the spell by a few inches. Arthur used this small window to rush again, his voice calling out one more casting. ¡°Power Strike!¡±

    ¡°Summon Ice!¡± James shouted back almost immediately. His left arm cast the ice with speed, forming a quick barrier between him and Arthur. As a result, the Power Strike only hit ice instead of flesh.

    ¡®That spell shouldn¡¯t be forming ice this quickly nor strongly. It¡¯s almost as if his ley lines are overcharged.¡¯

    Arthur backed away, just in time to avoid more ice spikes. He prepared himself, almost expecting a follow up attack.

    Instead, James just stood there, his gaze burning into Arthur¡¯s retinas.

    ¡®So¡­ this is the true Draugr of the South,¡¯ Arthur grimly thought. He squeezed his weapon¡¯s hilt even tighter, his feet positioning himself in a proper stance. Yet James simply stood there, his form relaxed as he took a few slow steps towards the Outlander.

    Every step he took brought even more frost and ice to his surroundings, almost as if he was an ice lich. He stopped halfway through his walk, his right hand positioning his short sword into an interesting pose, one that Arthur did not recognize. Without any words, the Draugr rushed forward, his weapon clashing with the apostle¡¯s.

    <hr>

    Dahlia couldn¡¯t believe it. Hel, she couldn¡¯t even fathom it. James was alive again. Not only that, but he had gotten some sort of boost of strength. The otherworldly man was casting ice spells like a class four cryomancer, his left arm quickly forming ice with no input from runes.

    ¡°What¡­ What is this?¡± Elaine asked in a shaky breath.

    ¡°This next level!¡± Malik suddenly shouted. The necromancer stepped forward, his grin wide and his eyes sparkling with interest. ¡°He¡¯s alive! He¡¯s fucking alive!¡±

    ¡°But how?!¡± a guardsman asked nearby. He and the others in Dahlia¡¯s group were watching in amazement and horror.

    ¡°That¡¯s what¡¯s got me excited!¡± Malik laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t know how!¡±

    Dahlia herself did not know what caused James¡¯ resurrection. Still, it didn¡¯t mean this wasn¡¯t all familiar to her.

    ¡®It¡¯s just like that day. Back when I brought him back.¡¯

    Dahlia saw how James¡¯ eyes and right arm flared with energy, the wild and untethered nature of it reminiscent of when he and Faust first fused together. Yet now it looked as if the blond man had a hold on it.

    Something else caught her eye and the shaman couldn¡¯t help but pull her eyes away to look up at it. The rain had stopped in favor of snow, the flakes of ice falling around the courtyard. Not only that, but the cloud above had parted in a perfect circle above James. Instead of the crimson moons, however, there was instead something much more peculiar. Waves of multicolor lights lit up the sky, their glow ranging from greenish to blue. They overshadowed the moons, lighting up the spectacle of the city with their glow.

    ¡°There are lights,¡± Dahlia revealed, her hand slowly gesturing to them.

    ¡°Oh, gods.¡± Elaine took a step back, her eyes widening at the sight of them.

    ¡°Do you know what they are?¡± The shaman asked.

    ¡°Do you not?¡± The bard looked at Dahlia with a look of surprise. ¡°This is the effect of multiple scryings, from all over Valenfrost.¡±

    ¡°Scryings? Aren¡¯t they supposed to be invisible to the naked eye?¡± Dahlia questioned.

    ¡°Not when a certain number of people are looking,¡± Malik spoke up. ¡°Right now we are all being watched by Wizards, Lumen scribes, deities, and gods.¡±

    ¡°Gods?¡± Dahlia felt her heart drop.

    ¡°This is a once in a lifetime event¡­ One that bodes something far more important than what the moons display,¡± Elaine explained. ¡°The last time this happened, Yorn had killed his father Kjor in a duel. Not even his death had this many spectators.¡±

    ¡°Wait, why is this happening now, then?¡± A guardsman asked.

    ¡°Because James defied a goddess¡¯ blessing!¡± Malik revealed. ¡°He broke Delphine¡¯s seal! A feat that has not been repeated in centuries!¡±

    ¡°Defied,¡± Dahlia muttered to herself. The power to do that was near impossible. If James really did manage to do that, and resurrect himself in the process, then it meant he had drawn the strength from the ley lines. While the idea was insane, there was nothing else she could think of. It also meant¡­

    ¡°The ley lines are connected to the city again!¡± Dahlia turned away from the fight in front of her, her gaze focusing on the totem in the tower. Just as she thought, the runes on the alarm totem were glowing, their blue light slowly illuminating the interior of the tower.

    ¡°Horus¡¯ mercy! They are!¡± the artificer gnome shouted. She broke away from her staring and ran to the totem, her fingers rubbing over the runes. Dahlia could see how half the carvings were dead, their magic not working.

    ¡°I¡¯ll help!¡± The shaman rushed forward, her hands reaching into her satchel. She quickly brought out her salt and soapstone, ready to help the gnome restore the alarm system to Vindis.

    <hr>

    James was slowly getting used to his current situation, his focus settling in on controlling himself. This was just a drop of the raw power from Azura¡¯s ley lines and yet, it was overwhelming. His ley lines overflowed and fluctuated, to the point where his joints ached and his blood boiled. If he wasn¡¯t constantly casting spells and allowing Faust to use his right side, James was sure that the power would¡¯ve burst his ley lines out of sheer overcapacity¡ªnot unlike what happened to Gryff.

    He also radiated heat like a melting reactor, every swing and casting threatening to bring on heatstroke. Even with the ice covering half of his body, he wasn¡¯t certain if it kept him fully cooled down. For now, it would have to do.

    ¡°Carapace!¡± James could feel his casting working its magic, his overcharged ley lines gladly tanking the cost.

    ¡®Five minutes. That¡¯s how long our state will last,¡¯ James reminded himself and Faust. The abominable hive mind told them this already. ¡®After that, we¡¯ll be without reserves or magic.¡¯ He looked over at Arthur, who was currently circling the Jarl.

    ¡®This needs to end now,¡¯ Faust muttered. ¡®While he¡¯s at a disadvantage, that man still wields Delphine¡¯s blessed sword. If we lose this, there are no more chances.¡¯

    James mentally acknowledged the Centurion. ¡®Then let¡¯s show him everything we got!¡¯

    With that, the Draugr ran towards Arthur, his short sword flashing towards the apostle. Arthur raised his longsword, blocking the strike with the corner of his sword, where the blade met the guard. He twisted it around, his sword¡¯s point thrusting towards James¡¯ chest. Faust reacted, his right arm letting go of the sword so he could properly dodge the attack. As they moved to the side, James grabbed the short sword¡¯s handle with his left, quickly using it to slash at the apostle.

    Both man and spirit worked in synch, their thoughts lightning fast as they moved around Arthur. Faust threw a right fist at Arthur, his knuckles ringing out the man¡¯s helmet. James used his left to bring up his short sword again, using it to block another swipe from Arthur¡¯s longsword. Right after the clash, he let go of the sword¡¯s handle, allowing Faust to grab it once more.

    The Centurion bashed the pommel against Arthur¡¯s helmet, making a dent in the steel and stunning the apostle in the process. James kicked Arthur right after, his steel toe boot striking the man¡¯s breastplate. The apostle stumbled back, but did not fall.

    ¡°Alright, enough!¡± Arthur boomed. He raised his sword and came at James once again. ¡°Precision Strike!¡±

    ¡°Summon Ice!¡±

    James stepped back, his left hand summoning another barrier of ice to block the attack. Streams of steam flowed from his body as the ice grew around his left side, frost forming and instantly bursting into vapor from the sheer heat he radiated. Despite this, the ice barrier he summoned was enormous. It grew easily to seven feet, blocking off Arthur fully.

    Yet even that wasn¡¯t enough. Not even a second after its summoning, the apostle¡¯s sword broke through the barrier like a needle, its blue tinged tip aimed for James¡¯ heart. Faust reacted quickly, using the short sword to deflect the strike.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡± Faust¡¯s voice came through James¡¯ mouth like a megaphone, casting the strike right as both blades made contact. The Power Strike was enough to stray Arthur¡¯s sword off course, causing the blade to merely nick at James¡¯ Carapace spell. Still, it was far from over.

    ¡°Burn!¡± Arthur¡¯s voice called out with magical weight, his spell quickly breaking the ice barrier James had formed. The Jarl backed away, his face hit with a different kind of heat. Flames flickered around the apostle, melting the snow and ice around. Arthur formed another rune with his hand, this one aiming right for James.

    ¡°Arcane Bolt!¡±

    ¡°Ice Lance!¡±

    James shot back with one of his own, his left hand forming the rune. His lance of ice shot forth with speed, its trajectory colliding with the Arcane Bolt. The collision of both spells caused an explosion of frost and smoke, creating an impromptu smoke blanket between both men. James used this chance to rush, his left hand forming another rune.

    ¡°Summon Ice!¡± James felt his ley lines react quickly, his left arm summoning frost around his fingertips. He thought of his object just as he broke through the sparkling smoke, his left arm raising the forming bits of ice around his skin.

    Just as he expected, Arthur was already mid-swing, his sword coming down on James with speed. Still, the Draugr was faster. He raised his makeshift ice shield, blocking the longsword before it could make contact. His Carapace strained itself, the scent of blackberries overpowering his senses as the ice shield cracked and shuddered under the weight of the strike. Thankfully, it held.

    Faust thrusted forth the short sword, its tip aimed for the space underneath Arthur¡¯s armpit. Contact. The blade sank into the gap between Arthur¡¯s steel plates, causing the older man to wince and stumble away. James ripped the weapon out, watching as the Outlander stumbled. He rushed forward, his short sword flashing at the older man once more. Arthur blocked it barely, his glowing sword brightening as it held off the short blade. James pulled back, avoiding the older man¡¯s counter attack.

    ¡°You would doom this world?!¡± Arthur yelled as he swung again. James quickly dodged, his body reacting in lightning speed. ¡°Leave its ley lines in perpetual fracture?!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll find another way to fix it! My way!¡± James shouted back as Faust struck Arthur¡¯s steel breastplate. He had missed the gap.

    Arthur quickly flashed forward, his sword swinging down on the Jarl. James barely had time to block it.

    ¡°We do not belong here!¡± Arthur shouted as his blade contested with James. ¡°This is not our world!¡±

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s not yours!¡± James struggled as he spoke. ¡°But it is mine!¡± He screamed with effort as he fended off the broadsword. Arthur stumbled in response, the wound at his side taking a physical toll. James moved in quickly, dead set on finishing this.

    Arthur tried to retaliate, to fight off James, but Faust was faster. The Centurion kicked the apostle¡¯s hand, audibly breaking the wrist and sending the blessed blade to the ground.

    ¡°Agh!¡± Arthur yelled out in agony. He tried to fight back still, his injured hand reaching for a dagger on his belt. James quickly countered, his left hand gripping on Arthur¡¯s right. Using his cryomancy, he froze the Outlander¡¯s hand, drawing out another yell from him. Faust¡¯s attack came in right after, his short sword flying towards the apostle¡¯s chest.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Arthur still wasn¡¯t ready to lose, as his left hand gripped onto the short sword¡¯s blade. His hand bled as it attempted to keep the point away from his chest.

    ¡°Adrenal¡­Surge!¡± Arthur managed out, his body visibly tensing as he slowly pushed the sword away. James kept his weight against the sword, his jaw clenching as he strained.

    ¡°Power Strike!!¡±

    Both James and Faust screamed out the casting, their voices doubling over each other. The spell bolstered, making the sword burn even brighter as it pushed past Arthur¡¯s hand. James felt his muscles strain to their very limit, his body¡¯s core emitting heat like a nuclear reactor. All the ice around his body burst instantly into steam, clouds of vapor streaming from his body like trails of smoke.

    With a scream of effort, the otherworldly man shoved his weight and strength into the pommel, his blade thrusting forth into the Outlander before him. The short sword ran through Arthur effortlessly, only stopping when its guard slammed against disenchanted steel with a heavy ting. The resulting wound faceted blood all over James¡¯ hands, the red crimson staining his bandages and armor.

    There was a moment of silence between the two men, the only sound being that of their heavy breathing. James quickly grabbed at the other man¡¯s shoulder with his blackened left hand, preventing him from falling back.

    ¡°You¡­ You bastard¡­¡± Arthur gasped out. He weakly grabbed at James¡¯ fur collar, blood staining his teeth as he spoke. ¡°You fucking bastard¡­ Do you know what you¡¯ve done? What you¡¯re doing?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m protecting my people and my clan,¡± James answered as he stared back at the older man. He pulled Arthur closer, forcing himself to exert more heat from his skull. James could see himself in the other man¡¯s eyes. A hellish draugr, one whose skull was alight with blue flames. ¡°When you see Delphine, tell her I¡¯m never going to forgive her for what she¡¯s done. That her influence isn¡¯t welcome in Valenfrost anymore. Neither are any of her fucking lapdogs.¡±

    Arthur simply chuckled at the threat.

    ¡°Out of all the fellow Earthlings I¡¯ve met in this world¡­ You¡¯re the only one that acts like he belongs here,¡± Arthur muttered, his gray beard dripping with blood. ¡°Careful with that. It might just come back to bite you in the ass.¡± The old man gave one more stifled laugh right before he coughed again. James watched as the Outlander¡¯s coughs grew weaker, every one of them bloodier than the last. Before he knew it, he was staring into Arthur¡¯s faded irises, no sign of life visible beneath them.

    James wrenched his sword out of the corpse, allowing it to drop to the ground unceremoniously. He could feel how his body was slowing down, the heat in his skull and right arm fading away. His ley lines were losing their initial burst of strength, now reverting to their old limits. James looked around himself, his gaze scanning the courtyard.

    He stopped when he made eye contact with Deimos.

    The Red Death stood a few meters away, his posture straight and his weapons at the ready. His armor was chipped and bloodied, with visible wounds and dents in it. There were even a couple of spell impacts on it. His helmet was even dented and nicked, a long scar across his visor. Yet Deimos was still standing, his grin visible beneath his visor. James noted the dead Lumen Knights around the marauder, most of their heads either gone or smashed to bloody pulps.

    ¡°You¡¯re still good to fight?¡± James called out, his right arm raising to wipe the blood from his mouth and nose.

    ¡°More than you know,¡± Deimos chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t let my condition fool you, I can still crush you.¡±

    James took his stance, his feet positioning themselves as he raised his short sword. Deimos hefted his sword and ax, his pose suggesting he was ready. They both locked eyes, their weapons wavering for a moment.

    ¡°Deimos!¡± Just as they were preparing, there was the shout of some woman. James turned to the source, his focus on the armored marauder running up to the chieftain. ¡°We have to retreat now!¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Deimos growled as he turned to the marauder woman.

    ¡°The alarm system has been tripped! Redyr and Olafson ships are on their way here!¡± She explained in a breath.

    ¡°What?! Eli was supposed to have taken care of that!¡±

    ¡°Deimos¡­¡± the marauder raised what looked like a spell crystal, its naturally blue color now a dull gray.

    Deimos¡¯ expression turned from annoyance to pure anger at that moment. He turned to the woman marauder, his voice inaudible from where James was standing. The Jarl could only watch in confusion, his sword lowering slowly. The two marauders conversed for only a few seconds before Deimos shouted.

    ¡°He¡¯s what?!¡± The chieftain¡¯s voice showed James a side of Deimos he had never expected to hear. It was of pure surprise, mixed in with rage and confusion.

    ¡°We have to retreat. Now! We¡¯ve already lost more men than we can afford. Even with you, Cecil, and I, we won¡¯t stand a chance against an armada of clan ships.¡± The marauder did her best to convince Deimos, who simply stood there, no doubt stewing in his own anger. ¡°We can¡¯t enact our goals if we have no men left to fight for us. Let us retreat¡­¡±

    Deimos was silent for a moment, his jaw visibly clenching and unclenching as he contemplated the marauder¡¯s words. He was more than pissed, that much was clear in the way he gripped his weapons. James half-expected the Red Death to charge in regardless, dead set on finishing their feud.

    Instead, the chieftain simply sighed, his tension gone from his body.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Deimos said. He turned to James, who had been watching the entire confrontation. ¡°Another time, Draugr. Shame you cannot fulfill your promise to me from last Frost.¡± Any and all bloodlust the man had was gone, replaced now with disappointment and clear annoyance.

    ¡°Back at you,¡± James responded, doing his best to hold back the urge to lace his words with vitriol. He had no desire to fight Deimos in this state. He simply watched as the Red Death walked off, his marauder companion calling off the rest of their remaining men. As they fell back, orcs and raven marked guardsmen took over the rest of the courtyard, taking Lumen prisoners and assisting with injured allies. Undead conformed around James and the tower at the center, where Malik had gone to earlier.

    James looked up at the sky, watching how the clouds parted to showcase the night sky and what looked like the northern lights. He stared at the lights, almost creeped out at them. It felt like he was being watched by a multitude of eyes, all of them judging as they watched on.

    <hr>

    Eilif couldn¡¯t help chuckle to himself at the sight of the colorful lights. This was something he had never expected, not even when he ran the calculations with his master.

    ¡®Looks as if Myr has found himself quite the representative.¡¯

    Even if the mad god did not summon James, the young man was everything the deity had wanted.

    The immortal hunter watched the courtyard from a distance, his gaze focusing on the Draugr himself. It would be easy to kill him now, to lop his head off and nip the ever-growing bud before it had time to sprout into chaos. Yet Eilif didn¡¯t. Part of the reason was because he had only one job to do here. Get the marauders and Lumen dolts to kill each other. His master had made it clear to the bounty hunter that he was not to do anything more or less.

    Another reason, one that Eilif took personally, was that it would be far too boring. While no longer with the followers, he still had that fondness for the interesting and unpredictable. While James had certainly shaken the hornet¡¯s nest that was Valenfrost, it was too early to tell whether he would be a key player in the future. He had the potential to become someone like Yorn, a great and powerful man. He also had the chance to become nothing more than another frozen corpse.

    ¡°Only time will tell,¡± Eilif chuckled. He took one last look at the otherworldly man before finally slipping into the shadows of the city.

    <hr>

    Gwenyth stared at the distant city of Vindis, her eyes focused on the perfect circle made in the clouds above. There she could see the magnificent glowing lights that represented multiple scryings all happening at once. The elf hadn¡¯t seen something of this magnitude in decades.

    She looked around at the longship she had stolen from the east harbor. The surviving Lumen soldiers and spellcasters were all staring at the sight, their expressions all mixed with horror and admiration.

    Everyone knew that there would be only one reason those lights appeared. Something historical had happened. A major event that would undoubtedly go down in the journals of hundreds of scribes. Gwenyth didn¡¯t have to scry to know the outcome of the Battle for Vindis. There was no doubt that Holter had won.

    Worst of all, it also meant that the Lumen plot to sink Vindis was now exposed to the world. Jarls, Kings, and even the gods knew about it. As fragmented and disorganized the Valenfrost clans were, there was a good chance that they¡¯d all come together once more. Just as they did back at the beginning of the Outsider War.

    Gwenyth could feel how her stomach twisted at the thought of another major war. One that would ravage the north once more and risk everyone who lived in Valenfrost and Azurvale¡¯s coast. She thought back to Holter and her encounter with him. Her hand went to the spot on her forehead where he grazed her. Back when he saw through her memories. While abrupt, she also had a small glimpse of his own past.

    ¡®He won¡¯t risk war. Even he has some sense in that regard.¡¯

    Holter was still sane when it came to that. Yet the elf couldn¡¯t help but feel even more worried about the otherworldly man. Holter had only been in Azura for nearly a year. In that time alone, he had changed from a clueless Earthling to a dangerous Jarl that dabbled in the dark arts. She was almost terrified of how much he would change in another year¡¯s time.

    ¡°That¡¯s something that we indeed need to look out for,¡± Gwenyth muttered to herself as she watched the floating city grow smaller. As much as she wanted to take action, she needed to be patient and plan her next move. For now, she would return to the Lumen Kingdom and confront that damned council.

    <hr>

    Felix clenched his jaw tightly at the sight of the veteran, his hands balling up into fists.

    ¡°NO! No no no!¡±

    He could hear Kate behind him, the guardswoman¡¯s shouts growing even more desperate as she ran to Harald¡¯s corpse. She grabbed at the dead man, shaking him. It was almost as if she was trying to wake him up.

    ¡°Kate¡­¡± Felix started.

    ¡°You promised! You fucking promised!¡± Kate shouted at the veteran, her voice cracking. Dirk stepped into view, the young guardsmen gently pulling his comrade away.

    ¡°He¡¯s gone, Kate,¡± the young man muttered. Kate initially tried to fight back against Dirk¡¯s hold, but she soon gave in, her arm raising to cover her eyes.

    ¡°You¡­ You promised¡­¡± Kate croaked. She had run out of energy, her body going lax in Dirk¡¯s arms. Felix could see how the much younger guardsman struggled not to cry, his face fighting the urge to let his emotions loose. The other guardsmen around him had more or less the same reactions, all of their gazes staring at where Harald made his last stand.

    Around the veteran¡¯s corpse lay heaps of marauder bodies, most of them charred and dismembered to a degree. The only body that wasn¡¯t touched was that of the herald, William Thatcher. The dead man was mostly unbothered from his resting place, the only mark on him being the wounds from his and Harald¡¯s fight.

    Felix looked down at Harald¡¯s body, his focus on the killing blow. It was strange, seeing someone he knew dead on the ground, their body cold and desecrated. The sight of it all only dug up the pain of Felix¡¯s old friend Thomas. The only guardsman who had stayed with him to fight the marauders during the Siege of Yorktown. Just like his friend, Harald had stayed and fought for what he cared for.

    Yet despite it all, both of them had died.

    ¡°Dammit. Dammit!¡± Felix looked up at the night sky, doing his best to keep it all in.

    ¡®No matter how strong we are. How much we prepare. They keep dying.¡¯

    Was his training for nothing? Was Harald¡¯s strength and prowess not enough? Felix wished he had stayed behind to help Harald. He wished he had the courage to fight alongside him. Just like with Thomas.

    Felix kept staring upward, doing his best to hold back the tears. Yet he could feel them run down his cheeks and into his ears. He still kept his composure throughout it all, his voice calling out to the guardsmen behind him.

    ¡°Whoever is still fit to move, stay with me. Anyone who feels otherwise, go back to the docks.¡±

    He waited for the sound of multiple feet shuffling and moving away from him. Instead, he heard nothing from the guardsmen. The archer turned around to his men, only to see them all composed and ready, despite the redness in their eyes and the hollowness in their expressions. Even Kate was standing, her gaze focused and ready regardless of the grief visible on her face.

    Felix took a deep breath and nodded.

    ¡°Alright. Let us get to gathering our dead.¡±

    <hr>

    Archibald stood at the bridge, the same one he had left to Bjorn earlier that night. Part of him hoped for the dwarf to be alive, to be joyous and victorious in his standoff. Part of him wished that he and Bjorn could share a drink to their victory. The elf reached down to the corpse, his hand gently touching the white raven that was still visible underneath all the grime and dried blood.

    Bjorn still had his grin, bloodied and all, despite his fate. The elf took a deep breath as he stood back up. He looked to the other side of the bridge, where a mound of bodies piled up on each other. They had all died while attempting to cross, as evident from their outstretched hands and weapons. None of them made it past Bjorn, it seemed.

    ¡°You crazy bastard,¡± Archibald muttered softly. He rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, trying his best not to lose himself. ¡°Rest now, my friend.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Come on! Come on!¡±

    Helen struggled as she tried to wake up Lilith. The young woman had been limp for a while now, a result of her fight with Lars. Helen still attempted to wake her, the veteran doing her damndest to keep her alive.

    ¡°You can¡¯t go out like this! Not when I¡¯m still here!¡± Helen pleaded. She looked around her surroundings, looking for anything that could help. Her gaze soon settled on the ripped bag Lars had. There she could see a small gold vial, a red ribbon tied around its lip. Without wasting time, the veteran crawled to the item, her free hand grabbing at it.

    Helen tore the wax seal off as fast as she could, the scent of cherries overpowering her nostrils. She propped Lilith on her lap; her left hand holding her head upright. Helen slowly poured the healing potion into the young woman¡¯s agape mouth, hoping to the gods that it wasn¡¯t too late.

    Once the vial was emptied, Helen could only wait. She watched with anticipation, waiting for Lilith to take a breath. Waiting for her to do anything. The veteran gripped tightly onto the redhead¡¯s hand, her vision slowly getting blurred as she watched.

    ¡°Please. Not like this.¡±

    Lilith was still, no movements coming from her hands. Just as Helen began to lose hope, the young woman¡¯s body twitched. She blinked, unsure if she had hallucinated it. Before she could question her sanity, Helen watched as Lilith¡¯s arms slowly rearranged themselves. The bruises on her body faded a bit, color returning to her pale skin and lips.

    Lilith gasped for air right after that, her eyes fluttering open. Helen couldn¡¯t help but laugh in joy.

    ¡°You crazy idiot! You had me going there for a moment!¡± the veteran exclaimed.

    Instead of celebrating or laughing along, Lilith was quiet. The young woman could only blink in surprise, her gaze moving from Helen to the body of Lars. Helen could see how Lilith¡¯s expression turned from surprise to dread. Tears seemed to overflow the young woman¡¯s eyes, her gaze snapping back to Helen.

    Without warning, Lilith embraced Helen, despite her injured arms. She buried her face into the older woman¡¯s shoulder, her hot tears seeping through Helen¡¯s torn gambeson. Helen was silent. Instead of shoving her away like she should¡¯ve, the older woman couldn¡¯t help but hug back. She didn¡¯t know why. Hel, she wasn¡¯t sure what compelled her to do so. Helen only knew that Lilith needed someone to be there for her.

    The veteran silently comforted the berserker, whose soft sobs were drowned out by the pattering rain.

    <hr>

    Seamus coughed violently from the taste of bitter medicine and herbs. He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze meeting with Nathan¡¯s. The Wizard looked like shit, his clothes singed and bloodied. Bruises covered his face and body, a bloody scar running over his right eye and forehead.

    ¡°I was beginning to think we lost you,¡± Nathan sighed in relief.

    ¡°What¡­ What happened?¡± Seamus asked before he suddenly coughed.

    ¡°Easy. Your body is recovering. Best not to overextend yourself,¡± Nathan muttered. ¡°To answer your question, I had cast a flame cleanse on you before the poison did permanent damage to your body. Even then, your injuries were to where you needed medicine.¡± The Wizard raised the bottle he had in his right hand. ¡°Thankfully for us, we¡¯re in one of the best Wizard shops in Vindis.¡±

    ¡°Is¡­ Is Haggard alright? What about Falrick?¡± Seamus managed out in a whisper.

    ¡°They¡¯re alright,¡± Nathan nodded. ¡°That buffoon Haggard might¡¯ve nearly got himself killed, but his wounds weren¡¯t as bad as we thought. Falrick is healing him now. He¡¯s¡­ still recovering from that lost arm, but he¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°Is Eli¡­?¡± Seamus started. He still wasn¡¯t sure if that beholder user was fully dead. The last year had proven to the young man that not everything could die so easily.

    ¡°He¡¯s dead. For good,¡± Nathan assured him. ¡°That strike you dealt with was more than enough. Where did you learn that, anyway? I never heard of ¡®Flash Strike¡¯.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a physical casting,¡± Seamus winced as he sat up, ¡°Falrick and father trained me to use it but my mother was the one who taught me it.¡± The memory of his training had come back to him during the fight, allowing the young man to use it for his killing blow. He did not know why it came to him so suddenly, but he knew it had something to do with the vision he had of his mother.

    Seamus shook the thought away. His lungs were killing him. He grabbed at the medicine in Nathan¡¯s hand, taking it so he could drink it. Nathan didn¡¯t seem bothered as the young man drank from the bottle. The Wizard only sat there, his gaze looking up at the broken roof.

    Both men sat there in silence, the only sound being the light pattering of whatever rain remained.

    <hr>

    Around Valenfrost, and even in parts of Azurvale and Areno, lay Wizards and spellcasters who looked into their crystal balls. Some had found out about the event through signs of deities, while others were simply told about the blood moons that had appeared in southern Valenfrost. From Jarls in their longhouses to the very Lumen King himself, they had all watched on as James Holter broke Delphine¡¯s seal and killed her apostle in retaliation. Some were amazed by the spectacle, while others were fearful and angry about such power.

    King Gareth was the latter.

    The enraged monarch pounded his fist onto the round table that held his peers, his shout ringing out in the meeting hall.

    ¡°Get me Alistair Cromble and Commander Michaels! Now!¡±

    His men would scurry to do their jobs, leaving the room in a hurry to find the two men.

    <hr>

    Far away from Lumen City, situated in Northern Valenfrost, was the city of Haven. At its center was the castle that held its leader, Frue Margeret of Redyr. The elderly woman had her focus on her Wizard¡¯s crystal ball, watching as Vindis¡¯ courtyard was retaken from the marauders.

    The battle had caught her attention not too long ago, back when the Alarm system of the floating city alerted her court Wizard. Margeret had already sent her ships to assist but it would seem the situation was being handled. The Frue focused in on the young man near its center, his blond hair catching her ire. He was a brutish-looking man, his barbaric armor and blood covered clothes not helping in his image. His gaze was furrowed and his expression was that of exhaustion and disdain.

    Yet Margeret couldn¡¯t help but feel as if she was looking at an image from the past. A vagabond who didn¡¯t belong. A wolf who bared his teeth at those who came too close. A raven who had no real home. He was so similar to him. Yet different in almost every way.

    ¡°Do you know him, my lady?¡± Her Wizard asked.

    ¡°No¡­ but he has a sense of familiarity about him,¡± Margaret muttered as she leaned in. The blond man in the crystal ball stared back at the sky, his blue eyes seemingly watching the Frue. ¡°Send Elias to Vindis. Have him stand in as my ambassador. We shall learn more about this Draugr.¡±

 B.3 Chapter 53: The Raven and The Bear

    Seamus watched as the longboat carrying Harald was sent out into the sea, with flowers ordaining the hull and mast. He could vaguely see the veteran from his position on the high ground, spotting the many bottles of mead surrounding his linen wrapped body. Seamus had to bite his tongue at the sight of Bjorn¡¯s boat following closely with Harald¡¯s. The fallen dwarf had a keg of his special brew to accompany him, along with his favorite shield and ax.

    In due time, other, smaller boats were also sent out with the veteran, their passengers consisting of other ravens who had lost their lives fighting. Seamus watched it all with grim emotion, his gaze moving to the men and women around the gravel shore below. Most were grieving, while others simply watched on in salute.

    Seamus looked around his spot on the small dirt hill, where most of his friends were. James, Dahlia, Helen, and Haggard stood around, their faces solemn as they watched on. The ones who weren¡¯t here were currently being treated for their wounds and injuries during the raid. Others were down on the gravel, watching as their friends and loved ones were sent out.

    After a moment of silence, Felix stepped up onto the hill. He carried with him a long bow, his free hand wielding arrows with their tips wrapped in linen. Everyone stepped aside, watching as the archer drew one arrow back. James stepped up with a torch, setting the tip aflame for the guard captain.

    Felix took a deep breath before he loosed the flaming arrow into the sea. Seamus watched as the glowing projectile struck Harald¡¯s boat, setting it alight as it floated off into the mist. Felix repeated this, loosing another flaming arrow at Bjorn¡¯s boat. The archer kept letting loose arrows into the sea, his accuracy enough to hit all boats.

    Seamus stared at the flaming boats, watching as they all floated off into the distance. He continued to watch, up until the last boat was out of sight.

    <hr>

    James groaned as he situated himself in his chair in the longhouse. He could hear how the townsfolk drank and murmured amongst each other in and out of the meeting hall. Music played out in the courtyard, their lyrics somber but hopeful. This was a common practice in Valenfrost. Celebration after death. It was the reason Bloom and Midsommar had festivals after all.

    Still, James couldn¡¯t bring himself to celebrate and dance with his people. He could only drink from the horn full of mead he had in his hand. Every time he finished it, he would call over one of the nearby people to refill it. They would gladly do it, of course. He was their leader after all and this was a celebration. Yet they didn¡¯t even realize that the blond man was trying to drown out the guilt and grief he felt.

    ¡®James,¡¯ Faust muttered in his head.

    ¡®Quiet. I need to be with myself right now. I¡¯m sorry.¡¯

    James downed another horn of mead, feeling how the honey taste grew more and more sickening. However, no matter how much he drank, the buzz would only last a minute before it went away. It got to where James assumed the drink was watered down. He eventually caved in to his frustration and threw the horn into the firepit before him. The flames rose in response, filling the hall with heat temporarily.

    James sat back in his chair, his gaze on the fire as it reacted to the alcohol.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Seamus¡¯ voice came from his left. James turned to the young man, who was watching him.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine. I just need a moment,¡± James muttered.

    Seamus nodded, but he still approached, eventually sitting down next to the Jarl. ¡°Can¡¯t get drunk, can you?¡± he asked.

    ¡°How did you¡­?¡±

    ¡°My father,¡± Seamus explained. ¡°He could never get drunk unless the alcohol was dwarven made. It had something to do with his metabolism and the number of castings he had. I would expect you to have the same problem, since Faust shares your body.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s never been a problem before,¡± James pointed out. ¡°Back in Bloom, I drank myself into a blackout,¡±

    ¡°Then it means you¡¯re stronger than before,¡± Seamus said. ¡°Your power has increased since then, has it not?¡±

    ¡°I guess,¡± James muttered as he looked down at his hands.

    ¡®Price of power, it seems. Still¡­¡¯

    He clenched them into fists.

    ¡°What¡¯s the point of power if everyone keeps dying around me?¡± He choked out in anger.

    Despite everything. Despite his strength. He couldn¡¯t save his friends. It was the feeling of helplessness he was scared of. It was what he felt back when his parents died. Back when he had to watch both his father and mother wither away slowly. All the while, James could do nothing.

    ¡°You can¡¯t save everyone,¡± Seamus murmured somberly.

    ¡°I know that! I fucking know that! But¡­ But I can¡¯t look back at Vindis without realizing I could¡¯ve done better. I could have had Bjorn stick with me. Maybe even saved Harald instead of going for that fucking apostle!¡± James struck his chest with a fist. He held back his anger and emotions, trying his best not to outright scream. ¡°It¡¯s because of me they died. Because of me, so many others died¡­¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t your fault, James,¡± Seamus leaned forth, his hand resting on the blond man¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m alive, right? Helen, Haggard, Lilith, Archibald, and even Dahlia survived. Most of the guardsmen are still here. The Thieves Guild owes their lives to you, and all of Vindis is still floating. Harald and Bjorn gave their lives for us. They and many others gave their lives so we could succeed.¡±

    James was quiet. He soon looked towards his friend, who sat there with a look that told him everything. Seamus knew what true loss was. The young man had lost his entire family and clan only a year back, the event permanently scarring him and fracturing his mind. Yet Seamus continued forth, managing his grief a step at a time whilst also protecting his only home.

    ¡°Thank you¡­ Seamus,¡± James gave the young man a weak smile. He looked back at the longhouse, where everyone else had been dancing and drinking. Dahlia was the only one not here, as she needed to attend to the wounded back at the infirmary. While the injured numbered in nearly half the remaining guardsmen, they were at least alive.

    ¡°Seamus,¡± James started, deciding to push past the previous topic. ¡°Will you come with me to Vindis tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°Vindis? What for?¡± Seamus blinked in confusion.

    ¡°There¡¯s going to be a meeting there. Between all the Jarls who partly own Vindis as a whole,¡± James explained. He had been called there the day after the raid, mainly to discuss his role in the entire battle. ¡°I need you there.¡±

    ¡°May I ask what for?¡±

    ¡°Negotiations, really.¡± James admitted. ¡°Nothing too dangerous, hopefully.¡±

    Seamus gave a short, dry laugh. ¡°I doubt it. With our luck, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s bound to turn into some kind of brawl.¡± He smiled a little at James. ¡°I¡¯ll come with you. If only to make sure you don¡¯t end up endangering us all.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± James chuckled. He looked back towards the firepit before him, his eyes on the dancing flames. ¡°If everything goes well, we won¡¯t have to worry about a lot of things. Clan disputes included.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a worrying statement,¡± Seamus said with some hesitance.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t be fighting anyone there. Everything will go smoothly,¡± James reassured his friend. ¡°I promise.¡±

    <hr>

    Elias was careful with every step he took, his eyes watching for any holes in the streets of Vindis. All around him were signs of battle, remnants from the raid. While most of the city was still trying to rebuild, there were still stains of blood and marks of flames peppering the surrounding buildings. He had even spotted a Lumen corpse at some point.

    The dwarf ambassador simply pressed on, his focus on the courtyard ahead, where the meeting would take place. This place was the most damaged part of the city. Burnt buildings everywhere and signs of battle scarring the platform. There was even a sizable hole made in the ground, its burnt edges suggesting that a Fireball had been responsible for it.

    Elias turned to the center of the former battleground, his eyes settling on the tower in front of him. He sighed and made his way to the meeting hall. The inside of the tower was surprisingly roomy, a large chamber that had an active totem at its center. He thought nothing of it as he climbed the steps, careful as to not lose his balance due to the lack of railings.

    The dwarf would soon make it to the top, his stubby legs exhausted from the trip. He took a relieved breath as he stepped through the big doors that awaited him. Once Elias stepped through the door, he was greeted with a round table in a spacious room, which was surprisingly dimmer than he expected. Other men sat at the table, impatient as expected. The dwarf was never good at being on time.

    ¡°Redyr¡¯s emissary, right?¡± A voice called out from the far side of the table. Elias squinted at the figure, his eyes catching the shaggy blond hair of the speaker. The dwarf guessed that this was James Holter, the so-called ¡®Draugr of the South¡¯. At his side were three other figures. A woman, a young man with messy bowl shaped hair, and a hooded figure that emitted a dangerous aura.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°Yes, I am the Frue¡¯s speaker,¡± the dwarf answered.

    ¡°Good! Sit down anywhere you like and we¡¯ll get this meeting started.¡± James gestured to the table.

    Elias nodded and situated himself on the chair closest to him, right next to Daven Larsson, emissary of the Serpent Clan, and that asshole Sigfried Vulpesson, heir to the Fox Clan. Once the dwarf was seated, one of the other men spoke up.

    ¡°Why are you acting as if you¡¯re the one who called this meeting?¡± It was Lukas Villtur, Jarl of the Boar Clan. It looked like he was one of the two actual clan leaders to show up. ¡°You are the one who will stand trial for what happened to Vindis, Outlander.¡±

    Elias noted the way Lukas had said that last word. It was clear to the dwarf that the Jarl had a distaste for outsiders, especially ones that were not of this world. James Holter had been outed as such not even a day after his infamous battle, causing strife among clan leaders and Valenfrost nomads. Outlanders were problems. Chaotic forces that were most certainly brought upon by the mad god Myr. It was why nearly everyone here gave James a look of disapproval and hesitation.

    As much as Elias would like to give James the benefit of the doubt, he too had heard of stories of Myr¡¯s chosen bringing nothing but suffering and destruction. Even looking at the Outlander gave the dwarf the creeps.

    James raised an eyebrow at Lukas. ¡°Stand trial? After I saved it?¡± He questioned.

    ¡°Ha! Saved it? You were probably the cause of it all!¡± Lukas argued.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t bring any of those marauders or soldiers here,¡± James shot back. ¡°I only did what you all failed to do.¡±

    ¡°You dare call me incompetent?!¡± The other Jarl slammed his fist on the table in anger.

    ¡°Lukas!¡± a woman at the table shouted at the man, her hand grabbing at his arm. Elias recognized her as the Jarl¡¯s wife, Emma. Recently married into the Boar Clan as a peace offering from the Fox Clan, Emma had been present with Lukas in every diplomatic matter that involved their clan. Elias was almost thankful to Siegfried for agreeing to trade off his sister to such an angry man. She was the only reason Lukas still had diplomatic relations with other clans.

    ¡°James did help save Vindis,¡± Daven commented, his voice right above a murmur. The heir to the Serpent Clan was surprisingly meek today. Elias usually saw him as a charming man who boasted confidence. Now it seemed Daven was smaller and quieter than usual.

    ¡°Does it matter? Our men in the guilds here would have driven them off regardless of the Draugr¡¯s intervention,¡± Siegfried argued.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t the case,¡± Elias finally spoke up. He looked to the Fox Clan¡¯s emissary. ¡°Lady Margeret saw it all happen from her court Wizard¡¯s crystal ball. Vindis was clearly at the mercy of Deimos and the Lumen Kingdom knights. Survivors also witnessed the Raven Clan come to their aid, driving off both sides until the alarm totem sounded off. Our clansmen weren¡¯t enough to hold off such an invasion. If it weren¡¯t for James and his men, Vindis would be at the bottom of the sea¡±

    ¡°I also heard that Holter broke Delphine¡¯s holy seal,¡± Emma commented.

    Everyone stopped at that.

    ¡°He what?¡±

    ¡°That golden bitch¡¯s seal?¡±

    ¡°Impossible!¡±

    Apparently, everyone here outside of Elias and Emma knew nothing of the historical feat. Even Lukas was shocked. Everyone around the table murmured and argued to an extent that no one knew what was being said. It all only stopped once James banged his fist against the table.

    ¡°Enough,¡± he called out. His voice was filled with frustration. The Jarl stood up, his hands going behind his back as he faced the small window that showcased Vindis from above. ¡°I am here to offer a proposition.¡±

    ¡°Proposition?¡± Elias questioned.

    James turned around, a slight smile on his face. ¡°I want a portion of Vindis. Specifically, half of it.¡±

    That seemed to do it. The room exploded into arguments, with Lukas throwing threats as Siegfried cursed in another language. Even Daven was shouting, his meek tone replaced with one of shock and surprise. Elias watched as everyone threw insults and spat out arguments, almost all of them getting out of their seats.

    ¡°What a ridiculous offer!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just as insane as people say!¡±

    ¡°Fucking waste of my time!¡±

    The men, excluding Elias, all headed to the doors, cursing James out as they did so. The young Jarl simply watched, his left hand raising slowly. He snapped his fingers. The two doors behind Elias slammed shut right after, locking everyone inside the room. Lukas turned to James, his face red with anger.

    ¡°What are you¡ª?¡±

    ¡°Sit. Down. Let me explain.¡± James gestured to the table. After some silence, a couple of the men shuffled back to their seats. Only Lukas remained standing. James shrugged, his focus turning to the strange man with the bowl shaped hair. With a slight nod, the younger looking man stood from his seat. He looked at everyone with a nervous look.

    ¡°My name is Seamus Halvorson, son of Yorn,¡± he meekly stated.

    Lukas raised an eyebrow. ¡°Yorn¡¯s son? What kind of joke is this? Yorn¡¯s last son died in the Halvorson raid last year.¡±

    ¡°I am his son,¡± Seamus insisted. The young man reached into his shirt collar, his hand bringing out a small bear shaped pin. It was a Halvorson crest, one that was embroidered with gold. Elias could tell from a distance that it was authentic. Still, the young man didn¡¯t stop there. Using his left hand, he raised the hair on his forehead, revealing the distinct birthmark.

    The leaders and emissaries all went quiet at the sight of it, their focus on the mark. Before anyone could question it, Seamus rubbed at his forehead, proving that it was not drawn.

    ¡°Caelus¡¯ balls, you are his son¡­¡± Elias muttered. It had been many years, but he still remembered the day Yorn had showcased his young child to Margeret. The dwarf was a simple advisor then, but he had been allowed to view the child and its birthmark.

    ¡°I want to give my father¡¯s share of the city to James Holter,¡± Seamus stated.

    ¡°You what? You want to ally yourself with such a small clan?¡± Siegfried asked.

    ¡°The bear does not simply ally themselves with a sly raven,¡± Lukas agreed.

    ¡°This is my choice,¡± Seamus said. ¡°James is my ally, has been since my father¡¯s death. Until the day he dies, I will be at his side.¡±

    ¡°Noble¡­ but stupid,¡± Lukas grumbled.

    ¡°How do you expect us to give you Yorn¡¯s share of the city anyway?¡± Daven asked. ¡°From what I recall, half the city noble council was wiped out in the raid. Papers and deeds were their expertise.¡±

    ¡°No worries, I¡¯ve had my friends take care of it,¡± James gestured for the other two figures to stand. The shaman woman was first to stand, her hands carrying stacks of parchment. She walked around the table, handing them to each of the men in the room.

    ¡°Agreements and terms. Sign them all with your blood and we¡¯ll be finished here,¡± the shaman stated as she handed Elias his stack of parchment.

    ¡°What¡¯s the blood for?¡± The dwarf asked as he flipped through the stack. It was all hastily scribbled terms of agreement, every sentence filled with fancy words and complicated statements.

    ¡°The blood makes the contract binding,¡± the hooded man behind Holter answered with a chuckle.

    ¡°This is ridiculous. Yorn¡¯s share doesn¡¯t even own half of the city,¡± Siegfried complained after he flipped through his copy.

    ¡°Which is why you¡¯re all signing off parts of your share to me,¡± James revealed. His confidence seemed to grind everyone to a halt, the tension in the room growing.

    ¡°What if we don¡¯t?¡± Lukas growled. ¡°You may have killed one of Delphine¡¯s apostles, but you haven¡¯t known the boar¡¯s true strength. Don¡¯t forget, we still own most of this city.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± James¡¯ eyes glinted with a sense of expectation. Elias couldn¡¯t help but stare at the slight glow they emitted. Lukas didn¡¯t seem to care, as he walked his way to the Jarl before him. He only made it two steps before he stopped. The dwarf blinked in surprise at the glint of steel in the dark.

    Lukas suddenly had a knife pressed against his throat, courtesy of the cloaked thief behind him. It was as if the man had manifested from the shadows. Elias himself soon felt cold steel press against the back of his neck, the thief behind him muttering, ¡°Don¡¯t move.¡±

    Everyone had daggers on them, the thieves in the room finally making themselves present.

    ¡°It seems as if you all overestimate the actual power you hold over the city,¡± Holter called out. ¡°Your control only extends to the pompous rich in the gold district and the guards around the docks. Beyond that, the thieves guild runs the city.¡±

    Jarl Holter stepped up to Lukas, who was doing his best to stay still. ¡°I won¡¯t kill you. I don¡¯t want to. I only want what¡¯s best for Valenfrost. I want to unite the south. I can¡¯t do that if you all fight over control of this city like children,¡± James sighed, his head shaking, ¡°Half of the city will be under Raven control. Don¡¯t worry, you can keep most of your guild houses and merchant shops. I won¡¯t deprive you of your income.

    ¡°However, I will be taking over the guardsmen here, as well as bars, docks, and this tower. This is the best deal you will get.¡± The Jarl walked back to his seat, his hand running across the table. ¡°You will not bicker, you will not fight over districts and control, you will simply go on with your lives. The only difference is that half of this city will fly my colors,¡± Holter finished, his gaze turning back to the men. His eyes suddenly blazed with blue, showcasing the skull underneath. Elias almost flinched at the sight.

    ¡°Do we have an understanding?¡± Jarl Holter asked, his voice booming throughout the room. Everyone stared at him, their faces contorted into fear, anger, and awe.

    After a moment of silence, Lukas was the first to speak. ¡°Yes. We have an understanding.¡±

    Holter sighed in relief as he sat back. ¡°Good. Sign.¡±

    With that, each and every person in the room moved to sign their agreements, puncturing their thumbs with knives to get their blood on it. Elias didn¡¯t bother to read it all, eventually signing it early after he had reached a page that was an amalgamation of confusing terms and services. He trusted Holter would at least have some semblance of sanity.

    In the end, Elias watched as the parchments were given to the robed man. Holter walked over to him, his hand brandishing a dagger. With some effort, the blond man sliced his left hand. His blood leaked onto the papers, soaking all of them. The dwarf was at first confused, until the robed man spoke with an ethereal voice.

    ¡°Do you, James Holter, agree to the terms you set for your peers?¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± Holter simply said, right before blue flames engulfed his hand. Elias soon felt a similar heat on his thumb, the cut on it bursting into a flame as well. All the men in the room panicked for a moment, their hands shaking in an attempt to douse the flame. Of course, the dark spell wouldn¡¯t last long, ending after just a few seconds.

    ¡°What was that?!¡± Daven asked.

    ¡°Pact magic,¡± the robed man revealed in a maniacal laugh.

    ¡°It¡¯s a precaution, to make sure none of you conspire or plan against me,¡± Jarl Holter added as he bandaged his wound. ¡°What? You didn¡¯t expect me to take you all on your word, no?¡± He and his allies walked off to the exit, the thieves in the room opening the doors up for him. ¡°Don¡¯t try to find any loopholes, either. Believe me, I¡¯ve made sure the agreements were airtight,¡± Holter muttered as he left.

    Elias only stared at the man as he left.

    ¡®So this is the Draugr of the South. Margaret was right. He is familiar.¡¯

    In just only a day, James Holter had forced the Jarls of the south to fold before him. It was a feat of trickery and force, one that reminded Elias of the days before the Outsider Wars. Back when Jarls were something to be feared.

 B.3 Epilogue (End of Book 3)

    Eilif sat cross-legged in the small cave, a hiding spot he always fell back to whenever he needed to think. The cave also served as a meeting spot between the immortal man and his contacts. Most importantly, it was where he spoke with his master.

    The person-sized spell crystals before him were arranged in a circle, their bluish glow accompanied by silhouettes. Eilif was focused on the one across from him, its shadowy figure shifting in its seat.

    ¡°This outcome was not one I expected,¡± the lead crystal muttered. Eilif was surprised to hear curiosity and slight annoyance in his voice instead of infuriating rage. Then again, his master was always a calm and orderly person. It would take a lot to earn his ire.

    ¡°Eli was never the most capable one,¡± another crystal muttered. Eilif could see the figure¡¯s lone eye boredly examining the cave around. ¡°It was inevitable that he would fall.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± a female voice sighed from Eilif¡¯s left. ¡°However, that young man certainly has my attention,¡± she giggled. The figure in the crystal had a dreamy look in her gaze, her eyes watching the ceiling with wonder.

    ¡°Holter?¡± another crystal displayed his disgust.

    ¡°No! The one who killed Eli,¡± the female voice expressed. ¡°From what I¡¯ve seen, he¡¯s certainly something much more interesting than that boring blond man.¡±

    ¡°Seamus Halvorson,¡± the lead crystal said. ¡°I had expected him to die long ago, back when Deimos raided Yorn¡¯s keep.¡± The master turned to the nearest crystal, the one who had recently displayed his disgust. ¡°You and Eli were supposed to make sure he was killed, along with any of his blood.¡±

    ¡°That was Eli¡¯s job!¡± the crystal argued.

    ¡°It was both of your jobs,¡± the master reiterated. ¡°This has complicated things even further.¡±

    ¡°To be fair,¡± the figure with one eye spoke up. ¡°Holter has already complicated things, Halvorson or not. Where did he come from?¡±

    ¡°Holter is from another world. Earth, I believe it is called,¡± Eilif finally spoke up.

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    ¡°An Outlander,¡± his master confirmed. ¡°One of us has already done some research into this¡­ Draugr.¡±

    Another crystal blinked at that, its glow brightening as the figure inside spoke.

    ¡°James Holter. Twenty-six years old. His home base is Yorktown. He is allied with a clan of monster hunting orcs. Also allied with the clans that hold stakes in Vindis, but that is mostly out of force rather than an actual alliance,¡± the figure listed everything about the Outlander, his voice echoing out in the cave as everyone watched on. ¡°He has cryomancy in his left arm. Can cast up to four spells a day. He has a spirit inside him,¡± the figure turned to Eilif. ¡°A Centurion named Faust Desimir, to be exact.¡±

    Eilif felt his body go stiff at the name. That was one thing he did not know.

    ¡°Centurion? Like one from Cyrus¡¯ Legion?¡± the female figure asked.

    ¡°How?¡± the one-eyed figure asked.

    ¡°From what I gathered, it was implanted into him by Dahlia Astera, a shaman in Yorktown. She did this to save his life and heal his wound. However, it also fractured the ley lines,¡± the figure explained.

    ¡°Faust Desimir¡­¡± Eilif ignored the report, his mind going to the name. It was foreign to him, but rather familiar in a way. His master seemed to notice this.

    ¡°This won¡¯t impact your mission, will it?¡± he asked.

    ¡°No sir,¡± Eilif obediently answered. ¡°It will not.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± his master nodded. ¡°When the new year passes, Eilif and Kira will embark to the south. They shall tie up whatever loose ends Eli and Sirius have caused.¡±

    Kira giggled with delight. ¡°Oh, how fun! Perhaps I shall be able to see him.¡±

    Eilif ignored her, only focused on the lead crystal. ¡°Yes, sir, I shall do my best.¡±

    His master¡¯s purple eyes burned with magical power, his gaze looking down on him. ¡°You shall. This meeting is dismissed.¡± With that, the crystals all went dead, their blue glows dying down in an instant.

    Eilif was now alone, his gaze on his blade. The weapon looked like a strange dagger, its handle more of a grip rather than a blade¡¯s handle. Eilif picked it up, his thumb pressing against a certain area on the guard. The wide blade would split into three, opening up like a fan. The bounty hunter only focused on the sigil that appeared once the contraption functioned. It depicted two olive branches that were crossed beneath a single gladius.

    It was the symbol of the long dead Legion, which had fallen centuries ago.

 B.3 Bonus Chapter

    Iendis gently caressed the blossom in her fingers. Her mind played the images of some man¡¯s future, showcasing a happy life in which he retired and lived on a farm. He would have a family of five, all of whom loved him. This fate bore her. The deity sighed in frustration, her index flicking the blossom away.

    ¡°Going through fates again?¡± Thien spoke up. The boatman was sitting nearby, his spindly hands counting the gold he had collected that week.

    ¡°As if I have anything better to do.¡± Iendis pointed at her body and arms, which were bound by golden chains. They were a courtesy from that golden bitch and that false god, their work enough to imprison the goddess for at least a couple more millennia,

    ¡°Hm, good point,¡± Thien rubbed at his beard in thought. The boatman¡¯s eyes darted to his pile of loot, his fingers sorting the gold and valdora pieces apart. ¡°What about Holter? I thought he already kept you interested?¡± Thien asked.

    ¡°He does,¡± Iendis admitted. ¡°I just don¡¯t want to bore myself by looking through everything that awaits him. It ruins the fun a bit,¡± the goddess sighed as she rested her back against the tree, her gaze turning up at the canopy. She focused on the branch that held James¡¯ fates. It was the one that stood out the most, the wood itself even differing in color compared to other branches. Unnatural twigs branched and twisted into multiple paths, half of them either going black or blossoming into more fates. Not even Naomi¡¯s branch was as chaotic as his.

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    ¡°Thien, where did you find Holter?¡± Iendis asked her brother, who simply lifted his head in confusion.

    ¡°I believe it was you or father who brought him?¡± Thien sounded confused, his beady eyes looking back at Iendis with expectation.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t summon him. Neither did father,¡± Iendis revealed in a murmur. The goddess had lost her ability to bring in Outlanders long ago, the last one she summoned being a useless mortal that had died not even a week into being summoned. That cursed God of Fate was the reason her chains were reinforced. Myr also was out of the question. Her father was strict when it came to involving himself in matters. He was a bystander before all things, not a god who would simply tip the scales out of spite.

    ¡°Someone else is responsible,¡± Iendis realized. It was a trifling matter, one that meant someone else was involving themselves into Myr¡¯s and Delphine¡¯s cold war. Yet, the goddess couldn¡¯t help but grin, her mind racing with realization. Someone else summoned Holter to Azura. Whoever it was, the goddess wasn¡¯t sure. Few people were capable, let alone motivated enough, of bringing an Outlander here. It was something truly mind racking.

    ¡°You don¡¯t believe¡­?¡± Thien started.

    ¡°He¡¯s the only one that comes to mind,¡± Iendis turned up at the tree¡¯s canopy, her focus on an older branch, one that had been around for centuries. It was the longest one, its wood withered and bordering on black. Just looking at it, anyone would assume that this branch was dead and its fates useless.

    ¡°I believed him to be dead, but it looks like he might be returning,¡± Iendis focused on the single pink blossom that had formed on its tip.

    ¡°Dead men do not make new fates.¡±

 Authors Note / The Future

    If you¡¯ve read to this point, congrats! That means a lot to me.

    This is my obligatory author¡¯s note, here to tell you a little about myself and the future of the Valenfrost Saga.

    When I first started writing this story, I never expected myself to reach this point. I know it sounds cliche and pretty stupid considering this isn¡¯t really the best rated thing ever, but you have to understand something about me first. Before this, I would literally never go through with any projects or stories. My old wattpad account is basically a graveyard of old ideas and projects that never made it past 20k words.

    Funnily enough, this entire world is actually based on a one shot story I wrote on that cursed app. The original story was called One Wish, a fantasy story that revolved around a knight and mage venturing out to make a wish at a magical shrine. Along the way, they would gather up a party filled with odd characters and such. Of course, it was horribly written (I was 14 when I wrote this). There was also a lack of world building and nuance.

    Still, it served as a base for the Valenfrost Saga. The original one shot is still ¡®technically¡¯ canon to the saga, albeit without the 8th grade level writing and lore. James¡¯ story takes place about 150 years after the original, allowing me to  make big world changes and such. I¡¯ll definitely go back and rewrite it someday, I really do think that it can work.

    There¡¯s even references to that one shot in the Valenfrost Saga. As you can guess, the wishing shrine mentioned by Lowe and Falrick is the same one from the original story. Leonard Kord is another callback, as he¡¯s an ancestor of the knight character. Gwenyth is actually from the original story, serving as a sorta bridge between both eras.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    More references and callbacks are sprinkled across the saga, but it¡¯ll take me ages to explain every one of them. So I¡¯ll leave the references for myself and any unlucky person who had the misfortune of reading my old stories.

    Black Waters is something that still seems unreal to me. Ever since the first entry to the Valenfrost Saga, I knew the third installment would have to end with a battle for Vindis, the floating city of Valenfrost. I needed to incorporate the other clans and begin the eventual rise of James Holter.

    If you reread the first two entries, you might be able to catch some not-so-subtle foreshadowing hidden in dialogue and exposition. Still, despite the buildup and hints I¡¯ve written in past entries, I¡¯d never actually thought I would have the energy to eventually reach the third entry. To that, I thank my readers and reviewers. Without you, I doubt I¡¯d have the motivation to get here.

    As for the future of this saga, I will continue it.  So much more of Valenfrost to explore and so many threats coming to James Holter and his friends. I¡¯ve already planted seeds for the future in these past entries, so you should have some idea of what¡¯s to come if you read carefully.

    For now, however, I need a small break. I¡¯ve been technically writing non stop for a few years now and I want to take a breather, lest I get creative burnout.

    Still, do not fret. The fourth entry is all laid out and I plan to get to it. I am as excited to write it as you are probably to read it. Give me like a year to rest up and I¡¯ll deliver. Obviously, it¡¯ll be the same procedure as the third entry. I¡¯ll finish it first, rewrite it, and release it here for free.

    In the meantime, I¡¯ll be rewriting all of Frost. It¡¯s pretty clear that  my writing style has evolved to a point where I need to rewrite and refurbish a lot of my early stuff.

    If you want to support me or show me love, please do consider dropping a review or comment. If you want, you can also leave a comment if there¡¯s anything you feel should be changed or redone in my rewrites.

    ¨C with love, Geo <3

 New Year, New Update

    So recently I posted an update and poll regarding the future of this fiction. I had expressed my  grievances and worries about the saga''s growth. I was a little surprised at the comments I got and the votes put in. I wholeheartedly appreciate the comments and kind ratings you guys gave me.

    Not a lot of people voted on the poll, around 12 people at the most did put their input in. Still, I''ll keep my promise and proceed with the winning option. That is, to keep writing and posting, despite the ratings. Book four is still being written, not really close to being finished. Outline is done though, so this shouldn''t take too much time. Still, this year is going to be a busy one. I''m going to be working and touching grass a bunch, which will limit me and my free time. Regardless, I''m still going to go out my way to write and finish this bad boy in 2024.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    To remedy my absence, I will be releasing a lore volume before I eventually post the fourth entry. It''ll catch readers up on info already established plus some new tidbits of lore. Not neccesary reading but it is something that I''ve wanted to do. It''ll come with descriptions of continents, countries, history, maps, and even character bios and portraits. It will also include a recap chapter towards the end that''ll condense everything that happened so far.

    The comment section will also be a sort of a Q/A if you guys want to ask anything. I''ll reply to everyone and answer the best I could. You can ask me whatever, from books stuff to random life questions. I will answer.

    Anyway, time to start the new year writing. I hope you all have a great 2024.

 Mid-Year Update / Teaser Chapter

    <hr>

    Helen rushed up the steep incline, her breathing heavy as she carried her spear and shield. She barely had time to get her gear on when the first explosion rang out. It was only after the sound of thunder that she was on her way.

    Even after only ten minutes passing, Helen was halfway up the mountain. She silently thanked the endurance training she had put herself through these past months. If it weren¡¯t for that, she doubted she¡¯d get this far this fast.

    ¡®Got to get there, now! Who knows what happened!¡¯

    Helen hoped to all the gods that the explosion was just a result of the cursed artifact combusting randomly. Or maybe¡ªhopefully¡ªMalik had finally gotten himself smited by a pissed-off deity. She was hoping for that especially.

    ¡®Or maybe¡­ Maybe he took the artifact himself?¡¯

    Helen shook her head. That was the absolute worst case scenario. A necromancer of his level with something so powerful? Fuck that. Helen had no desire to deal with such a scenario. Then again, it was her job. Her duty. Also, there were guards posted up there. The last thing she wanted was for them to get hurt, or worse, die.

    ¡°Can¡¯t let anything happen to them!¡± Helen panted as she climbed the mountain path, her legs and chest burning with exertion.

    It wasn¡¯t long before Helen finally reached the path¡¯s end, the view of the island¡ªand even Yorktown¡ªclear from this vantage point. She didn¡¯t focus on the view though. The veteran instead shifted her gaze to the entrance that was carved into the mountain.

    Smoke billowed from the narrow passageway, forming a pillar of gray that reached high into the heavens. Helen could spot no one nearby, signifying to her that the guards had either run off or went into the cave. She hoped they weren¡¯t stupid enough to rush in but she knew better.

    Helen had trained these men to never abandon their posts unless it was absolutely necessary. Even though this situation called for them to leave, she knew that these were young naive men that were probably stupid enough to not recognize it as such.

    ¡°Bloom!¡± Helen shouted the code word into the cave, hoping to get some sort of response. None came however. She grew increasingly worried.

    ¡°Bloom, dammit!¡± she called out as she approached the entrance, her spear and shield raised.

    A silhouette suddenly appeared in the dim passageway, the figure physically hunched as it approached the entrance.

    ¡°Horcus! Hor¨Ccough¨CHorcus!¡±

    It was one of the guards, his arm raised to cover his mouth and nose as he stumbled out into the open. Helen lowered her spear as she moved to drag him away.

    ¡°Where¡¯s your partner?¡± she asked.

    ¡°He¨Ccough¨Cwent to get help!¡± the guard managed. ¡°While I¡­ While I went in to help Malik!¡±

    Helen frowned. She didn¡¯t encounter the other guard on her way up here. Then again, it was possible she missed him when she took that shortcut earlier.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Helen asked. ¡°Where¡¯s Malik?¡±

    ¡°We¡­ We were ambushed by¡ª¡±

    Helen felt the world around her stop at that moment. She didn¡¯t even have time to hear what the guard was saying. Instead, her focus went to the sense of danger that was emanating from the passageway. Without thinking, Helen tackled the guard to the ground.

    ¡°Arcane Lance!!¡±

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    A lance of purple energy flew from the passageway, its trajectory flying out into the open air before it exploded into a purple shower of sparks past the cliff¡¯s edge.

    Helen recognized the voice to be Malik¡¯s, which at first made her believe the necromancer to be behind the breach. Before she could even consider defending herself for another incoming lance, however, something emerged from the entrance.

    It was someone else entirely, a young woman, Helen recognized. Her cloak was swept over the right shoulder, revealing her clothes¡ªwhich were clearly kasani in origin¡ªand the forearm-length dagger she held.

    The long knife was a kasani blade, its straight edge polished to a near mirror-like reflection. The woman¡¯s clothes looked to be nothing out of the ordinary, until Helen noticed the silver runes that were stitched into the seams of her tunic, boots, and even her cloak. It was hard to notice but once she saw them, it all made sense.

    This woman was a Kasani assassin. She fit the description almost perfectly. Helen tried to remember the name Tahir had given them the last time she conversed with him.

    ¡®Shinobi.¡¯

    ¡°Night Spray!¡± Malik¡¯s voice boomed with power, his callout followed by a flurry of purple orbs. They all rushed the shinobi, who quickly dodged it all with speed that surprised Helen. She moved with the gracefulness of a dancer while keeping up with the Night Spray casting.

    Malik soon made his appearance, the necromancer rushing out with a small dagger as he tried to stab at the stranger.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Helen shouted a warning as she stood up, her spear and shield raising as she rushed ahead. She caught both of the fighters off-guard, allowing Malik¡¯s Night Spray to finally hit its target.

    Multiple fireflies made contact with the shinobi woman, their magical flames setting her aflame as she tried to dodge them all. At the same time, Helen watched as Malik attempted a stab, his dagger aiming for the young woman¡¯s throat.

    Just as the sharp tip was about to make contact, the intruder disappeared. Vanished. Blinked out of existence. Helen stared dumbfounded at the sudden change, her feet stopping her advance. She watched as Malik was hit with his own fireflies, his robes set aflame.

    ¡°Shit! Freezing Winds!¡± Malik quickly cast a spell, his surroundings being engulfed in a miniature cyclone of snowy winds. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to put out the flames and nearly freeze Helen¡¯s toes off.

    The veteran stopped in place after the sudden change of events, her gaze moving around to search for the intruder.

    ¡°What¡­?¡±

    Right behind her was the panting form of the shinobi, her only eye wide in shock and her left hand on her heaving chest. She looked shakened, her expression more of fear rather than surprise.

    ¡°I¡­ I was hoping not to use that,¡± the young stranger muttered, her free hand clutching the left side of her head. She quickly straightened herself, her head shaking as if to will away a migraine. As she did so, Helen recognized the small cylindrical glass tube that was tucked into her satchel. She had stolen the artifact.

    Helen also got a better view of the perpetrator now that her hood was down. It was a young woman, with short auburn hair that swayed in the breeze. Nearly a third of her head and face was wrapped in white bandages, covering her left eye and upper cheek.

    ¡°Wait, I know you,¡± Helen muttered. This was the same girl she bumped into back in Yorktown. It seemed like her instincts were right to be suspicious of her.

    ¡°Yeah, I was hoping this would go over quietly,¡± the young woman said. She patted down her clothes, almost like she was making sure she still wasn¡¯t on fire. ¡°But you guys made this much harder than it had to be.¡±

    Helen raised her shield, her spear wavering a bit as she contemplated on what to do. Should she negotiate? Attack? She wasn¡¯t sure what the right course would be.

    ¡°Why are you here?¡± was the most obvious question. It had left her lips before she even decided on what to do.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to correct some wrongs,¡± the shinobi answered. ¡°And unfortunately, it seems like your Jarl has done a lot of wrongs.¡±

    Helen was about to refute this, but quickly stopped herself. It would be difficult to even to begin defending her position, especially when she was standing next to a fucking necromancer and fighting for the protection of a demonic artifact that was bound to be worthy of a holy smite.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a long story,¡± Helen muttered.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it is,¡± the young woman sighed. ¡°But unfortunately, I¡¯ve heard more than enough of my fair share of necessary evils. Especially from other Outlanders.¡±

    ¡°So I guess there¡¯s no way to talk this out?¡± Helen asked. She already knew the answer for that question, but it was more or less time until more reinforcements came. Every second counted after all.

    ¡°No,¡± the shinobi said simply, her knife rising. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best not to kill you. No promises.¡±

    With that, the kasani assassin rushed the veteran and necromancer, her speed more than enough to catch both off guard.

 Azura: Continents and Seas

    Introduction

    Not sure why I¡¯m writing this, but Dahlia told me that it¡¯d be good for me to keep busy while I heal. After brainstorming some more, I thought a book like this would be the most helpful. A guide to help any earthlings or otherworlders who find themselves summoned to this place. I¡¯m kind of doubtful Myr or any other god would summon any more after what my summoning did, but if it does ever happen this will be a tremendous help for any stranded earthlings. Especially if I¡¯m not around anymore. Call it leaving a legacy.

    My name is James Holter. A 26 year old guy from earth, summoned to Valenfrost. Been here for around a year, and I¡¯ve already been through so so much. I¡¯ll cover everything I can through chapters and such. This guide isn¡¯t in order so you can sorta jump freely between chapters. Just remember that you might want to read in order if you need context for some things.

    Again, this is from my perspective. I might get some things wrong or incorrect so don¡¯t rely entirely on my info. Regardless, if you have no clue how this world works or who to look out for, then this guide is your only way of survival.

    This is an Earthling''s Guide to Valenfrost. Told by the one guy who managed to make it here for longer than a year.

    <hr>

    Azura: Continents and Seas

    The basics first. The world you have been summoned to is known as Azura. It is to Azurans as Earth is to you and me. While I¡¯m not sure of its scale or natural fauna, it¡¯s very similar to earth. Albeit with monsters, fantastical beasts, and magical beings. Also gods. But I''ll get to all of those later.

    <hr>

    <h2>Continents</h2>

    Azura is made up of four main continents. Azurvale, Kasan, Areno, and Atrox. I would count Valenfrost, but it''s more or less a collection of islands.

    Azurvale (Semi-safe)

    Azurvale is the largest, its eastern and western sides differing greatly in both politics and cultures. Read up on Azurvale¡¯s chapter to know more.

    Kasan (No go)

    Kasan is one of the smallest continents. It¡¯s also the most isolated one. From what I could find out, the entire country and continent of Kasan was in the middle of some kind of civil war. It went on and off for decades before recently finding peace. Still, according to the traders I¡¯ve talked with, the country is still off limits to visitors. They only trade and export stuff.

    From what I¡¯ve seen and heard, Kasan is this world¡¯s version of feudal Japan. Using katanas, samurai getup, and even producing stuff like rice and sake.

    Areno (Relatively safe)

    Second in size to only Azurvale, Areno is probably one of the more prominent continents. Unlike most places in Azura, however, they have done away with trivial kingdoms and dynasties. Instead, Areno is composed of multiple trading companies and small clans, all of them spread around the outskirts of the continent. They produce, export, and trade more than any other continent or country on Azura.

    Areno trades stuff like silk, medicine, spices, and even coffee. Believe me, I was more than thankful to all the gods when I found this out. Areno is such a powerhouse in trading that their own money competes with the gold coins set by Azurvale.

    From descriptions by traders and adventurers, Areno is mostly made up of sand dunes and mountains, a huge desert taking up most of the continent. There are jungles and even forests on Areno, but they are spread around the outskirts. Which is probably why most cities and towns are built there.

    According to some Arenian traders, there are clans living in those mountains and even some in the desert. Their survival sometimes depends on the clan. A few clans survive through oases and trading, while others turn to robbing and raiding.

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    Atrox (Treacherous)

    Very little is known about the continent that resides far south of Azurvale. At least for me. From what I can tell and from what Dahlia and Silas have told me, Atrox is where the barbarians came from during the Outsider Wars. Former home of the ancient orcs and breeding ground of monsters, Atrox is described as a sort of wasteland. Crawling with monsters and abominable creatures, Atrox is a mystery to many.

    Adventurers won¡¯t travel there and the ones that do, usually don¡¯t return. The only thing I know for sure is that the barbarians are still there. They¡¯re still active, as they ravage ships that steer too close.

    Basically, don¡¯t even think about going there.

    Valenfrost (Semi-dangerous)

    This is where I live. Valenfrost is weird. It¡¯s not really a continent. Think of it more like a huge collection of islands that are gathered in the northern hemisphere. There¡¯s a lot of explanation here, so I suggest you just jump to the Valenfrost chapter. There you can delve into its history and what you need to look out for.

    <hr>

    <h2>The Seas</h2>

    Ah yes. From the maps I¡¯ve seen and the people I¡¯ve talked to, there are roughly four main seas. There could be more, I have no idea.

    Black Sea

    This is the sea that Valenfrost lies upon. It extends to Azurvale and even to Areno to an extent. It¡¯s where most trade happens in this world. Arenian traders, Lumen ships, and even orcs parade on these waters, so expect a lot of danger. The Black Sea is surprisingly, not really that dark. After the winter, the water is a nice shade of blue. Especially after most ice has melted. The color and clearness gets more noticeable the more south you go. It is in the winter months, frost, that the water turns pitch black. The northern waters especially.

    Highly recommend you don¡¯t swim in these waters, even if it¡¯s a clear blue. ESPECIALLY when the water is like that. Serpents and leviathans prey on the Black Sea, and their numbers have apparently grown after the most recent war in Valenfrost. They¡¯re more active in this world¡¯s summer and spring, preying on small boats and idiots who go for a swim in the sea.

    Tip: Don¡¯t fall into the sea, especially during sommer.

    Abyssal Sea

    There is a stretch of ocean positioned north of Areno, east of Valenfrost, and west of Kasan. It separates the three nations and extends for thousands of miles. You would think that this is the sea that most traders embark on, especially since there¡¯s no land in the way and it provides a straight line to the previously mentioned nations. Don¡¯t worry, I thought the same as well.

    The Abyssal Sea gets its name from the seemingly bottomless waters it inhabits. Don¡¯t ask me, I don¡¯t get it either. The reason why no one sails it is because no wind passes through it. Not even magical wind works. No one knows why. If you try to sail on it, the waters soon go dead and you¡¯re left drifting out there, with no way back.

    I¡¯ve heard from traders that long ago there were attempts by trading companies to find a way through it. They tried rowing ships but every one they sent out never returned. Communication spells can¡¯t reach those who are stuck there and even gate runes won¡¯t work. Not even creatures of the sea nor sky want to go near it.

    At some point, people have stopped trying and there are many stories about why the winds go dead and the waters turn still. Some believe divine interference and others believe that there is something beyond the horizon that slumbers.

    Me personally? I think there¡¯s something out there. Something that obviously doesn¡¯t want to be disturbed.

    Azure Sea

    This is a section of ocean that¡¯s right south of the Black Sea. It touches upon southern Azurvale, Atrox, and the Arenian Islands. Don¡¯t know much about it other than that most of the sea monsters in Valenfrost go here when it gets too cold. Traders say that the parts of the sea near Areno are as clear as glass. Kinda wish I had a chance to go see it.

    Gale Sea

    The Gale Sea subsides between Eastern Kasan and Western Azurvale. It gets its name from the unholy amount of storms and typhoons it produces. Not much trade goes on because of this. There is a neat story that came of it, though.

    Legend goes that a trading kasani man and azurevalian woman were once enamored with each other. Thing is, they could only see each other whenever the man passed through the sea to trade with her town. So their interactions were sparse and little. Despite it, they loved each other for years

    One day, a thunder god discovered the woman when he came to the town under a guise. Immediately fell in love with her. Did his best to try and court her. Brought her riches from his temple and the finest of clothing and jewelry. The woman refused everytime. Eventually the god found out about her lover, the man from Kasan.

    Jealous and heartbroken, the thunder god cursed the sea between them. Storms and hurricanes ran through the ocean, making travel impossible. Trapping both man and woman in their respective countries, hundreds of miles away.

    <hr>

    To be completely honest, Azura is basically just fantasy. Think of games like WOW or VOA. It¡¯s sorta like that, but with a world much more punishing and dangerous. Filled with warring factions and countless dangers, you will have to be careful with where you go and who you talk to.

    If you¡¯re wondering why I didn¡¯t write much about Azurvale or Valenfrost, the next chapters will cover them

 Azurvale: Factions

    Azurvale. If a plucky hero from earth was to be placed anywhere, it would probably be here. Not me and you, of course. Granted that you are summoned to Valenfrost like I was.

    Azurvale is a large continent that spans as wide as the abyssal sea. Home to many and probably one of the safest places to be, Azurvale¡¯s terrain is described as grassy hills, impressive mountains, diverse forests, and clear lakes. It¡¯s basically the perfect place for a fantasy hero to get his start.

    Azurvale is also a mix of many cultures and factions. The most prominent of all of them however, is the Lumen Kingdom.

    <hr>

    <h2>Factions</h2>

    The Lumen Kingdom

    Medieval Europe basically. At least what I can tell judging from the weaponry and armor. The Lumen Kingdom is governed by its king, who also doesn¡¯t have as much power as old kings did. In fact, from what I¡¯ve been able to figure out, there is a council that controls and votes on decisions made by said king. Possibly made up of nobles and important figures, the council is the central government for the ever expanding kingdom.

    Their central religion revolves around Delphine, the goddess of light and healing. You can read more about her in the Gods chapter. Despite their devotion to her, their government actually separates the church from politics. Funny.

    The Lumen Kingdom has a history with the rest of the world, from sparking conflicts to invading foreign lands, they are pretty much disliked by a lot of countries. Still, there was a supposed time where this wasn¡¯t the case.

    Falrick¡¯s Notes

    The Lumen Kingdom stretches across all of Eastern Azurvale¡¯s coast, their reach expanding slowly through the continent. They do this by absorbing smaller kingdoms and clans, either by negotiations or forceful invasion. This way of expansion would soon lead to a bloody war between both the Kingdom and the nomads of Valenfrost.

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    Despite the apparent separation of church and council, there are signs that these laws aren¡¯t fully enforced or obeyed. For example, one of the most notable troops under Lumen control are the Lumen Knights. Highly trained and dangerous most of the time, these guys worship Delphine and follow her doctrine. They¡¯re also not bound like inquisitors and can choose to fight for the Lumen Kingdom.

    Faust¡¯s Notes

    My experience with the Lumen Kingdom hasn''t been so great. I¡¯ll admit, there is some bias against them. They did nearly kill me after all and their goddess isn¡¯t exactly squeaky clean. That¡¯s a story for another time however.

    Kingdom of Steryos

    I don¡¯t know much about them. If I recall correctly, they occupy the land west of the Lumen Kingdom and are relatively neutral.

    Farkos Republic

    Again, not a lot to tell. They reside farther west of Azurvale, bordering with the Gale Sea and the Horus Mountains. What I¡¯ve heard of them is that they¡¯re a much more contained faction, made up of mostly elves.

    Horus Mountains

    This one I do have some info on. A late friend of mine was from these mountains. Before he passed, he did tell me of his homeland, the Horus Mountains. Ranging from the far west to the east, these mountains are the home to the dwarves.

    The Horus Mountains are made up of multiple colonies, which are basically clans. They once fought and bickered amongst themselves centuries back, even waged wars in the mountains. From what I was told, they only stopped when there was a disease that ravaged them. It only affected dwarves and gnomes, so the mountains were a hotspot. Thousands died and many left to find refuge and haven somewhere else. This left the Horus Mountains nearly abandoned.

    After a couple of centuries, the mountains sort of grew back to what it used to be. The colonies made peace and they focused on mining the mountains for their resources to trade and keep themselves fed.

    The Horus Mountains are not really a faction. They don¡¯t attack nor expand and are relatively peaceful. As peaceful as a group of dwarves are. They are only made up of dwarves, and only accept other dwarves into the mountains. People can visit for sure, but they can¡¯t overstay their welcome. Trading is really the one thing you can do over there as a person.

 Valenfrost: Notable History

    Welcome to Valenfrost. One of, if not, the most dangerous places to end up at. Made up on countless islands, the nation of Valenfrost covers most of the northern hemisphere of Azura. Its history is mostly shattered and forgotten, since most clans here are nomadic and distant with each other. Still there is some sort of unity. The north is the most stable, with Redyr ruling most of it. The Lumen Kingdom also has some stake in some islands, such as Norum and a couple of outposts.

    Like I mentioned before, history has been a confusing thing. Since Valenfrost is made up of mostly nomads, history and records are usually passed along orally rather than written down. That results in hundreds of versions of events and stories, leaving an unreliable history of this nation. Still, there are some consistent facts. That is, relating to the last fifty years.

    <hr>

    Notable History

    <h2> </h2>

    <h2>The Outsider Wars</h2>

    One of the longer wars in recent history. This is going to be a bit of a long one, so strap in.

    Decades ago, the tensions between the Nomads in Valenfrost and the Lumen Kingdom were strained to their limits. No one knows what started it, or why it did. Some speculate that the goddess Delphine herself ordered it while others believe that it was the result of Kjor¡¯s and Yorn¡¯s small war. Either way, all anyone knows is that the Lumen Kingdom started their invasion in the north, taking over Norum and slowly working their way into Valenfrost.

    Falrick¡¯s notes

    Year 1

    In the initial year of the war, Lumen forces clashed with the clans of Valenfrost. Norum was overrun and taken in under a day, sending all the clans in Valenfrost into a fury. Most of the major clans decided then and there to put aside differences and unite. Everyone who fought for Valenfrost did so under the Halvorson and Redyr banner, the two most powerful clans at the time.

    The first year of the war was devastating, taking countless lives and causing unnecessary suffering. I¡¯m not sure of the truth behind the rumors but there are stories of Lumen Knights committing senseless murders, torturing prisoners, and even pillaging/burning whole villages down. All of this cemented a certain hatred for the Lumen Kingdom, the stigma lasting up to present day.

    The Barbarians

    However, the war¡¯s focus would soon change not even two years after it started. Far south, barbarians from Atrox had decided to make their move. No one is sure what exactly happened but most theorize that the clans from the south continent had all decided to join together to attack and pillage the north. This included both Lumen land and Valenfrost waters.

    The Barbarians were arguably worse than either the Valenfrost Alliance or Lumen Kingdom, as they did nothing more than pillage and burn whatever they liked. They ravaged towns and cities, taking little to no prisoners, and stole what they wanted. They were like raiders but worse in the way that they numbered in thousands and were equipped with decent to good gear.

    Forced Truce

    For a couple months after the barbarians joined in on the conflict, both the Valenfrost Alliance and Lumen Kingdom were still at each other''s throats. However, it became clear to both sides that fighting a two front war was tandem to suicide. Barbarians were exploiting their strained efforts and attacking at random. Their reach grew with every week, taking more lives and resources from the two sides.

    Eventually, both sides called a truce and even formed what was supposed to be a temporary alliance.

    This truce was obviously controversial. Many people hated it and a couple clans left the alliance outright. Regardless of how most looked at it, no one can deny the fact that this truce saved Valenfrost for the better.

    The Hectic Years

    Even with the truce in place, with both the Valenfrost Alliance and Lumen Kingdom no longer enemies, the war was far from over. Barbarians had taken so much in both gold and weapons that they were just as well equipped as knights and wealthy enough to hire more raiders to their effort.

    The war would go on to last well over a decade, with both sides taking heavy casualties. One of the main reasons why this war was so long, was due to the sheer size of Valenfrost and its numerous islands. To clear it all was a nigh impossible task, especially with how dug in the barbarians were and the brutal tactics they had employed to stave off attacks.

    Thankfully, with the combined efforts of the Alliance and Lumen Kingdom, the barbarians were driven out of Azurvale and Valenfrost for good. Still it wasn¡¯t without heavy consequence.

    Aftermath

    Thousands dead. Even more displaced. Valenfrost had taken a much harder hit than Azurvale, with a good chunk of their islands razed to ash and cinders. Many notable clans had been reduced to nothing, their territory nonexistent. I¡¯m not sure the extent of the damage, but it was enough to affect Valenfrost for the years to come. Even now, there are still lingering effects of the war.

    Including that of the fall of one of the biggest clans.

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    Clan History

    The islands of Valenfrost were once all united under four clans. At least, as far back as anyone could recall. Redyr, Halvorson, Blyth, and Falk were once the powerhouses of Valenfrost. Their history goes back decades, back to when Halvor the Great (The original Halvorson) was still alive. When these four clans ruled, there was at least some sort of unity and peace. It was probably the closest Valenfrost had ever come to peace.

    When his father died, Kjor Halvorson took over the clan. He ruled as a warlord throughout Valenfrost, wiping out smaller clans and butting heads with his allies. It had gotten to the point where everyone had declared him as public enemy number one.

    Seamus'' notes

    Yorn would start up his own clan, taking up the Bear heraldry his grandfather used. With the help of his grandfather¡¯s allies and some new friends, Yorn would build up his clan and slowly take back what was rightfully his.

    He even gained the support of the other big three clans, such as Redyr, Falk, and Blyth. With their help, Yorn managed to launch a full scale attack on Kjor¡¯s keep. The battle was hard fought and at the end, Yorn came out on top. Kjor¡¯s death would mark an end to his terror and a beginning of a new legend.

    However, it was the beginning of the end for the four big clans. Blyth, clan of the wolf, would be first to fall. From the information I¡¯ve managed to gather, they became valuable after some conflict long ago. Because of this, it left them vulnerable to a foreign kingdom from further south. They ransacked and invaded Blyth¡¯s territories, killing countless innocents and taking even more as slaves. It all had happened so fast that none of the other clans were able to assist properly. In the end, all that was left were burnt islands.

    The second to fall was Falk, clan of the falcon. It actually used to be a thriving clan, with many rich merchants from Areno and Kasan. It had even become one of the richest and most powerful clans in Valenfrost history. Unfortunately, their rise to power was short-lived. Apparently, Falk had ignored the gathering of orcs and barbarians in the south and east, which resulted in their trading ships soon becoming nothing more than targets. Their power and influence quickly fizzled out soon after, resulting in their clan being nothing more than a couple of islands and a handful of ships.

    Falrick''s Notes

    The third and latest to fall was the Halvorson Clan. Yorn Halvorson had made himself a name in Valenfrost and Azurvale, putting fear in both Lumen soldiers and barbarians alike. His territory after the Outsider Wars extended across Valenfrost, both north and south. However, it wouldn¡¯t last. The Marauders of the North, led by Deimos, had been carefully and methodically taking over Halvorson territory. Bit by bit, they took over islands and made their way to Yorn¡¯s central fort, where he himself lived with his family.

    No one knows how he did it. I¡¯m not even sure there¡¯s a reasonable explanation. All anyone knows is that Deimos had raided the Yorn¡¯s fort and home, somehow getting past his alarm totems and veils. His marauders killed almost anyone they came across, taking women as trophies and capturing innocents to make them slaves.

    Yorn Halvorson died that night, covered in arrows and spears. Deimos beheaded him and since then, has been slowly growing in power.

    Redyr, clan of the reindeer, is the last of the big four to still rule over the north. It¡¯s Jarl had died some years ago, leaving his wife to act as Frue and rule over his remaining territory. Still, Redyr is far from the powerhouse it used to be. They had lost territory during the Outsider Wars and had been forced to give up islands to Lumen control in the aftermath. They are still a force to be reckoned with, however, since they have the biggest armada of ships in Valenfrost.

    Currently, the better known clans in Valenfrost are as follows.

    Factions

    Halvorson (The Bear Clan)

    <h5>Status: Fallen</h5>

    Formerly the biggest clan in Valenfrost. Once led by the infamous Yorn Halvorson. His son Seamus Halvorson is the sole survivor.

    Falk (The Falcon/Hawk Clan)

    <h5>Status: Active</h5>

    Led by Jarl Ivan Falk. While small, there are reports that Jarl Ivan is gaining more territory in south and west, his reach slowly growing into the east. Possible enemy of the White Raven Clan. Be wary.

    Olafson (The Serpent Clan)

    <h5>Status: Active</h5>

    Led by Jarl Lars Olafson. His son, Daven Larsson, is his emissary and heir. Territory is limited in the south and east. Smallest of the current powerhouses. Forced ally of the White Raven Clan.

    Villtur (The Boar Clan)

    <h5>Status: Active</h5>

    One of the strongest clans behind Redyr. Led by Jarl Lukas Villtur. He controls the east and central islands. Below Redyr territory and above Olafson territory. Forced ally of the White Raven Clan. Be wary.

    Vulpesson (The Fox Clan)

    <h5>Status: Active</h5>

    Led by Jarl Vulpesson. His son, Siegfried, is an emissary and heir to his throne. Controls the western islands and some of the north. Forced ally of the White Raven Clan. Be wary.

    Redyr (The Reindeer Clan)

    <h5>Status: Active</h5>

    A remnant of the past but still kicking. Led by Frue Margeret Redyr. Clan is powerful but at odds with rival clans and Lumen control. Potential ally? Still be wary.

    Holter (The White Raven Clan)

    <h5>Status: Active</h5>

    Led by Jarl James Holter, this clan is small but growing. It recently caught the attention of everyone last Midsommar, due to the actions performed during the Battle for Vindis. Its growth has since exploded, its territory growing over a few islands and outposts in the southern-eastern edge of Valenfrost.

    This is my clan. The one I started last frost. It is an ally to anyone who seeks refuge and safety. That is, as long as you are not associated with the goddess Delphine or her Lumen Knights. The reason why? Well, we¡¯ll get to that another time.

 Currency

    Money is the most vital thing in this world. Not surprising, honestly. Since the dawn of mankind, currency has been a common drive for most of humanity. Valenfrost is no different. These are all the types you got to look out for and identify.

    <hr>

    Silver

    The common silver coin. It is probably the lowest worth coin you can get. Not much bigger than a quarter but it''s not entirely worthless. Silver is probably the only piece of currency that does not originate from any specific country or continent. Almost every piece I¡¯ve come across has have few engravings, if any at all. Most of it is ineligible, since these coins aren¡¯t exactly in perfect condition.

    There¡¯s a reason why most people refer to these coins as scraps, since their journeys through the world have left them in a sorry state. It¡¯s almost rare to find one that¡¯s actually shaped like a coin.

    A couple scraps of silver in some places can get you a nice meal. Other places can give you that plus more for the same price. The economy in Valenfrost shifts constantly depending on where you go. Some places are more expensive than others.

    Aurius

    Another fancy word for gold coin. It is a name not well known, especially since most gold in Valenfrost comes from Eastern Azurvale. Most of the gold you come across is from the Lumen treasury, as seen with the engraved phoenix on one of its faces.

    Aurius¡¯s come in two types. King pieces and Queen pieces. Queen pieces are the most common of the two, as common as gold can get. They are worth fifty silver roughly, probably a little more honestly. It is said that one single queen piece can buy around a couple dozen loaves of bread, so take that as you will. Queen pieces are of course distinguished by the engraving of a queen on one of its sides. They are around the size of a quarter.

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    King pieces are a bit more rare, the coin a little bigger than a half dollar. It has the engraving of a king on its side, reminiscent of an old Lumen King that had once ruled over the empire. They are worth around a hundred silver pieces, making them one of the rarer coins to come across.

    There¡¯s also the small chance of coming across small scraps of gold, not unlike scraps of silver. These are usually called Clippings and are the result of people not exactly wanting to part with their whole gold coin. Take care if you find these, it usually means you¡¯re in the presence of thieves.

    Valdora

    The coin of the merchant. Or the thief. Depends on who you ask, really. Valdoras are a rectangular blue-colored coin that hails from the continent of Areno. Forged by an invaluable metal that could only be found in the desert continent, the Valdora coin¡¯s value comes from the magical properties it inherits.

    The bluish metal is a natural conductor for the mana that emits from ley lines, allowing it to be used for enchantments and runic engravings. While gold has the same effect, valdoras have the advantage of being immune to scrying magic. Which means that their coins cannot be tracked by advanced spellcasters and used to descry hidden locations. Of course, any spellcaster worth his salt could always disenchant the gold he pockets, but not everyone is so lucky to be in the vicinity of such people.

    Which is why valdoras have become a valuable currency for thieves and criminals alike. Of course, they are also valuable for Arenian traders that come by Valenfrost. Especially since it¡¯s the coin of their people.

    Valdoras are worth around a hundred silver, perhaps a little more honestly. You¡¯ll sometimes come across half valdoras, which are the same coin but square shape. The reason for this is that sometimes, stingy people will snap the coins in half to use them sparingly. It sorta works. Especially if you don¡¯t want to have any queen pieces on hand.

    <hr>

    Of course, these aren¡¯t the only things you can use to get goods and services. Trading is always an option, that is, if you have anything worth trading. There are probably other forms of money and gold, but that¡¯s beyond Valenfrost. These are the main forms you have to keep an eye out for.

 Magic: The Rundown

    The good stuff. Possibly one of the most redeeming parts of this world, honestly. Magic isn¡¯t for everyone however. From my experience, some people rather not train their ley lines or waste the money on inscribing runes on their bodies. Regardless, knowing the basics of the system is important and can affect how you deal with magic users.

    Learning Magic

    Basics first. Learning magic boils down to one important step. Activating your ley lines. What are your ley lines? Well they are lines of energy that run throughout your body. Apparently, humans from earth aren¡¯t all that different from the humanoids of Azura. You can activate these lines in your body by linking them with the main ley lines of magic that run through Azura¡¯s crust, several miles below the ground.

    As you can guess, it¡¯s not that easy. For the fastest and easiest way to activate your ley lines, you¡¯ll have to find yourself another magic user. Preferably an experienced shaman or wizard. They would have to perform a ritual that takes hours, linking your lines with the ones of Azura. If you don¡¯t have access to a shaman or wizard, then you would have to do it the hard way. By meditating and studying for months or even years. Obviously, this is a route that would also require you to have access to certain books and teachers. You would have an easier time linking up the faster way.

    Once linked up, you are ready for learning magical castings. Which can go into two paths. Both of which have some benefits.

    The first and more traditional way of learning magic is to learn and study for months at a time with tomes and grimoires. Depending on your affinity, learning spells can take as little as a few months to as long as years of studying. You¡¯ll also have to meditate (again) to exercise and get used to your active ley lines. This path takes the most work and time, but it also allows you to get used to your castings and increase reserves faster than the second path.

    The second way of acquiring spells is perhaps the most painful and brutish way. If you don''t have the patience or the time, then this path is for you. First, you¡¯ll need a shaman or seasoned spellcaster who knows what they¡¯re doing. Then, with whatever casting they offer to you, they place an outline on your body. This outline allows them a framework of your ley lines to work with. They then engrave the casting¡¯s rune onto your body, burning it into your ley lines. It¡¯s crude, painful, but it does give you a casting at the end of the day.

    Problem with it is the limit. With the first option, once you¡¯re able to cast magic, your spell reserves are usually at a respectable number. Which can grow with ease with more training and meditation. The second path, limits your castings to the bare minimum. Every person who takes this path will always start with only one casting a day.

    Reserves, slots, castings, there are many names for it. Just know that every spell has a cost to them. Basic spells and most Physical Castings all consume roughly one magical reserve. Don¡¯t try to cast a spell with no reserves, as it could yield very very bad results.

    Casting magic and practicing is important, as the ley lines in your body are like a muscle. The more you use it, the more reserves you can grow.

    Let¡¯s explain magic in a bit more depth.

    Spells

    Spells are manifestations of magic that can be molded into various means. For example, a wizard can summon the magic from his ley lines to form a projectile. These can range from a powerful and devastating fireball to an accurate but deadly ice lance. Some spells don¡¯t need to be in the form of projectiles. Some can be like Inferno, which is a fire spell that can engulf an entire area in a tornado of flames. Others can act like counters, like Temporal Parry or Reflect. Or even buffs, such as Basic Carapace. Spells are much more flexible and variable. They can come in many forms.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Physical Castings

    Physical Castings are much more limited than spells and incantations. They are entirely dependent on their user¡¯s physical ability and endurance. They tax the user¡¯s metabolism heavily and strain their muscles to an extent. Physical Castings utilize magic in a different way from spells and rituals. They are mainly used to enhance the user¡¯s body, allowing them to perform superhuman feats. For example, Power Strike is a commonly used casting that enhances a user¡¯s next strike, multiplying their strength two fold. Carapace is another Physical Casting that shields the user with a protective layer, increasing their endurance and durability to attacks. While Physical Castings can be very useful in a fight, there is a dangerous risk whenever they are used. These castings heat the body up, risking heat stroke, which is fatal.

    <hr>

    Every spell and casting must be casted with either words of power or formed runes. While rare, new spells can be created by a skilled sorcerer or wizard. The same goes for physical castings, as new ones can be created by skilled warriors. Very rare, though. From what Falrick tells me, the last person to create a new casting was roughly a century back. Even then, it had been a minor spell.

    Magic is hard to obtain and expensive to improve. Either from paying for wizards to engrave spells onto you, or buying pricey tomes to learn more about the specific branch of magic you want to cast. And that¡¯s not even delving into affinities. Which reminds me.

    Affinity Types

    Everyone has an affinity to a certain type of magic. The main affinities go as follows.

    Fire

    Water

    Wind

    Nature

    Those are the main ones. As in, they are basically the roots for all magic types. Ice, Lightning, and such all stem from the main affinities. They¡¯re like subgenres in a way.

    Having an affinity to certain elements can affect the way you cast magic and improve on your skills. For example, having an affinity to something like Fire can vastly improve the way you use pyromancy spells. Of course, you don¡¯t have to have an affinity to Fire to become a pyromancer. Affinities just boost what¡¯s already there and have the potential to vastly increase the output of compatible spells.

    Dahlia¡¯s Notes

    There are two affinities that I didn¡¯t bother putting on the list. That¡¯s because they''re incredibly rare and I¡¯ve never met anyone who had them

    Light and Dark are two elements that seem¡­ painfully generic. Of course, that doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re any bad. From what I¡¯ve heard from Dahlia and Falrick, these two affinities are possibly the most powerful ones to be born with.

    The Dark affinity allows one to be proficient with black magic and rituals. Necromancy, demons, undead , conjurations, the like. This also includes shadow type spells like Shadowstep or Shadow Bind. I¡¯ve seen people without this affinity use this type of magic with scary good precision so it should go without saying that anyone who has an affinity to Dark magic will unsurprisingly be a force to be reckoned with.

    Thankfully, there doesn¡¯t seem to be anyone like that in Valenfrost. At least, not to my knowledge. Hopefully.

    The Light affinity is arguably just as strong if not stronger. Like Dark, Light boosts all types of magic that are related to it. Holy Magic, Healing Incantations, and even spells like Flare all get boosted to high heaven. The Light affinity can even boost someone¡¯s basic metabolism, allowing them to heal without words of power or runes. Their blood is said to be enough to ward off evil spirits and cure disease, though I¡¯m not sure how true that is.

    Anyone born with a Light affinity is automatically a candidate to become a high cleric in any High God¡¯s church. That¡¯s how powerful it is.

    Speaking of gods¡­

 Gods and Goddesses

    As you can guess, yes, there are Gods. Deities that are beyond our comprehension as mortals, blah blah blah.

    As you can probably guess, I am not a big fan of them. I have a good reason for that, albeit a bit biased. That¡¯s for another section, however.

    Gods are an integral part of this world, and their influence is felt throughout Azura. Depending on the deity, their influence can lead to many things, from small, unnoticeable changes to the fall of kingdoms. Here is a rough description of the main deities. Remember that these are the ones I¡¯ve heard of and encountered.

    <hr>

    Delphine, Goddess of Light and Healing

    Known as the Golden Goddess by some and Golden Bitch by others, Delphine is a polarizing deity. On paper, she is a kind deity. She heals the sick and blesses those who follow her church. Her holy influence can cleanse blighted fields and ward off evil spirits. In practice, there is some truth to that. I¡¯ll try to be as unbiased as possible.

    Elaine¡¯s Notes

    The Lumen Kingdom is her major patron, and the church resides in the heart of Lumen City. While not law, her word is heavily encouraged and taught throughout the populace. Her clerics heavily influence the nobility, and their prophecies are treated like law.

    Many people in Valenfrost blame her for the initial year of the Outsider Wars, as it is rumored that she had called the Lumen Kingdom forth to retake the northern islands. There¡¯s no solid proof, of course¡ªjust the words and stories of old men.

    However, she does have a habit of stepping into mortal affairs.

    Delphine is a kind goddess. Her doctrine states that she forgives those who have wronged her church and religion. As long as they repent, no ill will shall be shown. However, that does not extend to those who are seemingly manipulated by Myr. Anyone who is even slightly related to the God of Chaos is seemingly purged and put to the sword, Outlanders included.

    Which brings us to her opinion on me. From what I¡¯ve heard and experienced, Delphine seems to want me dead. She seems to want all Outlanders dead. Which probably includes you, honestly.

    Delphine seems to have a somewhat sour relationship with Myr, the two deities participating in what I can only call a cold war. Personally, I could give less of a shit about it. Yet I am drawn into it. All because some asshole god thought it¡¯d be funny to take me from my world and throw me in here.

    Regardless of my feelings, I don¡¯t think it is safe to be around Delphine¡¯s followers. Lumen Knights included.

    Myr, God of Chaos

    The Mad God. The Smiling One. The Chaos Bringer.

    Myr is a god I probably hate more than the others. Probably. There are contenders.

    The God of Chaos is one that I frankly know little about. His appearance is often displayed on the masks of his followers, depicted as a cartoony grin with dot eyes, almost like a simple drawing. I refuse to believe that¡¯s actually what he looks like.

    Myr¡¯s influence is best described as ¡®Not at all¡¯. While it¡¯s rumored he manipulates men and brings otherworlders to Azura, there¡¯s no definitive proof or answer. It is said he¡¯s responsible for bringing otherworlders like me into Azura, but that doesn¡¯t seem right.

    I never met him, and I never felt any influence from him. His children¡­ that¡¯s another story, but it seems like he¡¯s almost not involved. I might be going crazy, but I feel as if Myr is more of a bystander than anything. He nudges but doesn¡¯t push. He whispers but doesn¡¯t make himself known. Myr is more of a force of nature, like chaos.

    Iendis, Demigoddess of Fate and Daughter of Myr

    Ok, I take it back. I hate her the most.

    Iendis is Myr¡¯s infamous daughter, and her role is that of the caretaker for the Tree of Fate. Like her father, she finds joy in the unexpected and thrives on chaos as a whole. She and her brother are responsible for the summoning of Outlanders such as myself, all in an effort to please their insane father and sow seeds of chaos into the world of Azura.

    I had the unfortunate luck of meeting with her at the Tree of Fate, where I discovered my role in all of this. Outlanders aren¡¯t summoned here to save the world or anything ridiculous like that. We are simply pawns, game pieces that are thrown into Azura for the enjoyment of mad Gods. As much as I hate to admit it, I played into it more times than I¡¯d care to admit.

    If you can, avoid Iendis and her followers. Her sweet promises and words might sound nice but they will cause you more trouble than it is worth.

    Thien, Demigod of the Void, Son of Myr

    Thien is the son of Myr and the Boatman of the Dead. He guides the souls of the dead to Helheim, this world¡¯s afterlife. He takes anything shiny and valuable as payment for his services, which is why it¡¯s usually tradition to place coins on the eyes of dead people. The Boatman is also one of the few deities that can freely travel through dimensions and worlds with little to no effort.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    He is responsible for bringing Outlanders in from other worlds, and his vessel is responsible for their transport. I don¡¯t exactly know how it works; I never saw him when I was transported here. Still, it makes sense that he¡¯s the one who brings in earthlings.

    Thien is described as a shadowy figure with a hood, his face made of ever-changing wax. According to the children¡¯s stories, he molds himself into people to trick children and adults alike. He weeds out bad kids by how they treat their elders and parents, disguising himself as them. When Thien finds a bad child, he punishes them by eating their dreams whilst they sleep, bringing them horrible nightmares of an eldritch spindly creature chasing them through an infinite labyrinth. Yes, that is apparently real, and the dream is consistent in every account.

    As far as I can tell, Thien¡¯s powers involve stretching and tearing realities. He can rip open portals, embark through the void between dimensions, and even transport other beings between realms. He can also manipulate dreams and peer into men¡¯s souls.

    If you ever see him, do yourself a favor and don¡¯t even try to run. You¡¯re either dead or chosen for something questionably heretical. Either way, running won¡¯t do a damn thing.

    Dremor, God of Death and Souls

    The ruler of Helheim itself. Dremor is a God that people know little about. Hell, there aren¡¯t even many people who truly follow him.

    According to the bards and stories, Dremor is in charge of ensuring that the souls of the dead are filtered through Helheim by something that¡¯s always described as a ¡®Cauldron of Souls¡¯. It sifts through the souls, putting them through purgatory until Dremor himself judges them. If a person has been a depraved human being who deserves no love, then he is sent to the bottom of Hel itself, where his soul becomes the flame that boils the cauldron.

    If the person has followed their chosen God well and has done redeemable acts, then they are sent to their respective afterlives. Something like Delphine¡¯s Heaven or Virtus¡¯ Valhalla.

    If the person has done no evil but no good, they are reincarnated and sent back into the world. Of course, this also applies to anyone who didn¡¯t have a chosen God.

    This is all a mixture of guesswork and speculation. In reality, no one really knows what happens after one dies here. And if I¡¯m being honest, I don¡¯t believe there is an afterlife. Now, I know what you¡¯re thinking. ¡®How could you not believe in one when Gods exist?¡¯

    The answer is complicated, but you¡¯ll have to trust me. I¡¯ve seen¡­glimpses of the other side. I¡¯ve interacted with souls that had come back to the living. Nothing has given me concrete proof that there even is a Helheim or some sort of afterlife. It feels like there¡¯s nothing but darkness on the other side. I¡¯m even questioning Dremor¡¯s own existence at this point.

    Still, I¡¯ll give it the benefit of the doubt. Who really knows, honestly? It is a bit comforting to know that the friends I lost may have found some sort of peace in the afterlife. That their souls didn¡¯t just wink out of existence. I don¡¯t know. Maybe I¡¯m just rambling.

    Caelus, God of Order, Son of Delphine

    Caelus is described as the man who ascended into Godhood¡ªat least, that¡¯s what the legends say. Thousands of years ago, Caelus was a warrior who fought for an ancient kingdom. He was a fearless leader who sought to bring unity and order to the warring factions that ravaged Azurvale.

    During one particular battle, he was fatally wounded in an attempt to defend his home city¡¯s walls. On the brink of death, he made a desperate prayer to Delphine. She answered and granted him her heraldry, its power more than enough for him to obliterate the ¡®Dark¡¯ army forces that threatened his people. (Yeah, I know.)

    After the battle, Caelus began to ascend. It was then revealed that he was Delphine¡¯s own son, given to Azura in an attempt to unite and protect the world. With her infused power, Caelus had completed the final steps in the requirements to ascend to Godhood. He became the God of Order, and his following still goes strong to this day.

    I don¡¯t know what to think about this story. It¡¯s clearly hammed up for dramatic effect, and there were plenty of inconsistencies in the original writings. According to Faust¡¯s memory, Caelus wasn¡¯t exactly a good son either. Not since the God himself had decided to support the Legion, a faction that bent on wiping the Lumen Kingdom off Azurvale¡¯s surface.

    I have no idea what happened between the two deities during that time, but I¡¯m going to go ahead and guess it was the holy equivalent of a teenager rebelling against his parents.

    Freyja, Goddess of Nature

    Freyja represents nature and fertility, and for most people, that¡¯s everything. However, according to a couple of credible sources, she represents a lot more, and her influence is noted all around Valenfrost. In a way, she is to Valenfrost like Delphine is to Azurvale.

    Freyja¡¯s philosophy is that life should follow the principles of beauty, like a flower. Live life to its fullest and enjoy what you can before the end comes. Bloom brightly and show the world your best before your death comes. This could also be interpreted as: Die in battle and be rewarded in the afterlife. At least, that¡¯s what I¡¯m getting at.

    Perhaps that¡¯s why so many people in Valenfrost worship her and leave offerings for her shrines during Bloom.

    Dahlia Notes

    Azlene, Goddess of Embers

    I don¡¯t know much about her, honestly. The most I¡¯ve learned is that a friend of mine was once her Herald; his loyalty to her was restored briefly before his passing. I sometimes like to think that maybe he passed on to whatever afterlife she promised him. I don¡¯t know.

    Orpheus, God of Alcohol and Music

    From what I¡¯ve heard, Orpheus is also the God of Bards. If the stories are to be believed, he has a big ol¡¯ statue of himself in the center of Lumen City¡¯s Academy of the Arts. It is said that he enjoys the Iliads and stories of heroes so much that he¡¯s been known to bless people personally.

    Elaine Notes

    The God is also one for pulling pranks and tricks on people, disguising himself as fantastical creatures or historical figures, all to get a laugh. However, those are rarely recorded due to the restrictions Gods have when it comes to interacting with mortals.

    Strangely enough (or not strange at all), this once sparked a little bit of a kinship between Followers of Chaos and Bards of Orpheus, as both groups and their Gods share similarities. There are actually records of the two groups interacting with each other and stories of infamous bards wearing Myr¡¯s symbol. Still, those stories took place in the far past, apparently, and the cold war with Myr and Delphine has divided the two groups since.

    As you can guess, Orpheus is infamously known for not taking sides at all. His clergy reportedly said on record that he encouraged the cooperation between his group and Myr¡¯s. Apparently, as long as you party and give gold to his offerings, he couldn¡¯t care less about your view of Delphine and her pantheon. Seriously, that part is real.

    Elaine''s Notes

 People of Note: Character Descriptions

    Biographies and descriptions of notable people.

    In order of appearance.

    <hr>

    Post Midsommar 561

    <h2>Allies</h2>

    James Holter

    Height: 6¡¯2 / 187 cm

    Age: 26

    Description: Dirty blond hair that reaches to his shoulders. Has dark blue eyes paired with a pale complexion as a result of lack of sun in Valenfrost. Broad and tall.

    Biography: Once an earthling, James Holter was accidentally summoned to Azura, specifically Valenfrost. After dying to Deimos, James was revived by Dahlia. To save his life, the shaman implanted a spirit by the name of Faust into the earthling. For the past year, James and Faust have been fused together, their companionship vital to their survival. James has fought against both abomination and marauders, his strength growing in the past months as he is pushed to his limits. James is also a conflicted man, his morals tested constantly throughout the months. Regardless of the choices the world presents to him, James does his best to retain his core beliefs.

    Dahlia Astera

    Height: 5¡¯8 / 172 cm

    Age: 25

    Description: Short raven-black hair that reaches past her ears. Her eyes are an amber-yellow color, like honey. Contrasts with her lightish-brown skin, which is accompanied by runic tattoos that run up her arms. Has a smaller frame than most but is still a formidable fighter.

    Biography: Born and raised in Yorktown, Dahlia became an orphan at a young age. Her father¡ªa former Lumen soldier¡ªand mother had both succumbed to a disease that had ravaged the island years back. This left her to be raised by the island¡¯s shaman, Dres. Dahlia was brought up learning how to cast magic without rune imprinting. She honed in her ley lines over the years, allowing them to naturally grow. Because of this, Dahlia has more available spells per day, giving her an advantage over others who imprint their runes on their bodies. Her training from Shaman Dres had also allowed her to perform complicated rituals, such as the one that she had used to summon James Holter. For the past year, Dahlia has paired up with James to fight off abominations, marauders, and even Lumen Knights. This had all culminated into the duo forming a relationship with each other, something that has proven to be difficult to maintain over the months.

    Dahlia is someone who has little experience with such emotions and feelings. To her, James is the last person she ever wants to lose. She will do anything to make sure he lives.

    Seamus Halvorson

    Height: 5¡¯11 / 180 cm

    Age: 21

    Description: Pale complexion that contrasts with his dark sea-green eyes. His hair is naturally shaped like an upside-down bowl. No matter how much he cuts it, it always reverts to that shape. Muscular and strong from years of training, yet his frame doesn¡¯t compliment this at all. Looks more lanky and thin due to the baggy clothes he wears.

    Biography: Seamus Halvorson is the son of Yorn Halvorson, the once ruling Jarl of the Halvorson Clan. After his father and clan were massacred, Seamus had managed to pass himself off as an unlucky merchant that was stranded. This had slowly led to the events of the Siege of Yorktown, where he met James Holter and Dahlia Astera. It was then that he would learn that the events of that massacre had forever changed him, fracturing his mind and locking his memories away. For the coming months, Seamus would go on to learn more about his fractured past and recover memories from before the Halvorson massacre. A year following his clan¡¯s near extinction, he has found himself a home worth protecting. After the events of the Midsommar Incident, Seamus vows that he would never allow what happened to his clan to happen to his new family.

    Helen Dunn

    Height: 5¡¯10 / 177 cm

    Age: 34

    Description: Short blond hair that reaches to her shoulders. Dark blue eyes and pale skin. Muscular and lean, her body hardened after years of fighting.

    Biography: A veteran of the Outsider Wars, Helen fought for Redyr as a sword-for-hire at a young age. Despite joining during the twilight years of the war, Helen had fought enough to develop combat skills and experience, which allowed her to work as a mercenary in the years following the conflict. After some years working as a sword-for-hire, Helen would be persuaded to join the Marauders of the North, where she refined her skills and fought for what she believed was a good cause. It was only after the Halvorson raid did she realize that Deimos was no better than the barbarians that had raided Valenfrost all those years ago. It was during the Siege of Yorktown where her life would take a sudden change in trajectory. After being incapacitated by Haggard and Felix, Helen would be taken prisoner by the Yorktown guard. Her freedom would come after she made a deal with James to help him navigate his ship during his quest to burn out the abominations. It was during these events that Helen had found a new purpose for herself.

    Helen is a loudmouth that enjoys talking shit and provoking others. Beyond that, however, Helen has a soft spot for those she calls comrades. Following the events of the Midsommar Incident, the need to protect her friends has grown stronger.

    Felix Arlo

    Height: 5¡¯10 / 177 cm

    Age: 24

    Description: Short brown hair and light goatee and mustache. Black eyes and pale skin that has been tanned after years of exposure, despite lack of sun. Lean body with strong back and arms, a build meant for an archer.

    Biography: Born and raised in Yorktown, Felix is the last of the previous group of guardsmen that had once defended the island. Now as Captain, he does his best to pass along the responsibilities to the newly formed Raven Guard, which is loyal to the White Raven clan. Felix has gone through hardship after hardship, his job as Captain weighing on his shoulders as he does what he can to defend Yorktown. He has fought off Lumen soldiers, killed marauders, and has helped defend Vindis from incursion. The guardsmen, despite going through many changes, still look up to him for guidance. It is because of this that Felix has devoted himself to be good enough to see all his men to safety.

    His loyalty for Yorktown is immense. Even with his clear Azurvalian heritage, Felix declares himself a native of Valenfrost, through and through. He has bled for his town, even killed for it. He would most certainly die for it.

    Haggard

    Height: 6¡¯5 / 195 cm

    Age: 33

    Description: Black hair that reaches to his ears, usually swept back. Accompanied by a beard he keeps trimmed. Has the stereotypical Val¨ªan features, dark green eyes and pale skin. His build is brawny, almost like an orc¡¯s.

    Biography: A drifter with no purpose, Haggard found himself in Yorktown during a marauder attack. If you ask him, he was at the right place at the right time. Haggard wields a mighty blacksmith¡¯s hammer, its weight more than enough to bash in skulls and break bones. Regardless, the drifter has found himself in situations that he couldn¡¯t just solve by hitting harder. Call it bad luck or happenstance, Haggard wouldn¡¯t really care. He likes the challenge regardless. A drinker on occasion, Haggard is a man of little substance. According to him, he only exists to fight the strongest being he can find. Still, if one were to pay a bit more attention, they¡¯d be able to notice the little cracks behind the facade. Sometimes, he refers to himself as the last of his name. Other times, when he drinks more than usual, his friendly demeanor washed away and replaced by one of grim remembrance. There is a sense of something deeper with him.

    Kate Rowan

    Height: 5¡¯9 / 175 cm

    Age: 20

    Description: Dark brown hair that reaches to her shoulders, her eyes a greenish blue. Her build is lean and strong after months of training.

    Biography: Kate was once a shopkeeper, destined to work at her family¡¯s shop in Yorktown. During her mundane life on the island, Kate had never thought her life to amount to much. Not until the marauders came. Her father, Michael Rowan, was amongst the crowd of witnesses when James Holter was fatally stabbed by Deimos. Inspired, Kate¡¯s father became a guardsman in hopes to protect the town from incursion. However, his life would come to a quick end when his troop was ambushed outside of the town. Kate would never know the specifics, but his disappearance was more than enough to confirm his death. After witnessing Seamus Halvorson swiftly kill a group of marauders, Kate herself became inspired. Not unlike her father, Kate joined the guardsmen in an effort to make a difference. She would go on to prove herself, becoming a squad leader and favored student of Harald Stroud. Kate would fight at the Battle of Yorktown, defending the town from an ambush set by Lumen soldiers. She and her squad would also go on to help in the Battle of Vindis, assisting Harald Stroud as he fought off Azlene¡¯s Herald.

    Kate comes off as hardened, her scars and distant attitude making her seem so. However, deep inside, Kate is still the young girl who feared for her life in her family¡¯s shop. Kate pushes people away sometimes, trying not to make the mistake of getting attached. Yet even that has exceptions. Seamus being one of them.

    Dirk Andal

    Height: 5¡¯8 / 172 cm

    Age: 18

    Description: Black hair with dark eyes. Once a scrawny kid, Dirk is now a well-built guardsman that commands over a squad of his own.

    Biography: Dirk was barely an adult when he joined the guardsmen, his only goal being that he wanted to protect Yorktown from a threat like the marauders. Dirk is childish, using his time off to play games or go fishing by the piers. He enjoys finding the fun in the little things, especially when his own home had come close to being razed to ash. After a year, Dirk has barely changed. While he is stronger, and his responsibilities have weight, Dirk still tries to find the joy in life. That includes bothering Jonas Harris.

    Jonas Harris

    Height: 5¡¯10 / 177 cm

    Age: 22

    Description: Dark hair that reaches to his ears, accompanied by black eyes. Has the basic build needed for a guardsmen, aside from missing half an arm.

    Biography: Jonas Harris had joined the guardsmen in search of glory and the promise of popularity. While a shallow goal, Harris had proven himself to be a decent bowman, his aim true and his skill respectable. However, the dreams of being an archer residing in the backlines was cut short when he lost half his left arm during the Battle for Yorktown. After nearly dying, Harris¡¯ demeanor and attitude took a turn. He became quiet, less obnoxious, and humble. Even with the handicap, Harris did not quit the guardsmen. He continued to persist, becoming a decent spearman and eventually leading his own squad during the Battle for Vindis. While the events of the past year have changed him, Harris still cracks a couple groan-worthy jokes and always attempts to pick up tavern wenches whenever he visits Vindis. Some habits die hard, after all.

    Nora Haythwood

    Height: 5¡¯4/ 162 cm

    Age: 46

    Description: Despite being in her mid-forties, Nora has managed to retain bits of her youth. Her black hair, while always tied up, extends to the middle of her back. She has dark green eyes lined with crow¡¯s feet and faint wrinkles that extend to her cheeks. Still those are faint and barely noticeable.

    Biography: Back when Yorktown¡¯s council was law, Nora had been its highest ranked member. Using her authority and abusing the power, she had run the town her way for quite some time. Even when the council had consisted of five members, the middle-aged woman had her way regardless. It all changed when James was thrown into the mix. Along with an entire ship¡¯s worth of Lumen soldiers. After the events of the Battle for Yorktown, the council slowly grew redundant. The White Raven clan¡¯s influence grew and eventually took over Yorktown in terms of authority. With that, Nora¡¯s power was taken and she was left as more of an advisor and bookkeeper rather than someone with the authority to exile. Nora is someone who has trouble accepting change, her focus entirely on keeping Yorktown safe through making sure nothing changed or expanded. Even if it meant exiling those who challenge her views. Of course, her behavior has toned down significantly in the past months and her stance on James flipped.

    Otis

    Height: 5¡¯8 / 172 cm

    Age: 60

    Description: A kindly looking old man, balding and with white hair. Withered but still has the energy to do his job as a councilman. Very friendly looking and always smiling

    Biography: Otis had been a councilman for Yorktown for the past thirty years, but his role hasn¡¯t been influential if at all. A pushover if anything actually. Otis is strangely docile, his views on change and politics easily swayed. No one knows anything about him.

    Otis is not important.

    Nathan Arkanus

    Height: 6¡¯2 / 187 cm

    Age: 34

    Description: A tall man with short black hair and usually unshaved stubble. Wears glasses every now and then, the cracked and foggy glass covering his dark brown eyes. Has a light brown complexion, not too dissimilar to Dahlia¡¯s own.

    Biography: Nathan Arkanus is an unconventional Wizard. He has a mysterious origin, his heritage unknown to anyone. While the clothes he wears are familiar, the pins that signify his rank are foreign and shaped differently than the ones used to distinguish Azurvalian Sorcerers. He is self-taught, a feat that is rare and frowned upon. Despite this, he is possibly the most promising spellcaster in all of Valenfrost. Nathan owns a shop deep in the back alleys of Vindis, his clientele ranging from the common thief to the odd adventurer. He shares it with a group of gnomes and a haughty dwarf, all of them managing the shop in their own specialties.

    Nathan is a gifted wizard, his skills mostly unknown and unappreciated. Despite this, he played a crucial role in the Battle for Vindis, his magical prowess enough to tilt the scales just enough.

    Rockford

    Height: 4¡¯11 / 149 cm

    Age: ???

    Description: A broad-shouldered dwarf that seems past his age. Has gray almost white hair that¡¯s usually tied up into a knot. Has a scruffy beard to match.

    Biography: A dwarf working in Nathan Arknus¡¯ shop, Rockford specializes in smithing weapons and armor. He takes pride in his work, especially since he gives a fairer deal than the scammers in the Vindis marketplace. While he does most of the work in his workshop, Rockford has done more than enough to assist James and his journey throughout the year, providing him with his helmet and even the armor he wore during the Battle for Vindis. Rockford is an old dwarf, but his age is unspecified. Regardless, it is rare to see one of his age as most dwarven men either die in battle or retire in the mountains of Horkus during their twilight years. When asked about his home, Rockford replies in only grunts and muttered Fuck Offs before he gets back to work. Despite his seemingly cold nature, the dwarf has proven himself to be someone with bravery, as he helped carry the totem that had decided the fate of Vindis.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    Wheaton

    Height: 4¡¯11 / 149 cm

    Age: 36

    Description: Despite his age, he retains some childish features. Roundish face, big eyes, and his short stature. Regardless, the signs of age are much more obvious. Wheaton¡¯s dark brown hair is slowly graying, bits of it appearing now and then. Heavy bags under his black eyes and more wrinkles becoming visible on his cheeks and forehead.

    Biography: Close friends with Nathan, Wheaton is the brains and manager of the shop. He manages the books, pays the city tax, and budgets what he could. Wheaton is also the one who recruited Rockford and the Artificer gnomes in their business endeavor. Without him, Nathan¡¯s shop would¡¯ve gone under years ago. Wheaton isn¡¯t anything special outside of that. While smart, he is no Sorcerer, or Blacksmith. Not even an Artificer. Wheaton is simply a man good with money and numbers, his efforts helping the shop keep afloat.

    Hilda

    Height: 4¡¯8 / 142 cm

    Age: 24

    Description: Young, with features of a child. Has a roundish face and usually rosy cheeks. Still, there are signs of age in the faint laugh lines and slightly bigger head.

    Biography: Hilda works as an artificer for Nathan¡¯s shop, her talents and efforts going into the many gizmos that lay defected in the front of the shop. Despite the failures, Hilda and her partner, Vin, had come across a few successes. Such as the infamous Razer Rose, which nearly severed many fingers in the process. It worked, but marked the end of any sharp gizmos she would work on in the future. Another success would be the Gnome-Grenade, a small orb that was filled with blast powder provided by her well-known cousins in the north. Unfortunately, she never considered the first shipment of the volatile powder to be the last. After James and Dahlia used them during Frost, Hilda had found out that the powder was the last she¡¯d ever get. Apparently, the powder was incredibly rare and could only be procured in Kasan. Hilda was once a bubbly gnome, her ambition and her love for building fueling her work. However, after the Battle for Vindis, Hilda¡¯s entire world fell. Vin was killed during the fray, his death shocking her into a state of grief.

    Currently, it is unknown if she¡¯ll recover from it.

    Archibald Yevin

    Height: 5¡¯11 / 180

    Age: ??

    Description: Has black hair that¡¯s usually slicked back behind his head. Very young features coupled with a lean build make him look like he¡¯s in his early twenties. Has gray eyes that are a remnant of his bloodline. Clean shaven but not out of choice. Elves don¡¯t naturally grow facial hair.

    Biography: An elf with questionable origins, Archibald seems out of place in the midst of Valenfrost. With his Azurvalian clothing and way of speaking, to his expensive rapier named Delilah. Archibald was a mercenary looking for work in Vindis, his search for a job leading to him being recruited by James and company. Unbeknownst to him, he had fallen into a situation that exceeded past his expectations. Archibald was thrown into battles involving abominable creatures, Lumen Knights, the Marauders of the North, and somehow, even more Lumen soldiers. Despite this, the elf had fought through it all with his trusty rapier, cutting down foes and bravely putting his life on the line. All for the glory and the promise of gold. And perhaps for the attention of women.

    Dimitri Palov

    Height: 5¡¯10 / 177 cm

    Age: 56

    Description: Has a healthy head of hair that¡¯s a pitch black, however his beard is spotted with gray hairs. Has a pale complexion that has been sunburnt by decades of sailing. While visibly friendly, his build is fairly brawny and broad.

    Biography: Dimitri has lived a long life of guiding ship crews and transporting cargo all over Valenfrost. Ever since he was a boy, the shipmaster had loved the smell of the ocean and the feeling of its winds. It was love at first sight.

    As he grew older, Dimitri found himself involved with shady folk all around Valenfrost. From Bernis, to Haven, to even Norum. The shipmaster¡¯s luck had kept him surviving such men, but it had once almost ended one night in Vindis. Thankfully for him, James had been around at the right place and time. After saving his life, James recruited Dimitri and his crew, making them official employees of the otherworldly man. Throughout the months, Dimitri had proven his worth over and over again, sailing headfirst into dangers that would have most captains second guessing. Luckily for him, James was just as brash and bold, sharing his love of adventure and thrill. Nowadays, Dimtri and his crew has grown and split into multiple groups, some servicing and commandeering Draugr¡¯s Haunt whilst he and others sail Frostbite. With the clan growing every day, Dimitri jokes that he¡¯ll someday end up as a fleet admiral.

    Liam Cormac

    Height: 6¡¯4 / 193 cm

    Age: 32

    Description: Tall like a tree and as thin as a pencil. Not a fighter but a damn good wheelman. Has orange hair and pale freckled skin that reddens easily under the sun.

    Biography: Hailing from Northern Azurvale, Liam wished to sail through the Black Sea, wind in his hair as he steered a worthy vessel. Unfortunately, most crews rejected him solely out of prejudice leftover from the Outsider Wars. Not even the Lumen Navy wanted him, due to even more prejudice veered toward the part of Azurvale he was from. Eventually, Liam would run into Dimitri, who was in search of a wheelman after his dropped out. The two instantly hit it off and Liam would go on to prove his skills to the shipmaster. Slowly, throughout the years, they would build a loyal crew that would eventually serve one of the more controversial clans in Valenfrost.

    Lowe Arclite

    Height: 4¡¯8 / 142 cm

    Age: 55

    Description: Despite his gnomish features, age has not been kind to him. Grayish hair and scruffy beard, signs of age along with wrinkles on his forehead and cheeks.

    Biography: Lowe had once been the overseer/mayor of Aldren, watching over the town and island. Assigned to this task by Yorn Halvorson himself, Lowe was to protect the island and keep its hidden vault from discovery. Of course, this task persisted even after Yorn ¡®cleared¡¯ out the vault. His life would soon be upended when orcs raided the island, pillaging Aldren and taking the people he had sworn to protect. Unable to do anything, Lowe hid in the town for weeks until he too was found out and taken. Thankfully for him, he was rescued by James¡¯ group of mercenaries and allies. Lowe would then go on to assist Seamus and his group to recover an artifact of great significance, all the while accidentally assisting in burning the island down.

    Lowe is a gnome who carries a huge burden of guilt with him, all of it stemming from his failures as Aldren¡¯s protector. Of course, he does not suffer alone. With his inclusion to the White Raven Clan, Lowe has found a home with those he calls friends.

    Lilith Earling

    Height: 5¡¯8 / 172 cm

    Age: 19

    Description: Has dark red hair that shines brightly under torchlight. Paired with sea-green eyes and pale skin that¡¯s lined with scars of the past. Her build borders between brawn and lean, her focus split between agility and hard hitting strength.

    Biography: Lilith was once the daughter to Derwin and Greta Earling, sister to Isabelle Halvorson. Lilith and her brother had once lived peacefully on the island of Aldren, their home residing on the eastern coast of the island along with other inhabitants. The peace didn¡¯t last long however. Barbarians, assisted by Followers of Chaos, invaded the island a year before the war officially ended. Lilith¡¯s family was slaughtered and she was left as the raid¡¯s sole survivor. In the years following this event, Lilith hid from Aldren¡¯s residents and survived all on her own. She scavenged and hunted, subsisting on the forest and its creatures. For years, Lilith stayed isolated from the rest of the island¡¯s inhabitants, refusing any contact. That was, until the orcs raided. Upon seeing Seamus in danger, something in Lilith changed and she was set on protecting the young man from danger. At first confusing him with her deceased brother, Lilith stayed with Seamus to protect him from mortal danger. This eventually led to her finding a new home in Yorktown, where she made new allies and friends.

    Lilith is a mute, her condition a result of the fateful night that took her family. She communicates through sign language, using specific hand signs that only Seamus and his extended family knew. Despite her naive nature, Lilith is a berserker by heart. Fueled by rage, Lilith strikes her enemies hard and fast, her brutal fighting style honed in after years of living in the wild. While she has recently toned down the brutality and anger, Lilith still has the fire inside of her. She longs to fight, to feel the adrenaline that comes with risking her life. Seamus obviously doesn¡¯t approve.

    Silas

    Height: 6¡¯6 / 198 cm

    Age: 40

    Description: Has the basic strength of an orc, his build rivaling with even some berserkers. Keeps his coarse black hair cut short to his shoulders and his skin without blemish. Has quite good hygiene, better than most humans actually.

    Biography: An orc who has nobility. Silas is the outlier of his clan, his entire demeanor mimicking that of Azurvalian nobles. He has manners, posture, and even the way of speaking down to an artform. Silas once served the brutal Blood-Irk, who had once threatened Aldren with his army of orcs. Of course, their companionship did not end well. After failing to convince Blood-Irk to make peace with the humans of Valenfrost, Silas staged a mutiny. He and several other orcs tried to overthrow the orc chieftain but failed miserably. In the end, the noble orc was jailed and set to be eaten by Blood-Irk himself. Luckily for Silas, however, James had come across him. Silas assisted with James in freeing the prisoners of the orc camp and in return had himself and his allies freed as well. After the events of Aldren, Silas would declare loyalty to James, kickstarting what would eventually become the White Raven Clan. Silas is an orc of honor, treating promises as law and dedicating himself to the tasks he¡¯s assigned to. He has helped tremendously in the time since his recruitment into James¡¯ group. Of course, his contribution isn¡¯t solely on politics. While noble, Silas is more than willing to get his hands dirty when the moment requires it.

    Tahir

    Height: 6¡¯4

    Age: ??

    Description: Hailing from Areno, he has a dark complexion coupled with natural height. Despite being a merchant, he has a broad muscular build, perfect for scaring away any potential thieves.

    Biography: A merchant from Areno, Tahir is a boisterous man who wants nothing more than his trading company to thrive in Valenfrost. After securing a deal with James Holter, Tahir¡¯s business has shot up. In return, the added traffic to Yorktown has revitalized the economy and marketplace. Tahir, while friendly, keeps to himself. He would gladly talk business but the conversation will always end whenever questioned about his personal life.

    Markov

    Height: 5¡¯10 / 177 cm

    Age: ??

    Description: Clearly in his twilight years but never lost the agility of the thief. Lean and thin, with gray hair and trimmed beard. Visible scar on his left cheek, left a long time ago.

    Biography: Markov probably isn¡¯t his real name. A Master Thief who resides in Vindis, Markov¡¯s Thieves Guild was started when he searched and recruited other honorable thieves for planning heists and robberies. It clearly had nothing to do with the fact that he was kicked out of his own guild back in Azurvale. After trying to collect debts on Dimitri Palov, Markov encounters James Holter. After a tense meeting and a dangerous gambit made by James, the two struck a deal to not kill each other. In the end, both sides had found to work with each other and even help to save Vindis together. Markov is a man of second chances, his addiction to gambling probably being the reason why he enjoys risking it all on newcomers and dangerous men. However, the Master Thief doesn¡¯t take too kindly to losing and will probably stab you if you somehow manage to outcheat him in any bets.

    Probably.

    Malik Ymir

    Height: 6¡¯0 / 182 cm

    Age: ???

    Description: Pale skin, a result of years studying indoors and through the dead of night. Has tattoos that run up his arms and end in faint black lines on his face. Has messy blond hair he pushes back, the color muted and lifeless. Has dark eyes whose color is discerning.

    Biography: Malik Ymir is a man of mystery, his studies and strange goals only made stranger by his occupation as a Necromancer. While not a devout follower of Myr, Malik loves the unpredictable and is obsessed with magical anomalies, like James and his bond with Faust. After nearly killing the young Jarl, Malik struck a blood pact with him. He would accompany James on his journeys, assisting him in battle and helping his allies. In return, James would forfeit his body to the Necromancer. No one knows what Malik plans to do when his side of the deal is completed, as it remains to be seen.

    Malik is a wildcard, strange and unpredictable at times. He clearly seeks power but in a strange way. No one knows what his goals are and little know of the power he possesses.

    Falrick

    Height: 6¡¯0 / 182 cm

    Age: 65

    Description: Wispy graying hairs that barely cover his balding head, his beard a mixture of black and gray. Like most Wizards, he is scrawny and unassuming, his strength all contained within the ley lines of his body.

    Biography: Falrick was once Yorn Halvorson¡¯s personal Wizard and was in charge of keeping Aldren¡¯s barrier illusion up. After the events of the Halvorson Raid, Falrick went into hiding. He eventually settled in Aldren, disguising himself as one of the locals before the orcs raided the island. Following Aldren¡¯s fall, Falrick would continue to act as one of the remaining survivors in Yorktown. It was only after Lowe figured him out that he was forced out of hiding. After a confrontation, Falrick submitted and agreed to assist the White Raven Clan. Falrick, despite his cynical view of the world, cares deeply for Seamus and the remnants of the Halvorson clan. While some see him as cowardly for leaving the Halvorson Fort, others justify it by saying that he had no other choice.

    Falrick is an exceptional magic user, his status as Wizard hard earned after years of learning. However, since the loss of his left arm, his abilities have been hindered. Despite this, Falrick still continues to prove himself as a Wizard to be feared and admired.

    Elaine Lune

    Height: 5¡¯6 / 167 cm

    Age: 22

    Description: An average looking girl, with black hair accompanied by grayish-blue eyes. Has the complexion of an Azurvalian native, pale skin that usually turns red under the sun.

    Biography: A plucky bard who has found herself far from her home in Azurvale. Elaine has studied all she knew about the arts and music back in the famous Academy of the Arts back in Lumen City. Shortly after graduation, Elaine embarked on a journey to find a hero to follow and write songs about. Her journey through Valenfrost lasted all of three months before she was stranded in Vindis City. After a few weeks of searching, Elaine finally found her hero. James Holter, a man of danger and adventure. The bard was thrilled to find the man who would fit perfectly in her songs. Of course, not long after formally becoming the Jarl¡¯s bard, Elaine found herself in the middle of a bloody battle that ravaged Vindis.

    In what was supposed to be an adventure and heroic fight for justice, Elaine had experienced horrific realities of death and destruction. While her abilities were vital in assisting the city¡¯s survival, the bard found herself shaken from the experience. Elaine naively had never expected real life to be so brutal.

    Horuk

    Height: 6¡¯8 / 203 cm

    Age: ??

    Description: Strong, even for an orc. Has shoulders the size of boulders, his brawn dwarfing most orcs in his employ. Has coarse black hair that runs down his back, usually braided with trinkets from his hunts.

    Biography: While most orc clans raid and pillage, Horuk had found a better calling in hunting monsters. The orc and those in his clan revel in the hunt of the leviathans and serpents that dwell in the depths of the Black Sea, their ships marked with the bones of their hunts. Horuk has the mindset of a warrior and in some ways, is noble like Silas. Of course, that doesn¡¯t mean his anger doesn¡¯t get in the way of his honor. After all, judgment is always clouded when one sees his own blood.

    <hr>

    Enemies

    Deimos

    Height: 6¡¯8 / 203 cm

    Age: ??

    Description: Brawn that could give most orcs a run for their money. Has the features of a native Valian, light green eyes accompanied by black hair that flows freely to his shoulders. Has a beard that¡¯s either braided by gold rings or simply trimmed to a respectable length.

    Biography: Red Death of the North. King Killer. Marauder. Deimos is a man who is known by different names and titles depending on where in Valenfrost you go. Clad in black armor, Deimos wears a red handprint over his chest, the symbol signifying one¡¯s allegiance to his cause. In some ways, Deimos is more loyal to Valenfrost than even Yorn Halvorson. He despises the Lumen Kingdom and its influence on the northern nation. His cause, while extreme, calls for the unification of Valenfrost by purging those he deems traitors. In his twisted view, traitors include anyone who even interacts with the Lumen Kingdom. He leads the Marauders of the North, a clan consisting of men and women who all believe that Valenfrost should be freed of Lumen influence. Somehow, they had gone unnoticed or ignored by the clans of the north, their influence spreading until it was too late. The Halvorson Raid was seen as the event that shook all of Valenfrost. Deimos had killed Yorn Halvorson, the supposed Conqueror of the North. Following this, Deimos would go on to try and take Vindis City itself before being repelled by both the city¡¯s forces and the White Raven Clan. Deimos, while brutal and efficient, has one known weakness. Curiosity. He had spared James Holter, whose act of defiance and defense of Yorktown garnered respect from the Red Death. This respect carried over to their last encounter, during the Battle for Vindis. While most do not know of what was said between the two, many saw how Deimos retreated from the fight, leaving James to claim the city.

    Deimos is a strange case. No one knows his real name or his origin. Only that he appeared years back during the Outsider Wars bearing the name of an old warrior from Valenforst¡¯s Age of Myths.

    Blood-Irk

    Height: 9¡¯10 / 300 cm

    Age: ??

    Description: Insane height coupled with muscles that could kill a leviathan by strength alone. Face is described as malformed by years of battle, resulting in a snout that resembles an undead. A freak of nature.

    Biography: Not much is known about Blood-Irk. Only that his clan of orcs were responsible for the invasion of Aldren. Still, despite little being known about him, Blood-Irk had already proved himself to be a threat that could not be ignored.

    Perhaps it pays to be careful about such a foe.

    The Abomination

    Height: ???

    Age: ???

    Description: Everchanging.

    Biography: If you ever find yourself facing it, pray.

 Recap / Timeline of Events

    To the Rectors of the Lumen Academy for the Arts,

    I hope this letter finally finds you, especially since apparently my last three inquiries were either lost at sea or promptly ignored by the Prefects. Regardless, this will be my final letter. I¡¯m writing to request my degree and formal pin, all required for a professional bard like myself. I know I have earned these items because I¡¯ve both graduated and found myself in the employ of a hero. Now, I know there is a certain¡­stigma around my chosen hero. However, according to past deeds of bards, some of whom have become the Academy¡¯s figureheads, many stories have been sung about men who have done questionable acts. For example, Rector Martin had sung about the deeds of the Barbarian chieftain who had come from Atrox. Granted, the Barbarian was indeed not associated with the ones who raided Valenfrost and Azurvale during the Outsiders Wars but still! The point I want to make is that my chosen hero, James Holter, is the victim of a misunderstanding.

    Let me explain from the beginning.

    Long ago, James Holter was a simple working man from another world called Earth. He lived a fairly normal life, one that soon fell apart. Apparently, the monotony of life and the constant nightmares and visions of the future was too much for him to bear and he snapped. After a violent departure from his old flame and her illicit lover, James would try to find a new start in life. After a car crash (I¡¯m not sure what that is) James found himself wandering to a lake that held history for him. The same lake that would consume him and somehow transport him into Azura, our world. His summoning was the work of Yorktown¡¯s shaman, Dahlia, who had wanted to summon a demon Hero to defend her town from roving bandits. Of course, she didn¡¯t expect for her ritual to summon someone like James, who had been taken from his homeworld. From the muddy details I¡¯ve gathered, they quickly became allies and nothing weird ever happened between them.

    Not long after his arrival, James had found himself amid a conflict that was not his own. The Marauders of the North were threatening Yorktown, looking for Yorn¡¯s last son, Seams Halvorson. Despite common sense, James challenged and fought against their leader, Deimos himself. To no one¡¯s surprise, he was unceremoniously killed by the Red Death, his body left for dead in the town¡¯s courtyard. After his supposed ¡®death¡¯, James would be revived by Dahlia. Using both ritualistic and summoning magic, Dahlia forcibly brought back James to life. However, this did not come without consequence as the ritual implanted a spirit by the name of Faust inside of him.

    Allied with Seamus and Dahlia, James would trek to the other side of the island to find help against the marauders that had placed the entire island under siege. They would soon recruit the likes of Harald Stroud, a former Champion of Azlene herself! Not even a day into our world and James has found himself in the company of legends! How is that not song-worthy?

    Anyway, I digress. James and his new allies obviously didn''t know about Harald¡¯s origins, so their reaction to him wasn¡¯t all grand. After preparing a plan of attack with them, Harald would lead the group back to Yorktown, where they¡¯d set up their ambush on the marauder forces. There, they would recruit Felix Arlo, a guardsman determined to defend his town, and Haggard, a drifter who had found himself in Yorktown at that time. He was probably too drunk to remember, honestly. Anyway, these men, along with a couple of others, would assist James in executing his plan to defend the town from incursion. However, the plan did not go so smoothly. While James and his companions were planning and preparing, something made its presence known. Reports describe it as an abomination to nature, covered in crystals and frostbitten skin. It ate an innocent fisherman named Erik Catcher and subsequently consumed his family. This thing would go on to find its way to Yorktown, where apparently it managed to mentally attack James and ruin any hope of a flawless ambush.

    The fight for Yorktown was short and brutal. Almost all the marauders were killed, one taken prisoner actually. Casualties on the town¡¯s side were fortunately low but tragic. It was said that Seamus Halvorson actually took on an entire group of marauders on his lonesome, all to valiantly defend a shopkeeper who had failed to evacuate on time. James eventually managed to kill off the abominable creature that had found itself in Yorktown. He and Dahlia would finish the fight by killing the marauder¡¯s temporary leader, a man by the name of Havor. After this, James would find himself face to face with Deimos once again, the Red Death seemingly impressed by the Outlander¡¯s work. In a move that some bards deem song worthy , Deimos spared James out of respect and even left him a ship by the name of Frostbite.

    Not long after these events, Yorktown would soon become the target of another ploy. Lumen Knights Gryff Brenwick and Hugo Ardel would arrive at the small island, threatening the populace and sending James out on an illegal quest that tramples on the terms set by Yorn Halvorson and Commander Hammond back during the Outsider Wars! Sorry, I¡¯m getting off-track. James was sent out to three islands to collect samples of the creature that had attacked Yorktown during its siege. Accompanying James were the drunk Haggard, Seamus, Dahlia, and strangely enough a marauder they had taken prisoner. Helen Dunn was spared from her fate by chance, perhaps because Haggard pitied her. Or maybe he just wanted a sparring partner.

    During this journey, James would hire the likes of mercenaries. The ones who would work for cheap of course. Among them were Archibald Yevin, a strange elf that I can¡¯t place where from, Bjorn Farkas, a dwarf who loves the thrill of fighting, Edmund Baker, a stranded Azurvalian far from home, and Miles, a Follower of Chaos. They would fight more crystallized abominations, burning their corpses, and taking their samples. That was the case for the first two islands. However, upon reaching their final destination, they found something else entirely. An island hidden by illusion magic, once owned by Yorn Halvorson himself. Shortly after discovering the island, which held the town of Aldren, James and his group found that it was currently under the control of orcs. These orcs were led by a terrifying chieftain known as Blood-Irk, his brutality and savagery knowing no bounds. After an ambush gone wrong, James and his group split into two and both sides went on separate journeys.

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    Seamus, upon finding out the island¡¯s purpose, ventured out to explore its secrets. On the other hand, James undertook the task of freeing the orc¡¯s prisoners. Both would succeed, as James managed to free the human and orc prisoners while Seamus would uncover a great secret that will be best kept under wraps. At the end of the day, the island was mysteriously set aflame, razing the trees and town to ash. Thankfully for our heroes, they barely escaped with their lives. However, not without recruiting a band of orcs to their just cause. Not long after this short adventure, the group would disband and James was set to return to Yorktown. Unfortunately for him, the Lumen Knights would betray and attempt to kill him. All the while sending their men to burn Yorktown and slaughter its residents.

    In an act of self-defense, James fought back against the Lumen Knights, his victory ending with the demise of Gryff Brenwick and his ally Hugo Ardel. Shortly after this battle for Yorktown, James Holter would go on to form the White Raven Clan, claiming the title of Jarl. Of course, the battle had not come without consequence. The same fight that granted James his cyromancy was also the one that would seal his fate. James Holter would be living on borrowed time in the months following those events. Time before his bond with the spirit Faust ran out.

    Jarl Holter would go on to try and set his clan up so they could survive without him, a noble feat. Of course, during his business endeavors, he came across me. Using my charm and irresistible looks, I convinced him to recruit me as his personal bard. Of course, he also hired a necromancer I guess. Not really important.

    During those endeavors of his, Dahlia and her allies managed to root out Falrick out of hiding. Yes, that Falrick. Famed Wizard of the Halvorson clan. Found disguised as a peasant in the middle of Yorktown of all places. I theorize he was on secret business, possibly seeking out James Holter. James would eventually return to Yorktown, recruiting Wizard Falrick before setting out on another quest. The recruiting of a roving band of Monster Hunters. Of course, they¡¯re not the Monster Hunters from Areno, or the infamous clan from Atrox. These Monster Hunters are made of orcs, all led by their fearless leader Horuk. While I won¡¯t spoil too much, I will say I did witness the exchange between James and Horuk, their duel written down in my chronicle.

    James would soon visit and talk with the Followers of Iendis, strange people who worship the Demigoddess of Fate. I¡¯m not sure what exactly happened, but James had the amazing opportunity to talk with Iendis and even visit the Tree of Fate. A chance that hundreds of bards would kill for. Unfortunately for me thoguh, I never got the chance of chronicling what Holter had seen. You win some and you lose some. Anyway, there was some peace after those events. James would continue to invest in his business dealings, selling illegally naturally produced brew to the Vindis populace. Of course, I played a part in helping his finances by setting up my own plays in Yorktown itself!

    This respite of peace unfortunately did not last long, however. On the night of the Midsommar Festival, the Marauders of the North invaded Vindis. Not just that, but the Lumen Kingdom had also sent their own soldiers to counteract and take over the floating city. It was a battle of attrition that went unnoticed in the south until it was too late. You see, the ley line totems in Vindis were subsequently snuffed out, disabling its alarm and muddling all communications to any nearby clans. The only clan who even knew about the invasion was none other than the White Raven. In an act of bravery, James gathered his forces and raided Vindis to restore the alarm totems and reinforce the city.

    This is where I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard differently. I know of the rumors echoing in the north, about how James had slaughtered Lumen troops and how his allies even killed a Herald of Azlene herself. People say he killed Delphine¡¯s Apostle, Arthur Clarke, who was also an Outlander summoned from Earth. The truth is, he did do those things, but not for the malicious reasons you might think. James actually tried to make peace with the Lumen side of the battle. He attempted to talk things out with Arthur before it all went to hel. While unfortunate, it cannot be understated how vital James¡¯ involvement was in that fight. If it weren¡¯t for him, thousands of innocent lives would¡¯ve been lost and sent to the bottom of the Black Sea.

    Hel, he even united a good portion of the southern clans. While it was black magic and forced upon them, you can¡¯t exactly debate the results, right? What I¡¯m trying to say is that you¡¯ve rejected the bard¡¯s own code. The people make the hero, not the aristocrats or the nobles. Every side has a story to tell and there are no wrong answers.

    I write this to you now while I rest upon the same mountain that summoned James, watching Yorktown¡¯s growth happen in real time. I see how the townsfolk salute their Jarl, their chest puffed up proudly as they happily greet him. I see the new building being constructed for those who wish to live here. I see ships docked at Yorktown¡¯s harbor, their flags flying the colors of Arenian traders and Raven clan insignias. James Holter, while not even he sees it, is a hero to the people here. Isn¡¯t that what a bard is supposed to do? To find a hero to write songs and stories about. To chronicle their adventures and justify their means. Well, I''ll let you chew on that.

    Bard of the White Raven Clan,

    Elaine Lune.

    P.S. I hope you send a response this time. I know you have the resources to do it. I mean, I still get letters from my debtors, asking for student loan payments. This is why I¡¯m attaching the last of my dues to this letter. Maybe the coin will be enough for you lot to actually READ my letters!

 B.4 Chapter 0: Naki

    Far east of Valenfrost¡¯s waters, lay the Abyssal Sea. Named for its bottomless waters and near endless horizon, the sea has laid scourge to hundreds of ships trying to pass through it. The only safe way to traverse it is to keep to its edge and avoid sailing too deep into its waters. South of the Abyssal Sea is Areno, the large continent home to the profitable Merchant¡¯s Guild and the central hub of most traders. East of the Abyssal Sea, and north of Areno¡¯s far eastern edge, is the nation and continent of Kasan. Isolated and shut off from the rest of the world, its influence is spread sparsely around the world of Azura.

    Connecting both Kasan and Areno is the small country of Naki. Peppered with steep mountains and dense forests, Naki inhabits those who were once a part of both Areno and Kasan. Driven away from both sides, they had made the region between the two their own.

    It is here, near a small makeshift camp, that a certain Demigod had taken an interest in visiting.

    <hr>

    Nestled between two small mountains in western Naki, a young woman sleeps next to a dwindling camp fire.

    In the night''s darkness, by the dancing shadows of the camp, something took form. It rose from the dark, its shape like that of a rising welt. It strained and stretched, its height doubling as it wiggled into reality. The shape contorted itself into something that slightly resembled a man, its sides opening up into long, unnatural arms that grasped the air with long spindly fingers. The top of it shifted and opened like a pair of lips, revealing the face of this otherworldly creature. Its face was like that of melting wax, its jaw and cheeks malformed beyond recognition. The beard it wore was clearly fake, the hairs almost resembling rough bristles. The shadows of its hood hid the eyes, their silver glint giving away its beady nature.

    This creature was none other than Thien, son of Myr and the Boatman of Hel. Despite being a deity that was supposedly only to be tasked with transporting the dead, it seemed as if this demigod was more interested in the sleeping woman in front of him.

    Thien slowly crept up to the stranger, not a sound coming from him as he passively floated over to her. The Boatman grinned a wide and toothy smile as he leaned down to the young woman, his breath smelling like sulfur.

    ¡°Wakey Wake¨C¡±

    Thien was interrupted when a dagger was shoved into his right eye, spilling black blood that oozed down the Boatman¡¯s wax-like face. Regardless, he kept his smile.

    ¡°Quite a rude awakening,¡± Thien muttered as he stood up straight, instantly pulling away before the woman before him could grab her dagger. She scowled as the Boatman pulled back, her body keeping close with the fire.

    ¡°Now, now,¡± Thien raised his hands in defense. ¡°That¡¯s not a way to greet an old friend. Naomi.¡±

    ¡°What the hell do you want with me?¡± Naomi called in anger as she stared the boatman down.

    Thien shrugged as he reached up to pull the dagger out of his eye. With a quick motion, he ripped it out, spattering more black matter everywhere. There were even small sizzles that accompanied the blood, its viscous and sulfuric nature burning everything it touched.

    ¡°Thought I¡¯d catch up with my best friend, Naomi Miller,¡± Thien explained as he tossed the dagger aside. His right eye healed as fast as it was injured, the silver glare of his gaze returning in no time. The Boatman floated right over to Naomi, who continued to glare at him.

    ¡°How¡¯s it going, Naomi?¡± Thien said with beaming positivity. ¡°Naki treating you well? Better than Kasan, right?¡±

    Naomi gritted her teeth at the sight of him, her lone eye glaring at him with a resounding vitriolic hatred.

    ¡°Good to see you¡¯re still alive and kicking!¡± Thien exclaimed happily. ¡°Especially after that entire exile thing¡ª¡±

    A long knife the size of his forearm was then shoved deep into Thien¡¯s jaw, its tip poking out through his nose. Or what resembled his nose.

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    ¡°Fuck. You,¡± Naomi seethed.

    ¡°Ah classic Naomi,¡± Thien chuckled as he pointed finger guns. Without a word, Naomi ripped the blade out of his face. Like before, the wound closed as fast as it appeared, leaving no visible marks. ¡°Always the funny one, huh? Now put that down before you hurt yourself with it.¡±

    Naomi scowled and complied, her hand tossing the long blade to the side. ¡°It was worth a shot.¡±

    ¡°Doubtful,¡± Thien said as he shifted to the other side of the camp, where the Outlander kept her things. He poked through it with his long finger. ¡°Packing lightly or not at all?¡±

    ¡°I have most of my stuff stashed away,¡± Naomi muttered. ¡°Just in case.¡±

    ¡°Hm,¡± Thien pondered over her words, his beady eyes looking off to the starry night sky. Without a warning, he reached into the dark shadows of the night, his arm disappearing. After a moment, he pulled back a large rucksack that clanged as it hit the ground.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Naomi shouted. ¡°That stuff is supposed to last me for a few more months here!¡±

    ¡°No, it won¡¯t,¡± Thien wagged his finger. ¡°Not in Naki.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Naomi questioned. ¡°What are you¡­? Oh. Oh no! No no no!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here to propose a quest for you!¡± Thien called out with outstretched arms. He was met with a thrown bottle, which he dodged rather quickly.

    ¡°Fuck off!¡± Naomi shouted. ¡°I¡¯m not taking another of your quests! Not after everything you put me through!¡±

    ¡°I put you through?¡± Thien¡¯s eyes shifted horizontally. ¡°The choices you made were yours alone. The consequences of those are yours to bear. Not mine.¡±

    ¡°Like I had a choice?¡± Naomi burst. ¡°You ripped me from my world and promised me a better life. Threw me into Kasan with nothing more than a hundred silver and cheap clothes! In the midst of Frost, nonetheless!¡±

    ¡°If I recall, you were the one who¡¯d made the choice to come here,¡± Thien pointed out. ¡°I promised you a way out and you took it. Besides, it wasn¡¯t as if it was all for nothing. Look at you! You were trained by the best swordsmen and shinobi in the world and turned out to be one of the strongest Outlanders to-date! Even if Iendis considers you a failure, you¡¯re still my favorite.¡±

    ¡°You motherfuck¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s besides the point, anyway,¡± Thien interrupted. ¡°This is a quest that I know you¡¯ll die for. It involves the man who was behind the Tyok Incident.¡±

    Naomi stared at Thien, her expression turning from confusion to realization, and finally to complete shock. Thien knew exactly what she was thinking. He knew Naomi wasn¡¯t stupid enough to believe that he was lying to her. She knew better than to think that the Boatman would waste his time in pulling pranks in the mortal realm.

    ¡°What do you want out of this?¡± Naomi finally muttered. ¡°I know you wouldn¡¯t bring me this information if it meant that Myr would get nothing from it.¡±

    ¡°Perceptive and thoughtful of the God of Chaos,¡± Thien chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re my favorite.¡±

    ¡°Just tell me.¡±

    ¡°There is a man in Valenfrost, an Outlander like yourself,¡± Thien explained. ¡°James Holter. He¡¯s the one who will lead you to the man responsible for Tyok. As for what¡¯s in it for me, well¡­ let¡¯s just say he ranks above you in Daddy¡¯s list of favorite mortals.¡±

    ¡°What, you want me to protect him?¡± Naomi asked. Her tone of voice had changed to cold anger. It seemed like she had misunderstood the Boatman¡¯s explanation. There was no doubt in Thien¡¯s mind that she believed the Outlander to be allied with the ones who caused the incident in Tyok.

    ¡°No. Nothing like that,¡± Thien said. ¡°All Myr wants is chaos. If we actively try to keep our pieces alive, then it desaturates the game and makes it predictable. Do what you want. Regardless of what happens, Myr would surely be pleased.¡±

    ¡°Even if I kill him?¡± Naomi muttered. ¡°None of you would mind that?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d prefer it if you didn¡¯t,¡± Thien responded, his grin growing wider. ¡°But then again, he could be someone who deserves it. Who knows? Your quest is to simply cut the head off the man who is behind the Tyok Incident. Do that, and I¡¯ll grant whatever request you might have left.¡±

    Naomi only stared at Thien, her one eye covered by the shadows of her blindfold.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take the quest. But know this,¡± Naomi picked up her long knife from earlier. She cleaned its edge off the sleeve of her shirt. ¡°If I find out that he¡¯s anything like those followers of chaos. Or if he¡¯s even slightly affiliated with them or that bastard from Tyok. I will end him.¡±

    ¡°End him, huh?¡± Thien asked. He felt more than a little amused at her spiel.

    Naomi scowled, her blade returning to its sheath.

    ¡°I will kill James Holter if it means getting to my quest¡¯s end.¡±

 B.4 Prologue: Aftermath

    The early morning light cascaded all over the buildings and streets of Vindis, with remnants of rain still pattering over the city. Regardless, no water would be enough to wash out the blood that stained the streets.

    Gutters filled with red gunk, canals littered with corpses, and buildings still smoking from the flames that once engulfed them.

    While the danger was now absent, the damage was far from gone. Amidst the city, many were trying to recover. Injured folks who still clung to life as they were pulled from rubble. Guardsmen doing their best to regroup and direct citizens to safe spots. Healers feeding vitality potions to the weak. People counting the dead.

    In the middle of it all was a lone Jarl, one who was coming to terms with this bloodied aftermath.

    <hr>

    James looked down at the corpse of Harald Stroud, whose blank eyes stared off into the sky, a gaping wound in his forehead. Next to Harald was Bjorn¡¯s body, the dwarf¡¯s figure covered in a bloodied blanket. They were brought here by other guardsmen, along with the bodies of countless other men and women who had fallen during the battle.

    James stared at the bodies in disbelief. This wasn¡¯t real. No, this was just a dream. A fate conjured by a mad God.

    ¡®James. They¡¯re gone.¡¯

    Faust¡¯s voice rang out in his head, reminding the man that this was real. It was not a hallucination or a vision. It was reality.

    ¡°James?¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice rang out behind James, snapping him from his trance. The disheveled blond man turned to Dahlia, who was still wearing her plate armor. She looked like hell, her short hair matted and stained with blood. Her left hand was bandaged, but James could still see the glaring red stain in the dirty gauze. The same went for the wound at her side.

    They had grouped together after the battle¡¯s end, helping the rest of their wounded to the harbor. Only once they got there did James see the cost of their fight. Bodies were lined up at the harbor, ranging from fellow guardsmen to honorable thieves who fought with them. There were people that James knew: Harald, Bjorn, and even a couple of guardsmen he used to train with. They were dead.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Seamus?¡± James forced himself to say. He had just realized that his friend wasn¡¯t accounted for. He had hoped to regroup with him at the harbor. James didn¡¯t even think about the chances that he was dead or worse¡ªnot until now.

    Dahlia perked up at the question, her amber-colored eyes reaching the same conclusion as he had.

    ¡°He¡¯s in the Gold District with Haggard and the Wizards. I didn¡¯t think anything would happen to them, but¡­¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice trailed off, her eyes widening as she focused on something else. James turned to where she was looking, his heart skipping a beat.

    There were guardsmen and thieves carrying bodies into the harbor. Bodies that James himself recognized.

    Haggard was covered in blood and wounds, his body carried on a stretcher. The two thieves carrying him were guided by another familiar face, one whose red robes were torn and singed.

    ¡°There! Near the raven ship! Bring him and the other two there!¡± Nathan looked like hell, half of his face covered in blood and bandages. More men followed the Wizard, carrying two more bodies.

    The first was Falrick, and his robes were also torn and bloodied¡ªso bloodied, in fact, that it took James a moment longer to realize that the Wizard¡¯s left arm was gone.

    The second man was none other than Seamus. He wore dirtied bandages on his legs and arms, his torso covered in gauze, and his head sporting a nasty cut. He was also the only one conscious, his green eyes widening at the sight of James and Dahlia. Seamus reached out almost instinctively, his mouth opening to speak.

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    James rushed ahead, coming to his friend¡¯s side. Dahlia followed right behind, accompanying the injured man on his right.

    ¡°Are you alright?!¡± James almost shouted in worry.

    ¡°I¡­I¡¯m fine,¡± Seamus answered. He sounded hoarse like he had lost his voice. The young man even had the energy to force a smile. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you two are alright. I¡¯m... happy to see you two again.¡±

    Before James could say anything, Nathan pulled them both away.

    ¡°He needs to rest,¡± the Wizard explained as he grabbed both their arms. James clenched his jaw and almost wanted to argue. Yet he held back. Nathan was more than correct. Seamus needed rest for now. James could only watch as the two guardsmen carried the young man to where the healers were.

    ¡°What happened to you guys?¡± James asked.

    ¡°It was a hellish fight,¡± Nathan muttered. ¡°We ran into one of Deimos¡¯ enforcers. Eli, I believe, was his name. Nearly killed all of us. Would¡¯ve killed all of us had it not been for Seamus taking his head off.¡±

    ¡°He did what?¡± James blinked at that. ¡°Was he¡­?¡±

    ¡°He was fully conscious,¡± Nathan revealed. "Towards the end of the fight, when we were losing, he got up and managed to pull through. Even poisoned, Seamus was fast. I had never seen anything like it.¡±

    The Wizard sighed, his hand rubbing at the bandage on his head. ¡°I must go. The healers will need my help.¡±

    ¡°I can go help you with the injured,¡± Dahlia suggested. Nathan gave a nod before he headed off. Dahlia looked back at James. ¡°Go and rest, please. After what we all went through¡­¡±

    ¡°I can help,¡± James offered as he grabbed her hand. Despite everything, he wanted to keep going¡ªeven after nearly dying and fighting for hours. He wanted to do something. Anything.

    Dahlia gave him a soft smile, her hand squeezing his. ¡°You already did help. Rest, James. You¡¯ve done enough.¡± With that, Dahlia left, her eyes breaking contact with James as she headed off to help Nathan.

    James stood there, alone. The only thing accompanying him in the harbor was his thoughts and the bodies of everyone who had died. James couldn¡¯t help but glance back at the rows of dead. He focused on some of the men he knew, the ones who were once guardsmen back at Yorktown, the ones he had sparred with back in that dirt-covered training ground. He stared at the painted ravens on their chests, their once-white wings stained with red.

    He had done this.

    ¡®It¡¯s not your fault.¡¯ Faust said.

    ¡®Shut up.¡¯ James shot back.

    ¡®James¡­¡¯

    ¡®I said shut it.¡¯

    James shoved Faust¡¯s voice to the back of his head. He took a deep, shaky breath and looked up at the sky. Dawn was slowly making itself known, the sun¡¯s light tinting the sky a purplish orange color. As if on instinct, James reached into his armor¡¯s pockets, his fingers grabbing onto a blossom he had kept on him. It was once pink and glowing, showcasing a perfect future for him. It was the perfect future for him.

    Now, however, the blossom was pitch black. It felt coarse and fragile, almost like it was beginning to deteriorate already. It was the sign of a dead future, one that would never come true. James stared at the blossom, his mind returning to the words of a mad demigod.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°The more you deny death, the more you avoid it, the heavier your side of the scale becomes. At some point, the scales will rebalance, and they will take whatever is necessary to keep you in check.¡±

    </blockquote>

    James'' future was gone. His mentor and friend, dead. His close dwarven companion, dead. Countless allies, all dead. It was the price he had paid for defying death a second time. James wanted to scream. He wanted to curse Iendis. Curse Myr. Curse the Gods who placed him here. Yet he held back those frustrations.

    Instead, James buried it all. He shoved these feelings deep into his soul. Locked it all away without a second thought. He needed to keep a cool head. James needed to stay calm. His people needed him. His surviving friends needed him. Dahlia needed him.

    With that in mind, James Holter turned and headed to the city. Dahlia would hate him for this, but he did not care. People needed help, and James was more than willing to lend a helping hand.

 B.4 Chapter 1: Raid

    1

    White Raven

    ¡°The battle is won, and my father¡¯s rule has fragmented. However, since his fall, clans that were once part of his rule now roam Valenfrost waters unchecked. While troublesome, I sincerely have no doubts that they will eventually call for peace and perhaps even alliances soon. I am in no rush. I do not plan to willingly charge into another conflict, to become another warlord such as my father, all because my territory doesn¡¯t expand beyond the west and the south. Despite being temporarily weakened¡ªresources low¡ªwe are high in spirit, and we plan to have peace talks with Redyr and Falk. I hope we can form an alliance, for I fear peace will be far from our grasp if we cannot even ally ourselves with the other big clans. There is always the option of forcing them into being our allies. Still, the idea alone makes me sick with memories of my own father doing the same. I am not like him. I vow to be better than him, just as I promised to my wife, Isabelle. With her and Einar by my side, perhaps Valenfrost shall be peaceful once more¡ªjust like the days of myths and legends¡ªjust like how they should be.¡±

    <hr>

    FOUR MONTHS AFTER MIDSOMMAR

    ¡°Charge!!¡±

    Dirk Andal flinched at the order, his gaze moving to the man who shouted it. He watched a burly man take charge, his hammer swinging as he charged ahead. Despite being unable to see past the man¡¯s steel helm, Dirk recognized the man as Haggard, one of the Jarl¡¯s trusted friends and one of the raven clan¡¯s strongest.

    Haggard rushed ahead of Dirk, his hammer already trained on the first orc he saw. The brute barely had enough time to react before the hammer¡¯s bulky head caved into his skull. Crimson fluid and gray matter stained the hammer as it bashed the orc, Haggard¡¯s foot already raising to kick the dead orc away.

    Dirk felt sick at the grizzly sight but didn¡¯t dare falter his charge as he followed behind Haggard. He kept his spear at the ready, his left arm raising his shield as he moved ahead with his troop of fellow ravens.

    They were all on the frontline of their charge on the beach, their target being the settlement of Aldren up ahead¡ªat least, what was supposed to be left of it. Ash and black sand covered most of the shoreline and forest ahead, with remnants of burnt Vern trees. Snow also covered most of the scenery, turning the ground beneath them into a dark gray slush, the ash staining everything black.

    Regardless of most of the island being burnt to cinders, there were orcs here. Ones who were attempting to keep hold of it. Dirk recalled when Jarl Holter had debriefed them on the island and its inhabitants. The orcs were supposedly led by a big one named Blood-Irk. A monster of a creature who would do anything to keep a foothold here. Dirk was more than a little nervous about possibly meeting him.

    The young man took a deep breath and trudged ahead, his spear up. He could see the battle up ahead, other men and women clashing their shields and spears against the orcs who held the treeline or whatever was left of it. Dirk moved up, ready to assist. Before he could, however, he was suddenly knocked to the ground. Tar-like mud stained his gambeson and clothes, and the young man¡¯s spear nearly flew out of his hand.

    Dirk looked up from his position on the ground only to see a towering orc, its hand preparing a swing with its club.

    ¡°Oh shit!¡± Dirk scrambled to raise his shield, adrenaline rushing into his blood as he tried to kick himself away from the orc. The mud didn¡¯t help in that regard. If anything, it made things worse. The young man slipped and squirmed, his shield up as he tried to make himself small.

    Dirk watched in fear as the club swung down, its trajectory aiming to hit him straight on. Before it could, however, someone jumped in.

    The club made contact with steel, its momentum stopped with a loud thwack. Dirk blinked. In front of him was a man dressed in blue and black. He wore a dented steel cuirass, a layer of chainmail sandwiched between it, and a dark bluish gambeson. He had on a steel helm, chainmail covering the lower half of his face and head. His clamshell gauntlets held a longsword in both hands, its blade blocking the club aimed at Dirk.

    The young man couldn¡¯t help but stare in awe at the sight of James Holter, Jarl of the White Raven clan. The otherworldly man was going toe to toe with an orc that was already half a meter taller than him. Yet there were no signs of struggle or danger. The Jarl stared at the attacking orc, his head shifting slightly towards Dirk.

    ¡°Fall back. I can take care of this,¡± Holter called back. Dirk quickly nodded and did his best to crawl out of the mud he was stuck in. By the time he was out, he was helped up to his feet by another familiar face, this one being his current mentor.

    ¡°Get to Haggard and help! He¡¯s already breaking the front line!¡± Helen Dunn shouted, her hand gesturing to where Haggard was. Dirk nodded and quickly moved. But not before he took one last glance at James.

    The Jarl was still contesting with the orc, who towered over him. Dirk would¡¯ve stayed to watch the fight, but he knew that Helen would most certainly punish him if he didn¡¯t get his ass moving. The young man moved on from the encounter, his weapon up as he charged to the frontline.

    <hr>

    James stared at the orc before him, their gazes locked in.

    ¡°So you¡¯re the man Blood-Irk so desperately wants dead,¡± the orc snarled.

    James couldn¡¯t help but chuckle.

    ¡°Yeah, something like that.¡± Without warning, James pulled back his longsword, his gauntlets shifting to grip it properly. He swung an overhead strike at the orc, aiming to hit his exposed head. The orc blocked quickly with his crude club, the strike between the two weapons sounding out once more.

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    James grinned, his hands forcing the interconnected weapons down. The sudden movement was enough to trip up the orc, who didn¡¯t have enough time to react before James shoved his sword past the club. The sword¡¯s tip pierced through the brute¡¯s face with a sickening shink, sending specks of blood everywhere.

    The orc stumbled back from the surprise attack, his club dropping as he clutched to his bleeding face. James stepped forward, his sword hefted up on his shoulder. He prepared for a swing, his muscles burning as he cast his spell.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡±

    James could feel how he spent up one of his reserves, his ley lines tanking the cost. His body burned with an immense heat as it was enhanced, his arms tensing up as they swung the long sword. The blade cut through the chilly air with speed, its trajectory towards the brute in front of James.

    The orc tried to repel the attack with an arm, but it was for naught. James¡¯ sword sliced through the brute¡¯s arm, slicing past the elbow and towards the exposed neck. The orc had no time to react before his head was promptly lopped off.

    James panted heavily as he watched the orc fall down like a sack of flour, his head rolling onto the black mud. He could feel the cold steel of his helm stick to his forehead as he brought his sword back up.

    ¡®One down.¡¯

    Footsteps then sounded off to his left, prompting the Jarl to quickly turn. There was another orc, one who had broken from the frontline to come fight James. James gritted his teeth as he prepared to counter the oncoming orc. Just as he was about to meet the rushing brute, another figure rushed in to join.

    Helen had stepped in, her shield raising to bash the orc. It worked, as it knocked the brute off balance. Using this moment of weakness, Helen lunged forth with her spear, its tip running through the orc¡¯s throat. With a shout of effort, the veteran ripped the sharp tip out of her foe, opening his throat and finally finishing him off.

    ¡°I had him,¡± James breathed.

    ¡°Clearly,¡± Helen huffed as she stood up straight. She was still wearing her old leather armor from when she was a marauder. Now, however, instead of displaying the red handprint of Deimos, there was a great white raven painted onto its chestpiece.

    ¡°The line has been broken!¡± Haggard¡¯s voice shouted out through the air. James turned to the ashy treeline, watching as the older man raised his hammer in victory. He watched as the other Ravens joined his cheer, their weapons raising as they rushed forth.

    James himself felt a bit of pride at watching the commotion, his body feeling as if it could go for another few rounds. Before he could join the bigger fight, however, a hand grabbed his shoulder.

    ¡°Fall back, my Jarl,¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice called out. James turned to see the shaman right behind him, her hand pulling him back. ¡°You can¡¯t be fighting at the front.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine, don¡¯t¨C¡±

    ¡°No excuses. A Jarl cannot put himself in so much risk. Especially in the midst of battle,¡± Dahlia interrupted. ¡°You¡¯ve done enough for now. Stay back and be a good commander.¡± She gave him a sly smile as she stepped up, her hands forming runes.

    ¡°Light Carapace: Fifteen Fold!¡± Dahlia cast one of her new spells, the runes for it disappearing as soon as she spoke its words of power. James watched as blue auras of magic covered and supported multiple Ravens in the frontlines, acting as protection.

    ¡°Not bad, Astera. Not bad,¡± a voice muttered behind James. The young Jarl turned around to see an old man standing right beside him, his right hand stroking his white beard. He recognized this elder as none other than Falrick, a former Wizard who had once served Yorn Halvorson. Falrick was wearing his pointed hat, its golden star-shaped pins presenting him as a high-ranking spellcaster.

    ¡°You¡¯re here to gawk, or are you going to help out?¡± James sarcastically remarked.

    ¡°Please. Dahlia can handle it,¡± Falrick chuckled. ¡°Besides, rank two spells are still quite hard for me to form. Even with the new hand.¡± The Wizard pulled up his left sleeve, showcasing steel, and springs that vaguely resembled an arm and hand. This was Falirck¡¯s new prosthetic arm, a gift from the gnomes back in Vindis. It wasn¡¯t exactly ideal, as the stiff metal fingers couldn¡¯t properly form runes or symbols needed for a spellcaster.

    ¡°Just use a staff?¡± James suggested. ¡°Nathan uses one.¡±

    ¡°My old staff was destroyed back during Midsommar,¡± Falrick muttered bitterly. ¡°To get a new one is going to take some time. Especially with how the state of things are right now.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you just¡­ buy a new one?¡± James wasn¡¯t sure of the price of such magical items but he had seen staffs and wands for sale at the Vindis marketplace. Nathan himself sold such things himself.

    ¡°Buy one? From those swindlers at Vindis?¡± Falrick scoffed. ¡°Besides, buying staffs is equivalent to purchasing random armor from scavvers. Any self-respecting Wizard wouldn¡¯t do such a thing.¡±

    James furrowed his brow. He almost wanted to silently judge the Wizard for acting high and mighty. Still, he couldn¡¯t find it within himself to argue. He instead focused on the battle ahead, watching as his ravens pushed through. Accompanying them were the orcs under Silas¡¯ and Horuks¡¯ command, their crude armor wrapped in blue sashes. The same ones that the guardsmen in Yorktown once used. Now, the color represented the White Raven clan and those who allied with them.

    ¡°For the Draugr!¡± One orc shouted in glee as he pushed ahead, his ax rising high in the air. James couldn¡¯t help but cringe at that.

    ¡®Never going to get used to that,¡¯ he idly thought.

    ¡®It¡¯s pretty humorous if you ask me,¡¯ Faust commented with amusement.

    James sighed at the voice in his head, which belonged to the spirit implanted into his body more than a year back.

    ¡®Has it really been that long?¡¯ James thought to himself once more. He silently counted the months. It was currently Yelon, the last month on the Azuran calendar. The New Year Transition wasn¡¯t even that far away. Accounting for the stunted years in this world and the extended days in some months, it had been a little over a year since his summoning.

    ¡®Time moves quite fast, doesn¡¯t it?¡¯ Faust said.

    James was about to answer the Centurion before he was interrupted by a hand patting his shoulder. The sheer force was almost enough to knock him off balance.

    ¡°Are you ready to follow your men into victory?!¡± a loud boisterous voice called out. James turned to see Horuk, the leader of the orcs charging into battle. He was the clan leader of a small monster-hunting group of orcs. Well, sorta. Ever since his group had integrated into James¡¯ clan, Horuk was more or less in charge of keeping his people in order and commanding their raiding parties whenever the occasion arose.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± James answered the orc¡¯s question with a smile despite knowing that his helm¡¯s chainmail hid his facial features. His current armor was a courtesy of Rockford, a dwarf from Nathan¡¯s shop. It was cheap and reliable, and it protected him well. James would have worn his armor from the Battle for Vindis, but that set was still mangled and damaged from the battle. It still needed more time in the shop, according to Rockford. Still, James did not complain. As long as his current armor protected him, he didn¡¯t care.

    ¡°All Ravens, charge ahead! We¡¯re about to break their defenses!¡± Horuk shouted. James couldn¡¯t help but chuckle as he hefted his sword up, his focus on the treeline ahead.

    ¡°To victory!¡± James shouted. With that, he and his Ravens rushed ahead, ready to take back Aldren.

 B.4 Chapter 2: Parley

    As it turned out, the orc¡¯s defenses were next to nil. James and his forces had little to no trouble forcing through their outpost wall. If it could be called a wall. It was a shoddily made palisade, its construction hasty and haphazard. It was more of a wooden fence rather than an actual defensive structure.

    Once his forces got through that hurdle, the orcs surrendered more or less. The ones who weren¡¯t shameless enough to surrender simply ran off, leaving their allies to James¡¯ mercy. Thankfully for them, James wasn¡¯t in the mood to slaughter every living thing in his warpath. Instead, he took them as prisoners, leaving them to Horuk¡¯s orcs to restrain them properly.

    Still, that didn¡¯t mean every orc was compliant in cowering or surrendering. At least not peacefully.

    ¡°What¡¯s the update?¡± James asked once he grouped up with Haggard. The hammer-wielding warrior was currently wiping down his weapon of choice, his rag stained with red as he polished.

    ¡°There¡¯s an orc calling for parley. Their leader, from the looks of it. Helen is currently watching him with the rest of the men,¡± Haggard said.

    ¡°Not Blood-Irk, I assume?¡± James asked. He had a feeling that the orc calling for a parley was certainly not the same one that nearly killed him and his friends more than a year back.

    ¡°One of his closer lieutenants, judging from the armor and war paint,¡± Haggard confirmed. ¡°Word of advice. Don¡¯t deal with him. If that scum serves Blood-Irk, then nothing good comes from what he offers. Kill him and get it over with.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll consider it,¡± James muttered as he walked past Haggard. He kept his stride to where everyone was converging, his hands shifting his longsword into its sheath. The guards and orcs were all forming a mob circle around the center of the outpost, where a red flag flew on its pole. James took a look at the flag, spotting what looked to be Blood-Irk¡¯s coat of arms.

    It was a crude drawing of what looked like a crossbreed of a dinosaur and a hawk skull, its serrated beak open as if to sound out a cry. It was the skull of a raptor, a carnivorous flying bird that was native to Azurevale and Northern Valenfrost. James remembered seeing a ¡®tamed¡¯ one in Vindis. Or at least, what was supposed to be a tamed raptor. It had torn off its handler¡¯s hand then and had to be muzzled to keep it from trying the same thing with bystanders.

    James stared at the drawing for a bit, a little uneasy at how similar in quality it looked compared to his White Raven emblem. He shook off that feeling of eeriness. He needed to steel himself.

    With his back straight and his steps pronounced, the young Jarl walked through the crowd of guards and orcs. Everyone parted for him, and the air went silent as James walked. The only sounds were the sound of his steel-toe boots on wet mud and the murmurs of those around him.

    James soon made his way to the center of the commotion, where he was met with a group of orcs. Like their fallen allies, they wore rusted iron armor, the plates held together by wire and rope. While they didn¡¯t bear Blood-Irk¡¯s emblem, their red warpaint signified otherwise.

    The tallest of the orcs was the only one to bear the symbol of the raptor skull, his armor much more sophisticated than the others. He wore blackened steel¨Cyet not to the extent that it covered every part of his body¨Clike Blood-Irk. His facial features were also much cleaner and sharp. Similar to Silas, this orc¡¯s underbite was much less pronounced. His teeth weren¡¯t even poking out like most orcs.

    His coarse hair was brushed back, allowing James to see the red warpaint he wore. This orc had painted the outline of a skull over his face, similar to what Blood-Irk had. He stared at James with a look of reprieve.

    ¡°James,¡± Dahlia¡¯s voice took James¡¯ attention away from the orc. He looked over at the Shaman, who stood within the crowd of soldiers. She looked more than a little hesitant.

    ¡°Something bothering you?¡± James asked.

    ¡°This feels more than a bit dangerous. Negotiating with an orc that¡¯s affiliated with Blood-Irk,¡± Dahlia muttered. ¡°I know I can¡¯t stop you, so I¡¯ll only ask you one thing. Be careful. Keep in mind that this isn¡¯t just any negotiation.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± James said. ¡°I always come out on top, don¡¯t I?¡±

    He flashed the Shaman a grin, even as the chainmail on his helmet hid his facial features. Despite that, Dahlia visibly narrowed her gaze at him.

    ¡°Just do your job, my Jarl,¡± she sighed in disbelief.

    James nodded and turned his gaze to the orc at the center. He slung his longsword¡¯s sling over his shoulder, letting it rest on his back. He wouldn¡¯t need to use it. James moved his gloved hands to his helmet, undoing the straps and taking it off. The chainmail clinked as the helm was lifted off and put aside.

    Despite his shoulder-length hair being tied up, it still loosened up as the helm was removed. In the sparse light of the day, sweat glistened off his blond hair and forehead. James couldn¡¯t help but sigh in relief at the cool air. While it protected him, the helmet granted little in comfort and ventilation.

    ¡°I take it you¡¯re the Draugr?¡± the orc called out. He gave James a judging look, his dark eyes examining the clan leader. ¡°I expected someone truly deserving of Blood-Irk¡¯s ire. A true warrior, so to speak.¡±

    ¡°Well, you can¡¯t expect the unexpected,¡± James responded with a smile. He attached his helm to the side of his belt as he approached the center. ¡°So I hear you wanted to talk?¡±

    ¡°My name is Blood-Ohm,¡± the orc introduced himself. ¡°And yes, I wished to parley with you. To offer a deal of sorts.¡±

    ¡°A deal, huh?¡± James scratched at his beard. ¡°You are aware there are terms you must agree to, yes? Before you are allowed to serve in my clan.¡±

    Blood-Ohm raised an eyebrow. ¡°Serve?¡± the orc laughed at that. ¡°No, I am not here to grovel and beg for your grace. I called for a meeting with you to simply propose one offer.¡±

    ¡°An offer?¡± James didn¡¯t like where this was going. ¡°Am I right to assume that it has something to do with that ax you have?¡± He gestured to Blood-Ohm¡¯s stowed weapon, which stuck out at the orc¡¯s hip. His hand was already resting on its sharp iron head.

    ¡°Perceptive,¡± Blood-Ohm chuckled as he unhitched his weapon. ¡°I, Blood-Ohm, challenge you to a duel, Holter!¡± the orc proclaimed. His simple challenge was enough to make the crowd murmur and whisper amongst each other. More specifically, James¡¯ own orcs were the ones doing the muttering.

    James raised an eyebrow. Blood-Ohm was using this as a chance to force the clan leader into a one-on-one fight. Exploiting the orcs¡¯ natural mentality of strength versus strength. James knew of this hierarchy well. He used it to gain the respect of Horuk¡¯s orcs last Sommar. Orcs respected strength and the tradition of duels to challenge it.

    ¡°If I win against you, the orcs you command shall be given the chance to rejoin Blood-Irk¡¯s ranks!¡± Blood-Ohm called out. The orc pointed his ax towards James.

    ¡°And if I win?¡± James called back.

    Blood-Ohm laughed at that. ¡°If you do manage to win, then I suppose my and my orc¡¯s lives are in your hands. Free for you to command over or execute if you wish.¡± He said it with the confidence someone would have towards a childish dream.

    James sighed. ¡°Fine. Not like I have much of a choice anyways.¡± It wasn¡¯t like he could reject the offer. Doing so would paint him as a coward to the other orcs, Horuk included. No, James would have to get his hands dirty.

    Blood-Ohm raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the nonchalant answer James gave. ¡°You dare mock my challenge?¡± He asked.

    ¡°No, no mocking,¡± James responded. He was doing his best not to show any sign of amusement at the orc¡¯s anger. The young clan leader slipped off his longsword¡¯s sheath from his back, his hands handing the weapon to Dahlia.

    ¡°James¡­¡± she started.

    ¡°Not really a choice,¡± James murmured a response as he shifted his short sword¡¯s sheath in place at his side. ¡°This is something I have to do.¡±

    Without looking at the Shaman¡¯s reaction to his words, James focused his attention on the orc in front of him. Blood-Ohm¡¯s own comrades had backed off to give him space, leaving their leader to practice his ax swings. James took a deep breath as he placed his helmet back onto his head, the chainmail clinking as it rested over the lower half of his face.

    ¡°Are you really going to use that pathetic excuse of a weapon against me?¡± Blood-Ohm asked.

    James gave a nod as he unsheathed his signature short sword, its sharpened edge glinting almost. It was the same one that had once been embedded in his chest all those months ago. The same one Deimos had used to nearly kill James. It had been with the man for some time now, being his primary go-to weapon for almost every fight. It strangely had an almost sentimental value to him.

    The longsword he had been using was simply a weapon he had been trying to get used to. Helen had wanted him to use something with a bit more range since his regular sword and shield could only do so much. So James had chosen the longsword, its length enough for him to poke, slash, and cleave. Helen had clearly wanted him to choose something a bit more practical, like a spear or polearm, but James was much more familiar with the sword, sad to say.

    ¡°Believe it or not, it¡¯s going to be more than enough for you,¡± James taunted as he flourished his short sword. It felt good in his hand. He couldn¡¯t help but smile at the orc¡¯s reaction to the display. The greenskin¡¯s face had turned into a dark maroon, his expression twisting into anger.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to enjoy displaying your guts for all to see!¡± Blood-Ohm shouted.

    James didn¡¯t say anything as the orc rushed in, his ax already starting its arc toward him. James simply stepped forward, his lungs breathing in the cold air. He focused his will then and there, his body reacting as he muttered a single phrase.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Instant Reflex.¡±

    James felt the rune burn on his chest, his body tensing up at the Physical Casting. He could feel how something deep inside him was used up, leaving him with a sense of partial emptiness. He had three reserves left.

    Blood-Ohm¡¯s sudden advance went slow right after this feeling, the orc looking as if he was moving through honey. James gritted his teeth as he forced himself to move forward, his muscles screaming as they were exerted. He positioned himself low, his legs propelling him into a quick dash underneath the ax swing. He did his best not to overdo it, as the sudden movement during Instant Reflex could result in severe cramps or worse, torn muscle.

    James let out his breath, his casting ending right after. He zoomed past Blood-Ohm with a swipe of his sword. His boots ground his dash to a sudden halt after that, the ashy mud splattering all over his breeches. James nearly lost his balance from the sudden movement, his body wavering as he regained his stance.

    A wave of murmurs and exclamations came from the crowd, most of it unheard to James. He was too busy trying to regain his breath from the physical casting he had just used. Instant Reflex was one of the new additions to his arsenal of castings, and it was clear to him that he needed more practice before he could use it properly without nearly tripping.

    Once his lungs had taken in the cold air, James swiveled his body back towards Blood-Ohm, who was busy trying to cover the slash the young clan leader had left. It was a nasty gash located right near the orc¡¯s ribs. James had tried to aim for the exposed armpit, but Instant Reflex wasn¡¯t forgiving when it came to precise movements. At least he had struck at a gap in the orc¡¯s armor.

    ¡°You¡­You bastard!¡± Blood-Ohm shouted in anger. The orc growled as he took a much more refined stance, his ax wavering.

    ¡®There goes your chance of a surprise attack,¡¯ Faust muttered. ¡®He¡¯s going to be on the defensive now.¡¯

    ¡®No worries,¡¯ James reassured the spirit. ¡®I got this.¡¯

    Blood-Ohm began his approach slowly towards James, his ax at the ready as he locked eyes with the young Jarl. James simply stared back, his left hand clenching and unclenching. He needed to be careful with his next move. Blood-Ohm wasn¡¯t just any orc. He was a lieutenant to the bastard who had once nearly killed every one of his friends.

    ¡®A monster like him. Blood-Ohm deserves no mercy.¡¯

    James made his move. He rushed first, his right hand raising his short sword. He prepared for a swing, the fingers on his left hand forming a glyph as he did so. Blood-Ohm quickly reacted to the sudden advance, his ax rising to parry the incoming attack. James grinned at that.

    Both blade and ax made contact, a flash of sparks and a loud clang sounding out in the clearing. James was forced back from the sheer strength of Blood-Ohm¡¯s counter, his sword hand recoiling back. He was open.

    ¡°I have you now!¡± Blood-Ohm shouted with murderous glee. James barely had time to utter a single word before Blood-Ohm¡¯s ax swung down on him, the orc¡¯s strike accompanied by a casting.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡±

    Wind parted, and something splattered as the enhanced axehead struck its victim. Blood-Ohm¡¯s smiling face was covered in dark matter as he looked down at his ax¡¯s victim. That being the muddy ground. Blood-Ohm¡¯s expression changed to that of confused rage, his gaze moving to the mud that had splattered all over him. He quickly looked around before his focus eventually went up to the sky.

    James looked down at the befuddled orc, his legs burning with exertion as he rose in altitude. He couldn¡¯t help but grin like a maniac, his tunic and gambeson flapping in the freezing wind. He was high up in the air, a result of his Jump casting.

    It was a simple casting, one that not many people had. James had only managed to get it from Falrick, of all people. He had hoped to use it for situations that would call for it, like a naval battle or for quick traversal. Instead, the Outlander had found a different use for it.

    James didn¡¯t expect it to bring him so high up. He must¡¯ve been around five meters from the ground. It was probably the adrenaline that boosted his jump.

    James soon felt how gravity finally began to pull him down, his casting¡¯s magic wearing off instantly. He plummeted towards the ground, time seemingly slowing down for a moment.

    ¡°Summon Ice!¡± James cast as he fell down, frost forming around his fingers. Blood-Ohm quickly reacted, the orcs¡¯ hands bringing his ax up in defense. James expected this. He quickly brought up his ice shield, using it as a cushion against the incoming ax.

    Blood-Ohm could¡¯ve been the strongest orc around. Hell, he could¡¯ve been as strong as Blood-Irk himself. It wouldn¡¯t have mattered. James knew that there were very few things that could withstand the weight and speed of his descent. Physics was on his side for this.

    The ice shield cracked but held as it forced back Blood-Ohm¡¯s ax, the orc instantly buckling from the sheer force of James¡¯ fall. Both man and orc fell to the ashen ground, sending wet mud everywhere.

    James was still the first to get up, his sword pointed ahead as he rushed Blood-Ohm. The orc did his best to try and counter, his ax wildly swinging. James could feel how Faust reacted before he could, his left arm raising the ice shield he had formed. The shield held, even when struck by an angry orc.

    ¡®My ice magic is getting better,¡¯ James mildly thought.

    ¡®Focus on the fight!¡¯ Faust reprimanded.

    James mentally acknowledged the comment. With a grunt and burst of strength, he swatted away the ax, its handle slipping away from Blood-Ohm. Without a second thought, James stepped in and swung his sword down on the orc¡¯s wrist, his blade cutting his opponent¡¯s hand clean off.

    ¡°Argh!¡± Blood-Ohm exclaimed in pain. He clutched at the bloody stump, his head swiveling to James in explosive rage. The anger in the orc¡¯s gaze died as soon as he made eye contact with James. The young Jarl didn¡¯t have to ask to know why. He could see how his burning gaze reflected off the orc¡¯s pupils, the magical glow of Faust¡¯s presence making it seem as if the man¡¯s eyes were lit by blue flames.

    Blood-Ohm tried to crawl back, his legs kicking at the ground as he tried to reach for the ax James had sent flying. James sighed as he strode over to the terrified orc, his left hand dropping the shield in favor of taking off his helm. The glowing eye trick was enough to make his head feverishly hot, the helmet not helping in any way.

    Blood-Ohm had barely arrived at his fallen weapon when James stomped on his good hand.

    ¡°You¡¯re done,¡± James stated before he used his other foot to kick the weapon away.

    Blood-Ohm stared up at James, his expression shifting from fear to anger in rapid succession. It was like the orc was conflicted on what to feel. It didn¡¯t help that the crowd watching them was currently overflowing with comments and mutters. Nearly all of it was about Blood-Ohm and how he had lost so easily.

    ¡°Bastard human!¡± Blood-Ohm spat. He shifted to try and wiggle his hand out of James¡¯ hold. The Jarl lifted his foot to allow him, only to watch the orc attempt a punch. James simply moved out of the way. It wasn¡¯t really necessary since the gash at Blood-Ohm¡¯s side was more than enough to make the orc wince and falter in his movements.

    ¡®Huh. Looks like I did hamper him in a way.¡¯

    ¡°Are you ready to play nice now?¡± James asked. ¡°You¡¯re down a hand, and that wound in your side isn¡¯t going to get better anytime soon.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d die before I allow myself to serve a mere human! Draugr or not!¡± Blood-Ohm boomed. ¡°I am a warrior chosen by Blood-Irk himself! I cannot lose to you! I cannot¡­I¡­¡±

    James watched as the orc fumbled with his words, his attempts to stand useless as he kept slipping on the mud. In the end, Blood-Ohm was resting on his knees, his arms limp and his breathing heavy.

    ¡°You give up?¡± James muttered as he approached the orc. ¡°Last chance.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Blood-Ohm answered in a growl. He looked up at James. ¡°I won¡¯t do any dealings with you. There will be no such negotiation. Death is all I can offer and receive. That is all I will accept.¡±

    James stared Blood-Ohm down, their gazes locking for a solid second. There was no other way this was going to end. That he was sure enough since the beginning. He would be foolish to think that someone who worked for Blood-Irk could be reasonable.

    ¡°Death is all you want, huh?¡± James asked. Blood-Ohm grinned at that.

    ¡°There is no better end for either of us,¡± the orc responded.

    ¡°I see.¡±

    James raised his left hand, which was covered in white gauze. With a mental command, he channeled Faust¡¯s spirit into it. His left arm lit up in a bright blue glow, not unlike what his own eyes were doing. The glow was so bright that it silhouetted the bones in his arm, showcasing a black skeletal arm underneath the bandages. Yet, despite the glow¡¯s brightness, it was still not enough to blind anyone. In fact, it emitted a low light in its surroundings, its luminance reaching a few meters.

    Everyone around the center stepped back from the sudden display of magic, their stares glued on the Jarl who cast it. Blood-Ohm himself had flinched at the sight of it, but his surprised expression was soon replaced with his previous, angry one. The orc stared at James, his facial features gaining an ethereal edge to them.

    Without a word, James grabbed at Blood-Ohm¡¯s face. His palm burned as it made contact with the orc¡¯s skin, making a soft, sizzling noise as his fingers gripped the skull tightly. Right when he grabbed ahold of Blood-Ohm¡¯s head, James¡¯ mind was flooded with memories and emotions.

    Rage was the primary thing he felt. Other than the occasional glee from whenever the orc killed something or someone. James peered through every memory that came, catching as many details as he could. Ship routes, outposts, orcs of importance. Plans. Anything that looked remotely important.

    James could feel his body overheating, his breaths coming out in puffs of vapor. After a bit more peering, James finally had found what he wanted. He could see a certain figure in a random memory, this figure of importance being Blood-Irk. James caught as many details as he could from it, memorizing them to the best of his abilities before he severed the connection with Blood-Ohm.

    The orc before him gasped in response, his breathing heavy as he tried to regain it.

    ¡°What¡­ What have you done?!¡± Blood-Ohm shouted.

    ¡°Got what I needed from you,¡± James panted. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his heart rate through the roof. He felt as if he had run a marathon. It also felt like he had unlimited stamina. His knees and joints ached with overflowing energy like they were ready to spring into a sprint. Such were the results of doing such magic.

    ¡°I¡­That wasn¡¯t supposed to happen! You were supposed to kill me!¡± Blood-Ohm was practically screaming at this point.

    ¡°Nah,¡± James muttered with a sly grin. ¡°That¡¯s Silas and Hourk¡¯s job. I¡¯m only here to get what I need. Which were your memories. Thanks for that, by the way. Got a lot of juicy stuff.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ You fucking!¡± Blood-Ohm roared with anger as he sprung up from his position. He tried to go for a tackle at James, his arms extended towards him. Unfortunately for the orc, James had drained nearly all of his stamina. Which left him lethargically slow. Slow enough for the Jarl to simply dodge to the left and land a full-force kick into the orc¡¯s stomach.

    Blood-Ohm had all the air rush out of his lungs in a single whoosh, his good hand moving to clutch at his stomach. He fell to his knees once more, leaving himself open. The breathless orc looked up at James, his face twisting into an ugly rage, almost as if he was preparing to shout some more. Unfortunately for him, he had found himself face to face with James¡¯ fingers, which glowed a soft blue.

    ¡°Ice Lance,¡± James chanted. His left hand shot forward a lance of ice, thin as a rapier and as small as a dagger. It was a direct copy of a certain cyromancer¡¯s spell.

    Blood-Ohm¡¯s head whipped back violently, the lance piercing through his left eye and coming out halfway in the back of his head. Without so much of a groan, the orc fell face-first into the black mud, his body going slack almost instantly.

    James looked down at the body of Blood-Ohm, whose blood slowly started to pool. He turned to the orcs nearby, the ones who were the last of this outpost¡¯s defenses.

    ¡°Surrender without resistance. Or die,¡± James spoke out, his voice gaining an ethereal tone as he raised a glowing fist.

    In the end, they all chose wisely.

 B.4 Chapter 3: Remnants

    Seamus Halvorson looked upon the trees of the island, their bark burnt to pitch black and their branches bare as bones. Ash still covered everything, contrasting with the snow. The young man looked down at his feet, which were standing in a disgusting ice-mud slush.

    ¡°Feels like it¡¯s my fault it¡¯s this way,¡± he muttered as he raised his boot. It dripped with black mud, its color unholy in a way.

    ¡°The orcs are to blame,¡± Falrick¡¯s voice called out. ¡°Don¡¯t be hard on yourself.¡±

    Seamus turned to his right, watching as the elderly Wizard approached him. He was coming from the orc outpost, where all the action was. Seamus had declined to take part in the conflict, since he was sure that James would have it handled. That, and he was still wary about fighting. He had mixed feelings about joining in on battles. That indifference stemmed from his past experiences in fights, where his participation was more or less forced into his hands.

    ¡°How did the raid go?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°Well. No friendly casualties. That and your Jarl decided to duel their leader in singular combat. I am sure you can guess who won,¡± Falrick said. The Wizard was twiddling with his prosthetic, his fingers tightening some of the joints on his wrist.

    ¡°That¡¯s good. Did Elaine manage to chronicle it?¡± Seamus wondered about the young bard, who had joined in on this raid to capture the moment in detail.

    ¡°She vomited at the first sight of blood,¡± Falrick admitted. ¡°Poor girl had to go back to the ship.¡± The Wizard seemed genuinely worried for Elaine, his expression changing to pity.

    ¡°How about Malik?¡± Seamus asked. He didn¡¯t remember seeing the necromancer at all during today. Either he was on a different longship, or he simply didn¡¯t come. This was strange, considering he was only with James because he wanted to watch every battle the Outlander was in.

    ¡°Too bored to be bothered with orcs,¡± Falrick answered. ¡°Didn¡¯t even come to watch over James.¡±

    ¡°I suppose staying back in Yorktown would be preferable for someone like him. Especially since he has to study that,¡± Seamus muttered the last part with some reproach.

    ¡°Well, if it does give you comfort, he has a pact with James to protect us all. He¡¯s on a leash, so to speak,¡± Falrick pointed out.

    ¡°Leash or not, I don¡¯t like him,¡± Seamus said. ¡°Where¡¯s Lowe?¡±

    ¡°Aldren. Or what is left of it,¡± Falrick answered. ¡°Let¡¯s go meet up with him. Now that the battle is over, we can look for the vault.¡±

    Seamus sighed and nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s do it. It¡¯s been some time, but I think I know where it is,¡±

    ¡°Then let us be on our way.¡±

    <hr>

    James let out a breath as he sat upon a fallen tree, the blackened bark rough to the touch. Regardless, it was nice to give himself a rest.

    ¡°Sorry for that,¡± he muttered as Horuk approached. ¡°I know you wanted to be the one to end him.¡±

    ¡°Not a problem,¡± the orc leader chuckled. Horuk was an absolute unit, even in orc standards. He was taller than Silas, roughly two and a half meters tall. His brawn was his most noticeable feature; his shoulders were basically boulders, and his forearms were three times as thick as James¡¯ own.

    ¡°You did what was needed.¡± Horuk continued, his hand brushing back whatever coarse hair he had left on top of his scalp. ¡°Humiliated him in front of his own before taking him out. A deserving end.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. A deserving end,¡± James muttered. He recalled the memories he had gathered from Blood-Ohm. Specifically, the ones that included the orc¡¯s leader, Blood-Irk. He now knew the extent of the orc¡¯s plans, which thankfully weren¡¯t an immediate threat.

    ¡°Did you catch anything from that bastard¡¯s memories?¡± Horuk asked.

    ¡°Need to go through them later. The memories are still raw,¡± James said. Combing through the orc¡¯s memories was something he had to do carefully and thoroughly. As of now, they were nothing but flashes and faint recallings, disorganized and misplaced. He and Faust needed to process it all before they could look through them.

    ¡°If it makes you feel better¡ªfrom what I¡¯ve managed to gather¡ªBlood-Irk¡¯s plans are mostly dead in the water already. It¡¯ll be a long time before he¡¯s a threat to us again,¡± James revealed.

    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear,¡± Horuk responded with a chuckle. ¡°If and when you go through them later, notify us of what you find.¡±

    With that, the orc waved goodbye and left to rally up the rest of his clan.

    Horuk led a monster-hunting clan that was allied with James¡¯ White Raven clan. So far, they had fought with each other in almost every battle they went to, with James usually leading the charge.

    The young Jarl thought about possibly integrating Horuk¡¯s clan into his own to strengthen both sides by combining them into one. He held that thought back. Even after everything they had gone through together, James would still have trouble leading the orcs. They didn¡¯t respond well to being led by humans, no matter how strong they were. It was part of their culture and hierarchy. To change it would surely strain tensions.

    As of now, they had a pretty good thing going on. The Raven clan provided refuge, and the Orc clan provided their strength. Horuk commanded his own orcs, and that was good enough.

    James sighed deeply, his gaze moving to the rest of his people. The Ravens were busy preparing to build a base of operations, under Helen¡¯s supervision. After that was done, they would move to Aldren to survey the damage.

    The plan was to establish Aldren to the way it was before it was raided by orcs and burnt to the ground. After that, James would have a second base for both his people and interests. He wasn¡¯t planning to make this island an outpost but as an extension of his clan. A new town with potential and opportunity.

    James found himself smiling at the idea of this island prospering, not unlike Yorktown. Filled with people and merchants. It didn¡¯t take long for his imagination to go wild. He imagined his clan conquering other islands, his orcs and people establishing countless outposts and bases. He could see it now, hundreds of islands in the south flying his raven banner. They would all be his.

    ¡°I hate it when you make that face,¡± a voice called out. James blinked and turned to see Dahlia standing nearby, her arms crossed.

    ¡°Bad habit, sorry,¡± James laughed nervously. That bad habit was from the countless hours he had once spent at his PC back on earth. Back then¡ªbefore his burnout had set in¡ªJames would pour hours into games like Total War and Stellaris. Games that focused on strategy and empire-building.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Obviously, those games didn¡¯t transfer much skill into James. If anything, he pretty much sucked at them. Still, it didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t infatuated with the feeling of growth and power in those games. The adrenaline rush from every battle won and every territory gained. The extent of his empire¡¯s reach. It was an addictive feeling.

    ¡®Reign it in, James,¡¯ Faust commented. ¡®Don¡¯t forget, I can see your memories. From what I can gather, those kingdoms and empires of yours did not last long.¡¯

    The spirit was right. James had a tendency to overextend his reach and risk too much. His empires were short-lived, and he lost more than he won. He had to remind himself that he was dealing with reality, not a low poly game running on a three-year-old PC he frankensteined out of used parts.

    For now, he had to focus on the important plan to reestablish Aldren as a formidable base.

    ¡°I swear, you are like a child sometimes,¡± Dahlia sighed. James shrugged at that before he stood up.

    ¡°How are the wounded?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Dahlia answered. She gestured to the group of men nearby, half of them covered in gauze and nursing their wounds. ¡°I still need to get to the orcs, but they¡¯re busy.¡±

    James turned to see what she meant by that. He grimaced at the sight of the orcs cheering and chest bumping. They celebrated amongst themselves, their shouts and hollers echoing into the sky.

    ¡°Give them a minute,¡± James said with a sigh. ¡°Once the adrenaline wears off, they¡¯ll be good.¡±

    ¡°I hope soon. Some of them have nasty injuries. I¡¯m not an expert in orc anatomy, but I don¡¯t think a severed hand is a minor wound,¡± Dahlia muttered.

    ¡°They¡¯ll be fine,¡± James said with a wave. He turned around to gaze at the rest of the orc camp. He could spot familiar faces all around, but there was one person unaccounted for. Well, two now that he looked around.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Seamus?¡± James asked. ¡°And Falrick?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not exactly sure,¡± Dahlia furrowed her brow. ¡°Maybe back at the shore? If not, then I suppose they¡¯re at Aldren. I know I saw Lowe walking over there.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go look for them,¡± James said. ¡°You take care of the orcs first, alright?¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Dahlia sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll group with you guys as soon as I¡¯m done.¡±

    James nodded at that before he headed off in the direction of Aldren.

    <hr>

    Aldren was surprisingly still there, despite most of it being nothing but burnt char.

    Seamus found himself staring at one house, which¡ªdespite it being burnt¡ªwas still standing. Its walls were pitch black, and the interior was covered in ash, but it was still there.

    The same went for most of the houses in the settlement, their foundations still standing¡ªburned and half collapsed, but there.

    ¡°What are these houses made of?¡± James¡¯ voice sounded out from behind.

    Seamus turned to see his friend walking up from the treeline, his gaze being on the state of the town.

    ¡°Vern wood,¡± Seamus answered. ¡°The dwarves here used it for construction of the town. Apparently, despite the fire, they managed to remain.¡±

    ¡°You guys are gonna make your way to the vault?¡± James asked. The young Jarl had his blond hair tied into a loose knot, his beard trimmed to a respectable length. He had a well-built frame, his shoulders broad, and his height towering most people. Add that with his dark blue eyes, and he reminded Seamus of those heroes in stories. More specifically, the ones who served the Goddess Delphine.

    Seamus knew better, however. He knew that James was far from those heroes in stories. He was the opposite, the antagonist who fought against the Golden Goddess. Not maliciously, of course. James wasn¡¯t like the heartless villains of those myths. He was just a ¡®guy,¡¯ as he put it. A mundane man who was thrust into the jaws of this world. It wasn¡¯t his fault he chose survival.

    Seamus himself wasn¡¯t any different. Unlike James, he looked nothing like those heroes in stories. He wasn¡¯t even unique enough to look like the antagonist. Seamus was an average-looking young man, his hair trimmed to a messy bowl shape. His chin and jaw were hairless, not by choice either. He had dark green eyes that were almost black, and his build looked unassuming. With the baggy clothes he wore, one could assume he was lanky and unfit.

    Seamus looked like someone who would accompany the hero in their adventures, his only job being to be a scribe and chronicle everything.

    Of course, he was far from that stereotype. Seamus was a warrior. One formed by his infamous father, Yorn. The late Jarl had trained the young man since he was a toddler, looking to form a worthy heir to the Halvorson clan. Unfortunately for his late father, that was never to be. Not since Seamus¡¯ clan was wiped from the map, along with his birthright as a Jarl.

    Seamus didn¡¯t mind that responsibility being taken away. Sure, he was cursed with nightmares and lifelong trauma, but it didn¡¯t really bother him that he was never going to be Jarl.

    Seamus buried those thoughts of his clan away. He had a habit of reminding himself of their brutal fall. Right now, he needed to focus on the current predicament.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be heading to the vault soon. We¡¯re just waiting for Lowe,¡± Seamus answered James¡¯ question. He gestured to the middle of Aldren, where the mentioned gnome stood. Next to him was Falrick, the old Wizard patting the gnome¡¯s back.

    Lowe was a gnome who was once tasked with watching over Aldren. Despite his responsibility to the island and its settlement, he was unable to stop Blood-Irk¡¯s invasion during last Frost. Even though there was nothing he could do to stop it, Lowe still blamed himself.

    Seamus felt bad for him. He wanted to comfort the gnome, to tell him it would be alright. Yet he couldn¡¯t bring himself to do it. That was why Falrick was there with Lowe instead of Seamus.

    ¡°Damn,¡± James said. ¡°He still doesn¡¯t blame himself, does he? This wasn¡¯t his fault.¡±

    ¡°Grief does things to people,¡± Seamus muttered. ¡°It makes them blame themselves for everything that went wrong, even if they weren¡¯t at fault. We both should know that feeling. Especially with what¡¯s happened this past year.¡±

    James was silent at that, his gaze falling to the blackened ground. Seamus knew the young Jarl still blamed himself for what happened during Midsommar. Even after all these months, the Battle of Vindis was still fresh in his mind.

    There was some silence between the two before another voice joined in.

    ¡°The orcs are done with clearing the outpost. They¡¯re going to start establishing one of their own in the east soon.¡± It was Dahlia.

    Seamus glanced at the Shaman, watching as she hurried to join them. She was dressed in a light gambeson, her poncho-like cloak covering it from the front and back. Underneath that, she wore a dark green long-sleeved tunic, its sleeves almost too long for her.

    Dahlia had short black hair, which was messy to a degree. It was a far cry from when Seamus first met her, back when he had escaped from the marauders. Back then, her hair was somewhat lengthy and tied up into multiple buns. After the Lumen Knight incident, however, she had kept it short. Out of remembrance or preference, Seamus didn¡¯t know. Dahlia was unique in a way that she didn¡¯t look Valian at all. While most nomads in Valenfrost had naturally pale skin paired with dark hair and green eyes, Dahlia¡¯s skin was almost like heartwood. It was light and pale but clearly darker than Seamus¡¯ skin. The Shaman also had large golden amber eyes, the color almost like honey. Pair that with the dark freckles on her cheeks and nose, and she stood out like a sore thumb in a group of people.

    Seamus had tried to guess her heritage multiple times. Arenian, Azurevalian, and even Atroxi. None of it seemed right. Ultimately, he could only guess she was a mix of all the above. It did make some sense since her parents were both from different parts of the world. A father who was a soldier from Azurvale and a mother who was a long-time native of Yorktown, which was once a trading outpost between Areno and Valenfrost.

    Seamus glanced over at James, who was from another world entirely, his features being a mix between northern Valenfrost and Azurvale. That spawned a funny thought in his head. Both the Jarl and Dahlia were a couple, and at the rate they were going, it was clear to Seamus that history was going to repeat itself at some point in the near future.

    ¡°Why are you looking at me like that?¡± James asked, almost accusatory.

    ¡°Just thinking about the future is all,¡± Seamus said dismissively. He looked back at Dahlia. ¡°Are you going to head with us to the vault?¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t in my plans for today, but why not?¡± Dahlia responded with a shrug. ¡°Not much else for a shaman to do. No one on our side got seriously injured.¡±

    ¡°Then let us get going,¡± Falrick called out. Everyone turned to look over at the Wizard, who was accompanied by Lowe. The gnome looked to be done with his reminiscing.

    ¡°Are you alright, Lowe?¡± Seamus couldn¡¯t help but ask.

    ¡°I¡¯m alive. So are some of our people. That¡¯s all that counts,¡± Lowe muttered an answer. He gave the young Halvorson a wry smile. ¡°Let¡¯s get on with today, Seamus. There is a vault waiting for us.¡±

 B.4 Chapter 4: Raiders of the Lost Vault

    Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but enjoy the winds of Frost, its chilly breeze brushing against her cloak. The cold stung her cheeks and numbed her nose, but it was refreshing regardless. She had always enjoyed the cold, even when it was close to dangerous levels. It was a strange preference, one that baffled even James. Perhaps the comfort came from its inevitability. Death came for all, and with it, its cold embrace. Dahlia had accepted long ago that it would come for her and all she knew. The wind was a reminder of it, a small taste of what awaited her after her long journey. It was almost comforting to know that.

    Dahlia stopped her walk in the woods, allowing her party to trudge ahead as she glanced over at James. Despite her morbid acceptance of death, she could not feel the same about him.

    The man from another world. The Outlander. The Jarl. The Draugr.

    James was someone she wanted more than anyone to stay alive. He was everything to her and had done so much for her. The last thing she wanted was to lose him. Dahlia wasn¡¯t sure why she felt so valiantly for him. Why her heart skipped beats whenever he glanced her way. Why she was obsessed with the glint in those dark blue eyes.

    She must have been staring for too long since James glanced back at her with a raised eyebrow. Dahlia quickly turned away, her cheeks burning as she continued her walk.

    James was the opposite when it came to death. He wasn¡¯t so accepting of fate. Who could blame him? He had experienced death twice already and had come so close to losing it all. He knew better than anyone how terrifying it was to be on that brink, to come so close to the other side. Dahlia wasn¡¯t sure why she was so callous about her own fate, but she was obsessed with keeping James alive. She had done so much just to save him, including possibly endangering the whole world.

    ¡®Is this what love does? No, that¡¯s stupid to think about.¡¯

    Dahlia felt her cheeks burn even hotter, the thought of her feelings for the outlander being the sole cause. Why was she so embarrassed by such thoughts? Perhaps she was overthinking things. Perhaps she was¨C

    ¡°Dahlia?¡± James asked suddenly. Dahlia had to hold the urge to make a sound out of surprise, her right hand moving to brush at her hair. It was also to hide the fact she was blushing.

    ¡°Yes?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Think there¡¯s anything useful left at the vault?¡± he wondered aloud. Dahlia narrowed her brow. She wondered why he wasn¡¯t asking this to someone like Lowe or Falrick, people who were knowledgeable about the vault. She looked at the two men, only to see them conversing quietly at the front. They were speaking, but the words were still inaudible and in the form of hushed muttering. It was clear they were having a private conversation.

    ¡°Probably not,¡± Dahlia answered. ¡°It¡¯s where the fire originally started, no? The same one that burnt half the island to cinders.¡±

    ¡°To be fair,¡± Seamus spoke up. ¡°The roof caved in not long after. Chances are that prevented the vault¡¯s contents from being set aflame.¡±

    ¡°Was there anything of note in there?¡± James asked.

    ¡°A couple statues, paintings, old potions,¡± Seamus thoughtfully tapped at his chin as he recounted. ¡°Armor, weapons, and a crate load of valdoras. But again, there¡¯s a good chance that it¡¯s all melted down to useless scrap.¡±

    ¡°With some luck, perhaps those valdoras are still there,¡± Dahlia murmured. As convenient as weapons and armor were, money was something that could help in their ventures tremendously.

    The White Raven clan was already raking in money from both Elaine¡¯s plays and the increased traffic in Yorktown¡¯s marketplace. Arenian traders brought in a steady flow of income for the town, but it was barely enough to pay for the services of Horuk¡¯s orcs, raven soldiers, town defenses, and other clan-related costs. Some extra money would give them some breathing room.

    ¡°How¡¯s the brewing?¡± Dahlia asked suddenly. She recalled that James was trying to jumpstart ¡®Bjorn¡¯s Liquors and Beers¡¯ into a profitable business. The problem was that it was downright impossible for James to replicate the late dwarf¡¯s brew. Bjorn didn¡¯t exactly leave behind detailed instructions on his process.

    ¡°Not well,¡± James admitted. ¡°It¡¯s harder than I expected, and Faust isn¡¯t much help. Turns out, he¡¯s a complete lightweight when it comes to alcohol.¡±

    Dahlia saw how James¡¯ face contorted into a furrowed look, his eyes gazing off to the sky as he sighed. She could tell that he was having an enlightened conversation with the spirit.

    ¡°Faust not happy?¡± she prodded.

    ¡°He¡¯s more of a wine guy,¡± James responded. ¡°Hard liquor is where he draws his line.¡±

    ¡°Is Rockford any help?¡± Dahlia asked. She recalled Nathan recommending that the dwarf help out with the brewing.

    ¡°Kind of? The stuff he makes is better than mine, but it¡¯s not enough for the market,¡± James said. ¡°We need something strong but tolerable. Bjorn¡¯s brew was perfect, even when we watered it down.¡±

    ¡°I might know a few men who could help with your liquor business,¡± Falrick said. Everyone turned to the Wizard, who was walking in stride with Lowe despite the rocky terrain.

    ¡°You do?¡± James asked. ¡°You haven¡¯t mentioned this earlier, why?¡±

    ¡°Because the men I recommend are in Redyr territory. They live in Haven,¡± Falrick revealed. ¡°After what you pulled after the Midsommar festival, I was doubtful that Frue Margeret herself would be willing to allow you in her waters, let alone her towns and cities.¡±

    James cringed at that. ¡°Right.¡±

    ¡°Did they get back to you?¡± Dahlia asked. ¡°Redyr? I haven¡¯t heard anything these past months from them.¡±

    After James forced most of Vindis¡¯ shareholders into a pact, there was some commotion in the north. Mainly because James¡¯ clan was so small yet had done so much in such a short time. He was an Outlander with little to no claims and connections. Despite that, he had managed to build up a clan from the remnants of Aldren and orc outcasts, forming a force that was enough to hold its own during the Battle of Vindis.

    James had more than made a name for himself, and Dahlia knew it made the other clans nervous. Aside from one, that is. Redyr was the only clan that didn¡¯t have to conform to the pact fully. That was because they had sent a simple advisor as their emissary, unlike Vulpesson and Olafson, who had sent their heirs to meet up with James. Even Villtur¡¯s Jarl was among those who came. That allowed James to force these clans into pacts that allowed him to hold a stake in Vindis without resistance.

    Redyr, on the other hand, was not among the ones forced into it. It was initially a problem at first since it meant Redyr¡¯s Frue could resist and push back against James¡¯ deal. Yet they didn¡¯t. Instead, Frue Margeret had sent James the papers for her stake in Vindis, allowing the young Jarl to complete his takeover of the city.

    As for the reason why, there currently wasn¡¯t one. Dahlia herself felt it strange that the leader of one of the more powerful clans in Valenfrost would just cooperate so easily. Not that it wasn¡¯t a good thing but Dahlia herself knew better than to accept blind faith and luck. There was some ulterior motive behind it, she knew it. What it was exactly was up for debate and speculation.

    ¡°No,¡± James answered her question. ¡°They haven¡¯t.¡±

    He looked more than a bit nervous, too. It was clear that Dahlia wasn¡¯t the only one who thought this was strange.

    ¡°Well, you do have a meeting this week with Vindis¡¯ council. Perhaps Redyr¡¯s emissary shall make an appearance there,¡± Dahlia pointed out.

    ¡°Here¡¯s to hoping,¡± James muttered as he rubbed his eyes.

    Just as Dahlia was about to speak a few comforting words to the stressed Jarl, the terrain below here changed from ashy dirt and snow to the telltale scrunch of gravel. Before she could question it, she collided with Seamus. She nearly fell over as a result, her foot nearly losing purchase upon the gravel below.

    Dahlia was about to say something before she realized that the entire party had stopped there and then, their gazes fixed ahead. She turned to what was ahead, her voice dying in her throat. Before them all were fallen Vern trees, their burnt logs facing eastward, almost as if they had all been pushed by the same force from the same direction.

    Dahlia¡¯s gaze moved to the source of said force, her eyes blinking at the sight. Before them was what looked like a sinkhole in the ground, its crater extending for hundreds of meters. Upon closer inspection, she could see the remnants of what looked to be an underground structure, the smooth stone walls peeking out from under the collapsed dirt and ash.

    ¡°Looks like we¡¯re here,¡± Seamus called back. ¡°Welcome to the vault. Or what¡¯s left of it.¡±

    <hr>

    James kicked over a bit of some rubble as he looked around the remnants of the vault. While the damage was enough to cave in half the underground bunker, he was surprised to see how much of it was still left. So far, the front half of the vault took on most of the explosion¡¯s damage, leaving stone and dirt to cave in most of it.

    James could spot remnants of the vault amongst the damage. Burnt paintings, destroyed statues, bits and pieces of armor and weaponry. It was all useless, unfortunately. Whatever didn¡¯t burn was either melted to useless scrap or scorched beyond recognition. Only their shapes gave a vague sense of what they used to be.

    Short to say, this half of the bunker was destroyed beyond any use. The second half of the vault, on the other hand, was surprisingly intact.

    At least as intact as it could be.

    It was all blocked off by rubble, leaving it sealed off to the outside world. Leaving no way to reach it without magic means. Thankfully, however, they had brought a Wizard with them.

    ¡°Levitate!¡± Falrick¡¯s voice reverberated with power as he cast his spell. He struggled as he formed the runes with his hands, his prosthetic struggling to keep up. Regardless, the Wizard¡¯s spell was true, and its magic worked.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    James watched as the huge pieces of rock and ceiling glowed a bright purple. They shuddered in response as the Wizard¡¯s magic took hold, dirt, and ash falling off as a result. Falrick physically struggled as he raised his arms, the rubble before him lifting into the air.

    With a slow, methodical motion, the Wizard guided the huge rocks to the side. They shook and wavered, almost like they were going to fall. James could see how both Dahlia and Seamus took a few steps back. Lowe was the only one amongst them who didn¡¯t budge.

    James himself found his feet, taking a few instinctual steps back despite being a good distance away from the floating rubble. It wasn¡¯t that he doubted the Wizard. He just didn¡¯t trust the cheap iron hand he was using to constantly form runes.

    Despite this, Falirck¡¯s motions were nearly flawless. He gracefully set the pieces of rubble down not long after lifting them, the rocks barely making a noise as they rested nearby. The Wizard exhaled right after that, his breaths short and ragged.

    ¡°Should be clear!¡± he called out right after.

    James squinted at the darkness that was revealed from the Wizard¡¯s spell. He could barely see a damn thing.

    ¡°Dahlia?¡± he called out.

    ¡°Candlelight,¡± Dahlia casted, her voice followed by a small orb of light that floated placidly into the vault''s darkness. James followed the orb, its luminance growing as it went deeper into the ruins. Another casting later, James was accompanied by two of the magical lights, their radiance illuminating everything properly.

    James almost expected to see something similar to what he saw in the first half of the vault¡ªbroken and destroyed ruins with little to recover. Instead, he was witness to what looked like an entirely different place. This part of the vault was spacious, its ceiling still intact, and its contents almost untouched.

    Statues, weapons, and crates of items were all still intact. Some of it was scattered and dinged up, but still there. James focused on one of the statues, his eyes gazing over the masonry. It depicted a young woman in steel armor¡ªlumen-made¡ªher right arm raising a sword to the skies. The white stone was stained with ash and dust, with signs of age visible everywhere. It even had its left arm missing.

    ¡°Jenis Kord,¡± James read the plaque, which was surprisingly readable. ¡°Bane of Dorinfal.¡±

    ¡®Kord.¡¯

    The name rang an unpleasant bell in his head. James did not have any good memories of the Kord family. Not when he had front-row seats to their history in the form of Faust¡¯s memories. Whether it be from when he watched Eobard Kord decapitate him or when he had brutally killed Leonard Kord without mercy, James did not associate their name with anything pleasant.

    ¡®That one must be after my time,¡¯ Faust muttered at the statue. ¡®Don¡¯t remember her at all.¡¯

    ¡°Ah yes, I remember that story,¡± Falrick called out as he stepped into the dim vault with Dahlia and Seamus. Lowe quickly followed right after the Wizard.

    ¡°Jenis Kord was one of the few who sought to destroy the wishing shrine when it appeared the second time,¡± Falrick said. He rubbed his beard as he examined the statue, almost as if he was reminiscing.

    ¡°Did she succeed?¡± James asked. He recalled the story of the wishing shrine. A powerful artifact that was capable of granting even the most dangerous of vices. He knew it had been destroyed a long time ago but knew little of the details around that.

    ¡°No,¡± Falrick said simply. ¡°Despite her efforts, she failed. There isn¡¯t much about her other than what Lumen scribes have written about her downfall. When she died fighting the Lords of Dorinfal.¡±

    ¡°How do you know about her?¡± Dahlia asked as she approached the statue. She brushed some dust away from the plaque.

    ¡°Believe it or not, I used to live in Lumen City,¡± Falrick revealed with a chuckle. ¡°Studied there in my time as an apprentice. Jenis Kord and her family tree are much more well-known there than here in Valenfrost.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re Azurvalian?¡± James raised an eyebrow at that. He turned to the Wizard, trying to see if he could spot any defining features.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you tell from my azure eyes and blond locks?¡± Falrick joked with a grin, his hand brushing his near-white hair back. While it was dark in the vault, James could clearly see that Falrick¡¯s eyes were a very dark green, their tint bordering on black. He could also spot the faint streaks of black in his beard as well. He had the features of Valenfrost¡¯s nomads.

    ¡°I was born to Valian parents and adopted by Lumen nobles,¡± the Wizard explained right after, almost as if he could hear the question that appeared in James¡¯ mind. ¡°Studied to be a Wizard before I sought out knowledge and power in Valenfrost. A story as old as time.¡±

    ¡°I feel like there¡¯s more to that,¡± James prodded.

    ¡°There is. However, that is all you¡¯re getting for the time being,¡± Falrick said. There was a hint of a smug smile on the Wizard¡¯s lips. ¡°For now, I shall busy myself with making sure this vault is secure enough for the artifact.¡±

    With that said, the Wizard went off to do his thing, Lowe following closely behind. James turned to his friends, who were busy examining the contents that had survived. Dahlia was checking crates, peering through them in search of loot. Seamus was focused on another part of the vault, his focus on some of the paintings that were scattered around.

    ¡°Was your dad a patron of the arts or something?¡± James asked as he approached the younger man. Seamus glanced back at James, his shoulders shrugging.

    ¡°I think these were more for my mother than him,¡± he answered. ¡°She always loved paintings. Especially ones that captured moments of the past.¡±

    Seamus picked one of the canvases up, his hands propping the frame upright so that James could examine it.

    It depicted rolling green fields, a beautifully painted sky, and a forest behind it. There was even a distant city of silver in the far background. The painting gave James an unexpected sense of nostalgia, bringing up memories of when he was looking at a similar visage.

    James looked down at the painting¡¯s name, engraved at the frame''s bottom.

    ¡®Lumen Province, Azurvale. Age 400.¡¯

    He almost wanted to chuckle.

    ¡®Funny. The perfect setting for fantasy. One that pretty much screams cliche. Shame I¡¯ll never be able to experience it for myself.¡¯

    That left a bitter taste in his mouth. As much as he hated to admit it, James knew he would never be able to visit Azurvale. Not when there was an entire kingdom there that was more than ready to kill him on sight. For the foreseeable future, James was stuck in Valenfrost.

    ¡®Not really. I mean, I can always go visit Areno.¡¯

    While true, there was some doubt in that. James had a clan to run and politics to wade through. There was no time to go traveling and vacationing.

    ¡°Are there any other paintings?¡± James asked. He broke his gaze from the painting in front of him. Now wasn¡¯t the time to sully over missed opportunities. Before he could give Seamus a chance to say anything, James¡¯ eyes passed over one particular canvas. He stopped dead in his tracks, his focus on it.

    ¡°James?¡± Seamus asked.

    James didn¡¯t answer as he picked up the framed painting. It was half destroyed, the top half of its canvas scorched. Still, James could make out the guy depicted in it. He wore chainmail over a dark-colored gambeson, his gear light and bare. He had a wolf insignia on his belt, the symbol eerily familiar. Half of the man¡¯s face was gone due to the burnt canvas, leaving only the bottom half of his face and shoulder.

    He had blond hair, paler than James¡¯ own. It was messy and long, his braided rattail resting on his shoulder. He bore a wide grin, his beard almost as shaggy as his head hair.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Seamus prodded, his finger poking at James¡¯ shoulder.

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m fine,¡± James muttered. He looked down at the painting¡¯s name, half of which was scratched out. There was only one word left.

    ¡°Blyth,¡± James read aloud.

    ¡®The wolf clan?¡¯ Faust asked. Both Centurion and Earthling recalled the stories and rumors of the fallen clan, which had once been prolific in Valenfrost. James recalled what he had learned about Blyth, which was minimal, to say the least. He only knew of their downfall, which had happened a few years before the Outsider Wars. Which was roughly thirty years ago.

    ¡°Is that¡­?¡± Falrick¡¯s voice called out.

    ¡°Do you know him?¡± James asked.

    ¡°That is Einar Blyth,¡± Falrick muttered. ¡°Former ally of Yorn. Never knew he had a painting of him done.¡±

    The Wizard approached the painting of Einar, his hands touching the burnt parts of the canvas. He frowned.

    ¡°A shame that his only legacy doesn¡¯t even show his face,¡± Falrick sighed.

    James could see what looked to be a hint of sorrow in the old Wizard¡¯s eyes, which prompted a question from him.

    ¡°What was he like?¡± James asked. He didn¡¯t know why, but he felt compelled by the canvas. Einar didn¡¯t even seem all too interesting, yet the aura and sense of familiarity from the painting urged his curiosity in a way he didn¡¯t expect.

    ¡°Before or after his clan was wiped?¡± Falrick answered almost callously.

    ¡°Both,¡± James muttered without thinking. He regretted answering instantly since it made it seem like he didn¡¯t care much for the Wizard¡¯s feelings about the man. Regardless, Falrick didn¡¯t seem to mind.

    ¡°Well, he was once an idiot. Heir to the Blyth clan itself. Squandered everything his family had built up,¡± Falrick explained. ¡°Still, he wasn¡¯t a bad man. If anything, he was a good example for Yorn.¡±

    ¡°Example?¡± Seamus questioned. ¡°My father?¡±

    ¡°Yes, your father. Yorn Halvorson himself looked up to Einar like an older brother,¡± Falrick chuckled. ¡°They had become friends back in their younger days, not far from your own age, Seamus. Back before Kjor went on his rampage across the north.¡±

    Falrick¡¯s expression faltered at the memory, his gaze moving back to the painting of Einar.

    ¡°Einar and Yorn were brothers essentially. He even assisted the younger Halvorson in taking down Kjor when he was at the height of power. Einar had even gotten his own clan to help, becoming a Jarl in the process. They weren¡¯t easy to convince either. Einar did his damndest to regain their faith, to prove to them that he wasn¡¯t a useless drunk.¡± Falrick recalled all of this with a look of guilt, his fingers rubbing at his eyes.

    ¡°The bards say Yorn won that fight all on his lonesome, his support near to nil. What they won¡¯t tell you is that the Blyth clan was right behind him, giving their lives to get past Kjor¡¯s own forces and allies,¡± Falrick recounted. ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for Einar, Yorn wouldn¡¯t have become what he was. Without the Blyth clan, the Halvorson clan would not have existed.¡±

    The Wizard was quiet after that, his gaze fixed on the burnt painting.

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing his clan fell not that long after?¡± James asked quietly.

    Falrick took a deep breath before he answered. ¡°Blyth suffered heavy losses from the small war they waged against Kjor. Because of this, they were left vulnerable. Enough for some damnable clan from the south continent of Atrox to come and ransack their islands. No one could do anything. Yorn barely had any way to help, and the other clans were still recovering from Kjor¡¯s reign. Blyth was left to burn.

    ¡°By some cursed twist of fate, Einar was the only one to survive the purging. As a result, he became a bitter, angry, and violent drunk. He frequented the bars in Vindis and Bernis, drinking away his sorrows and regrets,¡± Falrick sighed. ¡°Of course, Yorn tried to help. We even offered to take him into the Halvorson clan. He rejected all of our offers. Only wanted to be left alone.¡±

    ¡°What happened to him?¡± James prodded. He was invested in the story of the fallen man, his curiosity getting the better of him.

    ¡°He¡¯s dead,¡± Falrick said simply. ¡°At least, that¡¯s the only logical explanation. I haven¡¯t seen or heard from him in nearly thirty years. Safe to say he died, possibly drowning in the canals during a drunken waltz in Vindis.¡±

    James could sense a bit of doubt in the Wizard¡¯s voice. It was almost as if the elderly man didn¡¯t believe it himself. He decided not to press it.

    ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s enough reminiscing for today. I suppose we have a vault to restore,¡± Falirck sighed as he set the painting against the wall. He turned back to the back of the vault, heading off to do what he came to do.

    James looked at the painting of Einar Blyth, focusing on the dead man¡¯s features and expression. He seemed happy and content, almost naive in a sense. His body language was casual and free, like there wasn¡¯t a care in the world. It was clear that this portrait was made before he had lost it all, before his eventual downfall.

    For some strange reason, James felt a tinge of nostalgia from the painting.

 B.4 Chapter 5: A Jarls Duty

    James took a deep breath of the cold Frost air, his lungs stinging lightly at the freezing oxygen. He was currently walking through the burnt remnants of Aldren¡¯s forests, his destination being that of the ship he came here on. He had left the vault and its contents to Falrick and Lowe, letting them do their work. Seamus had also opted to stay behind to watch over and explore the island some more, leaving James alone with Dahlia as they walked back to the shore.

    They were both quiet for a moment, the only sounds being the snow crunching beneath their boots and the light shivers Dahlia gave off every once in a while. James glanced at the young Shaman, who had her scarf wrapped around the bottom half of her face, hiding her features beneath the wool. Still, he could see the soft smile she wore, her rosy cheeks raising a bit.

    ¡°Happy about something?¡± James asked as he breathed into his hands, his numb fingers regaining some feeling.

    ¡°Nothing in particular,¡± Dahlia responded coyly as she rubbed her hands. After a moment of silence, she sighed. She walked a little closer to James, her shoulders bumping with his. James couldn¡¯t help but smile a little, his gaze moving to the trees nearby. Without saying anything, he grabbed at her open hand. He felt as Dahlia immediately crossed fingers with him, her cold hand squeezing his.

    They walked together like this, silent as they trudged through the ashen forest.

    After a while, Dahlia spoke up.

    ¡°I¡¯m always here for you,¡± she whispered softly. ¡°You know that, yes?¡±

    ¡°Where did this come from?¡± James asked with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°Please, you¡¯re not fooling anyone,¡± Dahlia said. She was still looking straight ahead, her eyes not meeting with him. ¡°I know that you¡¯re feeling pressure from all this Jarl business. That and¡­¡±

    Dahlia had trailed off, her sentence hanging in the air. It looked as if she was contemplating her next words.

    ¡°Nothing is your fault,¡± she finally said.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± James asked dumbly. He knew damn well what she was referring to. James knew exactly what she was getting at.

    ¡®I¡¯m not a child, dammit. Just say what you¡¯re going to say.¡¯

    ¡°Aldren,¡± Dahlia finally said. ¡°It wasn¡¯t your fault.¡±

    James didn¡¯t say anything about that. He knew that she wasn¡¯t initially going to say Aldren. The way she said it felt as if she was quickly changing subjects. Like she had changed her mind about what she was really going to say.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± James muttered. ¡°I know.¡±

    Dahlia ceased her walk, her hand pulling James¡¯ stride to a sudden stop. The Shaman looked up at James, her gaze furrowed and her expression from before gone. She looked almost sympathetic.

    ¡°What?¡± James asked.

    Dahlia didn¡¯t say anything as she approached him, her left hand pulling her scarf down. Without a word, she pulled down James¡¯ collar, bringing him down to her level.

    ¡°Dah¨C¡± James was interrupted when the Shaman kissed him, her heated lips pressed against his. The couple were at a standstill for a moment, the only sound being the faint call of some distant bird. After a couple seconds, Dahlia broke the kiss, her breath coming out in a huff.

    ¡°A Jarl¡¯s duty is an ever-increasing pressure,¡± she whispered softly. ¡°Don¡¯t ever forget to let out that stress every once in a while. Even if you feel vulnerable about it. I am always here for you.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± James muttered. He almost wanted to keep the kiss going, his body aching for more intimate contact. Hell, he was ready to go all out in the forest itself. It wasn¡¯t like anyone was around.

    ¡®Calm yourself, James,¡¯ Faust muttered. ¡®Your duty comes first,¡¯

    The Centurion¡¯s voice was enough to kill the mood, causing James to sigh softly as he stood up straight.

    ¡®Buzzkill,¡¯ James thought. ¡®Fine.¡¯

    ¡°Let¡¯s get going?¡± James offered. He smiled at Dahlia, to which the Shaman returned with a grin.

    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s.¡±

    <hr>

    Frostbite floated placidly in the shallow waters around the island, its sails rolled and its crew resting by its bow. The ship¡¯s hull was near pitch black, the only sense of color on it being the blue skeleton that had its grasp extended across the starboard side of the hull. Alongside it were scrawled runes that were still emanating smoke from recent use.

    Despite its intimidating appearance, the brig wasn¡¯t what James and his Ravens had used for their raid.

    The young Jarl turned his focus to the two longships that were in the shallows. The one he came on was none other than Draugr¡¯s Haunt, a longship that was procured from the very island he was on. Accompanying it was Horuk¡¯s own longship, Freyja¡¯s Revenge.

    The orc¡¯s own ship wasn¡¯t very pretty to look at. It was painted green and black, the symbol of a white raven painted sloppily on its hull. With it were tallies of the monsters Horuk¡¯s clan had hunted. James could count roughly thirteen serpent skulls and five leviathan marks. There were also a couple raptor tallies there. The ship was also clearly falling apart; its sails rotted, and its planks were on the verge of loosening out into the sea. The sight of it made James remember his first meeting with Horuk. He recalled how the orc had bargained for Draugr¡¯s Haunt as a reward for beating James in a duel. That condition made even more sense now that the Jarl had seen the bucket of nails and planks the orcs were using.

    Regardless, it clearly served Horuk well. Judging from the tallies on the hull, the orcs were proficient and deadly enough to rack hunt after hunt, even with the state of Freyja¡¯s Revenge.

    ¡°So, which shall be our chariot home?¡± Dahlia asked jokingly.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Draugr¡¯s Haunt, of course,¡± James said. ¡°It¡¯ll be some time before we can use Frostbite¡¯s gate runes again.¡± He turned to the Shaman, who had her gaze on the treeline behind them. Both of them were at the shore, specifically where the battle had been waged that morning.

    James could see his fellow clansmen set up their camp, Helen leading them around as Haggard lazed nearby.

    Helen had taken over the place of captain and trainer for the new clansmen of the White Raven Clan. Other than Felix Arlo, she was the only qualified one to take the job.

    The former marauder was a veteran of the Outsider Wars, a conflict that had once ravaged both Valenfrost and Azurvale. She had shoulder-length blonde hair that was pinned back into a tight knot, revealing her bluish eyes. With that and her pale skin, Helen could easily be confused for James¡¯ older sister. Either that or his mother. But nobody ever said that out loud. Not if they valued their life. Despite being in her mid-to-late thirties, Helen was surprisingly full of energy and vigor, her strength never waning. James sometimes doubted she was that old, but those doubts were always washed away whenever he caught her gaze. Something about the vacantness behind her irises reminded him of someone who knew true loss. True war.

    Helen reminded James of Hara¨C

    ¡°Oi! Are you two going to head back to Yorktown?¡± Haggard called out.

    James flinched at that. He was so invested in his thoughts that he didn¡¯t even notice Haggard approaching him and Dahlia.

    ¡°Yeah. Heading home now. Duty calls,¡± James answered with a weak smile.

    ¡°Let me tag along,¡± Haggard proposed. ¡°Nothing else to do here but labor work. Already tired myself out fighting those orcs and burning whatever bodies were left.¡±

    Upon hearing that, James glanced back at the camp, focusing on the dark plume of smoke that rose into the clouded sky. It had become tradition at this point to burn the bodies of those who fell in whatever battle they participated in. Regardless of whether they were enemy or allies.

    Of course, if Malik was around, James would have to allow the necromancer to resurrect whatever corpse he took a liking to. It was sickening work, but he had no choice. Not when he had a pact with the necromancer. If they weren¡¯t turned into undead filler, the bodies were almost always burned. Not because of ancient tradition. No, it was for the safety of everyone around. For the safety of Valenfrost itself. It didn¡¯t matter that James hadn¡¯t seen any remnants of its influence for months. It didn¡¯t matter that the last time was a year ago.

    James did not want to risk that accursed abomination coming back. He swore to himself that he would fight back against it. That he would snuff its unholy existence from Valenfrost itself. Even after all this time, he could still hear the clicks it had made when it was still around. He could still remember the smell of death and the glint of its damned crystals. Just the thought of it made him shiver. No, James wouldn¡¯t give it a chance to come back. Not when he was still alive.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Dahlia asked. Her voice snapped James out of his thoughts, bringing him back to the real world.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he muttered. ¡°You can come with us, Haggard. I don¡¯t see a problem with it.¡±

    ¡°Good to hear,¡± Haggard sighed. ¡°Let us¨C¡±

    ¡°Oh no, you don¡¯t!¡± a distant voice called out. James turned to see Helen stomping her way over to the shore, her eyes glued on Haggard.

    ¡°You have duties to fulfill, Haggard. There is much left to do,¡± Helen almost shouted, her voice echoing out in the air. James glanced over at the man in her focus, who had a look of disparity and annoyance.

    ¡°I did my part,¡± Haggard complained. ¡°I¡¯m not a soldier. Not the kind to do hard labor anyway.¡±

    ¡°Oh yes, you are!¡± Helen shouted. ¡°Did you think signing up for this meant lazing around all day?¡±

    ¡°Well¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut it,¡± Helen raised a hand at Haggard¡¯s attempt at a rebuttal. ¡°Unless Yorktown is on fire, or James has an emergency, your ass is mine!¡± She pointed a thumb at herself as she approached Haggard, who was silently watching with an expression that James had never seen him make.

    It wasn¡¯t like Helen was on par with his height, either. Helen was around the same height as Dahlia, which put her a full two heads shorter than Haggard, who was standing tall at a good two meters. Regardless, the taller man looked to be unnerved.

    ¡®Is she intimidating him?¡¯ James wondered. Then again, he could sort of understand what he was feeling. Just seeing Helen angry was enough to harkin bad memories from when James was training under her.

    He recalled a month ago when he had mistakenly used Faust¡¯s reflexes to deflect an attack. In his defense, the action was almost instinctual. She had berated James for an hour straight, forcing him to practice downward swings for hours.

    It wasn¡¯t like he couldn¡¯t help doing it. Using Faust was a crutch that had proved to save his life multiple times in the past. Helen did not care for that, however. The veteran had wanted James to develop good habits in combat. To be his own fighter and learn his limits. To do that, he had to stop being dependent on Faust. Helen wanted James to not rely too much on the spirit, as there could very well come a time when both were separated once more.

    ¡®She¡¯s right, though,¡¯ James muttered mentally.

    He had become too dependent on Faust. It was because of his inability to fight properly that he lost his brief clash against Arthur, the Outlander who had fought for the Lumen Kingdom. Granted, he was suffering a life-threatening wound at the time. Regardless, James had learned from his mistakes.

    Helen was rough when it came to training. In some ways, she was more brutal than his previous trainer. Yet she cared. That was enough for James. He knew she meant well, just like the man who had once trained him.

    ¡®Yeah¡­¡¯

    James found himself deep within his thoughts, his mind straying towards a distant and painful memory.

    ¡°James?¡±

    Dahlia¡¯s voice snapped him out of his daze. James blinked as he recovered his senses. Helen and Haggard were gone. Upon looking around, he could spot the two walking off to the treeline, Helen in the lead as Haggard dragged his feet.

    ¡°Are you feeling well?¡± Dahlia asked. She frowned as she stepped up, her hands grabbing at his palms. ¡°You¡¯ve been staring off every now and then. Is everything alright?¡±

    ¡°Everything is good,¡± James responded with a smile. He had to force it this time, which Dahlia caught onto quickly.

    ¡°If you need a break, we can always postpone¨C¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± James waved off as he turned away, his hands slipping away from her grasp. ¡°Let¡¯s get back home. We have a clan to run.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Dahlia muttered.

    James didn¡¯t have to turn around to see her expression. He only continued to walk towards Draugr¡¯s Haunt, its White Raven emblem beckoning him onboard.

    The clan wasn¡¯t going to run itself. Not when there was more work to do. With every day, there was more work. More people to talk to. More disputes to settle. More territory to expand to. The White Raven clan was almost like a child to him. He needed to nurture it, feed it, and help it grow.

    He could probably have someone like Silas or Dahlia watch over it, but even he knew it would not do. James needed to be there for the clan. It needed him to be there for it. Without him, the work would only pile up, and the problems would just get bigger.

    Valenfrost was big. It was also merciless and unrelenting. His clan was but a small blob on its map. If he wanted to expand and unite the south, James would have put his all into it. He had to.

    It wasn¡¯t like it was bad for his health. James also had to keep himself busy. It was almost like a symbiotic relationship. James would put work and effort into the clan, giving it the growth it needed. In return, the clan would keep him busy.

    Busy enough for him to avoid the voices that lingered in the back of his mind. The voices that came anytime there was a moment of silence or peace. The voices that told him that he was guilty.

    That he was responsible for the deaths of Harald Stroud and Bjorn Farkas.

 B.4 Chapter 6: Homebase

    Water lapped against the hull of Draugr¡¯s Haunt, the waves of the black sea rocking the longship as it traversed through the darkening sea. The day was ending soon, and with it came the unbearable darkness that was nighttime.

    James watched the ocean from the rear of the ship, the salty wind brushing against his dark cloak. He tapped his fingers sporadically on the railing, his focus on the hull as the waves relentlessly crashed against it.

    Tap tap tap

    With every second, the waters grew louder. The wind turned deafening. James¡¯ sporadic tapping grew faster and faster, his fingers going numb from the cold.

    Tap tap tap

    James bit his tongue as the sounds grew overbearing, to the point where it threatened to make him go deaf. The waves sounded like tidal waves, the winds similar to hurricanes. His taps were akin to gunshots, each one echoing out in his mind.

    It¡¯s your fault.

    James stiffened at that, his taps faltering. Regardless, he continued. He did his best to disregard the distant voice in the back of his mind.

    You know it¡¯s your fault.

    James was silent. He concentrated on tapping on the rail. His focus was on the sounds that filled his ears. He was certain to go deaf.

    It¡¯s your fault it¡¯s your fault it¡¯s your fau¨C

    ¡°Love?¡±

    Dahlia¡¯s voice cut through James¡¯ thoughts, bringing him back to reality. He blinked in surprise, the sounds of his surroundings now back to their normal volume. James looked up at the cloudy sky, which darkened little by little as the day ended. The lack of light made it hard for James to make out anything, as even the people on deck were unrecognizable.

    Regardless, James didn¡¯t have to squint to know where Dahlia was. He shifted in his spot, his gaze moving to the Shaman in his arms. She was resting her head back on his chest, her amber eyes looking up at him with a sense of worry.

    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Your heartbeat,¡± Dahlia muttered. ¡°It went up. That, and you¡¯re fidgeting again. What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. Nothing is wrong.¡± James flashed her a smile in an attempt to comfort her. ¡°I¡¯m just thinking about the errands I¡¯m going to have to run once we get home.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that,¡± Dahlia whispered. Her hand gently reached over to grab at his, stopping the young Jarl¡¯s tapping. ¡°It¡¯ll be nighttime soon. Best if we both head to bed once we get to the island.¡±

    ¡°You know I can¡¯t do that,¡± James responded with a sigh. ¡°I still need that physical from Malik. It¡¯s that time of the month again.¡±

    The physical James was referencing was the one Malik the necromancer had proposed not long after the midsommar incident. Once a month, Malik would do a full examination of James. The necromancer would scry his ley lines and study the bond between him and Faust.

    Surface level, it made some sense. James had been hit with the raw power of Azura¡¯s ley lines on the verge of death. The fact that he was alive after such a power increase was a miracle. It made sense that Malik would examine James afterward to study the aftereffects of such a thing.

    The real reason James wanted these physicals done was to make sure that abomination didn¡¯t infect him with some kind of sickness. He wanted to be damn sure that he wasn¡¯t at risk of turning into those things.

    He didn¡¯t care that it promised him that there would be no side effects. There was no way in hell that he¡¯d take its word for it.

    ¡°Can¡¯t it wait?¡± Dahlia groaned.

    ¡°No,¡± James sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll be too busy tomorrow. I need it done tonight. Sorry.¡±

    Dahlia visibly frowned at that but didn¡¯t say anything. Instead, the Shaman simply rested her head back on James¡¯ chest, her hand still holding onto his. Both of them were silent, the only sounds being the movements of the longship and the idle conversations the surrounding crew were having.

    It wouldn¡¯t be long before Yorktown was in view, the island¡¯s distant lights acting as a beacon for the ship. James watched as the distant harbor grew closer, the buildings that made up the town becoming visible. He could see a multitude of other ships docked at the bustling harbor, their bluish sails lit by the lanterns that hung by their mast.

    Those were trader ships from Areno, sent in by Tahir¡¯s own company. What had once been a couple of ships passing by had turned into a full stream of merchants. All of them were varying in destination and purpose. Some were from the capital Dallah, their destinations set on the bigger cities such as Vindis and Bernis. Others were coming from the far north, their sights set on heading back to Areno after a long voyage in Valenfrost.

    A few however, simply came to visit the hometown of the Draugr. The man who was the stuff of legends in the south. They came to trade with the island, to barter with the locals. It wasn¡¯t like the town was solely offering fish anymore.

    The refugees from Aldren had once been artificers and smiths, their craft enough to warrant commendation from Yorn Halvorson himself. It was natural that they were skilled enough to start a trade on the secluded island, selling their services and stock to Arenian traders.

    There were also the plays Elaine the bard had set up. Ever since the bard had started up her theatrics in Yorktown, her plays had become the source of entertainment on the island. The stories she told were entertaining enough to gain popularity in the south prompting many to come and visit just to witness them.

    James turned to the other side of the ship, where said bard was currently napping. Elaine had come along for the raid, to document and chronicle the event. What ended up happening was that the bard couldn¡¯t handle the violence that had transpired. James felt bad for exposing the young woman to such a sight. Especially since she had been in the frontlines during the midsommar incident.

    Elaine had obviously been scarred by the battle, and it was clear she had never seen such violence up close. It had changed her entire perspective on war and the brutal reality of battle. James could only hope she would recover from the experience.

    James glanced at the island once more, his focus on the mountain that was its centerpiece. The same mountain he had been summoned to. The same one where everything had changed for him. James couldn¡¯t help but feel his chest tighten at the sight of it. Just looking at the mountain was enough to make him nervous.

    For what reason, he wasn¡¯t sure if he wanted to know.

    <hr>

    The harbor was busy, as expected. Despite it being night time, the docks were swarmed with people, the salty air filled with conversation as everyone went off to attend to their errands and jobs.

    Most people here were simple tradesmen and merchants, their focus on transporting their stock and selling it off to anyone who even seemed remotely interested. Some of the folk here, however, were only there to give their greetings and praises to the longship that had recently docked.

    James could see how the townspeople waved and shouted their greetings to Draugr¡¯s Haunt crew, their voices all calling out to James. While he couldn¡¯t hear them properly over the sounds of the harbor, he could make out a couple of the calls.

    ¡°Welcome back, my Jarl!¡±

    ¡°Was your conquest successful?¡±

    ¡°Did you show those bloody orcs hell?!¡±

    James couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at the comments, his cheeks reddening as he stood up from his spot on the ship. He stepped up to the deck bridge, his arms extended as he gestured to the townsfolk who were crowded around the harbor.

    ¡°The conquest was successful!¡± James shouted out. ¡°Aldren has been retaken from the orcs!¡±

    There was a round of cheers and applause, some of the men in the crowd moving to James to embrace him. James didn¡¯t resist it at all. He recognized some of the folks as refugees from the retaken island, their joyous faces telling him that this was something truly important to them.

    ¡°To the tavern! Let¡¯s celebrate!¡± They all shouted together, their voices ringing out into the air. James couldn¡¯t help but laugh at their enthusiasm.

    ¡°As much as I¡¯d like to drink with you all, there is business I must attend to,¡± James called out.

    The crowd around him lost their energetic mood, their groans sounding out.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, once the week is over, we shall all share a drink,¡± James reassured them. ¡°Besides, the rest of the brave men and orcs are still at Aldren. It¡¯d be unfair to celebrate this victory without them.¡±

    His words gained a few answers of approval, some of the townsfolk nodding their heads.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Now then, if you mind¡­¡± James watched as the crowd parted, clearing a path for him in the harbor. The young clan leader looked back at Dahlia, who was watching all of this with crossed arms and a smile.

    Both Shaman and Jarl walked off into the settlement of Yorktown unbothered.

    <hr>

    Elaine was probably not cut out to be a bard. At least, that¡¯s what it was starting to look like. The young woman hadn¡¯t been able to handle the violence at the Aldren raid, her stomach lurching at the sight of blood. She had thought that maybe, perhaps, hopefully, she had gotten over her fears after the mess that was Midsommar.

    She had faced death right in its face during that fateful night, her bardic castings enough to help change the tide in battle. It was a song of valor in the making, a story to be sung about for generations.

    Yet, whenever Elaine attempted to write the story in song form, images from that night came to her mind. The mangled corpses, the puddles of crimson that pooled around her as that necromancer collected his prize.

    Elaine held back the urge to heave as she stepped onto Yorktown¡¯s harbor. She swallowed hard, her fist lightly hitting her chest. Perhaps Elaine was never supposed to be a bard. At least, not the kind who followed prospective heroes and chronicled famous battles.

    James was someone with potential. Dangerous potential, but potential nonetheless. Elaine recalled something Master Alder had taught her back in the academy of the arts. The I/C line was a gauge for bards to follow as they searched for heroes to follow. Elaine racked her brain as she tried to figure out what I and C stood for.

    ¡®I stands for Idiot¡­ and I think C stands for¡­Chemist? No, it was a trade.¡¯

    Elaine had never been the best when it came to remembering lessons. Regardless, the I/C line taught bards that they should look for someone who didn¡¯t lean too far in either idiocy or mediocrity. If they followed someone dangerous, chances were that despite living in constant action, they¡¯d eventually meet their end soon. Which would leave them dead and their bard with little to chronicle.

    However, if the person they followed played things too safe, then their lives would be unbelievably boring and uninteresting. Like a carpenter.

    ¡®Oh, that was it,¡¯ Elaine thought as she walked through Yorktown. She had to squeeze her way past the crowds as she mulled over her past lessons, her focus mostly on just getting to the small hovel she called home.

    Elaine thought about James and where he¡¯d fit on the I/C line. She initially thought him to be perfectly set in the center, but now she wasn¡¯t sure. He was dangling ever so nearer to danger, his spot on the line stupidly close to the Idiot. Then again, Elaine couldn¡¯t really blame him for his bad run of luck. The man had nearly died during the Vindis battle. Hel, she was so sure that he did die. Elaine had watched on as James was kicked into the deep sea, his body a bloody mess.

    Even now, she wasn¡¯t entirely sure what to make of it. Her songs and stories were on a hiatus for the moment, as the entire night of battle was still fresh on her mind. The pain and the exhaustion all weighed heavily on her soul.

    ¡®Master Alder never told me it¡¯d be this hard. How¡¯d he do it?¡¯

    Elaine sighed in defeat. Yes, maybe following heroes into dangerous frays wasn¡¯t her style after all, despite all the work she put into finding someone fit for her ballads. Perhaps it was time to try something new without all the hassle of putting herself in constant danger.

    With a practiced motion, Elaine slung her lute into her hands, her fingers thoughtfully plucking a couple strings as she entered a much less crowded area of town. There, the sounds of people were dampened to be much more tolerable.

    She played a couple light songs as she walked, the notes comforting her. At least she had the arts. Music would always be there for her, its soothing touch comforting. Elaine would play her lute as she mumbled a couple of old bard songs, a skip in her step as she made her way through Yorktown. After a minute, she would forget what it was that had her upset.

    As she walked through the narrow streets, Elaine couldn¡¯t help but catch sight of one of her posters on a nearby wall. A new play was scheduled for later that week. She grimaced at the sight. The plays, while entertaining and profitable, were beginning to drag on her. It had been fun for the first couple of months, but it had grown tiring as she was forced to redo plays and rehash storylines.

    ¡®Perhaps it¡¯s time to try something new,¡¯ Elaine thought as she passed by the poster. She had some ideas, most of them stemming from the rumors of where James had come from. Earth sounded interesting despite what little she managed to gather. Perhaps she could talk with the Jarl about it sometime.

    Elaine whistled softly as she headed home.

    <hr>

    In the months following Bloom, the White Raven clan had contributed to building new homes and shops, growing the town beyond its borders. Even the once-burnt part of town had been remade into an extension of the marketplace, leaving more room for opportunity.

    James knew how important it was to expand on that part of Yorktown. The economy was vital to the settlement¡¯s growth. The importance of trade was unspeakable. It was the dawn of civilization, the reason why cities and towns existed in the first place.

    The marketplace of Yorktown was filled with traders and merchants from everywhere. From the isolated hamlets in the midst of the island, to the passing merchants from Areno. It brought everyone together and strengthened the town.

    James recalled the first time he had been here, back when he was still a newcomer to this world. The many small stands and tents that were set up around the marketplace, their owners trading goods with townsfolk and local fishermen. It had only been a year back, yet James looked back upon that day as a fond distant memory.

    So much had happened since then. The marketplace had even diminished, its cobbled and worn road accompanied by only dust and the wandering drunk. It had been like that until James brought back merchants and traders to Yorktown, increasing his standing and revitalizing the town.

    It took a lot of work¡ªand some bribes¡ªbut James had eventually brought the town¡¯s market square back to its former glory. If anything, he probably overdid it.

    ¡°There¡¯s more people here tonight,¡± Dahlia murmured as the couple pushed past a crowd. Both of them had their hoods up, making sure they wouldn¡¯t be recognized in the busy market.

    ¡°I suppose Vindis is floating closer this time of the year,¡± James guessed aloud as they passed by two men who looked suspiciously like thieves.

    ¡°Great,¡± Dahlia said with a grimace. ¡°More people to navigate through. Even New Aldren is getting hard to walk through without bumping into anyone.¡±

    ¡°Town¡¯s growing faster by the month,¡± James pointed out. Despite filtering all those who came to visit and interviewing those who wanted to live here, the island was increasing in population like crazy. James obviously didn¡¯t want to overdo it, as too many people can spell out disaster for the growing town. He had some ideas and suggestions from the council, but he needed some time to think it over.

    ¡°Is it bad to say that I miss the days when there was no one on the streets?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°If I¡¯m being honest,¡± James grunted as he squeezed through another chokepoint in the street, his left hand still gripping onto Dahlia¡¯s. ¡°I kinda miss the ghost town feel.¡±

    Both got through the crowded center unscathed, the streets of Yorktown opening up a little more and allowing them to walk side by side unbothered. James couldn¡¯t help but let out a small sigh of relief, his gaze moving to Dahlia. Despite the hood covering half her face, he could see a hint of the same feeling he had. Relief.

    ¡°How¡¯s deciphering that tome of yours?¡± James asked as they walked on for a bit. Dahlia perked up at that, her eyes twinkling as she looked up at him.

    ¡°Shaman Dres¡¯ tome?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Who else?¡± James raised an eyebrow at her question.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve been working on interpreting some other works,¡± Dahlia admitted. ¡°Malik allowed me to look through some tomes he had on hand.¡±

    ¡°Malik¡¯s tomes?¡± James asked. That gave him some worry. If she was studying necromancy¡­

    ¡°Just some things on rituals and undead,¡± Dahlia said nonchalantly. ¡°Things that could help me understand your condition some more.¡± She then noticed James¡¯ discomfort. ¡°I¡¯m not planning on using any of the spells there, of course. Don¡¯t worry about me.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± James said with a nervous chuckle before he decided to change the subject. ¡°Anything interesting about Dres¡¯ tome?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°He¡¯s mentioned some interesting things, things that can help. But¡­¡±

    ¡°Nothing useful?¡± James guessed.

    Dahlia shook her head. ¡°No, there are a few useful tidbits of information. He mentions something called Chrystalchemy. Not sure what exactly it is, but from what I¡¯ve managed to gather from his notes, it¡¯s a type of magic that can store power into crystals.¡±

    James raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°Like spell crystals?¡±

    ¡°No. Not like that,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°Spell crystals can only store low-power spells. Castings like Illuminate and Communicate. They¡¯re more like cheap alternatives to runes. The crystals Shaman Dres mentioned¡­ They seem to store something else entirely. Like reserves.¡±

    James slowed his walking, his brow furrowing. ¡°Like spell reserves?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m hoping for,¡± Dahlia muttered. ¡°His notes mention that if consumed, the user can use its reserve of power. However, he failed to specify the extent of its effects. I still need to read up on all his journals.¡±

    James recalled the stacks upon stacks of books that were stored away in the hut he and the Shaman shared. They had all been Shaman Dres¡¯ tomes and journals, his teachings and entries all stored in them. Despite knowing him for years, Dahlia had barely scratched the surface of those tomes.

    She hadn¡¯t been invested in learning much magic until Yorktown was threatened for the first time by rogue bandits. Dahlia had then read up on summoning demons from the late Shaman¡¯s books, which had resulted in James¡¯ own summoning.

    Which in turn caused a domino effect that resulted in her vigorously researching what she could to figure out ways to protect the town and her friends. Even after over a year of this, Dahlia had only managed to get through one stack.

    ¡°Don¡¯t push yourself too hard,¡± James mentioned. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to stress yourself out too much.¡±

    Dahlia narrowed her gaze at him. ¡°Quite rich coming from you.¡±

    James couldn¡¯t help but laugh at that. ¡°I suppose it is, huh?¡±

    They both continued on their walk through the town, lamp posts, and lanterns illuminating the night and falling snow. Townsfolk laughed and joked as they passed by, their expressions a far cry from what they had been a year prior.

    James even recognized some of them as folk who had once helped rebuild the burnt town buildings. Either from constructing new homes, or simply sweeping ash from the streets and alleys. Now they walked about with smiles and grins, some going into their steady homes and others sweeping the snow from the main path.

    The couple would eventually reach a courtyard out in the center of town, where more people walked about to reach their destinations. Most of which ended up being the tavern that sat nearby.

    The same tavern where James met Seamus for the first time. Where he had planned with Felix to defend the town from the marauders. Where he drank and danced with his friends during Bloom.

    Of course, the reminiscing soon turned to dreadful remembrance when he laid eyes on the courtyard again. He focused on a spot near the center, its stone covered by snow and dirty footprints. Yet, he swore he could still see the dried pool of crimson and the drag marks that led to the east.

    James felt Dahlia tug at his arm, her whispers reaching him. ¡°Let¡¯s go. It¡¯s getting late.¡±

    He nodded, and they both headed off to the town¡¯s border, where the forest awaited them.

 B.4 Chapter 7: Eye of the Beholder

    James shivered as the winds of the night brushed against him, the cold biting through his woolen cloak. Regardless, he pressed on the path up the mountain. A part of him wanted to call it for the night and go back to accompany Dahlia to the hut. Another part reminded him of the importance of getting his physical done. The sooner he got it done, the sooner he was at peace of mind.

    Thankfully for him, the night sky was parted enough to allow Luna and Callisto to shine their bluish glow upon the small mountain, allowing James to see properly on his way up.

    ¡®I wonder if Nathan is still here,¡¯ James idly thought. It would be convenient to find the Wizard up here with Malik since James wanted to discuss potential castings for the future. Even though he had just gotten both Jump and Instant Reflex, James felt as if he could fit in another in his arsenal. His daily reserves had improved these past months, going from four a day to five.

    ¡®Best we hold from adding more castings,¡¯ Faust commented. ¡®You already have Carapace, Power Strike, Instant Reflex, and Jump. Not to mention the cryomancy spells you learned, Ice Lance and Summon Ice. For the moment, we have more castings than reserves. Not good for someone who isn¡¯t a Mage.¡¯

    James frowned at that but didn¡¯t argue. He knew better than to question a veteran like Faust, who had years of experience.

    ¡®Good point,¡¯ James mentally acknowledged. ¡®I guess we can hold off until I earn another spell reserve.¡¯

    ¡®More than one reserve,¡¯ Faust corrected. ¡®At least two more before you even think about getting another. Don¡¯t forget, Physical Castings affect more than your ley lines.¡¯

    The spirit was correct. James had learned the hard way that Physical Castings had another cost to them outside of the magic in his internal ley lines. There was an energy cost to them. Not the magical kind, no. It was the biological, metabolic kind.

    Stamina, vigor, whatever it was called. That was what Physical Castings relied on outside of his ley lines. They determined how strong or long a casting would be. James had learned this the second time he used Carapace, back on Aldren before it burned down. He had nearly died due to the heavy cost of keeping Carapace on that entire day. If it wasn¡¯t for Haggard dragging him off the island, he would have surely died.

    Back then, James had initially thought it to be the stab wound that brought him down. He was surprised to find out it wasn¡¯t. Dahlia had explained to him a long time ago that he had simply collapsed out of malnourishment. Apparently, Carapace was a casting that was only supposed to be used sparingly. If one were to overdo it¡ªor, in his case, leave it active for the day¡ªthe body would simply wither away whatever energy it had left before it gave out.

    James had to learn how to ¡®turn it off¡¯ soon after that explanation.

    Still, it didn¡¯t stop his body¡¯s metabolism from increasing like crazy. Ever since Midsommar, James had to eat twice as much to keep up with his body¡¯s natural energy consumption. It didn¡¯t help that Instant Reflex was burning through his stamina and vigor effortlessly.

    ¡®You think it has something to do with that¡­ revival we went through?¡¯ James asked.

    ¡®Hard to say. It¡¯s clear your body went through a great change after what happened,¡¯ Faust muttered. ¡®What exactly changed is hard to tell.¡¯

    ¡®My cryomancy has improved, but I doubt it¡¯s to the point where it would cause my metabolism to skyrocket like it has,¡¯ James thought. ¡®You don¡¯t think that¡ª¡¯

    ¡®Don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡¯ Faust interrupted.

    ¡®I¡¯m just saying. If there¡¯s even a chance¡­¡¯

    ¡®There isn¡¯t. I would¡¯ve noticed immediately,¡¯ Faust assured. ¡®There is no way in hel that that thing implanted another spirit in your body.¡¯

    James stopped his walk for a moment. He mulled over those words, his mind going back to what he had seen that night. Back when he thought he was crossing over to Helheim itself. He was met in that endless white plan by Gryff. The Lumen Knight he had fought last year. The first man he had ever killed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, kvitravn.¡±

    Those words were burned into his memory. The idea of Gryff¡¯s spirit being implanted into his body¨Cnot unlike Faust¨Cwas a haunting thought.

    Then again, James and Faust hadn¡¯t sensed any presence in his body for the past four months. There weren¡¯t any indicators that the knight was a part of him.

    ¡®Besides, Malik would have probably said something if he sensed something like that,¡¯ James reassured himself. The necromancer had told him these past months that there wasn¡¯t much unusual going on with James. Outside of his increased metabolism and strength, there wasn¡¯t a trace of another spirit in him. That at least gave him some respite.

    ¡°Speaking of Malik¡­¡± James continued his walk up the mountain, which was soon coming to an end. He could see the cliff that oversaw the town below, as well as the endless horizon of the black sea. This was also the same place he had come to spread his father¡¯s ashes a year back.

    James turned to his far left, his focus on the cave entrance that led deeper into the mountain. Its small, almost unnoticeable entrance was lit with torches that were supported by long sticks. Beside them was a raven guard, his blue tabard marked with a white raven.

    James attempted to remember the guard¡¯s name in those few seconds of walking. Not long after his clan had formed, he made an effort to memorize all the men who served under his banner. Granted, it was a very difficult task. Especially with how many new recruits had come by these past months. Still, James wanted to put himself through the effort. He himself knew how important it was that he got to know these men. Especially if they were putting their lives on the line for him.

    ¡®Besides, I¡¯ve been through my fair share of jobs where the managers never bother to remember my name. Especially that one guy who only called me by a whistle and snap.¡¯

    That incident was kinda funny at the time, but it had gotten old quick. James didn¡¯t want to repeat the same mistakes as that employer.

    The young clan leader noted that the guard ahead was missing half an arm, making him stand out in a way. There was also the unruly black hair that was visibly underneath his helmet. Add those two defining features together and¡­

    ¡°Jonas, right?¡± James called out as he walked his way to the cave.

    ¡°Oh, Jarl Holter!¡± The guard snapped out of whatever daze he was in, his eyes focusing on James. ¡°Yessir, I¡¯m Jonas Harris. Most people refer to me by my last name, sir.¡±

    ¡°Is Malik here?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Yessir! He¡¯s been here all day, actually,¡± Harris revealed. ¡°At least, that¡¯s what the last guard posted here told me¡­¡±

    ¡°Good man,¡± James said as he patted the guard on the shoulder. ¡°I won¡¯t be long.¡±

    ¡°Yessir, I¡¯ll keep watch!¡± Harris called out as James walked into the cave.

    James would walk along the narrow hallway of stone, which was lit with candles and magical orbs of light, a result of the Candlelight spell. James could feel a sense of nostalgia from the hallway. He remembered the day he went through here the first time, Dahlia hot on his tail as he ran for his life.

    The memory was almost distant and faint, despite it transpiring a year back. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that so much had happened since that fateful day. It had all blurred into one long memory. One that barely gave James a break in between conflicts.

    Marauders. Lumen Knights. Orcs. Abominable creatures. James had faced it all.

    ¡®The only thing missing is a Kasani assassin,¡¯ Faust mused.

    ¡®Don¡¯t jinx us, asshole,¡¯ James responded.

    Both man and spirit had a chuckle at that, their small banter ending as soon as the hall came to an end. James could see how the narrow stone hall opened up ahead, revealing a large chamber that was lit with floating torches. The plentiful light was enough for James to see two of the room¡¯s occupants, both of which were occupied with the pool of water that was in the room¡¯s center.

    The first man was dressed in wine red robes that were clearly showing their age and use, as evidenced by the frayed ends and the visible tears. He wore a pointed hat that had its brim and crooked tip sewn back together, the silver stitching reflecting the torchlight. At the base of the hat were multiple golden pins that shone and glinted, even in the sparse light. This man was none other than Nathan Arkanus, the Wizard who had given James his first casting.

    The second man wore a black cloak over his dark purple robes, his sleeves rolled back to reveal intricate tattoos. Some of them seemed to have a practical use, as they glowed with magical power. Others served nothing more than represent visages of death and despair, showcasing skulls and wispy souls of the damned. These tattoos ran their way up the necromancer¡¯s face, where they developed into nothing more than faint black lines that ran across his gaunt cheekbones. The necromancer had his face turned away, but James could still see the tattoos and the pale¡ªalmost white¡ªblond hair Malik Ymir sported.

    Both Sorcerers were standing side by side, their focus on the black pool of water in front of them. The same pool of water where James had been summoned all those months ago. The same one that was currently being used by the necromancer to seal an artifact of great power.

    James moved his gaze to the pillar of water that was extending out of the pool, magical runes burned into its surface as it contained a small, glowing orb. Upon closer inspection, the orb was actually an eye. An eye whose iris was a crystalline purple, the pupil shaped unnaturally like that of a four pointed star. Which glowed a blinding white.

    ¡®Beholder eye,¡¯ James recalled its name.

    It was the symbol of the Mad King, an old children¡¯s tale that was supposedly myth. A story that was supposed to warn of ambition and desperation. Yet here it was in front of James. Taken from the Sorcerer who had threatened Vindis back in Midsommar. The same Sorcerer Seamus had killed.

    James recalled the first time he came across the cursed object. He had at first refused the idea of Seamus facing off against someone with such a distinct power. That was until he saw the site of the battle itself. He remembered the destroyed room, its floors and ceiling ripped apart and splintered beyond recognition.

    It had all been burnt to a char, with signs of fighting everywhere. There were even spikes of ice that protruded from the ground, a couple of them half melted. All of it was accompanied by the overpowering scent of blood and ozone.

    In the middle of it all was the head of the man Seamus had decapitated. His lone eye had stared out at James with a look that seemed to accuse him.

    The clan leader held back a shudder at that mental image. All that mattered now was that the threat was gone. That the danger had passed. Now, all they had to do was study the eye and figure out how the Sorcerer had managed to be cursed with them.

    ¡°How¡¯s progress?¡± James asked as he approached the two spellcasters. He couldn¡¯t help but stare at the eye in front of him. Despite Malik casting a blind spell on the pillar, James still felt like he was being watched by it.

    ¡°Nothing substantial,¡± Malik muttered as he stood up straight. ¡°It¡¯s difficult to learn and study it in its current state. Without it being attached to ley lines, the eye is basically useless.¡±

    ¡°We managed to learn a couple things out of it,¡± Nathan mentioned. ¡°We know how it casts spells without words of power.¡±

    ¡°Ah yes, that,¡± Malik shifted his hand at the pillar of water, causing the eyeball to turn around. The necromancer pointed at the exposed nerve endings that were hanging out the eyeball¡¯s rear. ¡°You see those exposed nerves hanging out? Quite normal for regular eyes like ours. However, do you see those peculiar long ones?¡±

    James looked at where the necromancer was gesturing towards. He could see that there were a couple of abnormally long strings hanging out. Now that he was focusing on it, he could see that their ends were barbed.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Normal eyes don¡¯t have those,¡± Malik pointed out. ¡°With some deduction with Nathan here¡ªand some dissection of that Sorcerer¡ªwe found out that these barbs dig deep into the skull, reaching the user¡¯s brain. We concluded that the eye receives direct thoughts as commands, which would explain the mist that Sorcerer used during the Midsommar battle. It also could explain why he was able to cast spells without using their words of power.¡±

    Nathan nodded. ¡°Add it with what I saw during the fight, it seems like the pupil forms the runes whilst the user casts it with their thoughts.¡±

    James shivered a little at the thought of Malik dissecting the corpse of that marauder Sorcerer. Even if he was a terrible person, the thought of a manic necromancer splitting his skull open sent a chill down the clan leader¡¯s spine.

    ¡°Knowledge is power,¡± James muttered.

    ¡®Then again, some power is best left unfound.¡¯

    ¡°I suppose so,¡± Malik sighed. ¡°But I was expecting this to be my breakthrough. A Beholder Eye, a name that sends lumen peasants running in fear. A mythical eye that even the King of Stars fought and killed for. A legend that overshadowed the man who had summoned it in the first place.¡±

    ¡°King of Stars?¡± James questioned.

    ¡°Ah yes, you know him as the Mad King,¡± Malik muttered. ¡°Before all that Beholder business, he was known as the King of Stars.¡±

    ¡°He was unlike his brothers, who were all warriors,¡± Nathan spoke up. He had enthusiasm in his voice, like a child talking about his idol. ¡°He was an exceptional Wizard who revolutionized all magic. If it weren¡¯t for his dealings with the demons from the Aether, he would¡¯ve been a legendary figure that could stand shoulder to shoulder with the greats like Juniper or Caelus¡ªwhen Caelus was still a mortal.¡±

    ¡°Tch! Don¡¯t compare him to those ass-kissing shills!¡± Malik shouted. ¡°He was on an entirely different level. He didn¡¯t have to grovel before the Gods for his knowledge. He was the King of Stars, a man who harnessed their power and made it his own!¡±

    ¡°Hold up,¡± James stopped the argument before him. ¡°How come I¡¯ve never heard of him by that name? Was his dealings with the demons that bad?¡±

    He had heard about the Mad King in passing, more as a warning tale for those who grew more ambitious with their ventures. James remembered Seamus¡¯ retelling of that story. Ever since, he had only ever heard of the Mad King being remembered by that name.

    ¡°It was enough to warrant intervention from the other Kings and the Gods,¡± Malik revealed. ¡°The Gods cannot intervene with mortal affairs unless it directly affects them. That¡¯s how you know what he did was bad. As for his name, well it¡¯s not commonly known. Only commendable spell casters will recall him by the King of Stars.¡±

    ¡°Well, I already knew him as such,¡± Nathan pointed out. ¡°I¡¯m not that commendable.¡±

    ¡°Bah, you¡¯re commendable enough,¡± Malik waved off. ¡°Despite being self-taught, you¡¯re surprisingly good at what you do.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Well, thank you,¡± Nathan said, stunned. He seemed genuinely appreciative.

    ¡°Well, I doubt you¡¯re here to talk history with us,¡± Malik said to James as he ignored Nathan. ¡°I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s that time?¡±

    ¡°You know it,¡± James responded with a sigh. ¡°Do I need to sit or¡­?¡±

    ¡°No need,¡± Malik replied as he approached James. His dark eyes examined the clan leader, almost as if he were studying him. ¡°I¡¯ve done it enough times to where I could perform the deed in my sleep.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­good?¡±

    Malik only smiled as he placed a hand on James¡¯ chest.

    ¡°Descry.¡±

    James felt what could almost be described as pins and needles shifting all across his body, his muscles tensing up as Malik¡¯s spell washed over him. His vision went black for a moment. In that small moment, James could feel the ley lines in his body, their connections spread across his chest, arms, legs, and even head. He could feel Malik¡¯s presence inside them, his magic scrutinizing every inch of him.

    It was only for a moment, yet James felt very, very exposed. It was like being laid bare in front of someone else despite being fully dressed. James had to convince himself that it was like a doctor¡¯s appointment. Like he was getting a physical. Yet even that was hard to put into perspective. Especially when it involved magic that peered through his own soul.

    After what seemed like forever, Malik¡¯s magic passed through fully. James¡¯ vision returned, and his lungs finally managed to let out the breath he had been holding for the past couple of seconds.

    ¡°Nothing abnormal,¡± Malik said with a smile. ¡°Wasn¡¯t so bad, was it?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± James breathed out. He couldn¡¯t help but feel a little annoyed at the smug look on the necromancer¡¯s face. It was as if Malik enjoyed putting James through this.

    ¡°Well, I best be going now,¡± Nathan called out. The Wizard had been packing up his chalks and potions into his satchel during that entire ordeal. ¡°I must wake up early tomorrow to catch my ship to Vindis. My shop needs me, even if it¡¯s half burnt.¡± He tipped the wide brim of his hat to both men. ¡°By the way, James, that reminds me. The shop contacted me the other day and wanted to tell you to drop by to grab your set of armor. It seems like Rockford has finished repairing it.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll get to it when I visit Vindis,¡± James responded. ¡°I¡¯ll even pay him for the trouble.¡±

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll let them know,¡± Nathan gave James a wave before he left the chamber. This left the young clan leader alone with the necromancer, who was already back to examining the Beholder Eye.

    ¡°Are you going to be here all night?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Malik answered curtly. ¡°Actually, wait. I need a favor from you.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± James furrowed his brow at the mention of ¡®favor¡¯. It could mean a variety of things, from carrying corpses to bringing him a certain type of ingredient from the black market in Vindis. Whatever it was, James had to mentally prepare himself.

    ¡°You don¡¯t mind me raising undead, do you?¡± Malik asked. ¡°I know we talked about it, but I must know your limit.¡±

    ¡°You can only raise enemy corpses from the dead. Specifically, ones that we had to kill in self-defense,¡± James repeated the terms of their pact from back when they had met.

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Malik asked.

    ¡°Do you have corpses you haven¡¯t raised yet?¡± James asked. He felt disgusted at such a question. It felt immoral to allow the necromancer to store dead bodies around the island. His excuse was that it was a precaution, as Malik could only summon a set number of undead for a certain amount of time. It would make sense that he would keep some bodies around just in case the need arose.

    There was also the fact that the necromancer could enchant the bodies in a way that could protect them from being possessed by the abominations. While James wasn¡¯t sure if it truly worked, he hadn¡¯t seen any crystalized monsters in the past few months. So something was working.

    ¡°Only one I intend to raise,¡± Malik said. ¡°However, I need your permission to do the deed.¡±

    ¡°Why? If they were an enemy, you shouldn¡¯t need it,¡± James pointed out. He almost wanted to leave the conversation then and there. He already felt sick at the discussion at hand.

    ¡°It¡¯s a Lumen Knight killed during the Vindis incident,¡± Malik revealed. ¡°I found a way to break the enchantment Delphine bestowed upon her. I just need your permission to break it so I can raise her.¡±

    ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± James couldn¡¯t help but curse aloud. ¡°Why? Why the fuck would you need to?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s the perfect candidate for a specific ritual of mine,¡± Malik explained as he swept back his hair. ¡°Her sacrifice would benefit us greatly, I assure you.¡±

    ¡°What are you intending to do with her?¡± James asked. He dialed back the hostility in his voice. Hell, he had to force himself not to yell at the necromancer. ¡°Better yet, how are you going to break the enchantment?¡±

    ¡°When the Golden Goddess enchants her knights, she makes it so necromancers like me can¡¯t take their souls. It¡¯s to allow them to pass peacefully into whatever afterlife she has promised them,¡± Malik explained all of this in a ¡®matter-of-fact¡¯ tone, which only seemed to irritate James more. ¡°In short, now that the knight¡¯s soul is gone, Delphine¡¯s blessing isn¡¯t as strong as before. Granted, it won¡¯t be easy to break it, but if done right, we could have a strong pawn on our side.¡±

    James wanted to tell him no. To tell Malik to shove his idea up his ass. Yet he couldn¡¯t.

    ¡®Is this any different from the undead he already commands over?¡¯ James thought to himself.  ¡®No! It¡¯s still wrong. Even without the soul around. Right?¡¯

    ¡®To be fair,¡¯ Faust spoke up. ¡®Most of the undead Malik raised still have some essence of their soul around. It¡¯s how he was able to summon the specters during the Battle for Vindis.¡¯

    ¡®But that was a desperate measure. We were in a dire situation,¡¯ James argued.

    ¡®Who¡¯s to say we won¡¯t be in one again?¡¯ Faust countered, ¡®The Lumen Knight he¡¯s raising won¡¯t be the same one. It¡¯ll be a husk, like most undead. Better if that gets sent to fight rather than someone we know.¡¯

    James bit his tongue at that. The spirit was getting on his nerves. Still, he had a point. The dead were already dead. Malik wasn¡¯t chaining the knight¡¯s soul to her body, not like what the abominations did with their hosts. It was only a husk. A body with no mind or soul. It would be better to have that fight on the frontlines rather than someone he knew and cared about.

    ¡°Dammit,¡± James muttered through clenched teeth. ¡°Fine. Do what you want.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Malik asked with a raised eyebrow. ¡°No arguing about morals? No pointless shouting? Perhaps you¡¯ve changed your views on necromancy?¡± He had a smile growing on the edge of his lips, a sight that pissed James off.

    ¡°Don¡¯t push your luck,¡± James spat out as he turned to the exit. Without another word, he left the chamber, leaving the necromancer by himself.

    Even without looking, James could tell that Malik was grinning.

    <hr>

    The night sky was pitch black, a common sight in the Frost season. It was why most people called it a day whenever the sunset, as the night was far too dark and uninviting to be considered safe to waltz through. But for a certain clan leader, the dark night was nothing more than a leisurely stroll.

    James sighed as he guided the candlelight orb around through his walk in the woods, his eyes scanning the endless woods that surrounded his path from the mountain. The small orb of light was a courtesy from Nathan, who had cast it for James before he had departed to Yorktown.

    As for why James was glancing around like a paranoid, well, there wasn¡¯t really an explanation. He wasn¡¯t expecting wolves to hunt him down, especially since the orcs had nearly hunted all of them down. James had to convince Horuk not to completely wipe the island of all wildlife. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for the entire ecology system to die out completely because of him.

    Perhaps it was instinct to be wary of the night. Or perhaps he was half expecting the abomination to return in full force, to try to assimilate itself with his body once more.

    ¡®Try not to get too carried away with that thought. The last thing I need is another nightmare visit from it.¡¯

    James shuddered at the prospect of meeting that thing in his dreams again, his mind reeling back from the images of deformed corpses and twisted limbs. That frostbitten skin.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± James muttered with disgust. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he willed those memories away. For now, he didn¡¯t have to deal with that thing. For now, he could rest at home with someone who he trusted with his life.

    The young clan leader stopped at the hut¡¯s door, his eyes wandering to the security runes that were burned into the door frame. They glowed a soft green, indicating that he was no threat to the humble shack. He smiled a little before he pushed the door open, his fingers snapping to dispel the candlelight spell that had followed him here.

    ¡°I was wondering when you¡¯d be back,¡± Dahlia called out. The Shaman was resting at the fireplace, her hands shifting the boiling pot of water by the flames. She poured it into two wooden cups, both of which were filled with herbs and leaves.

    ¡°I would¡¯ve made dinner, but I¡¯m feeling a bit exhausted now,¡± the Shaman muttered. ¡°There¡¯s still some dried fruits in the chest if you want anything to eat.¡±

    ¡°No thanks, I¡¯m not really hungry. Tea is perfect,¡± James responded with a smile as he sat down by the fire. He took a heated cup from Dahlia, the scent of mint reaching his nostrils. He took a sip of the tea, and its herbal taste was almost comforting for him. By the time its warmth reached his chest, James felt like he was at home.

    ¡°That hit the spot,¡± James sighed as he set the steaming mug down.

    ¡°So, how was your monthly physical?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°Same old, same old,¡± James waved off the question. ¡°Nothing important.¡±

    ¡°I figured as much,¡± Dahlia muttered as she sipped her tea. James could see how the Shaman scooted closer to him, her hand moving ever so closer to his. ¡°I suppose that leaves us with loads of free time this week, no?¡±

    ¡°Well, there¡¯s still the meeting in Vindis,¡± James mentions. He drank the last of his tea, his breath coming out in a huff of exhaustion. He turned to Dahlia, only to see the Shaman closer than before. She was nearly face to face with him, her cheeks darkening with blush. She had her mug set far aside, its contents empty.

    ¡°I also have to deal with the Jarl from Olafson since he wants to try and renegotiate terms,¡± James went on, ignoring Dahlia¡¯s hand as it slid over his thigh and waist. The Shaman slowly crawled onto his lap, her hands moving up the clan leader¡¯s body.

    ¡°Then there¡¯s more shit I got to deal with, specifically with¡ª¡±

    ¡°James,¡± Dahlia whispered. Her hands cupped his cheeks, shifting his head so that his eyes met hers. James couldn¡¯t help but shut up at the sound of her voice, his cheeks growing warm in her cool hands.

    Dahlia was positioned above him, the fireplace behind her somehow growing in intensity as the heat in the shack increased dramatically.

    ¡®Is it the fire? Or is it her?¡¯

    James couldn''t care less about the heat. He instead was focused on the Shaman¡¯s amber-colored eyes, their irises almost glowing in the sparse light. Her soft and supple lips were curved into a slight smile, her breaths coming out in small huffs. James could catch the scent of herbal tea and the faint traces of rabbit fat. It was intoxicating.

    No words were spoken between the two, but it was more than enough for James to catch the hint. It was time to stop talking.

    James moved to pull Dahlia in, her lips making contact with his as they embraced. His hands traveled up her woolen shirt, his calloused fingers grazing against smooth skin. His exploring soon earned him a soft moan from Dahlia, which only motivated him to keep going.

    Before long, the two had stripped off the annoying pieces of cloth that stood in their way, their hands tossing shirts and other articles of clothing aside. The fire crackled loudly as they went at it, their breathing and moans nearly being drowned out by the sound of crackling embers.

 B.4 Chapter 8: One Night Stand

    Henrick downed his mug of ale before it even had the chance to land on the bar. Golden liquid dribbled down the mug¡¯s rim onto his chin before it finally stained his colored tabard and gambeson. The soldier sighed with relief when he finished his drink, his hand slamming the empty mug down.

    ¡°That hit the spot,¡± he exasperated with a grin. ¡°Another!¡±

    The bartender across from him raised an eyebrow at that, prompting Henrick to slide the man some silver coins. The bartender sighed as he took the money and empty mug. It wasn¡¯t long before he slid the tankard back to Henrick, its rim overflowing with froth.

    ¡°Keep those drinks coming, barman!¡± Henrick exclaimed happily as he drank. ¡°I¡¯m looking to enjoy myself tonight.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re awfully happy for someone from the Lumen Kingdom,¡± the bartender commented. ¡°Especially after recent events.¡±

    Henrick placed his mug down with a light burp, his gaze on the tabard he was wearing. It was the steel blue and orange colors of the Lumen Kingdom, complete with the symbol of a phoenix. He had neglected to change out of his uniform back when he arrived here in Norum after a long voyage at sea.

    Henrick had been out at sea for the better part of five months, his sole job being patrolling the coast of Azurvale and the Lumen-controlled islands in Valenfrost. His deployment finally ended that same day, allowing the soldier to return to solid ground and enjoy himself for the next few weeks before he was called to duty once more.

    ¡°Recent events?¡± Henrick asked. Despite being out on the ¡®frontlines,¡¯ Henrick had little to no knowledge about what was happening with the world at large. His sole focus was getting through his day without being raided and robbed by bandits and pirates.

    ¡®Then again, I do recall some people talking about something that went down in the south,¡¯

    ¡°You talking about that raid on Vindis, the floating city?¡± Henrick asked. He remembered some passing merchants mentioning a huge battle that had taken place in Vindis. Marauders and the like. He didn¡¯t see why those in the north would care about it. Vindis was so far south and east that it seemed irrelevant.

    It was like telling someone in Lumen City that there was a conflict in the Horkus Mountains. Outside of a few outsiders, no one would care much. It was too far away to be considered at all a problem.

    ¡°Yes, Vindis,¡± the bartender said with a confused look. ¡°How much have you heard about it?¡±

    ¡°Enough,¡± Henrick replied as he drank his ale. ¡°Marauders raided it and then fucked off when the other clans came by. Nothing else to it.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ huh,¡± the bartender muttered before he turned away. ¡°I see.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Henrick asked. He only watched as the barman went to tend to other patrons. The soldier shrugged at that and went back to drinking. While this bar wasn¡¯t as rowdy as the ones Henrick was used to, it still was far from quiet. As the night grew late, more people drank and conversed around the bar, their loud voices and laughs irritating the soldier.

    Henrick sighed in frustration as another drunk sat beside him, his hand slamming a handful of silver scraps onto the bar. The sudden slam was enough to wobble the soldier¡¯s drink, nearly spilling it.

    ¡°Gimme what he¡¯s having!¡± the drunk called out in a slur before he turned to Henrick. ¡°Tonight¡¯s gonna be a great night, eh?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Great night.¡± Henrick held back a biting comment as he took a swig from his drink. He knew full well that there was little he could do about this asshole. He was far too tired and drunk to even bother starting a fight.

    The drunkard next to him continued to babble and drink alongside him, his words unintelligible and obnoxiously loud.

    Just as Henrick debated whether to use his dagger on the man to shut him up, the drunk finally quieted down. However, the soldier¡¯s respite was cut short when he saw how green the idiot¡¯s face was.

    ¡°I¡¯ll¡­ be back!¡± the drunk managed before he waddled off to the backdoors of the tavern, leaving Henrick alone finally.

    ¡°Thank Delphine,¡± Henrick muttered in relief. He turned back to his ale, which was still half full. He scowled. That idiot had spoiled his mood.

    ¡°Rough night?¡± a young woman¡¯s voice called out to the right of the soldier. Henrick raised an eyebrow and turned to the source.

    Sure enough, someone was sitting in that drunkard¡¯s chair. It was a young woman, her black hair cut short around the shoulders. She wore a dark, sultry dress, its sleeves reaching all the way to her knuckles while her hem was cut in a V shape, exposing her cleavage enough to make any man blush. With a quick glance, Henrick could see that her skirt was raised to her thighs, revealing pale, milky skin. Its material was that of a lavender color, mixed with segments of black cloth. It looked expensive.

    ¡°My eyes are up here,¡± the stranger spoke. Her voice was soft yet husky. Every word she spoke almost tickled at Henrick¡¯s ears. The feeling would¡¯ve made him visibly blush had it not been for the fact that the man was drunk.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Henrick apologized with a laugh. He turned his focus to the stranger¡¯s face. Her dark hair was brushed in a way that it hid half of her face, leaving only one of her eyes visible to him. She wore black lipstick, contrasting with her pale skin and faint freckles.

    Henrick blinked. She was stunning, almost hypnotic in a way. He nearly thought her to be Valian but dismissed it once he saw what color eyes she had. Purple. That was new. Henrick had never seen such an exotic eye color. Perhaps she was Kasani? No, Henrick had met Kasani. They had dark, almost black eyes that were almond-shaped. This woman had the features of an Azurevalian mixed with Valian. Perhaps she had parents from both nations?

    That made the most sense to Henrick.

    ¡°Are you starstruck?¡± the woman asked suddenly. Henrick jumped at the sudden question, his hand moving to brush some of his hair back.

    ¡°Nah, I¡¯m alright,¡± he deflected. ¡°The drink is just getting to me.¡±

    The woman laughed, her elbow moving to rest on the bar. ¡°Did you have one too many, perhaps?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± Henrick answered with a laugh. ¡°What about you? What¡¯s a beauty like you doing in this dunghole of a tavern?¡±

    ¡°Beauty?¡± She blushed, her gaze averted from the soldier. ¡°Just call me Kira. I¡¯m only here to have some fun. Drink a little and blow off some steam.¡±

    ¡°Kira, eh?¡± Henrick chuckled as he sipped his ale. ¡°I¡¯m here on similar business. I just got off a job that had me at sea for five months.¡±

    ¡°Five whole months?¡± Kira asked. She turned back to Henrick with a look of shock. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine how stressful that must have been.¡±

    ¡°It was quite the job,¡± Henrick admitted. He wiped some sweat from his brow as he placed his tankard down. The drink wasn¡¯t helping. ¡°Bandits, raiders, you name it, I fought them.¡±

    ¡°You must be so exhausted after such a long time,¡± Kira muttered as she scooted her chair closer to Henrick.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe,¡± Henrick nervously chuckled. He tugged at his collar as more beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Was it getting hotter? ¡°I barely had the energy to walk here.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps I can help,¡± Kira proposed. She was closer now, her hand on Henrick¡¯s leg. The soldier couldn¡¯t help but shiver as the young woman rubbed at his thigh, her figure moving closer to him. ¡°I bet you¡¯re pent up, huh? Like you¡¯re going to burst.¡±

    Her soft words were barely above a whisper, yet Henrick could hear them clear as day through the tavern¡¯s commotion. He could do nothing as Kira reached up to his ears, her lips gently brushing against his lobe.

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°I have a room upstairs. Perhaps we could let out some steam together.¡±

    No words were spoken after that. Henrick could only remember paying his tab before he went upstairs with Kira. Only once the two entered the empty room did they start letting loose.

    Henrick wasted no time getting the young woman undressed. The silky dress she was wearing fell to the ground with little to no effort. To his surprise and delight, Kira wasn¡¯t wearing anything underneath.

    Both drunkard and vixen got into the bed soon after that, the former groping and fondling while the latter undid his armor. It wasn¡¯t long before Henrick got his own clothes and taberd off, his pants being the first to hit the ground of course.

    Moans soon echoed out into the room, with Henrick using whatever vigor he had left in him to thrust and grab, his breathing heavy and hot as he pinned the woman to the bed.

    ¡°Excited, are we?¡± Kira giggled before she moaned, her body shifting underneath the soldier¡¯s. Before long, she would place hands on Henrick¡¯s chest, pushing him back gently. Kira would get on top right after, her voice calling out to Henrick in the form of a whisper. ¡°My turn.¡±

    Henrick did not argue. He instead watched as the young woman began to straddle him, her purple eyes almost glowing in the dimly lit room. It was probably the trick of the moonlight that poured into the room.

    Henrick could feel the fog close in on his mind as Kira moved her hips, the pleasure of her thrusts almost comparable to a succubus¡¯. Not that the soldier had ever experienced such a thing before.

    His hands reached for the woman¡¯s hips, his eyes traveling up Kira¡¯s form. She had a beautiful body, skin with little to no flaws, and curves almost perfect. She had her arms raised high, exposing her breasts to Henrick. She¡­ had her arms raised?

    ¡®Wait¡­¡¯

    In that moment of clarity, Henrick¡¯s eyes moved up to focus on Kira¡¯s hands. While sparse, the light of the sister moons was enough to catch the glint of the steel dagger in the woman¡¯s hands. The same dagger that Henrick had kept on him.

    ¡°Oh fu¨C!¡±

    Henrick couldn¡¯t react in time as Kira plunged the dagger¡¯s tip into his throat, sending spurts of blood all over the two naked figures. He tried to move but found himself restricted. Kira had pinned his neck to the bed below, nailing Henrick like a butterfly.

    Henrick gasped and choked, his hands weakly trying to pull the dagger. Kira did not let up, however, as her grip on the blade was strong and firm. Henrick couldn¡¯t do anything. Even before the blood loss and stab, he was physically exhausted from that day. There was nothing he could do other than to look at his killer.

    Kira had a cold look, her eyes glowing a bright, magical purple as she watched. Her nude body was covered in scarlet blood, the sight almost demonic and unholy. Henrick could feel his vision waning as he choked and gagged on his own blood, his body going weak.

    ¡°Tsk tsk tsk. Not yet,¡± Kira reprimanded softly. She leaned in, her lips curving into a slight smile. ¡°I still need what¡¯s in that head of yours. Try not to pass out while I do this, alright?¡±

    Kira lifted Henrick¡¯s chin, making it so he was looking at her eye to eye. Now that she was up close, Henrick could see why this woman¡¯s eyes were glowing so fiercely.

    Kira¡¯s irises were that of a crystalline purple color, her pupils shaped like a burning star.

    ¡®What, what in Delphine¡¯s name is this?!¡¯

    Henrick¡¯s thoughts were panicked and terrified.

    ¡®This isn¡¯t real! This isn¡¯t real!¡¯

    ¡°Oh, but it is, my dear Henrick,¡± Kira muttered. ¡°It is real, and unfortunately, you drew the short stick.¡± Kira gave him a smile as she pressed her free hand onto his forehead. ¡°This will be quick.¡±

    Henrick¡¯s world went black as the demonic woman before him ripped through his memories.

    <hr>

    Kira sighed in relief, her body resting as she closed her eyes. That was draining. And disgusting. At least she got what she wanted from Henrick¡¯s mind.

    ¡°Took you long enough,¡± a gravelly voice called out from the shadows behind her. Kira groaned and turned around. Sure enough, a man hid there, his goggles and grinning mask reflecting the moonlight.

    ¡°Does this turn you on?¡± Kira asked as she gestured toward her bloodied and nude body. Eilif simply stared at her.

    ¡°Wanted to make sure you got the right person this time,¡± Eilif muttered. ¡°Does bedding them do you any good with reading their memories?¡±

    ¡°Not quite,¡± Kira said with crossed arms. Truth be told, the young woman wasn¡¯t really enjoying the act itself. She had done it enough times that it was more like a chore than something pleasurable.

    No, the real pleasure for Kira was the control¡ªthe act of being the one to start it and end it in a glorious fountain of crimson. Her heart fluttered every time she raised that knife, every time she saw the light in these men¡¯s eyes die, their emotions flowing into her as she reached into their minds.

    Kira was blessed with an ability only achievable through the demonic eyes she bore. She wasn¡¯t sure what to call it since she had never encountered anyone or anything that had clues to what this magic was. The closest thing she could come to explaining it was to compare it to the same magic dream weavers used. The only difference is that she could peer into the mind herself, even if the person was awake.

    Kira could experience memories, thoughts, and most excitingly, their emotions. The act of sex might¡¯ve been mundane to her, but the sheer amount of pleasure mixed with fear that she collected from the men she killed was almost intoxicating. It gave her a high like no other, leaving her addicted for more.

    Her master had called it the Blessing of Mind.

    ¡°You can extract their memories without the sex, no?¡± Eilif asked as he stepped up to Henrick, who was still leaking blood onto the bed. ¡°You just need intimate contact, right? I doubt kissing them is any harder than what you just did.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not kissing them,¡± Kira expressed with disgust as she slid off the bed. She went over to pick up her clothes. ¡°There¡¯s not much excitement in that, and it takes up a bit more of my reserves. Men don¡¯t give in just from a kiss. Besides, you know I¡¯m already pining for a special someone.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes. A special someone,¡± Eilif muttered. ¡°A stupid goal. It only hinders you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my ability. Not yours,¡± Kira said as she slipped on her clothes. ¡°I choose who I want to express my love to.¡±

    ¡°Seems quite redundant,¡± Eilif pointed out. ¡°I doubt your special someone would really consider your love if he knew that you¡¯ve had sex with half the drunks in the north.¡±

    ¡°Fuck you,¡± Kira growled. The bounty hunter before her had no idea of Kira¡¯s type of man. She bedded many, sure, but none were random. Not all men were created equal. Some released emotions differently, and others reacted in ways that surprised even Kira.

    Everyone she killed was chosen for a reason. Whether they were men who were hardened veterans with strange quirks or even women who had an interesting history, they had all filled Kira with emotions that were entirely unique to them alone. Henrick was probably the first exception to that in a while. That could explain the lack of pleasure she got from killing him.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky our master favors you,¡± Kira muttered. ¡°If it were up to me, I¡¯d rip your spine out and throw it into the abyssal sea.¡±

    Eilif chuckled. ¡°I would love to see that. However, our mission will come first.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Kira sighed. ¡°Henrick¡¯s memories showed that Lumen patrols have ceased in the south of Valenfrost and are slowly receding. This, and that they know little to nothing about the Midsommar incident. It could be that the Lumen council is refusing to acknowledge it. Either that or the last three Lumen soldiers we looked at were complete idiots.¡±

    ¡°Could be the latter, but I¡¯d rather not take chances,¡± Eilif said as he placed a valdora in Kira¡¯s awaiting hand. Despite them sharing the same master, Kira had refused to work for the immortal man without payment. She might have enjoyed the work somewhat, but she was no common whore working for silver scraps.

    ¡°Could have used scouts to figure that out,¡± he muttered after Kira stashed the bluish coins in her nearby satchel.

    ¡°Your loss,¡± Kira said happily. ¡°Besides, do you really trust anyone else?¡±

    Eilif only sighed deeply, his gravelly voice making it sound like he had glass in his lungs. He looked at Henrick¡¯s body once more, which still lay upon the bed in a pool of his own blood.

    ¡°So I suppose you¡¯re not getting Lumen backing anymore?¡± Kira asked nonchalantly as she finished dressing.

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± Eilif confirmed. ¡°While it is true that Gwenyth has probably already alerted the council of my involvement, it won¡¯t affect us entirely. We won¡¯t get any assistance from the Lumen Kingdom, but they¡¯re not exactly letting me go yet.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re still on our own then,¡± Kira sighed in frustration.

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± Eilif said.

    Kira raised an eyebrow. ¡°Who do you have in mind?¡±

    ¡°I have been busy in the south these past months,¡± Eilif said. ¡°And I¡¯ve found a way we could complete our quest and rid ourselves of Halvorson and Holter.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Kira smiled at that. This was about to get very interesting.

 B.4 Chapter 9: A New Day

    Daylight appeared in the form of orange streaks in the dark purple horizon, signifying the start of morning. For the small fishing settlement of Yorktown, mornings were usually quiet and devoid of life¡ªat least, they used to be. Now that it was a thriving place of trade and commerce, the town was far from what it once was.

    Ships arrived from the distance with the morning sun, their white and blue flags signifying them as peaceful traders coming from the southeast continent of Areno. They would all soon dock at Yorktown¡¯s harbor, but not without first going through the checkpoints that were set up by the Jarl himself.

    <hr>

    The Arenian ship named Korra stopped at one of the checkpoints that were set up around the island, its sails rolling up as it was brought to a stop. Thankfully, the chain that was raised between the two longships wasn¡¯t enough to damage the white painting of a dog that decorated the hull.

    The ship''s owner, Kiwil Samir, stepped up the bow with a raised hand.

    ¡°Greetings, friends! How do you do?¡± the merchant asked the nearby longship. There were two men dressed in blue and black tabards, their chests bearing the symbol of the White Raven.

    ¡°We¡¯re doing well,¡± one guard called out. She was a young woman, her dark brown hair visible underneath the steel helm she wore. At first glance, she looked like a complete rookie. Yet, if one were to examine the calluses on her palms and the distant glare she had, they would be able to tell that this young guard had seen more than her fair share of fighting.

    ¡°Trading company and where are you coming from?¡± the guard asked.

    ¡°Ah, Kate! It¡¯s me, Kiwil! Don¡¯t remember?¡± Kiwil asked. ¡°I¡¯ve been here before!¡±

    ¡°I remember,¡± Kate acknowledged curtly. ¡°Now, trading company and where are you coming from?¡±

    Kiwil sighed. ¡°Tahir¡¯s company. I¡¯m coming from Dallah.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± Kate sighed. ¡°Now, how long are you going to be here?¡±

    ¡°Two days,¡± Kiwil said. ¡°Crew needs some rest before we head to Bernis.¡±

    Kate nodded at that as she scribbled down the details in her small journal. After some muttering, she looked over at the Korra¡¯s crew.

    ¡°Any fugitives, contraband, or illegal runes on board? Are you still traveling with the same crew as last time you came?¡±

    The shipmaster handed the guard the manifest for the ship, the paper detailing all the cargo on board.

    ¡°Nothing illegal or problematic. I¡¯m still with the same crew. Oh, outside of her,¡± Kiwil gestured to the rear of the Arenian vessel. Sitting down amongst the crew was someone clad in a gray cloak, their hood pulled on. ¡°Stand up so the guard can see you! And take that shady hood off.¡±

    The figure visibly sighed in frustration. Regardless, they stood up, their hand pulling the hood off their head. It was a woman in her mid-20s, it seemed. She had short auburn hair that reached to her ears, her once-pale skin tanned reddish. The woman had a makeshift blindfold that wrapped around the left side of her head, leaving her with only one eye that glinted dark green.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± Kate asked the stranger. The guard faltered with her question, almost as if the appearance of the woman gave her unease.

    ¡°Nami,¡± the stranger responded as she approached the bow.

    ¡°You¡¯re from Kasan?¡± Kate guessed. The name and the clothes she wore were a dead giveaway. Yet the hair and eye color seemed off. Perhaps she was from a different part of that country. Kate clearly didn¡¯t know much about the isolated nation.

    ¡°Yes. Driven out some time ago,¡± Nami answered. She shifted with her cloak, revealing a tunic and jacket that was clearly Kasani in origin. On her belt was a satchel, some pouches, and a long knife that was the length of her forearm.

    ¡°What¡¯s your business in Valenfrost?¡± Kate asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m a mercenary looking for work in Vindis,¡± Nami responded. ¡°My things are in the cargo hold. I don¡¯t have any other weapons besides the knife.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Kate said simply. Silence followed her words, complete with the two staring at each other in awkward tension. It was clear that Kate was uncomfortable at the sight of Nami. Yet the guard wasn¡¯t sure why.

    ¡°Could we be going, please?¡± Nami broke the silence with a question. ¡°The day is still young, and I¡¯d like to get a proper meal. Besides, there are more ships waiting to pass through.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Kate muttered. ¡°My apologies for keeping you waiting.¡±

    Nami gave a small bow before she headed back to her spot. Kiwil gave Kate a queen piece before the guard headed back to her longship. Before she knew it, the Korra was back on its due course to Yorktown¡¯s harbor.

    As the ship sailed off, Kate couldn¡¯t help but stare at it. Something about that foreigner felt off. Yet, at the same time, it was eerily familiar. From what, Kate didn¡¯t know.

    She wasn¡¯t sure if she wanted to know.

    <hr>

    The Shaman¡¯s hut was near dark, the only light coming from the smoldering embers in the firepit and the lingering morning light seeping through the small opening in the ceiling.

    James slowly shifted in the bed, his hands rubbing his eyes awake. He blinked a few times before finally sitting upright, his hair cascading over his face like a curtain. He sighed as he brushed it back, allowing his eyes to get a better view.

    ¡®First light already? I guess it¡¯s time to get to work.¡¯

    James stretched for a moment before he finally slid out of bed. Right when he was about to leave, however, his right hand was pulled back by a second party. James smiled a little as he turned back to the warm cot, his eyes spotting a sleepy Dahlia buried underneath a mound of fur blankets.

    ¡°Mmm, James?¡± she muttered. From what James could see from his view, Dahlia wasn¡¯t wearing anything, her nude body mostly covered by blankets and shadows of the hut.

    ¡°I¡¯m heading out,¡± James answered in a low whisper. ¡°Work, remember?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you take a day off today?¡± Dahlia whispered. ¡°I¡¯m sure the clan can survive a day without you.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t. Got to go to Vindis today,¡± James explained. ¡°Meeting, remember?¡±

    Dahlia groaned at that. Her free hand brushed some hair from her eyes, showcasing how tired she looked. ¡°Will we ever get time to ourselves? Even a day would be nice.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± James whispered. ¡°When everything¡¯s said and done, we¡¯ll have a few days for ourselves.¡±

    ¡°Promise?¡± Dahlia asked. She shifted in the bed, her hand pulling James closer. He could see how she leaned in, her expression a mix of hope and worry.

    ¡°I swear by it,¡± James murmured. Right when the words left his lips, Dahlia kissed him. The two stayed like that for a few seconds, their hands tightly held together. Once it ended, Dahlia let out a breath of satisfaction.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to hold you to it,¡± she muttered.

    ¡°Got it,¡± James chuckled.

    <hr>

    The morning sunlight cascaded over the forests of Aldren, its rays of warmth illuminating the freezing woods. In these unending woods, two figures walked side by side, their cloaks flapping slightly against the biting wind of Frost.

    Seamus Halvorson yawned loudly, his lungs taking in the frigid morning air. He took in more than he needed, and the air stung his lungs, forcing him into a coughing fit.

    ¡°Did you sleep well at all?¡± Falrick asked beside him, the Wizard¡¯s breaths coming out in small puffs of steam.

    ¡°No,¡± Seamus muttered as he wiped his mouth. ¡°You know I can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Even after all these months, huh?¡± Falirck commented. He sighed softly and shook his head. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t need someone to help with that? I know a decent Dreamweaver from up north¨C¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Seamus exclaimed. He stopped his walk then and there, his hands clenching into tight fists. He shook his head. ¡°No Dreamweavers. No magic. I¡¯ll be fine. I always have.¡±

    Falrick glanced at Seamus with a look of worry. The elderly man¡¯s lips curved into a frown. He opened his mouth to say something but clearly hesitated. After a second, he spoke.

    ¡°Your mother was the same way,¡± Falrick said softly.

    Seamus perked up at that. He turned to the Wizard, whose gaze was shifted towards the trees.

    ¡°Back when you were but a baby, your mother had gone through¡­ a traumatic event. It was the height of the Outsider Wars, and it had finally found a way to get under her skin,¡± Falrick explained. ¡°She lost sleep, got irrational, and refused to leave the fortress. Rejected any treatment I offered. Even your father got worried.¡±

    Seamus stayed quiet at that, reserving the burning desire to ask questions. He knew there was more to this story.

    ¡°The only thing that kept your mother sane was you, Seamus,¡± Falrick revealed. The Wizard turned to the young man, his tired, dark eyes looking into his. ¡°You were the only one who kept her grounded. Granted, it took a lot more than that to bring her out of that darkness, but the only reason she got out of it was because of you. Not your father, not magic, just you.¡±

    ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡± Seamus murmured.

    ¡°Well, to be fair, I¡¯m not really sure myself,¡± Falrick sighed. ¡°Maybe what I¡¯m trying to say is, don¡¯t dwell too much in your sorrow. You still have family with you. Even if they aren¡¯t blood.¡±

    ¡°Like you?¡¯ Seamus asked.

    ¡°More like the friends you made for yourself these past months. James, Dahlia, Lilith, and even that ex-marauder Helen. You can probably count on that girl you¡¯ve pining for,¡± Falrick chuckled.

    Seamus felt his cheeks heat up. ¡°Kate?¡±

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°You said it, not me,¡± Falrick said with a smile. ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid to confide in your friends. They¡¯re there for you. They¡¯re not going anywhere.¡±

    Seamus was quiet for a long, long while. He mulled over his thoughts at that time, thinking about Falrick¡¯s words.

    ¡°What was it that got my mother into such a dark place?¡± Seamus asked softly. Falrick stiffened up at that, his eyes darting away from the young man.

    ¡°Seamus, what do you remember of your family?¡± he asked. ¡°From whatever memories you have left, what do you remember?¡±

    Seamus shifted his gaze to the cloudy sky, his thoughts going to the memories that he had unlocked during his fight with Eli. He remembered the dream he had of his mother. The same dream that had plagued his mind for the past four months.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°Seamus, I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    </blockquote>

    What did she mean by that? Seamus didn¡¯t know. Hel, he wasn¡¯t sure if he truly wanted to know. All that he was certain of was that she was the one who had awakened him during that fight and gave him the burst of adrenaline needed to finish Eli off.

    Seamus himself didn¡¯t understand how it made sense. His mother¡ªwho had been dead for a year now¡ªsomehow helped him beyond the grave.

    ¡®Then again, it isn¡¯t completely beyond the realm of possibility.¡¯

    Seamus knew that there existed magic that allowed people to speak with the dead. He had seen it firsthand in the form of Faust, the spirit that resided in James.

    Yet, there was something different about the dream of his mother. Something off about it.

    Seamus recalled the memories she unlocked for him, the ones that had rushed back into his head the weeks following the fight with Eli.

    ¡°I remember the fort. The one in central Valenfrost. The same one that Deimos had raided. I remember the training my mother had me go through. Where I learned Flash Strike.¡±

    ¡°What else?¡± Falrick asked.

    Seamus took a second to think before answering.

    ¡°I know that I had an aunt and uncle who lived in Aldren. I had cousins. Lilith and Sigurd.¡±

    Seamus had remembered what had happened to them. What happened to his mother¡¯s sister, Aunt Greta. Those memories had come to him not long after his fight during the Battle for Vindis.

    ¡®Perhaps that is what plunged my mother into despair? No, my Aunt Greta was killed when I was a growing child.¡¯

    ¡°I had another uncle, but my mother said he moved to the Horkus Mountains, far from both Valenfrost and Eastern Azurvale. Other than that, there¡¯s my father¡¯s side. He never had brothers, and he killed his own father¡­¡± Seamus trailed off. ¡°I was an only child, so that rules out siblings. Which means I am the last of my blood.¡±

    ¡°Seamus,¡± Falrick sighed. He turned to the young man with eyes that expressed sorrow. ¡°You were not an only child.¡±

    <hr>

    When he approached Yorktown, the first thing James saw was the new wave of recruits working on their stances and strikes. Their training grounds bordered the town walls. James could see trainees sparring and practicing defense techniques, all of them being overseen by Felix Arlo, captain of the guardsmen.

    Felix had once been a humble archer not long ago, back when James was first summoned to Valenfrost. The guardsman had the unfortunate luck of being the last of Yorktown¡¯s defense, forced to rebuild it all from the ground up in the passing months.

    Thankfully, the guardsmen had flourished and grown, now numbering in the triple digits. James had no one else but Felix to thank for the added strength of his clan. After all, if it weren¡¯t for the guardsman, James wouldn¡¯t be alive. He doubted his clan would even exist if Felix hadn¡¯t helped him from the beginning.

    James gave the guard captain a friendly wave as he passed by the training grounds. Felix raised an eyebrow at that, his hand waving back before calling out.

    ¡°I hope you¡¯ll actually show up for training today!¡± Felix shouted across from the grounds. Almost all the new recruits turned their heads to James, who internally cringed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, but you know how it is!¡± James called back with a nervous laugh. That earned him a look from Felix. ¡°I swear I¡¯ll get back to it when I have time!¡±

    Felix didn¡¯t answer and instead went back to coaching the young archer who was practicing with a bow. James sighed at that before he went on his way.

    ¡®Training is a must, James,¡¯ Faust called out. ¡®The fight with Blood-Ohm went well, but it also showed that you need to refine your stance and swing. You can¡¯t always rely on your magical castings.¡¯

    ¡°I know, I know,¡± James muttered to himself as he shifted the poncho-like cloak he wore over his blue tunic. It was a gift from Dahlia, sown together recently as per his request. He had initially told Dahlia he wanted one like hers because he was worried his standard cape would snag on his equipment and belt. In reality, he wanted it because it simply looked cool.

    ¡®Speaking of Blood-Ohm¡­¡¯

    James shifted his focus to the memories he had extracted from the dead orc. It was all still a blur, a mess of images and recollections. Still, he and Faust had managed to pick out the important details before they had turned into obscured, fuzzy memories.

    ¡®He¡¯s planning something. That¡¯s for sure,¡¯ Faust said. ¡®He moved his clan to some islands far east of Valenfrost, perhaps a month¡¯s sail from Yorktown.¡¯

    In the Abyssal Sea, at that. James knew little of that stretch of ocean, but he knew well that it was avoided by traders and travelers for good reason. No one dared to sail into it for fear of never coming back. Yet Blood-Ohm had ventured far into it without fear. The dead orc¡¯s memories confirmed that.

    ¡®Any chance that he got consumed by some leviathan?¡¯ James asked hopefully.

    ¡®I¡¯d bet he¡¯d sooner consume one rather than be taken down by it,¡¯ Faust said. ¡®Blood-Irk isn¡¯t a threat we can take lightly. Sooner or later, we will have to confront him.¡¯

    ¡°I know,¡± James sighed aloud. ¡°We just need to strengthen our defenses. Our people.¡±

    The White Raven clan was in a good position. Its populace, extending from Yorktown to the houses that flew his colors in Vindis, extended into the thousands. The guardsmen and soldiers were also growing, with different garrisons stationed on small islands near Yorktown and Vindis.

    Yet James felt like it wasn¡¯t enough. He had seen the orcs¡¯ brutality in person and their leader¡¯s strength firsthand. They weren¡¯t something to brush off easily. He needed strength. In both clan power and personal strength. He needed to aim higher. Only then will he sleep well at night.

    ¡®One day. I¡¯ll be strong enough.¡¯

    An image flashed through his thoughts, one of Deimos. The man who had killed him. The man who had raided Vindis and threatened to sink to the bottom of the ocean. James still had a ways to go before he could even think about winning against him one-on-one.

    ¡®Patience, James.¡¯

    James would soon arrive at his destination, which was the town hall. The same town hall where he once had to testify for his actions last frost. The same place where he had found out he was dying last Bloom. In fact, now that he thought about it, there wasn¡¯t much good from here.

    James wasn¡¯t a believer in superstition¡ªat least, not the earthly kind¡ªbut he was seriously convinced that there was something malicious about this building.

    ¡®Regardless of what you think, you still have to go in,¡¯ Faust said. ¡®Don¡¯t come up with excuses to evade your duties.¡¯

    ¡®Fine,¡¯ James internally groaned. With a deep breath, he went through the double doors.

    <hr>

    ¡°Far before the war, before the barbarians and the Lumen Kingdom invaded Valenfrost¡¯s waters, your father and mother had tried to make a life for themselves. After the disaster that was Kjor¡¯s rampage, Yorn wanted to settle and make peace with himself. Both he and Isabelle, your mother, wanted nothing more than to grow a family. And so they did. I was there when Yorn¡¯s firstborn was introduced into this world. I remember the name they gave to him.

    ¡°Einar Halvorson. Named after the man your father called brother. His family name was in honor of your great-grandfather, Halvor the Great. Yorn felt as if it would be a curse to put his own name on his son, as Kjor did for him.

    ¡°Einar grew to be an amazing boy, his hair a fiery red and his eyes a dark sea blue, just like his mother. Ah, but he inherited the bravery and spirit of your father. Einar had a fire, unlike Yorn, and he learned to fight as soon as he was able to. Back then, your father was a different man. He had wanted Einar to grow up peaceful and rational, using only violence as a last resort. Of course, you remember him for the exact opposite.

    ¡°You see, Seamus, things changed once the Outsiders Wars began. Back when all hel had broken loose. While Yorn¡¯s own clan was strong enough to fend off enemy forces, things were bound to take a turn for the worse. Not long after you were born, a fortress in his territory was raided by barbarians. Little Einar was there when it happened.

    ¡°I am not sure why he did what he did. Perhaps he wanted to prove to Yorn he was a fighter. Perhaps he had the same drive for battle he once had. Whatever the reason, Einar had charged headfirst into battle, carrying Yorn¡¯s own sword as he did so.

    ¡°From what I can recall, Einar was wounded heavily in the fray. Yorn had tried to save him, but the child was taken by the barbarians. They didn¡¯t even leave a body for him to bury.

    ¡°After that, Yorn changed. Isabelle changed. Events had shaped them into the people you knew. Your mother and father grew overprotective of you, each in their own way. Your mother, Isabelle, wanted to keep you sheltered in the main fort, never wanting to leave the island. Your father, Yorn, wanted to train you to fight since the day you were able to walk. He wanted to make sure you would be able to fight for yourself. To be good enough to take on any threat. To be able to kill.

    ¡°That is why Yorn was so demanding of you. He cared for you, Seamus. Perhaps he was too harsh. Perhaps. But he loved you all the same. He wanted nothing but the best for you. The same went for your mother. She taught you what she could, hoping it would keep you safe.¡±

    Seamus listened silently to Falrick¡¯s story as they walked, his thoughts processing every word. He did his best to remember any bit of it, hoping it would reopen any memories. Nothing came from it. He didn¡¯t recall a single bit of it.

    ¡°Seamus?¡± Falrick prodded. ¡°Do you remember any of it? Did your parents even tell you?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think they ever did,¡± Seamus muttered. ¡°I can¡¯t recall anything like what you said.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Falrick sighed. His hand shifted the brim of his hat, the snow on its crooked tip falling off as a result. Both men stopped at the entrance to the vault, its fallen roof and sparse rubble covered in white snow.

    ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking, Seamus,¡± Falrick said. The Wizard turned to Seamus, his hand loosening the scarf around his mouth so he could speak clearly. ¡°You weren¡¯t a failure or a replacement for Einar. You were loved by both your parents. Especially Yorn. Don¡¯t dwell on it for too long. And don¡¯t forget, you have friends who do care about you. Don¡¯t be afraid to talk to any of us.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Falrick,¡± Seamus responded in a puff of steam. There was an air of silence that followed his words, the snowfall around them absorbing every bit of sound. It was almost eerie.

    Without saying anything, Seamus made his way to the dilapidated vault, his hands adjusting the scarf around his mouth.

    <hr>

    The harbor was buzzing with activity, with various merchants and crewmen walking to different destinations. Some headed off to the marketplace in hopes of selling off some of their stock. Others simply made their way to the nearby inn, hoping to get some actual rest and food after their weeks of travel.

    Amid the crowded docks was the ship Korra, its crew offloading some crates of items to sell off. Kiwil stood nearby, accompanied by a guardsman who held a clipboard of sorts.

    ¡°Name?¡± the guard asked.

    ¡°Kiwil Samir,¡± the merchant replied with a sigh.

    ¡°Cargo?¡±

    ¡°Spices, booze, and a shipment of Hokako leaf,¡± Kiwil described. He pointed at the lit cigarette he held between his index and thumb. ¡°Unwrapped, of course.¡±

    ¡°Business in Yorktown?¡± the guard asked.

    Kiwil raised an eyebrow at the question. ¡°Just a rest stop before we head off to Bernis. Maybe some trading in the marketplace with some of our excess stock. Already told Kate at the checkpoint.¡±

    The guardsman scribbled all of this down on his journal, his mutterings inaudible. After a minute, he nodded. ¡°Alright, are there any weapons on board or on your person?¡±

    ¡°Only a dagger on me and a couple of my men,¡± Kiwil said. ¡°A couple of swords on deck as well for self-defense. Oh, and the mercenary who came with us.¡±

    ¡°Mercenary?¡± the guard asked.

    ¡°Yes, her, Nami,¡± Kiwil gestured to the cloaked woman who had just stepped onto the docks, her lone eye watching the two as they conversed.

    ¡°M¡¯am! Do you have any weapons on your person? Or on the ship?¡± the guardsman asked.

    ¡°I have a dagger for self-defense. The rest of my gear is on board,¡± Nami answered.

    ¡°Would you mind telling me what you brought?¡±

    ¡°I would mind. What I have on the ship is none of your business. I don¡¯t plan on taking it off board,¡± Nami responded with a narrowed brow. The guard seemed stunned at her answer. He almost looked like he was about to argue, but he quickly disregarded that course of action. Kiwil could see the look that passed over his eyes. It was as if the guard had decided then and there that it wasn¡¯t worth it.

    ¡°If you take any weapons beyond the harbor, we will have to confiscate them and arrest you,¡± the guard warned. ¡°Be very careful. Don¡¯t try anything in this town. The people here have seen more than their fair share of conflict, believe me.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± Nami responded, almost coldly. The guardsman¡¯s warning seemed to have little impact on her.

    ¡°Enjoy your stay,¡± the guard said before he walked off.

 B.4 Chapter 10: Departures

    Seamus tossed aside another melted sword, his boot kicking the surrounding rubble. The vault was proving difficult to traverse through, especially with the amount of stone and melted objects in the way. He had hoped there¡¯d be more salvageable items, but he was proven wrong time and time again. He was close to giving up before his eye caught a glimpse of something poking out from under a piece of rubble.

    Seamus guided his candlelight orb to the object, its steel glinting in the light. He pushed the debris off with his boot, finally revealing it. It was a mangled piece of armor, specifically a bracer. Yet, it looked strange. Seamus wasn¡¯t sure why until he picked it up.

    ¡°I remember this,¡± Seamus muttered. This was part of the armor set he had worn the day Aldren had burned down. Lowe had stripped it off because of its weight and unwieldiness. Back then, Seamus didn¡¯t care to see what it looked like. Now that he was holding the strange thing, he almost wished he saw what it was in its original state. The bracer was mangled and half melted, its steel warped. Even with that, he could clearly see that there was something peculiar attached to it.

    ¡®Are these mechanisms?¡¯

    There were what looked to be moving parts and gears, and its design was almost reminiscent of something he would see in Nathan¡¯s shop.

    ¡®Perhaps I should take this to the gnomes? Maybe even Rockford might know what this is.¡¯

    Seamus decided to hold onto it for later.

    ¡°Did you find anything?¡± Falrick¡¯s voice called out. The Wizard was currently somewhere deeper in the vault, his candlelight orbs visible from afar.

    ¡°Just something that could prove to be useful,¡± Seamus called back as he carried the mangled bracer to the entrance. It was far too large to be put into his satchel. He would rather have it sitting outside instead of carrying it everywhere in the vault.

    The sky outside was still a muddled gray, snowfall making itself present. Seamus sighed as he stepped out of the dark vault, his eyes watching the snowflakes descend.

    ¡°Enjoying Frost?¡± a voice called out.

    Seamus tilted his head to the source, only to see Helen standing above the dilapidated vault, her hands on her hips as her woolen cape flapped in the slight breeze. She was wearing her blackened armor¡ªthe same she always wore¡ªover fur-lined breeches and a jacket. Seamus noted the large White Raven symbol she had painted over Deimos¡¯s red handprint. He wondered why she never got rid of the armor itself despite having the coin to afford something of better quality.

    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t hate it,¡± Seamus sighed. ¡°It¡¯s peaceful. Sort of. Maybe it¡¯s the silence that comes with the snow and lack of nature. I find it nice.¡±

    Helen snorted at that. ¡°That¡¯s one way of putting it. I personally find Gale superior.¡± The veteran walked her way down the cliff that hung above the fallen vault, her boots finding purchase within the slanted rock and dirt.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be departing soon to Yorktown. I¡¯m just here to collect anything valuable to bring back to the coffers,¡± Helen admitted.

    ¡°I know. James contacted Falrick earlier about it,¡± Seamus responded. ¡°We have a crate of Valdoras, some swords, a couple shields, and this.¡±

    He held out the mangled bracer to Helen, who tilted her head at the sight. She narrowed her gaze as she picked it up, her eyes examining it. ¡°Where¡¯d you find this?¡±

    ¡°It was part of an armor set,¡± Seamus explained. ¡°A Lumen Knight¡¯s armor set.¡±

    ¡°Lumen?¡± Helen asked with raised eyebrows. ¡°Where¡¯s the rest of the set?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­¡± Seamus didn¡¯t exactly remember what happened to it after the events of Aldren¡¯s fall.

    ¡°I wore it when I escaped the vault last year. Going by what happened that day¡­¡± Seamus trailed off. Outside of a few pieces that had fallen off during his run through the burning island, the main pieces were probably sitting somewhere in Frostbite¡¯s cargo hold. ¡°Have we cleared Frostbite¡¯s cargo since then?¡±

    ¡°You mean to tell me that you left an invaluable set of armor in the cargo hold of a dinky ship?¡± Helen asked. There was a sense of rising tension in her voice.

    ¡°To be completely fair, that dinky ship has artifact-level runes engraved in its hull¡­¡± Seamus commented meekly.

    Helen pinched the bridge of her nose as she let out a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to check if it¡¯s still there once I leave. Until then,¡± she placed the bracer on top of one of the crates before hefting it up with both arms, ¡°I¡¯m going to load up the ship and prepare for our departure.¡±

    ¡°Is Haggard heading with you?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°No, he¡¯s staying behind to watch over the outpost. He still needs to fulfill his duties here,¡± Helen said. ¡°Mind helping me with this? The sooner I get home, the better I¡¯ll sleep.¡±

    ¡°I suppose you could use the extra help,¡± Seamus muttered. He picked up one of the crates on the ground. ¡°It¡¯s a long walk from here to the docks.¡±

    ¡°Falrick won¡¯t mind?¡± Helen asked as she walked up the steep incline.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be fine. Falrick is here on his own business,¡± Seamus explained.

    ¡°What¡¯s that again?¡¯

    ¡°Nothing important. Promise.¡±

    <hr>

    James looked over at the harbor, his eyes scanning the massive crowd of people that were gathering around. He wasn¡¯t aware that there would be this many people, let alone enough that he had to have a group of orcs act as his bodyguards as he waded through.

    ¡°Is the ship ready?¡± James called back to Dimitri, who was currently loading up Draugr¡¯s Haunt with cargo.

    ¡°Almost ready,¡± the shipmaster called back as he lugged one more barrel of brew. This was a new batch of liquor brewed by none other than Gladis, the barwoman who ran the tavern in Yorktown. She and Haggard had been working on the new batch for quite some time, and James hoped it¡¯d be enough for Markov to accept.

    The liquor business in Vindis was becoming problematic as time passed. The high standards of the Thieves Guild and competitive businesses were doing their damndest to run James¡¯ business out. He was beginning to wonder if it was even worth it.

    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡®Don¡¯t think like that. Bjorn wouldn¡¯t give up on this, so why should I?¡¯

    The late dwarf had given his all to this business, working tirelessly through night and day to make sure he got the brew right. James didn¡¯t want his lasting legacy to be for naught.

    ¡°We¡¯re good to go!¡± Dimitri¡¯s voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. James turned to his right, his gaze focusing on the older woman who was waiting impatiently on a crate.

    ¡°Shall we?¡± James asked Nora, who perked up at his voice.

    ¡°It¡¯s about time,¡± she muttered as she stood up.

    Nora was a councilwoman for Yorktown back when they had a council. She had once been what James would call a ¡®Control Freak.¡¯ She even wanted to exile James for his supposed involvement in the Siege of Yorktown. Correction: She did exile him. James only managed to stay after he had defended the town from Lumen Knights during last Frost.

    ¡®Fun times.¡¯

    Now, James had Nora accompany him on his trip to Vindis, specifically for his meeting with the city council that oversaw Vindis as a whole.

    Despite owning half the city, James still had a duty to show up for these meetings. He was supposed to discuss the future of Vindis and make decisions that were supposed to hold weight. At least, that was what he was told. In reality, for the past three meetings he¡¯d been to, James had been chewed out by councilmen and politicians, most of whom wanted nothing more than for him to leave the city for good.

    Attending those meetings was rough since James would barely get a word in before he was called out for being a filthy ¡®Outlander¡¯ and the cause of all their problems. It had taken a toll on his sanity and reminded him of the times on Earth, back when his supervisors would drag him into their office to yell about stuff that wasn¡¯t even his fault.

    James had decided to change things up this time and bring along the one person who had reached this level of annoyance for him. Nora was his answer.

    ¡°What?¡± Nora¡¯s voice brought James back to the waking world. He didn¡¯t even notice that he was idly looking at her. The councilwoman was looking down at him with a confused and annoyed expression. Despite being short¡ªroughly 5¡¯4 in height¡ªNora still had an air of authority. Her black hair was tied into a tight knot, allowing her eyes to be fully seen, complete with crow¡¯s feet and the occasional wrinkle.

    Nora looked to be in her mid-to-late forties, with some gray accompanying her hair. If James squinted, he could swear she resembled his old boss, Kim. It gave him a bit of nostalgia and kinda freaked him out.

    ¡®Comparing a boss who actually cared to a woman who nearly sent me out to die. Wild.¡¯

    ¡°You remind me of an old friend from my world,¡± James chuckled as he passed by Nora, his feet stepping onto the longship. The councilwoman huffed at that but said nothing.

    As James got comfortable, he felt a cold shiver wash over him. He went stiff, his instincts all on high alert. He quickly scanned the harbor, where there were still crowds of people.

    ¡®What¡¯s wrong?¡¯ Faust asked, the Centurion sounding confused.

    ¡®I¡­ I¡¯m not sure,¡¯ James thought back. He could have sworn that something from the harbor had triggered this sensation. It was like a warning signal, a feeling that alerted him of something dangerous. Yet he could only see merchants, townsfolk, and the occasional drifter.

    ¡®My senses are all messed up. Maybe I¡¯ll talk to Nathan about this when I get to Vindis.¡¯

    As much as James wanted to stay and figure this out, he felt that it wasn¡¯t worth acting on a hunch that even Faust didn¡¯t sense. He¡¯d rather get the day over with first.

    ¡°Dimitri,¡± James called out to the shipmaster. ¡°Set a course to Vindis. We have a meeting to catch.¡±

    <hr>

    Seamus set down the last of the crates on Frostbite, his hand wiping the beaded sweat on his forehead. He let out a tired breath, his gaze moving to Helen. Despite the trek across the island, the veteran didn¡¯t look tired. She looked more lively, actually, her grin growing as she carried a second crate over her shoulder. The same one Seamus had struggled to carry earlier.

    ¡°Maybe if you trained a bit more, you¡¯d have an easier time,¡± Helen said. She even had a hint of amusement in her expression as she set down the crates.

    ¡°I do train,¡± Seamus said in a breath. He took a second to let himself rest on the deck, his hand brushing his sweat-soaked hair back.

    ¡°If by training you mean swinging your sword a hundred times against the same dummy, then I suppose you¡¯re right.¡± Helen sat down on a nearby crate, her hands undoing her hair bun. ¡°But we both know that it¡¯s not.¡±

    Seamus stiffened at that. He remained quiet for a while, his mind going back to the recent times he had been at the training center. He had been going nearly every day, practicing his swing and running laps. For any normal trainee or guard, that was good enough. But Seamus wasn¡¯t normal. He wasn¡¯t the average guardsman.

    Seamus knew how to use his sword. He knew how to run. He had spent nearly all his life training those aspects of himself. Repeating these actions every day served next to nothing for him. It was like running in place.

    ¡°Of course, there¡¯s nothing wrong with keeping your skills sharp and your endurance up. Yet I can¡¯t help but feel there¡¯s something else to what you¡¯re doing,¡± Helen muttered. Her hair fell down to her shoulders like a row of curtains. ¡°I have been in your place before. I know you¡¯re still angry at yourself.¡±

    ¡°What are you on about?¡± Seamus answered back with gritted teeth. ¡°Do you think I¡¯m trying to cope with what happened in Vindis?¡¯

    ¡°I think you¡¯re trying to do the impossible,¡± Helen countered calmly. ¡°You¡¯re trying to be stronger. To be your father. I think you¡¯re exhausting yourself to your limit, hoping you¡¯ll break through and reach a point of strength that¡¯s enough to save everyone.¡±

    Seamus recoiled at that. He went silent for a second before he responded. ¡°What do you know about me?¡±

    ¡°Not much,¡± Helen admitted with a shrug. ¡°All I know is that you¡¯re scared. Have been for the past year. That¡¯s what I¡¯ve managed to gather.¡±

    Seamus didn¡¯t know what to say. While he never doubted Helen¡¯s perception skills, he didn¡¯t realize they went this far. The boisterous ex-marauder was now replaced by a worried mentor, her words speaking truths that not even Seamus knew.

    He stood up, his gaze not meeting with Helen. Without a word, he began to walk off to the deck bridge.

    ¡°Seamus,¡± Helen called out to him. ¡°You don¡¯t have to lie to us. To your friends. We¡¯re here for you.¡±

    Seamus stopped at that. He didn¡¯t know how to respond to that. How could he?

    ¡®I know you all are there for me. The problem is that I don¡¯t know what¡¯s wrong with me.¡¯

    There was a sense of dread deep inside his chest, the feeling resurfacing every time he thought about his new home and friends. He was scared but wasn¡¯t sure of what. Was he afraid of losing everything like that fateful day a year back? Or was it something more? Something to do with memories he hadn¡¯t recovered yet?

    ¡®There¡¯s a part of me missing. I know it.¡¯

    Seamus didn¡¯t know what it was, but he knew it had something to do with the vision of his mother he had witnessed during Midsommar. It was a puzzle that still needed to be solved, perhaps sooner rather than later.

    ¡°I¡­ I think I know what I have to do,¡± Seamus muttered to Helen. He turned back to the veteran, who watched him in worry. Without another word, he headed off to the open hatch of the ship, where the descending stairs beckoned him.

    Helen took the hint and left the young man alone as she called over the crew for Frostbite. As the men readied the ship for sailing, Seamus found a comfortable spot beneath the deck and sat.

    ¡®Staying on this island probably isn¡¯t helping with my mental state, anyway,¡¯ Seamus thought. The last thing he needed was a constant reminder of a lost past. ¡®Best I get home. Besides, I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve kept Kate waiting long enough.¡¯

    With a dry chuckle, Seamus rested his head against the hull, the movements of the waves almost lulling him into a deep sleep.

 B.4 Chapter 11: The Representative

    Despite clouds covering every inch of the sky, James could clearly tell that it was still mid-day. He looked back at the sea, his eyes spotting the distant floating city of Vindis. Thankfully for him, the city had floated closer south this time of the year, making the trip to its docks much shorter. Draugr¡¯s Haunt was also quick with its smaller size and crew, making it all the faster.

    James watched as the ship barricade up ahead opened up for him, allowing him through without much hassle. It probably had to be due to the fact that his ship flew the White Raven flag, letting the guards know that he owned half the city.

    He caught a glimpse of Argyle, the dwarf that was in charge of the ship barricade. He could see the sunken look on the dwarf like he had been losing sleep.

    ¡°Hey, Argyle!¡± James called out as his longship drifted past. ¡°How are you doing, man? Everything alright?¡±

    Argyle blinked at his shout. The dwarf turned to James with a weak smile, his hand waving. ¡°Just a bit tired, Red Slayer! Don¡¯t worry about me.¡±

    James frowned a little at that but didn¡¯t say anything as his ship made its way to the docks.

    ¡®I hope he¡¯s doing alright.¡¯

    Argyle was one of the few who had survived the marauder¡¯s first wave of attacks during the Battle for Vindis. The dwarf only managed to survive by using the floating bodies of his guardsmen to stay above the water. When James and his men had found Argyle, he was mute and unresponsive. It took some time before he was able to talk and return to duty once more.

    ¡®It¡¯ll take some time, but he¡¯ll be fine. He won¡¯t be all there, and he certainly won¡¯t be the same, but he¡¯ll make it,¡¯ Faust muttered.

    ¡®I hope you¡¯re right.¡¯

    <hr>

    The streets of Vindis were bustling with activity, with a variety of people flooding the harbor. Merchants, adventurers, mercenaries, escorts, and even the occasional bounty hunter, judging from the pins they wore on the hem of their cloaks. If James were to focus, he could even spot a couple of thieves blending in with the locale.

    They were dressed as ordinary folk, ones that shouldn¡¯t catch anyone¡¯s attention. That was if one weren¡¯t to look for specific details, such as the green cloaks on their backs or the unique boots they wore. With that in mind, James spotted a merchant man and escort with these defining features, their eyes glancing at him every now and then. He caught the gaze of one who was looking for too long and gave her a wink. The thief instantly flushed before she disappeared into the crowd, possibly to notify Markov of James¡¯ arrival.

    ¡°Convenient,¡± James said under his breath. Now, he didn¡¯t have to go visit the Master Thief in person. Markov knew where he docked his ship and would pay for the barrels at the set price both men agreed on. Thief¡¯s honor. That is if thieves had any honor¡­

    ¡°Did you say something?¡± Nora asked.

    ¡°Just talking to myself,¡± James admitted. ¡°I tend to do that a lot.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Nora muttered. She shifted uncomfortably as she walked, her gaze moving to the city around her. It was clear that this was Nora¡¯s first time seeing buildings as tall as these. Even James, who had lived in a modern-day city for a few years, couldn¡¯t help but gawk at Vindis City with admiration.

    Maybe it was because it was so vastly different from what James was used to. The tall buildings here were almost monolithic, made up of mostly brick with little to no windows. There was also an influx of people everywhere. While the late nights were sparse with people, mid-day was another story. There were so many people in the markets and harbor that James had to count himself lucky for not getting trampled.

    Speaking of night, the darkness was also prevalent despite it being mid-day. That was due to the lack of lighting. Even with lampposts and magical lights, Vindis was near pitch-black at night. The city was something that still surprised James, even after all the time he had spent in this world. It reminded him that there was more to discover and figure out in Valenfrost.

    ¡®For now, however, we have business to attend to.¡¯

    James sighed at that thought. There was a part of himself that wanted to do nothing more than to adventure and conquer. To explore and discover secrets. To form a party. He could almost see it. Dahlia would be the healer. Falrick was obviously the Wizard. Seamus would be the fighter. Haggard would be a great tank. And James would be the vanguard. There to cover up any of the party¡¯s weaknesses and support them.

    ¡®Ah, but we both know what happens to adventurers,¡¯ Faust commented.

    James faltered at that. He remembered the young adventurers he had seen in Vindis before it had been raided. It was only after the Midsommar Incident that he saw what had become of them. Most of their party was dead, and the two survivors were injured and scarred to the point of permanent damage. Deimos didn¡¯t care enough to finish them off completely, so he left them to their fates at the hands of marauders.

    James clenched his fist at the memory. He was reminded of his goal, his one objective.

    ¡®One day. One day, I¡¯ll be strong enough. I¡¯ll wipe that fucking smile off his face.¡¯

    Even if it meant his end, James would do anything to make sure Deimos paid his dues.

    <hr>

    James and Nora stopped their walk once they reached the main center of the city. James moved his gaze to the tower in the middle of the large courtyard. It was like a spire, its height dwarfing all the other buildings in the floating city. This was their destination, where the meeting would take place. James couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit nervous. Even standing here, in the same place where he had nearly died, he felt his nerves get the better of him.

    ¡®I can handle the dangers of battle and the looming threat of death, but meeting diplomats seems worse. Funny.¡¯

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Nora asked. The councilwoman raised an eyebrow at James, her body language relaxed and her arms crossed.

    ¡®She¡¯s not nervous,¡¯ James noted. He mentally facepalmed himself. ¡®Of course she¡¯s not. Nora¡¯s been doing stuff like this for years. I¡¯ve literally just been forced into this a couple months ago.¡¯

    James shook his head and took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m good. Let¡¯s go?¡±

    With that, both of them made their way through the doors.

    The first thing James noted was the glowing totem that sat in the center of the room, its pulsating runes emanating a magical glow. This was where Dahlia and her team had fended off Lumen soldiers. Where they had fought to protect the totem. Had it not been for Malik and his army of undead, Dahlia and her team wouldn¡¯t be alive.

    ¡°Am I to believe you¡¯re the Jarl of the White Raven clan?¡± a voice called out from James¡¯ left. He turned to see a portly-looking gnome next to a couple of the city guards. He had spectacles over his reddish nose, his graying hair swept back. He wore what looked like expensive clothes, the pin on his cape signifying him as someone from the Merchant¡¯s Guild.

    James noted the lack of thief boots and cape, which meant this particular man was not affiliated with Markov or the Thieves Guild. Whether that was going to prove to be a problem was something James was going to find out soon.

    ¡°Yes, I am James Holter,¡± the Outlander answered. ¡°You are¡­?¡±

    ¡°Thaddius Arclong. Head of operations for the Merchant¡¯s Guild in Haven,¡± the gnome answered with a sniffle. He pulled out a small white handkerchief before blowing into it. ¡°Please pardon me, I am quite ill. I am not so used to a city like¡­ this.¡±

    ¡®Haven? You don¡¯t think Frue Margeret sent him here?¡¯

    ¡®Only one way to find out,¡¯ Faust responded.

    James rubbed the back of his neck as he watched Thaddius blow his nose. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you here before? Is there a particular reason you¡¯re visiting Vindis?¡±

    ¡°That is something I much rather disclose upstairs,¡± Thaddius answered nasally.

    ¡°Let us be on our way then?¡± James proposed as he gestured toward the stairs.

    The gnome nodded without a word before he headed up the stairs. James looked back at Nora, who had been watching the interaction. He extended his arms to the stairs.

    ¡°Ladies first?¡±

    Nora huffed before she went up, leaving James alone on the ground floor. He soon followed the older woman up the tower¡¯s staircase.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    While stairs were certainly not his best friend, James could feel a bit of pride at the noticeable increase of endurance he had built up these past months. Just a month ago, climbing these steps had resulted in him taking multiple minute long breaks for him to catch his breath. Now, he only needed to take one breather.

    ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Nora said. She seemed unaffected by the long climb, but James could still see the gleam of sweat that appeared on her forehead. Regardless, she didn¡¯t let it get to her, not like James, who was currently focusing on controlling his breathing.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you train?¡± the councilwoman asked.

    ¡°I do,¡± James responded with an agitated breath. ¡°It¡¯s just been a while since I¡¯ve done cardio, y¡¯know?¡±

    ¡°No. I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Ah, whatever,¡± James muttered. ¡°I¡¯m good now.¡±

    He brushed himself off before focusing on the doors that led into the meeting room. James took a deep breath before he walked through them.

    There was a table in the center of the meeting room, chairs surrounding it. Half of them were occupied by men and women who all had a say in how the city was run. While James owned a majority of the city, it did not mean he was entirely in charge.

    Some of the men in this room were high-ranking guild members, others were in charge of sectors in the city, and a couple of them were simply representatives of other clans. All in all, these guys were a painful thorn in James¡¯ side.

    Yet they were a necessary thorn.

    ¡°It seems like Jarl Holter has finally decided to join us. Despite missing last month¡¯s meeting.¡± one of the men called out.

    ¡°Give Holter a break,¡± a younger woman called out. She sat across the table, the pin on her collar signifying that she was a representative from Vindis¡¯ Merchant Guild. James recognized her as one of Markov¡¯s contacts, mainly as the one responsible for fencing his alcohol to the taverns.

    ¡®Carla,¡¯ James absentmindedly reminded himself before he turned to the man who spoke. It was one of the district leaders, specifically the one that looked over the Gold District. He was tall and clean shaven, his dark wavy hair swept back to reveal his tired and baggy eyes. James recalled his name from the last time they had met.

    ¡°I was dealing with clan troubles, Niles,¡± James said, making sure he spoke clearly and confidently. If there was any sign of weakness, he was bound to get ripped apart in this godsforsaken meeting.

    ¡°Clan troubles, I see,¡± Niles muttered as he leaned back. ¡°Well, I suppose all that matters is that you¡¯re here now. With a guest nonetheless. Would you mind telling us?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d like to do that a little later if you don¡¯t mind,¡± James responded as he went over to an empty seat. He gestured for Nora to sit, his hands pulling the chair back.

    ¡°I suppose we can get to that later,¡± another district leader said. There were a couple of murmurs that followed that statement.

    ¡°Aside from Holter¡¯s guest,¡± the same woman from earlier spoke. ¡°It appears we have another new face here.¡± Everyone at the table craned their heads to the gnome from earlier. The one James had met downstairs.

    ¡°My name is Thaddius Arclong,¡± he introduced. ¡°Representative of both the Merchant¡¯s Guild in Haven and the Frue¡¯s court.¡±

    ¡°Frue Margaret?¡± Niles asked. ¡°Did she finally decide to care about Vindis?¡±

    ¡°She has sent me here to discern the status of the Vindis¡¯ Merchant¡¯s Guild,¡± Thaddius revealed. ¡°She does have a share of its profits, after all. Even after giving up most of her ownership of the city to Jarl Holter.¡±

    Everyone turned their gaze to James after the comment. The young clan leader did his absolute damndest not to squirm in his seat at that.

    ¡°I can assure you, Mr. Arclong, the Vindis Guild is doing fine in profits. If anything, our earnings have increased in the months following the Midsommar Incident,¡± Carla called out. Unlike James, she seemed to keep herself calm and put together.

    ¡°Is that right, Carla? Am I right to assume it has to do with the business you have with the White Raven Clan?¡± Thaddius asked. The gnome raised an incredulous eyebrow.

    ¡°Our dealings with Jarl Holter¡¯s clan aren¡¯t illegal,¡± Carla responded calmly. ¡°The Merchant¡¯s Guild can trade and buy with other clans.¡±

    ¡°You might be right with that. Still, there is the talk of unlicensed alcohol trade,¡± Thaddius pointed out. James could catch some side eye from some of the members at the table.

    ¡°Unlicensed alcohol?¡± Carla acted shocked at the accusation. ¡°Are you suggesting that I am allowing such activity in my guild?¡±

    ¡°No, I am not,¡± the gnome muttered. ¡°I am only warning you of the dangers of doing such business. I will have you know that unlicensed alcohol trading carries a fine of one hundred valdoras plus confiscation of said alcohol.¡±

    ¡°Is that a threat?¡± Carla asked.

    ¡°Alright!¡± James said aloud. He had heard more than enough. ¡°Thaddius, I think we all got the message. I think Carla here knows the rules of proper trading, right? Cool, let¡¯s take a small break?¡±

    Both guild reps were still staring at each other conflicted looks before James stood up, his hands extending to both.

    ¡°Seriously, no need for unnecessary drama¨C¡±

    ¡°Holter, I would like to call for a recess with you,¡± Thaddius interrupted. The gnome glanced at the clan leader with a tired look. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, of course.¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± James muttered, his raised arms slowly lowering to his sides. He stepped away from the table to head over to the exit before he suddenly remembered.

    ¡®That¡¯s right, Nora.¡¯

    ¡°One more thing before I go,¡± James said to the table. He gestured over to Nora, who was patiently sitting down next to his recently vacated seat. The councilwoman slowly stood up, her hands together as she raised her chin.

    ¡®She¡¯s nervous,¡¯ James realized. He could see how the older woman¡¯s eyes now shone with a sense of stage fright and nervousness. It was clear to him that this was the first time in ages that Nora had been in front of a council like this.

    ¡°This is Nora Haythwood,¡± James introduced. ¡°She will be my representative for Vindis and its council.¡±

    There were some murmurs coming from the table members, all of whom were staring at Nora with looks of judgment and curiosity.

    ¡®They¡¯re sizing her up.¡¯

    James would¡¯ve left the councilwoman then and there to fend for herself, as she had done so for him before. Yet something in him protested that idea.

    ¡®I feel bad for her?¡¯

    James couldn¡¯t really believe it himself. He had no idea he was even capable of feeling sympathy for someone like Nora. Someone who had nearly sent him out to die.

    ¡®She didn¡¯t really do it out of resentment or hatred. Nora was just acting on her fear,¡¯ Faust pointed out. ¡®Fear makes fools out of us all.¡¯

    ¡®Still, she did try to exile me,¡¯ James mentally noted. ¡®Then again, would I even be better for leaving her like this? I did bring her here to help us.¡¯

    It would be an act of cruelty to leave a small-town councilwoman to deal with city assholes. James himself had to deal with their shit for the past few months. He had no desire to leave Nora to the same fate.

    ¡°I¨C¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s get one thing straight before any of you say anything,¡± Nora interrupted James, her voice cutting through the silence. ¡°I am nothing like Jarl Holter. I won¡¯t allow disrespect out of niceties and politeness. I am here to protect and advance the White Raven clan¡¯s interests. If any of you even try to prevent me from doing my job, then there will be problems.¡±

    James stared at Nora, watching as the fear left her body and voice. She had a confident air about her, her head tilting as she sighed.

    ¡°Believe me. You don¡¯t want any problems with me,¡± she muttered. ¡°You¡¯ll have a better time swimming in the canals you all throw your shit in. Trust me on this.¡±

    James couldn¡¯t help but smile a little. There was a sense of pride that came with the sight of this woman treating Vindis¡¯ council no different than the one at Yorktown.

    ¡®Funny. I¡¯m actually rooting for her.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave you guys to it then,¡± James said as he made his way out of the room.

    <hr>

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about the fine or the confiscation,¡± Thaddius said as James closed the door behind him. ¡°I am simply here on Frue Margeret¡¯s behalf.¡±

    ¡°Four months of no contact, and now she wants to talk?¡± James asked. ¡°What does she want?¡±

    ¡°First of all, she¡¯s been wanting to speak to you,¡± the gnome said. ¡°You¡¯ve been deliberately ignoring her these past months.¡±

    ¡°Ignoring her?¡± James asked. ¡°I¡¯ve heard nothing from her! The only form of contact I ever had with Redyr was when she sent me the papers for her share of Vindis.¡±

    ¡°I suppose you thought she did that out of the kindness of her heart?¡± Thaddius pointed out. ¡°She has been waiting for a response from your clan for months since.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say,¡± James murmured. He wanted to facepalm himself. Of course, there was a catch to Redyr¡¯s ¡®gift¡¯ back when he had received those papers. He felt like an idiot for not figuring that part out.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fret. Frue Margaret has given you leniency on this slight,¡± Thaddius said. ¡°There are more important things to discuss.¡±

    ¡°Important enough that she sent a Merchant Guild member?¡± James asked.

    ¡°She didn¡¯t want to raise awareness about the situation. If she sent out someone like Elias, it would certainly bring about onlookers and eavesdroppers.¡± Thaddius explained.

    ¡°What is this about?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s about the Midsommar Incident,¡± the gnome revealed. ¡°She needs to know if you plan to retaliate.¡±

    James blinked at that. Didn¡¯t they already discuss this?

    ¡®Not really, now that I think about it. We only discussed options and saved the conversation for another day. That was three months ago.¡¯

    ¡°Retaliation isn¡¯t ideal,¡± James muttered. ¡°Not in the state we¡¯re in. Not when the clans are scattered.¡±

    ¡°She was hoping for a response like this,¡± Thaddius sighed in clear relief. ¡°Thankfully for us, the Lumen Kingdom is also looking to sweep this under the rug. With some time and meetings, we might be able to negotiate peace¨C¡±

    ¡°There will be no peace,¡± James interrupted. ¡°I only said war is not ideal. Never said anything about negotiating with the Lumen Kingdom.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re¨C¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re feigning ignorance. After what happened in Vindis, I doubt they¡¯ll learn their lesson and keep away,¡± said James. ¡°Tell Redyr that I want to call a meeting with her. In person.¡±

    ¡°W-Wait, we have¡ª¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing more for us to speak about,¡± James said as he turned to the doors. ¡°If your Frue wants me to consider peace, then she and I need to speak face-to-face about this entire situation.¡±

    Without another word, James entered the meeting room, leaving the gnome by himself in the hall.

 B.4 Chapter 12: Long Time, No See

    James rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped out the entrance to the tall spire, Nora on his tail as they walked through the courtyard. He looked up at the night, watching as the sister moons shone their light through broken clouds.

    ¡®How long were we in there?¡¯ James thought to himself. The meeting with the other district leaders had gone on longer than he had hoped for. They had all rambled on about budgeting, city planning, and, of course, debating about taxes. It was mind-numbing and gave James a migraine at the end of it all.

    Thankfully, he had Nora on his side. As expected from a representative, she did most of the speaking for him. He was impressed with how well she navigated the bickering and arguing.

    ¡°Well, I suppose you have somewhere for us to stay overnight?¡± Nora asked as she followed James out of the courtyard.

    ¡°Yes, an all-expense-paid night at a nearby establishment,¡± James answered with a smile. ¡°A courtesy from Markov himself.¡±

    Nora raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose it¡¯s some random shitty tavern?¡±

    ¡°Of course not,¡± James responded as he tucked his hands into his cloak, protecting his fingers from the freezing cold of the night. ¡°It¡¯s a protected spot that¡¯s owned by the Thieves Guild. We¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good to know,¡± Nora huffed as she tucked her hands into her warm scarf. She gazed up at the sparse moonlight, her dark eyes almost twinkling in their glow. ¡°Didn¡¯t know that nighttime would look so peaceful. Even here, in this city.¡±

    ¡°Well, I guess there is some sort of magic in place for that,¡± James answered absentmindedly as he shrugged. There was silence between the two as they walked, their footsteps being the only sound in the night. James himself was surprised by the lack of noise coming from Vindis. Usually, he¡¯d be bombarded with the constant sounds of fighting, animal yowling, and the occasional scream.

    Yet now, there was some semblance of peace. Perhaps it was because they were walking through the Gold District. James wouldn¡¯t know. If anything, he decided not to question a good thing.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    James blinked at the sudden words. He stopped his walk, his eyes looking for the source. He was surprised to find that it had come from Nora. The older councilwoman was currently looking at James with a look he had never seen from her.

    She had a soft smile on her face, and her expression had changed from her usual cold glare to a warm and welcoming gaze. James himself was beginning to suspect that Nora had been replaced by a doppelganger of sorts.

    ¡°Are you¨C?¡±

    ¡°I said thank you, James,¡± Nora clarified with a chuckle. ¡°And, of course, I¡¯m sorry for everything. Back when we first met, I had thought you to be nothing more than trouble for Yorktown. Someone who would doom our little island to ashes. Instead, for the past year, you¡¯ve done nothing but better our town. Grew its economy and inspired its people. You were a blessing.¡±

    ¡°Nora, I¡­¡±

    ¡°Of course, I had my doubts about you,¡± Nora admitted. ¡°Even after you saved us from those Lumen Knights, I still was adamant that you were to do nothing more but doom us. Yet, as time went on, I began to see what others saw in you. You were a leader. A beacon of hope. Even when faced with overwhelming odds, you still charged in.¡± She paused for a moment, her eyes moving to the small pin on her scarf. The one that was shaped like a raven.

    ¡°Even after everything I¡¯ve done to you. The things I said about you. You still trusted me enough to be your representative,¡± Nora murmured. ¡°You could have easily called upon someone else, but you still decided on me. To give me a purpose. For that, I thank you, James Holter.¡±

    James stared at Nora for a moment, unsure of what to say. After a couple of seconds, he laughed. The councilwoman tilted her head in confusion at the reaction before James patted her shoulder.

    ¡°Sorry, I just never thought there was this sort of side to you,¡± he admitted before he flashed Nora a smile. ¡°I¡¯m happy that you aren¡¯t as cold hearted as I initially thought.¡±

    Nora instantly reddened at that, her gaze moving away as she scowled. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± James called out with a chuckle as the councilwoman did her best to walk off. ¡°Are you blushing?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s cold!¡± Nora called back.

    James couldn¡¯t help but smile at her reaction.

    ¡®It¡¯s quite interesting, isn¡¯t it?¡¯ Faust asked.

    ¡®I think it¡¯s sweet of her to acknowledge me,¡¯ James admitted. ¡®It tells me more about her, if anything.¡¯

    ¡®That she¡¯s not a control freak at heart?¡¯

    ¡®That, and that she could change,¡¯ James thought. ¡®I¡¯m just glad that I won¡¯t have to fight with her as often as I initially thought.¡¯

    With that in mind, James whistled softly as he headed off with Nora to check in for the night.

    <hr>

    ¡°I take it all back,¡± Nora muttered.

    James had to use all his strength not to directly laugh at the councilwoman¡¯s reaction to where they would be staying for the night. Before the two was the tavern/inn known simply as the Drunken Draugr. It was a rowdy night, it seemed, as usual. James could overhear loud swears and bloody brawls going on inside. It would be where he and Nora would stay for the night.

    ¡®Well, there was the base I took over. Still no news on that.¡¯

    Not long after the Midsommar Incident, James and his clan had claimed the half-destroyed Merchant¡¯s Guild as their new keep. The building had acted as a sort of base during the battle, sheltering nearby thieves and raven guards before it had nearly burnt to ash. No one had opposed his claim of it.

    James had been excited at the prospect of a base in the city, but that excitement quickly turned to stress when he realized how long it would take to make it even livable. Even after four months of funding repairs, the base was still a work in progress, which meant that James had to make do with what he had.

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    ¡°Believe it or not, this is the safest spot in the city,¡± James said. ¡°The Thieves Guild sent out a couple of their own to watch over us while we¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°Safe?¡± Nora looked at James like she had just seen him grow another head. ¡°This is safe to you?¡±

    Before James could give Nora an answer, someone was thrown out of the tavern¡¯s doors, their smaller frame tumbling for a few meters before stopping. It was a drunk gnome, his hand still holding onto a tankard from the bar.

    ¡°Just trust me on this,¡± James muttered as he assisted the gnome back on his feet. The drunkard mumbled thanks to the young Jarl before waddling his way back inside.

    ¡°The things I trust you on,¡± Nora sighed. ¡°Fine. It can¡¯t be that bad, can it?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit,¡± James said with a grin. ¡°Now, let¡¯s¡ª¡±

    He stopped mid-talk, his senses turning sharp. James blinked confusedly, his head turning to look around. He ignored Nora¡¯s muffled questioning, his focus on what had set off his Alert skill.

    Alert was a magical skill that James had developed not long ago. He had no idea he even had it until Nathan and Falrick explained what magical skills were. The Wizards had told him that sometimes, under certain circumstances, people could develop magical skills and talents.

    James had developed Alert due to the nonstop fighting he did during the Battle for VIndis. According to Falrick, his body had snapped under the conditions of the battle, forcing the rapid development of the magical skill. Overwhelming odds and the dark rainy streets were more than enough reason for him to gain Alert overnight.

    However, the problem with this particular magical skill was that it had trouble differentiating between friend and foe. James had it go off randomly for no reason, like when he was going around Yorktown or when he was simply doing nothing more than eating breakfast at Dahlia¡¯s hut.

    Vindis had a tendency to be dangerous, especially at night. James always expected his Alert skill to go off whenever he walked the city streets. Even if Markov told him he was protected, James never let his guard down¡ªuntil now.

    He looked around the streets, his eyes scanning the wandering drunks and pedestrians.

    ¡®Maybe one of Markov¡¯s scouts triggered it,¡¯ James concluded. Just as he was about to brush off the experience, he spotted him.

    A man wearing a green and brown tunic, his shoulder draped by a woolen cape. He was a tad shorter than James, with black hair resting on broad shoulders. Behind him was another man, this one wearing something similar. He was taller, with short blond hair and a matching goatee. They were both standing near the plaza that connected the Drunken Draugr and the rest of the marketplace.

    It had been nearly a year since James had seen these men. Back then, he had been there to see them off at Vindis after both men had recovered from the injuries they had earned from fighting Lumen Knight Gryff.

    ¡°Brant? Finn?¡± James called out.

    Brant, the shorter of the two, gave a quick wave and smile as he approached. ¡°James! Good to see you again!¡±

    James stared at the two men, stunned. Before he knew it, he had stepped forward to shake hands with Brant. He couldn¡¯t help but grin at the interaction. ¡°Brant! It¡¯s been some time. How have you been doing?¡±

    ¡°Doing great,¡± Brant answered with a chuckle. ¡°Finn and I have been traveling around, taking odd jobs here and there.¡±

    ¡°You mean you guys weren¡¯t in Vindis when¡­ Midsommar happened?¡± James asked carefully.

    ¡°We were at Bernis when it happened,¡± Brant admitted, his features darkening. ¡°News of it only came in the morning after. If I had known earlier¡­¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± James said. He patted the man on the shoulder. ¡°There was nothing you could have done. Don¡¯t beat yourself up over it.¡±

    Brant nodded. ¡°I know. I just wished I was with your clan when it all went down. Would¡¯ve gladly fought side by side with you.¡±

    ¡®Fight side by side¡­¡¯

    James faltered at that. He remembered the countless bodies he had seen by Vindis¡¯ city center¡ªthe bodies of those who fought, of those who were allies, of those who were friends.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Finn asked, his inquiry catching James off guard.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± James responded coolly. ¡°What have you guys been up to?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve actually been busy,¡± Brant said with a grin. ¡°We both caught word that you wanted to unite the southern clans, to unite together against those Lumen bastards.¡±

    ¡®I don¡¯t recall mentioning the Lumen Kingdom¡­¡¯ James thought to himself. He brushed it off.

    ¡°We thought we could help, so we decided to do so by making contact with our old clan,¡± Brant continued.

    ¡°Old clan? Wait¡­¡± James recalled the clan they were talking about. He remembered them as the same people who had assisted Gryff in their battle against Yorktown. Jarl Ivan¡¯s clan. The Hawk.

    ¡°Before you say anything,¡± Finn spoke up. ¡°Jarl Ivan wants to offer his apologies and condolences regarding the battle that transpired last year.¡±

    ¡°Apologies?¡± James scoffed. ¡°He teamed up with that maniac Gryff to wipe Yorktown off the map! People died!¡±

    ¡°He was coerced into doing so,¡± Finn revealed. ¡°Jarl Ivan¡¯s clan was threatened by the knights. Had he not agreed with them, he and his people would have suffered. He wants to make amends. To offer peace with you.¡±

    ¡°Why after so long?¡± James asked. ¡°Why now?¡±

    ¡°Because he¡¯s been dealing with problems of his own,¡± Brant said. ¡°From what I¡¯ve heard, marauders are taking over his islands in the south. Towns and islands, raided and captured. It¡¯s only gotten worse since the Midsommar Incident.¡±

    ¡°Deimos?¡± James hadn¡¯t heard about this. Not from the other clans he was allied with, at least. From what he had managed to gather, the marauders were currently maintaining their territory in the north and raiding only passing ships.

    ¡®Then again, there was barely any word of the raided islands before the Vindis raid.¡¯

    ¡°He wants to meet with you at a middle ground,¡± Finn added. ¡°Jarl Ivan wants to discuss the possibilities of allying himself with your clan.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± James muttered. He felt uneasy at the idea of meeting Jarl Ivan. He recalled what Olafson¡¯s emissary, Daven, had said to him.

    ¡°I hope that you do not end up the same as the Hawk Clan. If you would end up the same as he or, Gods forbid, worse, we will no longer be on neutral ground. You will be an enemy to us all, same as him. Is this clear?¡±

    There was a clear stigma against Ivan as a whole, to the point where even the Olafson clan discerned him as nothing more than an enemy. Even negotiating with him would prompt the other clans to reconsider their relations with James. Even with the binding pact he made them take, there was nothing stopping them from stopping their support and trade lines with his settlements. That was one of the few things they still had control over.

    ¡®Besides, I want to actually build an alliance. Not some dictatorship or warlord rule. Good faith is still required to make sure these clans trust me.¡¯

    James frowned as he looked at the two men in front of him. The same men who had risked their lives to help him. Hell, Brant was the only reason James was still alive. He had even pledged his undying allegiance to the clan before anyone else. If there was anyone he could trust, it was Brant. James owed him everything.

    ¡°Are you sure he wants to negotiate peace?¡± James asked Brant. The shorter man gave a nod, his arms crossing as he looked James in the eye.

    ¡°I put my life on it.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± James sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll consider a meeting. Under my terms, of course. Let Ivan know I¡¯ll give him an answer soon. Don¡¯t hold your breaths.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t regret it,¡± Finn said with a smile as he shook James¡¯ hand. Brant followed up right after, his grin wide with excitement.

    ¡°With the south united, we¡¯ll show those Lumen bastards! Swear on it!¡±

 B.4 Chapter 13: Veterans Solace

    Helen couldn¡¯t help but be relieved at the sensation of solid ground, her steel-toe boots clacking against the stone harbor. She breathed in the night air, her arms above her head as she stretched. It felt good to be back home.

    ¡°Heh, home,¡± Helen chuckled. She still couldn¡¯t believe it. Even after months of living on this island, she still couldn¡¯t believe that she had a home all to herself. Her own little hut, built a while back for her and her only. It was surreal to think about.

    ¡°I can¡¯t wait to get to bed,¡± Seamus yawned as he walked onto the harbor. He wobbled a little as he stepped on the ground, a consequence of the day-long voyage from Aldren.

    ¡°Best we both do,¡± Helen muttered. ¡°We will have to resume training tomorrow.¡±

    Seamus grimaced at that. ¡°Can¡¯t it wait?¡±

    ¡°Nah,¡± Helen responded with a sly smile before she headed into Yorktown. ¡°Get some sleep, Seamus. Training will start at sunrise. I¡¯ll see you then.¡±

    As Helen walked through the town¡¯s streets, she noted how little foot traffic was present. Usually, she would have to fight against the movements of crowds and merchants, but now, there was barely anyone.

    ¡®Must be late,¡¯ Helen thought to herself. She stopped her walk and looked up at the night sky.

    Luna and Callisto were out tonight, the blanket of clouds breaking up to allow their light to shine down on the town. Helen felt a little uneasy. The peaceful night was unnerving to her. It had been ever since she became a soldier during the Outsider Wars, back when she was posted on night watches to look out for barbarian raiders. Even after the war, quiet nights still radiated danger for her.

    The marauders were never short of enemies during her time serving Deimos. Bandits, rival clans, and even creeping sea creatures. It had all instilled a primal instinct to be untrustworthy of the night. Quiet had rarely ever meant peace for Helen.

    Yet tonight, despite her instincts, Helen knew she was safe. She had seen the checkpoints James had set up around the island. She herself had trained the guardsmen here to be vigilant and careful. There were even multiple alarm buoys set up by Wizard Falrick himself. The chances of a raid were close to nil.

    Helen was still acclimating to the feeling of safety. She just needed some time to get used to it.

    ¡°Helen!¡± a voice called out to her.

    Helen turned her head to see a familiar face running up to her. It was a guardswoman, her blue tabard flowing in the wind, and the raven patch seeming to fly in the invisible breeze.

    ¡°Kate?¡± Helen said. She could tell by the lightish brown hair of the guardswoman that it was none other than Rowan, an up-and-coming prodigy within the guardsmen.

    ¡°Has Seamus arrived yet?¡± Kate asked as she approached. She looked flustered, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving from exertion.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Helen answered with a chuckle. ¡°He¡¯s heading off to his hut right now, I suppose. You can catch him there.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Kate answered in a relieved breath before she turned. Just as she was about to head out, Helen called after her.

    ¡°Try not to cramp yourself up tonight; you have training tomorrow,¡± Helen said, a slight smile breaking at the edge of her lips as she walked. While she couldn¡¯t see Kate¡¯s reaction, the veteran was sure that she was even more red in the face.

    ¡®Ah, young love,¡¯ Helen thought with a chuckle as she walked through the nearly empty streets. She would soon pass by a familiar building, one that she herself had stayed at not long ago. Helen pressed against the door, opening it to reveal a long room with two rows of beds.

    Tonight, the infirmary was manned by two healers, one at the front by the door. He gave Helen a tired nod, his eyes weighed with black bags. He yawned as he stretched, his gaze soon sighting the other healer. She was currently tending to one rowdy patient in a bed, the sounds of hushed cursing audible from where Helen stood.

    Helen grinned as she strode over to the bed, watching the healer struggle to keep Lilith on the bed. The young berserker was still in bandages, her red hair flailing wildly as she tried to shake the healer off her. It seemed like Lilith was refusing to take medicine again.

    Lilith was a mute woman who had once hailed from the island of Aldren before it had burnt down. She was related to Seamus by blood, and their mothers shared siblinghood. Helen would¡¯ve never guessed since Lilith¡¯s head of hair was that of a dark, rich red while Seamus¡¯ was pitch black.

    ¡°Red!¡± Helen called to the woman, who immediately froze at the sound of her voice. Lilith¡¯s expression changed from a feral anger to an unbound glee when her eyes met with the veteran. The short pause was enough for the healer to quickly pour the concoction into Lilith¡¯s agape mouth. The berserker sputtered at that, her eyes wide with surprise as she accidentally gulped.

    ¡°Finally,¡± the healer muttered in exhaustion as she stumbled off to her colleague, her robes in tatters and her forearms sporting a couple scratches. Helen reminded herself then to reimburse the healers later for their work.

    ¡°How are you doing?¡± Helen asked as she approached Lilith, who lay back in her bed. Despite the veteran being gone for two days, the young berserker¡¯s hair was already a clumped and frazzled mess. Helen watched as the young woman raised her restricted hands to her chest, her fingers forming symbols and signs. Thanks to Seamus, Helen was able to read what Lilith had communicated.

    I¡¯m fine. Bed is uncomfortable. When can I leave?

    ¡°Well, if you stop putting up so much fuss, then perhaps you¡¯ll be able to leave soon,¡± Helen reprimanded. She sighed and shook her head. ¡°Probably a couple more weeks. Healing takes time.¡±

    Of course, there was the option of using a healing potion. Yet those were expensive and varied in quality. Even then, the affordable ones were to be used in the midst of battle to staunch and prevent wounds from getting worse. That was the problem with most health potions. The minor ones, while useful, could do little against long-term damage like fractured bones.

    Also, there was the risk of potion sickness. Helen would rather not lose the young woman to a bad concoction made by some shady Wizard in Vindis. No offense to Nathan, of course.

    How was liberating my home? Aldren.

    Helen grinned broadly. ¡°We kicked their asses. Those orcs never stood a chance.¡±

    Lilith smiled brightly at that, her eyes glinting with excitement. She quickly moved to sign.

    I cannot wait to be able to move and fight again. I am filled with excitement at the prospect of feeling the wind against my hair and the weight of an ax in my hand.

    ¡°Is that right?¡± Helen asked amusingly. She picked at a tangled strand of hair, one of many that added to Lilith¡¯s frazzled look. The young woman blushed, her hands straining as she tried to fix her hair.

    ¡°Don¡¯t fret,¡± Helen chuckled as she gently stopped her. ¡°I¡¯ll braid it again tomorrow when I have time.¡±

    Lilith stopped at that, her smile returning. She gave an excited nod as she signed.

    I want to try a new style.

    ¡°Really?¡± Helen decided to entertain the berserker. ¡°What did you have in mind?¡±

    The one Dahlia had. Before she had cut her hair short. I really liked it.

    Helen closed her eyes and racked her memory for a second. She recalled Dahlia¡¯s hair before her fight with the Lumen Knight. At one point, she had it in multiple buns, but it wasn¡¯t what she had the day after Aldren. Helen recalled it as two braids that wrapped into a small bun at the back of her head.

    ¡°I can do that,¡± the veteran confirmed with a nod. She opened her eyes and was surprised when Lilth reached over to hug her despite bandages and casts holding certain areas of her arms and legs. Helen didn¡¯t resist. She just let it happen, knowing full well of the blush that was appearing on her face. When Lilith laid back in her bed, Helen gave a cough.

    ¡°Alright then, it¡¯s about time I headed off,¡± she said as she stood. ¡°It¡¯s important business.¡±

    Lilith gave a nod and signed.

    Time for a drink?

    Helen couldn¡¯t help but bark a laugh at that. She decided then to give the berserker a sign of her own, that being her middle finger.

    Lilith returned the rude gesture in kind, her grin wide.

    <hr>

    There was only one tavern in Yorktown, which had grown to be a problem during busy days. Helen recalled James talking about opening a new haunt around the harbor and marketplace to direct more traffic to it instead of the one he and his friends frequented.

    Helen herself had rarely gone in for the past few months due to the immense crowds of people that would visit to grab a drink or place to stay, despite the hostels near the marketplace. She had to count herself lucky to snag a drink during the day.

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    For now, however, in the midst of night, Helen found the tavern spacious enough for her to sit down and enjoy a cold brew alone.

    Helen breathed a sigh of relief as she sat down at the bar, her hands rubbing together for warmth.

    ¡°Gladis, I¡¯d like the usual, please,¡± Helen called out to the barwoman, who perked up from behind the bar. She sighed tiredly as she filled a tankard with some mead before passing it to the veteran.

    ¡°Good to see you again, Helen,¡± Gladis said with a weak smile. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve last seen you here.¡±

    ¡°Well, you know how it is,¡± Helen muttered as she sipped her drink. ¡°I¡¯ve been itching for a cold drink for the past week. Now that Aldren has been liberated, I guess I can relax for now.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re doing well,¡± Gladis sighed. Her eyes glanced off to the side, a pang of sadness glinting within them. ¡°I wish I could say the same for him.¡±

    Helen stopped mid-sip and turned to the bar woman¡¯s glance. At the corner of the bar was a lone man, his hand clenching onto a tankard. He was slumped in place, his clothes a mess, and his hair all messy. Helen noted the pointed ears and immediately recognized the drunk.

    ¡°Archibald?¡± Helen muttered aloud. Archibald had once been a mercenary hired by James to help on his quest during last Frost. Back then, the elf had been a snobby, posh piece of work. While skilled, Archibald was usually one to back out of dangerous situations. That was, until the Battle for Vindis.

    The elf had rushed into the fray with Helen to assist with taking back the city from the marauders and Lumen soldiers. Archibald had said he was only doing it for the pay, but Helen knew that the elf didn¡¯t give a rat¡¯s ass about gold back then. He was simply doing it to save the city and its people.

    To Helen, it was an act of bravery.

    ¡°He¡¯s still¡­¡± Helen started.

    ¡°Still wasting his time here,¡± Gladis answered, ¡°Been like this for months now. James already tried talking with him. No such luck.¡±

    ¡°Have you tried cutting him off?¡± Helen asked.

    ¡°He¡¯s still on his first drink for today,¡± Gladis revealed. ¡°Nothing to cut off if he gets sloshed after half a pint.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s he drinking?¡± Helen raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Last of Bjorn¡¯s brew,¡± Gladis answered.

    ¡°There¡¯s still some left?¡± Helen swore that the late dwarf had only made enough barrels to sell off to Markov during Midsommar. That was the entire reason why James was doing his best to recreate it now.

    ¡°It¡¯s the last barrel he made shortly before Midsommar,¡± Gladis said. ¡°It¡¯s recently become ready to drink, so Archibald here has been requesting a tankard of it daily for the past month.¡±

    Helen frowned at the sight of the drunk elf, who was currently stewing in his own misery. She had seen it before. Hel, she had once been a victim of it. This wasn¡¯t her first brush with grief. Helen recalled her time in the Outsider Wars, back when she had watched allies and comrades die to barbarians.

    She recalled the men and women who died by her side during the Battle for Vindis. Helen had to leave their bodies behind as she pushed forth with Dahlia to get the alarm totem to the center.

    Helen remembered the day she learned about Harald¡¯s and Bjorn¡¯s fates. It was barely the morning after the battle, and she had recovered from her injuries. She had been looking forward to drinking a couple of tankards with Harald to celebrate their victory.

    The news of his death had stunned her like nothing else. She wouldn¡¯t believe it at first. She had even called James out on it, accusing him of identifying the wrong body. She had denied it. That was until she had a look at his body. His and Bjorn¡¯s. It had felt like a dream, yet the veteran could not deny the reality of what had happened.

    Her friends were dead.

    It made her feel weak, as if it were her fault, that if she had just stayed with them, things would have been different.

    Helen had never felt such an emotion in so long.

    Archibald was going through something similar to what she had in the past. Helen recognized it whenever someone was trying to drink themselves into forgetting. She had done so in the past, back when she was just a wandering merc in Vindis City.

    ¡°I¡¯ll talk with him,¡± Helen muttered as she stood from her chair. She approached the young elf, who was doing his best to down the next few sips of his drink. He grimaced at the taste before letting out a burp.

    ¡°Drowning your sorrows?¡± Helen called out.

    Archibald swiveled his head to the veteran, his tired eyes glinting with scrutiny. ¡°I¡¯d like to be alone, please.¡±

    ¡°Well, unfortunately for you, I need a drinking buddy,¡± Helen said as she sipped her mead.

    ¡°Tch,¡± Archibald sucked in his teeth before he broke his focus off her. ¡°Try all you want. I¡¯m not leaving.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not here to tell you that,¡± Helen said. ¡°I¡¯m only here to talk with you.¡±

    ¡°Talk, huh?¡± Archibald scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m betting you¡¯re about to go on about how things get better? How the dead want me to move on? Perhaps you want to tell me that I¡¯m alive for a reason?¡±

    Helen felt her brow furrow as the elf rambled on, his hands waving into the air as his voice rose.

    ¡°The truth is, there¡¯s no point in me going on with my life,¡± Archibald said. ¡°Not when the world is as shit as it is.¡±

    ¡°Things can change,¡± Helen responded with a shrug.

    ¡°Hah!¡± Archibald let out a short dry laugh. ¡°Don¡¯t give me that. Things are never going to change. Not when it¡¯s all just¡­. Violence and death. No one can change that. Not James. Not the Gods. So what¡¯s the point in even going on? When there¡¯s nothing we could do to change it?¡±

    ¡°The point,¡± Helen started with a mutter. ¡°Is to try.¡±

    Archibald turned to her with a raised eyebrow. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°We have to try,¡± Helen said a little louder. ¡°To make things better. If we don¡¯t, then what¡¯s the point?¡±

    ¡°Did you not hear me¨C¡±

    ¡°I heard you just fine,¡± Helen interrupted. ¡°The world is a shit place, sure. Violence and death all around. Changing it is something that seems impossible, but you should take a minute to pay attention.¡±

    ¡°What are you on about?¡±

    ¡°Think for a moment,¡± Helen swirled her finger in the air, almost like she was gesturing to their surroundings. ¡°If you told anyone here a year back that this island would become a central part of the Arenian-Valenfrost trade, they¡¯d call you mad.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ debatable,¡± Archibald muttered.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s do another example,¡± Helen continued. ¡°Think of the feats we¡¯ve completed in the past year. The islands we¡¯ve conquered. The people we¡¯ve saved¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not everyone was saved,¡± Archibald interrupted. He clenched his tankard tightly before he took a drink from it, the golden liquid dribbling down his chin. Once done, he slammed it back onto the bar. ¡°I know what you¡¯re trying to say. What you want to tell me. But¡­¡±

    Helen could see how Archibald avoided eye contact with her, his messy black hair obscuring his eyeline. Yet she could still see the drops of tears hitting the bar.

    ¡°What¡¯s the point of trying if I was too weak to save Bjorn?¡± Archibald said between choked breaths. ¡°I wasn¡¯t strong enough to stay with him, and I wasn¡¯t fast enough to get back to him.¡±

    Helen stared at the sniffling elf, who tried his best not to outright sob.

    ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s just¡­¡± Archibald trailed off for a moment, his face turning away despite his hair already covering most of it. ¡°I¡¯m not exactly used to it all. To the death. To the fighting. Vindis was the first battle I¡¯ve been a part of.¡±

    ¡°You never participated in the Outsider Wars?¡± Helen asked. While he did look young, around Seamus¡¯ age, Archibald was an elf. His pointed ears confirmed that. What kind of elf he was was an entirely different story.

    All elves were descendants of the silver-haired elves of myth and legend, their bloodline mixed with the common human. Their lifespans could reach near the two hundred mark depending on how ¡°pure¡± their bloodline was. However, those were rare cases. Most elves tended to look young for only half a century before age crept in. They¡¯d die of old age not long after a hundred years. That wasn¡¯t so bad since the average lifespan of a human was roughly eighty. At least, that is what Helen had heard.

    ¡°I was¡­ sheltered most of my life,¡± Archibald admitted. ¡°I was only able to be who I am after finally breaking out of the monotony that was my life. My fortieth birthday was when I decided to leave, to go out and make my own adventure.¡±

    Helen nearly choked on her drink.

    ¡®Forty? Dear Caelus, he¡¯s older than I.¡¯

    ¡°How long has it been?¡± Helen asked slowly.

    ¡°Not long,¡± Archibald said. ¡°Three years, give or take. It¡¯s¡­ difficult for me to keep track of time. With my extended lifespan and all.¡±

    ¡°How young is forty for you? For your family, that is,¡± Helen prompted curiously.

    ¡°Apparently, barely an adult,¡± Archibald muttered. ¡°My bloodline is somewhat pure, as you would call it. Most humans spend their twenties living their lives and pursuing their destinies. I spent my twenties learning to read. To swing a sword.¡±

    ¡®So, in elf terms, he¡¯s around Seamus¡¯ age.¡¯

    ¡°But there¡¯s a problem with that,¡± Archibald muttered. He took a swig of his drink before slamming it back down. ¡°I¡­perceive things normally.¡±

    ¡°Normally?¡±

    ¡°Like humans. Like you,¡± Archibald said. ¡°I was born to a human mother and an elf father. My father was the closest to a Silverhair. His own parents were direct descendants of the ancients. My mother¡­ She was purely human. I don¡¯t know if I inherited it or if it rubbed off on me. All I know is that I had to deal with my mother¡¯s fleeting mortality as I grew up. Had to watch her wither away in age.¡±

    Helen only listened. She didn¡¯t know what else to say or do. She could only listen to Archibald¡¯s drunken explanations.

    ¡°She died in my late thirties. Something changed after that. Time seemed to slow down. Like it wasn¡¯t moving as fast as before,¡± Archibald muttered. ¡°I ran off from my family later on, perhaps to try and escape from all the responsibilities. Or maybe I was just running away from the ever-coming passage of time. Not all of the people back home were as ¡®pure¡¯ blooded as I was.¡±

    ¡°So you became a mercenary?¡± Helen asked.

    ¡°Not at first,¡± Archibald admitted. ¡°Tried adventuring. Didn¡¯t work out well. Tried to do guard work. Didn¡¯t like it. Mercenary was an alright trade, and it paid well, I suppose. I had a terrible sense of money. Then again, I had a terrible sense of everything. I did let you rope me into one of the worst jobs I ever took part in.¡±

    Helen snorted. ¡°Ah, but you never left, eh?¡±

    Archibald scoffed, almost laughing in a way. ¡°Yes, I never did leave.¡± His expression shifted then, going from nostalgic remembrance to instant sorrow.

    ¡°How about we reign it in for the night?¡± Helen asked. ¡°Get some rest. Sounds right with you?¡±

    ¡°Rest¡­¡± Archibald muttered. ¡°Yes. I would like that very much.¡±

    Helen gave him a small pat on the back before she stood from her place at the bar. Without another word, the veteran guided the stumbling elf to his room upstairs. She decided then that she¡¯d go easy on him the next time he showed up for training.

    Gods knew they all needed a break every once in a while.

 B.4 Chapter 14: Duty

    Eilif stood in oblivion, ankle-deep water extending beyond the dark horizon. He looked around this plane, his sights settling on a distant figure of a man. He sat upon what looked to be a throne of mist, his head resting on an inquisitive fist. The figure stared at Eilif with eyes of crystalline purple, his gaze piercing through the immortal man.

    ¡°You¡¯re early,¡± Master said.

    ¡°I wanted to get started on preparations,¡± Eilif answered, his voice coming out smooth and unbothered. Not filtered into a rough mess by that troublesome mask he always wore. No, in this plane, Eilif was truly himself.

    ¡°Preparations?¡± the Master inquired.

    ¡°It is not easy to get around Valenfrost without making a few alliances,¡± Eilif said. ¡°The ocean is vast, and the islands, uncountable. I found it best that I¡¯d make a deal with a clan or two.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t promise them too much, did you?¡± Master asked as he looked down at his free hand, which clenched and unclenched.

    ¡°No,¡± Eilif said. ¡°If anything, their wants align with our interests.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Quite a few harbor much hatred toward Holter¡¯s clan,¡± the immortal man explained. ¡°It wasn¡¯t hard finding a decently sized group willing to wipe him and his people out.¡±

    ¡°Interesting,¡± Master muttered. He leaned back in his chair of mist, his hand moving to rub his chin. ¡°Try not to let them get away with too much, Eilif. There is still the matter of Halvorson.¡±

    Eilif nodded. ¡°Of course. I would never forget.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Master said. ¡°Do try not to kill him outright. We still need his memories to figure out the location of Yorn¡¯s last vault.¡±

    ¡°What of Holter, sire?¡± Eilif asked.

    Master shrugged. ¡°He is of no importance. From what Onnes tells me, he is just another Outlander chosen by Iendis and Thien. Nothing to do with us.¡±

    Eilif nodded. ¡°Of course, sire.¡±

    ¡°How has your healing been?¡± Master suddenly asked, curious eyes focusing on Eilif¡¯s form in this realm. The immortal bounty hunter followed the gaze, his own focus moving to himself. His body was cracked and broken, visible cracks seeping a glowing light. His soul manifested.

    It was a strange thing for Eilif to take a good look at his own soul. He could sense the parts that were broken beyond repair, the sections that were never to be healed again. Terrifyingly enough, Eilif could still sense the tugs of his old self, the screams and pleas for the release of death.

    That was enough to make him grimace.

    ¡°Eilif?¡± Master prodded. He did not ask again.

    ¡°Sire, it has been¡­ slow,¡± Eilif admitted. ¡°I find it difficult to converge my ley lines and focus on healing. Even my face has not been fully repaired after these years.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± the being muttered. He leaned back in his throne, eyes almost piercing Eilif like icy daggers. The immortal man resisted the urge to shiver at that sight. Without a word, his Master raised a hand, the glow from his gaze flashing brightly for a moment. Shamefully, Eilif flinched at the motion, his body stiffening.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± his Master laughed. ¡°I¡¯m not going to flay your soul. It¡¯s broken enough already. No, my friend, I am gifting you something.¡±

    Eilif blinked and felt something hot flow and course through him. He first thought it to be some sort of Convergence but dismissed the thought. This was clearly something else. Similar but different altogether.

    ¡°This¡­ This is one of Eli¡¯s Blessings,¡± Eilif realized with shock. ¡°Potency.¡±

    ¡°Enough time since his death has passed,¡± Master explained. ¡°His first Blessing returned to me recently. The other one, Mist, still needs some more time to come back. The eye holding that Blessing has not yet been destroyed.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Eilif muttered as he patted his chest. The warmth encompassed him like a hot drink, flowing into his veins and muscles. ¡°I shall use it with the utmost care.¡±

    ¡°Use it sparingly,¡± his Master ordered. ¡°You do not possess an eye, so the Blessing is limited. Use it only when the situation deems it necessary. Once you burn through it all, you will be on your own. Now, get on with your quest. There is much for you to accomplish.¡±

    With a wave of his hand, Eilif was dispelled from the mindscape, and the world around him brightened to an extraordinary extent. The next thing he knew, he was back in the world of the living.

    <hr>

    Eilif awoke in a ship¡¯s cargo hold, the light of the morning shining through the small windows in the hull. Across from him sat Kira, the woman¡¯s sultry dress now replaced by black trousers and a gray shirt, all of it covered by a black cape. She, of course, hated this outfit.

    ¡°Any updates?¡± she grumbled, her eyes watching the morning light seep in. Through the low lighting, Eilif could clearly see how her irises were glowing.

    ¡°Keep your eyes hidden if you¡¯re not going to keep up your casting,¡± Eilif commented. ¡°Rumors of beholders are already rampant through the south. Best we don¡¯t cause a panic because you were too lazy to recast your illusion spells.¡±

    Kira gave him a look of disgust before displaying her middle finger to the immortal man. ¡°First of all, we¡¯re alone. Second, if anyone from the crew of this accursed ship even notices, we can always kill them and burn the vessel.¡±

    ¡°Not the point,¡± Eilif sighed. ¡°We must stay conspicuous. Holter knows about me, and there is no doubt he has his allies looking out for someone with my visage.¡±

    Kira shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re immortal, right? The mask shouldn¡¯t be too hard to remove, and it won¡¯t kill you.¡±

    Eilif was silent at that. He ran a gloved hand across the mask and brass goggles, his fingers feeling the engravings of the smile that had been carved into it long ago. That hand soon moved to his chest, where he could swear he could feel the warmth from his vision earlier. He wondered about his meeting with the Master and the gift that had been handed to him.

    Eli¡¯s Blessing of Potency. Not as flashy or strong as the Blessing of Mist, but inherently more useful. With it, he could drastically improve his healing and spells, practically making him an unbeatable force that could shrug off even a beheading. Yet it had a catch. Eilif closed his eyes and focused on the warmth, the Blessing. Yes, while there, it was clearly finite. He had to limit its use, perhaps in bursts.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± Eilif muttered. He decided that perhaps Kira should be kept in the dark about his Blessing. At least until the time came. ¡°While I am immortal, my healing has¡­ degraded these past decades. What has happened to my face will take months to heal properly. The time it takes matters little to me, but¡­¡±

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°Master needs us,¡± Kira said with a sigh. ¡°I see now. You¡¯d run around with that thing on your face for a few more agonizing years as long as it means our Master¡¯s objective is completed.¡±

    ¡°I would gladly give up conformity just to see the day he achieves his dreams,¡± Eilif said. ¡°Even if I don¡¯t live to see it.¡±

    Kira raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, she looked all around the cargo hold of the ship, her gaze settling on a nearby barrel that was tied down. ¡°What sort of ship did you get us onto?¡±

    ¡°Trader ship,¡± Eilif revealed. ¡°Aligned with the Boar clan. They¡¯ll be stopping soon at a nearby town to resupply and rest. There, we¡¯ll get off and head to another ship.¡±

    ¡°How long until we reach the southern edge?¡±

    ¡°Well, that would take perhaps a week. At best.¡±

    ¡°So slow¡­¡± Kira groaned.

    Quite. Yet Eilif didn¡¯t fret about the time. He was immortal, after all. His perception of time had warped these past centuries, and his memories of his past were a blur to him. Then again, that had more to do with his creation than lifespan.

    Eilif was somewhat both an anomaly and a natural part of this world. Damned to be a part of it for as long as the magic that held his tissue and bone together would last. There was some hope of an eternal rest in the form of his recently hampered regeneration. His body produced blood by the pint rather than gallon, and most wounds healed over the span of days rather than hours.

    That didn¡¯t include the nasty injury that was his jaw and throat. Held together by his mask only, the injury would take far more trouble and time than it was worth to even heal properly. During that time, he wouldn¡¯t be able to talk. He probably wouldn¡¯t even be able to move that much without messing with the healing process and permanently malforming his mouth.

    ¡®Maybe with a little burst of Potency¡­¡¯

    He shook his head at that. No, Eilif would have to bear with the pain for now. This Blessing had been one that was not granted so carelessly. Master trusted it with him for a reason. There was always a reason. It was clear to Eilif that his creator was close to getting what he needed to achieve their long sought-after goal. He alone had done so much for the cause. All that was needed from Eilif were the things he couldn¡¯t do himself, lest he ousted himself to the world.

    ¡°Tell me,¡± Kira called out, interrupting the immortal man¡¯s thoughts. Eilif raised his head at that, his gaze on the young woman.

    ¡°What do you see in that Jarl?¡± she asked.

    ¡°The old man?¡± Eilif asked, recalling one of the clans he had made a deal with.

    ¡°He seems too¡­ obsessed with taking down Holter,¡± Kira said. ¡°A vendetta almost. Yet they have never met before.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Eilif started. ¡°Well, for starters, he sees him as nothing more than a peasant. An outlander that doesn¡¯t deserve the title of Jarl, no matter his standing.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s stupid.¡±

    ¡°Well, there¡¯s also the fact that Holter had forced him to a position of helplessness he had never experienced before,¡± Eilif pointed out. ¡°Brought him down to his level, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°I guess that makes some sense,¡± Kira muttered. ¡°I still don¡¯t see the obsession most people have over Holter. Sure, he forced a couple old Jarls to his terms. That¡¯s still not interesting enough to warrant our involvement.¡±

    Eilif shrugged. ¡°Some folk are intimidated by massive change, and others are utterly terrified of it. Besides, aren¡¯t you obsessed with Halvorson? Our own target?¡±

    Kira flushed at that, her lips curling with a grin. ¡°He¡¯s a far more interesting person. He killed Eli, you know.¡±

    ¡°I know,¡± Eilif said. ¡°But Eli was, at best, a competent pawn. Seamus killing him is surprising but nothing extraordinary once you look at the facts. He was accompanied by two Wizards and a decent fighter. All of which barely made it out with their lives. Seamus only delivered the killing blow.¡±

    Kira scoffed at that. ¡°You obviously didn¡¯t see what I saw.¡±

    ¡°You were scrying the fight?¡± Eilif asked carefully, with clear surprise in his voice. He wasn¡¯t sure why it bothered him. His master had probably done so as well, and the same was going for all of his children.

    ¡°I always am,¡± Kira said, her finger tapping the side of her head. ¡°Seamus delivered the killing blow. That much is true. But you didn¡¯t see the casting he used.¡±

    ¡°It was a Power Strike, no?¡± Eilif asked. That made the most sense. Power Strike, if used well, could have broken through the mist Eli was using. ¡°That or Precision Strike.¡±

    Kira shook her head, a heinous grin forming on her lips. She leaned back against the hull of the ship, her eyes glinting with purple shine. ¡°He used Flash Strike.¡±

    Eilif stiffened at that, the air growing quiet as he mulled over her reveal. ¡°That so?¡±

    Did none of the others even bother to tell them this? Not even his master mentioned such a thing. Then again, why would he? This information did not concern Eilif, although it did slightly unnerved him.

    ¡°You know what that means, no?¡± Eilif asked. There was now no doubt about why his master wanted Halvorson dead. Not if it meant leaving any trace of him behind.

    Kira nodded with a disappointed pout, a sigh escaping from her. ¡°I still want to peer into that head of his. To figure out what makes him the way he is.¡±

    Eilif knew exactly what she was talking about. He himself had told Kira about the time Seamus had fought against the witch Lydia back in Vindis. He had meant to relay the story to his master months ago but hadn¡¯t found the time to do so. Kira, on the other hand, was more than happy to hear it.

    It only increased her obsession with the young lad, her focus solely on peering through his thoughts and memories. The mystery behind his state of mind excited her to no end. That much was clear in the way her body shivered every time she talked about Seamus.

    ¡®As long as it doesn¡¯t get in the way of our quest, I don¡¯t care.¡¯

    Eilif was simple: do the job and come out on top. He had no desire to figure out men''s inner workings and life goals. He only wanted to please his master and finish what he had started centuries ago.

    ¡°Have you ever been curious about such people? Don¡¯t tell me you never looked at anyone before,¡± Kira prompted.

    Eilif disregarded the question, but not before a brief thought passed over his mind. For a second, an image materialized in his mind. A memory from a distant time, at a place where the sun shone through all the hours of the day. An image of someone that he had once known, back during a simpler time.

    Before Eilif got involved in the games of meddling Gods and men. Before he had this accursed name. Before he had died.

    ¡°Eilif?¡± Kira asked, her head tilting as the immortal man stirred uncomfortably. He looked up at the hatch that led into the upper decks, where the crew moved to keep the ship moving. There, he saw the curious glance of a young boy who had been recruited to mop the deck. The boy quickly moved at the sight of Eilif staring at him, removing himself from where he was standing.

    While quick, the immortal man had noted the way the boy¡¯s face had paled when he saw Eilif looking at him. There was a chance he hadn¡¯t heard much, only the tail end of whatever worthless conversation they were having. Then again, Eilif wasn¡¯t his master¡¯s favorite for being careless.

    ¡°Get your things,¡± Eilif said. ¡°Time to go.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re moving ships again?¡± Kira groaned.

    Eilif nodded as he stood, his hand grabbing his daggers. ¡°Stay put and get what you need. I¡¯m going to kill everyone on top. When I¡¯m done, we can go.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t join in on the fun?¡± Kira asked with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°No,¡± Eilif said simply. ¡°We¡¯re perhaps a couple miles from the nearest outpost. Good chance there might be witnesses. On the off chance, I¡¯d rather risk a confrontation rather than your particular talent getting exposed.¡±

    ¡°So considerate,¡± Kira thanked mockingly, her hand waving Eilif off as he headed to the hatch.

    ¡°Just keep to yourself. And recast your illusion magic. I can already see it faltering,¡± Eilif chastised before he opened the hatch.

    He would kill the shipmaster first. Sow in an air of chaos before he picked them off one by one. The boy who was listening would be last. In a sickening way, Eilif almost wanted him to learn that he was the reason behind all their deaths.

    It was dirty work, but Eilif was made for such duty. It was his purpose.

 B.4 Chapter 15: The Armor

    James yawned as he stepped out into the streets of Vindis, Nora right behind him as they headed off to the Valdora District. Both of them wanted to stop by to grab something to eat from the street vendors there instead of the moldy bread back at the Drunken Draugr. He¡¯d rather spend the extra coin on something substantial and edible.

    ¡°So, I¡¯m going to stay here for the coming months?¡± Nora asked as she followed James.

    ¡°Just until Bloom comes,¡± James confirmed. ¡°And don¡¯t worry, you won¡¯t be staying at the tavern the entire time. Markov is working on getting you an actual decent place to stay. Probably somewhere quiet like the Silver District.¡±

    ¡°Thank the gods for that,¡± Nora muttered in relief. ¡°I¡¯d rather not sleep in a cramped room again.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll have the room to yourself tonight,¡± James said. ¡°I¡¯m heading back home today. I have to deal with more clan stuff there. We¡¯re discussing expansion into the rest of the island.¡±

    ¡°I suppose I could handle myself in this city for a few months,¡± Nora sighed aloud. James could tell she was more than a bit annoyed at being left on her own.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry too much about it. Markov and Carla from the Merchant¡¯s Guild will be here to help you out,¡± James said as he stopped in front of a vendor¡¯s cart, the man behind it serving kebabs. Or what looked like kebabs. ¡°And if that doesn¡¯t work out, I could always send someone to accompany you for your time here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine,¡± Nora huffed. She watched as James handed some silver to the vendor, who traded back some kebabs in return. ¡°As long as I¡¯m getting paid for being your stand-in, I could care less about who¡¯s around to keep me company.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, say what you will,¡± James chuckled as he offered Nora a kebab. The councilwoman carefully accepted it, her eyes examining it with distrust.

    ¡°It won¡¯t kill you,¡± James said as he took a bite out of his. ¡°It¡¯s an Arenian staple. Not bad, eh?¡±

    Nora grimaced a little before she decided to chance a bite. She chewed a couple times, her expression changing from cautious disgust to unexpected surprise. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ alright.¡±

    ¡°Best get used to it,¡± James said as he ate the rest of his. ¡°Arenian street food is pretty much the only thing here that¡¯s guaranteed not to give you dysentery.¡±

    ¡°Dysentery?¡±

    ¡°Earth terminology,¡± James responded with a shrug. ¡°It¡¯s a sickness that makes you shit yourself to death. The best way to avoid it is to eat actual food.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­¡± Nora muttered as she examined her kebab once more with caution. She looked even more hesitant to eat.

    ¡°Anyway,¡± James started. He looked around the plaza they were in, his gaze examining the street signs nearby. ¡°I should get going. I want to stop by Nathan¡¯s shop to grab something before I head back home.¡±

    ¡°Well, what should I do?¡± Nora asked with some confusion. ¡°The next meeting won¡¯t be for another week.¡±

    ¡°Get used to Vindis, explore a little,¡± James called back as he headed off. ¡°Just uh, don¡¯t go to the Copper District. Or the Iron District. Actually, avoid any shady alleys and streets. Trust the thieves. No, wait, trust the thieves.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You know which ones I¡¯m talking about, I already told you how to spot them,¡± James explained. He stopped for a moment to think. ¡°Just ask for Markov. He¡¯ll send someone to be your guide, promise!¡±

    Without allowing Nora to even say anything, James headed into the nearest street, leaving the councilwoman amid the Valdora District. She would be fine, he knew. He had made sure to let Markov know to protect Nora while she was here.

    ¡®Besides, if anything, the guardsmen here technically work for me. She¡¯ll be fine.¡¯

    With that in mind, James made headway to Nathan¡¯s shop.

    <hr>

    Vindis city had a tendency to be a confusing mess to navigate. James found it particularly difficult to figure out which bridge led to which platform. Platforms also varied in size and height. Some were so thin and small that they felt like rafts whenever James stepped on them, while others were the height of a small home. Their bridges were steep, and the dangers of falling were very, very real.

    James had tried many times to think of the logistics behind the Thieves Guild tunnels, but he gave up soon after. It was best not to question such things.

    The platform on which Nathan¡¯s shop resided was difficult to access. James had gotten lost more times than he¡¯d care to admit, the twisting alleyways and shifty bridges confusing him every time.

    Regardless, he had visited the Wizard¡¯s shop so many times that he could now find the route blindfolded. Not that he was inviting anyone to test him on that. James still had the irrational fear of falling between the platforms and getting crushed. It was a rare thing to happen due to the ¡®safety¡¯ precautions in the form of rope and barriers, but James still kept careful around the bridges and edges.

    After a couple turns, James could see the shop¡¯s signature blue torches, the sign reading out another new addition the Wizard had added recently.

    <h2 style="text-align: center">Nathan¡¯s Runes and Gizmos</h2>

    NO REFUNDS

    Proud affiliate with the White Raven Clan!

    James couldn¡¯t help but grimace at the small text, which had a small white raven drawn next to it. He knew Nathan was banking on the name in order to increase business.

    ¡®Well, to be fair,¡¯ Faust started. ¡®It did work.¡¯

    James looked to the doors of the Wizard¡¯s shop, where people were constantly entering and leaving. They varied from obvious members of the Thieves Guild to young Mages, adventurers, and the odd gnome.

    This had been business for the shop for the past four months, with their clientele ranging from James and the odd adventurer to entire parties of people looking for items to use on their jobs. Whether it¡¯d be mercenary work or a random quest, people wanted something. There were also the thieves, who actually bought things here. Things to use for stealing stuff, sure, but at least they were good business.

    James sighed as he opened the shop¡¯s door, the bell ringing out as he entered. He could see Wheaton, the gnome responsible for the front of the shop, helping a couple of clients choose artificer-made gadgets. James decided not to interrupt the gnome and did his best to avoid bumping into people as he ventured past the counter.

    After he passed through the curtain, he was in Nathan¡¯s workshop. It, too, had a revamped interior, with more bookcases and shelves of ingredients on display. James could see that a new room had even opened up further back, with more stuff in there.

    In the middle of the workshop, James could see Nathan talking it out with a customer.

    ¡°Will it work?¡± The valdora wielding man whispered, to which James could hear clearly in the quiet shop.

    ¡°It¡¯ll work wonders,¡¯ Nathan said with a grin, his hand shaking a golden vial.

    Nathan Arkanus was roughly James¡¯ height, with tanned skin almost like Dahlia¡¯s. James could see a scar beneath his crooked spectacles and hat, running along the left side of his face. It was an old reminder of his fight with the marauder Eli.

    James waited around as the Wizard was occupied, his gaze moving to the other side of the workshop. There, he could see a lone gnome woman working on a bench. She was tinkering with a small box, her hands lazily piecing the parts together. Upon a closer look, James could notice dark bags underneath her eyes.

    ¡°Getting any sleep, Hilda?¡± James asked the artificer.

    Hilda perked up at the sound of his voice, her head slowly turning. She glanced back at James with a tired look, her dark brown hair spilling from her messily made bun onto her forehead. She looked like hell, her cheeks gaunt, and her eyes ridden with exhaustion. Regardless, she gave James a small smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m doing fine,¡± she muttered softly. The young Jarl could barely hear her.

    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re fine?¡± James asked. He furrowed his brow in worry. ¡°You need sleep.¡±

    ¡°I need to keep working,¡± Hilda murmured as she turned back to her bench. ¡°It¡¯s the only thing I need.¡±

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    James couldn¡¯t help but feel remorse for the gnome. She had been a part of the group that carried the totem through Vindis during Midsommar. He remembered Dahlia telling him about how Vinn, her partner, had been brutally killed in front of them all. That night had traumatized her and done untold damage to her psyche.

    James was shocked that she was able to keep working, and even more so that she refused any help. Every time he visited the shop, Hilda was still sitting at her bench, working.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to get her to take time off,¡± Nathan¡¯s voice whispered from James¡¯ right. He turned around to see the worried Wizard right behind him.

    ¡°Have you tried, I don¡¯t know, closing the shop?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Tried that. She still managed to get in,¡± Nathan revealed. ¡°Hilda¡­ We¡¯ve tried what we could. All we can do now is wait and hope she snaps out of it.¡±

    James couldn¡¯t help but feel responsible. Responsible for all the pain that had been caused.

    ¡®If only I was faster. Stronger.¡¯

    He knew things would be different had he just been strong enough to go up against Deimos and Arthur. If he had just been fast enough to stop both from making things worse...

    ¡®We can¡¯t dwell on impossible feats,¡¯ Faust muttered internally, ¡®It is one thing to feel guilty over things that could have been stopped. It is another to think you could have done the impossible.¡¯

    ¡®I know,¡¯ James answered back. ¡®It just feels like I¡¯m helpless sometimes. Like I¡¯m useless.¡¯

    James had spent the better part of a year training and sharpening his skills, but his efforts had not brought him anywhere close to Deimos¡¯ level. He was certain that if they had fought that night, James would most certainly have lost.

    Deimos was stronger than he had initially expected. The marauder leader had been rumored to be on the same level as Yorn, but James never expected him to be enough to slaughter an entire group of Lumen Knights. Twice in one night, nonetheless.

    James himself was barely able to kill Gryff with the help of his friends and allies.  Even then, he had to resort to unconventional tactics to finish the knight off, which had nearly killed James in the process.

    He still felt like he would have trouble with the knight now, with his strength as it is. He had improved, sure, but he knew it wasn¡¯t enough. No, James needed to reach a level of power that was comparable to Yorn Halvorson. He needed to get stronger. The only way to do that was to train himself relentlessly and learn more spells.

    ¡®And get better gear.¡¯

    James focused on the reason he had come here in the first place. He turned to the direction of Rockford¡¯s forge, where the old dwarf did his smithing for most of James¡¯ gear and armor.

    ¡°Is it ready?¡± James asked the Wizard. ¡°The armor, I mean.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Rockford should be adding the finishing touches on it right now,¡± Nathan responded before he headed off to the forge¡¯s entrance. He tapped his knuckle on the steel door, awaiting a response. After a moment, the door swung back to reveal Rockford. The old dwarf was in his blacksmith apron, his forehead gleaming with sweat and his hands holding an oversized hammer that looked similar to Haggard¡¯s own.

    ¡°Eh? Oh, James!¡± the dwarf exclaimed in surprise before he tossed the hammer aside. He stepped up to the young Jarl, his gloved hand reaching out for a handshake. James accepted the gesture, doing his best to not make a face as his hand was covered with what felt like oil and soot. He decided not to ask what it was.

    ¡°How are you doing, Rockford?¡± James asked. ¡°Any progress on your side of things?¡±

    ¡°Aye,¡± Rockford said as he pulled away, his attention to the forge behind him. James could see how the other room was lit by the smoldering furnace and pit in its center, lighting the workshop the old dwarf used. He spotted readily made swords, maces, spears, and even pieces of armor.

    ¡°That sharp-wire of yours was pretty easy to make. Give me a week, and I¡¯ll have a spool of it ready for you,¡± Rockford explained as he pulled out a sample of what James had requested. It was roughly half a foot of steel wire, spotted with razor-sharp barbs.

    ¡°Good man,¡± James complimented as he examined the barbed wire. He had a couple of ideas in mind for it and couldn¡¯t wait to implement them when he got back home. ¡°How are the other projects going?¡±

    Rockford shrugged, a hint of frustration coming over his eyes as he looked to the rear of the room, where long pieces of slag iron lay. He sighed and headed to the door nearby. ¡°There¡¯s not much progress with that gon of yours.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± James raised an eyebrow as he stepped into the other room with Rockford. The blacksmith was walking his way to the rear of the workshop, where his surplus of weapons and armor lay. Rockford picked up a small piece of iron tubing that had a carved wooden handle attached to its rear. James had to squint in the low light to recognize it as a crude makeshift firearm.

    Not long ago, James had drawn up rough schematics for a flintlock pistol. He had gotten the idea after reminiscing about the grenades the gnomes had crafted for him last Frost. Of course, he would have come up with it much sooner had he not been fighting for his life for a better part of a year.

    He thought it to be a simple affair. Put steel balls as ammo and a few grains of blast powder, and ignite them with a flintlock mechanism. Of course, James had found out quickly that he was not an expert on firearms. It was only after weeks of improving upon his initial design that he was able to come up with a decent enough prototype that Rockford and Hilda could approve of.

    ¡°What you ask of me is out of the realm of my expertise,¡± Rockford said as he turned the device to the light. While crudely made, it had all the right features of a working pistol. ¡°Even with Hilda¡¯s help, I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯ll work. Especially if we can¡¯t test it.¡±

    ¡°Right, the ammunition problem,¡± James sighed. Rockford nodded at that.

    ¡°Blast powder ain¡¯t easy to get a hold of,¡± the dwarf explained. ¡°The only reason the gnomes had any last year was due to Vinn¡¯s connection in Haven. However¡­¡±

    The dwarf trailed off for a moment, a deep frown appearing on his hardened face. James didn¡¯t have to ask to know what Rockford was thinking about. Vinn, the gnome who had procured the powder, had died during Midsommar. Any knowledge about the blast powder and its origins went with him.

    ¡°Perhaps I can help in that,¡± Nathan spoke up finally, the Wizard breaking his silence. ¡°A couple archmages and alchemists in Haven owe me a favor. I can send some letters and ask about this blast powder. Probably won¡¯t have a response until after the New Year, however.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d do that?¡± James asked in surprise. The Wizard shrugged.

    ¡°It¡¯s worth a try.¡±

    ¡°Good chance it might be a gnomish secret,¡± Rockford grumbled as he set the firearm to the pile of scrap he had fished it out of. ¡°Tell them to take care in their questioning and prodding. Best we don¡¯t piss off the Artificers Guild.¡±

    ¡°As long as we don¡¯t hit another dead end,¡± James muttered as he looked at the scrap pile, where other projects were laid to eternal rest. ¡°Nathan told me you have my armor ready?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I do,¡± Rockford chuckled as he trudged toward the other side of the room. He returned with a small chest. ¡°Just finished cleaning it up for you, actually.¡±

    James watched as the dwarf set the box down, his gloved hands unlocking and opening it over him. Nestled neatly in the middle of the box was the breastplate of the armor set. James leaned over and picked it up, his eyes examining the engravings and runic symbols carved into it. The orcs and Dahlia had made this set for him back before Midsommar as a gift.

    Forged by Horuk and Silas, with finishing touches done by Rockford himself. Made from the same set of armor that Gryff Brenwick wore when he was killed by James a year back.

    ¡®Really have to stop reminding myself of that,¡¯ James grimly thought. It was already enough that he was mentally scarred by the sight of the dead knight. To actively know that he was wearing his armor was enough to make him sick.

    As James examined the breastplate¡ªwhich looked as good as new¡ªhe noted how the air shimmered around it. Now that he got a closer look, he realized that the runes were giving off a low blue glow, making it clear that they were enchanted. James looked down at the open chest, where he saw a similar glow emanating from the rest of the set.

    ¡°Are these¡­?¡±

    ¡°Defensive runes engravings,¡± Nathan interrupted. ¡°Coupled with enchantments, of course. The boots specifically have stamina enchantments, with a bit of an agility boost. Gauntlets have basic defense runes and some magical resistances. Makes it easier to deflect strikes and use your cyromancy without the worry of damaging your gloves.¡±

    ¡°I¨C¡±

    ¡°Breastplate is engraved with defense runes that are on par with basic Carapace.  Added some personal enhancements that should be able to resist advanced spells like Ice Lance or¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nathan,¡± James interrupted, his hand grabbing the Wizard by the shoulder. ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t afford this. Genuinely.¡±

    With how expenses were at the moment, even with the valdoras he acquired from the Aldren vault, he simply could not afford enchantments of this level. Especially with his coffers being stretched thin by guardsmen funding and his business endeavors.

    ¡°It¡¯s on us,¡± Nathan responded with a chuckle.

    ¡°What?¡± James blinked in surprise. ¡°What are you¡­?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t owe us anything,¡± Rockford added as he took the breastplate away from James. The old dwarf then set it carefully in the chest before closing it and handing it back to the young Jarl.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand, why?¡± James asked. ¡°Don¡¯t you guys lose money for engraving runes?¡¯

    From what he could recall, rune engravings were expensive for a reason. They required actual gold dust¡ªor valdora if you prefer¡ªin order to function and last. Not only that, but they took ages to set in perfectly. One could easily mess it up if a step was done incorrectly.

    ¡°Eh,¡± Nathan shrugged. ¡°We already make enough money as it is with the constant customers. Not just that, but you did save the city.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t alone in that,¡± James muttered. ¡°Hell, you and Seamus technically saved me.¡±

    ¡°Well, to be fair, if it wasn¡¯t for you bringing the cavalry, we wouldn¡¯t be alive right now,¡± Nathan responded. ¡°Besides, you¡¯re good business.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± James couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. ¡°Seriously. Thank you all. You guys have been there for me for a year now and saved my ass more than once. Thank you again.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it,¡± Nathan said, his hand patting James on the back. ¡°Just give them hell.¡±

    <hr>

    James was still grinning as he approached the ship Draugr¡¯s Haunt, its crew all prepping the longship for departure. He carried with him the chest Rockford, and Nathan had given to him. In it was his full set of armor, which also came with a couple of choice potions and herbs he had bought for Dahlia.

    ¡°We¡¯re all set,¡± James called out to Dimitri, who had just spotted him.

    ¡°Good timing! We¡¯re ready to go!¡± the eccentric shipmaster shouted back.

    James proceeded to board the ship, his hands careful not to drop the chest of valuables. Once he got settled on the deck, he looked at the horizon adjacent to the floating city, specifically the direction to Yorktown.

    He could see how the morning sun had risen slowly, even behind the gray clouds that blanketed the sky. The day was still young, and he had no doubts he¡¯d reach the island he called home before sunset.

    ¡°Dimitri, Liam,¡± James called as he looked at the crew. ¡°Let us be on our way.¡±

 B.4 Chapter 16: The Foreigner

    Naomi Miller was an Outlander. Summoned years back to the continent of Kasan, she had spent her time fighting for her life and trying to survive. So far, with the guidance of Thien and others, she had managed to keep herself alive. Of course, despite doing what was asked of her and more, the young woman had been enduring nothing but setback after setback.

    She was alone with no connections or allies. The only thing she could call a friend¡ªwhich was far-fetched, to say the least¡ªwas the hellish Demi-God that called himself Thien. He had given her a quest, one that actually aligned with her intentions for the first time ever.

    ¡®Your quest is to simply cut the head off the man who is behind the Tyok Incident. Do that, and I¡¯ll grant whatever request you might have left.¡¯

    The request she had was simple. It was a goal the Outlander had since the beginning. Ever since she had been dragged into this game set up by those conniving Gods and Deities. She was betting that Thien was currently watching over her, his spindly fingers putting valdoras on her name alone.

    ¡®Best I get this over with as soon as possible.¡¯

    Naomi carefully navigated the crowds that filled Yorktown¡¯s marketplace, her slim figure slipping past busy folk and merchants. She was in her element, and the crowded streets gave her a chance to blend in and get closer to finding out more about the town and clan. And him.

    James Holter was the target of her objective. Just like Thien told her, he was the way for her to find the people behind the Tyok Incident. The same incident that had robbed her of everything. Of everyone.

    ¡®If he¡¯s even slightly involved¡­¡¯

    Naomi forced that thought away. She needed to keep her emotions in check and, more importantly, determine if James Hotler was associated with those men. There was a good chance that Thien had led her on to try and create unnecessary chaos.

    Dremor¡¯s Boatman had a tendency to make things much more complicated than they needed to be. His words were twisted, and his intentions were always unclear. Naomi could choose not to believe anything he said, but it was annoying since he never lied about things.

    Thien was as truthful as they came. He just happened to ¡®forget¡¯ important info and context with his briefings. Naomi had learned this the hard way during her initial years in Azura. The son of Myr reveled in conflict, especially if it was unnecessary. That was one thing he shared with the God of Chaos. That and his damned smile.

    ¡®As long as I¡¯m careful in my quest, I can get through it without any unnecessary bloodshed.¡¯

    Naomi planned to confront James when he was alone and without the option to flee. She had initially thought about talking to him back when she spotted him on the docks but decided against it. If Holter was affiliated with her enemy, then she would have no choice but to kill him then and there. Having no witnesses or backup would make it all the more easier to do so. It was purely logical.

    The young woman was so caught up in her thoughts that she neglected to pay attention to her blind spot. On her walk, she bumped into someone, her left shoulder colliding with them.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Naomi mumbled an apology. She turned her head to the stranger as her vision was obscured on her left. With only one eye to use, Naomi had to be careful with her surroundings.

    ¡°No problem,¡± the stranger waved off the incident. She was an older woman, possibly in her forties. She had blond hair that was tied up, leaving her blue eyes to be more visibly seen. At first, Naomi assumed she had bumped into a relative of Holter, but she soon dismissed that. This stranger didn¡¯t have the aura that most Outlanders had. She was clearly Azuran.

    ¡°Do I know you?¡± the stranger asked, her brow furrowing.

    ¡®Shit, does she notice it?¡¯

    ¡°You must have me confused with someone else,¡± Naomi said with a shrug. ¡°I¡¯m new here.¡±

    The young woman was internally panicking at the thought of her presence being made. She had done her best to hide the otherworldly aura she gave off. Despite her enchanted items and passive skills, the uncanny feeling that emanated from Naomi was still there. Even if it was barely noticeable, certain people had an eye for these things.

    ¡®This is bad. If she knows¡­¡¯

    ¡°Hm, must be coincidence,¡± the stranger muttered, a response that was more or less directed at herself. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ll be on my way.¡±

    Naomi only nodded before she, too, headed off toward the edge of the town, mainly to get away from the stranger before she caught on to who she really was. The last thing she wanted was for her presence to be announced to the other Outlander. James Holter was still an unknown, and she knew that if he was affiliated with those people she called her enemy, then her entire quest was more or less fucked.

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    ¡®Just gotta keep a low profile. At least until James gets back to the island.¡¯

    Until then, Naomi was going to scour this island for any clues.

    <hr>

    Helen felt more than a little miffed at the stranger she had bumped into earlier. She was currently on her way to the marketplace, mainly to get something to eat for herself, when she encountered the strange young woman. At first, Helen didn¡¯t think much of it until she felt it.

    The feeling that something was off. It had been ages since she felt like this, and yet, at the same time, it was very familiar. She could have sworn she recognized it.

    ¡®But what is it? Danger?¡¯

    No. While Helen was never blessed with the Alert skill, she always had good instincts regarding dangerous people. This person wasn¡¯t dangerous, at least not toward the veteran. Helen recognized the look in the woman¡¯s lone eye. It was the same gaze that accompanied those who had experienced death before. It was similar to Seamus¡¯ gaze whenever he reminisced to her about the past.

    She had gone through some shit. That was for sure.

    ¡®So young, though,¡¯ Helen thought. The stranger was likely no more than James¡¯ own age, her youth still apparent even with the bags under her eyes and the noticeable scars that ran on her left cheek.

    Yet she still had the same manners as someone who had just been through a war. The fidgeting at her side and the quick glances she gave when she eventually walked off. It reminded Helen of herself in the following years after the end of the Outsider Wars. Like she was looking at the same fidgety girl who had just been discharged from the Redyr company, her service as a hired sword no longer needed.

    ¡®Maybe I should¡­¡¯

    Before Helen could even think of following the young woman, the stranger had disappeared into the crowd, leaving not a trace behind.

    <hr>

    Naomi peeked from her spot in the alleyway, her Alert skill not picking up any more detection. It had flared up when she disengaged from the blonde woman, which confirmed to her that she was being suspected. At least, that¡¯s what she guessed. Even after all the time she spent with Alert, Naomi still had a weak grasp on how it worked.

    From everyone she had spoken to, from aged warriors to high Wizards, the skill worked like an instinct. Detecting those who are either potential threats or noticing people who simply looked at her for too long. It was almost like it chose what was important in spite of what the user¡¯s idea of importance was. Despite that, Naomi still couldn¡¯t get it to work properly.

    ¡®Wish I knew how to train with it a bit more.¡¯

    The young woman shook her head at that. There was no time to get lost in her random thoughts and tangents. She had an island to scour. Yesterday had proved to be fruitless, with the only notable thing being the orcs that visited every now and then. Yet they indicated nothing interesting outside the fact that Holter was particularly good at diplomacy. Either him or someone else.

    Naomi had dealt with orcs before, and she was surprised to see them allied with humans in this part of Valenfrost. Not that she had never met a friendly orc; it was just rare for her to see them.

    The town had nothing special about it outside of the marketplace. That and ¡®New Aldren,¡¯ whatever that was.

    ¡®I guess all that¡¯s left is the mountain.¡¯

    Naomi peeked out once more and shifted her focus toward the edge of town. Behind the tall forest that lay behind the distant wall, she could catch a glimpse of a mountain. If it could be called that. She had seen it on her way here and figured it to be a hill at first until her ship had gotten closer. Now that she was on the island, Naomi could clearly make out the stone cliffs and barely visible path that winded around it.

    She had found out yesterday that the guardsmen usually took turns going up there. Not that it was an open secret, either. Naomi only happened to find out when she scouted the town at night, overhearing someone named Jonas complain about the walk up the steep hill. After listening in some more in the proximity of other guards, Naomi found out that there was something guarded up there.

    Something that not even they knew.

    ¡®Guess I know where I¡¯m going.¡¯

    Naomi could always wait until nighttime to infiltrate, but something told her it would probably be much, much safer to do so in the daytime.

    ¡®Well, I¡¯ve done better in worse conditions.¡¯

    The Outlander formed a series of runes with her fingers, her breath coming out in a whisper.

    ¡°Feather Step. Shadow Step.¡±

    With her buffs active, Naomi rushed toward the forest, her movements careful and precise. She was pleasantly surprised at the lack of sunlight, making her movement between shadows easier and more noticeable. Feather Step was probably a little overkill, considering Naomi¡¯s black cloak was enchanted to muffle sound, but the trained Outlander did not make it this far being underprepared.

    Besides, there was a chance she could run into someone who had enhanced senses. Especially hearing. There was no way in hell she was going to risk it.

    Naomi made it to the forest in no time, where her speed picked up underneath the shadows of the canopies. She quickly cast another Shadow Step, extending its life span as she made her way up.

    The steep incline was a bit of a problem, but Naomi had no doubts she would be able to make it to the mountain in no time. While she doubted she¡¯d find anything interesting with whatever they were guarding, Naomi knew she had to figure out what it was. It would drive her crazy if she left it be.

    Little did she know that it would be something beyond her expectations.

 B.4 Chapter 17: Naomi (Part 1 of 2)

    James stretched his legs as he stepped onto Yorktown¡¯s docks, his arms extending above his head. He sighed a breath of relief. Despite being out at sea for a couple of days, he had grown to miss his home. To miss solid ground.

    ¡°Thank the Gods we¡¯re here,¡± he muttered. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect to get here so soon, but I guess we can chalk that up to divine intervention.¡±

    That earned him a chuckle from Dimitri, who carried the Jarl¡¯s items in a chest. ¡°The winds have blessed us, and the sea has decided to favor our vessel. I will say that is probably a new record.¡±

    ¡°Well, record or no record, I¡¯m just happy to be home,¡± James admitted. He looked up at the sky¡ªwhich was still gray¡ªand noted how it hadn¡¯t even started to get dark yet. The evening hadn¡¯t arrived yet. That meant he still had work to do, people to talk with, and projects to continue.

    Projects that he hoped would soon come to fruition. Despite being in Azura for over a year, James rarely had the opportunity to bring over ideas from his own world. There were glimpses, of course, such as the battle plan that helped in Yorktown¡¯s defense and the half-baked tactics he used during his quest to the three islands last year. Yet he never had the chance to truly bring some of his world¡¯s ideas to this world.

    That was until he finally managed to attain the resources and manpower. For the past few months, James was able to explore ideas that had filled the back of his mind during his time in Valenfrost. While a couple were promising, such as the barbed wire and the crude pistol Rockford had made for him, there were still failures.

    Electricity and power failed horribly when James tried to use Falrick as a human generator. The magically induced lightning fried every makeshift wire it touched and couldn¡¯t be contained at all. Closest was the experimental silver wiring, but even that couldn¡¯t resist for long. James tried to go for steam engines after, but that also nearly blew up in his face. Mainly because he had little to no knowledge of how the machinations worked.

    Rockford seemed to be the only one to even have an inkling of an idea, and he ended up nearly blowing half of his forge into pieces. The dwarf had then mentioned something about a Goddess¡¯ tits and swore to never conduct such an experiment again. James concurred and decided to shelve the idea for another time. Perhaps when he had more knowledge.

    Thankfully for him, James had learned that steam engines had existed in Azura at some point¡ªat least, according to the dwarven tales Rockford and Nathan had mentioned. Of course, the knowledge of the engines was lost forever, but there were remnants of them around Azura, classified as relics of a bygone era. Basically, it meant that steam-powered generators weren¡¯t out of the realm of possibilities.

    ¡®A hunt for relics. Sounds kinda fun,¡¯ James thought as he walked to Dimitri to accept his things. For now, however, James had responsibilities to fulfill. He couldn¡¯t wait to get through the day and finally get back to Dahlia. Perhaps they could¡ª

    BOOM

    A loud, distant explosion echoed in the air, interrupting James¡¯ thoughts. He stopped in place, his heart dropping. He initially thought the source to be from the town or maybe even one of the checkpoints.

    ¡®Raiders?!¡¯

    No, he immediately disregarded that possibility. It was coming from somewhere else. Somewhere more inland.

    CRACK

    Another sound, this one reminiscent of thunder. James finally figured out the source, his gaze focusing on the mountain. The same one where the Beholder Eye was being kept safe. Even from the harbor, James could see how smoke billowed from the entrance to the same cave he was once summoned from.

    ¡°Oh. Shit.¡±

    <hr>

    Helen rushed up the steep incline, her breathing heavy as she carried her spear and shield. She barely had time to get her gear on when the first explosion rang out. It was only after the sound of thunder that she was on her way.

    Even after only ten minutes passing, Helen was halfway there. She thanked the endurance training she had put herself through these past months. If it weren¡¯t for that, she doubted she¡¯d get this far this fast.

    ¡®Got to get there, now! Who knows what happened!¡¯

    Helen hoped to all the Gods that the explosion was just a result of the cursed demon eye combusting randomly. Or maybe¡ªhopefully¡ªMalik had finally gotten himself smote by a pissed-off deity. She was hoping for that especially.

    ¡®Or maybe¡­ Maybe he took the eye himself?¡¯

    Helen shook her head. That was the absolute worst case scenario. A necromancer of his level with an eye like that? Fuck that. Helen had no desire to deal with that. Regardless, it was her job. Her duty. Besides, there were guards posted up there. The last thing she wanted was for them to get hurt or, worse, die.

    ¡°Can¡¯t let anything happen to them!¡± Helen panted as she climbed the mountain path, her legs and chest burning with exertion.

    It wasn¡¯t long before Helen finally reached the path¡¯s end. From this vantage point, the view of the island¡ªand even Yorktown¡ªwas clear. However, she didn¡¯t focus on the view. The veteran instead shifted her gaze to the entrance carved into the mountain.

    Smoke billowed from the narrow passageway, forming a gray pillar that reached high into the heavens. Helen could spot no one nearby, which meant the guards had either run off or gone into the cave. She hoped they weren¡¯t stupid enough to rush in, but she knew better.

    Helen had trained these men to never abandon their posts unless it was absolutely necessary. Even though this situation called for them to leave, she knew that these were young, inexperienced men who were probably stupid enough not to recognize it as such.

    ¡°Bloom!¡± Helen shouted the code word into the cave, hoping to get some sort of response. None came, however. She grew increasingly worried.

    ¡°Bloom, dammit!¡± she called out as she approached the entrance, her spear and shield raised.

    A silhouette suddenly appeared in the dim passageway, the figure physically hunched as it approached the entrance.

    ¡°Horcus! Hor¨Ccough¨CHorcus!¡±

    It was one of the guards, his arm raised to cover his mouth and nose as he stumbled out into the open. Helen lowered her spear as she moved to drag him away.

    ¡°Where¡¯s your partner?¡± she asked.

    ¡°He¨Ccough¨Cwent to get help!¡± the guard managed. ¡°While I¡­ While I went in to help Malik!¡±

    Helen frowned. She didn¡¯t encounter the other guard on her way up here. Then again, it was possible she missed him when she took that shortcut earlier.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Helen asked. ¡°Where¡¯s Malik?¡±

    ¡°We¡­ We were ambushed by¡ª¡±

    Helen felt the world around her stop at that moment. She didn¡¯t even have time to hear what the guard was saying. Instead, her focus went to the sense of danger that was emanating from the passageway. Without thinking, Helen tackled the guard to the ground.

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    ¡°Arcane Lance!!¡±

    A lance of purple energy flew from the passageway, its trajectory flying out into the open air before it exploded into a purple shower of sparks past the cliff¡¯s edge.

    Helen recognized the voice to be Malik¡¯s, which at first made her believe the necromancer to be behind the breach. However, before she could even consider defending herself for another incoming lance, something emerged from the entrance.

    It was someone else entirely, a young woman, Helen guessed. Her cloak was swept over the right shoulder, revealing her clothes¡ªwhich were clearly kasani in origin¡ªand the forearm-length dagger she held.

    The long knife was a kasani blade, its straight edge polished to a near mirror-like reflection. The woman¡¯s clothes looked nothing out of the ordinary until Helen noticed the silver runes stitched into the seams of her tunic, boots, and even her cloak. It was hard to notice, but it all made sense once she saw them.

    This woman was a Kasani assassin. She fit the description almost perfectly. Helen tried to remember the name Tahir had given them the last time she conversed with him.

    ¡®Shinobi.¡¯

    ¡°Night Spray!¡± Malik¡¯s voice boomed with power, and his callout was followed by a flurry of purple orbs. They all rushed the shinobi, who quickly dodged it all with speed that surprised Helen. She moved with the gracefulness of a dancer while keeping up with the Night Spray casting.

    Malik soon made his appearance, the necromancer rushing out with a small dagger as he tried to stab at the stranger.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Helen shouted a warning as she stood up, her spear and shield raising as she rushed ahead. She caught both of the fighters off-guard, allowing Malik¡¯s Night Spray to finally hit its target.

    Multiple fireflies made contact with the shinobi woman, their magical flames setting her aflame as she tried to dodge them all. At the same time, Helen watched as Malik attempted a stab, his dagger aiming for the young woman¡¯s throat.

    Just as the sharp tip was about to make contact, the intruder disappeared. Vanished. Blinked out of existence. Helen blinked at the sudden change, her feet stopping her advance. She watched as Malik was hit with his own fireflies, his robes set aflame.

    ¡°Shit! Freezing Winds!¡± Malik quickly cast a spell, his surroundings being engulfed in a miniature cyclone of snowy winds. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to put out the flames and nearly freeze Helen¡¯s toes off.

    After the sudden change of events, the veteran stopped in place, her gaze moving around to search for the intruder.

    ¡°What¡­?¡±

    Right behind her was the panting form of the shinobi, her only eye wide in shock and her left hand on her heaving chest. She looked shaken, her expression more of fear rather than surprise.

    ¡°I¡­ I was hoping not to use that,¡± the young stranger muttered as she straightened herself. As she did so, Helen recognized the small cylindrical glass tube that was tucked into her satchel. She had stolen the eye, it seemed.

    Helen also got a better view of the perpetrator now that her hood was down. It was a young woman with short auburn hair that swayed in the breeze. Nearly a third of her head and face were wrapped in white bandages, covering her left eye and upper cheek.

    ¡°Wait, I know you,¡± Helen muttered. This was the same girl she bumped into back in Yorktown. It seemed like her instincts were right to be suspicious of her.

    ¡°Yeah, I was hoping this would go over quietly,¡± the young woman said. She patted down her clothes, almost like she was making sure she still wasn¡¯t on fire. ¡°But you guys made this much harder than it had to be.¡±

    Helen raised her shield, her spear wavering a bit as she contemplated on what to do. Should she negotiate? Attack? She wasn¡¯t sure what the right course would be.

    ¡°Why are you here?¡± was the most obvious question. It had left her lips before she even decided on what to do.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to correct some wrongs,¡± the shinobi answered. ¡°And unfortunately, it seems like your Jarl has done a lot of wrongs.¡±

    Helen was about to refute this but quickly stopped herself. It would be difficult to even begin defending her position, especially when she was standing next to a fucking necromancer and fighting for the protection of a demonic artifact that was bound to be worthy of a holy smite.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a long story,¡± Helen muttered.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it is,¡± the young woman sighed. ¡°But unfortunately, I¡¯ve heard more than enough of my fair share of necessary evils. Especially from other Earthlings¡­¡±

    ¡°So I guess there¡¯s no way to talk this out?¡± Helen asked. She already knew the answer to that question, but it was more or less time until more reinforcements came. Every second counted, after all.

    ¡°No,¡± the shinobi said simply, her knife rising. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best not to kill you. No promises.¡±

    With that, the kasani assassin rushed the veteran and necromancer, her speed almost blinding.

    <hr>

    Dahlia ran through the forest with Seamus in tow, her dagger in hand. She would have preferred to grab a sword or a more formidable weapon, but time was of the essence. She and Seamus didn¡¯t even have time to get any gear on, leaving them in their casual clothes with only bits and pieces of armor from whatever they could get their hands on.

    Seamus had on a chainmail shirt and bracers from his short training session with the guardsmen. He also had a sword on him, already making him more prepared than Dahlia.

    Dahlia herself only wore her gambeson, which she kept on at all times, her dagger being the only form of offense for now. She still had her spells¡ªincluding a few new ones she had learned these past months¡ªbut she had no idea if they would be of any use against whoever had breached the mountain¡¯s security.

    She prayed to Freyja that it wasn¡¯t Malik. The last thing she wanted was to fight that necromancer, especially if he had stolen the eye for himself. Then again, she hoped that it was Malik. If anyone else had managed to get past him and the guards alone, then they were in much bigger trouble.

    ¡°Stop!¡± Seamus called out just as they reached the base of the mountain. Dahlia skidded to a pause, her head swiveling to Seamus. He was standing a few meters behind her, his gaze shifting to the left and right. It was as if he was trying to figure out something. Dahlia looked back at the mountain, her focus on the peak.

    She could still see the smoke that billowed from the passageway but couldn¡¯t make out anything else. The only thing she was sure of was¡ª

    Clang!

    Dahlia was snapped out of her stupor when Seamus swung at something, his sword hitting nothing but air. At least that¡¯s what it looked like. The Shaman watched in shock as Seamus¡¯ sword recoiled back from the thin air, which shimmered in response.

    After a second, someone appeared out of nowhere, their cloak flapping in the breeze and wind as they skidded back from the strike. The stranger held up a long dagger, her single eye wide with surprise as she stared down Seamus.

    ¡°How were you¡­?¡± The person¡¯s response would be cut short when Seamus rushed toward her, his sword moving for another swing. She reacted with another block, her dagger parrying the strike. While surprised, the stranger reacted accordingly and with precision. Seamus¡¯ sword flew back from the counter, his eyes wide with surprise as the stranger rushed to finish him off.

    ¡°Push!¡± Dahlia shouted, her fingers forming the rune. Her spell came in a rush of wind, knocking the attacker back and throwing her a couple meters away. Despite the sudden push, the stranger regained balance in only a second, her left hand quickly flashing right after.

    Dahlia felt her instincts flare with panic when she saw a knife flying towards her.

    The Shaman did her best to dodge, the small knife barely clipping her right arm. As she did so, she failed to notice her opponent closing in on her. Right when it looked like Dahlia was about to get stabbed, Seamus came in with another swing of his sword.

    The young woman seemed to expect this¡ªa bit too fast, if anything¡ªher feet planting themselves on the ground as her body shifted. The sword swing struck her awaiting dagger, emitting a shower of sparks from the contact of both blades.

    ¡°Got you,¡± the woman said as she parried Seamus, her dagger catching his sword¡¯s guard. In a movement that was too fast for Dahlia to make out, the stranger sent the sword flying out of the young man¡¯s hands.

    Seamus was so stunned by the sudden turn of events that he didn¡¯t even have time to react to the sudden follow-up that came right after when the woman¡¯s left fist made contact with the underside of his jaw. He flew back from the hit, eyes rolling back.

    It all happened so fast and suddenly that Dahlia didn¡¯t even have time to take action¡ªuntil now.

    ¡°Flare!¡±

    Dahlia¡¯s spell resulted in a blinding flash of light that engulfed the area. She had practiced enough with this casting that she would usually be able to navigate through the blinding flare without much trouble. The same shouldn¡¯t be said about her opponents. Shouldn¡¯t.

    So Dahlia was more than a little surprised to see her opponent sprint toward her at full speed, her dagger raised for a stab.

    ¡®Shit!¡¯

    Dahlia quickly raised her own dagger in defense, fear engulfing her heart as she expected the stranger to strike lethally. Instead, she was shocked to see the strange woman simply stab at the flare orb, her knife glowing with magical energy as it dispelled it.

    ¡°Windwa¡ª¡±

    Dahlia would not be able to finish her spell. In just a blink of an eye, the stranger had reached her. It was so fast, so sudden. Dahlia didn¡¯t even see her move from her position. Yet now, here was her opponent,  her open hand on the Shaman¡¯s chest.

    ¡°Paralyze.¡±

 B.4 Chapter 18: Naomi (Part 2 of 2)

    James huffed as he hurried through the snow covered forest, his hand on the scabbard that bounced on his hip. He looked up ahead at the awaiting mountain, the billowing smoke pillar now slowly fading away. He could even see how the day waned, the sky slowly turning orange as it indicated the oncoming evening.

    James had hoped to get here faster, but he wanted to make sure he was well prepared. He had put on his new armor and equipped his sword, doing it all in record time. Yet even that wasn¡¯t fast enough for him.

    ¡®I¡­ I really need to work on my stamina,¡¯ James thought as he gulped breath after breath of the frosty air. He had barely made it halfway through the forest that separated the mountain from the rest of town, putting him at least ten minutes away from reaching the mountain entrance. And that¡¯s if he could keep up a consistent pace.

    ¡®Now¡¯s not the time to dwell on hindsight,¡¯ Faust reprimanded. ¡®Just keep moving! Dahlia and the rest are probably there already. Let us hope that they managed to control the situation.¡¯

    James mentally acknowledged the spirit, his speed picking up as he managed to control his breathing. At least he wasn¡¯t wearing a stuffy helmet while running. As much protection it gave him, he was almost thankful that he had forgotten to put it on before his run.

    Just as he was about to pass the Shaman¡¯s hut, James felt it. He stopped his sprint, his boots skidding against the snowy ground.

    ¡®You felt it too?¡¯ James asked Faust.

    ¡®Of course I did. It¡¯s your Alert going off.¡¯

    James furrowed his brow.

    ¡®That¡¯s not just it.¡¯

    James looked all around him, his eyes scanning the tree canopies. His Alert skill had gone off, sure, but it was where it was coming from that bothered him. It didn¡¯t come from one direction. No, it was detecting a threat coming from all sides.

    James felt his eyes heat up, Faust¡¯s spirit flowing into his sight almost on instinct. Then and there, the detail in his vision increased and the darkening forest became much more visible to him. James had this ability for as long as he had Faust. It was useful when it came for him to see through foggy or dark conditions, allowing his sight to pierce through it all the same.

    Yet now it came with an additional benefit. One that had become apparent to him after his ¡®revival¡¯ in Vindis. James could now see traces of magic, their residue almost glowing to him. It was through this ability that James could see traces of what looked to be the spell Shadow Step and another unknown one all around him. He guessed the person using it was currently dashing around him in the canopies, the sound of their movement silent to him.

    ¡°Ice Lance,¡± James chanted, his left hand quickly forming the rune towards a spot in the trees. Blue glyphs appeared in front of his fingertips, their magic quickly summoning a small needle-like lance of ice, its length shooting off into the canopy of one tree. His gamble paid off when a person was nearly hit by the lance, their figure barely managing to avoid it as they changed course.

    ¡°Carapace,¡± James muttered, making sure to activate his buff before things got messy. And messy they got.

    Once the stranger made contact with the ground, they immediately bolted for James. The young Jarl quickly took a step forward, his right hand raising as it formed another rune. As expected, the stranger quickly changed their approach, their feet kicking them off to the left side.

    James almost chuckled at his attempted feint.

    ¡°Instant Reflex,¡± James chanted under his breath, his physical casting making itself present. The world turned slow around him, the stranger¡¯s movements slowed to a crawl. James watched as they rushed toward him, dagger in hand.

    With a slow and methodical motion¡ªas to not overdo himself¡ªJames shifted his hand to his sword¡¯s handle. He unsheathed it, the world around him still in slow motion as he moved to defend himself. His muscles burned with exertion, and his body emitted heat that he was sure could melt snow.

    The reflexes only lasted for two real-world seconds. Four seconds if one were to bolster it. One might think it was way too short for the cost, perhaps even useless. The thing was, one real-world second felt almost like an eternity in Instant Reflex. While James was still new to the casting itself, it didn¡¯t take long for him to figure out how it worked.

    After all, he just imagined he was Neo.

    James¡¯ sword flashed in a glint of steel, the world returning to normal as his arm swung to deflect the dagger strike. There was an audible clang and James could only grin as his attacker was parried.

    Without giving him time to attack, the stranger backed away in a rush, creating distance. It was for naught, as James was still recovering from the sudden outburst of heat that resulted from his Instant Reflex. His body felt like it had gone through a blender as well, soreness making itself apparent in his muscles.

    Still, he didn¡¯t want the other person to know that detail. So he kept his posture, hiding his discomfort and pain behind a smile.

    ¡°Should probably think twice before you try that again,¡± he called out. He hoped he didn¡¯t sound out of breath.

    James flourished his sword a bit before he pointed it toward the stranger. He was well aware that his eyes were still glowing, and he could see its ethereal light reflect off the woman¡¯s knife. He could even see his reflection, displaying him as the ghoulish looking man he looked like whenever he did the eye trick.

    The stainless steel also gave him some hope that his friends were still alive and unharmed. Not much hope since he knew there were countless ways to end one¡¯s life, but it was enough for him to worry much less.

    ¡°Now, who are you? Why are you here?¡± James asked. He almost expected not to get an answer. He instead half-expected this stranger to start throwing knives or running away. Both outcomes would be equally annoying.

    However, the woman before him decided not to do either of those things. She actually stood up straight, her left hand pulling her hood back to reveal her face.

    At first, James was confused. She looked¡­ painfully ordinary. Short auburn hair. Fairly pale skin accompanied by one dark brown eye, her other covered up. Attractive, sure, but James had seen much more interesting people. Even her makeshift eye patch made of bandages didn¡¯t do much to make her unique. It was like she had this aura of¡ª

    He blinked, and the realization hit him like a semi-truck.

    ¡°You¡¯re an Earthling, aren¡¯t you?¡± he asked slowly. This was the same feeling he had felt back when he had fought Arthur. Back when he had seen the fates of the tree. When he saw the two Earthlings in that blossom¡¯s fate. He remembered the names of both of them. How could he ever forget them?

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re James Holter,¡± the other Outlander said almost coldly.

    Naomi Miller looked much different than what James recalled. Then again, he had seen an older version of her. In the vision, she looked like she was in her late thirties, maybe forties, if he were to be critical. Now, however, she looked his age. Younger perhaps. She had already lost her left eye, which meant that she had been in Azura for some time. That was already evident in the way she moved and the castings she used earlier.

    She had been here longer than him. James felt it in the way she looked at him condescendingly. The way her single eye judged and examined him. She was sizing him up.

    James shifted uncomfortably, his body tensing up. Without even realizing it, his feet were already positioning themselves, his sword arm raising defensively. Both Outlanders stared at each other, the air around them taut with tension.

    Before James could even attempt to say anything, Naomi had made the first move. Her boots scraped against the snowy gravel, her right hand flashing forth a sword. James managed to block it in time, his eyes widening at the new weapon that contested with his sword.

    It was a curved blade, its length comparable to a straight sword. The hilt was wrapped in white, and the guard was a black disc, intricate in design. James recognized it almost immediately. It was a katana.

    ¡®How did she manage to pull it out so fast? Then again, where did she pull it from?¡¯

    James could have sworn that Naomi was wielding a smaller knife, one closer to a dagger¡¯s length rather than an entire sword. Before he had any time to even question where she had pulled the katana from, Faust¡¯s voice echoed in his mind.

    ¡®Her left!!¡¯ Faust shouted.

    James quickly glanced to his right, his blood running cold as he saw a formed rune aiming straight for him.

    ¡°Arcane Bolt!¡±

    James dodged the bolt by mere inches, its burning magic grazing against his beard. The smell of singed hair reached his nostrils just as Naomi pulled back her sword. She dashed back from him, her gaze still glued on James as her left hand reached into her cloak, her fingers producing two knives.

    In only a second, both daggers were airborne, their silver edges glinting as they flew at James. He felt Faust force his body to the left, dodging the first one while James raised his sword to deflect the second. His short sword sparked as it made contact with the knife, stopping its flight in time before it could reach him.

    ¡®She¡¯s going to go for a rush right now. Got to use Instant Reflex and¡ª¡¯

    James blinked. Naomi was gone. She had disappeared from the spot where he last saw her, the snow barely disturbed. He didn¡¯t even hear her footsteps across the gravel. Not even a¡ª

    ¡®Behind you!¡¯

    James felt every part of his body tense up at the sound of Faust¡¯s desperate warning. He turned around, the world around him going slow. He could feel his heart drop as he caught sight of Naomi, her crouching form right behind him. Her single eye was wide with focus, her left hand gripping onto the dagger she had just thrown.

    ¡°Instant¨C¡±

    His casting was interrupted when Naomi¡¯s palm struck his chest, her voice calling out to him.

    ¡°Paralyze.¡±

    James felt every one of his muscles start to seize up, his arms and legs going stiff as Naomi¡¯s spell took hold. It was like having pins and needles, his body doing its damndest to resist as it held him in place. For a moment, he thought he was done for. He had lost the fight. Then he felt it. The feeling of warmth that encompassed his chest, its heat comforting and spreading throughout to his arms and legs. James felt control return to his muscles, his voice coming out in a breath.

    ¡°¡ªReflex.¡±

    James could see Naomi¡¯s reaction of utter disbelief as he got his words of power out. The world slowed to a snail¡¯s crawl, his body exploding with more heat as the Physical Casting¡¯s effect took hold. In that second of slow motion, James did what he thought was best. He retreated.

    His legs burned with exertion as they moved him back, kicking up snow and gravel as he retreated away from Naomi¡¯s stunned figure. Once he was a reasonable distance away, he turned off Instant Reflex. James caught his breath then, his lungs taking in as much air as they could. He was doing his damnedest to control his breathing, so as to not hyperventilate. His body was growing hotter than expected, a foreseen drawback to using so many castings in a short time. For most self-respecting spellcasters, three spells in the span of a couple minutes were considered child¡¯s play.

    For James, however, it was a near death sentence. For one, he was wearing layers upon layers of clothing underneath steel armor, his body¡¯s heat trapped underneath it all. Add that with the quick use of Instant Reflex and Carapace, and James was overdue for a heatstroke. He was lucky his recent casting wasn¡¯t enough to cook him inside out.

    He could feel his left arm discharge basic cyromancy on instinct, the frost growing over the left side of his body. That was a skill remnant of his revival in Vindis. James¡¯ arm could now discharge ice and freeze things without much impact to his ley lines. It barely affected him, and it cost him nearly nothing. It wasn¡¯t even enough to warrant the use of his precious reserves.

    ¡°Magic-resistant runes, huh?¡± Naomi¡¯s voice called out to him. ¡°Well hidden at that, too.¡±

    James blinked and glanced at his armor¡¯s breastplate. He could see his armor¡¯s runes burning a bright orange, their magic emanating light and radiating with heat. Nathan¡¯s enchantments had come in as a clutch, saving James from being paralyzed.

    ¡®Thank you, Nathan. I feel like I¡¯m starting to say that more and more as time goes on¡­¡¯

    James took a deep breath as he focused on Naomi, his sword raising once more. His overheating body was slowly cooling down, and his cryomancy was helping in that regard. Yet he was not so eager to use another spell so soon. James felt at his ley lines¡ªa feeling that he couldn¡¯t even begin to describe¡ªand peered into their reserves of mana. He only had enough for one more casting.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡®Damn. Talk about limited options.¡¯

    Even if he wanted to, he couldn¡¯t even cast another spell. Not when his body was still in the stages of recovering from the sudden heat and stress he had put it through. James was in no shape to risk his life. He needed to fend her off until backup arrived.

    ¡®Then again, that¡¯s starting to be less of a possibility.¡¯

    The sun was setting, turning the forest darker by the minute. If this fight was to last any longer, then James was certain none of the other guardsmen would be able to find him. He really only had one course of action. Fight Naomi and hopefully win.

    ¡®Well, there is another option.¡¯

    ¡°Naomi, right?¡± James asked. He decided to resort to diplomacy and hopefully talk this out. Not a sound plan by any means. She had obviously heard of him. Knew his name. He wondered if she knew that he knew about her.

    ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ heard of you before.¡± James had to refrain himself from revealing that he had seen her before. There was no telling how she¡¯d react if he told her that she had been part of an ideal future for him. That sounded way too creepy out of context.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Iendis has told you much already, huh?¡± Naomi asked with a huff, her body language still unchanged. Her katana was held out in front of her, her hands gripping it tightly. ¡°That bitch likes to talk and talk about fate and chaos. I bet she told you I¡¯m her least favorite.¡±

    ¡°Actually, I¡¯ve been told that you¡¯re Thien¡¯s favorite,¡± James admitted with a breath that sounded like a chuckle. He remembered the words Arthur had told him back during their encounter in Vindis.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°When you see Thien, tell him I¡¯ll be coming for his favorite summon.¡±

    ¡°Summon¡­?¡±

    ¡°Naomi Miller.¡±

    </blockquote>

    James recalled the situation, his heart hurting a little at the memory. It was right when he had a brush with death, his body kicked into the black sea. Right before he was forcibly revived.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± Naomi reacted to his words in the same way a woman from Earth would if some homeless man had asked her out to a fun romp in his alleyway tent. Then again, she was a woman from Earth.

    ¡°If it makes you feel any better, I don¡¯t like either Thien or Iendis,¡± James admitted aloud.

    ¡°Yeah, I bet,¡± Naomi sighed, her shoulders relaxing a bit. Just as James thought he made progress, the young woman in front of him rushed forth, her legs kicking her body towards him at great speed. James barely had time to block as her sword contested with his.

    ¡°Talking¡¯s done,¡± Naomi muttered as sparks flew. James tried to hold back the Outlander¡¯s blade, his own sword pushing it back little by little. Just as he was sure to win the contest of blades, Naomi¡¯s boot came in and kicked him in the belly. It surprised him more than it hurt, but it was still enough to send him back in a stumble, almost making him lose his foothold.

    ¡°You¡¯re focusing too much on my katana,¡± Naomi chastised as she swung once more, this time aiming for an upward slash. James didn¡¯t have time to use his sword to block, resulting in Naomi¡¯s blade finally connecting with his front torso.

    The edge of the katana slashed against his breastplate in a shower of magical sparks, the steel by its guard flashing with the glow of runes.

    ¡®It¡¯s enchanted?!¡¯

    James cursed to himself as he was sent back again, his armor¡¯s own runes fizzling out in reaction to Naomi¡¯s attack.

    ¡°The Wizard who put those is quite the engraver,¡± Naomi muttered.

    James whipped his head back to the Outlander, whose sword was raised in a defensive position. Her footwork was different, her hands holding the weapon horizontally in a way that covered the bottom half of her face. He had never seen anyone with that kind of stance. The closest was perhaps Miles, the Chaos Follower, but his fighting style was still different from what Naomi was using.

    James raised his sword in front of him, his eyes focused on her as he tried to think of a plan. A strategy. Anything that could grant him a chance to end this fight.

    ¡®One spell reserve left. Do you have an idea how to use it?¡¯ James asked Faust.

    ¡®Never used any castings when I was alive. Outside of the blessings Caelus granted to me,¡¯ Faust admitted. ¡®Honestly, I feel as if you should have invested your time in learning evasive spells like Fog Cloud or perhaps even Nimble Feet. Instead, you¡¯ve decided on the two most baffling of castings.¡¯

    James almost chuckled at that. The spirit had a point. If he had only put his time into learning appropriate castings, he could have been able to get out of this situation much easier. Then again, he had gotten out of tougher stitches with even lesser options.

    ¡®Desperation is the crutch of innovation.¡¯

    James repeated those words in his head. He didn¡¯t remember where he heard it or if it came from Earth or Azura. He honestly didn¡¯t care, either. He only focused on the remaining options he had in his back pocket.

    ¡®There is one casting Naomi doesn¡¯t know I have.¡¯

    She obviously knew he had Instant Reflex and Ice Lance. Those alone probably clued in her in that he had both Power Strike and Summon Ice. However, James doubted she knew of his much more recent casting.

    James grinned a bit at the thought. At the same time his manic plan materialized in his mind, he could feel Faust¡¯s discomfort.

    ¡®Oh gods.¡¯

    Without acknowledging the spirit, James prepared himself with a deep breath. He took a step forward, his sword rising. Just as he was about to enact his plan, Naomi moved.

    She stepped back, her sword lowering as she whispered something. James didn¡¯t hear any of it, but he guessed what it was as soon as he saw the young woman shift into the shadows.

    ¡®Shadow Step. Fuck.¡¯

    James focused more on his sight, the darkness alleviating even more as his eyes burned with spiritual energy. He couldn¡¯t necessarily use it to spot those using Shadow Step, as the casting literally turned its user into the shadows for a brief moment. Still, James had enough practice with the Thieves Guild to spot anomalies within the environment.

    He held his breath as he looked around, almost expecting to see Naomi¡¯s form among the shadows. Yet there was nothing. Nada. James was completely alone now, not a single thing around him.

    ¡®That¡¯s¡­ impossible, no?¡¯ Faust commented. ¡®Even with some of the more advanced users, we could spot slight movements. Yet there¡¯s nothing.¡¯

    There wasn¡¯t even a rustle of leaves or snow. James could see nothing. Naomi had turned invisible.

    ¡®No. Not invisible.¡¯

    James turned to look up at the canopy of the trees above, certain that the young woman was hidden among the branches.

    Nothing.

    ¡°Impressive control,¡± a voice came from behind James. He immediately swiveled his torso to the source, his sword swinging. His weapon clashed with Naomi¡¯s own, their blades contesting once again.

    ¡°As expected from Iendis¡¯ favorite,¡± Naomi muttered as she held off the attack. ¡°I almost don¡¯t want to kill you.¡±

    ¡°Kill me?!¡± James reacted with a shout that had a little too much fear in it. He quickly backed off from the contest of swords, his left hand raising toward the other Outlander.

    ¡°Ice¡ª¡±

    Naomi quickly raised her katana, her slash strike fast enough to interrupt his casting. James quickly sidestepped the slash, the wind whipping against his face. He positioned himself once more, his left hand raising to form another casting.

    ¡°Ice¡ª¡±

    ¡°Dispel.¡±

    Naomi¡¯s words were followed by a magical response, the rune formed at James¡¯ fingertips, dispelling into the air. He didn¡¯t even have to reform it when she rushed him, her katana¡¯s tip aimed at his torso.

    Luckily for him, he didn¡¯t need to reform it. James shifted in place as Naomi got close enough, his body losing balance almost immediately. He was falling back now, his weight dragging him to the ground. It was enough for him to dodge the attack, which hit nothing but air. He saw as Naomi looked at him with a look of confusion.

    From her perspective, he had just made himself an easier target by dropping to the ground. However, for James, this was the perfect setup.

    In that brief moment of weightlessness, James grinned at her, his body burning through its last reserve as he prepared to cast his spell. He could see how Naomi¡¯s eyes widened in realization, her hands desperately trying to redirect the katana¡¯s strike.

    ¡°Jump.¡±

    James felt his legs burn with excess energy, his feet already positioned. His left hand grabbed Naomi¡¯s cloak, gripping it tightly as his casting took hold. With the angle he was in, the Jump casting rocketed him horizontally. Naomi in hold, James flew back in a flash.

    He prayed his gamble was correct and that he wasn¡¯t about to collide with a tree.

    James felt as the ground flew below him in a rush, his back grazing against rocks and twigs. He shifted his body mid-flight, watching as Naomi attempted to break free from his hold. He wouldn¡¯t give her a chance.

    Using every fiber of his being, James threw Naomi away. The momentum of his Jump carried over into the toss, sending Naomi flying deep into the forest. His muscles burned, and he nearly blacked out from the heat. Yet he kept his composure and stabbed his sword into the dirt below. It resisted at first, but his blade found purchase within the hard soil.

    James felt his body jolt violently against the anchor, his shoulder screaming with pain as he came to a sudden stop. He felt as if his arm was about to rip out of its socket, but it thankfully held. He was now on the ground, his arm radiating pain as he tried to stand.

    ¡®Stupid,¡¯ Faust chastised.

    ¡®Well, it¡¯s the only thing I could think of,¡¯ James admitted. ¡®Not really the best of ideas, but at least the results didn¡¯t disappoint.¡¯

    James turned to the direction of the town, which didn¡¯t seem too far now. If he could just retreat back to its border, he could properly call for backup. Not that it wasn¡¯t coming regardless. The forest was getting darker, and James doubted Felix would be able to find him.

    ¡°Just gotta hurry and¡ª¡±

    ¡°That was some gamble,¡± Naomi called out in a breath. James stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze moving to the source. The other Outlander stood nearby, her figure resting against a nearby tree. She had her arms crossed, her katana nowhere to be seen. Instead, she carried around one of the smaller daggers, the same ones she had been tossing at James.

    ¡°How did you¡­?¡± James could have sworn he had thrown her quite the distance. After all, he had put all his strength into it, using the jump¡¯s momentum to increase his throw. Yet here was Naomi, visibly fine and without any physical damage to her clothes.

    ¡°You¡¯re not what I expected at all,¡± Naomi admitted aloud as she took a few steps closer to James. He immediately raised his weapon in defense, almost expecting another attack.

    ¡°Relax, I¡¯m not gonna try anything.¡±

    ¡°Doubtful,¡± James responded with a chuckle. It was more of a nervous response rather than actual humor, however. In reality, he knew well that he was pretty much at the mercy of this strange Outlander. She had just mentioned she was going to kill him. Not only that, but James was fresh out of castings. He only had his sword and an overheating body. Not even Faust could help in his current state.

    ¡°I mean it,¡± Naomi said. She frowned at James¡¯ reaction. ¡°If you¡¯re talking about the kill comment I made earlier, well, that was more out of intimidation.¡±

    ¡°You seriously expect me to believe that?¡± James asked with a scoff.

    ¡°Not really,¡± Naomi admitted with a shrug.

    ¡°What do you want from me?¡± James pressed. ¡°Why are you here?¡±

    He thought back to his meeting with the last earthling he had encountered. Arthur Clarke had nearly killed him. They barely knew of each other yet their meeting had resulted in a fight to the death, with James nearly losing had it not been for the abomination reviving him.

    Needless to say, James didn¡¯t have a good track record with meeting fellow earthlings.

    ¡°I suppose it¡¯s only fair to answer that. However, let me ask you something first. Do you know anything about this?¡± Naomi put her dagger away, her hand depositing it into her cloak. She then brought out a small glass cylinder in return. James could see that it was filled with a black substance that swirled around a singular eye. An eye that bore a glowing four-pointed star.

    ¡°How did you¡­?¡± James started. He stopped himself.

    ¡°Beholder eye. Nasty thing,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Said to corrupt those who hold it. I wonder why you have it?¡±

    James could hear the accusation in her voice, the young woman staring at James with a look of clear distrust. It was clear to him that this looked bad.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ not what it looks like,¡± James said.

    ¡°I suppose you were just keeping it as a keepsake? A trophy?¡± Naomi asked. ¡°Or perhaps you wanted its power for yourself?¡±

    ¡°Of course not,¡± James responded quickly, his words nearly coming out in a shout. ¡°There was an incident involving the person who had that eye. I wanted to look into it to figure out where it came from. That¡¯s it!¡±

    ¡°Why is that?¡± Naomi stepped a little closer, her hand still holding onto the vial. ¡°Why do you want to figure out its origin?¡±

    ¡°Because I don¡¯t want any more of my friends to get hurt,¡± James admitted without hesitation. ¡°If it means protecting my clan and my people, then of course I¡¯m going to do what I can to prevent them from getting hurt.¡±

    Naomi faltered at that, her brow furrowing as she looked at James. There was a moment of silence between the two, both sides adamantly standing their ground.

    Finally, after what seemed like a minute, Naomi laughed. Heartily. The young woman was chuckling and giggling, her arm raising to cover her mouth. James could only stare in stunned silence, his eyebrow raising as he watched the other Earthling giggle to themselves.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± James muttered.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t expect you to,¡± Naomi chuckled, her laugh dying in between breaths. After a couple seconds, it faded away entirely. What was left was a small smile and a glint of sadness that James could swear he could sense beyond it.

    ¡°You just happened to remind me of someone,¡± Naomi sighed. She looked off at the darkening sky, her posture relaxing. ¡°It¡¯s clear to me you haven¡¯t been in this world for long.¡±

    She turned to the young Jarl, her brow furrowing as she took a step forward. Before James could ask what it was she was talking about, she tossed him the glass vial of murky darkness. He fumbled to catch it, his sword dropping as he did his best not to let the vial slip his fingers.

    Once in his grip, James examined the glass cylinder. He felt his heart drop when he saw that the eye was gone.

    ¡®She must¡¯ve¡ª¡¯

    ¡°James,¡± Naomi¡¯s voice caught him off guard. He turned his head up to see the other Outlander farther away from him, her fingers holding up an orb. He soon recognized it as the beholder''s eye that was once contained.

    ¡°You¡¯re a good person. Even I can see that,¡± Naomi said. ¡°Don¡¯t let these people change that part about you. Don¡¯t let them beat you down.¡±

    ¡°What are you¡­?¡±

    ¡°I hope we don¡¯t see each other again. At least, not like this.¡±

    With that, she dropped the eye to the ground. Without hesitation, Naomi stomped on it.

    ¡°Wait¡ª¡± James was interrupted with a bright flash, the Beholder Eye¡¯s destruction emitting a small wave of magic. He stumbled back from it, his eyes shutting tightly. Once he regained his vision, James could see that Naomi was gone.

    The only thing left was a small smoldering stain on the ground.

 B.4 Chapter 19: Farengard

    There was a silent peace permeating the town of Farengard; its docks were naturally void of any activity, and its denizens were fast asleep. Night time had come for the island early, as it always had during the Frost season. Not even the sister moons pierced through the clouds that covered the entirety of the sky, leaving everything engulfed in darkness. Everything, including the lanterns at the docks. Despite the darkness, this town¡¯s people feared leaving lanterns on outside their homes.

    It was a fear born out of a time of war years back. Back when barbarians ruled the waters of the south and raided everything that they came across. Island towns like Farengard were usually the target of such raids, their towns lighting up like beacons in Valenfrost¡¯s pitch black nights. Farengard¡¯s people were, of course, smart enough to extinguish all outside light in an effort to hide themselves during the night, to avoid roaming barbarians who were in search of settlements to pillage.

    Of course, the practice never really stopped, even after the end of the Outsider Wars. Even after the town¡¯s acquisition by Villtur, the Boar Clan. Even after they were forced to place lanterns on the docks to signal incoming ships.

    It was almost like a tradition for the people. To keep hidden. Even their hearths were kept at a low light despite the bitter cold. Farengard¡¯s people would rather endure the Frost than light their homes like beacons. Bad habits did indeed die hard.

    It was because of this practice that Eilif had nearly missed the island entirely. He leaned against the bow of the rowboat he had taken from the ship he and Kira had just evacuated from. The old ship, while useful, was a liability more than anything. It also held the remnants of the massacre he had committed earlier that morning. Or was it already the next day? Eilif wouldn¡¯t know. Hel, he didn¡¯t really care much.

    ¡°Wish we didn¡¯t have to burn that ship down,¡± Kira murmured with exhaustion, her body huddling at the boat¡¯s rear. She had herself wrapped up in a pelt she had snatched from the cargo hold, its fur a dark color. It looked like it came from a wolfhound.

    ¡°Necessary,¡± Eilif said. ¡°We can¡¯t steer and handle a brig that size with only the two of us. Hel, I doubt you¡¯d even bother helping.¡±

    Kira chuckled at that, her hands raised in defeat. ¡°Fair. You have a point.¡±

    She looked over at the distant island, her eyebrow raising at the liminal light that emanated from the docks. ¡°Is this the place?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Eilif confirmed with a grunt. ¡°We¡¯ll meet him here.¡±

    ¡°Is this even his territory?¡± Kira asked.

    ¡°Does it matter?¡± Eilif muttered, his head tilting toward her. ¡°Clean slate, remember?¡±

    Kira grinned at that, her eyes glinting with an almost lustful pleasure. ¡°Oh, I see. Clean slate.¡±

    Eilif turned back to the town, his hand gripping onto the dagger he always wielded. It was a wide blade with a strange circular guard that formed into a horizontal handle, the design obviously foreign. It had been made centuries back by an Arenian arms dealer, and its purpose was made clear when its blade opened into three separate points. It was an assassin¡¯s weapon, designed to break swords and create unmendable wounds.

    While he was sure he wouldn¡¯t come across any sword wielders tonight, he was still inclined to use the weapon. There was a sentimental attachment to it, one that Eilif couldn¡¯t explain.

    ¡°Let us get to work,¡± the immortal man said as he picked up an oar, his hands pushing the rowboat closer to the island.

    Tonight would be good practice.

    <hr>

    Ellis groaned as he awoke, his body shifting as he tried to sit upright in his bed. He wasn¡¯t sure what it was that woke him up, but he had a sneaking suspicion.

    ¡°I swear if it¡¯s that fucking fox¡­¡± Ellis muttered as he rubbed his eyes. He looked around his home, his small bed tucked near the wall. While small, his humble home was all the farmer needed. He had no family outside of his brother, who lived across the island of Farengard.

    Farengard wasn¡¯t much like other settlements. The town here was solely used as a passing point for merchants and travelers; the people who lived there made their living by trading fish and lumber from the forest. Some had trades and jobs that were useful enough to make a decent coin. Others simply took what they could get, accepting shite contracts from passing crews for a livable wage.

    Ellis himself was a farmer that was more or less secluded from most of the island¡¯s inhabitants, his focus mostly on the grain he grew during the Bloom and the livestock he cared for year round. He found more comfort in the isolation, accompanied by his piece of land and his coops of chickens.

    Which was why Ellis was particularly annoyed at this very moment. He had been having a fox problem this past week, and his chickens were all disappearing one by one. While he had never seen the damned creature, he had found remnants of its feeding. Bloodied feathers and broken bones were all that were left of missing chickens.

    He had planned to hunt it the next morning with his brother¡ªa fellow who lived in the town with his own family¡ªand finally put an end to its feeding. However, Ellis was awakened tonight by something moving outside, and he would be damned if that fucking fox killed any more of his livestock.

    The overweight farmer groaned as he stepped out of bed, his calloused hands reaching for something to cover his body and hopefully protect him from the bite of frost. He ended up draping a thick woolen cloak over him, his spare hand grabbing a nearby stave. While wooden and blunt, it would serve as his weapon.

    Ellis was still a farmer, his arms thick and his strength more than enough to kill a fox, stave or no stave. He stumbled a bit as he tried to shake the grogginess, his feet guiding him to the door. Ellis stepped out into the freezing night, his body shivering as he walked around.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡®Delphine¡¯s tits, what are the use of the Gods if they can¡¯t even protect an honest man¡¯s living?¡¯

    He would soon arrive at the chicken¡¯s coop, his eyes squinting through the low light of the night. Despite the darkness, Ellis¡¯ eyes could still see the coop clearly. His chickens all fluttered and grouped up around the gate, bawking and pecking at the cold dirt. They seemed just fine.

    Ellis raised a confused eyebrow at the sight of his chickens. It wasn¡¯t that they were alive and awake this late in the night. They always came to greet Ellis whenever he came by since he was the only one who fed them. No, the confusion came from the fact that he was able to see them clearly despite none of the sister moons shining in the night sky.

    The farmer turned around, his eyes squinting as he tried to find the source of luminance. He stopped when he saw a distant glow in the horizon, its warmth felt from where he stood. For a second, Ellis assumed he was looking at the sun. That was until he realized that the source of the light was coming from the west, where the town lay.

    It was fire.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Ellis cursed out loud as he hobbled back to his shack, the cold night no longer affecting him. He had to hurry to put on the rest of his clothes and get his boots on. He had little time to act.

    ¡®Is it a natural fire? Is it a raid?¡¯

    None of those sounded good to Ellis. Hel, a fire rarely ever did. All he knew was that his only family was in trouble. While he never had a good relationship with his brother, they were still blood and the last of their family name. Ellis would be damned if he was the last one left.

    The farmer burst into his home, his eyes searching for the trunk that held his clothes. He was halfway across the room when he noticed her.

    A woman sat on his bed, her legs crossed over each other as she leaned back on both her arms. She watched Ellis with a gaze that would¡¯ve fitted a regal lady from Lumen. Yet her eyes were the complete opposite of dainty. They glowed a soft purple, the pupils shaped like stars.

    Ellis didn¡¯t know what it was about them that terrified him. He just knew that this was a situation that called for him to run away as fast as he could. His muscles tensed with the power of adrenaline, his lungs breathing in as much air as they could take. He tried to turn to leave.

    ¡°Move, and I¡¯ll take your head off,¡± the woman called out, her words stopping Ellis in his tracks. Despite every fiber of his being screaming at him to run, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to. It was like he knew deep inside that he was never going to make it out the door.

    ¡°I want to ask you something,¡± the stranger asked, her feet kicking in the air as she laid back on the bed. Her hands moved to the back of her head, her gaze still on Ellis as she relaxed.

    ¡°What¡­ What do you want?¡± Was all Ellis could muster out of him.

    ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯m having a bit of a problem with something,¡± she started with a sigh, her eyes moving up to the ceiling. Despite taking her sights off the farmer, Ellis still refused to move. He had no idea why he felt intimidated, but he knew better than to try and piss this person off.

    ¡°What is it you want help with?¡± Ellis forced himself to ask. He could feel how his knees buckled with fear, his body shivering despite no cold breeze apparent.

    ¡°There¡¯s this¡­ boy I like,¡± she continued, her feet still kicking the air aimlessly. ¡°I¡¯ve been having these feelings for him for quite some time and¡­¡±

    She looked away from Ellis, yet he could clearly see she was blushing.

    ¡®What is this? What the fuck am I doing standing here listening to this ridiculous girl!¡¯

    Ellis felt scared, angry, and, most of all, confused. All of it muddled together into this mix of emotions that not even he could decipher. The only coherent conclusion he could come up to was one thing.

    She was crazy.

    ¡°Are you even listening?¡± the woman asked, her eyebrow raising as she sat up. Ellis tensed up at her stare, his hand gripping tightly on the stave he was holding. He swallowed nervously, his mind racing with possible responses that could save him.

    Yet when the farmer met those cold purple eyes, the hope for living had all but dissipated. There was no right answer. Ellis gritted his teeth.

    ¡®If I¡¯m going to die anyways, I¡¯d rather not go out groveling for some stranger like her!¡¯

    With a roar born more out of fear and adrenaline, Ellis charged the young woman. He was bigger than her, stronger. The farmer¡¯s skin alone was like leather, his thick fat more than enough to survive whatever bladed weapon or magic this woman had. Not to mention his stave. Hel, Ellis had killed bears with it before. He had crushed the skulls of bandits that once threatened his livelihood. Had it not been for his farm, he would have easily become one of the Villtur clan¡¯s strongest soldiers.

    With those facts in mind, Ellis¡¯ fear had waned. He had forgotten why he felt so threatened in the first place. Stave held high, the farmer brought it down on the woman before him, her expression more out of annoyance rather than anger.

    There was no contact. Ellis couldn¡¯t even process what had happened after he swung. The next he knew, he was on the ground next to his broken stave. It was sliced clean in half, the wooden pole rolling around aimlessly as a dark mass pooled around the half naked farmer.

    Ellis choked on blood, his mouth filling with a metallic taste that sickened him. He groggily stood back up, his bare chest covered in scarlet red that almost seemed black in the dim light. His throat was cut, but he wasn¡¯t dead. Not yet.

    ¡°Durable, aren¡¯t you?¡± the woman asked. She was standing up now, a wide smile on her face as she watched Ellis stumble around. She had no blade, her hands instead brushing the hair out of her eyes.

    ¡°M¡­Mercy¡­¡± Ellis croaked as he tried to back off. He lost his footing and fell back against a wall, his lumbering body taking down a shelf of bottles. Broken glass pricked at his back and feet as he slid to the floor. He tried to take a breath, but the blood in his throat made it nigh impossible. He could only manage gurgles.

    ¡°Just like the rest, not a single answer,¡± the strange woman sighed. ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s what I get for asking a man this kind of question. Maybe the town has a girl or two who could understand my situation. That is if Eilif hasn¡¯t finished clearing them out.¡±

    She looked down at the dying man, her eyes glinting with maliciousness. ¡°Oh well. Time to put you out of your misery. No need to let a dying animal suffer.¡±

    Ellis raised a protesting hand, his voice coming out in gargling coughs as he tried to plead. No words came out. There was a sharp, hot line of pain that flashed across his chest, sending specks of blood flying. The wound went deep, reaching bone with ease. Ellis let out a scream of pain, but he only managed a pathetic shout that was barely audible.

    More sharp pains, all of them like slashing daggers. They cut into his belly, his arms, face. Hands were lopped off, bones were broken, and his insides spilled into the open. All the while, the strange woman watched with a psychotic gaze, her right hand raised as Ellis was minced into pieces.

    Even when his sight was eventually taken, Ellis took a long time to die. When the cold darkness finally came for him, he welcomed it.

 B.4 Chapter 20: Meeting

    James looked up at the ceiling of the longhouse, watching as the firepit¡¯s smoke seeped through the small openings. Beyond it, he could see the grayish clouds that blanketed the skies of Valenfrost, filtering the sunlight into a depressing ambiance.

    ¡°You¡¯re a good man. Even I can see that.¡±

    He thought about what Naomi had said to him yesterday, her words repeating constantly in his mind.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let this world change that part of you.¡±

    ¡°James?¡± a voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

    James turned to see Dahlia sitting right next to him at the long table, accompanied by his allies¡ªat least, the allies who were currently around to attend. Dahlia, Seamus, Helen, Felix, and even Malik were here, their gazes all on him.

    Haggard, Nora, and Falrick were currently off-island, dealing with other aspects of the clan. They couldn¡¯t make it for obvious reasons.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± James asked almost dumbly.

    ¡°We were asking you if you remembered anything important about the encounter with the attacker,¡± Helen said.

    James shifted in his seat and lounged a bit, his eyes looking over at everyone. He had refrained himself from saying anything about the encounter, especially since most of his knowledge about Naomi stemmed from the visions at the Tree of Fate. Due to Iendis¡¯ magic, he wouldn¡¯t be able to say anything about those visions, including information he learned from them.

    He was certain that the same went for naming Naomi as an outlander. Still, he knew the others here had seen her. They no doubt felt the aura she emitted. The same one he exuded all the time. Yet he wasn¡¯t sure if they had connected the dots yet.

    ¡®Well, here goes nothing.¡¯

    ¡°She¡¯s an Outlander,¡± James said bluntly. He almost prepared himself to feel his throat go dry like cotton, his chest to be squeezed like Thien himself was doing the deed. Yet nothing happened. Instead, James¡¯ friends were all hit with a wave of surprise. Even Malik seemed caught off guard.

    ¡°That explains a lot,¡± Helen grumbled as she leaned back into her chair. ¡°I knew there was something off about her.¡±

    ¡°An Outlander¡­¡± Dahlia said. She blinked. ¡°Like the apostle that tried to kill you?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, in a way,¡± James murmured. ¡°She was summoned here not unlike me. Probably a few years back, if I were to guess. Then again, it¡¯s possible she¡¯s been here longer.¡±

    ¡°Did you know her?¡± Seamus asked. ¡°Is there a chance that you two are connected somehow?¡±

    ¡°Better question,¡± Malik started. ¡°Why did she bother to destroy the Beholder Eye?! What was it that drove her to do something so unbelievably stupid!¡±

    James raised his hands to quiet down the necromancer¡¯s spat. Once Malik calmed himself, the young Jarl proceeded.

    ¡°I suppose she destroyed the eye because she knew how dangerous it was. Maybe she knows more about the thing than any of us. Nao¡ª¡± James stopped mid-sentence, his mouth instantly going dry. He could feel how something gripped at his heart, like a metaphorical hand. It caressed his beating organ, almost sensual-like.

    You know better, my dear Draugr.

    A voice called out to him. The source of it was unknown. It wasn¡¯t in his head, nor in the real world. It was almost¡­ ethereal. Like it was coming from beyond this plane of existence.

    James closed his mouth and forced himself to stop shivering. After a second of this, the feeling went away.

    ¡°James?¡± Helen called out.

    The Jarl looked towards the veteran, who looked at him almost expectantly. The same went for the rest of the table. They didn¡¯t notice his small interaction with whatever magic the Demigoddess was using on him. James wasn¡¯t sure how it worked, whether it was in real-time or if Iendis had placed precautions on him.

    All he knew was that whenever he tried to talk about his experiences at the Tree of Fate, something would prevent him from doing so. Every time it happened, he heard Iendis¡¯ voice scolding him¡ªalmost playfully¡ªlike he was a childish troublemaker.

    Nothing he had learned at the Tree could be told to his friends. To anyone, that is. Not even the name of the Outlander.

    ¡®I suppose that¡¯s still off-limits. Makes sense, I guess. She never outright told me her name.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± James muttered in response to the rest of the table. ¡°Just need some water.¡±

    ¡®You know, come to think about it, I could talk about Iendis and Thien with Naomi. I was even able to call her by her real name without consequence.¡¯

    While James didn¡¯t detail his experience at the tree, he was still surprised that he was able to mention it to the other Outlander. Not just that, but she had responded to the comments like it was a normal conversation. As normal as these conversations could get.

    Maybe she, too, had been to the Tree of Fate. She seemed to know Iendis and Thien with a familiarity similar to James. It was clear to him that she had dealt with their shit far longer than he had. James found himself thinking about the other earthling constantly, countless questions appearing in his head. He wanted to learn more about her and how she had survived these past years. How she was able to find and recognize him.

    ¡®Did you forget that half of Valenfrost knows who you are already?¡¯ Faust asked.

    ¡®Good point,¡¯ James responded mentally. He was getting carried away in his thoughts again. He needed to focus on the matter at hand.

    ¡°In any case, she¡¯s gone. I know our forces are scouring the island¡ªcourtesy of Helen and Felix¡ªbut I doubt the Outlander is still around. If I were her, I¡¯d get far away from here,¡± James said. He watched as the table¡¯s reactions mixed and changed, their expressions varying from thoughtful agreement to shaking heads.

    ¡°We¡¯re still going to make sure she¡¯s not lurking about,¡± Helen said. She looked at James with a determined look. ¡°I don¡¯t care if she¡¯s an Earthling like you. She¡¯s dangerous and unpredictable. Hell, I¡¯m surprised you managed to hold her off for as long as you did.¡±

    James recalled the states his allies were in when he had found them that day. Both Helen and Dahlia were promptly paralyzed by binding spells. Seamus was knocked out cold, and Malik was nearly killed when Naomi managed to trip him off the cliff. He had only survived by activating one of his advanced spells.

    All of this told him that the other Outlander was more than capable of killing him. And yet she didn¡¯t. She had instead destroyed the Beholder Eye before disappearing into thin air. Speaking of which¡­

    ¡°Malik, did you manage to learn anything about the Beholder Eye?¡± James asked, changing the topic. ¡°Before it was destroyed, of course.¡±

    The necromancer waved an uninterested hand at the question. ¡°Nothing important. Nothing that we haven¡¯t already learned that is.¡± Malik scowled. ¡°Honestly, as much as I would have liked to complain and curse the other Outlander, she did me a favor by destroying the damned thing. I was going mad from boredom.¡±

    ¡°Nothing useful?¡± Dahlia asked. ¡°I would expect for us to learn something substantial from something so¡­ hm. Divine, I suppose, isn¡¯t the right word.¡±

    ¡°Cursed. Hellish. Evil,¡± Malik responded as he leaned back in his chair. ¡°There¡¯s only so much one can learn from observation alone. I would have dissected it, but judging from what James and Seamus have told me, it would have resulted in the damned thing exploding. I could have probably implanted it, but I¡¯d sooner drink rat piss than risk losing myself to such a dreaded artifact.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± James asked, surprised at the necromancer¡¯s words. ¡°Not even in the pursuit of knowledge?¡±

    ¡°Beholder Eyes have killed much stronger and more ambitious men than I,¡± Malik explained with a scowl. ¡°More have succumbed to the dark magic it emits as well, the eye¡¯s powers enslaving those who are lucky enough to survive the initial implant. By then, the Eye is more in control than the user.¡±

    ¡°Do you think Eli was under such control?¡± Seamus asked, almost whispering the question.

    ¡°I doubt it. If he was, he wouldn¡¯t be working for Deimos,¡± Malik said. ¡°Eli was an anomaly, I suppose. Either he was able to find a way to implant two of the eyes into his body, or perhaps he had pacted with a Beholder. Either one seems impossible.¡±

    James recalled what Dahlia had told him about Beholders. Dangerous demons that were supposedly responsible for the Mad King¡¯s descent. So dangerous, in fact, that all tomes relating to them were supposedly burnt, and all those who worshiped the demons were put to the sword. It was a stigma that continued to the present day. Even Malik didn¡¯t like Beholders, despite his fascination with their powers.

    ¡°Helen,¡± James turned to the veteran, who perked up at the sound of her name. ¡°You were with the marauders for quite some time. Can you tell us anything about Eli? Anything you haven¡¯t mentioned before?¡±

    Helen pondered for a bit before she answered. ¡°Eli kept mostly to Deimos¡¯ inner circle. I had a few interactions with him, all of them unnerving, honestly. He could ¡®see¡¯ despite the blindfold he wore. He knew where everyone was, friend and foe, and we used his scrying to raid islands efficiently. I always attributed those things to his raven familiar. Now, with everything that has happened, it all makes sense.¡±

    ¡°Was he¡­ normal?¡± James asked. He wasn¡¯t really sure how to phrase it. There was no such thing as normal in Azura. At least, not in this part of the world. ¡°Or maybe, different in a way that even Deimos could find strange?¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not sure how to answer that,¡± Helen admitted. ¡°Eli had been with the marauders far longer than I have. From what I¡¯ve learned during my time there, he had been a part of them since he was a kid. Judging from how Deimos and his inner circle had treated him, they more or less saw him as an equal.¡±

    ¡°You think they knew about his eyes?¡± Seamus asked.

    ¡°I suppose it could explain how Deimos was able to successfully lead a raid against Yorn. It also confirms Falrick¡¯s account of what happened that night,¡± Helen muttered.

    ¡°When he said he saw a Beholder,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°I never really connected the two until now.¡±

    ¡°Still,¡± James started. ¡°Do you think Deimos has access to another Beholder user?¡±

    ¡°I highly doubt it,¡± Malik said with a chuckle. ¡°One Beholder Eye¡ªisolated, mind you¡ªis already impossible to attain. A user who cannot be tempted by its dark magic? Unthinkable. It¡¯s clear that Eli was his most valuable piece.¡±

    ¡°Yet,¡± Seamus muttered. ¡°Eli had no protection during Midsommar. Even Deimos wouldn¡¯t be so irrational to leave someone so important to himself. Beholder Eye or not.¡±

    ¡°Are you saying he has another user in his inner circle?¡± Dahlia asked, her face pale with the idea.

    ¡°Maybe so,¡± James said, his gaze on the firepit. ¡°Or, maybe he has another ace up his sleeve. Another piece that¡¯s much more vital than Eli. Then again, it could be possible that Deimos had overestimated Eli¡¯s abilities.¡±

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    James recalled the moment when Deimos had learned of Eli¡¯s demise. To say he was upset was a severe understatement. His anger and disbelief had been clear to James, even if he was reserved with his emotions.

    ¡°The fact of the matter is that we don¡¯t know,¡± James continued. ¡°We have too little information. As much as we¡¯ve grown, our knowledge about our enemies is close to nil. It¡¯s all uncertain and unpredictable. We need to learn more about what¡¯s going on. More about potential threats.¡±

    ¡°Like Deimos or the Lumen Kingdom,¡± Helen vocally agreed. ¡°And the other clans that we haven¡¯t allied with.¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡± James nodded. ¡°Which brings me to another issue we need to discuss. Jarl Ivan Falk has asked for a parley.¡±

    The entire room went stiff at that. The ones who knew about the forsaken Jarl paled at the realization of what James had said. They all looked at him, their expressions all mixed. Seamus looked terrified, his eyes wide and face pale. Helen looked angry, her brow furrowed and her scowl apparent. Dahlia had a mix of worry and anger, her jaw clenched as her eyes stared at James.

    ¡°You¡¯re not really going to entertain his proposal, are you?¡± Dahlia asked first. ¡°We¡¯re not exactly on good terms.¡±

    ¡°He killed good men during the raid last year,¡± Felix said, finally breaking the silence. ¡°On top of that, he helped those Lumen bastards.¡±

    ¡°I know that,¡± James responded with a sigh. ¡°He¡¯s not a good person. Nor a good Jarl. Which is why I think it¡¯s probably best to do this.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± Seamus asked finally. ¡°What head damage have you sustained that made you believe it¡¯s a good idea to parley with such a man? Not even the other clans trust him.¡±

    ¡°No one should trust him,¡± Dahlia agreed.

    ¡°Bastard shouldn¡¯t even be considered,¡± Helen added.

    The room slowly devolved into more arguments, their words unintelligible as they all spoke over each other. James raised a hand in an attempt to quiet down the table. It luckily succeeded, leaving James to fester in silence. After a moment, he took a deep breath.

    ¡°I get it. I know we¡¯re all against the idea of even considering his proposal,¡± James said. ¡°But, I made a promise to myself and the council that I wanted to unite the south. I hadn¡¯t forgotten about that.¡±

    ¡°There are other ways,¡± Felix said.

    ¡°Ways that are just gonna devolve into more conflict,¡± James argued. ¡°Aren¡¯t you guys sick of it? The infighting? The bloodshed? We already have the Lumen Kingdom breathing down the neck of Valenfrost, and the clans are still bickering and isolating each other. If it hadn¡¯t been for me, a good portion of those clans would still be fighting and arguing with each other. If this keeps up, we¡¯re only going to make ourselves a bigger target.¡±

    ¡°James,¡± Helen sighed. ¡°I know it¡¯s hard to forget, but this isn¡¯t your world. Diplomacy can only go so far. Fighting is pretty much the only thing that can guarantee change.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that,¡± James muttered. ¡°I¡¯m tired of that mentality. That killing and raiding is the only route we can take. That peaceful resolution is far out of our reach. We¡¯re not marauders. We don¡¯t have to adhere to their standards.¡±

    There was another air of silence, all members of the table looking at each other with different looks.

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right in some regard,¡± Seamus said finally. ¡°Rejecting a parley, even from Jarl Falk, could have consequences.¡±

    James nodded. ¡°The fact that he¡¯d extended one to us means one thing. He¡¯s desperate for allies. We could use that, have him pact with me not unlike the other Jarls.¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t like this,¡± Helen growled. ¡°Desperate men are volatile. Put someone like him in a corner, and well¡­ things can get ugly.¡±

    ¡°I still say we kill him and get it over with,¡± Felix added. ¡°If what I hear is true, then his own clan is on the verge of falling. Taking him out can give us ease to take whatever territory he holds, uniting the south.¡±

    ¡°I just said I don¡¯t want to resort to killing anyone,¡± James reiterated. ¡°Taking someone¡¯s life shouldn¡¯t be our first option.¡±

    ¡°Quite hypocritical of you,¡± Malik said. ¡°You¡¯ve killed men before.¡±

    ¡°We all have,¡± Seamus said suddenly. That was enough to bring the room to a collective pause. ¡°All of us here have killed men before.¡±

    He didn¡¯t phrase it like an argument. Nor did he say it in a way that antagonized James. It sounded solemn and almost wistful. Like the damage had already been done.

    James had killed before. He had fought and ended the lives of other men who had opposed him. Orcs included. And it all haunted him. He saw their faces in his dreams, in his memories. James still remembered the screams of Gryff, the cryomancer¡¯s cries of pain filling his daunting nightmares. He recalled the second man he had killed, the one back at the docks of Vindis. He remembered the spattering dark blood and the gurgling sound he had made.

    Hell, James was still disturbed by the killing of Blood-Ohm not even two days ago. Even if he was a murderous monster, the orc¡¯s death was still on his mind. Just the memory of his lifeless corpse hitting the mud was enough to give James chills.

    James only killed when he needed to or when he had no choice. Despite what had happened, he never intended to kill either Gryff or Arthur. All those situations usually forced his hand under the same circumstance, kill or be killed.

    It still didn¡¯t mean he preferred it. He didn¡¯t want to end anyone¡¯s life. It was something that he tried to avoid despite the events that had transpired this past year. Perhaps his aversion to it all was because he had a glimpse of what death was. Through experience and the alternate futures he had experienced back at the Tree of Fate.

    ¡®Rinse and repeat.¡¯

    James involuntarily shivered at the recollection. He could still remember the sight of his corpses, all of them mutilated and rotted. All of them killed by fates that never transpired.

    The act of ending one¡¯s life carried a weight that reminded James of what he had seen.

    ¡®Then again, the men I killed probably didn¡¯t deserve it. People following orders, not unlike Helen. Ivan is different. He has tried to hurt me and my friends. Killing him is justified.¡¯

    James shook his head at that. He didn¡¯t want to fall into that line of thinking. Just because one death was justified didn¡¯t mean that it would make things better. What would happen if he came across another Jarl who wronged him out of fear for his clan, his motive not unlike James?

    ¡®If I start solving my problems by cutting heads, soon all heads will start to look like problems.¡¯

    He needed to be a better man. To be a Jarl that wouldn¡¯t succumb to the same violent thinking as the rest of the clans.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to lie to you guys,¡± James started. ¡°I don¡¯t like Ivan either. I¡¯d much rather deal with another wave of marauding orcs than to even consider talking to him. Still, a Jarl¡¯s duty is to his people. To his clan. To further our growth and expand our reach, we must be able to make alliances in the south and ensure our future. Ivan is no exception, and I will do what I can diplomatically before even considering killing him. I¡¯m not going to be another Deimos. I am not going to force my way into uniting the south.¡±

    He knew he was contradicting himself. He had forced the clans that owned Vindis into an alliance with him despite good intentions. James knew he was being a hypocrite.

    ¡°I won¡¯t stop you,¡± Felix sighed. ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s your clan and your choice. You¡¯re also incredibly lucky, so I suppose it won¡¯t hurt.¡±

    ¡°I agree with Felix,¡± Helen said. ¡°This is your choice. None of us can really stop you. And to be fair, it¡¯s not a bad idea. That¡¯s not to say I won¡¯t carelessly let you go alone.¡±

    Dahlia nodded. ¡°I¡¯m with Helen on this. If you truly want to meet with Ivan on parley, you¡¯re going to need at least a formed squadron to accompany you.¡±

    ¡°Like I was going to go by myself?¡± James asked jokingly. ¡°I¡¯ve already been thinking about taking some orcs to go meet with Ivan.¡±

    ¡°You should take others with you, just to make sure,¡± Helen said.

    ¡°I suppose it won¡¯t hurt if I come along?¡± Malik asked. ¡°As boring as politics are, you are going to pact with Ivan?¡±

    James nodded to the necromancer. ¡°That would be ideal, but if it turns out well enough, I doubt we¡¯ll need to.¡±

    ¡°Malik¡¯s coming with you,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°Regardless if it goes well. Pact magic, as dark as it is, guarantees Ivan will stay in line. I don¡¯t want to deal with any backstabbing.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± James conceded. ¡°Tomorrow, I¡¯ll send a messenger to Brant and Finn. Let them know that I¡¯ll agree to Jarl Ivan¡¯s parley.¡±

    ¡°With conditions,¡± Helen spoke up. ¡°You don¡¯t want him to come with an entire armada of his ships. Or with too many people. Of course, we would have to follow these conditions as well.¡±

    James nodded. ¡°Of course. We¡¯ll write something up later.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Helen let out a breath. ¡°Now, I suppose we should all stay on high alert tonight. Patrols will be doubled, and Malik will be watching over the island with his crystal ball.¡±

    Malik raised an eyebrow. ¡°I never agreed to that.¡±

    ¡°You agreed to protect James and his allies, correct?¡± Helen asked. ¡°Well, this counts. There¡¯s an Outlander on the loose, and she¡¯s highly dangerous. Rather we don¡¯t take chances tonight, so do your job and watch over, will ya?¡±

    ¡°Fine, I suppose,¡± Malik growled. ¡°Not like I have anything better to do.¡±

    Helen nodded to that. ¡°Good. Now, James, we¡¯ll need to train for the next couple weeks leading up to the parley.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± James asked in surprise. He could also see Seamus perk up in his chair, the young man looking more than a little nervous.

    ¡°It has become clear to me that you three,¡± Helen pointed at James, Dahlia, and Seamus. ¡°Are in serious need of relearning.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± James raised an eyebrow. ¡°We literally just took over an orc outpost a couple days back.¡±

    ¡°I also train when I can,¡± Seamus added with confusion. ¡°The basics aren¡¯t very new to me.¡±

    Dahlia was the only one who didn¡¯t complain. Instead, she gave Helen a look that James could interpret as ¡®Should you tell them or should I?¡¯

    ¡°You two don¡¯t understand what I mean by the relearning,¡± Helen sighed. ¡°I know you all know the basics. In fact, I think you three have exceeded nearly all of the guardsmen in terms of skill. Especially Seamus. However, it¡¯s clear that you all are very much¡­ what¡¯s the Earth term? Ah yes, rusty.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m running a clan here, Helen,¡± James refuted. ¡°Time hasn¡¯t exactly been on my side.¡±

    ¡°That was true in the first half of the year,¡± Helen said with a nod. ¡°But that lack of time was due to the fact you were dying, remember? Now you¡¯re not.¡±

    James leaned in, his mouth opening to say something back. Yet he paused and thought for a second.

    ¡®I¡¯ve been so caught up with my duty that I¡¯ve neglected to push anything back or take time off. I spent the last four months working nonstop on fixing up the town and improving my standing.¡¯

    He was still working like he was on a literal deadline. Not that he hadn¡¯t noticed it. He knew he had been working nonstop for months. It was what kept him sane, after all. Kept him busy enough to ignore the voices in the back of his mind.

    They know something is wrong with you. They¡¯re beginning to notice.

    James instinctively held back the urge to argue with that. It wasn¡¯t from Faust. Nor was it a thought of his own. It was something deeper, something that he had managed to push down for the last two days. He wasn¡¯t crazy. No, he was dealing with another part of himself that screamed guilt and responsibility. He just needed to ignore it.

    ¡®Are you alright?¡¯ Faust asked.

    James gave a mental nod to the spirit as he leaned back into his chair. He watched as Helen began to talk about the weaknesses in both his and Seamus¡¯ forms, listing off the lack of attention and rigidity in both their attacks.

    ¡®Training can probably help clear my head,¡¯ James thought. ¡®Just like when Hara¨C¡­ when I was still training.¡¯

    ¡®That¡¯s a good idea,¡¯ Faust agreed. ¡®Back when I was still alive, I¡¯d usually spar with the other Legionaries in my free time. It was good to keep my skills sharp and raise morale.¡¯

    ¡®Reminds me of the training session where I was put against other guardsmen for the first time,¡¯ James almost wanted to chuckle at the memory. Kate had kicked his ass a couple times, but he came out a victor in the last round. It had been an exhilarating experience, his adrenaline flowing as he clashed his wooden swords with his opponent.

    ¡®Maybe some sparring can be good for me.¡¯

    ¡°Let¡¯s go see where your skills are at,¡± Helen¡¯s words accompanied James¡¯ thoughts, bringing him back to the moment. He saw as Seamus and Dahlia left the table with solemn looks of regret, Felix following right behind him as Helen prepared to leave. The veteran looked over at James, who had neglected to hear what she had said earlier.

    ¡°You too, my Jarl,¡± Helen said with a hint of a manic smile. James could feel his blood run cold at the implication.

    ¡°What?¡± was all he could say.

    ¡°Training ground. Sparring time.¡± Helen said with a grin before she headed off to the longhouse¡¯s double doors. Malik still sat in his chair, his palm supporting his chin as he gazed at James.

    ¡°You¡¯re not coming, right?¡± James said as he got up.

    ¡°In all honesty, I have better things to do,¡± Malik admitted. ¡°I¡¯ve watched you in action enough times to know what to expect. A sparring match is rarely ever interesting.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± James muttered. He headed off to the longhouse¡¯s doors, his left arm swiveling. While he did look tired and almost resentful of the idea of training, James felt the opposite. He felt a ping of excitement in his chest at the thought of testing his skills in a ring against his friends. Not without the fear of dying, of course.

    Then again, he wondered if that fear was the thing that made these fights fun.

    ¡®Best not to think about that,¡¯ James thought as he exited the longhouse.

 B.4 Chapter 21: Sparring

    James walked slowly around the dirt ring, his forehead gleaming with sweat as he caught his breath. His left hand clenched around the training shield he was assigned, and his right held a wooden sword that was already beginning to splinter.

    He looked ahead at his challenger, whose form was huddled on the other side of the ring. Dahlia had a look of focus that told him that she was already thinking of ways to disarm him. She held out her own sword with both hands, her chest heaving with exertion.

    ¡®On her last legs, eh?¡¯

    James stopped his walk, his shield raising as he prepared to rush. He couldn¡¯t use any of his castings or spiritual abilities in this fight. No, this was a test of skill and natural strength. He had no advantage in this fight. Still, that didn¡¯t mean he was completely helpless.

    ¡®Her footwork is off,¡¯ Faust acknowledged. ¡®You could take advantage of that.¡¯

    ¡®I doubt it,¡¯ James responded mentally. ¡®Dahlia¡¯s smart. She¡¯s definitely feigning weakness in order to entice me.¡¯

    ¡®Not to doubt your lady friend,¡¯ Faust said. ¡®But she isn¡¯t exactly all that combat savvy.¡¯

    James furrowed his brow. The spirit might have had a point, but he didn¡¯t want to risk it. Dahlia had told him not to go easy on her before the match had started, and James knew better than to doubt her abilities. She, too, had gone through some shit this past year.

    ¡®I could go for a feint of my own, get her to think I¡¯ll exploit her footwork,¡¯ James thought.

    ¡®Ah, but if she isn¡¯t, that gives her more time to counterattack.¡¯

    James cursed at that. Another good point.

    ¡®What do you suggest I do then?¡¯

    ¡®You stop thinking and fight,¡¯ Faust simply said. ¡®Battle instinct, as barbaric as it sounds, is always better than overthinking an opponent¡¯s ability. Fight and deal with the consequences later.¡¯

    James sighed at that but didn¡¯t offer a rebuttal. Instead, he focused on the Shaman and took off. He rushed Dahlia with a sideways swing, his wooden sword whistling as it glided through the air. Dahlia reacted with a block, catching the wooden training weapon with the brunt of her sword. Both weapons clashed with a resounding whack, the vibrations felt by both fighters.

    James pulled back and bashed with his shield, offering little time for Dahlia to recover and swing back. She stumbled a little, her grunts signifying that she was struggling with holding him back. James grinned as he shifted once more, pulling his shield back as he moved to her left side.

    He was fast, even without the use of his castings. He could feel how the air whipped around him, ruffling his messy hair as he prepared a strike at Dahlia¡¯s side. The Shaman looked at him with wide eyes, her sword still wavering as she tried to turn. In that split second, however, James knew he had won.

    Another whack and cloud of dust later, and Dahlia was on the ground outside the ring. She lay on the dirt, wheezing as she tried to catch her breath.

    ¡°Oh shit,¡± James breathed out in surprise. He rushed over to the Shaman to help her sit up, his hands gently grabbing hers. ¡°Did I go too far? Shit, I knew I should¡¯ve¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re alright,¡± Dahlia managed out in a breath. She managed to stand just fine, her hands brushing the dirt off her gambeson. ¡°I¡¯m just a bit tired from the constant moving. Not much of a fighter after all.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± James asked. He couldn¡¯t help but feel as if he had overdone it.

    ¡®Maybe a sweep or shove would¡¯ve worked better.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Dahlia said with a smile. ¡°If anything, going easy on me would¡¯ve been worse.¡±

    James flushed at that, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Believe me. The last thing I want is to be coddled like I¡¯m weak,¡± Dahlia said as she stepped up. She brushed back James¡¯ messy hair, her fingers tying them back into the knot he had on before the fight had progressed. ¡°You need to learn how to tie your hair a bit better. It¡¯s always loose whenever you try it yourself.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oi! Will you two lovebirds move it?¡± Helen called out. ¡°Next round is Seamus and Dirk. Best you two move it!¡±

    Both Jarl and Shaman scurried to the sideline, where they watched the next two fighters walk up to the ring.

    Both of them wore thick gambeson and gloves for sparring, their heads protected by a leather helmet that no doubt stunk. James himself had taken off the helmet before his spar with Dahlia in order to reduce the distraction of such a scent. Helen didn¡¯t like it much but couldn¡¯t really complain. She, too, had the same habit of taking off the thing whenever they spar.

    Seamus was equipped with a spear and shield, a wooden short sword hanging off his belt. Dirk had a spear and shield himself, along with the sword.

    Both men eyed each other as they stepped in, their shields raising as they stood on opposite sides of the ring. There was a tense air on the training grounds, every trainee around watching with anticipation.

    Apparently, despite this being an off day for most guardsmen, many had wanted to come to watch the Jarl and his close allies spar in the ring. This also included the orcs from Silas and Horuk¡¯s crew, who watched on with curious gazes.

    James could see how there was a young trainee running around taking bets from orcs and guardsmen alike. However, most of them declined to bet. They all knew how one-sided this fight was to begin with.

    Even if Seamus had tried to hide it, everyone in Yorktown knew of his ability and skill. James himself had a taste of it when both of them had clashed earlier that year when the younger man was under the influence of a dreamweaver. Seamus was deadly, there was no doubt about it.

    On the other hand, there was Dirk Andal. A young man, barely nineteen, who had joined the guardsmen not long after the Siege of Yorktown. As young as he was, he was technically a veteran amongst the Raven guard. He had fought Lumen soldiers and survived through the Battle for Yorktown and Vindis.

    Dirk had come a long way and it was clear he wasn¡¯t the same kid James had trained with all those months ago. He was taller, broader, and had a couple new scars on his cheek and hands. He was a fighter now. Still, that didn¡¯t mean he was on the same level as Seamus.

    ¡°Are you two ready?¡± Helen called. Both men nodded. James watched with anticipation, his hand accepting the waterskin offered by Kate, who was watching alongside him and Dahlia.

    ¡°Fight!¡±

    Seamus and Dirk raised their shields, their feet shuffling as they stared at each other. At first, there were no sudden movements or rushes. Both men were simply waiting for the other to make the first move. Right when it looked as if this would be the whole match, Dirk finally started.

    The guardsman stepped with a thrust, his spear¡¯s round bit striking the top of Seamus¡¯ shield. In response, Seamus thrusted his own spear. It glanced off Dirk¡¯s own protection, hitting nothing but air. For a moment, the two had their stances open, their shields shifting to protect the areas that were threatened.

    Then Dirk made his move. He quickly swung his spear¡¯s tip back to Seamus, who barely had enough time to move his wooden disk in place. However, the strike never came. Dirk had feinted the stab, his body moving as he quickly pulled the spear back and bashed his shield against Seamus¡¯ own. Seamus fought against the bash, his arm moving to strike back with his own shield. Dirk took the opportunity to pull away, making Seamus stumble in place.

    Dirk thrust his spear toward Seamus, who barely dodged the attack. He had to drop low to the dirt to avoid it, his hands leaving both shield and spear on the ground in order for him to quickly dodge the follow-up attack that came a second later. Seamus rolled on the dirt for a moment before he sprung onto his feet. He pulled out his short sword right then and there, watching as Dirk carefully approached.

    ¡°He¡¯s done for,¡± Kate muttered next to James.

    With no spear and shield, Seamus was defenseless against Dirk¡¯s range and couldn¡¯t rush the young guard with that shield in the way. He was in an unfavorable position. Regardless, James wasn¡¯t worried. He knew better than to think that it was over.

    Seamus stood up a bit straighter, his breath coming out in a puff of steam. He held the sword in both hands, his feet positioning himself in a familiar stance. James knew exactly what was coming.

    Dirk made the wise decision to defend himself, his shield raising as he watched Seamus with anticipation. His spear wavered, ready to hold off any attempts. Yet it wouldn¡¯t matter. Seamus rushed ahead with his sword, its length a blur as he swung it at Dirk¡¯s shield. The young guardsmen tensed up at the oncoming strike, ready to take it on. It never came.

    Seamus skidded on the dirt in a sudden stop, his sword pulling back to its previous place. At the same time, Dirk¡¯s blunt spear hit the air in front of him.

    ¡®They both feinted?¡¯

    Seamus had bluffed enough to make Dirk think he was going to attack head on, which the guardsmen took as a chance to fake a defensive move. He had sidestepped when Seamus swung, his spear moving to exploit it. Yet Seamus had decided to fake his own attack as well, possibly hoping for Dirk to defend himself in response.

    Both men had feinted their moves, resulting in neither getting hit. Now, they made each other open to attack. The faster one would prevail.

    Seamus quickly swiped with his sword, the edge striking Dirk¡¯s midsection. Despite layers of protection, the guardsman stumbled back with a grunt of pain, his arms wavering as he tried to swing back in retaliation. Seamus sidestepped the attack, his sword swinging again. He hit Dirk¡¯s right arm, making him drop the spear.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    The guardsmen let out a shout before he stepped back, his shield raising. Seamus rushed regardless, his strikes sounding out as he hit the shield. Dirk was being pushed back to the ring¡¯s edge with no option of recourse. He couldn¡¯t even take out his sword without fear of opening himself up to Seamus¡¯ attacks, which were relentless.

    ¡®He lost,¡¯ James thought. ¡®No surprise there.¡¯

    ¡®Well, let¡¯s not discredit guardsmen Andal here. He held his own pretty well against Seamus,¡¯ Faust commented.

    Before James could even agree with the sentiment, the fight took a turn.

    Dirk timed one of Seamus¡¯ attacks, his shield slapping the sword away. Without warning, the young guard threw his shield at his opponent. Seamus quickly dropped to avoid getting hit, leaving Dirk with enough time to unsheathe his sword and risk a wild swing.

    At first, the fight looked to be finished. Dirk had won, and his sword was inbound toward Seamus¡¯ head.

    Thwack! Thwick!

    A wooden sword flew into the air above the ring, and James watched with surprise as two more strikes sounded out right after. Dirk flew back and landed outside of the ring. His sword came to the ground not a second later, landing near his exhausted body. Seamus stood above, his hand massaging his wrist.

    ¡°So fast,¡± Kate muttered. ¡°I didn¡¯t even see it.¡±

    ¡°The disarming?¡± James asked. He couldn¡¯t blame her for not seeing it, as Seamus had moved so quickly. He had countered the attack with a quick strike to the sword¡¯s guard. Dirk didn¡¯t have a good enough hold on his weapon, which resulted in the sword flying out of his hand. The rest was straightforward.

    ¡°Any of it,¡± Kate revealed. ¡°I could barely keep up.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± James asked with some confusion. That didn¡¯t seem right. He could follow the fight just fine. Had Seamus really been so quick? He didn¡¯t notice it that much until towards the end of the fight.

    Seamus headed off to help Dirk up to his feet, who wobbled as he tried to stand.

    ¡°You scared the shit out of me,¡± Dirk said with a laugh. ¡°I could barely keep up.¡±

    The guardsmen all around the ring broke out into murmurs and talking, their conversations all about Seamus and the fight. James even watched as some men took the spoils of their bets whilst a couple watched with a shrug. It looked like this fight¡¯s bet wasn¡¯t as high stakes as some hoped.

    ¡°Do you want to go home and get something to eat?¡± Dahlia asked. James perked up at that, his head swiveling to the Shaman.

    ¡°It¡¯d be nice to go spend some time by ourselves,¡± he said with a grin. He watched as Dahlia flushed red at that.

    ¡°It¡¯s still midday,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°I mean, as in a date,¡± James said with a tilt of his head. Dahlia grew redder at that.

    ¡°Oh, of course.¡± She gave a nervous laugh as she stood up, her hand taking James as they headed off to exit the grounds.

    ¡°Hey, wait!¡± a trainee shouted. James stopped in his tracks, his gaze turning to the young man who had shouted. The trainee was a part of the group that had been taking in bets since the start of the sparring. He was pointing at both James and Seamus, his voice calling out to the rest of the men.

    ¡°We want a fairer fight! No one-sided sparring! Something real!¡± he shouted.

    ¡°Yeah!¡± another shouted. ¡°I want to see Jarl Holter go against Seamus Halvorson!¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± a guardsman asked. ¡°Jarl Holter will obviously win.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit,¡± the younger man said. ¡°Seamus is Yorn Halvorson¡¯s blood! It¡¯s clear who¡¯s the victor in that fight.¡±

    More arguing devolved from the request, with more weighing in on the debate. In the end, Helen had to step in.

    ¡°Quiet!¡± she shouted. ¡°That¡¯s enough from you all! Now, unless both want to spar with each other, there¡¯s no way you lot are gonna sanction fights on the grounds!¡±

    ¡°Actually,¡± James spoke up. ¡°I¡¯ve been kind of wanting to test myself against Seamus for some time. I wouldn¡¯t mind sparring with him, as long as it¡¯s ok with him.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mind,¡± Seamus said with a shrug. ¡°We can spar.¡±

    James almost seemed surprised by the nonchalance in the younger man¡¯s voice. Just a year ago, Seamus would¡¯ve outright refused to even consider fighting another person, let alone James. Now, however, he held himself with confidence.

    ¡°Are you two sure?¡± Helen asked.

    ¡°Positive,¡± James said. ¡°Just a friendly training session. Nothing too serious.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Seamus said with a grin. ¡°A quick spar between friends.¡±

    ¡°Alright then,¡± Helen sighed in defeat as the guardsmen all looked at each other in excitement. ¡°Let¡¯s set up the ring.¡±

    <hr>

    Dahlia sat on a nearby bench, her hands clasping onto her waterskin. She took tentative sips from it, her eyes watching the ring in front of her. Around her, trainees and guardsmen alike were hedging bets and placing coins on the table nearby. The bets ranged from scraps of silver to glinting Queen pieces. They all wanted to see this fight.

    On opposite sides of the ring, Seamus and James stood with wooden training swords. They wore nothing but light gambesons, their helmets absent. Both had neglected to wear any.

    ¡®I wonder what¡¯s going through their heads.¡¯

    James was clearly going over tactics with Faust, trying his best to figure out any weaknesses Seamus had. Seamus was probably thinking the same thing, trying to account for the fact that James had a veteran warrior in his head.

    ¡°Approach the ring!¡± Helen called. Her shout was enough to send the training grounds into hushed whispers. Everyone was watching now.

    Both men stepped up the dirt ring, their gazes on each other. James had a sly grin on his face, his expression that of¡­ excitement?

    Dahlia never expected James to be the type to enjoy fighting. At least, that¡¯s what she thought.

    ¡®Perhaps there¡¯s more to him I haven¡¯t understood yet.¡¯

    Seamus, on the other hand, looked resolute. He was focused on the fight ahead, his body tensing up as he readied his sword.

    James did the same, his sword raising as he locked his sights on the other man.

    ¡°Ready?¡±

    Both nodded.

    ¡°Fight!¡± Helen¡¯s shout reverberated in the quiet air, the entirety of the grounds watching with anticipation.

    At first, there was no movement. Both men stared at each other, their feet slightly shuffling toward each other. Slowly, bit by bit, they approached the center, their gazes locked.

    Then, Seamus moved. The dirt in the ring was kicked up into the air, creating a dust cloud as Seamus rushed toward James. The young Jarl barely had enough time to block the attack, his wooden weapon clashing with a resounding whack!

    Seamus pulled back from the initial clash, his sword turning into a flash of wood. James blocked again, his right hand twisting the sword to catch the strike. For a brief moment, both of them were close by a few inches, their eyes still locked onto each other. James grinned as he fended off the attack, pushing Seamus back by a couple feet.

    Without hesitation, James rushed toward the younger man. Holding his weapon in both hands, he swung quickly. The strike was dodged by Seamus, who ducked under its swing. He struck at James¡¯ hands, the thwack of the hit enough to make everyone cringe in pain, Dahlia included.

    James¡¯ sword flew into the air above him, not unlike it did for Dirk. Seamus stepped forward then, his hands swinging the sword back for another hit. It would not come as James kicked the other man back in a move that Dahlia instantly recognized.

    ¡®Gryff.¡¯

    James had kicked Seamus in the same way Faust had done to Gryff during their fight last Frost, albeit without the spirit¡¯s boisterous shout of victory.

    Seamus stumbled back from the hit, his eyes wide with confusion. In that moment of respite, James quickly caught his sword and rushed forth with another attack, using only his right hand to swing. Seamus quickly blocked the strike with his own sword, deflecting it before he performed a counterattack. It would be for naught.

    James caught the attack with his training weapon, catching the sword between where the guard met blade before his fist struck Seamus in a brutal left hook. Seamus stumbled back from the hit, which gave the Jarl enough time to strike again. His wooden sword smacked against Seamus¡¯ weapon, which had risen to block the follow up attack. Despite this, the force of the blow was enough to send Seamus back towards the ring¡¯s edge.

    ¡®James is fighting like Faust,¡¯ Dahlia realized. At first, she thought that James had allowed Faust to fight this for him. Yet she quickly disregarded that possibility. James¡¯ eyes were still normal and she sensed no magic from him. This was the result of his training with the Centurion.

    ¡®Was he going easy on me all that time?¡¯ Dahlia thought back to her spar with him. Compared to now, it was as if he wasn¡¯t even trying with her.

    Seamus quickly regained his senses after the last hit and managed to catch the next attack, blocking it with the brunt of his weapon. For a moment in between the clash, both men locked eyes once again. Seamus pulled back and struck again, just as James did the same.

    Thwack!

    Their swords splintered as they came into contact, the sound echoing around them. They pulled back and did it again, the sound reverberating throughout the training grounds. Dahlia clenched her fists, knowing full well that both men were feeling the vibrations of the clashes. There was no way it was painless.

    Crack!

    On their third clash, the swords had reached their limits. Their wooden lengths splintered and cracked underneath the pressure, finally breaking. Both James and Seamus stopped there, their gazes on their broken weapons.

    ¡°Guess¡­ Guess we overdid it¡­¡± James panted, sweat soaking his hair and collar.

    ¡°Yes¡­ I suppose so¡­¡± Seamus huffed, his face all red.

    ¡°Idiots!¡± Helen called out from the sidelines. ¡°What did I say about clashing swords like that?¡±

    ¡°Got caught up in the moment,¡± James managed in between breaths. ¡°Guess that¡¯s that.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± one of the guardsmen called out. ¡°Who won?¡±

    Seamus shrugged as he slowly walked off the ring. ¡°I suppose we can call it a draw. I¡¯m not willing to go any further.¡±

    ¡°Same.¡± James chuckled as he stumbled to a nearby bench.

    Groans filled the training grounds, with many of the men complaining about wasted bets and lost potential.

    ¡°Quiet, all of yous!¡± Helen shouted. ¡°I hear another complaint, and everyone here is doing laps!¡±

    That was enough to shut everyone up. Yet Dahlia could still see the smoldering looks they all gave as they grumpily went about their businesses. She sighed before standing and making her way to James, who was drinking what he could from the nearby barrel of water.

    ¡°Nice fight,¡± she said as she approached. James raised his head from the barrel, his face wet as he tried to wipe it dry with a sleeve.

    ¡°You think so?¡± he asked.

    ¡°You did really well,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°Honestly, you could¡¯ve won if the swords didn¡¯t break.¡±

    ¡°Doubt it,¡± James chuckled.

    ¡°What?¡± Dahlia furrowed her brow at that. ¡°You had Seamus on edge toward the end. You were at an advantage.¡±

    James shook his head at that. ¡°God, no. I was swinging more out of fear. He¡¯s faster than me, you know? I only managed to catch him off guard a couple times out of luck. If those clashes lasted just a little longer, I¡¯m pretty sure he¡¯d find a way to counter my hits and take me out.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Dahlia asked. She looked over at Seamus, who was currently drinking out of his waterskin as both Dirk and Kate accompanied him.

    ¡°Really,¡± James confirmed. ¡°The only way I ever could have won is if I was fast enough to knock him out early.¡±

    ¡°So when he managed to block your attack at the ring¡¯s edge¡­¡± Dahlia started.

    ¡°It was only a matter of time,¡± James said. ¡°There¡¯s no doubt about it.¡±

    ¡°Seamus would¡¯ve won.¡±

 B.4 Chapter 22: Marion

    Malik was a simple man. If he saw something tasty, he ate it. If he saw something interesting, he studied it. If he saw a body prime for resurrection, there was no force on Azura that could prevent him from trying to use it for his own nefarious means.

    At least, no force outside of James Holter. The Jarl had a pact with Malik, one that described rules of engagement and respect for the dead. A stupid rule that had impeded the necromancer¡¯s studies. In his humble opinion, the dead were already dead, their bodies nothing more than fodder and fertilizer. At least until he put it to use.

    Malik thought it stupid that people ¡®respected¡¯ the dead. A corpse was useless on its own, it¡¯s only saving grace being that of food for the worms in the dirt. Even then, in the harsh climate of Valenfrost, such a benefit for nature was short-lived. Not to mention those things that Holter feared. Bodies being burnt was an even bigger waste.

    From the necromancer¡¯s point of view, a dead body was an opportunity. An opportunity for the deceased to become useful after death. To actually have their death mean something. Not like the men who had ¡®sacrificed¡¯ their lives in Vindis. The men whose deaths did nothing but delay the inevitable.

    If it hadn¡¯t been for Malik¡¯s army of dead, the Battle for Vindis would¡¯ve ended very differently. Yet he was never thanked for such a feat. No, all the credit went to that dead veteran and dwarf, their ¡®sacrifices¡¯ credited for helping in their victory.

    ¡®I¡¯ll make them know my power. I¡¯ll have them in awe of what I can do.¡¯

    Malik grinned as he approached the mountain path¡¯s end, which led into the cave that had once held the Beholder Eye before that meddling Outlander had interfered. He walked into the cave, the hall lit with candles. While this place held no artifacts, it was still important for Malik.

    Ley lines had a tendency to converge at certain points, most commonly in mountains and forests, where life usually prospered. While unimpressive in size and spectacle, the ley lines here converged into an interconnected web. Even cracked and shattered, these lines of power were still very useful, especially for Malik.

    The necromancer stepped into the large chamber, the one that had once summoned James to this world. Where the Beholder Eye was held before that Outlander had destroyed it for good. Not that Malik cared for it. He was never going to get even close to unlocking its secrets without implanting it inside his own sockets. While crazy to some degree, Malik was more or less careful when it came to meddling with otherworldly beings that could drive him to insanity.

    It wouldn¡¯t do him any good to turn mad right when he was on the verge of figuring out immortality. True immortality.

    ¡®Ah, but of course, that is for another time.¡¯

    Malik turned his gaze to the pitch black pool of water that sat in the chamber. It now held something else instead of that demonic eye. A corpse, wrapped in bandages and sealed with drawn glyphs. Malik had set this body here earlier this morning, before that meeting in the longhouse. He had planned to get to work on it the other day, but events had prevented him from doing so.

    Malik had set up glyphs and a ritual circle around the pool of water, a line of salt drawn in a small circle in front of it. That was for him. While the chance of a rogue undead was small, Malik didn¡¯t want to take chances. He had heard more than his fair share of stories about fellow necromancers getting killed by their own creations.

    Malik reached into the satchel he brought along, his hand digging out a small crystalline jewel that glowed a soft purple. There was a tinge of red that lurked within the soul gem, the glow increasing as a result. Malik grinned.

    ¡°Almost, Marion. We¡¯re almost there,¡± he cooed. The necromancer tucked it back into the satchel before he took out a thick grimoire, the leather cover wilted at the edges. The text on its front was written in Godspeak, the runic characters worn and nearly ineligible.

    Malik reread the instructions for the ritual, the one designed to break divine blessings and engravings. It wouldn¡¯t work on all divine magic, especially if it was recently blessed by Delphine herself, but the blessings on this particular body had eroded with time. Of course, the curses and binding glyphs Malik had placed on it weren¡¯t making it any better.

    He muttered to himself as he flipped through the pages, his eyes scanning the faded ink and drawn circles. After refreshing his memory, the necromancer placed the grimoire aside and cracked his knuckles. He let out a couple practice whispers and chants, his eyes closing as he prepared himself.

    Malik soon lowered himself into the lukewarm pool of water, the bottom of his robes rising as he waded through. He reached the wrapped cadaver in the middle, his left hand placing itself over where the heart was. Malik then chanted.

    His words came out as whispers, unintelligible for normal ears to pick up. Then his voice grew in volume, and the glyphs around him began to glow. The water shifted and splashed as time went on, yet the body did not react. Malik continued to chant, his tongue speaking a mixture of Godspeak and Azuran.

    The body before him soon began to shudder, its back arching as it levitated. It floated a few centimeters from the pool of water, the glyphs on its bandages brightening to the point of blinding the necromancer. Malik grinned as his chanting grew intense, his words coming out in shouts and yells as the water formed into a cyclone of darkness.

    Before he knew it, the glyphs on the cadaver were snuffed out in a display of sparks, the ritual circle¡¯s glow growing dim. The pool of water grew still, and the body dropped back into it, sending out a wave.

    Still grinning, Malik examined the body with a critical eye. After a moment, he laughed heartily. His hand reached into his robes, their fingers pulling out the same gem as before. Malik raised it over the body; the bandages around the heart burnt and loosened enough to showcase the bare chest of the dead woman.

    ¡°Summon Encased Soul.¡±

    The gem glowed a bright purple, mist excreting from its crystalline surface. It flowed down the body below, converging around it.

    Storing souls¡ªimprints¡ªin gems was an art that only he knew. He had learned it long ago from a fellow caster who had once been bent on creating dungeons near the Lumen province. The idiot had been following tradition, which involved him fighting an unwinnable war against the Lumen Kingdom¡ªor Empire as it was called back then. Of course, this fool had died not long after Malik met him. Thankfully for the necromancer, however, the man had left him something very very useful.

    ¡°Now for the final piece of this puzzle,¡± he muttered as he pressed his hand against the cold corpse¡¯s skin. The mist converged around his fingers, almost excitedly. Malik breathed in deeply, his eyes closing as he focused. This was another art he needed to be careful with, for if he misstepped, he could risk losing everything.

    ¡°Warmth to You. Bestow Life.¡±

    Malik felt as a small well of power¡ªseparate from his key lines¡ªdeep inside him burned away a single reserve. Immediately after, a section of Malik¡¯s memory was whisked away like a village being taken by a tidal wave. He didn¡¯t know what it was he lost, only that he had made peace with losing it prior to the ritual. Perhaps it was a section of his past, something personal. All he knew was that it was thankfully not a part of his vast knowledge of magic.

    A ¡®Life,¡¯ as he called the reserve, only needed memories. The more important, the more the caster can Converge. While basic knowledge can be used, it was something the necromancer cherished deeply. He¡¯d much rather lose all memory of his past than the information he had accumulated over the years.

    His Life reserve was transferred to the body, and as a result, the mist that surrounded it reacted immediately. Wispy tendrils raised and stabbed into the exposed flesh, rushing into the corpse with ease. Malik made sure to focus his ritual on the body and not himself. The last thing he wanted was to waste one of his precious reserves to rejuvenate himself by a few years.

    Malik watched as the body twitched and reacted, the mist slowly dissipating. He sighed and turned around, stepping out of the pool. As he waited for the process to finish, Malik decided to change into a new set of robes, which he made sure to bring along. He always liked to be prepared.

    Once he was out of his wet clothes, Malik turned just in time to see the body stop its movements. He watched as it sank into the pool of water, disappearing within its depths. He checked the soul gem he had used for the ritual; its surface was no longer glowing, and its color was reduced to a dunn gray.

    There was then a splash and Malik watched as someone bursted from the pool. They stood in the waist high water, flailing around as they caught their breath. Before he knew it, the person was still. She panted heavily, the bandages still wrapped around most of her body. She then quickly tore off the ones that covered most of her head, revealing long pale blond hair and eyes that glowed a soft maroon color. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°Welcome back Marion, it¡¯s been some time since we¡¯ve last seen each other,¡± Malik said.

    Marion tensed up at the sound of his voice, her body stiffening as she turned to the necromancer. She stared at him for a moment before straightening herself out. Her breathing grew quiet immediately, and her posture changed to that of a servant.

    ¡°Master Ymir,¡± she spoke, her voice a soft croak. Her vocal cords were still warming up. ¡°You look different. How long has it been?¡±

    Malik waved off the question. ¡°You can call me Malik, my dear. I¡¯ve grown tired of the whole master thing anyway.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Marion whispered. ¡°Master Malik, why have you summoned me? The last time you did so¡­¡±

    ¡°It was an opportunity I couldn¡¯t pass up,¡± Malik said, ignoring the fact that Marion had still used the master title regardless of what he had said. ¡°You see, I¡¯ve been in the service of this¡­ Outlander. He is an interesting case but downright ridiculous with his morals and boundaries. It hinders me and my work, leaving me with little wiggle room to perform the rituals I need.¡±

    ¡°Lack of bodies, then?¡± Marion asked with curiosity.

    ¡°Not entirely,¡± Malik said. ¡°Admittedly, his actions alone have dropped more corpses these past months than I ever did running that shitty hideout in the Copper District. No, the real reason is the lack of specific bodies.¡±

    ¡°Virgins,¡± Marion muttered. ¡°Right?¡±

    Malik snapped his fingers. ¡°Right, you are. Finding a virgin is already hard enough. To find one that just so happens to be a marauder or raider? I¡¯d have better luck convincing Delphine not to smite me.¡±

    ¡°Yet, you summoned me,¡± Marion said, her hand moving to her neck. There was a long scar that ran across the throat and neck. It was the wound that killed the original person. Of course, Malik wasn¡¯t the one who dealt the blow. That had come from someone else. Thankfully, she still technically counted as an enemy, so it didn¡¯t go against the pact¡¯s conditions.

    ¡°Lumen Knight,¡± Malik said. ¡°They¡¯re all celibates, all chosen by Delphine. Thankfully for us, this woman¡¯s soul left her body long ago. With a little magic trickery and some rituals, I¡¯ve managed to get rid of whatever holy blessing was left on her. Leaving only the body.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Marion muttered. She looked down at her new body, her hands rising above her head as she examined herself. ¡°These new bones are quite small. Strong, but smaller than the last set I inhabited.¡±

    ¡°Well, we can¡¯t be picky,¡± Malik said with a shrug. ¡°Besides, your role shall be to support and assist.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate your generosity, Master Malik,¡± Marion whispered. ¡°But why waste your time and reserves on summoning me if you only require an assistant? Surely, you could use a conjuration or even hire an apprentice.¡±

    ¡°Conjurations could only help so much,¡± Malik answered as he tapped the side of his head. ¡°No brain in those noggins. Apprentices would be nice if I had the coin. Even if I did, the last witch I hired went to work with Lumen bastards after our departure. No, Marion, I¡¯d rather have an assistant who could think and perform magic like me, all with the undying loyalty of a summon.¡±

    ¡°You flatter me, Master Malik,¡± Marion said with a soft smile.

    ¡°Please,¡± Malik chuckled as he waved. ¡°I am simply thinking rationally. Besides, I doubt I¡¯d have a better chance to summon you back into my service. Aside from the lack of virgin bodies, I have found that Holter tends to get himself into precarious situations. Better I have a backup, just in case I find myself¡­ disposed of.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Master Malik,¡± Marion softly murmured. She did a small curtsy in the water, her head bowing before the necromancer. ¡°I am at your service, then. Until my body gives out, of course.¡±

    ¡°Good to hear,¡± Malik sighed. ¡°Now, dry yourself off and get dressed. We have much work to do.¡±

    The necromancer had to give that other Outlander some credit. She had managed to offload so much pointless researching and studying when she destroyed that damned eye. Malik never felt more free of such a burden. Of course, that didn¡¯t mean she was getting off that easy. She had undermined his power and taunted him by tripping him off that damn cliff.

    No magic, no great power, just childish tricks. Malik had to use his advanced spell, Flight, just to even survive the fall. By the time he had come back up, she was long gone. She had ridiculed Malik. That wasn¡¯t so easily forgiven.

    ¡®I¡¯m almost glad that Holter¡¯s own underling had ordered me to find the brat.¡¯

    Malik grinned as he started to prepare another ritual within the chamber, his hands drawing chalk runes on the walls. He could see how Marion quickly dressed herself in new clothes, her form illuminated by the candles in the room. She wore a black dress that extended past her ankles, dragging on the floor. The sleeves of her dress reached to her knuckles, their bagginess apparent. It was oversized for her.

    ¡®No matter. We can get her better clothes another time.¡¯

    Marion didn¡¯t even seem bothered by the big clothes. She instead rolled up the sleeves and picked up the long skirt to make it easier for her to walk over to his satchel. Marion picked through it before she took out a piece of chalk. Without saying a word, she was already drawing new glyphs onto the stone walls, the runes complimenting Malik¡¯s own.

    ¡®Ah, she already knows what ritual we¡¯re performing.¡¯

    Marion was Malik¡¯s favorite for a reason. While she wasn¡¯t as strong or as powerful as most of the imprints in his soul gems, she was the brightest of them. She knew exactly what Malik needed and didn¡¯t question him when it came to fulfilling those needs.

    The perfect assistant. Oh, how Malik missed this companionship. He would have to reward such efforts later. After they find the Outlander, of course.

    There was work to be done.

    <hr>

    Seamus groaned as he sat on the barstool, his left hand massaging the place where James had struck him earlier that day. It was still radiating pain and no doubt left a bruise. Yet he didn¡¯t really mind it. He knew exactly what he was getting into and expected to get hurt.

    ¡°The fight was yours, Seamus,¡± Kate murmured to his right. Seamus turned to the guardswoman, who already had a tankard of ale in her hand. He frowned at the drink but said nothing. The last thing he needed was another argument about day drinking.

    ¡°Right it was,¡± Dirk said to his left. ¡°Holter was on his last legs.¡±

    ¡°I suppose so,¡± Seamus sighed as he leaned on the bar. He had come to the tavern in an attempt to get something substantial to eat. While he could always head to the eateries by the marketplace, he usually trusted Gladis to actually give him something that wasn¡¯t terribly overpriced. The tavern was also the closest to the training grounds.

    Usually, James and Dahlia would join him after a day of training. However, they had gone off with Helen to write a draft for the message they would send to Jarl Ivan, regarding terms. Which left Seamus alone at the tavern with only Kate and Dirk by his side.

    He tapped on the wooden surface of the bar, his thoughts drifting toward the sparring match he had with James. It had come close, even if it was short-lived.

    ¡®The adrenaline rush alone¡­¡¯

    Seamus hadn¡¯t felt so on edge during a fight since Eli. James was someone he never expected to move the way he did. Then again, he doubted he¡¯d ever seen the Jarl fight like that. Sure, he had seen James fight off conjured skeletons and draugr, but he had never gone all out like he had during that match.

    This was the first time they had even sparred with each other. Of course, Seamus didn¡¯t count the one time he was under a dreamweaver¡¯s influence. That didn¡¯t count since he was unconscious during the entire ordeal.

    ¡°If the fight only lasted a little longer, I¡¯m sure you would¡¯ve knocked him out,¡± Kate said proudly, her hand grabbing Seamus¡¯ shoulder. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, which instantly made him flush red. ¡°You¡¯re a winner in my book.¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± Seamus started. He paused for a moment before he shook his head. ¡°I should¡¯ve lost.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Dirk asked. ¡°No way! You had him!¡±

    Seamus shook his head again. ¡°I was panicking toward the end. I only managed to block that last attack out of sheer instinct. After that, it was only a matter of time. If those swords didn¡¯t break, there¡¯s no doubt in my mind he would¡¯ve been able to overpower me. He¡¯s stronger.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re faster,¡± Kate said with a frown.

    ¡°I know, but¡­¡± Seamus trailed off as Gladis came by. The barwoman set down a bowl of porridge for him, which steamed with the scent of pork fat. He thanked her with a handful of silver before he dug in.

    ¡°James can take my hits,¡± he mumbled between bites. ¡°But I nearly lost consciousness when he punched me.¡±

    Seamus had temporarily blacked out when James hit him with that left hook. Had it not been for his own instinct to block the attack after that, he would¡¯ve definitely lost.

    The entire fight had told Seamus one thing. His training, despite the years of keeping keen, meant nothing if he couldn¡¯t account for his opponent¡¯s ability. He had no idea James was as strong as he was now. How could he? James had only been here for a year. That time alone shouldn¡¯t have produced a warrior like him.

    ¡®Yet, he had nearly died two times over. He shouldn¡¯t have gotten this far in the first place.¡¯

    In a strange way, it was almost like fate was favoring James. Like the world itself was working to keep him alive for a greater purpose. For what, Seamus couldn¡¯t fathom it.

    ¡®I¡¯m thinking about this too much.¡¯

    Seamus turned his attention to his porridge, his spoon picking at the bowl as he sighed. He took another bite, his thoughts going back to the sparring match. James was stronger than him. Not faster, of course, but he was getting to the point where speed wouldn¡¯t matter anymore. Seamus holding his own for as long as he did was done mostly out of instinct. In other words¡­

    ¡°I got lucky,¡± Seamus said as he swallowed.

    ¡°Wait, are you telling us¡­?¡± Kate started before Seamus nodded.

    ¡°James would¡¯ve won.¡±

 B.4 Chapter 23: Terms and Conditions

    "Ten soldiers on each side, including our bodyguards," James said as Elaine scribbled on a piece of parchment. Next to the bard sat Helen and Dahlia, their gazes on her as she wrote down the terms for the parley.

    "Ten soldiers is too little," Dahlia muttered.

    "Honestly, I think it''s too much," James said. "I don''t want to intimidate Ivan."

    "Negotiations are all intimidation," Helen growled. "I doubt Yorn acquired his status and rule with peace talks alone."

    "So let''s send at least two ship''s worth of men," Dahlia said.

    Helen shook her head. "Now that''s too much, even for me. Fifteen good men should do the trick. If we were to add orcs, then I suggest a lower number."

    Dahlia frowned. "That''s still too low. No disrespect, but I doubt fifteen of our own soldiers will be able to hold off an ambush."

    "You''re underestimating our own forces and overestimating Ivan''s strength," Helen said. "Last I heard, most of the prisoners who once served Ivan have told us the Jarl''s forces are nothing more than peasant folk and ''reformed'' bandits. They''re not skilled, and their gear is liminal."

    "Still, who knows what Ivan''s been up to these past months?" Dahlia asked. "We should come in with an overwhelming force, take Horuk''s orcs with us and their ships."

    "We can''t overdo it," James argued. "We want an alliance, remember? Not a good look if I just bully him into it."

    "As much as I hate to agree," Helen started. "James has a point. From what he''s told us, Ivan is desperate. Desperate means skittish. If he even gets a whiff that we''re going to break the rules of our own parley and meet him with an overwhelming force, then he''s going to fuck off permanently. Next thing we know, we''re waging a clan war on the southern islands. And believe me, island warfare is ugly."

    "We also can''t allow too many soldiers to come with both sides," James pointed out. "If something does go wrong, we don''t want a small war happening in whatever town we agree to meet at."

    "That brings me to another question," Helen pointed out. "Where are you planning to meet Jarl Ivan?"

    James paused for a second to think. He hadn''t really thought about it. If anything, he had assumed the parley would be held at some neutral town in the south, but now he wasn''t so sure. His politicking with the other clans and towns had shown him that nearly every island in Valenfrost was claimed by one clan or another. There were some exceptions, such as Yorktown before his involvement and Farhorn¡ªwhich lay near the Abyssal Sea.

    Regardless of those exceptions, territory was an important thing and at a premium. The settlements closest to Yorktown were the towns of Hinesworth in the far west and Runarstead in the northwest. Both of which had once been under the control of Yorn Halvorson before he had died and left them without support. They were now Olafson territory.

    James'' own territory stretched from Yorktown to Aldren, to Vindis, and a few outposts that were stationed on some uninhabited isles. He had been in talks last month with the mayor of Farhorn about his interest in taking the small town into his clan, but that didn''t seem too promising. Farhorn was barely anything substantial. It was more of a small village rather than a town, and its island was more of a small isle of gravel and dirt. Its placement was also too far away to be of any use.

    In short, while James had made quite an impact on Valenfrost clan politics, his own territory and standing was less than impressive. It also meant there was little to no place for him to set up a meeting with Jarl Ivan.

    "Well, I was thinking we could meet on one of his islands," James suggested.

    "Well, don''t," Helen answered with a frustrated growl. "You need neutral ground. Vindis is probably a good place, but I doubt the clans will let you use it."

    James nodded in agreement at that. The clans that still had some stake in the floating city were certainly not going to be fond of allowing someone like Ivan to even step foot on the docks. It was a well-known fact that nearly all the clans in the south disliked the Falk Clan.

    ''More than dislike. They call him an enemy. I wonder why?'' James thought about the possibilities. He decided to save that train of thought for another time.

    "Alright, so alternatives," Dahlia started. "How about we find an uninhabited isle, like the one Horuk used before we took his clan in?"

    "Finding a decently sized isle that''s not near any other clan territory is like finding a virgin in the midst of Vindis," Helen commented. "It''ll take more time than it''s worth."

    "What about neutral waters?" James asked, an idea popping up in his head. He wondered if Valenfrost had something similar to international waters like on Earth. "An area in the sea that''s not owned by any clan."

    Helen stopped at that. She leaned back in her chair, a thoughtful look on her face as she rubbed her chin.

    "That''s not a terrible idea, actually."

    "Just like the time when Yorn Halvorson talked a truce out with the Lumen Kingdom''s Commander during the Outsider Wars, when they met in the waters outside of Svendgard," Elaine mumbled in reflection, her pen tapping the parchment. "The bards say that it was such a tense meeting, each side containing an armada''s worth of reinforcements. At the end of it, however, Commander Hammond had emerged praising Yorn and declaring his respect for him."

    Everyone in the room turned to the bard, whose thoughtful murmurs echoed throughout the silent room. She turned to them with a shrug, her left hand brushing some black hair out of her face.

    "It was one of the few times that a Lumen authority openly praised Valenfrost. Thought it was interesting to think about."

    "Well, I doubt this meeting will be as important or tense," Helen said. "As for neutral waters, well, there are a few stretches of ocean I can think of."

    "A meeting on the waters can limit the amount of forces each side brings," James said. "It could be a good thing."

    "Or it could be worse," Dahlia murmured. "Ivan could just bring an armada with him, and we''ll be caught off guard."

    "Not unless we bring Frostbite," James pointed out. "Gate runes, remember? If it turns ugly, we''ll be out before we know it. We don''t even have to bring Falrick, not when we have Malik. I''m sure he could activate them."

    "Still¨C"

    "It''ll be fine," Helen said with a sigh. "Ivan is a low-ranking Jarl. While he controls a good portion of the southern islands, his territory is littered with abandoned towns and outposts. His men are stretched thin, and his authority is quite laughable."

    The veteran pointed over at James. "James has nothing going for him. His territory extends to one successful fishing town and a half-baked island covered in ash. No offense. However, his strength and standing in the south are far more than what Jarl Ivan could achieve. When you look at it from another point of view, Ivan has no other choice than to ally himself with James, especially since no other clan will even think about meeting with him."

    Helen allowed a moment of silence to wash over the room. Everyone had their sights on the parchment, where the parley agreements were half scribbled.

    "That is our leverage," Helen continued. "Our status is our strength. Ivan wouldn''t dare try anything. Not if he valued his own life. He knows full well what James can do."

    Dahlia was silent for a moment, her arms crossing as she stared at the parchment. "So, who''s going to accompany the meeting?"

    "That''s easy," James said. "Malik, Helen, and Haggard. Our heavy hitters, so to speak. I know Falrick''s going to be busy the entire time with Aldren''s vault."

    Helen shook her head. "I''m not going, neither is Haggard. I raided Ivan''s territories during my time with the marauders. Not taking the chance of any of his men recognizing me. Haggard, I can''t trust that idiot to keep things civil."

    James raised an eyebrow. "Then who do you recommend?"

    "Silas and a squad of his orcs," Helen raised a finger as she spoke. "Squads six and seven, led by Greene and Farin." Another two fingers.

    "Not Rowan?" Dahlia asked. "She controls our best squad, no?"

    "Kate led one of the squads during the Battle for Yorktown," Helen pointed out. "She had lost people to Ivan''s soldiers. I''d rather not have her around for the talks. The same goes for Jonas Harris and Dirk Andal."

    "I see why you chose Silas, but I think Horuk might be better for this," James suddenly said.

    Helen shook her head. "No way. Silas is the diplomat, not Horuk.¡±

    "That''s exactly why," James said. "Silas is the only one who could manage both New Aldren and the orc tribe here on the island. Taking him away from here would be detrimental, even for a short while. Besides, Horuk would be better off just being around as intimidation. He doesn''t even have to step off the ship."

    "What happened to not intimidating them?" Helen asked.

    "Nothing wrong with a little show of power," James said with a shrug. "Horuk and his orcs should be more than enough anyway. Add that and the two raven squads you picked out, and we''re clear."

    Helen let out a breath of frustration but nodded regardless. "Fine. So it''s settled. You will be accompanied by a squad of orcs led by Horuk, two Raven squads led by Thorkel Greene and Benard Farin, and Malik Ymir."

    "I''m coming too," Dahlia interjected.

    "No, you''re not," James immediately responded. "You''re technically second in command. Meaning you''re watching over the clan while I''m gone."

    Dahlia gave a frustrated sigh. "Yes, but¡ª"

    "But nothing," Helen interrupted. "You''re second to secede after James if something happens to him. Unless, of course, you want to heft that responsibility to Seamus or the council."

    Dahlia stopped at that and gave a defeated sigh before she leaned back in her chair. "Fine."

    James couldn''t help but feel bad about the way he had responded to her. He knew Dahlia had just wanted to accompany him to keep him safe despite the armed escort he was bringing with him. He couldn''t blame her for wanting to be careful. Hell, he would''ve been more than open to bringing her along for the meeting. She was better at this, he was sure of it. It also would''ve been more comforting to have her at his side.

    Yet James knew that he couldn''t risk the worst. There was a reason why he didn''t want to bring Silas or Falrick. If there was even a small chance of this going wrong, James didn''t want his close friends to be the first to fall. Or any of his important allies getting seriously hurt. He wanted to prepare for the worst, for even the slightest chance of failure.

    ''There will be more time to talk to her about this later,'' Faust whispered in his thoughts. ''Let us focus on finishing this for now. Time is of the importance.''

    James silently agreed with that before he turned his attention back to Elaine, who was scribbling down the terms Helen was laying out for parley.

    The rest of the day would be spent writing out the rest of the conditions they had agreed on.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    <hr>

    When James went back home with Dahlia that night, the Shaman had little to talk with him about. She had resigned herself to the cot, not much of a conversation leaving her as James got ready for bed. Dahlia was clearly frustrated with the decision to leave her out of the parley, and she refused to talk more about it.

    James had decided to leave her alone then and instead focused on trying to get some sleep. The day was short and night time had come early. He would have to make the most out of the week, in sending the messenger to Ivan and awaiting a response.

    James wasn''t sure the exact length of time it would take for his messenger to reach the Hawk Clan, but he hoped it would be a quick venture. For the time being, he could probably go back to focusing his attention on the needs of his clan and the possible expansion he could make in the south.

    That was for another time, however. For now, James just wanted to sleep soundly in his warm cot, his thoughts no longer clouded with the worries of his people and the responsibilities of his standing as Jarl.

    Unfortunately, James did not simply drift off to a dreamless sleep. Instead, he was met with the sight of an endless plane of water, the dark, wispy mist curling and caressing his body.

    At first, he had thought he was in the mindscape, the same place he and Faust often met. Yet that possibility quickly subsided when the mist parted, and he was met with the glow of a monumental structure.

    It was a colossal tree, its branches reaching for miles and miles. It was stupidly tall, the peak of its canopy extending so high up that James could swear it was touching the stars. The tree''s trunk, despite being miles away, was so wide that it dwarfed any stadium from Earth.

    It was such a memorable sight that James knew exactly what he was looking at.

    ''The Tree of Fate, why am I here?''

    James noted the way his thoughts were still kept to himself, indicating that this was no normal trip to the mindscape. This was something else.

    James couldn''t stop himself from taking a step toward the tree, his body moving on its own. Just when his foot made contact with the water, the world turned into a blur. The tree moved instantly, its lumbering form dashing towards him at frightening speed.

    "N-No¡­ I''m moving towards it!" James thought aloud as he was rushed toward the magical monument. His body lurched like it was being dragged through water, his body compressing underneath the pressure. Before he knew it, he was at the tree''s base.

    James stumbled as he arrived, his legs nearly giving out as he tried to correct himself. As he finally got his footing under control, someone spoke.

    "My, what an entrance."

    James froze at the sound of Iendis'' voice. He slowly turned to the source, his eyes settling on the demi-goddess he had met months back. She was still restricted to the tree, her body wrapped in white bandages and golden chains. He could see hints of clothing underneath the white gauze, but it was hard to tell what she was wearing. The upper half of her face was wrapped in white, blinding her eyes but allowing her raven-black hair to flow freely to her shoulders.

    Iendis leaned against her chains, her grin growing as James met her gaze¡ªor where he guessed her gaze was.

    "Why am I here?" was all he could manage to say.

    "Well, I''ve summoned you of course" Iendis started, her soft voice almost caressing against his ears. James had to resist a shudder. His supposed ''attraction'' towards her was artificial. Not real. She was pushing on his emotions, like some invasive entity that cared little for his real feelings.

    "You don''t think of me like that, do you?" Iendis asked, her lips forming an exaggerated pout. She drifted over to James, the chains on her body slowly growing taut as she floated. "While I can''t read your mind, I can still feel your emotions in this place."

    "You''re manipulative and frankly crazy," James muttered. "You''re also the reason I was summoned here."

    "Is that such a bad thing?" Iendis asked, her grin returning. She positioned herself above James, but the laws of gravity were apparently not a thing in this plane of existence. Her hands reached out to James, who ignored their grasp. "If it weren''t for you, Vindis would be at the bottom of the Black Sea. That or controlled by Deimos of the marauders."

    "First of all, fuck you. Second, Vindis wouldn''t be in any danger if I had never come here," James argued. "Me being here has caused more than enough chaos, even if it all worked out."

    "What a beautiful coincidence, is it not?" Iendis asked with a giggle. "You live the life of a hero, save the city, and begin a search for power! All while my father''s influence is pushed across Azura."

    "Life of a hero?" James asked, barely holding back his anger. "People died. I almost died! And now we have a kingdom breathing down the neck of this entire nation whilst I deal with clan politics and orcs. Not to mention the abominations from last year!"

    Iendis shrugged. "Cost for such a life of excitement, I suppose. I mean, were you really happy back in that shared apartment on Earth? I suppose if I were to ask your old self, he''d be happier to take the chance of going to another world instead of wasting away at that dead-end job."

    James ground his teeth in frustration. "Stop messing with me. Tell me the real reason I''m here."

    "Not the type to waste time, are you?" Iendis asked with a frown. She gently floated down, her bare feet touching the water just slightly, almost like she was walking on its surface. The demi-goddess was a tall being, her form towering over James by a few feet. The young Jarl could have sworn she had been shorter the last time he had conversed with her.

    ''Then again, Thien can change and mold his form. Who''s to say Iendis can''t do the same?''

    "I am here to propose a quest to you," Iendis said, her hand brushing some of her locks back. She had a wide grin on her lips, the visage reminding James of the Sigil of Chaos. That cartoon-like grin and beady eyes. He wondered if that was what Myr looked like in reality. It could probably explain why his children resemble the Chaos drawings, even if only slightly.

    "A quest?" James asked, clearly confused about what the demi-goddess had proposed. This was a first for him. He initially worried that this would be a holy mission of sorts, like the ones cultists enforced out of the need to please their Gods. That worry was soon quelled when he took into what she had said.

    ''She''s proposing a quest to me. Doesn''t mean that I''ll be forced to take it.''

    "What''re you proposing?" James asked, a little more prepared. Iendis only smiled at him, her fingers playing with a tassel of one of her loose bandages.

    "Your quest is to kill Jarl Ivan Falk of the Hawk clan," Iendis said simply. "Do that, and I shall grant you a reward of great power."

    James nearly stumbled out of surprise. He stared at the deity, watching as her expression stayed the same. Even with bandages covering her eyes, James could swear he could feel her pupils focused on his face. He had tried to hide the shock in his expression but failed. And now the Demi-Goddess was reveling in the reaction.

    "Kill Ivan?" James asked slowly. He hoped this was a trick or dark joke of some kind. Instead, he saw a cold resolve in the way Iendis chuckled. She was serious.

    "Why of course," Iendis said, her head cocking to the side as she looked down at him. "He was your enemy, no? He attacked your people and allied himself with Gryff. Killing him seems to align with your interests."

    "You''re joking," James said, his eyebrow twitching in frustration. He had to use all his will not to scream at the deity. "I''m going to meet with the man soon for negotiations."

    "My, what a serendipitous moment!" Iendis said with feigned surprise. "Killing him shouldn''t take much effort then?"

    "Why do you want me to kill him?" James asked. He felt as if he knew the answer to that question. Regardless, he felt his stomach lurch at the thought.

    "Isn''t it simple?" Iendis expressed mocked confusion. She leaned down, face level with James'' own. "You can figure it out, no?"

    ''Chaos,'' James instantly thought. That was the only answer he could come up with. Iendis simply wanted chaos. That was all she and her accursed brother ever wanted.

    ''Killing him wouldn''t do anything, would it? Helen had told me that his men had little faith, and his soldiers were mostly hired bandits and mercenaries.''

    James wasn''t sure if that was true or not. Iendis always had an agenda. Her ordering James to just kill the Jarl seemed simple enough, as simple as assassinations go. Yet if nothing really came from it¡ªoutside of James acquiring the southern territories¡ªwhy would she send him on a quest for it?

    There was something more to this. He knew it.

    ''If I kill him, a war will happen,'' James figured. ''Maybe Helen was wrong, or things have changed in the past year. Ivan''s forces have probably grown in either strength or loyalty. Either way, if I kill him¡­''

    Someone would take over and retaliate.

    A conflict in the south. A small war that spanned across islands. James had heard the stories of the Outsider Wars. He had heard of the brutal tactics and months long sieges that happened throughout the years, all of it draining resources and manpower. Even during the twilight years of the war¡ªwhen the barbarians had retreated¡ªislands were still fought over in the south, the conflict extending for years.

    Even if it were small, James would cause chaos in the south. Something that Myr would wholeheartedly approve of.

    "Please," Iendis said. "Think about it. The reward I offer will be important in the coming years. For when the Graveyard returns."

    "Graveyard?" James questioned. He looked at the Demi-Goddess, who was already starting to float back to the tree.

    "You don''t know, do you?" Iendis asked with a giggle. "Ah, there is so much more you don''t understand, my dear Draugr."

    "Stop with the cryptic shit!" James yelled. He had enough of this. "Tell me! Why do you want me to kill Ivan? What''s the Graveyard?!"

    Iendis paused at his outburst, her expression turning to that of¡­ worry?

    "My dear James," she whispered. "There is a way of doing things. A holy law, you might call it."

    James blinked. That sounded familiar. "Holy law?"

    "Deities such as myself are limited in the ways we can interact with mortals such as yourself," Iendis explained in a soft tone. "Vague quests, heroic prophecies, and, of course, cryptic dreams."

    James recalled the strange dreams he had back during his initial months in Valenfrost. He had already figured out that Iendis had used those to communicate with him and lead him to her island of followers.

    ''She used Thien to peer into my mind. He eats dreams, remember? Changing them up was easy for him.''

    Something, some law of sorts, was keeping the deity from truly speaking directly with him. At least when it came to saying important things.

    ''I remember now. The Holy Law of Interference. Where have I heard that before?''

    "The Graveyard is something that will become relevant in due time," Iendis continued. "As for Jarl Ivan, well¡­"

    James could catch the hint of a smile forming on her lips. That was more than enough to confirm that this quest was nothing more than a way for him to cause more chaos.

    ''But what if that reward is something vital?''

    Iendis did help James, even if that help came at a cost. If the reward she provided was something substantial, then perhaps¡­

    ''No! I can''t lower myself to that level! Not when I know the outcome of what will happen.''

    James wanted to avoid starting another war. Especially if it meant preventing chaos from taking hold in the south. He was going to go against Myr and his ideals. Even if the Mad God and his children had helped him, they were nothing more than beings that had no care for the lives lost in their games.

    James refused to participate in such things.

    "I''m going to leave now," James said coldly. He turned around, his back to the Tree of Fate. He didn''t even take a step before a shadow appeared in front of him. It stood tall, taller than even Iendis. James stared at the anomaly before realizing that the mound of darkness was, in fact, a figure cloaked in black robes. His hood fluttered as it opened to reveal a wax-like face whose beard was like that of sharp bristles.

    There was a grin on Thien''s face, the boatman''s eyes twinkling in the shadows of his hood. James couldn''t speak at all, his voice dying in his throat as the deity began lowering himself. Not into a crouch, no. Thien instead jerked down, like he was tugged down by an invisible force. Before he knew it, the demi-god was face to face with James, his grin full of white blocky teeth. Like the symbol of Myr itself.

    "Not polite to leave without saying goodbye," Thien said with a hoarse voice. "Quite rude, in fact."

    "You guys summoned me here to try and coerce me into playing your games," James responded cooly. In reality, he had to force himself not to react to the sudden appearance of Thien. The boatman, despite being friendly, had a sense of danger emanating from him, like a predator waiting for the moment to pounce on vulnerable prey.

    ''He preys on the dreams of sleeping children, eating whatever hopes and joys he finds and replacing them with nightmares.''

    James internally shuddered at that thought. He''d rather not think of the consequences of angering Thien while still stuck in his own dream.

    "That''s not entirely true," Iendis said. "I am also here to give a warning, my Jarl."

    "Warning?" James asked. He turned to the demi-goddess, watching as she brought out a small pinkish blossom. One plucked from the tree itself.

    "A fate?" James muttered, his heart pounding in his chest. He had seen and experienced the blossoms before, back when he had come to the Tree of Fate. There were no happy memories associated with them.

    "One that bodes a future that comes soon," Iendis warned as she floated closer.

    "Aren''t I supposed to give something in return?" James asked, his eyes still on the blossom. "A payment to the tree?"

    "You''ve paid before," Iendis said. "Paid more than enough times. Now, take the blossom. It shall give you insight."

    "I just want to get out of this," James muttered, his breathing growing heavy and his heart rate quickening. He put a hand to his chest as he stepped back from the blossom. He still remembered the death and destruction he had witnessed the first time. He did not wish to see more of it.

    "There is no price to this knowledge. No quest, no black fates," Iendis whispered. She floated closer, her fingers extending the blossom to James. "Take the warning and do what you will with the knowledge. You don''t even have to accept my quest."

    James did not know what to do. He couldn''t back out, not with Thien looming behind him. Not with Iendis confronting him. No, James did know what to do. The problem was that he had no other choice.

    He touched the blossom.

 B.4 Chapter 24: Dread

    Dahlia stood on Yorktown¡¯s Harbor, her eyes focused on the cloudy sky. Despite it being morning, the day was still dark. Clouds and faint mist filtered the sunlight that had peaked over the horizon, allowing little visibility. Regardless, the harbor buzzed with life.

    Dock workers assisted the crew of Frostbite, preparing the ship for sail whilst also taking cargo out. James had ordered them to clear out the brig¡¯s lower decks, as he wanted to make the vessel light enough to shave off sometime during his trek. Dahlia was fairly certain it wouldn¡¯t make much of a difference.

    It had been three weeks since they had sent out a messenger to Jarl Ivan, who had responded with agreement to the parley. After a couple more messages, both James and Ivan had agreed to a location and date. For a meeting that was bound for tomorrow.

    Dahlia wasn¡¯t sure why, but something had changed in James¡¯ demeanor around the time they had sent those messages. He had a certain hardness in those eyes despite his assurances to the Shaman that he was fine.

    ¡®Just like that one time. Back after we had visited Iendis¡¯ worshippers.¡¯

    James had seen something back on his trip to the demi-goddess, something that not even she knew. Back then, he had told her that he was not allowed to speak of the experience from Iendis¡¯ domain. She wondered if something similar happened to him, possibly during his sleep. Dahlia recalled the stories of Thien, the boatman of Dremor and devourer of dreams. It wasn¡¯t too far-fetched to say that he had infiltrated the young Jarl¡¯s dreams, no?

    ¡®Even if that were the case, I doubt he¡¯d be able to speak about it. Not unlike the last time he had spoken to them.¡¯

    Dahlia felt frustrated at the thought. James was clearly troubled. Clearly nervous. Something was wrong. At first, she initially thought of the meeting with Jarl Ivan, and even attempted to cancel the parley all together. Yet James had stopped her from doing so. He assured her that he needed to meet with the other man. That the clan needed allies.

    That at least confirmed that James wasn¡¯t worried about Ivan.

    ¡®But that brings up another set of questions. What is he worried about? To the point where he feels desperate to ally himself with a man who had once threatened this town?¡¯

    Dahlia almost didn¡¯t want to find out. She had a feeling that this was something that was beyond her. Something that a lowly Shaman shouldn¡¯t poke around in.

    ¡®No. I can¡¯t think like that.¡¯

    Dahlia cared for James. More than that, she loved him. Even if he was caught in the games and conflicts of Gods and Jarls, she would do what she could to help.

    The crowd of people around the harbor slowly parted to allow someone to pass. Dahlia took the chance to peer past them. There, she could see James walking placidly with Horuk and his small squad of orcs. James¡¯ torso was covered in a cloak that draped over his front and back, its material a dark green. Dahlia had stitched him that specific cape, as he had asked her for one. He said it was for ease of use for his weapons and belt, but Dahlia knew that wasn¡¯t really the case.

    Underneath the cloak, Dahlia could see what he was wearing. It was the breastplate of his steel armor, the runes on its edges glowing a soft, almost unnoticeable blue. The armor was stripped of most of its parts, leaving James with limited protection. He had no pauldrons or even gauntlets, and his vambrace was the only indicator that he wore the steel armor underneath the cloak. He had on his dark breeches, his steel-toe boots clacking against the stone harbor. Dahlia could spot his helmet affixed to his belt, the chainmail on it swaying as he walked. If she wasn¡¯t looking for it, she wouldn¡¯t have noticed it.

    ¡®So he is armored, but he¡¯s intentionally hiding it under the cloak. He doesn¡¯t even have the fur collar on.¡¯

    James was walking with Malik and a couple of the guardsmen, Greene and Farin. Both men were honorary Ravens, appointed by and vouched for by Helen herself.

    ¡®Honorary Ravens.¡¯

    The title of ¡®Raven¡¯ for squad leaders had originated sometime shortly before the Battle for Vindis. James had pitched the term to Dahlia then, who had thought it to be a ridiculously childish name. At least until the title had spread around the training grounds as a way to distinguish those who had been fighting for James¡¯ clan during the Battle for Vindis.

    That had caused an effect on the rookies¡¯ training at the time and before Dahlia knew it, Ravens had become an entire section in the guardsmen. The title had spread like wildfire and James had decided to go along with it. Dahlia thought about that as she watched two of the Ravens walk behind their Jarl.

    ¡®Greene and Farin are good men. James will be safe,¡¯ Dahlia thought, assuring herself as she flashed James a smile. The Jarl noticed her, and he flashed a grin in response, his right hand raising for a wave as he walked. Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but chuckle a little at the interaction, her feet moving her in the direction of the clan leader.

    ¡°Your hair is a mess,¡± Dahlia muttered as she bumped shoulders with James. His blond hair was tied up, but the knot was loose, and strands of hair were flowing everywhere. It looked almost disheveled.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t really have time to do it properly this morning,¡± James mumbled an excuse, his hand running to push back some loose bangs. Dahlia sighed at that and stopped him, her feet going on their toes as her hands moved to the top of his head. She undid the knot and regathered his locks, her precise fingers tying it all up. Before they knew it, James¡¯ hair was all neatly tied up, not a single strand loose.

    ¡°Makes me miss my old hair,¡± Dahlia whispered as she rested back on the heels of her feet. She remembered the long hair she once had, back before this craziness had all started. She had done her hair in the style of her late mother, tying it into multiple knots like she had been taught.

    ¡°A simpler time, no?¡± James whispered back, his hands moving to grab hers. Despite the crowd of onlookers nearby, Dahlia couldn¡¯t help but be enveloped in the small moment. She smiled, thinking back to the time they had met. A violent encounter, with her having to knock the otherworldly man out. After that, however, things went quite smoothly. As smoothly as a three day siege could be.

    ¡°Quite simple,¡± Dahlia said with a smile. ¡°Dealing with marauders and monsters. I think we could have handled those fine had it not been for the Lumen Knights.¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± James gave a nervous chuckle. ¡°Things happen.¡±

    ¡°Fate, is it not?¡± Dahlia muttered. She instantly regretted saying it when she saw the way James¡¯ eyes had lost their sense of humor. He didn¡¯t look angry or sorrowful. Just¡­ tired.

    Dahlia frowned but said nothing. Instead, she pulled James¡¯ collar down, her head tilting as she pressed her lips against his. They kissed for a moment, James¡¯ hand squeezing hers as he gently broke it.

    ¡°Time for me to go,¡± he whispered.

    ¡°Come back, please?¡± Dahlia asked in a breath, her face still centimeters away from his. ¡°You can at least promise me that?¡±

    ¡°I always come back. Don¡¯t worry.¡± James chuckled, his mouth forming a smile. ¡°If I don¡¯t, who else is going to protect this town?¡±

    With that, he pulled away and headed off to the harbor¡¯s edge. Dahlia turned to him, watching as James stepped onto the deck bridge. She could see how the rest of the crew waited for him, their movements suggesting that they were prepared to set sail.

    Dahlia watched as James waved goodbye to her, his contagious grin almost glowing despite the low light of morning. She waved back as Frostbite began its voyage, the mist parting as it sailed off. Dahlia stood there, watching the ship for what seemed like hours. By the time it left her line of sight, she could do nothing but stand there.

    For some reason, there was a feeling of dread in her chest.

    <hr>

    James didn¡¯t know how long he had before he went insane. His heart lurched with pain as he thought about Dalia¡¯s smile, her look of worry more than enough to fill him with guilt. He could never tell her why it was vital to get Ivan¡¯s companionship. Nor could he tell her about his interaction with Iendis weeks back. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    He thought back to the memory of carnage and death, the blossom¡¯s future showing him a threat he hadn¡¯t considered important yet.

    ¡®Ah, but I should have known it was going to happen. I just didn¡¯t think I had such little time.¡¯

    Yorktown was going to be ravaged and raided by an entire clan of orcs, all of them led by Blood-Irk. James had expected the orc leader to be hiding out near the Abyssal Sea, Blood-Ohm¡¯s own memories confirming that their clan was at least a month¡¯s sail away. Yet, from what he had seen in that pink blossom, those memories were wrong.

    ¡®He went off south, not east. And he somehow managed to gather a formidable force that¡¯s more than enough to raze the island to ash.¡¯

    Blood-Ohm was manipulated into believing the orc leader was heading east for a retreat. All so his memories would betray the real fact that Blood-Irk was planning something else. It was a move that only meant one horrifying fact.

    ¡®Blood-Irk knows about your abilities,¡¯ Faust said. ¡®He must have figured it out after you sapped that greenskin back in Aldren.¡¯

    James recalled that moment. It was when he had faced off against the orc leader for the first time. He had been stabbed by some desperate orc, and in retaliation, James had used his ¡®drain¡¯ ability on him. Blood-Irk had seen the entire thing and probably interrogated the orc on what happened after.

    ¡®If it wasn¡¯t for Iendis giving me that blossom¡­¡¯

    James shivered at the thought. The fate shown to him was one he would rather not recall. Even if Iendis wanted nothing but chaos, he knew better than to disregard the warning out of spite. All he knew was that he needed to prevent it. The way to do that was to simply get more allies and build his standing in the south.

    That meant securing an alliance with Ivan.

    Frostbite carved through the icy sea with great speed, the winds whipping against the sails as they carried James and his crew closer to Vindis. While the meeting was tomorrow, James hoped to get to Vindis sooner rather than later, just so he and his crew could sleep in proper quarters at their clan¡¯s base.

    The Raven Keep, as called by the thieves and council of the city, was a formidable base built near the Valdora district. Once the Merchant¡¯s Guild and base for the Thieves Guild before it had burnt down during the Midsommar Incident. James had taken over it not long after the event and had funded repairs for it.

    While it wasn¡¯t completely restored, it would do for the time being.

    ¡°Are you feeling alright?¡± a voice called out.

    James turned his head to Dimitri, who was on the quarterdeck with him. The shipmaster had been busy guiding the new wheelman, who was substituting for Liam for the moment. The ginger wheelman had been feeling ill and had decided to rest for the week.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± James answered, brushing off the shipmaster¡¯s worry.

    Dimitri was old, his age showing in the form of gray that peppered his black hair that was swept back. His skin was suntanned, despite the lack of light in Valenfrost, and his beard was more gray than black. James didn¡¯t even notice the new wrinkles that appeared on the man¡¯s cheeks and forehead.

    ¡®He looks so different from the man I met a year ago.¡¯

    ¡°Friend James,¡± Dimitri said, interrupting his thoughts. ¡°May I offer a word of advice?¡±

    ¡°On what?¡± James asked, curious as to what the shipmaster had in mind.

    ¡°I see you worry about the clan,¡± Dimitri said in a low voice that only James could hear. ¡°You¡¯re working yourself too hard, I think. Planning and meeting with all sorts of people. I can see how it affects you.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my duty, Dimitri,¡± James sighed. ¡°As Jarl, I have a duty to the people in my clan. I have to do my best.¡±

    ¡°An admirable quality, of course,¡± Dimitri agreed. ¡°But, I feel as if a break would be beneficial. Take it as you will, but as a humble shipmaster, I, too, come across similar problems. I manage two ships, you know!¡±

    Dimitri let out a chuckle as he patted James¡¯ shoulder. ¡°Men are never easy to control. In my younger years, I commanded ships during the Outsider Wars. I led men to their deaths and transported soldiers to reinforce losing battles. Many times, I had tried to do the impossible.¡±

    ¡°What was that?¡± James asked.

    ¡°To make sure everyone came back alive,¡± Dimitri said softly, his voice losing all the jovial tone it usually had. ¡°I went through eight full crews in my time as shipmaster. Nearly all of those were lost during that war. The men here¡­¡± Dimitri gestured to the ones working the sails. Not even half the crew were from the original men James had hired last Frost. While a select few were back in Yorktown, most had perished during the Battle for Vindis, slaughtered at the docks by Deimos¡¯ men and Lumen soldiers.

    ¡°They¡¯re all remnants. Refugees in a sense,¡± Dimitri explained. ¡°Some came from disbanded crews and others from a life of crime. I am the one who is responsible for them. For their work and, most importantly, their well-being.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± James muttered. He didn¡¯t know where the conversation was going, but he didn¡¯t want to interrupt.

    ¡°But I can¡¯t control everything,¡± Dimitri continued. ¡°Things happen. Raiders, sickness, age, war. People die. Sometimes, you can prevent it. Other times¡­ well, you can only do so much. This is why I encourage the men to relax when possible and to drink to their heart¡¯s content. They know their jobs are dangerous. Most either don¡¯t care enough or accept that it¡¯s a part of life.¡±

    James furrowed his brow. ¡°What are you trying to say, Dimitri?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re young, friend James. Possibly the youngest Jarl I¡¯d ever met. Which is why I say, take it easy,¡± Dimitri said. ¡°You should be spending more time with your friends rather than politics. Especially since you¡¯re not dying anymore. Take a few days off. Go somewhere nice with Dahlia. Which brings me to another word of advice.¡±

    James raised an eyebrow at the shipmaster, who grinned as he leaned in.

    ¡°Marry that girl sooner rather than later. Life is short, friend James.¡±

    He felt his cheeks burn at the suggestion, his eyes breaking contact as they tried to find something to focus on. ¡°Well¡­ I¡­ it¡¯s not that easy.¡±

    ¡°Hm, I doubt,¡± Dimitri chuckled. ¡°Dahlia¡¯s been through more than enough trouble with you. Survived deadly battles and fought for your name. Brought you back to life for Freyja¡¯s sake. I¡¯m not an expert, but I¡¯m sure those actions aren¡¯t of a person who doesn¡¯t love you.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± James muttered. ¡°I¡­ I do love her. It¡¯s just¡­¡±

    Something about admitting his feelings for Dahlia gave him a sense of dread.

    ¡®I¡¯m going to get her killed. I¡¯m like a curse. Anyone who gets too close will eventually suffer because of my actions.¡¯

    Iendis had made it crystal clear that anyone he cared for would be traded over to fate as a consequence every time he avoided death. Just like Harald and Bjorn, back when he avoided his fate a second time.

    ¡®Consequence. I can¡¯t risk the chance of losing her.¡¯

    ¡°Things are complicated,¡± James said finally.

    Dimitri cocked his head at the response but said nothing. After a few more moments of silence, the shipmaster turned his attention to the rest of the crew. He left James alone as he went back to ordering around the ship.

    ¡®Perhaps it is not my place to say something,¡¯ Faust suddenly spoke up. ¡®But do keep in mind that relationships are built on trust. Dahlia already trusts you enough to be safe. I¡¯d say it is fair to return that sentiment.¡¯

    ¡®Have you ever been in my position?¡¯ James asked, his question genuine.

    ¡®More than you know,¡¯ Faust muttered. The spirit did not elaborate after that, and James didn¡¯t prod. He instead looked out into the misty sea, his hand gripping the deck railing tightly.

    There was a sense of dread in his heart.

    <hr>

    Eilif took a deep breath as he stared out into the mists, the moisture in the air fogging his brass goggles. He longed to taste the precipitation but the filter in his mask prevented any getting through. He could only breath in the salt scented air, his damaged lungs taking what they could.

    ¡®It won¡¯t be long until I¡¯m back at full strength.¡¯

    Eilif could feel his body slowly regenerating, his spine sending out waves of healing throughout his flesh. Regardless, it was a painfully slow process. The gaping hole in his chest was finally going through its final stage of restoration despite it being weeks since its infliction. Eilif¡¯s lungs were slowly filling with liquid as the wound healed, his breathing growing ragged. He had to take time out of his day to jab a sharp metal straw through his chest just to drain it.

    It wasn¡¯t that he could suffocate to death. It was more or less an annoying pain that he didn¡¯t want to deal with while he worked. As was every injury he suffered throughout his service. It was part of the job.

    The folks of Farengard didn¡¯t go down as easily as Eilif had thought they would. For one, they had managed to inflict some serious damage on him. They tore his chest open with pitchforks and farming tools, and his left arm was ripped off by some lucky woodsman with a hatchet. Yet it had all been for naught. Eilif had played dead to fool the dolts, to make them unaware that his body was capable of regenerating. He waited and struck when the time was right.

    ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± Kira called out from behind. She sat back against a barrel, her hands flexing as her eyes gazed at the misty sky. Both Eilif and Kira were currently resting on the docks of another outpost they had cleared. This one hadn¡¯t been much trouble, thankfully. The soldiers here had gone down easily enough.

    ¡°I know,¡± Eilif responded. He stood up straighter, his hand ripping the straw out of his chest. His lungs weren¡¯t fully clear of liquid, but it didn¡¯t really matter. There was no more time to waste. The immortal man watched the fog, his gaze picking out the distant silhouette of a ship.

    Their mission was coming to a head.

 B.4 Chapter 25: Jarls and Kings

    The night was unbearably cold, resulting in slick streets and frozen canals. The floating city of Vindis, however, was not a stranger to such conditions. Commotions from all over sounded out, echoing into the night¡ªbrawls, shouts, crashes¡ªall of it nearly unbearable.

    After months of experiencing countless nights like this, James wasn¡¯t sure how anyone got a wink of sleep here. He peered out the window of his room, watching as the dark city was still lit by distant torches and the glow of the distant marketplace. Even during graveyard hours, people still roamed about.

    ¡°Don¡¯t these people have anything better to do?¡± he muttered.

    He was currently in the Raven Keep, as was the rest of the crew he came here with. They all slept in some of the reconstructed rooms, while he stayed in the master room¡ªthe same one that had once belonged to Markov before James had taken it.

    It still felt unreal that he owned the building, as he had once been taken here by the thieves themselves not too long ago. He had also nearly died the same day, Markov¡¯s men nearly executing them all.

    ¡°Crazy times, eh?¡± he muttered more to himself.

    ¡®Quite a place. Much nicer looking than the past places you¡¯ve had to stay at,¡¯ Faust commented. ¡®Cozy, I might add.¡¯

    James looked around the room. The bed was cleanly set with thick red blankets and fluffy pillows that seemed almost too luxurious for his taste. The nightstand nearby had a lit candle on it, and there was a study desk right across from it.

    ¡°Almost too cozy,¡± James admitted. He was more or less used to the discomfort of thin cots and bumpy beds. To sleep on a mattress that didn¡¯t poke at him and arch his back was a foreign feeling. Yet even with his exhaustion and the softness of his bed, sleep eluded him.

    ¡®You¡¯re nervous for tomorrow,¡¯ Faust said.

    ¡°Of course I am,¡± James said. ¡°If I can¡¯t get this alliance to work, then we¡¯re on our own against the orcs.¡±

    ¡®You¡¯re lucky. We¡¯ll get through it just fine.¡¯

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m worried about,¡± James revealed. ¡°I¡¯m worried about the cost of winning.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t the prospect of dying that scared him. No, it was the fear of losing everyone he cared for. To have them ¡®sacrificed¡¯ for a fate he had no control over. Just because it favored him.

    ¡°Why does it care for me?¡± James muttered. ¡°Why does fate think I¡¯m special? Am I destined for something? Something so important that it has to threaten the people I care for? Just so I can live?¡±

    It frustrated him. He didn¡¯t feel favored. He felt cursed. Like he was forced into these situations for no reason other than to torment him.

    ¡®Maybe we¡¯ll find out soon,¡¯ Faust said. ¡®I¡¯m sure there is a reason. There is always a logical answer.¡¯

    James frowned at that but didn¡¯t say anything. He looked out the window once more, his eyes examining the silhouette of brick buildings and wooden structures. As he began to consider trying to sleep once more, a knock came from his door.

    James turned to the sound, his brow furrowing. He looked at the metered candle, its mark signifying that it was late. A little past midnight, actually.

    ¡°Who knocks?¡± he called out a command.

    ¡°S-Sir,¡± a nervous voice called out. ¡°Someone requests you at the keep¡¯s hearth room.¡±

    ¡°Request?¡± James asked. He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Tell them I¡¯m asleep. That I have an important meeting tomorrow.¡±

    There was an air of silence after that. For a moment, James thought it to be done with.

    ¡°Sir,¡± the guard spoke again, surprising him. ¡°This is someone you might not want to turn down.¡±

    ¡°Who is it?¡± James stood from the window, his brow furrowing.

    ¡®I swear if it¡¯s Nora¡­¡¯

    ¡°It is the Redyr Clan¡¯s Frue, my Jarl. Margaret Redyr herself.¡±

    <hr>

    When James arrived at the hearth room, he half-expected to find a thief or even Markov himself playing some prank on him. Instead, he was taken aback by the sight of a lone woman standing by the fireplace. She was clearly elderly, judging by the braided gray hair that rested on her shoulder, but James could¡¯ve been fooled into thinking otherwise. Her face lacked wrinkles, the crow¡¯s feet at her eyes faint, and the laugh lines on her cheeks almost unnoticeable.

    She wore a dark burgundy cape that was swept back to reveal a modest dress. The end of her sleeves and dress skirt were embroidered in silver, and the cloth was a mix of light blue and green. Upon closer inspection, he could see intricate designs woven in the dress, the light of the flames making them stand out.

    Frue Margaret wore a dark wooden crown on her head, its points embroidered by silver filigrees. Silver necklaces with greenish gems accompanied her neck, the air shimmering around them. They were enchanted.

    ¡°Frue Margaret?¡± James asked, almost ashamed that he had come here in less than subpar clothing. He wore a dark green tunic with sleeves and loose breeches that he had clearly tied up in a hurry.

    Margaret turned around with a slight smile, her hands clasped in front of her. ¡°I am glad to see that you¡¯re still awake. However, you should¡¯ve taken the extra time to dress better.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± James apologized with a slight bow. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to keep you waiting.¡±

    ¡°Do not apologize,¡± Margaret said sternly, her face hardening. ¡°Jarls do not apologize. They accept responsibilities, sure. But they do not apologize.¡±

    James blinked but did not say anything.

    ¡°I had heard that you were a¡­ messy man, but I did not expect you to be so barbaric,¡± Margaret sighed as she looked around the room. The bookcases were still scattered, and the ceiling was half burnt. "Yorn wasn¡¯t much better, but at least he showed the traits of a true ruler.¡±

    ¡°You knew Yorn?¡± James asked suddenly. ¡°Yorn Halvorson?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Margaret said with a nod. ¡°He and my husband fought together during the Outsider Wars. They were also the ones who forged the contract that formed the Valenfrost Alliance.¡±

    ¡°Husband, the previous Jarl?¡± James inquired. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Margaret confirmed. She raised her hand to show the silver ring that wrapped around her finger. ¡°Jarl Nikolai Redyr. My late husband.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± James muttered. He had heard about Redyr¡¯s Jarl and how he had passed on years ago. Margaret had taken over his position, naming herself Frue, the female equivalent of Jarl.

    ¡°May I ask why you want to meet with me?¡± James asked. He glanced around, almost nervous. He wasn¡¯t sure if there was an ulterior motive to the visit.

    ¡°That¡¯s the question I want to ask,¡± Margaret said. ¡°You¡¯re the one who called for a meeting with me, did you not? Back when you told off poor Thaddius.¡±

    James cringed at that. He had forgotten about his talk with the ill gnome.

    ¡®Then again, I didn¡¯t mean a meeting in the sense that she would come to me.¡¯ James thought.

    ¡°Sorry, I¡ª¡± He cut off when he saw the Frue¡¯s expression change to annoyance. He backtracked.

    ¡°I had expected some sort of letter or message in response to the request,¡± James said slowly. He saw what looked to be mild acceptance in Margaret¡¯s eyes. It reminded him of his teachers in middle school, back when he had to redo answers on the whiteboard after getting them horribly wrong the first time. They, too, gave off the same look after he gave them a subpar answer. It was the universal symbol of ¡®Good Enough, I suppose.¡¯

    ¡°I do not send messages,¡± Margaret said. ¡°At least, not written ones. I give signs, declarations, and warnings. Thaddius brought a warning. A warning of war.¡±

    ¡°The Lumen Kingdom,¡± James muttered. ¡°I already went through this with him. Retaliation isn¡¯t ideal. Neither is peace negotiations.¡±

    Margaret furrowed her brow at that. ¡°You cannot have both, Jarl Holter. You can either choose to declare war or meet with them to prevent it. There is no middle ground.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re not going leave Valenfrost alone,¡± James argued. ¡°As much as I hate to admit it, peace talks aren¡¯t going to work. They want my head already, and killing their apostle didn¡¯t make things better.¡±

    ¡°So you call for war,¡± Margaret said, almost accusingly.

    ¡°I¡¯m not doing that either!¡± James said in an outburst. ¡°Do you honestly believe I want to start a conflict like the Outsider Wars?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± the Frue said with a shake of her head. ¡°But I know that you cannot avoid starting it if you choose to ignore the Lumen Kingdom. The Vindis conflict is more than enough reason for them to invade.¡±

    ¡°But they haven¡¯t invaded,¡± James pointed out. ¡°There¡¯s a chance that they¡¯ll leave it all alone. That we¡¯re more trouble than it¡¯s worth.¡±

    Margaret frowned at that, her brow furrowing. Her expression softened, and her voice came out in a whisper. ¡°You really are from another world, are you? I had found it almost difficult to believe, especially with how similar you were to him¡­¡±

    James blinked. He noted the way she said ¡®him.¡¯ ¡°What are you¡­?¡±

    ¡°James Holter,¡± Margaret said softly. ¡°You know nothing of our history and culture. You learn and read our history, but you do not understand it. You have little knowledge of how Azura works. How the hearts of men call for violence and glory. The tensions between the Lumen Kingdom and Valenfrost¡¯s clans have gone on for centuries. War might have broken out between the two before, but even that was short-lived. In reality, the Lumen Kingdom has always looked for an excuse to take over the islands. What you did at Vindis, commendable as it was, only gave them a reason to do what they had wanted for decades.¡±

    James stared at the Frue, who looked at him with an expression he guessed was pity. In some way, he couldn¡¯t help but feel helpless at her silent judgment. He was a foreigner. An outsider who had no business going around making bold claims and changes. To her and the rest of the world, he must have seemed like a naive dolt.

    Still, he had no plans of giving in to the cycle of violence. To continue what had ravaged the world these past centuries.

    ¡®No. That¡¯s not why I refrain from it. There¡¯s a much more selfish reason.¡¯

    ¡°I can¡¯t declare war,¡± he said softly. ¡°I¡¯ll lose.¡±

    James knew that he was in no position to wage such a conflict. Not against a Kingdom that had dominated for decades. Not only that, but he had no desire to risk all he cared for.

    ¡°Well, do you really believe that talks with them will work?¡± Margaret asked. ¡°I have tried diplomacy and even I can see that it has little chance of working out for the best. I fear that war might be coming sooner than expected. Especially now that Yorn is dead.¡±

    ¡°What do I do then?¡± James asked. ¡°Do I really fight a losing battle? One that can end with all I love burning to the ground?¡±

    Margaret sighed, her gaze moving to the crackling hearth. Her green eyes reflected the light like emeralds as she stared, her breath coming out in a sigh. ¡°I am not asking you to commit a suicide. I am simply here to give you a warning.¡±

    ¡°That no matter what I do, I¡¯ll lose?¡± James muttered. ¡°That I doomed myself the minute I took Vindis back?¡±

    ¡°In a sense, you could look at it that way,¡± Margaret said. ¡°But I prefer to see it in another way.¡±

    She turned back to meet his eyes, her expression unreadable as the shadows of the hearth danced around her face.

    ¡°You have time to find an answer. Little time, but time nonetheless,¡± she explained. ¡°The Lumen Kingdom has much to figure out before it declares action. I hear that there is infighting amongst the council and that the King is weighing options. Despite the years that had passed, the Lumen Kingdom¡¯s army still isn¡¯t enough to fully conquer Valenfrost. So, at best, we have two years until they garner the strength needed for an invasion. At worst, well¡­ time would be irrelevant, I think.¡±

    ¡°What do you expect me to do?¡± James asked.

    ¡°What you feel is needed, of course,¡± Margaret answered curtly. ¡°Gather a force to fight back or perhaps gain an advantage that could assist in bringing peace. Of course, you could always cut tail and run, but I doubt you¡¯re the type of man who would do such a cowardly act.¡±

    James stared at her, unsure of how to respond. Before he could, however, Margaret continued.

    ¡°Whatever you do, I hope that it is the right choice. Gods know that I cannot make it.¡±

    With that, she walked past James, heading out of the room. Right as she began to call for her guard, James finally found his voice.

    ¡°Why?¡±

    It came out more as an instinct rather than a thought-out response. It worked in catching the Frue¡¯s attention. She turned to him with a look that spelled more intrigue rather than confusion. James stared at her, his hands clenched into fists as he forced himself to speak his mind.

    ¡°Why do you think I¡¯m like him?¡± he asked. ¡°Like Yorn? I know that¡¯s who you¡¯re talking about. Who you mentioned earlier. Why do you think that I can make the choices he made? I¡¯m not important like him. Not even close to strong as he had been. Why? Why am I like him?¡±

    Margaret seemed almost taken aback by the question but the reaction was subdued quickly and a smile appeared on her lips.

    ¡°I am getting old for this. A title of Jarl and Frue is not one for the elderly,¡± she muttered. ¡°I¡¯ve met many of the next generation of clan leaders, most of them not cut out for such work. You, on the other hand, fit almost perfectly into it. Yorn himself wasn¡¯t always the smartest nor the strongest. Yet he had the heart to charge into impossible battles and risk all he could to win.¡±

    James stood in silence for a moment, his frown deepening. ¡°I¡¯m an idiot. A lucky idiot.¡±

    ¡°Luck is always a factor,¡± Margaret said with a soft laugh. ¡°You think Yorn defeated his father with pure skill? That he managed to take what he could with only tactics? Luck plays into everything. Such is the way fate works.¡±

    James had no words. He could only watch as a couple of her guards showed up. They wore the standard taberd over light gambeson, their clan heraldries sown into the light blue cloth. The silver head of a reindeer. Margaret continued to speak.

    ¡°Sometimes, I think Valenfrost is nearing its end,¡± she said with a tired sigh. ¡°That the days of nomads and independent clans are coming to an end. I tell myself it might be for the best. That it will be united under a single banner. Underneath the banner of one of its clans.¡±

    Margaret brushed a couple strands of stray hair away from her eyes. James could see a bit of sorrow in them. ¡°Even if Yorn is gone, I still believe that one of the Jarls will come to claim his place. To reach higher than he had.¡±

    ¡°A King,¡± James muttered. He had a feeling of where she was going with this. Still, he acted as if she was talking about other possible suitors. ¡°You believe that one of the Jarls would rise to be a King? Or Queen, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°Jarls and Kings are the same,¡± Margaret said. ¡°The King of Lumen might hold more than any one Jarl, but I¡¯ve seen Kings that have held less than even Vulpesson itself. No, Valenfrost does not need a King.¡±

    She turned to James, her eyes almost piercing into his. ¡°Valenfrost needs something else. Someone who can keep both Jarls and Kings under their control.¡±

    James took an instinctive step back, his thoughts thinking of one word. Before he could say it, Margaret whispered it to him.

    ¡°It needs a Conqueror, Holter.¡±

 B.4 Chapter 26: Luck (Part 1 of 3)

    ¡°Are you worried?¡± Marion asked.

    Dahlia jumped at the sound of the question, her head swiveling as she turned to look at the walking corpse that had appeared behind her. Marion resembled that of a pale young woman, her blond hair tied into an intricate braid. Her black dress was reminiscent of a funeral dress Azurvalians would adorn their dead. She was anything but dead, unfortunately.

    ¡°Worried?¡± Dahlia asked. ¡°About what?¡±

    Both the Shaman and resurrected cadaver were currently at the new extension of Yorktown, which was slowly coming to a finish. The tall trees that had once bordered the town were now reduced to stumps, their timber used to build the new homes and buildings here. Dahlia, as second in command, was here to oversee it.

    ¡°Master Holter,¡± Marion said. Her voice was monotone, not a single ounce of emotion in it. ¡°You seem to be on edge and, frankly, unfit to commit to your duties.¡±

    Dahlia scowled but held back a biting response. ¡°I¡¯m not worried. Just tired.¡±

    ¡°While that may be true, judging from the sluggish movements, I find that hard to believe,¡± Marion said bluntly. ¡°I can relate in a way. I, too, worry about Master Malik¡¯s endeavor. Despite being accompanied by proper protection.¡±

    ¡°Of course you do,¡± Dahlia sighed. Ever since she had met Malik¡¯s favorite summon, the Shaman had grown to despise her. While most of it was attributed to her unholy nature, Dahlia couldn¡¯t stand her blunt observations and unbearable tone.

    Marion furrowed her brow, a rare sign of emotion. ¡°Master Malik¡¯s life could be in danger. The Outlander who attacked weeks ago is still on the loose. There is a possibility that she is currently targeting him and your precious Jarl.¡±

    That was a valid concern, Dahlia had to give her that. Despite searching the island and vetting ships that were leaving and entering the island, they had found no trace of the Outlander that had infiltrated Yorktown. Not even Malik¡¯s scrying yielded anything useful. The entire situation was strange.

    Yet Dahlia didn¡¯t feel concerned at all. She trusted James in his judgment about the stranger. He, too, was an Otherworlder and had even spoken with her. Dahlia knew that there was no danger from the Outlander.

    ¡°I¡¯m not worried about that,¡± Dahlia muttered.

    ¡°So you are worried,¡± Marion said with a glare. ¡°Does this mean that you are unfit to lead for the moment? Shall I call for Sergeant Dunn?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Dahlia responded, barely holding back the urge to shout. ¡°I¡¯m worried, sure, but I¡¯m not crippled with fear.¡±

    ¡°You love Master Holter, do you not?¡± Marion asked. ¡°So your worry for him is much more of a burden, then.¡±

    Dahlia furrowed her brow as she walked off, her hands behind her back as she roamed about the part of town. Marion followed behind, her gaze still on the Shaman.

    ¡°Well?¡±

    ¡°Well, what?¡± Dahlia asked with a raised eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m not incompetent enough that I¡¯d let my worries fail me.¡±

    ¡°So you ignore the real chance that he might not return?¡± Marion asked, almost confused. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a foolish way of thinking.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s more than that,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°It¡¯s trust. I trust that James will take care of himself just fine. That he will come back home safely.¡±

    ¡°I see now. Is that what you call faith, perhaps?¡± Marion inquired. ¡°I remember hearing about that from Delphine fanatics. Back in my previous body.¡±

    ¡°In a way, it¡¯s similar,¡± Dahlia admitted. ¡°But I¡¯m not having blind faith that he¡¯ll magically return due to some otherworldly powers. No, I trust him because he¡¯s come back from worse.¡±

    Marion paused at that, her walk slowly as she processed the words. The Shaman left her behind, her voice calling back to the undead woman.

    ¡°In other words, I know he¡¯ll come back. Not because he¡¯s unkillable or insanely strong,¡± Dahlia said, a small smile on her lips as she glanced back. ¡°It¡¯s because he has something that he¡¯s kept on him ever since the day he arrived here. Luck.¡±

    <hr>

    James felt Frostbite¡¯s deck lurch as it broke through another wave, sending a spray of the ocean into the air. The crew continued to work around him, uncaring for the movements as they fulfilled their duties.

    A long time ago, James would¡¯ve been sick to his stomach from the constant movements, his legs unable to keep themselves steady. Now, however, after months of sailing, James had finally accustomed himself to the rough sea. His hand still gripped onto the railing, but his legs rarely shook, and his posture was straight as an arrow.

    Regardless, there was still a sense of twisting in his gut. He recalled the night before, specifically the talk with Margaret. She had spoken strangely toward the end of their conversation, giving the young Jarl worry. The Frue had spoken as if an end of things was to come. That feeling was enough to bestow concern on James.

    ¡®Conqueror. She was just talking theoretically, right? There¡¯s no way she insinuated that I would become one, let alone aspire to be one.¡¯

    Still, he had to keep in mind that Redyr was still one of the longer-standing clans. Their rule extended beyond Yorn¡¯s, and their influence was still felt up in the north.

    ¡®I can process this all another time,¡¯ he thought to himself. ¡®Best I don¡¯t stress over this today of all days.¡¯

    ¡°I remember when you couldn¡¯t even handle the ship during a normal cruise,¡± a voice said, cutting through his thoughts. James turned to see Brant grinning at him, the shorter man standing by the ship¡¯s mast. James and his crew picked him up during their brief stop at Vindis, taking him along for the ride as he guided them to the meeting spot. Finn was nowhere to be seen, his place being with Jarl Ivan as a guide.

    ¡°Things change,¡± James said with a small smile. He kept his focus on the shifting sea, watching as the waves rose and fell, rocking Frostbite as a whole. Regardless of the movements, he didn¡¯t worry for the ship¡¯s wellbeing. It had gone through worse, and the crew here had clearly worked with less in much more hazardous conditions.

    ¡°They sure do,¡± Brant chuckled. ¡°I never expected you to do what you did months ago, James. Taking on the marauders and Lumen Kingdom head on? I knew you were crazy, but¡­¡±

    ¡°It just happened,¡± James said with a shrug. ¡°I couldn¡¯t leave the city to burn, not when I was the only one who could do anything. It didn¡¯t feel right to stand by and do nothing.¡±

    ¡°You really haven¡¯t changed that much since the last we met,¡± Brant said with crossed arms. He smiled at the young clan leader, who couldn¡¯t help but return the gesture.

    ¡°You¡¯re excited, huh?¡± James asked. He noted the way the other man glowed, his grin wide as he looked around at the crew. Horuk and his orcs lounged about the ship, and a couple of guardsmen played cards with them as the ship¡¯s crew worked around them. James could even see how one of the men in charge of the sails was taking a break to shoot the shit with them.

    ¡°A proper clan, huh?¡± Brant said with a sigh. ¡°Even back when I pledged my allegiance to you, I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d get to this point so fast. You even look like a proper Jarl.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, but I think I owe it all more to my friends,¡± James admitted. He thought back to the times when he had counted on them to just survive the day. Hell, his biggest victory wouldn¡¯t have been achieved had it not been for Seamus and Dahlia. He owed everything to his friends. To his followers.

    ¡°When this is all over and done, would you like to live in Yorktown?¡± James offered, the question coming out naturally. ¡°Technically, if we make an alliance with Ivan, you won¡¯t have to live outside of the clan¡¯s borders.¡±

    Brant brightened at that. ¡°I¡¯d like that, actually. If you have the room, of course, and a job I can fulfill. I think a guardsman role will fit me fine.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do you one better,¡± James chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll appoint you as a personal bodyguard, although the benefits aren¡¯t that great. Dental¡¯s not included, unfortunately.¡±

    Brant barked a laugh at that, the jovial response soon turning to coughing. He hit his chest with a fist, his grin still there regardless. ¡°Quite the hard bargain you drive. Deal.¡±

    James held out a hand to the other man, watching as he accepted it. Brant¡¯s expression was almost comforting to James. This man had been there at the beginning. He had been one of the first to truly put faith in James and his ideals. The first man who had pledged loyalty to the clan.

    ¡®Trust, eh?¡¯ James thought to himself. He couldn¡¯t help but feel relieved that Brant was still the same as he had always been. It gave him hope that the rest of this day would turn out for the best.

    <hr>

    James had to refrain himself from vomiting into the sea, his fist moving to cover his mouth as he held back a burp. He watched as a couple men rushed to the railings, their puke hitting the waters below.

    ¡°I¡¯m guessing this is the power of a rune gate?¡± Brant managed in between breaths as he leaned over the railing himself. He was barely holding himself together. James turned to the rear of the ship, where a portal had been ripped into the fabrics of reality. Its edges shimmered with visible runes, and the water around it sizzled in response to the magic.

    Malik stood at the quarter-deck, his hands raising as he formed runic symbols with his hands. He slowly lowered his arms to his sides, the portal¡¯s structure faltering as he did so. A moment later, it disappeared. The only trace it left was the smell of burnt wood and the twisting feeling in everyone¡¯s guts.

    ¡°Why can I never get used to that?¡± James managed out with a painful grunt. He had to use the mast as an anchor to keep himself standing.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the exact science, but¡­¡± Malik held back a gag as he stumbled to the railing. He seemed to take it better than everyone, but the gate still had an effect on him. ¡°It has something to do with traveling through the void in between realms.¡±

    ¡°Like Thien?¡± James asked, the question leaving him in a quiet burp. ¡°I know he travels through the realms with his boat.¡±

    ¡°In a sense,¡± Malik agreed with a nod. ¡°But I feel as if he has a protective aura of some kind when he uses it. Either that, or he cares little for those he takes on his rides.¡±

    James felt like the latter option made sense, but he disregarded that. He had gotten dizzy from his ride in the demi-god¡¯s boat, but his stomach didn¡¯t feel as if they were turned inside out and set on fire. He guessed that Thien could only do so much to protect mortals during one of those boat rides. After all, reaching a speed that could cross into other dimensions was bound to have serious consequences on the human body. Perhaps dizziness was more of a mild symptom that couldn¡¯t be avoided. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s all take a short break,¡± James called out to the crew, who were all disoriented and stumbling about. Even the more seasoned men were having trouble with their bearings. ¡°This is going to subside in just a minute, so let¡¯s all calm for a minute.¡±

    While this wasn¡¯t the first time he had been through a gate, James was still far from getting used to the effects. It had been particularly bad on his first time, back when he had ventured out to take back the city of Vindis. Back then, everyone had to take a few minutes before they could even walk straight.

    ¡®Well, it¡¯s not as bad as back then. So maybe something¡¯s improved,¡¯ the spirit said.

    James shrugged at Faust¡¯s comment and rested on the deck with a deep breath.

    It didn¡¯t take long for the crew of Frostbite to get back to work, the ship making headway toward its destination. With any other ship, the distance to the meeting spot was roughly a week¡¯s journey if one were to go straight from Yorktown. The distance would have been shortened greatly if one had started at Vindis, which was why they had all opted to bring the vessel as close as they could to the meeting before using Malik to activate the Gate Runes.

    While extremely useful, Gate Runes required a caster with significant reserves to use properly. Malik wasn¡¯t a pushover when it came to those, but James still wanted to decrease the cost for him. Just in case the necromancer needed the extra reserves to cast lifesaving spells.

    The meeting spot, in general, was a spot in the middle of the south, owned by no one and patrolled by neither clan. It was a neutral area in Valenfrost, perfect for a meeting between two Jarls.

    James was worried at first that he wouldn¡¯t be able to find the spot, but those worries subsided when he saw a lone ship floating ahead, its sails sporting the symbol of a flying hawk. James instantly recognized it, recalling a similar sight back when this same ship had arrived at Yorktown¡¯s docks. He was surprised that he still remembered the vessel¡¯s name.

    ¡°Talon, right?¡± James said as they approached the ship. Brant stood next to him at the bow, his head nodding at the statement.

    ¡°Seems like they brought the crown jewel of their fleet,¡± he commented.

    ¡°Crown jewel?¡± James couldn¡¯t help but mutter. Talon looked like a decent longship, but it was smaller than Frostbite and had less care taken. The sails were ripped, and the hull¡¯s paint was faded. It was beginning to dawn on him that Ivan might be worse off than he himself.

    Frostbite headed slowly toward the other ship, the crew raising sails to slow it. By the time it reached Talon, the brig was basically being carried by the movements of the waves. Brant stepped up to the starboard side, his hands waving as the men on the other ship confirmed that they were friendly. After a moment, ropes were thrown on both sides and the two vessels were drawn together.

    A deck bridge later, and James was standing near the railing, watching as Talon¡¯s crew all dispersed to allow him and his small group of soldiers to approach.

    ¡°Greene, stay behind and watch over the ship,¡± James ordered. ¡°Farin, you and two of your men are coming along.¡±

    Both men nodded and they separated to follow through on the instruction. James felt a bit of pride at how quickly and efficiently they organized, Greene¡¯s squad moving to formation as Farin¡¯s squad split up. Before long, James¡¯ group was a sizable six men. Himself, Malik, Brant, Farin, and two of his squadmates. James struggled to remember their names.

    ¡®Trelade and Oscor,¡¯ he recalled. They were amongst the recent of the guard, the ones that had joined after midsommar.

    With a nod, James turned forth and made his way to Talon. The bridge creaked as he put his weight on it, the sound enough for James to make a slight mistake. He looked down on instinct, seeing the swirling waters that lapped between the two ships. That sight and the bridge¡¯s creakiness were almost enough to make him rethink his choices.

    ¡®You got this far. Best we don¡¯t squander it all over some fear of heights,¡¯ he thought as he forced another step. James took the lead to Talon portside, his men slowly following in single file. Malik was right behind him, his muttering unintelligible. James could guess he was saying some colorful things about the state of the ship they were getting on.

    He decided to focus instead on the men on the other side of the deck bridge. They all looked tired and gaunt, their gear ranging from padded tunics to none at all. There was a sense of pity about them.

    James patted at his own armor. He still wore the enchanted cuirass that Rockford had repaired for him. It hummed as he pressed against the poncho he wore over it, the magical runes vibrating like electricity.

    ¡®Maybe it¡¯s overkill,¡¯ he thought as he eyed the men aboard the other ship. Amongst the unfamiliar faces, James spotted Finn. He was at the lead of a well-armed group, his tabard flapping in the wind as he waited.

    James was silent as he finally crossed, his eyes scanning through the men Finn led. They weren¡¯t any better dressed than their other comrades. However, they did carry themselves with a better posture and an air of confidence. At their center, he spotted him.

    Jarl Ivan Falk wore a gold trimmed black cloak that covered most of his torso, his clan¡¯s symbol pinned on his collar. The Hawk. He wore a small golden band that twisted and curved around his head, the symbol of a true Jarl.

    Ivan was not as old as presumed but he clearly wasn¡¯t living through the days of his youth. Despite having black hair that had little to no grays, he was balding. His goatee was trimmed to a simple soul patch, his gaunt cheeks insinuating that he had either gone days without eating or sleeping. Perhaps both, actually.

    His face was also gnarled in a way that surprised James. It was like someone had forcibly shaped his face in a poor attempt to replicate a Van Gogh painting. More than that, Ivan looked tired. Exhausted. Black bags hanging underneath his eyes.

    ¡®Christ. What kind of stress has he gone through these past months?¡¯ James thought as the men finally crossed over. Jarl Ivan straightened himself as the rest of the group finally stepped down onto the deck, his dark eyes watching James as he patted his clothes down. Underneath the cloak he wore, James spotted a standard green tunic with a chainmail shirt placed over it. He came prepared and protected but not to the extent as James.

    Regardless, he didn¡¯t even seem worried about the armed men that accompanied James.

    ¡°I take it that you¡¯re Jarl James Holter?¡± Ivan asked. James nodded.

    ¡°This ship is a floating piece of work, right?¡± Ivan said with a sigh as he looked around the deck. James followed his gaze, spotting scurrying rats and men who were clearly sick to an extent. ¡°No matter. Not like I¡¯m any safer on my own terms. Not with all those orcs and men you have with you.¡±

    ¡°Well, with any luck, there won¡¯t be any danger tonight,¡± James said with a nervous chuckle. Ivan didn¡¯t react to that. ¡°Let us get to the captain¡¯s quarters, then. I suppose I¡¯ve kept you waiting long enough.¡±

    <hr>

    James couldn¡¯t shake off the feeling of nervousness as he sat across from Jarl Ivan. The older man seemed¡­ drab. Like his soul was deprived of emotion. He sat with a slouch, his eyes wandering around as the men filed into the room. It was bare, with little to no furniture or windows. In fact, the only things here was the nailed down table and chairs that James and Ivan sat upon.

    Finn and Brant stood nearby behind James, positioned to his right whilst Malik and Farin were positioned to the Jarl¡¯s left. James glanced at the two men on his right, where Brant flashed a genuine smile. Finn, on the other hand, ignored the gesture with a dejected sigh.

    ¡®Brant really has faith that this is going to work, huh? Well, let¡¯s not fail him.¡¯

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s get to work, shall we?¡± James said as he turned back to the Jarl before him. He had to force a smile, doing his best to ease up the tension in the room.

    Jarl Ivan simply nodded, his focus now on the younger clan leader. He was still as a statue, his fingers tapping on the table as he stared. James took that as an invitation to speak.

    ¡°I¡¯ll start with a proposition,¡± he said with as much confidence as he could muster. He needed to show the men here that he wasn¡¯t just some nervous Jarl who had no clue what he was doing. Then again, that was a half-truth. James wasn¡¯t sure what he was really proposing. All he knew was that it was vital for him to gain some help from Falk in order to repel an orc invasion. An invasion that only he knew about.

    ¡®This will probably be harder than I thought.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯m willing to work out a truce of sorts regarding the events that transpired last time our forces met,¡± James started. ¡°I can look past the deaths it resulted, as both sides suffered casualties. The alliance with Gryff is a problem, however.¡±

    Jarl Ivan raised an eyebrow at that but did not say anything.

    ¡°I¡¯m concerned that you may have also collaborated with enemies of mine. I want to make sure you haven¡¯t had any dealings with the Lumen Kingdom or the Marauders of the North,¡± James said, his chest tightening a little. Ivan had no reaction. That was normal, right? He had nothing to hide, so he wasn¡¯t really worried. So why did it feel wrong?

    ¡°To cut to the chase, I¡¯d like my appointed Wizard here to strike a temporary pact between the two of us,¡± James had to snub the fact that Malik was a necromancer. He knew of the bad reputation that was associated with the profession and how it usually made or broke relations.

    ¡°Only for a few minutes, and the condition is that we won¡¯t be able to lie to each other,¡± James revealed. ¡°Better for the both of us if we¡¯re transparent with each other. Don¡¯t you agree?¡±

    Ivan said nothing. He only sat back against his chair, a long and tired sigh escaping from his lips. He was silent and still for a few seconds before he brushed his hair back. James caught a glimpse of cold hatred in those dark eyes of his. It was there for only a moment.

    ¡®This doesn¡¯t bode well,¡¯ Faust murmured.

    ¡®We need to get out of here,¡¯ James responded suddenly. He could feel his left hand twitching in response to the random thought, his instincts on high alert. Before he could even act on it, Ivan finally spoke.

    ¡°Where is Seamus Halvorson?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± James said with genuine surprise. He hadn¡¯t expected that question.

    ¡°Where is Seamus Halvorson, last son of Yorn Halvorson?¡± Ivan asked again, his tapping stopping. ¡°I was to believe that he was your ally? Did he not come to this meeting to oversee it?¡¯

    ¡°No,¡± James responded. He narrowed his gaze at the Jarl, whose expression darkened. Ivan was silent for only a few seconds, but it felt like forever for James. Finally, he let out a breath of frustration. He then muttered to himself, his eyes darting to the ground. It was hushed, angry whispering. Directed at nothing.

    Ivan¡¯s guards didn¡¯t even react to it. They simply shifted uncomfortably, their gazes avoiding the Jarl as he cursed at thin air. James strained his hearing and caught a small snippet of what Ivan said.

    ¡°I¡¯m not doing that¡­ Not my job¡­¡±

    ¡°Jarl Falk,¡± James said. The simple call was enough to make Ivan go still. The Jarl grabbed at his right wrist, his gloved hand clenching hard as he gritted his teeth.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t agree with anything you said,¡± Ivan said. He locked gazes with James, his face contorted into anger. ¡°You are a deceiving, filthy, Outlander. Who knows nothing of the plights and struggles of Valenfrost and its people.¡±

    James recoiled back at the sudden change in tone. Ivan¡¯s eyes flashed hatred as he stared, his voice deepening.

    ¡°You parade yourself as a Jarl despite having no claims,¡± he announced. ¡°No allies other than the monsters you command and the men you forced into a truce. You, James Holter, are a parasite. And I have no qualms about getting rid of such filth.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Brant suddenly called out, stepping up to James¡¯ side. ¡°The hell is this?¡±

    James quickly raised a hand to stop the man. He turned back to Ivan, his heart beginning to beat harder. He needed to leave.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to take my leave from here, Falk,¡± James said, trying to make himself seem calm. ¡°If you try to stop me¡­¡±

    ¡°This is idiotic!¡± Brant shouted. ¡°Ivan, you are a fool to deny Holter¡¯s truce!¡±

    ¡°Brant, I¡ª¡± James was interrupted. Something hot splattered against his right cheek, his voice dying in his throat. He stopped in place, his eyes widening as the sounds of gurgling echoed out into the room. He slowly turned to his right, seeing Brant stumble around. He was holding onto his throat, scarlet blood leaking through his fingers. Finn stood nearby, left hand bearing a stained dagger.

    The world seemed to stop there. Seconds passed like hours as James processed what had happened. Confusion and shock was the primary emotion. Then came the anger.

    James could only remember his hand unsheathing the sword at his side. He threw his chair back as he stood, his hands bringing the weapon up. Before he could even use it, the soldiers in the room mobilized.

    All hell broke loose.

 B.4 Chapter 27: Luck (Part 2 of 3)

    Thorkel Greene rested against the mast of the ship, his gaze on Talon. The longship was bigger than most, sure, but it seemed like more of a boat compared to the brig Frostbite. The men on board didn¡¯t seem much either, their gear shoddy and unkempt. While they were technically equal in strength compared to Jarl Holter¡¯s entourage, Greene had no doubts that they would be nothing but fodder if a fight truly broke out.

    ¡°They¡¯re going to be in there for some time,¡± Dimitri, the shipmaster, commented nearby. He was busy struggling to get a bottle of mead open, his expression of effort signifying that he was losing the fight. Greene shrugged.

    ¡°If Ivan¡¯s wise, then he¡¯d agree to any term James gives him,¡± Greene said in a low mutter so as to not allow the other soldiers to hear. Ivan had nothing to offer outside of land and loyalty. Greene knew this well. He had served the Bastard Jarl before his current job title. In fact, Greene had been one of the men who had surrendered during the Battle for Yorktown. He had earned his place in the Raven clan not long after when he told all he knew of Ivan.

    ¡®Been some time. I wonder if the men here even know me,¡¯ Greene thought. He knew better, however. These men were fresh recruits. He could see it in the way they loosely held together, their formation lacking any order. They were very new to the life of a soldier and certainly wouldn¡¯t have been around the year prior. Greene was just another face to them.

    ¡°Horuk,¡± Greene muttered, his gaze turning to the massive orc that sat down by the bow. He looked terribly bored. ¡°Do you want to run another game of cards? Kill some time before¡ª¡±

    ¡°SUMMON ICE!¡±

    An ethereal voice boomed from the inside of the longship, the vessel rocking as sharp tips of ice suddenly pierced the roof and hull of where the meeting was taking place. Greene stumbled back out of surprise, watching as the men on Talon exchanged glances.

    ¡®Shit.¡¯

    ¡°Code Red!¡± Green shouted at his men, reciting the warning signal Holter had taught him. He watched as everyone on Frostbite scrambled to get their weapons, their movements done so more out of panic rather than practiced resolve. He even saw the orcs struggle to react in time, their large hands fumbling axes and clubs. Regardless, the men around him rallied up quickly, much faster than the men on Talon.

    ¡°Horuk!¡± Greene called out to the orc, who was already rushing to starboard. ¡°Get your orcs and extract Holter! We have to get him out now!¡±

    Before any of them could even act on the plan, a maniacal laugh cut through the air like a wraith¡¯s chill. Everyone froze. The laughter was coming from above, and Greene had to force himself to look up.

    A woman covered in a flowing black cloak stood upon Talon¡¯s crow¡¯s nest, her hair whipping against the wind. She looked down at them, her expression unreadable from a distance. Yet Greene knew that she was grinning. He could even see how her gaze burned with a fierce purple, almost as if her sockets were smoldering with a cursed flame.

    ¡°It seems like the time has come!¡± the woman called down in a giggle. ¡°I hope you¡¯re all ready!¡±

    With the last word, the stranger pushed herself off the nest. Greene moved to shout an order but stopped when something slashed at the side of his neck. He stumbled, his hand moving to cover it. At first, he thought one of the enemy soldiers had crossed the deck bridge, but he disregarded that. The men were still on their ship, dumbfounded at the appearance of the woman.

    Green looked at his men, half of whom were sent back with long slashes across their faces and torsos. All from what seemed like invisible blades.

    ¡®What the fuck is happening?¡¯

    He never got to find the answer to that question, as the woman reached him first. The last thing Greene saw was her crazed smile and star-shaped pupils.

    There was then a line of red-hot pain across his chest, and he was thrown back.

    <hr>

    James panted heavily as he straightened himself, the left side of his face covered in a light frost. The entire half of the room in front of him was covered by a wall of ice spikes, blocking off the rest of Ivan¡¯s men and hopefully buying them more time.

    ¡®Are you insane?¡¯ Faust asked. ¡®That was nearly HALF of your reserves! You¡¯re now down to three castings, for Caelus¡¯ sake!¡¯

    ¡®Shut the fuck up, Faust! Now¡¯s not the time!¡¯

    His Alert skill blared with magical warning, signifying to the Jarl that the danger had not passed. James turned around to meet with Finn, who had his dagger raised for a strike. The Jarl felt cold anger surge through him as he raised his short sword, quickly blocking the attack from the traitor. Sparks flew from the contact of blades, the speed surprising Finn. With a smooth motion, James raised his boot and kicked the man back against the wall of the cabin. Before Finn could even react, the Jarl swung down.

    His blade found purchase within the man¡¯s left wrist, whose gripped dagger dropped to the ground. Finn screamed in pain as James ripped the sword out, more blood speckling his cloak. A cold, almost sinister part of him wanted to keep going, to cleave this traitor¡¯s head in half out of revenge for Brant. Yet he refrained himself, barely.

    ¡®Need to get out. Get to Frostbite.¡¯

    James kicked the dagger away and left Finn to writhe in pain. He turned to face Malik and the rest of his guard, all of whom watched the entire encounter with bewilderment. James opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. His Alert skill was still tugging at him, its magical alarm screaming within his own head despite the fact James had dispatched Finn.

    ¡®Unless there¡¯s someone else here.¡¯

    A figure emerged from the shadows. He came from the rear of the cabin, right hand equipped with a spear. He rushed toward the necromancer too fast for James and or any of the men to even react. Malik didn¡¯t even have time to form a rune with his hands before the spear made contact with his chest. It ran through him despite the gambeson he wore underneath.

    ¡°No!¡±

    One of the men, Trelade, finally reacted, his sword unsheathing as he rushed the assassin. The stranger jumped back from Malik with surprising speed, his hands equipping two daggers. James moved in to help, his sword pointed forth. He went for a thrust at the same time Trelade had swung his weapon down. Both attacks landed.

    The assassin grunted as swords impaled his body, one piercing his left shoulder as another hacked into his neck. Yet, despite the wounds, he moved. James quickly pulled his sword back, avoiding a slash from the other dagger in time. Trelade was not so lucky, as his blade was stuck inside the stranger¡¯s flesh.

    James watched in horror as the assassin¡¯s rightmost dagger rammed into the underside of Trerlade¡¯s chin, jolting him violently. The guard let out a terrible gurgle of pain, his eyes widening with shock. He fell back in a stumble, leaving his sword in the other man¡¯s neck.

    ¡°NO!¡± Farin shouted as he stepped forward, sword at the ready. Oscor joined with him and both men were prepared to rush the assassin. Yet the man in black did not seem to care about them. He instead backed off, his right hand reaching into his clothes. With a quick motion, the assassin took out a smooth gray stone, its face glowing with a purple glyph. Rune.

    ¡°Arcane Bolt.¡±

    The spell launched forward before anyone could react. However, it missed both Farin and Oscor. Instead, the projectile struck the ice barrier James had formed earlier. It struck the summoned wall with a sizzling crack. Ice shattered and the barrier fell. Ivan¡¯s men rushed through the opening not even a second later to attack Farin and Oscor.

    ¡°Shit!¡± James cursed.

    Time seemed to slow down then. James quickly took in the situation, doing his best to weigh options. Malik was already on his knees, blood pooling underneath him. Oscor and Farin were currently outnumbered five to two. The assassin also seemed to be someone who couldn¡¯t be killed easily, judging from the sword jutting from his neck.

    One second passed.

    Farin and Oscor clashed with the soldiers, their swords fighting against spears. They were at a disadvantage, regardless of gear quality and training. They were not likely to win. Yet James knew that Malik was their only way out of this. He also knew that the man who had stabbed him was a far greater threat. So he made a choice.

    Two seconds.

    He equipped his helmet and turned to the assassin, who stood eerily still in the middle of the room. He stared at James quizzically, his head tilting. Underneath the hood he wore, James could see a strange mask. It was made with brass goggles that reflected with black glass, the mask¡¯s faceplate bearing a carved grin of Myr.

    The assassin did not show any signs of pain as he reached up to wrench Trelade¡¯s sword from his neck. He acted as if was nothing more than a splinter, the wound a mere inconvenience. James felt paralyzed with a fear he didn¡¯t think he¡¯d ever feel again. That fear only increased when he looked into the assassin¡¯s goggles once more.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡®I know him.¡¯

    James felt his blood run cold as he recognized this stranger. This man had been there during the Battle for Vindis. He had accompanied the Lumen soldiers during his raid on their base of operations.

    ¡®Bounty Hunter? Hired assassin? What is he?¡¯

    James quickly disregarded those questions. He instead focused on the situation at hand.

    He needed to get out of here, preferably with Malik. If the necromancer was still alive.

    ¡°Best you die with dignity,¡± the assassin called out, catching James¡¯ attention. His voice was rough, as if he had been washing the back of his throat with tequila for the past twenty years. ¡°We both know that you¡¯re not getting out of this alive.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± James forced himself to speak. ¡°I¡¯ve been through worse.¡±

    The assassin prepped the sword he had taken out of his neck, its tip aimed at James. James narrowed his gaze, ignoring the fighting around him. Focus was key here. It was what decided between life and death here.

    James was the first to attack. He swung his blade toward the assassin, who directly caught the strike with a parry. A slash later and James¡¯ cloak was sliced open, revealing his steel armor underneath. The assassin continued his assault, his dagger and sword swinging. James only managed to block the sword, the dagger leaving another slash on his arm. This one only damaged gambeson and failed to leave a wound, however.

    Using this chance, James pushed. He shoved the other man back, sword held tightly in his hand as he swung again and again. The assassin did little to block, his body taking slash after slash. Tar-like blood speckled all over, staining James¡¯ blade and his clothes. Despite the wounds, however, they did little to affect his opponent.

    James saw how blood leaked and soaked clothes, the dark crimson pooling at the man¡¯s feet. Yet there was no reaction. He only stared at James with a look that showed more emotion than it had any right to.

    ¡°Shadow Bind!¡±

    James recoiled in surprise when a dark mist wrapped around the assassin¡¯s torso and limbs, holding him in place. Right behind him was Malik. The necromancer had ripped the spear out of his chest, the weapon lying broken on the floor. He was on his knees, blood staining the wooden deck as he formed runes with shaking hands.

    ¡°I got you now asshole!¡± Malik shouted with manic amusement in his tone. He was grinning despite the blood coagulating around his nose and lips. ¡°I am not so easy to kill!¡±

    ¡°Neither am I,¡± the assassin said. He didn¡¯t even struggle against his binds.

    James took another look at Malik, his eyes focusing on the man¡¯s wound. It no longer bled. In fact, it actually emitted smoke.

    ¡®Did he fucking cauterize the wound? How?¡¯

    ¡®No time for that!¡¯ Faust warned. ¡®Malik¡¯s buying time! Finish him off and get to Farin and Oscor!¡¯

    James gritted his teeth and stepped forward, sword raised as he stared the assassin down. He needed to put this man down for good. He had an instinctual hunch that a simple stab to the heart wasn¡¯t going to do anything.

    ¡°Power Strike!¡±

    James felt his body tense as he swung at the bound man¡¯s head. His sword sliced through with ease, cutting through neck flesh and decapitating the assassin. His head fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the body instantly going limp. James had to hold back the urge to gag as dark blood spattered over him.

    ¡®So dark¡­ is he even human?¡¯

    Malik¡¯s Shadow Bind instantly dispelled right after, and James was treated to the sight of the assassin¡¯s corpse crumpling into a heap. The sight would¡¯ve haunted him a year ago, yet now it only gave James a passing feeling of nausea.

    ¡®Get to the men, now!¡¯ Faust ordered, his Centurion side coming out in full force.

    With a nod to Malik, James turned to the skirmish that was happening to his right. The men were still going strong, thankfully, but it was clear that the battle was slowly turning ugly. James quickly rushed to the fray, nerves steeled as he raised his weapon.

    <hr>

    ¡°This isn¡¯t good,¡± Horuk grunted as he stood up straight, his focus going to chaos that was happening in front of him. Crew members and soldiers fought against Ivan¡¯s men, the deck becoming slick with blood. Yet most of the deaths weren¡¯t from the fight. No, it was the result of the mad woman killing all she saw.

    Horuk shifted his focus to the red, angry wounds that bled from his chest. That woman had some sort of spell or magical ability to summon invisible swords, their edges cutting down anyone she could see. Thankfully for the orc, his hide was more than thick enough to take anything she threw at him. He couldn¡¯t say the same for the crew, however.

    Men died brutally, and their attempts at fighting did nothing to stop the bloodthirsty creature rampaging around Frostbite¡¯s deck. As the orc finally got his bearings, another man died near him. His head whipped back with a nasty cut that hacked through his face. His body fell to the deck in an unceremonious thud.

    ¡°No!¡± Horuk shouted. The man was no warrior. He had been a simple crewmate whose job was to navigate. He wasn¡¯t even attempting to fight, just survive. The orc stepped forth in anger, his club raising as he rushed the woman who was busy sending her invisible slashes to another.

    He swung his crude weapon, its blunt end whistling as it flew toward her head. The woman saw it coming in time, however, and the weapon was reduced to splinters. Horuk recoiled back in shock, his eyes widening at the sudden attack. The woman stared at the orc with a disinterested look, her hand raising to him. Three deep cuts were made on Horuk¡¯s flesh, sending him falling back.

    With that, the woman turned away and continued to cut men into pieces. She was even targeting Ivan¡¯s men, her cuts and slashes knowing no ally. As such, none were safe.

    Horuk panted as he arose, his torso becoming marred in blood. This was an opponent he hated. She couldn¡¯t be caught, as her speed was too much for the orc. She had ranged attacks that were invisible, making it impossible to counter them. And most annoyingly, Horuk could do nothing to save those she was targeting.

    Another man fell, a soldier from Greene¡¯s squad. Right after him, one of Horuk¡¯s own followed.

    The orc slammed a frustrated fist onto the deck, his anger boiling. He was useless and couldn¡¯t do anything meaningful enough to fight this woman.

    ¡°Friend orc!¡± a voice called out behind him. Horuk turned and saw a wounded man stumble from behind the mast. He had taken one of the slashes, but the wound itself was shallow. He was lucky.

    ¡®What was his name? Ah yes, Dimitri.¡¯

    ¡°Run to the lower decks,¡± Horuk breathed out. ¡°You¡¯re only going to get yourself killed up here.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense,¡± Dimitri said with grim resolution. He no longer wore the jovial grin he had once before. ¡°I¡¯m not going to cower.¡±

    ¡°Then you are a fool,¡± Horuk snarled as he stood. He felt dizzy. Had he really lost that much blood?

    ¡°Maybe, but so are you for trying to fight her with the same tactics,¡± Dimitri pointed out.

    ¡°You have a better idea?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡± Dimitri said with a cough. Blood stained his lips.

    ¡®Maybe the wound isn¡¯t as shallow as I assumed.¡¯

    ¡°Get to James, now! If anyone knows what to do, it is him!¡±

    ¡°How do you know he¡¯s not dead already?¡± Horuk asked. This ambush stank of Ivan¡¯s interference. If that bastard of a Jarl was smart, he would have had James killed first.

    ¡°Because he¡¯s not!¡± Dimitri exclaimed. ¡°You have to get him. You have to save him! Please!¡± the shipmaster stumbled to the ground, his breathing growing heavy. ¡°My men are dying! James is the only one who can save them!¡±

    Horuk furrowed his gaze but did not argue. Instead, he turned to Talon, where more soldiers rushed around. Some went to Frostbite, whilst others rushed to the cabin where the meeting was to take place. If he was alive, then Horuk had no other choice.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try and retrieve him. If anything, we might be able to get that necromancer back,¡± the orc said. Dimitri nodded at that.

    ¡°Good! Do that! Hurry!¡±

    Horuk didn¡¯t have to be told that. He was already mid-sprint when the shipmaster had called for him to hurry.

    <hr>

    James fought off another of Ivan¡¯s men with a grunt of effort, his short sword cutting the wooden shaft of the spear. His opponent stared at the sudden change of events, his eyes widening as he attempted to draw his backup sword. James didn¡¯t let him. With a shout, the young Jarl lunged and swung at the man¡¯s hand. Flesh was torn, and a scream of pain accompanied the sound of bones breaking. James¡¯ sword had promptly torn through the soldier¡¯s right hand, disabling him and giving the clan leader a chance to finish the fight quickly.

    James stepped forward and ripped his weapon free, his arms burning with exertion as he shoved the blade through the cheap padded tunic the man wore. It pierced like butter, the recently imprinted runes on his sword flaring as it bypassed cloth and flesh. With a burst of strength from Faust, James twisted his sword¡¯s pommel, his steel blade audibly breaking ribs and spurting more dark blood from the wound. His opponent¡¯s screams were silenced soon after, his body going limp. Regardless, James knew he would never be rid of the sounds ever again.

    ¡®Two down! Three more to go!¡¯ Faust said.

    James huffed as he wrenched his sword out and stepped away from the crumpling dead man, his gaze moving to the rest of the group. Farin and Oscor were at their limits, their weapons bloodied as they fought. Their neat stances and tactics had gone out the window some time ago, and now they fought like savages. They kicked and slashed, their clothes and armor stained and ripped. James had a hard time picking them out in the fray of only five men.

    ¡®We can get out of this¡­ Everything will be fine,¡¯ he thought as he took a few tentative steps.

    ¡°Carapace,¡± James casted with a huff. The familiar blanket of magical energy enveloped him a second later, the scent and taste of fruit accompanying him like an old friend. He raised his weapon, its edge dripping with blood, as he prepared for another fight.

    He stopped when he heard footsteps coming from behind. James turned around and expected to see the necromancer joining in. Instead, he was met with a sight that sapped the hope from him.

    Malik lay on the slick floor, sword in his back and his eyes blank. Above his body was the man he had thought dead. The assassin was no longer headless. He, in fact, rotated his neck, his goggles reflecting the sparse light as he did so. The mask he wore covered all of his head. It wrapped around his skull like a balaclava, the black cloth expensive-looking. Like it was made from silk. James wasn¡¯t sure why he focused on that part. He just knew that there was no way in hell that this man should be walking.

    ¡°What¡­ What the¡­.¡± James trailed off. He didn¡¯t even pay attention to the fight his men were engaged in. He only stared at the man in front of him. The man who had walked off a beheading.

    ¡°What are you?¡±

    ¡°Immortal,¡± the assassin said simply. With that, he raised a rune with his free hand. James¡¯ eyes widened when he recognized the red glowing glyph.

    ¡°Fireball.¡±

 B.4 Chapter 28: Luck (Part 3 of 3)

    James spat blood.

    It stuck to the inside of his helm, the smell of iron overpowering his nostrils. He resisted the urge to rip it off and throw it, even as it seared against his skin.

    James coughed again and groaned. He rolled on the ground, his shaking hands propping himself up. He looked around the cabin, which was lit in brilliant flames. The orange tongues of fire licked at the wooden remnants of the walls and roof, which were dilapidated enough to show the cloudy sky. The captain¡¯s quarters were no more.

    ¡®If I was only a second too late¡­¡¯

    James had been fast enough to avoid the hurling ball of flame that emitted from the assassin¡¯s rune. He narrowly avoided getting blown to bits, but that didn¡¯t mean he wasn¡¯t affected by its shockwave and heat. His Carapace had taken the brunt of the damage, shattering in the process. His poncho was also smoldering, its edges singed and still smoking. Thankfully, his armor¡¯s runes and enchantments had done their job well and still radiated with magic.

    ¡°Farin and Oscor¡­¡± James mumbled as he forced himself to stand. He turned to where he had last seen the two men before the Fireball. He froze when he saw their crumpled forms at the impact point. He wouldn¡¯t have recognized their charred corpses had it not been for the remnants of their blue sashes that still smoldered from the flames. Among them were the rest of the soldiers they had been fighting.

    ¡®He fired off the spell without caring if Ivan¡¯s men were in the way.¡¯

    The realization stunned him for a moment. Did he truly not care at all for the side he was fighting? Hell, was he even sided with Ivan?

    ¡°Lucky,¡± a voice called out from behind.

    James quickly turned, sword in hand, as he swiped at the speaker. His blade sliced the throat of the assassin, who had been standing right behind him. The wound bled heavily but did nothing to invoke any sign of pain. The masked man simply stared at James, his goggles cold and lifeless.

    James raised his sword and struck at the assassin, his movements instinctual. His blade only made it halfway before it was caught by a three-pointed weapon. He blinked at the sight of a dagger holding his sword¡¯s length, three sharp points fanning out in different directions. James barely had time to react before the man twisted and broke his sword. Fractured steel flew as a result, and runes burned on the strange dagger as it pulled back.

    James was stunned for a moment, body freezing as he watched the broken remains of his weapon fall. He failed to react to the assassin¡¯s rush.

    In a move that was too fast for him to see, the masked man decked James with a left hook. It sent the young Jarl sprawling onto the ground, his helmet flying off as a result. It bounced on the deck uselessly, far from his reach. James couldn¡¯t help but groan in pain, his body struggling as he tried to pick himself up.

    ¡°Lucky,¡± the assassin spoke again. His footsteps sounded out as he walked over to James. ¡°That¡¯s what makes you special, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°What are you¡ª¡± James felt his boot stomp down on his back, forcing him onto the ground. His head struck the floor, which had become wet with crimson and hot from the heat.

    ¡°No skills. No prowess. Just luck,¡± the man continued. ¡°Dumb luck. That is how you managed to make it this far. How you avoided death for so long. Funny, I had hoped for something a little more interesting.¡±

    ¡°Who the fuck are you?!¡± James shouted in anger, his eyes moving up to his attacker. The assassin simply stared down at him, no response coming from the emotionless mask he wore. James struggled even more to get out, his body straining as he kicked and yelled. The attempt was cut short when the sounds of screaming filled his ears. He stopped and looked at the source.

    His heart dropped when he saw men fighting and dying on the deck of Frostbite. His men. James watched in horror as one of the crewmates had his head taken off, the attack coming from thin air. As if some invisible force had done it. More fell to the same thing. Orcs, soldiers, and innocent crew. All dying in front of him.

    ¡°No!¡± James bellowed, his rage fueling his adrenaline as he fought to get up. It didn¡¯t do a damn thing. ¡°Get the FUCK off of me!¡±

    ¡°Quit your crying,¡± the assassin sighed as he forced James to the ground once more. ¡°Honestly, some men these days don¡¯t have the same humility as back then. I¡¯ve killed youngins that showed less emotion.¡±

    ¡°If you don¡¯t get off, I swear I¡¯ll¡ª¡±

    ¡°Rip my spine out?¡± the assassin questioned. ¡°Tear me limb from limb? Eat my heart? I¡¯ve heard it all, and honestly, most men don¡¯t even make good on those promises. Then again, you do hold Faust Desimir¡¯s spirit. I wonder¡­¡±

    Before he could finish his sentence, the masked man disappeared in a blur, thrown back by a force that struck him like a truck. James blinked. Horuk stood there in his place, panting as he held a piece of wood that substituted for his club.

    The orc was heavily injured, as evidenced by the deep wounds that ran across his torso. Regardless, he had the strength to completely obliterate the assassin with a strike. James could see how the masked man¡¯s body was crumpled and twisted, his limbs bent in all the wrong ways.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Horuk asked with a grunt.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± James muttered as he slowly picked himself up. He held back a cough as he looked toward the orc. ¡°We need to get back to Frostbite and sail out of here.¡±

    ¡°What of the necromancer?¡± Horuk asked.

    ¡°Dead,¡± James muttered regrettably. He didn¡¯t dare look at Malik¡¯s body. ¡°Get a move on, now! We have to hurry before¡ª¡±

    ¡°Eilif?¡±

    Both man and orc froze at the sound of a woman¡¯s voice. Both of them turned to the speaker, who stood before them by the remnants of the Fireball¡¯s path of destruction. She wore a black cloak that was wrapped around her dark shirt and trousers. Her black hair was swept back to reveal her gaze. Which consisted of eyes that glowed a bright purple, their pupils burning a white glow.

    Beholder eyes. This woman had Beholder Eyes.

    James reached for his side knife, which hung at his belt. He barely grabbed it before he was hit by an invisible force. It struck his chest, the runes on his armor flaring in response. He flew back, skidding on the floor.

    James cursed as he grabbed at his chest, feeling a long gash that ran across his steel cuirass. Thankfully, his armor held. He forced himself to get up, side knife raised as he turned to Horuk. The orc stood in front of him, arm raised as he prepared a strike. James prepared for another spell, the last one in his reserves.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    ¡°Cara¡ª¡±

    Pain. James staggered as something slashed his face. He blinked. His dagger was now reduced in half, a diagonal cut along its length. He stared at it, feeling blood run down his nose and cheeks. Horuk did not move or shout, the orc¡¯s lumbering form unnaturally still.

    ¡°Horuk?¡± James asked. There was an eerie silence, the sounds of battle now dead. ¡°Horu¨C¡±

    The orc¡¯s upper half slid off, the rest of his corpse following suit. It all landed on the floor with a sickening thud, gore and oily blood adding to the mess that surrounded James. Standing in Horuk¡¯s place was the young woman, her eyes flaring purple. James could see runes burnt into the pupils, the sigils fading slowly.

    ¡°Durable, that orc,¡± she muttered a complaint. ¡°Had to use Cleave that time. Effective spell, but it¡¯s too draining!¡±

    ¡°Who¡­ Who are you?¡± James asked, his voice coming out monotone. He felt numb despite the cut that ran diagonally across his face. It was still bleeding.

    ¡°Hm?¡± the woman raised an eyebrow at his question. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re Holter. I had thought that maybe Seamus was here, maybe disguised as one of the guards. Gods know he¡¯s not on the other ship. Already killed everyone there, both above and below the decks.¡±

    James continued to stare, his heart sinking.

    Dimitri. Greene. The crew. Were they all dead, too?

    ¡®James! React! Do something!¡¯ Faust was screaming now.

    ¡°Well, time to die,¡± the woman said. Before James could do or say anything, he was thrown back again. He landed on the ground in pain again. This time, it was more than what he could handle. He clutched at the right side of his face, letting out a scream of agony. His eye was bleeding heavily, his sight gone from it. The woman had cut it.

    James writhed on the ground as it grew unbearable. His adrenaline had faded a while ago, and his previous wounds were beginning to rear their ugly heads. He was immobilized, his body reaching the limits of what they could take.

    ¡°You missed,¡± another voice called out.

    ¡°It¡¯s not easy aiming, you know,¡± the woman said indignantly. ¡°Aiming for the throat is quite difficult, really.¡±

    James struggled to look for the source of the other voice. Despair filled him when he saw the assassin approaching, half his body still malformed. Yet he walked just fine. In fact, James could see how the assassin forced his twisted arm into place, his hand clenching and unclenching.

    ¡®What is happening?¡¯

    ¡®Forget that! Get up!¡¯ Faust shouted. ¡®You can¡¯t go down like this!¡¯

    James stopped his writhing, his teeth gritting. He forced himself to bear the agony once more, his hands shaking as he pushed himself off the ground. Blood dripped from his right eye, his vision blurred and halved. Regardless, he stood up straight, his remaining eye staring at the two strangers.

    ¡°He¡¯s still alive,¡± the assassin pointed out. The woman groaned, her gaze meeting with James as he attempted to stand. Her pupils flared, and James stumbled back, more slashes hitting his chest and arms. He fell onto his knees, his lungs begging for breath as he wheezed.

    ¡®You must get home!¡¯ Faust¡¯s words echoed within him. ¡®You can¡¯t die like this! You can get out of this! I will lend you my power! As much as I can! You just need to GET UP!!¡¯

    James attempted to stand once again. It already felt like he had done this a hundred times. Each time more futile than the last. Yet he managed to force his legs to work right, his knees wobbling as he took a step toward the Beholder user.

    ¡°Oh?¡± she said with amusement. ¡°You still have some strength left? How much would you bear, I wonder?¡±

    James huffed, his body straightening. He was scared; that much was still clear. Yet, he only had to think about his dead friends for that fear to subside. Anger now controlled him, accompanied by Faust¡¯s flowing spirit. The Centurion bolstered his body, his muscles tensing and his bleeding stopping.

    For a moment, James had forgotten about the pain. If anything, he could feel his body grow cooler. His wounds hurt less, and his adrenaline rushed back into his body. A rage bubbled deep within, stoked by Faust¡¯s spirit.

    ¡°Hit me¡­ with all you got,¡± he called out in a growl.

    James took a step, and a slash hit his chest. The poncho he wore tore but held. Another slash, this one striking his shin. He kept walking. More slashes, all of them hitting his body. Some were deep, cutting deep into his flesh and armor. Others were light, cutting his face and hands like daggers.

    James continued to walk, his body going through what seemed like a storm of knives and swords. He stared at the woman and her partner, his teeth gritting as he tanked through slash after slash. Cut after cut. Each one threatened to bring him down. Each one added to the countless angry wounds that covered him head to toe.

    James did not stop. He could feel how Faust¡¯s spirit protected him, the wounds on his body doing little to him, no matter how deep they ran. No matter how much blood was spilled.

    ¡®I¡¯ll kill you. I¡¯ll kill you. I¡¯LL KILL YOU.¡¯

    James screamed as he reached striking distance, his fist raising as he prepared to fight. The woman stepped back in surprise, the slashes stopping. James stared at her with his only remaining eye, his rage present in the way his skull glowed.

    ¡°POWER STRIKE!¡±

    He threw the punch, his fist aiming straight for her head. However, his strike did not land. Instead, his fist only struck air, sending a vortex of wind out into the sea. James blinked. He felt the pain right after, blood filling his mouth. The woman had dodged the attack, and her partner had stabbed him with a dagger and sword. The sword ran deep into a space between his plate armor, blood faceting from the wound. The dagger was lodged deep into the side of his neck, the cold steel stained with scarlet red.

    James did not say anything else as the assassin pulled the weapons out with a sickening rip. He fell forward right after, his wounds finally overwhelming him. Once he hit the ground, his gaze moved to the assassin who had stabbed him, the man¡¯s goggles reflecting the flames that were spreading across Talon.

    He could see how a few more men hurried to accompany him, one of them being that of Jarl Ivan. James had forgotten about the Bastard Jarl. The gnarled man seemed to look displeased as he stared at James with a look of hatred.

    ¡°You said that it would be quick, Eilif!¡± Ivan called, his voice almost distant.

    ¡°Things got out of hand,¡± Eilif, the assassin apparently, said with a huff. ¡°Honestly, I didn¡¯t think he would be so adamant. Kira¡¯s slashes should¡¯ve brought him down much earlier.¡±

    James could only listen in on the conversation as his vision waned and his body grew colder. His natural instincts forced him to take a breath, which in turn forced more blood into his lungs and resulted in a horrible gurgling noise that haunted him.

    He was dying.

    ¡®Faust?¡¯ he called out. There was no response from the spirit.

    James¡¯ vision soon faded to near-nothingness, and numbness began to spread throughout his body, dampening the pain from his wounds. Before his consciousness slipped away, he heard them speak once more. Their words were muffled and half drowned out by the sound of blood bubbling and coalescing, but James could barely make out what they said.

    ¡°Watch your tone with me, Jarl. Be lucky that I¡¯m not killing you for not bringing Seamus here.¡±

    Ivan¡¯s voice came a second later, his tone turning apologetic. ¡°Of course. I apologize.¡±

    ¡°At least Holter¡¯s down,¡± Kira, the Beholder woman, said. ¡°All that¡¯s left is Halvorson himself.¡±

    James felt a sense of guilt accompanying his fear of dying. Right before he lost all consciousness of the moment, however, something called to him. In the silence between his last heartbeats, James heard a vaguely familiar regal voice deep in the recesses of his mind. One that he never got to recognize before he died.

    ¡°Pathetic.¡±

    END OF PART ONE

 Interlude: Vladimir

    Vladimir Vulpesson looked out upon the city of Bernis, the lights of its districts and harbor twinkling in the twilight of the dying day. Snow fell around him, the flakes melting as soon as they made contact with his fur cloak. The old Jarl sighed at the numb cold that seeped through, bringing a reminder to his aging bones that his time drew near.

    Vladimir did not have long left in this world. He was ripe in his age, reaching his sixty-eighth year not even a month ago. Every new age felt like his last, every Frost threatening to choke the life out of him. Clan politics also threatened to drown him, the oppressive weight of the looming Lumen Kingdom spurring every important Jarl in Valenfrost to scramble and panic. Betrayals, raids, and even the burning of cities.

    Not to mention that cursed clan. The White Raven. After everything Vladimir had done and sacrificed to ensure his clan¡¯s future¡ªincluding marrying his daughter off to that bastard Villtur¡ªthat accursed Outlander had come to ruin everything. Parading himself as some hero and moralist, spieling about uniting the South whilst forcing Vlad¡¯s own son into a binding contract. A contract that was sure to bring the fall of his family name.

    ¡°You¡¯re scowling more than usual, old friend,¡± a man called out from the Jarl¡¯s right. Vladimir turned to see someone walking up to his spot on the balcony, hand carrying a horn full of wine. He was dressed in fine clothes, his dark green cape swept back to reveal an expensive white and gold tunic. Jewelry adorned him, gold and valdoran rings accompanied by silver necklaces that held glinting stones. Among it all, however, was the telltale golden pin by his collar, its shape representing a feline maw with strange ears. A Kerryn.

    Jarl Halsten wasn¡¯t young¡ªcloser to Vladimir¡¯s age, actually¡ªbut his features and strong build would lead some to believe otherwise. He had a full head of hair, Valian black with silver notes at the sides. His beard, while mostly gray, had a section of black that surrounded his chin and lips. Halsten was a warrior, and his rise to strength empowered him with youth. Rune Marks and magical skills did that to a man. If they were lucky enough to avoid dying before their thirtieth year, warriors like Halsten were almost guaranteed extended youth.

    ¡°See?¡± Halsten pointed out as he leaned against the railing in front of Vlad. ¡°There¡¯s that scowl again. I swear, old friend, that¡¯s going to wilt you faster than the passing of ages itself.¡±

    ¡°My time is overdue,¡± Vlad growled. He closed his eyes as he leaned back against his chair, hand fiddling with a small half-valdora. ¡°I should¡¯ve passed on years ago, but these cursed islands keep me in this world. Every year, it threatens all I have built. Right when I think I can move on in peace, something else comes to drag my name down to the depths of Helheim.¡±

    ¡°This about that Holter boy?¡± Halsten asked, his horn brought to his lips. ¡°He shouldn¡¯t be that much of a problem. Don¡¯t tell me you think he¡¯ll actually live long enough to destroy your clan?¡±

    ¡°He used dark magic to put my boy into a binding pact,¡± Vlad said with a tired breath. ¡°I¡¯ve had witches look at the mark. Do you know what they told me?¡±

    ¡°Humor me.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t recognize it,¡± the disgruntled Jarl revealed. ¡°They said they had never seen such magic before. One Witch told me that pact magic usually binds a person¡¯s ley lines for a limited time. Depending on how many reserves are invested into the pact, it could last up to years or until one of the parties dies. The one that binds my son, however, does not lie within his ley lines. I was told that it was bound to his heart. His fucking heart.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Vladimir clenched his half-valdora in his fist, his teeth grinding as he recalled what the woman had told him. Not even death would break the pact. At least, not immediately. Whatever magic Holter had used on the young Siegfried was enough to both confuse and scare off the Witch Vladimir had hired.

    ¡°I¡¯m not surprised, honestly,¡± Halsten said after a pause. ¡°Holter is from another world. Logically, it makes sense that he would incorporate dark magic into our own world. Heinous, if you ask me.¡±

    ¡®No, dear friend. I don¡¯t think it is from his world. Hel, I don¡¯t even think it is from ours.¡¯

    Vladimir did not say anything. He kept his disagreements to himself, his thoughts racing as he focused on the one man who he believed was the real problem. The old Jarl believed that the culprit was the Necromancer, who was kept in Holter¡¯s company. His son had told him about that day, about how the maniac had cackled after everyone was swindled into the pact. All while they were all held at knifepoint.

    ¡°Well, if it makes you feel any better, old friend, the endeavor draws nearer,¡± Halsten said, interrupting the Jarl¡¯s thought process. ¡°I hear that it is due to arrive in the next two years. Everyone is preparing, my clan included. If this Holter of yours is as ambitious and naive as you say he is, then I have no doubts he¡¯ll attend. I¡¯ll kill him for you then.¡±

    ¡°What of Villtur and Olafson?¡± Vlad pointed out. ¡°They are pacted with him. I don¡¯t doubt that their bindings will force them to act in favor of him.¡±

    Halsten laughed at that, his hand swirling the wine in his horn. ¡°I can take them on just fine. While my clan isn¡¯t as prolific as they, I can assure you that my sword will cut through them the same. Olafson is laughable, and I don¡¯t doubt I can take on Lukas Villtur when the time comes.¡±

    ¡°Even Lukas?¡± Vlad said with audible surprise.

    ¡°Of course,¡± Halsten said as he downed the rest of his wine. ¡°His bark is worse than the bite. Lukas is more of an acting philosopher, clinging to the dredges of the past for comfort and guidance. While strong, his conviction is held back by his foolish ideals and idolization of Yorn. He¡¯ll fall all the same as Halvorson did.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s bold, even for you,¡± Vlad muttered.

    Halsten did something that surprised the old Jarl. He scowled. It was, for a split second, barely noticeable, but his lips and brow curled downward in clear anger. It went away before Vlad could process the image.

    ¡°I¡¯m sick of the worship around that cursed bastard,¡± Halsten said with deaf calmness. ¡°Yorn was a strong man. Great even. But he was a failure of a Jarl. A weakling who couldn¡¯t maintain his own lands and ideals. Deimos is proof that he was never the man anyone thought he was. Yet they worship him like he was a herald of the gods themselves. No, one day they will all see what true strength is.¡± Halsten grinned as he raised his horn, his hand crushing it without any effort. Pieces of it fell to the ground in a clatter, no liquid left within them.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be seeing you, old friend,¡± Halsten said after a moment. He turned and left the old Jarl, returning the inside of the keep. ¡°I wish you a proper New Year. I have a feeling that this Age will be one for the scribes.¡±

    He left, and Vladimir was somehow more aware of the cold that threatened to choke the air from him.

 Interlude: Unaka

    Un¡¯aka focused on his ley lines, his hands clasped together as he meditated. He took in a slow breath, body still as he chanted the choice words for his ritual. They came out in foreign tongue, distinctive from both his native language and that accursed Azuran the Northern savages used. It was an old dialect, dated back when men had to chant incantations to draw the raw power of Azura¡¯s veins.

    While Un¡¯aka knew that this ritual would have been done faster by ¡®normal¡¯ means, he¡¯d much rather do it the way he had been taught. The right way. His master had always made it a point to drill into his head that incantations were a part of their dying traditions and culture. To abandon the practice of the ease of the new world was akin to abandoning his history. No, Un¡¯aka had a duty to his people, to his long-gone master.

    Despite being in his thirtieth year, Un¡¯aka was the last of the Shamans from the Cerulean Islands. Everyone else had either died of old age or been killed by the raving barbarians long ago. Ever since the death of his master, Un¡¯alaw, Un¡¯aka became the default High Shaman of his people despite his inherent lack of knowledge and history.

    It was a position he never wanted to take, regardless of prestige and honor. He only ever wanted to learn and study, to weave magic and use it for the purpose of protecting those he loved. Oh, how naive he had been.

    Un¡¯aka took a deep breath as the ritual reached its pinnacle, the air in the wooden cabin becoming staunch with the smell of burnt floorboards. He pressed his fingers together, his ancient words echoing around him. Un¡¯aka felt his internal reserves being slowly sapped, the ritual¡¯s magic taking hold. In a breath, he finished the incantation.

    ¡°Show me your secrets: Scry!¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    The ritual circle in the cabin brightened at his words, the runes flaring as it responded. In a flash of white, Un¡¯aka was witness to the fruits of his labor. A screen of bluish white particles coated the floor, displaying rises and dips, hills and sea beds. A detailed map, created out of illusory magic and accurate scrying.

    Yet there was a certain fuzz that came with it as if it was threatened by an invisible force to dissipate slowly. Un¡¯aka raised a confused eyebrow, sure that his scrying was accurate. Then he saw it. He squinted and nearly let out a gasp. Jagged and sharp lines threatened to tear the image apart, all of them spreading like an invisible web of cracked glass. Un¡¯aka looked to the source of them, a frown coming over his lips.

    ¡°I see. So this is where it all originated,¡± he muttered. He brought a thoughtful hand to his chin, eyes still focused on the illusory map. Had his new employer known that this was where the holy lines of power were fractured? Perhaps not. Un¡¯aka doubted the brute had a modicum of an idea of what this meant.

    ¡°What¡¯s with the image?¡± a rough voice came from behind. Un¡¯aka turned to the door to the cabin, which was slightly ajar. A malformed head poked in, greenish skin covered in pockmarks and scars.

    ¡°It is nothing. Just interference,¡± Un¡¯aka said. ¡°Go get your leader.¡±

    The brute gave a thoughtful and confused look and shrugged before he left. Un¡¯aka sighed and looked back at the map, his eyes on the crack¡¯s origin. This was a blasphemous sight, one that made the Shaman shake with held back anger. This alone was enough for Un¡¯aka to consider the orcs¡¯ crusade to be a noble one. For at least they knew better than to strain and tarnish the holy powers of Azura¡¯s own veins.

    ¡°Praise Tzamna,¡± Un¡¯aka muttered a small prayer, his fists clenched as he brought them to his lips and chest. While he had to inherently keep to his beliefs, including the ones that warned of the rashness of anger, Un¡¯aka couldn¡¯t help but feel as if this small fishing town deserved the wrath of the orcs. For they had played with powers that were never meant for common men.

    ¡®May your souls find peace within Azura¡¯s heart.¡¯

 Interlude: Archibald

    Archibald Yevon awoke shivering. The freezing bite of Frost crept through his bones like a cursed disease, bringing numbness and the faint promise of death. His teeth chattered as he blinked, his vision blurred and distorted. Was he still drunk? Or did his nightly blackouts finally bring him to his doom? Was death¡¯s envoy, Thien, finally here to collect his pathetic self?

    Archibald shut his eyes, his arms wrapping around his shivering body. While he knew he deserved far worse than such a quick fate, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of the pains that plagued him. That sick, twisting feeling of guilt and loss. It just kept getting worse as time went on, the world around him growing older whilst he still lived.

    ¡®Hundred years of this, and it never gets easier.¡¯

    He still felt guilty about hiding the truth of his age from Helen. The last thing he wanted was for her to figure out how close he was to his regal bloodline. He also didn¡¯t need her to ask questions about such things. Gods knew that woman was insistent when it came to these matters.

    It was never any of her business.

    A voice, faint as the wind and distant like a storm, whispered in his ears. Archibald froze at its inclusion.

    ¡®Get out of my head. You promised to stay out.¡¯

    No response came. Yet Archibald could still hear a distant clicking. The sound of a sword¡¯s guard shaking against its sheath. Delilah had found her way near him once more.

    ¡°Over here,¡± a guardsman¡¯s voice called out. ¡°Someone saw him here, mumbling something strange to himself.¡±

    ¡°Archibald!¡± a female voice. Helen? ¡°Caelus¡¯ balls, he¡¯s freezing out here! Give him your cloak, now!¡±

    Archibald felt warmth encompass him like a blanket, the guardsman¡¯s cloak covering his curled-up form. He stopped shivering, his body relaxing as Frost was driven back. He slowly opened his eyes to see the aged woman standing over him, a couple of rookie guardsmen looking down at him with some hesitance.

    ¡°H¡­ How?¡± the elf croaked.

    ¡°These dolts found your sword buried in a snow mound nearby,¡± Helen explained as she knelt, her brow scrunched in worry. She looked over his fingers, which all seemed perfectly healthy, before checking his forehead. ¡°Apparently, they didn¡¯t bother to look around for you.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± one of the men called. ¡°We checked, we swear! He was just well hidden in this cursed alley.¡±

    ¡°Rinn found him just fine,¡± Helen growled. ¡°And she wasn¡¯t even looking through the alleyway!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a traveling merchant!¡± another guard argued. ¡°She has an eye for spotting details!¡±

    ¡°But not for selling wares,¡± the first man muttered. ¡°Not really a good merchant if she doesn¡¯t sell.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right about that,¡± the other guardsman said as he rubbed his chin. ¡°She don¡¯t even buy anything around the marketplace.¡±

    ¡°What kind of merchant is that woman?¡±

    ¡°The kind I¡¯ll use for replacing green guardsmen like yourselves,¡± Helen shot at them. After glaring at them some more, she turned back to the freezing elf with a softer expression. ¡°Archibald, can you stand?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I can,¡± Archibald murmured. He struggled to sit upright, his hands pulling the cloak tighter around him. He felt like utter shit, his body feeling as if it was clobbered by some mad orc while his eyes felt as sensitive as sin. The taste of bile on his tongue didn¡¯t help much with his urge to vomit once more.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Just as he began to pick himself up, he caught sight of Delilah¡¯s silver hilt on Helen¡¯s belt. The rapier began to shake almost immediately, its guard rattling as it did so. Archibald lost his balance out of shock, his ass hitting the stone as he stared at the weapon. It didn¡¯t shake after that, but the elf could still feel its presence weighing on his soul.

    That thing was cursed. He knew it.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Helen quickly asked, kneeling down again.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Archibald responded quickly. ¡°Just slipped a little.¡±

    The guardsmen behind Helen stared at the disheveled elf, their lips moving as they muttered to each other. Unfortunately for Archibald, he could hear them clear as day, thanks to his enhanced hearing.

    ¡°This drunk fought alongside the Jarl? Isn¡¯t he supposed to be¡­ I don¡¯t know, a little more stoic or badass?¡¯

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me,¡± the other whispered. ¡°I know we¡¯re not supposed to expect anything grand, but¡­ Freyja¡¯s tits, he¡¯s a complete mess.¡±

    Helen snapped her gaze back at the two men, a scowl on her lips. Turned out, those men weren¡¯t being so subtle with their hushed conversation. Just as she prepared to chew them out, a guardsman ran up to the alleyway they were in. He stopped outside of it, resting his body on the wall as he panted. He was clearly out of breath, his chest heaving as he pointed to the south.

    ¡°Ships¡­ lined up!¡± he panted in desperation.

    ¡°Ships?¡± Helen asked, her hands forming into fists. ¡°Raid?¡±

    The man nodded. ¡°Orcs!¡±

    ¡°Shit!¡± Helen cursed. She turned to the other two guards, who stared dumbly at her. ¡°Get to the barracks and training grounds immediately! Gather up as many guards as you can! This is a Code Red! Understand?¡±

    They both snapped out of their stupor and nodded quickly before running off. Helen turned to the exhausted man, who had finally seemed to be straightening himself.

    ¡°You! Who else have you told?¡±

    ¡°The shaman, Dahlia, and Felix,¡± the guardsman responded. ¡°One of our scout ships saw them as they approached. Silas, the orc leader, was the one who recognized them.¡±

    ¡°Are all our ships docked?¡± Helen asked.

    ¡°Yes. Draugr¡¯s Haunt¡¯s crewmaster, Liam, is ready to take any of our forces to fight them.¡±

    ¡°Go and tell him to pull the longship close to the harbor and to hold off from attacking. We need a plan before charging in recklessly,¡± Helen ordered. The man moved to obey but was stopped once more. ¡°Hold up! Has Wizard Falrick arrived today?¡±

    ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± the guardsman responded. ¡°He arrived this morning, actually.¡±

    ¡°Good, go tell him to come meet us at the docks. I¡¯ll give the order to Liam myself,¡± Helen said.

    ¡°Of course, I¡¯ll run to him now.¡±

    ¡°Freyja grant you speed, soldier,¡± Helen muttered as the guardsman sprinted off into the streets of Yorktown. She turned to Archibald, who saw the entire encounter. He stared off at the alley¡¯s exit, his hands gripping the cloak tightly.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be going now,¡± Helen muttered, her hand moving to undo the rapier at her belt. She handed Delilah to Archibald, who looked at the weapon with a measure of distrust. The sword seemed to gleam in the gloomy light despite no sun visible in the clouded sky.

    ¡°Get yourself somewhere safe. You¡¯re not fit to fight today,¡± Helen said as the elf cautiously accepted the cursed sword. With a nod, the veteran ran out of the alleyway, leaving Archibald on his lonesome.

    You can¡¯t disregard your responsibilities, Son of Yevon.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± Archibald hissed at the rapier. He shut his eyes, his grip on the rapier tightening. ¡°You¡¯re not real.¡±

    Delilah vibrated in his hold, rattling as an inch of silvery steel slid from the scabbard. It reflected the elf, showing a disheveled, dirty face that was paler than it should¡¯ve been.

    Archibald. I am real. As real as the sun¡¯s light and the twinkling stars. Real as the wind¡¯s breeze and the sway of grass blades. Real as¡ª

    ¡°Silence!¡± Archibald snapped the blade close, the voice of the cursed thing disappearing from his mind. ¡°You are not real! Just a figment of my deteriorating mind. Yes, that¡¯s it! I¡¯m insane!¡±

    The sword did not speak to him this time. Archibald stared at it, his hands shaking as he hugged the sheathed weapon. All the while, shouts and yells echoed around the streets outside his alleyway.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m insane.¡±

 B.4 Chapter 29: A Followers Zeal

    2

    Boar

    ¡°We have made contact with a clan far south of Valenfrost. They are a foreign people, coming from the south continent of Atrox. My men and allies call them Barbarians, a crude insult. While they are strangers to our customs, I do not believe them to be savages like the raiders that already plague our waters. Nor like my own father, who had committed atrocities against our own people. The most harm they had done so far was in self defense against one of the smaller clans near Blyth territory. Even then, only one man had died from the conflict. Einar has expressed concerns, but I believe it is best to talk peace first. Violence has brought nothing but pain to our nation these past years and I intend to minimize it as much as possible. I will still express caution, but I will not be the first to strike at them. Not when they have done nothing to deserve it. Of course, that is not the only reason why I say this.

    While months have passed since my father¡¯s fall, my own clan hasn¡¯t recovered fully from the war. Our standing is still there, but not many clans know of our true weaknesses. We hope to never show that side of us. The Jarls we are allied with are kind, sure, but there is a certain hunger within those eyes, like leviathans that sense blood in the water. They are waiting for a chance to pick off what they can to gain control of the territory I had inherited from my father¡¯s fall.

    I must stay vigilant and keep my vulnerabilities hidden. That includes a call for peace and a show of strength every once in a while in the form of raider hunts. Keeping appearances is vital to making sure no one tries anything. When the time is ripe, once tensions have dissipated, I plan to meet with these Barbarians. Or Atroxi, as Isabelle calls them. I do hope they also share the same goal of peace.

    I hope that I am not making a mistake.¡±

    <hr>

    Astronomy. Knowledge of stars. Constellations. Useless. All useless.

    It was erased quickly, the images eaten by the void of memory loss.

    Battle formation. Tactics. Soldier positions. Somewhat important for certain undead but ultimately useless.

    The knowledge was sucked in by the void, not unlike the previous mound of information. Replacing it was the faint power of a single Life reserve. It all left a painful migraine that surged through Malik Ymir¡¯s head. Yet the pain was not comparable to the agony of dying. He strained to move his numb hand to his chest, his body growing colder. With a harsh whisper, Malik chanted.

    ¡°Warmth to Me. Bestow Life.¡±

    His body jerked in response, a gasp escaping his lips as he seized painfully. The gasp soon turned into a scream, his vocal cords growing hoarse as needles pricked at every part of his body. He couldn¡¯t help it. Life bestowed upon a person was not a comforting feeling. It was dark magic, simple as. With such a cursed ritual, pain was obviously expected.

    Wounds healed and blood was restored to him. Still, it was barely enough to keep him alive. Malik forced himself to blink rapidly, his sight restored as he looked at the dark sky. He wasn¡¯t sure if night had started to fall, or if the sky was blanketed by the dark smoke that came from the fires that ravaged Talon.

    Malik turned over onto his stomach, blood staining his robes as he wiggled his wounded body forth. His death gambit had paid off, and he had awakened long after the danger had passed. He narrowly avoided waking too late to move any part of his body whilst also being lucky enough to not wake too early when those bastards were still around.

    Right now, it looked as if they had dumped all the bodies on the longship, stealing Frostbite for themselves. Malik cursed all the Gods he knew for such a shit situation. He could feel how Talon lurched beneath him, the bodies around him shifting in response. The hull was filling with water, he knew.

    ¡®Then why am I doing this?¡¯ he thought as he crawled toward one particular body. ¡®Why am I hopelessly trying to survive?¡¯

    He could swear that there was a particular reason. One that was shrouded in the distant past. Back before his time as a necromancer. Yet no memory came forth. He had probably erased it at some point. No matter. Malik was doing what he did on instinct, and if he learned from anything in his years, it was that he trusted them more than any phony God who controlled death.

    ¡°I will agree to every other term you may have for me. I will follow your orders as long as they don¡¯t interfere with my core beliefs and our agreements. I will do everything in my power to keep you and your allies safe. All I ask of you is that you allow me to take your body in the event you die or are killed in battle.¡±

    The terms of his pact agreements echoed in Malik¡¯s head as he looked down upon James Holter¡¯s deceased corpse. He was dead this time. Not like the Vindis Incident. He had brushed with death that time but had never been in its grasp like now. The necromancer could feel his pact with the otherworldly man become complete, leaving the last condition to be filled. Malik could do what he wanted with the corpse, to make it his own and add it to the many undead he controlled. He could study it, dissect its secrets and all.

    Yet Malik did none of that. He instead searched his memories quickly, his hand moving to the fatal wound on James¡¯ neck. It was still warm. He had time. The body twitched under his touch, still going through its death throes. James had taken a while to die. A horrifying experience, to be sure.

    ¡®Urichal Histories, don¡¯t need that. Arenian Death rituals, get rid of that.¡¯

    Malik tore through memories, erasing what he considered useless at the moment. Yet it did little to converge a single reserve. He needed two, dammit. To do that, he would have to erase something big. Something important.

    James¡¯ body was losing heat. If more time passed, there was little chance that he¡¯d be able to tether back the souls it had held.

    Malik paused as he debated heavily in his mental space. Making a choice, he collected a chunk of memory.

    ¡®Possession and body swapping. Demon summoning. Resurrection rituals. My entire knowledge of body modifications.¡¯

    He offered it up, and the knowledge was greedily sucked out of his mind. A sharp pain then struck him, like a hot blade twisting around the inside of his skull. Malik clenched his jaw tight through the pain, feeling three distinct reserves of Life appear within him. Bearing through the migraine, the necromancer focused on James¡¯ corpse.

    ¡°Warmth to You. Bestow Life.¡±

    His reserves of Life poured into the dead man, whose body shuddered in response. He twitched and shook, his wounds slowly healing as they emitted steam. Malik stopped after the second reserve, saving the third for another time. He had to make sure that his attempt worked.

    The dagger wound in his throat was the first to heal, leaving behind a faint scar. The cuts all over his limbs and face healed right after, leaving little to no evidence of ever being there. The missing eye, however, did not heal. While the bleeding stopped, the open wound remained.

    Malik waited a moment and heard it.

    James gasped deeply and let out a guttural noise, his lungs expelling any and all air and blood he had left in them. Red spattered over the stained deck, the Jarl¡¯s body shuddering as it turned over on its side. Seizures accompanied his return to the world of the living, the overpowering fluctuation of Life jolting him. It was nothing like the ungodly revival he went through during Midsommar. That had been the power of ley lines, and it filled him with such awesome power that it nearly killed him there.

    This revival was barely enough to bring him back, leaving him with only enough energy to get his heart beating and his lungs breathing. This power could only do so much. Malik had to burn through the last of his conserved Life just to bring himself back to a state of consciousness where he could summon the strength to erase the memories needed to produce another reserve. Two barely got him up when he was already on the verge of death. To bring someone back with the same amount was a risky gamble.

    Malik still wasn¡¯t even sure it paid off yet. He looked toward James, whose seizing was growing faint, his breathing ragged and hoarse. The necromancer placed a hand on the man, summoning what little strength he had to cast a spell.

    ¡°Descry.¡±

    He felt his mana pour into James¡¯ internal ley lines, searching through the man¡¯s body for any signs of a soul. As he did so, he heard the telltale sounds of another ship rowing. The shouts of men accompanied the sounds, and before he knew it, the ship came into view. From his skewed point of view, Malik could see a mast with white sails pull aside the sinking ship, men throwing hooks and bridges onto the right side of the ship. Malik forgot what it was called for some reason.

    The necromancer didn¡¯t have time to think about such things, however. He instead focused on the men who jumped onto the deck, their gear much better than that of Ivan¡¯s or even James¡¯ clan.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡®Not raiders or Falk soldiers¡­¡¯

    Malik saw the red and gold they wore, the colors synonymous with one of the southern clans. He didn¡¯t know which one, though. He had never bothered to learn such useless things. Or perhaps he did, at some point, and traded the knowledge for Life. He would never know.

    Among them was a tall, bearded man who wore a red cloak over his figure. His head of hair was cut short to perhaps a knuckle¡¯s length. His beard was tied into three distinct braids, each one held by silver rings. A Jarl¡¯s band wrapped around the top of his head, signifying him as a clan leader.

    Next to him was a woman whom Malik instantly recognized.

    ¡®The Outlander.¡¯

    She looked the same as the last time the necromancer had seen her. Dark kasani clothes and black cloak that wrapped around her shoulders. He could see the strange blade resting in its scabbard by her belt. The Outlander stood with the Jarl, her expression a mix of stunned horror and shock. She searched the burning deck, looking over the bodies and remnants of battle. She stopped when her lone eye focused on Malik and James.

    ¡°There! They¡¯re both alive!¡±

    Malik couldn¡¯t say or do anything as men hurried to him and James. The necromancer hurried his Descry spell. He searched James¡¯ ley lines, searching for any sign of life. A sign that his soul was back. Any soul, in fact. Just as long as his work was for nothing and he didn¡¯t bring back a Hollow to life.

    As the men finally pulled the necromancer up¡ªbreaking his contact with James¡ªMalik had gotten the answer to his dreaded question. He did not find a soul in the body.

    He had found three.

    <hr>

    Cold stone walls surrounded Miles Fowler as he meditated. The confines of his dungeon were cramped and suffocating, but the mercenary did not mind. It wasn¡¯t as if he had anything else to do in here other than pray and mull in his thoughts.

    It had been eight months since he and Edmund Baker had parted ways, their journey through Valenfrost ending once the young man had arrived at Norum, his eyes set on traveling home alone. And so, the follower had bid his farewells and left for a journey of his own. One that Myr had set him on.

    The dreams had stopped a long time ago. Back when the mercenary was captured and arrested a few days before the Midsommar celebrations. He had headed back to Vindis in search of a new job, as was insinuated by the strange and cryptic dreams he experienced. However, his quest had been cut short when the ship he was hitching a ride on was suddenly raided by pirates.

    Things had devolved quickly, and before Miles knew it, he and the crew were saved by a clan ship that flew the colors of the Villtur clan. The symbol of a Boar, outlined in red and gold. The men on that ship had mistaken the mercenary for one of the pirates, and their focus was set on him after the action had died down.

    Miles was then promptly arrested, with none of the crew coming to his defense. Not that it surprised him. He was used to the stigma that surrounded those who bore Myr¡¯s symbol. He was lucky that the men did not kill him then and there.

    Miles assumed that this was another test from Myr. Perhaps it was also a sign. Not long after he was thrown into the dungeons, word had come from the south. A large battle had taken place on the floating city, and the Draugr had laid claim to it. Myr had orchestrated it. Someway somehow, he had nudged and pushed things into place. Miles¡¯ arrest was not an accident. It had a purpose. What kind of purpose, the mercenary would have to be patient to find out.

    Miles opened his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips. He looked over at his facemask, which sat near his cot. Cracks lined the upper left side of the wooden mask, the pieces glued together with a glue that glittered with gold. It was a form of art, one that Miles had learned back in his homeland of Kasan.

    The mask had been broken during an¡­ altercation during his journey with Edmund. Miles had nearly died and, as a result, had a near-death experience. That brush with the other side was enough to awaken something in Miles.

    The world had a different color to it, the hues deeper and richer. The sounds crisp and almost musical. Myr had spoken to him.

    ¡®I¡¯m not crazy,¡¯ Miles thought as he reached over to the mask. His fingers brushed over the cracks, a small smile forming on his lips. ¡®I am enlightened. A tool for Myr¡¯s greater plan. Whatever happens next, I shall be ready.¡¯

    He placed the wooden mask over his face, slipping the leather straps around his head. As he tightened its holdings, a vision flashed over his eyes. The first one in months. Miles paused at the sudden flash of colors and images, his body stiffening.

    The experience was only for a moment but felt like an entire day¡¯s worth of information.

    Miles grinned. The visages shown to him were ones that amused him. It reminded him of the ones he had witnessed the week before he met with James Holter. Before he had crossed paths with a man that was Myr¡¯s own chosen.

    The vision was blurry, but Miles managed to pick out an image from it. A man clad in worn steel, a torn cape over his torso. His helmet obscured his face, the chainmail covering all features. Yet there was a glow that emanated from his right eye, magical smoke seeping from the helmet¡¯s visor.

    ¡®I¡¯ve been wondering when I¡¯d see him again,¡¯ Miles thought. As he contemplated the meaning of the vision, sounds echoed throughout the dungeon he was kept in. Footsteps. Soon enough, a guard with a red tabard adorned with gold filigrees walked by the cell. He stopped when he saw Miles. Without a word, the guard carelessly dropped a wooden bowl. It hit the ground, some of its sloppy contents spilling.

    ¡°Food,¡± the guard grunted before he used the tip of his boot to slide the bowl through the small gap under the bars. Miles stared at the bowl, which consisted of what he assumed was a mix of beef fat and old porridge. It was barely enough to sustain him for the day.

    Almost as if on cue, the follower¡¯s stomach growled angrily at the smell of the food. Miles grimaced underneath his mask at that.

    ¡°Prep that bucket of yours, as well,¡± the guard said. ¡°Someone will come soon to get it.¡±

    Miles did not say anything. He simply grabbed the bowl of slop, all the while ignoring the guard¡¯s words. Of course, the man before him didn¡¯t seem to notice or care. He just simply droned on with the procedure as if Miles hadn¡¯t heard it over and over again for the past four months.

    Back against the bars, hands on the wall. Bucket by the door. Wait until it is all clear to even. If his hands separated from the stone by just an inch, he would be beaten down until he couldn¡¯t move. Standard procedure. If anything, this particular prison was rather nicer than the ones Miles usually found himself in.

    Four months in most of the northern dungeons, Miles would¡¯ve been at the edge of starvation, body bruised from the constant beatings. His hands would¡¯ve been bleeding from the constant work in the mines or mills the wardens would¡¯ve put him through. And that was if he wasn¡¯t sold into slavery.

    Miles was lucky that the clan he had been captured by had outlawed the practice years ago. Back when Jarl Lukas Villtur had taken the title and position from his dying father. Whether the ban on slavery had been out of morality or rebellion mattered little to Miles. He was just thankful that it had been this clan that captured him. Had it been Vulpesson or even Olafson, Miles would have either been executed or forced into chains, a brand set upon his neck.

    ¡°Did you get all that?¡± the guard asked tiredly.

    Miles nodded as he lifted the mask just a little bit. He dipped a couple fingers into the slop and brought up a chunk of fat to his lips. He chewed, ignored the taste, and swallowed quickly.

    ¡°Why do you even wear the mask?¡± the guard asked out of nowhere. His tone had shifted from gruff soldier to curious child. Miles lifted his head, his left hand instinctively shifting the mask back into place. Through the low light of the dungeon, he could see how the guardsman crossed his arms, his head tilting in thought.

    ¡°It makes no sense,¡± the man continued. ¡°It¡¯s a death sentence to walk around with such a thing. Even in Valenfrost, you have to know how dangerous it is to be seen in it. Hel, you got arrested just for having it. You didn¡¯t even commit a crime, as far as I know.¡±

    ¡°It is my faith,¡± Miles responded in a low voice. ¡°That, and this mask has a¡­sentimental value.¡±

    There was a pause. Both men looked at each other, the silence growing between them.

    ¡°Jarl Villtur believes that you¡¯re like the other ones of your faith,¡± the guard muttered, breaking it. ¡°Are you? Do you kill randomly to please your God? Do you just burn villages for the hel of it? Are you insane?¡±

    Miles took a moment to think. He thought back to the battles he had fought. The men he had killed. None of it had been random. Unjustified neither. However, all of it had either led to chaos or was simply a result of it.

    ¡°I do not kill randomly, and I don¡¯t do things for the fun of it,¡± Miles answered. ¡°I simply go where I am needed and do what I must.¡±

    ¡°They say that a Follower of Chaos started some trouble east of Valenfrost,¡± the guardsmen said. ¡°Bootstead, I believe the town was called. Nearly burnt to the ground around the start of the year. The most notable thing about it was the trail of dead men by the town¡¯s edge. Followers, all of them. The witnesses say that some man bearing their mask had cut them all down. Killed them all on his lonesome. Said it was for the Will of Myr.¡±

    Miles was silent. He knew exactly what the man was speaking about. How could he not?

    ¡°Of course, a question comes up after that,¡± he continued. ¡°What kind of man would kill his own? A man who butchers the ones who bear the same symbols as he. I suppose that¡¯s why Jarl Villtur believed you were dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Why would you ask a question,¡± Miles started. ¡°That you supposedly know the answer to?¡±

    The guardsmen stiffened at that. He didn¡¯t say another word to Miles¡¯ counter. He only stared at him, a look of what could be perceived as reprieve painting his face. The Follower of Chaos knew that his fractured mask was an unsettling sight to look at. Especially if one had grown up being told the stories of his following.

    Before any of them could continue this ¡®conversation,¡¯ a commotion sounded out from outside. Miles could hear voices bounce around the dungeons, some of them hushed and hurried. A horn then blew, and a voice called out after.

    ¡°Jarl Villtur has returned! Bring healers now! There are injured to be taken into the infirmary!¡±

    The guard in front of the cell hurried to the exit, leaving Miles to his lonesome. The Follower set down his bowl and moved to the small little window that lay above him. He hopped up, his fingers grasping the edge of the sill. With a grunt, he brought himself up to peek out into the outside. Through the grass and tall weeds, Miles could see men mobilizing to the nearby town that inhabited the island. They rushed in a hurry, heading to the docks.

    While Miles couldn¡¯t exactly see the ship that Jarl Villtur rode in, he overheard conversation from a couple nearby soldiers.

    ¡°Strange woman¡­went out with the Jarl¡­¡±

    ¡°Brought back injured¡­another Jarl?¡±

    ¡°Dead¡­maybe¡­¡±

    That was all the follower could catch. Regardless, he felt excitement bubbling in his chest. He thought back to the visions, and the excitement turned to realization. Myr had brought him here. The reason as to why, was slowly becoming clear to him.

    Miles sat down, his focus on the bowl before him. He picked it up and continued to eat. For now, he would have to be patient for just a little longer. Just until fate freed him from this prison.

 B.4 Chapter 30: Centurions Promise

    ¡°Am I dead?¡±

    Faust looked over the colorful streets of Arendton. Ribbons and banners of green and gold flew with those of blue and red, mixing in with the people who danced and drank. The center of Arendton was particularly busy today, as it marked the anniversary of the Legion¡¯s founding.

    One hundred and twenty eight years, not as long as the new calendar the Lumen Empire used but close by a margin of fifty years. Not that the Centurion cared for whatever those bastards were using. Faust instead focused on the celebrations at hand, his armor glinting in the setting sun¡¯s light. He even carried the cup of wine he had been given earlier, its contents still nearly full. He barely took a sip out of it. Not a big deal. He didn¡¯t intend on getting wasted.

    Faust stood on the balcony of Cryus¡¯ palace, the white stone perfectly reflecting the glow of the sunset and contrasting nicely with the banners that displayed the Legion¡¯s coat of arms. The Olive Branches and Gladius. A perfect duo.

    ¡°I thought I¡¯d find you here,¡± a soft voice called out. Faust turned to see Diane, his love, sauntering up to him. She had her hands clasped behind her back, revealing the silky teal dress she had chosen for the evening. Faust could catch a glimpse of the perfect skin of cleavage revealed by the low hem, the smooth, flawless skin alluring him.

    ¡°My dear, you are staring,¡± Diane whispered as she stepped closer to him. Faust grinned as he rested against the balcony¡¯s railing.

    ¡°I am just enjoying the view,¡± he said with his usual charismatic charm. Diane resisted, as always, and snorted at the comment.

    ¡°At least enjoy my eyes and hair, I put in a lot of work for today,¡± Diane said as she joined him at the balcony. Her light green eyes glinted with a shine that befitted a gem, her curly hair tied up with matching ribbons and golden pins. Her lips reflected with a soft red, to which Faust took as an invite.

    ¡°No, no,¡± Diane softly chastised with a smile as she gently pushed the Centurion away. ¡°It isn¡¯t quite ladylike to have smudged makeup.¡±

    ¡°It isn¡¯t quite ladylike to trot around where men lurk,¡± Faust countered. He discreetly gestured to the floor they were on, which was filled with soldiers of similar rank and higher. There was no sight of other women other than the servants who brought wine and fruit for the noblemen.

    ¡°So?¡± Diane raised an eyebrow. ¡°It won¡¯t stop me from seeing the man I love. Unless, of course, you¡¯re deliberately avoiding me.¡±

    ¡°Of course not,¡± Faust chuckled as he slipped an arm behind her, hooking her in and bringing Diane close to him. She did not resist his touch, yet Faust could see how her cheeks darkened as he made the move. ¡°I was invited up here to speak with Cyrus. Can¡¯t turn him down. You know how it is.¡±

    Diane gave him a look. ¡°As much as I¡¯d like to tease you, I am curious about how you came to know the Legion¡¯s Emperor himself.¡±

    ¡°I thought I told you already?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve only told me that he saved you as a child,¡± Diane said. ¡°Never went into detail.¡±

    Faust raised an eyebrow. He looked over at the cup of wine in his free hand, his wrist rotating as he swished the dark red liquid around. He brought it up to his lips and took a sip.

    ¡°Well,¡± he muttered after tasting the wine. ¡°He did save me as a child. I don¡¯t remember much about it. I was only¡­ six, I believe?¡±

    Faust closed his eyes as he recalled the images of the past. He had been a scrawny thing, malnourished and on the verge of death. Barely surviving on the streets of some godsforsaken town. Cyrus and his Legion had conquered the settlement as a strategic point against some old forgotten kingdom, and his focus was on holding it as a temporary base. The Emperor had found Faust in their prospective base, stealing food rations in an attempt to survive starvation.

    ¡°I was a street urchin, destined for death. Cyrus pitied me and decided to take me into the Legion. He raised me in a way, paid for instructors, and taught me what I needed to know to survive,¡± Faust said. His childhood was a blur then, most of his memories consisting of training and learning. He remembered when Cyrus presented the option for Faust to move in with foster parents in Arendton. He had wanted him to have the chance to live a normal boy¡¯s life.

    Faust had chosen to join the Legion¡¯s military instead. He started as a simple packboy, bringing weapons and supplies to men in need of them. When he reached a proper age, he started to train as a Legionnaire. He rose through the ranks over the years before reaching the status of Centurion.

    Cyrus had been there for every milestone, every fifth birthday, and every rank. He was a role model, almost. A man he could look up to.

    Faust told most of this to Diane, who watched him with a look of awe. She had lost all her coy expressions and had reverted to the scholarly woman that Faust had fallen in love with in the first place.

    ¡°He¡¯s like a father to you,¡± Diane murmured after Faust finished.

    ¡°He¡¯s my Emperor,¡± Faust said with a shrug. ¡°I serve him as such. I am not his blood.¡±

    ¡°Blood doesn¡¯t always mean everything,¡± Diane refuted. ¡°He raised you, Faust. Watched you grow. In a way, that makes you his son.¡±

    Faust barked a laugh at that, to Diane¡¯s annoyance. She narrowed her brow, and the Centurion quickly killed his expression.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think he sees me that way,¡± Faust muttered. ¡°That man has lived far longer than I have any right to believe. It is easier to believe that he views the Legion more as a son than even I.¡±

    Diane gave a confused look at that, her expression quickly changing as her eyes set on something else. Faust didn¡¯t know what caught her attention until he noticed the figure that stood a couple meters away. He pulled away from the balcony, his left arm slipping away from Diane as he stood at attention.

    Cyrus towered over the two despite the fact that he was supposedly nearly the same height as Faust, perhaps a couple knuckles taller. Faust noticed the boots the Emperor wore, which added to his towering stature, along with the silky robes he had wrapped around his torso. His hair was dark brown, like oakwood. It was cut short and swept back, yet a few rebellious curls poked out at the front. His skin, while naturally pale, was tanned to a light brown from years in the sun. His dark blue eyes looked at the Centurion with a curious gaze, his lips curled into a smile.

    As always, Cyrus looked young. Not a single wrinkle on his face. He looked like the statues that spotted Arendton, their marble structure almost inspired by his square jaw and perfect nose. The only difference was the noticeable scar that ran past his left eyebrow and stopped at his hairline.

    ¡°Faust,¡± he said with a joyous tone, his voice strong and powerful whilst also calm and soothing. ¡°I see you brought a lady friend with you. Diane, I presume?¡±

    With that last word, Cyrus leaned forward and gently grasped Diane¡¯s hand. He raised it and gave it a light kiss, mimicking the proper etiquette all in the Legion practiced. At least, the noblemen did.

    Diane gave no heed and even smiled at the interaction, her head bowing as she gave a small curtsy. ¡°Pleased to finally meet you in the flesh, my Emperor.¡±

    ¡°Please, call me Cyrus,¡± he responded with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ve already had to deal with hundreds of ¡®Praise the Emperor¡¯ tonight. That is why I came here. To speak with close company.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Diane asked with a small glance at Faust, who stiffened a bit. ¡°Well, I do suppose I can get a drink for myself whilst the two of you speak. I don¡¯t want to intrude.¡±

    Cyrus flushed at that, realizing his mistake. ¡°Ah, I did not mean¡ª¡±

    ¡°No worries,¡± Diane gave a soft laugh as she stepped away. ¡°I don¡¯t intend on eavesdropping tonight. I shall be back in a couple heartbeats.¡±

    With that, she walked off, heading downstairs.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    For a moment, both men were silent.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be alright, yes?¡± Cyrus asked.

    ¡°Believe me,¡± Faust started. ¡°That was a front Diane puts up in public. In reality, she¡¯s possibly the most vicious woman I¡¯ve had the pleasure of meeting.¡±

    ¡°And you love her?¡±

    ¡°Oh, most certainly,¡± Faust chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m planning on marrying her at some point in the future.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Cyrus said with a smile. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re happy.¡±

    The Emperor stepped forward and rested his arms on the balcony¡¯s railing, right next to where Faust stood. Both of them were silent for a moment, the sky¡¯s hue shifting from a burning orange to a purple twilight.

    ¡°Faust, I must request something selfish from you,¡± Cyrus muttered. The Centurion perked up at that, his brow furrowing as he turned to the balcony. He rested his cup on the rail, the wine barely touched.

    ¡°Whatever you require, I shall deliver,¡± he stated.

    ¡°Enough with the formality,¡± Cyrus sighed. ¡°This is a conversation between us. Not commander and soldier.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Faust said with a nod. ¡°What is it you request?¡±

    Cyrus didn¡¯t respond immediately. He simply stared at the horizon, where the sun¡¯s light had disappeared. All that was left was the traces of its glow and the faint appearance of stars.

    ¡°I want you to leave the Legion with Diane,¡± the Emperor muttered. Faust blinked. He looked at Cyrus, whose expression was solemn.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Leave these lands. Start a family with Diane. Go somewhere else like Kasan, Farkos, wherever is safe,¡± Cyrus said. He looked at Faust, his eyes displaying an emotion that the Centurion did not expect. Worry. Guilt.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Faust trailed off, speechless. He didn¡¯t even know how to respond to such a request.

    ¡°You will be paid. Valdoras, of course. Those are more versatile than auriuses and balts. I¡¯ll also get you a¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop,¡± Faust raised his hands in protest. He shook his head, unsure of what to say. He took a moment to think before he responded. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving the Legion.¡±

    Cyrus stood up, his eyes meeting with Faust¡¯s. Both of them were silent, the sounds of celebration echoing out in the city.

    ¡°It¡¯s the war, isn¡¯t it?¡± Faust asked. ¡°You believe that we¡¯re losing.¡±

    ¡°Of course not,¡± Cyrus snapped, his posture straightening for a moment. Then and there, Faust caught a glimpse of the Emperor emerging. It was only for a moment, a look of harshness passing over the man¡¯s gaze. It stunned the Centurion, making him regret his words. However, the hardness in Cyrus¡¯ expression went away as soon as it appeared, leaving behind a tired man who clearly lived longer than he had any right to.

    The man he called Emperor rested against the balcony once more, his crestfallen eyes turning to the city before him. Lights illuminated the streets, and lanterns of different colors formed a snaking rainbow throughout Arendton.

    ¡°Do you still recall the day I found you?¡± Cyrus asked. Faust raised an eyebrow at the question and didn¡¯t answer. Regardless, the other man continued to speak. ¡°You were a frail thing. Verge of death. Tried to steal food but your spindly little arms couldn¡¯t bear the weight of all of it. I don¡¯t think I ever told you what I found after we took you in, did I?¡±

    Faust made no comment. He didn¡¯t remember Cyrus finding anything in particular after the two met other than the clothes on his back and the small knife he had kept for protection.

    ¡°We found the alleyway you lived in. Hidden in between our base and some dilapidated building. That is where I discovered your belongings, sparse as they were. It was how I knew your name.¡±

    Faust blinked. Now that he thought about it, he had never questioned the name given to him. He had initially thought it was Cyrus who had bestowed it upon him, but now that he thought about it¡­

    ¡°Your mother was Valian,¡± Cyrus continued. ¡°Running from a past that chased her all across the islands of Valenfrost. She made it far into Azurvale with you in tow, surviving the best she could. At least, that was what I had gathered from the note she had left with you back then. She only wrote your name and how she prayed that someone would be able to take care of you. On parchment that was already falling apart by the time I found it. I don¡¯t know what happened to her. I don¡¯t know how you ended up in the predicament you were in. All I knew was that someone would have to honor the wishes of a dead woman. And so that burden fell onto me.¡±

    Slowly, Faust¡¯s memories returned to him. Trickles and faint images. The cot and makeshift shelter he had lived in prior to meeting the Emperor. The note he had clutched onto so tightly. Yet no image of his mother came forth. Not even her voice. Only the note and alley he had spent a portion of his premature life in.

    ¡°The war is ramping up. Every week, more cities and forts are either captured or burnt to ash. The Lumen Kingdom and their knights are growing bolder. Their steel, sharper still. Even with Caelus by our side, I worry,¡± Cyrus admitted. ¡°There is still a chance we can win. However, I cannot bear the thought of you throwing your life away. Even if you rack victory after victory, take city after city, I worry. I worry that one day, your luck will run out, and I will be forced to bury the body of the one I had promised to protect. That is if I even get the chance to retrieve it.¡±

    ¡°I do not need you to worry for me,¡± Faust argued. ¡°I am my own man.¡±

    ¡°I made a promise.¡±

    ¡°A promise that was meant for a child,¡± Faust refuted. ¡°It has been nearly two decades since. I can choose what I dedicate my life to. I chose to dedicate my life to this Legion.¡±

    Cyrus sighed. ¡°You¡­you are like a son to me. I had raised you since you were a budding child and had even given you my own heraldry, the same one I had abandoned ages ago. The name of Desimir itself. In some way, you are the son I never had. I didn¡¯t think it possible that I¡¯d have such a connection with someone at this stage of my life. Especially after the years I had suffered.¡±

    The Centurion said nothing, jaw clenched as he mulled over the words. He had no idea that the name Desimir had a significance like that. He only assumed that Cyrus had taken it from an old friend who had passed on years back. Faust didn¡¯t know how to respond to his own Emperor¡¯s words. The man was a strange case, even to him.

    No one ever talked about it, but there was an understanding amongst those who were close to Cyrus. The Emperor had lived for far longer than any of them. He had been around for at least a century, the foundation for the Legion all owed to him. The idea of him forming such a bond at his late age was almost unheard of. He was cold to all, harsh to even some of his closest advisors.

    But not to Faust. The Centurion didn¡¯t even think about it. Not until now. In fact, now that he looked back on his interactions, the Emperor was kind to him. Forgiving even. Yet he did not overtly favor Faust. He didn¡¯t pull strings or persuade Legates to go easy on the young man. He allowed him to rise through the ranks naturally like any man should. Almost like a father would do.

    Cyrus took a deep breath and stood up. He looked at the city for a moment longer before he turned to Faust. ¡°I believe I should leave. In the meantime, think about the offer. Please. I won¡¯t force the option upon you, but I believe it is in your best interest to pull back as soon as you can. I know how stubborn you are.¡±

    Faust raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in mood and emotion, the Emperor¡¯s expression shifting to that of false bravado. Then he heard it. The sounds of heels clacking against marble. Diane had come back.

    ¡°Sorry for the long wait, dear,¡± she called out to Faust as she stepped onto the balcony. She gave a smile to Cyrus, who returned in kind. Without another word, he left the couple to themselves. Diane watched him go, a confused look on her face.

    ¡°He was already on his way out before you got back,¡± Faust said as he picked up his cup from the railing. He drank half of it in a gulp.

    ¡°I know it¡¯s not my business to pry, but¡­¡± Diane turned to him with a narrowed gaze. ¡°What did you say to him?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not blind,¡± Diane said. ¡°I saw that look in his eyes. He looked sorrowful. What did you say?¡±

    ¡°I said nothing,¡± Faust admitted as he swished his cup. He said nothing more after that. Diane stared at him for a while longer but soon gave up. She stepped forward and rested her head on Faust¡¯s shoulder, her free hand shifting his arm to wrap around her waist. Faust couldn¡¯t help but smile at that, his chin resting on her hair. He could smell the lavender perfumes that enveloped her hair, along with the traces of gildleaf oil.

    ¡°I love you,¡± Diane muttered softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

    Faust frowned. He debated on telling her about Cyrus¡¯ offer, about how the Emperor had wanted him and her to go somewhere safe to start a family. It was a tempting choice. No fighting, no death. Just a peaceful life. The offer seemed even more tantalizing now that he thought about it. In three weeks, he was to be deployed south, near the ruins of Argen. Of course, he would get a break half a year after, but that would probably last a month at best before he was called back to the field.

    In that time, his life would be at risk. His luck strained. Perhaps he should take the offer?

    ¡®No. Don¡¯t be a coward. Good men have died on those lines. Men who never had the chance to take such an offer.¡¯

    Yet, the Centurion knew those men personally. He had a feeling that they wouldn¡¯t want him to throw his life away so carelessly. They¡¯d probably encourage him to take the peaceful way out. To live his life in happiness. Faust¡¯s frown deepened. He felt his stomach twist at the thought of those he fought with. No matter what choice he made, he would be leaving his men to die. Yet, at the same time, Faust did not want to leave his soon-to-be wife in mourning.

    He needed a middle ground. He needed to make an impact while also following his Emperor¡¯s wishes.

    ¡®One more tour. One last chance to tilt the scales. After that, I¡¯ll take the offer. Regardless of whether we¡¯re losing or winning.¡¯

    The Centurion made his choice then and there, in the peaceful balcony that held the scenic view of celebration. It was sickening to think that such a decision could be made in the presence of beauty.

    ¡°I love you too,¡± Faust finally said to Diane, his hand tossing the wine into the nearest plant. He cupped her chin and raised it so she could face him. She gave him a beaming smile, her lips separating ever so slightly. They kissed despite the lipstick.

    Not yet.

 B.4 Chapter 31: Awaken, Draugr

    Some argue that Physical Casting is a separate art in and of itself, distant from the traditions of Spell Casting. The reason lies in the application. Castings such as Instant Reflex and Adrenal Surge are nearly impossible to learn and perform without the use of Rune Marks (The art of imprinting the spell¡¯s rune onto one¡¯s body).

    An even bigger contradiction is Power Strike. Said to increase one¡¯s strength by two to threefold, the casting relies on the user¡¯s base strength to cast. Further study dictates zero cases of Mages and Sorcerers even carrying such a casting. Of course, there is the argument that such a requirement of strength is distasteful for casters of the like. Many Wizards much rather choose a useful spell that requires half the work and cost.

    The scholar muttered as he read the words on the page, his finger trailing across the written texts. He stopped at the last paragraph, frowning a little.

    ¡°What troubles you so?¡± Wizard Alfred said. The aged man raised his head from the book he had been reading. Despite being well into his forties, the Wizard still had remnants of his youth left over.

    ¡°Rune Marks,¡± the scholar responded. ¡°The book says that since they¡¯re a requirement for Physical Castings, it classifies them as a separate form of magic. Or at least, it implies so.¡±

    ¡°Ah yes,¡± Alfred nodded as he laid back against his chair, his hand bringing a pipe to his lips. ¡°Well, there¡¯s no definitive answer. Despite that particular text being written decades ago, the argument still rages on to this very day.¡±

    The scholar raised an eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s stupid. Why not just classify Rune Marks as their own separate technique? Like Cyrstalchemy or Convergence.¡±

    ¡°Because¡­¡± Alfred exhaled smoke. ¡°Some people like to argue about pointless things. Besides, many Wizards like to bring up the fact that Rune Marks can also imprint Spell Castings, such as Fireball and Ice Bolt. Which makes the practice a subsidiary of Spell Casting. Others argue that a subsidiary cannot hold castings that are exclusive to it. And so the debate rages on, centuries after Rune Marks were discovered.¡±

    ¡°So, nothing but the arguments of old men,¡± the scholar muttered as he looked back at the texts.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you can find some dusty scrolls of men arguing the same thing,¡± Alfred said with a chuckle. ¡°Let me bestow a modicum of wisdom to you. Forget the arguments. Focus on the magic itself. You''re a budding Cryomancer, are you not?¡±

    The scholar nodded.

    ¡°So focus on that branch. Practice with it. Learn everything you can of it,¡± Alfred said. ¡°Once you¡¯ve perfected the art, then you can move on to others. Take it from me. I made a fool¡¯s error of trying to learn all I could in my youth.¡±

    ¡°But you became a Wizard?¡± the scholar said with a hint of confusion. ¡°Earned your pins before you even hit thirty. That itself is achievement enough, is it not?¡±

    ¡°The title of Wizard is one that has been bogged down over the centuries,¡± Alfred sighed. ¡°The pins are now given to any Sorcerer who even has an inkling of an idea of all the branches of magic. Wizards are supposed to be men of stature. Knowledge. Wisdom. Power. Nowadays, it is a fancy title for advanced Sorcerers. Even now, there is much I do not know. Much I have not mastered. That is why I tell you to study what you are good at and worry about the rest later.¡±

    ¡°I suppose you are right,¡± the scholar said with a nod. ¡°Besides, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve heard of Lumen Knights becoming Wizards.¡±

    ¡°Right you are,¡± Alfred agreed. ¡°Even if you were to qualify, you¡¯d probably be turned into one of Delphine¡¯s Priests. I doubt you¡¯d want that. There aren¡¯t many books in that church of hers.¡±

    The scholar cringed at that and shook his head. ¡°No, I¡¯d much rather be a Lumen Knight. Even if it is quite dangerous.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll put in a good word for you when they pair you with a battle brother,¡± Alfred said as he went back to his book. He took another puff of his pipe. ¡°Perhaps I can arrange for you to be with the Ardel boy. Someone with the battle prowess of a brute to contrast with your meticulous spellcasting. Quite a nice combination.¡±

    The scholar nodded, his gaze moving down to his left hand. He rubbed his index and thumb together, frowning as frost naturally accumulated. He still had a ways to go before he could fully control it, but he had no worries. Youth was on his side, and so was time. Time to refine his castings and his knowledge. Perhaps even his fighting prowess.

    It was a nice thought.

    <hr>

    The real world came snapping back like a flash of lightning, awakening the young man from his sleep. He gasped as he awoke, his body thrashing about. His head flared with pain and voices, all of it rushing into his mind like a violent storm. In a fit of confusion, he clutched his head, a pained yell coming out his lips.

    What was happening? Who was he? Why was he in so much pain?

    The young man, no, Scholar? Wait, wasn¡¯t he a Centurion?  He was an Outlander. No, scratch that, that didn¡¯t seem possible at all. None of it seemed right, yet it all made terrible sense.

    Three different worlds crashed together. The blinding lights of the modern world, the endless libraries in Lumen City, the streets of Arendton and its colors. It all swirled in his head, memories clashing and personalities mixed. What was he? Was he a Centurion? A Scholar? An Outlander?

    Three distinct names all spoke to him, each of them valid. Yet only one was rightfully his. The more he thought about it, the more painful his memories became. It pounded against his skull like a ringing bell, threatening to turn his brain into mush. As the confused man screamed in pain, hands began to hold him against the bed. He struggled and squirmed, trying to slip from their grasp in a panic.

    He needed to go somewhere. But where? Lumen City? Arendton?

    Yorktown, a voice seemed to tell him. You need to get to Yorktown.

    The young man stopped his struggles, his migraines growing too great to bear. Blinding pain flashed across his brain, his body shuddering in response to it. Yorktown was important to him. But why? The Centurion side had never been there and failed to understand. Yet the Scholar and Outlander recognized its importance.

    You need to get back to her, the voice called.

    Her. Who? The Scholar did not know. He never had such an attachment. Yet the Outlander screamed and strained, a name standing out in the cacophony of noise.

    ¡°Emma! Put him under again!¡± a gruff voice called out.

    ¡°I¡¯m trying! Hold him still!¡± a female voice responded in strain.

    Dahlia. That was the name that came to him. Neither Scholar nor Centurion had any personal attachment to it. Only the Outlander, who begged for Yorktown¡¯s safety. For Dahlia¡¯s safety. For everyone¡¯s safety. Right then and there, a memory of his past became crystal clear, drowning out the rest of the mess that swirled in his mind. For a moment, the young man¡¯s pain vanished, his body growing still as the recollection replayed itself in his head.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for putting you in a position like that, uh¡­¡± The shaman blanked a little, her brow furrowed in confusion.

    ¡°James. My name is James,¡± the tired man revealed a sigh.

    ¡°Right. James.¡± The shaman nodded. ¡°You can call me Dahlia.¡±

    ¡°Dahlia,¡± James repeated softly, his eyes on the woman who had summoned him. She was giving him a half smile, a sort of mischievous grin mixed with amber colored eyes that glinted with curiosity.

    </blockquote>

    James. His name was James.

    ¡°May you find peace in your dreams, Sleep,¡± the woman from earlier chanted out something. Almost instantly, James felt its effects. His body went slack and his eyelids fell with the weight of rocks. Before he knew it, he had fallen back asleep.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    <hr>

    Screams. The smell of burnt wood. The pain of dying.

    James stirred as he awoke from his nightmare, his forehead slick with sweat as he fought the covers. It ended with him upright, lungs heaving as he tried to discern reality from his dreams. He had no idea of what had just happened. In fact, he was more confused awake than he had been in his nightmares.

    At least then, he had the sense of mind. Now, however, the confused man barely recalled his own name. James. That was the only piece of himself he was sure of. They called him James. Sometimes, Outlander. Other times¡­

    ¡°Hng!¡± James clenched his jaw tightly as he winced, a headache overcoming him. Just trying to recall memories was enough to beckon sharp pains. In the moment between pounding migraines, James decided to hold off on figuring out his past. For now, he needed to figure out the present.

    He was in an infirmary bed, that was for sure. The room was empty and clear outside of the wooden nightstand on his right, a small wooden cup on its surface. James felt his throat dry at the sight of crystalline water glinting in the moonlight. James did not waste any time, his hands greedily grabbing the cup and bringing its brim to his lips. It was only after he gulped the water down, however, that he spotted the lumbering man standing at the doorway. In the low light of night, he almost blended with the darkness.

    James reacted like any sane man. He recoiled in shock and scrambled away as he tried to find something to defend himself with. Of course, there was nothing for him to use as a weapon. He ended up nearly falling off the bed, his body shifting as he tried to keep himself upright.

    The entire time this happened, the man in the darkness only watched. He had his arms crossed, eyes studying James.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± James spat as he sat upright. He had to do his damnedest not to shake. It was a difficult task, his hands sporadically trembling despite the lack of fear. ¡°What do you want from me?¡±

    The man said nothing. He instead turned around and walked out of the room without so much of a noise. James stared at the doorway, unsure of what to think of the situation.

    ¡°You were screaming in your sleep,¡± someone said to his left. James jumped and whipped his head to the source. He didn¡¯t even see this person. They sat at the end of his bed, the chair reversed so they could rest their arms on the back support. Through the sparse moonlight that poured through the window, James could make out a young woman, her dark hair brushed back and her only eye staring at him. White bandages wrapped around a third of her head, covering her left eye and part of her forehead.

    Almost instinctively, James touched his right eye, his hand feeling gauze. He hadn¡¯t even noticed that lack of sight due to how dark the night was. Now, however, the difference was glaring.

    ¡°Lukas just wanted to make sure you weren¡¯t being killed,¡± the woman muttered as she watched him. She was dressed in foreign clothes, a light black cloak wrapped around her torso. Her left hand was holding a piece of wood, her right wielding a small dagger that whittled away pieces and chunks.

    For some reason, James felt as if he should have known this person¡¯s name. Yet, his mind came up blank. Who was she? She was definitely familiar. A much more welcome sight than the man he had just seen earlier. As James pondered, he couldn¡¯t help but rub his fingers against the spot where his right eye was. Something dreadful told him that he¡¯d never be able to see out of it again.

    ¡°No, you¡¯re never going to get used to it,¡± the woman said, answering the question that had appeared in James¡¯ head. ¡°Not entirely.¡±

    ¡°What is this?¡± James asked in a weak voice. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    The stranger paused, her interest in the piece of wood lost for a moment. ¡°You don¡¯t remember me?¡±

    James shook his head, despite the darkness. ¡°No. I have no idea who you are. Hell, I don¡¯t think I even know who I am.¡±

    The woman went silent at that, hands clenching the dagger and wood. For a few tense seconds, James suspected that he had said something wrong. Something terribly wrong. Despite the dread that pooled in the pit of his stomach, the woman gave a soft sigh.

    ¡°Get some sleep, James. We¡¯ll talk when that sickness passes.¡±

    For some unknown reason, James did not feel satisfied with the answer. He wanted to protest, to argue. He needed answers, and most of all, he needed to go to Yorktown. For what reason, he still didn¡¯t know. The only thing he was certain of was that he needed to get back there, specifically back to a person. Dahlia.

    ¡°Sleep,¡± the stranger said, a bit more insistent this time. ¡°You need it.¡±

    James set his jaw at that, teeth grinding as he tried to come up with an excuse or argument he could use. Yet he could also feel how his bed called to him, the exhaustion in his body apparent in the way he struggled to keep his single eye open. Before he knew it, he had already laid back on the mattress. He instinctively pulled the covers up to his chest and with it came the comfort of sleep.

    <hr>

    Sunlight, or at least its warmth, illuminated the only window in James¡¯ room. Naomi watched the rays of gold as they grew from a faint trickle to a flood of morning light. She sighed and stood, her gaze falling over the sleeping man.

    James looked like hell. His hair was cut short not long after he was found, as its length had proven difficult for healers to work on his lost eye. His beard was still there but was left in patches due to the scars on his face. Those would heal but a couple were bound to be noticeable.

    Naomi still didn¡¯t know exactly what had happened on that ship. From what the necromancer had managed to tell her, it was supposed to be a peace talk. A negotiation of sorts. He couldn¡¯t give any more details, since it appeared like the man had some sense of amnesia. He didn¡¯t even know his own name.

    ¡®This has strange written all over it,¡¯ Naomi thought as she walked to the side of the bed. She placed her knife on the bed stand, looking over at James with a deep frown. He was paranoid, that was for sure. And an amnesiac as well. Just like the necromancer. What had happened on that ship?

    Naomi stepped out of the room as she contemplated the possibilities, her arms crossed as she racked her brain. Once the door closed, however, Naomi¡¯s line of thinking went out the window. Outside James¡¯ room, was a tall man who waited patiently in the hallway. He wore the golden band that signified him as a Jarl, his eyes glinting with expectancy.

    ¡°He¡¯s still not healthy enough,¡± Naomi said to Lukas Villtur. The Jarl gave a grunt of indifference to that.

    ¡°Then I suppose we¡¯ll have to wait,¡± Lukas muttered. ¡°Do you suppose he¡¯ll even listen to me?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like the necromancer''s situation,¡± Naomi said. ¡°I don¡¯t think he even remembers who he is. Maybe if we give him some time to readjust, he¡¯ll get his memories back.¡±

    ¡°What if we tell him who he is and the situation his clan is in?¡± Lukas asked, not a hint of consideration in his voice. ¡°Surely we can shock him back to his old self.¡±

    Naomi shook her head at that. ¡°That probably won¡¯t even work honestly. Even if it did¡­¡± The Outlander hesitated. ¡°If we dump it all on him at once, there¡¯s no telling what might happen to his mind. We need to tread carefully here. For sanity¡¯s sake.¡±

    ¡°James needs to remember. He should know as soon as possible,¡± Lukas grunted. ¡°They are his people.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re his family,¡± Naomi refuted. ¡°If he were to know that they were under siege¡­ after everything that happened? He¡¯ll lose it.¡±

    In the weeks since James had been here, the situation had devolved. Clans were suspecting that the Jarl was already dead, rumors of his fall echoing within certain circles. Not just that, but word had recently come telling of an armada of savage looking longships surrounding the island Yorktown resided on.

    Trade had been cut off and it was assumed that Yorktown was to be raided in the coming month. Time was not on their side and Naomi knew that there was no way of saving the town from such an invasion. Not without an armada of their own. Of course, James had no idea of the situation his town and clan were in. Naomi couldn¡¯t fathom what his reaction to the news would be, should he recover his memories in the coming days. Hell, she worried it¡¯d break the poor bastard, sending him into either madness or suicide.

    Lukas was silent for a moment, his gaze shifting as he avoided eye contact. The Jarl was difficult to read. Even after nearly a month, Naomi still couldn¡¯t pin down his expressions and intentions.

    The Outlander had met with the Jarl not long after her meeting with James, their meeting serendipitous in the way that both were interested in the same things. James Holter himself. Naomi didn¡¯t know the full extent of what Villtur wanted with James, but she could fathom a guess.

    ¡®Dragon¡¯s Graveyard. He believes James is the key to his success in the upcoming Endeavor.¡¯

    It was a strange logic to bring Holter along for the Endeavor, given their brief history. Why trust and save a man who had just forced you into a truce? Then again, Naomi could vaguely understand the reasoning. Lukas was a rational man, despite appearances and his outbursts. There was a sense of intelligence behind those brutish eyes of his, intelligence that told Naomi that he was willing to do what he could to come out on top. That his plans involved him making important allies.

    And apparently, that plan involved James being alive and well. As much as Naomi wanted to distrust the Jarl, there was nothing he said or had done to indicate he would betray her or James. Regardless, Naomi kept her guard up whenever she was around him. She had more than her fair share of betrayals.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give him a week more. After that, we will tell him,¡± Lukas said finally.

    Naomi didn¡¯t argue. She really couldn¡¯t. Instead, she was relegated to watching as the Jarl turned and walked off. She sighed as he disappeared behind a corner, leaving her alone in the hallway. Naomi rested against the wall, hand against her blindside as she thought to herself.

    ¡®How did I end up here?¡¯ she wondered. She had been living a relatively peaceful life in the mountains of Naki months ago, her only worry being the pesky eagles that usually tried to get at her food stores. Such a minor inconvenience, one that was dwarfed by the massive pile of shit that the Outlander had stepped into.

    Marauders, Lumen Knights, Beholders. Not to mention fractured ley lines and the talk of strange zombie-like creatures. Naomi had found herself amid a conflict that far outweighed the capabilities of a lone Outlander such as James. It was a miracle he had been able to make it this far.

    ¡®Did Thien really throw him into all this without reason?¡¯ Naomi thought. What had been Holter¡¯s quest? What was he promised in return for stepping into this mess?

    ¡®Maybe I¡¯ll ask him when he¡¯s in better shape.¡¯

    Naomi nodded at that as she walked down the hall, a yawn escaping her. She needed some sleep first. Perhaps after that, she could think more about this.

 B.4 Chapter 32: Night of Dissonance

    Dahlia stood high upon the structure, the wood beneath her creaking and groaning. In the eerie silence of night, the sounds were almost distracting. Almost. Dahlia collapsed her spotting glass, hands shaking as she handed the brass tube to Felix. The guard captain accepted it with a grimace, his sights still set on the dark sea north of Yorktown.

    Both of them were positioned on a recently built watchtower, its purpose solely for overwatch on the northern shore. Normally, on a night such as this one, the sea here was pitch black, the only source of any light being the twin moons that rarely ever peeked through the blanket of clouds above.

    However, tonight and all the nights for the past three weeks, the sea had been lit by a line of lanterns and torches, their origins that of the longships that surrounded Yorktown. Orcs, as confirmed by Silas, were holding the shaman¡¯s home in a siege.

    ¡°No changes?¡± Felix asked.

    ¡°None,¡± Dahlia confirmed. ¡°I suppose they brought more than enough food to feed themselves for the coming weeks.¡±

    ¡°Or days,¡± Silas muttered, the orc standing behind the two. ¡°Those ships don¡¯t hold much in terms of cargo. Either they plan to raid soon, or their stores are much more well stacked than what I¡¯d expect.¡±

    Felix paled at that. ¡°Why don¡¯t they just raid us then? Why waste weeks out there?¡±

    ¡°Because Blood-Irk wants us to be scared,¡± Silas growled. ¡°The bastard gets off on the idea of his prey being more helpless than trapped rabbits. He did the same thing to Aldren before he eventually raided it.¡±

    ¡°How long did that siege last?¡± Dahlia asked.

    ¡°Two weeks,¡± Silas said in a mutter. ¡°Back then, his reasoning was that he wanted to gauge the settlement¡¯s defenses and its manpower. Now, I¡¯m sure there¡¯s a different reason for this siege.¡±

    ¡°What might that be?¡± Felix asked with a glance.

    ¡°He¡¯s waiting for James,¡± Silas said. ¡°He must have noticed that Frostbite is nowhere to be seen and probably used his damn Shaman to scry the island for any sign of him.¡±

    ¡°The same Shaman that cast that?¡± Dahlia murmured as she gestured toward the night sky. At first glance, the sky seemed ordinary. Clouds that shifted like black mist in the night¡¯s expanse, the moonlight distant and muddled. It looked normal until a shimmer passed by, quick and nearly unnoticeable.

    It was the effects of a Dissonance Cloud, a domain-type spell that specialized in nullifying magic and canceling out spells. If used in close proximity, it could dispel any and all spells made within it. All but the caster. However, when cast in such a broad area¡ªlike an island¡ªDissonance Cloud¡¯s effects were reduced significantly. Judging from Falrick¡¯s failed attempts at communicating with Vindis, the orcs¡¯ Shaman must have singled out the Cloud¡¯s target to be any that could send out signals to the rest of Valenfrost.

    ¡°Un''aka¡¯s doing,¡± Silas growled.

    Dahlia nodded solemnly, her frown deepening. Despite trying what she could, the Dissonance Cloud¡¯s effects were always there. She waited, stayed awake for days, to see if it would falter at some point. She had figured the Shaman who cast it would eventually have to maintain it and risk recasting the domain. It never happened. Even Falrick had opted to switch out with her, both spellcasters taking shifts.

    The domain spell never went down. It didn¡¯t even falter. It was always up, always blocking signals. Keeping the island in the dark. Dahlia felt like she was going mad. She insisted that there was no way that someone could constantly keep such a high maintenance casting on for so long without a problem. Yet her hunch had failed to yield any truth.

    Whoever the Shaman was, he was good. Better than most casters Dahlia knew. It was clear to her now, after weeks of waiting, that hoping for a false hope was useless. The same went for praying that James would return to help.

    ¡®He¡¯ll return. I know it.¡¯

    Dahlia clenched her jaw and her hand instinctively balled into a tight fist. There had been no word about James for three weeks now, his absence more than concerning to the clan. The Shaman prayed that he did make it through his negotiations safely and had gotten word about Yorktown¡¯s predicament. Perhaps he decided to stay back and plan accordingly, gathering the forces needed to break this siege.

    It was a comforting thought, one that seemed less likely as the days went on. Deep inside, Dahlia began to think of the worst. While her trust for James was true¡ªand she did have faith that he¡¯d be back¡ªit didn¡¯t stop her worry and concern from gnawing at her from the inside. The reality was, there was no way to know if he was alright. Not with that cursed Cloud covering all of the island.

    ¡°Food will start to run low soon,¡± Felix said. ¡°We¡¯ll have to start cutting back on rations and downsizing.¡±

    ¡°Dammit,¡± Dahlia cursed. The siege had caught them all off guard, leaving them without any recourse of action. The Shaman guessed there had to be at least fifteen ships around Yorktown, all of them filled to the near brim with orcs. One orc was said to be as strong as three men, which would make their numbers already overwhelming.

    Yorktown barely had a couple hundred guards and orcs, none of them ready for a full-on siege that was bound to end at any point. Hel, most of their guardsmen were still rookies, their training next to nil, and their experience with orcs nonexistent. In other words, if a raid were to happen, the battle would quickly turn into a losing one. Especially if Blood-Irk chose to raid at all points of the island.

    Helen had already taken the role of Marshal, her authority and orders granted by Dahlia herself. Felix was still the guardsman captain, but Helen would be in charge of making sure the island was hard to raid and even harder to take over. Her experience from the Outsider Wars was going to be vital in the survival of the island and Dahlia didn¡¯t want to take chances.

    All sides were already heavily fortified. Orcs watched the northern and eastern beaches, watchtowers, and barricades slowly being built in anticipation of a raid. Felix and his men were set to fortify and protect Yorktown, as well as watch over the populace. Helen and her assigned men were already at work fortifying the southern beach, the least defensible area so far.

    ¡°Time is running out,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°We¡¯ll have to consider that an invasion is inevitable in the coming weeks. Probably less time than that. Felix, I need you to make sure that no one is allowed near the marketplace or harbor. Increase patrols and try to post as many abled archers on those towers as you can.¡±

    The guard captain hesitated but nodded. ¡°Not many archers but I¡¯ll see what I can do. Most men are busy setting caltrops and barricades. And that¡­ sharp-wire, or whatever Jarl Holter called it.¡±

    ¡°Barbed wire,¡± Dahlia corrected. James had come up with that idea some time ago, taking the design and name from his homeworld Earth. Steel wire with sharp barbs clumped around its curved length. He wanted to use it for the ships, to dissuade raiders from climbing. Said something about it working on pirates from his world. Now, the barbed wire was being widely used around the island, the gnomes and dwarves from New Aldren helping in its construction. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    That idea was one of the many the Outlander had thought about using back during his talks with Dahlia. Another involved making some high-power weapons with the blast powder the gnomes had used for their artificer bombs last Frost. That dream had died quickly when James discovered that the gnome who was responsible for the bombs was killed during the Vindis battle.

    ¡®Dammit, I''m reminiscing again,¡¯ Dahlia mentally reprimanded herself. She shook off the memories and focused her attention on Silas.

    ¡°Silas, how many orcs can use ranged weaponry? Bows, throwing spears, even runes?¡±

    The noble orc shrugged his massive shoulders, his gaze moving to the nearby camp of orcs. They were all busy crafting sharp pikes to place on the gravel beach, their points facing the sea. ¡°A good five or six can use bows,¡± Silas said. ¡°Eight or ten can probably throw spears. Runes, I¡¯m not entirely sure. Might need to ask around and tally the number.¡±

    ¡°Alright, do what you can,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°Keep their skills sharp and post them on towers. Make sure to line the beaches with whatever barbed wire you have left. The same goes for those pikes.¡±

    Silas nodded with a graceful motion, his upper body bowing almost. ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll get on it soon.¡±

    ¡°Good, now get on with it,¡± Dahlia ordered. ¡°Time is not on our side.¡±

    With that, the orc and guardsman moved to exit the tower, their forms wavering as they descended. Dahlia watched them go, a sigh escaping her as she pushed some of her back. The stress was getting to her. Every day, every hour, was a chance that Yorktown could be plunged into a seemingly unwinnable battle.

    ¡®Unwinnable. That¡¯s how I¡¯m looking at this?¡¯ Dahlia mentally scolded herself. When had she grown so apathetic? When did her optimism and faith vanish? Did James¡¯ disappearance affect her? Was that why she expected defeat? Because he wasn¡¯t here?

    <blockquote>

    ¡°I always come back. Don¡¯t worry,¡± James had said with a smile and laugh. ¡°If I don¡¯t, who else is going to protect this town?¡±

    </blockquote>

    Dahlia¡¯s hand clenched around the raven pin on her cloak, tears forming in her eyes. She clenched her jaw tightly, doing her best not to outright scream her frustrations.

    ¡°Where are you, James?¡± she whispered. A small breeze picked up around her, specks of snow and dead leaves brushing against the shaman¡¯s cloak. Dahlia closed her eyes, a shaky breath leaving her as she did something she hadn¡¯t done in months.

    She prayed.

    <hr>

    Blood-Irk took care in his steps, his lumbering form dwarfing most orcs on the deck. He did not do it out of acknowledgment for the bumbling fools. No, Blood-Irk was more caring for his ship, Dremor¡¯s Murmur. Despite the galleon being the biggest of his fleet, its size even dwarfing most Lumen-made vessels, Blood-Irk¡¯s weight and height were enough to tilt the ship just slightly. The deck was enough to fit ten orcs shoulder to shoulder, yet even to the orc chieftain, it was far too small.

    ¡°Where is Shaman Un''aka?¡± Blood-Irk ordered in a deep booming voice. Some of the orcs before him all refused to meet his eyes, their gazes focused on the deck. One, however, answered his question.

    ¡°Stardeck, Blood-Irk,¡± Jashen responded with a curt nod. Half the orc¡¯s face was burned off, a remnant of when their base on Adrien had burnt to ash. Blood-Irk let out a grunt before he turned his focus to the other end of the ship. He walked with slow care, his steps shifting the weight around.

    The galleon was big, made by Blood-Irk¡¯s own orcs back in Atrox. It had been built of scavenged and looted ships, their hulls and masts nailed crudely together. While its appearance was nothing pretty, the ship was a massive fortress in itself. Capable of housing well over fifty orcs, its main purpose was to act as Blood-Irk¡¯s base of operation. Its lower decks were filled with rations, weapons, and relics from other countries and cities.

    Of course, despite its massive size, Blood-Irk always had a hard time navigating. For example, he couldn¡¯t physically go beneath the decks. Restricted by his towering height and size, the Chieftain was always above the deck or in his quarters, which was also specially made for him.

    Blood-Irk grunted as he carefully climbed the steps to the raised deck, his boot straining the wood. Once he was up, he caught sight of the shaman. Un''aka was a man with dark-tanned skin, and his hair was a wild mess. He was smaller than most of the orcs, his height being around the average human.

    The shaman wore a cloak of animal fur, its origin unknown to the orc. He didn¡¯t care much about that sort of thing. Under his cloak, he had traditional hide armor and clothing, and almost all of his articles of clothing were naturally procured. Trinkets of bone and crystal hung from his neck and arms, where they contrasted with his intricate tattoos.

    While human, Un''aka was someone that Blood-Irk had no intention of killing. Not when the shaman had saved him more times than he¡¯d care to admit.

    ¡°How much longer are we going to be here?¡± Un''aka asked, his amber-colored eyes glancing at the orc Chieftain.

    ¡°Until the Draugr returns,¡± Blood-Irk answered in a low growl. ¡°I want him to see me destroy this island. I want him to experience the humiliation I did back when we last met.¡±

    ¡°Word in the winds say that Holter was killed by Jarl Falk,¡± Un''aka said. He had a calm demeanor about him, his body graceful as he turned around to meet Blood-Irk. For some reason that the orc couldn¡¯t grasp, every movement the shaman made was made with grace and precision.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°James Holter, the Draugr, was killed weeks back,¡± Un''aka repeated. ¡°The news is recent. All the talk around the south.¡±

    Blood-Irk gritted his jaw, his anger flaring through his nostrils. ¡°Lies.¡±

    ¡°Truth from what I¡¯ve heard,¡± Un''aka said calmly. ¡°Jarl Falk had even procured his main vessel as a trophy of sorts.¡±

    ¡°Those are lies!¡± Blood-Irk boomed. The air became silent, the clamoring of orcs and even the whistles of the wind dying quickly. Un''aka stared at Blood-Irk, his expression not changing one bit. That always annoyed the orc, how the shaman reacted little to his outbursts. A fine quality but annoying.

    ¡°I am just telling you what people are saying around Valenfrost,¡± Un''aka sighed. ¡°Take it as you will. I am just letting you know that our time here will soon have consequences. The orcs will become restless, Blood-Irk. If they spend a month like this, then there is bound to be conflict. Not unlike the one Silas had started a year ago.¡±

    Blood-Irk tensed at the name of the traitorous scum. He grunted. ¡°What do you suppose we do then?¡±

    ¡°I suppose nothing,¡± Un''aka said sharply. ¡°I am no leader or commander. I am simply telling facts. What happens next is entirely up to you.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Blood-Irk growled. He turned away from the shaman, his gaze falling upon the distant island. He resisted the urge to rest his arms on the railings. He knew he¡¯d break them. ¡°Two weeks. After that, we raze it all to the ground. Draugr or no Draugr.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Un''aka said, a hint of exhaustion in his words.

    Blood-Irk did not say anything more as he headed back down to the main deck, leaving Un''aka alone on the stardeck. The shaman was an outlier in his clan of kinsmen, a human that had joined Blood-Irk long before his journey to the north. Un''aka had been very useful for Blood-Irk when it came to slaughtering most of the barbarian clans on Atrox¡¯s eastern coast. Very useful when it came to buying and selling weapons and armor. And invaluable when it came to the alchemical potions and magical runes he provided.

    Blood-Irk had forgiven Un''aka for his misfortune of being a human. Amongst his own, the shaman was treated well and with just as much respect as any orc who bore the Blood surname. His value was immense and it pained the orc to know at the end of their conquest, Un''aka would have to be slaughtered along with his human brethren.

    Blood-Irk was a thorough orc. When he made the promise to wipe all of humanity from the islands of Valenfrost, he didn¡¯t plan to compromise. Not even to someone like Un''aka.

 B.4 Chapter 33: Centurions Honor

    What is honor to you?

    Faust watched as the flames of the pyre burned the body of Dasius Phin, the corpse flaring as orange tongues of fire licked and consumed it. He watched the grisly scene, stomach lurching as he recalled the fight that had claimed the young legionnaire¡¯s life. Dasius had taken a hammer blow to the chest, the strike shattering ribs and puncturing lungs. Yet he held on long enough to warn Faust and save his life despite formerly hating the Centurion.

    ¡®Damned idiot.¡¯

    Faust gritted his teeth as the flames flared up again, the heat prickling at his face. He stayed where he stood regardless, his arms crossed as he watched the young man¡¯s corpse burn to ash. Despite his promise to him.

    ¡°Your grave will be covered in the finest of flower buds, with a chorus of beautiful women singing out your tale. Your name shall be immortalized in the form of these woodlands, as to preserve its beauty and history.¡±

    He had promised Dasius. Yet, Faust was forced to allow the men to burn the body, all because the boy had no family house and no relatives to pay the burden of holding his remains. Not even Faust could afford to pay to bring the body back to Arendton. Not when the trip was months long and treacherous. To go through all of that was considered a waste, according to the Legates. There would be no funeral for young Dasius. No honor for him.

    ¡°Faust,¡± Silvano called.

    The Centurion turned to the Legate, who stood nearby with folded arms. He had a worried look about him, his wrinkled face contorting as he frowned. Faust only stared, not a word coming out of him. How could he speak? What was there to say?

    ¡°I would prefer to be alone,¡± Faust muttered finally, voice nearly drowned out by the crackling flames. Silvano sighed at that before he stepped up to the young Centurion. The Legate placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping tightly.

    ¡°There was nothing you could¡¯ve done, son,¡± Silvano said softly.

    Faust scowled. ¡°I could¡¯ve packed steel vials instead of glass. I could¡¯ve returned to camp sooner had it not been for my ambition. My hubris did this, sir.¡±

    ¡°Your hubris bought us precious time,¡± Silvano said, his brow narrowed. ¡°We now know of the traveling patrols near the Erden Forests. Using the information you brought us, we know to avoid their path. While it will take a little longer, our new course will still save us the trouble with those scouts. We can now march straight for Fort Garnet without interruption.¡±

    Faust gritted his teeth, breaking eye contact with the Legate. He rubbed at his eyes, another scowl appearing on his lips. He thought about Dasius, the kid¡¯s eyes going blank as his soul left this world. Why was he feeling somber about him? He had only known the soldier for a few months. Faust knew men for far longer and lost them at more critical battles.

    Why did a simple man¡¯s life matter so much to him?

    ¡®He was never supposed to die. Your insistence to keep going got him killed. You are responsible.¡¯

    A voice deep inside rumbled these words to Faust, the truth of the matter gripping him like no other. The Centurion set his jaw at that, his hands balling into fists.

    ¡°Faust,¡± Silvano spoke once more, catching his attention. ¡°Steele yourself. There is much to come, much to conquer. Cyrus himself is coming to the frontlines to oversee our progress.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Faust asked, confusion settling in. ¡°Cyrus is coming here?¡±

    Silvano nodded. ¡°He is set to arrive toward the beginning of Sommar. I am set on capturing that fortress for him before his arrival. Do you understand?¡±

    Faust slowly nodded. There was no time to grieve for the dead man. No, he was here to conquer and take. To fight against the Lumen Kingdom and come out on top. He was here to make a difference. The fortress would be a turning point if they captured it. There was no doubt about it.

    ¡°Good man,¡± Silvano patted Faust¡¯s shoulder. He turned to leave, but Faust grabbed his arm.

    ¡°Put me and my Century on the frontlines,¡± Faust muttered, his gaze locking with the Legate. Silvano raised an eyebrow at that, lips growing thin as he visibly contemplated.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± he asked slowly. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Faust growled. ¡°Let me fight them up front, like true men. Allow me to become the Legion¡¯s gladius, tip pointed at Lumen throats.¡±

    Silvano slowly nodded. ¡°I shall consider it. Sleep on this, Desimir. Come to me tomorrow when your mind is fresh and clear.¡±

    The Legate pulled free and walked off, leaving Faust alone at the dwindling pyre.

    <hr>

    ¡°Honor is dead.¡±

    The fortress burned a bright orange, ash filling the sky as Faust watched it all collapse. He stared at his handiwork, horrific screams sounding out into the sky as ash fell around him. More Legion soldiers rushed past him, banners flapping in the wind as they all shouted their war cries.

    It would be for naught, Faust knew. After the death of Leonard Kord, the Lumen front was broken and scattered. They did not last long against the force of Faust¡¯s Century and the reinforcements that had come from the nearby war camp.

    ¡®Honor died a long time ago,¡¯ he thought as he looked to the sky. Bands of light shone in contrast to the black clouds, an assortment of colors visible within them. Scrying from multiple sources. A sign that history was in the making. Faust grinned at the sight, his eyes closing as he felt Caelus¡¯ blessings run their course through his body. Wounds slowly healed, his breath coming out in puffs of steam.

    ¡°Faust?¡±

    The Centurion blinked and forced himself to turn. Despite the regenerative powers granted to him, he was still heavily injured from his recent duel with the Lumen Knight. He blinked and wiped his eyes at the sight before him. A man clad in heavy ornamental armor stood there, eyes wide and mouth agape. Almost as if in horror. He stared at Faust, gold helm held tightly in his gauntleted hand.

    ¡°Emperor,¡± Faust managed out. He went down on a knee, his head bowing as he caught his breath. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of a nearby corpse, eyes still staring at him. Despite the charge of his soldiers, none had dared trample the body of Leonard Kord. Faust almost wished they did. Maybe then, he¡¯d be spared from the dead man¡¯s gaze.

    ¡°Faust,¡± Cyrus muttered. Faust raised his head. The Emperor was watching the burning fortress, its flames now reaching a peak. ¡°What have you done?¡±

    ¡°My job,¡± Faust said. He spat blood onto the dirt, his breathing growing sharp with pain. ¡°I killed their champion and took their fortress.¡±

    ¡°So you burn it down?¡± Cyrus asked, voice wavering as he looked down at Faust. The Centurion blinked at the reaction his Emperor had. ¡°What of the civilians within?¡±

    ¡°I told the men to kill those who resist and pillage what they could from the ashes,¡± Faust said as he stood back up. He almost fell down from the sudden act. ¡°As for the fortress, it needs to be burnt down. If only to prevent them from taking it back.¡±

    ¡°You did what?¡± Cyrus said, his eyes locking onto Faust¡¯s. As their gazes met, the Centurion could swear those screams grew more pronounced. ¡°You did what?¡±

    ¡°I did my job,¡± Faust spat, legs stumbling as he stepped forth. He held his ground, standing on his choices. ¡°I did what was needed.¡±

    Cyrus stared at him, expression darkening as he visibly clenched and unclenched his jaw. After a moment, he looked at the body of Leonard Kord. ¡°You killed their champion. Their Lumen Knight.¡±

    ¡°I was left with no choice,¡± Faust said. He straightened himself, his hand clenching to his gladius tightly. Almost as if he was worried that it¡¯d be taken away from him.

    ¡°There is always a choice,¡± Cyrus muttered. He turned back to the Centurion, his darkened expression slowly dissipating. He visibly sagged, his body losing some of its poise as he looked Faust in the eye. ¡°What has happened to you, Faust? How did you end up like this?¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡± Faust asked, almost venomously.

    ¡°Like an uncaged raptor, hungry for blood,¡± Cyrus said. ¡°I see it in your eyes now, that¡­ thirst. What has happened to the man who pledged himself to our oaths? To his honor?¡±

    ¡°Honor is dead!¡± Faust shouted, forceful with his words. The image of a dying Dasius flashed in his mind. ¡°Honor died years ago! Centuries even! It died when that cursed wishing shrine appeared and when that bastard of a man wished himself to become God! What honor is in that? What deities allow such a thing to exist?!¡±

    The Centurion gestured to the burning fortress. ¡°This? This is NOTHING compared to what will come in the next turn of the century. Do not lie to yourself, Cyrus. We all know the shrine will return then, enticing the greed of all men. Is that not why we strive to quell the Lumen Kingdom? So it does not get the chance to conquer all of Azurvale? To rule over all with an iron fist? I did us a favor by killing Leonard Kord! If I need to kill all those like him to ensure peace, then so be it! I serve the Legion and, therefore, its survival. To achieve that, we must ensure they do not get the chance to conquer us at all.¡±

    Cyrus stared at Faust, dumbfounded. There was a long silence between the two, the only sound being the distant crackling of flames and the shouts of men.

    ¡°I see,¡± Cyrus said simply, eyes averted as he looked at the fortress one last time. He sighed softly. ¡°Do what must be done, then. I will see you after this tour is finished, Desimir.¡±

    With that, he turned and walked off, leaving Faust alone on the bloodied field that stood before the flames of the destruction he had sparked. He turned to the sight, the heat blistering even from this distance. Like the pyre that had once burned the corpse of a dead Legionnaire.

    For some reason, Faust forced himself to watch the carnage, his body tense as it stood for hours.

    Dead or simply forgotten, Centurion?

 B.4 Chapter 34: Pressing Forth

    The days went by in a blur. James had no sense of time, as his body was far too tired to even move out of bed. He only watched as his caretaker brought him food or medicine. He didn¡¯t recognize her, not like the woman he had seen that one night, but he found something familiar about her voice. James had heard it before, perhaps sometime before he found himself.

    ¡°Are you feeling better?¡± said his caretaker, her hands stirring some leaves into his tea. The steam rose and twisted from the cup with the scent of mint and horcus leaf. James didn¡¯t know how he recognized the name. It was just something he knew.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± James muttered a question. ¡°Why am I here?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re talking,¡± the young woman said, surprise clear in her voice. She stopped her stirring, eyes glancing at James with worry. She seemed vaguely familiar. ¡°Do you know your name?¡±

    ¡°Of course¡­¡± James forced himself to shift upright, his body aching as he turned his head. Now that his left eye was looking at her, he got a better view of his caretaker. She sat at his bedside, light brown hair tied into a braid that ran down her back. She wore a modest maroon dress, its hem reaching her collarbone and her skirt flowing down to her ankles. Above her green eyes, resting on her head, was a thin silver band. It was similar to the ones that Jarls wore, yet it didn¡¯t seem to scream the same amount of respect and attention. It was a subtle silver instead of brazen gold, with little engravings and no gems. It was fit for the wife of a Jarl.

    ¡®How do I know this?¡¯ James thought as he took the cup of tea the woman was holding out. He took a tentative sip, the bitter tea bringing warmth to his body. He ignored the taste as he drank, his thirst too great to ignore. Once done, he let out an exasperated breath.

    ¡°James. James¡­ Holter. That¡¯s my full name,¡± he said softly, his grip on the cup tightening. ¡°Now, tell me who you are and where I am.¡±

    ¡°I am Emma Villtur,¡± the woman answered. ¡°Wife of Lukas Villtur. You are currently in the Villtur Keep, stationed on the island of Turstead.¡±

    James blinked at that, his mind scrambling to try and find sense in those names. Villtur called out to him, but none of the others did. He winced at the thought of remembering, his hand instinctively going for his bandaged eye.

    ¡®What is happening to me? Why can¡¯t I remember anything?¡¯

    He paused to allow an answer, expecting someone to chime in. Yet there was nothing, only the deafening silence that filled the room. James did not know why he expected an answer. He only felt a tightening sense of dread at the realization that he was alone in his mind. Just what was happening?

    ¡°James, do you recall anything other than your name?¡± Emma asked, voice soft and almost comforting. Yet when James turned to look at her, he felt the opposite. For some reason, he expected there to be someone else. Someone who he cared for more than this person.

    ¡®Dahlia.¡¯

    The name of the woman he supposedly cared for. The one he needed to get back to.

    ¡°I need to go to Yorktown,¡± James said suddenly. ¡°I¡­ I need to go back as soon as I can.¡± Without allowing Emma to speak, James swung his feet out of the bed, his body straining as he tried to stand. In his effort, he only managed a couple of desperate steps. It was after his third step that his legs began to give out. James fell to the ground with a heavy thud, his arm colliding with the wooden floor.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Emma called as she hurried to pick him up. James couldn¡¯t even gather the strength to resist as the woman dragged him back to the bed. ¡°You¡¯re still in recovery! You must rest for now until that fever of yours passes.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t wait any longer. I need to go back,¡± James said, exertion clear in his voice as he sat back on his bed. Now that he was sitting upright, he could see the bandages that wrapped around his side and arms. The one by his side was bleeding through the white gauze.

    ¡®Must¡¯ve ripped open stitches,¡¯ James realized.

    ¡°Delphine¡¯s mercy, you¡¯ve reopened your wound,¡± Emma cursed as she turned away from James. ¡°I¡¯ll have to stitch this back up again.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you just give me something for the pain?¡± James said with managed breaths. He was doing his best not to move too much.

    ¡°Are you asking for a health potion? No. Not when you have that fever. The concoction will do nothing but advance the sickness,¡± Emma explained as she headed to the door. ¡°Stay put. I will be back soon.¡±

    ¡°Health potion?¡± James mumbled as the Jarl¡¯s wife left the room. ¡°What, like in video games?¡±

    The image of the classic glass bottle appeared in his mind, complete with cork and red liquid. For a moment, he thought he was getting punked. Of course, the pain made him doubt it. Not even a minute later, Emma returned with what looked like a leather satchel of items. She sat near his bedside, hands digging into the satchel. She brought out some twine and needle, setting them on the nightstand with nonchalance. Before James could ask her anything, Emma handed him a small copper vial.

    ¡°Moon Dust extract mixed with some water,¡± Emma said. ¡°No healing properties, but it should ease the pain a little.¡±

    James eyed the vial, its top sealed by a cork. As he debated on drinking it, Emma began to undo his bandages.

    ¡°Hey!¡± he exclaimed with a wince.

    ¡°I have to stitch your wound back together,¡± Emma said sternly as she unwrapped the dirty gauze. ¡°The only other healer is in town, and I¡¯d rather not risk your wounds getting infected while we wait for him. So stay still and drink that vial.¡±

    James frowned at that but decided not to resist. He only watched as Emma finally pulled off the final layer of bandages, revealing the wound that had opened. It bled little but enough to stain his entire left side. James winced in pain as Emma began to clean it, her hand patting a cotton pad against the bloody wound. He looked at the copper vial in his hand, which almost beckoned for him to drink it.

    In the end, he submitted to it. James¡¯ hands shook a little as he pulled the cork off, revealing the milky liquid within. He took a deep breath, hesitating a little before he drank it. The taste filled his mouth like a glass of sweetened milk, the taste of cinnamon prominent. For a moment, the taste brought him a feeling of warmth and a sense of nostalgia, like a mother¡¯s love mixed with the memories of childhood. Not that James could recall anything of it.

    The pain was brushed aside not even a second later, his body growing warm as he relaxed. It was as if James had been in constant discomfort for decades, and all of it was washed away by the concoction. For a minute straight, James embraced this feeling of tranquility. He didn¡¯t even notice Emma¡¯s words until she shook him slightly.

    ¡°Stitches are done,¡± she said, cleaning her hands in the nearby wash bin. James blinked at that, and the moment of peace disappeared. His pain came back, not in force, but in the sense of an aching that grew more annoying by the second. He looked down at his side, where new bandages were wrapped around him. How much time had passed?

    ¡°I assume this is your first time taking Moon Dust?¡± Emma asked as she dried her hands. ¡°I can tell by the way your eyes were staring at nothing. Even when they weren¡¯t looking at anything remotely interesting, they were still full of awe and wonder.¡±

    ¡°I never had it,¡± James confirmed with a mumble. ¡°But¡­ I know that you can be addicted to it. That it turns your brain to mush. That¡¯s why alchemists use it sparingly and why some make it so you get potion sickness from drinking too much.¡±

    Emma tilted her head at that, confusion clear in her expression. ¡°How do you know this?

    ¡°Someone told me this before. A friend,¡± James said. He creased his brow as he thought. Who did tell him this? He knew it was someone close to him. It wasn¡¯t Dahlia. It was¡­

    ¡°Ugh!¡± James winced as a pain flashed through his head. The cloudiness comfort from the Moon Dust remnants was cleared away in a second, elevating his senses and bringing back the ringing pains from his wounds. Still, James came out of it with a name.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Seamus,¡± James said, out of breath as he recalled the young man. ¡°Seamus told me at some point.¡±

    ¡°Seamus? As in Seamus Halvorson?¡± Emma asked slowly. Why¡­ Why did Emma seem so familiar?

    ¡®There¡¯s something about her¡­¡¯

    ¡°Yes. I think so?¡± James rubbed at the side of his head, confusion settling in. He brushed aside Emma¡¯s strangeness and focused on the conversation.

    He couldn¡¯t recall what Seamus looked like, but the name was familiar. It all frustrated him how such facts alluded from his mind as if he wasn¡¯t allowed to know them. It felt like he did know what Seamus looked like. He knew they were friends and that they had a history. Yet no memory or recollection came forth. For some reason, he could not drudge it up from the recesses of his mind. It was like the memories were locked away.

    ¡°Emma,¡± James said softly, yet his voice had a hint of harshness. ¡°Tell me what is happening. Why can¡¯t I remember anything? Why am I here?¡±

    Emma hesitated at that, eyes downcast as she tried to formulate an answer. There was something about her that reminded James of someone. Someone else¡­

    ¡°I¡­ I am not to¨C¡±

    ¡°Damn it!¡± James cursed. ¡°Just tell me!¡±

    ¡°James,¡± a voice interrupted him, making both the injured man and caretaker freeze in their spots. James turned to the speaker, who turned out to be the woman who had kept watch on him the other day. Seeing her in the light of day, something in James¡¯ mind clicked, and a name made itself present in the back of his thoughts.

    ¡°Naomi,¡± James muttered. ¡°That¡¯s your name, right?¡±

    Naomi blinked in surprise, her only eye watching him with clear surprise. ¡°Did you manage to regain your memories?¡±

    ¡°No¡­ Just a couple names,¡± James admitted. He winced as another flash of pain flared within his skull, his hand instantly moving to the side of his head. ¡°Can you please tell me what¡¯s going on?¡±

    Naomi hesitated at the question, the expression bringing a sense of dread within James. Just what the hell had happened to him?

    ¡°When you¡¯re better,¡± Naomi said finally. ¡°We¡¯ll talk more when you¡¯re better.¡±

    ¡°What? You can¡¯t be serious!¡± James exclaimed. He held himself back from leaving the bed to confront Naomi. It wouldn¡¯t do him any good to reopen wounds at the moment. ¡°Dammit! Tell me what¡¯s happening!¡±

    Naomi did not answer. Instead, she simply turned around and left the room, leaving James alone with just Emma to keep him company. Soon enough, however, she would leave him too. James just sat there in the bed, with no one to talk to and give him answers.

    He was alone, and for some reason, it terrified him even more.

    <hr>

    Lukas strolled around his keep, hands clasped behind his back. He had little to do that day, his duties all revolving around making sure Jarl Holter was able to recover in time. Other than that, the Jarl of the Boar Clan had very little to do. In fact, most of his more repetitive tasks were handled by bookkeepers and appointed mayors, with his involvement in his clan being next to nil overall.

    Lukas inherited most of it. After the death of his father, most of the Boar Clan¡¯s responsibilities went unchanged. After all, they were handled by men hired by the late Jarl. Well, except for the menial labor. That was the biggest change after Lukas¡¯ takeover.

    Who knew banning the practice of slavery would bring a small-scale war and division between an age-old clan? Lukas did, and he prepared for it when the time came. Old Jarl Villtur was a man who had built his legacy on the backs of slaves, and his use of them was seen as just. After all, they were just captured enemies and criminals. People who didn¡¯t deserve to be treated as human. A lifetime in bondage was better than death, they said.

    Lukas did not agree with that. He saw death as a worthy end, especially if one were to fall in battle. Slavery was a cowardly practice, no matter who was master and servant. Lukas had always looked down on it, his disdain well-known throughout Valenfrost.

    When he had taken over as Jarl, Lukas almost immediately had to fight off an attempt on his life. The assassins, paid for by the slavers on his lands, hadn¡¯t lasted long in a direct fight with him. Neither did the ones who tried to fell him in his own bed chambers. Those who wished to poison him also failed since Lukas never allowed anyone but Emma to prepare his meals.

    The Jarl was careful for the first few months of his rule, his focus on making sure Villtur was strong enough to stand on its own feet without the cowardly slavers selling prisoners and capturing peasants on his lands. Of course, those men did not last. It was hard to bargain when one had their throats ripped out.

    Jarl Lukas was not a kind man, but he wasn¡¯t one to enjoy cruel acts. No, his rule was fair and strong. Men would learn to fend and provide for themselves and their families, and soldiers under his command would learn the values of respect and honor. At least, as much honor as a Valenfrost native could learn.

    ¡°A leader should not ask of his people something that he himself is not willing to do.¡±

    Lukas recalled the journal, his lips moving as he recited the words. He stopped his walk, his eyes closing for a moment. He felt as if he was failing as a proper Jarl. Anger clouded his soul, and it was getting harder for Lukas to hold it. Especially when the Endeavor drew near. He can not afford to allow his emotions to take hold of him. Especially when the Villtur Clan¡¯s territory was slowly being pushed back.

    Lukas had initially thought it to be that bastard Vladimir, but he disregarded the thought. Vulpesson¡¯s Jarl was in a treaty with him. To take territory from Lukas was a blatant call for war, one that the Fox Clan could not afford with the tournament around the corner. Lukas could only guess that it had something to do with the Marauders of North or raider parties.

    ¡®But what kind of raiders kill everything and take nothing?¡¯

    It perplexed Lukas. Just a month ago, Farengard went dark. The Jarl had recently gone to take a look and found a massacre. Everyone was dead, the town burnt to ruin, and the island¡¯s farms razed. Yet nothing was taken. The bodies all had their belongings despite how burned and mutilated they were. Farengard was simply attacked. Not even the Marauders did such things without looting or turning the island to complete ash. Something strange was about.

    Lukas¡¯ clan was growing weaker, his soldiers dwindling with every raid and his territory losing ground to both rival clans and damned marauders. The Jarl knew that the upcoming Endeavor was his last chance to turn things around and bolster his standing. Before anyone could realize how exposed he was.

    ¡°I must stay vigilant and keep my vulnerabilities hidden,¡± Lukas recited another quote from the journal, his whispers echoing in the small hallway.

    ¡°Talking to yourself?¡± a voice came from behind. Lukas raised an eyebrow and turned to see his associate standing nearby, her focus on the small pastry she held. ¡°Someone might call that madness.¡±

    ¡°It is a quote,¡± Lukas said, almost defensively. ¡°From a great man.¡±

    ¡°Yorn Halvorson?¡± Naomi questioned as she took a bite. ¡°He seems to be the talk of everyone around the north. A great man, a Jarl who united Valenfrost against a common enemy.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I was talking about him,¡± Lukas confirmed with a sigh. ¡°Unfortunately, he was Valenfrost¡¯s only good man. Killed by a cursed fiend who wields the name of a Hero from the ages of myth.¡±

    ¡°Figures,¡± Naomi muttered. ¡°It seems lately that all the greats are dying. Yorn Halvorson. Some notable Heralds. The last of Kords even.¡±

    ¡°What do you need from me?¡± Lukas said sharply, his temper showing.  ¡°I know you are not here just to talk about men above our station.¡±

    Naomi narrowed her eyes at him. ¡°It¡¯s about James. I heard from Emma that you¡¯re planning to tell him about Yorktown soon. It hasn¡¯t even been a week.¡±

    ¡°He is getting better,¡± Lukas said. ¡°I am told that his fever is all but gone. We can feed him healing potions in a couple days. By then, he¡¯ll be ready.¡±

    ¡°He needs time, fever or no fever,¡± Naomi argued with gritted teeth. ¡°We can¡¯t risk his mental state. For fuck¡¯s sake, Lukas, he lost nearly everyone on that ship. The other survivor can¡¯t even remember his own name! Telling James that his clan¡¯s fate hangs in the balance after what happened will break him!¡±

    Lukas growled. ¡°And tell me, what would happen if he finds out that they¡¯re wiped out? That once he gets over the death of his crewmates, he finds out everyone he ever cared about is gone as well?¡±

    Naomi went silent, her stunned reaction telling Lukas she didn¡¯t think about that.

    ¡°We need him,¡± Lukas continued. ¡°To retake his ship and use those gate runes. For we have no other option. A journey from Turstead to Yorktown is at least three weeks'' worth of travel. Three weeks we do not have!¡±

    There was silence in the hallway, both Jarl and Outlander staring at each other. Finally, Naomi turned around, hands clenched into fists. After a second, she spoke. ¡°I¡¯ll be the one to tell him. Please.¡±

    Lukas straightened himself, a deep sigh sounding out from him. ¡°Fine. I think it is better that he hears this from you.¡±

    ¡°What happens if it breaks him?¡± Naomi asked softly. She didn¡¯t say it with an accusing tone. It was clearly sympathy mixed with pity. ¡°What do we do then?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure myself,¡± Lukas admitted solemnly. ¡°If he falls into a pit of despair, there is little we can do to help. ¡®For strength to come, one must pick themselves up and press forth.¡¯¡±

    Naomi raised an eyebrow at that. ¡°Another quote from Yorn?¡±

    ¡°In a sense,¡± Lukas muttered. ¡°They are words he learned from his closest friend, Einar Blyth.¡±

    ¡°Press forth,¡± Naomi echoed. ¡°I feel as if I heard those words before.¡±

    ¡°They are probably common,¡± Lukas said with a shrug. He turned around and walked away, leaving Naomi to her grim duty.

 B.4 Chapter 35: Otherwordly Tactics

    Dahlia stared up at the small hole in her ceiling, watching as the light slowly made its appearance. It was as if her vision was clouded in dark blue, the edges and interior of her hut unrecognizable as shapes. The only thing she was certain of was that of the small opening that revealed the sky. Purple clouds signified dawn¡¯s approach.

    The shaman turned away from the sight, her eyes shutting as she shifted in her bed. She reached out in hopes of someone to pull her in, but her hands met nothing but the cold. That side of the bed was empty and would be for the coming weeks. Dahlia doubted that it¡¯d ever be filled again.

    ¡®You have to get up. The people need a leader. Helen won¡¯t do it, and Seamus barely has a hold on his own people. Not even Felix or the council can step in. You¡¯re the next best thing they have for a Jarl.¡¯

    Dahlia clenched her hands into tight fists. Deep inside, fear blossomed slowly. It ate her from the inside, threatening to topple her nerves. Yet she remained stoic and tried to push it down, deep inside her soul. Unfortunately, there were times when she couldn¡¯t ignore it. Times like these mornings. Every day, Dahlia feared that her time was done and that the orcs had grown impatient. She shook at the thought of a courier knocking at her shack¡¯s door with news of the imminent battle.

    ¡®Yet, what good will hiding from it do? Pick yourself up, Dahlia, and lead these people through this siege.¡¯

    With a heavy sigh, Frue Dahlia slipped out of bed. She went through the motions of dressing herself, discarding some of the trinkets she usually wore. These people would expect a leader, not a Shaman. Dahlia intended to live up to the expectations. She slipped on her long dress, the wool skirt hanging far past her knees. It was uncomfortable, but she knew better than to challenge tradition. With a huff, Dahlia pulled on a warm tunic over the dress, followed by her belts and sash. After that, she put on a thick shawl that brought her enough warmth to warrant sweat.

    Dahlia brushed her short hair back, making sure that it was at least presentable. After that, she glanced over at the nearby table, where a small golden band lay for her. It had been forged in a rush, made specifically to her size. James never wore a band like this. He never really had the time or money for it. Not that it made much of a difference. People around Yorktown knew who he was and his position.

    However, they did not know that Dahlia was taking over his position. They wouldn¡¯t care about his female companion taking over for him. A shaman at that, too. So Dahlia wore the band and the clothes. All to put on a familiar face for the people. They knew of Jarls and Frues and how they appeared. Golden band and noble clothes. That was all that was needed for Dahlia to garner the attention.

    The Frue fixed up her sleeves, making sure they hid the tattoos that ran across her arms. She fitted on gloves and boots and mentally prepared herself. She frowned a little as she thumbed a small bone necklace. With a sigh, she put it on, hiding the trinket underneath her shirt and dress for no one to see. After making sure her golden band was on right, Dahlia turned and left her small hut.

    It was time to see if their time was up.

    <hr>

    ¡°What do we do?¡±

    Haggard ignored the question as he stomped through the Raven Keep, his footstep pronounced as heavy thumps. The guardsman behind him looked around nervously, his face stricken with worry as he followed Haggard through the Keep¡¯s halls.

    ¡°Sir Haggard?¡± the guard asked once more, meek voice almost drowned out by the larger man¡¯s footsteps.

    Haggard stopped his walk, almost allowing the young man to run into him. The guard stumbled back, almost in fear, as he watched the drifter turn to him with furrowed brows. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Ch-Chancey, sir,¡± the guardsman answered.

    ¡°Chancey?¡± Haggard asked with confusion. ¡°Azurvalian?¡±

    ¡°Third generation, sir,¡± Chancey answered. ¡°My first name is Gunther.¡±

    ¡°Gunther it is then,¡± Haggard muttered to himself. Then, to the guardsman. ¡°What we do now, dear Gunther, is fight! We fight to save Yorktown! That is what we do.¡±

    Gunther went pale at that, his lips quivering to try and speak. Before he could, however, Haggard was already well on his way to the Keep¡¯s innards. To the War Room.

    The doors burst open loudly, Haggard¡¯s massive hands shoving guardsmen aside as he stepped in. A table was at the center of the War Room, flanked by chairs that surrounded it neatly. The ¡®War Room¡¯ was nothing more than a former meeting room that the Thieves Guild had used back when they had owned this building. It sat neatly in the depths of the Keep, hidden by multiple corridors and hallways that twisted around almost as if they were the building¡¯s innards. It lay beyond the main secret room, where a balcony overlooked an expansive landing that looked suspiciously like an open court.

    Nowadays, most of the rooms¡ªthe ones that survived the fire¡ªwere repurposed to fit the needs of a Keep, including treasury, storages, training grounds, and, of course, a ¡®rec room¡¯ added by Jarl Holter himself, filled with things to pass the time. Like the makeshift ¡®foosball¡¯ table James had spent a worrying amount of time constructing. Thankfully, the effort was well worth it. The guardsmen here particularly liked that addition to the Keep.

    Back in the War Room, the main table wasn¡¯t as full as its initial purpose intended. Only three seats were occupied, their owners being that of the Wizard Nathan, Councilwoman Nora, and that gnome Wheaton. Haggard initially had trouble remembering their names. He was a fighter foremost and only recognized the strong.

    Nathan was easy enough to remember. Both he and Haggard had fought together during the Battle for Vindis. Nora and Wheaton, however¡­ Well, Haggard had learned fast that calling them ¡®Annoying Woman¡¯ and ¡®Old Gnome¡¯ was a mistake that could end badly for him.

    Regardless, Haggard had plenty of time to recognize names, as he spent the last month stationed in Vindis¡¯ Raven Keep to vet the city guard and assist Nora in her duties. Basically, he was just a bodyguard. A bodyguard who was itching for a chance to go fight. And gods did the chance arrive.

    ¡°You rat bastards!¡± Haggard shouted as he stomped into the room, Gunther rushing to try and stop him. The guard proved little in slowing his approach. ¡°Yorktown is in danger and you lot decide to not intervene?! What kind of coward shit is this?!¡±

    Nathan turned to Haggard with a worried look, his brow furrowed. ¡°Haggard, the decision wasn¡¯t made lightly. We¡¯ve reviewed the situation from a multitude of angles and possibilities. The best option for us is not to intervene. Not unless we want to lose all we have left of the Raven Clan.¡±

    ¡°It was a¡­ difficult choice,¡± Nora agreed with a mutter. She didn¡¯t even look Haggard in the eye, her gaze downcast as she avoided him.

    ¡°Are you all insane?¡± Haggard asked. He stepped up to the table and slammed a fist on it. ¡°We are the calvary for Virtus¡¯ sake! Yorktown depends on us to come and help!¡±

    ¡°With what army?¡± Wheaton spoke up. The gnome leaned in from his boosted chair, his gaze meeting with Haggard¡¯s. ¡°Most of our forces are in Yorktown. While Vindis¡¯ city guard is at our disposal, we cannot simply send all of them into a fight with an enemy they do not have experience with. Orcs are deadly, Haggard. Each one is worth the strength of at least two men.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m worth thirty of them,¡± Haggard growled. ¡°We can take them! With Aldren¡¯s guardsmen and a portion of Vindis¡¯ own, we can take them!¡±

    ¡°Haggard,¡± Nathan spoke up again, voice somber. ¡°We scried the numbers. There are hundreds of orcs surrounding that island. Our own numbers are at least eighty men. That¡¯s being generous. Not even mentioning our lack of ships.¡±

    ¡°So we call in a favor from the other clans!¡± Haggard shouted. ¡°Olafson or even fucking Villtur! They can help!¡±

    ¡°With how things are between our clans?¡± Nora asked. ¡°While he did unite them, James did so under a forced pact. They¡¯re not willing to help if the end result means the fall of our clan. They could be seeing this as a chance to escape the pact James has them in.¡±

    ¡°Besides,¡± Wheaton spoke up. ¡°They¡¯re not willing to listen to us, mere underlings. Only Jarl Holter has the authority to call them in for a meeting. So, we¡¯re on our own.¡±

    Haggard went quiet at that, his jaw grinding as he contemplated their words. He wanted to curse them all, to tell them to go to hel for their choice. Yet he held that part of himself back. It would do no one any good to lash out like that. He needed to think about the situation.

    ¡®The first thing any sane man should do in such a situation is to gauge their resources and needs. What do we have, and how can we use it to achieve victory?¡¯

    Haggard recalled those words. They were echoes of a life long ago, back when he was a younger man. They had always helped him in these types of situations, especially when lives were on the line. First, they needed to assist Yorktown in fending off the orcs from attack. Second, they had eighty men that were ready to fight for them.

    What else did they have?The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Haggard?¡± Nathan called out, snapping the drifter from his thoughts.

    ¡°Is that dwarf blacksmith of yours still testing out that project of his?¡± Haggard asked suddenly. ¡°The metal wand one.¡±

    The Wizard blinked at that, brow furrowing as he processed the question. ¡°That¡¯s top secret,¡± he said slowly, hands on the table as he stood up. ¡°How did you¡­?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be seeing you,¡± Haggard said his farewells with a grin, his hand gesturing a half-baked wave as he turned around. Almost as fast as he came into the War Room, Haggard left like an apparition out of a bard¡¯s plays.

    <hr>

    Dahlia Astera was a Frue. A replacement of the Jarl that had once looked over this island. Technically, her duties didn¡¯t change much. Even before James¡¯ absence, Dahlia handled some of the clan¡¯s responsibilities. On the surface, James¡¯ role was mostly authorizing major changes, political disputes, and diverting resources between major departments of their clans. Dahlia was the one who made sure those choices weren¡¯t made half-heartedly, advised funds, and patched up any cracks within any agreements and promises the Jarl made. In some way, Dahlia was preparing herself for the role of Clan Leader.

    As for the other burdens of responsibilities, well they were already handled. Felix and Helen were responsible for guardsmen and island defense, and Nora and Otis handled the clan¡¯s taxation and funds. They had also hired some scribes from Vindis before the siege, thanks to Falrick¡¯s foresight. The old Wizard had vouched for hired pens, and his suggestion paid off in full.

    However, most of those duties seem to dwarf in comparison to one in particular. Island defense. Dahlia needed to act on the siege the town had found itself in. A siege that was never supposed to happen. Despite security measures put into place by James and Helen, the orcs had somehow managed to bypass it all and destroy whatever outposts the White Raven clan had posted in the island¡¯s perimeter. Not many casualties, thank the gods, but Dahlia knew that small blessings would be for naught in the coming days.

    She needed to focus on defending the island and making sure they didn¡¯t starve to death while doing so. Yorktown¡¯s resources were stretched thin, the trapped merchants and visitors taxing their food stores heavily. Even if this kept up for another couple weeks¡ªwhich was generous¡ªthe town would probably fall to half-starved madness before the orcs even made groundfall.

    It didn¡¯t help that they were in the midst of Frost; most of their food stores a mix of dried fruits and salted meats they packed back during the first half of Gale. Dahlia remembered thinking the packed warehouses would be too much back then. Now, she regretted not entertaining James¡¯ idea of ¡®canned¡¯ food. Another idea that was still a work in progress.

    Dahlia sighed as she rubbed the side of her temple, her gaze on the town around her. Windows were boarded up, and men and women were carrying tools and spare lumber for barricading the harbor and northern waterfront. Dahlia had seen a similar sight over a year ago. Back when the marauders had first sieged the small island. That seemed like a lifetime ago now.

    The only difference now was that they were acting on orders rather than paranoia spawned by the fear of marauders. Their fear was still there, but the people handled it a bit better. This was not their first bout with looming danger.

    Dahlia gave one of the men a grim nod as he spotted her, his features lightening a little at the sight of her. It wasn¡¯t much, but Dahlia knew that her presence raised morale around the town. With the absence of their Jarl, they needed to know that there was still someone willing to watch over and protect them. Even if the odds looked grim.

    Dahlia turned her gaze toward the direction of the longhouse, where she was sure Felix and Helen awaited her arrival. They would have to prepare the island for invasion.

    ¡°It¡¯s like a game from my homeworld,¡± James had said when he pointed at the roughly drawn map of Yorktown. This was back when they were setting up backup tactics for the next time Yorktown would be attacked. ¡°Defense. You put some outposts, divert guardsmen to vital areas, and prep up scouts to spot any ship within our territory. When they do spot someone, you hole up and prepare tactics. In some ways, it is similar to some war games I used to dabble in. Only without monkeys and balloons, I guess.¡±

    Dahlia had no idea what that last part meant, but her brain recalled it regardless. Perhaps she was beginning to miss his Earthly sayings and nonsensical words. She bit her lip hard at that thought.

    ¡®Best not to think about him.¡¯

    Time was the essence and the Frue would be wise to focus all of her attention on making sure this town saw the end of this siege safely. That was her duty, passed down by the man she loved more than life itself.

    <hr>

    When Dahlia entered the longhouse, she was greeted by a smoldering fire pit that barely had any life left in it. Most of the ambient light in the building came from the spell crystals that had Illuminate in them, their charges enough to last for weeks, thanks to Dahlia¡¯s improved spellcasting and Falrick¡¯s design. They filled the dark room with a warm yellowish glow, doing a better job of illuminating the space than the fire pit they usually used.

    Before the pit was a long table where they had most of their meetings¡ªor feasts whenever the occasion arose¡ªthe surface of which currently displayed a roughly drawn map of Yorktown, points of interest marked with red. Three of the chairs around the table were occupied by the only people who were capable of defending this island.

    Felix sat on the left, eyes glued on the parchment as he bit his fist. He didn¡¯t even seem to notice Dahlia. Helen sat across from him, a furrowed look as she examined the map. She was the first to note the Frue¡¯s entrance. Between both of them was Falrick¡¯s figure. The Wizard¡¯s wide-brimmed hat was tilted downward, hiding his features as he gripped the edges of the table. Silas was nowhere to be seen, his place possibly being with the orcs as they fortified the northern section of the island.

    Dahlia walked up to the table, feeling every bit exposed in her formal garments. She was so used to the rugged clothes and cloak she always wore, her shaman trinkets and wards granting her comfort. Most of those were now either tucked under her attire or outright abandoned back in her hut. She sighed as she sat, her brow slick with sweat as it stuck to the golden band that wrapped around her head.

    ¡°Most of Yorktown¡¯s perimeter is defended,¡± Felix started first, his voice echoing in the eerily silent longhouse. ¡°We have a small field of barbed wire as our first line, peppered with caltrops courtesy of the New Aldren craftsmen. Some areas haven¡¯t been tended to yet since we¡¯re waiting on Falrick¡¯s rune defenses.¡±

    ¡°Those will take a bit more time,¡± Falrick muttered with a sigh. ¡°I need to personally activate each one. That alone will take up most of my day. Not to mention, they only last for five days maximum. That cursed Cloud of Dissonance domain is interfering with the runes.¡±

    ¡°Best we get those done today,¡± Helen said. ¡°We probably won¡¯t have five days, honestly. No need to worry about upkeep.¡±

    Falrick shook his head, scowling to himself. ¡°I think it is best we focus on warding runes. A protection domain is needed to hold off the brutes if, when, they decide to attack. I don¡¯t really see why we would waste time randomly setting Fireball rune traps on the shores.¡±

    ¡°They were James¡¯ idea,¡± Dahlia finally spoke. She leaned forward, her hand reaching into the small satchel she kept on her. With a quick motion, Dahlia pulled out a few pieces of parchment. On them was the sloppy handwriting of the Outlander. Random scribbles and circles, all of them pointing out defendable areas in Yorktown and the rest of the island. Most had notations, with almost illegible handwriting, that described ideas and tactics for defending.

    Dahlia wasn¡¯t sure when James came up with these ideas or when he decided to scribe them, but she guessed it had been soon after the last Yorktown battle. He had shown them to her not long after Vindis, his reasoning being that he wanted to explore options and perhaps even implement some of his ideas in the near future.

    It seemed now that the near future was closer than anyone realized.

    Dahlia placed a finger on one of the more common ideas scribbled on the paper. Next to the drawn Barbed Wire fields was something James labeled as ¡®Pressure Mines.¡¯ He presented them as tiny Xs, all of them peppered among the gravel beaches and forests. The initial idea involved the artificer grenades, but after that venture went nowhere, James instead decided on modified Fireball runes.

    ¡°Fireball runes aren¡¯t exactly easy to make, especially modified ones,¡± Falrick grumbled. ¡°At most, I can craft perhaps twenty a day. That map shows hundreds of placements.¡±

    ¡°Then we do it in rotation,¡± Dahlia said. ¡°I can learn Fireball. I¡¯ve advanced enough in my studies to add it to my spell list.¡±

    Falrick shook his head. ¡°No. Learn Heal and other restoration spells. You¡¯re one of the few healers on this island that can use restoration magic. I can handle the placements and rune crafting on my own. Might be hard, but I¡¯ll manage.¡±

    Dahlia frowned at that but gave a regretful nod. ¡°Fine. But let me know if I can help. I¡¯d rather not have us skimp out on defenses, spell reserves be damned.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± Helen spoke up, her finger pointing down at a section of James¡¯ scribbles. It detailed the northern and southern forests, with rows of lines drawn. Dahlia raised an eyebrow at that, her eyes searching the hastily written descriptions.

    Dahlia read aloud the description to the room, skipping tangents and other illegible writing. She skimmed over the notes as she read, brow furrowing in realization. She looked up at Helen, who had a bit of a grin on her lips as she, too, read the descriptions.

    ¡°This might be possible, even with the time constraints,¡± Helen said. ¡°Granted, not as many or deep as the ones in the notes, but¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s doable,¡± Dahlia finished with a nod. ¡°Freyja¡¯s mercy, how haven¡¯t I noticed these notes sooner?¡±

    She was so busy trying to implement Pressure Mines and Barbed Wire that she failed to notice the other tactics James had thought of. Granted, not all were possible. But this? This was something that could give them an edge over any orcs who decided to raid the northern and southern shores.

    ¡°It¡¯s settled then?¡± Felix asked. ¡°We can get the orcs on this in the next hour. Hel, pitch in some of the guardsmen, and we¡¯ll get the northern forest covered!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a bad idea,¡± Falrick agreed. ¡°I won¡¯t be able to place down the Fireball mines beyond those lines, but I think it¡¯ll be fine. Barbed wire would probably do the trick better.¡±

    ¡°Then we¡¯re all in agreement,¡± Dahlia said with confirmation. She stood from her chair, her charcoal pencil pointing at two of the lines drawn in the northern forest. ¡°After the orcs secure the shores, have them and some of the men dig these areas out. We can¡¯t cover the whole forest, but with some finessing, we can funnel the invaders.¡±

    Everyone gave a nod at that. Even Felix¡¯s normally crestfallen expression changed to that of a determined and hopeful look. Dahlia had to hold back a smile. While it was good to hope, it was also dangerous to promise a solution. This was something that she had no idea would work or not. Something from Earth¡¯s own history. It made the Frue think about the world her Jarl had come from.

    ¡®I wonder what cycle of violence inspired this,¡¯ Dahlia thought as she looked over the scribblings from the Outlander.

    Trenches: Dig deep, preferably to the height of one man. I think it¡¯s probably smart to dig ditches ahead of the main one. Fill it with caltrops or wooden spikes. Maybe pressure mines if we have access to those. Have a field of barbed wire in front of the trenches to slow down any attackers. Place dirt hills ahead to prevent them from seeing it. Archers and spell casters should hang back, perched high above. Anyone else by the trenches needs to be equipped with runes and pikes. Very important that they know close-quarter fighting.

    Side note: I don¡¯t like the idea of using these in a raid. It''s too bloody, messy, and not even tested here. Best we use this as a last resort, like, say, in another siege.

 B.4 Chapter 36: Die, Die

    James felt the healing properties of the potion swirl in his stomach, the taste of cherries almost overwhelming his tongue. He did his best not to make a face as his body¡¯s warmth increased, his muscles regaining some strength. His patched wounds healed, leaving little scarring. In the end, James felt almost like new. There was still a soreness in him and a numbing feeling in his left arm that he couldn¡¯t explain, but he felt just fine.

    ¡°That was a healing potion?¡± James asked as he looked down at the glass bottle Emma had handed to him. His caretaker nodded as she took the empty bottle away.

    ¡°Man, with that, what¡¯s the point of stitches and meds?¡± James asked as he stood up, his body stretching a little. He was dressed in what looked like sleepwear, a one-piece that was colored beige.

    ¡°Healing potions cost around five valdoras a vial,¡± Emma said calmly. ¡°Vial. Not bottle. Also, not everyone can drink them. If they¡¯ve been drinking alcohol or conflicting potions recently, they will get potion sickness and vomit their insides out. If they have a fever or illness, the healing potion will elevate their condition and speed up decay. The person must also take care when drinking them. The limit is three a day. Any more, and that results in potion sickness. Again.¡±

    James grimaced at that, his dreams of adventuring dying as soon as they appeared in his mind. ¡°Man, talk about buzzkill.¡±

    He had no idea what a valdora was, or what its worth could be. James just recently managed to figure out bits and pieces of his life. Not a lot, but enough to be familiar with Valenfrost to an extent. From what he could gather, he was summoned to this world long ago by Dahlia, the elusive person from his shattered memories.

    Yorktown was his starting grounds, he guessed. Like the town the hero is summoned to before his big adventure throughout the new world he found himself in.

    ¡®Sounding like the anime Nick watches,¡¯ James mused with a short chuckle. He remembered all of his life from Earth. His parents, their deaths, his Aunt Dina. His boss, Kim, firing him. Mia cheating on him with Mike. Nick helping him move his stuff to the curb. The car crash. That lake.

    Everything after the lake was fuzzy and missing. Like a veil that James couldn¡¯t get past no matter how hard he tried. If anything, it only made his Earth memories that much fresher. In a way, it was like he was experiencing Valenfrost all over again.

    ¡°You should take care in moving around,¡± Emma warned as she stood up, hands clasped together. She was shorter by a foot, which surprised James. He had gotten so used to being in bed all day that he never really thought about Emma¡¯s height. Regardless of the difference, the Jarl¡¯s wife stood with regal professionalism, her eyes looking up at James with a studying gaze. ¡°You¡¯ve been in bed for weeks. Your muscles need time to get used to the weight and movement. Be careful.¡±

    As she spoke, someone else walked by. They stood at the door, hands carrying a bundle of clothing. Naomi. She watched James, expression solemn as she waited for Emma to finish her lecture on concerns and responsibilities that James should take. Once done, Emma stepped aside to allow Naomi in.

    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± James asked when Naomi set the clothes on the bed. Once Emma left, she spoke.

    ¡°Clothes. Apparently, your favorite,¡± Naomi explained as she lifted a blue short-sleeved tunic. ¡°Put these on. I¡¯ll be outside.¡±

    James examined himself in his new clothes. A black long-sleeve shirt fitted underneath a short-sleeved tunic dyed dark blue. He had to admit he liked its simplicity. His breeches weren¡¯t half bad, either. They were warm and snug. If he had to change something, it¡¯d be the shoes. Then again, beggars can¡¯t be choosers.

    ¡°You done?¡± Naomi called back from outside the room. James nodded, his hand adjusting the black eye patch over his right eye. It was gone for good. According to Emma, the healers were not able to save it in time. So now James was left with one good eye, not unlike Naomi. In a way, he felt comfortable that he wasn¡¯t the only one. On the other hand, it bothered him how haunting the experience was. He always thought that missing sight in one eye would just result in him seeing darkness like when one closed their eyes. Yet there was nothing.

    Not darkness. Not a black void. Nothing. James could see nothing out of his right eye. He wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about it. Hell, he didn¡¯t even want to think about it. Yet he was reminded of the missing appendage whenever he moved around. It was hard to live without depth perception and even harder to notice people and items in that cursed blind spot.

    ¡°Have I always had this messy beard and hair?¡± James muttered as he brushed his longish hair back. It reached to his shoulders in a way that bothered him. It always got in the way unless he tied it up. And even then, he always did a sloppy job of it. For some reason, it felt like someone else should¡¯ve been doing that. It hurt his heart every time he thought about it. Why?

    ¡°James?¡± Naomi called again.

    ¡°Coming,¡± James answered with a sigh. He stepped out of the room to where Naomi awaited him in the hall. She had on her cloak, its black fabric wrapping around her shoulders as it draped over her torso. Her short brown hair was swept back, and the white bandages that covered her eyes contrasted with the rest of her clothing.

    James looked down at his own left hand, which was also wrapped in white gauze. He had only taken a peek at it once his entire stay here and was disturbed by the blackened skin that covered his arm. He hadn¡¯t unwrapped the bandages since.

    ¡°It¡¯s snowing outside,¡± Naomi said, catching James¡¯ attention. Her cloak shifted, and her hand produced a light green cape. ¡°Not the best, but it¡¯s what Lukas could provide for the moment. It should fit you.¡±

    James accepted the cape, frowning as he swept it over his collar. He had a little trouble, but he eventually managed to get it tied up. The warm wool fabric extended far below his waist, its embroidered edges reaching his knees easily. James shifted, making it so that it cloaked his entire body in its warmth. He was pleasantly surprised to find a hood attached to it.

    ¡°Sweet,¡± James murmured as he pulled it on. Without a word, Naomi nodded and walked off. James followed behind, careful with his steps as he got used to walking again.

    ¡°What do you remember about Valenfrost?¡± Naomi asked after a couple minutes of walking through winding hallways. ¡°You told Emma yesterday that you recalled bits of Earth.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I managed to remember my life back home,¡± James said. ¡°Valenfrost though¡­ It¡¯s all weird. Fragmented almost. I can recall bits and pieces but not much.¡±

    ¡°Do you know anything about Jarl Ivan?¡±

    ¡°No, not really,¡± James admitted. ¡°I know his name, but that¡¯s it.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Naomi murmured. She stayed silent after that. Both of them would soon reach an exit, bringing them outside the keep. James prepared himself for the blinding light of the sun but was disappointed when he saw nothing but dark gray clouds that blanketed the sky. Flecks of snow fell around him, too little to warrant the use of hoods.

    ¡°Frost,¡± James whispered as he pulled his hood back. The cold breeze of the season swept by him, ruffling his clothes a bit. ¡°That¡¯s the season, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Naomi answered. ¡°Do you remember the other ones?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­¡± James muttered as he tapped the underside of his chin. ¡°Frost is winter. After that, it¡¯s spring, so¡­ Bloom. Then it¡¯s summer, the only difference being the way it¡¯s spelled. Sommar. Then there¡¯s autumn. The locals called it Gale, I think.¡±

    ¡°It changes depending on where you go,¡± Naomi said. ¡°In Kasan, Autumn is just referred to as the Fall.¡±

    ¡°Just Fall?¡± James asked with a raised brow. ¡°Are there any other changes?¡±

    ¡°Parts of Azurvale call spring Thaw. Summer is seen as Bloom over there,¡± Naomi explained. ¡°Cultural differences, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Kasan¡­¡± James murmured. ¡°Azurvale. Have you been to those places?¡±

    Naomi nodded. ¡°I was actually summoned to Kasan. Azurvale was told to me by a¡­ a friend.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s Kasan like?¡± James asked. ¡°Does it have a theme going for it, too, like Valenfrost? Let me guess, Medieval Europe with a twist of Aztec architecture.¡±

    ¡°No, actually,¡± Naomi revealed with a shake of her head. ¡°Kasan is more like feudal Japan. Samurai, cherry blossoms, all that jazz.¡±

    ¡°Samurai?¡± James scoffed a little, a grin forming on his lips as he looked at Naomi. ¡°You were summoned to a weeb¡¯s paradise, huh? Wait, does that mean you carry a katana around?¡±

    Naomi smiled a little at that. ¡°Kasan was a beautiful place. Honestly, I never was super into the aesthetic, so everything was kind of new to me. Including the summoning.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± James asked. ¡°My buddy Nick loves that stuff. Especially the isekai stuff. I never really got into it. Life got in the way too often. He did succeed in getting me into MMOs, though.¡±

    ¡°Wait, were you a VOA player?¡± Naomi asked with a chuckle.

    ¡°Vow of Athura? No, not really. I wasn¡¯t super into it. I mean, I played it every now and then,¡± James said with a shrug. ¡°But Nick and I usually just played WOW. We also played this one game, IO, but the learning curve was a bitch.¡±

    ¡°IO?¡± Naomi questioned.

    ¡°Obscure MMO,¡± James explained. ¡°I don¡¯t remember how Nick and I got our hands on it, but we were led to believe it was fun.¡± He scratched his beard in thought. He remembered that day well. He and Nick were genuinely excited to play the game ever since he heard about the realistic and responsive features. Unfortunately, both were met with a hell of a learning curve. It was insane how difficult and grindy it became, with impossible dungeons and a permadeath system that punished the player for being bad. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    It didn¡¯t even take long before James and Nick called it quits and went back to WOW, where they would continue to pour hours of their lives into it before James eventually fell off the grind and had to focus on keeping his job for the foreseeable future.

    ¡°I can¡¯t remember the last time I spoke about video games with someone,¡± Naomi muttered with a sigh. She stopped her walk, letting James take in the scenery. Or whatever scenery that was worth looking at. They weren¡¯t that far from the Villtur Keep; the rocky path they were taking was half-covered with snow. James noted the lack of trees around them, the only thing to look at being the distant town ahead. There, he could see the ocean that surrounded the island, its black waters extending far into the horizon.

    ¡°How long have you been here?¡± James asked. ¡°On Azura.¡±

    ¡°Four or five years, give or take,¡± Naomi said with a shrug. ¡°You lose track of time easily here. Especially if you spend most of it fighting for your life.¡±

    ¡°Five years¡­¡± James murmured. ¡°Since you¡¯ve talked with someone from Earth, huh? Must be strange talking to me then.¡±

    ¡°Not really,¡± Naomi admitted. ¡°You and I weren¡¯t the only Earthlings summoned here.¡±

    ¡°There are others?¡± James asked with surprise. ¡°Seriously?¡±

    ¡°There were others,¡± Naomi said darkly, her tone faltering a little. James could see how something akin to grief flashed in front of her only eye, her cloak shifting as she warmed her hands.

    James decided not to ask about it, his gaze breaking away from Naomi as he examined the clouds above. He wasn¡¯t sure if the day was ending or beginning. The clouds were dark like street asphalt, like a storm was coming. Yet only flakes of snow fell from them, making the scene all the more strange.

    ¡°James,¡± Naomi started. He turned to the other Outlander, who now faced him fully. Her breath came out in a puff of steam, her lone eye watching James like he was about to do something reckless. There was concern painted over her expression. No, not concern¡­

    ¡®Worry,¡¯ James thought as he looked back at her with confusion. ¡®What is she worried about?¡¯

    ¡°I need to tell you something. Something that will give you the answers you¡¯ve been asking for.¡±

    James could feel his chest tighten at the sound of her voice. Just what was happening? He wanted to know what was going on, right? He had been demanding answers for days since his awakening. Why did he suddenly feel as if he never wanted to know? Why did his body want to run away?

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t think I want to¨C¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Naomi interrupted, voice solemn. ¡°But we¡¯ve run out of time. James, there is something I must tell you.¡±

    <hr>

    Goggles made of brass.

    Eyes that held the ethereal symbol of a star with four points.

    The corpses of Oscor and Farin.

    Horuk¡¯s bisected torso.

    The hot blood that stuck to his face as his throat gurgled blood.

    James stood in silent horror as images flashed in his mind. No sounds. No voices. Just the images. Just the death.

    His descent into the Black Sea.

    Arthur¡¯s sword stabbing clear through him.

    Deimos¡¯ psychotic grin.

    The spellcaster¡¯s blood staining his hands like black tar.

    The two moons that shone a blood red upon him.

    James felt his chest tightened, his breath coming out in quick puffs. He couldn¡¯t stop them from coming, no matter how hard he tried.

    Gryff¡¯s corpse flashed next, the cyromancer¡¯s eyes and mouth aflame with ethereal fire.

    Then, the bodies of those who he had failed, their corpses strung up on Blood-Irk¡¯s camps like decoration.

    The real world was moving slowly like it had been dipped in honey. It was as if James had cast Instant Reflex without even knowing it, like a nightmare that was neverending.

    The abomination, its many hands clawing at his face and body.

    Havor¡¯s corpse burning as it slumped in place.

    The begging of a man who had experienced a fate worse than death.

    Deimos¡¯ cold, calculating eyes as he plunged James¡¯ own sword deep into his own chest.

    All of it was accompanied by the same set of words. Words that repeated endlessly in the depths of James¡¯ soul.

    ¡°The more you deny death, the more you avoid it, the heavier your side of the scale becomes. At some point, the scales will rebalance, and they will take whatever is necessary to keep you in check.¡±

    Something inside of him snapped. All the pressure, the stress, and the pain all mixed in with the incoming memories. It came crashing down like a tidal wave. James lost it. He started hyperventilating, his hands moving to his chest as he tried to normalize his breathing. The disgust came right after. He rushed past Naomi, shoving her aside as he stumbled onto his knees. He retched, vomit spilling onto the crystalline snow in front of him. Iendis¡¯s voice repeated in his head as he did so. Again and again.

    The more you deny death, the heavier your side of the scale becomes.

    James clutched the side of his head, wanting to rip the words out of his mind himself. He had died. Actually died. And he came back.

    The scales will rebalance, and they will take whatever is necessary.

    Anxiety, grief, and depression all swirled into one constant knot of pain that twisted and pulled. It was enough to make him go mad. It tightened and swelled, reminding him that he was responsible. That it was all his fault. James slammed a fist on the ground, where snow mixed with gravel. He clawed and scratched at the ground, bloodying his hands as he lost it.

    ¡°Why?! Why?!¡± he screamed those words with choked breaths, his body shuddering with pain. ¡°Why can¡¯t I just die!? Die, die, DIE!¡±

    It all came in so fast, so quick, that he hadn¡¯t had time to process any of it properly. Only the raw emotion that came. That and the looming sense of doom that came over him. His friends. Dahlia. Seamus. They were all at risk of fate¡¯s gaze.

    A mental image of scales rebalancing filled his mind, the blossoms on the heavier side burning into ashes. Just the thought of it shook him to his core. Then, almost like a dawning revelation, a morbid thought whispered to him.

    ¡®Maybe... Maybe there¡¯s a way I can save them. To fix all of this.¡¯

    ¡°Summon Ice,¡± James found himself chanting. His left hand grew cold as it formed the spell¡¯s rune. Before he knew it, the ice had formed itself into what he had commanded it to. A long dagger, not unlike the one Gryff had used on him long ago. That event felt decades old now.

    ¡®I can save them.¡¯

    James gritted his teeth as he brought the knife to his throat, its edge flashing towards exposed flesh. Before he knew it, a foot came out of nowhere. It kicked the dagger out of his fingers, sending it flying into a nearby snow bank. James stopped, eyes watching where the dagger went. He looked up to see Naomi, who looked just as shocked as he.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she almost shouted, body tense as she looked down at him.

    ¡°I... I need to¡­¡± James started, his voice trembling as he tried to explain himself. How could he explain? Did Naomi even know about his cursed dance with fate? About his consequences for avoiding certain death? No. She didn¡¯t. He could tell by the way her single eye stared at him with complete surprise. She hadn¡¯t expected him to try such a thing.

    ¡®Why would she? She has no idea of the consequences.¡¯

    ¡°Summon Ice,¡± James chanted again, bolstering his spell as he kicked himself away from Naomi. Ice shot up before him, jagged edges forming a makeshift barrier between both Outlanders. James stumbled back as Naomi was cut off, giving him a brief amount of time. He used his chance to rush toward where the fallen dagger was, its icy handle protruding from the white blanket of snow.

    Right when he managed to get his hand on its pommel, his cloak was violently pulled back. James was ripped away from the snow bank, dagger in hand, as Naomi threw him to the ground. He didn¡¯t even have time to react as her knee slammed into his chest. Air rushed out of his lungs in a weak shout, temporarily paralyzing James as Naomi slapped the dagger out of his hand.

    ¡°What the hell are you doing?!¡± Naomi repeated. James attempted to resist, but there was a force that lashed and tethered his hands to the ground. He blinked and tried to pull. No use. His limbs were bound to the ground.

    ¡®Magic? She didn¡¯t cast anything!¡¯

    ¡°You have to let me go!¡± James shouted. ¡°It¡¯s the only way I can fix things! Please!¡±

    ¡°Fix things?¡± Naomi stared at him with clear disbelief. ¡°Killing yourself is going to fix things?!¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t understand!¡± James managed out in a breath. He had trouble holding himself together. ¡°If I don¡¯t balance the scales¡­ they¡¯re all going to die.¡± He strained more against his invisible bindings, his body struggling. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hurt you, Naomi. This is something I need to do! Ice Lance!¡±

    Naomi¡¯s only eye widened in shock as James¡¯ spell formed and shot forth. It barely missed, the lance of ice going wide as she pulled away to avoid it. Right there, James¡¯ bindings went lax, and he was able to break out of them. He scrambled to the fallen dagger, which was only a couple meters away.

    ¡°Lash! Tether!¡± Naomi¡¯s voice echoed out behind James. Like before, something invisible lashed itself to his body, and like a rope, it held him back from continuing. James turned to Naomi, who was holding the left side of her head as she stood. He could see how some of the bandages covering her eye were coming loose, close to revealing whatever was underneath. Something akin to a revelation began to form in the back of James¡¯ mind, but it was too little for him to act on it. Instead, he opted for the next best option.

    James pointed his left hand up against the underside of his chin, his finger growing cold. ¡°Ice Lance.¡±

    Naomi¡¯s face fell, and her expression changed to horror as James cast his lethal spell. James closed his only eye, expecting the sharp needle of ice to pierce straight through his brain. Perhaps it would be quick and painless, not a second of agony to spare. James clenched his jaw tightly, awaiting the release. Nothing. He opened his eye, only to see that his spell had fizzled out. He blinked.

    ¡®Dispel. She used Dispel on me. And she didn¡¯t use a verbal command.¡¯

    James turned to see Naomi in front of him, bandages falling apart to reveal her left eye. She looked at him with a sense of determination, both eyes wide with focus as the air shimmered around her in a clear burst of heat. The telltale sign of someone who had recently cast a spell. James could only stare, stunned. As Naomi¡¯s hand reached his chest, James could only focus on the part of her face that the bandages had covered. Her left eye glowed a bright blue, the pupil shaped like a crystalline star.

    Magic flooded James¡¯ body like warm liquid; his exhaustion multiplied threefold. He fell like a sack of bricks, sleep overcoming him in seconds.

 B.4 Chapter 37: Centurions Fate

    Fate comes for all.

    Faust felt like he was dying. He took a moment to regain his composure, his breathing growing heavy as he tried to steele himself.

    ¡°Centurion?¡± Legate Silvano asked. He stopped his walk, eyebrow raising as Faust composed himself.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± Faust muttered. He stood up straight, chin raised high, as he turned to the Legate. He needed to keep up the appearance that he was well, especially in front of the other men. It would do him no good to lose himself now. Not when both men were strolling around the war camp, every grunt¡¯s eye on them.

    ¡°I do hope so,¡± Silvano said with a sigh. He turned away from the Centurion, his hands clasped behind his back. ¡°I¡¯d rather have Caelus¡¯ Champion to set an example to the other men, one that wouldn¡¯t imply that he was a habitual drinker.¡±

    Faust blinked at that, his posture faltering. Caelus¡¯ Champion. The Centurion took a moment to process the words, his mind stopping for a moment. He then shook himself back to reality, almost chuckling at himself for nearly forgetting. Faust was a Champion of Caelus, a status earned from his fight with Leonard Kord a month back.

    Ever since the sudden rise to power, Faust had been training to hone it in. It wasn¡¯t as easy as he hoped it to be. For one, he wasn¡¯t sure what castings and blessings the god had bestowed upon him. The only thing for certain was the runic glyphs burned into his armor, their glow a soft greenish color. Even then, the magic wasn¡¯t special. The protection granted was equal to that of a basic Carapace, and even then, it sapped at Faust¡¯s reserves in the midst of battle.

    Being a Champion of Caelus, it seemed, was a title that did not come with much benefit. Sure, the Centurion appreciated the protection. Of course, he did like the new sense of authority and power he held over his legionaries. Yet despite it all, Faust felt little to nothing was gained from the god¡¯s blessing. The war camp¡¯s priests had told him that he needn¡¯t worry about it. They informed Faust that Caelus would reward him with more power as long as the Centurion continued to garner favor from him.

    It was a stupid prospect. Why would he need to garner favor from a God that bestowed him the title of Champion? He already garnered enough to be recognized. Wasn¡¯t that itself enough favor?

    ¡°What bothers you so?¡± Silvano suddenly asked, his deep voice interrupting Faust¡¯s thoughts. The Centurion gave a dejected sigh as he ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair. The sun was baking him from the inside of his armor despite the elemental protection runes that were engraved onto it.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Faust said curtly. He focused on the walk, hoping¡ªpraying¡ªthat the Gods would show some mercy and send a cool breeze his way. ¡°Just itching to get back onto the battlefield.¡±

    The Legate nodded slowly at that, eyes narrowing. ¡°Of course. Do tell me, Desimir, how many days you have left? Before your tour ends?¡±

    ¡°Well, I suppose you should know that.¡±

    ¡°I forget. Please, remind me.¡±

    Faust frowned but did not argue. He closed his eyes, thinking back to the last time he had been around the main tents. ¡°Twenty days left. I leave for home at the end of Thaw.¡±

    It was strange to say those days aloud. The time for his leave seemed so much closer now that he admitted it to Silvano. Faust couldn¡¯t help but feel a pang of regret in him as he thought about Cyrus¡¯ words. About his promise to himself on that balcony in Arendton. Diane was probably worried sick for him now, waiting for his return.

    The image of the Emperor watching him as he condemned thousands to death. A fortress burning as Faust watched on with grim resolve.

    Faust shook that image away, his eyes blinking as he moved past that memory.

    So much had happened since that time. Faust had done much, killed many, and avenged those who perished. All that was left was the small city of Roma. Lumen troops were reported to be headed to the territory, bent on taking it over and using the flat hills as staging grounds for their raptors and griffin mounts.

    Faust¡¯s battalion was fortunately closer¡ªby a day¡¯s march¡ªahead of the Lumen bastards by a week. However, it also meant they got stuck with defending the small city. Which meant they were bound for either a siege or bloody invasion. Faust did not prefer either. Especially when scouts reported that a Lumen Knight was amongst those troops. Rumors floated around that it was a relative of Kord, making it all the more undesirable.

    As Faust contemplated the possibilities of such a confrontation, Silvano stopped his walk. The Centurion barely managed to avoid bumping into the Legate. As he straightened himself, Faust noted how their surroundings changed. Instead of the bustling war camp, they were on the outskirts, the only life around them being the bright flowers that swayed by their ankles. He didn¡¯t even pay attention to where they were walking. Only that the Legate was taking charge.

    ¡°We¡¯re moving out to Roma tomorrow,¡± Silvano said. ¡°I¡¯d like to cut your tour short and send you home before our march.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Faust said with surprise. He took a moment to process the words before he spoke again. ¡°Send me home? Did Cyrus¨C?¡±

    ¡°He did not ask me,¡± Silvano said. ¡°I promise you. This is a decision of my own.¡±

    Faust stared at the Legate, looking for any signs that the aged man was lying. Then again, Silvano never lied, every word from his lips truthful as the deity that had granted the Centurion his blessings.

    ¡°Why? Why would you send me home so soon?¡±

    ¡°Simple,¡± Silvano answered. ¡°Roma is bound to be a venture that would last months if not years. Either from siege or urban battle. While small, I do not think that the Lumen Kingdom would appreciate us holding it. In any case, you will be overstaying your time here. I doubt there will be a chance for you to back out during the conflict.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps that could change,¡± Faust said. ¡°If we coordinate ourselves, Roma could very well be ours in under a month, Lumen backsides facing toward us.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps, but it is a gamble,¡± Silvano said. ¡°A dangerous one. This is not a fight that can be won with risky tactics and bardic bravado. Roma could very well be the tide that determines this war¡¯s end.¡±

    ¡°Then all the more reason I fight,¡± Faust insisted. He locked eyes with Legate, not daring to break his gaze.

    ¡°Why are you so insistent on this?¡± Silvano asked softly. ¡°You have someone back home, no? Someone who cares deeply for you, I assume. Why would you want to risk your life for this when you can go back home to be with her?¡±

    Faust clenched his jaw tightly at that. It wasn¡¯t that he didn¡¯t want to go back to Arendton, to Diane. Hel, it was he was looking forward to toward the end of this cursed campaign. Yet, Faust couldn¡¯t back down. Not when the fate of the Legion was just a day¡¯s march away. Not when he had Caelus¡¯ own blessing.

    There was a certain poetic justice in the upcoming battle for Roma. One last fight, one that could tip the scales for good. Faust would only need to win. After which, he would retire with Diane without regret. This was something he needed. Something that he could change. Not even his duel with Leonard Kord was this important to him. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ¡°I only wish to serve Cyrus¡¯ will,¡± Faust stated with the utmost confidence. ¡°That is all. Give me this, please.¡±

    Silvano stared at Faust for a good minute, cold dark eyes examining him head to toe. After a moment, he nodded with a sigh. ¡°Fine. Once Roma is ours and the Lumen force is defeated, will you be satisfied? Even if it doesn¡¯t mean anything in the grand scheme of things?¡±

    ¡°I only ask for the glory of one more victory,¡± Faust said. He watched as the Legate gave a curt nod.

    ¡°Understood,¡± Silvano said, his expression hardening as he turned back to the war camp. ¡°We will mobilize at dawn tomorrow. Ready your century before then.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Faust said with a bow, watching as the older man strode back to camp, hands clasped behind his back.

    As he watched, Faust could feel a sense of dread form in his chest. For some reason, he felt as if he had doomed himself.

    <hr>

    ¡°I am afraid of its grasp.¡±

    Faust panted as he stumbled through the streets of Roma, his gladius nicked and his armor falling apart. He grunted as he rested against a destroyed shop, his hand digging into his pouch for a potion. His shaking fingers came back with a small bronze vial, its wax seal still intact. Faust tore it off with his teeth, revealing a viscous red liquid inside. He hesitated and drank the contents, his body reacting almost immediately.

    His wounds healed slowly, pain flaring in all of them as the potion forcibly increased his metabolism. Faust held back a groan of discomfort as the bloodied wound by his side felt like it was on fire. He clenched his jaw tightly, more pain becoming apparent as he breathed heavily. After a few seconds, it finally passed.

    While most of the cuts and strained muscles were restored, his side wound was barely affected. Faust cursed his luck as he stumbled to the street, his body not feeling much different. He would have a talk with that cursed apothecary once he got back to camp. That¡¯s if he survived today.

    The ambush in Roma went to shit so fast that Faust didn¡¯t even realize they lost until less than five minutes ago. It was only once he stepped into the destroyed town that he realized that the battle had been a lost cause. Legate Silvano was dead, his head placed on a pike at the town¡¯s center. Legionnaire bodies littered the streets, the buildings all up in flames.

    To add insult to injury, Faust had also lost the blessings of Caelus. Somehow. He still didn¡¯t know how it happened. Only that he lost the favor soon after the battle¡¯s beginning. Was it something he did? Something he said? He never meant those insults about the deities¡¯ balls.

    ¡®Dammit, focus, Desimir! Find a way out of this accursed town, now!¡¯

    He needed to retreat to the war camp. To Cyrus and his honor guard. They would protect him. Faust nodded at that plan. It sounded fine for the moment. Maybe he¡¯ll¡ª

    ¡°Shit!¡± Faust cursed as he nearly stumbled over some rubble, his body nearly giving out. As he straightened himself, he noted something in the distance. Faust blinked and focused on the figure who walked with regal authority.

    They were clad in steel plate armor, blue cloaks wrapped around their shoulders. This man had his back turned to the Centurion, his men surrounding him as he patrolled the streets ahead of him. Faust focused on the cape¡¯s heraldry, his heart dropping at the familiar sight of a white Phoenix encased in Delphine¡¯s seven-pointed sun. House Kord¡¯s coat of arms, combined with the symbol of the Lumen Knights.

    He was a Kord. Just like Leonard, the man Faust had killed months ago.

    ¡®Didn¡¯t Silvano mention that Leonard had a son? Eobard, was it?¡¯

    The Lumen Knight had not noticed Faust yet, his focus mainly on the bodies ahead of him. His men were stabbing at their corpses with spears, probably making sure none were still alive. The sight filled Faust with a burning rage.

    ¡°Kord,¡± he growled, his hand tightening around his sword¡¯s grip. His jaw tightened as he watched the knight, who cared little for the men who tried to surrender or crawl away. He was executing them.

    ¡°Kord!¡± Faust yelled in challenge, more out of desperation rather than bravado. He just needed to buy time for the men. ¡°Come fight me!¡±

    As he spoke those words, viscous blood filled his mouth. Faust spat it out, his lungs wheezing as he tried to regain some sense of poise. He needed to stand tall before this bastard. At least until his men were out safely.

    ¡®Why am I doing this?¡¯

    As Faust watched Kord turn to him, a part of himself screamed to turn tail and run. There was no winning with this man, the same man whose father he had killed. No rightful son wouldn¡¯t bear a furious anger toward such a killer. Yet, as Faust watched on, Kord simply did not acknowledge him. He just stared, his helmet¡¯s visor emotionless. The men around him continued to stab injured soldiers.

    ¡°Come and fight me, coward!¡± Faust shouted, practically screaming at the other man. He gritted his teeth as he thought of something biting to say. A morbid thought came across his mind not a second later. Faust grinned a manic smile as he called out once more, ¡°At least the other one gave me a challenge!¡±

    That seemed to do it. The men around Kord started, their spears dripping crimson as they headed toward Faust. They were stopped when the Lumen Knight raised an inquisitive fist. Eobard was very still, his posture straight and his poise unmoving like a statue. His men backed off, almost reverent, as they allowed Kord to step forth.

    Faust stared at the knight, his body shuddering at the man¡¯s calm movements. Something then made itself present in him, a pit forming in his stomach. He was afraid. He had forgotten the feeling. It had been so long since the Centurion had known such an emotion.

    ¡®Not since that time. Back in my first battle.¡¯

    Faust faintly recalled it. It was when he was serving as a Legionnaire. Back then, his only weapon was a spear, and his armor was some ruddy chainmail passed down to him from a dead man. Faust had nearly died then, and that pit had formed like a steel ball dropped in mud. He hated it and had since vowed to never allow it to take hold of him.

    He did a good job upholding that vow. Until now.

    ¡®I¡¯m going to die, aren¡¯t I?¡¯

    Faust swallowed hard at the realization. There would be no running away. Not when he was faced with this creature of a man. Just the way Kord moved unnerved the Centurion to no end. There was no doubt that he¡¯d be killed if he even tried to retreat.

    ¡®Death by a man whose father I killed. Can¡¯t say I don¡¯t deserve such a fate.¡¯

    For some reason, Faust¡¯s fear evaporated at the realization. It was¡­ strange. He expected that pit to sink deeper, to weigh him down. Yet, now that he accepted death, it faded away. He smiled at that, a small chuckle escaping him as he faced down Eobard Kord. The man was still posed, enchanted sword drawn as he awaited Faust.

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re too much of a bastard to actually approach me, eh?¡± Faust asked with a chuckle. He smiled as he took his stance, gladius at the ready.

    ¡®I¡¯m sorry Diane. I wish I wasn¡¯t blinded by my own rage and hubris. I should¡¯ve taken Cyrus¡¯ offer.¡¯

    If he did manage to live through this by some miracle, he would be sure to buy her a ring made of valdoran steel and studded with arenian emeralds. Sure, it would be his entire yearly pay, but the Centurion liked to think it¡¯d be far from his worst worries if he did manage to survive to see that day.

    Faust grinned as he rushed Kord, his sword raised as he sprinted. Maybe if he did kill Kord, he could die in peace knowing he did something noteworthy before his end. That was also a nice thought.

    ¡®I hope you¡¯re watching, Golden Bitch.¡¯

    Faust would soon reach Eobard, his arms straining as he prepared to feint his swing, hoping to bait the knight. He could see how the Knight¡¯s sword readied for a strike as Faust came closer to striking distance. For a second, Faust believed his gambit would actually succeed. All he needed to do was to feint his strike and have Koird take the bait. He would leave himself open to attack.

    ¡®He¡¯s mine.¡¯

    The thought had run so clearly through his head.

    ¡°Flash Strike.¡±

    Faust¡¯s vision went black.

    ¡°So, I died?¡±

    In a way, yes. In more ways than one, however, you have become something more.

 B.4 Chapter 38: A Weight to Bear

    Naomi rested on the roof of Villtur''s Keep, her spot cleared of the falling snow. Nighttime had come soon, which was expected during the Frost. She sighed as she rested against a protruding chimney, her gaze moving over the island. If she allowed her imagination to run a little, she could believe that she was back in Central Kasan, watching over the city of Yakino.

    Naomi closed her eyes at the thought, remembering the cool nights spent running on sloped roofs and jumping between towering buildings. An exhilarating experience that brought both good and bad memories. She opened her eyes and let out a deep sigh.

    "He tried to kill himself today," she muttered aloud to the figure who had joined her on the roof.

    "I heard," Jarl Villtur muttered as he steadied himself on the sloped ramp. "Do you suppose he''ll regain his nerve?"

    "Honestly, I''m not sure," Naomi admitted. "His reaction wasn''t what I''d expected. I know he nearly died from the experience, and the men he lost were friends, but¡­"

    There was a pause after the words, and her sentence was left unfinished. The Outlander closed her eyes, jaw set as she rubbed her brow. The bandages there were still loose from earlier, her cursed left eye threatening exposure to the world.

    "You supposed there was something more to it?" Lukas asked softly, breaking the silence. "Something more to his erratic behavior?"

    "Of course," Naomi said. "He kept saying that he needed to do it. That it was the only way he could fix things. Balance the scales, so to say."

    Lukas grunted at that. "Scales?"

    Naomi nodded. "Kept rambling on about that and¡­ fate. I think he''s talking about Iendis. About what she showed him."

    Lukas audibly cursed something under his breath, head shaking as he balled his hands into fists.  "Then I suppose we don''t have the choice or the time to drag this out," he said with barely contained frustration. "We''ll have to tell him tomorrow. Yorktown. The siege."

    Naomi blinked. "He just tried to kill himself. I don''t think he''s in the right state of mind to handle that kind of news."

    "Do we have a choice?" Lukas growled. "Time is of the essence, and he will need to prepare. Tomorrow, we will tell him."

    Naomi opened her mouth to argue, to tell the Jarl off, and to go fuck himself. Instead, she held it all back. She needed to control herself. Lukas was right. The time for rest was up. James needed to prepare to defend and save his people. If he was any ounce of the man Naomi believed him to be, then she knew he would pull through.

    ''For strength to come, one must pick themselves up and press forth.''

    Those words echoed in her mind. They sounded so stupid now that her anger pulsed through her like a tempest. With a deep breath, Naomi clenched her fists and set her jaw as her thoughts raced through her head.

    Why did she have to get involved in this mess? The quest, of course. The one Thien had offered to her months ago. It had caused her so much trouble already, placing her in the midst of brutal politics and drama. Naomi had trudged through it all because she felt the need to kill the man responsible for ruining her life. To bring him to justice, so to say.

    ''Justice? Or just plain revenge?''

    Naomi felt a pang of guilt run through her as she recalled words of the past.

    <blockquote>

    "Revenge fixes nothing. It only festers a new kind of hatred that will eventually ruin you."

    </blockquote>

    She felt how her nails dug into her palms, leaving deep marks of pain as she tightened her grip. With a shake of her head, Naomi stood up and turned to the other side of the roof, ready to change her spot for the night.

    "Tell me, Outlander," Lukas suddenly said. Naomi stopped at that. She didn''t turn to meet the Jarl''s gaze. "Why do you choose to help me?"

    "I''m not helping you," Naomi said bluntly. "I''m only here because James is my only lead."

    "Lead?" Lukas questioned.

    "I aim to kill a man who wronged me a long time ago," Naomi answered. "James will lead me to him eventually. Whether by coincidence or intention."

    "That''s it?" Lukas sounded almost confused. "There is nothing more you want?"

    "No," Naomi murmured, her voice faint. She adjusted her scarf, the air growing ever so cold as the night prolonged. "There''s nothing left for me in this world. Not anymore, at least."

    ''My life is already one of ruin. What''s the worst revenge can do to it?''

    Without another word, Naomi Miller disappeared into the night, leaving behind Lukas Villtur as he watched her go.

    <hr>

    James felt numb. He sat in his bed, hands clenching the sheets as he thought about the day before. It was morning now, the rising sun''s light muddled by falling snow and gray clouds. He had awoken not long ago, frantic and confused. His hands had been shaking ever since, their sporadic movements still noticeable even as he gripped the blankets.

    ''How much have these past days been real?''

    Of course, none of it seemed right. It was like a fever dream almost, a result of his dying brain firing off neurons before it finally succumbed to lack of oxygen. The morbid idea was reminiscent of James'' first impression of Valenfrost, back when he had attributed his experience as a result of his car crash.

    ''Maybe I''m still in that car. Frothing at the mouth while my body seizes,'' James thought as he stared out the window to his left. The snow piled into mounds outside. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    The idea that his entire experience was a result of brain death didn''t seem so haunting to the Outlander. After everything he had been through, James found himself praying that it was the case. It''d be a lot more fathomable and easier to handle. He wouldn''t have to feel guilty if this was all some elaborate nightmare, right?

    "I want to wake up now," James whispered softly. "I''ve had enough of this hellscape. This godforsaken world. I want to go back home, even if I''m paralyzed or whatever. I''m done."

    No answer came. Not even from the guards that were posted by the door; their job clearly was to be on the watch for any more suicide attempts. James glanced at them, his focus on their heraldries. The Boar, which represented the Villtur clan. That made no sense to him. Why would Lukas Villtur care about him?

    That itself was proof enough that this was all some elaborate hallucination. Some dream he hadn''t woken up from yet. That made sense. Yes, this was all some big¡ª

    "You are dismissed," a voice called out from the doorway. James blinked, finally noticing Naomi walking into the room. The two guards nodded and left without a word. Once they left, Naomi closed the door behind her. Both of the Outlanders stared at each other, not a single word spoken.

    James focused on her bandaged eye, his stomach lurching at the memory of what he had seen. A Beholder eye. Implanted in the only other Outlander he thought he could trust. That was probably the most glaring clue that this wasn''t real.

    "This isn''t real," James said suddenly.

    Naomi blinked at that, confused. "What?"

    "This world. It''s just some dream, right?" James asked. "Makes sense. I mean, none of this makes sense. My brain is just trying to make sense of the car crash. Yeah, that''s it."

    He couldn''t help but laugh a little, his voice straining as he forced it.

    Naomi stared at him, mouth agape as she tried to find the words. "James¡­ This¡­ This isn''t¨C"

    "No need to explain it," James said with a raised hand. "I''m already aware of it. I''m ready to let go now. Come one, let''s get this over with."

    He waited, his gaze on Naomi as she watched him with an expression that was mixed with worry and confusion. After a moment, she drew her lips into a tight line, her single eye focusing on him. She took a breath and spoke.

    "We found you on a ship half destroyed and sinking. You were at death''s door, unconscious and unresponsive. You''ve been in a coma since then," Naomi explained with hesitance. "After we brought you here, Lukas¡ª"

    "How do I know you''re not with them?" James'' voice came out as a low mutter, yet it rang deafeningly. "I saw what I saw that day. That eye of yours. How do I know you''re not with them?"

    Naomi looked stunned, her hand instinctively moving to her bandaged head. She started, brow furrowed. "I''m not with them. Trust me, James."

    "I''m not sure if I can."

    "Then you can probably relate to having something forcibly implanted within you," Naomi said, her voice raising as she stepped forth. "Trust me, I didn''t have a choice."

    James looked at her for a long time. Both of the Outlanders were silent, each poised as if to expect an attack from the other. James had no idea of what to think about her words, about her insistence on trust. He almost wanted to call her out on her bullshit. There was no way someone who had one of those things implanted would be sound of mind. He didn''t believe it.

    Trust is something widely coveted yet hardly earned. So, believe me when I say to trust her, James.

    James blinked at the sudden voice that echoed in his mind. He sat up straight, eyes widening as he recognized it.

    ''Faust, is that you?'' he thought desperately. He hadn''t heard from the Centurion in so long. He worried that the spirit was lost during his¡­ James shuddered at the thought and disregarded that. He needed to speak with Faust. ''Where have you been, man?''

    However, much to his despair, there came no answer. James blinked at the lack of a response, confusion, and panic settling in. He closed his one eye and focused.

    Faust was nowhere to be found. His presence was absent from his mind, and there was not a trace left. Yet, James could swear he could feel faint pulsing somewhere inside him. At first, he dismissed it for his natural ley lines but frowned when he realized how foreign they sounded. He tried to focus on the pulses to distinguish what exactly they were.

    However, before he could figure out what was happening, the door to his room was pushed open by a man James had only recently recognized.

    "Villtur," he muttered as the Jarl strode in, hands behind his back as he examined both Outlanders. Lukas paused at the sight of James, his demeanor faltering a bit. James was surprised to see a sense of something genuine behind those eyes. Was this really the same man he had argued with all those months ago? Back then, Lukas had outright threatened James and his people. Now, he seemed reserved and formal. A far cry from what the young Jarl had remembered of the man.

    "I suppose Miller here has briefed you on the situation?" he asked. "The events that had left you in this¡­ state."

    "I need to leave," James said suddenly. He forced himself to rise from the bed, regardless of Naomi''s protesting hand. "I need to get out of here."

    He didn''t care if this was some kind of fucked up nightmare. Some elaborate dream his dying mind conjured. He wanted to get back home. He needed to know if they were still alive.

    "No," Lukas suddenly said, hand grabbing James by his shoulder. He forced the young man to sit back on the bed.

    "You won''t let me fix things my own way," James muttered, his right hand gripping onto Lukas'' arm. He shoved it away forcibly, his gaze meeting with the other Jarl''s. "And now you won''t even let me go back home?"

    "You are not ready to return."

    "The hell I am!" James shouted, his jaw clenched with barely contained rage. It took everything within himself not to simply fight his way out. "We can use Frostbite to return. The gate runes¡ª"

    "Your ship was captured by Jarl Falk. It is no longer in your possession," Lukas revealed. James recoiled as if he was shot, his words dying as he prepared an argument.

    "What¡­ What of my crew?" he muttered.

    Naomi didn''t meet his gaze, her arms crossed as she closed her eyes. Lukas did something similar, his eyes moving to the floor in sincerity. Words were not needed to tell James what had happened. The young Jarl went still, body trembling as he tried to steele himself. He tightened his hands into fists, his nails digging into his palm. Dimitri, Thorkel, and the rest of the crew were gone. Killed by Eilif, the man who claimed he was immortal. He and that Beholder user.

    "How¡­ How long has it been since you found me?" James asked softly.

    "Nearly a month now," Lukas revealed. "The New Year Transition was a couple weeks back. It is currently the month of Jenari, Age 562."

    "Nearly a month?" James asked in disbelief, a deep pit forming and twisting within his stomach. He felt sick. An image appeared in his mind, unwilling and haunting. Yorktown in flames, the guardsmen in shambles. The crumpled forms of those he tried so hard to protect.

    ''You had once thought you could control fate,'' a distant part of himself spoke. ''You really thought that you''d be able to avoid risking too much. That everything would just work out in the end.''

    James slumped in bed, exhaustion weighing down on his shoulders. It pressed against him, threatening to force him down. He resisted against it, barely.

    "What¡­ What happened to Yorktown?" he finally managed out. Truly, he didn''t want to know. The last thing he needed was another reminder that he had failed to protect his people. But something deep inside told him that the anticipation would tear him from the inside.

    Lukas was silent for a moment, the air between the two men tense like static. Then he spoke.

 B.4 Chapter 39: Blessings (Part 1 of 2)

    James laid in bed, his sheets brought up to encompass him fully. He was no longer injured, his past wounds healed and tended to. If anything, he was in top shape, almost as if nothing had changed these past weeks. Almost.

    He brought a hand to his eye patch, the socket behind it hollow and devoid of any sight. The absence of any visual stimuli would have been enough to drive him mad had depression not taken hold already.

    Not long after Lukas¡¯ conversation, James had decided to give in to that sense of despair, to that darkness that pulled at his soul. It became clear to him then that no matter what he did, life would find a way to drag him through the dirt and ash.

    It was only now that he realized that there was no worth in getting up again. Not when he knew how it would all end.

    ¡®No point in trying to defy fate. Everyone is going to end up dead anyway. No point to it all.¡¯

    James shifted in the bed, his only eye closing as he tried to find some semblance of peace within himself. He was so tired today, so exhausted. His limbs were heavy like concrete, barely moving as he tried to curl into a comfortable sleeping position. The feeling was familiar to him, somehow. Perhaps he had been in this position before, long ago. He didn¡¯t care to remember.

    Sleep would still evade him, despite the exhaustion, despite the dreadful air in the room. Yet James still tried to will himself into a slumber, if only to escape reality for a few precious hours. He had stopped trying to contact Faust long ago, instead leaving himself accompanied by the voices of misery and self-loathing. He didn¡¯t mind them. They were right.

    You did this to them.

    Perhaps if you had given up long ago, things would¡¯ve been better.

    No matter what you do, your loved ones will suffer for it.

    You couldn¡¯t even kill yourself properly.

    He lay there, surrounded by his failures. For days, he ignored Lukas, who had done much to try to sway him to consider a plan of attack. Naomi tried after him and backed off once James made it clear he did not trust her.

    The truth was, there was nothing more for him to do. To try anything would be to tempt fate and its consequences. No, the best course of action was none at all.

    Not even death would fix things, for he failed at that, too. Besides, it would be too good for him.

    The door opened, and the voices in his head waned to nothingness. James froze, noticing the sudden silence that perpetuated the room. He turned around, half expecting either Emma or Lukas to come in with food. Probably to try and talk things out with him. They had tried before, with little of an answer coming from the tired Outlander.

    Instead of them, however, he saw someone else. They wore the telltale blue tabard of the Yorktown guard, a White Raven sewn into the shoulder sleeve. James focused a little, noting the person¡¯s limping figure and bandaged head.

    It was a young woman, her narrow face familiar to him. James blinked as he recognized spectacles hanging over her nose. Elizabeth, a town guardswoman who had trained under Harald¡¯s guidance back during last Frost. Back then, James had sparred against her during his initial weeks learning the basics.

    ¡®What is she doing here? Unless¡­¡¯

    She had been with them during Ivan¡¯s betrayal. Wasn¡¯t she once part of the Battle for Yorktown, though? Yes, she had fought Ivan¡¯s men during then. That should¡¯ve meant she would¡¯ve stayed behind during negotiations. So, how did James and Helen look over her inclusion during their preparations?

    James almost dismissed her entirely, his hand moving to wave the guardswoman away. Yet he hesitated. Something about seeing that familiar tabard and patch brought back a sense of warmth that drove back some of his weariness. Elizabeth seemed to notice his hesitation and stepped into the room before he could make up his mind.

    ¡°Jarl Holter,¡± she spoke softly, her uninjured hand closing the door behind her. ¡°I¡­ I suppose this is a little sudden. However, ever since my wake, I¡¯ve wanted to come here to pay my respects and best wishes.¡±

    James forced himself to sit up, his body almost slumping over as he did so. He had to force his own body to sit upright, his tired gaze moving to Elizabeth. She was once a lanky woman, with gangly limbs that were inexperienced with weapons. Despite being nearly as tall as he, she always seemed small compared to everyone else.

    Now, James could see the fruits of her hard-earned training over the months. Even behind the bandages, Elizabeth had visibly grown. Her form was straight, and her arms were toned with taut muscle. She wasn¡¯t as strong as Helen or Haggard, but it was clear that she aspired to reach their heights.

    ¡°You¡­ You survived?¡± James asked in a mutter, his voice soft and barely heard.

    ¡°I and two others, sir,¡± Elizabeth responded quietly. Her voice was clearly shaking at the mention of the topic. ¡°They are not yet in good enough shape to come see you, my Jarl. I only just recently began to recover enough to walk around. It is only now that they¡¯ve allowed me to see you.¡±

    She was clearly nervous and a little distressed, her eyes breaking away from James every now and then.

    ¡°Is that it?¡± James murmured, too tired to say anything more. Yet Elizabeth didn¡¯t seem to mind. She took a deep breath, her good hand clenching tightly. She then shook her head.

    ¡°No, sir. In fact, I have come here at the request of those who worry,¡± Elizabeth admitted. ¡°They tell me that perhaps seeing a familiar face could help in improving your¡­ state of distress.¡±

    James gave a dry laugh at that, his head shaking as he sank a little into his covers. He turned to the window, where snow piled on the outside sill. He watched the flakes converge and pile, his full attention on the outside world. He did not care enough to engage in another conversation about being strong.

    James was content with his current weakness. If he didn¡¯t involve himself with the affairs of men, he could no longer endanger those he cared for. With some luck, perhaps his loved ones could get out of their situation alive.

    Shuffling steps sounded out behind James, the surviving guardswoman making her way to the foot of his bed. James did not meet her gaze. He had no desire to look into those hope-filled eyes, for he knew it would just sink him further into despair.

    ¡®Then again, aren¡¯t you already at the bottom?¡¯

    ¡°Just leave me,¡± James mumbled. He waved a dismissive hand to the guardswoman. ¡°I can¡¯t help you or anyone else.¡±

    ¡°Sir, if I may be so bold, you have helped me,¡± Elizabeth stated firmly, posture straight as she looked down at him. ¡°You¡¯ve helped more people than I thought possible. It¡¯s truly¡­¡±

    ¡°Stupid,¡± James answered hoarsely. ¡°Those people I¡¯ve helped¡­ they¡¯re all doomed.¡±

    Elizabeth said nothing. James continued regardless.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Lukas must¡¯ve told you? Or maybe not, considering he waited to reveal the truth to me,¡± James said. He didn¡¯t even have the energy to act bitter about it. ¡°Yorktown is doomed, Elizabeth. Sieged by orcs. I saved no one. Hell, I couldn¡¯t even save myself in the end.¡±

    He rubbed at his neck, where he knew a faint scar lay. The killing blow dealt by Eilif himself. James couldn¡¯t even keep himself alive. What hope did he have in doing the same for his people?

    The guardswoman was silent for a long long time. After some time, James assumed that she had decided to leave him alone. That was, before she finally spoke.

    ¡°Can I ask you something, sir?¡± Elizabeth asked softly. James blinked in surprise and forced himself to glance at her. The guardswoman stood up straight, her spectacled eyes watching the snowfall. For some reason, James could swear something had changed with the way she composed herself. Her once nervous eyes were now focused and clear, a clear confidence and solemness about her.

    ¡°Sure,¡± James said with a dismissive tone. He broke his focus and returned to watching the snowfall.

    ¡°I had been wanting to ask this question for a while,¡± Elizabeth said, ¡°Ever since you officially formed this clan, actually. But I never really found the time and place for it. I thought that maybe I could ask once things in the North got moving, but it seems like this world had different plans for you.¡±

    James raised an eyebrow at the way she spoke. It was almost as if she switched entire dialects and speaking patterns. Regardless, he did not interrupt.

    ¡°Before I ask, I must admit something,¡± Elizabeth continued. ¡°I have been watching you a little closer than most. Probably more than someone such as I should. Then again, since I am still here, I suppose fate has allowed some leeway for this.¡± The guardswoman turned to James, her expression darkening as she locked her gaze with his.

    ¡°I must ask. Why Dahlia?¡±

    James blinked at that. The question was enough to throw him off balance, his body tensing at the mention of the Shaman.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Why Dahlia?¡± Elizabeth repeated. She looked a bit more stern now, her bandages¡­ wriggling? ¡°I suppose she is a sight to behold. Pretty eyes, nice shape, and a tendency to look rather striking in trousers and shirts. But, she is far from a person I would consider ¡®perfect.¡¯ She is brash, stupid, and risks too much for too little. Every bump in your journey can be traced back to her. The summoning, the ley line shatter, and much much more. She refuses to participate in the integral sacrifices required for most shaman rituals and has denounced much of her own culture in favor of ¡®humane¡¯ alternatives. Not to mention her constant need to restrict you in your endeavors and goals.

    ¡°Dahlia says she does it to protect, but really, it¡¯s because she is too attached, too clingy, to fully accept the harsh truths of reality. That is why you are still here, right? Why you still live in a body accompanied by two other souls?¡± Elizabeth asked. She leaned in a little, eyes reflecting the dim light of the room. James looked into that gaze, into those dark irises, and saw eternity flash within them.

    ¡°Who¡­ Who are¡ª¡±

    ¡°So I ask, once more,¡± Elizabeth, or the creature posing as her, interrupted James. ¡°Why do you care for Dahlia? Why do you try so hard to protect her? In fact, why do you love her?¡±

    James stammered, his body tensing as he tried to back away. He found himself pressed against the bed¡¯s headboard, his head tapping against the wood. Elizabeth just stared at him, unmoving.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡­¡± He almost said the first thing that came to his mind.

    ¡®Because I do. Because she and I had gone through hell together.¡¯

    Yet even he knew that it wasn¡¯t the full truth. Something deep inside told him that Elizabeth would not accept such a half-baked explanation. So James told the truth.

    ¡°Because she saved me,¡± he softly muttered, his voice wavering. ¡°She saved me from myself, alright? I was a mess before Valenfrost, before that car crash. I had to take medication just to get through the week, for god¡¯s sake. Even then, I was teetering. So so close to just¡­¡± he winced at the memory, his hands clenching as he recalled those days. The bad days, when the medication did little to nothing, and those voices came to haunt him.

    ¡°Dahlia saved me,¡± James murmured. ¡°Both literally and spiritually. Sure, Seamus helped as well. Funnily enough, Faust did, too.¡± He couldn¡¯t help but force a weak smile, his hand aimlessly wandering near his chest. He gripped his shirt tightly, his eyes averting from Elizabeth¡¯s stare. ¡°I don¡¯t care about her faults. Hell, I don¡¯t think they¡¯re comparable to the shit I did, the things I forced myself to do.¡±

    James could feel an ugly, sick feeling rear its head deep inside. The guilt, the pain, all of it crushed and buried within the recesses of his soul. It seeped and festered, feeding the despair he already felt. It was as if someone had placed a heavy rock upon his chest, its weight crushing him slowly day by day.

    ¡°Dahlia eases your pains,¡± Elizabeth said softly, her expression faltering a little.

    ¡°She dampens it,¡± James whispered, admitting something he had been too afraid to confront. ¡°Drives it all away. Makes the days go by easier. That¡¯s¡­ That¡¯s why¡­¡±

    ¡°Why you are in distress,¡± Elizabeth finished, her back straightening as she stood upright. ¡°Because you feel as if you have doomed her.¡±

    ¡°I have,¡± James said. ¡°I¡­I survived when I shouldn¡¯t have. Because of that, fate will balance the scales.¡± He watched the guardswoman with unease, his gut twisting at the implications of who she was.

    Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him, her hands moving behind her back. It was as if she could read the question that had appeared within his thoughts.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°I see now,¡± she said finally with a look of satisfaction. ¡°You¡¯ve spoken from the heart, so it¡¯s only fair that I repay honesty with honesty. To tell you the truth, Dahlia has little to do with the current fates. While her role seems major, it is not something unforeseen. The fractures were bound to happen, and your summoning was not by her hand. She is just another person thrust into situations that would¡¯ve transpired regardless of her involvement. Still, I do have to say she is a personal favorite of mine. Though her devoutness has fallen off since her meeting with you. But I suppose that¡¯s on me. I did teach the tenets of love once before.¡±

    James stared at the guardswoman, whose bandages seemed to wriggle and loosen. Her once-dark eyes now shone with an iridescent glint that seemed to shift colors.

    ¡°Are you¡­?¡±

    ¡°I am not Iendis,¡± Elizabeth said. ¡°I have no relation with that madwoman who calls herself a god. No, I am something else.¡± She raised her hands, the skin of which cracked and blackened. James could swear he could see something wriggle underneath the guardswoman¡¯s skin.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± James asked, feeling himself slowly back away despite being in bed. ¡°Really?¡±

    Elizabeth smiled a little, her eyes closing as she spoke, her words coming out in a wisp.

    ¡°I am the Wind that guides ships whilst also being the Storm that sinks them. I am the Girnleaf that heals wounds, and yet I am also the Raptorbane that poisons men. I am the Love one feels for another and the Lust that drives them to break such bonds. On my right, I hold Fertility. On my left, I hold Blight. I am the raven¡¯s call and the Boatman¡¯s toll. I am the natural order.¡± Elizabeth let out a heavy breath, her eyes flashing gold as steam left her lips.

    James now had a good idea who he was looking at.

    ¡°You¡­ You¡¯re Freyja. Goddess of Nature and Fertility.¡± James stared at the glowing deity before him, shock overcoming him. She radiated a compressing aura that brought both Sommar¡¯s warmth and yet carried the subtleties of Frost¡¯s bite. Every second felt unreal to him, as if he were experiencing something that no mortal had before.

    He blinked and realized that the surroundings had changed. He was still in his bed, but the room around him had been replaced by a meadow of emerald-green grass. It reflected light in a shimmering glow that seemed unreal, almost artificial. The glowing meadow expanded beyond the horizon, the sky beaming a bright blue. Not even a single cloud threatened to blot out the sun. James stared at the sight, realizing that it was his first time seeing such a scene in Valenfrost.

    He turned to the goddess before him. It now became clear to him that Freyja was leagues above Iendis and Thien, just from the ease it took for her to transport him here without him even noticing.

    ¡°I have been watching you for some time,¡± Freyja said. Her voice was different now, every word spoken sounding as if it was shaped by the rushing wind and crackling of creeks. It was almost melodic. ¡°Ever since you were brought here, dropped in the hometown of one of my favorite followers.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve been watching?¡± James asked slowly, blinking at the implications. ¡°Elizabeth was never a real person, was she? It was some sort of disguise.¡±

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± Freyja said. ¡°Us deities are limited in the ways we interact with mortals. Elizabeth was more of an¡­ improvised avatar. She was formed out of my own essence, placed to watch over the small island of Yorktown. It was only after the fracturing that I became aware of you.¡±

    James swallowed at that. ¡°Well¡­ I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Do not worry about that,¡± Freyja interrupted. ¡°Like I said earlier, the fracturing was bound to happen eventually. You were the tipping point, sure, but you were not the sole reason.¡±

    James stared at the goddess, unsure of how to even speak to her. He felt almost naked in front of her gaze. Like his soul was on display.

    ¡°Still,¡± James murmured. ¡°I¡¯m not exactly blameless. People died because of me. Because of my actions.¡± He looked down at his hands, recalling the moment he realized that he was the source of the fracture. Even if it was inevitable, he still carried the burden of bringing the abomination to this world. ¡°I was selfish, thinking only of myself and my friends. I thought I could change fate, change everything.¡±

    ¡°All men are selfish,¡± Freyja said. ¡°It is the nature of all living beings. Shameful as it might be, do not wallow in such mistakes. You only feed into that nature, transforming it into something much worse.¡±

    ¡°So what should I do then? Risk the lives of everyone I care about?¡± James asked, almost bitterly. ¡°Sitting here and wallowing is the best thing I can do. Getting too close to them¡­ It¡¯ll doom them all.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re doomed without you,¡± Freyja said softly, her gentle voice flowing like a cool breeze. ¡°In fact, many of them would¡¯ve died without your intervention, chaotic as it was. James, you must realize that you are but one man fighting against the currents of fate itself. People will die in the end. You must be able to accept this. But what is the value of life if you don¡¯t fight to protect it?¡±

    ¡°So I have to accept that people die while also trying to prevent it?¡± James asked. ¡°That¡¯s a little counterintuitive, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Freyja smiled a little, her all-gold eyes glancing at James. ¡°Such fallacies are human in nature, no?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but¡­¡± James frowned. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand. What do you want from me? Why are you even speaking to me now?¡±

    Freyja did not answer immediately. She only watched the Outlander, her guardsman uniform slowly being burned and stripped away, exposing more brazen skin underneath. Despite this, Freyja had an air of divine beauty about her, every tear in her clothing seeming to fit well with her overall look.

    ¡°I have been watching you for some time, Son of Holter,¡± Freyja said, her golden eyes watching James. He felt paralyzed at her stare. ¡°Enough time for me to find an opening within Holy Law. One that would grant me a chance to offer you a Blessing.¡±

    ¡°A¡­ A Blessing?¡±

    ¡°A Blessing,¡± Freyja confirmed. ¡°One that will help you, to either protect or kill, is your choice alone.¡±

    ¡°To protect?¡± James asked softly. He felt compelled by the idea of such a prospect. A Goddess offering a Blessing to him? One that could help protect everyone. A deep, darker part of him stirred inside at the thought. It told him to reject the Blessing, for it could mean tampering with fates. And tampering with fates meant his loved ones dying. Yet, at the same time, another part of him told him to accept, for his friends needed him.

    James stared at the deity before him, unsure of what he should say.

    ¡°I¡­¡±

    ¡°James,¡± Freyja said softly, cutting him off. ¡°I cannot read your mind, but I can sense your turmoil. Please cast aside those thoughts of misery and think. Listen to your heart, not the wretch deep inside of you.¡±

    James frowned but did not answer immediately. Instead, he decided to follow her advice. He took a deep breath and cleared his mind, searching deep within himself for an answer. An answer that he could be happy with. He shoved away the pessimistic thoughts for a moment. The voices that told him that he was worthless. The ones that told him he was a blight.

    He instead listened to the only voice of reason deep within. His father.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°The best way to confront your problems is to do it head first.¡± His father had spoken, expression surprisingly solemn. ¡°Don¡¯t give in to the bad thoughts, and don¡¯t let your pride overtake you. Keep it balanced, and remember, don¡¯t be afraid to accept the help of others. Faith is important sometimes. You can¡¯t take the world on alone, son.¡±

    </blockquote>

    James let out a breath and opened his only eye slowly. He looked at Freyja, who had clasped her hands together. She still had the features of Elizabeth, the guardswoman. The guardswoman who had helped defend Yorktown and save Vindis. For some reason, just the fact that she was one of the Ravens helped James in his decision.

    ¡°I accept,¡± he said softly, his body relaxing a little. Freyja nodded at that and floated closer to James.

    ¡°Your words are accepted,¡± she whispered softly. ¡°But be warned, Son of Holter, for the Blessings of Gods can be construed more as curses. For they can bring the finality of a fate that cannot be changed, regardless of what Iendis says. Will you still accept my gift and chance the consequences?¡±

    James slowly nodded. Freyja gave a small smile, her head nodding back. She then opened her hand and pressed her palm against the right side of James¡¯ face. He recoiled a little at the sudden touch, which grew to a great warmth. He held back the urge to flinch as his eye socket started to heat up. It didn¡¯t take long for it to grow unbearable, the surge of heat equal to hot coals.

    James found himself trying to pull back but couldn¡¯t break from the goddess¡¯ grip, his voice dying in his throat as he tried to speak. Freyja¡¯s voice came in right after, cutting him off.

    ¡°Dahlia will be safe, for her fate has been predetermined long before your arrival,¡± the goddess said. ¡°However, should you and her keep close, her branches will intertwine with yours, sharing your inevitable fate. And James, it will catch up to you regardless of what Iendis promises.¡±

    James¡¯ pain lessened bit by bit, his body shuddering as he tried to process the words. He felt both numb and in terrible pain.

    ¡°Such an interesting relationship with the Tree,¡± Freyja muttered, her actions and way of speaking humanlike. It unnerved James deeply. ¡°Perhaps you were brought to my forests for a reason, to a follower of mine. Perhaps to make sure Astellar wouldn¡¯t find you. That man had always been a shifty one despite his mortality.¡± She looked at James with an unreadable expression. He couldn¡¯t tell behind her brazen and cracked skin, the gold irises showing little emotion.

    As the pain in his skull died down, James felt something pulsing within his eye socket. It throbbed with an incredible soreness, warmth spreading from the source. Strangely enough, something about it cleared up his thoughts. Hell, even his emotions became much more manageable. While James was far from having his despair and depression washed away, it became a little bearable. The voices even became quieter.

    Freyja seemed to notice this, her gaze narrowing as she watched James. She frowned.

    ¡°I should¡¯ve known his influence would¡¯ve stayed with you,¡± the goddess said. ¡°Even now, he still manages to reach you despite my domain and Blessing.¡±

    ¡°Who is he?¡± James asked, his brow creasing. ¡°And what is happening?¡±

    Freyja raised a single finger to her lips. ¡°While I am sure he cannot harm us, I would rather not have Nyrkl finding out about my intervention. He might be dead, but he is still a dangerous threat.¡±

    ¡°Nyrkl?¡± James repeated, even more confused. Yet, right after the name left his lips, the voices deep inside his mind went ballistic. He cringed hard, a sharp pain coursing through his head. They echoed repeatedly, the words all in some weird language. Yet there were a couple of words that James heard very, very clearly.

    KILL.

    CONSUME.

    James squirmed and writhed at the pain, his hands clutching at his skull. Before the pain could drive whatever sanity he had left, however, Freyja¡¯s hand touched his head. The voices screamed, and they quickly waned to dead silence. James gasped at the feeling, his hands shaking as he tried to process what happened.

    ¡°My Blessing should ward those voices off for now,¡± Freyja muttered. ¡°But be very careful. If you allow him within your soul once more, his influence will come rushing back like a flood, Blessing or no Blessing.¡±

    James looked to the deity before him, who seemed to glow despite the sunny atmosphere. She looked at him with an almost inscrutable look. As he stared back, the pieces began to click.

    ¡°Nyr¡ª He is the thing that¡¯s reanimating dead bodies, isn¡¯t he?¡± James asked softly.

    ¡®And his influence has been infecting my mind for god knows how long.¡¯

    That made him shudder. How long had that abominable thing been hiding within him? Was James at risk of turning into one of those creatures?

    Freyja seemed to notice his internal conflict and was quick to answer.

    ¡°He only influences you through those voices, perhaps some of your dreams,¡± she said. ¡°But his grasp does not go beyond that. Something about your body prevents him from doing such.¡±

    ¡°What the hell is he?¡± James asked with gritted teeth, half angry and half terrified. ¡°What is that thing? Am I actually going to get a straight answer for once?¡±

    Freyja looked at him with an expression he couldn¡¯t quite place. Dismay? Hesitance?

    ¡°Nyrkl is¡­ something else beyond my understanding. I am not sure of his true nature,¡± the goddess admitted. ¡°Or even what it is. Nyrkl was just a name that we placed upon them in hopes of perhaps understanding. We were wrong in trying.¡±

    James shivered. To see a literal deity question something such as the abominable creature¡ªcalled Nyrkl¡ªfilled him with an even worse sense of dread than before.

    ¡°Can¡­ Can it be defeated?¡± James whispered, the words coming out almost instinctual. He didn¡¯t mention the thing¡¯s name for fear of calling it back into his mind.

    ¡°It can. This isn¡¯t the first time it has been released,¡± Freyja confirmed. ¡°What troubles me is your body. You¡¯ve come in contact with Nyrkl¡¯s touch many times, yet it does not control you.¡± Her eyes flashed gold for a moment, and for the first time in his life, James saw a god raise their eyebrows in surprise.

    ¡°I see now¡­¡± she muttered. ¡°You are -------¡¯s ------¡±

    James¡¯ eyes widened at that, his lips moving as he tried to speak.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Yes. It seems like ------- ------ --- -- ---. How strange. Perhaps giving you the Blessing could prove to be a mistake. Perhaps not. It is a gamble.¡±

    ¡°What¡­ What are¨C¡±

    ¡°The time for our talks has passed, unfortunately,¡± Freyja stopped James, her hand pressing against his chest. He felt as her palm grew hot, like when it had when she bestowed his right eye back. ¡°As a precaution with Holy Law, you will start to forget this meeting not long after you wake. Only remnants and pieces shall remain within your memories.¡±

    Before James could protest, the goddess waved her left hand. The world around him crumbled as her voice rang in his ears.

    ¡°I will leave you with my Blessing, and its warning. May you escape defeat twice more, but no further, for there is no escaping nature and the inevitable outcome it brings. May you continue to protect the ones you love, their eventual ends coming as fate intended instead of the consequences you bring. May you defy death and its grasp, but live long enough to accept the fate you were meant for. You shall live to see your Kingdom prosper and shall watch it fall, your every achievement burned to ash. Only once you are laid to rest shall the White Raven fly true, its people living on in your legacy. I bestow upon you the courage to fight and the tenacity to keep going. I bestow upon you the wisdom to choose, and the strength to make the right choice. This is your fate, Son of Holter. You are Blessed.¡±

    Those words echoed in James¡¯ mind as darkness encompassed him, the Goddess¡¯ domain whisking away. For a second, it felt like he was asleep again, his body heavy and the exhaustion apparent. His meeting with Freyja grew distant within his mind, the memory slowly dissipating like she had told him.

    ¡°Before you return of course,¡± Freyja¡¯s voice whispered. ¡°There is someone who wants to see you.¡±

    The world around James shifted in pressure, the darkness fading as a small distant light made itself present. He stared at the peculiar light, his hand inching closer to it. Not even a second later, and he was basked in the sun¡¯s warmth. James blinked and noticed that the entire scenery had changed.

    Even his clothes were different, his infirmary rags exchanged for dark green and burgundy robes. James stared at his new clothes, his hand running through the fabric. Before he could even question it, the sounds of bustling crowds surrounded him. He looked up and found himself sitting in the middle of a large city square, crowds of people in colorful clothing walking past and buzzing with life.

    James stared at the sudden change, body stiff as he tried to process it.

    ¡°Hey, James!¡± a familiar voice called out. ¡°You ready?¡±

    James turned to the source, a pit forming in his stomach as he saw a man clad in shining steel, a bright yellow sash wrapped around him. Gold pins dotted the red mane of his helmet, which hung off his belt alongside a swaying gladius. This man looked more alive than he had ever been, his grin wide and his dark eyes glinting with excitement.

    ¡°Well?¡± Faust held out a beckoning hand. ¡°Let¡¯s get going.¡±

 B.4 Chapter 40: Blessings (Part 2 of 2)

    James followed Faust around the streets of Arendton, one of the main cities in the Legion and one of the biggest in Azurvale¡¯s history. High-rising pillars accompanied bustling crowds, all draped or painted with colors. People around them wore sashes and togas dyed with yellows and bright blues. Even some reds and greens. It was all so¡­ dizzying to James.

    The young Jarl was more or less used to the muted colors and lack of variety in Valenfrost. In the north, colors were used to differentiate between friend and foe amid battle. Here, it served only to decorate and embellish the city.

    ¡°City of colors,¡± James murmured, recalling a memory from long ago. Faust had spoken about Arendton during their moments of small talk. The Centurion had called it a paradise, with amazing sights and rich culture. He could see now why he was so fond of the city.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± James finally asked as the two stopped by a vendor cart.

    ¡°Don¡¯t really have a destination, but there are a few places I want to show you,¡± Faust said as he fished through his side satchel. He brought out some gold clippings, worth around a couple of silver each, and handed them over to the ecstatic vendor. ¡°First, however, food.¡±

    James raised an eyebrow as the Centurion received what looked like flatbread wrapped around some mystery meat and toppings. He looked at the suspicious-looking wrap as Faust handed one to him.

    ¡°Is this even real?¡± James muttered a question as he squeezed it.

    ¡°Shut up and eat,¡± Faust responded as he took a bite out of his. ¡°Daylight is burning, and there¡¯s a lot I want to show you.¡±

    James shrugged and began to nibble on the wrap, which didn¡¯t taste too bad. He followed Faust some more as they ate, passing by marble statues of men long forgotten. James examined them as he ate, noting their chiseled jaws and perfect poses. Unlike the rest of the city, these were also painted colorfully. Even ribbons were tied to their arms and weapons, their flowing colors almost hypnotizing.

    ¡°Here we are,¡± Faust suddenly called out. James stopped and looked at where the Centurion¡¯s focus lay. Before the two was a circular fountain, a colorful statue of some goddess spouting water high into the air, and a small pool below. James saw children splashing and running about, yelling and shouting as they played.

    ¡°This is the Arendton city square,¡± Faust explained. ¡°That is one of the greatest sights here. The Fountain of Fertility.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the point of this?¡± James asked, confused. ¡°Why am I here with you, Faust?¡±

    ¡°Just shut up and indulge me,¡± Faust sighed. ¡°I swear, this all has a point in the end.¡±

    James stared at the Centurion, who looked back with a look that said: ¡®Trust me.¡¯ He sighed and nodded, his hand bringing the wrap up to eat. Faust smiled at that and turned his gaze back to the gurgling waters and splashing children.

    ¡°I used to play in that fountain years ago, back when Cyrus first brought me here,¡± he said. ¡°I was such a little bastard back then. You wouldn¡¯t believe the amount of times I dove in there, ruining expensive clothes Cyrus bought for me.¡±

    James listened to the Centurion, idly chewing as he watched the fountain. If he allowed himself to imagine just a little, he could see Faust running through the fountain¡¯s bubbling waters as a kid. Tan from the sun, messy black hair sticking to his head like a mop, and the biggest grin on his face as he chased other kids around.

    For some reason, James imagined his younger self running through that fountain with Faust. Two mischievous kids, ignoring the calls and reprimands of adults as they had the time of their lives.

    ¡®I wonder. Would we even be friends if we were both born around the same time and place? Would we hate each other or acclimate quickly together?¡¯

    That sentiment echoed in his mind as he watched the young boys shout and curse at each other. Before long, a couple men wearing light mail approached the fountain, their spears clicking against the cobbles as they stomped toward the city center. The boys immediately scattered, laughing as they escaped the disgruntled city guard.

    ¡°Time to move on,¡± Faust said. James shrugged and followed, still mindlessly munching on his wrap. He still dragged his feet, and his shoulders sagged with a weight that made him want to curl back into bed. Regardless, he kept going. Mostly out of curiosity and because Faust¡¯s confidence and joy strangely kept him going.

    ¡®I really hope this isn¡¯t all some strange vision or dream.¡¯

    He had spent so long isolated in that damned infirmary, so long questioning himself and contemplating death. For once, he¡¯d like to be assured that he was, in fact, not insane.

    ¡°This is a good place,¡± Faust said as the two passed a larger building with a dome-shaped roof and wide entrance. James tilted his head at the entrance, where people flowed in and out with scrolls, tomes, and stacks of tablets. They all wore robes not unlike the one James himself was wearing.

    ¡°Is this¡­?¡±

    ¡°The Great Arendton Library,¡± Faust said. ¡°I met Diane here.¡±

    ¡°Bullshit,¡± James scoffed. ¡°You read?¡±

    ¡°I wrote poetry in my spare time, jackass,¡± Faust shot back, throwing one of James¡¯ own insults back at him.

    ¡°Were you good at it?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Faust admitted. ¡°But that¡¯s not the point.¡±

    ¡°Then what is it?¡± James asked.

    ¡°When I first met Diane here, I was a young man trying to prove himself to the world,¡± Faust said. ¡°I joined up with the Legion at such a young age, working my way to the top. I was so confident in myself, so proud of my station, that I thought that earning Diane¡¯s love would be a breeze.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t?¡± James asked, almost sarcastically, as he crossed his arms.

    ¡°She brushed me off without a second thought,¡± Faust laughed. He was grinning widely at the front steps, where James spotted an odd couple. He blinked at the sight of a city guard trying to flirt with one of the scholars. The woman didn¡¯t seem at all interested, her tired gaze indicating that this was not the first time this man had tried his luck. Regardless, she leaned against the pillar, hands holding an open tome as she promptly ignored the boasting guard.

    ¡°I was infatuated with her since the first time I laid eyes on her,¡± Faust continued. ¡°I tried everything to court her, you know. I learned how to read, practiced poetry, and even sent her love notes. All of it failed miserably, by the way.¡±

    James watched in silence, finally noticing that the woman wasn¡¯t annoyed at all by the guard¡¯s attempts to court. She had a slight smile on her lips, and her eyes glanced at him occasionally as he tried to recite a poem to her. He was fumbling every line. Eventually, she broke and let out a small laugh at his attempts. The guard turned a beet red, trying to play off the moment as best he could.

    ¡°Still, she managed to bear with me,¡± Faust continued. ¡°Diane was stubborn. She¡¯d never allow a buffoon like me to chase her away. No, she was determined to outlast me. Expected that I¡¯d soon give up and leave her alone for good. Maybe she was trying to make an example out of me.¡±

    James was silent. He was focused on the couple, who were now talking earnestly. No cheesy poems or proclamations. Just a natural conversation, born out of the guardsman¡¯s embarrassment and the scholar¡¯s resignation.

    ¡°In the end, however,¡± Faust muttered. ¡°I somehow managed the impossible.¡±

    Both men stared for a moment. Soon after, Faust turned and continued his walk. James followed without a word, his flatbread wrap nearly finished. He took a couple more bites, savoring the flavor as he ate the rest.

    They walked on for a while, passing more crowds. James looked up at the sky with hands in his pocket, both eyes now usable. He wasn¡¯t sure if that was from the Blessing he had received or the strange vision Faust had put him in. Regardless, he was thankful that he could admire the sky¡¯s shifting colors. The once blue expanse was slowly turning to a darker orange, purple twilight approaching bit by bit.

    The moons were even coming out, their colorful glow illuminating the night sky. James stopped in place, watching the two moons appear alongside a sea of foreign stars. It dawned on him how little he saw the night sky back in Valenfrost, mainly due to the cloudy weather. Even then, he never really found the time to take in its beauty.

    ¡°You know,¡± James admitted as he watched the moons rise slowly. ¡°I never really got into astronomy,¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone in Valenfrost is really all that into the subject,¡± Faust said. ¡°I don¡¯t think I ever heard Dahlia even mention it.¡± He watched the sky for a moment, curious as well. Then he blinked. ¡°Actually, come here. This was going to be our last stop, but I think it works for now. Come on.¡±

    James turned and watched as Faust hurried off. He sighed and followed, keeping up with the armored man as he led him through some more streets. They arrived at a small landing not far from the library, a balcony bordering the northern side. James stepped up to the stone balustrade, peering down. This area overlooked a small park within the city, where more marble statues were raised and dressed. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    He looked up at the sky, which was clearer now without the suffocating buildings and pillars in the way. James could see foreign stars and distant constellations, some of which gave him a vague sense of familiarity. Among them all, Luna and Callisto reign like a pair of queens.

    ¡°Astronomy was always prevalent growing up,¡± Faust said as he leaned against the balcony. ¡°Cyrus had me learn all the constellations and distant stars.¡± He pointed to a couple of stars. ¡°You see that formation? That there is the Crooked Prince, with his misshaped crown and face. The star, Garus, acts as its tip.¡±

    James squinted at the formation, unsure if he could make it out. ¡°Crooked? Really?¡±

    ¡°It comes from a story Cyrus told me when I was a child. He would always tell me tales about the constellations,¡± Faust explained. ¡°The Crooked Prince was once the son of an honorable King who had built his empire out of goodwill. However, after the King¡¯s death, the Prince went mad with greed. He ruled like a tyrant until a crooked witch cursed him. The Prince was to go through trials of merit to prove himself. In the end, however, his own greed failed him, and he was condemned to the stars at a warning.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ blunt,¡± James commented. ¡°Is this your first time telling stories?¡±

    ¡°I was never good at it,¡± Faust said with a laugh.

    ¡°What about that star over there?¡± James pointed to one that reminded him of Polaris.

    ¡°Urichal, I think Cyrus called it,¡± Faust muttered. ¡°It¡¯s part of the constellation that makes up the Wraith.¡±

    ¡°Wraith? What¡¯s the story behind that?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Nothing special, really,¡± Faust admitted. ¡°It is a story of caution. The Wraith was once a man who had bargained his life away for power. However, at the end of his journey, he became more monster than man. And so, with what little humanity he had left, he condemned himself to the stars.¡±

    ¡°As a warning,¡± James murmured.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Faust said. He gestured to the two moons above, their glow illuminating the scenery. ¡°The sister moons have stories too, you know? There is a particular tale that is my favorite.¡±

    ¡°I think I can already guess what it entails,¡± James sighed. ¡°It involves a romantic interest, probably the sun, and a lot of jealousy. Ultimately, both sisters learn an important lesson and grow close as a result. How¡¯s that?¡±

    Faust let out a hearty chuckle. ¡°Diane would hate you for that. Accurate as you were, the point of a story isn¡¯t to guess its ending or even its lesson.¡±

    ¡°Then what¡¯s the point?¡± James asked. ¡°If not for the ending?¡±

    ¡°A wise woman once told me that a story¡¯s purpose is to instill a lesson and emotion,¡± Faust said. ¡°To give you another viewpoint or to make you feel something. Most of all, it is to entertain. You can¡¯t have fun if you¡¯re constantly spoiling yourself.¡±

    ¡°I just don¡¯t like time wasted,¡± James said as he shrugged. ¡°Not to insult Diane, of course. She sounded wise.¡±

    Faust smiled. ¡°As much as I¡¯d agree, Diane didn¡¯t say those words.¡±

    James raised an eyebrow, but Faust didn¡¯t seem to notice. The Centurion had his focus on the darkening sky, face pensive. Before James could even ask, Faust finally spoke.

    ¡°We have one more place to go.¡±

    <hr>

    The two men arrived at what looked to be a palace, with limestone walls surrounding its perimeter. James examined the building, which stood a good three stories high. Colorful banners hung from balconies and pillars, all embroidered with symbols of flowers, swords, and olive branches. The building was also magnificently built, with carved artistry and elegant stonework. James felt like he was looking at a place of worship.

    ¡°This is the Emperor¡¯s Palace,¡± Faust said as he approached an opening in the limestone wall. James finally realized that there were no guards at all. In fact, there wasn¡¯t any sign of life anywhere.

    ¡°Faust¡­¡±

    ¡°This is where the Emperor usually holds events and banquets,¡± Faust continued, ¡°He doesn¡¯t really live here. He usually lays his head somewhere much more secure within the city, kept safe by an honor guard. This place, it¡¯s more of a formality.¡±

    James watched the Centurion walk into the palace. He cursed and followed behind, looking around himself as he did so. Both strolled through the entrance hall, which was decorated with more banners and expensive art. James caught glimpses of jade vases, golden paintings, and even a statue made of some white marble.

    ¡°I attended many events here,¡± Faust said as he ran a hand over some of the pillars. ¡°But I never really felt like I belonged. Regardless of my rank or standing.¡±

    James was silent, following Faust as they headed up wide stairs. They continued along the upper floors until they reached a balcony overlooking Arendton. Faust leaned over the balustrade, arms folded as he watched the sun finally set. Stars twinkled in the sky like faint beacons, their constellations vaguely familiar to James.

    ¡°What are we doing here?¡± James asked softly as he looked down at the city streets. People still flowed through the open roads, lanterns alight as they illuminated colorful ribbons and sashes.

    ¡°We¡¯re enjoying the view,¡± Faust said.

    ¡°Not this,¡± James muttered as he gestured all around him. ¡°What are we doing here? In your past? In your memories? It was nice, sure, but why?¡±

    Faust turned to him, brow furrowed. ¡°You¡¯re my friend, James.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer anything!¡± James shouted, hands thrown up. ¡°You¡¯re obviously trying to make me feel better. About everything that happened! You¡¯re trying to make me forget.¡±

    ¡°Why would I do that?¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯ve been curled up in bed for days because I tried to kill myself,¡± James explained, frantic frustration flowing into his voice. It cracked a little, bit by bit. ¡°I saw that same look in Naomi¡¯s eyes. That damn look! Like I¡¯m some broken mess in need of repair. You all think you can patch me up and send me back into the fray! That¡¯s all that I am, aren¡¯t I? A sword to call upon when things look uncertain? I know that¡¯s what Lukas wants from me. I know he thinks I¡¯m the answer to this mess. Hell, I¡¯m betting even Freyja thinks the same way!¡±

    Faust just looked at James, a pained expression in his eyes.

    ¡°I just¡­ I just don¡¯t know anymore,¡± James said, a bit more softly, as his steam ran out. He was already beginning to have second thoughts, especially after what he had been told about his Blessing, which was starting to sound more like a curse.

    You shall live to see your every achievement burn to ash.

    ¡°I¡¯m so tired,¡± he whispered. ¡°So tired.¡±

    ¡°James,¡± Faust muttered.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can keep going,¡± James said with gritted teeth. ¡°If I can keep continuing to fight. Even with the Blessing, I¡¯m still afraid, Faust. Of what will happen to them.¡±

    Faust was silent for a long moment, his gaze still on the stars. Finally, he spoke. ¡°I can¡¯t promise you anything. I can¡¯t swear to you that things aren¡¯t bad right now. Hell, I¡¯m also scared of what might happen from our influence. But there is something that I do know.¡±

    James stared at the Centurion, who gripped the balustrade. ¡°If you choose to stay in that bed and do nothing, then our friends will die. Blood-Irk will burn Yorktown to the ground. Ivan will get away with the murder of our crew. Unless, of course, we both do something about it. James, we had enough time to wallow in our misery and past. We both had time to think. Now we have to act.¡±

    James looked over at the city below, body trembling as he recalled the horrible experience of dying. Instinctively, he rubbed a hand over the spot where Eilif had stabbed him. He shuddered a little. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m not strong enough¡­ I don¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°James,¡± Faust whispered. ¡°Listen to me. You are not alone.¡±

    An air of silence followed those words, both men still as the wind blew past them. James stared at the stars above, hands trembling. He focused on one constellation of stars, one that looked too familiar. An image played within his mind, one of a man drawing the shape into the dirt. Rocks at its points, shaping the image of a bird in flight.

    <blockquote>

    ¡°The Phoenix,¡± his father had said. ¡°A creature of myth, one that carries an important message of rebirth and persistence. My father wanted me to learn the others, like the Wolf or the Soldier, but I had more of a fondness for this one.¡±

    James¡¯ father stood up straight with a wide grin, his short blond hair swept back from the breeze. He looked up at the darkening sky, his expression faltering as he watched the stars become visible.

    ¡°The Phoenix reminds me that the most important step of any journey is not the beginning. Nor is it the end. Do you know what it is, James?¡±

    </blockquote>

    James felt his mouth dry at the memory, his lips mumbling as he recalled the answer.

    ¡°The most important part is the will to keep going. That¡¯s all that matters, that next step. That¡¯s why we pick ourselves up and press forth,¡± Faust said softly. ¡°Your father told you that, no? You always used to say it to yourself. Regardless of the situation.¡±

    James did not say anything. He only closed his eyes, recalling another memory. One that he had buried all these years.

    <blockquote>

    ¡®Don¡¯t grieve,¡± his father had said, his once powerful build reduced to a scrawny body. His hair was more white than blond, and his once shiny green eyes were now dulling. ¡°Don¡¯t be scared. Just remember what I told you. Keep making that next step. Keep pressing forth. Regardless of what happens. I will always be with you, James.¡±

    ¡°I promise.¡±

    </blockquote>

    He had always taken those words to heart, always pressing forth, regardless of his struggles. James had told himself those words constantly throughout his life¡ªthrough his studies in college, the stressful moments of his job, and the strains in his relationships¡ªeven during his time here, in Valenfrost. Through life and death, he had pulled through, even when the weight of it all threatened to break him.

    James had come out alive. He had always saved his loved ones. Whether fate was involved or not, he knew his determination had not come from divine intervention. It had always come from his father¡¯s last words.

    With a deep breath, James steeled himself. His body stopped shaking, regardless of his inner turmoil. The voices were faint, but they still whispered and chanted in the back of his mind. He ignored their taunts and insults for now. Faust was right. There was no time for his misery to take hold, not when the people he loved were in danger.

    ¡®Just try, right? That¡¯s all I need to do.¡¯

    James looked to the Centurion, hands clenched into fists as he gritted his teeth.

    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s do this.¡±

 B.4 Chapter 41: Weaknesses

    Seamus had never been good with pressure. Even before he snapped, the heir to the Halvorson clan was always a quiet and meek person. Skilled enough to kill men and fast enough to do it in succession, sure, but ask him to choose between certain cases of wine, and he¡¯d freeze and ponder the question longer than necessary. It was a wonder that Kate had managed to get him to court her properly.

    Even now, Seamus struggled with handling pressure and stress. He had trouble figuring out Kate¡¯s wants and was confused more times than he¡¯d like to admit when she tried to throw him hints.

    So, it was no wonder that he failed to react properly when orcs attacked the Northern Front.

    ¡°Get to arms! Now!¡± someone shouted right next to him. Gruk, an orc who was in charge of Bone Squad. Seamus turned to the squad leader, who bore a strange frilled mane on his helmet. He gestured to the nearby rack of spears, which laid against the palisade that had recently been erected in the inner sections of the island.

    Seamus watched as both orcs and men rushed to grab spears, their focus on beyond the wall, beyond the forest that surrounded them. On the gravel beach, a front that was still underprepared for the upcoming assault. The same assault that had come earlier than expected.

    ¡°I want an update on their numbers and a messenger to send to Frue Astera!¡± Gruk commanded as he stood upon the wallwalk, his hands raising a spotting glass over the parapet. A nearby messenger, a human, stumbled to the stairs that led to the wall walk, nerves clearly getting the best of them. Seamus recognized them as one of the scribes who had been hired months back by James to keep a check on merchant funds and Vindis revenue. He had assumed most of them would be kept around the town hall to keep track of and assist Dahlia with her new duties. Now, however, it seemed as if they served a different purpose.

    Seamus shook himself out of his initial surprise and fear, his focus on the top of the wall. He hurried to follow the messenger, being careful not to step on any rotted wood or misplaced floorboard. While he commended the orcs for their timely construction, he did not trust their disregard for safety.

    He reached the wall walk just as the messenger wrote down the message Gruk gave him. After a couple seconds, the scribe nodded and hurried past Seamus toward the town hall, where the island¡¯s current base lay.  Seamus watched him go, silently cursing the Domain spell that had wreaked havoc on their magical communications. No longer would they be able to use spell crystals to send messages across the island. Now, they relied on runners who were hindered by terrain and would take ten times as long to deliver vital messages.

    ¡°How¡¯s it looking?¡± Seamus asked as he watched their forces rush to the outer defenses, which were still under construction. The trenches, while easy on paper, had turned out to be somewhat difficult to dig out. For one, the hard dirt was nearly impossible to dig through, and the orcs had to use picks and axes to soften it enough. Still, with what they had, they should stand a better chance. At least, that was what Seamus hoped.

    ¡°They¡¯re having trouble with the barbed wire,¡± Gruk said as he held the spotting glass to his eye. He watched for a few seconds and passed the tool to Seamus, who gingerly took it. He hesitated and peered through.

    Through the barren branches and trees, Seamus could get a glimpse of the gravel beach. The attacking orcs were just as he remembered, their armor consisting of scrap steel that was strapped to their bodies with wire and rope. Their crude weapons were rusted, and it was clear they weren¡¯t properly taken care of.

    Seamus couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit of relief and joy when he watched the orcs come across the field of barbed wire that spread across the tree line, where the gravel ended and the terrain moved uphill. Tunneled in by the dirt cliffs that rose higher than they stood, the orcs were forced to traverse the gnarled field of steel thorns.

    They struggled through the field, clearly not used to it. All the while, they were pelted with spears and rocks by the incoming forces. For a minute, it seemed like they¡¯d all just retreat and leave the Northern Front. Yet that possibility waned as the orcs forced their way through, ignoring the barbs that tore at their skin.

    ¡°They¡¯re going to break through,¡± Seamus realized aloud in horror. He took a step back, his hands handing the spotting glass back to Gruk, who gave a grunt.

    ¡°Just as I thought,¡± the orc growled. ¡°Those bastards could lose an arm and still want to fight. This won¡¯t be easy.¡±

    ¡°What can we do?¡± Seamus asked, his hands gripping on the wall. Even without the spotting glass, he could see how the distant blobs of humans and orcs clashed with the invaders. He flinched despite the lack of noise. A deep fear began to rear its ugly head, the situation bringing it to life within Seamus.

    He gritted his teeth and tried to force that fear back. No, this was not the fort. Yorktown would not fall to these bastards. Seamus had to strike his chest with a fist to drive that feeling back. He was stronger, better. Meek, still, but better at hiding his fear. He would no longer be that coward again.

    ¡°We wait for an answer from the Frue and perhaps reinforcements. Regardless, we¡¯ll hold ground here and hope those bastards don¡¯t break through,¡± Gruk said.

    ¡°I can help,¡± Seamus muttered, his hand feeling for his side sword. ¡°I can fight.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Gruk commanded with a gruff denial. ¡°You¡¯re too important for the Northern Front. You¡¯re not allowed to fight.¡±

    Seamus internally cursed at that but did not reply. He knew better than to go running into a fight like this. Still, it pained him to know that there were men and orcs willing to put their lives on the line for him. It reminded him of a darker time.

    Both of them watched the distant battle with grim resolve, Gruk ordering and moving troops during the ordeal. While Silas was technically commander of the Northern Front, he left the battle tactics to his second, Gruk. The orc was a member of the Monster Hunters, Horuk¡¯s own clan. He now stood in as their leader until the aforementioned Horuk returned to command them once more.

    After nearly an hour of this, the attacking orcs broke and retreated. They hurried back through the barbed wire, leaving their wounded and dead behind. While Seamus couldn¡¯t hear much, he could still catch the faint echoes of cheering in the distance. The attackers were repelled. Still, why did this feel the farthest thing from a victory?

    ¡°Shit,¡± Gruk muttered. He spat something green to the side. ¡°I figured as much.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Seamus started to ask, but then the scribe from earlier arrived back. He huffed and panted with exertion, face red as he struggled to climb the steps. He raised a piece of parchment above his head, straight at Gruk.

    ¡°Frue Astera¡­¡± the messenger panted. ¡°She says¡­¡±

    ¡°Gimme that,¡± Gruk growled as he took the paper. ¡°Take a breather before you pass out on my battlements.¡± The orc glanced at the words, staring at them intently before he handed it to Seamus. ¡°I can¡¯t read this.¡±

    Seamus blinked at that but still accepted the missive. He skimmed the written words.

    ¡°Dahlia says that the other fronts aren¡¯t under attack. She conferred with Felix and Helen via Elaine to confirm this.¡±

    ¡°Just as I figured,¡± Gruk said with a grunt. He crossed his arms and looked toward the distant aftermath. ¡°This was a false attack. They want to probe for weaknesses, see if there¡¯s any holes in our defenses.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Seamus said, his hand lowering the parchment as he stared out at where the battle took place. Judging by the bodies, he could barely make out where the fighting stopped. The trenches.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°They know about the trenches now,¡± Gruk said, almost as if he read the young man¡¯s thoughts.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Seamus simply replied, void of any other words. He could only watch, his heart pounding as he took in the now-devolving situation.

    <hr>

    When Seamus arrived at the longhouse, he was surprised to find it packed with scribbling scribes and soldiers, all shouting and speaking over each other. The chaos of the town hall was something he still wasn¡¯t used to as of yet. Neither Dahlia, it seemed, as the young man spotted the Frue amidst the scrambling men and women. Her voice was drowned out in the cacophony, her hands gesturing to papers and general directions. Messengers stopped by and rushed off to their destinations, shoving past the entrance as they made their way.

    Seamus could see how most of the scribes were focused on organizing and taking reports from incoming soldiers, their calls for specifics filling the longhouse with a buzz that was vaguely familiar to him. Seamus shook off that feeling and instead headed his way to Dahlia, who was talking to the latest messenger. Seamus recognized them as Elaine, the bard now acting as a vital messenger throughout the island, thanks to her unique spells and utterances.

    He watched as the bard relayed a message, her voice hushed as she handed a folded letter, the messy signature signifying it as coming from the Southern Front, where Helen was stationed to watch over. Dahlia nodded and took the letter before she handed one of her own to the clearly exhausted bard.

    ¡°Take this to Silas. He should be scouting the western part of the island,¡± she said before she gave Elaine another slip of paper with her neat signature. ¡°Make sure to head to Falrick¡¯s with this. He¡¯ll requisition you a couple vitality potions for your run.¡±

    Elaine gave a silent nod, her body perking up a little as she took the paper. Without a word, she turned and headed out. Seamus watched her go, a frown on his lips as he turned to Dahlia. She leaned over her table, which was covered in ripped scraps of paper that were fervently scribbled on by desperate and hasty hands.

    ¡°Message?¡± Dahlia asked as Seamus walked up to her place in the longhouse.

    ¡°Just wanted to check up on you,¡± Seamus admitted. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t easy on you despite the help. I could help more if I can, but¡­¡±

    Dahlia nodded. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to have another casting up your sleeve? Perhaps one that can speed you up like that fancy Flash Strike?¡±

    Seamus grimaced and shook his head. ¡°I haven¡¯t been able to replicate Flash Strike since Vindis. And that¡¯s the only one I can remember. The other two are unknown to me, and Falrick himself doesn¡¯t know which ones they could be.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t he teach you?¡± Dahlia asked with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°Well, he taught me the basics of meditation and attunement. The spells were learned through my studying on my lonesome.¡± Seamus revealed. ¡°Falrick was a busy man during those times, barely had enough time to assist me in learning. He just threw a couple tomes at me and wished me the best of luck.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­.¡± Dahlia blinked and tried to find the words. ¡°It is a miracle that you¡¯ve managed to learn three castings on your own.¡±

    ¡°Two,¡± Seamus corrected. ¡°My mother taught me Flash Strike. At least, according to what I can dredge up from my shattered memories.¡±

    He looked around the busy longhouse, listening to the shouts of reports and updates. ¡°The Northern Front was the only one they attacked,¡± he muttered to her.

    Dahlia nodded.

    ¡°It was also one of our most protected ones,¡± Seamus continued.

    Dahlia nodded again.

    ¡°They saw the trenches.¡±

    Dahlia did not respond. Seamus turned back to her and suppressed his fear. It would do none of them any good if he allowed himself to be taken in by his anxiety. ¡°Please tell me that we¡¯re making progress in our defenses.¡±

    A week had passed since their last meeting about building up island defenses. A week since they started employing trenches and barbed defenses. The Fireball mines were still a work in progress, pushed back by a few days. Seamus thanked the gods for the convenient timing, for if those orcs knew about them¡­

    ¡°Falrick will start planting those runes soon,¡± Dahlia said in a breath, loud enough for Seamus to hear but quiet enough to not allow any of the scribes to hear. ¡°Marion has already started drawing warding sigils around vital points. She believes that she could diminish the effects of the Dissonance Cloud enough to allow me to send a message.¡±

    Seamus perked up at that but did his best to lower expectations. He needed to be prepared for the worst, just in case. He learned long ago that wishful thinking, more often than not, bit him in the ass.

    ¡°Marion? The undead?¡± Seamus recalled the living corpse that had made a stir around the island half a month back when Malik had left her behind as his stand-in. She was a disturbing thing, with glossy eyes, and unnaturally pale skin, her voice almost a wisp. Yet Marion moved around like a real person, talked with mannerisms befitting a young woman, and even learned sarcasm at some point. Strange all around.

    Dahlia nodded, failing to hide her visible disgust at the mention of Malik¡¯s servant. ¡°Apparently, she picked up a few things from our dear necromancer. I¡¯m not sure of the full extent of her abilities since she does not specify what she is proficient in.¡±

    ¡°Regardless, her knowledge is useful,¡± Seamus muttered with a thoughtful tap to his chin. A morbid thought crossed his mind, making him grimace. Dahlia noticed it and raised an eyebrow. Seamus sighed and decided to speak his mind. ¡°Can¡­ Can she raise the bodies Malik hid around the island? Perhaps even some of the orcs we killed today?¡±

    The second those words left him, Seamus felt nauseous. He had never been good with death, reanimated or not. It left a sour taste in his mouth and turned his stomach upside down. No, Seamus loathed the idea of bringing dead bodies back to life. Still, the option presented them with an opportunity to minimize friendly casualties. Hel, the corpses could probably act as fodder, giving their forces ample time to turn tides against the orcs.

    Dahlia visibly seemed to consider the option, her eyes closing as a deep frown formed on her lips. She pondered for a moment before shuddering and shaking her head.

    ¡°No. I don¡¯t even think Marion can do such a thing, but I¡¯d rather not find out. Besides, Malik placed certain enchantments on those corpses. If her attempts fail, then we¡¯re left to burn the cadavers and waste even more time,¡± Dahlia said. She looked at Seamus, who did his best not to show any sense of relief. Or disappointment.

    ¡°Of course,¡± Seamus said with a nod. ¡°It was just an idea. Perhaps we won¡¯t need to if we get that message through.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Dahlia agreed. Seamus watched the new Frue with clear worry. There was exhaustion clear in the way she slumped in place, those sullen eyes indicating sleepless nights. He could tell that this siege wasn¡¯t the only thing that was weighing down on her. With an awkward hand, Seamus gently grabbed her shoulder. He gave her what he hoped was his best reassuring smile.

    Dahlia looked at him, her brow raised as Seamus tried to find the right words. He sputtered a little, tripping over himself as he tried to say, ¡®Everything will be alright¡¯ and ¡®You¡¯re not alone in this¡¯ at the same time.

    He ended up saying, ¡°Everything will be alone in this. You¡¯re not alright.¡±

    Dahlia stared. Seamus blinked and tried to reorient himself. ¡°I¡­ I meant to say¨C¡±

    His friend laughed, her eyes closing as she allowed her to double over. Seamus watched with burning cheeks, the entire longhouse going silent as their Frue giggled and snorted, her hand covering her mouth as she tried to muffle the noise. After a few seconds, Dahlia stood back up, her back straightening as she did her best to hold back another wave of laughter. She nearly broke when she saw Seamus¡¯ look of surprise and embarrassment.

    Seamus couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at that, his closed fist going over his lips as he coughed. He was happy to see that despite his fumbling, Dahlia¡¯s spirits were raised. She smiled brightly at him, her tired expression from before now gone. She stood up straighter, which made Seamus¡¯ embarrassing display even more worth it.

    Two months ago, this sight of her would be accompanied by another person, one who would¡¯ve laughed along and tried his best to be sincere to poor Seamus. That person wasn¡¯t here, however, and Seamus felt an emptiness at the realization. He held back the frown that threatened to bring his smile down.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be heading to the town to check our defenses there,¡± Seamus said. ¡°And look out for Kate. Will you be fine here? I can send Felix to help.¡±

    Dahlia shook her head. ¡°No, I¡¯m quite alright here. I¡¯ll handle things.¡±

    Seamus nodded and broadened his grin. ¡°Good. I¡¯ll be off then.¡±

    As he began to walk away, Dahlia called after him one last time.

    ¡°Seamus?¡±

    He turned to see her.

    ¡°Thank you. For being here.¡±

    Seamus smiled and turned to leave the longhouse.

 B.4 Chapter 42: Prototype

    Haggard was no blacksmith. Despite his favored weapon of choice, the drifter had little to no idea how smithing worked. The hammer he carried was just a memento, if anything, taken from a distant time and place. A time that he would rather not remember.

    The workshop around him blazed with a heat that emanated from the furnace, the air around it shimmering with an intensity Haggard knew well. He stared at its open maw, recalling a small noise that echoed in his head like a faint chime.

    ting

    ting

    ting

    Haggard held back a shudder as he focused his attention on the dwarf before him. Rockford wasn¡¯t as grumpy as he wanted others to believe; he was just uncomfortable with people around his workplace. Haggard didn¡¯t blame him. Everything here was intentional, to the scattered hammers, piles of scrap, and seemingly bizarre tool placement. It all had a purpose, Haggard knew. He saw it in the way Rockford worked, every movement careful and precise. If just one thing was out of place¡­

    Well, Haggard prayed for anyone who was brave enough to disturb the dwarf¡¯s organized chaos. While the blacksmith wasn¡¯t nearly as young or strong as Bjorn was, he was still a tough bastard. Haggard had seen it firsthand these past days.

    He watched silently as Rockford finished up his work, his hand opening a window to let out some of the room¡¯s heat.

    ¡°Done?¡± Haggard asked.

    ¡°For now,¡± Rockford responded with a sigh. The aged dwarf¡¯s face was glistening with sweat and soot, a result of an entire day¡¯s work. Still, he didn¡¯t seem to be too tired. If anything, he looked ready for another twelve hours of hard labor.

    ¡°How is progress?¡± Haggard said as he looked around the workshop. Despite the days that have passed, Rockford¡¯s area didn¡¯t seem all too crowded. In fact, now that he thought about it, the drifter failed to see any signs of their secret project.

    ¡°We moved it somewhere else,¡± Rockford explained as he headed to a backroom. Haggard blinked, noting that the slim room was far too small for their ambitious workings. He followed the dwarf, curious as they both stepped in. The dwarf idly scratched his chin as he looked around the dimly lit backroom, the source of light being a pitiful spell crystal.

    As he looked around, something BOOMED nearby. The wooden floor lurched in response to the loud, muffled noise, nearly sending Haggard tumbling. Rockford just ignored it, his hand feeling the wall. Haggard swiveled around in confusion. Did something explode out in the Silver District? No¡­ no, that explosion came from below.

    ¡°Here we go,¡± Rockford finally said, his hand smacking a switch at the side of the room. The floor at the end of the slim room then opened up, revealing a section underneath.

    ¡®Inside the platform itself,¡¯ Haggard realized.

    ¡°Here, put these on,¡± Rockford mumbled as he handed Haggard some thick gloves and gambeson. After the drifter fitted them on, he was handed a padded hood and more gloves. These ones resembled thick mittens, the material similar to chainmail. Once those were on, the dwarf reached over and handed one last thing.

    Haggard stared at the strange spectacles, which held tinted glass and were bordered by steel.

    ¡°Goggles,¡± Rockford said from his muffled hood. He was fitting on the goggles. He looked utterly ridiculous in all the protection.

    ¡°Do we need this?¡± Haggard asked as he put them on, noting the muffs that fitted onto his ears.

    ¡°What?!¡± Rockford shouted in confusion.

    ¡°DO we need all this?!¡± Haggard shouted back, his own hearing becoming distant.

    ¡°Only on a good day,¡± the dwarf replied with a shout. ¡°On a bad day¡­ Well, we¡¯re pretty much fucked then.¡±

    Haggard grimaced underneath his padded hood, his body stiff as it tried to move comfortably down the steps leading into the cellar. He followed Rockford down to a low-ceiling room that was surprisingly spacious. A long workbench lay before them, scrap and prototypes scattered across it as a small contingent of gnomes worked on them.

    Haggard watched them work, a female gnome at their lead as she directed them and shouted. Underneath all that protection, he could recognize her.

    ¡°Hilda?¡± Haggard loudly said. Rockford nodded at that.

    ¡°Good work for her,¡± the dwarf said. ¡°I think it reminds her of the good times with Vinn, back when they worked on blast powder.¡±

    Haggard nodded slowly, his eyes squinting as he tried to make out what they were doing. Despite the bright spell crystals illuminating the cellar, the tinted goggles made it difficult to make out finer details.

    ¡°Two new workers?¡± Haggard asked as he watched the group of gnomes lug something heavy to the far side of the room. He noted how one-half of the cellar was unoccupied, piles of what looked like gravel lining the other end.

    ¡°Hilda hired them from the outer markets,¡± Rockford explained. ¡°She vouched for them.¡±

    Haggard grumbled at that. ¡°Vouched or not, we need to be careful with who we let in here. The last thing we need is word getting out to the city guard.¡±

    ¡°They work for us, no?¡± Rockford asked.

    ¡°Yes, but I doubt that means they¡¯ll just allow us to blow holes in platforms,¡± Haggard said.

    The dwarf shrugged at that. ¡°We haven¡¯t done much damage to them. Nathan¡¯s protection runes and wards have kept it all in one piece so far.¡±

    ¡°So far,¡± Haggard emphasized under his breath, despite knowing full well that Rockford couldn¡¯t hear him through those damnable muffs. Once the group of hired gnomes set their metal contraption on a stand, Haggard decided to approach. They stopped once they saw him, their bodies stiffening as they watched him lumber over. A couple even shied away.

    Yet Hilda stood with a confidence that Haggard hadn¡¯t seen before. Even through her padded face and spectacled eyes, the drifter could catch a hint of a small smile. He felt a pang of pride at seeing her so composed. Starting this project had given the grieving gnome something to do and keep busy with. Something that could keep her mind occupied enough. Hel, Haggard had heard that the artificer had gotten a full night¡¯s rest the other day.

    ¡°Hilda,¡± Haggard said as he stopped before her. The gnome puffed her chest out a little, pride visible in her posture.

    ¡®She made a breakthrough,¡¯ Haggard guessed. ¡®Either that, or she fixed up that bracer from Aldren.¡¯

    Weeks ago, Seamus had brought over a mangled vambrace from Aldren. It was a curious thing, with an even stranger contraption attached to it. Haggard had no idea what it was, and neither did Rockford. Hilda had a hint of an idea, but she had told him she needed time to figure out its function.

    ¡°Sir Haggard,¡± Hilda said loudly, her voice muffled. ¡°I see you¡¯ve come to see our progress?¡±

    ¡°I have.¡±

    ¡°Good! I have been excited to show you this!¡± Hilda chirped as she waved for one of the gnomes. They quickly scampered to the long bench, picking through prototypes and scrap metal. They came back with a small box, opened to reveal two distinct devices.

    Haggard had called them wands, but they were more akin to short nubbed cudgels, with their strange grips and short lengths. It reminded him of those dueling canes the nobility carried back in Norum and other Lumen-controlled cities.

    Hilda picked one of the gunnes¡ªas James and Rockford had called it¡ªthe thick steel barrel short enough to fit in Haggard¡¯s hand. Yet it looked like a stump in the gnome¡¯s hand. She held it with two hands, showcasing it to the drifter.

    ¡°This is the first prototype. Jarl Holter called it a ¡®flintlock¡¯ and described its process to me. It has such an interesting mechanism¡­ despite our Jarl¡¯s crude craftsmanship,¡± Hilda said with a nervous laugh. ¡°Anyway, it suffered from a lot of imperfections, like barrel length and lack of grip stability. Also, the flint mechanism¡­¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    She droned on about some things Haggard didn¡¯t understand, her finger pointing at key points on the gunne.

    ¡°Anyway, I managed to improve the design a little here,¡± Hilda finished as she placed the bulky thing in the case. She then took out the second prototype, which was a lot more slender and longer. Haggard watched as Hilda showed it off, the gnome eventually showing him the end of the barrel, which was lined with strange ridges.

    ¡°It has a couple extra parts to improve the mechanism Jarl Holter designed,¡± Hilda explained. She cocked the mechanism¡¯s lock back, which made a small click. Haggard felt a part of him squirm deep within.

    ¡®If that¡¯s anything like a rune¡­¡¯

    He stepped to the side, away from the barrel¡¯s end.

    ¡°I also managed to fix up its accuracy,¡± Hilda added.

    ¡°Accuracy?¡± Haggard asked. ¡°Straight barrel means it shoots straight, no?¡±

    Hilda laughed at that, like he told a funny joke.

    ¡°No, not at all,¡± she explained. ¡°In fact, you see, when I was testing the first prototype, I noticed that the effective range was as close as five paces! Longleg paces, of course.¡±

    Haggard blinked at that. That short of a range? At that point, you might as well use a sword.

    ¡°And, even in that range, the projectile could barely pierce through plate armor. It was even deflected by a basic cuirass.¡±

    ¡°What? Seriously?¡± Haggard was shocked.

    ¡°Yes!¡± Hilda nodded furiously, yet there was a tinge of excitement. ¡°You see, I came to an epiphany during testing. Jarl Holter told me once that these gunnes had once dominated the battlefields of his world when it was introduced. Pierced basic armor and gambeson. However, what we both failed to realize was that his world never had magic.¡±

    Haggard blinked at that, and something clicked. ¡°Caelus¡¯ balls¡­¡±

    Castings. All around Azura, for hundreds of years, people had access to Arcane Bolts and Power Shots. Magically enhanced projectiles forced people to change the way armor was forged. While normal steel could only go so far, certain pieces of armor were made with the intention of deflecting and redirecting powerful projectiles like bolts or enhanced arrows. Enchantments bolstered that by twofold, making it difficult for archers and magicians alike. This gunne, as advanced as it seemed, was no better at ranged combat than the average archer and mage.

    ¡°But I fixed it,¡± Hilda said with excitement. She raised the second prototype in front of Haggard and proceeded to break it in half. He flinched, sure of himself that he saw the gnome tear steel apart with ease. Yet that thought disappeared when he saw the hinges.

    ¡°I found that the ball ammo was making it inaccurate, so I fixed it,¡± Hilda said. ¡°By making my own custom projectiles that could actually shoot straight. Then I fiddled with the barrel¡¯s inside and got rid of the smooth bore since that was also messing with accuracy.¡±

    ¡®In only mere days, you¡¯ve managed to do this?¡¯ Haggard thought, watching Hilda pull off her outer gloves, leaving her fingers free to move. She then grabbed a distinct piece of iron from the box, the object slightly bigger than her thumb. She loaded the small piece within the chamber inside the gunne¡¯s open mechanism and shut it close. Hilda fiddled with the lock and hammer before she pointed the barrel¡¯s end at the other end of the room where the piles of gravel were.

    After a couple of seconds, a loud BANG sounded out. Ringing accompanied it¡ªdespite Haggard¡¯s ear muffs¡ªand he watched something rip through the air and strike the gravel. Hilda damn nearly toppled over from the demonstration, her feet skidding and her hands raising the gunne high above her head as she grinned widely.

    ¡°Get the armor!¡± she shouted at her group, and they all moved. As they did so, Haggard looked back at Rockford, who was also smiling underneath his protections. The dwarf sauntered up and nodded toward the gunne in Hilda¡¯s hand.

    They said nothing as the gnomes placed a set of dented plate armor before Hilda. Haggard watched as she broke the weapon open and loaded in one more of the iron balls within. She shut it closed and aimed once more. The armor set was clearly ten paces away, far out of the first prototype¡¯s range.

    Hilda aimed for a moment, hands steady. Her body visibly took a deep breath and went still. Another loud BANG echoed, and Haggard watched as the projectile struck the steel breastplate, instantly warping it and punching in the blink of an eye. It struck the gravel behind it, leaving a smoking hole in the armor that twisted into a spiral.

    The gnomes cheered on Hilda, who ejected the spent round out of her gunne. She looked over at Haggard, who gave an approving nod.

    ¡°Arm our soldiers with thirty of these, and we¡¯ll be unstoppable,¡± Haggard said to Rockford. ¡°No need for training with bows or magic. Hel, this could be as revolutionary as the first rune.¡±

    The dwarf cringed at that. ¡°Yeah, it would be. If it weren¡¯t for the expensive ammo, materials, and the five gnomes we have employed. You do know that those projectiles are roughly worth a valdora each? Don¡¯t even get me started on how many prototypes Hilda went through.¡±

    Haggard blinked, and a sudden sense of dread overcame him. ¡°Shit. How are our funds?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re barely scraping by,¡± Rockford admitted. ¡°We¡¯re technically now on Nathan¡¯s personal coffers right now. Thank Horus, that man was an adventurer in the past.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s funding this?¡± Haggard asked, confused.

    ¡°Of course. Sure, he technically doesn¡¯t want to send men to Yorktown, but he¡¯s willing to explore our options,¡± Rockford explained. ¡°Even expensive options such as this.¡±

    Once Hilda was finished placing the prototype away, she hurried over to Haggard. She was practically beaming at him, clearly proud of her work. Haggard hid his worries and placed a smile on his lips. He was good at that, hiding his inner turmoil with laughs and positivity. It helped not to spread negativity amongst his friends and colleagues.

    ¡°Good work,¡± he said to Hilda. ¡°Perhaps in time, we can come up with something that could help the clan on a grander scale. For now, however, I want to know if there¡¯s anything that could be of use soon.¡±

    He made sure to emphasize the importance of their situation, for time was not on their side. Yorktown was in danger, and Haggard had a duty to make sure those orc bastards didn¡¯t raze it all.

    ¡®Dammit all, I¡¯m starting to think like Helen of all people.¡¯

    That woman had changed Haggard for the worst, he knew. As he mentally contemplated that, he noted Hilda¡¯s reaction to his words. She restrained her smile and nodded with a curt professionalism that she surely got from Wheaton.

    ¡°Of course. Follow me.¡±

    Haggard trailed behind Hilda, who led him to the long piece of black metal the gnomes were handling earlier.

    ¡°When we were experimenting with the blast powder Nathan got us, we had an idea for something that could be used on a bigger scale than just interpersonal combat,¡± Hilda explained as she tapped the large slag of metal. Haggard looked at it, eyebrow raising. Now that he was closer, he could see that it was, in fact, a large barrel.

    ¡°So we came up with this, another idea that we found in Jarl Holter¡¯s scribblings,¡± Hilda explained. She dug underneath her gambeson and produced a folded piece of parchment. She carefully opened it, revealing messy handwriting and sketches. Among them were designs that faintly resembled the large barrel Haggard was looking at.

    ¡°Cannon,¡± Hilda said. ¡°It is a cannon, commonly used for sieges or naval combat back in Jarl Holter¡¯s world.¡±

    Haggard slowly nodded, amazed. ¡°So it¡¯s a bigger version of the gunne?¡±

    Hilda nodded. ¡°It fires a large steel ball, said to rip through ships like paper. Not like a Fireball, which only damages the outside of a hull.¡±

    ¡°It also can¡¯t be deflected by protection wards,¡± Haggard muttered. ¡°If it flies anywhere near as fast as the normal gunne, then it¡¯ll be enough to break them like nothing.¡±

    Ideas swarmed his mind, tactics, and applications. This could also change everything.

    ¡°There is one problem, however,¡± Hilda said with a sigh. ¡°The powder charge.¡±

    Haggard cursed internally. He had forgotten about that. ¡°Not much left?¡±

    ¡°Only enough to fire this cannon once,¡± Hilda explained. ¡°At least, according to the math I¡¯ve done. Either way, there is still the chance that this thing¡¯s accuracy will be off if the smooth bore prototype is to be considered.¡±

    ¡°Ah, christ,¡± Haggard cursed, taking a note from James unintentionally. He had no idea what the word meant or its significance, but he liked it nonetheless. ¡°So we have nothing.¡±

    Hilda gave a solemn nod. ¡°I¡­ I could make more ammunition for the second prototype with the rest of our powder, but¡­¡±

    ¡°I doubt it¡¯d work well against an armada of orcs,¡± Rockford said. ¡°Even if Haggard managed to get close enough.¡±

    Haggard was silent as he placed a hand on the cannon, brow furrowed as he stewed deep within. They were so close to finding a solution to their problem. They were so close to procuring a weapon that could win them this siege.

    ¡®Perhaps we should¡¯ve poured our efforts into looking for James.¡¯

    Haggard had doubts they¡¯d find the Jarl initially since he disappeared off the face of Valenfrost not long after his supposed meeting with Ivan Falk. Rumors spoke that James was dead, that his ship was looted and taken as a trophy by the Jarl of the Hawk Clan. Haggard called bullshit on that and was certain that James was still alive and kicking. He knew full well that the man was unkillable. Hel, he doubted a point-blank Fireball would finish the determined Outlander off.

    Something clicked within Haggard¡¯s mind. He turned to Rockford and Hilda so quickly that he startled them.

    ¡°Where is Nathan?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Raven Keep,¡± Rockford said with confusion. ¡°You know this, no?¡¯

    ¡°Of course,¡± Haggard said with a padded facepalm. He quickly pushed past the two, heading straight for the stairs.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Hilda called out. ¡°Why are you going to him? You¡¯re not going to ask for more powder, are you? I¡¯ve already tried yesterday, he already gave us all he could extort out of the Magistars in Haven!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to ask for powder,¡± Haggard said with a grin. ¡°I have a different idea for our charge. Something much more¡­ natural.¡±

 B.4 Chapter 43: To Pick Yourself Up

    Naomi walked through the halls of the Villtur Keep, brow furrowed as she followed the servant Emma had called for. She wasn¡¯t sure what to believe as word was passed around the Keep in hushed whispers and rumors. She only hoped that at least some of it was true. At the same time, the implications worried her greatly. One did not just get over grief and trauma in the span of a week. Naomi knew this very well from her own experiences. She knew that the pain never went away. It never truly faded.

    So it surprised her greatly when she found out that James Holter had risen from his slump and was currently practicing on the grounds behind the Keep, where men trained and sparred. At least when it wasn¡¯t covered in blankets of snow. The only explanation she had managed to get was that James had cleared it out himself.

    ¡®What the hell is he doing? And why the sudden change?¡¯ Naomi thought to herself as she turned a corner and saw a crowd of servants and guardsmen around the Keep¡¯s rear exit. She pushed past them, regardless of their protests and calls.

    ¡°Out of the way!¡± Naomi growled as she shoved past a line of persistent bystanders. ¡°And get back to your duties before Jarl Villtur sees you all standing about.¡±

    While some dispersed at her prodding, others just watched on. Naomi turned to their focus and saw him.

    There was a young man in the middle of the snowy training ground, hands holding a blunted greatsword. He swung and stabbed with it, footwork straight as he did so. His blond hair was short and mopped with sweat as it flung around with his movements. He had no beard, and his lack of facial hair highlighted his strong and sharp features. Naomi stared at the sight of this person, who grunted as he maneuvered his sword to a new position.

    It was only then that she realized this was James. He had cut his hair short and even shaved off that mess of a beard. He looked like an entirely different person now, the only pertaining feature being those tired eyes and disgruntled scowl. Naomi watched as he practiced his swings, arms shaking as he failed time after time.

    After a minute of this, she shooed off the rest of the bystanders before stepping up to the cleared ring. James was already growing slower, body clearly lethargic. He even faltered a little toward the end of his practice swings, sword nearly slipping out of his grasp as he rested its tip in the dirt.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Naomi asked as she approached.

    ¡°Practicing,¡± James said bluntly. He caught his breath slowly, head bowed as he rested his arms on the longsword¡¯s guard.

    ¡°Are you¡­ okay?¡± Naomi said, a little softer this time. She wasn¡¯t sure how else to phrase the question. The last time she had seen James, the man had been contemplating death. He had teetered on the line of sanity and had not seemed all in one sound mind. To see him here practicing of all things was something that both confused and worried her.

    ¡°I¡¯m alive,¡± James said, breathing steady as he picked his sword back up. ¡°So that¡¯s something. Either I can see it as a curse or a blessing.¡±

    He took his stance, sword pointed forth.

    ¡°And which of those did you decide on?¡± Naomi asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure yet,¡± James admitted with a grunt. He swung his weapon. ¡°I¡¯ll figure it out later when Yorktown is safe.¡±

    Naomi blinked at that. ¡°So you¡¯re considering Lukas¡¯ offer.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± James breathed as he hit a break in his practice. ¡°I already accepted it. I talked to him this morning.¡±

    Naomi just stared at him, unsure of how to process his answer. Something clearly changed within the other Outlander, something unnerving. Before she could prod further, Lukas arrived on the grounds, fur cloak wavering as he stepped toward the cleared circle. He gave Naomi a knowing look and she clenched her jaw. She dismissed herself and walked over to the other Jarl, who stood watching James.

    ¡°What did you say to him?¡± Naomi whispered as she approached Lukas.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Lukas muttered with a neutral look. ¡°Earlier this morning, he called for me. I came to his room to find him shaving his face and stating that he¡¯d accept my help to break Yorktown¡¯s siege. He then asked me to clear the training field so he could practice.¡±

    ¡°Did he explain why he changed his mind?¡± Naomi asked.

    ¡°No,¡± Lukas said. ¡°He just acted as if nothing happened.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t ask?¡± Naomi prodded. Lukas just grunted. She furrowed her brow. ¡°Pardon my questioning, but someone in his state of mind doesn¡¯t just get up one day feeling all better! Something¡¯s not right about him. At least, not in the head.¡±

    ¡°What do you suppose we do then?¡± Lukas growled. ¡°Let him drown in his own misery? I swear, sometimes I feel as if you are doing your damndest to obstruct me.¡±

    Naomi didn¡¯t answer that. In some ways, she was guilty of that. She still didn¡¯t fully trust the Jarl, despite his insistence that he wasn¡¯t vying to take control of the south or north like Deimos was trying to do. Naomi had been betrayed and lied to before. She had met more than her fair share of ¡®ambitious¡¯ leaders.

    ¡®Damn you, Hanabi,¡¯ Naomi thought with disdain. Almost like it had prodded, her left eye twitched underneath the bandages. She winced, feeling its barbs wiggle deep inside her skull. While it didn¡¯t have control over her anymore, the cursed thing always tried to find cracks within her psyche. It always tried whenever negative thoughts crossed her mind.

    ¡®I control you now,¡¯ Naomi thought. ¡®I won¡¯t ever let you take over. Not like last time.¡¯

    She half expected a voice, a disturbingly human one. Yet none came. Naomi almost sighed in relief. Xenithu hadn¡¯t spoken with her since their last clash. She hoped it would stay that way.

    ¡°What¡¯s the plan now?¡± she asked quietly.

    ¡°We prepare,¡± Lukas muttered. ¡°I need to gather the crews of my ships for a raid on Ivan¡¯s Keep. The journey itself shouldn¡¯t take us longer than a day or two, depending on the winds.¡±

    ¡°Will we have enough time?¡± Naomi wondered aloud, more to herself. ¡°Do you think Yorktown can hold out that long?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Lukas said with some hesitance. ¡°But this is our best chance.¡±

    Naomi didn¡¯t say anything more. She only watched James, who swung his sword with a vigor that was familiar to her. It didn¡¯t take an empath to know that the young Jarl wanted vengeance. He had been robbed and left for dead, his crew either dead or seriously injured. Naomi could understand the anger that festered from such a situation. She was intimate with such a rage.

    In response, her eye twitched again. She scowled and forced away the wave of glee that came from the barbs. That thing loved misery and fed on negativity like a suckling child. Naomi was careful to be reserved with her emotions these past two years, but every now and then failed to keep them in check.

    ¡®It¡¯s getting harder every month,¡¯ she thought to herself. Was the eye getting stronger? Or was she slipping again? Perhaps coming here on this quest was a bad idea. Naomi had already reopened some old wounds just from the past month alone. It was becoming clear to her that she hadn¡¯t fully moved on from Kasan.

    Without saying anything, Naomi turned and headed back into the Keep, hand clutching the left side of her head. She had to try her hardest not to grit her teeth in pain as the Beholder eye¡¯s barbs did their job. Which was, for the past four years, to make sure she didn¡¯t die a painful death.

    <hr>

    James grunted as his sword struck hard dirt, the blunt tip bouncing a little. He took in a breath of the frosty air, lungs burning in response. His arms were sore, and his legs shook a little as he kept his stance. Regardless of all this, he had fuck all in terms of progress. While it was a little cathartic to swing around the long iron blade, James failed to properly replicate the motions Harald had shown him the first time he picked up the weapon.

    The old veteran had been a master with the sword, his movements graceful and his swings properly executed. Even when he had trained James with sticks, Harald had moved like a tempest. Just the memory of it pained James greatly, his chest tightening as the image of Harald¡¯s corpse appeared in his mind. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡®Focus. No time for pain. No time for grief.¡¯

    James forced down the pain and pulled the greatsword into position. Helen was his most recent teacher, as hesitant as she was. She was still a decent fighter, and while she wasn¡¯t an expert in swords, she knew enough to show him the proper ways to use them.

    With a grunt, he swung forth wide, sword whooshing in the air. His muscles burned with exertion, legs stiffening as he steadied his stance. He tried to swing another attack, one to follow up his initial swing. Yet once he tried, his knees buckled, and his hands slipped a little. In response, the second swing failed magnificently. His sword nearly flew out of his grip, and his feet slid on the hard ground. He nearly fell over as a result.

    ¡°Dammit!¡± he hissed with gritted teeth. He dropped the sword in frustration, his wrists sore from the constant movements. With a heavy breath, James sat on the ground in a plop. He took a minute to regain his composure, his chest heaving as he tried to figure out what he was doing wrong.

    ¡®Rest for a moment longer,¡¯ Faust said deep inside his head. ¡®Your body needs time.¡¯

    Almost as if on cue, James could feel something burn deep within him. He held back a surprised noise as his muscles relaxed, the pain within them evaporating away. His wrists stopped throbbing at the same time as well as his feet.

    ¡°What¡­ What was that?¡± James asked softly, his lungs no longer out of breath. Ever since the spirit returned to his headspace, things had been¡­ different. James had no idea how to explain it, only that something had changed. He recalled the spirit doing something similar during their fight on the longship.

    Back then, Faust strengthened him during his faceoff against Kira, the Beholder user. Those invisible cuts she dealt should have killed him from the first few slashes, let alone the massive amount of blood he lost during the short exchange.

    James had tried to ask Faust what had changed, but the spirit himself did not know. All he could say was that he could help now in more ways than he could have before. James wondered at first if it had something to do with the Blessing that¡­.

    He stopped himself, the name eluding him. Blessing¡­ who had given it to him?

    ¡®James?¡¯ Faust asked.

    ¡®It¡¯s nothing,¡¯ the young Jarl muttered internally. ¡®Were you saying something?¡¯

    ¡®I was saying that I can restore your vigor,¡¯ Faust said. ¡®This feeling. It¡¯s¡­ new to me as well.¡¯

    James slowly nodded, his fingers clenching as he felt his body pulse with newfound stamina. They would have to test this new power. Figure out its limits. That¡¯s what Dahlia would have recommended had she been here with him.

    He winced and willed those hurting thoughts away from his mind. He needed to be focused.

    ¡°Any idea what my Blessing does?¡± James asked as he closed his left eye, leaving his brand new right one to see clearly. There was nothing different about his newly restored vision, nothing he could notice anyway. It felt just like¡­ a normal eye. He wasn¡¯t really sure if there was anything special about it.

    ¡®No,¡¯ Faust responded. ¡®I can¡¯t really sense anything different within you. At least anything other than that.¡¯

    James shivered at the spirit¡¯s emphasized mention. He didn¡¯t need to search within himself to sense it as well. Ever since his revival, the pulses deep within his body only got stronger, almost like a heartbeat.

    ¡°Whatever it is, we need to talk to Malik about it,¡± James muttered under his breath, reopening his left eye. ¡°Lukas told me that he¡¯s still alive. Injured, but alive.¡±

    ¡®Agreed,¡¯ Faust said. ¡®He did something to us, James. I felt it when I was reawakened within my memories. Someone spoke to me during those visions. I need answers as to who and why.¡¯

    James nodded, his head turning as he picked out someone approaching the training grounds.

    ¡®I saw something too,¡¯ James thought, continuing the conversation inside his mind. ¡®When I first woke up, I was¡­ confused about who I was. I felt like I was three different people.¡¯

    ¡®I vaguely remember this¡­¡¯ Faust murmured. ¡®It was like that day, back when Dahlia forced me into your body.¡¯

    ¡®Three people,¡¯ James repeated. ¡®Outlander, Centurion¡­¡¯

    ¡®Scholar,¡¯ Faust finished. ¡®Why Scholar? A Lumen one at that.¡¯

    ¡®You think Malik forced another soul into me?¡¯ James asked, his hands clenched into fists.

    ¡®Unlikely, but possible,¡¯ Faust admitted. ¡®We must speak to him about this as soon as possible.¡¯

    James nodded in agreement just as the stranger reached him. He looked up at the man, who bent over to pick up the dropped sword. James blinked and stood back up, opening his mouth to speak.

    Before he could get a word out, the stranger took his stance and performed a couple practice swings. He did them perfectly, his feet absolutely still and his hands moving with dexterity. He went on for half a minute before finishing with a quick flourish. With a shake of his head, he set the blade point down to the dirt.

    ¡°Weight seems fine, and the grip is quite well-wrapped,¡± he said with a surprised grunt. He looked at James with a raised eyebrow. The stranger was shorter than him by a few inches, his brown hair swept back to reveal a pale face with dark brown eyes. His beard was little more than a stubble around the edges of his square jaw, a prominent mustache curling above his lips. ¡°So why were you swinging it around like a troubled toddler?¡±

    His accent was¡­ weird. He sounded both familiar and strange at the same time. James stared at the stranger, who was clearly foreign. From where, he couldn¡¯t place it.

    ¡°I¡­ Well, it¡¯s been some time¡­¡±

    ¡°I am jostling you,¡± the man said, his tongue clicking as he tested the sword¡¯s weight. ¡°You obviously have an experience with this weapon, judging from your basic stances and swings. Still, you¡¯re horribly dunn when it comes to training.¡±

    James blinked, confused as he tried to process the words. ¡°Dunn? What are you¡­?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re attempting a maneuver that¡¯s several skill gaps above you, my good man,¡± the stranger said. ¡°And call me Ranor. Dunn is an insult where I¡¯m from. Then again, I suppose it¡¯s also one here¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± James interrupted, hand raised to stop Ranor from speaking. ¡°Who exactly are you?¡±

    ¡°My swordmaster,¡± a voice sounded out from behind. James turned to see Lukas walking up to them both, hands behind his back as he approached. ¡°Ranor is responsible for training my officers and making sure my skills stay sharp.¡±

    ¡°And I make sure that barbarians such as yourself don¡¯t start swinging weapons aimlessly around these grounds,¡± Ranor commented. ¡°It¡¯s a safety hazard, you know.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t swinging aimlessly,¡± James said sharply. ¡°I was trying to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Perform a billhook maneuver, followed by a guard strike and downward chop,¡± Ranor said. He raised the longsword in a particularly regal way. His body was posed almost like he was preparing to dance, feet even tilted in anticipation.  ¡°The Carapace Breaker. A popular tactic for senior officers in Lumen City. Goes by a different name there, but the movements are the same.¡±

    Without allowing James to get another word in, Ranor rushed forth into the training ground, sword swinging at the empty breeze. Despite having no opponent, the swordmaster struck his weapon with precision and tact, body swiftly moving like a ribbon in the wind. James watched, starstrucked, as Ranor performed the maneuver with ease. It was like watching Harald all those months ago, back when the veteran had demonstrated his skill.

    Yet even back then, Harald moved slower to allow James to watch every precise movement. Ranor, on the other hand, did not show that courtesy. He moved at a speed that was comparable to Seamus¡¯ own, his sword a blur as he repeated the swings and slashes.

    Ranor eventually finished after the third repeat, blade resting on his shoulder as he let out a breath. ¡°Now, I suppose you want to be able to do what I do, correct?¡±

    James nodded slowly, confused and slightly awed.

    Ranor scratched at his jaw. ¡°It¡¯s not impossible to teach you. It could be done. With the same difficulty as teaching a batblin to read, of course, but very possible.¡±

    ¡°Teaching a¡­ what?¡±

    ¡°Allegory,¡± Ranor said as he turned to James. ¡°I can help sharpen your skills and even teach you a few tricks. Of course, I can¡¯t turn you into a master in only two days. Not even in fairy tales is such a thing possible.¡± He handed the sword to James, who grabbed it with hesitance.

    James furrowed his brow and looked at the swordmaster, who looked back with a pensive look. He was studying James with an expression of curiosity, his eyebrow raised. After a moment, his frown turned into a smile and he turned away.

    ¡°Now, do a hundred downward swings,¡± he ordered.

    ¡°What?¡± James responded with confusion. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to actually train me?¡±

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± Ranor admitted. ¡°Today, I want to gauge your overall ability. Tomorrow, we¡¯ll train for real.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have the time for this,¡± James argued before feeling a hand on his shoulder. Lukas loomed over him, eyes like hardened emeralds.

    ¡°Time might not be on our side, but Ranor knows what he teaches,¡± the Jarl murmured. ¡°You will be wise to listen to his instruction.¡±

    James tugged his shoulder away from Lukas, a scowl on his face as he locked gazes with him. He wanted to say something biting to the man but held back his scorn. This man did save his life. And he was willing to help James rescue Yorktown, even though it was clearly for his own gain.

    He didn¡¯t say anything as he stepped away from Lukas, hands gripping the sword tightly. With little hesitation, he began to swing downwards, muscles still sore. Despite this, he continued on, performing his hundred swings without complaint.

 B.4 Chapter 44: The Scholar

    Two days after his reunion with Faust, James was informed of Malik¡¯s full recovery. He was finally allowed to visit the necromancer in his room, no longer held back by Emma¡¯s insistence that the man needed rest before anything. Apparently, Malik¡¯s behavior was noted as unusually delusional and spotty. They initially thought it was something similar to what James went through. However, after some time¡ªand James'' convincing¡ªit was eventually ruled that the necromancer was acting as himself.

    When James arrived at Malik¡¯s door, he was surprised to learn that it lay only a hallway away from his own room. It was a strange thought, knowing that they were so close yet at the same time so distant from each other.

    ¡®Not that it would¡¯ve changed anything.¡¯

    James grimaced as he rested a hand on the doorknob, his healed wounds tingling at the memory of his painful resurrection back on that ship. While he didn¡¯t remember much of the details, he knew Malik was the one responsible for reviving him from certain death. To know that the necromancer had such a power was¡­ disturbing.

    ¡®He could¡¯ve healed my wound during my bond¡¯s deterioration.¡¯

    James knew he shouldn¡¯t have expected Malik to help with that problem, since all the man wanted was to study James¡¯ corpse once he dropped dead. Still, it was discomforting to know he had the power to help and had chosen to do nothing.

    James set his jaw and took a deep breath, willing away his emotions toward the necromancer. He needed to approach this with a calm demeanor. If there was a way to get answers, it would not come from confrontational anger. After a second of mulling over his questions, James released his breath and opened the door.

    The room was lit only by the soft light of the window, which was half-covered with sheets. Through the sparse lighting, James could only make out the bed a lone man sat in. Despite the shadows, Malik looked tired. His eyes were more sunken in than usual, and his cheeks were deathly gaunt. His hands rested on his lap, a small puzzle cube held between his fingers as he tried to solve it.

    The necromancer, ironically, looked like a corpse.

    ¡°I already said I was not hungry,¡± Malik muttered softly, his eyes focused on the cube. He glanced up with annoyance, his expression instantly changing once he saw James. He froze in place, his brow furrowed as he stared.

    ¡°Weren¡¯t expecting me?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Not sure,¡± Malik said. ¡°Depends on who I¡¯m talking to.¡±

    ¡°Who do you think?¡± James scoffed as he stepped in, hand closing the door. ¡°We need to talk, Malik.¡±

    ¡°The Outlander, then?¡± Malik said with a sigh of relief. He relaxed in his bed, his head settling on the pillows behind him. ¡°What do you need from me?¡±

    ¡°Answers,¡± James answered. He stepped closer to bed, a little cautious.

    ¡°I doubt I can give them to you,¡± Malik said. He resumed with his puzzle cube. ¡°I have forgotten a great deal since our last interaction. My head is a¡­ swirl. I am not even sure I know who I am. Who I really am.¡±

    James raised an eyebrow. Perhaps Emma was correct in insisting that the man was not entirely well.

    ¡°You¡¯re Malik Ymir, aren¡¯t you?¡± he asked regardless.

    Malik laughed at that, a genuine action that creeped James out even more. ¡°That, my undying friend, is one of my many, many lies.¡±

    ¡°Who are you, then? Really?¡±

    Malik shrugged, his finger making a swirling motion at his head. ¡°It¡¯s all gone. All just¡­ absorbed, I suppose. By what, not even I know. All that¡¯s left is Malik. Even that is starting to drain away.¡± He chuckled. ¡°I don¡¯t even remember what I wanted with your corpse. Not exactly, at least.¡±

    James stared at the necromancer, who seemed like an entirely different person now.

    ¡°Do you at least know what you did to me?¡± he asked, almost hesitantly. Judging from how Malik was acting, there was a good chance that the man had also forgotten what he had done to revive James.

    ¡°I bestowed Life upon you,¡± Malik said bluntly. ¡°Two reserves, to be exact. I could¡¯ve used more, should¡¯ve used more, but I wasn¡¯t entirely sure if you were going to come back¡­ whole.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean by whole?¡± James prodded, concerned.

    ¡°With your soul attached,¡± Malik explained. ¡°Had I revived you as a corpse with no soul tethered, you would¡¯ve become a Hollow. Self-explanatory, that name is. Thankfully, it did not happen. In fact, you came back entirely whole. Faust and Gryff included.¡±

    James stared at the necromancer, who didn¡¯t seem to notice what he had just said.

    ¡°Gryff?¡± he said slowly, the name sounding unreal to him.

    ¡°The Lumen Knight, yes,¡± Malik said with a wave. ¡°The same one you apparently killed last Frost. Funny how coincidental that was.¡±

    James only stared. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but he had expected this answer. Deep down, he always knew that the dead man¡¯s influence was still around, in more than one way. Yet, at the same time, it was haunting to hear it confirmed so casually.

    ¡°So his soul, Gryff¡¯s soul, is inside me?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Malik responded calmly, still playing with his cube. ¡°When Nyrkl brought you back, they tethered a third soul to bolster your healing. Obviously, Faust wasn¡¯t going to be enough to heal a wound brought upon by Lightcaller itself, fragment or not.¡±

    ¡°You¡­ You knew about this?¡± James asked, horrified. ¡°This whole time?¡±

    ¡°No, of course not!¡± Malik scoffed. ¡°When you came back that night, everything I knew about the nature of Convergence was shattered. It took me quite some time to put the pieces together. I only managed to note the knight¡¯s soul a couple months after those events.¡±

    ¡°So you knew, and you never told me about him?¡± James was almost shouting, his anger broiling underneath as he stepped toward the bed. If Malik was intimidated by the motion, he didn¡¯t show it.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to panic you or, gods forbid, allow him to awaken within you,¡± Malik explained with a disdainful look. ¡°I wanted to study the nature of his inclusion and maybe get a clue on how Delphine¡¯s Blessing broke. Even now, I am unsure of what exactly happened in those black waters.¡± He shrugged, hand waving in the air. ¡°Regardless, what I say is purely conjecture. I still don¡¯t know how Delphine¡¯s Blessing was broken. The sword Arthur stabbed you with was no ordinary blade, you know.¡±

    ¡°I kinda figured¡­¡± James said, taken off track in his thoughts. The strange golden sword used to exorcise Faust had disappeared after Arthur¡¯s death, leaving James and Dahlia to believe that it was a manifestation of some exclusive casting he had.

    ¡°It was a piece of a Divine Blade,¡± Malik explained. ¡°Delphine¡¯s own essence manifested into physical form. Lightcaller, I believe, was the proper name for it. It should have kept you dead. But it didn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Nyrk¡ª that thing prevented it,¡± James said, shaking his head. ¡°How do you even know its name?¡±

    ¡°Why would I know?¡± Malik asked, shrugging. ¡°I erased that bit of me a long while ago.¡±

    James narrowed his gaze at the bedridden man, who had just played with his puzzle cube like normal.

    ¡°What do you mean, erased?¡± he asked.

    Malik stopped in place, hands still as he avoided eye contact.

    ¡°Do you know the nature of the power that runs through your ley lines?¡± he asked. ¡°Mana, or whatever they call it, is more than just a fancy way to summon sparks and ice from your fingertips. It is life itself, in a way. Now, there are many ways to use this power. Many ways to destroy and many ways to create. However, I have lost much of its knowledge over the years¡­¡±

    The necromancer rubbed at the side of his temple as if he had a headache. ¡°She would have done a better job at explaining this¡­¡± he muttered. ¡°She wrote down the notes for Dremor¡¯s sake.¡±

    ¡°She?¡± James asked.

    ¡°Just rambling,¡± Malik explained with a shake of his head. ¡°You see, I possess a unique ability, one that was taught to me a lifetime ago. There is this power, separate from the one that runs through your ley lines. It is¡­ hard to explain. Simply put, I can create these reserves of Life, a great power that holds our very souls together. It can heal someone from death itself, or, in my case, make someone live for a very, very long time.

    ¡°But there is a price, as with everything relating to the nature of Convergence. For you and other spellcasters here, the price comes with the limits of these runes and their complexity. And obviously, the tax it takes out on the body. Overheating, for example. Or mind deterioration as another. Or perhaps, an intervention of fate itself.¡± Malik waved away those examples. ¡°Either way, the price for my boon is simple. Knowledge.¡±

    ¡°Knowledge,¡± James repeated.

    Malik nodded. ¡°Memories, to be specific. At first, it seemed like a great deal. I erase some memories of my experiences and receive a reserve of Life, enough to retain my youth for a decade. A steal, I should say. But things get complicated if you live a life of constant danger. When you find yourself facing certain death more times than you can count. One moment, you¡¯re erasing memories of useless things you were taught, and the next¡­¡±Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    A moment of silence followed his words, Malik¡¯s body slumping as his eyes stared out at nothingness. Then he spoke once more. ¡°At some point, you have to decide between living for a while longer or saving a few memories that hold next to no meaning. I mean, you¡¯ve found yourself dying before, haven''t you? Would you rather submit yourself to that void? Or would you sacrifice pieces of the past?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± James found himself trailing off. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t forget. I can¡¯t forget.¡±

    ¡°Even if those precious memories hold no value in that darkness beyond?¡± Malik questioned. James only stared, hands still clenched. He wasn¡¯t sure what it was about the question, but the idea of it pissed him off. James had experienced both sides of that coin. He had seen the void beyond death, and it had haunted him. He had also temporarily lost his memory during the initial days of his recovery. Just the thought of reliving those days, clueless to the world around him and the ones who needed him, terrified him.

    Both were outcomes that he never wanted to live through again.

    ¡°Enough with the hypotheticals,¡± James growled. ¡°You and I need to talk about what you did to me.¡±

    ¡°I healed you,¡± Malik said simply. ¡°Healed you completely. From the wounds Faust and Gryff held together and the killing blow that Immortal dealt to you. Even gave you a few years of youth while I was at it too. However¡­¡± he squinted, expression unreadable. ¡°Your eye was¡­ how did you¡­?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not important,¡± James said. ¡°You need to give me answers. How did Gryff lurk within my body for so long? Why hasn¡¯t he made himself present yet? How do I get rid of him?¡±

    Malik just watched him, body still as he fiddled with his puzzle box. ¡°Gryff¡¯s spirit is¡­ how should I place this? He¡¯s in a state of purgatory. When I first found him within your body, he was strangely docile. Like someone who is asleep, to put it into simple terms.¡±

    ¡°So he¡¯s just in limbo?¡± James asked.

    ¡°In a sense,¡± Malik said. ¡°Gryff cannot influence your mind and body like Faust. He is just simply there. Existing.¡±

    ¡®Tell him what I told you,¡¯ Faust spoke. ¡®About the visions.¡¯

    ¡°Faust said he experienced something strange during my coma,¡± James started. ¡°He re-lived his past, and was speaking to someone in between visages.  He thinks it was Gryff.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fascinating,¡± Malik muttered, hands placing the cube away. He leaned in, eyes twinkling. ¡°I never assumed that Gryff might try communicating with the other spirit. How strange. What exactly did they talk about? Did Gryff show signs that he was self-aware? Did he manifest?¡±

    ¡°He just spoke to Faust,¡± James explained. ¡°Asked him cryptic questions, like what he believed in and what he thought about fate.¡±

    ¡°Hrmm,¡± Malik scratched at his chin, his eyes closing as he mulled in thought. ¡°It¡¯s possible that he¡¯s become self-aware of his situation. Also possible that he has no idea. Has he spoken to you at all?¡±

    James shook his head.

    ¡°I see,¡± Malik murmured. ¡°You should stay vigilant from now on. There will be trouble if there is even a small chance of him breaking from his purgatory.¡±

    ¡°Trouble as in¡­¡±

    ¡°Do you recall the first time you and Faust met each other? Something like that, perhaps worse considering Gryff¡¯s previous life as a Lumen Knight,¡± Malik explained. He furrowed his brow a little, his hands clenching as a thought seemingly crossed his mind. ¡°What still confuses me is why Gryff was chosen to heal you that night. Tell me again, how did you initially kill Gryff?¡±

    ¡°I¡­¡± James hesitated. He shook his head. ¡°I used my drain ability. The one that Faust and I can do.¡± he demonstrated with his left hand, which glowed a soft blue as he focused Faust¡¯s spirit into it. ¡°When I tried to kill Gryff, I attempted to drain his ley lines. I couldn¡¯t, so instead, Faust and I overflowed them. The amount of power we forced into him ripped his ley lines apart.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± Malik trailed off for a moment. ¡°I never told you, did I?¡±

    ¡°About what?¡±

    Malik ignored him, his muttering growing frantic as he fished into his cloak and brought out a small black book. He flipped it open, revealing pages with unreadable glyphs. He stopped at one page. ¡°That¡¯s right, I never explained it. For what reason?¡± he tapped his head, clearly frustrated. ¡°I clearly erased that part a while ago¡­ Stupid, stupid!¡±

    ¡°Malik?¡± James started. ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t drain ley lines,¡± Malik said sharply, his hands snapping the book close. ¡°You never could. Otherwise, your reserves would have replenished anytime you did the deed. And you were out of spells when you fought Gryff. If you truly overloaded his ley lines, you would¡¯ve ended up dead like him, no?¡±

    James stared at the necromancer, unable to say anything back. Malik continued his ramble.

    ¡°You¡­ Your and Faust¡¯s bond is special,¡± Malik said slowly, almost as if he just hit an epiphany. ¡°You drain Life, James. You take what makes up someone¡¯s soul. When you killed Gryff, you overflowed him with your and Faust¡¯s own essence. No wonder Nyrkl bonded him with you; his soul must¡¯ve already been a part of you in some way.¡±

    Malik snapped his fingers. ¡°The cyromancy¡­ it isn¡¯t just a side effect, it¡¯s an imprint.¡±

    ¡°Wait, you mean to tell me that¡­¡± James trailed off, his left arm tingling at the realization. Before he could continue his sentence, Malik got up from his bed. The necromancer wobbled as he tried to gain a foothold on the floor, his hand on the wall.

    ¡°It¡¯s all still fuzzy, but I know,¡± he muttered. ¡°I know there''s still something to pursue. Your bond, your abilities, hell, maybe even your body may hold answers to what I need. But¡­¡± He stood up straight, fist banging the wall. ¡°I can¡¯t remember! Damn my past self!¡±

    James didn¡¯t listen to Malik¡¯s ramblings. Instead, he focused on his left arm, which had started creating a layer of frost over the bandages. He stared, hand raised to his face as his fingers twitched slightly. Gryff was imprinted on him. He had always been there, and James hadn¡¯t been the wiser.

    ¡®Has he been there this entire time? Even before my revival at Vindis?¡¯

    He recalled the white plane, back when he had been sure he was dead. Gryff had been waiting there, calm and collected. It was almost as if¡­

    ¡°He fucking knew¡­¡± James realized aloud in horror. Almost as if on cue, the world turned black.

    <hr>

    Whiteness. It encompassed the entirety of the plane, replacing the familiar oblivion and mist that James often associated with the mindscape. The last time he had been here, he had thought himself to be in Helheim, the perceived afterlife in Azura. Now, James knew better. Helheim was just a story, like the myths of ancient dragons and the stories of fanciful heroes.

    No, this place was something else. It did not belong to him, not cognitively, at least. This was the place where the Lumen Knight, who he killed, lay. A purgatory.

    ¡°You knew,¡± James said, his focus on the man standing before him.

    Gryff was a tall man during his lifetime, with sharp, thin features and a prominent nose. His skin was pale tan, contrasting with his long black hair and faint stubble. The most notable feature James always remembered, however, was those icy blue eyes that seemed to command respect from anyone who met them.

    ¡°I only speculated,¡± Gryff simply said, his lips pulled back into a smile. ¡°The nature of Convergence is not common knowledge, even amongst my peers. Yet from the scrolls and tomes I once read as a lad, I remembered one section.¡±

    ¡°Imprinting,¡± James muttered. ¡°That¡¯s what Malik called it.¡±

    ¡°The necromancer is quite the knowledgeable one, I¡¯ll admit,¡± Gryff said, his hands clasped behind his back. He wasn¡¯t wearing the armor he died in; his clothing instead consisted of blue scholarly robes. ¡°In fact, I suppose he knows a surprising amount, despite his mental state.¡±

    ¡°How¡­ How long have you been here?¡± James asked. He had to use every bit of his remaining sanity not to let his voice shake.

    ¡°Asking the important questions, are we?¡± Gryff chuckled. The action disturbed James more than it had any right to. He was way too casual, too laid back. It was unnatural. ¡°The answer depends on what you mean by here. As a mindless imprint of the former man I once was? Since the day you killed my living self. As a conscious spirit? Well, I think we both know when that happened.¡±

    ¡°Why now?¡± James pressed. ¡°Why did you wait so long to make yourself present? Better than that, why are you revealing yourself to me? How are you revealing yourself to me?¡±

    Gryff raised a hand to that, his smile faltering as he looked at James with a curiosity that only seemed to unsettle the young man even more.

    ¡°I wanted to watch,¡± he admitted. ¡°Bide my time and mull about my choices. You see, despite my apparent plan to imprint myself into you, there¡¯s not much I can do. I cannot take your body over. I cannot influence your mind. If anything, I¡¯m more of a source of power for you. As for how I¡¯m doing this.¡± He gestured to the white plane. ¡°I only managed to figure it out after my intrusions on Faust¡¯s memories. This is technically my first time doing it.¡±

    James nodded slowly. ¡°So¡­what do you want? Really?¡±

    Gryff shrugged. ¡°Isn¡¯t it obvious? I want knowledge. Truths. Anything a scholar would want. I¡¯ve spent so much time shackled to the whims of Delphine¡¯s church that I¡¯m thirsting at the idea of something beyond its restrictions. I want to explore, learn, and discover the universe''s secrets.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s surprisingly normal,¡± James murmured. ¡°You waited all this time and lurked around, all because you debated telling me your passions?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be honest with you,¡± the dead man said with a sigh. ¡°While I am technically just a shadow of the real Gryff Brenwick, an imprint made from his dying moments, I still carry his memories and personality. As such¡­¡± his smile fell, and he stared at James with a cold gaze. ¡°I feel nothing but hatred for you.¡±

    James stepped back from that, hand reaching for a sword that was no longer by his side. He cursed at that.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be an idiot,¡± Gryff said with a scowl. ¡°I¡¯m not going to do something so stupid as to get revenge for a man who died screaming like a coward. These emotions are illogical. I acknowledge this.¡±

    ¡°So, what now?¡± James asked slowly. ¡°What do we do now?¡±

    ¡°We proceed as normal,¡± Gryff said. ¡°You took Villtur¡¯s deal, did you not? He¡¯s going to help you get your ship back so you both can save Yorktown. Quite the plan. Ambitious, even.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s our only shot,¡± James admitted. ¡°Yorktown is half a month¡¯s sail, even with longships. Ivan¡¯s keep is just a couple days from Turstead. If we time it right, we can return home quickly enough to break the siege.¡±

    ¡°Solid,¡± Gryff responded with a nod. ¡°Solid, indeed. However, I have to ask. What does Villtur get out of this?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°What is Lukas Villtur¡¯s end goal?¡± Gryff asked. ¡°I doubt he¡¯s doing this from the goodness of his heart. Have you ever asked him?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I guess he just wants my favor,¡± James said, instantly noticing the discrepancy in those words. ¡°He pacted with me, either way. He has no choice.¡±

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t look like he¡¯s being forced,¡± Gryff pointed out. ¡°Hell, I¡¯m willing to say he looks excited to help. He cannot wait to liberate your home and help you enact your revenge.¡±

    James could feel a part of him grow cold at the dead man¡¯s sarcastic tone. He was right. Why did Lukas want to help? How did freeing Yorktown align with the man¡¯s interests?

    ¡°He wants the southern territories,¡± James said. ¡°He thinks I¡¯ll give him a portion of Ivan¡¯s holdings for his efforts.¡±

    ¡°Think a little bigger, James,¡± Gryff said. He was closer now, his eyes studying the young Jarl. ¡°Villtur is no simple politician. He does not grovel. Nor does he beg.¡±

    ¡°He takes,¡± James whispered. His eyes widened. ¡°He¡¯s found a way to break the pact, hasn¡¯t he?¡±

    ¡°Now you¡¯re thinking,¡± Gryff said. ¡°What better opportunity to take the south than to eliminate competition, eh? Get rid of the orcs, the Bastard Jarl, and the Outlander, all in one fell swoop.¡±

    ¡°Oh god.¡±

    ¡°Do what you will with that information, James,¡± Gryff chuckled as he turned away. He began to saunter off into the nothingness, his hands behind his back. ¡°Know that I will always be around, ready to speak my mind. It does get lonely here sometimes.¡±

    James did not respond as the whiteness faded into the familiar oblivion that was his mindscape.

 B.4 Chapter 45: Soul Cards

    Dirk coughed into his elbow, smoke buffeting from his nostrils as he did so. Harris, the asshole, laughed as he plucked the cigarette from Dirk¡¯s fingers. He took a couple puffs from the cursed thing, expression relaxed as he watched the young guardsman cough his lungs out.

    ¡°Who smokes this crap?¡± Dirk asked between huffs of air.

    ¡°Half this town apparently,¡± Harris responded. ¡°If that Arenian trader is anything to go by.¡±

    ¡°The weird one with the Azurvalian name?¡± Dirk asked. Harris nodded.

    ¡°I¡¯m half sure he¡¯s some kind of scammer,¡± Elaine spoke up, the Bard inspecting her drink as she sat across the guardsmen. ¡°Kiwil Samir Law does not sound like a real name.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s harmless, if a bit annoying,¡± Kate butted in, her head resting against the wall nearby.

    They were all sitting at a table in Gladis¡¯ Tavern, their spot by the corner thankfully vacant for the group of friends.

    ¡°Once you get used to it, it¡¯s quite relaxing,¡± Harris said with a puff. Dirk frowned as the Hokako smoke reached him. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but that repugnant stench actually seemed a bit alluring now. He decided to steer clear of the guardsman¡¯s smoke the next time he took a hit.

    ¡°I¡¯m still not trying it,¡± Dirk said. ¡°And you should stop as well. Hele¨CMarshal Dunn, told me that it rusts the lungs. Said if she caught even a whiff of it, she¡¯ll demote the both of us back to rooks.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like dung,¡± Harris responded with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯m leading my own squad. Who am I going to follow if she demotes me?¡±

    ¡°Kate probably,¡± Elaine answered with a shrug. ¡°You two used to serve under her leadership before, no?¡±

    ¡°Squad Four,¡± Kate mumbled. ¡°Harald let us keep those old patches, even after we were split into different squads. Said it would help us remember where we started.¡±

    ¡°Squad Four,¡± Harris groaned. ¡°I remember those days.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re acting as if those times happened ages ago,¡± Dirk said. ¡°It¡¯s only been a year since.¡±

    ¡°Lots happened in that year,¡± Harris shot back, raising his nub where his hand and forearm had once been. ¡°You know I was vying to be an archer back then. I was just grasping the basics and¡­¡±

    ¡°The Battle of Yorktown happened,¡± Kate said softly.

    Harris nodded solemnly. Dirk didn¡¯t say anything. He recalled that day, the blood and the bodies. The taste of acrid smoke and copper mixing into the air. The cries and shouts of battle. His home, desecrated. He shivered, hands clenching his mug of cider. Those horrible times. Would it come to that once more? With the orcs?

    ¡°Whatever happened to Elizabeth?¡± Harris asked suddenly. ¡°She was in Squad Four, too, wasn¡¯t she?¡±

    ¡°Only after the Lumen Knight incident,¡± Kate said. ¡°Even then, I don¡¯t think she really did much. I recall her running with us during the Midsommar Incident. Beyond that¡­¡± she blinked. ¡°I really don¡¯t know. I saw her last during Holter¡¯s departure, when she was helping Thorkel¡¯s squad offload Frostbite.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t seen her since?¡± Dirk asked.

    ¡°No¡­¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­¡± Harris trailed off as he processed the implications. He sat back in his chair, ash flakes falling from the tip of his lit cigarette.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯s alright,¡± Elaine said, her hands shuffling a deck of cards. ¡°Especially if she and her squad are around James.¡±  A small smile drifted on her lips as she straightened out the cards. ¡°Knowing him, he¡¯s already on his way to wipe out those orcs from the face of Azura altogether.¡±

    ¡°As much faith I have in the man,¡± Harris admitted with a sigh. ¡°He¡¯s been gone for way too long, no? Half a month, if I remember correctly. And not a single message or indication that he''s coming back.¡±

    Dirk frowned. ¡°We were also cut off from Vindis, too, remember? Haggard and the rest of the Ravens are over there. Who¡¯s to say that Jarl Holter hasn¡¯t convened with them? Maybe they¡¯re cooking up some plan.¡±

    ¡°Still, half a month? That¡¯s three weeks, Dirk, I don¡¯t think¡ª¡±

    ¡°Can you stop for one night?¡± Kate interrupted with a mutter. She was staring at her mug, eyes watching the mead swirl. She barely took a drink out of it. ¡°We know that the situation looks grim, Harris. We¡¯re not blind. All of us can see the mess we¡¯re in. Let us, for one night, have some hope for Freyja¡¯s sake.¡±

    The table went silent at that, both Harris and Dirk avoiding eye contact with the disgruntled guardswoman. After a moment, however, the sound of shuffling cards caught their attention. Elaine was still playing with the deck. The Bard hummed lightly, hands moving with dexterity as the cards fluttered between her fingers.

    ¡°Let¡¯s change up the topic with a song?¡± she suggested, one eye opening as she peeked at the guardsmen.

    ¡°No songs,¡± Dirk groaned, just as the Bard tried to reach for the lute that leaned against the wall nearby. She gave a dejected look as she went back to the cards.

    ¡°Shame, I¡¯ve been meaning to practice my new Illusion spells in a song,¡± Elaine murmured. ¡°How about a game then?¡±

    ¡°As long as it¡¯s not that stupid Idiot and Carper line trick,¡± Kate said as she sipped her ale.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t a game. And it was called the Idiot and¡­ oh what am I saying,¡± Elaine sighed as she set the deck down on the table. ¡°Do you fellows want to get your mind off the depressing topic or not? It¡¯s not much of a game, but it¡¯s something fun at least.¡±

    Dirk shrugged and Kate gave a half-assed nod. Harris on the other hand, leaned into the table with a noticeable excitement. He put out his lit cigarette¡ªthank Freyja¡ªand focused all his attention on the young bard.

    ¡°A game, you say?¡± he asked, a goofy smile on his face. ¡°Like Deckers? Or Regicide?¡±

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Dirk couldn¡¯t help but feel a sense of second hand embarrassment. It was painfully clear that the guardsman was infatuated with Elaine, ever since her first arrival. The worst part was that it wasn¡¯t like his other infatuations with the women of the island. At least with them, he could take a hint and properly back off, not unlike he did for Kate when she started courting Seamus. No, Harris was obsessed with getting the bard¡¯s attention, whether she cared or not.

    Surprisingly, it seemed like Elaine was none the wiser. Every compliment and clear attempts to flirt washed over her like water on a gull¡¯s back. Either she did note them¡ªand ignored them¡ªor she was ignorant to the advances. Dirk wasn¡¯t sure which was worse.

    ¡°Nothing like that,¡± Elaine admitted. She flipped the top card over to reveal a small drawing. Dirk leaned in, eyebrow raised, and saw a drawing of a court jester. Just like the stories he heard, the man wore a silly multi-colored hat and matching clothes. He had a big grin on his face, hand raised to hold up a coin. Scribed underneath were some fancy looking words. Dirk frowned and wished that he took more time to learn reading.

    ¡°I call them Soul Cards,¡± Elaine said with a small flourish from her fingers. ¡°Back at the academy, I used to play with these with my fellow classmates and teachers.¡±

    ¡°How do you play these?¡± Kate asked, eyebrow raised.

    ¡°Well, I shuffle them,¡± Elaine said, her hands picking up the deck. ¡°And I ask one of you a couple questions. Then I draw a few, and you have to pick. The card revealed, describes both you and your future.¡±

    ¡°Alright¡­¡± Kate said slowly, a curious expression on her face.

    ¡°Here, we¡¯ll start with you first,¡± Elaine started, gesturing toward the guardswoman. ¡°Pick a number between one and seven.¡±

    ¡°Uh, four?¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± Elaine drew a card and placed it face down on the table. ¡°Now, pick a month.¡±

    ¡°Yovendam.¡±

    Another card, face down.

    ¡°Now, tell me what day of which month you were born on.¡±

    ¡°The thirty-eighth of J?ntuhn.¡±

    Elaine finished with a final card draw, this one coming out after a few shuffles. She placed it along the other two and stacked them. She did one last shuffle¡ªout of sight¡ªand presented them to Kate.

    ¡°Pick one. Remember, use your intuition and heart to make the choice.¡±

    Kate nodded, brow creased as she pondered a moment. She then drew the middle one. With a flip, the entire table leaned in to see the result. It displayed the image of a kindly old man with a pointed hat, its tip crooked in a way that was familiar to Dirk.

    ¡°Ah, you got the Wizard,¡± Elaine whispered. ¡°This is a great card. It means you have a soul of strong will. It also means creativity and even hints that the near future may hold an opportunity for you.¡±

    Kate looked at the card with some suspicion. ¡°You get that from the card?¡±

    ¡°Well, they all come with a meaning,¡± the Bard explained. ¡°The thing is, fate usually plays into what card you eventually choose.¡±

    ¡°You believe that?¡±

    Elaine gave her a flat stare. No words were needed for the Bard¡¯s message to get across. A lot more crazier shit had happened before. Fate being revealed in playing cards was the farthest from the strange. Kate sighed in defeat before she handed back the card. Elaine moved to Dirk next.

    ¡°Alright, your turn.¡± she said with some renewed excitement. Dirk answered the questions quickly, with some eagerness. They were the same as Kate¡¯s, like what number he would choose and what month he liked.

    ¡°Fifteenth of Calent,¡± Dirk said finally, stating his birthday. Elaine shuffled the chosen cards and presented them to him not unlike she did for Kate. Dirk pondered for a moment, eyes closing as he focused.

    ¡®Follow your heart,¡¯ he thought absentmindedly. Eyes still closed, he reached over and randomly chose a card from the bard¡¯s hands. He opened his eyes after he set it face up on the table. Everyone leaned in again¡ªKate included¡ªto see the image of a shining star. It had six points, and seemed to be part of a constellation judging from the lines that led to two other stars that sat on the edges of the card.

    ¡°The Star of Garus,¡± Elaine read aloud. ¡°It means you have great hope in your heart, Dirk. Your optimism will one day bring out great change to your life and probably influence others. A great one, indeed.¡±

    Dirk stared at the drawn image, wowed by the card¡¯s meaning.

    ¡°Do me!¡± Harris butted in, leaning in closer to the table. Elaine nodded, a smile still on her lips as she picked the card up.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Dirk called. ¡°Can¡­ Can I keep it?¡¯

    Elaine blinked at the question, clearly not expecting it. She thought for a moment, hand rubbing her chin as she examined the card. With a sigh, she nodded. ¡°You know what, you can keep it. I¡¯m sure the deck will work just fine without that one.¡±

    Dirk grinned and reverently accepted the card. He tucked it into his pocket right after. As he did so, Elaine began to draw Harris¡¯ Soul Cards. He answered with eagerness, excitement clear in his eyes. For the first time in a while, Dirk actually felt happy for him. Harris, as much of an ass he could be, was getting better with time. He was clearly still grieving over the ones he lost during last year¡¯s raid, and his training slacked at times due to his missing hand, but he was still trying. Dirk almost felt for the man.

    ¡®You feel bad for him, because he¡¯s close to you,¡¯ Dirk realized slowly. ¡®He¡¯s always been there, hasn''t he? Why else do we drink together, talk together, and even spar together?¡¯

    At that moment, when Elaine presented the cards to Harris, Dirk came to a realization. All the time, he accompanied this man for everything. From training to off time, they had always spent the time talking and sharing with each other. Jonas Harris, the guardsman who signed up for the glory alone, the man who once thought Dirk to be a child, was his friend. His only friend outside of Kate.

    ¡°Huh,¡± Dirk muttered. He wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about this.

    ¡°What is that?¡± Harris asked as he held up the card he chose. Dirk blinked and looked at the image on it. At first, he believed it to be upside down. That was until he saw that the text was at the right place and the numbers lined up with it. The drawing, apparently, was meant to be seen upside down.

    Elaine looked at the card with a surprised look. She gently took it from Harris¡¯ hands. ¡°I think this is a dunn card.¡±

    ¡°Dunn?¡± Harris asked.

    ¡°It means defected,¡± Elaine explained. ¡°There¡¯s not supposed to be any reversed cards in this deck.¡±

    ¡°What did he get?¡± Dirk asked.

    ¡°The Knight of Embers,¡± Elaine said, her face mixed with concern. ¡°It uh¡­ It means that your soul is that of a great warrior, Harris. That you¡¯re willing to put yourself on the line to save the ones closest to you.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Harris asked, a grin forming on his lips. He took the card back, turning it so that the drawing was rightside up. Drawn on the card was a knight clad in smoldering armor, embers swirling around him as he raised a simple sword.

    ¡°What¡¯s that word Jarl Holter once used?¡± Harris asked as he examined the card. ¡°The one he said when he got his sword during Harvest?¡±

    ¡°Badass, I think?¡± Kate answered.

    ¡°Right! That¡¯s the one!¡± Harris held up the card with clear excitement. ¡°This looks badass!¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Elaine started, her hand reaching for the card. ¡°We should redraw, since this one came out dunn and all.¡±

    ¡°No way!¡± Harris said, holding the card to his chest. ¡°You told me that fate guides the cards. Perhaps I was meant to pick this one out. Besides, if it is a dunn, then you don¡¯t mind me keeping it, right?¡±

    Elaine hesitantly gave a nod. ¡°You¡¯re right, of course.¡±

    ¡°Great!¡± Harris said. He looked down at the drawing of the knight, which glittered in the candlelight. Dirk watched the guardsman tuck the card into his coin pouch, safe and soundly put away. While he did feel a little happy for Harris, he couldn¡¯t help but notice the look of concern that flashed in Elaine¡¯s expression.

    It was gone a moment later.

 B.4 Chapter 46: Crystals

    Helen knocked firmly on the hut door, snow falling all around her. Felix and Lilith stood nearby, both clad in warm clothing. Felix wore his special captain¡¯s cloak, rank pinned to its collar. His blue sash was visible underneath, wrapped around his padded coat. If it weren¡¯t for the blatant raven sewn on the thing, Helen could swear she could see the same guardsman who nearly killed her once before, back when they stood on opposite sides of a raid.

    ¡®I wonder, does he still blame me for that time?¡¯

    She still wasn¡¯t sure how Felix thought of her now. Once before, he wouldn¡¯t go a day without glowering at her, scowl always on his lips. She was responsible for the blood of his friends, and so he blamed her. Naturally. Helen never denied her part in that initial raid and, as such, didn¡¯t fault Felix for his dislike of her. Still, there were hints that he was beginning to let go of that anger. She saw it in the way he would assist in training, in the way he always backed her up during their small skirmishes against both bandit and orc.

    Even now, the guardsman captain looked casual and comfortable, his eyes focused ahead, and his expression relaxed. He even gave her a glance that didn¡¯t seethe with anger.

    ¡°So, is there a reason why you¡¯re here?¡± he asked, catching the veteran off-guard.

    ¡°Hel if I know,¡± Helen said with a shrug. ¡°Dahlia wasn¡¯t clear when she sent Elaine to fetch me and you.¡±

    ¡°What about her?¡± Felix asked as he gestured toward Lilith. The young redhead was trying to catch some snowflakes with her tongue; her head craned to the sky as she struggled. She was wrapped in a thick wool jacket, hands covered in mittens that were clearly too big for her. Her tied hair bounded with her movements, her eyes filled with wonder as she caught a few falling flakes.

    With her short height and mannerisms, Lilith looked almost like a child. That illusion only lasted until Helen recalled the brutality of her fight against Lars during Midsommar. Just the thought of it churned the veteran¡¯s stomach, her gaze turning away from the young woman.

    However, before she could properly answer Felix¡¯s question, the door in front of them opened. Dahlia stood on the other side, still dressed in those new clothes. It threw Helen off momentarily, seeing the shaman dress formally as if she were preparing to attend some fancy party in Bernis.

    ¡®Appearance matters,¡¯ she thought as the new Frue gestured for the three to enter. Helen shook the snow from her boots and cloak¡ªand made Lilith do the same¡ªbefore she stepped into the hut¡¯s warmth.

    The shaman¡¯s hut was modest, with furlined rugs and a single bed tucked by the corner. As Helen walked in, she noted a silver vase¡ªor urn¡ªsitting near the firepit. It reflected the flames in a shimmering wave, the light catching the veteran¡¯s eye. She stopped after seeing it, focusing on the foreign glyphs engraved on the urn.

    The strange language known as English continually baffled Helen. While familiar in some aspects, the glyphs she¡¯d seen were complete gibberish. While they weren¡¯t as complex as Kasani or geometric as Arenian, the words were strangely jumbled and switched. Some letters and even a couple of words were similar to Azuran, but they did little to help one understand it.

    It didn¡¯t help that their only examples for English lay on the urn and the strange identity card that James had in his wallet. Helen had only caught a glimpse of those and had decided to herself that they weren¡¯t worth the effort to understand. She had enough going on in her head.

    ¡°I¡¯ve come through a breakthrough,¡± Dahlia finally said as Felix closed the door behind himself. The Frue walked over to the small chest she kept beside the bed, hands digging through its contents. As she looked through, Lilith attempted to sniff at one of the hanging herbs. Helen absentmindedly pulled back on the redhead¡¯s coat to prevent her from outright eating them.

    ¡°Does it have something to do with that Cyrstalchemy of yours?¡± Helen asked as Lilith relented in her efforts.

    Dahlia nodded, her hands emerging from the chest with a small pouch. She emptied from it something small and glowing. It rolled around on her palm, catching the light of the flames. Helen raised an eyebrow, watching as Dahlia presented it to her.

    A crystal marble, glowing a little and radiating a slight aura. It was opaque, like cloudy glass, and roughly the size of a fingernail. Helen picked it up with her index and thumb, examining it critically.

    ¡°This holds a reserve?¡± Helen asked. She looked over at the Frue, who nodded tiredly.

    ¡°It holds exactly one spell reserve,¡± Dahlia explained with a nod, her body leaning back in the chair. Across from her, Felix was busy holding Lilith back from devouring the hanging herbs around the small shack the shaman called home.

    ¡°How long does it last for?¡± Helen said as she handed it back to Dahlia

    ¡°The journal says three days,¡± Dahlia answered as she plucked the marble from her fingers. ¡°Can last longer if I invest more reserves into its creation.¡±

    ¡°So, if you eat it, you gain a spell slot?¡± Helen prodded.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Dahlia confirmed in a mutter.

    ¡°What happens if someone who doesn¡¯t cast spells takes it?¡± Felix asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s why you¡¯re here,¡± Dahlia said, pointing a finger at the man. ¡°The notes say that Crystalchemy has a certain effect on those without magic in their ley lines. If their cryptic nature is anything to go by, it means you would be able to cast spells. Bypassing the need to link your ley lines with Azura¡¯s connection.¡±

    ¡°Me?¡± Felix asked. ¡°Why not Helen? Or Lilith here?¡±

    ¡°Lilith is only here because I promised I¡¯d take her around walking once she healed,¡± Helen explained. ¡°As for me, the marble won¡¯t do anything. I¡¯m a Dunn.¡±

    ¡°Dunn? As in, your last name?¡±

    ¡°Dunn describes someone who can never link with Azura¡¯s connection,¡± Dahlia explained. ¡°It''s rare, but there are those who are born without internal ley lines.¡±

    Felix blinked at that, looking at Helen with a strange expression. ¡°Wait, then doesn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just take the bloody marble,¡± Helen growled. Felix relented and sighed.

    ¡°Fine,¡± he murmured in defeat. He took the small glowing sphere from Dahlia¡¯s hands, grimacing as he looked at it once more.

    ¡°Look,¡± Helen started. ¡°If this works, it means Falrick can imprint physical castings on you. Castings like Snipe and Power Shot could prove vital, Felix. Do you understand?¡±

    Felix nodded grimly, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he examined the crystal. Without another complaint, he popped it into his mouth. Immediately after, Dahlia slid him a cup. He downed it right after, his frown deepening as he slammed the empty mug on the table.

    ¡°That¡¯s alcohol you gave me!¡± he coughed.

    ¡°It¡¯s all we have that¡¯s clean to drink,¡± Helen grunted. ¡°On hand, at least.¡±

    ¡°Well?¡± Dahlia asked. ¡°How do you feel?¡±

    Felix didn¡¯t answer immediately, his brow creased as he closed his eyes. After a moment, he opened them in surprise. ¡°Huh.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Helen asked, curious.

    ¡°I can feel something inside¡­ It¡¯s a faint feeling. I can¡¯t describe it.¡±

    ¡°So you do gain a reserve,¡± Dahlia said, the young Frue leaning in with interest. ¡°Can you use it?¡±

    ¡°How?¡± Helen asked. ¡°He has no spells.¡±

    ¡°Oh right, well¡­¡± Dahlia trailed off, expression falling pensive as she pondered. Before she could say anything else, however, Felix jumped in his seat. He rose quickly, breath caught in a gasp as he grabbed his chest. Helen stared at the guardsman, whose breathing quickened.

    ¡°That¡­ That was new,¡± he revealed in a breath. He touched his chest, poking it lightly.

    ¡°What happened?¡± Dahlia asked, standing as Felix leaned against the table. He looked a little shaken, eyes wide with surprise.

    ¡°I used the reserve,¡± Felix said. He looked at his hands. ¡°And¡­ my body reacted. I feel better now, a little stronger even.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Helen muttered, curiosity in her tone.

    ¡°It gave you strength?¡± Dahlia leaned in, poking at the guardsman¡¯s arm.

    ¡°It was like a rush,¡± Felix explained. ¡°Like someone injected something hot inside my muscles. But¡­ it¡¯s gone now.¡±

    ¡°The reserve or the strength?¡± Helen asked.

    ¡°Both,¡± Felix revealed. ¡°Still, I feel a lot more awake now. My exhaustion from today¡¯s training has subsided as well. I haven¡¯t felt this good in months.¡±

    ¡°How did that happen?¡± Helen questioned as she looked at Dahlia. The young woman brushed some stray hairs aside, her eyes focused on Felix.

    ¡°I suppose since his body couldn¡¯t use the reserve for spells, it just¡­ consumed it?¡± Dahlia said, almost unsure of herself. ¡°That¡¯s my guess as to what happened. Still, it was gone so fast.¡±

    ¡°Is he at least linked?¡± Helen said as she peeked at the open tome on the table. Dahlia quickly shut it, hiding what was written within.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Falrick will check on him tomorrow,¡± Dahlia explained. ¡°Until then, I suppose we could move on from that.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Felix asked, eyebrow raised. ¡°You called us out here as test rats?¡±

    ¡°More like to confirm a theory,¡± Dahlia said as she waved off the Captain. ¡°There¡¯s also still more to discuss.¡±

    Felix crossed his arms, his brow creasing. ¡°This is about the recent attacks, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Dahlia gave a tired nod. ¡°We need to start talking about evacuations.¡±

    Felix cursed at that. ¡°I was hoping we wouldn¡¯t talk about this.¡±

    Helen frowned, her stomach stirring. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re aware of this, my Frue, but we¡¯re on an island. There¡¯s nowhere to evacuate.¡±

    Dahlia shifted in her seat, her hand bringing out a roll of parchment. Without saying anything, she spread its contents out on the table. As Helen guessed, it was a map of Yorktown. Specifically, the battle map they had all been over once before. There were a couple of new annotations, specifically around the eastern side of the island.

    ¡°That¡¯s new,¡± Felix commented, leaning in. His finger tapped on the small structure marked on the eastern side. ¡°That¡¯s Harald¡¯s home, isn¡¯t it? Before he moved to Yorktown.¡±

    Dahlia nodded. ¡°This is a safe spot we can move them to,¡± she said. ¡°Harald¡¯s old cabin is still there, last I checked. It¡¯s half a day''s walk from here to there using the southern route. Like most of the eastern part of the island, it¡¯s raised at a higher altitude. The shores are basically nonexistent, replaced by steep cliffs that cannot be raided by the orcs. If we move the townsfolk there, we can get them out of the way of the fighting. It¡­ It probably won¡¯t be enough to protect them truly, but I believe this to be our best chance to reduce casualties to a minimum.¡±

    Helen listened to it all, pensive. She stared at the map, her hands clenched into fists. For a moment, she could swear she was hearing the sounds of buildings burning, the sounds of screams echoing out into the frosty air. She must have stared at the map for too long, for Lilith had started tugging at her shirt. Helen snapped out of her stupor, looking over at the young woman.

    Lilith watched Helen, her dark green eyes reflecting concern. Behind her, Felix and Dahlia discussed protocol and tactics, but they didn¡¯t seem to notice Helen.

    Are you alright? Lilith signed, her lips mouthing the words as she did so. She was doing that more often lately, mimicking spoken words in an attempt to get used to them. Helen didn¡¯t know what had spurred the young berserker to do this, but she did nothing to stop her. In a way, it showed that Lilith was learning to be herself. Slowly, bit by bit.

    Lilith tapped Helen again, and the veteran gave her a warm smile.

    Just tired, she signed back.

    Lilith stared at her, clearly not believing her. After a moment, she sighed and returned to fiddling with the puzzle cube Seamus had gifted her during the New Year Transition. Helen watched her go at it, her body relaxing a little. She didn¡¯t need to think about the past right now. Back then, she was but a grunt. A soldier with no name and no friends.

    Now, she was in the company of allies who could face the daunting shadow of inevitable battle. Helen couldn¡¯t help but smile a little at the man who was responsible for inspiring such bravado and courage.

    James Holter was not the strongest out there. He wasn¡¯t even the smartest or cunning. He was brash, a tad stupid, and even a little cowardly at times. Yet somehow, he had transformed this little town into a growing clan. He had turned mercenaries into friends and outcasts into heroes. He was¡­ something else.

    ¡°Did you catch that, Helen?¡± Felix called out. Helen blinked and turned to the Captain, who was staring at her with Dahlia on the other side of the table.

    ¡°Move the townsfolk to the safer part of the island in batches, starting tomorrow. We¡¯ll send the children and elderly first, specifically during dawn, so the orcs don¡¯t notice them being moved.¡± Helen¡¯s brain worked automatically, repeating the plan Dahlia and Felix had built up over the last few minutes.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ correct,¡± Dahlia said, surprised.

    ¡°I was sure she was dozing off that time,¡± Felix murmured with evident disappointment. ¡°How do you do that?¡±

    ¡°Mercenary secret,¡± Helen said with a grin. ¡°Now, are we done here? I got a beer in the tavern with my name on it.¡±

    ¡°Are you seriously going to drink?¡± Felix asked. ¡°You know we¡¯re heading out at dawn tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°So?¡± Helen asked as she tugged Lilith along to the door. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re not going to?¡±

    ¡°I have a duty to my people!¡±

    ¡°All I¡¯m hearing is excuses,¡± Helen chuckled.

    Felix sighed at that, his hand running through his short brown hair as he shook his head. Without arguing more, he rubbed his hands for warmth and headed out of the hut with a murmured curse.

    Helen watched him go before she looked back at the Frue. ¡°I suppose we start moving tomorrow, eh?¡±

    Dahlia nodded. ¡°Tomorrow morning.¡±

    Helen nodded, her focus moving to the door.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Dahlia called. Helen turned to see the young woman hurry over, her hand carrying something. Another one of those marbles, judging from the glow that seeped through her clenched fingers.

    ¡°Dahlia,¡± Helen started, frowning. ¡°You know my ley lines are Dunn. The marble ain¡¯t gonna have an effect on me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what you keep saying, but¡­¡± Dahlia sighed, her hand bringing up the small glowing crystal. ¡°I still want to try. I need to. Shaman Dres¡¯ notes are vague, but I know that what happened with Felix was a dud. It wasn¡¯t at all what he described.¡±

    ¡°Described?¡± Helen crossed her arms. ¡°You said you hoped that Felix¡¯s ley lines would be linked. Or, at best, give him the ability to cast spells.¡±

    ¡°I did say that, but¡­¡± Dahlia hesitated. ¡°Look, the tome says that they could restore a spell slot when used normally. However, if someone disconnected from the ley lines consumes it¡­¡± she paused momentarily, clearly debating. ¡°Shaman Dres warned me that I shouldn¡¯t spread the information in his tomes.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Helen blinked at that, confused.

    ¡°Judging from the notes he left, it seemed like my mentor was afraid of its secrets leaking, but¡­¡± Dahlia shook her head. ¡°We¡¯re basically dead already. We need every advantage. Look, Helen, if someone disconnected from the ley lines consumes this, they gain access to its raw power.¡±

    ¡°Raw power?¡±

    ¡°He only mentions it as that. But according to his descriptions of the results, it''s something much more potent,¡± Dahlia held up the glowing crystal. ¡°If I did the alchemy right, then this marble can give you strength equal to an orc¡¯s. Probably stronger.¡±

    Helen eyed the marble, cautious. ¡°Are you certain?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure, honestly,¡± Dahlia muttered. ¡°Dres didn¡¯t leave much in terms of instruction or context. There¡¯s some implications that it might not work with everyone but we might want to take the risk.¡±

    Helen looked at the tome, specifically the one the Frue had been reading when she arrived here. ¡°Have you read through his notes thoroughly?¡±

    Dahlia hesitated. ¡°Not really. I¡¯ve been so busy with the siege that I haven''t had much time to read through it all.¡±

    ¡°Then read through them,¡± Helen said. ¡°I¡¯m not risking anything until you¡¯re sure this won¡¯t have any side effects on me. No offense.¡±

    Dahlia gave a slight nod, her expression falling a little. ¡°Still, you should take it. Just in case.¡±

    Helen raised an eyebrow at that but took the marble regardless. She rolled it around her palm, eyeing its radiating surface. Without a word, she removed a copper vial from her belt. Popping the cork revealed a swirling clear liquid with bits of herbs in it.

    ¡°Is that?¡±

    ¡°Horcus leaf bits,¡± Helen confirmed as she plopped the marble in the vial. ¡°Preserved in alcohol.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ unconventional,¡± Dahlia murmured with a scrunched nose.

    ¡°Better than the tea,¡± Helen said with a grin. She corked the vial right after. ¡°I¡¯ll be seeing you, Dahlia. Take care of yourself, alright?¡±

    Dahlia nodded, her worried look from before evaporating as she watched the veteran open the hut¡¯s door.

    ¡°Be seeing you, too,¡± she muttered before Helen left the cabin.

    <hr>

    ¡°The Wizard, huh?¡±

    Seamus examined the card Kate handed to him. The wisened figure drawn on its face reminded him a little of Falrick.

    ¡°Elaine said I could have it,¡± Kate said as she plucked it from Seamus¡¯ hands. The two were currently walking by Yorktown¡¯s wall, which bordered the town, in preparation for a raid. While they couldn¡¯t walk by the harbor like they had once before, this was a close substitute.

    The night sky was also clear tonight, allowing the stars to twinkle. Seamus watched the expanse as he strolled, spotting the constellation his father called The Sword. At its tip, Erican glittered like a distant diamond.

    ¡°Seamus,¡± Kate muttered, her hand moving to grab his. ¡°Where do you think Jarl Holter is right now?¡±

    ¡°James?¡± Seamus asked. An unnerving feeling hit him, reminding him of his missing friend. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯s on his way back here. Either that, or he¡¯s discussing tactics with our friends in Vindis.¡±

    ¡°You sound so confident of him,¡± Kate said softly. She didn¡¯t meet his eyes; instead, her gaze focused on the path ahead.

    ¡°Well, he has a habit of showing up when we need him the most,¡± Seamus lightly joked. ¡°Elaine told me once that he probably does it intentionally for the drama.¡±

    Kate didn''t laugh at that. She instead frowned, grip tightening on his hand. ¡°This is serious. We¡¯re days¡ªmaybe even hours¡ªaway from a raid on our home. I don¡¯t say this a lot, but¡­ Fuck, I¡¯m scared, Seamus.¡±

    He stopped his walk there, eyes moving to the young guardswoman. She still avoided eye contact, her head turned away as she bit her thumbnail.

    ¡°Kate, we¡¯re going to be fine,¡± Seamus said.

    ¡°How can you be so calm?¡± Kate shot back. She faced him fully, brow creased with worry. Seamus was surprised to find something within the woman¡¯s eyes, something he hadn¡¯t seen since their first encounter. Fear.

    ¡°Kate¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just you either!¡± she interrupted. ¡°It¡¯s Dirk, Elaine, and hel, even Helen of all people. You¡¯re all so calm, so carefree like we¡¯re not on the verge of dying horribly to orcs!¡± Kate waved to the wall they were walking by, the top of which was covered in barbed wire. ¡°And who''s to say that this will be enough? That we¡¯ll be enough? What do we do if they get past our walls?¡±

    Seamus watched Kate, silent as he allowed her to vent her frustrations.

    ¡°What do we do, Seamus?¡± she asked after a moment, her hands squeezing his tightly. ¡°What do we do if it¡¯s not enough?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± Seamus hesitated, his mind racing to find what to say. He wanted to comfort her fears and tell her it¡¯ll all be alright. Yet he didn¡¯t. Instead, he thought of a moment from his past, when he had been paralyzed by the same fears.

    ¡°If I¡¯m being honest,¡± Seamus admitted. ¡°I¡¯m terrified. Terrified of our defenses not being enough. Scared that the ones I care for are going to die. Hel, I¡¯m petrified at the idea of fighting.¡± He squeezed her hands back, his eyes looking into hers. ¡°But I¡¯m not going to run. I won¡¯t hide, either. Because the last time I did that, I lost everything.¡±

    Kate blinked, her eyes widening as his words hit her. ¡°You mean back during the Halvorson Raid? You survived, didn¡¯t you? You lived through that.¡±

    ¡°I may have survived, but¡­¡± Seamus hesitated. ¡°I¡¯d do anything to go back to that night. To try and help. To fight.¡±

    ¡°Even if it meant you would die?¡± Kate asked softly.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather that than live with the demons that haunt my dreams,¡± Seamus answered in a murmur. ¡°Because there are worse things than death, Kate. I can promise you this.¡±

    Kate did not answer. Instead, she was silent for a very, very long moment. Just as Seamus suspected that she¡¯d go off to sulk, she quickly leaned into his hold. Without warning, her lips pressed against his, and her hands moved to pull his shoulders. Seamus was frozen momentarily, heart thumping as he flushed with heat.

    After a quick, blissful second, she broke the kiss with a whisper. ¡°Is it horrible to say I¡¯m happy you were a coward then? If only that, if you never hid, I would have never met you?¡±

    ¡°Only a little,¡± Seamus managed, breathing hot as he stared into those beautiful green eyes. His ears grew hotter then, his flushed cheeks stinging as a cold breeze washed over the couple.

    ¡°Well¡­ I apologize,¡± Kate murmured. She pulled him in again for another kiss, and this time, Seamus was prepared.

 B.4 Chapter 47: Confrontation

    James stalked through the halls, hands clenched into fists as thoughts raced through his head. Jarl Villtur, Gryff¡¯s words, the realization that he had been played.

    ¡®No, I don¡¯t know that. I can¡¯t just trust everything Gryff says.¡¯

    Yet what else could he do? There was something clearly off about Villtur. The only problem was James couldn¡¯t prove that the Jarl had ulterior motives. Lukas had saved James, gave him refuge, and nursed him back to full health. It was possible that he had done so out of the pact¡¯s requirements¡ªJames did specify that the other Jarls were required to assist him if things got dire. Still, to what extent did the pact really affect?

    ¡®I have to find out for sure. I need to find out for sure.¡¯

    James stopped midway through his walk, his body tensing as he recalled Naomi¡¯s involvement in this. Was she, too, a part of Villtur¡¯s schemes? Or was she also a pawn? James clutched at the side of his head, a headache coming on as he furiously thought of the possibilities.

    ¡®James,¡¯ Faust spoke, his voice reverberating throughout the young Jarl¡¯s mind. While he wasn¡¯t present in James¡¯ meeting with the dead knight, James did recap the events for him. ¡®We have to take this one step at a time. There is a very good chance that Gryff is vying to manipulate you into this. He has no reason to help, regardless of what he claims. On the other hand, if Villtur really intends to break our pact, then we must ensure that he does not suspect us of finding out. Things could get ugly.¡¯

    James nodded slowly.

    ¡®Right, thanks.¡¯

    This was a delicate matter. If Gryff was wrong and James acted upon his lies, things would fall apart into chaos. So, with a deep breath, James calmed himself and steeled his nerves. He turned to the end of the hall he had arrived at. It looked daunting with the lack of magical spell crystals, which had been plastered on every inch of this Keep.

    James walked down the hall, which lacked guards or security measures. He could sense the vibrations of magical interference, a feeling he couldn¡¯t fathom where it came from, coming from beyond the door. Outside of that, the hall was dead silent.

    He stopped right outside the entrance, his hands still balled into fists and his brow covered in sweat. After a second of contemplation, he opened it.

    <hr>

    Lukas Villtur looked out the window of his study, his spine straight and his arms neatly folded behind him. He had dismissed his personal guards for the week, allowing himself to brew internally without their distracting presence. Everything was falling into place, just as Emma had insisted. All that was left was Holter¡¯s trust.

    That was easier said than done, however. James was already naturally distrustful of the Jarl, even before his full recovery. Regaining those memories did not ease that distrust at all.

    Lukas needed to try another route to gain the man¡¯s trust, outside of helping recover his home from those damned orcs. Despite the good will from his proposed plan, Lukas knew better than to expect the other Jarl to take it at face value. His ¡®good intentions¡¯ were sure to reek of betrayal to Holter despite Lukas¡¯ genuineness.

    As he contemplated the troublesome situation, the door clicked behind him. Lukas turned around sharply, only to see the door close behind a certain Outlander.

    <hr>

    James stared at the lone figure in the compact library, their guards exempt from their side.

    Emma Villtur was reading some thick tome, its leather aged with years of dust and wrinkles. The pages were yellowed and flung dust with every turn the young woman made. She didn¡¯t even notice the door closing behind her.

    ¡®Are you sure about this?¡¯ Faust asked softly.

    ¡®I know what I saw. What I felt,¡¯ James responded mentally. He thought back to the days leading up to his recovery, specifically the first few. Back when Emma Villtur was his caretaker. Back then, before he had his memories, he couldn¡¯t recognize the air of familiarity about her. The soothing voice and that¡­ strange aura.

    He had doubts at first but soon managed to brush those aside during his last meeting with her. Emma was related to Iendis. As a Herald or Avatar, James didn¡¯t know. But he was sure of their connection. There was no denying that feeling of unnatural calmness.

    Even now, he felt it emanating from her. It stilled his beating heart, normalized his breathing, and dampened all emotion within him. Now that he knew what to look for, the effects were glaringly obvious to him.

    James took a step toward Emma, repeating the questions that bounced around his skull. There were so many things to ask and confront, but only one of them seemed to be the most important. So he settled for that one.

    <hr>

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Lukas asked Naomi. She closed the door behind her quiet steps, her body slouched in a perpetual stalk. She always seemed to glide and sneak around the Keep, as if she mistrusted every corner and shadow here.

    ¡°Have you seen James?¡± she asked, her lone eye glaring at Lukas. The Jarl shifted uncomfortably, his focus moving to her bandaged socket. As much as she assured him that the demonic eye was under control, Lukas had his doubts. Still, he had given his word to help her in her endeavors in return for help in James¡¯ situation.

    ¡°He went to visit that necromancer of his,¡± Lukas answered. He looked back at the window in front of him, his back tingling a little. His instincts never quite liked putting his back on Naomi. Her movements never made a sound.

    ¡°He¡¯s not there,¡± Naomi said.

    ¡°And?¡± Lukas raised an eyebrow. ¡°What bothers you?¡±

    Naomi was silent for a moment, the room filling with an uneasy air. Finally, she spoke her mind.

    ¡°I think he suspects you,¡± she muttered. ¡°He¡¯s been too reserved as of late. Too quiet.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s suffering from battle shock, is he not?¡± Lukas asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s something more than that,¡± Naomi said. ¡°I can feel it.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you came to me?¡± Lukas turned to the Outlander, who was now a few paces away from him. He nearly reacted out of instinct, his hand barely a few inches away from his side sword. She had moved in so close, all without making the slightest noise. ¡°He¡¯s not so rash as to come to me, battle shock or not.¡±

    ¡°Of course not,¡± Naomi murmured. It sounded like she was speaking more to herself rather than to the Jarl. Lukas stared at her, a sense of uneasiness twisting within. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t go for you. But¡­¡±

    Naomi¡¯s lone eye widened an inch, her head whipping toward Lukas. ¡°Where is Emma?¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°What?¡±

    Emma stared at James, clearly confused. Both of them stood in the midst of the library, the only sound being the echo of the woman¡¯s confused answer.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± James repeated. ¡°Really?¡±

    He watched carefully for a reaction, a telltale sign that she knew what he was talking about. Emma blinked a moment after his question, uncertainty in her expression. James stared at her in silence, almost judgingly.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re insinuating,¡± Emma muttered softly, deflecting the question. Then James saw it. Her eyes glanced away from his gaze, shame within them. She was hiding something. Just as he noticed this, a sense of distilled calmness hit him like a wave. It tried to wash away his uncertainty, his suspicion. But James held onto his convictions like a vise. He knew this woman was more than she seemed.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡®She¡¯s more than a caretaker. More than a Jarl¡¯s wife.¡¯

    James recalled what he had learned about the Villtur clan. He knew that they had tensions against Vulpesson that had only been eased when they married off their firstborn daughter to Jarl Villtur. For some reason, he figured there was more to it.

    ¡°You¡¯re Iendis¡¯ Herald,¡± James said, taking the risk. Heralds were supposedly representatives of their Gods. The title was given to anyone who shared lineage with them. While he had no definitive proof that this woman was a Herald, he gambled on the chance regardless. He put all his trust in his intuition.

    It paid off not long after, as Emma reacted to his accusation like cold water splashing upon her. She snapped her head toward him once more, her face going pale at first before turning red.

    ¡®Now, it¡¯s time to put my theory to the test.¡¯

    ¡°I have no idea¡ª¡±

    ¡°When I visited the Tree of Fates, I saw my deaths happen before my eyes,¡± James said suddenly, cutting her off. ¡°I saw Deimos crush my chest in, and wolves tear my body to shreds. I watched my friends die and cities burn. I was subjected to futures that I will never reach while also seeing those that could be.¡±

    As he said these words, James felt a sense of relief slowly flooding him. Bit by bit, with every truth that came out of his lips, his shoulders sagged a little less.

    ¡°I witnessed horrors done by my own hand. I¡¯ve seen the darkest versions of myself. I also saw the best of me, and a perfect future that would never come. These fates were all shown to me by Iendis, the Tree¡¯s caretaker. I have seen my own fate and have confronted it, all to only further chaos in an attempt to try and achieve the perfect future. I still blame myself for it.¡±

    By the end of it, his chest heaved with a breath that seemed to have been held deep inside for far too long. Emma stared at him, her eyes wide as her hand went over her mouth.

    ¡°Almost all of my fates ended with my death or the fall of my clan,¡± James muttered. ¡°The perfect future was one in which peace was achieved all across Valenfrost. I was forced to watch its blossom crumble to ash, my actions dooming it to obscurity. I experienced all of this and was never allowed to share it with anyone.¡±

    Silence followed his words. James¡¯ confession had gone on uninterrupted, and there was no ethereal influence stopping him from saying it. Finally, judging from Emma¡¯s reaction, she had heard it all.

    ¡®That confirms it,¡¯ Faust said softly. ¡®She¡¯s connected to Iendis.¡¯

    <hr>

    ¡°Where is my wife?¡± Lukas asked his guards, who were posted outside the Keep¡¯s rear.

    ¡°She asked for us to leave her at the library, my Jarl,¡± one of the men answered. ¡°She was looking to reference your book, the journal specifically.¡±

    ¡®Yorn¡¯s writings?¡¯ Lukas thought. ¡®What does she intend to look for within them?¡¯

    He almost got lost in his thoughts before realizing that Emma was on her own, with an unstable man like James on the loose and unaccounted for. He cursed under his breath and turned to Naomi, who was already heading inside. He followed right after her, keeping up in stride.

    ¡°He won¡¯t try anything rash,¡± Lukas said. ¡°James is rational enough not to outright threaten me.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s grieving and jumping at shadows,¡± Naomi growled. ¡°Rationale kind of jumps out the window at that point, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Lukas didn¡¯t respond right away. He took a moment to think, to try and put himself in Holter¡¯s mindset. It wasn¡¯t easy. The only person he considered close was Emma, and she was more or less a tool rather than a wife. Still, there was a sense of warmth to her. He had always gravitated toward the young woman, even before their appointed marriage.

    ¡®What would happen if you lost her?¡¯ a part of him asked. Lukas found himself disliking the idea of that, his recently buried anger bubble deep inside. He had to force it back down not long after, his fists tightening as he prayed to Freyja that Emma was perfectly safe.

    For he feared that he¡¯d lose control if Holter tried anything.

    <hr>

    ¡°I am not her Herald,¡± Emma said, her hands holding her book to her chest. She avoided eye contact with James, who had taken a few steps back to give her some breathing room. After his confession, both of them had stayed silent for an uncomfortably long time. It was only just now that she had decided to speak.

    ¡°Then what are you?¡± James asked. ¡°Avatar? Descendent?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Emma responded a little sharply this time. ¡°I¡¯m none of those!¡±

    ¡°So what is then?¡± James pressed. ¡°Because you know something about me. You know my fates, that¡¯s for damn sure. Did she send you? Was this her plan all along?¡±

    ¡°I am not affiliated with her!¡± Emma said in an outburst. Her brow focused, and her lips curled into a deep frown. ¡°I¡¯d rather die than further whatever cursed plans she has in store!¡±

    James blinked at that, unsure of how to respond. Emma huffed as she shook, her hands wavering as she sat down. She took a deep breath, calming herself slowly. Finally, she spoke.

    ¡°I am a descendant of the original caretakers of Fate,¡± Emma said in a quiet voice. ¡°The ones who were in charge of the Tree of Fate before Bartholomew ascended and became a god. I am the last of their line who could conjure visions of the Fate Blossoms. Depending on who I touch, of course.¡±

    James had no words. He just stared at Emma, who looked back with a determined look. She wasn¡¯t lying to him. There was a conviction in those eyes, which was all James needed.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re a fortune teller of sorts?¡± James asked slowly.

    ¡°I¡¯m an Oracle,¡± Emma said. ¡°One of few actually. Last I heard, there were only three of us left. One in Azurvale and the other in Kasan.¡±

    ¡°So you have no connection with Iendis?¡± James asked.

    ¡°No,¡± Emma revealed. ¡°At least, not really. Iendis is a¡­ strange case. From the stories passed down to me, her role was forced upon her a millennium ago. The Tree of Fate is more of a prison.¡±

    That explained why Iendis was chained to the tree. Now that James thought of it, he recalled how, despite her movements and wandering, her binds had never loosened against her. It was an ironic punishment to put the daughter of chaos itself in charge of a tree that dictated fates.

    ¡°You mentioned Bartholomew?¡± James muttered. ¡°He¡¯s the one the Wishing Shrine is named after, right? What do you mean he ascended?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± Emma asked, genuinely surprised. ¡°Bartholomew was the one who had made the first wish. The reason behind our modern calendar. He had wished to become a deity, and so he ascended into the responsibility of the God of Fate.¡±

    James didn¡¯t know what to say to that. Surprise was the first thing that hit him, as he hadn¡¯t really bothered to learn much about the shrine itself.

    ¡®Focus, James,¡¯ Faust said. ¡®We came here for a reason.¡¯

    James nodded at that, his focus returning to Emma once again. She sat nervously in one of the library¡¯s chairs, her hands still clutching that book of hers. She glanced at James every now and then, but her main focus seemed to be on the door to the room.

    ¡®She¡¯s waiting for someone. Lukas most likely. I gotta hurry.¡¯

    ¡°Sorry to cut our enlightening topic short, but I came here for a reason. What is Lukas up to?¡± James asked as he stepped up to Emma. He needed to be upfront with her now. Mainly because time was running out and partly because she had been honest with him.

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Emma asked, her tone coming off as defensive. She narrowed her brow at him. James took note of that and decided he would have to try his hardest not to antagonize her husband.

    ¡°I know he¡¯s planning something,¡± James said slowly, doing his best not to come off as confrontational. ¡°That I¡¯m playing into something he¡¯s been setting up.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s helping you, and the first thing you assume is that he¡¯s stringing you along?¡± Emma scoffed.

    James clenched his jaw. He almost wanted to say something biting but held himself back. ¡°There¡¯s something more to this. I know this. You know this. He needs something from me, doesn¡¯t he? That¡¯s why he had you take care of me for the first week. You were checking my fates, weren¡¯t you?¡±

    That was one of his newer working theories. Emma had just said she could peer into people¡¯s fates, so it wouldn¡¯t be far-fetched to say that Lukas had pushed her to look at James¡¯. The problem with that, however¡­

    ¡°You can¡¯t tell him what you see, can you?¡± James asked. ¡°Just like how I can¡¯t tell anyone what I see. So you drop him hints. You insinuate what he needs to do. Helping me retake Yorktown guides him along the right path, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    By this point, Emma¡¯s nervous fidgeting had grown obvious. She shifted in her seat, her grip tightening on the leather-bound tome. She avoided eye contact, leaving James to confirm his suspicions about her.

    ¡°I see,¡± he murmured. ¡°So you guys have found a way to break the pact.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Emma stopped, her body going still. ¡°Break the pact?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what he¡¯s trying to do, isn¡¯t he?¡± James said. ¡°Lukas wants to break our pact and take over both mine and Ivan¡¯s territory.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ horribly wrong,¡± Emma responded with clear confusion. ¡°We were never going to break our pact with you.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± James blinked at that. ¡°Then what¡ª¡±

    The door to the library was swung open, revealing two new figures. James turned, a sinking feeling in his chest as he saw both Lukas and Naomi standing by the doorway.

    ¡°Ah¡­ shit.¡±