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Chapter 165: War Prince (3)
🕑 Added 2025-02-14 02:28:51 +0000 UTCWorld: MSS - Loading...
***
“Wait,” Zenom called out.
Naturally, everyone looked to Jared. To see if he would wait.
Jared waved his hand, “Go on, Zenom.” He said dryly.
“Turinan Law dictates that they get three days to prepare. Both the Challenger and Challenged. As well as a discussion between the Seconds.”
“Here and now,” Jared replied. “But I will allow the Challenger five minutes to recess.” He looked to Kariyo. “I assume my Knight will be needing a new set of armor as well.”
The moment he said those words, a pair of insect knights appeared from nowhere, carrying a brand new set of armor.
“If that is your wish, War Prince.” Kariyo replied, sheathing his sword. He walked to the knights and began stripping, ready to don the brand new suit of armor.
“As for to the matter of Seconds, do what you will.” Jared waved his hand again. “And Zenom, you will be the Judge of this duel.”
“...I accept.” Zenom said through gritted teeth. Then he faded into the crowd, his cape following.
I tightened the straps on my boots, making sure they were on tight. Looking across from me, I saw Kariyo change into a brand new set of armor.
Footsteps told me that multiple people were approaching me.
“Slaveborn,” Borealis stopped just an inch shy of my striking distance. Not that I wanted to strike him, but my body was on high-alert, every sense careening forward in anticipation of battle. “Let me offer you my services as your second.”
“A Second?”
“A Second.” Borealis nodded, “Someone in your corner. Someone who’ll avenge you, in case they attempt some sort of trickery. Your shield against foul play.”
I nodded easily, doubting I’d need it. From what I’d seen of Kariyo, he didn’t seem like the type to try underhanded tactics. After all, the reputation of the Turinan Knights that I’d heard so far was far from trickery. Then again, I might have looser definitions of what counted as ‘underhanded’. My fighting-style was learned on the streets of Samak, against other Slaves and then loosely fixed by Arrosh.
This concept of Knight’s honor might be far from what I was used to.
Hell, I’d be lucky if Kariyo’s second didn’t interfere.
Looking over, I measure up Kariyo’s own second. Now that I was familiar with the concept, I identified his Second as the person helping Kariyo put on his armor. They were armored, however, I couldn’t see their face.
“So you accept?” Borealis said.
I was about to answer when someone else chimed in.
“No, Human Knight,” Skaris took long steps, leading the rest of my party to where I was. “It musssssst be me.”
Borealis replied smoothly, “In normal circumstances, I would agree. But this isn’t normal. He is against a Turinan Knight. Someone from the Akka Xalud, no less. You are a skilled warrior, but I doubt you are familiar with some of the tricks-”
“Sir Borealis,” Kyrian leaned on his staff. “I apologize. But,” He paused, before speaking to the Vetilius Scion, the equivalent of Turina Royalty. So high above the social ladder even to someone like Kyrian, a minor noble himself, that he wouldn’t dare talk to him face to face in any other situation. “That wasn’t a request.”
Borealis pursed his lips.
“Why not Aurora then?” Borealis said, giving her a measured look.
“Coin Toss!” Stole said cheerfully.
“Coin… Toss?” Borealis sounded incredulous. “This is an honorable duel. Against a Turinan Knight. Even Slaveborn will have trouble. And you bet his life on a coin toss?”
“Yup!”
Aurora didn’t quite sigh, but it was close. “It is our way, Borealis.”
“...You agreed to this foolishness?”
“It is not foolisssshnesssss.” Skaris said, but Aurora ignored him and answered Borealis.
“Yes.” Aurora said, each of her words careful and exact.
Borealis stared at her for a moment longer. “You’ve changed, Aurora Candrian Vetilian.”
A moment passed between them. Not quite intense. I’d describe it as deep, somehow. More than just eye-contact, more than just the words that Borealis spoke. Of course, they came from the family. There was history there. Family always had history. And those who weren’t in it weren’t privy to the secret messages that a single look or seemingly innocent words could carry.
So why was it that Borealis was the one who looked like an outsider? That his Turinan Armor, his Vetilius features –the grayish hair, the well-sculptured face– looked so different from Aurora’s own? That Aurora who shared his looks came off as a completely different person? The mannerisms, the posture and the distinctly human-designed armor… even though they shared all those things, they seemed to be looking at different things?
Gods, when had Aurora become such an Adventurer instead of a Knight?
‘Not the time.’ I told myself and went back to tightening the laces on my boots.
“Then I leave Slaveborn in your capable hands.” Borealis cleared his throat. “May I give one advice?”
“We will gladly accept.” Aurora answered in my stead.
“Don’t forget the Akka Xalud rule of Threes. Then if you will excuse me.” Borealis walked off.
When Borealis was out of earshot, Skaris bent down. “Nonssssensssse.” His eyes gleamed, “Thisss issss death. Do not complicate your thoughtsssss, Ssssslaveborn. Sssssimply sssswing your ssssword and all will be well.”
“...Thanks Skaris.” I said, finally finishing and moving to the other boot.
Before I could do so however, Aurora bent down and began tying it for me.
“Mr. Lock, the rule of Three is a fighting style taught in the Akka Xalud Schools; which runs parallel to the Vetilius and Kojisa schools.”
“So each Great House has their own Schools?”
“Not just the Great Houses, but even the smaller noble houses. It’s not limited to those with the Great House name, but every school accepts students as long as they have enough talent. Otherwise, the Knight ranks would make for poor showing.” Kyrian said.
“We can discuss Turinan Battle School History and Culture at a later time,” Aurora’s voice was hushed, hurried somehow. “The Rule of Three. The Hand, the Hand that lies Behind and the Dagger in the Back.”
“What?”
“That is how the Akka Xaluds fight. They will come at you with flair, something that is obvious. A big tell. But behind that will be another plan.” Aurora spoke quickly, “but that is not the only thing you must watch out for. For the true danger lies in the Dagger in the back, one hidden behind what they hide.”
“So be careful?” I said jokingly.
Aurora looked up, her practiced hands finishing the laces on my leather boot faster than I could have done on my own.
And I noticed that her hands were trembling.
“The Akka Xaluds are true Warriors.” Aurora said, “They are the vanguard of the Royal Family’s forces and for good reason. They are famous for their ruthless tactics, cunning and the teeth-gritting perseverance that has gained them the reputation as War Mongers. More Akka Xalud Scions have attained the title of War Prince than every single Vetilius and Kojisa combined.”
“You’re scared.” I said in realization.
“They are a brutal family, Mr. Lock.” She closed her eyes, gathering her hands and stopping them from shaking. “Just know that as many times as you have escaped death, they’ve done it a hundred more times. Each of their Knights have already gone through hell and back. It is rumored that the Akka Xalud Scions only earn their name after having killed-”
“Slaveborn, are you ready?” Zenom, who had agreed to referee the fight, called out.
Aurora bit her lip, her eyes searching mine. “The Rule of Three, Mr. Lock.” She gave one tug on my boots, making sure they wouldn’t come off. “The Hand, the Hand Behind and the Dagger in the Back.”
“Understood.” I stood up.
“...I wassss the Ssssecond.” Skaris complained.
“You’re not nervous even a little bit, are you Skaris?” Kyrian’s worried face broke into a smile. Just for a second, but it was there.
“Why?” Skaris’ eyes glittered with genuine joy. “Sssslaveborn will win.”
I gave him a look. “And if I don’t?”
Skaris didn’t answer.
“...I jest.” And I walked off.
It was only when they thought I was out of earshot that Skaris answered.
“...Then I ssshall burn everything.”
It worried me that none of my party members said anything otherwise.
***
Nervous adrenaline broke into thousands of lightning bolts, springing from the soles of my feet to my fingertips.
I took a breath.
Then another.
And another.
I stared at Kariyo, my enermy before me.
No, not enermy.
My victim.
‘You can win. You can do this.’ I spoke to the whispering doubts.
His armor was light, not as light as mine but not as heavy as Borealis or Aurora’s. Judging by his movements, he wasn’t a light-weight. Everything about him screamed somewhere in between an pure blader and a tank. Most likely a Bruiser-type build.
His two Beetles circled overhead, making loud buzzes to further distract me.
A summoner-type like Dorocian, but who used them for support.
Kariyo’s sword was curved in waves. No longer than two palms. Not too long, not too short. Designed both grappling and parrying. A Kris-type blade, if I recalled correctly. While on the memory-lane, I mentally recalled any of the hundreds of blade that the Kris could be. It’d be impossible to narrow it down, but there as a common functionality to all of them.
Inflicting Statuses. Poison, Burn, Necrosis. The whole lot.
A bruiser-build that used summons as support, while he himself whittled me down with status ailments.
I saw him studying me, the way I was studying him.
Zenom stood in front of Kariyo, whispering. Kariyo gave him a curt shake of his head. Nodding, Zenom walked over to me.
“Slaveborn.”
“Zenom.” I said.
The coldness of my voice struck Zenom like a punch and he stopped in his tracks.
“I was going to ask if there was another way.” The handsome knight stared straight into my eyes. “But now I see that it’s useless.”
I didn’t bother answering that.
“If you lose, he will kill your Party. Your friends. Your comrades.”
Again, I didn’t answer.
“You are risking their lives for nothing.” Zenom hissed.
My eyes were locked on Kariyo’s and his on mine. I could imagine that he knew what we were talking about.
“Slaveborn, think.” Zenom continued, “Even if you win, what then? The War Prince will not let this go. He will hound you, making it his mission to make you miserable. He has the resources and the political power to do it. He might not have the official title of War Prince, but he still has allies. Friends.”
“Do not do this.” He pleaded.
I drew my sword.
A single snowflake fell.
“...Slaveborn.” Zenom’s eyes wavered. “Why? Atleast tell me, why. Don’t I deserve that much?”
Finally, I tore my eyes away from Kariyo, giving my attention to the Knight.
He took this as a sign of weakness. That his words had gotten through to me. Wiggle room to talk me out of this.
“It’s not worth it, Slaveborn. Those people-” Zenom started again, “-they… They cannot survive this. Win or lose. You do not understand the repercussions of your actions right now. If you apologize to the War Prince, I can remediate on your behalf. Please, rethink this.”
“...Rethink it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Zenom’s voice was infected with something I’d never heard from the man before. “Because you are declaring War.”
Zenom Saintred.
The Holy Knight.
To him, my actions didn’t make sense.
I could go into a long-winded discussion with Zenom about why I had to do what I did. Why his doctrine, his philosophy, his way of life was the reason why I was doing this.
“You are starting a war over a few lives. You could save thousands more, but only if you let go now. Retreat, gather your strength. There is a better day to fight for your ideals.”
He claimed to know my ideals.
“Zenom?”
“Yes?”
“I will fight.”
“...You have no reason to fight.”
I looked past Zenom.
At the shield that Doror made for me. The little girl who’d stolen [Snow Scream], Doror’s granddaughter clinging to his leg. Fluporuin looking worried next to Doror. The dwarf smith who was smitten with the beastwoman sailor. The beastman sailor whom I’d scared only hours ago. The orc cook with his stained aprons. The elven mage from the auxiliary forces.
They had no champion. No brave selfless orc warrior to die for them. To stand up for them.
Yet… their eyes were far from downcast. Like, like they believed something was going to happen and everything was going to be ok.
I realized they were looking at me.
At me.
“I do have a reason.” I said softly.
“What reason? This is madness.”
I pointed behind him.
Zenom looked.
He froze, at a loss for what to say.
Another bout of silence passed.
“Is that truly worth your life? The life of your comrades?” Zenom whispered, but the fervor had drained out of it. “You will die, Slaveborn.”
“...I can’t think of anything else worth dying for.” I replied.
Gone was Han, the man from Earth.
And I, Lock Slaveborn, remained.
Zenom’s mouth hung open like I’d punched him. Don’t ask me how I knew this but something broke inside of Zenom in that moment. Something fragile, something that mattered. I don’t know what and right now, I didn’t have room to care.
I walked past him.
It was time.
Kariyo swung the Kris Sword, making strange singing sounds as it cut through the air.
I did the same with my own sword, a faint humming sound lacerating the deadened tension that hung between us like a willow tree.
“I will cut out your tongue, I will torture your woman and I will personally strip that lizard’s skin.” Kariyo said, his voice muffled through the Akka Xalud insectoid helm. “And your pet wolf will be sold as a Slave to Sex Traders of the East.”
I dug into my heels as I’d seen Aurora done so many times. My mana cycled through my veins, arteries and through the air I breathed; Kyrian had taught that to me. Separating my consciousness into two, I put weight between my hearing and smell. A small trick that I saw Stole use countless times.
And like Skaris had done, but not quite as dramatic, I goaded him.
“Come at me... Bug Knight.”
His eyebrow twitched. That was all he gave for my insult.
I'll take it.
And finally, I saluted him, bringing the hilt to my forehead.
Arrosh’s Salute of the Sword Saint.
From somewhere far, a breeze carried a whisper to me.
“Fly, Young Crow.”
…
"BEGIN!"
Comments
Donovan Helx
Reading your novel is like a cigarette, it feels good til there’s no more before you keep wanting more. Thank you author for this absolutely banger
Logan Williams
I keep rereading this I can’t freakin wait
