Land of Mirriam

Trundle’s spear was heavy, sturdy to the fact that it wouldn’t vibrate that much whenever he hits another weapon. The heavy pierces and swings were sure to wound any man it hit... but that was an if.

“I see… that was a good angle, didn’t see that,” Simon said as he deflected another piercing attack from the armored enemy.

Trundle was sweating… he was starting to breathe really hard. The armor, the spear… the weight of himself all slugging his muscles. From the moment he knew how to fight, how to hold a spear, he knew he was out of the norm, he would allow his enemies to strike first, akin to getting a first taste. He was confident of his skill, power and ability.

The in front of him was out of the norm too, that’s why he wasn't even fighting back.

“Shit!!!” his spear slipped and flew away… it dropped to the ground. “Hmm…” the boy was in front of him, and whatever the boy did, he wouldn’t be able to do anything. He tried to run, but for some reason, his feet remained planted in the ground.

The boy’s steps sounded terrifying to him. Trundle knelt firm, ready to lose some limbs, but the boy just passed. Upon reaching the spear that slipped he kicked it back to Trundle.

“How about you remove your armor… it will make you fight faster… the mud just makes it heavier to move,” a suggestion from the boy, the boy was not mocking him.

“If you're going to kill me, just kill me already… you're stronger, just kill me,” Trundle said. It seemed that he had finally given up.

“You have the scent of a murderer…” Simon spoke in an intimidating way. “When you commit it, didn’t they struggle? Don’t give up… struggle.”

Trundle opened his eyes widely. He started removing his armor. He had been a coward all his life. The battle to the death was just an excuse. He could have chosen more powerful enemies. Hell, he could have just gone to a deeper level of dungeons but he didn’t.

“Whenever I kill, I make sure they have the chance to struggle… or make it painless,” Simon said. He learned it from the old man. “But thieves… slay them like animals…” It was a cold additional comment.

“So I would not survive? Why are you dragging this out?” Trundle asked.

“I would like to see the totality of your skills with the spear. I want to beat someone who uses a spear,” Simon answered truthfully.

“Practice, eh?” Trundle was ready now. Only wearing his clothes, no armor. He would at least show everything he had. He felt his heartbeat, blood boiling into his muscles… he was still evolving, if he won the fight then it would be a breakthrough. He psyched himself up, ready to trade limbs for his life.

He had never felt as much clarity had he ever had. He focused and looked at the boy, but all of his pumping up disappeared… as he noticed Simon’s eyes… it was closed.

<--->

The soldiers shot arrows to maim the thieves that were escaping, finishing them off as they passed. The noble commanding them demanded that they leave no one they reach alive.

The escaping thieves went in a different direction. Their leader must have been dead already. Some of the thieves threw their weapons on the ground, but the soldiers still killed some for more examples.

Loud clangs of metal were heard. The soldiers instantly realized what it was: there was still a battle going on ahead.

After a few more steps, they saw a half-naked man and a boy duking it out. The boy calmly parried and dodged the man’s attacks.

“Hmm… you're getting better…” the boy spoke. The naked man was sweating profusely. “AARGH!!!” he screamed, giving it his all, but he was slowing down. There was a serene look on his face, even as he screamed his lungs out.

Simon didn't need words; they spoke clearly with their weapons. “I see… thanks for the lesson,” the boy said.

In one slash, the spear broke into two, and the boy conjured a water blade with some kind of magic. The man’s head cleanly lifted off, and the blood didn’t spurt until after the body touched the ground.

The act inspired fear and terror in those who watched, but to the noble, it was both amazing and awful.

The large northerner approached the boy “Simon!? Why do you look so disappointed?” Percival asked.

“Is it over now?” Simon asked. The noble who arrived immediately approached them.

“Wait... not yet. The Bloody Axe bandit group is still out there! I implore you to help us. I will offer you generous rewards!!” The noble appeared distraught, his tone neither demanding nor bossy.

“You led the soldiers in defense... good job. Can you provide more details?” Percival inquired, seeking further information.

“They've been plundering the main road for the past few hours, emerging from the hills to the north,” the noble responded, having witnessed the events firsthand. He glanced at the burning storage house a few kilometers away.

The northern hills lie directly south of the Elford’s castle. The queen must have spotted the smoke. The attack occurred at a time when the kingdom couldn’t deploy troops. Something is at play here, Percival pondered.

“This one was wearing knight's armor, despite not being accustomed to fighting in it,” Simon added, contributing more details.

“The leader wore a ragged cloak over a quality armor. Some among them aren't typical bandits,” Percival observed, directing his gaze at the noble, who had no immediate explanation.

“I beseech you. I, Peron Wiseman, stake my name on rewarding you generously,” the noble said, even kneeling down in earnest.

“We will do what we can... The new generation is quite different, isn't it?” Percival remarked, noting the noble, half his age, kneeling before them.

“I’m actually from the central. My brother and I were sent here to extend our reach into the eastern frontier,” the noble disclosed quietly.

“I see... that’s good. Then we will be going now,” Percival said.

“Wait, can at least one of you stay here? My brother was supposed to provide support, but he is late... Please, stay until they arrive,” the noble pleaded. His reasoning was logical; there were still many bandits around, including some elite ones.

Knights are generally considered stronger than soldiers. Soldiers are typically conscripted farmers or young adults, not accustomed to fighting, though they undergo basic training. Despite the danger, these soldiers would still join in due to the benefits.

“You should make a perimeter... Simon, I know you're eager to go, but please stay here. You're on guard duty,” Percival ordered. The noble nodded, having witnessed what the boy was capable of, even with his eyes closed.

<--->

Percival, an expert hunter, was among the scouts patrolling the northern walls. Despite his slow pace, he moved silently; not even the birds in the trees took notice of him.

It was almost nightfall, the sky transitioning into hues of deep purple and dusky orange. Percival's steps were deliberate, his senses attuned to the subtle shift in the air as darkness crept closer. As he moved, the flicker of torches illuminated the surroundings, casting dancing shadows across the forest floor. Each glimmer of light served as a beacon, guiding Percival's path forward while also revealing the presence of the bandits. His eyes scanned the area, noting their movements and positioning with keen observation. Every detail mattered in the approaching night, and Percival remained ever vigilant, prepared for whatever challenges lay ahead.

“Hmm... that's a good idea,” Percival thought. He observed that the sentries were strategically positioned to maintain sight of their comrades' lights, even in the darkness of night. They served as a barrier to alert others.

Percival never grew complacent. Though he trusted his comrades, he remained cautious. After all, attacking in the dark presented far fewer obstacles.

He began to move, plotting his path of attack. Unlike previous missions where he had a partner, he was now alone. Without someone watching his back, encountering a formidable opponent would put him at a significant disadvantage.

“250… no, 300 feet,” he muttered, gauging the distance to each sentry. A flicker of light marked the boundary of their watchful gaze. If any light were to extinguish, it would set off a chain reaction of alarms. With practiced stealth, he closed the gap, drawing nearer with each silent step.

Arriving behind his first target, he surveyed the shadowy hills, their dense foliage offering ample cover for his approach. Gripping his axe firmly, he prepared to strike with swift and precise movements.

He has to do it without dropping the light.

<--->

He harbored an intense hatred towards his brother, so deep that he was willing to betray the empire just for a chance to settle the score. For years, he had regarded his brother as nothing but a rival.

However, when his brother volunteered to accompany him into the eastern frontier, he was met with an expression he could never forget. It was one of pity... If his brother truly wished to avoid conflict, why had he agreed to join him?

This realization only fueled his resentment further, driving him to follow the orders of the Blood Axe commander. He had dispatched one of his men to lead the bandit group in the hills, orchestrating a surprise attack on the storage house.

As the night fell, the smoke began to dissipate into the darkness. He found himself wishing that his brother had been caught in the blaze along with the storage house. Despite his intense hatred for his brother, he couldn't muster the courage to end his life—he was a coward.

For some reason, he felt a surge of anger, tightening his grip on his sword. The next phase of the plan was to assert total control over the economy and information flow in the eastern frontier. However, a significant problem arose: the raiding party that had been targeting the main road had vanished. This meant that the flow of carriages, carts, goods, and information would continue uninterrupted.

Furthermore, there was the debacle of the failed attack on the second storage house.

“Good job on the attack... how about the main road?” It was the leader of the Bloody Axe approaching from behind, the two of them watched from the hills.

Unlike his family members, Sebas would appreciate anything that he did. “I really don’t care about that…” Like a madman, he spoke.

Sebas just smiled; he knew what was happening since he had all ears around.

The noble was useful in getting more inside information. Without him, they couldn’t have the information about the layout of the guards and the number of troops in the storage houses.

This is why the 1st storage house immediately collapsed. Unfortunately, the brother of the noble was a much more capable defender. As far as Sebas remembered and understood, during this time, the traitorous brother should send reinforcements led by himself.

“We will have to make some changes to the plan. We will execute a pincer attack: you go from behind, and I’ll lead the charge forward,” Sebas said, tapping the shoulder of the noble. “I will get your brother, don’t worry.”

“Stop messing with me!! Your plan failed!” the noble slapped his hand away.

“That is why we are here. We will attack, all of us, with you by our side. We will win, 100% chance,” Sebas said to assure and boost the confidence of the noble, who glared at him.

“I will lead the attack. Just match me. They will never expect us. We will strike when the night becomes darker!!!” the noble commanded, asserting himself as the leader.

Sebas simply nodded, knowing how to handle this type of noble. He looked at the soldiers who were supposed to be reinforcements; they didn’t know what was happening. It was a bliss of innocence. They would be fighting tonight against one of their own.

Some of the escaped bandits reported to him that there was a monster in there. The noble who would lead the charge would be perfect bait to check out what kind of monster it was.

Sebas surveyed the land of wheat and corn. It would provide effective cover to hide their approach.

<--->

“ATTACK!!!” x3 was a scream followed by a rapid ringing of the bell. The captain of the soldiers guarding the 2nd storage house woke up unexpectedly. Peron thought at first that it was the reinforcements, but he was sure he heard the word ‘Attack.’

The storage house had a sturdy wall, so he rushed out of his quarters. Rather than his own, the next storage house was under attack.

It only took him a few minutes to guess what was happening. There was a route on the east side. The nobles of the frontier had one thing in common: they would never help each other. That's why he devised a plan. The route was cleared by none other than him and his brother. His brother was the only one he considered a comrade. It was behind the cornfields. Only the two of them knew about it, created so they could help each other in times of need.

He slammed his fist against the walls.

Betrayed by his own brother. But why? He had helped him and cleaned up after him.

Another bell rang, this time from a different direction. Another attack on their side. If the storage house behind them fell, it would be a pincer attack.

He truly underestimated the bandits. He heard a step behind him. It was the boy that the bigger guy left. “Can you hold the front?” the boy asked. Wasn’t he thinking of slaying one side?

“I…” Although his brother had betrayed him, he couldn’t kill him. He would have to choose. “I'll take care of the ones behind us. We'll reinforce the next storage house,” Peron said, swallowing hard. The boy was a killer; he could see it in his eyes. He noticed that the boy’s eyes were closed… well, the dark wouldn’t hinder someone without sight, right?

The boy just nodded and left.