May 25, 2013
Written By RahXephon [847246]


The Zerg Triumvirate

VI – Digesting


Rygel of Steepwood had learned one important lesson about the influence he allowed to settle inside his body. The Zerg did not take any consideration for the sanctity of the dead. The right and proper way to treat the corpses of good, honest men was to take them back to a place of civilization and cremate their shells so that the Ravagers of the wild could never bite and tear at them. All men were born of the flesh of the Goddess Lamarantia, and it was only proper to return the purified remains back into the soil.

Instead, his mistress the Goddess of Hunger commanded him to deny his fellow villagers the right to return to the bosom of the Earth Goddess. Through his own alien body, she urged him to satisfy his new craving and take their flesh for himself. As he would come to learn many times over, the Zerg did not see people. They saw biomass. And the more biological matter they consumed, the better, for the Swarm was always hungry.

In his detached vision of watching himself gorge, he noted several curious things. First was that he was able to imbibe in many bodies without visibly growing his form. Though he did eventually grow heavy enough to make indentations on the grassy surface below his feet, he should have sunk right in by the time he got to the last corpse. 'Conversion to bioenergy.' A small part of himself muttered, and he took it as granted, not knowing much about the strength surge of strength that accompanied him each time he successfully finished off a meal.

A second and more important occurrence happened when he came upon the body of the fallen knight. Sir Deacon's flesh tasted different. It was not a matter of flavor, but more about.. nutrition, for a lack of better words. Rygel craved bodies like Deacon's more than the bodies of his fellow commoners. There was a strange exotic twang to his essence that introducing something new inside his own body. 'The Blessed have power, power which I am stealing.'

He couldn't decide whether to be glad about that fact or not. To steal from the Gods was sacrilege in one of the worst forms. Yet did he not already curse Zorandar's name for failing him in his greatest need? 'I serve the Goddess of Hunger now. The others don't matter anymore.'

In any case, Rygel wasn't even sure yet if his new body could utilize the gifts bestowed on Sir Deacon. He could still feel his body digesting the new matter it received, and it would likely be some time before his limbs incorporated the new design.

At the end, despite the prodigious amount of biomass he consumed, Rygel only felt half-full. He had a strange notion that he needed to eat even more, so that he could plant a strange and putrefying structure that laid eggs. 'A Hatchery. The beginning of my Hive Cluster.' This was what his Goddess commanded him to do, and as disgusting at it seemed, he had no choice but to follow her will.

'But not now. First I have to go back.' He had already made up a story to explain to the elders of Steepwood of what had happened. It was not too uncommon for large bands of people to fall prey to a pack of roaming Ravagers. That would neatly explain why there were no bodies left. With that decision made, he set off to his village, but not before exchanging his iron sword with Sir Deacon's steel-forged longsword. He was tempted to take the fallen knight's entire armor, but that would bring too many questions he wasn't eager to answer.

As dawn began to break in the morning sky, he should have known what happened next. A threatening series of barks sounded further off in the forest as shapes coiled and moved behind the foliage. 'Wolves. The smell attracted them here.' He thought, feeling sweat trickle down his brow as four black-furred creatures emerged to surround him. 'At least they aren't Ravagers.' Yet that did not give him much comfort, as ordinarily even a small pack like this one could tear him apart.

Strangely, however, he did not feel as threatened as he should have been. The knowledge that his body was beyond mortal limits gave him courage to face the alpha and stare right back at the creature's terrible eyes. The wolf growled aggressively at this, pawing forward in an attempt to intimidate him into submission. Somehow familiar with this ritual, Rygel instead stepped forward to meet the wolf's challenge, silently unsheathing his new steel longsword.

"Kerrigan, give me strength."

That set the predators off. Perfect to a fault, the wolves leapt at him and tore into his limbs with their muzzles before he could even take a single swing of his sword. Yet not all wolves found purchase in his flesh, which proved to be much more resilient than before. His new Zerg instincts made him thrash and rip away the wolves, and he only feebly took enough control to use his longsword to pierce the neck of the nearest wolf.

The strangled yelp of that beast did not deter the rest of the pack, so Rygel continued to stab and slash at whichever wolf he could reach. They tore and ripped at him with frantic intent, yet all their efforts came to nothing as his dense skin and flesh failed to yield to their teeth. With savage enthusiasm he stabbed his longsword into the alpha's belly, meeting it with his own eyes and seeing the life fade from its body.

Ripping out his sword, he looked up towards the rising sun and let out a savage unearthly cry.

Only then did Rygel calm down and realize what he had done. The wolves that assaulted him would have ripped any commoner into pieces. Yet not only had he survived, he decisively put them out of their misery. This newfound strength was invigorating, and he felt he could take on the entire world.

Then his hunger returned, and he knew better. This power came at a price. He let his instincts handle his body, trusting them to do the appropriate thing. Unlike his issues before, he felt little disgust about eating beasts. Even chewing them raw did not bother him anymore.

After he finished his hearty breakfast, Rygel resumed his march home, but not before he took a quick wash at the nearby stream to rid himself of his smells. Despite the victorious outcome against the wolves, he wasn't eager to tussle with anymore predators, let alone a Ravager or two. Those powerful creatures had teeth strong enough to chew through steel and the strength to cleave a man in two with their claws. Zerg or not, Rygel felt wholly unprepared to face a menace only those Blessed by Zorander or Cilistine were able to match.

'The only thing I have to do is to get home in one piece.'


VII – Return


The watchmen manning the wooden walls of Steepwood cried out in alarm at Rygel's approach. Quickly enough they recognized his tattered leather armor as one of their own, which replaced their alarm with worry. The survivor neared the gate and announced himself.

"I'm Rygel of Steepwood, militiaman under the command of Sir Deacon! Please let me in!"

One of the watchmen recognized him and hurried to wheel open the gate. After finally stepping inside the village proper, Rygel let out a sigh of relief. 'I'm home again.'

His reprieve did not last very long, as one of the watchmen summoned the head of the village. The elder of the village shuffled forward from ancient wounds and beheld his gaze upon Rygel's suddenly nervous form. "Hmm.. you look like you've been chewed out by a Ravager. Tell me, boy, what happened to Sir Deacon?"

Rygel's silence said enough, and the elder's face fell.

"How many survivors?"

"N-None.. I'm the only one who made it out."

The shock was palpable on his face. "Oh dear. May Lamarantia give them piece. You must give me a full report, but first let's see to your wounds."

"You don't need to bother, sir. I'm uninjured."

That was another surprise. The elder scrutinized Rygel's body and saw that despite the many rips and tears that his flesh was virtually untouched. "I see. Why don't you go head into my house? I'll summon our chief hunter and we'll go through your story together."

The elder's house was a palace of comfort compared to the cot he occupied at the back of his master's workshop. The gentle warmth and smells made him lower his guard, letting him relax the first time since his rebirth. The elder's wife graciously allowed him to bathe and clean himself up with their heated tub and provided him a spare change of clothes to boot. When he finally entered the living room, he took a seat at the dining table, nervously meeting the elder and chief hunter seated opposite of him. 'Now my next challenge begins.'

"Rygel, is it not? Why don't you start at the beginning. Please report on everything you've experienced since you left the village gate."

There wasn't much to tell, so Rygel was quick and succinct in his recounting. Nothing really happened during the march, and he didn't say much during the ill-fated ambush. The loss of the entire troop was unwelcome news, and a blow to the villages in this region. While death was not uncommon in these lands, the loss of so many second and third sons at once was a hole in their ranks that could not easily be refilled for some time. Only the fact that families typically had at least half-a-dozen other offspring would temper the loss.

The mention of a bow master did cause some level of concern, as did the sighting of Blackgrove tabards. The mere fact that a Blackgrove bow master had penetrated the borders so deeply was a serious provocation.

"You are certain you saw their emblem and not some smudge or hallucination?"

"I can recognize them anywhere, sir. I know what I saw. The tabard showed a field of black as pure as the night, surrounding a forest of white in the center."

The two adults exchanged a significant look before the elder turned on him again. "And how did you manage to survive where others, even Sir Deacon, did not?"

This was the moment where Rygel had to fudge the truth. "I.. I don't really know what happened. I'm sure I was struck by an arrow." He turned and retrieved the torso part of his ruined armor and fingered the hole in the middle. "Here, this is where the arrow went inside."

The chief hunter looked intrigued and grabbed the armor in order to inspect it himself. "This is his armor, alright. It fits him perfectly, so he didn't steal it from someone else. And this puncture.. yes.. the typical mark of a broadhead arrow. You should have been dead."

The suspicion in their eyes grew again, and Rygel had to talk quick to allay them. "Zorandar somehow Blessed me. He healed me, and made me stronger."

The claim sounded dubious to their ears, but the young man went on. "When the ambushers finished looting us and the animals came to feast on the bodies, I was able to fend off a couple of wolves with a sword."

The vicious bite marks on his armor strengthened his claim, but the fact that he received a Blessing of Zorandar so late was still too unfamiliar for them to wrap around. Usually, Blessings made themselves apparent in the early teens, and the elders always rigorously tested the youth for signs.

"It is not unheard of to see someone come in late with their Blessing. Times of battle often bring out the hottest anger."

The elder bore his gaze into Rygel's eyes as he retrieved his personal dagger. Rygel for his part put on a brave face and held out an exposed arm. When the dagger slashed along the palm of his hand with not a single trace, the suspicion disappeared, and wonder appeared on the faces of the adults. Only when the elder firmly stabbed the palm did he finally break the skin. Just as soon as he pulled back, the wound healed in seconds.

"Amazing.. healing and toughness.. that is a rare combination. Tell me Rygel, do you have more gifts?"

"Nothing that I know of, sir. I don't think I'm stronger or faster than anyone else."

The elder released a deep breath. "We have seen enough. You are most certainly Blessed by Zorandar, late as it came to your life. Your place in this village is no more. You must go to the local fortress town and be trained as a Warrior."

"What?" Rygel blurted, though he should have known. All of the Blessed had to serve in the armies of the Kingdoms. They were too valuable to do anything else, and the fact that they usually received lots of wealth and privileges helped much to ensure their enthusiasm. Still the fact that he might turn out to be one of them brought a good deal of marked surprise in him, though his dreams of becoming a blacksmith was permanently over.

"The next armed caravan that leaves for Fort Resil departs in two days, so take the time to pack your belongings and settle your affairs. You shall accompany them to the fort and report to the commander in charge when you arrive. I will prepare a sealed report for you to deliver to him as well. Is that understood, Rygel?"

"Yes.. sir.."

"Good. You may go now. I have more things to discuss."

Rygel left his torn armor behind and emerged outside in a daze. If his life hadn't changed enough, now it just changed again. 'A Warrior of Zorandar! Me!'

He shook his head at that. 'No, I'm a Warrior, but not of Zorandar. I serve only Kerrigan now.'

That reminded him of his less-than-pleasant duties. The need had been sated for the moment, but it never disappeared. The hunger never left his stomach, and even as he raided his stock of dried meat back at the workshop, he still felt the urge to consume. 'I'll always be hungry now.'


VIII – Departure


The news spread to the entire village and beyond, and Rygel felt absolutely miserable meeting the tearful faces of mothers and fathers who would never meet their children again. His guilt only grew worse when he had to lie to them that he left the bodies to be eaten by Ravagers, when in truth all that flesh was inside of him, digested into mass and a well of strange energy that he wasn't sure how to use.

In any event, he did as he was told and packed in his spare clothes, his personal tools, and his meager savings. He had no one else to say goodbye to instead of his former master, who only shook his head at him in disappointment. The man had wasted seven years of instruction in the art of smithing, only for Rygel to never use his talents as his occupation as a Warrior demanded more attention. At least he gave Rygel a goodbye gift in the form of another set of leather armor, though the village elder probably paid him to provide it. Still, the extra protection was welcome, as Rygel didn't want to rely on his tough skin too much.

"You'll probably get a better set of armor once you go into training, so feel free to sell this set for extra coin. You'll need it in a big town like Resil."

"Thanks, master. I'll be sure to put it to good use."

"See to it that you do." His old master said, and added a few additional words. "Just be careful, alright? There are dangers about in the bigger settlements, and I'm not talking about the Ravagers. Don't be so quick to trust other people, especially the Blessed."

With that warning, his master went back to work, allowing Rygel the rest of the days to himself. The only excitement he experienced during that time came in his dreams. The darkness enveloped his vision once more, but he saw nothing else but the light of his own soul. He was alone, utterly isolated with no other presence to keep him company. Compared to the majesty of the Swarm at its height, it was a vision of despair. 'The Swarm is too beautiful to be left in this state. I.. I have to do my Goddess proud, and rebuild her army to its former glory.'

During that time alone, he wondered about the other two people chosen by Kerrigan. Who were they, and why couldn't he go and talk to them? Instinctively, a part of him said that he was too weak, that he lacked something called 'psionic ability'. He needed to grow stronger in order to establish a stronger connection to the Swarm. Yet.. in order to grow stronger, he had to give in to hunger, and consume more flesh in addition to 'minerals' and 'gas'. A constant nagging voice told him to gather the resources to build a Hatchery, but he immediately knew he needed to consume a lot more resources before he could construct something so large. 'I don't have the coin to buy so much precious meat, and I don't even know where to begin searching for minerals.'

With nothing else to do, Rygel did his best to stay still and meditate. His deepest wish was to gain an audience with the Goddess of Hunger, to ask her of all the changes she had wrought on his body. Yet the lady found him too unworthy to bestow her attention upon, and he wasted his time with nothing else to show for it. By the time the second night had passed, he had resigned himself to stumbling along his new mission in the dark.

When morning arrived, the caravan master greeted him with a grim smile. "Name's Rigson of Brightfall. I heard about what happened. May the Gods guard the souls of the fallen."

A Citizen! "Thank you for bringing me along."

"No need to thank me. An extra Warrior by our side is always welcome, even an untrained one such as you. In any case, your job is to stay in reserve and stick to the lead caravan. Hopefully we don't need to use your talents, but with all the Ravagers on the road I'm not too sure."

After loading up the final trade goods, the caravans left the village of Steepwood to the fortress town of Resil. This was the first time Rygel actually left the village. Ordinarily, he had to pay a good amount of coin to secure passage with all the dangers on the road, but now Rigson promised to pay him a couple of golds just to stand guard!

The trip on the main road was quiet, and Rygel quickly found himself with nothing to do except to chat with the guards. Rigson also took the time to teach him a bit of city life, and his own experience as a former Warrior in of the great city of Brightfall.

"Haha, I'm nothing special compared to the elite of the city." Rigson responded after Rygel found out. "Warriors come in many grades, and I'm on the second-lowest rung. A ninth-grade Warrior like me isn't really fit for Brightfall. You can imagine my father being disappointed in me. That's why as soon as I got the offer to retire from the army, I joined the caravaneers."

"Do you miss your old life? Back in the big city?"

"Oh, Gods no. That place is a cesspool of expectations. The higher grades look down upon those weaker than them, and there's a lot of powerful Warriors and Mages there. Life on the road suits me better. I get to see a lot of places, make myself useful, and have my talents appreciated by the villages which we help them keep in touch with the rest of the world."

The retired Warrior gave him a few more pieces of advice, all of which were jaded in tone. His warnings painted a much different picture than the paradise that Rygel beheld the city of Brightfall. How could such a place where people never had to fear for a Ravager attack have it so bad? 'They're spoiled, that's what they are. When I get there, I'll be sure to.. to..'

Actually, what did he want to do? For most of his life, he always dreamed to become a successful blacksmith. Now, though, with his life upended, he received a second chance with strength beyond imaginable, but he had obligations as well. He still needed to build a Hatchery. 'But I'm not going to let my service to Kerrigan consume me whole. I deserve to live my own life in the way that I want. I'll become a warrior, and serve under His Majesty to the best of my ability.'

No lightning bolt struck him down. No fissure in the Earth appeared to swallow him whole. Rygel took that as a sign that the Goddess of Hunger wasn't displeased at his intentions. With that worry gone, he struck camp along with the rest as Rigson called for a halt.


IX – Fort Resil


Fort Resil stood proudly against the clear blue sky as Rigson's caravan finally appeared at the outer town gates. To Rygel's relief, nothing exciting happened during the week-long journey. A few lesser Ravagers shadowed the convoy for a time, but with a few spear throws and arrows, they were discouraged from doing anything threatening.

As soon as the convoy passed through the stone gate, Rigson handed Rygel a small sack of silver coin. "Here's for your trouble. This is where we separate. The fort is over there, not that you need me to point it out. Just go to the gate and say you're bringing word from Steepwood's elder to the fort commander. Show them that letter if they're skeptical."

"Thank you, Rigson, for everything."

Pocketing the coins in his knapsack, Rygel strode forward and look around the bustling town. Thousands of people must be living here! There were so many houses and other structures that he'd bet it could fit ten villages like Steepwood within the walls. The main thoroughfare he was walking on had shops on either side, all of them well-attended at this busy hour. Straight ahead he could see the road led to the fort which rested on a low hill. With heavy steps he climbed the gentle slope up, and finally came in front of the fortress' dauntingly high gate. The huge wooden double doors were swung wide open, revealing an interior courtyard full of drilling soldiers and busy craftsmen. Before he could make a single step inside, a pair of spearmen crossed their weapons in front of him, denying him passage.

"Halt. State your business."

"Oh, I uhmm.. I come as an envoy from Steepwood village. Something bad has happened there and I need to speak with the fort commander immediately."

One of the guardsmen frowned behind his metal helmet. "No villagers are allowed direct contact with Knight Commander Borius. If you have something to report, take it to a lieutenant."

Frustrated, Rygel carefully took out the letter and showed the seal to the guards. "Look, this seal is high priority. I need to see the Knight Commander."

"Unless your entire village is burned to the ground, take it to a lieutenant, villager."

How dare this grunt dismiss him like this! Rygel was about to reveal that he was a Warrior, only to be interrupted by an armored knight stepping over from a nearby training yard.

"I'll take care of this, boys." His rough and gravelly voice said before turning to the newcomer. "A Steepwooder, huh? If I recall, that's the closest village to the latest starfall. Come inside, and you can report to me."

As a blacksmith, Rygel had forged plenty of pieces of armor, mostly plain iron while his master worked on steel whenever an order came through. Having seen plenty of different works by different masters, he had a good eye on materials and quality. So when he took a good look at the knight's shining reflective suit, he almost wanted to run his hands over it. 'That's not iron or steel. I.. I don't know what it is, but it's on a whole different level from anything a village blacksmith like me could forge.'

"Are you.. the Knight Commander, sir?"

"Indeed I am." The knight held out his hand. "Commander Borius."

Shaking the gauntlet, Rygel was marginally surprised when Borius gave him a modest squeeze, then turned up the pressure until it was enough to bend a piece of iron. The knight looked more intrigued at him then while Rygel half-wondered whether the commander wanted to crush all of the bones of his hand.

"So you're a Warrior, sir..?"

"My name is Rygel, and I'm not a sir.. yet. I only found out I was a Warrior little more than a week ago. It's.. a long story."

"I'm interested to hear it. Let's head to my office." Growing more intrigued by the minute, Borius gestured the young man to follow him across the courtyard and into the inner fort. Most of the soldiers drilling here were commoners, but well equipped. In the short time he was here, Rygel could spot only three or four Warriors by the quality of their gear. He could spot nothing else that marked them as different from the norm.

The two climbed the steep and sharp steps inside and then turned to ascend another staircase before entering a cold and Spartan office.

"Sit down, son."

Rygel did, sitting down on a sturdy wooden chair that was obviously built to accommodate heavily armored individuals. As soon as Commander Borius took a seat, he broke the seal and opened the village elder's letter. The package was several pages long and it took a good few minutes for Borius to go through it all. All the while, Rygel squirmed in front of the veteran knight, not feeling entirely at ease to be sitting in the presence of a Blessed of Zorandar. 'If Borius knew how many times I cursed at Zorandar, he'd impale me with his sword.'

Luckily, the power of clairvoyance was not one of Zorandar's talents, so Borius calmly put the letter down and gave Rygel a sympathetic smile. "Ah, I understand now. You are the sole survivor of a Blackgrove ambush. I know it must be hard to walk away from all that when so many of your fellow comrades died. If you need anything, feel free to ask."

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm fine.. sir. I just.. want to know what will happen to Steepwood.. and me."

The commander pressed his gauntleted fingers together. "The situation of Steepwood is disconcerting, but rest assured that I will take action. Guards will be stationed there until the village can replace the lost militiamen. As for the intrusions into our border, we can do nothing but set up additional patrols. That is up to me to decide. What I want to discuss now is your strange circumstance. I don't think I've ever seen a man receive his Blessing in your years. You are.. how old?"

"Twenty, sir."

"The oldest I've seen is sixteen, and that was just a case of undiscovered talent. Are you sure you've been tested by your village?"

"From ten to fourteen years, sir, just like the rest of my village. I can't explain it myself why it would show now. I was just a blacksmith's apprentice before then."

"Hm, I'm no priest of Zorandar, so I will leave the matter be." Borius removed his gauntlets and rifled through his desk, grabbing a couple of sheets of paper. With a quill and inkwell, he took his time to draft a series of letters. "I'll inform the temple of your Blessing. I'm sure they will send a priest to investigate. What powers have you observed so far?"

The mention of meeting a priest of Zorandar made him worry a little, but he resolved to show as little as possible of his concerns. "My skin is tough enough to withstand wolf bites, and my wounds heal quickly, up to a point that I healed from a gut wound."

"Mm.. Yes, the elder mentioned that in the letter. I'll take his word for it." Borius remarked as he patiently dabbed his quill in the inkwell before resuming his writing. "Still, Zorandar usually bestows either one or the other gifts, but almost never both in such strength. Either you are the second coming of the Eternal Emperor who united the entire continent under a single civilization, or you are a victim to the whims of the Gods."

Laughing nervously, Rygel tried to defuse the suggestion. The mere fact that he was compared with the legendary hero who conquered half of Ashantu made him ill at ease. "I'm not that special, sir."

"As you say. In any case, you are quite a piece of work. You're too old to be enrolled in the regular Warrior program, and your unusual set of gifts won't fit in too well. We shall have to test your body thoroughly to make sure we have mapped out everything you can do, but I already have something in mind for you, Rygel."

From the gleam in Borius' eyes, Rygel wasn't sure he wanted to know.


X – Warrior


Sir Borius conducted the testing himself at a private training hall elsewhere in the castle. The master Warrior painfully exposed Rygel's lackluster militia training early on, and it seemed the Goddess of Hunger hadn't seen fit to imbue Rygel with fighting instinct or strength. Then the knight turned up the pressure, breaking through the inexperienced young man's guard to inflict heavy blows with his heavy broadsword. Each impact stung the young man's skin, sometimes drawing blood, before his body healed over the wound.

"You can certainly take the blows." Borius said, impressed at the rapid healing. "That will prove useful once your training is up to par. I see a lot of potential in you, son. Just do as you're told and I'm sure you will move up in the ranks in no time."

After a few more spars and impromptu lessons, a noise at the entrance interrupted them both. A slim knight geared in a full set of dark steel entered the hall and saluted the commander. "Sir, you asked of me?"

It was only then that Rygel realized the knight was female. Zorandar's Blessing didn't often fall upon women, much like Cilistine rarely graced men.

"Sir Calada, how is your leg wound? Have you finished your recovery?"

The female knight lifted up her helmet's faceguard to reveal an expression carved in stone. "My leg has recovered fully three weeks ago, sir. I am more than capable of returning to duty."

Smiling good-naturedly, Borius nodded in satisfaction and gestured to Rygel. "Excellent. Then meet your new charge. Rygel here shall be your new squire. Train your charge well in the Art of War."

Stone cold eyes flicked from Borius to Rygel, and her dourness only increased as she beheld his stance. "A village militiaman. Seriously, sir?"

"He came a little late into Zorandar's fold, but he's the genuine deal." And to prove his point, Borius snapped his broadsword and with blurring speed hacked it straight into Rygel's neck before he could even utter a squeak. The thunderous blow physically knocked him down even with his extra mass, and a spurt of blood escaped the shallow wound before it healed over. "Rygel here has both toughness and healing, though nothing else that I can determine so far."

Whatever Borius had intended, the demonstration succeeded in catching Calada off-guard. "Alright, I'll take him in, but only because I know the other knights won't nearly do as well as I."

"I'll leave you two alone in order to get to know each other better." Borius smiled and made to leave the training hall. "I'll ready the necessary paperwork for you by tonight. Good luck, Sir Calada. And may the Gods look upon you with favor, Squire Rygel."

When Borius finally left, Calada turned to scowl at her new squire before lowering her faceplate. She unsheathed her own sword, a thin but lengthy longsword, though she removed the kiteshield strapped to her back and placed it out of the way. When she finished her preparations, she faced Rygel in an offensive stance.

Dread welled in Rygel's stomach. "Uhm, ma'm, if I may ask, what is it I'm supposed to do?"

"I need to know how you fight before I can remake you into a proper Warrior. Now put that pretty piece of steel in place and fight."

As soon as Rygel lifted up his guard, Calada bellowed a fearsome warcry and charged. The knight revealed much her power by hammered right into the inexperienced man with a ferocity that far surpassed what Borius previously showed. Calada tested her new squire with fury, many times inflicting blows that would have otherwise chopped off his limbs. What was even worse was that Rygel somehow felt that Calada was holding back! 'Is this the power of a Warrior? I hope Kerrigan can match Zorandar's gifts, because if I stay as strong as now, I'll be no match against a proper knight.'

Thinking of his Goddess made his thoughts stray to the buried feeling that he needed to establish a Hatchery. Evidently, his hidden self didn't like being ignored for so long, and the need quickly took over everything in his mind, until the compulsion was all he had left. That distraction almost proved him fatal, as Calada ruthlessly flicked his sword from his hand before lunging forward to pierce Rygel's chest. The longsword surprisingly went much further than before, and Calada quickly retracted her sword before she could do more damage. It was enough, though, as the shock of the pain practically knocked the squire out.

Though Calada quickly determined that nothing serious was wrong with Rygel, she still shook her head at the pathetic sight. "Weak."