Lightbringer
Chapter 5
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Lucifer emerged from the chief's home, noting that the sun was already beginning to dip below the horizon.
How many hours had he spent talking with the chief? It had certainly been a long while, but it wasn't something he had really thought to pay attention to.
He vaguely recalled Cheshire excusing herself at some point to go take care of some chores and prepare supper. That seemed like some time ago. If he had been human, his body would have undoubtedly been extremely stiff by the time he stepped out of there, and yet he felt no ill-effects at all.
"There's no rush, but I do hope you consider my special request, Lucifer. And if you ever need anything else from me, just ask. I am at your service," the Chief said with a smile as he stood by the front door.
"I will keep that in mind. Thank you again for your time, Chief. You have been most helpful," Lucifer responded with a slight nod before he walked away.
His mind was churning with all the new information he had been given. The chief had turned out to be far more knowledgeable of this world than Lucifer had initially thought, and definitely more helpful than Svar, which was why he had spent such a long time conversing with him.
Though it wasn't physically taxing in any way, it had been a mentally exhausting but necessary ordeal.
Chief Sprigg had apparently traveled across much of the known world once upon a time. The old man claimed that it was not some grand quest or anything of the sort that compelled him to go out into the world. He had simply wanted to see the world in his younger days, and so he set off on his own – with his family's blessing – and traveled as far as he could for a few years before returning home.
The Chief told Lucifer all he could of his travels. He spent a few years in the Kingdom of Re-Estize and a couple of months in the Dragon Kingdom. He recounted his brief foray into the lands of the Slane Theocracy and of particular interest and entertainment was his trip through the Azerlisia Mountains with some friendly dwarves on the way back home to Woodhaven. The man unfortunately was unable to make it all the way out to the Holy Kingdom far to the west, nor was he able to get to the Argland Council State in the far northwest corner of the region, where a council of dragons ruled a country full of non-humans and demi-humans.
Lucifer had learned some things about the religions in this world too, specifically about the Six Great Gods and the Four Great Gods. Then there were the Thirteen Heroes; The Eight Greed Kings; The Dragon Lords; Demon Lords and Demon Gods. It was a lot to take in all at once, but he was glad he was informed of these historical figures because from what he was told of their feats and powers, they were possibly former players of YGGDRASIL too like himself. Though supposedly long dead now.
Of course, it was impossible to know for sure if they really were YGGDRASIL players, but Lucifer had his suspicions. That being said, it was not out of the question that there might currently be other players that were transported to this world besides himself. From what he had learned about history in this new world, players seemed to get into conflict with one another, so it really was for the best to keep to the shadows until he identified other players, figured out their motives, and strengthened his own position before he sought to engage them.
Especially now that he had found out that while resurrection magic did exist in this world, it was actually quite rare. So rare, in fact, that currently no one in the Empire could perform such a feat, at least not to the Chief's knowledge. Not even the great Fluder Paradyne, the Imperial Court Wizard, who was supposedly the strongest magic caster alive in the world, but that was probably less about a lack of talent or power and more because the wizard had chosen to learn other spells rather than those of the healing and support types.
Lucifer thought it prudent to investigate this Fluder character for himself since there was a chance that maybe he was a player too.
Their discussion then went briefly over commerce and money. The currency here was in coins made of precious metals, and they were split into copper, silver, and gold, which was unsurprising to Lucifer. It was, he thought, a typical currency system for a world like this. By contrast, in YGGDRASIL the only currency was gold coins, of which Lucifer had plenty of.
The Chief thankfully had a weighing scale, and luckily enough a gold coin secreted away somewhere – Lucifer was told that a typical family could live well for a month off of three gold coins, and with the scale Lucifer found that the YGGDRASIL gold coins he carried around with him were actually worth double the gold coins in this new world, simply because it was bigger and heavier. Handling the coins might draw unwanted attention to himself, however, so he figured that he would refrain from using them for now. Which was a pain because it did mean that he was effectively broke at the moment.
While finding out more about geography, politics, history, and economics from the chief was definitely very helpful to Lucifer, along with the two new maps now safely stored in his inventory, he still needed more pertinent information on magic power and fighting strength in this new world. Which meant a trip to Oldaven and the Adventurer's Guild was in order, as well as the branch of the Imperial Magic Academy located in the city. He figured he might as well visit one of the Temples there while he was at it so that he could see firsthand how they operated.
He was amused at the thought that he was technically going on quests as if he were still in the game of YGGDRASIL.
He quickly stopped by the Ingolde residence where a dismayed Cheshire made him promise to visit again soon after he told her that he was leaving for Oldaven immediately. Svar was not home yet, so Lucifer bade Cheshire to thank her father for him for all his help too. Promising to repay them for their kindness, he left the frowning girl behind, wondering briefly why she was so upset at his departure. They barely knew each other.
With his goodbyes settled, he started walking down the main road that went south west as the dark of night began to settle around him, the last vestiges of light from the setting sun disappearing over the horizon.
As he walked, he realized that he hadn't really seen any of the other villagers until then as he passed a few who gave him curious looks, cautiously keeping a safe distance away from him. He merely nodded in greeting to them as he pressed on.
The chief had mentioned the village of Woodhaven was quite small with only a few dozen residents grouped into eleven families, a far cry from the thousands and millions that lived in bigger settlements.
After a while, the village was no longer in sight behind him and once he was far enough away he turned off the road. Walking through some tall grass that went up past his ankles, he made his way towards a couple of nearby hills. His [True Sight] allowed him to see clear as day even as the night fully took hold, and his impeccable balance and strong legs meant he could walk as smoothly as if he had been walking on even pavement.
When he could no longer see the road after cresting the first small hill and entering into the shadows of a clump of trees and shrubs, he extended his wings out with a little effort, eliciting a whooshing sound as they unfurled. The majestic feathery wings flexed back and forth for a moment as he eyed them with a grin. Definitely one of the best parts of this whole strange situation was being able to fully experience the exhilaration of flying.
He swept the area with a studious gaze once more, making sure there wasn't anyone nearby that might see him. Then, leaping into the air, he beat his wings and took flight, accelerating up into the mostly clear starry night sky.
Relishing the wind on his skin and the feeling of hurtling through the empty expanse of sky, he angled himself to fly south west, towards where the city of Oldaven was supposed to be. He made sure to keep an eye on the ground rushing by below him, in particular the main road that his flight path was parallel to, in case he caught sight of anything interesting.
It didn't take long for him to sight the myriad of lights clumped together on the horizon, far more and denser than the ones at Woodhaven. Squinting, he could make out the sprawling city ahead with its hundreds of stone structures. Some of them were impressively grand, and one structure in particular near the center of the city appeared to be a coliseum.
That was the city arena, where gladiator battles were apparently held. He pictured the movie Gladiator in his mind and wondered if it was a similar scene - blood, sweat, and dust. Warriors screaming out to the crowd and asking them if they were entertained. Roaring crowds and the rush of excitement and cheers filling the air. He would definitely have to check that out before he was done with his business here.
Next to it was a square castle, which Lucifer thought probably belonged to the noble who was in charge of the city.
Two concentric walls protected the city, one that encircled the outer perimeter and one that was further in. By his estimation, both were at least thirty feet high. On the walls he saw the lights from the torches of the soldiers patrolling, and from this distance it looked like a city of fairies or fireflies with all the lights twinkling and moving. He wished he had a camera or something to take a snapshot of this moment.
When he got closer, Lucifer started to look for a secluded place to land. Somewhere far enough from any potential watchful eyes, but not too far since he would be traveling the rest of the way on foot. It was as he was scanning the area below him that he noticed something peculiar. He thought it might have been his imagination at first, but a closer look proved that his eyes were not in fact deceiving him.
The eastern outskirts of the city were comprised of several large farms, and out in the crop fields of one of the farthest farms there was a group of what looked to be three armed men dragging a bound person behind them. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but something told him it wasn't anything good.
He angled and circled around high overhead, debating with himself whether or not to intervene as they continued to drag their prey through the dirt. Every now and again, one of the thugs would kick the captive. He imagined they weren't saying anything pleasant while they were doing this, and he frowned.
According to the Chief, slavery was not only legal, but widely practiced in the Empire and other countries. A large part of the agricultural workforce was slave labor, so it was only logical to conclude that the scene below had something to do with it. Perhaps it was a case of masters punishing a disobedient slave. The citizens of the Empire didn't seem to think slavery was anything wrong, and in fact their Empire relied on that slave labor to function.
What he was witnessing could very well be within the realm of legality and acceptable behavior in this world.
What troubled Lucifer was how almost clinical he was observing the scene below. While he did feel some semblance of disgust and disdain for what was going on, particularly because of how helpless and defenseless their captive was, he didn't feel a strong enough urge to intervene even though his mind was telling him that it was the right thing to do to put a stop their harsh treatment of the hapless slave.
Was it perhaps a byproduct of this new body and the fact that he was not physically human anymore? Or was it simply because this had absolutely nothing to do with him in the first place so he shouldn't care? Especially since slavery was legal in the first place.
What do I do? Why don't I feel compelled to help?
On the one hand, he could keep flying and ignore this incident. He might not feel so great about it initially, but he wouldn't be sticking his nose in other people's business either and potentially inciting attention and revenge from that party. He'd probably forget about it after a few days and go on with his life. Plus, he'd be able to get started right away on getting more information as well as potentially signing up for the Adventurer's Guild. He had no idea what time they closed, or even what time it currently was, but he knew it was getting quite late in the evening.
On the other hand, if he were to intervene, he would kick some bad guy ass and definitely save someone's life in the process, or at least ease their suffering, and that would make him feel pretty good as a hero of sorts. Perhaps this person or their loved ones could pay him back with a reward of some kind. Plus he did want to test out his powers and strength at some point.
He looked towards the city and then back down at the four figures moving through the field, feeling torn. A part of him wanted to move on, and another part of him wanted to help, and neither part felt more strongly than the other. He had to make a choice.
Who was he, an outsider from another world, to force these people to change their culture and way of life? Besides, it's not like he was going to be some champion for abolishing slavery or anything. That seemed like way too much work and way more complicated a task than he was comfortable signing up for.
Still, he continued to circle over the field like some bird of prey, unable to decide on a course of action. He kept an eye on the people below who never suspected for a moment that they were being watched from above.
They appeared to be making their way towards a cluster of buildings on one side of the farm. They kicked their defenseless captive again, he thought for the sixth time now, and it was actually getting to the point that it was starting to annoy Lucifer.
He sighed. But who was he to think he could just barge into this world and tell people what to do and what not to do? He was a plain 29 year old banker with practically no social life and definitely no family. He was a gamer who was simply caught up in whatever mess this was.
Clucking his tongue, he glanced up at the stars, breathing in the cool evening air as his hair ruffled in the wind.
No. He was wrong. In this world he was no longer just a twenty-nine year old banker or a simple gamer. He was Lucifer Morningstar, the Lightbringer, also known as Samael, the Angel of Death, the pinnacle of angelic might who was second only to God himself, and who sought to be a god in his own right. A figure both good and evil who did whatever he desired because he was free and had the power to do so.
He looked down at both of his hands, his fingers curling as he balled them into fists. They were shaking, and he realized his body had begun to tingle with energy. In the back of his mind he could feel his power straining to surge forth, as if reminding him that he wasn't actually a helpless bystander anymore. Reminding him that he was no longer his powerless old self who could do nothing about the situation even if he wanted to do something.
This was no longer a game. This wasn't even his old life either. This... This was his new reality now.
What did that really mean? He wasn't entirely certain of that just yet. But what he did know was that at that very moment he decided he wanted to intervene in the situation he was witnessing below and he had the power to do so, even though he didn't actually feel compelled to do so, he would do it because he wanted to.
"RAAAAGGHHHH!" he roared like some wild beast, his body feeling the electric rush of raw power as his mana overflowed for a few seconds.
He couldn't remember that ever happening in YGGDRASIL, and he wasn't entirely sure why it happened now, but it felt pretty good. Kind of intoxicating too.
His [Divine Aura] was abruptly unleashed and the energy exploded around him in a rush of brilliant white light. His hair fluttered every which way as a whirlwind seemed to envelope him for a few seconds from the release of energy. His body continued to glow, and to anyone who was witnessing this it was as if one of the stars in the heavens had descended upon the world in all its shining glory.
It took him a handful of seconds to grab his helmet from his inventory and put it on. He realized too late that this was all probably attracting a lot of attention in the middle of the night. The best thing he could do now was to finish this business quickly and get back to going incognito.
Golden eyes shining like miniature suns, his gaze focused far below to the ground beneath him, and to the three unsuspecting thugs that were now looking up at him with fear.
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Accompanied by a dozen Imperial Guardsmen on horseback, the magnificent red and gold carriage rolled to a stop in the main courtyard of the Anoch Mansion, where a contingent of soldiers in formation were headed by a small group of nobles to welcome their esteemed guest.
The carriage itself, while beautiful by design, with high quality materials and expert craftsmanship, was actually overshadowed by the magnificence of the beasts that were pulling it.
Two sleipnirs, magical horses with eight powerful legs, stood tall and majestic with their dark coats lightly covered in sweat. Each one had the speed and strength of five horses put together. They were noticeably bigger than the warhorses the Guardsmen were riding, and those horses were the best of the top breeds in the Empire, chosen for their size, strength, and speed.
A murmur went over the gathered crowd as they admired the rare beasts, for even among the wealthy and powerful nobility of the Baharuth Empire, it was rare to see one, let alone own one. Only the Imperial Family, the Five Great Nobles, and a handful of other noble families had these majestic creatures.
Two of the Guardsmen dismounted, flanking either side of the carriage door closest to the mansion's main entrance. One of them moved to open the door, stepping aside as he swung it open.
First to emerge was a big knight in full adamantite plate, his helmet tucked under his arm as he surveyed the area with keen blue eyes. He stepped aside to reveal a slim gentleman in the garb of a butler, who also stepped to the side. Once they were in position, they bowed and taking their cue the crowd followed suit.
Only the two Guardsmen by the carriage did not bow as they kept vigilant watch over their charge.
Prince Jircniv stepped out slowly, observing the scene before him with a neutral expression. His sandals touched the flat stone ground of the courtyard and he walked forward with a confidence that made him seem taller and older than he actually was.
His subordinates, the butler and the knight, stood straight and followed in his wake as the group stopped before a small line of nobles.
The prince recognized the Anoch family immediately, along with a handful of other nobles right behind them. He sauntered towards them, back straight and chin up.
"We are honored that you have graced us with your presence, your highness," greeted Baron Anoch, still in a deep bow, "We humbly apologize if our hospitality does not meet the level fit for a person of your status."
"Rise," the boy commanded, and everyone stood tall once again. "There is no need for apology, Baron Anoch. I am not unreasonable. I gave you little warning of my arrival, so I will be pleased with your hospitality this evening no matter what."
"I... am pleased to hear that, your highness," replied the baron with a growing smile. "Please allow me introduce you to my family."
First were his sons, Agile and Nimble. Eldest and third eldest of his children.
While both had some martial talent, Agile was far more suited for governance and politics whereas Nimble was born to be a warrior. It showed in the way they dressed, with Agile wearing an impeccable suit befitting nobility while Nimble wore some of the finest light armor in their arsenal. Though still somewhat green in terms of real fighting experience, Nimble had a natural talent and the discipline and drive to hone it with practice.
"You appear to be geared for a fight, Nimble," remarked the prince with an air of curiosity.
"Yes, your highness. I will be putting on a show of martial skill for all to see, and it is my hope to entertain you and win your approval," replied Nimble respectfully.
"We shall see."
After remarking how beautiful the baron's daughters were and congratulating Swift, the baron's second eldest, on her engagement, the prince went on to greet the other nobles with astonishingly practiced ease, further surprising them all by knowing their names and their titles even though they had never met before until now.
All the while, Baron Anoch watched him closely. The old noble wondered what the prince sought to gain from his appearance tonight. The gears were already turning in his head, trying to decipher the young prince who had not once forayed directly into the courtly life until now, and he wondered if there was any way his own family could move ahead from this in the great game of the court. A thought that likely crossed the minds of many of the other nobles here.
"He has a presence and charisma that is frightening for his age," whispered Agile from beside him. "And he seems to know everyone here despite having never met them before. He was taught very well."
"Right you are. I can already tell he will be a force to be reckoned with once he's a little older and more established in the court. We must ensure that we end tonight on the most favorable of terms with the young prince," replied the baron quietly.
Agile nodded in silent agreement.
"Shall we? It's getting quite dark out and I am feeling parched," the prince said, his amethyst eyes resting on the baron expectantly once he was done exchanging initial pleasantries.
"O-Of course, your highness. Forgive me. Please, after you," he gestured towards the front doors of his home.
The evening continued inside as they dined on a wide selection of delicious foods, more than initially planned thanks to the last minute arrival of the prince, which had necessitated that the Anoch household pull out all the stops to leave the most favorable impression. They had even gone so far as to purchase double the amount of drinks they were originally going to serve, so as not to run into the potential embarrassment of running out of a particular drink.
Halfway through the night, the guests were requested to move to the upper balcony overlooking the rear courtyard. The conversations got more animated as the excitement for what was to come grew. While uncommon, a martial performance was acceptable entertainment for formal events such as this.
A contingent of thirty Anoch soldiers formed a square perimeter in the courtyard as a few robed figures nearby who appeared to be magic casters called forth some additional magic lights to properly light up the courtyard. Inside the square formation stood the lone figure of the second son of the baron. He was in the well-polished light armor that he had been wearing all night.
Nimble bowed to the crowd, feeling slightly nervous as he felt every eye on him. Taking in a deep breath to calm himself, he withdrew the fortified wooden practice sword that had been strapped to his waist and got into a ready stance, holding the sword out in front of him with both hands.
The courtyard fell silent, the murmurs of conversation dying down as they anticipated the start of the performance.
"Begin!" exclaimed the baron, accompanied by the loud clap of his hands echoing across the space.
Two soldiers ran at Nimble from the front and back, their own wooden swords ready to strike. With one step forward he parried the first strike and pushed the first man away with an outstretched arm, causing him to stumble backwards somewhat embarrassingly.
Without skipping a beat, Nimble quickly moved his weapon over his head and behind him, blocking the strike from the back that was aimed at his neck with ease.
Shifting his weight he spun around and swung a wide strike that the soldier behind him barely managed to block. With impressive speed, Nimble's weapon flowed into a second strike that hit the side of the man's knee, just behind the knee guard, eliciting a yelp of pain as the soldier lost balance. The third strike rapped him on the helmet hard enough to take him out of commission as he fell to the ground with what was probably a nasty bump and a strong headache once he awakened later.
The first soldier jumped to attack with an upward thrust that Nimble simply sidestepped, the whiff causing the soldier to stumble once again as he had put a lot of strength into the swing. Nimble closed the gap between them even further and hit the man's chin with the tip of his sword that he had swung around, pushing upward like an uppercut. Head snapping back, the soldier was unconscious before he hit the ground, his sword flying off as he lost his grip.
After a brief moment punctuated by applause from the gathered crowd, the two downed soldiers were taken away and Nimble was once again left to himself as the next phase of the demonstration began.
This time, four soldiers rushed him. It took him only a little longer to dispatch the four with the same ease as the first two, and he had barely moved from his spot in the middle of the formation.
"Not bad," murmured Baziwood, who had moved to stand slightly behind Prince Jircniv. The knight was watching with keen interest in his eyes.
"My brother is just getting started, sir knight," remarked Agile proudly, who was standing on the other side of the young royal.
The prince said nothing as he continued to observe impassively with his hands clasped behind him.
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Her mind and her body were absolutely numb from the pain.
Even though she could feel them dragging her bodily through the field, none of the hurt that she should feel from her rough treatment registered in her mind. Neither did any of the kicks that she was only vaguely aware were hitting her in places that should have been painful. She wondered how many of her bones were broken this time around. Was she still bleeding?
"... better not run away again," said one of the men walking beside her. He had apparently been talking to her this whole time, but she had only managed to get that last part. What else had they been saying?
"Yeah, because if you do runaway again... well..."
She hazily felt the kick hit her side, but she couldn't even react to it anymore. Everything hurt and every fiber of her being screamed pain and suffering, so adding on a little more didn't mean much in the end.
She tried to move her head to get a look around, to see the faces of her cruel masters who dragged her across the field so that she would know to be more cautious around them in the future, but she was too weak.
"At least the boss'll be happy we brought one of the runaways back in one piece... mostly," another of the men said with a mixture of amusement and relief. "And this one's from the latest batch, right?"
"Yeah, think so. But to be honest, they all look the fuckin' same so it's hard to tell."
"We should've brought that other one back too. I think she was from the same batch. The boss won't be too pleased to lose one of the newer ones."
"It's not my fault that she fell and broke her neck like that trying to run away from us. Dumb bitch was clumsy."
"Riiight. Just like it wasn't your fault that your dick happened to slip into her before she happened to break her neck."
"Shut the fuck up! You had a piece too, you right bastard!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Ha! Fuck off!"
"Whatever, it doesn't matter that much to me. As long as we never return empty handed, we can have our fun and the boss won't be too mad. Who cares if a few slaves end up dead or lost in the process?"
Their conversation continued in that vein for a while and she didn't care enough to listen any further.
Who were they talking about anyway? Someone from the same batch? She couldn't even remember anymore. Everything was just a haze of pain. All the hungry, exhausted nights of the last few weeks had blended together. She had barely slept in that time. Every day she worked the fields or any other tasks they had for her, and whenever she fell short of that task, she was punished. Sometimes they didn't feed her. Other times they violated her. Beatings and whippings were the lightest of the punishments she had received thus far, in her opinion.
She vaguely recalled stolen whispers among her people who were held there as slaves. The scantest looks of hope as they figured out some half-baked plan to escape. She remembered the patience. The will to endure because soon it would be over. Soon they would be running away and free from this nightmare.
But the plan failed. Miserably. And now there was more pain than she could ever remember experiencing in one instance. This was truly hell, she thought, and she may as well have been dead already. Yet she wasn't. Not yet.
She could barely open her puffy, bloodshot eyes, but she managed to force them to part enough to see a little. Above her was the endless expanse of the starry night sky, and they looked like the cold eyes of the cosmos were watching her. Judging her. Her vision was blurry, but she could still see their pinpricks of light in the darkness.
Please... please someone help me...
She tried to speak the words, but all she managed to do was croak, eliciting another swift kick to her side and something was said that caused laughter among the others.
Please...
Her broken soul cried out to the silent Gods above, hoping beyond hope that her prayers would be answered. The Gods existed, didn't they? She had heard of them. There were four, or maybe six. It didn't matter the number as long as there was one that might hear her plea. Would they not take pity on her? Were they even watching?
BOOM!
As if on cue, above them there was a brilliant flash of pure white light that radiated across the sky. The wind howled for a few seconds, the crops around them swaying dangerously as if a tempest had come in all its fierce fury.
The men all jumped from the booming sound of the explosion of light above and covered their eyes, momentarily blinded by the sudden bright light. Their years of violent experience allowed them to stay somewhat composed, their hands going to their weapons as they crouched low to the ground.
"What the hell?" yelled one of them over the sudden windstorm as they all glanced around and above warily.
Then as quickly as it had come, the wind died down and everything around them was once again calm. The one thing that hadn't gone away though was the strange brilliant light that still shone from overhead.
Peering up at it, they realized that the light was actually getting closer, and not knowing what it was they felt genuine fear for the first time in a long time. They had never seen such a sight before. Their hairs were standing on end, and it was a wonder that they hadn't run away, though that was probably because the fear had gripped their legs entirely, rendering them immobile.
The radiant ball of white light faded somewhat as it got closer, like it was allowing them to see what was sheathed within its light, and at its core they beheld a being in shining silver armor with white and gold lines and white robes edged with gold. Its silver helm had two sharp curving horns protruding out of it, and through the slit in the visor they could see two glowing golden orbs of light shining through.
The humanoid being was descending from the sky, held aloft by a pair of massive feathery wings of the purest white. It looked like a cross between an angel and a demon, though more angel than demon, yet none of them had really seen either of those beings in person before, so they weren't entirely sure what to think.
"What... the fuck..." one of the men managed to speak, unable to do or say much else beyond that.
"Please tell me I'm not the only one seeing this shit," said another, his voice sounded torn between awe and fear.
Even the broken and battered girl could hardly believe what she was seeing. It would not have surprised her at all if this was all a figment of her imagination, a way for her mind to trick herself into thinking that salvation was possible. That she could be saved. Or was this unknown light going to finally be the death of her?
Still... maybe... just maybe... the Gods... did they finally hear me?
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"Forgive me for asking, your highness, but are you not impressed?" probed Agile as the crowd erupted into another round of applause except for the prince, who looked almost bored, though it was admittedly hard to tell since his expression had been mostly guarded all evening.
Nimble stood triumphant in the courtyard, having defeated the thirty soldiers around him in four successive waves - 2, 4, 6, 8, and 10. Not once through the whole ordeal had he received even a glancing strike. Sweat covered his brow from the effort as he bowed and smiled to the prince, who merely nodded in acknowledgement.
Truthfully, the prince was indeed a little bored. While the young noble did perform well, his opponents were not skilled enough to warrant praise for defeating them, nor was the display that exciting. There was also the matter of the prince having seen fights in the Arenas, and the Grand Arena even, which were far and away more impressive than the spectacle he had just witnessed.
Of course, the prince was well aware not to say any of that out loud, lest he offend the Anochs.
"Your brother has some skill with a blade," the prince acquiesced, placing a gloved hand on the stone railing in front of him. He turned towards Baziwood, who noticed the movement and understood the intention of his master. He wanted the knight's opinion.
"He shows promise, your highness," agreed Baziwood, giving his honest opinion. "Maybe if given more advanced training, and some actual battle experience, he might turn into something great."
Agile smiled, "I am honored at your glowing appraisal of my brother, sir knight. He has been working hard to improve on his skills so that one day he could be one of the best warriors in the Empire." What the young noble heard next made his heart skip a beat.
"Great enough to become one of my knights, Bazi?" the prince queried. His purple eyes seemed to gleam with sudden interest in the dim light.
Bazi chuckled. "Hard to say for certain, but perhaps, your highness."
Pouncing on the chance, Agile spoke quickly. "If that is your wish, your highness, I believe my brother would be most honored to be one of your knights if given the chance. I can talk to him and my father an-"
Prince Jircniv raised a hand to cut him off, closing his eyes as if in irritation, and Agile immediately shut up and bowed his head.
"Forgive me, your highness. I spoke out of turn." Cursing himself for getting swept up in the exciting proposition, he hoped he didn't offend the prince enough for him to rethink his potential offer. This could be huge for his family.
"Very well. My curiosity has been piqued. How about we conduct a test?"
"A test, your highness?" Agile blinked. Surely he didn't mean...
"If your brother passes the test, I will gladly appoint him as one of my knights, sworn to my service as Prince of the great Baharuth Empire. If he fails, well... perhaps there will be another time." Those amethyst eyes slid over to stare straight at Agile, whose own blue eyes could only widen as his mind raced at the implications.
The baron's eldest son could feel his heartbeat double, the blood pumping at his temples so loudly he could hear each thump. He knew this was likely to be a one-time deal, that there wouldn't actually be a next time if his brother failed now or if they refused the offer. Was his brother ready? Were they all ready for this? This was a chance to get another foothold so as to rise in standing in the court.
"My prince..." the noble paused, thinking to buy time and glean more information, "What... what would be his test?"
"That is for me to decide," replied Prince Jircniv evenly. "If you so wish, you may converse with your family on the matter, but I might change my mind by the time you return with an answer."
Agile looked to his brother in the courtyard below who was conversing with a few of the soldiers he had been fighting. No doubt apologizing while simultaneously praising them for their efforts. Agile's eyes then drifted over to where his father stood some distance away talking with a few other nobles, who were likely complimenting him on his son's display. He hoped to catch the patriarch's eye, but the baron was engrossed in some story or other and would not look this way. There would be no time to receive counsel from him.
Clenching his fist, Agile returned his gaze to his brother. Nimble would no doubt agree to the proposal if he were here, and if things went well they would have a strong connection to the Imperial Family through his service to the young prince. Besides, refusing the offer might mean incurring the displeasure of the prince, and his father did say that they must do all they can to end the night on favorable terms with him.
To be an Imperial Knight of the Imperial Family was an honor that would certainly elevate the status of the noble Anoch Family even further than Swift's engagement to the Viscount's son would. Surely their father would approve if he spoke for the family and agreed to this deal here and now.
"He'll do it, your highness," he said at last, feeling relieved that he had said it, as if a growing weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "I'm sure that my brother would take on your test with earnest and would be beyond honored to have a chance to be one of your knights."
For the first time that evening, the prince truly smiled. "Excellent." He lazily waved a hand to Baziwood.
"ATTENTION!" roared the knight commandingly, eliciting a few gasps of surprise from the assembled crowd. Murmurs spread through the guests as all eyes fell on the knight and the prince he served. "His highness, Prince Jircniv, wishes to speak."
Total silence settled almost immediately, such was the respect they offered the young prince, as was expected of them.
The prince's voice carried surprisingly well given his small stature.
"I see a lot of potential with the martial skill displayed by the baron's son, Lord Nimble Arc Dale Anoch, and have therefore come to an agreement with the Anoch Family," gesturing towards Agile, who earned worried and questioning glances from each of his family members and his father in particular. "I will offer Lord Nimble a place among my knights if he is but to pass my test."
A few surprised gasps escaped from the crowd as they all began to whisper among themselves.
Agile glanced down at his brother, who gave him a look that said, what the hell have you gotten me into?
"The test is simple enough," continued the prince, his steady gaze sweeping across the gathered nobility. "My knight captain, Sir Baziwood Peshmel, known as the Lightning Bolt of the East, will now face him in real combat."
There was a stunned silence before a mixture of nervousness and excitement jolted through the crowd. This was certainly not what anyone was expecting, least of all the Anochs.
Baron Anoch himself was hurriedly making his way over to the prince from the other side of the balcony.
Agile stood petrified to the spot, wondering if he had made the right decision. He was at a loss for words, not realizing that the prince had meant the test would be conducted tonight, or that it would involve his brother crossing swords with a warrior of Sir Baziwood's caliber. Did the prince plan this all along? Or was this a spur of the moment decision?
The Baroness quickly took their youngest daughter inside, realizing the implications of what might happen, while the Lady Swift was torn between a mixture of emotions. Dismay at her evening in the limelight being hijacked, fear for her brother's safety, and pride and excitement at the potential benefits a connection to the Imperial Family would bring.
"Your highness, I-" the baron started to speak, but the young prince cut him off.
"The agreement has been made, baron. Unless your family wishes to go back on their word, I suggest you make the preparations for a proper duel immediately." Prince Jircniv spared him a gaze that meant certain displeasure if he did.
"Well... I... uh... I will get right on it, your highness," the baron said in defeat, dragging his eldest son away a bit roughly by the arm.
Bazi spoke up when the nobles were out of earshot. "Well this is unexpected." There was an eagerness in his voice that betrayed the calm he had been exuding up until that point. It had been a while since he had crossed swords with someone with decent skill, and he was already relishing the chance to fight.
"Try not to kill him," the prince said curtly. "He could be of use."
With a wolfish grin, the knight bowed his head. "I'll try my best, your highness."
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Lucifer casually touched down in the middle of the group, landing right next to the terribly battered and bloodied figure bound with ropes like some animal they were dragging back from a hunt. He folded his wings behind them, but kept them out in case he needed to get airborne quickly, or potentially needed to use them to fight. He ignored the three frightened thugs around him as he took a closer look at the captive, who turned out to be a girl.
Her clothes, or what was left of them, were torn and tattered and stained with blood, revealing almost all of her bloodied and bruised skin. She had a frighteningly thin body from what he guessed were the effects of severe malnutrition and there were obvious signs of more than a few broken or dislocated bones. The girl was missing some of the nails on her fingers and toes, and the ones that remained were cracked and broken. Her black hair was dry, filthy, and disheveled, and looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks, like the rest of her. Her left eye was swollen and purple like a big grape, and her lips were dry and cracked as if she hadn't drank any water for days.
Surprisingly, she appeared to be somewhat conscious since her good eye was looking straight at him, and Lucifer couldn't even imagine how she must have been feeling at that moment. She had been crying, the tears mixing with the blood and dirt on her sunken cheeks.
Lucifer could see the fear and desperation in her eye, which was red from all the tears, or possibly from the bleeding too.
She tried to say something, moving her mouth and revealing missing teeth and bleeding gums. However, she could only muster a feeble wheeze. The woman was more than halfway to the grave, and some might even think it a mercy to simply kill her and put her out of her misery.
Lucifer, his face still as stone, knelt down and gently cupped her cheek.
"Do you wish to die?" he asked calmly, staring into her good eye. "Blink once for yes, twice for no." If she said yes, he would put her out of her misery. But if she didn't, he would have to save her.
The question took everyone by surprise, though the thugs were too afraid of Lucifer to dare say anything.
There was a long silence, and Lucifer wondered if the woman had even understood him. He was going to repeat what he had said when she blinked once. Twice. Then she held his gaze, or at least tried to.
"Are you sure?"
Blink.
Lucifer smiled ever so slightly as he got to his feet. "Very well." His gaze shifted to the three men around him who were spaced out about ten feet apart and forming a triangle with the girl, and therefore Lucifer, in the center. Two of the men each had one end of the thick rope that was tied around the girl.
"Who is the leader among you?" asked Lucifer patiently.
The two with the ropes immediately looked at the third, a man with an athletic build and a rough, bearded face with numerous scars. He was the one bringing up the rear and held two daggers in his hands, which meant he was most likely a thief-class fighter.
Lucifer turned and walked right up to him until he was about an arm's length away, not caring at all that the man was armed. He loomed over the man who was several inches shorter and seemed to shrink back at his approach.
"What exactly is happening here?" Lucifer said, unblinking.
The man blinked, opened and closed his mouth, then blinked again. "W-Who... are you?" he managed blurt out with some effort.
Ignoring the question, Lucifer said, "I won't ask a second time." His golden eyes glowed brighter.
The man instinctively took a step back and dropped his gaze down fearfully to Lucifer's boots. "S-She tried t-to run away... th-this slave... our master... o-our master sent u-us... s-sent us to...," he stuttered, unable to finish his sentence.
"I see. And who is your master?"
The man paused for a moment, as if wondering if he should answer that question. The look in Lucifer's eye didn't really give him much choice.
"L-Lord Rubeon... h-he owns the l-land and t-the farms on this s-side..."
Before Lucifer could ask anything else, he felt the faint sensation of something hitting him from behind along with the cracking sound of breaking wood and metal shattering.
Turning his head slightly, he saw in the corner of his eye that one of the other men held the stump of the handle of his weapon. The man stared at the broken remains of his weapon in disbelief, having landed a clean hit on Lucifer's back and yet not leaving a mark.
After berating himself for allowing someone to sneak up on him like that, Lucifer was at least grateful to learn for certain that his armor and defense stats were far superior to these thugs. They were no threat at all.
"That was a mistake," Lucifer stated simply. Turning his body slightly, he flared out one of his wings and smashed it into the man. What happened next was almost comical.
Lucifer didn't think he had put that much force into the movement, but the man was batted away with the sound of breaking bones as if he weighed nothing, screaming as he hurtled through the air and bouncing across the ground heavily somewhere farther into the fields. The crops were high enough that it was impossible to see where exactly the man was and in what condition, not that it mattered in the slightest to Lucifer.
Oops. He needed to practice his control over the amount of force in his blows. He had only meant to knock the man back and on his ass, not send him flying off like that. It wouldn't do in future engagements to accidentally kill someone that he only meant to incapacitate.
Turning back to the rogue in front of him, Lucifer spoke in a more severe tone, "Let that serve as a warning."
Dropping his daggers to the dirt, the man fell to his knees. "P-Please... s-spare u-us..." the man cried, visibly quaking in his boots as he bowed before the winged being, face to the ground. "I'll g-give you a-anything! Anything at all!"
Turning to look at the one other guy, he noted that this man had also dropped his weapon and fallen to his knees in a similar manner, his face frozen in a look of utter disbelief and genuine terror.
Lucifer's gaze settled on the woman, his eyes glowing bright once more as he clenched his fists. When he spoke, the men listened earnestly.
"You will tell me what you know. Depending on what you say, I may let you live."
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It didn't take long before Baziwood and Nimble faced each other in the courtyard, this time with real weapons. Nimble had donned heavier armor this time, the kind used to go into battle, along with a helmet, though the quality of his armor clearly paled in comparison to the Imperial Knight's.
"Do you have what it takes to be an Imperial Knight for the prince, Lord Nimble?" asked Bazi, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck as he spoke.
The man's calm was slightly unnerving to younger warrior, though he tried not to show it. "I think so."
"You think so? Well, sorry to say that ain't gonna cut it," the knight crossed his big armored arms across his chest. He stared straight at the young noble, his head open to the elements as he had decided to forego wearing his helmet.
Nimble crouched low and stretched his legs out, eyeing his opponent but not looking into the big man's eyes. He kept quiet, deciding not to engage in a verbal joust. It was only serving to weaken his own resolve and distract him.
The crowd quieted down, the occasional whisper the only noise coming from those watching.
"Sir Baziwood Peshmel and Lord Nimble Arc Dale Anoch will now face each other in a duel. This duel will end when one party yields or draws first blood!" announced the baron with finality. The old noble then glanced in the direction of Prince Jircniv, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.
The baron turned back to the two combatants in the courtyard below and yelled, "BEGIN!"
Bazi smiled, showing his teeth. "I hope you can help me put on a good show for his highness, the prince."
The big knight unsheathed his sword, prompting Nimble to do the same.
Bazi's sword was slightly longer and thicker than Nimble's, which meant he had a longer reach and each strike would have more power. It was also made of adamantite, whereas Nimble only had a platinum-forged sword, so Bazi didn't have to worry about his weapon durability in this fight. Essentially, the young noble was already at a big disadvantage in terms of equipment alone.
While a regular observer might think that the big knight would be too slow to keep up with the lithe warrior, especially after seeing the young noble handle himself against multiple opponents earlier in the evening, they would be terribly mistaken.
Baziwood Peshmel did not get his title as the Lightning Bolt of the East because he was slow, and Nimble was painfully aware of this fact. He had heard of the older warrior's exploits in the Arena at Oldaven, which was not too far away from the Anoch estate. Though now he wished he had been able to watch some of those fights before so that he might have an inkling as to what to expect now. That had been a few years ago, and undoubtedly the Lightning Bolt of the East had only gotten stronger since then.
This was why Nimble's hands and forehead were already covered with a thin sheen of sweat and he hadn't even made a single move. It was simply fear born out of knowing he was outclassed, and yet honor and a desire to prove himself kept him from conceding without at least putting up a fight. No one expected him to win this duel, least of all himself.
The two combatants watched each other for what seemed an eternity, before Bazi rolled his eyes with disappointment as his relaxed stance began to tense.
"Tch... fine, if you won't come to me, then I guess I'll just have to come to you!" he roared the last part as he ran towards Nimble with astonishing speed for his size. The knight's sword swung in a diagonal slash and Nimble sidestepped and barely managed to dodge, bringing his sword up to defend against the follow-up strike he knew was coming.
Sure enough, their swords met for the first time in a clash of metal that rang across the courtyard.
Nimble stared into the eyes of his opponent. There was a hunger in the bigger man's eyes, a thirst for battle and blood that Nimble sorely lacked.
His arms had been shaken at the strength of the blow, and he strained to push against the bigger man's sword.
"Show me what you've got!" growled the knight, kicking the noble in the gut with the bottom of his boot.
It was meant more to push him off than to actually hurt, but Nimble grimaced all the same from the heavy kick and stumbled back a few steps. Thankfully, he managed to maintain his balance and kept his sword up and ready. That kick was totally unexpected. He wasn't used to fighting someone who could use their legs for offense as well.
Neither one of them had activated martial arts yet, but a betting man would think that Nimble would be the first one to do so in this duel. It was his only chance at victory, and the opening blows were evidence of the fact that while Nimble was skilled with a sword, Bazi was undoubtedly above him.
Bazi went on the offensive once again, slashing forward. This time Nimble was able to jump back out of reach in time. As the sword swung harmlessly in front of him, Nimble lunged forward for an attack of his own.
Much to the noble's surprise, however, Bazi immediately dropped to the ground, following the momentum of his sword, and rolled before getting back on his feet, avoiding Nimble's attack entirely as the noble's sword sliced through air. The knight's sword was already up and moving with its wielder and Nimble was once again busy fending off the knight's quick and heavy strikes.
The adamantite sword flowed into one strike after the other, this time diagonally from below and it was all Nimble could do to parry it as he twisted his body from the motion. On instinct, he initiated a counter-attack by flipping his sword around by the hilt and then thrusting forward, and it almost caught the knight by surprise. Almost.
Bazi managed to redirect the thrust with the very edge of the hilt of his sword, a move only an expert swordsman would have been able to pull off. He took a few steps back and grinned, impressed.
"Hah! Not bad! I gotta admit that was a pretty slick move. I was a bit careless there. It would've worked too if you hadn't been facing someone like me." With that said, the knight pressed forward once more, not giving Nimble any time to catch his breath or even to thank the knight for his compliment.
Nimble pushed his body to move faster, trying hard to stay on his feet as he blocked, dodged, and parried a combination move that ended with Nimble barely blocking a strike that glanced off his helmet.
A gasp erupted from the crowd.
This man's combinations were fairly simple so far, but the speed, strength, and execution of the moves were near perfect.
The knight rounded his blade after the near-miss and swung again, with Nimble meeting it with as much strength as he could muster, their swords pressing against each other in the middle. Neither side made a move for a moment, though they were pressing against each other through their swords. They stared at each other as they each held their ground.
"Are you going to activate your martial arts yet?" the big man asked, his breathing a little heavier than earlier, though it was more akin to him having gone on a jog around the mansion than fighting with swords in a duel.
Gritting his teeth from the exertion of holding back the bigger man, Nimble replied, "You... first."
The knight jumped back to disengage and shook his head, leveling a steely gaze at the young noble. "That stubbornness is going to get you killed one day, you know."
"Shut up and fight!" growled Nimble, getting annoyed at the fact that this man was definitely toying with him. Even though he knew from the beginning that he was outclassed, to think that he wasn't good enough to even warrant the use of martial arts by the knight hurt his pride.
The young noble leaped forward to attack, which the knight expertly deflected and hopped to the side, throwing a roundhouse kick with his front leg as he did so.
Nimble moved his arm down his side and braced himself as the kick connected, jarring his body. Grimacing once again, he managed to stay on his feet as he entered into a few combination attacks of his own. His strikes were quick too, but the knight was able to fend them off with seemingly minimal effort.
"Not bad," Bazi said when they disengaged once more, "But surely you have more."
It was clear that in terms of fighting experience and swordsmanship, the knight was a class or two above Nimble. Even so, the young noble would not concede defeat so easily.
The only way for him to possibly win was to use his martial arts. He knew that. He had been hoping to make a better account of himself in this fight and at least push the knight to use his martial arts first before activating his own, but that scenario now seemed highly unlikely. The knight was right though, his stubborn pride was holding him back and increasing the danger that he was exposing himself to. In a real fight for life or death, that might get him killed.
Focusing inwardly, he channeled his martial arts. "[Flow Acceleration]. [Gale Acceleration]. [Ability Boost]." With each successive art, his body glowed with various colors of energy, and he could feel his physical limits being enhanced, and with it his grip on his sword tightened as his confidence and his strength surged. He could also feel a growing fatigue and strain on his mind as the martial arts exacted their toll for their use.
"Finally taking this seriously, eh?" the knight remarked casually, though he was in a fighting stance as tense as a loaded spring, ready to move at the slightest notice. "Very well. Let me use some too so you don't have all the fun. [Ability Boost]. [Greater Ability Boost]. [Lightning Reflexes]."
Nimble's eyes narrowed as he went into a side stance, bringing his own sword up to eye-level in preparation for his next move.
"[Fierce Wind Slash]!" He sprung forward with insane speed, his sword swinging so quickly it was creating a vortex of wind in its wake. It was one of Nimble's fastest strikes, and yet his strike sliced through thin air, and the cutting wind that he followed with it cut through empty space too.
This was a two-pronged attack: the sword itself would strike the target but a cutting wind would also follow, potentially doing double-damage with one move, but that of course hinged on him actually being accurate with it. He cursed inwardly at having missed.
Bazi had jumped away just far enough to escape harm and immediately lunged into a counter-attack.
Their swords moved at a dizzying speed, and for most of the onlookers it was hard to keep track now that their martial arts were active. Even so, it was still plain to see that Nimble was being pushed around fairly easily by the knight.
The two warriors separated, breathing heavily, though one much more so than the other.
"I'll give you credit, Lord Nimble. This has been a bit more entertaining than I thought," said Bazi with complete honesty in his voice, and a look of newfound respect leveled at Nimble.
The young noble grimaced as he sucked in big gulps of air, "Thanks... you're... really good." His body was shaking from the exertion.
Bazi only grinned that wolfish grin of his. "I think it's time to wrap this up, lord. Let's end this, shall we? Show me your best move right here and now. You've probably only got one shot left in the tank anyway, am I right?"
The knight was correct, annoyingly enough, but Nimble didn't speak. His only reply was to change his stance. If the knight wanted his best move, he'd get his best move.
Everyone was silent as they watched in anticipation for what appeared to be the climax of the match closely.
The two combatants locked eyes.
Nimble shifted ever so slightly forward.
"[Gale Force Flash]!" he cried.
"[Lightning Sword Strike]!" roared Bazi.
There was a massive gust of wind that swept through the courtyard, the epicenter of which was where the two clashed with their final blows, accompanied by the sound of metal hitting metal as the two warriors hurtled towards each other. In the blink of an eye they stood apart and it was over.
Nimble collapsed to the ground, his chest armor was cracked and his shoulder pauldron was almost entirely broken. His exposed shoulder had a gash that wasn't too deep. Blood flowed clearly from the wound, effectively ending the duel. Not that Nimble could continue on anyway in his exhausted state. Thankfully, the cut was only shallow and could be healed easily enough.
For his part, Bazi looked down at the gauntlet of his sword arm and noticed a long thin scratch along the metal from Nimble's strike. He traced it with a finger and his grin widened.
Up above on the balcony, many in the crowd were uncertain how to react to the spectacle they had witnessed.
Prince Jircniv made his way to the baron, the crowd parting and bowing quietly in his wake as he walked through them.
The baron had an unreadable expression as he bowed before the young prince, unable to quite meet his gaze. While he was proud of how far his son had come in terms of fighting skill, to see him so handily defeated like that in his own home and in front of all his guests was surely a bit painful to swallow.
"It appears your knight has won, your highness," remarked the baron carefully.
"Yes, it appears so. Though your son made a good account of himself."
That perked the ears of everyone nearby, and the baron's indifferent mask was broken as a glimmer of hope shone through.
"I'll send for him in a few days," the prince said with finality, not waiting for the baron to say anything. "Now, where's your eldest daughter? I wish to apologize to her personally for causing such a distraction on her special evening."
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AN: Longest chapter so far, but I wanted to be done with these events so I can move on to the next stages/scenes. I'll try to move the plot faster. I realize that sometimes I get so caught up in scenes and conversations that I want to flesh them out probably more than necessary, so I do understand that it can get quite tedious. It's one of my bad traits (I think) as a writer heh but I'm trying to improve! Thanks for sticking with me and for all your reviews and comments :)