Hello Everyone! I hope all of you had an enjoyable Christmas Break!

I know New Years is right around the corner, but I wanted to push this chapter out to keep up with my new time constraints. I will not lie, I have been very busy getting ready for the next year, as well as work and finishing my Warhammer 40k Army. Painting and writing both take time, so I had to weight which was more important to me. I decided on both.

Anyhow, I have a bit more information to let out about this chapter. It's another long one. I tried to end it off earlier, but it didn't feel natural, so I just let it all ride, and even pushed forward parts that could have been in next chapter. I hope it's not too much, but the world must continue to change.

Now, onto more info:

Architect: Artificer Infusions

Artificers have a unique ability which allows them to imbue their magic into items, be it permanent, or temporary. So long as they live, the item will be imbued with magical power. It ranges from enhancement magics, to the creation of magical items, as well as unique skills that can be imparted onto the wielder of the infused item. These require time to imbue into an item, some of which having constraints in regards as to how they are made.

Artificers can only know so many, so this is Architect's list:

Enhanced Defense: Increase Defensive Bonus on an item

Homunculus Servant: Create a manifestation of one's own magic, which can follow your orders and complete tasks for the creator.

Mind Sharpener: Helps the wielder maintain focus on spells, even under pressure/attack.

Repeating Shot: Regardless of the ammunition, a weapon can reload itself with an endless supply of powerful, magical ammunition. The ammo will disappear after hitting or missing the target.

Returning Weapon: This magically enhanced weapon, no matter where the weapon goes, it shall return to the wielder.

Enhanced Arcane Focus: Increase the magical power of an arcane/spell focus for a spellcaster.

Boots of the Winding Path: Allows the wielder to step backwards up to 15 ft (4.5 m), moving to where they once stood before.

Resistance Armor: Allows the wielder to be more defensive against a certain type of damage. Anything from Fire/Heat to Necrotic/Rot.

Item Replication: Winged Boots

Item Replication: Amulet of Health

Item Replication: Sending Stones

Item Replication: Eyes of the Eagle

With those out of the way, let us move forward with this story! I hope you all enjoy the continuation of what is to come.

Chapter 4: From Where Heroes Come

(Castle Town, Throne Room of Melromarc Palace)

The walls were lined with trim of gold, white washed walls pristine and kempt. Tall ceilings arched over the heads of all who entered. The filigree and patterns framing the interior of Castle Town's Palace was unlike any other building in the city, save for the Three Heroes Church Cathedral.

Sun shined through the open glass windows, illuminating the long hall that graced the path which led to the thrones. Opulent doors hung on massive frames, the weight of luxury wood holding steadfast to the sturdy hinges.

The Palace was home to the most noble of Melromarc: Queen Mirelia Melromarc herself. As the matriarch of the land, her duty was to the people who fell under her banner, acting and enforcing her rule as the monarch of the queendom. Within this building was also the home of her family. Her daughters Malty and Melty both lived there at the height of society, their status well known to the common people. The former often took advantage of it more often than the latter.

Finally was the 'King', who married into his power as the secondary ruler to the land. While his daughters presumably held the title of 'Monarch' while his dear wife worked outside of Melromarc, it made more sense to the populace to allow the King to establish himself as leader while the Queen was departed. Coupled with the death of the appointed leadership that was Lord Seatto, it only made sense for the Queen's own lover to take up the role.

King Aultcray Melromarc the XXXII sat upon the throne adjacent to the Queen's. His elbow pressed against the arm rest at his left side, weighting itself upon it. His eyes were cool and uncaring on the outside, but internally, he had been waiting for this report for quite some time. The soldiers clattered forward in their armor, both of them looking up at the ruler of Melromarc with trepidation.

Both pairs of metal boots ceased, clicking together in unison. The soldiers bowed deeply to Aultcray, who's features remain unchanged.

"Report." The soldiers nodded, pulling themselves from their deep bows before looking up.

"King Aultcray Melromarc XXXII, Company XIV was dispatched 7 days ago at your request to travel to Lurolona Village. Led by Sergeant Alderforth Karrow, they made their journey within a day and a half's time. Based on estimations from tracking, and the stops they made to other villages, they reached the demi-human village between 5-6 days ago." The soldier on the right stated with full clarity.

Aultcray narrowed his eyes. "And what of their mission? Were they able to complete what was set out for them?" Both soldiers seemed to shrink up on themselves.

"My King..." The soldier on the left held firm, though the shake of their voice betrayed them. "Upon reaching the edge of Lurolona, Company XIV disappeared."

"What?"

"All traces of them were gone. No equipment, no blood trails, no reports or bodies." The soldier on the left continued.

King Aultcray let an angered expression take his face. "And what of the village?" He demanded, to which the right soldier gulped.

"M-My King. We reached the village approximately 2 days ago before coming back here. Based on what we saw, they seemed to have nearly completed reconstruction of the village."

"Not only that, My King." The left soldier cut off his partner. "It seems they have developed defenses. They had some type of barrier wrapping around the village. Watchtowers lit with torches give light to their locations as well."

"And did you set about the destruction of these 'defenses?'" The King looked upon the soldiers with disdain. His irritation only grew when both bowed their heads in silence. "Anything else?! Or are you done with your failure of a report?"

The soldier on the right shook his head. "Other than a night traveler or two, the travel to and fro was standard. No high level monsters to be spotted, and no tracks. Once the Company made it closer to the village, the thick grass of the land ate up any footprints that we could determine, traveling in or out."

"Then if you have nothing useful to state, leave. Consider your mission a failure." Both soldiers cringed at the statement, understanding what was to come from this. 'Failure' of such missions were not well tolerated within Melromarc. Regardless, they bowed their heads to the King, quickly making their way out of the Throne Room before the King would decide to make it worse upon them.

The doors slammed shut with their exit, and King Aultcray grit his teeth at the prospects of what was to come. His hands gripped around the front of his armrests before he relented. He brought a hand to his forehead, leaning forward in his throne. His mind began to work, trying to come up with answers to questions that made little sense.

'Those filthy demis have to be responsible, I'm sure of it! I should send out another Company to rid them of the world, perhaps even a whole BATALLION! Add in some magic and those worthless mutts will be dead within a few moments. Slavery is too good for them now!' Aultcray sucked in a breath, holding it for a few moments. His blood pressure slowly returned to a lower state, though his anger did not wane. His more logical mind came forward by force, trying to knock against the possibly poor decision making that could come from recklessness. He let out a deep breath. "But if I scramble another company to attack them, they would possibly disappear as well. If I send a larger force, nobility would ask why. Then I would have to explain how a bunch of worthless mongrels killed Melromarc's finest! No, this puts me in a unique position. Sending more soldiers is not a way to insight change for the better, even if I would enjoy it.'

Aultcray leaned back into his throne. 'If that village is truly that strong, then employing some adventurers or mercenaries to deal with them would be more simple. Involving a form of commission would also inspire those in the slaving industry to get involved...but if they are not clean about the job, then another kingdom may hear about it and cause commotion. No, that can't happen either, especially with what is being planned for the near future.'

King Aultcray scratched at his chin, upset about the entire situation. His teeth grit together unhealthily.

'I just don't understand how this could have happened. With the death of Lord Seatto and his family, the next step was simple and efficient to complete. The people of the village were weak, I know of that! Any of those who may have been strong would have surely died protecting their worthless kind during the Wave.' Aultcray sighed to himself. 'Not only that, but this 'barrier' and watchtowers. How were they able to build up those types of defenses so quickly? Did more survive than anticipated?' Aultcray's eyes widened.

'That's it! They must have had some type of spellcaster! Most likely an Earth based one as well, with the cover up of evidence and the barriers. It only made sense!' Aultcray looked up from his opulent throne, his eyes calculating the prospects of what was to come.

'But there were never reports of a spellcaster within Lurolona village...so where did they come from?'

Tsairaah looked up at the sun high in the sky, the heat of the day warming the cloak that wrapped over his armor. Exothermic feelings were not too familiar to him, but he could still correlate the increase in temperature to the sensation that he was experiencing.

His feet, clad in heavy armor, left heavy marks where he stepped, overshadowing the wheel treads of carts and the trots of horses. The dirt path had been going for quite some time, the travel being continuous and slow.

Tsairaah had rested not too long ago, preferring to camp out during the day then traveling during the end of evening and into the night. However, some suspicious mounted soldiers had crossed his path the night before, so he decided to switch up his movement. If soldiers were to travel towards Lurolona, they would be more active during the day.

He had yet to see any more troops, but he remained vigilant. This path had been pretty lackluster, to say the least. It seemed as though very few traveled the roads that led to Lurolona, be it for trade or tourism. The village was isolated from the very kingdom they lived within, which did not spell a good story for everything he already knew of.

Coming up over a hill, Tsairaah vision is graced with not just trees and more pathway. Instead, he looks upon a river not more than a few hundred meters from him. He takes in the sight, the running of the water sweeping through the area. It travels slowly down the edge of hills and carved out valleys. A small bridge connects the two sides of land to each other, continuing the dirt pathway deeper into the mountainous region.

He narrows his sights on the distance, the glint of light reflecting. Past the river and around the bend of a few mountain paths, there is the reflection of light from windows or metal. He can't make out much else.

Looking down at his map, he takes note of the journey he has been on, and nods his head. 'So, that must be Lerno Village.' He supplies himself. Pulling a writing utensil from the pack provided to him, he begins to sketch upon the map, creating a rough estimation of distances between lands. Noting numbers, travel times, and how long he has traveled, he infers his current position in relation to the rest of Melromarc. 'This map may not be fully accurate either. I'll have to keep notes for the future.' He tucks away the paper, taking steps down the hill and towards his next destination.

The sun's rays glistened over the edge of windows, the light glowing brilliantly into the home and shops that littered the streets. People chattered back and forth with one another, some having stopped in the streets while others making their way either to work or to socialize for their day. Larger buildings shadowed out small alleys, giving opportunity for citizens to try and hide away from the harsh heat that enveloped them from the sky.

Lerno Village, just from its appearance, seemed to be much better off than Lurolona. Many of the buildings were constructed with brick and stone, some given even more beauty with filigree and ornate patterns traced into the columns and entryways. The clothing of the people seemed to be loose fitting and casual, made for the weather of the area, while not bestowing an appearance of peasantry.

Carts and Travelers seemed to be sparse, with but a few horses and... strange bird-like creatures set in front of what looked to be the inn of the town. Overall, it was all information to be stowed away for the future.

Tsairaah walked softly...as softly as he could, that is. He took action to grace his steps with less impact, disguising the level of equipment he was adorned in. He maintained his weight center, allowing for the still air to keep his cloak firmly on his form. A hood covered his head, lowering his perception but increasing his stealth for such a situation.

It did little for his appearance, unfortunately. Even with his attempts, he could see people within the town looking to him, some casting sideways glances at him, while others narrowed their eyes at his general direction. More than likely, they thought him a beggar or bandit. His height certainly did not help. 'Perhaps I could have had my body changed before all of this. It may have helped with conspicuousness. Then again, I did not get much of an opportunity due to my unforeseen departure from Pannoth.' He maintained a slow movement into the village, looking at signs with slight dismay.

During discussions with the Elders of Lurolona, Tsairaah had been told his understanding of their language was a benefit to himself and others of the land. To speak Castellan, or as they called it, 'Melromarcian', meant communication with people within the country would be easier. However, it seemed the only translatable language was Castellan, and just the spoken tongue. It left Tsairaah with a rather large problem:

Tsairaah could not read their script.

His gaze trailed from building to building, trying to get visual on the appearance of signs or symbolism to represent the industry of certain stores. His armor clattered softly under his cloak, the warmth brushing through the material and allowing heat to hit the freshly forged metal.

Tsairaah traveled towards a sign that looked to be an ax and hammer layered overtop one another. It hung from a small chain, which was attached to a wooden frame of a doorway. Looking into the window of the establishment, he could see a varying amount of supplies, mainly that of simple tools and home needs equipment. 'It would not hurt to look for torches, pitch, and metal.' Walking to the door, he gently pressed against the handle, noting that it did not push inwards. He pulled the handle in his direction, the unlocked door signaling to the business that continued within.

Walking in, he looked around at the walls and the racks that laid about. Objects ranged from tents, to bedrolls, to ropes and wooden fishing poles, as well as traveler's packs/equipment. Perhaps the shop specialized in expedition equipment, though there were also work tools and differing farm objects as well within and on the walls.

Tsairaah walked over to the counter, looking over some of the tools they had on hand. His eyes shifted from tool to tool, looking not at the equipment itself, but what they were made of.

'This metal...it doesn't appear to be iron, or even a type of steel. It may be the same material that my armor is made of. The elder called it 'Light Metal', but that could only mean that it is a type of alloy. It's not sturdy enough to be steel, but doesn't waver like bronze either. More flexible than iron and tungsten. Perhaps it is similar to that metal... Cobalt, I believe it was called. It was recently discovered in the regions past Lord's Landing. Maybe it is mixed with that.'

A shift of movement at his flank alerted Tsairaah to another presence. "If you're going to browse, you better have coin. I don't sell to hagglers, and nor do I give away to beggars." The voice was gruff, despite the lack of years on the face. The figure was slightly short and stocky. A young man, though his face was obscured by a well grown beard, black in color. His hair was pulled back by a bandana. His clothes were just like the others of the town, loose, but practical and of good quality, being a soft beige shirt and a set of brown pants which reached down to leather boots.

"Good day, sir." Tsairaah stated, pulling away from the counter. "I was looking at the objects within your store. I am traveling through the region right now, journeying towards Castle Town at the current moment. However, I was needing a few things and noted your store." The young shopkeeper seemed to appraise the larger figure, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Do you have any coin?"

"...No."

The shopkeeper huffed, eyes narrowed. "Then how you thinking about paying then, huh?" The man leaned against the wall, close to the door. Tsairaah's eyes watched as his hand laced around the handle of a larger looking hammer near the entrance. "You're not thinking about stealing, are you? I've never fought someone your size before, but there are firsts for everything."

Tsairaah raised his hands in surrender. "I have no intention of robbing your establishment. I have no coin, but I had hoped that perhaps some trading would benefit us."

The shopkeeper seemed to pause. "What kind of trade?"

"Either goods or services. I have experience in certain fields, should you require it for your store or home. That, or I could trade items I carry. Small weapons, rations, clothing, or metal scrap."

Tsairaah watched as the man listened to his words, naming off his items one by one. No interest seemed to spark in the man's eyes at the offer of work. Weapons made a darker look appear on his face...but the statement of 'rations' caught Tsairaah's insight. The man shifted the slightest bit at that word, his gaze shifting.

Tsairaah shifted his cloak over himself, making sure to keep his face hidden as best he could. "If none of these are of note to you, I will be on my way, sir. Good day onto you." Heavy steps trailed towards the entrance.

"Wait." The shopkeeper pushed off the wall, looking over the tall customer in his shop. "What kind of rations do you have?"

"They all contain the same thing: Bread, Some Dried Meat, Whole Fruits and Berries, and Broths for Soup."

"How many, and how big?"

"About half a kilogram each, and 4 of them."

The shopkeeper looked around at his wares. "What do you want to trade?"

"A set of thick cord rope, a pick, and a pack of tar pitch. Two rations."

"You'll get your rope and a pick for three."

"The thick cord rope and the tar for two, the pick for one."

"The tar pitch and rope for four."

"Throw in the pick, and you have a deal."

"I'll agree, only if you take off your hood and show me who you are."

"Deal." The two men shook hands, the metallic gauntlet fastening over the callous hand, both firm in their fields.

The shopkeeper watched as the man crouched down, bringing a bag from his shoulder to his vision. The slightly stained cloak draped over most of his figure, but he could connect a few dots, just from meeting the stranger so far. Whether it was the large pair of metal boots, to the gauntlets on his arms. His cloak shifted over as he crouched over the pack, revealing more unsmoothed armor where his ribs were. His arm also seemed to be layered with something as well, like that of an extended piece of armor, or a shield. More than likely, a shield, in the shopkeeper's mind.

His mind went to the prospects of a warrior, or perhaps a mercenary/gladiator from Zeltoble. The idea of some kind of surviving soldier, drifting through Lerno Village. It was ominous to the shopkeeper.

As he grabbed over a mining pick from the back of his wall displays, his eyes moved back to the man, who had pulled away from his pack. In his hands were four wrapped packages, unopened and folded within parchment. His eyes went to the closing bag, not seeing much food left within the bag, if any. He brushed it aside though, placing the thick rope cord, the pitch tar bottle, and the pick on the counter. 'As if a man would barter away all of his food.'

Both men then inspected each other's items, the shopkeeper looking at the container filled with broth, the berries preserved and wrapped, and the bread not molded or staled. Tsairaah looked at the pick, noting the sharp edge and the sturdiness of the handle. He experimentally pulled against the rope, testing the strength. Both men nodded.

"Before I depart. I must ask." Tsairaah began, his words sitting in the air. "Why were you interested in bartering food, of all things? Much less food from someone who looks like myself?"

The shopkeeper looked at the man, whose cloak still obscured his face. Light tried to lay claim to whatever was in the shadows, but not enough to give the shopkeeper true insight as to what lay under. The figure was interesting to him, and for some reason... he felt as though the man was not here to cause mayhem of any kind. Despite his appearance, he was soft spoken, stoic, and controlled in his movements. The stranger could also read him pretty well, but he used that knowledge to both their benefit. 'Hell...if he knew how bad it really was, he could have pushed me to sell all of that for half the amount of food...but he didn't really. Even though he made me haggle, it wasn't a bad deal...even if we weren't in a near famine.'

The shopkeeper slid the now sealed packs of food back towards himself, placing them all in a drawer on his side of the counter. "Crops didn't do well this year, just like the last. Most livestock has been eaten up to make up for lack of vegetation, which makes it worse. Crops aren't growing around here, despite the rain and foliage around." The shopkeeper thought about his son, and how food was getting more and more expensive. Especially from all the merchants who knowingly charge higher prices because they can. Hell, he was lucky his son would now have food for the next few days, maybe a week if he rationed it right.

"The farmers don't know what to do about it. Because of the livestock problem, we have no manure to fertilize the lands either." The stranger picked up his things and placed them into his bag, sliding the backpack onto his shoulders. His gaze then trailed to the shopkeeper once more.

"Then perhaps I could be of some assistance." The shopkeeper's eyebrow quirked up..

"Oh really? And why is that?" He leaned forward onto the counter, appraising the cloaked man. The shopkeeper, however, was not prepared for when the hood came off, the material brushed away to reveal the face and shoulders of the figure. Or rather, the thick armor that covered it. Buffed and unpolished layers of armor glanced the sunlight off of them, the anonymous piece of the Barbuta only allowing a pair of eye holes to gaze back at the shopkeeper.

"Because that is what heroes do." He leaned forward, his shadow dwarfing the shopkeeper's form. "Now, tell me what happened."

Tsairaah walked along the edge of the town, looking over the farmlands off the side of the community. Long stretches of land, un-treated, and lacking large growths of vegetation. While by no means dry, the land looked barren, save for some lucky weeds that managed to pilfer what nutrients were in the soil.

Cloak over his head, he traveled with slow steps, further from the wandering eyes of the village. Farmers that worked about did not seem to pay him mind as he passed between the stretches of 'unusable' property. His large form turned eyes still, but much more focus seemed to be on the crops, or lack thereof.

Tsairaah looked to the soil near his feet, allowing his feet to slowly list his form to the edge of the farmland. He kneeled down, pulling out his newly bought pickaxe from his waist. Looking behind himself before doing so, he pounded the broad end into the ground. His strength punched through the unsupported ground. Craning his arm, he wretched up soil and dirt, letting his eyes examine the contents of what was underground.

The dirt was damp, but not drenched from his observation. However, it was also pale in color, and seemed to have very little activity within. No bugs frolicking through the soil, no worms, no germinating fungus or clumps of nutrients. He did not know much about botany, but the ground looked...bland.

"The ground underneath our feet holds more adventures than we can imagine. The exploits of nature happen everyday, and we walk beside it and right overtop of it." Lyell's words reverberated in his mechanical mind.

Shoving the dirt back into the hole, he stood up and began to walk forward once more. Swinging his pickaxe over his shoulder, his eyes glanced around to the farmers not too far away. Some were hoeing the uneven grounds, others laying seeds in hopes of countering the bad soil with good luck. There was even a trio of men attempting to pull a plow through the land, attempting to upheave the ground to give way for more strips of land that could bear fruit.

(Flashback)

"So you lack fertilizer?" Tsairaah asked, taking in the words as he looked towards the edge of the village farmlands.

"Yeah. Hard to buy because other villages are trying to feed their own people. Can't feed your kids with gold, after all." The shopkeeper looked away, placing his elbow on the counter.

"Why not produce your own. I'm sure your farmers can use livestock manure to produce some. Fertilizer, while very important, is not hard to make if you have well fed animals."

The shopkeeper huffed a laugh. "You're right. The people of Lerno made our own fertilizer and tended our own farm regions for years. We know some great recipes to help cultivate rich harvests...but you need livestock to make any of them. We have none."

"No livestock?" If Tsairaah had eyebrows, they would have shot up at the surprising statement.

The shopkeeper shook his head, frustration evident on his face. "None. Because of a harsh winter about two years ago, we resorted to eating a few more cattle and goats than intended. It led to a shortage of milk and cheeses the next year. Coupled with a bad blizzard killing some of the breeders, it ended up being one of our worst years of breeding." The shopkeeper shook his head solemnly. "It got so bad we were forced to eat the remaining livestock we had. Winter is far from here, but we're already set up for failure."

"What about buying in more?"

"We tried, but the merchants that travel here have ridiculous prices on any type of livestock. If people in Lerno goes elsewhere to buy some, say to Riyute or to the Rabier Territories, they more often than not get robbed by bandits on the way. Merchants don't seem to deal with the same issues as us, using the roads that is."

"Nothing is left? No remaining females to breed, or ones that can produce milk?" Tsairaah was trying to piece together how such a terrible situation could occur. "What about work animals? Any oxen or horses that can help with the farming processes?"

The shopkeeper bit the inside of his mouth. "None, absolutely none left." He let the words grind their way from his teeth. He knew he could get in trouble for it, but cared little at this point. "Melromarcian soldiers traveled through here and collected all of our horses. Said they needed them for some 'expedition' to deal with a Wave of Calamity. Our mayor agreed, believing they would return them when they traveled back through here. That was about a week ago." The shopkeeper's knuckles turned white, anger slipping onto his face. "I doubt they would have returned them anyway. I saw them hitch them up to some kind of prison carts, which meant they would probably be taking them all the way back to Castle Town. I doubt they would give us 'lowly village folk' courtesy to return what was ours after they were done, much less in decent condition."

(Flashback Over)

Tsairaah shook his head, looking up from the barren and un-growing lands around Lerno village. His mind danced with ideas on what to do, as well as what was at his disposal for his next big task. 'I owe it to these people to aid in their struggles. Even if the likelihood that the soldiers would return to horses was low, it did not mean zero. I must account for that, and how my actions have been a detriment to Lerno village.'

Tsairaah made his way out to the edge of the village, passing by the large stretches of unfarmed/poorly growing crops. He had a new goal in mind, and this one would require a bit more finesse than the first.

(Four Days Later)

"It's a good thing I ran into you in Lerno." A chipper voice spoke up from behind the reins. The young man, more than likely not older than his mid 20s, looked to the flank of the cart. His smile grew as he looked over to his impressively sized guard, who walked right beside his cargo.

Tsairaah looked over to the man on the cart, then back to the small assortment of animals that were held within a cage cart. The assortment of small herding animals, mainly goats and sheep, had been bought up by a seller in Riyute. It was at this same village that Tsairaah managed to find someone to rent out their horses to the young man, Weslen, for their travel back to Lerno.

Tsairaah looked to the young man in question, who every so often eyed him with a pique of interest. Though his eyes were more trained on the road, which began to wind and bend as they neared the rockier terrain that were more towards Lerno village.

Tsairaah's vision trailed to the roads with more intent, perception noting anything specific. He stared to the upper cliffs of the mountains above their heads, which gave coverage from the warmth that the sun shone upon the day. Beams of light shot from the uneven layers of rock and grasses that were layered on the peaks of the ranges.

Heavy thuds from his steps maintained movement alongside the clattering of wooden wheels. The bleating of sheep in the back bounced around the rocky formations, giving them no stealth upon their travels. Tsairaah continued to let his focus trail around the edges of the roads, every so often looking back at where they had already traveled.

Then he heard it. Overshadowed by the cries of animals, and the sounds of his own marching.

"So, what made you decide to help me out?" Weslen asked, watching the pathway as they rounded the edge of a hill. "I know some people in town talk about me in a negative light, especially after what happened last winter and the trolley of goats that escaped."

"Those are the exact reasons why I chose you." Weslen was taken aback by the statement, the deep words cutting through the white noise. "Because of your naivety and recklessness. Coupled with your desperation to prove yourself as not a burden on your people." The helmeted head turned to look over at the young man at the reins. "It made you perfect for this mission."

Weslen stared wide eyed back at the 'bodyguard'. "W-What mission? Y-You mean getting the livestock, r-right?"

A small shift of rock bounced down from the peaks of the hills, clattering to the trail floors. Weslen didn't notice, nor did any of his animals.

Tsairaah looked away from the cart, his head ducking down into his chest. His hands began to move through symbols and actions, small gestures winding around each other as his voice whispered between metal upon his head. The sun was completely obscured on the piece of road that they inhabited, overshadowed by a range of stone peaks that hid many secrets.

"H-Hey!" Weslen pulled on the reins, signaling for the horses to stop. The clamoring of livestock within the caged off cart behind him screamed and hollered. "What did you set me up for?! What kind of mission did you throw me into!?" He stood up from his seat, a nervous glare firm upon the cloaked individual not a few feet from him.

The armored individual stopped walking forward, his hands going through a few movements before they ceased as well. His mutterings came to a close, his body and action becoming still. The two did not move.

It made them a perfect target.

"What Kind of Missi-!"

"NOW!" Cut through the air, breaking through Weslen's words.

Light captured the forms of over a dozen men, who stood up from the tops of the mountain peaks. On cue, they let loose their ammunition, arrows and crossbow bolts shooting through the air upon command. The projectiles whipped through the air, all aimed upon their target with the intent to kill.

Weslen looked up from Tsairaah, his eyes catching the figures looming high above him, as well as the arrows and bolts that were aimed right at him. He tucked in on himself, his arms moving to cover his face in a desperate attempt to save himself from death. He closed his eyes, awaiting the pain that would come from the onslaught.

"Dos Di Inhelk (Wall of Stone)!" Deep words reverberated through the air, an echo accompanying the phrase as magic sounded through the sky. A pair of hands thrust towards the cart and all occupants.

Weslen, who had expected the pain that came from being skewered, waited with baited breath. His eyes were shut tight, seconds feeling like hours in his mind as he thought about his life. Why he decided to do such a risky journey, knowing about the bandits. The shifty looking guard. Everything!

'Thunk''Thunk''Thunk''Thunk''Thunk''Thunk''Thunk''Thunk''Thunk''Thunk''Thunk''Thunk''Thunk''Thunk''Thunk'

Weslen cringed, the sounds of metal impacting. He shivered in his spot, the horses crying out in terror, the livestock losing their minds behind him.

He waited. . . . for the pain to finally take his form. . .

He waited. . .

Waited. . . .

No pain came.

Weslen opened his eyes, only for darkness to disallow him his sight. His eyes slowly adjusted, slowly taking in the formation around him, and the surroundings. The lack of arrows in his body, and the fact that he was completely unharmed. His head darted around, trying to figure out what just happened. 'Am I dead? Is this some kind of last moment before I pass on?'

"I trust that you are fine, Weslen." Said young man, jolted back in surprise, nearly falling from his seat on the cart. "This is your bodyguard. I have secured your safety for the time being with a Wall of Stone.

"Sit tight and allow me to clean up the mess that was waiting for us." Tsairaah finished his use of the (Message) spell, looking around to the surrounding forces that wrapped around him.

Archers and Rangers were prepared for another volley, hanging over his head from the mountains above. Mercenaries/Bandits of all shapes and sizes formed a circle around Tsairaah and the massive Wall of Stone that he summoned up from the ground. Overall, in terms of numbers, he would put them at around sixty at most.

"What kind of crap is this?!"

"I didn't know we would be up against a spellcaster!"

"He looks more like a knight to me. But where's his sword?"

"I think we can take him, he doesn't look that strong!"

"He got lucky with that stone barrier of his. No doubt once he's dead, it'll fall!"

Tsairaah let his vision trail from figure to figure, weighting them out in terms of danger. Whether they would be too much of a hassle for him, or if there might be some among them that were strong. So far, he wasn't that impressed.

A larger man waltzed through the pack of hollering bandits, a sinister grin upon his face. He looked over the knight with interest, curious as to how someone from Lerno could afford someone like this. 'Either they paid him a bunch and he's got good money on him, he's cheap because he's a fake, or he was hired by a different merchant company to get product into Lerno.' The large bandit hefted a battle axe over his shoulder. 'Regardless, my job is clear. Make sure none get through.'

"Hey, you!" The bandit took several steps forward, positioning himself in front of the strange bodyguard. "I'll give you one chance. Drop the spell and let us have the vendor you got in there, otherwise this'll get ugly." Snickering and the clattering of weapons sounded through the air, imposing themselves onto the lone armored figure.

"Are you the leader of this group?" The bandit smirked.

"If I am?" The lone knight just seemed to mull over those words, before looking around at the collection of men that surrounded his form. He then looked to the bandit leader, no expression upon his features.

"This will not take long then." The bandit leader narrowed his eyes at the knight. He raised an arm into the air. 'Should have taken my offer. I would have killed your ass quickly.'

The archers atop the mountain pulled their bows back, seeing the raised arm from their leader. Over a dozen more arrows flew through the air, searing through the air towards the unmoving target.

Tsairaah let a burst of magic escape his armor. A pulse of green energy took up all the grooves of his form, shaping around his chest, arms, legs, head, and shield. 'Defensive Matrix' He uttered in his own mind, taking up his repaired shield and holding it to the sky. No sooner than he did, arrows struck into his defense. Projectiles clanged, deflecting off of the armor he wore. The few that managed to find a chink in the armor, were forced away by a barrier of green magic, not allowing any of the attacks harm him.

The bandits watched with shock as the arrows did nothing to the man. However, many were unperturbed by the lack of success in the first strike. A man raised a hatchet into the air. "Kill him!" At these words, the horde of bandits clamored towards their prey, intent on slaughtering him before he could retaliate.

It was due to their own loud shouting that none could hear him begin to mutter under his breath once more.

Dozens pushed forward, hoping their superior numbers should weigh down upon the man before he could respond. Blades and weapons struck at armor wherever they could reach, slamming against plates of alloy. Many bounced off the defense, some denting and damaging the armor, but none managing to pierce through. Some which came close were also deflected by the same green barrier, which seemed to grow weaker the more attacks were made at the knights' weak spots.

The bandit leader watched with a bit of amusement and disappointment. The knight seemed dangerous, but seemed to be all defense. He was also slow to the charge from all of the men. Even if he had impressive armor, the bandit leader doubted that such a man could overpower the weight of nearly 20 men pressuring on his form from all sides.

His eyes looked to the barrier concocted by the knight, looking over the thickness. Even if it stayed after the knight's death, he had a few men with hammers that would work to tear it down. It may take some time, but it was better than letting the tradesmen make it back to Lerno. The merchant would not be happy if they let someone slip through the crac-

"Svantraakul Pacore (Thunderwave Maxima)!" *BOOM!*

The bandit leader looked back to his men in haste, only to stare in dread.

Bodies were set every which direction, flying through the air. Some shot into the sky, others launching into the mountains or the summoned wall a few meters from the knight. Blood splattered across the ground, erupted bodies collapsing upon making contact with the floor. The bandit leader was forced to catch a man as he was sent flying in his direction. Turning the body around to look at the damage, he was mortified by what he saw.

The whole of the man's face was caved in, the force of whatever ability was casted having shattered his face and sending it backward into his own skull. His body was a mess of hemorrhaged blood and guts. The bandit leader dropped the corpse to the ground, looking around at the massacre, then back to the knight.

Those who were too far from the blast radius, lucky as they were, stared at the bodyguard in terror. His armor no longer glowed, covered in new, small dings and dents. However, he stood, covered in blood and remnants of the men who tried to kill him moments ago.

A daring man, just having seen his friend killed by the explosion, charged forward in fury. His swords firmly in both hands. He jumped from the ground, blade prepped for swings right at the neck of the knight.

To his surprise, a massive shield placed itself in his path, blocking the wide arc swings of both weapons, before thrusting forward and knocking him backward. He slammed to the ground, his breath knocked from his chest as he coughed out in pain. It was not over for him though, as a force seemed to rip into his form. A magic presence gripped at his body, flinging him towards the outstretched hand of the knight.

The hand craned back as the bandit continued to fly towards him, the vibrating power of it shaking the wind around it. Trying to bring his blade forward to block, the knight's fist drove into the midsection of the bandit, breaking the handles of his weapons. Bones shattered, and blood spilled from his mouth for a final time as he was sent careening back once more.

The knight looked around at the bandits, before staring at the bandit leader himself. "It is a good thing that you did not charge at me as well." His hand seemed to cackle with magical power, his focus squarely on the now shaking man. "After all, I need you alive after all of this is over."

(Dark Room, Melromarc)

A bright light enveloped the runes and carving upon the floor, magic flowing out from the bodies of several priests. They continued to chant the long-winded spell, placing their intent into each syllable. The rings of golden light shone throughout the secret room, etching and patterns glowing as the spell permeated into dimensions far away.

The priests laced their words together in harmony, the one at the front taking up the most control over the summoning. His words echoed on the stone walls, almost shaking the foundations with the amount of power he placed forward. The runes and carvings seemed to shine brighter, almost hot to the touch as the final incantations were spoken.

The gold began to fade into shimmering blue and white, the large circle rippling ever so slightly. The priests looked up from the floor, glee filling their faces as the visages began to form.

Four figures began to appear from nothingness. Golden energy wrapped around the shadowy wisps, as if pulling them away from the grasp of death itself. Except for one, which seemed to glow a soft white before being surrounded with the same gold magic. Key appearances began to become more intact, long hair forming on the head of one, the formation of clothing upon bodies, and the color of skin developing from the figures.

Finally, the glow formed around their arms, one forming a long handle, attached to the long bladed tip of ambient energy. A long blade found itself wrapped in the hand of another, and a golden bow shimmered into the grip of the one on the far side of the four. Finally, a green energy formed into a simple shape, a block of magic developing onto the arm of the last one before glowing gold like the rest.

The magic seemed to wither away as the last of the spell was complete. The priests looked on in awe, their desires having come to fruition. The four figures stood tall before their kneeling forms, each wearing otherworldly clothing and looking around with perplexity. Their young faces were full of confusion.

The head priest kneeled before the saviors.

The Four Cardinal Heroes.

"Oh, Please Brave Heroes! Our world is in dire need of saving!"

(End Chapter)

Svantraakul Pacore: Thunderwave Maxima, an outward explosion of thunderous magic, which knocks back surrounding targets and exudes a force of intense energy upon their bodies.

I hope you all stick around for the next chapter. Let me know what you think, and if you have any comments or concerns. Thank you for reading, and I'll see you soon!