Edwin, on the other hand, bore the mark of a seasoned adventurer. His rugged leather sandals looked as though they had traversed countless terrains.
A flowing, weathered cloak hung from his shoulders, and beneath it, he wore a simple ensemble akin to that of a lowborn or a humble slave—a regular pair of pants and a shirt, both showing signs of their age and use. His attire was adorned with various pouches and pockets.
Edwin's weapon of choice was a finely crafted staff, its surface engraved with symbols that hinted at its connection to the Chruch of Storm. It had seen its fair share of battles, bearing the scars and marks of countless encounters.
They exchanged greetings, and Edwin wasted no time in briefing Marcellus on the plan for the day.
They would head to the mountains to locate the Hollow Serpent, a creature with mystical properties. It was an urgent mission, as the serpent's blood was necessary.
They had only delayed it until Ralf could become a Sailor. Martia couldn't take on this formidable creature alone, even with the reinforcement of regular second-rate warriors. Even first-rate warriors would only make a small difference.
The original plan had involved Martia, Ralf, and some other men from the governor's team heading to confront the serpent.
However, this plan would undoubtedly result in the death of some men and precious fighting forces, which the island could ill afford to lose.
Priest Corwin, steadfast Stormseeker bound by sacred oaths to the chapel hold, might well have taken his place among the gathered, but the church demands at least one Stormseeker within the chapel hold. Thus, he remains, without the express command of a higher echelon of the liturgy this rule cannot be broken.
Just as Marcellus was listening to Edwin, Martia joined the trio. She was dressed similarly to Marcellus, wearing a dark cloak with a hood that billowed lightly in the breeze.
In her hands, she held a sheathed longsword, its pommel gleaming ominously in the dappled sunlight filtering through the buildings, as the sun hadn't yet reached its zenith in the sky.
"Ah, we're just thrilled you decided to join us," Edwin remarked with heavy sarcasm.
"You might have missed the rundown, but of course, you're already well-acquainted with how these things usually go."
Martia paid no heed to Edwin's sarcasm and instead fixed her gaze on each member of the group, her scrutiny lingering a moment longer on Marcellus as if she were inspecting them all, searching for something beneath the surface.
She then turned her gaze back to Edwin and questioned, "You're going to let him fight with that?" Her finger pointed accusingly at Marcellus' cutlass-like sword, drawing everyone's attention to it.
As the group's collective gaze fell upon Marcellus' cutlass-like sword, he couldn't help but feel a pang of self-consciousness. The weapon was a far cry from the finely crafted swords, that was why he got it to save money.
Edwin, with a hint of annoyance, replied, "It's escaped my mind. Besides, he's no stranger to using it."
Martia's expression remained sceptical, and she responded tersely, "Let's not waste any more time."
Edwin quickly went back into the house to fetch what appeared to be a better sword. Marcellus couldn't help but voice his curiosity, "I'm not ungrateful, but what's wrong with my sword?"
Ralf couldn't contain a chuckle and replied, "You're a greenhorn through and through."
Martia shot Ralf a passive, condescending glance. "I imagine you've gotten away with fighting with junk like that because you haven't faced someone of better or similar skill. While your battle aura might increase the durability of weapons, it's still based on the underlying weapon. Actions speak louder than words; take out your blade," she challenged.
Marcellus and Martia unsheathed their weapons. Ralf took a hesitant step back, realizing the gravity of Martia's challenge.
Without further ado, she declared, "I'm going to swing at you. Parry it as you would."
Marcellus, unhesitant as usual, summoned his battle aura, enveloping his sword in its protective embrace as he braced himself for Martia's attack.
Her strike came like a force of nature, a smooth and sharp swing that aimed to cleave through anything in its path. Marcellus met it with skilful precision, parrying the blow with his sword, the force of the impact causing him to stagger backwards slightly.
However, his feet remained firmly planted on the ground.
But then, almost immediately, Martia launched another swing, this one coming in rapid succession. Marcellus once again moved to parry the strike, but to his shock, something unexpected happened.
The impact of the blow caused his sword to shatter like a mirror into several pieces, leaving him with nothing but the broken remnants of his weapon in his hands.
As the remnants of Marcellus's shattered sword fell to the ground, Edwin, who had momentarily stepped away, returned to the scene.
He surveyed the broken weapon and the surprised expression on Marcellus's face.
With a wry smile, Edwin remarked, "Well, it seems we've encountered your first sword god-style swordsman. Here you can keep it, do not be too surprised about your broken weapon. After all, this is one of their first techniques"
Marcellus nodded, still in awe of the sword Edwin had given him. It was different from what he had known, a high-quality weapon with a wooden handle and a leather sheath, and a slight curve at the tip of the blade.
Turning to Martia, he asked with curiosity, "What was that just now? What did you do?"
Martia explained as they left the governor's house and walked towards the back of the island, "That move is called the 'Arm Chop.' It's one of the first things you learn before becoming a sword saint. Unlike water saints who learn a bunch of different skills like parrying and footwork, sword saints mainly focus on mastering this one move. If you're good at it and train hard, you can become a sword saint."
Mythralis Island, in its essence, shared the fundamental concept of any island – it was essentially a submerged mountain rising from the depths of the sea.
The town of Mythralis occupied one side of the island, while the elevated regions in the island's interior remained mostly uninhabited by humans.
Such hill and elevation slip the island into a 'river' that snaked through the whole island like a snake, Such a river was what Edwin's now cohorts had to cross to get further into the hill's colloquially referred to as mountains.
As each member of the cohort disembarked from the boat, the sun had risen slightly on the horizon, yet the surroundings remained shrouded in morning dew, obscuring their view.