Chapter 1: Overture

Quickly paced himself, he did a mental checklist of what needed to be in order. Made sure he buttoned his shirt, looked down at his shoes to see his reflection, and tidied his hair for a bit. For this was not an ordinary summons, the King has called for him. The time was passing faster and faster as the hallways seemed to lengthen. The red velvet floor dragged on and on, tempting him to begin running. But as he recalled, one must never lose his composure under pressure. Finally, he could see the giant golden door and, next to it, the statue-like soldiers. They were equipped with glowing steel armor and weapons that hummed with power. Guarding said doors with a vulture's eyes and a hunter's aurora. The immense daunting pressure he felt just by thinking about them made him remember who the King was. He stood with his back straightened and began his salute. Both hands silently and gracefully bent back behind his back. Once at the final motion, he spoke. 

"His Majesty has summoned me!" He proudly exclaimed. There was no nod from the soldiers around him, yet the doors simply opened. Almost hard to believe that such heavy doors would open with just the gentlest breeze. He then returned to a normal posture and allowed himself to march forward after seeing no reaction from the soldier. The corridor only enlarged, and a large and breathtaking room enveloped him. Truly the room fit for the king of kings. The floor was made out of gold, and columns of the sacred tree, would be located at the other end of the world. The walls out of pure white marble seemed to dance off the reflection of the gold—hundreds of statues and, of course, the art of the old Kings from said past. Ten soldiers on each side amounted to twenty. The soldiers were perfectly spaced to be distant yet close. He couldn't look them in the eyes, and these men were the most vital people known in the kingdom. Said to be able to rival a young King. Many rumors circulated about them, but one of them stood out. Of course, it has to be the older man Augustus. He reeks of strength, and his stern look always makes him jump. Avoiding eye contact with him is crucial. That pure strength is what raised him in the army. 

"Kneel, boy!" His voice boomed and echoed across the room. His instincts kicked in, and he followed what the older man said—silently cursing himself for still being terrified of the older man. But he hasn't made eye contact with anyone, and this is what he was most worried about. 

"Guards, please give us space." They raised one leg and smashed it with the other like thunder. Suddenly this misty veil covered all twenty guards. The boy was confused. 

"Don't worry; these men can never leave this room when the king is present. A law passed down from generation to generation." The king gently laughed, startling Augustus, deep in the lore and love for his country. 

"It seems our guest is already bored." He snapped to attention after glaring at the mist and wondering if they couldn't see or hear us. 

"You're correct; they can't hear us but can see us. This is as much privacy as a king can receive." He looked back at him with a mute expression. Even the older man was standing still, everyone except for him. Gently moving his finger to see if he was affected by it, only to see he wasn't, then out of nowhere, a loud sigh.

"Hurry up, old man, that took way too long." 

"Apologize, your majesty. I was simply testing the boy." he snarked back at him and stood from his throne. Then opened his arms and welcomed the boy to a warm hug. The kid quickly rushed to something familiar, and they both shared each other's warmth. 

"You only have a moment before my spell fades. A King can never be seen giving such affection."

But the king and his son paid little mind to the older man. 

"How touching." Augustus simply snickered in the back.

"Sorry about that, son, but you know how strict the rules are here in this room." the son simply nodded and stood back from his father. 

"Then why'd you summon me here?" his smile faded, and his eyes were reminded of the problem. He couldn't guess what was happening inside his head at the time, but he knew it was more painful than anyone could imagine. 

"Listen to me carefully, son." His surroundings began to shake, and the guards instantly formed a circle around the king. Even Augustus raised his spear slightly. 

"We are at war, and we are going to lose this war. Augustus will take and guard you and take care of you. Do as he says." 

Outside the windows, you could hear the clamoring and screaming of people. He was aware of the war but attacking the capital made no sense. 

He woke up with eyes tearing up and a dizzy head. He instinctively grabbed his sword and almost cut the older man sitting next to him. Only for him to realize he simply grabbed the tip of the blade. 

"That makes it twice this week, Your Majesty." 

Firstly he had to calm his breathing and wipe his tears. He already knew what Augustus was thinking without him saying it. 

"Was it that-"

"Yes," He took a moment to repeat himself after answering. The wind gently blew past the silence and weaved with it. The bonfire crackle and the sudden howl of wolves in the distance reminded him of where he was. He can't believe all this has happened; it's been just two years since. He paused himself; even thinking about it made his throat clench with pain. 

"Here." Augustus handed him a piece of meat stabbed with a stick. Fairly sure the cleanliness of the meat has been compromised, but who was he to complain? Better than eating that awful soup. His body shivered, and Augustus smacked his head. 

"What do you want!"

"I know you were thinking about my soup." He let out a quiet 'eh' to settle the matter. He took a few bites and was reminded of how glorious actual food was. After finishing his meal, Augustus did the usual and sharpened his weapon. Every night. 

"Luke." A sharp and straightforward tone snapped and grabbed his full attention. He didn't respond verbally, but his body saluted immediately. 

"Tomorrow will be your final trial," He said in a proud tone, with a hint of glee. Luke remembered that he would have to fight his demon of a master in a real one-on-one. Relaxing his muscles a bit, he began to think how it's been two years since they went into hiding. 

Since then, all he did was train and eat that soup abomination. Standing up, he began to think of how his body changed. Indeed his muscles were now toned, hardened by combat and ridiculous training. What made it worse was how this was a fraction of Augustus's training. Or that was what he said. Whenever two men stand next to each other, their rivalry always sparks. A competitive nature that never ceases. There was a bit of doubt if he could even scratch his master. But he had to go back to the real world and see what had happened to his land and people. The usual hint of guilt of leaving everything and everyone began to creep again. And, as usual, he went to work to get rid of those thoughts. He was reaching his favorite spot, the monumental mountain that stood guard, carefully watching their back from any possible attack. In the center of his height, the wall had a fistful-sized hole. It was filled with old skin tissue, dried blood, and writing around it. His final personal trial was to crack the mountain. He gently placed his hand on the wall. Stood back and got into his stance. Readied himself to use all of his strength in one sudden punch. The satisfaction of going all out has reached an all-time high. 

Augustus only heard a thunderous explosion while away from the campsite, and he simply let out a sinister laugh. 

"Your majesty, I did as you commanded." 

Sooner or later, he realized the sun began to rise slowly, and the fateful day reached him more quickly than he'd like. But all he could feel was a strange excitement. He headed to the plain valley underneath the campsite, where the battle would be held. Augustus was sitting near a small hill, his monstrous spear in one hand and a wrapped object in the other. 

"Today, you will be allowed to wield a sword again." He tossed him the wrapped object. He made sure to grab the hilt. Even though it was covered in thick horsehide, the sword could still cut him. He unsheathed the blade to reveal a beautiful claymore. 

Oh, it's as beautiful as I remembered. He thought to himself. He gently swung the sword to slash, leaving a scar on the ground beneath him. Not only was Luke surprised by this, but so was Augustus. He knew the soup and training would exponentially jump his growth to this degree. 

The blood of That old fool, what a monster. 

He approached Augustus, and they both took a stance. 

"This is a real battle; if you hold back, you will lose an arm or an eye." Luke knew he was not bluffing. This old man was ready to throw everything he had at him. He wouldn't want anything less; strength is imperative to face foes and dominate his people. A moment of silence passed through them. None of them gave one centimeter to the opponent. They entered into the subconsciousness and allowed instinct and training to take over. Although Augustus has more experience in this, Luke is eager to perfect it. 

Before anything happened, Augustus had a flashback of his training, battles, wars, sacrifices, everything. Luke noticed his muscles grew, and his aurora began to pour out. Not only does this boost his morale, but it also converts him into the most stubborn person in this world. He refuses to lose, and his entire body reacts to his unyielding conviction. 

This old man wants to prove a point. Luke thought silently.

Talent against a genius. This duel was much more than a path to reunite a fallen kingdom, much more than the personal assignment the King gave him. It was nothing but a personal grudge. Before anyone, he was a warrior with pride. And to see a child grow to an arrogant level was enough to make his blood boil. Especially since his bloodline was so blessed, all Augustus could do was fight to satisfy his unfair beginning. 

Seconds passed, and no one moved. The sun began perching as if hurrying to watch this fight. All fauna has ceased to move, and instinct denied them the right to do anything. Suddenly Luke lunged forward, and his excitement denied him the opportunity to counter-attack. In less than a second, he was in front of Augustus; his trained body expelled all his force. But Augustus was a tenth of a second quicker, and he managed to raise his spear that weighed 8 kg. But this didn't interfere with Luke's short slash. It was a clash of unadulterated strength. The shock was enough to disperse the air around them, knocking nearby trees over. But these two warriors didn't falter, which was simply the beginning of a historic duel. 

Augustus simply pushed the young warrior using nothing but strength. As he distanced himself, a short burst of laughter came out of Luke. 

"Are you making light of me, kid?" Luke laughed even more.

"No, sir, simply laughing that you did something right." 

A hint of shame befell the hardened warrior; this kid has nothing but respect. He has to respect him; as much as this idea kills him, he pushes him slightly back with a simple attack, which only makes it easier to lash out. 

"COME FORTH!" There was no response from Luke since he was halfway through a sprint. He's using his speed to his advantage; it seems he gathered enough information from that one clash that he changed his plan. But something didn't sit right with Augustus; he didn't have much time to think since Luke began to show his swordsmanship. He means bashing him with unrelenting combinations that shouldn't exist by swordsmanship. But the sheer weight of that claymore was more than enough to cover his weak sides. Augustus had to block and wait for a counter, which happened. Luke readied himself to strike down, but it took him another second to bring down the sword during the raise. Before he knew it, the butt of the spear was plowing into his stomach. 8 kg of pure weight crashed down on him directly in his most exposed part. He was sent back a few meters. The pain suddenly rushed to his brain, and he clutched his stomach. Gasping for air and trying to relocate his surroundings, for a moment, he was unable to stand or wield his sword. Suddenly from behind him, he heard. 

"Impedire" 

Augustus grabbed his spear closer to the tip and wacked Luke with the end of the spear. The blow utterly shattered him, and he was sent tumbling to the floor. Just because he was a warrior-based class doesn't mean he can't use a few spells. The nastier, the better. 

Luke was in an awful spot. Blood began to drip from his head, and it blinded his left eye. The sheer agony was nothing like the training fatigue and pain he felt. This was much worse. His master was keeping him alive. Luke bewilderedly stood up; he knew he should use all his strength and reveal everything. He stabbed the sword on the ground to a position where it became fixed. He brought out two daggers from his belt. 

"A king shouldn't resort to such trivial weapons." This hurt his pride, and he knew his father would disapprove of him. But he wasn't mentally or physically prepared to carry the Claymore, much less his father's sword, Progenitor. 

"I know, but I am no King; as of now, I am simply a son looking for revenge." 

He prepared the pose that he secretly practiced, and his strength came to him. He was now in his most relaxed state. Using daggers allowed his body to be the main spectacle; he had to be agile and use his arm strength to cut deep into heavily armored enemies. Precise and agile. His body type was nothing like his father's, and he always knew he lacked that. But with this style, he felt more accessible. But for a change, Augustus was right in front of him. He simply dropped to the floor and, gripping his daggers, did a backflip, avoiding his spear's swing. But Augustus didn't let up; he followed through with another strike using the butt of the spear. Luke was waiting for this exact motion. Luke simply used the pole as a stepping stone as he lunged forward. Then he jumped above it and landed a sidekick on his master. At first, he had a sudden doubt his kick would do anything, but as he opened his eyes, Augustus was on his side. No blood, but this irritated him. Not only that, but this gave him a boost of confidence, that he was also strong. Augustus using his low position swiped and made a circle around him, raising the dirt. By the time Luke realized this and made the connection, he could close the gap. Augustus raised his spear at the speed of sound but was quickly countered by Luke. They exchanged blows. In a sudden change of pacing, they were equaled. After breaking apart from each other, who led this dance was visible. 

Luke looked down to see a slash on his right thigh and another cut on his left forearm. Even though he thought he could keep him at bay, he was still wounded. 

Is he even taking me seriously?

"Your majesty, you still haven't used your strength." He was right; these moves have all been stamina and leg strength. 

"Are you perhaps," he paused to glance at him, "scared to see how fruitless your work has been?"

 Before he could react, his entire body lunged forward. The same move as before and this action would have been countered the same way. But as he approached, he threw his dagger with his full strength. It cut his left shoulder and made him lose a bit of his footing. The left blade was in hand, ready to strike, but the spear blocked it. But he realized this too late. Luke let out a powerful right cross. It launched Augustus a few meters back and managed to dent his armor. There was more disbelief than pain. A single punch dented his enhanced armor. He continued the assault and managed to get close enough to stab him with his dagger. Augustus countered after regaining his notion, lunging his spear to cancel his movement. But Luke didn't falter, and all his training was being squeezed into actual combat. He managed to bring the old man down again using his swiftness. And he kicked him back another few meters. Augustus never let go of his spear; he simply refused to use his strength. He tried to go for the same wounded shoulder with only a dagger in hand, but it was blocked. Masterfully landing the blow on his wrist, making him lose his grip. But as he tumbled backward, his right hand emerged with the other dagger, And he could stab his side. A bit shallow because Augustus returned the favor. He was using the weight of the staff to smash his body to the ground. But this time, he was prepared and hardened his body before the blow. After a second, he somersaulted away.

Blood began to trickle down his arm now. Even after doing damage to him, he could halt his assault. That block on his left wrist did a number on him. He looked down to see it poorly bruised. Aside from scratches, his stamina was still away until depleted. Luke glanced a few meters behind him to see the claymore firmly planted. If he even had a chance to take him down, it would have to be by that sword. 

Augustus stood there on guard, awaiting his next move and slowly stepping back to close the gap on the blade until Augustus broke his guard and charged at him. He threw both daggers at him to buy even a few seconds. One managed to scrape his leg while the other missed the target. But he could grab the hilt of the blade, only to yank it out of the ground as his body was sent flying. He ignored the pain and held onto the sword. He was tumbling and rolling around after being kicked. But he had the claymore now. 

"You plan on ending it with the right of a King?" 

"No, I know you won't give in till someone beats you to submission." There was a burst of light laughter after that comment. 

"The boy believes he is ready to make me his follower." He closed the gap 

"Prove yourself, you toothless wolf." 

He once again applied the basic drills of swordsmanship. He swung across and then recovered to continue his attack. The spear is trying to disrupt his flow with a sudden lunge, and using the flat of the blade simply reflects the attack. Then circle to deliver a blow. But Augustus could retract his spear in time to block the attack. This exchange sent a shockwave of power across the land. 

Luke believed he was on equal grounds, and he began to experiment. They were both enjoying this duel to the fullest. Augustus was ready to end it, but Luke wanted to experience more. He managed to bring the claymore to a masterful swing across his chest. But the armor was able to repel the attack leaving only a scratch. Until Luke managed to make a counter and send the claymore into a slashing attack. Augustus was cut, merely across his chest again. But the slice was able to break his armor. In all his battles, this incident only happened a handful of times. But the fact that this brat managed to pierce his armor. His blood boiled, and he began to loosen his restraints. 

Okay, wolf, you will see one of my restraints taken off. 

"Dimittis unus"

But as he readied himself for a counter, Luke immediately felt an ominous and choking presence. This was the aurora he felt when his father went to war—the feeling of a behemoth. 

"Final lesson Luke." he dropped all manner of proper speaking. 

"Survive no matter what." 

Luke could not raise a finger before being impaled on the shoulder by the spear. 

Everything after this was a grey memory.