In the blink of an eye, the giant's massive sword arced towards my neck with lethal intent, its blade glinting in the dim light. My senses spun as I found myself swiftly encircled by the hostile group, their intentions unmistakably clear.
"Yosef! Lizard formation!" the man barked, his command snapping the assailants into a strategic alignment. They moved with precision and coordination, transforming the ring around me into a formidable row of attackers.
I had underestimated their size and strength, my earlier arrogance now feeling like a weight around my neck. As I tried to process this realization, a heavy blow collided with my jaw, sending me flying through the smoky night sky. The ground rushed up to meet me with brutal force, reminding me of my own mortality. Despite my attempts to use magic to soften my landing, I felt a distinct snap in my ankle as I tumbled back to the unforgiving earth below.
Gritting my teeth against the searing pain, I reached into my pack and retrieved a small vial filled with shimmering red liquid - one of our precious healing potions. With a desperate gulp, I forced down the potion, its thick texture coating my throat unpleasantly. But I pushed past the discomfort, determined to return to the fray and continue the battle.
Thirteen enemies stood in front of me, accompanied by a large and vicious demon. I had thought it would be an easy fight, but I was wrong. It was a brutal battle for survival, with no enjoyment to be found.
As arrows rained down from above, their tips aflame and smoke providing cover, I quickly dodged the initial barrage aimed towards my lower targets. I weaved through slower-falling projectiles and avoided slashes from the ground, all while trying to figure out the best course of action.
Should I take control of the situation or try to defeat them quickly? Both options seemed daunting and presented their own challenges that required careful consideration.
The brute who had attacked me charged forward in a fit of rage, his face twisted in fury and sword raised high. I leaped out of the way, barely avoiding his deadly swing.
But before I could regain my balance, he was on me again with another attack, this time aiming a kick at my head. Using telekinetic force, I stopped his leg just inches away from my skull.
"Stay down, you damn bastard!" he roared in frustration as my defenses held strong against his attacks. But in that split second of distraction, I felt a sharp pain graze my ear as a surprise attacker appeared behind me. Despite the depth of the wound, it only left a faint scar on my skin, proof of the protective magic that surrounded me.
My heart pounded wildly in my chest, struggling to keep up with the chaos around me. Every breath was jagged and out of rhythm with the constant barrage of assaults. Outnumbered and overpowered, I teetered on the brink of panic. How could I possibly defeat thirteen enemies at once?
Then it hit me like a bolt of lightning - these were not like the previous encounters with Helgarth's group. These enemies were skilled and coordinated, possibly even members of the Royal Guard using anti-magic detection techniques to mask their real power and catch me off guard.
In a desperate attempt to survive, I dodged a small fireball hurtling towards me from behind, but was immediately met with a barrage of magical attacks. With no other option, I used one of my foes as a shield, feeling sickened by the gruesome display as their armor dissolved and their insides were boiled by the intense energy.
With a powerful surge of telekinetic force, I propelled myself away from the overwhelming onslaught of my enemies. Drawing my own blade in a desperate bid for survival, I knew that as an inexperienced swordsman, I would need to unleash every trick and tactic up my sleeve to stand a chance.
As I grappled with eleven adversaries in an open clearing, I took swift stock of their composition. Eight were skilled swordsmen or knights, three were formidable mages, one wielded a bow, and one lay lifeless at my feet. The capabilities of the massive giant who watched the chaos from his perch atop a stump remained shrouded in mystery, but for now, I had to focus on the immediate threats before me.
However, amidst the chaos and danger, a new concern gnawed at me—the dwindling reserve of my mana. Though it was impossible to quantify its exact level, I could sense its ebb and flow much like the sensation of thirst when dehydrated. For now, I still possessed a considerable amount, but the exertion of battle threatened to rapidly drain it.
As a swordsman lunged at me from the side, a mage began incanting a spell behind me while the giant observed from above. In a split second decision, I used the unfortunate swordsman as a shield against the mage's attack. Ice erupted from the ground and tore through the man's body, leaving him incapacitated and me narrowly unscathed.
Sharp shards of ice flew past me, just missing their intended target by a hair's width. Disregarding the lifeless body that lay at my feet, I turned my attention back to the mage who was already conjuring another spell.
Our eyes met, and he seemed to falter, his incantation breaking off as fear overtook his expression. Taking advantage of the momentary pause, I charged towards him, my blade slicing up through his midsection and tearing flesh apart in a gruesome manner.
"Aagh!" he cried out before collapsing to the ground in a crumpled heap.
"Nine..." I muttered, keeping track of the fallen.
"Stop!" boomed the voice of the giant, his tone commanding as he stood up from where he had been resting against a tree stump, using his sword as a makeshift cane.
In an instant, the chaos of battle melted away into a heavy silence as all soldiers, friend or foe, dropped to one knee. The only sound that remained was the heavy breathing of those who had been locked in combat, now exhausted and spent, some falling unconscious where they stood.
"You want to know my name? My name is Gazem, son of King Pilmen, ruler of the Almanac Theocracy Knight Squad—a powerful force dedicated to stopping your evil empire!" he declared, raising both of his massive fists defiantly into the air.
"Evil? You should thank your lucky stars that my father isn't here. He would have ended you before you could utter another word," I retorted, gripping my sword tightly as I prepared for another confrontation.
For a brief moment, Gazem's gaze seemed to waver, as if struck with a sudden wave of fear at my unyielding determination. But soon enough, the truth became clear and any illusions of intimidation shattered.
A deep laugh escaped his lips, his attempts to stifle it failing as tears streamed down his face from the overwhelming amusement.
I demanded, growing more confused with each passing second.
"What are you finding so humorous?" I glared at Gazem, my voice filled with frustration.
"You're so devoted to defending that pathetic excuse for a man. Just like he planned, you've become nothing but a tool - his puppet, without any will of your own," Gazem taunted, bursting into laughter once again.
He picked up his massive sword from the ground and met my gaze head on. "It's time we put an end to this game. We're achieving nothing by wasting time," he declared with determination.
My voice faltered as I struggled to make sense of his words. "Wait... what do you mean by 'as he planned'? Who are you talking about? And why do you keep referring to me as a weapon? I-I have my own free will," I stammered, feeling even more bewildered.
Gazem's face was marked with scars from countless battles, showcasing his years of experience in combat. With a sly grin, he advanced towards me, his gaze intense.
"Do you really believe your father has no skeletons in his closet? That bastard has an army of undead at his disposal," he announced, his words hitting me like a ton of bricks.
A whirlwind of thoughts and emotions arrested me in place. Doubt, anger, and betrayal mingled together, paralyzing me. How could my father send a young child like me to kill? What if I died while fulfilling his orders? Did Werner have any concern for my safety at all? My own father... the realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. Was he manipulating me this entire time?
In the midst of my confusion, a sudden, intense pain exploded in my jaw, jolting me back to reality. The world seemed to spin for just a moment before my senses returned. Questions flooded my mind - why was I here? Who were these men I was fighting against, and for what reason?
Those were the last coherent thoughts that raced through my mind as darkness crept into my vision. Slowly but steadily, the world dimmed until all I could feel was a looming presence above me - a massive figure with a dirty boot hovering dangerously close to my face.
And then, everything faded away into darkness.
***
The words "Brother! Dear Gods, wake up Viktor!" pierced through the dense fog of sleep, ringing loudly in his ears. As consciousness slowly returned, Viktor found himself not greeted by his brother's harsh voice, but instead by the soothing chorus of birdsong. The sun had already risen, filling the world with its warm golden light and casting gentle shadows amidst the lazy dance of wispy clouds.
It wasn't actually his brother's voice or the ringing in his ears that woke him up, but rather the mocking chirps of carefree birds. Their cheerful songs were a sharp contrast to his own pain and misfortune. With a slow, groggy awakening, Viktor gradually blinked himself back to reality as the bright sunlight hastened his return to consciousness.
Taking in the faces around him – his father, brother, and maid – he realized that no one else was present. Yet their mere presence offered some measure of comfort, a reminder that despite all of the betrayal and humiliation he had endured, he was not alone. And just like that, with a rush of emotion, he was wrapped up in a tight embrace from both his father and brother. Their arms were like a comforting anchor amidst the tumultuous chaos of his thoughts.
"Brother!" "Vikky." The two voices called out together, their concern palpable in their shared expression.
"We... we thought you were gone for good!" Charles exclaimed with relief, pulling his brother into an even tighter hug. For a brief moment, Viktor met his brother's gaze before turning to face the man he truly wanted to confront.
Werner stood nearby, patiently waiting for Charles to reluctantly step aside.
"H-how long was I unconscious?" Viktor's weak voice trembled slightly as he wrapped his hands around himself for comfort during this overwhelming reunion.
Werner stood with his arms crossed, his expression stoic and unyielding as he surveyed the scene before him. The aftermath of the battle was evident in the chaos and destruction that surrounded him.
"It has been almost a week," he stated matter-of-factly, his eyes narrowing as they landed on the two figures crouched beside the bed.
"Emeline, Son, leave me and Viktor for a moment," Werner commanded, his tone brooking no argument. The two complied without hesitation, bowing respectfully to their master and father before quietly exiting the room.
Viktor's face twisted into a mask of bitterness as he locked eyes with the man who had betrayed him. A whirlwind of emotions churned within him but he kept them carefully hidden from his father's gaze.
Werner's countenance betrayed no hint of affection, only disappointment etched deep in his features as he paced restlessly around the room. His steps echoed in the heavy silence that hung between them.
"A whole village, not too shabby. Replaceable, yes, but to suffer defeat at the hands of the Theocracy's Royal Guard? An embarrassment to my name, boy," he remarked, his voice thick with reproach. "Prepare yourself for training in a week's time."
"Training?" Viktor's confusion was evident as he sought clarification.
Werner let out a weary sigh and rubbed at his temples. "Yes, with General Tailon. He will instruct you in honing both your physical prowess and swordsmanship skills. Frankly, Viktor, you're sloppy at best," he added, turning to face his son with a stern gaze.
In response, Viktor straightened up and met his father's gaze without flinching.
"Rest well, boy, for you will need it," Werner concluded briskly before swiftly leaving the room. Left alone with the weight of his father's disappointment and the looming challenges ahead, Viktor could only wonder if he would ever be able to meet his father's expectations.