As a direct disciple of the Blue Tiger's Dojo and his merits as a Silver Plaque Mercenary, Hektor was treated as a Captain by the military. He now held responsibility over a squad of twenty soldiers. Only eight of which were disciples of the dojo, while the rest of them are soldiers who have lost their squads.
With the birds flying around him and the serious expression he held, one would have to be an idiot to question his authority. Among the disciples who knew of him or have seen him fight first-hand, none of them was stupid enough to try. The story differs greatly for the regular soldiers, they were used to seeing larger men as captains or extremely skilled combatants. A kid, child-soldier or not was someone that a lot of them would question.
"A kid, they made our captain a kid?" A soldier complained.
"They might as well tell us to kill ourselves." A soldier commented, agreeing with the first one's statement. But before they could even continue their slander, Hektor already put them both to the ground.
[Claws of the Tiger] Hektor's hands gripped both of their heads tightly. Palming it like a ball, a few of the soldiers could have sworn that they heard a crack. The aura surrounding his hands were in the shape of claws, with the tips of them drawing a bit of blood.
"Then fucking try me, anyone with even a sliver in their mind of doubt." Blue aura flared from Hektor's body. He was using aura through the [Fists of the Tiger] techniques that are considered basic in terms of their dojo. But the speed he exhibited and the raw power he was showing were all feats that no regular disciple could muster.
'Thank god that wasn't me.' Was a thought that a lot of the onlookers shared.
"No one?" Hektor asked, knowing that not a single one would respond. "If you don't listen to me, the orcs are going to kill you."
"If you question my skill then test it out yourself." He whistled. The birds began to fly around the two people that he was still holding down.
"Fwoooo." The whistling stopped.
"Firebolt." Hektor commanded.
The crowd watched as two glowing birds sent out balls of fire to the backs of the two soldiers. The pain was enough to make one of them pass out.
"You will refer to me as Captain, are we clear?"
"Sir, yes sir!"
The last thing Hektor wanted was to be belittled by those that were far weaker than himself. He trained under one of the most prolific Master martial artists in the kingdom yet a common soldier still questioned him. Hektor got what he wanted, he instilled fear into those that even thought of doubting him while also asserting his strength from their first meeting.
"Don't bring them to any healers." Hektor commanded. "We're headed to the walls, they made their bed. They can sleep on it."
[A soul has been added to your collection.]
[A soul has been added to your collection.]
If the display from earlier wasn't enough to convince them, the current scene likely did. The two injured soldiers watched as their new captain decimated every goblin and orc that came his way. Dancing around the battlefield with birds that aimed to blind or distract his opponents. At times he moved at speeds that was hard for the eye to see.
His whistling commanded the birds, while simple words commanded the sprites. "Spike" for a spike of rocks that pierced through his opponent's skin. "Firebolt" for the balls of fire from earlier. "Landing" for the earth sprite to cushion his fall.
One of the disciples from the dojo stood beside them, currently drinking some tea. "He told us that he'll take it from here."
"W-what?" The soldier with a burnt back asked in surprise.
"We've been fighting for a few hours, he told us we could take a break." The disciple continued. "He's a thoughtful guy, that's for sure."
"Yup, Hektor has always been one of the nicer direct disciples." Another disciple agreed.
"Just…just who is that guy?" the other soldier asked, still at awe at what he was watching.
"Direct disciple of the Blue Tiger, The bird caller from the frontlines." The disciple responded, before pausing. "I guess you wouldn't know the first thing about direct disciples huh?"
"Before even coming to the dojo, he was already making a name for himself." The disciple continued. "A young spearman who survived the Orc's initial counterattack, if it still doesn't ring a bell then… what did they start calling him again?"
"I had a feeling that it was him, but I never heard anything about those elemental spirits." One of the veteran soldiers chimed in. "Bingka, you really messed up this time." The veteran stated before sitting next to the injured soldier.
"It's the Caller of Crows, the boy who rejected knighthood from the fourth prince."
While the story is inaccurate, since the prince only gave him a small look at the time. Rumors still spread like wildfire during the initial start of Hektor's journey. Showing up months later as a disciple of a renowned dojo only added to the validity of these claims.
"Hahaha, to think that you'd insult a guy like that." The veteran laughed. "Balls of steel, you either have that or you're idiots."
"My first guess was that he was a noble's kid, if we're being honest." The veteran continued. "That much aura? Just what do those dojos feed these kids?"
Sensing an opponent's aura is a common practice among soldiers, greenhorns who can barely use it have little to no way of sensing it. The veterans in the group already knew that the boy was on another level, choosing to warn the greenhorns is just not part of the job description.
Souls: 15 -> 56