"Your highness.. Are you sure Talon can handle such a beast?" A lady dressed in a simple, red dress spoke. Her voice held confidence, though she exhumed doubt. Her eyes unyielding from the spectacle.

Across the horizon, sparks of lightning and great gales of fire danced against eachother. The earth trembled for miles around, and booms of sound had long since shattered the windows of the kings castle.

A dragon had declared war against the human continent. And after razing the northern territory, had begun to head straight to the Kings Castle. And in desperation, they had deployed one man.

Talon Freita. The world's strongest Knight. Nicknamed "The Cold-Iron Knight" because of his unyielding battle spirit and combat prowess. Had begun battle against the dragon. A battle which raged on for 3 days and 3 nights. And it was encroaching upon noon of the fourth day.

--------

"Human.. You selfish bastard.. My death will only fuel the rage of war against Dragons and Humans... You may win this fight.. But you will not win the war.. There are many far stronger than me."

The dragon croaked, his body having slowed down drastically in the last hour. His death was evident.

"If.. If you let me live.. I swear upon the Dragon Lord.. That I"

--

And the text ended there. A man stared down apathetic at the text. His eyes reread the page numerous times.

"And then Talon smirks.. Smirky comment on how strong he is.. And.."

He stops. His eyes welling with tears.

"Where did it go so wrong.."

---

Henry was the author of "Cold-Iron Knight." A story set in the fantasy world of Yurnia. A mystical world with magic and monsters.

His story followed the man "Talon Freita" who was the world's strongest knight. His power far beyond that of the normal man. Able to raze battlefields with a swing of his blade.

At first, it was a passion project he had started late into High-School. His first chapter has been posted, and had immediately hit it off. And as he posted more and more chapters, his novel drastically became more popular before becoming mainstream and turning into an actual book!

He had made news station appearances, met a few celebrities who liked the book, and more. But his high came with the crushing realization.

He now has the attention of millions of people who are looking to read his newest books.

At first, he liked the attention. But as time went on, he slowly realized that with attention, came crushing criticism.

Angry comments on how shallow Talon felt in the new book. Anger about how the stakes felt so underwhelming, and just hatred on every aspect of his books.

He had tried to appease the fans. Increase the stakes, give Talon a love interest to deepen his character, and expand the world of Yurnia.

But everything he did wasn't good enough. And after years of this.. He had lost his passion. No longer looking forward to writing, his series had run stale. His fan-base dwindling, less sales, etc.

His passion became his dread. And his dread became his life.

He looked around his room, the trash bin filled with empty energy drinks and fast food bags, with a carpet showing more crumbs than actual floor. His eyes slowly wandered back to the computer

"Okay.. Talon.. He.. He kills the dragon.. Dragons soul is absorbed by Talon to give him draconian powers.. And.."

Henry sighed loudly.

"I need a nap.."

He clicked the save button, stood up, and began to walk to his door.

One steps, two steps, three steps.. and then he tripped. His face planting into the carpet floor of his room. Clutching his nose and face, he rolled onto his back.

"Fuck... Shit it's bleeding.."

Henry reached out, grabbing his desk to support, before it touched a soft fabric, grabbing it anyway to help himself up, he fell once again, hitting the back of his head as the fabric seemed to give and fall.

A lady screamed, kicking Henry in the face, as she stepped back, her legs now revealed.

"G-Guards!! This pervert tore off my dress!"

Henry yelped in pain, scrambling away from her in a panic.

Sure, he had accidentally tore a girls dress. But at the same time, was there always a girl in his room? And was his room always so loud?

He looked up, gazing at her face, and after a moment, he finally jerked his head away, focusing on the surroundings.

---

A dirt road traveled by a multitude of men in wagons and carts, people walking through, men on horses, and shop stalls lining the road. A textbook example of a market street one may find in a fantasy book.

And Henry was now being surrounded by a multitude of men, many handing the lady who's dress had been torn various shirts to cover herself, and a few who had their hands on their sword.

"Hey shit head, what do you think you're doing?" One of the men spoke. He was fairly larger than the other men around him And his weapon bigger to match.

Henry looked at him for a moment, before his eyes widen and he audibly gasped. Much to the delight of the men around him.

"Awh.. Little bitch realized his mistake.. Too bad it's too late for the runt" Another man spat. His words were hard to follow with how much saliva he spit onto people as he spoke.

Though, Henry mostly focused on the first man. Henry had never seen him before, but his design was engrained in his memory.

Combed, black hair. 6'4 with the figure of a god to boot. Wearing a chest piece self made with the fur of a Sabertooth Tiger, and a matching fur kilt to go with it.

A simple design, but one that Henry had remembered all to well. It was the design of the very first 'villian' ever introduced in "Cold-Iron Knight." Tristan. Born of the peasant background, with no last name.

He was the leader of a small group of criminals in the slum streets of the Barony of Tenna. As well as Talon Freitas arch nemesis of the first book.

After a moment, the consequences finally connected to Henry.

"W-wait this is just a misunderstanding..! I just.. I.. I'm so sorry..!!" Henry begged Tristan, his breath coming in short and ragged breaths like he'd just run a marathon.

"Hey now, alls forgiven.. for the right price." Tristan gleefully spoke, grabbing Henry by the hair.

"Let's see.. Ah, you're Annebel's brother, Lincoln. Yes.. she owes me quite the large debt!" He said, pushing him to the ground.

The men around snickered, the larger crowed having disappeared as the group remained, the lady who's dress Henry had torn, climbed inside the carriage to avoid the embarrassment.

"Boss, why don't we just sell the slut already? She's mountain's in debt, and I think we just got the perfect bargaining chip.. I'd be happy to buy her even.." One of the men spoke.

Henry balled his fist. He bit his lip hard enough for it to bleed.

'You.. You monsters.. I'll kill you if you touch my sist..er..?' Henry thought, stopping.

"My.. sister..?" He spoke, having said it aloud once more.

Tristan looked down at him, his face now stone cold and lacking his previous glee at his misery.

"Yes, your sister. Annabel is thousands of Yuns in debt. And a girl of her age and condition, could sell for enough to pay her debt back.. twice."

Lincoln looked up at Tristan once more. His eyes glazed with a fierce anger, before he clumsily stood, kicking one man in the knee, bending it backwards and snapping it, before rushing past him as he pushed another to the side.

The man screamed in pain from his knee bending inwards, as he collapsed to the ground. Tristan hollered after him

"HAH! Let the little shit run. If he doesn't come back, we'll just sell his sister!"

---

An hour passed. Henry collapsed in an alleyway, catching his breath. He had to collect his thoughts and make sense of it all.

He looked down at his hands, they felt numb from the gravel and rocks he had fallen on. Looking around. He strongly banged his elbow onto the wall, wincing in pain as it began to bleed.

"N-Not a dream.. This isn't a dream.. I feel.. I can feel the ground, my elbow.. I can feel the blood running along my arm.. I.. I'm in my book.."

His thoughts drifted. Back to the beginning of his novel. Chapter 4, the introduction of the Act 1 villain.

----

Laughs echoed through the alley. Whimpers sounded silently in response. Talon made his way to the source, standing at the entrance to the Alley as men were taking their turn beating down a half-corpse of a human.

Softly, the laughing died down as the men looked towards the uninvited guess.

"Shit, is that a kid?" One of the men said, looking at Talon with a confused look.

"I mean, probably? Fucker has a sword, though." The other spoke. His hand on his blade, cautious against the threat, albeit small.

The biggest of them all stepped towards Talon, his arms crossed as his voice boomed towards the kid

"Hey kid. I'll let you go just this once. Walk away and don't tell anyone. Listen to mama and papa, okay you little shit?" He glared menacingly, expecting the kid to run off.

Talon pressed forward, un-sheathing his sword.

"I'm looking for a man named Tristan. You tell me, I let you die painlessly." He spoke monotonous.

The men all looked at each other and laughed. The corpse of a man who had been badly beaten, looked at Talon pitifully, He tried to speak but failed, coughing up a tooth.

Talon sighed, approaching the men. "I would offer you a second chance. But the thought of your heart beating for another minute is agonizing."

Talon rushed forward, and effortlessly slashed the first man's neck open. His body clutched his own throat out of a muscle reflex, though his brain had died right away.

The second barely has enough time to register his friend has even been hurt, before he shared the same fate.

And third and biggest man, bellowed as he pulled out his mace, swinging it wildly at Talon, but he effortlessly ducked under it. Stabbing the man in his jewels. Before slicing apart his body in the next instant.

He looked towards the man the thugs had been beating. And kneeled down offering him his canteen.

"Hey, what's your name?" He spoke, his monotonous expression gone as undoubtedly warmth seemed to give the man energy.

"L..Lin..coln.." He sputtered. Doing his best to sound concise.

"Okay, Lincoln. Do you know a man named Tristan? And if you do, where is he?"

"Trist..an.." He spoke, "murdered and.. sold my sister to a.. rapist.. She.. died within.. a week." He coughed up, the pain subsiding as the feeling of dread overtook him.

"Main hall... b-base..ment.."

Talon cradled Lincoln in his hands, and slowly as he wept. His breaths grew more shallow, before his breath was silent, and his eyes glazed over. Talon shed a tear for the man, and closed his eyes.

"God's protect and guide him. For the world had failed him."

-----

That was the catalyst to begin the Act 1 Villian story, and his journey to being the strongest. And unfortunately, the catalyst to begin the story.. was requiring his death.

And death sounded very unappealing to an alive man.

Henry rested his head against the wall.

"I.. am Henry Thompson. I am a.. sane.. civilized man from North Dakota.. I.. am a sane, civilized man.. from North Dakota.."

Lincoln banged his hand against the wall.

"I.. am Lincoln. I am a peasant from the City of Tenna.. And I must grow stronger.. to survive this world as a man destined to die."

----

In "Cold-Iron Knight" exist Soul Manifestations that reflect the soul of a person. No soul is the same as another, though abilities may be similar.

Soul Manifestations change depending on the accumulated experience, knowledge, and personality of the person.

Talon, for example, has the "Cold-Iron" Soul Manifestation, granting him extremely good defensive abilities, and even better Offensive abilities. The perfect Soul Manifestation for a melee combat knight. Though the drawback was that the longer he used his ability, the more solidified his emotions would be to things. Love was difficult, happiness was difficult, and so was fear and sadness.

Lincoln's death was the first time Talon had cried since his Soul Manifestation. And the murdering of Tristan was the first time Talon had ever felt regret. For he had given the man a death that he didn't deem worthy of his crimes. 

Lincoln leaned down, slowly sitting on the ground. He was unsure on where to go from here. Sure, he could seek out Talon, who should be in the city, currently. But what would he do? Walk up and say "Hey, i'm the author and I wrote you. You're not real, can I stick with you?"

Sure, he had options. But he needed to think long term. And for that, he needed ideas. And every idea he had.. Unfortunately needed Talon's help.

"Shit.. Alright, lets get out the alley, at least. "

-----

[...]

[Error detected]

[Fix. . . . . Failed]

[Rebooting. . . . Failed]

[Canceling]

[End of log note: Henry is on his own]

Henry's office was empty, the computer left on as it displayed a new line.

[Exit, Author]