“You’re the boy they call the Savage,” the Grand Commander said, his eyes glued to the young Iyrman. His pressure exuded upon Jurot’s shoulders, like a heavy pool of murderous intent.

“Yes,” Jurot replied, feeling the gentlest of pressures against his body. He had almost not noticed, but he was an Iyrman, so of course he’d notice such a thing. However, compared to those he had grown up alongside, the Grand Commander’s pressure was far too gentle.

“The difference between courage and stupidity is subtlety.”

“You cannot afford me even now.” The pressure against Jurot’s increased as the Grand Commander focused his entire attention onto the boy.

“I expected the Iyrmen to step to the demon’s aid, for it is expected of your people,” the Grand Commander began, still standing tall, his hands tied behind his back casually, too casual for someone speaking so ill of the Iyrmen while within the range of their rage. “Do you intend to step forward now?”

Jurot’s eyes remained focused on the Grand Commander’s, his entire body tensing and relaxing, heating himself up for a fight. “You are just a Paragon?”

“I had not expected the grandson of the Mad Dog to be so eager, not when he was so meek.”

“…” Jurot’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“When I met your grandfather, the one they call the Mad Dog, he was but a shell of his former self. He was not the Mad Dog who plagued this land with his wickedness, but a meek little pup who dared not to raise his axe in front of me.”

Jurot could feel the rain of that day, feeling it pitter patter against his skin. His eyes darkened once more, and his fingers twitched.

“Okay?” Kitool called.

“Okay,” Jurot replied, still feeling the rising heat, but understanding he couldn’t draw his axe first.

“Will the soldiers step forward?” Hope Willow asked.

“If you are to fight, you should do so outside of the fort, and as long as you do not assault us, we will not interfere in the matter,” the Commander assured, too old to deal with the nonsense of the orders. ‘If I was younger, I might have caused your orders some trouble, but I’m just an old man now.’

“As long as you do not step forward while we apprehend the demons, we will guarantee your lives,” the Grand Commander stated, still standing far too relaxed.

“If you keep insisting, I must step forward, Sir James Greatwood.”

“I do insist.”

Hope Willow clenched her fists together. The difference between herself and the Grand Commander was far too high. However, there was something else which put her at a disadvantage. ‘The Rays cannot step forward here.’ She eyed up the other members of the Grand Commander’s order, noting they were each at least their Experts, with a Master among their midst, and perhaps another. Though there were only a handful, did she have enough support to deal with them?

She could only do that.

“Iyrmen, are you willing to step forward in this regard?” Hope Willow asked. “I will face the Grand Commander.”

Jurot’s throat let out a groan, the kind of groan one would give out in dissatisfaction and thought.

“If you wish to fight us,” Lucy said, with a tone of voice no one had heard from her, that of the arrogance from authority, “we will also fight.”

Beside the Demon Lord, her aide crossed her hands over her navel, and she stood tall and proud, ready to assist her liege.

Vonda let out a soft sigh. If Lucy had remained silent, it would have given them some way to back out peacefully after the situation resolved, but with the young woman stepping forward, it had become awkward for them. If the demons displayed their eagerness to fight, the blame would be pinned on them, even if the order started the fight, justified or otherwise.

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“Adam,” Jurot called finally. “I wish to face the Grand Commander.”

A moment passed.

Another moment passed.

Jurot turned, glancing over his shoulder to see his brother stood with his arms crossed, his eyes closed, as though he had shut out the world. “…”

“Jurot,” Adam finally called, revealing he had been listening after all, “it’s time for the Noonval Festival isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“How cute do you think my kids are looking right now?”

“Yes.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Adam said, letting out a soft sigh. His entire body shook as he thought about how much trouble had come his way while he should be within the Iyr eating pizza with his kids. “We should have sent back some ribbons so they could wear them today.”

“Yes.”

“Do you think Lanababy’s enjoying herself?”

“Yes,” Jurot replied, pausing only for a moment, “she will be watching the fights.”

Adam let out a soft exhale, the kind of exhale which did not relieve him, his entire jaw tense as he grit his teeth. “So you want to beat up the Grand Commander?”

“Yes.”

“Then…” Adam opened his eyes, slowly reaching up to pull up his visor, his eyes glaring out towards the world, revealing the utter annoyance on his face. It was the kind of annoyed which was fuelled by rage, the kind in which his willpower had been chipped away by tiny little stabs of annoyance before he was about to burst. “Whose the second strongest from the order?”

“Your words are filled with such venom,” the Grand Commander said, his eyes falling onto the young man in purple. “You knew when to step back during the tournament, you should know to do so now.”

Adam’s eyes slowly made their way towards the Grand Commander. He opened his mouth to reply, before he froze for a moment, realising the words which should slip out of his mouth. The young half elf’s lips formed a smug smirk.

“You are just a Paragon?”

Jurot slowly nodded, the shadow of a smile forming on his lips. Jaygak smirked from behind her helmet, and Kitool slowly bowed her head, stretching it, also completing the static movements within her body as she prepared herself.

“Vice Commander,” the Grand Commander called, and a warrior in full plate stepped forward, his entire armour decorated, his cloak pinned to his armour with a particular medal Adam didn’t recognise, but the Iyrmen knew was the medal for valour upon the field. “I will clip the paws of the pup, you may clip the ears of the fae.”

“Fourth Hope,” the Vice Commander called, his voice like that of Adam’s, inviting trouble with its lightness. “Will you hide behind these children, or will you face the Grand Commander or I.”

“…” Hope Willow hadn’t realised the other figure she had spotted wasn’t actually a Master, but a Grandmaster. He wielded a blade at his side which wasn’t special, not like those wielded by the Grand Commander or the other Master, a figure who probably also held a title. If he was a Vice Commander who wielded a blade that looked completely normal, then it was probably only him.

‘If only the Grand Commander wasn’t here…’ Willow was fairly certain she could clash with the Vice Commander, but beating him would have been difficult. It was essentially a flip of a coin if they were to fight.

“These young men are friends of the demons,” Hope Willow said. “I will leave it up to them who they wish to face.”

“Friends?” the Vice Commander turned to look towards Adam. “Those who cohort with demons bear their sin too.”

“Those who believe they fight for justice may inflict a greater injustice.” Another heavily armoured figure stepped forward.

“You know of our scriptures?”

The figure removed his helmet, revealing his handsome, half fae face, and the look of dangerous defiance within his eyes. “I was always very good at my scriptures.”

The Vice Commander removed his helmet, revealing his own handsome face, his dark hair and eyes. His dark hair had been cut in a particular way, cut at the start of every month, and allowed to grow out, just like another within Adam’s company. His dark eyes held a hint of guilt.

“Vice Commander.”

“Jonn.”

Adam glanced between the pair, deciding to remain quiet. ‘Is he his…’

The Grand Commander’s eyes fell to Jonn, a young man he instantly recognised. He decided against speaking, not since there was someone else with a greater connection to him.

“I see you are well,” the Vice Commander said, noting the Steel token against his chest.

“Yes.”

“It is terrible to see how far you have fallen. I can only blame myself for not being able to stop you from leaving.”

“It was not our choice to make,” Jonn replied, controlling his voice, his eyes narrowing slightly. “To break one’s oaths, it can only be done so under extreme circumstance. When one is close to death, or”, his eyes darted towards the Grand Commander he had idolised as a boy, “if the King demands you to throw away one of the brothers of your order.”

The Vice Commander remained silent.

“It was a shame what happened back then,” the Grand Commander said. He then held out a hand towards Jonn, ready to shake the young man’s arm. “We have lost our home, our heritage not enough for the Traitor King. It is important that we all remain together. We will reform our order, and you may return.”

Jonn remained silent for a long while. He had been kicked out so many years ago, and he had to fend for himself in the north. He used to dream of being accepted back into the order, even as far as a couple of years ago, when he had refused to swear his oaths to Adam.

“If the King is displeased, I will deal with it,” the Grand Commander assured.

“You are just a Paragon?” Jonn replied.