The heavy greatsword fell like the rain around them, the crimson shield barely manage to contain the vicious force within the blow. The crimson shield, splattered with rain, threatened to dent under the might of the Butcher’s blade, which crackled with great magic.

“Marmak!” Jarot shouted, raising his axe.

The axe met the side of the Iyrman’s flesh, but he was no simple Iyrman, for he was Marmak, the Butcher. Though the axe tore into his side, it did not break through his flesh, which was as hard as the steel which struck it.

“Jarot!” Marmak’s entire body, hot red with rage, strained as he tried to cleave the Mad Dog in half.

Jarot’s red hot body also strained as his axe dug into Marmak’s shoulder, while the greatsword struck against the crimson shield, the red steel flexing as the blow tore through the rest of Jarot’s arm, threatening to fracture his bone.

“Jarot! Marmak!” Zaool shouted, the flash of lightning illuminating him, while the rumble of thunder echoed across the land. “Stop this at once!”

Gangak sighed, the woman clutching her blade against her chest, watching the pair fight. “Do you believe those two will listen to you?”

‘Are they trying to kill each other?’ an adventurer thought, watching as the Iyrmen fought. They had been ready to fight, seeing as how Marmak charged forward to assault the Iyrmen. However, the trio of Iyrmen beside the Iyrman with the crimson shield had remained standing to one side, mostly relaxed.

“What brings you so far south?” Marmak asked, bringing down his blade, readying to bisect the Mad Dog.

“My son…” Jarot replied, before his eyes turned white, his entire body growing so hot the rain threatened to turn to steam upon touching his bare skin, “was killed.”

Marmak’s blade clashed with Jarot’s axe, the magical steel ringing in the air as the lightning flashed, the thunder rumbling all across them. Marmak’s face held a wild, vile grin.

“How did he die?”

“Forgryn killed him,” Jarot said, his voice trembling with sheer rage. “That bastard killed my boy!” Jarot pressed the Butcher back with the new found rage within him, the Mad Dog like a force of nature rather than a wicked Iyrman.

Marmak stepped back, partly due to the Mad Dog’s strength, but partly because of the shock of the sheer enmity within the Iyrman’s axe. ‘Forgryn?’ Thoughts flashed within Marmak’s mind.

“Was it Fakrot?”

Jarot’s axe threatened to tear into Marmak’s chest, though his axe stopped, his arm pulsing from slowing his arm in the instant. “…”

“I met Fakrot and Chayrot a few weeks ago,” Marmak admitted. “…”

“Forgyn killed my son and daughter,” Jarot growled, his throat clogging up, his entire body still red hot with rage. The rain fell across his face, his hair falling down to his shoulders, dark and wet.

“Jarot…” Marmak said, his rage filling him once more, his entire body flashing with a rage which matched that of Jarot’s. “Your daughter-,”

“Jarot, Marmak,” called a voice from the darkness.

Zaool shuddered, glancing back towards the darkness, watching as the dark robed figures stepped towards the group of Iyrmen and adventurers. Otkan glanced their way with a look, but she kept most of her attention towards the adventurers, her arms crossed, as though she wasn’t ready to fight them.

Only the leading figure stepped forward, undoing her hood to reveal her bald head, and her tattoo, a deep blue semicircle in the centre, with the flat side pointed up, with deep red hollowed ovals emanating out from the tattoo. She held a staff in hand, made of the purest of whites.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Have you come to stop me?” Jarot asked, his body still red hot with rage.

“There is news,” Shaool replied.

The adventurers near the Iyrmen turned ice cold, and by the time they had come to their senses, they realised they had reached for their weapon. ‘Did they just… kill him?’

In the instant the blood lust filled the air, the Iyrmen had moved. Jarot lunged towards Shaool, who did not move to act, instead trusting in her aura of tranquillity to defend herself. It did little against Jurot’s rage, though her cloaked companions each stepped forward, pinning Jarot’s body with their staves. The staves shook violently as they tried to keep the Iyrman pinned.

It was at this time she had wished she were a Paragon, for she would need to be such in order to deal with the Mad Dog.

“He is our brother,” Otkan’s voice cut through the air, the woman reaching for her greatsword.

“We will subdue him,” Zaool said, his eyes meeting Shaool’s.

Shaool bowed her head. She darted back with her companions and Jarot chased after them, only to find Zaool in front of him. The Iyrman struck Jarot against his heart, energy exploding inside the raging Iyrman, before his entire body froze still.

Zaool froze in place too, shocked it had worked so suddenly.

Tangak and Otkan both struck Jarot with their blades, piercing into his iron flesh, barely managing to cut into him even as he remained still in place thanks to Zaool’s abilities. Marmak watched as the trio of Iyrmen brought the Mad Dog down, until he was beaten unconscious.

‘It’s been too long since I’ve been at your axe’s mercy,’ Zaool thought, panting lightly, his entire body wet with sweat.

Shaool reached into her cloak and brought out a small vial filled with a light blue liquid, a glowing white strand floating within the light blue. She poured it into Jarot’s lips, the unconscious Iyrman’s body swallowing it with the help of her guiding the liquid through his throat with her energy.

“What is it?”

“It will help with his ragefever,” Shaool replied, saying no more about the liquid.

Marmak stared at the unconscious Iyrman for a long moment. He turned and returned back to the adventurers.

“Kal, why did we have to leave?” an adventurer asked, hearing the gentle rain dropping against armour, his eyes towards the Kal beside him, who looked towards Marmak.

“It is best to leave them alone for now,” Marmak replied.

The adventurers glanced between one another, before glancing towards their noble leader. The leader did not reply. He could still feel the blood lust which had filled the air and had caused his heart to stop for a moment.

‘How terrifying!’

‘Forgryn…’ Marmak thought, his eyes narrowing.

It was at that time, Marmak had made a decision which had changed the meaning of his nickname. A year later, and he had disappeared from Aswadasad, thought dead.

‘He’s still alive?’ Korin thought, his eyes glued to the Iyrman before him. ‘The Butcher!’

“You want to fight me?” Adam asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I want to see if you worthy of my granddaughter.”

“What do you mean worthy of your granddaughter?” Adam replied back, pointing at the Iyrman. “Is your granddaughter…” He clenched his fist. ‘Stop being an idiot, damn it.’

“Are you threatening my grandson?” Jarot growled towards the older Iyrman.

“Whose grandson?”

“I wish to fight him.”

“There is no need for you to fight him.”

“It is only fun.”

“Fun?” Jarot’s eyes narrowed. He switched to the Iyr’s tongue. “Do you believe the words you’re saying?”

“Since he’s asked me to fight in front of my kids, I guess I have to fight,” Adam joked, before noting the looks he received from both Jarot and Gangak. ‘Eh?’

“If your grandson wishes to fight, then we may.” Marmak’s lips formed a small smirk.

“Although, I have to warn you… I’ve never lost in front of the kids.”

“If you can defeat me, it is only an honour for you. If you are defeated by me, it is still your honour.”

“I don’t intend to lose.”

“Good!” Marmak began to chuckle with delight, already feeling the heat flood through his entire body.

“Although, let’s be clear… whether or not I marry your daughter, it’s not up to you or me. It’s up to whether she marries me, and whether my children end up accepting her.”

“My granddaughter will be accepted by your children,” Marmak assured.

“I hope she doesn’t feel too bad about her grandfather being beaten by some kid.” Adam’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

Marmak roared with laughter, though it was cut short by Gangak’s words.

“Step back, Adam,” the old woman said in their tongue, her glare serious. “If you are so eager to fight, I will fight you.”

“What need of I to beat you in front of your greatchildren?” Marmak replied, his eyes meeting Gangak’s.

“It is no dishonour for me to lose against you.”

“Hey,” Adam interrupted in their tongue. “Let’s just stop this.” ‘They really don’t want me to fight?’ Adam wasn’t sure why he was being asked to step back, considering the reputation of Iyrmen. He also didn’t want Gangak to fight, considering she was so certain she would lose against this Iyrman. ‘Gangak’s the best of the Gaks. If she loses…’

Taygak watched the scene with a hint of excitement within her eyes. She looked up towards her mother. “Grandmother, fight?”

“She may,” Kaygak confirmed, sipping her milk. Her thoughts were very different to Adam’s, who did not want Taygak to watch her grandaunt’s loss. ‘The fight will inspire Taygak.’

“Grandaunt, I’ll fight,” Jaygak called. “It will be my honour!”

Raygak gasped, his eyes darting to his sister. ‘She is to fight Marmak?’

‘Who is this old man anyway?’ Adam thought, suddenly feeling like he was out of his depth.