He believed that he had seen the hairiest man ever once in the frontier, but there were four Goliath, and that man was now the fifth hairiest man.

They were big and brutish and oddly proportioned. From their broad shoulders and wide noses to their brows that stuck out far enough that Harlan questioned if they could even look up or not.

But what Harlan found most odd about the 15 feet tall men was that they had seven fingers on each oversized hand and seven toes on their oversized feet.

Though, it could also be said that what was oddest was that from what Harlan heard, he expected them to be pelt wearing barbarians, and yet instead they were well trimmed and their clothes were much more in line with something Alrick would wear, suits and vests and ties.

They wore their hair in thick rope like braids, their hair growing too quickly and thickly to keep it in any other style.

The final oddity that Harlan saw was that they were not all one color, as far as he knew, humans were all pink skinned, Fomorians were pale skinned, and Golden were dark skinned. He had never seen a people that were more than single toned.

There just wasn’t enough room in Harlan’s office to fit them, so they were meeting outside the walls in a temporary shelter.

“Greetings, King Fomoria. As the messenger has surely told you the day before, we are here to ascertain your intentions so far as the kingdom of Lith is concerned.”

“It would be rude to begin without getting your name.”

“I am Bartholomew.”

“Once I’ve destroyed The Castian Empire I intend to take Lith. But I am open to negotiations, you must simply give slaves a right to life, meaning that their owner cannot kill, maim, or abuse them without legal punishments. From there we can work to remove slavery entirely.”

“That is not a simple request.”

“Where I am from, slavery exists only as punishment for a crime or as a way to repay debts, and we have held off a nation more than twice our size for a thousand years before I put an end to that war.

Do not tell me what is or isn’t simple, it is only a matter of how long and through what method I achieve my goals.”

Darrath was allowed to remain as a learning experience, but he had to stay quiet, yet his wings beat with fear as he saw the anger from the largest of the Goliath.

“We-”

The older man glared, which only frightened Darrath more, but it also got the brash Goliath to sit back down.

“Apologies for my companion, he is not so enlightened as I.”

“Then I shall forgive him, for I was asked to meet with good faith.”

“And who asked this?”

“Nemain.”

The older man with his white striped black hair that contrasted his dark skin sat back and stroked his beard.

“I do know the name, but it is not one I often hear. What was her vision?”

“There was no vision, she appeared before me in person. I was at a tailor with my… ward.”

“Scary woman. Scary scary.”

“She is a god of war, it is no surprise that a child would not understand. I believe you are telling the truth, though I’ve heard no word from anyone about you.”

“I’m not shocked to hear this. Is there anything else that you would like to speak of? Perhaps a tour of my city?”

“No, without treaty it would be best we did not enter. So I shall bid farewell for now and return to our kingdom.”

“Very well, and despite my tone, I believe negotiation is the ideal way to prevent war, slaughter suits me, but I would rather avoid it.”

“Of course.”

While the three men got up and walked away, the larger man did not.

“That woman is a beauty, how about you and I make a deal. I’d like some time with her in exchange for-”

“Leave with your companions.”

“A poor negotiator is one who refuses to even listen to an offer.”

“What she does is not anything to do with me, but a man who would ask me to give her to him is not one that my mother would not go with.”

“Well then, woman, come lay with me.”

“I refuse.”

The only sound in the room was the beating of Darrath’s wings.

“Hercul, do not cause strife.”

“Bartholomew, I would like to fight him, it is clear that he does not respect my authority.”

“I think it would be-”

“It’s not that I don’t respect your authority, I don’t respect you at all. Bartholomew, I too would like to fight.”

“Then I shall act as judge.”

“And my mother shall fill the same role.”

The standard rules for a Goliath duel were that anything was allowed so long as it did not target any audience members.

Harlan had no issue with this.

“Now that you’ve agreed, I think it fair to warn you that I’m 5256th within the rankings.”

“That means nothing to me.”

“In Lith we keep-”

“I don’t care. Come, let’s shed blood.”

Hercul rushed at Harlan who jumped up and struck the bottom of his chin with his head, shattering his jaw and knocking most of his teeth out.

He could barely speak with how much blood flowed from his mouth but it barely seemed to slow him down.

“If you stay down, this is done.”

The man’s teeth painfully regrew into his mouth and he stood back up.

“It is a shameful day when a warrior gives up for so little.”

Harlan shot a beam of void at the man’s leg and saw it unravel until the beam was so weak it simply splashed against his suit.

“No tricks are going to work on me.”

The man shot forward like a bolt and Harlan hit him with a double open palm strike that the man avoided.

Yet before his counter could land, Harlan was at his side with a kick that broke three ribs.

“Thank you, I did wonder about some limits of that anti-magic field you people emanate. Let’s continue.”

The man moved in more cautiously and struck Harlan with a jab.

Harlan flew a few feet back but landed on his feat.

“Now I’m sure that you can’t hurt me.”

“Yet you are spewing blood like a fountain.”

Harlan tossed the blood crystal blades and when the man tried to dodge them, Harlan opened a gate that redirected them. Yet when they got close the magic that bonded the blood into a solid form dissolved and turned to a mist that Harlan couldn’t take control of.

“Interesting.”

The man was annoyed at being used as a test subject and drew his sword, Harlan responded by shifting his armor over his mundane broadsword.

It was shocking to Harlan, the Golaith looked like a brute, but his sword moved as an extension of himself and far outclassed Harlan’s down skill. He kept up only because he was physically superior to the giant and his eyes could see in ways unlike Hercul’s.

The distortions in the air betrayed where he intended to move, the mana seemed to know his intent before the man did.

After a few minutes Harlan couldn’t keep up anymore and had to rely on skip, the Goliath seemed to gain momentum the longer the fight went on. Harlan jumped back and noticed that the loose fit suit of the man now seemed almost bursting at the seams and the man’s face grew more feral. Harlan knew that look.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

Harlan decided that it was finally time to end things.

When the distance was closed in just a moment, Harlan blocked the attack and then moved his blade so that both men’s hilts touched and once in range, a stinger came from Harlan’s wrist and struck the man.

“What was that?”

“This fight is over now.”

“Alchemic poisons won’t save you.”

“I figured.”

The man slowed down more and more as they kept fighting, finally he slipped him and Harlan struck him in the chest with a kick, then it was over.

Harlan gave no chance for the man to recover, his blows rained down on him until his healing slowed down and finally stopped.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“I’ve a lot of experience killing orcs, that rage of yours, that healing, well, let’s just say I have many tricks to handle those things. Bartholomew, this fight is over, I’ve won, but I don’t intend to kill him.”

Darrath moved to Harlan’s back as he watched them drag the beaten and bloody man away.

“I want you to learn from what you just witnessed.”

“What do I learn?”

“Sometimes you need to decide for yourself what needs to be learned, think about it and we’ll talk later.”

A week passed and once again food became the topic, they had gotten quite a bit, but the fields weren’t ready to put out anything and Harlan would rather be prepared.

“Harlan, are we ready to attack the city of…”

Mercedes looked down at the map.

“Minoria?”

“Yes, Minoria.”

“I would say so. But it doesn’t matter now. I’ve had birds flying above the city, and other cities in the area. The Cast are gone, there are mass graves and smoke in the air from the fields. They knew I would be coming and they’ve decided to get rid of the slaves and take away the foodstores.”

“You have gate, there is nowhere that we can’t get to. There must be another city that we can go to.”

“And that city would be one where I lack topographical data, population size, any knowledge of defenses, etc. It’s going to take another week just to just plan the assault let alone.”

D’if spoke up.

“Perhaps an assault is the wrong answer. Perhaps you’ve been thinking about this war entirely wrong.”

“Alright, explain.”

“Just like Dawn said, you have gate, so if the plan isn’t to take a city that you can’t even use and you just want food, why attack at all? I’ve seen glimpses of what you can do, and I know what I can do. If I sneak into a warehouse, you can gate in, steal all of the food from right under their noses.”

“I’ve lost the element of surprise, and once I do that trick once they will just change the way food is kept.”

“The empire stretches thousands of miles, don’t bother going near here, go somewhere that has never heard of you and do it. By the time they start to suspect it is you, you could store months and months worth of food here.”

“Alright, and how am I thinking about this war wrong?”

“You’ve made no allies, it has always been on the bottom of your list. Or, start wiping out towns and villages, the cities need them to function, and you could lock up a lot of them by just starving them out.”

“I agree with the idea, but the end isn’t what I want. I’ll capture the towns and villages to institute an information blackout, then I can negotiate or assault the cities.”

“The cost of war goes up when you do that.”

“Most towns and villages can be taken over with little bloodshed. Killing soldiers and then the mayor or chief will make them give up, such as with Kor.”

“That is a fair point, the people here didn’t seem to care that you took over, but that probably comes from them having been conquered several times in the past. It’s easier to roll over to the new leader and wait for the old one to return.”

Harlan tapped his finger on the table for some time before he spoke again.

“I could make fake Cast and then replace the leaders so long as I had time to learn the mannerisms of them, then I could embezzle food and other supplies from those places. So long as I get it well enough most people should just ignore the small changes in the way they act. The biggest issue is when someone who knows them but I don’t know shows up and expects them to know the history between them.”

They argued some back and forth about the idea, flaws that they could see like those Harlan already pointed out, then they just needed to find where to start.

D’if was most familiar with espionage, so he and Harlan had the strongest voices in the conversation.

“Sir Fomoria, I would suggest we enter Elfique. The war ended less than a year ago and while the Cast are industrious, they aren’t that industrious. You would also be able to rescue the slaves that are most likely to join you.”

“That depends, what exactly do you mean that they aren’t that industrious?”

“The towns and cities are likely to be repaired, but they would need to inject new people into those areas for leadership. They haven’t had time to really put down roots and the villages are likely being mostly ignored outside of food production. They will be a blindspot. And, most likely, they will be sending younger people who are trying to make a name for themselves instead of more experienced leaders who have the myriad connections that you would worry about finding out they’ve been replaced.”

“And this isn’t part of a plan to revive Elfique?”

“You give me work and booze and my youth back. I really don’t care about who I serve, but you come with the best perks by far.”

They spoke a little more to finalize the plan, D’if had an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the area, though Harlan regretted asking how he kept track. The answer was simple, he wouldn’t openly walk in any place where he was likely to have any bastards.

“Does anyone else have anything to say before I adjourn this meeting?”

Dawn raised her hand.

“Darrath wants a sword.”

“I am aware, but I’m worried that he is going to hurt himself.”

“Let me rephrase this then, I got him a sword.”

Harlan could only sigh about his mother’s actions.

Joan raised her hand.

“The Plest have formed a union.”

“And that means?”

“The Plest main nation of Plestile is Communalist.”

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

“Ah, right. They have pooled together their wealth and resources to negotiate as a single entity for all intents and purposes.”

“So then what are they demanding?”

“Nothing yet. But they wouldn’t do that without a reason. I would’ve busted up their gatherings, but I thought what was standard in Dague would be seen as abusive by you.”

“The people have a right to come to me as a group if they so choose. Unless there is something else that I’m missing here due to my ignorance.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you were-”

“Everyone is ignorant on one subject or another. I wouldn’t ask you about ecology and you wouldn’t ask me about history.”

“The thing you are missing is that they are likely to turn to threats of violence if they don’t get what they want. Then they are likely to offer up one of their own as a leader who they expect you to kill as part of the negotiations where they tell you what they are actually willing to settle for.”

“Is that normal?”

“For Plest? Yes.”

“What are the chances that I can avoid having to play along with this charade?”

“The Plest dislike doing things out of what they consider to be the order. They would feel slighted if you called them out for what they are doing. Chances are nobody will get seriously hurt if you play along.”

“Other than the one they expect me to kill.”

“They are an odd people. Mercedes told me the story of a maid who you met when you took the mansion as your home.”

“She couldn’t understand that she was free so I told her that she was her own master and that seemed to work.”

“They are perhaps the most common slaves because they so easily fall into line with whoever they perceive as their leader. They are not individualists.”

Harlan buried his head in his hands for a minute and then they worked out a solution.

Harlan decapitated the Plest and then reattached the head, which confused them, but in the end they accepted it as proper punishment for rebellion.

Once he had the other immediate issues solved he divined Darrath’s position.

As soon as he stepped out of the gate he saw that Darrath was covered in cuts from trying to swing around a blade bigger than he was and not having the strength to stop the momentum of it.

Harlan skipped over before he cut his own hand off and stopped the blade between his fingers.

“You aren’t suited for such a weapon.”

Harlan placed a hand on Darrath’s shoulder and his cuts vanished in just a few seconds.

“I want to be strong like you.”

“Everyone has their own strengths.”

Harlan pulled the blade from his hands and pulled a long thrusting sword from a rack on the wall.

“This is what you should use, lighter, has reach which will help since you are so small, and with your flight you can move quickly to add force to the strikes. I’m a brute, I can wrestle a wyvern and win, you aren’t. You are small and fast and that isn’t a bad thing. Remember what I did to that Goliath? I slipped between his legs, another Goliath couldn’t do that, and if I was bigger I couldn’t do that.”

“Being small is good?”

“It isn’t good or bad, it just is.”

“Can I have horns?”

“Why?”

“I want to be you.”

“Maybe another time. For now, why don’t I show you swordsmanship and try to figure out how I think you might fight. Then I’ll start teaching you magic.”

Darrath was exhausted after a few hours, while he might’ve had a few things from Harlan, the Pixies did not gain his near limitless stamina.

In the morning Harlan went into Darrath’s room and found him in the corner of the room sleeping on the ceiling.

“Are you awake?”

He heard him moan and then his back split open.

Harlan could clearly see the insect-like features of the Pixies, but he didn’t expect him to shed his body like that.

Darrath hit the ground with a thud and then stretched himself out like a cat.

“Awake now.”

“Do you do that every night?”

“No, never before.”

“Maybe it’s because you’ve been training.”

Darrath fluttered his wings and sent metamorphic goop all over the room.

Harlan cleaned himself and then took a few samples just to see if it had any alchemical uses.

“First we are going to send a maid in here, then we are eating breakfast, then we can train more.”

“Are you done with work?”

“I know I haven’t been able to watch you much, but I can do my work at night unless there is a problem.

I want to spend time with you, because I know how it feels to be dangerous and not realize it, and I don’t want you to grow up with regrets because you hurt someone when you didn’t mean to.”

“Ok, papa.”

Harlan froze.

“What?”

“Grandma said I should call you papa.”

Harlan woke Dawn up with a splash of cold water that resulted in him getting a dagger thrown at his heart, but he still thought it was worth it.