Alton crouched on his heels and stretched out his legs. The group retreated back to the first chamber of the outpost to wait out any offensive move from the Edorians. Two scouts were posted in the next chamber to flee on sight and encourage Edorians to chase recklessly. Alton and Thuklu waited near the entryways to punish any who would.

After half an hour passed with no contact, Thuklu walked over.

“Keep going or return to Thornwur?” The old Thoiri warrior asked.

Alton didn’t respond right away, choosing to think over the options instead. If they continued through the outpost, they would surely find more Edorians. His company was expecting him to return today and bring them back to the outpost. Alton chose to do both and irritate the old man.

“Take three of your scouts with you and return to Thornwur. Gather my company and what the Thoiri send and bring them back with you. Leave me two scouts and we will continue to probe the outpost and keep the way clear.” Alton said and grinned as Thuklu scowled.

“You do things hard way. Risk taker.” Thuklu grunted.

He called his scouts over and relayed the orders. The two that would stay were both older and more experienced, though not by much. Alton thought about his next move. He borrowed a map from Thuklu before he left and drew a rough version of the outpost as he knew it. If the Thoiri had detailed maps of the outpost, they were lost long ago.

Three chambers were cleared so far. Thuklu said it was a large outpost, but that meant little to Alton’s sense of scale. The two that would remain helped with their own knowledge, and soon they had a working map. It would serve well enough until his company arrived.

“Be safe and travel fast. Don’t forget my new armor,” Alton said and clasped Thuklu’s arms.

“You stay alive. Fight well, die hard.” Thuklu returned and left back down the tunnel.

Alton hoped no fiends had moved in during the time since the Terragigas death. Thuklu was experienced under the mountain and Alton had faith in him. Once his company was returning, they would be able to handle the fiends on the way. The new armor and weapons were a boost to their combat capabilities, unlike any other.

Alton turned his thoughts to the outpost after Thuklu’s departure. He planned to explore the outpost further and probe the defenses of the Edorians. Without his team or the Thoiri in danger, he could truly test himself against the invaders. He called the two scouts over and explained his plan.

—

Alton strolled down the hallway leading into the room from the last fight. There was no one present, but a vague feeling of being watched greeted him. He whistled casually as if out on a stroll and kept his mana circulating. He bent low to inspect the body of his last foe before standing up and spitting on the corpse.

His heightened hearing caught the sound of a boot scuffing against the ground, and he turned to hide his smile. So they were watching. There were only two halls leading out of this room, one to his left that led to a closer door and one straight down the center that curved around out of sight. The center one was where the Edorians ran from the last fight.

He continued to poke around the room while he thought. Either way looked likely to lead deeper into the compound. He wanted to thin the numbers as much as he could before the arrival of his company. They would need to press on and observe the route to Kitsu, not be holed up in here.

The hallway straight ahead wound up as his choice. He pulled both swords free and began walking down it, trying to affect an uncaring appearance. His heightened senses paid off as the twang of arrows erupted from both sides of the hallway and he ducked out of the way. Murder holes revealed themselves set in to the halls.

Alton rolled forwards and stayed low as he continued on through the hall. It wrapped around a curve and opened to another chamber. A quick survey revealed six Edorians in the room, half with bows and half with swords. He advanced on the closest bow and cut it in half with a vicious upward swing from Fang. Fury took the soldier’s head clean off.

Arrows twanged through the room as the archers fired in desperation. Alton ducked and set his sights on the next two archers, surging and sprinting across the room. He stabbed the first one through the gut and took a hard swing on his left flank in return. Fang swept down to block the follow up and Alton jumped back to make space.

The three swordsmen advanced as one. Alton reached down and felt blood running down his side. He grimaced and activated manasight to see all three flaring brightly. Hubris had let him discount the swordsmen as common and focus on the archers. A mistake. Alton surged and infused both blades, charging at the three swordsmen.

He rolled low at the last minute and swept outwards with his blades. Contact was made with both sets of legs to his sides and the air whooshed beside his head as the two retaliatory strikes missed. The third caught him on his left biceps and he grunted in pain. A quick follow up finished one, and he turned to face the remaining two. An arrow caught him again on his left flank as he found himself exposed.

The two Thoiri scouts caught up and made their entrance. They focused on the archer and left the two swordsmen to Alton. He was limping now and felt more blood pooling on his uniform. Fury hung slightly limp in his hand, the bicep wound limiting his strength. Alton grinned at his two remaining foes, feeling alive in the throes of combat.

Alton used Fury as a weak distraction and focused on Fang with his good arm. He flashed forward and got inside the guard of the closest soldier. His cross guard battered the sword out of the way and he sliced the soldier across the gut. The dying soldier managed another slash against his back as he fell backwards.

One foe left and Alton reached out to his core. He had around ten seconds remaining of full strength surging. Making a snap decision to make the most of it, he threw Fury at the last Edorian, grunting in pain from the exertion. The soldier was caught off guard and had to use his blade to knock Fury out of the way. Alton spent his final burst of surge to follow Fury and stab the soldier through the gut. A look of pure hatred beamed out from the dying Edorian.

Alton slumped down against the wall and drank his final remaining health potion. He reached over and grunted as he ripped the arrow free of his side. The Thoiri finished off the archer and ran over to Alton. The older of the two bent down to bandage his wound, but Alton waved him off. He could feel the effects of the health potion setting in. He closed his eyes to cycle and let his body recover.

“Traps set. Ready for enemy.” One of them said.

Alton grunted and nodded, grateful for his allies to keep watch while he rested. The adrenaline of combat wore off, and Alton focused on cycling to accelerate his natural healing.

“Cycle it and circulate with a purpose. Do not let your mind wander. Feel the mana empowering your body and try to see it as a fundamental force of nature. Watch the ebb and flow as it enters and exits your core. There are more ways to advance than swinging a sword.” Jonah spoke to his small crowd of students.

Lews and Letty led the pack in the middle of the fourth tier. Without being able to see their nodes, he could only guess based on the brightness they generated in manasight. Ten people were sitting in the small room off the training yard. The Thoiri asked him the day prior to train a few of their younger members in the Agorran ways.

Jonah agreed without hesitation, though he doubted how much he could help. There were many Thoiri at the same tier as himself in the mountain, though most older and needed to maintain the dwelling. He had learned that the strongest warrior known to the Thoiri was in the eighth tier, fighting somewhere far below them against the spawn of Ulgarath.

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Jonah’s own practice had been revealing. He was able to use three mana blasts before exhausting his core. It would take much more practice to refine his control, but he felt like he would be able to manipulate the size of the blast to consume more or less mana. His imagination ran wild when he thought of the implications moving forward. Even without an arm, he could still prove a useful fighter.

His face drew down to a frown, and he reflexively tried to move his missing arm. For a scholar, losing his writing arm was as depressing as a swordsman losing their dominant arm. Lews had taken on the role of scribe for him since his injury, but that would change when the company marched. Jonah had decided to stay behind and continue to study with the Thoiri rather than be a liability in the coming battle.

Thuklu appeared suddenly in the doorway, and Jonah leapt up from his seat. His students turned to see what caused the commotion and jumped up as well. The older Thoiri man was sporting a few recent looking scars. His appearance without Alton caused Jonah’s heart to rise to his throat.

“Thuklu.” Was all Jonah managed to say.

“Learned one,” Thuklu returned with a bow. “Alton stay behind to fight. I leave with fighters in one hour.”

“Damnable fool!” Jonah muttered, and he saw Thuklu grin in response.

“Lews, go update Amelia. Prepare yourselves to march to relieve the captain.” Jonah said to his apprentice.

“Sir…Jonah,” Lews stammered and looked embarrassed.

“It’s okay, my boy. I will still be here when you take Kitsu and return. I promise to have many more tells to share, your not done with my lessons yet, far from it.” Jonah reached out and tugged at the man’s ear.

Lews playfully swatted it away and turned to share a look with Letty. They both moved out to the greater training yard to pass on the orders.

“You teach young ones. My thanks.” Thuklu said to Jonah, distracting him with a friendly smile.

“Ah…yes. Yes, I will continue to teach the young ones.” Jonah said and returned the smile.

—-

Amelia surveyed the arranged Thoiri warriors spread throughout the cavernous training yard. It was the end of the second day of drills, and the tribesmen had made impressive strides. They moved in units now, covering each other on retreats and amplifying each other on offensives. Her company was seeded with them, giving commands in her stead.

Someone must have seen what they were waiting for, as a segment of Thoiri charged ahead and assaulted a defensive position. Metal clanged against metal as swords, shields, and spears all joined the fray. She smiled as she saw a unit sneaking around to flank the aggressors and that movement was then matched by a perfectly timed counter movement from another aggressor unit.

These two days were an invaluable experience for her leading and organizing a larger number of troops. The daily sparring ladders and combat drills with their new weapons were also fruitful. She felt herself improved greatly in both one-on-one combat and one-on-three. Against a greater number of foes, she would follow Sergeant Yuri’s favorite advice run.

She flexed her new gauntlet and looked down to admire her new armor. It felt like wearing a thick set of clothes during winter. She was able to move and flex in remarkable ways, yet it deflected every blow they had tested. Even Prian infusing wasn’t able to pierce through the breastplate. The biggest challenge now would be to stay humble, not charging off arrogantly into hordes like a certain captain…

Amelia sighed and checked the entrance tunnel to the training yard. He was supposed to return by now to collect his armor and the company. Knowing him, he was deep in mortal danger while they fought with practice blades in fake wars. Surprise caught her sigh in her throat when she saw Lews and Letty running to her from the entrance.

“Sergeant. Jonah sent me, Thuklu has returned. The captain stayed behind to fight the Edorians inside the outpost. We are to leave in one hour to relieve him. The journey will take six hours at a jog,” Lews reported and snapped a crisp salute.

“Damnit Alton…” Amelia muttered and dismissed the healer.

“Form up!” Amelia shouted and brought the company and Thoiri to attention.

“Captain Alton remained at the outpost to serve as a rear guard. We set out in one hour. It is a six-hour journey. Supplies are prepared and waiting for us in the south mess hall. See the healers if needed and equip your new armor and weapons. Dismissed.” Amelia ordered.

She turned and briskly walked out of the training yard and towards the armory. Amelia still felt awkward giving orders like that to her friends. As the sergeant of a team of eight, she had felt out of place, now as the sergeant of a company of more than twenty? It was much worse. The captain’s new set of armor was still waiting in the armory for him after being resized, so she let that distract her from her anxiety of leading Wolf company in his stead.

—-

Alton woke to shouting and commotion coming from the hallway outside of the room. Neither of the Thoiri scouts were inside and his heart rate jumped up. Adrenaline surged as he considered his options. He reached down to feel his side and came away with fresh blood, not healed yet. His bicep was better, but he wouldn’t be fighting at full strength.

He rocked himself up to his heels and suppressed a groan. Slowly and carefully, he slid around the room until he was positioned near the entrance. He pulled both swords free and prepared himself. His best chance at taking out whatever came through was to be quick and decisive.

Mana flowed from his core, and he infused both blades. Angling them behind his body to try to prevent the glow from alerting his foes. The shouting grew more intense and Alton strained his ears. It sounded like a female voice and she was…speaking Agorran? Relief flooded through his body when he heard a Thoiri accent bark in return. He let his mana flow subdue.

He slunk back down against the wall and watched as both scouts walked in, dragging someone between them. They looked to where he had been and froze, dropping the woman roughly and pulled weapons free. Alton gave a cough to announce himself and the tension fled both scouts. The woman took her chances and started running back down the hall with a strong limp.

One of the Thoiri cursed and chased her back down, dragging her back by her arms. She continued to shout in what sounded like different languages. It was like she changed her language of choice with every word. Alton studied her while the Thoiri tied her arms and legs together. She was medium height with olive-toned skin and long dark hair tied in braids.

Beautiful and intelligent green eyes opposed a vicious scowl she wore. She was dressed in a shift that barely covered her body and looked underfed. Alton noticed scrapes and bruises all along her legs and arms as she fought the Thoiri. When she turned and caught him staring, she scowled even deeper.

“See anything you like, bastard?” She asked in perfect Agorran.

Alton rocked back in shock at her accent. It was a perfect imitation of the accent of an Agorrath local. He looked her up and down again but was sure with her skin tone and look she was not from Agorrath, nor Agorra at all.

“You speak Agorran?” Alton probed.

“Finally, one of you savages ASKS A QUESTION INSTEAD OF ATTACKING.” She screamed right into the face of a scout.

The scout raised his hand to hit her but Alton halted him. “Stop. Leave her be for now. Guard the doorway to stop her from running.”

“I am Captain Alton of the Third Army of Agorra. These are Thoiri scouts of Thornwur. What is your name?” He asked her.

“Congratulations, oh great Captain of Agorra! Capturing a lone Speaker being held hostage must be a great honor for you and your dogs.” She replied with a voice dripping with venom.

Alton sighed and stood up. His side was pulsating with pain from the arrow, and he took in a deep breath to test his ribs. He rolled his shoulders and set himself to face her.

“I care not of the abuse you may have suffered if this is how you will act. Insult me or my men again and I assume you to be an Edorian soldier and slit your throat. I have a running tally and adding another to it will not trouble me.” Alton said and pointed to the bodies piled up on the other side of the room. He surged and infused both blades again for dramatic effect.

The absolute and uncaring tone of his voice visibly rattled the woman. She stared at his blades and then the bodies piled up and gulped. He watched her war with herself in her mind before she spoke again.

“My name is Seka. I am a Speaker of the Rill.” She said.

“How is it that you speak Agorran and Thoiri?” Alton asked her.

“You don’t know…,” she started in disbelief but quickly changed her tone “you don’t know of speakers?”

“Assume I don’t,” Alton ordered, losing patience fast.

“I…A speaker is…” she paused and thought for a moment. “I use mana to translate my words into the language of the listener and vice versa. I am speaking the language of my people and you hear it as Agorran. The people of my country, Rill, are famous for this ability. It is why Edoria conquered us and uses us as slaves. We serve as scholars and translators for their great houses and military.”

“A slave?” Alton repeated.

She nodded her head. “I have belonged to the Crown Prince Yul’Niara since I was born, as have most of my family.”

“Crown Prince Yul’..” Alton muttered to himself.

“Is this why Edoria sends its armies and elites to conquer Agorra? To make us slaves as well?” He asked Seka.

She started to laugh, but stopped at the look on his face. “I’m sorry! Please! I… to hear the Niara referred to as elites would be a jest anywhere else. Alton, we have much to discuss. I can be a great help to you. Please untie me and allow me to cover myself, eat and drink. I have been held in this outpost for many weeks, I beg this of you.” She finished with a plea.

Alton weighed the decision in his mind. In his manasight, she appeared to be in the third or fourth tier with no visible nodes. Her reaction to his threat earlier was the conceit of a master or genuine fear. He and the two Thoiri should be able to handle her if she proved a threat. They had already captured her twice, after all.

He nodded over to the Thoiri and one walked over and untied her bonds. Alton pointed out a cloak from a dead Edorian and the woman scrambled over to it and wrapped it about herself. He sent the scout back to their small base of operations to get some food and water. They waited in a comfortable silence for him to return. Alton cycled but kept his eyes open and mind ready.