Rigel wakes up alone in a wet, grassy field that stretches to the horizon. It's a plain landscape that one could find almost anywhere in Amisos kingdom. Continuous waves of rain fall down from above with no sign of interruption. Although it's daytime, it seems like dusk. Not a single ray of sunlight can pierce the thick layer of clouds.
"It's cold..."
These are the first words he utters as his body trembles visibly. Hypothermia settled in while he was unconscious. The temperature dropped with the arrival of the storm and the wind makes it seem much colder than it actually is. A dull pain lingers in his muscles and limbs.
"Damn rain, can't even use fire to warm up. Enhancement magic is probably too much strain in my condition."
He wipes the rainwater from his face and looks around. There is nothing but sparse vegetation as far as he can see, though that isn't far since the rain has shrunk his field-of-view to a few hundred meters. He can, however, see the bloody and decapitated corpse of his horse nearby, as well as some dark shapes lying in the grass which he recognizes as humans. Slowly, the memories begin to tickle in.
"So it wasn't a dream..."
Falling off the horse, getting kicked around by Councilor Hadwin's mercenaries and then fighting them, the pain and the shouting, he remembers everything that took place. His memories are hazy, as though it all took place in a dream, but he remembers nonetheless.
"What was that voice? Did I hit my head too hard?"
Reaching for the healing potion, chanting magic and dodging the ensuing attacks by the mercenaries, Rigel is the one who did these things. However, the entire time there was a mysterious voice in his head.
"As if I didn't have enough to worry about, now I'm hallucinating voices."
The obvious conclusion is that the blow he received to the head is responsible. Among the many books Rigel read during his studies at the Academy are those that discuss health and the human body. Some explained the known effects of head injuries, one of which is hallucinations. Victims often hear and sometimes see things which aren't real. A common symptom is hearing disembodied voices which the victims experience as clearly as any real voice.
"It's either that or I'm going crazy. Gamo did say that war can drive men mad. Maybe this is what he meant."
His eyes wander to the human and animal cadavers left behind from his fight. The bodies are lifeless and cold. Some mana lingers in a body for some time, but it is static. The lack of mana flow means death.
As Rigel utters a chant, soft movement is seen in the ground. A layer of soil is pulled up by magic power and used to cover the corpses, including the one belonging to his horse. He then piles more soil on top of it and hardens everything with another spell so that the rain won't wash it off.
"That ought to do. Even mercenary killers deserve a simple grave. Maybe someone else will return the favor if I die on the battlefield..."
It's said that unburied souls never make it to the Underworld. These forsaken spirits are left to wander alone for eternity, confused and tormented by their inability to move on.
"I've been surrounded by scenes similar to this ever since I left Delos. Some of it was done by my hand. I thought I would feel some sadness, some remorse, something."
Rigel led a fairly quiet life in the country's capital. Before the civil war, the only violent experiences he ever had were just mock battles at the Magic Academy. As a mage engaged in dangerous research, he came close to dying on occasion but he never experienced death and destruction on the scale he witnessed in the past months. The carnage he is embroiled in is like a different world. Experiencing it is like crossing into a new reality. It changes something fundamental in the hearts of men and is known to create trauma which endures a lifetime.
Rigel is questioning how little he is affected, at his own lack of reaction to the carnage which surrounds him. Reports say that tens of thousands of civilians died in the destruction of his home, Delos. Many people he knew were likely among them. His research and everything he worked for is lost. When he remembers this, not a single tear is shed. All he feels is intense anger, a pure rage which overpowers everything else. Was he always this cold-hearted and just never realized it?
"... Revenge is all I have now. Death is all I have now. Death and revenge..."
He mouths the words like a grim chant, a mantra which he can't escape. Then, when it feels like he's about to drown in the growing darkness within, a ray of light suddenly pierces through. A thought, a hope which promises better things to come.
"Ah, that's right. I promised Nashira I would help with her quest."
There are people waiting for him to come back alive and well. This thought alone gives him hope. His anger fades as quickly as it appeared. While standing upright like a statue, he returns to a quasi-meditative state which calms his emotions and sharpens his focus. A mage is considered strongest while in this state. His legs start moving, slowly at first and then he breaks into a sprint. Pain stabs at his legs like a knife, but he simply endures it and keeps running.
He goes straight toward a particular location in the vicinity. His trained eyes can see waves of mana erupting from the distance in all directions, like streaks of colorful light. These secondary waves are created as a by-product of mana discharge.
"There's still a battle here which requires my attention."
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As Rigel approaches the scene, the ground beneath him rumbles. Tremors caused by powerful shocks can be felt through the thick soles on his shoes. Even before he can see them, massive surges of mana allow him to sense the precise location of the battle. The sound of heavy rain around him is overwhelmed by the ringing clash of steel nearby.
He suppresses his own aura so as not to be found and slows his pace as he nears the area. The scene he arrives at could only be described as a battered landscape. Large gashes are strewn across the earth like the claw marks of some enormous beast. Felled trees and ruined vegetation area spread over hundreds of meters. Several spots bear the mark of magical blasts with grass ripped from its roots in a circular area. A trained eye can tell that the fight must have begun in a different spot than where it's currently taking place.
In the middle of this damaged landscape, several figures are dashing around at high speed, in a deadly dance of pure chaos. The heavy rain and darkened sky makes them barely visible even from a short distance, but Rigel can identify them. Every living creature’s aura is unique and those with finely-tuned senses can detect the differences.
Inaya, Gamo, Asher, Qasim and Mikel. As expected, all of them are still alive. However—
The sound of explosions and ringing steel is almost deafening. Flashes of magic power occasionally brighten the area for a few seconds at a time, allowing him to get a better look. The two large figures in the center are the warrior Mikel and one of the mercenaries. They are engaged in an intense melee fight. Asher and Qasim attack cautiously from the flanks while the mages, Gamonias and Inaya, support them with magic from a distance.
Is that him? The one with the enchanted axe?
After seeing it briefly once before, Rigel recognizes the aura of the man fighting Mikel. It's the mercenary mage whose weapon almost killed Rigel during the mounted chase. He believed him to be a mage due to his brilliant aura, but now he is forced to reconsider this assumption. The man is wielding his crescent axe with both hands and slashing at his opponent with strength that only the greatest of warriors are capable of. No, even that is an understatement. Mikel is a Gold-ranked warrior and his swings are already at the limit of what human strength can achieve. His axe-wielding opponent is beyond that. Every strike is too fast for the human eye to follow.
Mikel is the strongest warrior in Bloodmoon. His rank in the Warrior’s Guild isn’t just for show. An ordinary opponent would not even be able to trade blows with him. He has more raw physical strength than Asher and Qasim team combined and his swordsmanship is excellent too. In another army, he might’ve been selected for a lofty position like a general or elite royal guard. Despite these facts, he is struggling against a single opponent. Even while using his experience to anticipate and deflect his enemy's superhuman blows with his large claymore, he is being pushed back. If the rest of his team wasn't assisting him, the battle would be lost already.
The mercenaries said something about a comrade of theirs named Titus. He must be the one. They weren't joking about his strength...
Of the original five mercenaries, one is nowhere to be seen. The three others have visible injuries, implying that they took part in the battle at some point and were defeated. Now they stand at a safe distance with their mouths hanging open as they watch their comrade fights against Bloodmoon's best soldiers single-handedly. Even they weren't aware just how mighty he is.
Standing at two heads taller than Mikel, the axe-wielding warrior is a veritable giant. He towers over everyone else. The shirt and cloak he wore have mostly been torn off during the fight, revealing thick, rippling muscles underneath. His head is naturally bald and he exudes an animalistic vitality. He could probably crush rocks with his bare hands, like the heroes of legend.
Asher's team are undoubtedly among the best fighters in Zamora. To think a man exists who could fight them by himself. Is he even human?
The axe-wielding warrior possesses more than just strength. He also has defense. When he swings the axe at Mikel, an opening is created which Asher and Qasim use to move in and strike. It's obvious the swords hit their mark, but the damage is inexplicably small. A hit which should cause a deep wound ends up being little more than a scratch. The man is not wearing any armor. His back and arms are covered with shallow cuts from numerous sword blows, yet he doesn't bleed. A radiant aura envelops his body from head to toe, acting like an immaterial suit of armor.
"Heartseeker"
"Cascading Force"
"Mind Flay"
While the three warriors on their team restrict the enemy's movements, Inaya and Gamo bombard him with dark and arcane spells. Around half of the spells are dodged and even the half that hit have little to no effect. Combining speed, strength and extraordinary defenses, the man is an unstoppable juggernaut. It's no wonder even Bloodmoon's best fighters can't bring him down with their combined efforts. The dishonor of ganging up on him one versus five doesn't even cross their minds. At this point it's taking everything they have just to fight evenly.
It must be magic. Some kind of barrier is protecting him and stopping his wounds from bleeding. Could it be similar to Nashira's barrier? She said it only blocks magic, but his works on both magical and physical attacks. A warrior-mage who can take on any enemy and win, truly impressive! Who is this guy? I haven’t heard of anyone who matches his appearance.
An awe-inspiring scene is unfolding in front of Rigel, a clash which can give birth to stories that last for centuries. A clash between some of the best fighters humanity has to offer and another one who has surpassed that. Rigel watches with fascination while remaining hidden at a safe distance. He follows behind them as they move and absorbs every moment into memory. He pays special attention to the warrior-mage.
I’m starting to under to understand where he gets that seemingly superhuman strength. His swings are accelerated by magic. He is artificially increasing his weapon’s momentum. Wind or arcane magic can’t do this. It must be chaos magic. It’s hard to see from here, but from the way his mana flows out it’s very likely he has mana circuits. A warrior who can use chaos magic…
Unlike an ordinary aura, the thick veil of mana surrounding the warrior-mage has a clear form. It is, in fact, the result of Origin chaos magic. Rigel’s Origin manifests as a pair of translucent wings, but the warrior-mage appears to be wearing a vibrant coat of transparent armor.
Nashira said that the Origin manifests differently for everyone. It depends on the person’s state of mind when the rite of passage is performed. Mine was created when I was locked in a jail cell, so it takes the shape of wings because I wanted freedom. His looks almost like armor. Is that what’s protecting him? Is it really possible to wear your Origin like a suit of armor? I should ask about this when we return…
The intense battle between Bloodmoon’s elite and the powerful warrior-mage reaches its peak. The Gold-rank warrior Mikel has a look full of ecstasy, even as his life hangs in the balance. For a man like him, there are few worthy opponents in the world. Facing someone so much stronger is the thrill of a lifetime. His passion was ignited by this clash against the man called Titus. Every muscle is strained to the limit. He wants to win, of course, but if he were to lose and die here, he would be happy nonetheless. Facing a powerful enemy with all his strength and dying with sword in hand, there is no greater satisfaction for Mikel. His entire existence is characterized by his passion for battle. This moment could be called the pinnacle of his life, the thing he desires most.
The man crossing blades with him also has a happy look on his face. He laughs heartily.
"Hahaha! Very good! Your fighting is very good!"
The fighting eventually relents and the warriors step back to catch their breaths, the muscular giant gives an honest compliment to his opponents. His speech has a thick accent, different from the other mercenaries. It suggests he wasn't born in the Athenite Empire or anywhere else in the region. Now that he stands still, the man's imposing stature becomes even more apparent. If Rigel stood next to him, he would have to look straight up.
"I fought many strong ones but you are first to last so long." The words are directed toward Mikel.
"Thanks, means a lot comin' from you" Mikel replies between drawn-out breaths, evidently tired from the fight.
"In my country, we kendov, we warriors have a custom. When fighting strong opponent, we give our name. I am called Sigleif. Others say Titus but is only a nickname. Call me Sigleif."
"I'm Mikel. Friends call me Mikel. It's a pleasure fightin' you, proud warrior."
"Same to you. All of you strong."
While the two warriors exchange words, the others remain silent. Asher and Qasim don't seem inclined to talk. Inaya and Gamo even less so. All of them are exhausted from the constant strain of fighting. Both mages have spent two thirds of their mana pools trying everything they could to break Sigleif's defenses. Despite his stature, the giant is remarkably nimble. Only the weaker, faster spells were able to hit and those barely do any damage. Their teammate, Mikel, would step back every time a bigger spell was fired and this allowed Sigleif to anticipate and react. The fact that he dodged certain attacks indicates that his defense is not impenetrable. He can be defeated. The only question is how much will it take. The team could not find a way to pin him down. The situation might've been different if their arsenal of spells wasn't restricted by the thunderstorm.
Rigel continues to observe from afar. He can sense the increasing exhaustion and distress in his allies. On the other hand, the muscular giant Sigleif still has strength to spare. His aura diminished far less than his opponents and his breath is steady.
Not just strength, he also has incredible stamina and endurance. They were able to fight evenly so far but if it goes on like this, they might actually lose.
He makes note of the fact that Sigleif has not used any ranged spells. Could it be because he can’t or is he still holding back? The enchantment which accelerates his attacks and the barrier which protects him are the only magic he used thus far. There is also a wind enchantment which doesn't require any input from the user. Powerful abilities sometimes place restrictions. If this is the case for Sigleif, it’s a weakness which can be exploited. Through his mock battles with other mages at the Magic Academy, Rigel learned to analyze strengths and weaknesses to the last detail. Adapting and countering his opponents’ techniques has always been one of his strengths.
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"What about them?" Mikel says in a rough voice aimed at the other three mercenaries. "They here just to watch?” he asks mockingly.
The muscular giant nods. "Battlefield is for kendov, not cowards. Nust vodun himdah voth niist nuvah!"
Sounding almost like a chant, the foreign words could not be understood by the mercenaries who do not speak Sigleif's native language. However, his tone full of contempt showed that he was not making a compliment. The flustered mercenaries grit their teeth. The shame of being treated as cowards cuts deeply. It’s the feeling they detest most of all.
"We... We are not cowards!" one of them protests.
"That's right! We’re the Sons of Bellerophon, the most feared warband in the Empire! Mock us and we skin you alive!" another one threatens.
Henin Asher, who is listening attentively, has a thin smile. The mercenaries had taken measures to conceal their identity so far, but now they let it slip in an effort to save face. The Sons of Bellerophon are well-known in the Athenite Empire and its surroundings. Just by blurting out that name, the situation becomes clearer. A well-known mercenary group can't simply appear in another kingdom on a whim. Someone influential from the Athenite Empire is involved, perhaps someone with ties to the Emperor himself. Asher suspected that someone outside of Amisos was implicated in the civil war and now he's certain of it. Now they have a lead to pursue. If they find the connections, the strings which tie everything together, they can plan accordingly.
The three flustered mercenaries ready their swords and straighten their postures. With their pride on the line, they bear the pain of their wounds and charge half-heartedly toward Asher's team. From their clash earlier, they know the opponents are stronger. They do not have the conviction to win. All that drives them is the fear of being disgraced in the eyes of their comrades. This kind of weak resolve can be broken easily.
"Wrath of the Sky Dragon"
Wind magic appears as a whirlpool of pure mana aimed at the unfortunate mercenaries. Ripping grass off the ground as it moves, the blast hits all three targets at the same time, knocking them off their feet mid-charge. For a Class 4 wind spell, the weight of a human body is no different than a leaf in the wind. They land on muddy ground a dozen meters further away, alive but barely conscious.
Everyone present is startled. Had they been the targets, the attack would've caught them unaware. They look in the direction it came from, trying to find the caster. A class 4 spell uses a lot of mana and can only be cast by a skilled mage. Such a mage would have an equally powerful aura which could be sensed well before he arrived within striking range. It's not the spell itself that was startling, but rather the fact that no one saw it coming. Rigel had fully concealed his aura, an ability granted by his mana circuits. He released it as he chanted the spell, which only took a moment, and then immediately concealed his aura again. From the others' perspective, it's like the magic came out of nowhere.
Several pairs of eyes look in his direction, but they struggle to see anything though the rain and wind. Rigel chooses to lay low and use the grass as cover. He waits to see what the reaction will be from either side.
“Nikriin. Death find you.”
The first to move is the muscular giant Sigleif. He changes the grip on his weapon and swings sideways at full strength. At first it looks like he's attacking Mikel, but the axe misses and flies sideways as the grip is released. It rotates around its center of gravity like a spinning top, giving it a curved trajectory. The magic power within is activated which increases the weapon’s already dizzying speed.
This is the same trick he used earlier.
Focusing his entire aura on himself, Rigel vanishes like a puff of smoke. The axe falls on the spot he used to be, creating a blastwave of pure wind pressure and leaving a small crater in the ground. Rigel reappears a short distance away. His decision to teleport rather than simply dodge turned out to be the right one.
No shield or magic could fully block that. Quite the scary fellow we’re up against.
With his mage’s eyes, Rigel can see mana tethers which stretch like glowing strings from the enchanted axe all the way to Sigleif. These are the control mechanism. Mana tethers are used to send signals which a catalyst interprets as an ‘order’ and reacts accordingly. They take the role of a magic chant. It seems like Sigleif threw the weapon away, but that’s deceptive. He could call it back at any moment as long as these tethers remain. The weapon can essentially move itself through the power of the catalyst.
A relatively simple and highly effective magic system. My Fire Tempest uses the same control scheme, just without a solid weapon. I wonder where he got it. Did he develop this magic himself? He doesn't seem the type.
Asher’s group is, of course, already familiar with the special abilities of Sigleif’s weapon. They have seen it and felt it in battle. They know it would take their opponent at least a few moments to recover his weapon. Sigleif's bloodthrist is no longer directed at them. His attention is focused on finding Rigel. This should be the best time to strike him down, yet nobody moves.
Seeing such indecisiveness in his team, the cool-headed captain directs his words at his subordinate who stands closest to their enemy.
"Mikel, why are you just standing there? The enemy is in front of you without a weapon. This was your chance."
"For honor, captain. 'Tis an enemy I respect greatly. He showed us honor, I do the same."
"... If only that honor of yours was more consistent." Asher sighs while muttering under his breath.
Seeing that the muscular giant Sigleif did not follow up on his initial attack, Rigel decides to take a risk. He dashes through the grass as quickly as his weakened legs can carry him. He finds the enchanted axe which dug into the earth and grips the cold handle with both hands. Then, he releases all of the aura at his disposal and forces it into the weapon. The catalyst inside the axe vibrates with energy, disturbed by the young mage’s aura.
The tether link can be broken if I overwhelm the catalyst’s mana flow. There, it's done. Now he can’t recall the weapon. He will have to take it back with his own hands.
With the tethers disconnected, the enchanted axe becomes a tool like any other. As long as they understand how it functions, others can wield it. The main difficulty lies in manipulating the chaos magic enchantment.
Now I need to synchronize my aura with the weapon's. It’s like sewing together blood veins to create a new channel; a sensitive task but well within my ability.
Rigel’s aura moves erratically like a candle flame in the wind. All his concentration is focused on the cold steel in his grip and the invisible transfer of energy within. He visualizes the flow as a system of blood vessels which intertwine and lead to the central ‘heart’, the catalyst which controls the enchantment. He allows its mana to flow into his hands and back out, as if it were a part of him. With the link established, chaos magic applies a kinetic force and the axe’s weight becomes negligible. With one hand, Rigel easily lifts the metallic weapon and rests it on his shoulder. Translucent wings of mana emerge out of his back at the same time and shine bright enough for all to see. Without physical form, these beautiful manifestations of his Origin are unperturbed by wind and rain alike. They create a jarring contrast with Rigel's ragged appearance. He then walks forward boldly, putting on airs on confidence.
"Goraan jul. The one hiding appears?" Sigleif asks in a clear, imposing voice.
“It is indeed. I was watching your excellent battle from afar. That was the second time today you threw this axe at me. Perhaps I should keep it?”
"Ho ho~ So you say."
The giant rubs his prominent chin with a pensive posture while he studies the new arrival, sizing him up. Even while relaxed, his perfectly-chiseled muscles can make any man jealous. He doesn't look concerned at having his back toward Mikel. This could be seen as belittling his opponent, but after their talk earlier it could also be seen as trust. He is confident they won't attack him with his back turned.
“Boy, this is our fight! You are not needed!”
A loud voice comes from Mikel, his rough voice almost cracking as he shouts. The frustrated, angry look on him means he is deadly serious. It’s the face of a man who sees something precious being taken from him. How will he react if his demand is ignored? Will he go so far as to attack Rigel and anyone else who stands in is way?
Should’ve expected this from a battle-crazed maniac... What happens to the mission now? I doubt he's thought that far. Ugh, this is why I hate muscle-heads, Rigel thinks to himself.
His eyes turn to captain Asher who simply nods in response. Is that an affirmative? He then meets Gamonias’ gaze. The man seems relieved to see Rigel still alive and in one piece, but he doesn’t have anything to say about this awkward turn of events. He surely has lots of questions about the glowing mana-wings on Rigel's back but now is not the time to voice them. Rigel himself doesn’t have any particular desire to fight and his confident demeanor is a pretense to hide the fact that he is tired and injured just like the others. He wanted to force Sigleif to abandon the fight, but that plan was ruined by Mikel. There’s only one choice to make.
"This has become rather different from what I was told... Fine then, you can have this back" Rigel says as he takes a few more steps forward. Then, with a wide and smooth motion, he lifts the axe off his shoulder and throws it hard toward Sigleif. The magic inside is activated, adding kinetic energy to the weapon and forcing it to spin on its axis similarly to Sigleif’s throws but much slower than the attack which nearly claimed Rigel’s neck. The glowing mana-wings vanish as his connection to the chaos magic within the weapon is interrupted.
The giant makes no attempt to dodge. He stretches out a thick, chiseled arm and easily catches the axe by its handle. The weapon’s aura flutters happily as if it’s glad to return to its rightful owner.
“To wield Sleipnir easily, you are Kogaan? If so, we are friends... brothers. Ones favored by the gods, lord Odin grants us strength.”
A bunch of unfamiliar terms come out of the giant's mouth. His thick accent when speaking makes him harder to understand as well. Rigel focuses on the term he vaguely remembers reading about.
“Odin? Are you from the far North?”
“That is so. Sigleif is Kogaan from the white North, a far land. I journey, train and do battle. That is my purpose. I journey south to find greater enemies.”
Another battle-maniac... That other word he keeps using must be a reference to chaos magic. Being able to use chaos magic means we're blessed by the gods, is that it? Though I don't agree, I can understand why he might think that.
Rigel's first thought is that he's dealing with someone similar to Mikel who only looks forward to the next battle. If that's the case, it's unlikely to end without more bloodshed. However, the muscular giant in front of him seems eager to talk. There may be something to gain here.
"So I'm blessed you say. I haven't felt blessed in a long time. I fight because I have to, not because I want to."
Sigleif smiles. “The Great Dragon says the Kogaan are free. We go where we want, eat what we want, fight when we want. Only one rule... The Dragon says do not fight each other. We Kogaan are kin - brothers of different blood. There is no fight among brothers. If there is dispute, the Dragon will settle it.”
"Who is this Dragon you speak of? Someone famous?"
"The Great Dragon is herald of the gods. He teaches Kogaan the right path. I follow to become strong, others follow to live long, others to obtain something lost. The Great Dragon welcomes us all under his wings, unites us, makes us stronger. Through him, we reach the godly realm."
Is he talking about a literal dragon from the legends?
From times immemorial, the dragons were said to be majestic creatures who dominated the skies. They mysteriously disappeared sometime before the rise of human civilization. Similarly to demons, they are creatures of myth and legend. From time to time, there are people who claim to have seen a live one but such reports remain unverified and become little more than folk tales. Unlike the elusive demons however, dragons left behind bones and other evidence which prove that they actually existed at some point. Since none were confirmed alive, it's assumed that they went extinct long ago. The reason why such powerful and feared creatures disappeared is still a hotly debated topic among historians, academics and even religious scholars.
This fellow's words imply that he's spoken to a live dragon. Well, I did see a talking demon in the mines of Tyrin with my own eyes. Nothing should surprise me anymore.
Sigleif continues with enthusiasm. "The Dragon dwells in the North. Do you want to meet him? As Kogaan, you have this right. Sigleif can show you the way."
That would take who knows how many years.
"Thanks for the offer but I have business in this country so I can't leave yet."
Clear disappointment can be seen on the bald giant's face. Despite his rugged exterior, it almost seems like the innocent face of a young boy whose playmate turned him down. He wears his emotions on his sleeve, unlike Asher's group who were trained to keep them hidden. This thought improves Rigel's opinion of him. He likes dealing with plain and easy-to-read people like this. Back in Delos, such people were hard to find, especially among the nobility.
Something about him reminds me of my old friend from the Academy. I don't sense any malice or deception. Even though he almost killed me earlier, I still like him more than the cutthroats in Bloodmoon. Doesn't seem like he wants a fight either. His words earlier were serious.
"Another time I will do as you say and meet this Dragon you mentioned" Rigel decides to add.
Sigleif shows a smile again and nods. "The Dragon welcomes the Kogaan, always. No rush."
The muscular giant rests his axe on the ground and looks at the darkened sky. His urge to fight is now gone completely, extinguished like a flame by the cold rain which pours down without pause. He turns to face the others. None of them have moved a step from where they stood before. Only Mikel still holds an aggressive posture. It would seem that he is the last one who still wishes to fight. Of course, even if they had tried a sneak attack, Sigleif would've sensed it. His defensive magic never faltered while he spoke to Rigel.
"Warrior Mikel, today is enough. Eat, sleep, rest. We continue our battle another time."
Mikel's eyes widen momentarily, but he comes to an understanding in his mind and relaxes his stance. "Understood. Other opportunities will come. I hope to face you again, great warrior."
With those words, the peerless warrior Sigleif rests the enchanted axe on his shoulder and walks away from the group at a lazy pace. Asher's hawk-like gaze follows the muscular giant as he slowly makes his way back. Judging by his direction, he is heading toward the army camps instead of his comrades. No attempt is made to stop him.