It took Daz a while to ward off the prince that showered him with questions. After explaining to him who he was where he had been born, what he was eating usually and so on and so forth, the man left with a concerned look on his face. Luckily he returned shortly after and explained to him that it was not such a big deal.
Apparently Daz’s magical talent was high, but different than others. That happened from time to time, around every ten to fifteen years. While Daz was the most powerful of these cases so far, there had never been any person able to wield powerful magic with a black result. Thus he was branded with a silver cross. It hurt a lot at first but the pain faded quickly.
Quite confused and honestly concerned, Daz decided to keep his mark a secret. Maybe he would reveal it while being tested later. But it was something he wanted to keep to himself. The black concerned him, he did not want to be a necromancer. If the color meant that he was talented in handling the undead he could really kiss marriage goodbye.
All this hate for necromancers. Can’t a man raise a family in peace?
When he returned to the pub, his soldier friend already drowned himself in alcohol again. It was barely three hours past midday. How could he even drink anything now? Sitting down he thought about the upcoming test and the nervousness let him take the bottle. One deep sip and a burning sensation in his throat later Daz felt much better. “No luck, huh?” - “Not really.” The man shrugged. “Sucks, but hey. Most people can’t.”
Daz continued to drink and fest with his friend that night and prepared for his test mentally before falling asleep. He had barely touched alcohol and switched to apple juice after a while. A very wise decision. The morning was rather pleasant, he woke up early, took another cold bath and left for the academy. There he watched the normal officer test take place.
Daz was not able to see a whole lot, but a large obstacle course with ridiculous hindrances was set up. What he saw there made Daz a little concerned. A watchtower with guards, a real wall, different large animals (some clearly predators) and a lot of climbing seemed to be on focus. A lot of the recruits that were tested had magic abilities to blind, shoot or tie up the guards and animals or enhanced skills to jump higher.
Thinking about his own skill set, which was absolutely nothing, he shivered. He did not really want to take the test anymore, but he had no choice. And while he watched the concern made time fly. Soon it was time for him to take his own exam. As he appeared at the northern area the guard eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want here?” - “I am here for the exam?” The guard looked at him with disbelieve. “Huh. Alright. You don’t look so strong, are you sur-” Daz grumbled annoyed. “Yes. I am certain.” - “Alright. My bad. Follow me.”
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Hakuro downed another glass of blackthorn liquor. The young lad really had been good to him. Inviting him to drinks, food and above all: over sixty silver. No small amount and one he would take good care off. He already had two plans. One was Alihra and the other Narkana. The two classy ladies worked at a pleasure house down the street. And he would visit them every night starting today. Both.
The money would last him at least a couple of weeks, depending on how wasteful he was aside from the two women. He really had more luck than was good for him. The young farmer boy had been really too naive. Believed every word he had said and followed his advice to the heart. Hakuro downed another. He was almost sad to have sent the boy to his death. A little extreme for a bit of silver that he would waste away anyway.
Ever since the war he was not the same anymore. He drank too much, drowned his sorrows in booze and women. It was a simple matter to tell the lad a later time for his test and pretend it was the bribed and special one. Little did the boy know, this would be no officers test. It was the future general’s exam. Once you entered that you either succeed or you ended up dead. The military valued the old ways and that rule was hard tradition. Only the strong shall lead. Literally.
Hakuro drank another glass of liquor and took a big bite out of a dried meat stick. Meh. The boy would be dead by now anyway. No use thinking about it…
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Daz entered the large platform. With about two hundred meters in diameter this arena was rather huge. A tall wall shielded it from outside view as well. Nervously he put his bag to a wall and equipped his sword and shield. Then he stretched his body and moved around a bit. According to the man that brought him here his examiners would arrive soon.
Really glad about the fact that he had met Hakuro two days ago he awaited his trial. Without the old man he would have had to run the obstacle course, that was clearly designed to be done with magic. And Daz had none. Here in an arena he could show his power. He was really confident about his power. Never in his life he had encountered anyone that could have matched him in strength and toughening up his body all his whole life was not worth nothing.
He looked up to the sky thanking his parents for this opportunity. Them saving up money for a whole year had made this possible. He also thought about his sisters for a bit and prayed for their wellbeing. With the weather a bit cloudy, the temperature in the arena was pretty enjoyable. Then he focused on the two men, which just had stepped into the arena. They were still far away on the other side and he imitated their slow approach to the middle.
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As he got closer to the center, the figures became more apparent. Both of them were clothed in army uniforms, without any indication on their ranks. Although Daz could not verify it, he felt like they had a aura of authority around them. They were used to give orders. The left guy was mainly clothed in leather and shouldered a huge bow that about half his size. On his hip a quiver filled with arrows.
Daz grew more nervous. He was not confident he would be able to handle arrows being fired upon him. Luckily the second man did not look like a magician. He was a walking fortress of steel. Plate boots, gloved and a impressive army breastplate made him appear very dominant. He carried a mace one side like a hammer, the other was a short edged piece of metal that probably was able to cave in torsos or shields with a single impact. On his back he carried a enormous shield that was as large as Daz.
The marksman was well shaven and stood in heavy contrast to the melee fighter. The warrior had a thick beard and many scars, totally different than his leathery counterpart. Finally they stood before Daz. The ranger spoke first. “Last chance to back out, boy.” Daz smiled. “Never.” The fighter grinned from Daz’s response. “Ha. I like him. Let me take him on.” The ranger shrugged and backed off.
Daz eyed his opponent warily as he drew his shield from the back and equipped his mace. The man brimmed with experience and nervousness grew. But this was a test. They would know how to control themselves. “All right. What kind of magic are you using? Show me.”
The mountain of steel in front of Daz readied himself defensively. Magic? He had no such thing.
Shrugging himself, Daz dashed forward quickly. Two large jumping steps and he was right in front of the large shield. He bashed his own wooden shield into it with about half his power. His opponent was pushed back as his steel plated shoes screeched over the stone. A satisfying feeling sending this large warrior a few meters away with just his shield punch.
The warrior made big eyes. “Huh. Pretty strong aren’t we? So you are using magic to amplify your strikes? Sadly your gear doesn’t hold.” Confused upon that remark Daz noticed that his shield was completely busted. Barely a few splinters of wood had remained on the leather band he he had used to hold the shield. With a big sigh, Daz ripped the last wood off the leather and bound it around his right fist.
In his left he still held his sword. He could not afford to break this one yet. Without a weapon he could never threaten a serious attack against those two. “Hmm. Still planning to fight. Alright. [Enhance Defense]!” As the warrior chanted the spell his shield took up a orange color for a short duration. “Come on boy. Attack.” Daz dashed forward again, trying to get to the side of his opponent. Immediately he was interrupted. “[Shield Bash ]!”
Seeing the huge wall of steel coming towards him at a high speed, Daz punched into it with all his force. As last time the warrior was pushed back. Since he had used all his power for the punch, Daz really had expected to sent his opponent flying at least. Apparently this passive magic was pretty strong. Well then, multiple attacks. Dashing forwards he showered the shield in continuous punches, sending the warrior off balance more and more with every punch.
“Allright, pretty strong, but this will not be enough! Playtime is over!” The man raised his shield high and rushed it down at insane speed. “[Shockwave]!” The energy emitted as the shield hit the stone sent Daz flying. Not a few meters either. Over twenty meters! Off balance and without any means of retaliation he struggled to come to a halt on his feet. Upon finally stopping he stood up immediately. “[Shield Bash]!” Another time the shield flew towards him. This time it hit.
Being knocked to the ground, with his head spinning, Daz finally realised how much he had underestimated them. Using magical skills to boost themselves, they were clearly out of his own league! The iron boot came flying and knocked him around another time. The sword had already escaped Daz’s grasp, and fighting with his fists was the only thing that remained. Using all his power to defend and deflect the shield bashes and kicks he came back to more solid position.
Blood running from his nose and several ribs hurting the fight stopped. “You are strong, but that's about it. You have been a fool for coming here with these abilities. You can hardly take me head on, how could you win here?” The fighter looked sad. “Time to finish this.” He grabbed his mace and Daz could not even see the strike. The only sensation he felt was the mace crashing into his shoulder knocking him over.
Not knowing where up and down was and his vision becoming blurry he got back on his feet, swaying like a tree in the wind. Another shield bash and strike with the mace followed. This time Daz did not even realize he had fallen to the ground. Spitting blood he slowly tried to get up. [Let me help.] There the voice was again. What was this? [He is trying to kill you. Let ME OUT!] A dark sensation pushed from the back of Daz’s mind, forward. It cost extreme willpower to hold it back and focus on getting up again.
“Still getting up? Impressive, kid.” The steel boots kicked him again. [Finally. FREE.] The dark sensation pushed through Daz’s mind. This time he wasn’t able to stop it. Instead, he was pushed back. He lost the feeling of his head, hands and legs. Then his entire body felt numb. He was caught in a black cage knocking at the glass to get outside. But the glass held.
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Ilyas observed the fight. The kid was clearly inexperienced, and Maduk was toying with him. A boring fight really, and a shame that they had to kill this child. The strength was extraordinary and with some training he could be at least a officer rank later on. But this was the general trial. Here one either rose to the school for future generals or die on the stones of the arena. It was military law.
The “fight” was coming to and end, and while it was impressive that the kid got up and up again, he had no chance of winning and his abilities would not warrant it to vouch for him. As Maduk raised his mace a last time to crush the kid something odd happened. The kid stood up. After being his four times with the mace! Maduk would not stop his final strike though. While the large warrior had a good heart, mercy was not something that remained after all those years of service.
The mace crashed downwards and… was stopped. The kid had raised his arm and caught the large weapon with his bare hands. A dark smoke played around the kid’s right eye and he started to smile manically. “AhahaHAHAHahahaHAAHAH!” Then he punched. Maduk was fast enough to guard with his shield but the force was completely different. The shield bent inwards roughly ten to twenty centimeters where the fist had hit the surface and the large man flew very far.
Thirty meters away he came to a halt and stood up. Ilya also readied his bow to assist his comrade. Something was off. He drew an arrow and aimed at the kid, but he did not stand where he had just defended against the mace. Only the weapon lied on the ground, as if totally forgotten. Maduk chanted again. “Iron Barrier!” A white light spun around him immediately, and no second too early. The kid stood right next to him, barely flinging his arm towards Maduk. It could hardly be called a punch, but the large man was sent flying a few meters again, barrier broken.
Ilya fired his arrow and chanted. “[Multishot]. [Explosive Arrows]!” The one arrow split right after leaving the bow and twelve projectiles dashed towards the kid. Huge explosions cracked up the floor and the general area where the kid stood. But he was too fast! The kid was already over Maduk, punching at his shield which already lied in ruin. A few more strikes and he was in serious danger! Immediately Ilya let out another volley of arrows this time sleeping arrows. Explosion would just cause more damage for his partner.
As the arrows flew, the kid dashed through them, dodging them all and within a second he stood before Ilya. A short strike and the bow was broken, a light kick and Ilya fell sideways. The fist dashing towards his face turned into a claw, grabbing his throat. And again the kid smiled and laughed maniacally.
The last thing Ilya saw before he blacked out was the black iris of the kids right eyeball.