Twigs heartbeat was going at least twice the normal speed. First he had witnessed Marcella displaying immense power and flawless execution of her fighting style. Now, the more silent Mira was asking to perform five times the difficulty as well. While Daz had been a little disappointing, Twig knew he was able to perform much better without his weights and he therefore deemed his performance worthy.

The reason why his heartbeat had increased so much was simple. Greed. Anticipation. He could not believe to have brought such strong fighters under his command. If they remained loyal to him, he would be much safer in the near future. Something that he desperately needed. But how would be bind them to himself further? How could he make them loyal? He needed to find out.

But first it was Mira’s turn. A hundred goblins lined up, much like ten and twenty had lined up before to fight his other two disciples. They were eager to fight this time. A very natural instinct for goblins. They craved fighting the weak, stealing and taking advantage of things that could not possibly hurt them. And even though they had witnessed the other humans fighting, they would not assume this one was similar. Their nature made them blind to logic.

Twig and his hobgoblins did not even have to motivate them further. Twig just released them from the mental shackles that kept them waiting and they immediately ran forward. Screaming, grinning and laughing they approached Mira like a wall of flesh. Twig was impressed that the girl remained this calm. She did not even flinch. Slowly she raised her hands and whispered something too quietly for Twig to overhear. But he felt what happened afterwards quite clearly.

Mira had stretched her hands outwards and kept them open and flat. On each palm of her hands a small black orb formed. They were pulsating like heartbeats. Quicker and quicker the more she chanted her spell and just when the first goblins were about to reach she pulled the orbs together. A brief flash of light blinded everyone to what was happening as the orbs touched. Just a second later Twig saw.

Each goblin had been bound by various vines or roots covered with thorns. All one hundred off them, tied up neatly right in front of Mira. Black daisies bloomed on them and made for a beautiful sight. The thorns penetrated the flesh of the goblins as they struggled and seemed to inject some sort of sleeping poison into them. A very quiet and stunning scenery unfolded in front of Twigs eyes. Then Mira chanted again, summoning spears of dark thorns, longer than a troll was high, all across her self made thornfield.

Two or three hundred lined up in various positions above or next to the sleeping goblins. When they struck, Twig flinched. A few splashes of blood dropped onto the black daisies as a hundred lives were eradicated in an instant. It was fascinating to look at, but the image remained for just another two or three seconds. Then the plants and thorns vanished, like a illusion returning back to air. Only a faint smell of daisies remained....

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Mira took heavy breaths. She had used all the mana she could muster to finish the spell chain and the physical strain alone was tiring her out immensely. Even if she had a manastone she could hardly pull this off again. But she did not want to show weakness. It was supposed to impress Daz. Mira wanted for once to be stronger than Marcella. More impressive than her. Now she just needed to turn around and smile like she had done.

Mira turned around and her eyes started to blur. A moment later she only saw black and fell. She was still conscious for a moment, hearing Marcella cry out her name before that vanished as well. It seemed like just a moment later when she woke again. She was lying on the nearly flat roof of the pavillion. Twig was sitting next to her. He was even more scary when he was next to her while she woke up.

It was embarrassing to lose consciousness there and most likely Daz would think she was weak now. A tear crawled out of her eyes. Why could she not be superior to Marcy just one time? “Here. Drink this. And don’t cry. It is unbecoming for such a strong person as you.” Twig handed her a cup filled with red liquid. Understanding she greedily downed the content. As energy filled her body again, she sat up wiping off her tears.

“Thank you.” Twig just nodded. Maybe he was not so bad after all? “I understand you wanted to impress here. I doubt very much because of me though.” Mira just stared at him. He was quite observant. She had not expected that. With her remaining silent the summoner continued. “Well, either way. I was impressed. I had not taken you to be that capable to be honest. May I ask you a question?” Mira just nodded. She had not talked much with Twig before and all previous talks had been much different. This was oddly intimate. Like she was talking to a close friend.

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“What is your goal in life? Do you desire something? Why have you joined the military?” Twig tilted his head, the four arms crossed in front of his chest. Mira was taken by surprise. She stared out into the garden, thinking about it. Daz was already fighting goblins again. Apparently fifteen this time. But he did much better than before. Mira had to smile for some reason. “I was always alone. All my life. I grew up the youngest child in my family, heiress to nothing and therefore not regarded as anything else than a trading token. Either I would have been married to another family for political gain, or… Well, I never found out what that second option would entail.”

Twig nodded again. “You had magical talent, and therefore were sent to military training. That is why you are here and not married somewhere.” Mira swallowed. How was he able to see through her so well? It unnerved her quite a bit. “Yes.” She paused for a moment before she continued. “Are you asking all this because you want to know what you can offer me so I fight for you?” Twig shrugged. “I know you will fight for the kingdom, so you are already fighting for me. Indirectly at least. I am asking to understand and to see what it would take to make you a true ally.”

Mira could not help but feel lost. She did not know what she wanted. She never had. “I don’t know. I… I can’t tell you.” Twig smiled. These teeth. That was something Mira would not get used to easily. “You will find it. For sure. When you know what it is, tell me. I will do anything I can to help you. Until then… Why not make us your goal? We could be a good team you know?” Saying that the creature left her alone on the rooftop, jumping down to join Daz. He had won against those fifteen goblins. Although... he was hurt again.

As Mira looked at them arguing about the fight she had to smile for some reason. Maybe that would not be such a bad thing with them?

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Jorak was counting again. And as per usual he was very good at it. Sixtyfour silver and eight choppers. The information had not paid as well as he had hoped, but this would allow him to buy quite a suitable armor for himself. He also counted something else. Or better said: he counted ON something else. Namely that his information could be sold again.

It had been very lucky to overhear such important information just when he was delivering his own. The royal prince and second in line to the throne had left the capital. And he had traveled to the swamplands to the north, of all places. Which was Joraks lucky day. Normally it would have been impossible to follow through a teleportation portal that was used by the royal household on diplomatic or military occasions, but his own cousin worked as a guard in the palace! For just twenty silver they had agreed to let him go through, disguised as a messenger.

Jorak counted on this whole adventure paying off. If the prince was just a little grateful that he was informed “before” anyone else (even though this was clearly not true at all) Jorak would surely be rewarded in gold, maybe even a military position. At least that was the best case scenario. If it failed he could always go back to counting deliveries and calculating trade offers. He was good at that.

Jorak got up from the bar he had taken a drink in walked outside, his earnings hidden savely under his clothes. He had made sure nobody noticed anything and the bar was not too crowded anyway. Walking a few shortcuts he soon arrived at the tailor. Here he would buy his new gear. Thiendal & Pyrk was the most famous tailor in the whole kingdom. Mainly because they sold the best crafted gear alongside bows, arrows as well as throwing knifes, a collection of trap material as well as other tools of death. It was a scout heaven.

Whether one was a rogue assassin or a marksman hunter, these gentlemen sold the best gear one could find. Naturally Jorak would only be able to buy a low grade leather armor from them, he already had eyed it before he started his spying missions. Bloodhare leather, reinforced with thicker direwolf fur it made for a very resilient armor. The cost however was quite something. Forty five silver. The raw material would hardly be worth half of it. But that was the cost of having the best crafters form it.

Aside from that he had barely twenty silver left. And he had already paid his cousin earlier. All his money would be gone again. For the bow he would buy the cheapest. With ten silver a common oakwood bow was hardly anything special, but at least buying it here would guarantee him quality. When he stepped into the establishment the salesman wanted to throw him out first, but immediately reconsidered once he saw his heavy and filled pouch.

Barely twenty minutes later Jorak walked out wearing his new armor, boots and a bow. The quiver filled with arrows had been a courtesy for him due to buying something over the worth of fifty silver. He still felt sad, only having a silver and eight coppers to his name now. A few hours later he was smuggled into the royal palace by his cousin and a friend of his and soon after found himself on a teleportation plate at the main gate of the royal palace. Usually it was used to call in troops for emergency defense, but his cousin had refunctioned it for the occasion.

“Thank you, Damir. I owe you.” Jorak grinned apologetically. “20%.” Damir stared at him with sharp eyes. “20% of whatever you make off of this. Then we are fine.” Jorak sighted. “Fine. But only because it’s you, cousin.” In truth they were not all that close and this whole thing was more born of convenience rather than any family bond. But Jorak was fine with it, as long as it helped him out here. And it was never bad to have a royal guard on good terms.

“See you late--” The rest was not heard anymore as the spy got turned on the spot and spun around into nowhere.

A second later he hit the stone floor sharply. He stood up with blurry vision and a sore throat. What in the bloody hell was that? Why would anyone want to travel that way? Rubbing his forehead he looked around. He was greeted by a dark abomination of a creature. Four hands, insect like wings and chitin scales everywhere. Paired with the human like face it was fear inducing. Daz turned to run away from this thing when he spotted another thing, much much worse.

A huge mountain of corpses lied in this garden. Goblins. Cut, decapitated, disfigured and limbs missing or broken in more than one way. Others had their chest cavities and heads bashed in and some were burned. Next to them stood three humans, their clothes covered in blood. Turning further he spotted skeletons, trolls and more living goblins.

When he saw the pond filled with bloody red liquid it was finally too much. Jorak lost consciousness looking at the horrors of this garden...