Unsure of what to do, Arturo returned to his quarters. He didn’t want to risk making it difficult for the chiefs to find him when their warriors were ready. It felt like ages since his last fight.
Though his wounds had healed, Arturo brushed the spot where Kyrad had stabbed him. He needed to improve—not just a little, but significantly. Kyrad had shown him how weak he was. The defeat haunted his dreams frequently. If he had been stronger, he could have avenged his family in Talin Grad. Instead, he was here, trying to assemble a new company of soldiers to fight in the upcoming war.
Could the Forest Dwellers teach him something? Arturo hoped so. His training was good, but he needed something more, something he couldn't yet identify. Since his fight, he had been training himself harder than ever: early morning exercises, before every meal, and before bed. He had started strapping rocks to his sword, hoping it would help him move quicker.
“What do you hope to accomplish?” Jen asked, snapping Arturo out of his thoughts.
“Huh?” Arturo didn’t understand.
“With this group. What do you hope to accomplish when you gather all the soldiers you want?”
“Ah,” Arturo had thought about that more than he cared to admit. It had been a great distraction from his problems. “I want to lead an elite group of warriors to strike fear into the invaders. It’s their turn to experience fear, and by Tarmella’s grace, I will achieve that goal!”
“Why?” Jen pressed.
“It feels right,” Arturo said.
Tarmon laughed. “I think it’s a great idea.”
Jen ignored Tarmon and kept staring at Arturo. “If you wanted to be part of an elite group of warriors, why not join the Whispering Mists? They already meet your criteria.”
“No, they don’t,” Arturo said, realizing his sister was serious. “I got the idea from your clan, but I want control. I won’t let anyone else rule my life, not ever again.”
Jen appeared taken aback by the statement. “Why?”
Tarmon looked at his feet uncomfortably. Arturo hadn’t spoken to Jen about his time with the Crystal Syndicate. She didn’t know why he had left. “I had a falling out with the Crystal Syndicate. I thought they were good people, and I was wrong.”
“The Whispering M-”
“I don’t care!” Arturo interrupted. “I felt the same way about the Crystal Syndicate. There’s no way I’m going back to serving another master. I will be in control, and the warriors will follow my orders. Anyone who disobeys will face the consequences.”
Jen looked as if she wanted to say more but was interrupted when a Forest Dweller entered. Arturo turned and was surprised to see it was Natlonia. He had expected a servant or guard to come for him, not the chief herself.
“It is time,” Natlonia said.
“I’m ready,” Arturo replied.
“Then follow me,” Natlonia instructed.
Natlonia led the way, taking them back to ground level. Arturo noticed a gathering of people and saw a small arena surrounded by a fence—a public spectacle for his fight. He would need to hold back, or he might kill whoever he was fighting. A group of Forest Dwellers moved out of the way when they saw Natlonia.
They stopped at the gates, and Natlonia turned to Arturo. “You will fight the three in here. I’ve already told your opponents not to kill you, and I expect you not to kill them.”
Despite the situation, Arturo found himself smiling. “I won’t.”
“Excellent. If you are the fifty-man slayer, you should do well,” Natlonia said, motioning for Arturo to enter.
He walked through the gate and looked at his opponents. Two of them were holding swords, and one was holding a spear. None of them wore armor. That gave him an advantage. Unless these warriors were exceptional, they shouldn’t have the strength to pierce his armor, and Verian armor didn’t slow him down, always catching his opponents off guard.
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“Get ready!” Natlonia yelled.
Arturo drew his sword and rested the blade on his left shoulder. He had a plan. The first thing he would do was destroy the spear, which should force one of his opponents to surrender. As for the others, he would have to be careful not to shatter their swords and kill them. Don't underestimate them, he thought. He wasn’t facing ordinary people, and he had to remember that.
“Begin!”
The two swordsmen moved first, each flanking Arturo on both sides. The spearmen remained where he was, and Arturo was forced to react. He swung his blade to the left with enough force to cause a cloud of dust to spray toward the first swordsman. The second attacked. Arturo whirled his blade around, aiming to disarm his opponent.
It wasn’t going to be that easy. The swordsman ducked the attack and stabbed toward Arturo’s stomach. Not wanting to take any risks, Arturo dodged the strike and raised his left fist, about to strike when he saw a spear coming at him. He jumped back, hearing the whoosh of the staff missing him by mere inches.
Before he could counter, the swordsmen came through the dust cloud and began swinging furiously. Arturo was surprised at their speed and quickly dodged, then blocked various strikes as he tried to find a weakness. These weren’t ordinary warriors, and that realization made him smile. He hoped the Forest Dwellers wouldn’t take his smile as disrespect, for this was what he wanted.
He was one with his sword. The crowd didn’t exist as far as he was concerned. It was him and three warriors. Arturo remained on the defensive for some time, then he found his moment to strike.
The first one he pounced on was the spearmen. He only struck when the two swordsmen had him distracted. Arturo feinted left and smashed his right fist into the swordsman's face, sending him tumbling to the ground. Before the spearmen could pull back his attack, Arturo swung upwards and split the staff apart, with the tip of his blade cutting a thin line through the spearmen’s clothing.
“No way!” the second swordsman exclaimed as he tried to reposition his attack and found himself quickly outmatched. Arturo knocked the sword from his hands and kicked the Forest Dweller's feet, sending him to the ground. He rested his blade on the swordsman's chest and stopped.
There were oohs and aahs from the audience, and that was when he was truly aware of what was going on. There was genuine surprise from many of the Forest Dwellers, and Arturo turned to Natlonia, who had a smile on her face. To his shock, he could see she was happy he had beaten the three warriors.
“You’re an outlander?” the swordsman on the ground asked.
Arturo quickly removed his sword. “I am,” he said.
“You’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen,” the one with the spear said.
“That’s because you haven’t seen enough warriors,” Natlonia said as she walked towards them. “You three fought well and have proven your skills.”
“I will spread the word. Any Forest Dweller who wants to join you may do so, and you have my permission to ask around until you are satisfied,” Natlonia said.
“Then I would like to be the first to swear,” one of the swordsmen said, straightening. “I, Tasadario from Clan Wafralion, swear my loyalty to you, Arturo Pentori.”
“You aren’t the only one. I, Kirkrand of Clan Orian, swear my loyalty to you, Arturo Pentori.”
“And I, Eunindo of Clan Forest, swear my loyalty to you, Arturo Pentori.”
That was not what he had expected, and judging by Natlonia’s reaction, neither had she. Arturo hooked the sword on his back and looked at his first three members. They were skilled, and he bet they would improve with training. “I welcome each of you. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that we will be going to war.”
“That is why we wish to join. Why else would you gather an army?” Kirkrand said.
“Your skills inspire my people,” Natlonia said. “When you are done recruiting, would you see me before leaving? I want to give our warriors who join you a proper farewell.”
“Of course,” Arturo said.
Arturo didn’t have to do much recruiting. Over the next few days, numerous Forest Dwellers came to him, asking to join. He tested every single one of them. He didn’t want just anyone; he needed skilled fighters, though he knew he would need to make exceptions. His army would be around fifty warriors from each of the nations, something he had decided from the beginning.
The time was soon coming to leave. Arturo was eating a bite of fish with Tarmon. He saw no purpose in staying here any longer. The Forest Dwellers he wanted were ready to go when he was. Natlonia gave them her blessing and some private ritual that the Forest Dwellers refused to speak of.
This would be their final meal, and then they were off. More than fifty Forest Dwellers volunteered, and he took the top fifty. Arturo hoped he wouldn’t regret not taking more. Yet, he needed to move quickly, and the larger his army was, the longer it would take to travel.
“Have you decided where we are going next?” Tarmon asked before taking another bite of his fish.
“Either Skahad or Malvarian. Leaning towards Skahad the more I think about it,” Arturo said. He thought the Forest Dwellers would be hard to get warriors, but he had a feeling the other nations would be more difficult, especially when he explained his plans.
“I think Skahad is an excellent idea,” Tarmon said. “I love the people there.”
“Didn’t know you’ve been there,” Arturo said.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
That’s true. Arturo didn’t ask Tarmon much about his past, and he never offered anything about himself. He was so focused on improving as a fighter that he hadn’t thought to ask Tarmon where he was from. All he knew about the man was that he was a former student at Mortham Tower.
Jen walked up to them, her red hair flowing freely, and she looked happy about something. “Got some good news?” Tarmon asked.
“Nah, I just feel good today,” Jen said.
“You ready to go then?” Arturo asked, standing up from where he had been sitting.
“Let’s go.”
Arturo led the way to their horses, and they left the Forest Dwellers behind. Recruitment had gone well. Now, he hoped to convince Skahad to give him troops. Maybe things would go smoothly. It was all he could hope for.