Jorish ran as Sayaka followed behind him. He kept his hand clutched on his spear, paying attention all around him for any signs of enemies. The barren landscape around them was bleak, lacking the vibrant sands of the sun-touched cities, but Jorish couldn’t waste his attention on such details, instead rushing with his highest speed.
“Tyran!” Jorish exclaimed as he saw the mass of muscles and scars that was his battalion’s leader.
Seeing Jorish and Sayaka, Tyran smiled. Moments later, They reached him. Jorish stopped, about to speak before noticing the presence of a few other people around them. Jorish’s eyes quickly scanned through all of them. Practitioners, all of them, He concluded.
“Since this is second officer’s Jorish first time meeting most of you, why not give him a short introduction?”
A short man stepped forward, bowing slightly, followed by frail looking youth behind him. Jorish took note of the many black spheres that hung from his uniform. The man started speaking. “I am second officer Jacob, forth squad leader. And this is my Capral Buglass. Happy to make your acquaintance.”
Jorish nodded, moments later another guy stepped forward, bow secured on his back. He looked at Jorish with disdain and disgust in his eyes as he seemed to force the words out of his mouth. “Third squad leader, Carrev.” Jorish looked at him with confusion, what is this guy’s problem?
Next stepped a woman wearing a black coat, Jorish’s eyes drifted to the weapon strapped on the side of the coat, it looked like a pistol but was much, much longer. The woman stopped as she spoke expressionlessly. “Nao, second squad leader.”
Finally, Jorish turned his eyes as they settled on the last person. A youth stood, with a sword wider than a sword should ever be on his back. His inky eyes cold and empty, holding contempt for the very world, noticing Jorish’s gaze, he turned towards him, letting out only a word. “Alek.”
Jorish stood flabbergasted, merely nodding before Alek turned back into staring into the void of the skies. Seeing as all introductions were over, Tyran spoke.
“Right, so everyone knows each others, let me begin.”
Everyone turned towards Tyran as he continued.
“The second battalion of Graus-toke is heading towards us.”
Jorish waited for Tyran to continue, before noticing everyone turning silent for a few seconds. Breaking the silence, Nao exclaimed loudly. “Are you serious?!”
Tyran nodded. “We have no choice but to hold them off until backup from the other battalions. We cannot let them get past us, or they will flank our city.”
Nao’s originally expressionless face wrinkled up with anger and worry, Jorish could also feel something in them, fear. He turned, whispering to Sayaka. “What’s up with them?”
Sayaka opened her mouth, about to answer before getting interrupted by Jacob. “Ah, Jorish was it? Let me answer you. The second battalion of Graus-toke is known to be the strongest battalion in the free cities. Not only in terms of their army, but also in terms of their leaders. The leader of the battalion has also recently broken through to become a Candidate.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Jorish’s mouth opened up slightly as Jacob’s words played back in his mind. A candidate as a battalion leader? He shuddered slightly as he heard of it, yet a slight smile planted itself in his face. He felt both excitement and fear, even if he knew he was nowhere near a match for a candidate.
Suddenly, earth shook as Tyran let out monstrous laughter before slapping Jorish on his back. “Gahahaha, You guys should have more of that attitude. I will hold off against that punk who thinks he is important now because he broke through.”
As Tyran laughed, a man ran towards him, whispering something in his ears. Tyran instantly turned serious as he shouted. “All officers, get to your squads and mobilize immediately. We cannot fight them at the camp, we will meet them two kilometers away from here to the north. You are dismissed.”
Everyone rushed in a panic, moving back to their squads. Jorish ran, Sanaka following him as they moved back into their squad’s quarters. Within a few minutes, everyone was already mobilized and ready without any panic. If nothing else, Jorish had to appreciate one thing about people who lived in the slums.
They were always prepared.
After 10 minutes of running, Jorish could see signs of enemies on the horizon, the squad slowed down and spread around, preparing to intercept the approaching enemies. Staring to his right, he could see Tyran walking forward on his own, while also spying another shadow approaching.
“Tyran! You old bug, you are still alive?!”
“Ah, Essil, you punk. You dare show your face before me?”
Finally getting close enough to be recognizable, he noted the middle aged man, wearing a sword on his belt, with his gray eyes and hair. He didn’t try hiding his presence as Jorish could immediately tell. A candidate.
Essil snickered as he took out his sword. “Ah, Tyran. A mere practitioner yet standing here fearlessly?”
Tyran pulled back his fist as he spat. “I whipped you as a child, Essil. And I am not afraid of doing the same now.”
A moment later, Jorish heard a loud explosion as Essil’s blade and Tyran’s fist met. Jorish could see as Essil jumped back, unharmed. He looked at a wide cut across Tyran’s arm. Yet, Tyran jumped forward towards Essil. Getting closer, Essil swung his blade at Tyran’s neck. Jorish’s eyes widened in shock as the blade was inexplicably pushed to the side, as wisps of spark and smoke appeared around Tyran’s fist, before he punched towards Essil.
Suddenly, Jorish’s focus was interrupted by a loud horn as he heard Nao shout.
“Charge!!”
Within a few seconds, the entire scene turned into pure chaos. Jorish led his squad, rushing in with his spear in hand. Seeing the enemies close enough, he threw back his cloak as he jumped in. He looked at the man in front of him, who stared at Jorish in terror for a moment before his spear dove in his heart, freezing that look into his face, for eternity.
As Jorish’s squad clashed with the enemy, he moved with some confusion. Stabbing and spearing through anyone he wouldn’t recognize. Shouts and cries erupting all around him, Jorish quickly scanned the area around him until he saw a group of men surround a youth. Jorish’s eyes widened as he recognized the youth he had been training earlier. He shook in anger as he noticed his missing arm. Jorish sprung into action, rushing to assist him.
Just before Jorish reached them, one of the men’s blades cut through the youth’s chest before throwing him to the side. Jorish eyes ignited with rage as he lunged, spearing the man through his neck before cutting it off. The other men stood in shock for a moment before Jorish took back his spear, swinging it in an arc, cutting the men down. He kneeled, looking at the youth, who was barely alive as he spoke. “Don’t worry, we will get you help…” Only to be interrupted as the youth’s lips tried to move.
“S…s…s”
Before they moved, without any sound, as the youth finally froze, dead. Jorish’s fists clenched as rage filled him. He knew what the youth wanted to say, the words that he didn’t hear, now stuck in his head.
Son of the Sun.