A veteran who defected from the frontlines, Sikal's story was a common one. While those who still wish to live in the light end up as mercenaries, Sikal decided that the path of the righteous was not for him. Which was why he joined Murgclaw's band.

While as a bandit he is considered powerful by multiple standards, in terms of ranks as a soldier he never got past the label of simply being "Average" in terms of skill and below average in aura.

Sikal had all of the advantages he could ever need in this situation, the boy was restless and they barely fed him. Sikal had a lot more experience and was stronger than the other aura users in his group.

"I'm surprised that you can even stand." Sikal scoffed.

With a clang of blades Sikal could barely deflect a thrust from the small teen's spear.

"Come on now, you should already know your place." Reddish aura enveloped Sikal's machete as he dashed forward and struck.

Hektor spun with his aura-enhanced spear and the two combatants clashed. It was a clash of purple and red, the sound of metal clanging with one another rang in the ears of those that cared enough to watch.

They were both forced back by the exchange.

"Hehehe, you're good. But you're just a kid." He seemingly disappeared from sight.

Reappearing right beside Hektor.

[Mana Bolt]

A blue ball of energy sent right at his chest pushed the older fighter a couple of feet back. Hektor was familiar with the swordsman's way of fighting, as someone who almost followed the same path Hektor knew exactly where the first move of the [One-handed Makluzian Sword Art] would land in relation to its opponent.

"What…HOW?!" The lanky swordsman stood up coating his blade in the same reddish hue once more.

Even if they knew each other's techniques and strategies, with both of them using the most common weapon arts of the kingdom the feat that the boy displayed right in front of him was just something that Sikal couldn't believe.

"Even if you knew it was coming, there's no way you could have reacted." Sikal breathed out in disdain. It was not a well practiced move but more reactionary, as if the boy was simply too fast for the veteran soldier to fight.

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"He…. it must be a fluke. It has to be a fluke." Sikal's lower body began to ooze out a bloody red aura. "Then all I need to do, is to go faster."

Hektor tossed his shield forward and took on a stance, one meant for a thrust. Right as the shield reached Sikal's location, the man disappeared once more.

It was a battle between the Markluzian's One Handed Sword technique and the Basic Markluzian Spear Art. One that was commonly seen amongst soldiers below a certain rank. Something that is practiced and drilled onto each one of them so that they know how to work with the techniques of their comrades.

An exercise that Hektor practiced over and over. And while he was dubbed a defect in terms of size and mana value, Hektor was talented in the use of the weapon of his choosing. His exceptional speed would often be overlooked due to his seemingly harmless outward appearance.

His spear was faster than Sikal's blade, the spearhead pierced right through the man's neck.

He pulled the spear back before running out of the camp. There was no time to lose. "Best of Luck old man, but I'm headed out first!"

---

The Swordsman, Madivak was infamous during his prime. Having learned both the two-handed and the one-handed sword styles of their Markluzian Kingdom, he was a prospect that was adopted by one of the martial clans.

In his prime, he could take on a dozen captains in the same level as Murgclaw but now in his late 70s the punches that freed him and the young lad were enough to dent his normally large reserves of aura.

"Oi, Oi! Let Sikal handle the kid, I'll need all the help I can get for this one."

Murgclaw knew that this old man was nothing to scoff at, while he was unfamiliar with the name he did know enough about the man to know that he took down three of his men before surrendering. They only won due to the hostages that they took.

"But we have 10 soldiers here now, not to mention a former captain." Murgclaw began. "I don't care how strong you were in your prime, there's practically no way for you to win."

Murgclaw flipped his axe and clanged it to his round shield.

Tak. TAK. CLANG.

"Go!" The bandit leader shouted.

The rest of them ran towards the old swordsman, with differing hues of aura infused onto each of their weapons. Each confident that at least one of them will land. For most soldiers this would be the end of it.

In his prime, using a movement technique and dashing out of the way would have been an easy thing to do. But with an aching back and arthritis, he was forced to clash with his younger foes.

The term Aura and Ki goes hand in hand and are normally interchangeable. But when one refers to a weapon and use the term Ki, this holds a new meaning in the world of martial arts. Which is a simple way of explaining that his sword was simply far stronger than their own. Among the six that charged at him, two weapons broke and he slit the throats of three of them at once.

[Sword-Ki]

Even at the ripe old age of 78, Madivak was still a force to be reckoned with. With the innocents he saved now fighting for their own freedom, the old man had no choice but to respect their wishes and fight alongside them.

This was the last night that anyone would ever encounter the Murgclaw bandits. All thanks to the once infamous Madivak and an unnamed young spearman.

Souls: 6