Eric’s eyes snapped open to the sound of shouts, and within a second, he was out of his bed, lunging for the swords that hung beside his bed. Despite the speed of his reactions, he barely had time to close his hand on the hilt of his longer blade before the door to his room opened with a bang. Whirling in place, he saw the blurry shape of a red robe moving quickly towards him. Then he blinked, his vision focusing, and he saw the golden accents to the clothing. It was a follower of Attos, one of the Priests he’d met yesterday.

The man let out a quick flurry of words, and a shock of lightning erupted from his fingertips, arcing slightly as it cascaded towards Eric. He jumped to the side to avoid the attack, which singed the carpet of his bedroom. Paying this no mind, he dove forward, flicking the scabbard free of his sword. He lunged, taking the priest high in his chest. The system put up a tiny window of text in the corner of his vision, letting him know that he’d just landed a critical hit.

The man let out a cry of pain that was quickly cut off as Eric slammed him into the frame of his bedroom door. Eric kicked his head against the door once more for good measure, then filled his lungs and shouted as loud as he could, calling the rest of the house to wake up and get clear. Then, with no idea what was waiting for him, he bolted for the large staircase that led to the first floor.

Two more figures were there, at the base of the stairs, threatening his head chef and the apprentice James with wicked-looking swords. They were glancing up the stairs for the source of Eric’s shout, but with the darkness of the second story, he was relatively hidden. Taking the stairs would make extra noise, he realized, and reveal his presence. He might as well capitalize on the fact that they didn’t know where he was. He gripped the railing with his free hand and jumped over it.

The man he hit cushioned his short fall, but the force of his falling body drove the man hard onto the tiled floor. Eric heard a nasty crunch as his body was slammed down, and stabbed the man as hard as he could. His Sneak Attack had been effective, then, killing the man instantly. Quick as a flash, he snatched up the man’s shoulder and rolled off to the side, narrowly avoiding the strike that his comrade launched at him.

Two down, one in front of me, Eric thought. There was no way of knowing who else had broken into his estate. He parried another strike from his enemy, and cut back with the liberated sword, opening a small cut on the intruder’s face. He staggered back, his free hand coming up to staunch the flow of blood covering his vision. He swung once more, desperately, but Eric hacked at his defense, beating it down with several quick strikes. Then, just as the attacker stumbled over the body of his unconscious fellow, Eric’s sword flicked in and down, smacking his weapon from his grip. He let out a single cry of fear and bolted for the door.

Eric let him go, turning to see if James and the head chef were unarmed. They didn’t look like they had any injuries, but they were shaking visibly. Undoubtedly the sight of their new master covered in blood and weilding two swords was not comforting. They looked from his bloody night robe to the weapons in his hand, and shrunk back against the wall. Eric tried his best to give them a reassuring smile, but wasn’t sure he pulled it off with the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“Are there any others in here?” He asked quickly. When neither of them replied, he dropped one sword and shook James. “I need to know if that was the last of them, James. Did you see anyone else?”

James shook his head slightly. “No, sir. I only saw Matthew leave tonight, and nobody has come in since. They came from upstairs. We thought you were dead.”

“Not if I can help it,” Eric growled. In his mind, he was wondering why nobody had seen the attackers enter. “Go to my quarters and make sure Lady Ciayol leaves the building safely. I’m going to find that damned steward.”

Without waiting for a repy, he snatched up the dropped sword and ran deeper in the house, searching for more intruders. He quickly realized that the first floor was empty, and so went to the second. The same held true here, although he did catch a glimpse of the two chefs hurrying a bewildered and protesting Emma towards the exit. Eric caught up with them at the bottom of the stairs, and, ignoring Emma’s impatient questioning, bolted around them and out the door.

The small courtyard of his estate was deserted, save for one of the Maravino walking past. The man glanced up curiously as Eric burst through the front doors, and his eyes widened at the sight that the master of the house presented. Letting out a shout of shock, he ran towards Eric as fast as he could.

“Sir Breeden!” He called. “Are you injured? Have you been attacked?”

“I’m fine,” Eric said quietly but quickly. “Three intruders broke into my home. One just escaped, but two are inside. One of them might still be alive, I’m not sure. Have you seen my steward tonight?”

“Your… steward?” The Maravino replied, his face blank. “No, sir, I haven’t seen him. Please wait here, sir, while I call more to investigate.”

Eric ignored this command and continued running down his front steps, circling around his house. If the attackers hadn’t come through the front door, then they had to have broken in through one of the windows. As far as he knew he didn’t have a backdoor to his estate. But none of the windows looked open on the face of his estate, so he continued round, looking for an opening.

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A single door, sunken into the ground was at the back. It closely resembled a storm cellar door that he saw in a picture on Earth, where people could go and hide in case of a tornado. The door was wide open, and the ground around it, wet from night rain, was torn up. There, he thought. That was how they got in, through an entrance he didn’t know about. He kicked himself for not touring his own estate.

He peered through the open door to see the cellar of his estate. There were definitely some voices speaking quietly in there, he realized. At least three other people. There was no way he could get in there without being noticed, he knew. And they were bound to be ready for trouble, either from their allies inside, or from potential attackers coming from their rear. He clicked his tongue impatiently. He’d need help taking care of these three.

He glanced up just in time to see two more Maravino coming round the side of the house, obviously told where he was by the man in the front of the house. They spotted Eric at once, and drew their swords as they looked around for more insurgents. Quietly as he could, Eric ran over to them.

“They’re in the cellar,” he said in a low hiss. “There are no more in the building, I’ve already checked.”

“Right,” the man on the right said, seeming unfazed by the information. “Stay here, sir. We’ll flush them out.”

“To hell with that” Eric snarled. “I’m taking these bastards down. Follow me.”

Despite the fact that he had absolutely no authority over the Maravino, Eric moved off again, expecting them to do as he said. To his surprise, they gave no further comment on the situation and crossed to the cellar after him. One of them drew two large hammers off of his belt and sped up, reaching the cellar first. He didn’t even wait for more information before he jumped down the stairs. He let out a loud order for the intruders to drop their weapons, but didn’t wait for an answer before he started swinging.

Eric followed after him quickly, just in time to see one of the intruders slammed against a stone wall and drop his knife. Another of the men was charging the Maravino, desperate to free his ally. Eric intercepted his sword with one of his own, and cut back viciously, forcing the Attosian to jump back, out of harm’s way. The second Maravino warrior jumped over Eric, hitting the cellar floor with a roll. He had a staff on him, much like Anya’s, and beat back a third and fourth attacker with quick strikes from his weapons.

In a matter of seconds, the four intruders in the cellar were disabled, with Eric’s target dropping his sword and holding his hands up in surrender. The Maravino with the staff gave a piercing whistle, calling more support to the scene before heading in to search the rest of the building. Eric stayed where he was, keeping a close eye on the Attosians, in case they tried anything else.

“You really thought you could just break into my home and do away with me?” He asked the men, shaking his head. “Well, you clearly should have sent more. Or better yet, send better men next time. Idiots.”

He felt a strange sense of calm confidence now that the fighting was over, which surprised him. He wasn’t the most forceful of people. In his life on Earth, he’d often preferred to just get any unpleasant situation over with quickly. He didn’t try to be strong or intimidating, but something inside him had changed when he was summoned to Ahya. It wasn’t just the system that made him stronger, he realized. The training he’d gotten from Ehran and all that he’d experienced had made him mentally strong too.

The Maravino scoured his estate from top to bottom, finding nobody else who didn’t belong. His steward was missing, but the rest of his staff was unharmed. James and the Head Chef were the only ones awake to witness the event, and they had to explain what was happening to the rest as the Maravino ordered them to exit the house and stand in the freezing courtyard. Eric, for his part, was helping the Maravino bring the still alive Attosians around the house and put them into a carriage bound for the dungeons.

“Eric!” Emma shouted, the instant she saw him. “James says there were intruders! Are you okay?”

Eric waved to her tiredly to show that he was unharmed, and shoved the last intruder into the carriage, slamming the heavy door shut behind him. After shaking hands with the Maravino, he let them lead the prisoners away and returned to his nervous staff in front of the fountain. They all made shifted uneasily as he approached, weapons still drawn, muttering fearfully amongst themselves. Only Emma ran over to him, her eyes wide.

“How did you know they were here?” She asked. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

Eric shook his head slowly. The exhaustion was finally coming back to him now that the fighting was over. “I heard them shouting, and woke up. I’m not injured. Glad to see nobody else was hurt.”

“We’re all fine,” she agreed. “Thank the gods. But the Maravino scared us half-to-death, barging in here and shouting that we had to get out.”

“Sorry about that,” he said, finally dropping his weapons. They clanged against the paved courtyard. James, Chef, I’m sorry you had to be woken that way.”

The Head Chef shook his head but didn’t say anything. James, however, seemed to be bursting to say something and seized the chance once he was addressed. “That was terrifying! Thank you for saving us, sir. The way those men were talking, l thought we were going to die! Then you turned up, and saved our hides!”

Eric grinned in spite of himself at James’ nervous babbling. The young cook turned to the others, nodding to reinforce his point. “You should have seen him. Jumped from the top floor onto one, and disarmed the second. Faster than you could blink! Not a scratch on him!”

Emma let out a weak laugh at James’ antics, and even the Head Chef, scared as he was, had to smile. Eric put one hand on the young chef’s shoulder, forcing him to stop. “Let’s get inside where it’s warm, everyone. I think we all need a good breakfast, and a moment to rest.”