Chapter 007:

A large crash rang out and shattered glass flew everywhere before landing on the floor. An oversized teen with two others under each of his arms leaped through and landed safely.

“Remind me again, why didn’t we use the door?” Alexander asked as he held on to his hood, making sure it didn’t fall off.

“Much too crowded,” Slim replied in a slight slur. After looking over, Alexander was surprised to find him downing another drink.

“Why didn’t you get me one to-” His statement was cut short by the rapid increase of Big Ed’s momentum.

Once again surprised by the speed the big lug could conjure, Alexander turned to look behind the trio. He now understood why Ed sped up.

In the distance, he could see a group of baldies chasing after them on horses.

“Persistent buggers aren’t they?” Slim Grim said with a sneer.

“Indeed. Hey, why are they all bald?”

“Probably a dress code or something. Ed, take a left up ahead,”

The overgrown youth nodded in response.

Growing dizzy from being carried around, Alexander couldn’t help but ask, “Why don’t we just beat them down a bit,”

Ed did not speak but he did give a firm shake of his head, indicating his disapproval.

Alexander sighed before noting the fact that despite Ed’s speed, the baldies were still catching up. Come to think of it, it was obvious, how would a regular youth out-pace a horse?

“Hey slim, pass me your glass,” Alexander said suddenly.

“Why? it’s empty,” Slim said as he held his hand still; he was just about to throw the glass mug away.

“Just give it to me,” Alexander repeated. After receiving it, he looked back for a second as if considering something.

Just as Big Ed was about to ask, Alexander erupted into action and used the entirety of his remaining strength to throw the mug.

The two other youths looked back in shock and watched as the mug flew valiantly into the air for a few feet before dipping well before reaching its supposed targets.

Disappointed, Big Ed and Slim Grim turned their attention back to running. Alexander however smiled innocently.

The disappointing mug slammed into a support beam belonging to a sleeping vendor’s rickety shack.

The napping vendor awoke to the sound of creaking as his stand began tilting sideways. Unfortunately, sleep had dulled his reflexes and he was incapable of preventing the shack’s fall.

A large ruckus ensued as his stand, along with all of the goods on it spilled onto the ground.

The leading baldie saw this and tried to stop, but it was too late.

An even greater ruckus brought Jim and Ed’s attention back to their behind. And after witnessing the mess of baldies falling alongside their horses, the two turned toward Alexander with shocked expressions. However, the pair only felt chills shoot up their spines when they came upon his innocent, naive smile.

“Come to think of it, I haven't told you two my name yet. I’m Timothy, call me Tim or whatever,”

………………………………………………..

The group of knights led by Dirk made their way back to their division's base in relative silence, save for the stamping hooves of their steeds.

Sam, second in command and Dirk's right-hand man, found the mood suffocating and thus couldn't help but ask "Why'd we let the brat go Cap'n?"

"Sam, how many times must I remind you to address me as leader, not captain,"

"Sorry, force o' habit,"

"Nevermind, take a look," Dirk said as he pulled something out from within his robe.

Sam recognized the steel plaque, it was Dirk's knight emblem and it was currently flashing with a mysterious light.

"Oh, so big bro is calling," Sam said as if he was enlightened.

"Yes, the captain is calling,"

Sam nodded his head in understanding.

Silence descended for a bit before another of Dirk’s knights asked “So what do you think the captain wants, leader?”

Dirk shrugged “Probably bandits,”

At that, the group descended into an uncomfortable silence.

“Who i-” Sam began before being interrupted by Dirk.

“Doesn’t matter.” His tone was harsher, demanding a reply.

“““Yes, leader!”””

………………………………………………..

The moon, after having reached its apex, began its descent. And with its departure, the first rays of dawn shone through sleeping children’s windows, tickling them awake.

Alexander groaned into wakefulness with all the bitterness of a middle-aged widower. His head hurt madly and his throat felt dry, but as the various recollections of his previous night came back to him, he let loose a small, but satisfied smile.

‘It was fun,' he thought mildly as he stood on his feet. Leaving his untidied bed to the maids, he made his way to the window and opened it, allowing a fresh breeze in.

Content with his actions, he arrived at the center of his spacious room and began his routine. He started slow, stretching meticulously and breathing deeply. Once limber enough, he took a final breath and held it in.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

The world seemed to grow still save for the chirping of birds outside his window.

After some time, he suddenly opened his eyes and expelled his breath. Immediately after, his body burst into action and he shifted his legs, lightly bouncing. His foot slid smoothly across the floor and he dropped into a standard striking form with one leg at the front, slightly bent and another behind him offering him support. His body twisted, burrowing strength from the earth, and his muscles flexed before he punched out heavily.

He paused for a moment, considering his form and making note of all the faults within it. He punched out again, and again, and again.

Finally, he stopped and took a deep breath.

After taking a minute to collect himself, he opened his eyes and started moving again. This time, instead of forcefully punching out, his body began moving fluidly and calmly. Were Big Ed here, he would have noticed that Alexander was repeating the same movements he had made during his fight with Dirk. Only now it was smoother, more streamlined. He cut any unnecessary exertions and calmly rectified his mistakes.

After defeating Dirk once more, he took a brief break before repeating his striking routine.

This continued for another half an hour before a soft knock interrupted his routine.

Loosening his stance, Alexander replied. “Come in!”

“Young master Timothy, the sun has already risen, it is improper for you to still be in bed please recall your fathe-” Head butler Carson came to a sudden stop and his eyes widened slightly in surprise while his signature lock of silver hair bounced in disbelief. Before him, Timothy was standing perfectly still with impressive posture. His back was ramrod straight and his brow was slick with light sweat; this coupled with the lazy rays of sunlight peeking through his room's window and bouncing off his sweaty body gave the young youth a healthy glow.

“Baek men race the sun, and we often win,” Alexander reiterated Lobo’s words after it came to him among Tim’s hazy memories. He moved toward the tray the old man held and downed the glass of water with relish; parched throat now moisturized.

“T-the food is ready downstairs,” Butler Carson said after regaining some of his composure.

“Have it sent to my father’s office. Did you prepare the paperwork I asked for yesterday?”

“Yes!”

………………………………………………..

It was now noon and Alexander’s immature frame sat behind his father’s desk with his head buried between the pages of a decidedly thick book.

Large numbers and complicated formulas reflected off his father’s glasses which sat snugly on his charming face.

“As expected!” He suddenly said before closing the heavy book. “I understand nothing,”

Looking back, it was indeed a hopeless endeavor as he never once managed the books of his previous team; It was always left up to the alliance’s accountants.

With a sigh, he stood from the desk and removed his glasses; heroically standing by the office window, he studied the people scurrying about beneath the hot midday sun.

‘Woah,’ He thought to himself as he watched life through his window ‘I am so incredibly bored,’ His hand clasped the window and a brief push opened it.

“Might as well get a workout in,” He muttered as he lifted a leg onto the ledge.

But before he could continue, he heard the door opening and turned to find a random butler entering the room.

“Master Timothy, I thought you would like some snacks,” He said casually before coming to a stop with his eyes widening in surprise.

Before him, his master Timothy was straddling the ledge of his window.

“You should learn to knock more,” Alexander said casually.

“Yes master, sorry for the disturbance” The butler replied solemnly as he moved to leave.

“Wait!”

“Yes, master?”

“Leave the snacks,”

“Understood,”

………………………………………………..

The only thing Alexander could think of as he walked through the bustling streets of Iron-wall was how big and prosperous the kingdom was; despite walking for hours at a brisk pace, he had barely covered any of it.

That being said, he had to admit that every aspect of his walk was pleasant: The food was tasty and warm, the roads were well-paved and orderly, shops were scattered here and there seemingly half-heartedly but every single one of them was bustling with people. All in all, the citizens seemed happy.

Unfortunately, this pleasant fact gave him an eerie sense of incongruity; worse yet was what accompanied it, a deep unending guilt.

Did these happy people know what was to come? What hell was about to descend upon them?

He sat on a nearby fountain, polishing off the last of his snacks.

“I am the harbinger of death,” He said as he brushed his hair over one of his eyes. Studying his new look off the water’s reflection, a moment of silence passed before he could no longer hold it in.

“Hahaahaha” He laughed happily to himself.

The people around him, upon seeing the delusional man laugh to himself, wisely sped up their pace and avoided eye contact.

In reality, Alexander knew that the upcoming war was not his fault. His arrival was a mere symptom of what was to come, not its cause.

“Forget it,” He muttered, now alone beside the fountain.

“What should I do now?” But before he could answer his own rhetorical question, a sudden scream grabbed his attention.

“How cliche,” He sighed before bringing his hood down to cover his face.

In a dark alleyway nearby, two shadowy figures could be seen violently struggling against each other. But the fight did not last long as the smaller figure let loose a blood-curdling scream after being subdued by the larger figure.

Alexander watched all this happen from a relatively hidden corner of the alley; at first, his expression was one of disinterest, but after a few moments, his brow furrowed slightly.

Something was off. It was clearly a man roughing a woman up, but the flow was too weird. Too stilted.

However, before he could figure it out, a righteous voice commanded: “Stop, fiend! unhand her!”

Shortly after, a burly yet heroic figure appeared at the entrance of the alley. With the sun behind his tall frame, the man looked imposing as hell.

Alexander chose not to move and stood to the side, watching with interest.

The scene played out as expected with the villain throwing a wild haymaker which was impressively side-stepped by the hero who then tossed the man to the side before placing the girl behind him. “Don’t worry beauty, I got this,”

As for the man tossed to the side, Alexander was surprised to see that he was much younger than he seemed. He looked to be 15 or 16, surely not older.

The hero, however, did not seem to notice this as he seemed too caught up in the action. “Vile thing, if you hurry and apologise to this fair lady, I might consider letting you g-”

Fortunately, before the pitiful hero could continue, the sound of shattering glass interrupted him as he fell over face first. Following the fall of his impressive frame, a smaller one appeared behind him holding up an empty, and now broken, heavy glass bottle.

“Grab the sack hanging off his waist,” She said in a hurry.

The originally tossed-aside young man nodded obediently and was now reinvigorated as he combed through the hero’s possession in search of loot.

The girl however was more weary as she headed toward the entrance of the alley to act as a lookout.

‘Interesting…’ Alexander couldn’t help but smile sweetly.

………………………………………………..

Kiara’s point of view:

Kiara watched over the alley’s entrance with vigilance, waiting for any sign of trouble. Despite having done this multiple times by now, her nerves were still taut. Listening to the rustling sounds of her older brother looting an unconscious man, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of deep shame.

‘How did we get to this point?’ She asked herself in despair.

Suddenly, a sound startled her so bad she wanted to scream.

But upon further listening, she only grew confused.

‘Someone’s clapping?’ She asked herself incredulously.

From the shadows, a hooded figure appeared mysteriously and Kiara’s heart clenched as she studied the man’s attire, it was of extremely high quality. ‘He’s a noble,’ She thought to herself before decisively pulling out her pocket knife. She had heard many stories of lecherous nobles who took pleasure in capturing helpless street urchins before torturing them mercilessly.

“Raf!” She yelled, addressing her older brother. “Get behind me,”

Rafiel wanted to argue but knew that now was not the time and thus he did as he was told.

'What now?' She asked herself, desperately trying to think of what to do.