"No! Not like this!" Whurel exclaimed as Yue-liang swung a stick in the air.
The two of them stood in the middle of a picturesque clearing, carpeted with lush green grass adorned with scattered patches of colorful flowers. The warrior, instead of his armor, wore normal clothes – an old gray shirt, and simple pants – while the boy had managed to clean up his tattered rags, at least a little bit.
"Don't just swing like an idiot. Use your legs to put some power into it!" Whurel continued, his voice laced with irritation. "I'll show you…"
And he did. Step by step, he demonstrated the proper technique, emphasizing the forward movement, the shift in weight distribution, and the use of leg strength to add extra power to the swing. The boy watched intently, although it was uncertain if he fully grasped the lesson.
Yura observed the two of them from a distance. Seated on the ground with her legs crossed, she scratched the neck of the wolf lying by her side. The beast was breathing slowly with its eyes closed. Enjoying the warm rays of the sun.
Several dozen steps behind her, atop a mound of colossal boulders, a majestic tree soared toward the sky. Its trunk was as wide as a house, and its branches extended far and wide, reaching toward the clouds.
She paused for a moment, attempting to comprehend Whurel's instructions as well.
"Woof!" Milo barked at her insistently, demanding she continue caressing him. The animal’s eyes shut open, and he licked his snout.
She sighed, resuming her affectionate gestures towards the wolf.
„No, no, no, no, and no! Not like this. I just showed you how you are supposed to move. Give me that,” the warrior snatched the stick from the boy, and then demonstrated to him how to move once again, swinging the improvised weapon with impressive speed.
It plowed the air, producing a loud sound. The fact of how fast it moved, made it turn into a blur.
„See? That’s how you kill an asshole, instead of annoying him. You are not trying to discipline somebody. You are trying to kill them. Now, show me again!” Whurel said, slightly raising his voice before he returned the stick.
Gritting his teeth with determination, the boy grabbed the piece of wood and did his best to mimic the move.
„Like this?”
„Better, but far from good. Again!”
Watching them train, the girl thought about how fast the two of them, her and the boy, adapted to their new life with the old man Thyme, Milo, and the strange warrior. Sleeping in a cave, eating what nature provided, with an occasionally hunted rabbit, that on a good that the wolf shared with them. Enjoying nature, training, and at night thinking about the past lives they lost. She felt robbed of what she once had. It was not great and filled with hardships, but that was her life. A life with her mother who now was completely alone. Now she felt like she had nothing, and the only person she could blame was Whurel.
‘I know he didn’t have anything to do with the soldiers taking us away, but who else can I blame?’ she wondered. ‘Yue-Liang? He didn’t even know what that stone was. All he wanted was to help his mother,’ she thought, and her moves slowed, prompting the wolf to bark at her again. That brought her back to the surrounding reality.
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A band of twenty horsemen, all clad in matching black lamellar armor, rode steadily along the dusty road, their figures sharply contrasted against the backdrop of the sunlit landscape. They approached another group of similarly outfitted soldiers stationed in a camp that sprawled across the middle of the road, so close to the forest.
Tents, supply wagons, and a multitude of horses occupied a significant portion of the pathway, while vigilant guards maintained watch in all directions, effectively blocking any would-be intruders or travelers.
Nestled within the camp, amidst the hustle and bustle, stood a broken cart, its contents being carefully examined by a few individuals.
At the forefront of the group of riders was a man in his thirties. His long black hair was nicely tied into a bun, which made him appear slightly different from other soldiers in helmets. A dozen feet before reaching the guards, he dismounted his steed, allowing it to continue onward until it halted just within proximity of the vigilant sentinels. His companions took it as a signal to halt.
"Captain!" the guards on foot called out in unison.
"Out of my way," he curtly responded, brushing past them and advancing further.
He immediately made his way to a secluded stretch of the road, where a conspicuous patch of death lingered. The soil remained stained brown from the blood it had absorbed, accompanied by a dark residue of soot. Kneeling, he touched the substance with his fingers before bringing them to his nose for a closer inspection.
Meanwhile, the arrival of the newcomers stirred commotion within the camp. Amidst the flurry of activity, Captain Yasu emerged, making his way toward the kneeling soldier.
"Captain Shinrou Rokuro... I didn't expect them to send you," he remarked, pausing a few steps away.
Shinrou stood up and approached his fellow officer.
"It's an important matter. Have you already dispatched the scouts?" he inquired.
"I have. They headed toward Gu-shan. The tracks suggest the culprit is a lone individual, heavily armored. He took both children who were being transported to the capital," Yasu informed.
"One man? Any idea who he might be? Or who could possibly send him?" Shinrou asked, his eyebrows raising before he furrowed them in an attempt to conceal his surprise.
"A few days prior, an outsider appeared in the village. He was unarmed, but his immense size was remarkable—on par with the royal guards. It's hard to say if it was him, but it's certainly a lead we cannot overlook," Yasu pointed out. „I questioned the peasants, and nobody explicitly mentioned him asking any questions about the boy or the girl, but at that time the village was full of rumors about them getting taken to the fort, so he could get what he was looking for without putting any effort into it.”
"I will pursue them. You follow closely behind. We have wasted enough time. Let us move immediately," Shinrou declared.
The other captain simply nodded in acknowledgment before turning on his heel and bellowing at the top of his lungs, "Gather your belongings! Prepare for immediate departure!"
With that, he hastened back toward his tent.
Meanwhile, Shinrou Rokuro pivoted to face his awaiting troops, who stood poised on their horses already in four orderly rows.
"We are venturing into the forest," he announced, swiftly mounting his steed in one fluid motion. Urging the animal forward, he led his men into the nearby woods without delay.
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Somewhere, miles away, amidst the undulating expanse of fallows on hilly terrain, a peculiar figure strode with determination. Cloaked in a dark grey robe, with long sleeves and a deep hood, similar to a monk-like attire.
The character's gait was labored, marked with frequent stumbling forward, yet unwavering in direction. The person never glanced back, as though the path ahead was unquestioningly clear. The boisterous wind whipped at the flowing garment, its gusts blending with the piercing whistle of the air, drowning out the heavy breaths.
Despite the apparent exhaustion, this individual refused to halt for even a moment, propelling forward with unwavering resolve. The relentless pace was only justified by a mission of such paramount importance that the life of the one carrying it held no significance as long as they would succeed.
It was as if the weight of the world rested upon their weary shoulders.
Ahead, a row of trees marked the threshold of a sprawling forest that seemed to extend beyond the reaches of sight. The trees, with their expansive canopies, grew in close proximity, their branches often intertwining. Further within, fallen and decaying giants lay strewn amidst the undergrowth, succumbing to the encroachment of other diverse forms of vegetation. All these signs pointed to an untamed realm, one untouched by the hand of man.