“Commander!” He rose his head. He couldn’t see very far, as night had descended on them quicker than anticipated. Soon enough he saw man and horse darting a crossed the ground.

After the man had come to a stop, the sweat and exhaustion took his voice. The horse was clearly run ragged as it frothed at the mouth, the rider almost doing the same.

He withdrew his water pouch, handing it over. He couldn’t have the informant die before he gave the information. After a few long drinks, the commander asked.

“Solider report?”

“Yes, sir. The scouting party has been attacked again” Traces of battle still hung on the man clothes. He must have barely gotten away in time.

“Did you get a good look at the attackers?”

“No, sir. All that I could see was a figure jump out of nowhere. Before I realized it three men fell. The last allowed me to escape.”

“Must be bandits,” The commander mostly spoke to himself, but a strange feeling irked him. The night’s blackness turned the forest around into a treacherous place. With all the trees near death, pale images that looked like hands searching for a savior. It wouldn't have been strange for bandits to be here, but the attacks were too frequent.

Had I led them into a nest of bandits? He shrugged off the thought. If they were bandits, attacking a group of three thousand would've been far too foolish.

Even bandits would know there wasn't much for them to steal. A few bandits would steer clear of such a large force. He needed to check this out.

“Take me to the area!” he ushered a dozen men to follow him. He spurred his horse forward. The men trailed close behind. They traveled quickly, but their pace was decided mostly by the trees.

The trees were close together, and long unattended branches hung low and could take a rider if they were not careful.

The soldier who had come to them, lead the way, but his fear of the what had happened made him and the horse slow their progress even further.

By the time made it, the moon hung high in the sky, but even in the shaded moonlight, something was very wrong.

With a quick motion, he pulled free a lantern that hung at his horse's side. He lit the oil, and light poured forth. Any signs of battle were gone. The bodies laid still in the ground but looked like they died quickly and without resistance.

He kicked the ground. The debris landed on the single piece of evidence that proved it was the same bandits. Patches of green.

After the attacks, there were reports of green wildlife being left behind. The commander crouched and ran his hand thru the dirt. It was fresh and more lively than all the soil they had come over since crossing from Dergas. The evidence was mostly just grass or bark that looked more brown than pale white.

He had his men gather the bodies. All were killed with a single stroke from a sword. The attacks were placed in the weak point of their armor. No poison ether. They all bleed out before help could arrive.

This was the fifth such attack. So far only 25 were down. He looked at all the dead’s face. Half expecting them to jump to life, with all the creepiness going in the air.

He knew none of them. Hell, he didn't know anyone in his army. His supposed platoon was a batch of rejects. Most of the whole army coming later. But these cuts….

Even after 25 years of services, this kind of skill was rare. Only thanks to his experienced eyes, could he tell how skilled the cuts were. He looked around. Pieces of branches covered the ground. He looked up.

A sea of branches covered the sky. The attacker hid there and waited for the platoon to pass. He jumped them before they could do anything. He half assumed the man that reached him was let go on purpose. As a warning? Or something more?

He moved away, back toward his horse. Then his sixth sense kicked in. After training and fighting as long as he could remember, the bloodlust was clear as day. He threw himself back.

SLASH!

A flash inches from his face. A black figure appeared. The new arrival wasted no time.

Two men fell to rapid slices. The rest, still spooked, pulled their swords but did nothing with them. The stranger rushed them. The soldiers tried retaliation, but they were slow.

A thrust pierced one's throat and a boot caught the other in the face. The stranger kept himself moving. With moonlight alone, no archer could get a good shot. He had left the magic users back with the rest.

The event to follow were quick. A soldier drew a flare but was killed so the fired burst hit a nearby tree. The flash blinded all those left alive. The commander closes his eyes.

Echolocation.

Without a word he rushed forward, Delivering rapid attacks at the stranger. Thanks to his contract this situation worked best for him. The stranger, however, parried every single one with ease. An unexpected break in the ground let the commander sword pierce the stranger’s cloak.

The assailant fell back and tumbled away. With one eye open, he dodged the blade that lurched for his face. His back hit the ground launching the air from his lungs. He expected a finishing blow, but it never found him. One last man's shriek filled the air and with that silence.

The commander got up slowly. After being sure he was alone, he walked over to his spooked horse. It had not run far after the flash unlike the rest of the men horses. One man lay dead next to his. A broken neck from a fall.

In total, 5 dead including the man who brought him here. 3 missing. The other four gathered themselves near him.

The commander and the men left in silence. He had no prayer for the dead. The men among him had less so. After he returned to his randomly put together army, he issues the following order.

“Men! Scouting group will now be made of twenty men, our pace toward the capital will increase, and anyone caught sleeping longer than necessary will taste steel.”

Satisfied he rode on ahead. We aren’t sleeping tonight. One more day and we will reach the capital. The commander wasn't too happy about fetching slaves, but it was better than it all out war of nations.

The possibility for such an event was closer than he wanted. Tensions were high and the very fact that his army was ragtag was a bad sign. Havan needs to fall. It would at least distract the nations for some time about fighting over the lands.

“Gods, this forest is creepy,” He whispered and then moved forward with the rest of his troops.

The sun was an odd sight. Even more so was the destroyed bare land before them. They had finally reached the end of the forest. Only to find a bare strip of land that went all the way to the cliffside of the kingdom.

We will have to turn wide to reach one of the gates.

It wasn't the commander first choice of a location as no clear advantage could be had should they be attacked, but he figured they were safe now that they were in broad daylight and not surrounded by the blasted trees.

The commander was half expecting the night to never end like all the reports said. He didn't care for the reason, it was all the better for morale after last night's attack. Even his own confidence took a hit.

This mission would leave him with a bad aftertaste. Hopes that the 8th would at least feed them something were high. The assailant had gotten to their food a day before.

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The commander had hoped to reach a day earlier, but the delays were for good reason. He lost nearly fifty me in the course of a day. He formed ranks quickly as the city was in sight.

He was in the middle with the other troop forms around him. Spears in front and the magic user behind him. This was a bold strategy. He hoped all the races involved would get along, but disputes were a dime a dozen.

He worried even more for the advanced party he sent on ahead.

With no clear right or wrong, all of them were left undecided. That was dangerous for any number of reasons.

“March” His called filled the afternoon air, but none moved. He yelled a few more time before a soldier came up behind him.

“There is a man blocking our path. He says he will not let us pass.” The soldiers around laughed. As they should, no one man could stop them. Especially in another king’s turf. The 8th surely let this happen so they would have a reason to draw blood. One man was not much of a loss compared to the whole city.

“Tell him we come in peace” a soldier called while drawing his blade, and a menacing smile on his face. The commander sent off the messenger with a grim expression.

Something feels off.

The advanced squad, that had found the man, was eager to draw blood. Much to all of the soldier’s anger they're were surrounded by different species. Dwarfs, beasts men, and many other subspecies filled the group.

None were scared of the man. They were a hundred strong alone, with a force of three thousand at their backs. There may have been a few hundred meters separating them, but they needn't fear him.

All he had was one sword. Which was placed securely in the ground with both hands around the hilt. It would have looked imposing had he not been alone.

“I ask once more. Please turn around now and you all get to live” The man spoke the warning once more.

“Buzz off” and got the same response. The men wanted blood. They wanted a purpose for joining this embarrassment of an army. Three thousand vs one was not what they had hoped for, but better than nothing.

They glared daggers. They all licked their lips and looked to the prey before them. A messenger soon came and broke the tension. “Give him the usual greeting.” They all got the message. Sounds of steel filled the air.

“Is this your answer?” He called once more. The response never came only grunts and more stares.

“Let’s bleed him!”

“Kill him!”

The group charged forward. The enemy sheathed his sword in a matter of seconds, then charged forward.

Blood filled the air. All those who had rushed forward stopped dead. The sight before them too distracting.

In a simple motion, the stranger had rammed the first with his shoulder, while breaking the grip on the attacker’s weapon. With a new sword in hand, Two cuts were launched and two men fell. The blade then killed its owner laying sprawled on the ground. He withdrew it and began walking forward.

His strides even and confidence seem was shown in each slow step.

The second’s weapon fell prey to the stranger. Armed with two swords he moved forward into the oncoming army. They all drew in sharp breaths as he came closer.

He suddenly sprinted forward. The whole group tensed, but it was too late to block.

“!!!” Those in the front suddenly were missing their heads. As their bodies fell the stranger became a whirling of steel as he dropped behind them.

Limbs were sent flying, as the shouts of pain deafened the silence.

But it was far from over.

The stranger, like an animal, moved with impossible grace. A knee meet the first man to rush forward. The stranger went into a spin, as did his blades. Necks were severed in the bizarre display of flexibility. His landing crushed the skull of the man he had kicked but didn’t seem to happen for longer than a blink.

Before any could react the group he had landed in was flat on the ground with legs severed or stab wounds.

Yet, he never stayed still.

The stranger moved like an arrow. Piercing deeper and deeper in the enemy mob. Men pushed forward but soon fell into hell. Those behind lost nerve and bladder control all too quickly.

That half second hesitation was meet with death. A blade pierced one’s throat, while another's legs were taken out from under him. His collapse took a few with them, but all died by a spear piercing them all in the chest.

The group continued a half attack and retreat til they finally rejoined the main army, but they too were not ready for such a thing.

“What the hell is he?!”

“Don’t falter, attack!”

“What kind of moves are those!?”

Before their eyes, a numeric advantage had been crushed and taken advantage of. The man was a blur trailing behind the returning group. He was only visible for instances as he cut men down.

The men couldn't tell what was going on. None of them were battle trained to face this kind of thing. Their tactics relied on guerrilla warfare and duration fights, but that meant nothing, to a surprise attack.

One thing was clear to all of them. No weapon was foreign not him. The stranger pulled a spear from the ground and sideswiped a coming group of three. As he let it fly with them, a battle axe appeared out of thin air in his hand. A head went flying and suddenly he had a sword in each hand.

One image appeared in their minds as he came closer. His moves become clearer, and all of them could only things of one thing.

He danced with swords. Even if their senses of war and battle were dulled they could tell the genuine article without hesitating.

After the First king had vanished, the need to have well-trained officers slow dissipated. Numerical advantages became essential, but that age of that was coming to an end and the old one was rearing its head with pride.

Blood filled the air as the stranger cut a new foe down, with ease. But that was a secondary to the men. It was the smile plastered on his blood stained face that caught all their eyes, even as they turned to run.

A thing of the past. A being no one country used often anymore. A being near a king, but at the same time far too different.

“A weapon dancer.” A being capable of amazing feats. One that became entranced in the song of any weapon that came to his hand.

That is why even if the stranger was a boy of no older than his teens, he was something to be feared.

A kick flung out of nowhere strike one in the face, and the stranger jumped on his head breaking the neck and sliced the next one ahead of him. The all it was a blur of blades and blood as he grew farther from the dead.

There fear only identified upon seeing this example.

Every man’s weapon became his. The newest sword found the gut of a beast man who had rushed forward. A soldier came in behind with a spear aimed at the spine. A sure kill, and yet,

The man flung back and grabbed the spear. As if he was light as a feather he spun from below using the spear as a bar. A kick found the spearman’s face and he fell relinquishing his spear. The stranger fell back to the ground both feet planted firmly. His back open, men came rushing. Two with swords, and one for the side with a war hammer.

With a spin around, he blocked the two swords. Then he struck the butt of the spear sending it clear through the man coming at the side and a few behind even him. The swords having lost the resistant, finished their arcs of attack, but only found the space he had been only seconds before.

Suddenly one the swords vanished…..and found the throat of one of them. A fist found the previous owner’s throat.

Before they even hit the ground, the man moved forward again. A war hammer sudden appeared as he met the new threat. Suddenly he shifted his weight from one foot and started a spin that carried it thru the defense of the coming enemies.

Armor broke under the pressure and carried the man he hit straight into the other men alongside him to the ground. Then the hammer went up and struck men like nails. The sound of their crushed skulls audible to anyone even a few feet away.

A beast man broke through the men attempting to run. A dual edged weapon in hand as he rushed forward.

It just one guy...I am stronger than any human!!

His burly arm covered in fur swung the large weapon like a twig. He strikes more than enough to kill a rampaging elephant, and yet…

“He parried them all!” The stranger, as he came closer, kicked a blade up from below him and then as the beast man swings came angled his blade just enough for each killing seek to harmless go passed in and strike a few unlucky ones within each reach.

What is he? The latest swing was just about to be parried so he adjusted his grip and brought it up. A sure kill. No human could dodge with their slow…..the strange fell black and pushed single handed off the ground and landed back on his feet. Then he came forward with two swords that had been dropped by fleeing soldiers.

No way! He could tell. His instincts wouldn't let him forget. He would die. There was no weak spot or place for him to take advantage of. His reach has been his downfall…..If he’d been human.

“RAHHHH” he threw his weapon. It came like a speeding bullet, but the man simply spun off on one foot barely dodging it and pierced the beast man's brown fur with ease. His head swam.

Not yet!. Furry ars grabbed the stranger. He dug his claws in deep and made sure he wouldn’t move. He tiger face came close, to the stranger.

“GET HIM!!!!” His throat burned and his mind wandered as the pain crept from his chest.

His smaller enemies jumped from the back of their allies. There speed like bullets as they raced down for the sky and the two fell at him for his blind spot, while engaged a new foe. His back eager to meet their daggers.

Now die….

“You were strong,” the beast man died before he could register the voice. His grip on the shoulder slacked just enough.

“But you are weak!!!” The stranger’s voice was too small for others to hear.

“!!!!!!” Without turning his back, he broke free of the hold. The beastman’s claws were raised. The two couldn't dodge. Guts were impaled by the waiting claws. The stranger went forward and under the beastman's body. He threw himself back and used the force and motion to threw the body back. It went flying with two other skrewed on his stretched arms.

The sudden event took down enemies coming from behind, but the two enemies had left their weapons behind. Two short daggers now filled each hand.

He kicked off the ground.

The war goes on!!! A smile was blazing on the stranger’s face.