As Riko’s breathing grew heavier, a sensation unfamiliar for years gleamed. The thrill of the fight. The excitement of a challenge in which, contrary to what was always a predictable outcome, victory was not guaranteed. Ivy had learned all he had to teach, and now she was pouring everything into their sparring session.

Her movements, her breathing, everything was on par with him, but it was her dedication what outpaced his own, a desire for improvement spurred by his thirst for revenge that he had neglected. Added to the hours of physical work and hand combat technique, Ivy practised every day with her sword, and the work of her feet, which would be the same with weapons as with fists. Now she made Riko dance to her rhythm. Something he was not used to.

As he raised his elbow, aiming for her chin with controlled force, Ivy sidestepped gracefully. Her leg swept immediately, reaching to kick him from balance. A move he had foreseen, but reacted too late. He rolled on the floor, pushing his arms up to propel himself backward, landing on his feet again, raising arms to a defensive stance. Right in time, as Ivy's punch reached forward, also half force, but still powerful enough to numb his forearm. The next two jabs tried to find a gap, while Riko raised his elbows straight, aiming to hurt the knuckles of the next fist. Instead, Ivy feinted an uppercut but threw a hook to the ear, a punch Riko barely made it miss. The next two blows came with the speed of a light bolt, landing hard against his stomach. His muscles, already tensed to absorb the impact, welcomed the pain as his legs faltered to the relentless precise rain of kicks and punches coming from everywhere, each one finding its mark.

Overwhelmed, Riko made a split-second decision, tackling her and sending both to a roll across the ground. His only way to win was to use his bigger body to submit to her. She twisted and pushed against him, her own strength almost at his same level. If he were a normal man, she’d have escaped for sure. She was, after all, a freak of nature, physically far superior to any other human being. But Riko was not ordinary either: he was a freak, too. Older, yes. Slightly slower and slightly stronger, perhaps. But way more experienced.

“That’s enough.” Marie’s voice calmed the frantic struggle of arms and legs intertwining to gain an advantage in the grips. “We have much to do, and this training is taking too long.”

With no need to say anything, the two eased at the same time. “I would have won this time,” Ivy signed, her hands trembling with the rush of the moment.

“In your dreams, girl,” Riko said as he stood, his face forcing a smirk of superiority with little backup from his inner thoughts.

Peh, Marie’s assistant, approached with a towel and a piece of paper. “What’s this?” Riko asked, taking the document.

“The list of supplies we require,” she replied. “You need to tell Adan to bring more food, or we’ll be in trouble.”

Oleg, the former chief of Rangers, appeared with another paper in hand. His hand trembled, not from any aftermath of battle but from the inner war he’d fought daily against drink, a battle Riko had seen many men lose. Yet, Oleg was doing well, something Riko respected deeply.

The Ranger handed the paper to Ivy and cleared his throat before speaking. “We’ve got twenty new people from Ujan, five from Hanan, and seven from Parnis. The twenty from Ujan are freedom fighters, and four of the Hanan are former golden warriors. All want to join the Rangers.”

“Have you seen them? Do they seem trustworthy?” Ivy signed.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“I think so, but,’ Oleg said, doubt clouding his face. “I think we should keep a few eyes on them during training. Well, I don’t know. I’m not sure, that’s why I came.”

Riko stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Oleg’s shoulder. “Ivy trusts you, and so do I.”

With Ivy’s nod of agreement, Oleg seemed to cheer up. He turned to leave, but paused. “Ah, there’s something else. Just a hunch, but... I don’t know.”

“Spit it out,” Riko said.

“The ship that arrived a week ago, with dwellers from the southwest. Some of them feel... I don’t like them. My gut tells me something’s off, though it might just be the lack of buzz.”

“Tell the men to keep an eye on them as well.”

Riko moved toward Marie, who raised a hand to stop him. “Don’t you dare come to my tent all sweaty! Clean yourself up and come afterward. Both of you. We need to settle how many of my ships you want for Male because the numbers don’t match. If you overload them with crews, they’ll be too heavy to cross the shallows. Not to mention the cannons.”

Riko sighed. Marie could be difficult, but she was always right. She had no experience in war, but her knowledge ensured the logistics were smooth. She was a woman who knew what needed to be done, no matter the costs, and a leader ready to take any hardships on herself if that helped others. And because of all of that, he respected her more than anyone else.

When Riko finally reached his tent, he collapsed into a chair as a young girl poured a drink into a glass. Another young man cleared the table of papers, preparing a light meal before the upcoming meetings. When Riko raised his glass, he noticed the young man sneaking a nervous glance. The girl waited, expecting to pour more after he drank. As the glass hovered motionless, not reaching their lips, the discomfort between them became slightly more apparent. “You two are new, never seen your faces before.” Riko said, his guts talking more than his mouth.

“We arrived last week,” the girl said, her friendliness almost exaggerated.

“The ship from the southwest?”

“Yes, sir,” the man replied, sweating more than he should. Riko’s eyes narrowed, and his nose searched for any unusual scent. “What have you added, petals of the fallen, or essence of Krank?”

The girl’s eyes widened in shock before she bolted from the tent. The man stepped in the way, brandishing a small knife. “It was powder of Rica, enough to let me finish the job!”

He lunged, but even seated, Riko was ready. His leg shot out, stopping the man’s charge and breaking his arm with a front kick. Knife flew into a spin while a following elbow reached at the attacker’s face, snapping nose bone and sending him to the ground before his weapon clattered over the table.

A guard rushed in, probably alerted by the girl’s panicked flight. As Riko leapt forward, worry etched, pushing him to dash outside. During the run to Ivy’s tent, his senses quickly picked up that something was not right. Rangers and soldiers rushing around proved the attempt on his life had been part of something much larger. A series of attacks sprinkled through the entire camp. Bits of a bigger plan and an even bigger threat.

He found Ivy near her tent, her sword dripping with blood. Oleg stood beside her, his sabre also stained.

“We are fine,” Oleg said.

Riko scanned the camp, troops rushing back and forth. From the chaos, a small team of Marie’s best rangers escorted her and her assistant towards them. All unharmed.

“We got a few of them alive,” one ranger yelled. “We’ll find out who’s behind this.”

“It doesn’t matter if this was the Kraken of Vega, the pirates of Indri, or anyone else,” Riko said. “They’re all one enemy to us. An enemy is already too close. We need to finish our planning and start our moves. Now.”