Numisley found this book that contains information about Feats and Roles a bit wordy, but he parsed through the information that he needed. The same information that nobility and royalty, as well as powerful people of every land, had. He thought that it was interesting. He thought that if he had more influence, equivalent to the leaders of the Five Corporations that rule Libertalia for example, can he assign his brother a more advanced-Role? He skimmed through the rest of the entry until he got to…
Numisley saw an extinguished candle beside him, melted into a pile of hard wax on a brass candleholder. He realized that he fell asleep while reading the book. He picked up the book lying down on his chest.
“Want to read this?” He handed Cultrost the book, and his brother reached for it from the other bed. He caressed his hand on the first page.
“We got a long day ahead of us.” The Satyr remarked.
“True,” Numisley remarked.
-
It has been a day after Numisley gave the commander of the Severed Swords ammunition to blackmail the [Mayor] of Lynt. Aside from the rest of the payment that he extorted from the [Mayor], he also has wrung out another pile of gold coins. Palden offered to help their [Quartermaster] organize the rest of the supplies while he ingratiated with the rest of the company overnight. With Palden’s Feats, the space of their wagons was doubled, so he was more than welcome in their company.
The [Mayor] was careful and smart enough to comply with his demands and not make a big deal out of this to hire the five other mercenary groups to assassinate Graten, because the town will be embroiled in a war within their walls when that happens. The caravan of five wagons and around thirty people left the gates of Lynt, as people watched them leave, and the caravan headed north to the city of Dotterm through the Overthere Hills, which are a few hours away. Numisley and Cultrost sat at the lead wagon, accompanied by Graten. Palden volunteered to pull the reins and lead the caravan. The caravan has only a few horses, most of them dedicated to pulling the wagons, so the rest of those who can’t fit the wagon marched beside them.
“We are heading out! Walk.” Palden commanded the two horses as he jerked the reins. The horses started walking, and assisted by a Feat, their pace doubled in speed even if the horses are trotting.
-
Atasaney’s Prowlers’ were waiting within the trees on the Overthere Hills, packing up their things and extinguishing their campfires. Instead of besieging Lynt just to capture Jascias’ sons, they waited on the most likely path that they would take.
“Ridi, lead the first charge, with your squad,” Atasaney ordered.
“The first charge?” He asked. “But I’m new to your company, and they might not follow my orders.”
“You have [Mercenary Captain] and [Forest Lancer] Roles despite your lack of experience. Besides, I allow it. It’s a tradition for a new member with experience in leading to lead the first charge of his first clash with our company.”
Ridi had already been recognized as a part of the company and had even people assigned under his command by his [Mercenary Captain] Role so that his Feats can be useful. Of course, at first, he was not trusted, some even harboring jealousy, until he revealed how competent he is. The reason why their targets did not know that they are following them for the past few days was because of his [Unit: Riding Expertise (Forest)], which he used on a couple of [Riders] when they took the long route through the Boiugh Forest beside the path that their target took. They had an easier time riding through the forests with that Feat. A day later, they were ambushed by a Veilhide Bear behind a tree, hidden by its near-invisible hide, gutting three [Riders] with a single swipe. Although a regrettable loss, gold coins appeared within his purse from his [Recompensation of Losses] Feat. He gave the coins from the Feat to Atasaney, the actual [Commander] of course.
Now, they see a caravan of five wagons traveling through the dirt road within the Overthere Hills, named simply because some [Mercenaries] got lost centuries ago and asked the locals where is the way to their fortress. They already were mounted at their horses, hidden within the trees with Atasaney’s Feat that kept them hidden among the foliage.
“[Delegate Command]. Vanguard, follow Ridi Gadihew in the first charge. Rear, you are with me. Javelin volley. Encircle the caravan.” After giving his commands, he turned to Ridi.
“Advance at a canter.” Ridi led the vanguard, their horses in a trot. He held his lance tightly. Their horses already left the forest on the hills, and they were in sight.
“Advance at full gallop! Cast spells!” The [Riders] at the vanguard pointed their enspelled wands with stored spells. A wall of earth blocked the front of the caravan, startling the horses. [Stone Darts], [Fireballs], and other Tier 2 and 3 Spells were unleashed from their cheap wands in a volley. One [Mercenary] of the Severed Swords got unluckily knocked out by a [Stone Dart] after he alerted everybody on the caravan, but the experienced Severed Swords kept their shields up as they moved with the caravan.
Atasaney and the rest rode behind them and started to split from left to right. He raised his javelin and aimed.
“[Guiding Spear]. [Lesser Strength: Throwing]. [Unit: Piercing Volley].”
His javelin traced a low arc in the air, glowing. It seemed to guide the other javelins that were thrown from the [Riders] who started to encircle the caravan. The Severed Swords pointed their wands with stored spells and crossbows to the riders. Bolts pierced horse and [Rider], and many of the cavalry were tripped on webs or jutting stones conjured by magic.
“[Magnetic Shield]. [Shield: Bulwark Barrier].” The old [Shieldbearer] had climbed up the canvas roof of the lead caravan. An ethereal barrier akin to a wall appeared from his shield and it covered the wagon. The javelins imbued with [Piercing Volley] only “cracked” the barrier partially as he drew some of the projectiles towards the barrier, but still, a lot of javelins had pierced at least two wagons. The fourth wagon had one of its wheels destroyed despite Palden’s Feats that gave it durability, halting the fifth wagon. Some of the [Riders]’ horses tripped on lines of rope that haven’t been there before.
“Trap-Feat! Careful!” Ridi warned the rest of the [Riders]. Now that they were aware of the taut ropes on the ground, they were able to avoid them completely. The Dullahan jumped from the lead wagon and beheaded two horses charging towards them, his two blades gleaming in the air. He saw Ridi galloping towards him with a couched lance.
The riders completely encircled the caravan, as the hired [Mercenaries] tried to fight the mounted enemies. Although the Severed Swords had experience fighting cavalry, Atasaney’s men were simply better. One raised a shield, enchanted to ward a few strikes, but a female [Rider] just pierced his shield even if he saw her coming, prepared to stab the enemy with his spear. Two dismounted [Riders] charged towards seven [Mercenaries] of the Severed Swords that formed a complete defensive line, and one of them unleashed a [Stone Spray] Spell from his enspelled rod. The dismounted [Rider] with a cutlass simply deflected the conjured stones that were faster than an arrow, as the one with a mace crushed the head of one of them even if he blocked it with a shield. Casualties were mounting on the Severed Swords’ side as [Riders] mowed them down.
Atasaney threw a javelin that crackled with sparks and lightning, but a shield deflected it and it absorbed and dissipated the electricity in the air.
“You two buy time for us so that we can escape!” Palvt told Gorebur.
“That means they’re going to be left behind!” Palden argued.
“They’re here for that notebook! Even dumb ol’ me can see that. They’re one of the best mercenary bands in the area! What in Libertalia’s broken crowns hired them?” Gorebur barked.
“It’s either us or them! Use your best Feats now!” Palvt snapped at Palden.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Numisley overheard the argument from outside, grimly waiting for the worse within the wagon and the other people who could fight.
“Dornlor! We fight ‘till they die, or we die!” Gorebur jumped from the wagon, thumping his sword on his shield. Atasaney and two more [Riders] rode towards the lead wagon, but Gorebur threw his shield with a Feat, knocking down Atasaney’s horse. One [Rider] was cut down by the Dullahan who rushed towards Gorebur, which deflected a lance strike from the last [Rider]. As soon as he passed him by, he was impaled by a crossbow bolt from Palden. The [Caravan Master] looked back and cursed his indecisiveness, as the two last wagons on the back were destroyed, the people manning it already slain. He did a swift and sharp turn with the wagon, swerving away from the [Earth Wall].
“[Ram’s Charge], [Caravan: Eleventh Hour Wheels]!” The remaining caravan accelerated with him, as the horses roam through the encirclement with renewed might and vigor, knocking away two riders. Their wheels continuously accelerated as if they are running late. Numisley looked back and saw [Riders] chasing them with their fastest speed. Ridi chased after the wagon after he was ordered to do so with a couple of [Riders]. Dust clouds conjured by the wheels of the wagons blocked their vision, but they swerved. Two of his [Riders] were knocked out from their horses by conjured rocks with the speed of arrows. Before they knew it, the cloud of dust expanded and engulfed them. They burst out of the cloud, but before they knew it, their targets were gone.
Before them are three paths among the hills, but all of them were blocked by rubble. They were out of Feats that can traverse over the pile of rubble, and by the minute they were farther and farther away, so they cut short the chase and ride to report back.
-
“[Perfect Thrust]!”
After struggling with the Dullahan for several minutes, sustaining cuts across his body that still bled blue, Atasaney finally was able to pierce the head of the Dullahan after his enchantment ran out.
He turned and he saw the other one still fighting, now berserk. He already cut down five of his men and women even when his shield arm was severed. Sensibly, the [Riders] kited around him at a good distance so they could throw javelins at him. Five javelins impaled him on the ground and he still writhes, removing one from his body. Before he could remove another one, he simply bled to death after minutes of fighting.
“Casualties?” Atasaney snapped to one of his men, downing a healing potion to hinder his bleeding.
“Seven dead, fifteen injured.” A Satyr of his company reported. Ridi rode back with the [Riders] under his command.
“Sir, they escaped! They collapsed the paths in the Overthere Hills. We were out of Feats, so-” Ridi reported.
“By the Eight Divines! Requisition what you can for the supplies in the wagons. Get me my signal stone!”
Someone handed Atasaney a smooth stone with an inscribed rune on it. It glowed after he tapped on it. Soon, a single lacquered carriage arrived, guarded by twenty [Riders]. No ordinary men rode with the caravan; all of them carried enchanted weapons and high-grade armor made from a metal stronger than steel, and its layered segments made from the sturdy leather of strong monsters. [Mages] with enchanted robes and staves of crystal also rode in their company.
Atasaney faced the door of the carriage, its shutters and curtains still closed, yet the person inside can see him perfectly from the inside.
“We had eliminated two of his men, Dornlor and Gorebur. Individuals speculated to have achieved Arc Two. The existence of the notebook is confirmed, in the possession of Numisley Gildin and Cultrost Gildin.”
“Hm. I gave you the best information my [Informants] can give, and you still didn’t capture the bastard or the notebook.” The female voice within the carriage boomed, dismay, disappointed, and disinterested in her tone. “No matter. The contract is done.”
Two of her men carried a heavy-looking gilded chest and it is placed on the grass with a thump. One of them opened up the chest, revealing a pile of gold coins, capturing the greedy stares of the [Mercenaries].
“I’ll hire someone else." She voiced with contempt. “You won't be able to hunt them in Dotterm because it’s the territory of the damned Temers.”
Atasaney raised his eyebrows, surprised that the contract ended abruptly even if their objective isn’t complete.
“We will head back.” The voice within that carriage ordered her men. The carriage and its guards accelerated, literally leaving them in the dust as their canter outpaced them simply because of their Feats.
“Damn.” Atasaney gaped.
-
After Palvt cast a Spell that caused a landslide, they kept their pace going.
“How close are we to Dotterm?” Numisley asked.
“Two or three days if we kept this pace. We will need to find a secure spot soon at the camp.” Graten told Haovel.
“I can use a Feat to keep us going through the night.” Palden offered.
“No need. Use it if we need to rush. They already lost us with the Spell that he cast.” Graten turned to Palvt, who is sleeping in the carriage from the fatigue caused by mana deficiency.
As the sun had set, they set up camp at one of the peaks of the Overthere Hills. They were at a vantage point where they can see the narrow path where they came from. They can see the silhouettes of the wolves stalking the slopes on the hills away from them, hiding within the trees. The fifteen remaining men of the Severed Swords were standing guard around the camp, scattered in different advantageous positions.
Cultrost kept the knowledge of Feats from that brown book in mind as he struck the trunk of a tree repeatedly, practicing his swing and hoping that he would gain a Feat the next day. He had read the book in his free time after the attack. The bark of the tree was already peeled off from his mace. He always thought that maces are the most useful weapon. Mainly because even if the person doesn’t have [Warrior] Role, a mace is still effective against armored opponents. He gained the [Warrior] Role when he killed a wild Barkhide Boar that was attacking their home with a club years ago, and he felt brave that day. He was stuck within any new Role since. He wants to be better than that; because his brother had already held a [Mayor] hostage with one secret. As he wiped the sweat on his horns, he sensed someone behind him, his blond hair fluttering in the wind.
“Want to spar?” Graten asked Cultrost, looking to loosen up with some exercise.
“Sure. No Feats?” Cultrost verified.
“No Feats.” Graten agreed.
-
Cultrost stepped back as he parried a stab, then he stepped quickly forwards to strike Graten’s head.
“Hit.”
Before Cultrost can touch his forehead, Graten had already tapped his blade on Cultrost’s side.
“Do not overcommit at the first opportunity. Try to injure their sword-arm first or any open limb with that mace.”
They already had ten bouts throughout the night. Cultrost managed to touch him at the ankle in the fourth bout. No Feats were involved except for the ones that passively improved their ability for this practice bout. With each light clash, they mutually got to know each other. They withdrew their weapons, lowering them as their breath fogged and sweat cold.
“Nice work, kid.” Graten slapped him in the shoulder.
“It’s nothing…” Cultrost scratched his horns.
“It’s likely that you’ll get something after what happened.” He sat down on a rock, looking at the reflection of his sword in the moonlight. “And me too, I guess.”
“Sorry.” Cultrost apologized.
“For what?” Graten stared at him.
“Because of my brother’s mess, we got your men killed.” His yellow irises among his black sclera looked down in shame. A tear splashed on the moonlit blade.
“The death of your men is a given when you are leading a mercenary group, especially in this land of Liberan.” Graten’s voice never faltered even if there is tears in his eyes. “I will send each of their families money someday.”
Cultrost stared at his tear-stained sword that shone in the moonlight, and he thought of another way to repay him.
“We have more than that black notebook.” Cultrost blurted, remembering a passage that might be useful. Cultrost grabbed the brown book from his leather satchel.
“Hm?” Graten raised his eyebrows.
“This book contains the secrets of Roles and Feats. The knowledge of the nobility.” He handed him the book, placing it on his lap. Graten’s eyes widened. Cultrost turned the page where that specific passage is.
“Well, it’s just an example of a Weapon Art. As far as I know, this isn’t a list of Feats and such. Maybe, you can give this a try?”
“I see.” He picked up his sword reverently. He swung it slowly in a crescent, angling it in such a way that the moonlight seemingly traced down the central ridge of the blade, making the tears still on the blade sparkle.
He pivoted on his heel, slowly turning to perform another slow horizontal slash, trying to learn how to swing a sword properly again. He slowly swung, again and again, progressively getting faster and faster artfully. And once, the blade shone with a silver aura, wet like dew, tracing a pattern of moonlight in the air, with tiny drops of water akin to rain.
[Role Played, Sword Captain.]
[Theme, Loss attained.]
[Unlocked Epic Feat - My Blade Carried My Loss, developed.]
Graten’s eyes widened with awe, hope, and most of all gratefulness, his new Feat gleaming silver in his being.
[Unlocked Sword Art - Moontear Blade, realized.]
[Moontear Blade: Crescent Cut developed.]
He turned around, but he realized that Cultrost already left, and had gone to sleep. The moon is now at its highest point, and he raised his blade in victory.
Cultrost’s efforts finally paid off, the rewards being etched in his Role as he slept.
[Role Played, Warrior]!
[Feat - Power Strike, developed.]
[Feat - Long Backstep, developed.]