The preparations for Riaz's departure were well underway with his spare clothes and provisions already lumped together on the bed.

The odor of sweat permeated the room in which Riaz performed his sword routine and, focused as he was to replicate the moment of his enlightenment, his forceful steps eventually scattered.

"This ain't it!" bemoaned Riaz and held himself back from stomping his feet in anger.

Back when he fought against Volan Hobb, he was shockingly close to losing an arm and yet, before the horror came to pass, he entered a mysterious trance that saved his skin.

During that moment, his body moved as though directed by his deepest instincts and unleashed a technique that he, no matter how much he tried, couldn't replicate.

From the first moment, that his feet could firmly carry him, he picked up the sword to try and remember how to move according to that feeling.

Even his dauntingly strict teacher tried to dissuade him from picking up the sword so soon, but, seeing the improved state of Riaz's condition, he eventually left him to his devices.

One would find it hard to believe that this boy was the very same who days ago teetered on the verge of death; he had simply recovered too fast.

Riaz had made a swift recovery due in no small part to the miraculous healing powers of the Primordial Source Water, though he knew little of the exact measures his teacher had taken.

As far as he was concerned, he understood that he was fed some good medicine that left some potent residual energies in his body.

He had naturally taken his time to replenish his internal energy and absorbed the residual medicine, reaching a point where he could tax his body for extended periods of time; however, no matter how fast he recovered, for him it was not fast enough.

He had missed his chance.

The crucial feeling had left him and the vaguest of sensations lingered to guide his steps, albeit insufficient to aid his progress of recreating the move of unknown origins.

Riaz ran his hand through his sweaty hair, slicking it back and resumed his stance.

He itched to remember. He wanted to regain that feeling of control and unyielding resolve. The move that cleft Volan's sword in two; he had to remember it.

The move had a name, once upon a time maybe, but it was now forgotten. His obsession with the technique reached a point that prompted him to come up with a new name for it.

The sword in his hand glided through the air in a smooth motion, his waist twisting as he pivoted around his right foot.

The name of the technique, he had told it to Aldean who spat out his drink and laughed as well as to Salara whose face nearly cramped up from hearing it.

The name of the technique...

"Bladecracker!" shouted Salara enthusiastically.

Riaz stumbled over his feet and nearly dropped his sword in the process.

"What... why are you shouting that name?" asked Riaz discontentedly, glaring at the girl who was perched on a chair by the bed.

"Because! You have to shout the name of your technique when you use it, am I wrong?" asserted Salara.

"Nonsense! Whatever gave you that idea?" Riaz rolled his eyes and returned both hands to his sword.

Salara's eyes innocently pointed to the ceiling as she placed a finger on her chin and explained, "Hmm... I did walk past your door once while you were training. I'm pretty sure I've heard you shout the name that time."

"You must have misheard!" insisted Riaz with a tinge of redness on his cheeks. "Now can I return to my training? Why are you here anyway? Don't you have work to do somewhere?"

Salara pouted and softly rebuked, "Don't be like that!"

She sounded pitiful and practically jumped off her chair right after, straightening out an apron that she was wearing over her regular clothing.

Her feet, with brown socks, flitted across the floorboards and promptly arrived next to Riaz.

Her hands reached for his before she cheerfully looked up at him and asked in a soft tone, "I've never swung a sword before, can I try?"

Riaz looked at her sparkling eyes and his attitude melted somewhat. "Can you even lift it?"

One of his hands released the hilt of the sword and brushed against her fingers before grabbing her hand and guiding it past the pommel.

"Hold it firmly now," said Riaz as he carefully relinquished his sword. "It's heavy, so use both hands."

"Mhm!" Salara affirmed with a nod and stiffly held onto the steel weapon with its tip touching down on the floor.

"You weren't kidding," she noted as the weight of the sword lay in her hands fully.

Riaz, with a faint smile, stepped behind her and, with both hands, gently pulled on her shoulders, then pressed against her back.

Her body squirmed barely noticeably as he corrected her posture with an attentive gaze.

The rigorous motions of the past weeks were so firmly engraved in his every fiber that he knew just the way to adjust her stance.

There may not be a master in Riaz yet, but his knowledge more than sufficed to impart the basic impressions to another; most of all, it sufficed to impress a young woman.

"Then, do I just lift it up?" asked Salara with a rosy glow on her cheeks.

She could clearly feel Riaz's presence at her back. After swinging his sword for so long, the youth practically radiated warmth from his body.

"The form is important, let me help you." Riaz reached forward and his arms enclosed her. Layering his hands on top of hers, he helped her raise the sword.

When his chest touched her small back, he swallowed hard and his lips tightly clamped up. Meanwhile, his eyes switched focus to her hands.

Her soft hands were incomparable to his calloused palms and her hair smelled like soap in contrast to his disheveled hair which could use a wash.

It felt like a crime to stick to her like this, to defile her with his grimy touch.

Slowly, Riaz helped her to swing down.

Once one had gotten used to it, the sword wasn't all that heavy, but Riaz continued to guide her hands intimately.

Neither him nor Salara raised any complaints as their bodies snugly pressed against one another. Riaz even stopped paying attention to the form of her swings and just repeated the motion with a blank mind, as did the girl between his arms.

Eventually, she raised her face and looked behind, her eyes seeking his.

Riaz's heartbeat accelerated, as felt by Salara through her back where their fabrics rubbed together.

From up close, her eyes looked almost radiant.

Riaz hardly noticed himself getting drawn to her charms, not even rattled awake by the soft trembles of her hands.

Her eyes slowly closed and it was as if all the noises of the town died on command. One would be able to hear a pin drop at that moment.

Riaz felt an unprecedented wave of nervousness. A sort of crippling feeling that not even the lethal threat of a blade could emulate.

Gone was the warrior and a boy remained.

His body forgot how to breathe while the moment seemed to stretch into eternity.

Slowly, he craned his flushed neck downwards when, all of a sudden, the door to his room swung wide open.

"It is time!" proclaimed Aldean and stepped through the door.

His eyes fixed themselves on his disciple, who was so startled that one could mistake it as his soul leaving the body.

The arms around Salara quickly withdrew as Riaz took a step back while she took a step forward and lowered her eyes in embarrassment.

Aldean curled his lips and took notice of the palpably awkward mood then gazed upon the items piled up on the bed.

"You aren't ready yet?" he scoffed. "Brat, you sure love dragging your feet, don't you?"

His eyes wandered towards the girl in the room and both Salara and Riaz simultaneously stiffened up.

"Well, it's not like I can't see why, but there's a time and place for everything. You've had your spare time." Aldean remarked matter-of-factly then hurled a misshapen burlap bag towards his disciple.

Riaz caught it and stared back at Aldean with question marks all over his face.

"Put it on and meet me by the door. Don't dawdle!" instructed Aldean and left the room as quickly as he came.

Standing around with a bewildered expression, Riaz hesitated on how to proceed from here. He eyed the bag and then the girl, who was more than an arm's length away from him.

"Are you leaving now?" asked Salara with a jittery voice.

"Yeah," Riaz moved to the bed with a few brisk steps and put the bag down. "I have lost track of time."

Still holding his sword, he opened the burlap bag with his free hand and creased his eyebrows upon seeing something unexpected.

"What is it? What's in the bag?" Salara approached him and, after peeking inside, reached into the bag to retrieve a piece of leather.

"Oh! Is this protective gear?" she asked, turning the item in her hands. "I've seen it before. The old armorer Guain makes these, just down the road and around the corner."

The piece itself seemed ordinary at first glance, but its durability was bound to be quite satisfactory since it was produced in a town frequented by adventurers.

"Give it here, l'll try it on," said Riaz, reaching for the piece of armor but failing to grab it.

Salara had playfully pulled the piece away from him, saying, "I'll help you put it on, okay? Just move over a bit and stay still!"

The task wasn't necessarily one that he needed help with, but it was not a big deal to let her have her way just once.

Stolen novel; please report.

Riaz picked up a scabbard from on top of the bed and sheathed his sword, then tossed it near the pile of clothing.

Afterwards, his head turned to take a brief look at Salara, who clung to the leather piece like a possessive magpie with her lips curled into a subtle smirk.

"Go ahead then," said Riaz as he stepped away from the bed and straightened up, lifting his arms towards the sides.

Salara was quick to approach him with the piece in her hand and held it out before her, trying to place it in her mind.

Piece by piece, she slowly worked towards the completion of her task. From greaves to bracers and a sturdy belt she finally moved onto the chestpiece.

Strapping the armor to his chest, Salara leaned in and whispered into his ear, "Do you really have to go?"

Riaz's gaze lowered and he drew an audible breath.

"I have to," he finally said. "I must participate in the selection."

"What selection?" Salara pursed her lips. It was the first time she had heard about it.

Riaz gently swept aside her hands and returned to the bedside, where he then grabbed the bag and haphazardly stuffed all of his things into it.

"It's a process I must undergo," he said. "I have chosen to become my master's disciple after all, to become a warrior."

His reply served little to answer her question and it was clear that he wasn't willing to tell her, much to her dismay.

Salara's stomach bunched up and she tightly pressed her balled up hands against her chest.

'So he is leaving?' she thought. He was leaving after swooping into her life and leaving such a deep impression on her?

"Why?" asked the girl under her breath, mistakable as a sigh.

Although they hadn't known each other for long and one could simply count the days on their hand, she wasn't willing to let him go.

She wouldn't admit it, or maybe couldn't, but he had inadvertently become her anchor after the incident involving Volan; an incident that had left her mind scarred.

Salara couldn't tell why, but just being by the young man's side was enough to put her heart at ease. What was she to do about it?

She was assured of her good looks and could feel an attraction between each other, so was that not enough? Was it that important for him to leave so quickly?

The young man in question silently reached for his sword and fastened it to his belt, aware that his lack of explanation came off as distant and, in the eyes of the young woman, perhaps even mean.

Riaz wanted to explain to her why he had to leave, but could he? Could he really tell her why he had to become a warrior and why he had to risk his life on the path?

Ever since that one time his teacher lectured him about conviction, he understood that his reasons to swing the sword were half-baked at best and he had yet to find his true reason.

To fob her off with a lie wouldn't sit well with him in the slightest; he would much rather hold his silence.

He took another look at Salara and sighed.

Deep in her own thoughts, the girl waited by the door while he finished packing and eventually the two of them made their way downstairs.

The news of his departure had left her so dazed that she even forgot to put on her shoes, leading to her walking down in her socks and trailing behind the young man and his luggage.

For better or worse, there was nary a person to witness their wordless descent.

The building, at the time, was quiet and only Riaz's somewhat hurried steps could be heard from the stairway, with noises picking up the farther they descended along the stairs.

When the two finally reached the ground floor and stepped into the lobby, Riaz's eyes immediately caught onto the silhouette of his teacher, who stood by the counter with the innkeeper.

The latter could well afford to see him off during this time, since not much was going on. That was not to say anything adverse about the business, which was quite alright, actually.

Currently, only a few drinkers loitered within the service area which, beside their flagrant behavior, only came to life through the employees cleaning up before the evening.

The innkeeper raised a handkerchief and waved towards him. "There you are, boy. I heard you're leaving."

"Mister Rond." Riaz stepped up with Salara in tow and greeted the man.

He found out his name was Rond. Just Rond. Neither him nor his daughter were of nobility or otherwise high status, thus they had no family name.

The innkeeper, Rond, wiped off the sweat on his forehead and nervously eyed Aldean. This man had a bottomless stomach for alcohol and even ordered no small amount for the road.

He wondered, now that this man and his disciple were leaving, were things going to continue being peaceful or would trouble come find him?

'Ayoo, what an unlucky star.' Rond thought.

That's when the unsmiling warrior reached under his cloak and produced a coin pouch that he measured with a grip. The coins within clinked and his eyes swept over Rond and his daughter.

"Here, take this," said Aldean and handed Rond the money. "It should settle everything cleanly."

Rond held the pouch with both hands and with a twitch of his nose said, "That—"

"We have no relations. If someone insists, you know what to say." Aldean's eyes bore into him.

Rond nodded slowly. "Y-yes, you have taken to Belfura today, riding on horseback. Your destination is Vermond to the west of it. I remembered."

"That's right." Aldean reminded him, "Try not to sound so stiff when you report it next time or you'd risk even a drunkard doubting you."

He then turned towards his disciple and barked, "We're leaving!"

Riaz responded by approaching Aldean while Rond moved to stand next to Salara, putting a hand on her shoulder.

It was a touch that startled her, finally pulling the girl from her thoughts and back to the unpleasant reality.

Salara understood that they were soon to drift apart; he was bound to travel south, while she would remain here.

She looked towards him and he turned his head in precisely the same moment.

Their eyes inadvertently met and Salara shifted her weight, rubbing her left elbow.

"Will you come back?" she finally mustered up to ask.

Riaz replied calmly, "You bet."

He wasn't sure what sort of attitude to take, but surely it wouldn't hurt to be more amicable towards someone who's been treating him kindly, he thought.

"Really?" Salara's eyes seemed to brighten and her back straightened a little. "Then you promise to come stay here when you visit?"

The few people in the background could hardly stifle their reactions, be it employees or the blade king even, whose expression usually alternated between stoic and frivolous.

Riaz heard his teacher snicker behind him and the corners of his ears turned red.

He swallowed and, with a heightened tone, replied, "Of course! I wouldn't miss out on your company."

Salara seemed very responsive to his words, as told by the return of her smile and Riaz saw it as his cue to leave.

'It should be fine this way, right?' wondered Riaz.

Aldean was the first to step outside with his cloak fluttering behind him and Riaz, mere few steps behind, followed with one hand waving good-bye.

The last of Salara to reach his ears were her heartfelt words, wishing him a safe trip.

Outside, the master and disciple were flooded by bright daylight and the sounds of pedestrians marching on the road.

The number of armor-clad adventurers wasn't small and it wasn't odd to hear the sound of hooves or clanging metal amongst the crowd.

Many of the people seemed to hold onto leaflets and the mood seemed oddly suspicious.

Aldean lifted his right hand, barring Riaz from walking further.

"I have one more surprise in store for you, disciple." Aldean remained stone-faced, prompting Riaz to worry.

There was plenty of reason to be doubtful of Aldean's surprises, as the past had sufficiently proven.

'It's not another crackpot idea is it? Is he going to strap swords onto me or tell me to swim downriver for the rest of the way?' Riaz started listing possibilities in his head.

Aldean tilted his head and whipped his hand, striking Riaz in the gut with crisp noise.

He chuckled, "Why so tense? You aren't thinking anything stupid, are you?"

"N-No..." Riaz wrung out his reply in-between coughs.

The pair took to the stables which was situated next to the tavern: it was a place Riaz had visited before.

A middle-aged stable hand was busy attending to the horses, but when Aldean and Riaz passed through the gate, the man dropped everything to welcome them.

"Esteemed lord," the stable hand bowed, "it's all prepared. The horses are saddled-up and cannot wait to take to the fields."

"Mhm." Aldean flipped a shiny silver coin towards the man and walked ahead.

Riaz said thanks to the stable hand and received a toothy grin in return, then gave chase to Aldean.

He asked, "Didn't the man say 'horses'? As in, multiple? What's going on?"

Aldean replied, "Why don't you see for yourself?"

They stopped in front of a particular box stall and Riaz could spot a massive white shape within. The lighting was anything but good and yet the white appeared almost radiant.

Aldean unlocked the door and led out a white horse by the reins. At first it acted up, but a stern look from Aldean seemed to flip a switch that corrected its behavior.

Riaz could see the horse nervously swish its tail with ears flickering back and forth.

It henceforth accompanied Aldean quite willingly it seemed, although the horse's hooves dragged across the hay on the floor.

Riaz convinced himself that he was just imagining things.

"This boy is called 'Adel'. He's a proud horse and quite young. Remain mindful of his temper." Aldean cautioned him.

"Teacher, what... I think—"

"It's your horse!" asserted Aldean. "A courtesy of the Viscount, heh."

"The Viscount? Viscount Hobb?" Riaz's jaw slacked. "He gave me a horse?"

Aldean nodded, handing Riaz the reins. "Just accept it for now. We have need for it."

He told Riaz to wait and went to fetch Moonshine. Meanwhile, Riaz took the chance to brush his hand along Adel's neck.

The horse snorted at him, but it didn't deter him from continuing.

While it did seem proud, just as Aldean said, and refused to look at Riaz, the latter obstinately tried to get a hold of Adel's face.

"Come on, Adel. Let's get along!" said Riaz cheerfully.

As much as his memories were missing, he couldn't remember having a horse before. There was a chance that he had never ridden a horse before.

It was his first horse!

Riaz grew excited thinking that he wouldn't have to walk alongside his master any longer. Finally, he would have a taste of more refined travel methods.

'Such a majestic steed....' Riaz silently admired Adel.

Eventually, Aldean returned with the black horse, Moonshine, and the master and disciple stood together with their horses.

"Two people will meet us soon. Hide your features and try not to grab any attention." Aldean instructed.

"Is that really necessary?" asked Riaz.

"It's a simple precaution," explained Aldean, crossing his arms. "Brat, your reckless actions have drawn too many eyes towards us."

Riaz looked away and found that he had nothing to retort with. Did he perhaps cause more trouble than he initially thought?

He couldn't help feeling a bit bad about it as he tightly pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and lowered his face.

Two minutes passed.

Suddenly, Riaz felt the hairs on his neck rise. His bearing collapsed and his gut told him that something was amiss.

"They're here." Aldean briefly acknowledged and uncrossed his arms. His gaze aimed behind Riaz.

"Ah." Riaz threw a glance over his shoulder and discovered that two hooded figures, one shorter than the other, had arrived behind him without so much as a hint at their presence.

His hand reached for the hilt of his sword, ready to fight, but Aldean tapped him on the arm. "Relax, they're not enemies... for now."

"Oh my, dear customer, have you been well?" asked the taller of the two hooded figures jovially, the voice clearly belonging to a man.

Aldean scoffed, "When has the guild grown so generous to send someone like you for the job? This should be below your pay grade, no?"

The man shrugged, "Why, oh why indeed?"

Aldean furrowed his eyebrows, "Cut the crap, Riverghost."

The man laughed and pulled back his hood.

Riaz slightly raised his eyes to see, but the man called Riverghost unfortunately hid his face behind a ghost mask. Dark-green hair reached down to his shoulders.

"I am merely here to play second fiddle." He pointed out the other hooded person. "It's this little one who will be taking on the job."

Both Aldean and Riaz turned their attention to the person beside the masked man.

Riverghost spoke, "Go on, Number Three, why don't you greet the customer?"

"..." The other remained silent.

Aldean commented, "Looks like this one acts their part and keeps their mouth shut, unlike a certain someone."

"Ugh... you're hurting my feelings!" bemoaned Riverghost in jest, his murderous eyes laughing disdainfully. "I am just happy to meet an old friend."

Aldean snorted, too lazy to correct him.

"How many years have it been since I tried to kill you?" Riverghost gave an exaggerated sigh. "It's been too long..."

The air around Riverghost changed completely, the carefree laughter replaced by a dense aura of death.

Gradually, their part of the stables began to dim down with traces of black smoke swimming through the air.

"You're the only one that has ever gotten away." His eyes narrowed and stared deeply into Aldean's.

The latter mocked Riverghost with his eyes and spoke in a droning tone, "Care to finish the job then?"

The tension rose and Riaz slowly tightened the grip on his sword. He could feel his chest tighten while ice-cold drops of sweat formed on his temple.

"..." The one called Number Three also remained on stand-by, showing no sudden movements.

Just when it seemed the mood was about to boil, Riverghost began to laugh once more.

"Haha, jokes! There is no way I'd hurt a dear customer. It's just a joke." His eyes looked like two crescent moons as he lifted and showed the palms of his hands.

Riverghost's aura immediately dissipated with the break in tension and the wisps of black smoke, now gone, could be chalked up to a vivid imagination.

From the beginning to end, Aldean had remained carefree and finally even Riaz could find it in his heart to relax, albeit slightly.

'Just what is going on? Did teacher really hire these two odd people? For what exactly?' Riaz wondered.

Seeing as Aldean wasn't going to play along with Riverghost's theatrics, the latter expressed his disappointment.

"Alright alright, since you're no fun, let us get down to business then."

Riverghost raised up three fingers and reported, "There are at least three parties currently keeping tabs on you; that's accounting for the dregs only."

He lowered one finger and continued, "Two seem somewhat capable, making a good effort to stay hidden."

Aldean cocked his head and raised an eyebrow.

"Be that as it is, are you sure this kid is up to snuff then?" he asked.

Riverghost spoke in a firm tone when he re-assured, "Number Three is capable enough. With the right preparation, it wouldn't be difficult for them to kill even an early-stage Master."

"Such boastfulness, are you certain I can take your word for it?" asked Aldean.

It wasn't clear whether he was actually doubtful or just trying get on Riverghost's nerves.

Riverghost replied, "If I can't stake my word on it, then how about my reputation instead?"

He repeated, "Number Three can do the job. What are you so worried about? I will be there in case anything unexpected happens."

Aldean said, "Fine, I want them all dead then."

Riverghost laughed once again, "Good, that's what you paid for after all."

Riaz shuddered. These two were obviously hired killers. He couldn't wrap his head around the many questions he had and now was not the time to ask any of them.

He took a look at Number Three and found the person to be staring at him.

It was bright enough, so not that difficult to see. While the person seemed to wear a mask like the Riverghost, it didn't hide the eyes.

Naturally, that was the feature he was drawn towards. They locked eyes and Riaz had to admit that he had an odd feeling about it.

The other had grey eyes that seemed quite still, almost lifeless. The person could just be spacing out, but no, Riaz was sure Number Three was staring at him.

'What's their deal?' he thought.

Regardless, the matter was quickly settled between Aldean and Riverghost. They would ride south and draw their pursuers out into the open.

If what Riaz surmised was true, then that would be the time when the life of those curious parties would meet an end.

All they had to do was leave, while the two killers took care of the deed.