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B.2 Chapter 39: Storm's Calm

Krik felt the wind brush through his bald scalp, and his hand moved to scratch at the ax head still buried in his skull.

“Krik!” one orc shouted out from behind. “How much longer until we catch up to those bastards?”

“Patience! We must be careful so they won’t spot us!” Krik shouted back, feeling how his chest burned with pain as he spoke. He could still feel the hammer strike from that asshole back in the clearing. It was a miracle he survived the Power Strike, which was a testament to his hatred towards the humans who had burned their encampment and island to ashes.

Blood-Irk had sent the orcs out to find the bastards responsible and bring their heads back. It would’ve been impossible without the help of their tribe’s shaman, who used the blood from a dagger that had stabbed one human to find out where he was. Krik looked down at the strange runic compass, its red-tinted needle pointing straight ahead. According to the shaman, the needle would continuously point toward the human whose blood tainted it. The magic would only last for twelve hours, but it would be enough for Krik and his crew to figure out where the human bastards were hiding out.

He squinted through the fog ahead, hoping the compass didn’t lie about the human’s location. Krik gently put a hand to his hurting chest, which was partially healed by the same shaman who had given him the compass. He sincerely hoped the hammer-wielding bastard was with that human, for Krik had unfinished business with him. Krik turned to his crew, which comprised several orcs and a couple of armored goblins.

‘With this, we’ll be able to kill those bastards, especially that human, Haggard.’

Krik shifted back to the oncoming waves, watching as their longship easily broke the waves. Once their mission was done, the orcs would return to their original encampment far east of Valenfrost, near the Abyssal Sea. It wasn’t as fruitful nor as big as the island they were on previously, but it would do until they regained strength. Blood-Irk will have a plan then. He always had a plan.

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Seamus tried his best to swallow the rest of his meal, the tasteless biscuit making his throat drier than the Arenian desert. He quickly took a quick swig from his waterskin, which was still filled with Dahlia’s tea. Seamus resisted the urge to gag as he washed down the biscuit with the horcus tea.

“Are you choking?” James suddenly asked, the blond man currently nibbling on his biscuit as he watched Seamus cough and slightly gag.

Seamus punched his chest as he forced a swallow, his food finally going down as he regained his breath.

“I’m alright… I’m alright…” He managed out in a cough, taking another swig from his waterskin once more as he washed down the rest of his late breakfast.

Both men were resting by the mainmast, watching crew members work their way around the ship, adjusting sails and eating lunch as they moved.

“How do they even eat this?” Seamus muttered, watching a crewmate bite out of one biscuit as if it were an apple.

“Easy. They don’t scarf down the whole thing in one try,” James joked as he took a small bite out of his biscuit.

Seamus couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “You can’t blame me for being hungry. I ran half an island, you know! Plus, I haven’t eaten since I’ve been asleep.” He grabbed another of the biscuits he had by his side. He took a page from James’ book, nibbling on the biscuit this time.

“Can I ask you about what happened back there? Back on the island,” James suddenly asked, washing down his food with his waterskin.

Seamus frowned a little, his eyes focusing on the biscuit-shaped rock in his hand. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything that you’re willing to tell me.” James glanced back at Seamus. “If you don’t want to detail anything, that’s fine.” He assured the young man.

“No, it’s fine, it’s just… It’s a very long story,” Seamus explained. James smiled a bit.

“I’m fine with that. We have time.”

“All right then. I guess I should start back when we got separated.” Seamus rested his head against the wooden mast, closing his eyes as he thought back to the clearing.

Seamus recapped the events that had transpired after Lilith had inadvertently saved them all, explaining to James how she had protected and saved Seamus that day. He explained how Miles had saved the imprisoned gnome they had seen at Aldren earlier that day and how Lowe had convinced them to go after the vault.

“So you went for an artifact? Did you find it?” James asked out of curiosity.

“We did, but it wasn’t what I had expected.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s complicated.” Seamus sighed, remembering the cat statue and what Lowe had hinted at.

‘An artifact that can decide the fate of men…’

Seamus still wasn’t sure if Lowe was telling the truth or was growing senile.

‘Let’s hope for the former.’

“What else did you guys find in the vault?” James asked, his question cutting through the younger man’s thoughts.

Seamus suddenly remembered that he was in the middle of a story, his head turning to James as he responded.

“There was a lot more in there than I had initially thought. Weapons, bits of armor, and even some works of art,” Seamus detailed. “But it’s all buried now,” he added in a mutter.

“Buried?”

“Well, Miles had devised a plan of action because orcs were trying to get in. He ended up blowing half the vault to hel, nearly caving in the place,” Seamus explained, recalling the moment he had seen Miles light up his ignitor, which had lit up a small oil trail that led to the barrels by the doors. Any memory after that was fuzzy; the only thing clear to Seamus was that they had to get out of there before the vault caved in. He could only remember running after that.

“To be fair, those barrels were filled to the brim with oil,” Miles suddenly called out from across the deck. “I’m hardly to blame for miscalculating their volatility.”

Seamus turned to the cross-legged ex-follower, whose mask was returned to its former eggshell white. “You’re still here? I thought you had left with the other mercenaries.”

“I wanted to stay, see things out,” Miles responded, his grinning head resting on a fist. “If nothing interests me today, I’ll return to Vindis.”

“You’re wasting your time,” Seamus muttered in response.

As terrifying as the Lumen Knights were, Seamus knew better than to assume they would try anything in Valenfrost. He knew about the Outsider Wars, how the Lumen Kingdom had made a truce with the clans of Valenfrost for fear of another war breaking out. If anything were to happen to Yorktown, all of Valenfrost would cry out for war. At least, if the other clans found out. Seamus’ chest then tightened at those thoughts. If the other clans found out.

‘They wouldn’t try anything. Would they?’

Seamus gulped, his fear of the knights soon igniting in his chest.

“You alright?” James suddenly asked, gently nudging Seamus’ shoulder.

“I’m fine. It’s just seasickness,” Seamus lied, looking down at his biscuit. He had lost his appetite now, his stomach tying itself into knots as his thoughts ran wild with possibilities of today. It certainly didn’t help that Miles’ beady eyes were looking at him with interest.

“I got an island in sight! Ship departing from its port,” a crewmate suddenly shouted out, catching everyone’s attention.

‘Ship departing port?’

Seamus turned to watch Helen slowly move up to the ship’s bow, her feet careful not to trip in her shackles. She looked out into the distance, her blue eyes squinting out into the mist, which had obscured the horizon for the last few hours. After some time, Helen returned to the rest of the ship, her hands signaling to Dimitri.

“That’s Yorktown. It looks like the ship departing is one of those royal ships. I guess those knights want to meet us halfway,” Helen spoke out, her feet moving to the nearby entrance that led below the deck. “My job is already done here as a navigator,” she proclaimed, a small grin on her lips. “Seamus, come and help me out of these shackles. My part of the deal is done.” Helen gestured towards the steps before walking down them herself.

Seamus sighed, deciding to push his paranoia down as he stood up. He was being a paranoid fool for believing that the knights would do something so heinous.

Right?

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Felix peeked from his hiding spot behind the burnt building, watching as the Lumen soldiers and green tunics walked through the town, gathering the townspeople as they called for a meeting in the town hall. Felix knew better as he slinked back into the shadows of the alleyway. His feet took him away from the sight of the soldiers, who gathered men and women of the town. He headed to the training center, where the trainees were still learning from Harald. It would only be a matter of time before the soldiers reached the training center and coerced the class into coming with them.

Felix snuck past some more soldiers, hoping that most of the townsfolk would realize what was happening before the soldiers gathered them all in one spot.

‘I just hope Nora won’t be a damn idiot and assist the bastards.’

He slipped into another alleyway unnoticed. Felix made his way through Yorktown, carefully sneaking past soldiers and green tunics alike. Before long, the guardsman found his way to the edge of town, his feet moving quickly as he headed toward the training center. The guardsman felt his hood push back from a chilly breeze, exposing his sweat-dampened hair as he sprinted his way. Soon enough, Felix could see the distant training center where Harald was still teaching his students the basics of defense.

“Harald!” Felix called out, his run slowing as he reached the class of guardsmen in training. The old veteran turned around to Felix, his eyebrow raised in confusion. “Those Lumen bastards are gathering everyone in the town center for a meeting.”

“A meeting?” One trainee asked, crossing his arms as he looked at Felix. The other trainees murmured a mix of responses, all confused about why Felix was worried. Harald, however, seemed to have understood why the guardsman was so worried.

“Where are the knights?” Harald asked, stepping towards Felix with a furrowed brow.

“They left. Went off on their ship,” Felix managed out in a breath. He was still trying to recover from the toll on his lungs and legs from running across town. “They’re heading towards the Frostbite. James’ ship.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“James is back?” One trainee, Kate, asked out of surprise.

Felix waved her off. “We can focus on that later. Now we have to deal with the soldiers here.”

The trainees all exchanged confused looks, unsure of what Felix was saying.

“Wait, the soldiers?”

“You mean the ones who’ve been living here the last few days?”

“I thought they were friendly?”

Their voices overlapped, apparent confusion among them as they spoke and argued.

“Quiet!” Harald suddenly called out, shutting up all the young trainees. The veteran appeared deep in thought, his eyes closed as he scratched his graying stubble. Felix could hear him muttering something under his breath but couldn’t make out what he was saying.

After some awkward silence, Harald finally opened his eyes, his head turning to the trainees.

“As of now, you are all guardsmen,” he suddenly proclaimed. Hushed muttering sounded out from the trainees, more confusion in the air.

“What is happening?” One trainee suddenly spoke out, her voice quieting everyone else’s. She moved through the crowd before stepping out. It was Kate Rowan, one of the more promising recruits in Harald’s class. Felix remembered her father, Michael Rowan, who had died with many of the town’s guardsmen on that fateful night days ago. He was one of the men who signed up to the guardsmen after watching James Holter fight and lose to Deimos.

The trainees mumbled their agreements with Kate, their eyes focusing on Felix expectantly, awaiting an explanation from the guard. Felix hesitated, unsure of what to say to them.

Before he could come up with an answer, Harald stepped up.

“What’s happening is that the Lumen Knights want to clean us out. Burn Yorktown down like the marauders tried to do. We’re not sure why, but we will not let that happen,” the veteran explained. All the trainees looked hesitant, and some even looked outright terrified. Still, none of them protested, for this was the reason they had joined the town guard in the first place.

“Sir,” another guardsman spoke, who Felix recognized as Dirk, the youngest of the class. “If we’re really going to go against these soldiers, do we at least have some kind of plan?”

‘A plan.’

Felix pondered the words, his mind searching for anything related to tactics. However, the only thing he could think of was a particular plan James had devised weeks ago when the marauders had raided Yorktown.

‘What did he call it? Guerilla tactics?’

It sounded like a good plan back when James explained it, with Harald backing it up. Unfortunately, it had all gone to hel so quickly that Felix had no time to enact his part of the plan. The soldiers were currently converging in the town, completely oblivious to its layout and alleyways. If Felix and his men moved swiftly, they could seize the advantage over them.

‘It would mean death for some,’ Felix grimly thought. ‘Even with our numbers.’

He knew damn well that no plan ever worked smoothly and that, at the end of the day, people would die on both sides. Felix recalled the grisly moment he had bashed a marauder’s head against the ground, his first actual kill. It still haunted him, even though he had no other choice.

Felix raised his sights to the guardsmen in training, who were all still staring at him, expecting a plan from the archer.

“I have a plan in mind,” he started, his voice and demeanor confident despite his nerve-racking thoughts. “Before we can enact it, however, we need to get you all geared up.”

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Gryff watched the distant figure of Frostbite approach slowly, its black sails becoming visible through the fog. The Lumen Knight sighed as he looked off the railing of Luna, which was currently moving through the black waters, albeit at a snail’s pace. They were en route to meet Frostbite halfway so that Gryff could express his ‘congratulations’ to James and his friends for successfully completing their quest.

Hopefully, James wouldn’t have to put up much of a fight. Even if he and his friends resisted, Gryff’s ship had its crew of soldiers, all of whom were moving to steer the ship straight at the ex-marauder ship in the distance. Hugo was nearby, his halberd in hand, as he watched the oncoming ship grow closer. Gryff looked back at Yorktown, where his soldiers would gather up the townsfolk and soon wipe them out. He had some worries about the guardsman and that veteran who was instructing the new trainees. Still, he decided that would be a later problem. If his men couldn’t take them out before Gryff was done with James, then the cryomancer would have to finish the job for them.

Gryff frowned a little as he turned back to the incoming ship Frostbite. It would only be a matter of time before their ships met.

‘I hope he does put up a fight. Delphine knows that I’ve been wanting a good scuffle for ages.’

Gryff rarely ever had to go all out, so he sincerely hoped this James fellow and shaman Dahlia would put up a good fight.

“Ah… but that’s too much to ask for, right?” He chuckled lightly. Maybe after all this was over, he would hunt down that Red Death of the North. Maybe he would put up an actual fight compared to the many marauders Gryff had already slaughtered all those years ago. Gryff turned to Hugo, realizing his friend most likely felt the same. Hugo had always voiced his frustrations on being bored during their trips, with no one else to fight but weaklings.

“Soon, my friend,” Gryff muttered, almost as if he could hear the brutish man’s introspections. He had seen Hugo fight before and had watched the man take on an ogre all by his lonesome. It would only be natural that Hugo would want a challenge.

“Sir, a moment of your time,” one soldier suddenly caught Gryff’s attention.

“Yes?” Gryff asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched the soldier nervously fiddle with his sword’s pommel.

“I want to know your plans with the prisoner below,” the soldier spoke quickly, not wasting his breath on pointless apologies or filler. Gryff raised his eyebrow in confusion, unsure what ‘prisoner’ the soldier was talking about. The soldier seemed to have realized the knight’s confusion and spoke once more to clarify, “The bandit, sir. The one we captured days ago?”

“Ah, yes! Bron, was it not? The elf we interrogated. I have forgotten about the little guy,” Gryff chuckled, remembering the terrified knife-ear. Bron was the one who had led them to Yorktown, after all. “He’s still alive? I had thought we killed him ages ago?”

“No sir, he’s still locked up below. Would you like to have us kill him now?”

Gryff pondered the bandit’s life for a moment. He had almost immediately waved his hand at the soldier, ordering for the elf below to have his throat cut and thrown overboard. He instead held his tongue, realizing that it wouldn’t be the best look for Gryff if James and the rest of his crew watched the knight dump a corpse into the sea.

“We can kill him later,” Gryff decided. “No time to do the deed, anyway. We’re already coming up to the other ship,” he pointed out, the black sails of Frostbite growing even closer to where Luna sat in the waters.

“Get the men ready to board the ship,” Gryff ordered, waving the soldier away as he walked up to the bow of the ship, where Hugo stood.

“How is this going to go?” The other man asked, his red eyes looking down at Gryff with an expectant look.

“Like usual,” Gryff shrugged. “Quickly and cleanly. I’ll take care of the main deck, and you take care of whatever is below. Maybe even find a challenge down there.”

“I doubt it,” Hugo murmured, causing Gryff to look at his friend with raised eyebrows.

“Hugo Ardel, not wanting to kill the first thing in sight? Who is this imposter, and what have they done with my friend?” Gryff joked as he chuckled.

Hugo shook his head in amusement, his deep laugh befitting a man his size. “Perhaps I’m growing tired of battle. It has been so long since I had felt the genuine thrill of a fight.”

“You speak for both of us, brother,” Gryff answered in a low mutter, watching Frostbite grow closer.

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James watched as the royal ship slowly approached Frostbite’s flank, the armored soldiers onboard visibly moving around as they prepared to board. Despite the frigid cold of Valenfrost, James could feel cold beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His fist clenched onto the satchel Gryff had given him days ago, the one containing the crystals of the abominations James and Dahlia had encountered back on the two islands.

“Nervous?” Dahlia asked, the shaman by his side as they both watched the royal ship near Frostbite’s port, a boarding bridge visible on their side. Miles and the rest of the crew watched the ship as it grew closer, the ex-follower strangely silent during all of this.

“Just a little,” James lied to the shaman with a confident smile, hoping she wouldn’t catch onto it. Dahlia smiled back at James, her lips faltering with what looked like hesitation.

‘I guess she’s feeling the same, huh?’

‘I don’t blame her. Lumen Knights tend to kill with little reason,’ Faust’s words echoed throughout James’ mind.

‘I seem to remember a certain Centurion that killed a knight who was willing to let him live,’ James shot back, recalling when both of them had experienced Faust’s memory of killing Leonard Kord.

‘That was… It was something I did on instinct.’ Faust responded.

‘Instinct? You drove a sword through his fucking throat and hammered it home. That’s intent, not instinct,’ James mentally replied with veiled hostility.

‘James, when your blood is on the line, you change into a completely different person. The haze of bloodlust clouds your judgment, and you do things you come to regret.’

Faust’s words rang through James’ head, whose own thoughts returned to when he had fought Deimos. He could still remember how his blood ran down his forehead and lips, the taste of copper soon turning sweet. He remembered how he had grinned, the pain in his body evaporating as if it had never been there. In some ways, it was similar to what he had felt during Faust’s memory.

James recalled that day. The urge of wanting to kill Deimos, to drive his short sword into the marauder’s chest. He wasn’t sure if it was himself in control or something deeper. Something primal.

‘Adrenaline is one hell of a drug.’

Before he could contemplate further, the royal ship finally docked at Frostbite’s port. They attached the boarding bridge to both decks, and the Lumen Knights soon moved onto Frostbite with their companions. James watched as Gryff walked across the boarding bridge, his hands behind his back as his huge companion followed him. A group of half-armored soldiers came across the bridge, around seven following the behemoth. James looked at the group of men, confusion and paranoia settling in his stomach as he watched them examine the deck’s occupants.

“You got yourself a crew, I see,” Gryff muttered aloud, his hand moving to sweep his black hair back. James turned back to the Lumen Knight, who walked with clasped hands.

“Yeah, we needed their help to get to the islands,” James explained. He watched as Gryff slowly approached him, his boots on the wooden planks being the only sound on deck.

“Where are the two warriors I sent with you?”

“Brant and Finn? They left on another ship heading to Vindis,” James responded.

“Brant was injured badly during our exploration on one island, so Finn wanted to get a healer who could fix his broken arm,” Dahlia explained.

The spellcaster seemed to take in Dahlia’s words before he gave a soft sigh.

“It really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but good for them.” Gryff shrugged off the explanation as if the two men meant nothing to him. Then again, they probably did mean nothing to the knight. “Do you have the samples I asked of you?” the knight asked.

James raised his satchel, shaking a little to signify that the vials full of crystals and flesh were in there. Gryff seemed pleased to hear the sound of vials shaking, his hand reaching out to accept the satchel. James slowly brought the satchel to the Lumen Knight’s extended palm, ready to pass off the samples.

Time came to a sudden crawl. James noticed the behemoth moving past him and Dahlia, followed by some soldiers. He was about to ask what the man was doing but was interrupted by Gryff muttering something under his breath, which broke the young man’s train of thought. Just as James turned to the cryomancer, something unbearably cold glanced by his right cheek. His eyes widened as he watched the shard of ice pass by in slow motion, inches away from his skin.

Time resumed to normal, and James’ overheated body was positioned at a weird angle. It took him a second to realize that Faust had forced his body to dodge.

“What the—?”

‘Watch out!’

As James turned back to face forward, he suddenly found himself staring at the incoming boot of the Lumen Knight. With a swift and forceful kick, it struck him in the chest. Air rushed out of his lungs as he felt his back hit the mast, his ribs emanating pain as he grappled for breath. James looked up to see Dahlia quickly back away from Gryff, who was standing idly as if nothing had happened.

“Impressive. Few people can dodge my spells.” The Lumen Knight grinned as he held up his fingers, which glowed a soft blue.

“Ice Lance.”