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The Warlord
Chapter 53: It's Just Tradition

Chapter 53: It's Just Tradition

Kira watched as Guinevere fought against the Wind-raptor. The giant hawk summoned small tornados. Guinevere had been different lately; she was always hard to read giving off a cold exterior, but she seemed to be holding back some anger lately. She hadn’t killed the Warlord she knew that Guinevere refused to say what had happened or what she’d seen. She’d only talked to the Lunaren Princess and the two refused to talk.

Kira scowled at Guinevere. The woman was as beautiful as freshly fallen snow and just as cold. “Hopefully someone will put some tracks in that snow and mar it up,” she muttered.

Regald was trying to draw the monster’s aggro, but Guinevere was being too aggressive again. Her job was to be a damage dealer which she did fine, but she didn’t know how to strike and retreat. Once she was engaged Guinevere never fell back and was able to counter almost every attack that came her way.

The most annoying part Kira found was that Guinevere was good at it. She didn’t fall back and let Regald tank because she didn’t need him to tank for her. She didn’t need to switch out with Edrick to deal damage and regain her resources and just cycled through her abilities never dropping to zero in all her fights. The truth was Guinevere was so good at her job that she either eliminated the need for them or made it hard for their role in the party. Haldros wasn’t able to drop his fireballs since Guinevere was so close to the enemy so had to settle for weaker attacks that wouldn’t risk hitting her.

Sometimes Guinevere had to step in as a tank, blocking attacks that would have hit her other teammates. Her ability to parry, block or counter almost every attack pissed off Regald since it just made him stand back uselessly. Those times when Guinevere had to protect them were the only times she ever slowed down in her attack against her opponent.

“Just remember the mission,” Kira told herself for what felt like the thousandth time. “This will all be over soon.”

----

“Why have you come here alone, Warlord?” Remara asked.

“I am here on a quest from Kelesa,” I said sitting on a stone bench opposite her and the brazier. “As for why I’m alone, I don’t need others.”

“You are the Warlord, it is your nature to lead armies,” she said.

“You’d do best to not compare me to the Warlords from your histories,” I said. “I’m going to be doing a lot of things differently.”

“Doing things differently is something I have come to despise,” she spat. “What did you see when you came here.”

“I saw a city,” I said shrugging. “A large population that seemed willing to attack me instantly if you hadn’t saved them.”

“Don’t you mean saved you?” she asked one corner of her lip turning up.

I leaned forward and smiled a predatory grin. “No.”

“What you saw was civilization,” Remara said her face twisted with anger for a moment. “We are the myrmidon; we are to stand against the relentless need the other races have to expand and alter the land in the pursuit of some unobtainable goal. We live in the wilds because they are wild and it makes us strong, to bring civilization to such a place is a sin against our very nature.”

“Civilization does have its benefits,” I said. “Your clan outnumbers the Bear and Wolf combined four to one.”

“Our warriors are not what they once were,” Remara said shaking her head. “The problem with a large population is there simply aren’t enough rank points to go around. Most of our warriors are only in the Mortal Ranks, the elites hoard the use of our dungeons, and the monster spawns.”

“Yes, I did see the quality of a few of your warriors on the way here,” I said remembering the two scouts who had attacked me.

“Did you kill some of my Clan?” Remara asked dangerously.

I didn’t flinch at her words. “I don’t permit people to attack me without repercussions; also they burned up a pair of pants and a shirt and I’m starting to run out of those.”

She laughed. “Good answer, if they were foolish enough to attack someone a higher grade than them and also the Warlord then their loss is of no consequence.”

“Your hero rank,” I said. “Why not do something about the state of your clan yourself?”

“My power is spiritual, I could perhaps kill Astrel but just because I did so would not mean the Clan would follow me,” she explained. “The corruption of this Clan goes far deeper than one man.”

“You want something from me then,” I said. “I came here to conquer you Clan, doing so will make the Wolf Clan and Bear Clan swear allegiance to me. How do my goals align with yours?”

Remara sat in thought.

“I do not wish to see you cutting your way through my Clan, even if many of these weaklings deserve to be culled,” she said. “But there may be another way.”

A thudding sounded on the door before the gates of the temple were slammed open and a tall figure strode into the room.

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“You go too far Remara!” he thundered. The man carried a double-ended spear its edges glowing violet, he wore dark metal bracers and greaves and a breastplate that reminded me of Greek hoplites. The cloak of a spotted big cat was draped over his shoulders he stepped into the circle of firelight and slammed one point of the spear into the ground, purple flames flashed for an instant along the spear’s edges.

“I gave direct orders for the Warlord to be attacked if he entered the city and you let him through our gates!” he shouted.

“Nice to meet you too,” I said not getting up as I scanned who I took to be the Dragon Clan’s chief.

Astrel, the Dragon King, Gifted- humanoid/myrmidon (dragon), Hero, Rank: 467

Astrel turned to me and looked me over, scanning me his lips turning up in a disdainful smile. “Is this the Warlord everyone is so afraid of? He’s big I’ll grant you, but I have a dozen warriors twice his rank.”

“I think I meet one of those warriors,” I said with a nod leaning back on the bench against a pillar. “I believe his name was Asmodrin.”

“You saw my brother?” Astrel asked stiffening.

“I ripped his throat out with my teeth,” I said. That wasn’t the full story of course but better to say as little as possible and let others come to the conclusions I wanted.

“You think you can admit to my brother’s murder and walk from this place unscathed?” Astrel asked, leveling his spear at me.

“There is no murder in battle,” I said leaning forward the tip of his spear only a few inches from my head. “Only the dead and the victorious. And I don’t plan on leaving here.”

“Be mindful of your next words,” Astrel snarled.

“Remara,” I said turning to the priestess who had been silent as she watched the two of us. “How do your people select a new warrior.”

“Our leaders are either selected by an assembly of the Clans warriors or through trial by combat by challenging the current leader of the Clan,” Remara said.

“Excellent,” I said. “I challenge you to duel Astrel.”

“We no longer keep with those old traditions,” Astrel said lowering his spear. “I am not some common chief, I am a king.”

“I wonder how the rest of the clan would react to hearing you deny one of our most sacred rights,” Remara said. “The right of challenge is core to our beliefs. Your grandfather and father have changed many things in this Clan but the rule of the Strong is the core tenant of our goddess.”

“Are you really going to end our stalemate now and pick his side?” Astrel asked.

“I have watched you desecrate our sacred places, seen your warriors violate the priestess under my care,” Remara said her voice rising with each word and a palpable power rising in the air. “You have twisted the very nature of what it is to be myrmidon and violated sacred laws and traditions in your blind pursuit of power. If you do not accept this challenge, I will do what I should have done decades past and reduce this Clan to ashes rather than let it morph into this abomination you have conceived.”

Astrel took a step back. He glared at her and me, I could see more warriors and women in some sort of sacred garb whom I took to be other priestesses. They all stared waiting for his next words.

“Very well then, noon tomorrow we shall duel before the temple,” Astrel said. “I shall reduce you to ashes.”

“Looking forward to it,” I agreed with a nod.

When he was gone, Remara turned to me. “I hope you know what you are doing. I have been saving that option for years now, I won’t be able to use it again.”

“It won’t be the first time I had to kill someone massively more powerful than me in a duel to the death,” I said with a shrug. I feigned nonchalance but I wasn’t sure if I could beat him either, his brother had almost killed me, and I’d had help then. Still, I’d grown in power and skill since then and I refused to shy away from reaching for the impossible.

“Is there anything you need before tomorrow?” Remara asked. “The priestess of the temple will gladly attend to anything you desire.”

“I’ve got two quests you might be able to help me with, I need to defeat the eight powers of the forest, The Bandit King was one, and so was the Storm Pheonix and the Bear Clan’s sacred animal, both beast lords of the forest. The three myrmidon clans make up the other three. What can you tell me about the last two? I was also told your clan had the Helm of Ares which I require to finish my second quest.”

Remara shook her head sadly. “The Hell Dragon is the creature my Clan reveres, and it is certainly one of the eight powers of this forest although I fear it far beyond you to defeat as you are. Not even me and Astrel working together could survive its breath attack. As for the Helm, it is lost as is the other beast lord I know of.”

“Lost how?” I asked.

“They are beneath us,” Remara answered.

I shrugged. “I’ve got an ability to move dirt shouldn’t be a problem.”

Again, Remara shook her head. “You misunderstand they are not locked away in some tomb or crypt. During Astrel’s father’s reign, he went to war with the Stag Clan. They proved a match for him. However, in desperation, he took the Helm of Ares into battle although such a thing is forbidden to us. It was not enough, the sacred animal of the Stag Clan fought alongside them. They would have routed and destroyed our army if Astrel hadn’t sacrificed his own father. He used an artifact from our armory to open a chasm beneath his father who was locked in battle with the Cursed-Horn Stag. They fell miles deep before it closed.”

“So, they’re really far down there,” I said. “I sense there is something besides that though that prevented you from retrieving the helm.”

“We call this place the Ancient Forest, the outsiders call it the Cursed Forest,” Remara said. “This is not its true name; in the old days, it was called the Forest of the Ancients. They were an ancient sect that called themselves the Order of the Magi, they shunned the use of abilities using only spells and enchantments. They empowered their bodies to the levels of Exarch and Heroes with alchemy and by enchanting their own flesh with spells. You will find little remnant of them on the surface today, they were all heretics and so the gods had them wiped out. The only place that remains of their culture is the caverns deep below, they are warded with old magic none today understand. While down in those caves you don’t have access to the system, which means no way to get rank points, no way to activate abilities that aren’t passive. It’s a man-made dungeon and a death trap, none who go there return.”

“That’s quite the information,” I said sitting back and thinking. “I need to complete these quests, but I’ll hold off on trying to get to the helm for now, I don’t even know if the stag would qualify as one of the things I need to kill if its way down there, and if still alive.”

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Remara asked.

“I just need a spot to rest,” I said. “I need to get in the right headspace and make sure all my gear is in order.”

“You can remain here then,” Remara said standing. “Before you go you should know that Astrel sent his army away several days ago, he made an alliance with an army beseeching the Bandit King’s fortress. I don’t know all the details, but it is likely an alliance against you. If your army is at that castle they may be destroyed before you come back.”

“Those not strong enough to exist on their own don’t deserve to survive,” I said shrugging. “I’ve done what I can to strengthen those under my Dominion. If they cannot last until I return, then they weren’t worth the spot they took up in my control limit.”

Remara nodded at my statement. “I shall see to it that no one disturbs you until tomorrow.”