Chapter 3: Dominion and Discipline
Takeo’s gaze was fixed on the slim figure standing at the center of the village. There was something about him—something powerful, commanding, and untouchable. He didn’t need to say a word; his very presence told the story. This man, whoever he was, considered himself above everyone here. Not out of arrogance, but because he knew it as fact.
Takeo could feel it, like a weight pressing down on the air around him. This was no ordinary person.
The figure spoke, his voice calm yet authoritative, cutting through the murmur of the crowd. “My name is Domyric, and I represent the Council of Asedral.”
Ah, the Council. Takeo knew of them—every city in Primo had its own Council. Asedral, with its reputation for merging intelligence and power, was ruled by a Council of seven. Unlike some cities, where brute strength was enough to secure a seat, Asedral valued a blend of wisdom and authority. And judging from the way Domyric stood, exuding unshakable confidence, it was clear why he was chosen. The words rippled through the gathering, spreading like wildfire. The Council. Every city in Primo had its own Council, each governing the surrounding regions with their own laws and customs. Asedral, a city known for its balance of wisdom and power, had chosen to merge both qualities into its Council of Seven. And this man—Domyric—was clearly no stranger to either.
Domyric’s voice was even, almost emotionless, yet it cut through the crowd like a rapier. “The Council of Asedral has issued new mandates for all villages under its rule. This includes Aselite.” He paused briefly, letting his words settle over the listeners. “The following declarations must be observed without exception:
1. There will be no fighting within city limits. Any combat must take place outside of city areas.
2. Combatants are forbidden from engaging Non-Combatants unless the Non-Combatant initiates the fight.
Domyric paused, letting the weight of his words settle on the crowd. “Asedrians who fail to comply will be punished and if necessary, executed.” He spoke as if it was a normal occurence.
“Furthermore,” he added, “the Council welcomes any challengers who oppose our authority. Anyone who defeats me will take my place on the Council.” His eyes scanned the crowd, and for a brief second, they passed over Takeo, though he gave no indication he had noticed him. “I am a man of honour, and I will always honour my word. Challenge me, if you wish—but be prepared to stake your life.”
Domyric spoke calmly, without bravado or menace. The challenge hung in the air, daring anyone to step forward. There was no need for either—his confidence was absolute, and it came not from arrogance but from certainty. Takeo could feel it, as could everyone else present.
Takeo breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Domyric wasn’t a foe today, but he wasn’t exactly a friend either. He was an enforcer, a man whose duty was to uphold the Council’s law and will through any means necessary.
From the crowd, a voice rang out, strong and bold. “I never back down from a challenge. Ruferous will gladly accept!” A tall, muscular man stepped forward, chest puffed out, clearly eager to prove his worth. Ruferous, Takeo thought, nodding slightly. Ah, right. I thought his name was Rufus.
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This would be interesting. Takeo was curious to see Domyric’s abilities—after all, there was always the tiny bit of a slight chance he might have to face one of the Council members in the future. Better to know what kind of gap lay between them. Furthermore, Ruferous appeared
Domyric’s eyes turned to Ruferous, cold and unflinching. “Are you prepared to stake your life on this challenge, Ruferous?”
That single sentence was enough to drain the confidence from Ruferous’s face. The killing intent in Domyric’s words was unmistakable, like a blade pressing against the skin.
“Well… on second thought,” Ruferous stammered, stepping back nervously. “If I get injured here, my wife would be upset…” His nervous laughter filled the air, but it was hollow, a feeble attempt to save face. Not that his face needed any saving since it was beyond help.
Takeo smirked inwardly. That was enough to shut him down. Takeo couldn’t help but felt a little disappointed. Here he was hoping for a good fight. Takeo glanced over to Nav, knowing he was also going to be dissapointed.
But then, faster than Takeo could react, a blur of motion cut through the air. An unknown assailant, moving at high speed, rushed at Domyric. Even Takeo could barely register what was happening. The attacker was so quick, he couldn’t even make out the weapon in his hand. Perhaps, his gift had something to do with agility as Takeo could slightly sense some flow coming from the attacker.
And yet, Domyric didn’t move.
The sound of steel rang out “zii-iiing” and in the blink of an eye, the unknown attacker was no more. A mist of blood hung in the air, slowly descending on the crowd. Some of it landed on white garments, staining them with a shade of crimson red. It almost looked like a twisted, macabre flower blossom. Takeo couldn’t even see Domyric move but now he was walking to the city centre.
Right then, Takeo could see Domyric clearly. He was a slim man, but there was something about his presence that made him feel much larger than he appeared. His dark, wide-brimmed vega hat cast a shadow over his sharp features while covering his curly gold hair, giving him an air of quiet authority. He wore a crisp, long white shirt, tailored to perfection, paired with brown leather pants and black boots that moved with ease as he walked, hinting at his readiness for action.
Takeo’s gaze was drawn to the rapier hanging at Domyric’s side. The weapon, elegant and deadly, was partially concealed beneath a short black coat. Embroidered in intricate gold lettering along the hem of the coat were the words: "Domyric" with bolder words at the back “Asedral Council, Honour”. The coat, though simple, exuded the Council’s authority—a symbol of the power he wielded both in name and in skill.
Domyric continued walking, not sparing a glance at the fallen assailant. His tone was as calm as ever. “A man with no honor should never let his name shine. Perish and scatter.”
The crowd stood in stunned silence, too shocked to process what they had just witnessed. There were no screams, no shouts—only awe. It was a display of strength, but none of them had actually seen what went down.
“Takeo…” Nav’s voice came from beside him, shaky with excitement. “That was a sign. He’s telling us folks not to mess with him.”
Takeo replied “And that look in your eyes is telling me you want to mess with him.”
Nav grinned, clearly in awe. Despite the casual tone, there was something gleaming in Nav’s eyes—he was impressed, maybe even inspired. Takeo, however, was less enthusiastic. He had always believed in never underestimating anyone, no matter how harmless they might seem.
Maybe that was because of how he was raised. Gaoru, the village chief, had brought him up after his parents died in the city calamity, nearly fifty years ago. Takeo didn’t know much about his parents—they had fought and perished in that chaos—but Gaoru had always been there, silently guiding him. They didn’t speak often, but there was an unspoken bond. Gaoru was the closest thing to family that he had left.
Still, seeing Domyric in action made Takeo think. This man was powerful, perhaps more powerful than anyone he had ever seen. And in this tournament, where the unexpected could happen at any moment, Takeo knew one thing for sure—he needed to be prepared for anything.
Just then, there was an unexpected *DING* which sounded throughout the village.