problem is, I’m not just an ordinary traitor, but at least a trained one,” said Rein.
After that, Rein looked at the second warrior, who stood closer to the entrance of the tavern.
Although the warrior wore a helmet, it was evident that he was surprised and quite disoriented. Integrated into the armor of this warrior was a miniature arrow-firing device attached to a part of the armor on his forearm. This device resembled a rapid-fire crossbow without the usual stretched bowstring. The device only activated the bolt, housed in a casing, while the arrow’s tension occurred directly within the casing.
The warrior aimed the crossbow at Rein and fired several shots in succession, but Rein simply shielded himself with his hand, and all the arrows stuck in his armor.
“Don’t you know that arrows can’t penetrate Reinwood armor?” Rein asked the warrior in amazement. “You have one yourself. But a sword, if swung hard enough, can!”
After these words, Rein immediately, with a swing, forcefully threw his sword in the direction of the warrior, and then ran towards him. The warrior easily blocked the sword with his hand, and the sword didn’t even leave a dent on his armor. However, Rein, at a high speed, collided with the warrior, knocking him down and pummeling him on the helmet with great force.
While Rein was attempting to break through the helmet of the warrior he was fighting, another warrior emerged from the kitchen area. Without much hesitation, after seeing what was happening, this warrior moved to assist his comrade. But Acres, who had surrendered Rein, seemed to be waiting for this. As soon as the battle unfolded, he instantly positioned himself at the entrance to the kitchen, awaiting whatever might happen. Finally, the moment arrived. As the warrior barely started to move towards Rein, Acres followed behind him. And as soon as the warrior drew his sword to strike Rein, Acres stealthily stabbed a dagger into the gap between the warrior’s helmet and chest plate, precisely entering the warrior’s neck. The enraged warrior turned around and began swinging his sword towards Acres, but being agile enough, Acres evaded and retreated until the warrior, bleeding, simply fell from the loss of strength.
Rein, as if unaware of what was happening behind him, was consumed by rage and anger. When the warrior he was beating stopped offering serious resistance, Rein removed his helmet and continued relentlessly pounding him in this fit of fury. He clearly didn’t want to simply disable the warrior – his goal was the warrior’s death. Rein kept striking and striking, almost pulverizing. The face of the warrior less and less resembled a face, gradually turning into a beaten mess. After some time, Rein finally grew tired and slowed down. Then he saw before him the aftermath of what he had done. It was just an ordinary Raidarian youth who became a warrior. He was only following orders and nothing more. Realizing this, Rein understood what he had become. He felt repulsed by himself once again, contemplating what had happened, envisioning what actions could have prevented this.
Judging by himself, he knew that for a true Raidarian warrior, death was preferable to a life after defeat. He also understood that he couldn’t let any of them go, as they would then tell about him, complicating his life significantly. In the end, he convinced himself that it was unavoidable, and he did what he had to do.
Rein stood up from the fallen young warrior, lowered his head, and stood silently for some time. Then he quietly said, “You fought like true warriors. For a warrior, it’s an honor to die in battle.”
Iziro approached Rein, placed a hand on his shoulder, and said, “My friend, you have serious problems. Luck has once again eluded you! And over time, the problems that will follow you because of this will inevitably become more significant.”
Iziro removed his hand from Rein’s shoulder and walked towards the exit.
“You’re disappointed, aren’t you?” Rein said to him.
Iziro stopped in front of the tavern’s entrance but, after a second, opened the tavern door. He was blinded by the rays of the rising sun. He shielded his eyes from the incoming sunlight with his hand, walked out, then closed the door, gently slamming it shut.
Unexpectedly, a voice rang out, “Is it already dawn?”
It was the old man, Ainom. He nonchalantly walked past the fallen Raidarian warriors, the astonished patrons of the tavern, and its staff, as well as past Rein. Then, he stepped outside, leaving the tavern door open.
“Good morning, Ainom,” Rein whispered to himself.
After that, anger suddenly gripped Rein again. He surveyed the tavern and asked the present with a stern expression, “Where is this Acres? Where did he and his Miri vanish to?”
However, there was nothing but a prolonged silence in response. Rein slightly calmed down and continued, “If anyone happened to see where they went, please inform me!”
Then, breathing heavily, Rein headed towards the exit. The closer he approached, the stronger the rays blinded him. When he stepped outside, he immediately realized that he needed some time alone. He walked towards the slope, which offered a decent view of the sunrise and the lands not yet captured by the Raidarian legions. When he reached the spot, he abruptly collapsed, sitting on the grass and began to breathe rapidly, gazing at the ground. Fear enveloped him. Then, he lifted his gaze slightly higher to look at the scenery from the slope. Small hills, forests, fields, and the village where life was beginning to stir with the dawn were blanketed by the morning rays, reflecting off the ubiquitous morning dew.
Rein, contemplating this wondrous scene, pondered and realized the meaning behind Iziro’s words. After spending some time there, he returned to the tavern’s horse stable. Rein untied his horse, a rather unusual one. Aside from a playful spot on its side, it had strange curly fur and a quite thick mane. Mounting it, Rein headed towards the nearest village located atop the slope.
Approaching the village, he noticed a sign on a wooden post in the form of a wooden plaque with the carved text: “Village of Afles,” followed by the continuation, “Land of His Majesty King of the Last Kingdoms, Great Alex Ford.” The text concluded with the Ford family coat of arms – a winged giant harpy, shielded by a blue shield.
People began to cross Rein’s path, hastily leaving the village. Moving closer to the village center, he saw some commotion. He hurried to avoid drawing too much attention and walked with his horse, holding its reins.
People who were clearly disturbed by some event caught his eye more and more frequently.
“Easy, boy,” suddenly whinnied his horse.
“Hey, calm down, friend. I’m uneasy too. We’ll find out what’s going on here. Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems,” Rein said to his horse, stroking its cheek.
Meanwhile, from the village center came a voice:
“I remind you that any information about the Raidarian forces, such as their location or strength, provided to us – knights of His Majesty’s army – will be rewarded with thirty gold coins. It’s a substantial reward. We are also recruiting for His Majesty’s regular army with a monthly salary of fifty gold coins.”
These were King Ford’s people – his knights, his well-armed and trained elite guard. Riding on horses, five individuals with broad and dense metal shields on their backs came into view. They didn’t wear heavy and thick armor since, in most cases, it was simply impractical for them. Only shoulders, forearms, sides at waist level, groin, shins, and faces were protected by metal. This was necessary to perfectly combine
