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Llyn came seconds after, he had never seen this waterfall, though he did live next to Blackvein forest. He had only ventured into its depths once before, a few years back, during a perilous mission; ten guards had accompanied him… he was the sole survivor. Llyn slowly got off, his eyes not leaving M. He took a deep breath trying to prepare for what was about to unfold.82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo7ioAHh6eZ
"You did good, boy." M got off his horse, then patted it. He then directed his attention towards Llyn. As Llyn saw the faint red glow in M's eyes, he knew this was the man responsible for the slaughter at the tavern, confirming his suspicions.82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh1e0wCzNPj
"You killed three men." Llyn's face grew serious; he had a job to do.82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6FIDTWtRvT
"Are you Xander Griffith?" that was the first question M asked.82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaQp1f2Jj9h
"No. Now answer my question." Llyn's serious face turned a bit worried; wondering how this man knew of Xander.82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeQgFNnQw5K
M shook his head, his expression unmoving, "They weren't men. They were monsters."82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMRB2QwbgKc
"Instead of killing them, you should have brought them to us. We would have put them on trial for their crimes. Though now I have orders to take you in or kill you."82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKV2LmnNfIy
"They were brigands. They threatened to burn down a tavern. They were pestering a lady, and would have done something far worse. They wore stolen clothes and swords." M tried giving every reason.
Llyn shook his head slowly. "A trial should have been held! Then we could've hanged them if they were found guilty." Llyn said firmly.
M's face slowly turned to disappointment. He had expected the brilliant rider to possess some sense, to understand his actions, but instead of gratitude for ridding the world of three scum who had looted, pillaged, and caused unspeakable chaos, he faced death. That was what M would get in return for saving the tavern.
"You're all the same," M muttered, though he could not blame the man too much, after all that was his job as a guard.
Llyn looked closely into the hood, trying to get a glimpse of the man, he stepped forward. Then he saw M's face, he had guessed his age just by looking at the killer's face, M was young. Llyn looked down, his mouth closed.
"How old are you?" Llyn asked in a gentle voice. Llyn was even more shocked now; how could someone so young have been responsible for the deaths of those three men so violently?82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBTeVjXqQyZ
M wasn't in the mood to answer any of Llyn's questions. "Don't make me hurt you." M said reluctantly.
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Llyn let out a faint smile, "You won't." M had underestimated Llyn's stature, unaware of the sword master he faced. Though M would quickly find out.
Words had failed them, leaving only the stark reality of their opposing paths; a fight of duty versus perceived justice was about to unfold. M took out his sword from his black and white scabbard from under his dark green cloak. His scabbard wasn't going back or else it would be clashing with his cloak, instead it was partially upright. The sword itself was menacing. The handle was black and the steel shining bright. It wasn't forged by a common blacksmith but a legendary one. On the steel itself there were some peculiar engravings, though they were so faint Llyn couldn't see what they were.
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Llyn was very impressed by the sword his opponent held. He knew the cloaked figure's sword must've been forged in Azoria, known for its blacksmiths, a mountainous region on the edge of the map to the southeast, quite far from Flemdale, about three weeks on horseback. Llyn also knew that M was dangerous; he could not underestimate the bandit killer.
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Llyn took out his own sword from his scabbard, which was also strapped to his waist. His sword wasn't nearly as special as M's, but he took great care of his blade every month. He made sure to oil it frequently to stop it from rusting, and this practice had worked. His current sword had lasted him for three years and was still going strong. Llyn sighed, his voice tinged with reluctance.
“Surrender,” Llyn called, steady but not unkind. “I don’t want bloodshed.”
In his mind, however, Xander’s words still echoed. If this boy fought… he had orders to kill him but deep down in Llyn’s heart those orders didn’t feel right.
“Surrender,” Llyn repeated, more quietly. “You’ll be given a trial. I promise.”
They began a tense, circling dance, the roar of the waterfall a constant, colossal backdrop.82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjOrAUkdWL0
"Is this my reward for defending the defenceless?" M spat, a hint of disgust on his face.
Llyn countered, "We stop lawlessness, whoever the perpetrator may be. You must follow the laws of the land!" Each man had a point of their own. "I don't want to harm—" Before Llyn could even finish his sentence, M lunged at him like a tiger pouncing on his prey. Llyn reacted by gripping his sword and adjusting his stance.
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M's first strike came like a storm, the red-eyed figure swung quickly, aiming for Llyn's chest with full conviction. Llyn caught it with his own sword, metal screeched against metal. A loud CLANG was heard throughout the forest as the two swords met.
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The flurries didn't stop, It was fierce; in just a few seconds, M had swung so many times that normal men would have already lost count. Though, it was proving ineffective; Llyn held his ground, blocking all the strikes with his own trusty sword. Even if a strike were to get through, which it hadn’t yet, Llyn’s plate armour would definitely stop the sword from doing any real damage, M knew this. Nevertheless, each block demanded Llyn's full attention. The repeated noises of the two swords clashing with each other were like hammers raining down to forge a sword.
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The two swords struck each other with such violence that a poorly forged or neglected blade would have shattered in pieces by now. Yet both their blades endured, slamming together without mercy.
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M shifted back then tried something different, feinting high to draw Llyn’s guard upward, then quickly aimed his sword low towards Llyn's legs, but Llyn was ready. The strike was once again deflected effortlessly by him, Llyn had predicted his move. M quickly took a few steps back. Now he had truly understood Llyn's capabilities.
"Who taught you to wield a sword with such skill?" M said, impressed.
"Ser Aaron, the Bright." Llyn replied, taking a breath and smiling slightly.
"Aaron…" the cloaked one was even more impressed now. M had only just been born when Ser Aaron died.
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Aaron had been named the Bright because he always smiled, even in the face of death. He was renowned for single-handedly slaughtering ten wolves to save a terrified young boy. The wolves had eaten his horse, not to mention he lost three fingers on his left hand during the encounter, yet he still smiled and laughed through the pain while carrying the boy six miles to the nearest settlement. He was remembered long after his death, a testament to his legacy.
"One of the finest knights this continent has ever known," Llyn stated with pride.
M was confused, though he would never express it on his face.82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMLrkY2fyU7
"Why are you here?" M said, gesturing towards Flemdale. His question was valid: what was a man trained by Ser Aaron himself be doing in an unimportant small town like Flemdale?
Llyn didn't answer. Instead, he attacked. His sword aimed towards M's shoulders. M was wearing no armour under his cloak, if he got hit, even once, it would be fatal. M sidestepped, countering with a vicious horizontal swing.
The trees swayed in the distance, even they were enjoying this spectacular fight. M could still sense someone was watching them fight, but he had to focus on Llyn.
M needed to end this. As their swords locked together once again, M swiftly drove his leg hard across the side of Llyn’s ankle. In open ground Llyn might have kept his footing. In mud, he had no chance. His legs went out from under him and he hit the earth with a sound impact ringing through every joint.
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Llyn wouldn't lose like this; he couldn’t allow such humiliation. Instantly, he rolled away and leaped up, as if propelled by sheer will. As soon as he was back up, M's blade whipped past his head, so close the displaced air moved his thin white hair, he narrowly ducked. Llyn was wearing chest armour but his face was wide open, he wasn’t wearing a helmet.
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M paused, his blade dipped for the briefest instant. Llyn realized he needed to attack now.
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Llyn let his grip loosen on his sword, just slightly, just enough for a trained eye to read as exhaustion. Then he committed everything he had remaining into a single thrust, his whole body driving behind the blade, aimed not at the chest or shoulder but directly at M's face. The strike came blindingly fast.
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M's eyes widened. He couldn't raise his sword to block in time, attempting it would leave his face disfigured for the rest of his life, the sword had speed, not strength. Instead, he threw himself downward. The finely refined blade found the narrow gap between M’s hair and the top of his cloak, shearing through a few black strands of his hair and cutting the top edge of his green fabric, a thin line of it. Llyn recoiled his sword back, then went for M's stomach, though his energy depleted fast, the strike was much slower than the first.
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M twisted his blade, redirecting Llyn's sword and weaving it to the left. M then bashed the old man's sword to the ground from above; it fell out of his hand, Llyn’s grip was too loose. Llyn dropped to one knee, though… not from exhaustion. M quickly pressed his sword against the guard's throat. Llyn's chest kept rising and falling rapidly, his age was working against him.
M generally disliked guards, knights, and nobles, but he would never harm them unless they were truly despicable creatures. He did not sense that in Llyn.82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2V0q8Ahf7u
"Go." M said in a flat voice.82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsvWqRBogwK
"Never," Llyn could not abandon his mission.
M smiled. "I guess I'm a better swordsman than that knight who trained you." he said mockingly, attempting to provoke Llyn.
Llyn only smiled back.
Then M felt it. A cold, low pressure against his cloak: a dagger.
How? M thought. They were locked in a tense stand-off. Slowly, they both retracted their deadly weapons from each other.
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While M had been talking, Llyn had discreetly taken out his dagger when he dropped to one knee. That manoeuvre was impressive, doing so without sound or detection was heavenly.82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaWieSGZlKa
"I can't let you leave," Llyn uttered, though M ignored him, then put his sword back in his scabbard and got on his horse, looking at Llyn with the deadest of smiles.82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg0WCtHnWMa
"Eighteen." M uttered, referring to the question asked by Llyn before the battle. That was his age.
Llyn's stamina was dangerously low. If he were in his prime, he could definitely still have maintained his stamina. However, after the fight, he was breathing rapidly and sweating profusely. He needed to get on his horse; he couldn't let M leave.
Llyn tried getting up, but his legs were trembling uncontrollably now. He had focused so much on defending the flurry of attacks at the start of the battle that his legs felt stiff and unresponsive. Llyn knew that if the fight had continued, he would have been bested.
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Suddenly, the faint sounds of approaching hoofbeats echoed from the distance. M quickly yanked on the reins and went in the direction from which he had come from.
From the opposite direction came Xander and Oliver. Brimming with energy. M hadn't depleted his stamina, he was just getting started, but he had encountered enough guards for one day. He knew he could not afford to be seen. He galloped fast until he reached a treeline on his left. He turned towards them and went through the dense trees. If he hadn't, he would have run into Xander and Oliver, who were coming from the direction Llyn and M had originally entered the forest.
He urged his horse to go faster, and it responded.
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He had now been riding for a good ten minutes and could see a faint light, an exit. He felt watched in the forest, the presence stopped as soon as his horse's hooves left the forest. He quickly got off his horse and wiped the horse tracks away, ensuring he wouldn't be followed. His next stop was Fenwell. North of Flemdale, he still hadn't forgotten about Gareth; he needed to check whether he was there, and more importantly, get more coin. He had to pick up a quick job or a bounty, or else he would be sleeping with his horse on the streets.82Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdoxhqEd5xi
and then Add to home screen.