A snappy wind blew through the courtyard. Then, a loud clang erupted. Reyla skidded meters back, nearly falling off balance. Across the courtyard was a pale young man holding a wooden sword. His hair was a two-tone blend of black and purple, going just past his shoulders. Reyla spat blood to the side, then walked towards him.

  “Cheap tricks, is that all you’re good for?” She said.

  “Nothing’s wrong with cheap tricks. Sometimes they win the fight.” His voice was gravelly, and his yellow-colored eyes focused on her.

  “Ah, I see. So, you being from a so-called honorable clan means nothing if you’re just an ass,” Reyla said.

  “You’re lucky even to be here. I heard things you wouldn’t want to hear again,” He said.

  “Oh, is that what we’re doing? How about I tell your clan leader how much of a moron you are!” Reyla shouted.

  His eyes narrowed, hair floating upward, while the purple highlights began to gleam.

  “Okay, okay! That’s enough, you’re doing a bunch more insulting than sparring, if you ask me,” Yvette intervened.

  Echthron, who was sitting on a barrel, stood.

  “Much to my attention, it seems like some of you can’t set aside your differences, despite training alongside each other for weeks now. I haven’t noticed any major issues in your assignments… But, who’s to say that there won’t be any with this task?” Echthron kicked the barrel to the side.

  The entire courtyard went silent. Veyric could hear a flock of birds cawing just beyond it, while weapons clanged onto the ground in unison. Yvette, Reyla, and Rai walked to the center of the courtyard. A few others also followed suit, forming a horizontal line from Yvette to Rai.

  “Reyla, as the division’s only natural healer, you must use your gift to heal your teammates, no matter how you truly feel about them. Because one less person decreases the team’s overall efficiency.” Echthron said.

  Reyla’s face scrunched up, and her eyes narrowed.

  “Why must it be I to heal these unappreciative morons?” She said.

  Echthron folded his arms behind his back.

  “Truth be told, your power to heal is exceedingly rare. It’s even mightier than my own. The ability to save life itself among those given the power to destroy is always glorified. And it is a gift that you are not allowed to be selfish with,” Echthron said.

  “Had someone like you existed in my time, there would be many more like me standing before you. I dare say they’re even thousands of times stronger than me—stars apart, even. Still, I find myself just barely closing in on what they achieved. All of you can be even better than me,” He added.

  “Us catch up to you? That’s not even in the realm of possibilities for us humans,” Rai said.

  “Oh, but it is. If only there were a way I could show you what I see,” Echthron grins.

  Veyric was sitting on the ground, his gaze lifting to the sky. He watched the colors of the day begin to fade. Nightfall was approaching, and the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, stars faintly sparkling. Before he noticed, the training was over, and everyone was relaxing for the day. Rai and Reyla appeared to have forgotten about their fight over a game of cards. Yvette was lying on the ground nearby, looking up at the sky, her hair spread out across it.

  “It doesn’t seem like you were too interested in the training, Veyric.” Echthron pulled up a barrel and sat with him.

  “You were mostly talking to them, anyway…” He said.

  “Yes, indeed. That’s because they are more than capable of handling any threat together, combat-wise. However, when things get out of hand, they lash out at each other, which is normal for any team. That’s why I find myself talking to them more than training them,” Echthron said.

  “Yeah, they’re already strong. Every one of them is unique in a way that I wish I could be,” Veyric’s eyes passed over the group again.

  “Yes, they are, but you are too. Take my word for it, Veyric.” Echthron said.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “That book you gave me, how did you get it?” Veyric asked.

  “It was in my Queen’s vault for years after the war. From what I know, your mother told her to hold onto it.” Echthron said.

  “So would that mean more could be waiting for me in the Wyvernlands?” Veyric said.

  “You’d have to go there to find out. I would be delighted to accompany you, but I have a strong feeling that if I leave Augus, I will return to see ruin.” Echthron said.

  “That makes more sense than I thought it would’ve. One run-in with you could mean the end of everything he’s worked for. If that’s the case, he won’t go anywhere near Eyheluna. He said himself that he struck the underground because they’re expendable,” Veyric said.

  “Hm, what a volatile man,” Echthron said.

  “Do you think we have a chance against him?” Veyric said.

  “Of course,” Echthron grins.

  “Why?” Veyric asked.

  “You’ll have to trust me on this. And by trusting me, I expect you to trust in your allies and trust in yourself. If there is no belief, then there is no hope, and without either of those, our world collapses,” Echthron answers.

  “I’ll end it there for now. Let’s get you back to the manor,” He stands from the barrel.

  “You desired to be an emperor. A ruler of worlds. Don’t give me that look for setting you free from the one man chaining you down,” Zeta said.

  Morris’s pale fist was right against Zeta’s forehead.

  “Grueling, isn’t it? Grueling when you can’t accomplish anything with the hand of cards you were dealt,” Zeta said.

  A cold wind streamed through the forest. Morris felt his body shiver, and his fist was trembling against Zeta’s forehead.

  “You envied him. They’d always looked up to his determination and his nature, both of which were things you couldn’t stand. They sang his name throughout the underground—your brother did too. And that’s why you silently resented him, always looking for a way to prove your worth.” Zeta grabbed Morris’s wrist and moved it down.

  “Envy. But what is there now to envy, Morris? They’re a dying group of maggots with no leader, backed by a King whose intentions had nothing to do with helping them. Anything you desire can now be yours,” Zeta said.

  “... You were in my memories? How’s that possible!” He staggered back, his breath sharp and heavy.

  “Anything is possible with this power of mine. With the cult willing to offer themselves to me, I’ve gained a powerful set of allies,” Zeta said.

  “Allies to you are people who lie belly up and do as you say? Well, not me, I’d rather die!” Morris swung his fist at Zeta.

  Morris’s fist struck Zeta, knocking his head to the side.

  “No. Allies to me are people who believe in my vision, and soon you will too.” Zeta reached up to grab Morris by the face.

  Morris felt a gnawing headache form, his thoughts being led astray, and his eyes rolling to the back of his head. An agonizing roar broke from his throat, blood running out of his nostrils, while his body convulsed. Flashes sparked through Morris’s mind. Cloudy skies, and blood red towns backed by heaping piles of corpses.

  “That’s right. Massacring them is a necessary step. We are a sacrificial species, Morris. For beauty to blossom, we must offer them so the lands can be pure once more,” Zeta spoke over Morris’s screams and cries.

  “Don’t you get it?... Don’t you see? Don’t make me think I picked wrong. Where has your desire to conquer gone?” Zeta pushed Morris.

  He crumbled to the ground on his back. Zeta walked closer to him, staring down at his trembling body.

  “I saved you from dying at the hands of King Alan’s knights, which would be such an unreasonable death for what I see in you. You screamed at the dragon for wasting his potential, but in fact, you’re doing the same by denying my gift,” Zeta said.

  “What will it be, Morris? Will you waste my offer, now knowing that everything is within your reach? Or will you join your dead brother, who amounted to nothing?”