Richard looked at Felix, who was now frowning at him as if he had broken a sacred promise. "He wishes to fight the Dakra with us," he said to Richard. "What happened with the Dakra?" asked Richard. "They came to cause trouble at the tavern, but the Prince single-handedly fought and sent them walking away in shame," Felix said. "Now they wish to come back for revenge, promising to be back with an army in three days to return the favor because they think we hired an outsider to make a mockery of them." Richard arched a brow, trying to comprehend that line of reasoning. "That's silly," he said. "I know, right?" replied Felix. Richard sighed before looking back at Cyrus. "Tell you what," he said. "Prove to me and everyone that you would be a far better leader by leading this village to victory against the Dakra when the time comes. If you do so, I will put my faith in you and follow you for the rest of my days. Does that sound good?" Cyrus sighed. "That would be quite difficult, not
Cyrus had to sleep, but found it difficult to do so, perhaps because he was nervous about what to do next. By his estimation, it was less than two days before the Dakra would invade the village, and he would somehow have to teach the villagers everything they needed to know before then. Basic combat was something he was taught in three weeks and mastered over two months. Now he had to magically compress the entire course into 24 hours, not accounting for rest and timeout. Realistically, he knew that the village was screwed. There wasn't another way to put it. But at the same time, he just couldn't think like that. He realized several hours had passed while he was still worrying about this, and he had a long day ahead of him. So he had to force himself to sleep, and eventually, he succeeded. But it wasn't long after when he heard a loud knock on the door, immediately jolting him out of slumber. By the time his eyes were open, he closed them back immediately as the sudden rush of dayl
Robin got to his feet, swatting off the dust from his clothes while the others looked at him without saying anything. He didn't need them to say anything, though, as he knew they were all disapproving of what he had done. In that same manner, Robin turned away, dragging his pitchfork as he retired to his home. "Aren't you going to stay with us?" asked Eros. "We are just about to start." Robin gave no answer as he got back into his hut and shut the door closed. He couldn't even bring himself to look back at them, thanks to his hurt ego. Eros called his name one more time before another one of them placed his hand on his shoulder and shook his head. "Let him cool off," he said. "Don't force it." "In his current situation, we'd be better off without him anyway," John added. Then the man who had stopped Eros looked back at Cyrus. He was a tall man with a great muscular build, probably the largest of all of them, and had a docile outlook. Cyrus was starting to like him. "What is your
Of course, Cyrus couldn't sleep well that night as nightmares of the worst-case scenario tormented his mind. It might have been that he would die in the upcoming battle, that he would never be King of Griffindale because of it, and that his quest would end with the destruction of the village. These were the nightmares that tormented him, and when he woke up, it was almost daybreak, and he couldn't get back to sleep. He had struggled to sleep because of his anxiety, but when he finally could, the bad dreams wouldn't let him be. He got out of his bed and strapped on his armor and weapons. Somehow, he knew this would be the day, even though it had only been two full days since the promised Dakra invasion. After getting ready, he left his money and other things that weren't needed for the battle behind and left the room. He walked out of the Inn and into the tavern, where he saw Felix cleaning the tables and setting the cups and plates at the counter. "Good morning," he greeted, and Fel
The men turned back to join Cyrus, but for some of them, it was already too late as the burning arrows had impaled them. The others ran forward while the unfortunate ones fell and perished with burning arrows in their chests. Some had arrows run through their bowels, and others through their hips and thighs, but they persevered, knowing there was no other way forward than to fight or die in complacency, and they had chosen the former. Cyrus clicked his tongue, angry with himself for not seeing this sooner. Of course, he had heard of strategies used by leading governments to quell rebellions in lower regions, but he had underestimated the Dakras' ability to use such tactical moves, given their savage tendencies. All surviving men had reassembled at the front of the village, and the downpour of arrows had ceased. Multiple villagers had died, along with a few of the men who were to defend the city. But now wasn't the time to mourn; they had to act as though some of their own had not die
While the celebrations died down, the village had gone to work. Some children under supervision had ran to the battlefield to gather the spoils and clean up the messes. Fathers who had returned home worked to reconstruct their houses with their families. While this was happening, Cyrus had gone back to the stalls at the entrance of the village, hoping Ceres, his horse was alright. When he got there, he was glad to see it alive and well, without injury. Though it's back was covered in straw, thanks to the collapsed roof above her head. Cyrus examined the roof, and as he did, Julius came from behind, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Those arrows really did a number on my stable", he said. "Thankfully I was around to put out the fires before they could harm any of the animals, including your beast." Cyrus looked back at him and bowed in gratitude. The old man brought him back up. "Come on, young man", he said. "There is no need for that." Cyrus thanked him one more time before reach
Frederick wanted to question Cyrus's right to put him in the spotlight that way, but decided to be held accountable first. "I recognise that you are not from around here", he said. "But I digress. The main driving force behind I and my brother's success in joining the King's Diamond, unlike the others, was not by sheer talent or hard work. But rather, it was by bloodthirst. I and my brother, deep down had a thirst for blood. Growing up in the streets, we had the little we needed for survival by killing, and ever since childhood we had been that way, ever since we watched our parents get killed in cold blood and avenged them immediately. We thought we would never kill again, but what we failed to realise was that one never turned back once he goes down that path, and we learnt that the hard way. Just as we had killed our parent's killer and got the things he had on him for ourselves, we went on by that example, using violence to get everything what we wanted. After all, we were bot
Frederick widened his eyes in disbelief. "Have you gone mad?", he asked. "I mean no disprespect - but how do you plan to fight against a city with walls are over thirty feet high and five feet thick? You have no tools, let alone an army." "That is slightly accurate", Cyrus replied. "Last I heard, my father was making plans to reinforce the city walls even much more than that - unless of course, my step mother has other plans." "You know what you are proposing, right?", Frederick asked, stunned by Cyrus's indifference to the gravity of what he was saying. "You are asking I and my people to be part of your rebellion. If the Queen hears about this, she could send her minions down here to wipe out our village." "Us royals have never bothered checking up on anyone outside the walls of the capital city", Cyrus said. "Regions outside of the city have been largely ignored for decades. What makes you think that they would care about what your village is up to?" "I am not ask