It had been a few days since they had left Port Zant. The sun rose on the horizon as the first rays touched the damp earth, awakening the city. A faint mist still lingered in the air, rendering the landscape ethereal, as if nature itself wished to prolong the peaceful silence of dawn. Slowly, the Iron Legion's camp ca to life. Warriors and group mbers moved with precision, dismantling the last tents, loading carts with supplies, and adjusting the horses' saddles.
At the center of it all, an open space had been chosen for the morning training. The rhythmic sound of wooden swords eting water echoed in the distance. Rygar stood facing Eidar, his body relaxed but his eyes sharp. Both wielded wooden swords, practicing the Water God Style, their postures fluid and graceful, like the movent of a river.
Rygar's focus was clear: to master the Flow. The Flow is akin to the Long Sword of Light of the Sword God Style; once fully mastered, one becos a Water Saint. But even knowing how to use it was the key to being considered a truly advanced-level warrior in the Water God Style. He had already learned all the necessary techniques, but he needed to apply them flawlessly. One mistake and the Flow would break, and the technique would fail.
"Control your haste, Rygar," said Eidar calmly, pausing montarily and assuming his fluid posture. "If your body and mind are not in sync, the Flow will never co—and you are too hasty."
Rygar nodded, closing his eyes for a mont. He took a deep breath, concentrating. The sound of footsteps, voices, and horses in the distance seed to fade. His mind focused only on the movent.
When he opened his eyes again, he struck.
Their wooden swords clashed, but Rygar didn't stop. He continued the movent with a spin, gracefully dodging Eidar's counterattack. His sword followed like a current of water, flowing from defense to attack and back to its original position without breaking rhythm. It was an agile and graceful dance. But it wasn't perfect.
"You're almost there," Eidar praised. "You have as much talent as I do in this style—perhaps a little more. But you still feel the need to force the movent. Flow is natural; it's letting the sword decide the path, not you."
Rygar paused and observed Eidar assu the posture once more. The fifteen-year-old youth didn't hide the confidence in his movents. He was on the verge of mastering the Flow completely, and when he did, he would be recognized as a Water Saint-level warrior. An impressive feat for his age. He had been a bit shaken when he first t Rygar, questioning whether he was truly talented. When he asked Eidar about it, Eidar simply told him that he was a monster—and that he shouldn't compare himself to monsters.
Rygar smiled faintly. Indeed, Eidar could be considered talented if he was close to reaching the Saint level—he just needed a push.
"You're really talented, Eidar. I also have so talent for it, but I'm not focusing on it as much as I should. Anyway, counterattacks and techniques to cut through magic are too useful for to abandon."
Eidar laughed, relaxing his stance and resting the wooden sword on his shoulder.
"You're a monster, Rygar. If you wanted to, you could surpass in this style in no ti."
Rygar shrugged and averted his gaze, noticing another scene not far away. Rufus sat on the ground, his brows furrowed in concentration as he murmured the words of a chant.
Beside him, two brown wolf pups rolled on the ground, playing and nibbling at each other. The fear they had shown in recent days seed to have vanished, replaced by the pure, childlike joy that only soone like Rufus could inspire. After being fed, cared for, and, most importantly, welcod, the pups had finally cald down.
Rygar decided to na them after the legendary wolves, but there already seed to be a Fenrir in this world, so he nad his wolf Skoll, Rufus Geri, and Taes Freki.
Rufus noticed Rygar's gaze and smiled, jumping to his feet and stretching his arms wide as if showing off a treasure.
"Chief! I finished morizing the chant!"
Rygar approached, leaving his sword aside and observing the small boy carefully. Next to them, the wolves montarily quieted, as if they knew sothing important was about to happen.
"Ready?" Rygar asked with an encouraging smile.
Rufus nodded vigorously. "Yes! I'm ready!"
He turned to a thin tree, raised his hand, and took a deep breath. His voice ca out clear and firm, filled with determination:
"Let the earth's solidity manifest and answer my call. I summon a rock, swift and true, here and now. Stone Bullet!"
At that instant, a small stone ford in the palm of his hand and shot toward the tree. The stone bullet flew fast and true, striking the trunk and shattering it with a dry crack. The thin and fragile tree wavered for a mont before falling.
Rufus froze for a second, eyes wide. Then, he let out a shout of joy and began jumping around, celebrating as if he had won the greatest battle of his life.
"I did it! I did it!" he shouted, running circles around the fallen tree.
Rygar smiled broadly, satisfied.
"Very good, Rufus. Now that you managed to cast it with the chant, I want you to try to replicate the feeling and cast it without it."
Rufus stopped jumping and looked at Rygar. "Ok!"
Rufus had always seen them using magic without chants, so Rygar hadn't told him it was a rare skill, thinking the challenge would be easier if the boy simply believed it was possible.
Without hesitation, Rufus focused again. Perhaps because he had never doubted the possibility, or maybe due to a natural talent, he closed his eyes, extended his hand once more, and took a deep breath. A mont later, a small stone bullet ford in his palm and shot forward, though less powerful than the first.
Rufus opened his eyes, widening them in surprise. "I did it! I did it again!"
This ti, he looked at Rygar with almost indescribable joy.
Rygar nodded, placing a hand on the boy's head.
"Well done, Rufus. Always rember what I told you: don't teach magic to anyone without my permission, don't hurt anyone without my permission, and always use up your mana every day. That will ensure you keep growing strong."
Rufus smiled broadly, his face glowing with confidence and happiness. He nodded vigorously before running off toward Eidar to show what he had done. From afar, Rygar watched the small boy, feeling a slight warmth in his chest. He truly saw himself in the child—he believed he would have turned out like Rufus if he hadn't been a reincarnate. He looked around and saw Kidar approaching, wearing a serious yet calm expression.
"We're ready to leave, chief."
Rygar looked at Kidar with a faint smile, accepting his suggestion. "Let's go, then. It'll be a long journey."
He cast a thoughtful gaze at those accompanying him. Tinaver, a city near Milishion, the capital of Milis, was their destination. He knew Verdia had a wealthy friend in the city and had lived with her for so ti. Now, they planned to use her help to secure a base in that location—a unique opportunity, perhaps.
Rygar looked at the horizon as the group prepared to depart. Over the coming months, he would need to instill in everyone the future workings of the Iron Legion. He needed to be ready for the challenges ahead, which involved training, coordination, and, of course, building bonds within the group. The journey to Tinaver wouldn't be difficult. The Holy Sword Road, famous for being safe, cut through the lands and was far from the usual monster attacks. He felt relieved by this but, at the sa ti, curious. That road—what had made it so different from the others? Was it truly carved by human hands? He couldn't help but be impressed by the idea. If so, it would be incredible.
As the group marched, Rygar observed his companions. Up ahead, Taes was in lively conversation with so of the forr beast-people slaves, including a beast-girl. If he rembered correctly, in a few months, the mating season would start again. Just thinking about it made Rygar feel an exhaustion building. Beast-girls... they always brought that subject up, and with it ca argunts, tensions, and, often, a ntal burden for him. The instinctive nature of his new body and the difficulty of balancing it with his human thoughts made him avoid such relationships, but he couldn't avoid it forever.
He sighed, looking ahead once more, trying to focus on the path before him. More important than that was the future of the Iron Legion. Establishing a base would be the next step, and ti was passing far too quickly.
The convoy began to move along the road, the creaking sound of the wagons echoing as their wheels rolled over the packed earth. The sun stood high in the sky, and the landscape around the Sacred Sword Road was peacefully beautiful. Rygar settled himself onto one of the wagons, sitting cross-legged as the gentle movent of the vehicle seed to invite him to relax. He glanced back and then heard Peikak's voice, loud and clear, shouting sothing he couldn't quite make out. The sound was distant, but the force of Peikak's words remained evident. Rygar smiled, appreciating the man's unyielding spirit.
He sighed again, his thoughts drifting away from the group's voices and focusing instead on his own mind, where a storm of thoughts mingled. Although they were moving, with their destination of Tinaver still months away, Rygar felt the weight of his responsibilities growing heavier with each passing mont. His savings were still considerable. After all, they had looted the treasure of an entire network of slave traffickers—one of the richest on the continent—and the money they had recovered was enough to secure a good amount of resources for his Legion. But he knew what that ant. Those resources wouldn't last forever, and soon, they would need to find a sustainable way to keep the Legion running. A pragmatic, but necessary, realization.
He reflected on what he had discussed with the key leaders of the Iron Legion. Decisions had been made. The future of the Legion would be built not just with swords and magic, but with actions that ensured its financial stability. Part of the mbers would beco adventurers, traveling across the continent in search of contracts to earn resources. Others would join the Legion's rcenary group, protecting villages and towns, and taking on missions for clients. But it wouldn't end there. Other mbers of the Legion would spread out into businesses—small enterprises they would start and sustain over ti. The forr slaves possessed various valuable skills, and Peikak, always pragmatic and clever, had offered so excellent ideas on how to utilize them.
Once again, Rygar felt grateful for bringing Peikak along. Over the past days, the man had proven to be more than just a simple tavern keeper, offering creative solutions and organizing the Legion's operations in ways Rygar could never have imagined on his own. It was good to have soone he could trust—soone who thought about the future and the logistics of everything they were doing. Looking at the scenery before him, Rygar thought about the people of the Legion—the mbers who had fought by his side and who now, with the Legion's growth, would need to learn to live more organized lives, work together, and build sothing lasting.
As the convoy moved along the peaceful road, Rygar's thoughts also drifted elsewhere. He looked around, observing the Legion's mbers, and his mind naturally turned toward others in distant places. How were Kilian, Pursena, and the others doing in the Great Forest? Rygar always worried about everyone's training, but he knew that those who were farther away—like his friends in the forest—ran the risk of neglecting their training. He sighed again. If there was one thing that always irritated him, it was when soone—especially those two heirs—fled from training whenever the opportunity arose. They, more than anyone, needed to focus on perfecting their abilities.
But this also made him reflect on his own situation. He hadn't neglected his own training and knew that, for the Legion to grow and prosper, he needed to beco even stronger. Training would never be enough; it would never be easy. He also thought about how his parents were doing. He worried about them but even more so about his master.
The few months he had spent away from her had been harder than he had expected. A quiet longing gripped his heart—sothing he tried to hide under the facade of the Legion's leader. He needed to send them a letter once they reached Tinaver, sharing news about his journey and the Legion's future. He also knew he had to tell them about Ghislaine—what had happened to her and how she was doing. He wasn't sure how they would react, but he felt no need to hide it.
Rygar made a ntal list of his goals for when they reached Tinaver. Establishing and organizing the Iron Legion effectively was, undoubtedly, the most important task. But there were other things that needed to be done. He had to buy back Eidar's brother from the lord of Tinaver or, alternatively, kidnap him if circumstances turned favorable. He also knew that the opportunity to approach other territories might arise, and at so point, he needed to find a way to reach the rank of Sword King. Furthermore, he needed to travel to the dwarves' territory and embed a magic stone into his sword. His master had said that doing so would instantly increase his strength, as all of his magic would be amplified to so degree, depending on the magic stone.
Beyond all this, there was another, darker, more personal goal. He needed to investigate the Joylore house and, when the opportunity arose, assassinate Linstar Joylore. The reason was crystal clear in his mind: Linstar had attempted to kill his master, and Rygar couldn't let that go unpunished. He also knew that, depending on the situation, greater retaliation against the entire Joylore house might be necessary. But he also had to tread carefully. It wasn't yet the right ti to beco a direct enemy of Milis—not yet. He wasn't strong enough, and he knew it.
The convoy pressed forward on its journey, and Rygar felt the weight of his own thoughts piling up. Yet, while the others continued their conversations and tasks, he forced himself to focus on the present. He looked around, observing the people with him, and noticed sothing curious. Most of the gazes he t were respectful and reverent.
Few showed fear. He realized that, over the past days, his frequent interactions with the Legion's mbers had shown them that he was more approachable than he seed. The gazes that might once have been filled with distrust were now laced with trust. He had beco soone they could rely on—not a distant leader, but soone flesh and blood who shared the sa struggles and difficulties.
He decided to try to learn lightning magic again, he attempted to create a small cumulonimbus cloud in his hand, as he had done on previous occasions. He concentrated, feeling the magic flow through him, and, to his surprise, the cloud ford. A mont later, a small lightning bolt crackled within it. A satisfied smile crossed his lips. Finally. Finally, he managed to create the first lightning.
He looked forward once more, feeling that the long road ahead would hold many more obstacles. But for now, he was ready to face whatever ca.
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