Rhoarin stood in front of an army, his wife beside him. There were roughly around three thousand men, a brigade of soldiers. They were both adorned in full royal armor, bright silver plate mail that glistened as the sun reflected off it.

Karron stood beside him, dark eyes unwavering; day light bouncing off its silver scales. A majestic creature indeed.

All the men stood attentive, their swords sheathed, and their ears perked. The day had come to intercept the beast tide.

"I believe you are all aware of the task at hand today." His voice echoed through even the cracks in the floor.

"YES SIR!" They resounded. The crinkling of metal could be heard all over the grounds.

Rhoarin proceeded to give them a speech and before long they were off.

Alaric stood in his chambers, a sharp glint in his eyes as he watched the soldiers mount their horses and move in a practiced formation.

’I seriously hope it doesn’t get any worse than this.’ The old man thought.

_ _ _

Jacob stood in front of a pathway, a wooden structure that mimicked a gate.

Welcome to The Sect of the Flying Macabre

Was written across a signboard plastered on the top of the wooden structure.

Within this space he could see dozens of people, a group of men were in a particular formation, suspended in air, standing on their swords.

’I remember that skill now, no wonder they’re called the flying macabre.’ He mused, folding his arms.

Amidst all these people, he still couldn’t find his target, he would have to get a better look at the place.

He couldn’t just waltz in there, he would be noticed in an instant, he thought up a plan pretty quickly but needed to know where his adversary was before carrying it out.

Luckily nobody seemed to have noticed him yet, so he was in the clear, he instantly vanished from that spot and in a moment he regrouped with Xenia and Levi.

"Did you find what you were looking for, young master." Xenia asked him, she was curious to know what begrudged him, but she knew to stay within her limits.

"Not yet, but I will, for sure." He answered, looking out into the small village, "You can both make camp here, I will not be long."

"How long is... long?" Levi asked, slapping off mosquitoes from his skin, "As you can see, these flesh-eating monsters are trying to kill me." He waved his hands over his ears.

"Give me two days, I will have what I need and we can continue our journey, there is enough food and water to last a month." Jacob responded.

He turned to Xenia, she looked like she was about to explode with curiousity, but she had otherworldly self-control, she restrained herself from asking him, since Jacob was a boy, she never had been able to stop him from doing what he really wanted, or felt was right.

And right now she knew he was doing what he felt was right.

"I need you to trust me, this is a personal matter, promise me you won’t interfere—I’ll do this quickly and we’ll be gone. I promise." He said to her.

She gave a small nod back, "What am I supposed to do if you don’t come back in two days?" She inquired, her usual warm smile nonexistent.

Jacob smirked confidently. "Two days, it will not exceed two days."

_ _ _

Savant sat in his office, the millionth cigar fastened between his lips, he had smoked more cigars after his encounter with the Ironfell boy than he had before it.

Thinking about Jacob Ironfell made his blood boil, the boy was an anomaly, one that had no place in this world, he needed to be erased.

There was a short knock on his door, without raising his head from the documents in his hand he said, "Who is it?"

A young boy no older than sixteen walked into the office,he had long brown hair and brown eyes.

The man coughed slightly and put his cigar out in the ashtray on his desk.

"Is there a reason why you are here, boy?" Savant sneered, a disgusted look on his face.

"Sir I have come to talk to you."

"What about?" The man asked.

"I know that I failed in the task you gave me five years ago, but all this time—I have trained nonstop, day and night—I have forsaken rest, I have cultivated to the pinnacle of my abilities. Please give me a chance to serve you sir." Zaheer said with his head down.

"A chance to serve me?" Savant asked, then laughed, hard.

"I gave you that chance against the Ironfell boy and you failed, I have no use for you." He said,

"Then organize another match sir, I will beat him this time." Zaheer inquired desperately, clutching his garment.

"Are you stupid boy? The time for that is long gone." The man buried his head back in the papers, "If you have nothing important to say, then I suggest you get back to your duties."

Zaheer wanted to talk, but his words got caught in his throat, after a moment he swallowed loudly and steeled his resolve.

"I will not give up, I will work hard so I can finally become someone you deem worthy."

"Yeah Yeah, you can do now," Savant waved his hand as if shooing a dog away.

Zaheer got up and immediately left his office, his eyes watered at the thought of not being good enough.

He looked down at his worn out hands, for the last five years he had worked and trained, day and night, and had achieved <Mid Emperor Realm> and yet this man would still not acknowledge him.

As soon as the boy left, Savant switched his gaze to the iron door.

He knew the boy meant well, and he had hoped over the years that the harsh treatment would push him to transcend his limits, but alas, even with his resolve; he still couldn’t hold a candle to the Ironfell boy.

That made him so angry.