Chapter 11: Fear and courage of war

Allan ran into a house and grabbed his stuff from his room. Fortunately, he had a fresh supply of food he bought but did not know where the money from shop businesses was. Allan could only take his savings. Two full pouches of coins were all he had.

It was still quite a wealth. His father did not manage him about it. Because he was doing his own business and contracts. Materials from the shop were the only things he used and Clayton never intended to hinder his learning experiences. All his metals and other materials were his as well as his son's. Profits not so much, but that was something Allan had to figure out himself

All of sudden, Allan heard shouts from the window. He glanced outside. Seeing lines of horses with soldiers on them. “Cavalry is here? What are they doing here? They are far away from the main gate.” Allan thought in curiosity.

Yet, this curiosity was replaced by the fear which came with a horrific sight that went outside. The rows of dozens of riders started to massacre the people. Cleaving at them with blades. Piercing flesh with spears. Blood flowed on as they lost their lives at an alarming rate. They were not the northerners, as they wore regular-looking armor and weapons. Nothing showed their stands and uniforms. As for the Grusha or Waan armies, they had their own crests and mandatory ways to distinguish their looks.

“Oh, no! No!” Allan backed from the window. Terrified by this sight.

“I-i-i-i-I should take a bunch of weapons with me.” He mumbled in nervousness. Amassing a little of the courage he had, left his room. With his bag and sack on his shoulders, he went downstairs. Fear of death washed over his feelings. He did not think of the dead citizens outside of his home. The sigh of death completely overwhelmed his mind.

Almost falling over, he glanced outside, not sure how much time he had before he was noticed or raided. He went to a warehouse and got some knives and a pair of short swords. He remembered that ranged weapons were very useful against adults with his build. “We used to sell bows. Now, that would be useful. Unfortunately, we have none.”

Alas, he remembered he had flying knives from earlier. They were still hidden in the bucket in the forge. More than that, he could try to use regular knives for throwing, but they weren’t meant to be thrown, so Allan took his knives instead.

“Oh right. I shouldn’t forget my books! Although they are not important to one’s life. It is too important to me. To throw them away, I am not willing.”

Allan took his stuff off and ran upstairs to get his books. Throwing himself towards his stash, he found his collection and took away the most important ones.

“Where is my spy diary?”

“Where is it??” Allan shouted in a fit of anger. Making a mess of his room in a couple of moments, he couldn’t find it.

“I left it here… l am sure…”

Thud! Beng!

Stopping, Allan heard an unknown sound from the first floor. Someone came inside by force and entered through the locked door.

Gritting his teeth, he left his room. “N-no…”

As he looked around a corner. He saw a man wearing furred clothes made from hides and animal fur. They did not look that barbaric. In fact, they had accents of different colors and types, which made them tougher than leather armor. They looked quite intimidating. It was the regular clothes of northern tribes when they went to war.

“So it is true.” Allan finally had his confirmation. As he was standing there, he backed a step away from the stairs. To his utmost fear, his face cringed as a wood creaked before his feet.

The man noticed the sound and went to look at Allan, who was frozen by this sudden situation. The man below the stairs grinned as if he was looking at his prey.

“Shit!” Allan panicked, stumbling backward into a wall. “What a psychopath, he is going to kill me.” Struggling to his feet, he summoned his courage. “You… get away!”

His words were met with silence as he could hear the approaching steps from the stair.

Stabilizing his breath Allan grabbed his courage. Grabbing his left hand around the sides of the wall, he moved closer to the stairs while he took something from his pocket.

“Fuck off!” Allan shouted, and throw it away as he leaned from a corner. His foe not wearing any head armor. Ax in his back, he probably did not think that he would need it. As he threw the knife away, Allan couldn't care less about his language at all. He heard more and more magical words in the pug of the Lonely Tiger. People there were never unbothered to let their words or feelings out.

Thud.

The knife thud was heard by Allan, who looks from the other corner, as the knife penetrated his head. Too bad for this man, as he was closest to it as he was walking upstairs. His face was still grinning, but the shock was in his eyes. He collapsed from the stairs. Dead.

“Serves you…” Allan mumbled to himself, as his hands were shaking, and so were his legs. If it wouldn't for a lag that rested by a wall, he would collapse.

Thank god he took his flying knives with him, as they were small enough to carry. “Such power. I am not even that proficient in throwing, so my power was definitely weak. It was the flying knife which made up for my shortcomings.” Allan sighed as he took another knife in his right hand and books in the other.

Walking down at a steady pace, he approached the corpse but did not look at it at all. This was his first time killing another human being. It felt like nothing as he looked at the lost look on that man's face. He could have a family of his own or a son, like Allan's age. It was an older man with a fierce expression. This sight would be left in Allan's mind for a long time.

“I am not sorry… Y-you… should have never come here!” Allan muttered through his gritted teeth and retrieved his knife from his head.

Allan's next plan was to leave by a back door, but before he could, another figure emerged from the open main door. He was bleeding all over. His face was sweaty and in visible pain. With swords in both hands, which were more bloody than himself. The aura of a warrior was around him, with a clear air of superiority and experience.

“M-M-Mister Thomas?” Allan was shocked by this sudden visitor.

“I am glad to see you alive. Worse comes to worst. Isn’t it?” Thomas joked as he secured the door.

“Right… this is hard to believe. What about father?” Allan said the first thing that came to his mind.

Thomas stumbled to his feet. Turning around to see a man in regular soldier leather armor with a released bow in his hand. Thomas was still a bit slower in closing the door. “Allan, you know, I used to be a really good mercenary,” he said to Allan as he turned around, to face his foe outside.

Taking his swords up against the charging man, who discarded his bow. Swinging his sword at his enemy, Thomas deflected the blow with his right sword and took a step forward. With a quick sweep, his left one slashed the throat of his opponent in one quick motion. The man fell to the ground with no defense left, or life. Only a gushing wound from his throat left a lot of blood around.

“Fuckers…” Thomas cursed as he staggered. Allan, stunned by the fine sword arts, couldn’t find a word to say. He watched as Thomas leaned to a side of a door. Closing it behind his back.

“We have been betrayed. Invaded and chances are grim. Not many are present from the military.” Thomas stuttered.

“Your father won’t come. Probably… I am not sure at the moment. He tasked me to give you a hand or two. Seems like I will give you my whole body. Heheheh.” Thomas bitterly laughed.

“What is going on, Thomas??” Allan finally found the courage to ask him.

“Boris is a fucking liar, piece of shit, and traitor of this kingdom! If what your father told me, should be right. I Can’t see it any other way. They have come from the northern shores. Traveled by sea or something…”

“Impossible! They have a much tougher sea than in the south! How could they? In this season?” Allan asked, in confusion.

“I did not ask them… Perhaps you could ask that fella over there.” Thomas pointed to the stairs behind Allan.

“He is dead,” Allan explained.

“I see… That is unfortunate… There is also something else. Boris is in cahoots with them. Somehow. Your father did not know it until the last moment. I found out from one soldier who was mad enough to explain some things to me. They are from the west off from the Northern nation. You get what it means… right?”

Allan fell speechless. “We are doomed?”

“Not necessarily. I have a friend in the capital… I wanted to take you there for your safety. Your father would want that, more than his own life. North is all gone by now, but I don’t have more information than that.” Thomas panted. His back floated with blood. An arrow from earlier hit him in a vital spot. A lung was pierced, so his voice was not the best.

Thomas' words reminded Allan of some conflicts he read about. Kingdom, located in the west. Neighboring the Grusha kingdom from the east, and above that, was the Northern nation. Almost 4 times larger than the kingdom of Grusha. Nation of the Dawn was its name. There were all kinds of rumors about this Nation.

Hundreds of years ago, they emerged victorious in many wars and made many deals and victories. Their hunger for territories was apparent. Alas, the surrounding nations and royal families came to a tacit understanding. They made an alliance to go against it. For the past decades, they did not begin any major wars.

“Thomas… Can I help you with something?” Asked Allan with teary eyes.

“Don’t make it dramatic. I don’t fear death. But… My promise to Clayton still stands. You need to be hard on yourself from now… Here… Take this.” Thomas says after tossing Allan a piece of paper from his pocket.

“W-what…”

“It is a map. Go through the mountain pass. It is a few kilometers from here. Try to reach the main city and reach out to my friend from the East district. Her name is Vanessa of Red. She has a well-known restaurant called Peacock Rooftop. Tell her about Thomas Thorn. She still… owns me something.” Thomas coughed.

“Damn. I hoped to die in a…”

“Thomas? Mister THOMAS!” Allan started to shake his shoulders. It came later, with an understanding and coming to a realization that Thomas was dead.

“He lost too much blood…” Allan tried to make it easier for himself, but nothing could help him.

“Screw these freaking wars for some territories!!! Fuck the Dawn…”

“F-father….” Allan felt stunned by this scene. In his hands was a friend as well as a teaching figure he knew for a long time since he was little. He never expected him to die to protect him. “Why father made you do this…” Allan gritted his teeth in unwillingness. He would rather see him be alive and escape by himself. Unfortunately, what has happened could never go back.

As he crouched down beside the dead Thomas, a sudden screaming of horror and anguish came from outside. Allan could notice thuds and howling sounds in the noises of people's screams. There was a sound of strange ways of a fight.

Allan was still in shock, but before he did anything, all noise ceased to exist. Thuds still sounded around the house, with huffing and something else… Too loud to be a small beast. It came to around Allan's house, where it stopped.

Taking a glance at the near window. Beast's enormous eyes were looking at him in crimson colors.

One hour before the main gate was attacked, Northeast of the city of Waan, In a governor's building.

There was a building system there was a military base built for the whole city and region. The training school was there as well. Boris Timber was a major patron and had some say in the deals of the local military. Clayton was there for teaching students that studied military-grade skills. Taking care of their equipment, potential problems, and more things that anyone would need to learn.

Today, Boris pursued him to teach a combat lesson to official military personnel. It took half of a day to get it all sorted out, so that quite worked. Though, Clayton wasn’t there alone at all. Boris contracted all major blacksmiths, mercenaries, and adventures to come here.

Clayton did not think something was fishy about this. Major cities had always some new recruits or even veterans who needed some additional training. Contractors were common to hire, but this time, the number of them was very high indeed. Clayton had some information that he already confirmed, but could not take full advantage of them. He was in a dilemma if he didn’t make a mistake or not regarding certain decisions.

After a while of combat lessons, it was his time for a blacksmithing lesson for the military-grade blacksmith of a higher level. They had their own building, where every contracted blacksmith was in charge of a few novices or intermediate-level blacksmiths.

Clayton was the same. Working through the techniques he deemed worthy to teach them or further improve their shortcomings. He was quick and, to a point, going on and on, like a machine. He was used to teaching his son and after today; it made it clear to realize that his son's level was above most of them.