by V. A. Lewis
"And how will us being here help that?" I asked. "Will you… destroy their cities? Or just occupy them with your armies? Because I don’t think doing either of those here helps, since the Holy Xan Empire is in another continent, and they’re the ones in charge of the Church."
"Hrmph, of course not. No, it won’t help at all. Mindless destruction would not support our cause at all. But neither does self destructive peace. We’ve learned from our predecessors. We will simply do what is necessary to perpetuate our survival."
The Dark Commander strode over to the map laid open on the table. He pointed at a spot on the map, as I tiptoed to see it.
"At the mouth of this valley here, lies a fortress called Fort Conon. It belongs to the Chalstics Confederacy, and it holds a strategic position, serving as an entryway into the ‘country’. Unlike the other Free Cities, the cities in the Chalstics are united, and as such, merchants, travellers, or— because of recent events— refugees, will have to cross through this checkpoint and pay a toll if they want to enter the region."
"And what are you guys going to do?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Raid their armory for weapons? Steal their gold?"
"We are going to take it," he said, voice steadfast.
"Take it? But why?" It was a stupid question; the answer was obvious, but I still felt the need to ask it.
"For supplies. We will take whatever weaponry and armor from soldiers in the fort. We will take the gold and cargo from anyone passing through. And because of the valley separating us and the rest of the Chalstics, it will be weeks before any reinforcements are sent to take back the fort. And by the time that happens, we will be gone."
"But that’s… stealing," "I stated the obvious. "You’ll be robbing those innocent people!"
"Yes." Gerrit nodded. "But we will not be killing them. Not unless it’s necessary."
I wanted to object to this. Stealing is wrong! I thought to myself.
And yet, I stole from that Alchemist just last night. I stole from that fruit vendor weeks ago. But I did it to survive! I tried to argue with myself, but the same thing could be said for the Dark Crusaders.
"But… why do you need their gold?" I asked weakly. "Why do you need to take their… livelihood."
"For the same reason they, themselves, need it. We, too, need money to survive. We need the funding. The equipment. And the supplies. Even though we’re recognized as a terrorist organization by the Church, that does not mean everyone shuns us. As you said, the Holy Xan Empire is in another continent. Plus, the fact that gangs and other criminal groups exist proves not everyone follows the law. That includes countries, companies, and influential people. That is why we need the money— to gain allies."
"I… but—" There were many things I wanted to say. But I said none of it. And yet, Gerritt read it all from my expression.
"I’m sorry, Melas," he apologized gently. He met my eyes slowly and held my gaze. "But the world is cruel. I know you understand this as much as anyone else. If it wasn’t cruel, the Dark Crusaders wouldn’t even need to exist. And neither would you be here right now.
"But we do exist, and you’re here too. So we have to do what we must: to protect people like you. Even if we don’t like it, even if we must compromise our personal values. We have to do what is necessary."
I understood what he was saying— I even knew it was true. Slowly, gently, he took my hand and led me out of the tent.
"But please do not concern yourself with this. You are but a child. Come, there is food waiting for you outside."
And I followed him, but I was not hungry anymore.
Ok, I lied.
I was still incredibly hungry. Ravenously so. Food was good, and I liked food. So I ate a lot of food.
"Meat! Actual meat! And it’s even seasoned!"
I devoured the deer leg like an animal. I quickly went through everything but the bone, and moved on to the fruits on the side. I did not dislike fruits and veggies— in fact, I’d say I liked them. But it had been such a long time since I ate meat with any actual flavor, and it tasted so good!
So I finished the meal, and almost let out a loud burp. I caught myself, of course. I had manners. Both from my previous life, and from my mom who taught me how to behave like a proper lady. I’m a Duke’s daughter’s daughter after all! I lied to myself.
I got up, and looked around the camp. We were already packing up; we were leaving in about an hour, since we were trying to get to Fort Conon as soon as possible now, so we were taking a forced march.
I did not have to do anything; Gerritt forbade me from even leaving the camp after what happened. I reached for my satchel, rummaging through it for a book to read. I felt the touch of something leathery, and grabbed for it, thinking it was one of the grimoires Victor gave me—
And I pulled out a sheathed dagger.
I stared at the weapon on my hand. This is… Karna’s dagger. I forgot he gave it to me earlier. I kept it in my bag once we escaped, but I still had it.
I pulled it out of its case.
It was not an ornate dagger, but it looked elegant nonetheless. It was light gray in color, with a bronze hilt and crossguard. The blade was over a foot long, curving slightly back from the center onwards. It was finely crafted— and, according to Karna, it had some sort of sharpness enchantment on it. I wanted to test it out, so I picked up the remaining bone from my meal, and gently pushed into it.
I watched in awe as the dagger sunk into the bone with little effort. That was sharp. It was not like cutting through butter with a hot knife, but it certainly was comparable. I… did not feel safe using it, so I cautiously placed it back inside its sheathe. Don’t want to lose a thumb or something.
Plus, it was not mine. Karna lent it to me, however I doubted he meant to give it to me permanently. So I grabbed the dagger in its case, hefted my bag around my shoulders, and searched for the Goblin.
I already had a reason to see him in the first place. I had to thank him for sticking up for me— for what he told Gerritt. That was nice of him. I might as well have accomplished two things at once.
I was directed to his tent after a couple of minutes; it did not take long to get there, since the camp was pretty small. I was about to enter it, when the flaps opened up, and someone exited it.
He was a Goblin, of course. I recognized him. He was the other one with us last night— the one who waited for me when we first left the camp.
"Hey, uh… Ibsum?" I guessed
"Close. But, no." The Goblin grinned at me. "Want to give it another try?"
"Oh, um… I don’t know? Sorry, I never got your name." I waved my hand apologetically.
The Goblin looked at me, offended. "What? Even after all we went through last night? I’m hurt. Hurt!" He placed a hand on his chest exaggeratedly, and turned his head away from me; but I caught him giving him peeking over at me a few times. I just stared at him.
"Aw, no reaction?" he said, dejected. "Come on, not even a little smirk?"
"That was a joke?" I asked, straightfaced. This time, he actually looked hurt by that quip. I felt myself smiling a bit as I quickly reassured him. "I’m kidding! It was amusing. And I totally did not expect that from... anyone here."
The Goblin’s face did a 180 as he brightened up. "Did not expect what? A sense of humor? Of course not— most everyone here are stuckups." He put a hand out and smiled. "The name’s Ihsan."
I took his hand. "Melas."
"Did I do that right?" he asked, letting go of my hand. "It’s a Human’s greeting— one which I’m not used to. Us Goblins are much more formal than that. Which makes a lot of these assholes like Karna so uptight."
"Uh…"
"I’m kidding, obviously," Ihsan said with a wink. "So did you need something?"
"Yes. Is Karna inside?" I gestured at the tent. "I was hoping to return this to him. He gave it to me last night." I lifted up the dagger slightly.
"Last night, huh? Holy Hell, that was a mess. I still can’t believe we got out o
f there. Sure, he’s inside. But not in a good mood— which means he’s his usual irate self."
"Can I come in?" I asked politely.
"Go ahead. But I’m not going in with you. He’s probably heard me badmouthing him for the last five minutes." Ihsan shook his head. "If he sees me, he’ll probably take that dagger and stab me with it."
I smiled slightly at the joke. He backed up, and started walking away from the tent.
"Well then, it was a pleasure to finally meet you, Melas."
"Likewise."
"See ya around. And try not to get stabbed." He waved goodbye, and headed off.
I entered the tent, and found who I was looking for. I stood at the entrance, as Karna barely glanced up at me. "May I come in?"
He responded with a grunt, which I assumed meant ‘yes’; he was sitting on his bedroll, and I walked into the room and stopped a few feet in front of him.
"...what do you want?" he asked briskly.
"I just wanted to check up on you. See how you’re doing. Are you… feeling ok?" I awkwardly motioned at his chest. "Any problems or anything?"
He nodded stiffly. "No problems. The healing potion closed all my wounds, and healed everything both internally, and on the outside."
"That’s good," I stated the obvious.
He nodded again in response, and we stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before we both spoke up at the same time.
"Hey, this is—"
"I don’t have to—"
We both paused, and he shifted in his seat. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, uncertain whether he should speak first.
"Go ahead. You first," I quickly said.
Karna paused for a second, then muttered under his breath. "I’m completely fine. I don’t actually have to rest. The Commander is making me do this, because he’s afraid overexerting myself would reopen the injuries. But as I said, the potion was incredibly potent. So that won’t happen."
I could not tell if he was trying to act tough or if he actually believed that; I barely knew him, but he seemed quite proud of himself from what I had seen so far. I tried not to furrow my brows. "How do you know that?"
The Goblin raised a hand to his chest, and pulled down his shirt slightly. He touched just to the right of where I assumed his heart was.
"The first bolt barely missed my heart. Right in the center of my chest. The second, punctured my lungs. I couldn’t breathe, and I was bleeding out. I wasn’t just dying, I was on the cusp of death. The third should’ve left me for dead, yet the potion brought me back. That’s how I know I’m fine. Because if anything was wrong, I’d be dead right now."
"That makes sense."
"Plus," he said, as he poked his chest. "The flesh here isn’t soft, see? Regular healing potions would leave your skin weak and frail for a day or two. But here it’s like nothing ever even happened."
I watched as he switched from a finger, to thumping his chest with a fist. There was a solid noise as he impacted himself; probably due to the Goblin’s rougher skin. I smiled slightly, as Karna turned back to me.
"...thank you."
I blinked. "What?"
"I said thank you," he spoke softly. His gaze swept over to the left side of my face. "For saving my life. Even after the way I treated you. I haven't thanked you for it."
"Oh,"— I twirled my hair uncomfortably— "it’s no problem at all. I mean, I should thank you as well. I heard what you told Gerritt. You saved me from getting scolded more." I tried to change the subject.
"I did nothing but speak the truth."
"Well, the truth really helps sometimes."
The Goblin nodded in agreement. Then there was another moment of silence with him glancing at the symbol on my eye. It made me want to touch it.
I saw a reflection of myself earlier; the few drops of healing potion was not completely ineffective. It did not entirely remove the mark from my face like I hoped it would, but it did make it seem more translucent. However, it was still visible to the naked eye.
I fought against the feeling. And instead, I reached for my belt.
"Here. This is yours, right?" I held out the sheathed dagger to him. "Thanks for lending it to me."
He eyed the dagger with his luminescent gaze, then shrugged. "Keep it. I don’t need it," he said.
"Are you sure?" I asked, lifting a brow.
"Yes. You don’t have a weapon, right? It’s yours."
"But I don’t know how to use it," I insisted.
Karna sighed, then rose to his feet. He reached for the dagger on my outstretched hand—
Then pushed it back to my chest.
"If you don’t know how to use a dagger, then you just have to learn. Come,"— the Goblin strode past me, out of the tent— "I’ll teach you."
"Wait, really?"
"Yes. I am indebted to you. And, I’m tired of sitting around doing nothing. Now follow me."
I obliged.
Karna led me out of the tent, and into an open area. We were still inside of the camp, but there was a small clearing that was mostly flat which I found myself in. He turned around and faced me.
"Show me what you’ve got. Try and hit me with your dagger," he ordered.
I narrowed my eyes. "You want me to use this"— I waved the dagger up— "to attack you?"
He grunted in affirmation. "Yes."
"Isn’t that dangerous? Can’t I… hurt you?"
"You can. But that won’t happen." The Goblin flashed his teeth at me, grinning confidently.
"If you say so," I said uncertainly.
I drew the dagger, and charged at Karna. He was just standing still. I raised my hand up in the air, slashing sideways—
And I found myself on the ground, hands held behind my back, and the flat of my blade pressed on against my neck.
"W-what happened?"
The Goblin let go of me, and I sprawled myself onto the ground. "You were too slow. Swung too wide. Lots of opening in your attack. Easy to see how to dodge— easy to see how to counter."
I flopped over to my back, staring up at him, slowly registering his words. "H-huh?"
He was tossing the gray blade up in the air casually; he caught it, sheathed it in its case, then sighed. "Let’s start with the basics. Firstly, you’re overextending when you swing. Your feet and your arms have to stay connected. Move in one swift motion, like this."
Karna demonstrated a simple stab. He thrusted the dagger forward, taking a step as he did. He did it slowly, and a little bit exaggeratedly; but that was so I could see what he was doing. "Now you try," he said, as he handed me the dagger hilt first.
"Like this?" I tried copying what he did.
"No. Your body is too stiff. You need to be more loose. Like so."
"How about this?"
"That’s not loose. That’s lazy. Try again."
"This?" I looked at the Goblin hopefully.
He raised a palm to his forehead, and exhaled deeply.
"This is going to be a long day."
After an hour, I was bent over, hands on my knees, gasping and panting for air. But it was not over.
"Again. Try and hit me."
My gaze flickered up to the Goblin standing before me. I straightened, raised both hands up, and slowly started circling him. He stood there, unmoving. Once I was behind him, I took a step forward, and stabbed.
Karna moved his head to the side easily, dodging the attack. He twirled around to face me, as I sidestepped around him. I swung at his neck, his arms, his chest—
And he evaded it all. He backed up slowly, ducking his head, bobbing and weaving, skirting past the constant assault as the gray edge narrowly missed him each time.
It wasn’t like I was almost hitting him. That was far from the truth. The Goblin was waiting till the very last moment to dodge the attack because it was that easy for him.
Which was frustrating for me.
I loaded up a swing, and slashed diagonally at Karna. His eyes flashed. He saw me pulling back before
the attack, dragging my feet forward. He went under the swing.
In one swift motion, he moved laterally around me, and found my back. I spun the dagger around in my hand, reversing the grip. I pulled back, stabbing at his face.
Karna just leaned back slightly, letting the dagger narrowly miss him once again. Then he headbutted me.
"Ouch!" I yelped as I fell on my knees. "That hurts!"
"That’s the point," he said. "You made another mistake."
"Really? I thought I was doing so well this time. Especially towards the end."
"Redirecting your momentum and switching grips to quickly attack me when I went behind you was indeed commendable. However, it should not have been necessary. Your mistake came just before that. You got annoyed that you couldn’t hit me, and you overstepped. You put too much weight into your swing, allowing me to get past your guard and into a blind spot."
I frowned. "But that’s just one mistake!"
"And one mistake could cost you your life, Melas," Karna replied instantly. "You want to be able to defend yourself, don’t you?"
"But— I mean…" I sighed, because I knew he was telling the truth. "Yeah, you’re right. I do."
The Goblin eyed my disheartened expression uneasily. He took a deep breath, then continued. "However, it’s been an hour. I am sure your exhaustion from doing this— and from last night— probably factored into your sloppiness."
"S-sloppy?! Come on, I’m not that bad at this... am I?"
"You are… not bad." I brightened up briefly, before being shut down by what he said next. "I think."
"You think? What does that mean?!"
Karna shrugged. "For a Goblin at your age, you’re absolutely terrible. However, you’re a Human child. I assume what you’ve shown me is considered good for one of those."
I stared at him aghast. "So if someone attacks me, and I’m forced to fight them off with what I’ve shown you, what happens then?"
"They’ll kill you, of course," he answered honestly. "Any trained fighter— or maybe even an untrained fighter— would be able to take you on without a problem. You’re too slow. Too physically weak to put up a fight."
"Then what was the point of doing all this?" I groaned.
