“You may be wondering what’s the difference between a sword master and someone skilled with a sword? Well, sword masters typically aren’t as powerful as aura masters, but they are able to stand in a class of their own. One sword master is roughly equivalent of twenty men in battle. They boast of greater physical strength and reflexes than your typical swordsman, but there are a few legends among them. There was once a sword master who could cut down fifty men with every swing. Oh, and there was one who was said to split the flow of a river! Ah, and who could forget the legendary Tharris of Voskonia, who is said to still be fighting his lifelong rival Herrod atop the highest mountain peak in the world.”

-A sword master’s conversation with his first disciple

...

“Something strange has been happening recently, Yorrick.” My mentor, Pretlyn, spoke as any elderly aura master would, with a tone that makes him seem wise and observant when, in reality, it’s mostly paranoia and an overactive sense of danger. I suppose to live as long as he had, you’d need very sensitive instincts when it came to stuff like this.

“What isn’t strange these days?” I replied, yawning before continuing on, “Especially with sword masters being cut down by the dozens.”

I was exaggerating on the numbers, yes, but it may as well have been true.

Without counting wars and large scale battles, Argos has lost more sword masters in the span of a few days than anyone else.

The moon was shining brightly above the city as we “patrolled.”

Whoever trounced those sword masters was quite inconsiderate. As per the unwritten agreement with the merchant’s circle of Argos, we were expected to help shore up security. Which, when things were peaceful, was hardly a bother. Now, it was quite a troublesome task given that not many people could slaughter a handful of sword masters. There were even less who would be willing to do so while the city was on high alert, making the whole act of patrolling quite useless.

“You smell that?” Pretlyn went on.

I sniffed the air and found no peculiar scents polluting the wind.

“No,” I answered.

Then, just as I thought there was nothing, I caught a whiff of blood, odorous and pungent.

“Wait–”

Before I could finish, Pretlyn drew his sword and turned serious.

Along with the sound of steel leaving a scabbard, screams cut into the night as a massive commotion erupted.

“Come on!” Pretlyn lead the way into the direction of a fleeing crowd.

They ignored us and continued on without offering an explanation.

“Hey!” Pretyln grabbed one man by the arm as he brushed past.

“Let me go! There are monsters!”

“Monsters?” I repeated with confusion written on my face.

“Demons!” The man spoke incoherently as Pretlyn released him.

We watched the crowd disappear into the night as smoke began to rise in several places around the city.

“Come, Yorrick, let us see these so-called demons for ourselves,” Pretlyn moved quicker as we headed toward the source of trouble.

We turned a corner and what lay ahead was a sight to behold.

A pack of wolfish creatures that were twice the size of any normal man. And in the center, the apparent leader of the creatures who bore a grey coat of fur and a much larger and much more imposing physique.

In their hands were dismembered body parts of what I assumed were previously attached to the city guards. They turned their heads to look at us who were much smaller in comparison.

“Reva,” One of them released a heavy growl as it hunkered forward.

“No, I want these two,” The grey one spoke, its beastly maw seemed to curl into a grin.

The other beasts jumped away with incredible power given the muscle-bound physiques they were equipped with. I would've expected them to be slower and stronger instead of showcasing frightening levels of agility.

I looked over to my mentor and could see Pretlyn was presumably just as stunned as me by the beasts speaking our language with ease.

“What are you?” Pretlyn asked while raising his sword, sending a brief glance to me.

It was only then did I fumble around for my sword, drawing it awkwardly. I was not ashamed that I had been thoroughly shaken by the appearance of the nightmarish creature before me. It seemed as if man and beast had become one. Except, it wore pieces of leather armor over its body.

“There is a saying in the city of Ir’rah. ‘The weak can only ask questions while the strong will receive answers.’ Do not question me, human. If you want answers, you have to take them,” The beast replied with pure arrogance and contempt.

“City of Ir’rah?” I muttered unconsciously, recalling the myth shared by the occasional traveler.

It was used as a tale to scare children mostly, but seeing the beast in front of me. I wonder if–

“Yorrick!” Pretlyn’s shout woke me up as I suddenly found my body tumbling away.

“What–” I was stunned by the sight of my mentor standing in front of me without an arm.

“Do you think I am so worthless that you can fall into idle thought, human?” The beast held Pretlyn’s arm in its claws.

“Wise up, Yorrick,” Pretlyn kept his composure, rousing me from my surprise.

“But-”

“As long as my sword arm remains, I won’t die so easy–”

With a blur of grey, I suddenly saw Pretlyn’s head fall in front of me. His unfocused eyes twitched slightly before falling still. His mouth was ajar as if he was lingering on a word that he couldn’t get out.

I don’t know what happened. One moment he was there, the next, he had simply lost his head. I felt my body trembling uncontrollably as I looked at the beast.

“I tried to face you with the respect shown to warriors, but my warnings fell on deaf ears,” It snickered with a harsh tone, “I am Reva of clan Greymoon, remember me.”

It lunged toward me, turning into a grayish blotch that evaded my sight before I felt numbness overtake me. My vision darkened as my thoughts muddled.

‘Have I died?’ It was a question I don’t think I’d ever get to ask.