Knowing your enemy is only half of the battle. The other half is knowing yourself. If you know yourself and your enemy, then that means you know a lot. And knowing a lot is also half of the battle. For you should know everything about the battle. But that is only half of the battle. For the true meaning of the battle is winning it.

Where was I? I don’t really understand what I’m saying.

Just go into battle without knowing anything! If you win, you take all the glory. If you lose, you can just say you did not know anything. They can’t fault you for that. How dare they put an incompetent at the head of the army?

Just kidding. We’re going to win this battle. I’m going to lead the charge tomorrow.

General Gramatton Johnson during the Council of War before the Siege of Bhastalle

(Imperial Records on Accounts of the Unification Wars)

Two dragon hands covered in uniform triangular scales, each scale curving pointedly upwards, bristling, grasped an orb that fit snugly between the hands. The claws curved around the ball, they were long and narrow, almost as long as each finger.

Apparently, that’s the seal of the Dragon Emperor. Aya had seen it quite a few times in the establishments that he has visited.

Emelie was so happy at the progress of her brother that she gave Aya some money in addition to his accommodation. She probably thought of him as some kind of warrior who fell out of grace and became a wandering bum. It doesn’t matter what she thinks of him, what matters was that he has money to spend on all the exotic foods in Krysperium.

The Bulbuous Dragon- that was the name of the café he was in. The name does not sound really appealing, but adding ‘dragon’ to the names of shops and restaurants appeared to be a trend. The ‘bulbuous’ in the name referred to the carnivorous plant Bulboao. Several vines of the plant hung around the café. These plants were fed certain types of meat, which they digest and add in their juices. Groof’s milk was added into the mixture inside the bulb of the plant.

And then it was poured and served.

It really did not sound appealing, Aya thought. But, food is food- that included this weird whatever mixture this turns out to be.

It wasn’t all that bad. Some kind of protein shake. Aya looked around the café and observed that most of the customers are well-built, even the women. Pretty interesting drink. It has a wild earthy flavor that made one tingly all over.

“I wonder how this drink was first created,” Aya said. “The person who invented this probably was a not a normal person.”

He looked once again at the Seal of the Dragon that was carved into the door of the café. The dragon hands were really crafted well.

“Bristlemane Dragon. I really liked that one. A good all-rounder.”

He stooped low and took out a book from his basket. It was all about symbols and artifacts connected to the First Emperor. Emelie was only too pleased to let him borrow the book. She was excited that he was willing to learn more about the Dragon Emperor. He flipped to the page where he has last read.

“The object grasped between the claws of the Emperor is called the Orb of Perdition, eternal prison of thousands of corrupted elemental spirits,” he read. He gazed up from his book and glanced at the carving on the door while tilting his head. “Meh, it was Rebecca who sealed most of them there anyway. I just borrowed that thing from her ‘cause I can’t detect any elemental essence before.”

He grasped the mug containing the liquid from the Bulboao plant and drank it. He shivered a bit as he felt the hot burning sensation of the liquid running down his throat.

“Where was I,” he said while scanning the book. It contained a list of notable demons and lesser demon spirits trapped inside the orb. He knew a few of them. They were a rowdy bunch. He looked up and scratched his chin. Whatever happened to all of those demons trapped inside the Orb? He was sure it was destroyed before he died. Or thought he died.

“The orb is made from crystallized residue of pure mana bursting forth from the earth. This deposit is called “Worldheart”, and is ranked among the rarest and most valuable minerals in the world. The deposit builds up over thousands of years at the mouth of mana nodes.” He smiled and nodded while he read that passage. Impressive that they got that right. The Worldheart was the by-product of collisions of elemental essences deep within the core of the earth. They just get spat out from mana nodes.

“The Dragon Emperor braved the perils beneath the earth to journey towards the mouth of the mana node where the deposits are found and gathered these precious minerals to make the prison orb for all demonkind.”

He could barely stifle his laughter. The muscular customers of the café looked at him with disapproval. They needed the atmosphere to be relaxed so that the effects of the Bulboao juice could properly work on their physique.

Tears were formed at the sides of his eyes. It was just hilarious. The authors of the book had some misconception about the mana node. Just walk up to the mouth of the mana node? What did they think it was? Some kind of fountain?

The mouth, where the deposits were found, was usually several kilometers below the ground. And one does not walk up to the mouth of a mana node, especially the one where the capital city sat on top of. It was the biggest mana node on the continent, at least a thousand times bigger than the others.

He still had a smile on his face as he sipped his drink. It was a hard process, he remembered. It was very hard to connect the defences of the city to the energy expended by the node. Obviously, he did not even attempt to try to get close to it. The stream of energies from the belly of the earth would rip his bones away from his flesh and then grind his bones to dust. Not a very good way to die.

He continued reading on. “Several fragments of the Orb were recovered from the site of the last battle of our noble Dragon Emperor by the imperial knights who braved the harsh conditions of the corrupted lands of the Blight. Most of this pieces are now in the treasury of the Royal Palace, while others have been incorporated into legendary weapons and armor.

“The Empire has been most secretive about the locations of the recovered fragments of the Orb of Perdition. However, one of these treasures is possessed openly by the Church of the Dragon. The Dragon’s Heart Orb is conferred on the current bishop of the Church…”

Aya loudly snapped his fingers earning him look from the other customers again. “Oh, so that’s why that orb felt familiar. That was a really annoying service though.”

He sniggered when the priests were chanting ancient prayers. What they thought were ancient prayers. Those were actually the advanced controls for the citysigil. He remembered he left a scroll of it somewhere. He also gave a copy of it to Clement when the latter took over the control of the crux rune. They probably found it and thought it was a prayer of some sort. It won’t work for them since they were not void mages.

He grabbed his mug and downed the last of its contents. Not that great a drink, actually. It was probably more of a health thing that attracted many customers to this café. He stood and while reading the last paragraph of the book on the Orb of Perdition.

“The Dragon’s Heart is brought out during church service by the bishop. If not in use, it is heavily guarded and stored in the temple…”

A sneer curved on his face. Well, he would know the best place to hide stuff in his own house.

“Captain,Sir!” A soldier saluted to his superior. “We have searched the entire town and the surrounding forest. No sign of the…thing… that did this. All the townspeople and our convoy that was en route to the West System are all dead, except one.”

The captain turned to him and raised one brow. “There’s a survivor?”

“Yes, sir! A manforger that came with the convoy.”

“How is he still alive?”

“Sir, he had a special shield with him. It looks like it can erase the presence of people, it was also very sturdy. I reckon he kept repairing his shield and just hid during the volley of the spikes that killed the people.”

“Very good, we have a witness.” The captain adjusted his armor and sword by his side. He gestured towards the other soldiers to come with him. “Let us go and question him to shed light to what transpired here.”

“Er…sir…the manaforger is a bit incoherent right now. The shock from the attack affected his mind. The healers are working on him now.”

The captain just shrugged his shoulders that were covered in overlapping pieces of metal. “Well, we can’t do anything about that. I still want to see his condition.”

The young soldier jogged to catch up to his captain. “Sir, there’s also another matter. We can’t find most of the soldiers that were having a stopover in this town.”

“What?” The captain stopped. “Well then how can you say that they are all dead?

“Sir, from the logs of previous convoys that uses this route they usually stay in the town hall. The scryers have examined the town hall and the nearby buildings and confirmed that the soldiers had made a stand there and most probably died there. The scryers reckon the monster probably consumed their bodies. Same with most of the town guards. The only bodies of the soldiers that we can find are those that were impaled far from the town hall.”

“Is that so?” The captain heaved a heavy sigh. The young soldier can see that his captain was bothered. Perhaps he knew someone in the convoy? The soldiers all chose to keep quite. They also felt sadness for their comrades in arms that died, and for all the people in the town.

“How about the specialized troops accompanying them?”

“We can only find the bodies of one beast master, one fire mage, and the three scryers.”

“They had scryers. Why did they not send out a distress call?” the captain asked.

“Sir, the fire mage and the scryers, along with some officers, were dining in the mayor’s mansion when the attack begun. The monster did not destroy the walls to enter the city but it jumped over it and landed on the mayor’s mansion, killing everyone inside in an instant. Due to its enormous size, it was able to land on the mayor’s mansion from outside the city in just one leap. I doubt the scyers even knew they were dead.”

Another soldier who was following the captain couldn’t keep quite. “What? It’s like it really intended to kill everyone here! It’s not just some passing dumb beast.”

“Yes, someone probably controlled that beast. That is a possibility. Anyway, there are no beasts around here that could do this much damage.”

“Sir?” The soldiers all had questioning looks in their faces.

They entered the ruined town. Dozens of soldiers were already inside, scouring through the wreckage. There were also mages flying this way and that. Mages on the ground were levitating withered bodies and gathering them in the open space by the entrance to the town. Everyone took care not to touch the bodies, or the black spikes that were scattered around.

A man wearing grey cloak was crouching low, examining one of the bodies. He had a full white beard and a metal band covering his face with no slits for eyeholes. A scryer.

The scryer stood up and logged his findings into an orb his attendant was holding before coming to meet them.

“Scryer Soldal,” the captain said while giving a slight bow. All of the soldiers followed suit. The scryers are not entirely part of the army, they are somewhere in between the army and the Church. Most scryers are also priests, since society reveres their powers of being able to connect intimately with the world.

“Captain Corin.” The old scryer acknowledged their presence. The eye seal etched on his metal mask glowed blue. The soldiers crowded behind their captain to hear what the scryer had to say. “A sample of the black spikes that bombarded the town was sent to the West System for extensive analysis.”

“When could we expect to see the results?”

“It was sent four hours ago, when we first discovered that this town was attacked after sending out a search party to find the scryers from the convoy that stopped here did not send their daily reports on time. We should expect them anytime now.”

The captain was surprised. “Surely they are not that fast in analysing the item?”

“That item does not even need to be analysed to know what went through here,” Scryer Soldal replied enigmatically, with a sad smile on his face. Before the captain can ask another question, the scryer raised his hand to quite them and tilted his head, as if listening intently to something. “They are coming.”

The air shimmered for a bit before the space was distorted. A portal slowly began opening near the soldiers and the scryer. Out stepped more soldiers wearing black leather armor and thick black clothes. A silver tahlran insignia was emblazoned on their backs.

They saw the old scryer and also greeted him with a bow.

The leader of the soldiers who had just teleported in, a short but muscular middle aged man with no facial hair, extended his hand towards the captain. “Captain Corin, I see you have been doing well. A pity that we were only able to meet again due to this sad event.”

Captain Corin accepted his hand. “Captain Mar. It is indeed an unhappy situation that befalls Krysperia.”

There was a subtle vacuuming sound as the portal slowly collapsed upon itself and normal space returned.

“Good thing they allowed us to use the Gate in West System. I wanted to come to the site myself rather than to send a message via a scryer.”

“What news do you bring to us?”

“Not a good one… it’s the Blight.” Captain Mar was shaking his head.

The soldiers around Corin gasped. How can that be? Krysperia has been clean for the last few hundred years. Not one creature of abomination has breached the West System? Did the legendary defensive works fail?

“No, no, there’s no hole in West Sytem,” Mar said, as if reading their thoughts. “We were a bit late in getting here because the whole System was placed in lockdown by the Lord Devastator Knight. We had to make sure that there was no breach.”

The captain has an incredulous look on his face. “If the System has not been breached, then how did a Blight creature get here? Are you sure it’s a Blight Creature.”

The old scryer joined in their conversation. “I have seen those black spikes before, and what they can do. I used to be station at the West System and was assigned for some time on duty defending the first wall. Death Sprinklers… that’s what they were called.”

Captain Mar was amazed that the scyer actually fought the Blight before. “Yes, Death Sprinklers. They are very large, reaching fifty meters in height, sometimes more. They breed snake-like Blight creatures in their backs.” Mar pointed to one of the corpses having a black spike sticking out of its head. “Those things. Death Sprinklers release them and they stiffen and impale, sucking the life out of those that didn’t die from being hit.”

The soldiers around Corin had a worried look on their faces, quite understandably so. Captain Corin clenched his jaw and closed his eyes as he realized the implications of having a Blight creature walking around Krysperia.

“Did someone sneak it in?” A young soldier blurted out.

“That is a possibility,” Captain Mar grimly said. “This is a very serious situation. That’s probably why he is here.”

The soldiers once again gasped as they followed the line of sight of Captain Mar. Standing on top of one of the few building in the town that did not collapse was a giant metallic man.

A headless armor.

A Devastator Knight.

“Is he the Lord Devastator Knight from West System?” Corin asked, his voice low, as if he was trying not to disturb the unmoving metal hulk. He was surprised that he didn’t notice the Devastator Knight when they entered the town. It would probably be more surprising if he noticed the Knight if that didn’t want to be noticed.

“That’s Lord Jaguar, a roving Devastator Knight,” Scryer Soldal said. “The lord was probably here since the reports came in of the tragedy that befell this town. I only sensed his presence a moment ago. He was probably standing there all along, in plain view.”

“Our Lord in West System is still raging there. He was very angry that a Blight creature got behind the System without anyone knowing. A fifty meter creature at that.” Mar chuckled. “He was blasting all our minds with his raging rants about incompetence. The entire System can hear his telepathic rage. It was also one of the reasons that I wanted to be teleported here. All of us are having headaches from the screams of our dear lord.

“Make no mistake though. Our Lord Devastator Knight in the West System is probably the most competent commander of the defensive works since it was constructed. During his tenure, for the last twenty years, no Blight incursion has gotten past the first wall.”

Laughter filled their minds. All of them were stunned.

In their midst appeared the Devastator Knight. The one of the most powerful warriors of the Empire, towered above all of them. He barely gave off any presence. Corin had the impression that he was standing there after they saw him on top of the building. It was like he can see him but the brain doesn’t recognize his presence, just like seeing your own nose.

“That Marcus sure is hot tempered, but he gets the job done,” the voice boomed in their minds.

The scryer was the first to recover and bowed low. “My Lord Jaguar, it is an honor to be in your presence.”

The others snapped out of their daze, knelt on one knee and bowed their heads.

“A Blight creature behind the West System. My, my, my. This is indeed a serious crisis.” The Devastator Knight walked towards one of the corpses and yanked out a black spike. It immediately pulsed and sent out dozens of tendrils, but with a spark of lightning from the massive fist of Lord Jaguar, it turned to dust.

He looked towards Captain Corin, at least Corin assumed he did, for the bodies of Devastator Knights don’t have heads.

“Cleanse this place. Keep tabs and burn every. I’m going Death Sprinkler hunting,” Lord Jaguar ordered.

“But the evidence, and the bodies…” Corin managed to stammer out.

“Burn every. I already have what I need.”

As if swept by the gust of the wind, the Devastator Knight disappeared.

Short black hair that swept to the left. Almond shaped black eyes. His features couldn’t be more Roghinian. Slightly squared chin, high cheekbones. Perhaps he really was Roghinian?

Bhorg was looking at the one calling himself, BasketSlayer, a self-proclaimed Roghinian warrior. He was not hiding; surely, the black-robed man would have noticed him anyway. He didn't want to show any hostile intentions so he refrained from using any magic.

Bhorg narrowed his eyes. This BasketSlayer was probably Roghinian-not a warrior,obviously- some other caste. A warrior would have grooves cut into their skin to regulate the flow of special mana they are infused with. Bhorg could feel the cuts on his face and running all over his body. It has been nearly twenty years since he had completed the full set of tattoos a Roghinian warrior should have.

A Roghinian that fled the homeland? It was possible that this BasketSlayer left the kingdom when he was still a child, or an infant, and was trained in the martial skills of another place.

A number of Roghinians fled the kingdom when the warrior caste fought against the priest caste to topple them. It was a civil war…and they were nearing another one, just twenty odd years after. Bhorg slowly shook his head. Roghinians were too clancentric to actually be governed by a single ruler. If the ruler comes from one clan, they others would try their best to have him replaced.

He focused on watching the impostor Roghinian. The black robed man was buying a rough brown hooded cloak. It matched the cloak that most of the pilgrims wore. He looks like he is as old as Ethani, Bhorg observed. Ethani was but a child when the priests were exiled from the Kingdom. Perhaps this BasketSlayer was also an infant when his family fled Roghinia. A plausible explanation.

If this man lived in Roghinia, he would already have a high position among the warriors despite his young age, given his strength. He looked about the same age as Ethani. But Bhorg wouldn’t be too surprised with that. Lady Lantana became the youngest council member of the clan in history when she was just sixteen, after she received the first set of tattoos. No doubt, this impostor would not last a few seconds against Lady Lantana.

Bhorg couldn't feel any aura of aggression or danger from the black robed man. He has met several warriors who were concealing how powerful they were; he always knew they were hiding their powers even if he couldn't feel it. Call it a warrior’s intuition.

But he cannot feel anything from this person. The BasketSlayer was lean, not overly muscular. No battle scars visible, his face does not look like it has seen the horrors of battle. His face looks plain, at least to a Roghinian. In a foreign kingdom, black hairs and black eyes stood out. But if he was in Roghinia, he would be quite unnoticeable in a crowd. He talked to the vendors in a carefree way. He looked as if he doesn’t have any care in the world. The BasketSlayer draped the brown cloak he bought and picked up his muffin filled basket.

Bhorg was confused. This was a different person than the one who directed killing intent at Ethani and him.

The massive Roghinian warrior followed him. The BasketSlayer was leisurely walking down the streets, eating muffins from his basket. Bhorg quietly tailed him. He knew that his presence was known, he kept a respectful few meters away.

The BasketSlayer ate the muffins one by one, stopping once by a food cart that sold some kind of orange liquid. Bhorg patiently waited until and continued following while keeping his distance.

The BasketSlayer picked up the last piece of muffin from his basket. He took a last swig from his bottle of orange liquid and entered a narrow allow. As Bhorg was about to enter the alley, he stopped as he noticed something familiar. His cheek twitched a little.

“Huh, this alley…” Bhorg recognized the alley. It was where Ethani and Bhorg retreated to after they were detected by the BasketSlayer during their surveillance. A rare smile flashed subtly across Bhorg’s rugged face. “BasketSlayer, you seem to be a humorous person.”

Bhorg entered the alley.

He saw the BasketSlayer folding the brown cloak he bought. The folded cloak was set down on the far corner of the alley. The BasketSlayer placed the empty basket on top of it and the empty bottle by it side, he then walked back to meet Bhorg in the middle of the passage.

“Sorry I took a long time to finish all of the muffins. I really wanted to eat them all before doing some serious business,” the BasketSlayer said amiably. He looked up at the towering Bhorg. It looked like someone closed off the alley with a tall cement wall.

Bhorg slowly removed the hood that covered half his face. Even in the shadows cast by the tall buildings beside the ally, the tattoos were quite noticeable.

“Oh. A real Roghinian.” The black robed man pursed his lips and squinted his eyes at the tattoos. “Damn, I didn’t know they looked like that. The books said nothing about them being hereditary runes.”

Bhorg was amazed. “You know of hereditary runes?”

“A bit,” BasketSlayer replied. He placed his palms together in front of him and bowed. “I’m really sorry for pretending to be Roghinian. The people around me assumed I was one and I kind of just went along with it.”

It was not the reaction that Bhorg was expecting. He did not know how to proceed. “But you do look like a Roghinian…”

“Really? Thank you. I don’t think I have heard about Roghinia when I was a child though.”

So he was not born in Roghinia. “Perhaps you were just an infant that fled with your family during the civil war more than two decades ago in Roghinia.”

The BasketSlayer shook his head. “Nope, I was born quite far from here actually. I don't know about my parents, but I doubt they were Roghinains. I was born near the other edge of the continent. So what can I do for you Mr…?”

“You can call me Bhorg, just Bhorg.” He stepped forward and extended his hand; palm the size of a dinner plate. “And you are?”

“My real name is Aya.” He accepted the hand of Bhorg. “Yeah, I know it sounds like a girl’s name. It was the name my master gave to me when I was a child. I could hardly do anything about that then.”

The muscles on Bhorg’s thick pole-like forearms flexed, veins popped like roots threading his heavily tattooed arm. He proceeded to exert force on his handshake. It can hardly be called a handshake. Bhorgs hand completely enclosed Aya’s hand. He squeezed the relatively puny hand of Aya with enough force to pulverize a rock.

Aya just smiled up at him. Bhorg pressed harder, his runes started glowing faintly. He could feel the fingers and the palm of Aya covered by his hand, but he couldn’t squeeze them at all.

“You’re an interesting person Mr. Bhorg.”

“Why is that?” Bhorg replied. He slowly continued adding more and more force to his handshake. He could still feel a human hand, but why can’t he crush it? He can’t detect any trace of magic being used at all. He decided to up the ante.

The air above their hands flickered from the heat. Bhorg’s arm was slowly being covered by molten rocks. The thick liquid seeped through his skin and crept along his arm down to his hand. His hand slowly increased to nearly twice its original size.

The liquid rock slowly cooled while leaving bright red hot lava lines tracing runes on his massive boulder arm. It was becoming one very heated handshake.

“A person with hereditary tattoos and a Moltencore bloodline…”

“You know of this bloodline?”

“Yes, I have met a person who had a Moltencore bloodline once. Your bloodline is very rare.”

“That is true.” It seemed that this Aya is no ordinary warrior. He was resisting his hand being crushed while not using any magic at all. Bhorg tried using his special skill by virtue of his bloodline to see if he can make Aya flinch.

The magical rocks covering his arms were harder than enchanted steel. Molten veins mapped out a concentric circular seal at the back of his hand. It was different from the runes tattooed on his skin. Even when he uses his bloodline to cover his body with a magical molten rock armor, he can still use his hereditary runes together with the seals on his armored body, making him one of the most powerful warriors of their clan.

But he wasn’t going to use all of his power for this showdown. He only needed to confirm that this person before him was powerful enough to take down a demon with an exorcism executed in less than the blink of an eye.

Aya looked up at the sky between the two tall buildings sandwiching the alley. “Nice weather we are having, it just that this alley seems a bit hot.”

Bhorg grimaced. It looked like he was being underestimated. He needed this person’s help but he was not showing any weakness.

He increased the heat from emitted by his hands. The concrete walls at the sides of the alley began to melt a little. His cloak was made out of a firewyrm’s leathery skin so he wasn’t worried about his clothes. It appeared that Aya’s cloak was also made out of some heat resistant material.

Aya once again looked at him and smiled like they were two friends out on a drink and bragging to each other. “I have to do something after this so I best finish this. I will show you what a real handshake is.”

Something stirred inside Bhorg’s powerful grasp. Aya’s hand was increasing in size. Bhorg’s fingers were being loosened. His fist enclosing Aya hand was slowly pried open. It doesn’t feel like a human hand anymore.

Bhorg maintained his composure and began activating his basic strength runes, followed by mid-tier runes. But he couldn’t stop Aya’s hand from breaking free of his grasp.

His eyes narrowed as the hand of Aya, enlarged several times, came into view. It really was not the hand of a human being.

His palm was covered with several plates of silver scales while the back of his hand and his fingers were covered with cobalt scales.

“What? A Surgan lizardman?” Bhorg exclaimed in surprise. He knew Aya was hiding his identity, but he didn’t know he was a lizardman masquerading as a human.

Aya quickly grasped his outstretched rock covered hand, the metallic plates covering his palm grinded against the rocks covering Bhorg’s hands.

Bhorg observed the scales covering Aya’s hand. The scales were not evened patterned, they came in different sizes. His real form must be massive, Bhorg deduced. Only massive lizardmen have uneven scales. The hardened enchanted rocks covering his hand started to crack under the immense pressure, steam fizzed out from the cracks.

Bhorg swore under his breath. He activated the seals of at the back of his hand. The cracks slowly healed and he gripped back. Hard.

Half his mind was still trying to make sense of the situation before him. A cobalt lizardman that was very large. A Saurianziir? He was not very familiar with the different species compromising the lizardmen kingdom. He only knew that there was a hierarchy among the different species. The Saurianziir were one of the most powerful kinds of lizardmen. But did they have power to camouflage as a human? He can’t remember…

“Hey, Hey, focus on this handshake. Can’t you see how awesome this is? A golem and a reptile hand. Someone should paint this scene as the most manly handshake ever!”

He was just treating this as a joke. Bhorg was incensed. He was trying to keep calm but the other person was not trying to be serious at all. Can he really be a Saurianziir? How about a Zardlord? He quickly erased the thought from his mind as he remembered that Zardlords were colored emerald green and had octagonal scales.

“Feeling the grip yet, big guy?,” Aya said with a huff.

Once again his armored hand began to crack. His protection began to crumble to dust. He activated his tattooed runes but to no avail. The reptilian hand did not budge at all. The vice grip gradually closed.

“How about this.” Bhorg began channelling fire essences. Those with the Moltencore bloodline can gather fire essences of a higher quality than what even fire spirits can attract. If he can’t win in a battle of grips, he’d rather just melt the hand.

The metallic plates of the palm glowed as they were being heated. The walls, and even the pavement of the alley were starting to melt.

“Wow, you’re actually using fire against me. That’s like the one thing that you should not use,” Aya said. Then he looked out of the alley. “We should finish this quickly. The detection wards are picking the magic that we are using. City guards will be here soon.”

As soon as he finished his sentence, an explosion was heard from the distance.

“That was a friend of mine,” Bhorg explained. Bhorg reminded himself to thank Ethani later for distracting the city guards. Hopefully, she did not injure anyone. They already made a large mess. If there were injured civilians, the city guards will look more closely into the matter.

“Booya!”

A revolting sound was heard, as if bones were being crumpled like pieces of paper.

Aya was able to close his grip. Bhorg’s golem-like armor was ground into his flesh and bones.

Aya released his grip and grinned apologetically. “Um, sorry about that,” he said, nodding towards the lump of flesh that was once Bhorg’s hand.”

Bhorg did not show any sign of feeling the pain of having his hand squeezed until it became something that could be used for filling meat rolls. He was the one who started it in the first place. He was actually smiling. He found someone that could exorcise the curse out of their warrior-king.

Aya picked up the things that he placed on the end of the alley and walked past Bhorg. “I’m really sorry about that hand. I owe you for that one. I’ll make you a new hand or something if you want.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Bhorg assured him. He closely watched the reptilian hand of Aya turn back into that of a human’s. A Saurianziir for sure.

"I was sort of surprised when you did that last thing. Were you trying to ignite my soul?"

"It was worth a try." Bhorg shrugged. He acted nonchalantly but he was actually shaken when his soul burning technique was easily repelled.

"Don't be surprised it didn't affect me. I use that trick myself sometimes," Aya said with a wink.

A Saurianziir that dabled in spirits? Bhorg was not an expert of Surgan culture, but he knows that they detested anything that had to do with spirits. Their mages don’t summon any spirits at all. So why is this lizardman exorcising demons and using soul spells? Possibly a renegade Saurianziir? That would also explain why he camouflages himself as a human. It would be easier to convince to help their cause if that was the case.

Aya looked at what was once Bhorg’s hand and tutted. “Such is the price of a manly handshake.” He reached up to pat Bhorg’s bulging shoulders. “Well, you know where to find me. I just have to do something right now. Tell me when you know what I can do to make up for that…” He pointed at the inexplicable piece of flesh attached to Bhorg’s wrist.

"Thank you for the lesson Saurianziir," Bhorg bowed his head. Normally he would clasp his hands as a sign of respect. But circumstances prevent him from doing so. "What business are you going to attend to?"

"I'm going to break in my own house."