The half-quiet rumble of the howling wind. The soft rustle of leaves overhead. And warmth, paired with an innocent heaviness.

Jack opened his eyes. He was awake. The events of the previous night came to his mind and he frowned slightly, he wanted to get up, but stopped himself at the thought. On his chest, Nelia was sleeping peacefully, nestling her ear against his body and grasping him with both hands, squeezing and unclenching them slightly.

It looked like she'd been guarding me and the camp all night, but she still got knocked out by sleep in the morning... - Thought Jack.

Jack lay there for about ten more minutes, just looking up at the slowly floating clouds and listening to Nelia's measured breathing. Then, he gently took her head and moved it from his chest to a makeshift pillow made from the camping bag. She didn't wake up from such actions, though. Jack got up, looked around for changes, stretched, warmed himself, washed his face with cold water, and moved toward the long extinguished fire, where Chris, in complete silence, sat on the ground and poked over the cold embers with a stick.

Judging by Jack's internal clock, which he trusted implicitly, it was about 6:00 a.m., which meant Nelia had only recently fallen asleep. In a small thank you, Jack decided not to wake her up and let her sleep a couple more hours.

As Jack approached the fire, Chris gave him a curious look, it was clear that he saw that the man was asleep with his sister. But Chris didn't say anything, just grinned a little and began to grind the coals again with his thin stick.

- I'm going hunting, keep an eye on your sister. - Jack said as he walked past Chris into the dense woods.

Chris quickly looked back to answer, but Jack was no longer in the clearing. After thinking for a while, Chris pulled his sword closer to him and turned so that Nelia was always in his line of sight. To kill time, he got into a fencing stance and began making various lunges and swings he only knew.

Thirty minutes later, Jack emerged from the woods, holding two rabbits and a bunch of some herbs that Chris mistook for spices. With a silent nod to Jack, Chris went back to his training while Jack started to build a fire for cooking and carving the carcasses. From time to time, Jack glanced over at Chris's training, the latter, covered in sweat, seemed to be fighting two imaginary enemies and applying various skills. While Chris was playing with his sword, Jack was dunking the carcass he'd already carved into the cauldron over the fire.

- You're doing it all wrong. With moves like that, you'd lose even to an ordinary soldier." Jack blurted out in between.

Chris stopped and looked at Jack, who was enthusiastically carving up two rabbits.

- So teach me. Jack. Please?" - Chris's smile was luscious, you could tell he was forcing himself. He was understandable, Jack was younger than him and he didn't see the honor in learning from him, but he had no choice.

- As far as I can see, you're using the Avarian sword style or something similar, the worst kind. This style is for short swords strictly up to 1 meter, preferably made of Avarian steel as it is lighter than regular steel. Also in this style you fight with one hand holding the other hand around your torso. So, the main secret of this style - your sword has to be bifurcated, so when facing a strong opponent you can strike the sword in your left hand with your free hand, thus splitting the sword into two parts and fight with two swords. For that you have to be an ambidextrous, which you are currently not. My point is, this style is too demanding for you, and I don't know where you got it, but the more you learn it, the weaker you get as a swordsman, because it's a difficult style to master alone, without a mentor." - While Jack was talking, he walked over to Chris, took the sword from him, and showed him a few stances and lunges of the Avarian style.

Chris stood there almost gaping at what he saw. What Jack had glimpsed was far better than he had seen from the mercenary who had taught him the style, and the man was an expert.

- Oh-how do you know this style?" - shouted Chris amazed and a little frightened.

- I know a lot about the way of the sword, it's part of my job as a squire, and by the way, that sword definitely doesn't work for this style." - Jack replied, examining Chris's sword.

- What am I supposed to do then, this style is all I know!?" - Chris said dejectedly.

- Have you ever-heard of rural fencing?"

- Rural fencing? What's that? No, I haven't, but it sounds kind of weird." - Chris's lips crinkled a little at the name.

- I'm not surprised." - Jack handed the sword back to Chris and returned to stirring the broth. - This style was invented by the villagers of the village of Leon, in Mercia, just over a hundred years ago. In those days, Diolas broke through Mercia's defenses and entered its territories. This, of course, led to the looting and destruction of border towns and villages, such as Leon. This village was right in the path of Diolas' army, and the people of Leon knew that the soldiers, weary from centuries of border warfare, wouldn't hold back and would destroy, loot, and devastate everything in their path. Therefore, they began to make plans to defend themselves with their own forces, since they could not expect help from the defeated Mersian army. The villagers trained, prepared for battle, and in time, came up with their own style, which they soon dubbed Rural." - Jack paused in his story to taste the broth. Chris, meanwhile, waited patiently for the story to continue.

- Back then, the villagers faced the task of confronting a regular army armed to the teeth, who, moreover, were bedecked in armor. Ordinary weapons couldn't penetrate such armor, and the villagers didn't even have that... The terrain around Leon is vast fields and plains, so the villagers grew mostly cereals and grains, so all they had were scythes to cut the grass. As you probably guessed and the villagers guessed - a scythe, like a halberd, is able to penetrate armor easily, but requires much more skillful handling and technique. Of course, an ordinary scythe can't pierce armor, so they strengthened the scythe with additional metal, making it three times stronger and thicker and heavier. With these scythes they began to train and come up with different techniques, which later were put together in the so-called rural style. Or heavy scythe fighting." - Jack continued the story, sitting on a stump and looking straight into Chris's eyes.

- So... What happened to the villagers? Did they defend their village? Did they defeat the army?" - Chris asked, clearly engrossed in the story.

Jack didn't answer right away. He looked away, his face frowning slightly.

- No, they didn't. They couldn't. There were about 150 villagers, and the army had about two thousand guardsmen. But. They put up a fight. And they killed almost 300 men with their own forces. Three hundred trained soldiers, shrouded in the finest armor of our Empire, killed, with simple weighted scythes... After the battle, some of them were taken prisoners to watch as what they desperately tried to defend fell to their deaths. Soldiers murdered their wives and children right in front of them. Their friends, all the inhabitants, were killed. And then, as an admonition to the rest of the villages, to prevent others from rebelling in a similar way, they constructed a kind of pillar made from the scythes and hung the survivors on them. Along with their relatives. Such is the history of rural fencing, though you certainly wouldn't call it fencing." - Jack finished and took the cauldron off the fire.

Chris seemed to get chills and turn pale. He almost cried at the picture presented. Compassion and empathy had always been a weakness of his.

- But... but why had I never heard about this story before?Or about this fencing?" asked Chris to Jack as he pulled a single bowl from his bag.

- The army of Diolas made sure this story died with the rebels, for it is a shameful defeat for the common villagers. I only told you this story because I think this fencing suits you. I see that your right hand is much stronger than your left, and from your story, I can assume that you learned blacksmithing from your parents and held a hammer in your hand all the time. Which is exactly the basic condition for rural fencing, as the scythe is heavy and all its weight falls on the right hand. Well, I can give you notes from this kind of fighting, since I think that with it you will get the kind of strength that will allow you, at the very least, to protect Nelia, and yourself. Do you want to learn it?" - Jack asked a slightly puzzled Chris and handed him a bowl of improvised rabbit soup.

- Do I have time to think about it?" - Chris asked, accepting the bowl from Jack's hands.

- No."

- Then... I agree.I haven't progressed one iota in this damn Avarian style anyway, and it doesn't look like I'll ever progress... By the way, how did you even know about this Rural Fencing, since it's under such a veil of secrecy? And won't it be a problem for you to share it with me?"

- No. There won't be a problem. I only learned it because I like to read very much. Now finish it, I'll show you the basics." - Jack said, moving toward the woods and hiding in its shadows. A few minutes later he returned with a half-metre stick in his hands. Squeezing the stick between his legs, he began to wrap some colorless rags around the end of Chris's short sword. Soon it looked like a scythe. A very ugly scythe.

- Here, take it, feel its weight and structure. The scythe you need for this fencing will need three times the weight. In the future you will make one yourself, you won't have any problems, you're a blacksmith." - With these words he handed the scythe to Chris with one hand. When Chris took it in his hands, he staggered from its weight and looked at Jack with amazement, who handed him such a heavy object with one hand, and freely.

- Well, let's start training while we have time." - Jack said, looking at the wrapped lump of cloth that was the sleeping Nelia.

***

Two and a half hours later.

There were two men standing in the clearing. One was covered in sweat, panting heavily, exhausted, and barely on his feet. He had a homemade scythe in his hands, bloody with blisters, and stood hunched over under its weight. On the other side of him, stood a blond young man with an expressionless face that clearly didn't match his age. His boner was straight and relaxed, and in his hands was a short sword.

- Finished. In the future, you will repeat what I have taught you now and then, something will work out for you." - Jack said and upon hearing those words Chris instantly collapsed on the grass with no strength. Jack walked over to him and looked down on him.

- Oh... oh... Ah... Why... Why is this so exhausting? I... I almost died. Haaaa...." - Chris asked, trying to gather as much air as he could with his mouth to get any words out.

- The villagers only had a month to prepare for battle. Their time was severely limited, so their training was aimed at getting the maximum effect in the shortest amount of time. They exhausted themselves, almost to the point of death, skipping sleep, food, and other needs. They had their families behind them, so they came up with the toughest training they possibly could. Now, I've only shown you the simplest ones. Here take this, here's the rest." - Jack pulled a small, palm-sized black book out of his bag, the pages completely yellowed and desiccated from time.

Chris took the book in his hands and put it in his bag without looking at it.

- S-thank you. Ah.... I.. I don't even know... how to thank you..." - Chris got up from the ground to thank Jack, but he couldn't find the strength to lift his body, so he collapsed again.

- I don't need anything. Just put it to good use, that's all. Go wake up your sister, we're leaving in ten minutes."

- W-what? Aaah-ha!?" with a disgruntled face Chris tried to get up, but fell again. Exhaling a whole lungful of air into the ground, he gritted his teeth and crawled toward Nelia.

Jack, meanwhile, was picking up all the stuff from the morning glade, covered in a glistening watery dew.

***

Parnifal has always been an unusual phenomenon. As the first protective stronghold on the frontier with Mercia, this city served as a place where soldiers, armies, divisions, guardsmen, and other army nonsense stayed overnight, or for several years. There were no ordinary citizens in this town. Everyone in this town was military, ex-military, current or soon-to-be. War outlaws or aristocrats with their own army, which is basically the same thing.

Being a crossroads city, it was home to every kind of fun and entertainment imaginable. After all, soldiers must be entertained before they're hacked to pieces the next day in a border skirmish, right? So brothels, taverns, and gun & armor stores were on every corner here.

From a bird's eye view the city looked like a muddy patch, a mess of brown, dishevelled houses majestically encircled by a ten meter high white marble wall, as if the current outrage wasn't enough.

In general, if you are an ordinary traveler, a man of honor and morality, this city will make you vomit, because on the first day you will see a couple of soldiers screwing a common cheap whore right on the central square, not caring about others' views and drinking, in the meantime, some wine straight from the barrel. The rite of initiation of the city, you could consider that at the entrance to the city you will be pissed on, puked on and robbed, and that's only at best. Battles, duels, fights to the death, booze fights, everything was there and it all fit.

What's funny is that "Parnifal" means "City of Hope" in Old Diolassic language, but if that's what Diolas' hope looked like, then things are very bad for the Empire.

***

5 pm. The outskirts of the city of Parnifal.

Three young men stood in a column of queue to enter the city. Even though it was the main entrance to the city, they were standing almost knee-deep in mud, and many who passed them as they entered the city tripped over the rolling clods of mud and faced their brown future.

- I've heard there's always a line of people in front of the Parnifal, but I never thought there'd be so many..." - Nelia said, glancing up at the line of people and the wagon that stretched for nearly a kilometer.

- Though Parnifal may not have a very good reputation. One thing's for sure, the money, the drunken soldiers here are leaving every penny they have. They know the dead don't need money. And if they survive, they get more. So all the dealers and crooks of all stripes are reaching out here to take a bite out of this money cow." - Jack replied in a metallic voice, from beneath his ridiculously huge knight's helmet.

- By the way, why do you need that helmet?" - Chris asked.

- I need it for my plan." - Jack said curtly, without giving any further explanation.

- Hey you! What the fuck are you standing around for? You fucking cocksuckers! You fuckers! Come here, kids!" - called out to the three with his guttural shout, the guard nearest to them, who was in charge of inspecting the entrants. His tone was understandable, since he was the only one in charge of inspecting thousands of people. Though there may have been others, they didn't seem to come out, flying between the legs in a drunken stupor at the local brothel.

- 3 Permits to enter! Hurry the fuck up! Quick!" - The guard shouted at them, clearly hurrying them along.

Nelia glanced furtively at Jack and pulled out three entry permits from behind her groove and handed them to the dirt-black hands of the guard. He looked at them, and when he saw that one of them was almost entirely covered in blood, he raised an eyebrow at Nelia questioningly.

This resolution was in Nelia's father's cloak, and his blood, under clear circumstances, stained it red.

Nelia had to get out of it somehow, so she looked down guiltily and said: "Sorry, I had my period..."

Hearing Nelia's words, the guard grimaced in disgust and instantly handed the permits back.

- Ugh, crap... Come on in! Hurry up! Snitches! Next, this way, you bitch, now!" - As the three made their way through the once majestic six-meter-high gate, the guard took the next person in line by the collar and began slapping him in the face, asking for permission to enter.

- Yeah. I think I know who's going to be employee of the year here..." - Chris joked. At which Nelia nearly jumped with laughter, Jack's reaction remained a mystery hidden beneath his helmet.

Before the eyes of the three teenagers lay the majestic Parnifal, majestic in its inferiority. The main street, wide and perhaps once beautiful, was completely covered in dirt and debris. There were drunken bodies lying everywhere, which passersby bypassed or stupidly kicked. Scraps of cloth, bottles, metal objects, knickknacks, everything was lying around. And what was the smell? Mmm.

Off to the side, a small figure in black moved from the shadows toward the trio, gradually picking up speed. When the figure leveled with them, a scrawny little hand emerged from beneath the soot-black cloak, trying to snatch the bag from the walking Jack. But the hand grabbed only air. It wasn't because the bag wasn't there, it was just that the hand was rotated 90 degrees from the position it should be in. Jack broke the thief's arm in one fell swoop, so fast that no one could notice the movement, and it looked like he was going to be out of a similar job in the future.

- Ahhhhhhhhhh!" - The thief started to scream, but Jack quickly covered his mouth with his hand and slapped him across the face with the other. From the blow on his cheek, the thief lost consciousness and didn't scream anymore. Jack let go of the body from his hands and it fell into the dirt, lying in a row, along with the others who might have suffered the same fate.

- Whoa! I didn't even see him jump out! And from where? And how did you... Holy Mother of God, who are you..." - With his mouth hanging open he asked the young man standing in front of him, and though he was smaller than Chris in height, Chris could feel him looking down on him.

- I am Jack. A squire named Jack." - The metallic voice came out from beneath his visor again. Jack, not paying attention to what had happened, walked further into the depths of the city. And the brother and sister stared after him in silence.

- I feel like we don't know him at all..." - Chris said.

- I have a feeling we never will..." - Nelia almost echoed him.