Chapter Four

Excitare

Fermboi woke up to the sounds of several roosters cawing. He was about to sit up when he felt a heavy mass on his chest. “So it happened,” he muttered as put his right hand on Vazaral’s slim left arm. He pushed it to the left with little force. He did not want her to wake up. He raised the fluffy red blanket.

“That was amazing,” he heard Vazaral mutter. He looked at her face. Her eyes were not open but her mouth displayed untainted white teeth. Dimples appeared on both ends of her smile.

Fermboi winced. “Damn it,” he said in a low voice.

“I think my aunt left,” Vazaral said. “You want to do it again?” Vazaral had opened her eyes to look at Fermboi. Books that described sea life often talked about the color of the ocean and how it looked like wine but with stronger tinge. Fermboi had drank some wine before and they were not the dark blue that Vazaral possessed.

Fermboi sighed and closed his eyes. “Why not.”

A bell toll was heard and it was the signal for the people to start doing their routine.

Fermboi unhinged himself after sputtering and grabbed his clothes on the dresser to the right of the bed. It was prepared, by the aunt of girl he had finished with. “You have a lot of stamina for a first-timer.”

“I’ve been cultivating,” Vazaral said as she stood up. Fermboi looked to the her left and saw that there was another dresser. Fermboi wondered how the older woman could afford two dressers aside from the exotic bed he rested upon. And the saberacat carpet, and the rest of the room’s objects.

“Huh,” Fermboi said. “What rank are you then, you took nearly as long as your—”

“I just entered Capitenus Dominion the other day,” Vazaral said, cutting Fermboi off. Fermboi watched her put her dress on. He did the same when she was fixing the shoulder straps of the dress. “You want to come over to my house?” Vazaral asked as she finished dressing. “I don’t like this clothing. Aunt Azisa made me scramble my dresser for the best clothes. This is supposed to be my wedding dress a few years from now,” Vazaral stated while looking down on her clothes. She looked up at Fermboi. “I mean I guess it was my wedding dress last night.”

Fermboi averted her gaze. “Why would I come to your house?”

“I’ll change my clothes,” Vazaral said.

“And?” Fermboi asked, not knowing the significance.

“I’m following you afterwards,” Vazaral declared. “With cultivating and stuff.”

“Why?” Fermboi asked but he already knew the answer.

Vazaral put on a frail smile. “You’re my husband now,” she proclaimed. “It is my duty.”

Fermboi put his right hand on his forehead and sighed. “Okay.”

While they walked away from the tent of Vazaral’s aunt, Fermboi felt the gaze of several males on him. Old and young. After Amaru Shapak had died sixteen years ago, no one knew much about what Fatumoyira and Sara Shapak did. Fermboi had gone unmolested in the streets of Bayla for sixteen years, and he did not like the gaze of the boys similar to his age. He wished for the worry-free life he had planned earlier.

Vazaral grabbed Fermboi’s right hand with her left. “Let them eat envy.”

“I’m still not sure why you aren’t opposed to your situation right now,” Fermboi said in a low voice that carried a confused tone. He turned his head to the right.

“Aunt Azisa knows what’s best for me,” Vazaral stated as she continued looking ahead them. “If this is what she wills, I will follow it.”

“Why do you follow her so willingly?” Fermboi asked.

“She’s what my mother should have been,” Vazaral said as she lightened her grip on Fermboi’s hand.

Fermboi turned his head to face the cobblestone road. He watched as several varying sizes of rocks were kicked forward by their shoes.

“Hey, watch yourself,” Vazaral cautioned. “Or else you’re gonna fall again. Except this time it won’t be a tent flap, but pure marble.”

Fermboi sighed. Vazaral broke the hand-holding to touch the marble door in front of her. She used both of her hands’ fingertips to move the door to the left. Vazaral’s exhales became quicker and shorter bursts.

“That’s why there’s no guards,” Fermboi remarked.

“No one else but me also lives here,” Vazaral said as she stepped in.

Fermboi considered following but sat down on the marbled outdoor stairs instead.

Fermboi had been watching a situation develop between an old man dressed in lavish clothes and a younger woman with just a brown bed sheet over her front body when he felt a tap on his left shoulder. Fermboi turned his head to find Vazaral sitting down beside him in a different set of clothes.

“That’s Count Asatius and his concubine here,” Vazaral said as she looked at the direction Fermboi had been gazing at. “Happens every week. Come on now, you’re practicing cultivation, right? Let me see.”

Fermboi eyes met with Vazaral’s. He took in the outfit she had changed into. It was a total opposite of what he expected. He expected her to lessen the voluptuous clothes from yesterday that displayed all the right curves. He did not expect her to hide them entirely with what seemed to be a medeve fur coat. It had a large hood that hid her long blonde hair. The only clue she was blonde at all would be her eyebrows.

“Wow,” Fermboi said.

“What?” Vazaral asked, parting her frontal bangs. “I saw you smile, that’s why I’m wearing this.”

Fermboi sighed. “Yes, it’s beautiful on you, but you look suspicious as hell.”

“That’s the point,” Vazaral stated. “Besides, it’s my normal attire.”

“Really?” Fermboi asked.

“Really,” Vazaral said. “Aunt Azisa told me it’s okay to have a hood on the wedding dress. That’s why it was there.”

Fermboi spat air. “Let me guess, she’s raised you as her shadow,” Fermboi stated.

“Mhm,” Vazaral replied. “She hasn’t got a son or daughter yet, so she took it upon herself to take me.”

“Huh,” Fermboi said. “Oh yeah, by the way, where do you come from? I’ve never heard of your name before and you girls look a little bit different than the rest of us Eterians.”

“Somewhere far away,” Vazaral stated, averting Fermboi’s gaze. “Come on up, show me how you cultivate already.”

Fermboi sighed. “Okay, where do you want to go?”

“Wherever you cultivate,” Vazaral replied.

“I’m just a puny Rang Twelve to your Capitenus ceiling,” Fermboi declared. “Do you really want to see how such weak creatures like me try to get stronger?”

Vazaral nodded.

“Okay, just in case you don’t understand, I’ll repeat it again,” Fermboi stated. “Don’t interrupt me during the actual test.”

“Right.”

“Don’t interrupt me during the actual test.”

“Mhm.”

“Even though I’m your husband and you’re probably stronger than most people there, don’t interrupt my battles.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t do it.”

“Uhuh.”

“I might lose, don’t intervene.”

“Yes, I won’t.”

“Do you got it?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay, we’ll start gathering herbs now.”

“Herbs?” Vazaral asked in a curious tone. “What do you need them for?”

“I’ll try to learn how to make some energy-giving stuff,” Fermboi replied. He focused his mind. “Alyana, do you know how to make the pills you talked about?” Silence. Fermboi cursed himself. “Damn it.”

“Huh?” Vazaral asked.

Fermboi laughed as he scratched the back of his head with his right hand. “Nothing.”

“I swear I thought you were concerned about something.”

“Well I’m not,” Fermboi replied. “Damn woman.”

“Are you cursing me?”

“No.”

Vazaral did not say more and Fermboi took that as a sign to show her what she wanted. Fermboi tilted his chin up. The sun was halfway into its peak. Fermboi looked to the west and had Vazaral follow.

Their journey was silent aside from the calls of the wind and the replies of the grass. They walked on a dirt road that was, for every other step, spotted with gravel.

“Hey there young man,” an old voice croaked. Fermboi raised his eyebrows. An identical situation happened before. A day before.

“Oh no,” Fermboi said turning around to look at the source of the old voice.

Vazaral sniffed her nose. “What, what’s wrong?”

“Ten silvers say that this man can’t be detected.”

“In terms of martial power?”

“Yes.”

“I can detect him just fine, he’s Rang One.”

Fermboi sighed and walked towards the old man sitting behind a table that had an arching sign above. It was a half-colored banana. Vazaral followed behind him. “What is it grandfather?”

“Do you know where you are?” the old man asked.

“The Forest of Alom?” Fermboi replied as he looked at the old man’s merchandise. A large bushel of shells caught his curiosity. He had never seen such things before but he knew what they were. The shells of some sea creatures.

“Ah, young man,” the old man said with a rising tone. “Those are the shells of clams. Clams from Likibriya in Atra Okainus. Much better than the closer ones in Elra Okainus.”

Fermboi nodded. “And what is it about us knowing where we are?”

“Oh young man,” the old man. “I just wanted to remind you where you’re entering.”

Fermboi opened his lips before raising his eyebrows. Then he closed his lips. A breeze blew by, brimmed by brazenness. “Is awf’ly cold ‘ere,” he said.

The old man raised his white eyebrows before grinning. “I got just the right stuff to combat it,” the old man said, moving his arms in-between the bushels of fruits, vegetables, and other food types laid out on top of the table surface in front of him. After a while, his hands came upon a green, oval-like food that looked like it had scales for skin. “Here.”

“Wait, what fruit is that?” Vazaral said.

Fermboi had extended his hand forward. “Is this the churmoya fruit?” Fermboi took the fruit from the old man with his left hand and raised it near his face.

“Churmoya?” Vazaral repeated.

“A young lady,” the old man said. “This fruit is ancient and comes from far away, a land long lost, lying lowest like lorn litter along the bed of the river.”

“Huh?” Vazaral asked.

Fermboi had his eyes focusing on the fruit. “How much for the bushel, grandpa?”

“One gold coin, my son,” the old man said.

Fermboi took his gaze off the fruit. “Done.” Fermboi put his right hand in his right pocket. There was nothing there. He put it on his other pocket. Nothing there either. “Vaz, you got a gold coin?” Fermboi asked, turning around to face Vazaral. Vazaral’s face had grown angry: her eyebrows were touching and her lips were straight. “Welp, there’s always a first time.” Fermboi sighed. “Not like it’s the first time in a day.” Fermboi shook his head. “Still can’t believe I didn’t see this bushel earlier.”

“Not like it’s the first time in a day?” Vazaral asked with raised eyebrows.

“You heard that?” Fermboi asked, moving his head backward and raising it a little bit higher.

Vazaral sighed. “What is this exotic fruit that costs a gold coin for a bushel,” she said in an irritated tone. “You can buy a man for a gold coin.” Fermboi opened his lips for a moment before closing and straightening them. Vazaral waited for him to speak, but Fermboi refused. “I’ve got only one.”

Fermboi’s lips curved upwards. “Thanks, wife.”

Vazaral nodded as she rummaged through the inside of her silken dress. “Here,” she said, flinging the golden coin towards the old man.

“How come it didn’t make a ring?” Fermboi asked as the coin landed on the old man’s hands.

“I just pushed it instead of flicking it,” Vazaral said. The old man had taken the bushel and brought it near Vazaral. “Are you going to hold your stuff or does it have to be me?”

Fermboi opened his lips. “Thank you, young lady and young man,” the old man said. Fermboi turned to look at him. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Fermboi sighed and turned to look at Vazaral. “Thank you,” Vazaral said, bowing her head.

Fermboi bowed. “Thanks.”

While Fermboi was about to lift his head, Vazaral tugged on his arm. “Come on now,” she whispered. “I want to hurt that old man for ripping us off. A gold coin for fruits, are you insane?” Fermboi grinned at the old man as he was dragged away by Vazaral. The old man waved with his right hand. “Can’t believe I even agreed to give you my coin.”

“So why did you then,” Fermboi asked.

“I didn’t want to lose face,” Vazaral replied as Fermboi’s soles hit the rocky road. “That’s why.”

“Face, oh face,” Fermboi said. “I still don’t know why you guys care about such lace.”

“You know laces are plants and that you have to say poison after it, right?” Vazaral said.

“Whatever,” Fermboi said. “Wait, I thought you were one of them silent girls.” Vazaral opened her lips for a moment before closing them. “Where are we going?”

Vazaral stopped dragging Fermboi when they were out of the usual entrance to the Forest of Alom. “You know, I thought the entrance would have more people but I guess everyone’s in the forest, judging from the tracks.”

“Tracks?” Fermboi asked.

Vazaral pointed with her right index finger at the horizon. “You see that?”

“What?” Fermboi moved his head forward.

“Come on, let’s go,” Vazaral said, sprinting.

“I got a bushel with me, wait!” Fermboi said.

Hundreds of people surrounded two people.

“Who do you think is gonna win, the brute or the shining knight?”

“The shining knight,” Vazaral said.

“Me too,” Fermboi said. “Hey, wait a minute.” Fermboi saw a man with drips of sweat all over his face as the duel went on, and he was not one of the two fighters. “Bayaz!” The sweating man looked up and met eyes with Fermboi for a moment before breaking contact. Fermboi sighed. “Well, let’s just see what happens then.”

“Why did you say that word?” Vazaral asked. The duel was intensifying: the larger man who bore no armor began to increase the speed of his sword thrusts.

“What word?” Fermboi asked.

“Ba-Bayaz?”

Fermboi chuckled. “Oh, I read it in a book once,” he stated. “There’s this barbaric man from the north with nine fingers and he visits the capital of a civilized nation in the company of a wizard. Actually, you know, now that I think about it, the Bloody–”

A dash of light on the top right of Fermboi’s vision erased his concentration.

“What the hell was that?” Vazaral asked.

“You saw it too?” Fermboi put his right hand over his eyebrows to locate the source of the light.

“Came from the slopes of the mountain over there,” Vazaral said. “I thought it was an arrowhead gleaming.”

“This place is so sketchy,” Fermboi muttered. “Next thing you know that was probably some warning sign or signal for someone. Wait.” The man who was sweating before had disappeared. The larger of the two fighters, the brute wearing nothing but his brown shorts, began to crack at his armor-plated opponent. “Oh shit, our knight’s going to lose.”

The brute’s sword clashed against the silver armor to the frequency of minimal retaliation. The man inside the silver armor could only parry some of the brute’s attacks and his armor soon began to dent.

“Swords don’t pierce armor though,” Vazaral stated. “He’ll be fine.”

“Oh, and how do you know this?” Fermboi questioned.

“I know how to use the sword.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Want to prove it to me?”

“You’re going to get hurt.”

“You’re a girl.”

“So?”

“I can’t get hurt by a girl.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah, you wanna fight?”

“Okay, but I warned you.”

“Good, now we’ll just wait for these two fools.”

Vazaral looked at Fermboi, her eyebrows touching each other. “Oh no, I’m not going on that stage.”

“Why not?” Fermboi asked. “I think that’s the whole purpose of that white marble in the middle of cobblestone everywhere. To fight and show who’s better.”

“Okay, but I’m not even that good of a swordsman,” Vazaral revealed.

Fermboi shook his head. “Oh come on now Vazaral, you’re just trying to back out now.”

Vazaral sighed. “Okay, let’s wait for them,” she said. “But I’m telling you, even though I’m not that good of a swordsman, I still have my martial cultivation helping me.”

Fermboi closed his eyes. “True,” he muttered. “I forgot about that. You’re not going to kill me, are you?”

Vazaral frowned. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I’ll beat you.”

“Right, as if a Rang One could beat me,” Vazaral stated. “An inexperienced swordsman too. I don’t even know what’s the point of us dueling, just so you could prove armor can be pierced by swords?”

“This is why you gotta read books, Vaz,” Fermboi stated. “Wait, how do you know I do swords, I thought you said you didn’t believe me?”

Vazaral rolled her eyes. “I was just kidding, I know you’ve never touched a sword before and just want to make a scene.” Fermboi smirked. “What? Don’t tell me you’ve actually wielded one before?”

Fermboi shook his head. “No, but I will.”

The brute and the knight would have fought day and night if not for a large lone stone that stood high above a hill nearby. It had made a thunderous impact on the ground and caused for everyone to shift their view.

“Well, that rock was bound to fall anyway,” Vazaral stated.

Fermboi turned to his right. “And what makes you say that?”

“I saw it threatening to fall just as we arrived,” Vazaral said. “Was worried it’d roll towards us and I’d have to display my martial ability.”

Fermboi shook his head and grinned. “Right, as if you’d somehow stop the rock.”

“Yeah, I could,” Vazaral said. “If you call splitting it into two stopping it.”

“Right…” Fermboi muttered in a disbelieving way, but he knew it was possible. Alyana had hinted it.

“It’s just a large rock,” Vazaral stated. “It’d be easy.”

Fermboi sighed. “That large rock you call is easily seven men tall and wide,” Fermboi declared. “You’re not telling me you can kill fourteen stone men, let alone fourteen men.”

Vazaral turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. “Have you no fear of martial cultivation?” Vazaral asked. “Have you not heard of the stories?”

Fermboi had had in fact read the stories. Of how mountains could be moved from one horizon to another or how rivers could be split into two to make way for a chosen tribe. “But aren’t those done by those in the Imperator Domain?” Fermboi asked. “You’re only in Capitenus.”

Vazaral sighed before pouting. “You are so clueless,” she grumbled. “You know, if it weren’t for my aunt thinking that you were a good–”

“What the fuck?” someone shouted from behind Fermboi and Vazaral. A clang of armor was heard. “Why the hell would you push me down?”

“Sorry buddy, the world isn’t fair,” a deeper voice stated, about the same distance as the previous voice. Before Fermboi and the others turned their faces toward their previous sight, most had an idea of what happened.

“Gods damn it all, I’ve lost ten silvers!”

“Ten silvers isn’t even enough for an erethadawn, stop whining!”

“Alright, you two, get the hell off the stage and let others fight.”

The crowd began to shout among themselves as the two previous duelers left the arena.

The knight, still clad in his armor, headed Fermboi’s way. “I thought I was prophesied,” the knight muttered. “Prophesied.” Just as the knight went past Fermboi, a strong tap on Fermboi’s left shoulder interrupted what would be Fermboi’s remark on the knight’s prophesied fate.

“You there,” a deep voice said. Fermboi did not want to turn to his left, he knew who it was. “It looks like you’re good in fighting. Me and the second best fighter in this whole place had just spent finished, how about you be the third best fighter?”

“Spent finished,” Vazaral mumbled. “What kind of speech is that, and he really thinks my husband is a good swordsman. Am I blind?”

Fermboi was sure that his hearing exceeded everyone else’s as it was needed in order to communicate with Alyana in his spiritual domain. She would often murmur and say unintelligible words when she was not bantering with him. So it was no surprise that the brute did not narrow his eyes like Fermboi did. “Uh,” Fermboi sounded.

“Why you narrowing your eyes for?” the brute asked. “Come on man, I know my skill-checking ability. It’s why I even bothered dueling with that hero kid. He’s somehow better than me.” Fermboi looked at the brute. Then at Vazaral. “This boy’s gonna be your opponent? What are you, trying to impress me with combat against weaklings?” Fermboi smirked. Vazaral had her eyebrows touching. “He looks pretty with them blue dyes and that’s what’s going to earn you them sighs, fighting a fighter with looks.”

Now that the brute had mentioned it, Fermboi agreed that Vazaral had looked like a boy. “The fuck, I called her beautiful earlier,” Fermboi whispered. “Does this mean I’m attracted to boys? The fuck?”

“I’ll show you a good time, barbarian boy,” Vazaral said. It was in a deeper voice than usual.

“What the fuck, I just realized she has a deep voice too,” Fermboi whispered to himself again. “What the fuck?”

The brute laughed. “Okay, okay,” the brute said. “You guys got my vote and since I was the winner, I override everyone else’s. You guys are going on the stage.” The brute then raised his right arm up, on his hand was the sword he used earlier. “Everyone listen up. This young man, named…”

“Kasovos.”

Vazaral looked at Fermboi with a disapproving face.

“Kasovos,” the brute repeated. “Will fight this young boy named…”

“Zilodas.”

“Zilodas,” the brute paused for a moment. “So everyone get the hell off the arena and let these two fight.”

“What the hell is he kidding, he’s the same age as those two and the knight earlier.”

“This kid, speaking with such an authority.”

“His father’s probably in the army and he’s just here for the shits and giggles.”

“Damn kids these days.”

“Uh, both those kids don’t have swords, is someone gonna lend them theirs?”

“Wait, how come the brute hasn’t seen that?”

Fermboi looked at Vazaral and shrugged.

Fermboi and Vazaral went on opposite sides of the square arena. “Alright now,” the brute began. “The battle, wait, you guys don’t have swords, what the hell.”

“Give them swords!” someone shouted and Fermboi followed the rest of the heads to the left, where the mountains blocked off the sun.

Two, tall, trepid armored men walked up to the stage and handed Fermboi and Vazaral swords. “Those guys looked scared as fuck, and who the hell is that old man?” Fermboi muttered.

“Commence!” the announcer of the arena shouted.

Fermboi had the same sword as Vazaral: a long double-edged steel blade with etchings of animal-like symbols. Vazaral had hers gripped by two hands while Fermboi used only his right hand.

“The fuck is that kid doing with the broadsword, does he think he can wield it properly with one hand?”

“The other boy has good form, give me ten silvers for that kid.”

“Kasovos and Zilodas, are these kids named after the legendary warrior canalis of Eteria?”

Fermboi moved his head back a little bit when he heard someone mutter about the reference he and Vazaral had concocted. Then he smirked and lunged.

“Holy shit, that kid’s blazingly fast!”

“He can carry a broadsword that heavy with one hand?”

“The swords of the duke can be wielded with only one hand?”

“What in the name of the gods?”

Vazaral widened her eyes as Fermboi sprinted at her. She tightened her knees and lowered her sword near her torso.

Fermboi’s smirk grew even wider as he neared Vazaral and just as the swords were near each other’s reach, Fermboi ducked.

“Holy shit, that boy was faking a defensive stance and the other boy knew it!”

“Shut up, it wasn’t that fast, this shit is too slow.”

“Look, he’s gonna counterattack!”

Fermboi brought his sword upwards but it only met Vazaral’s sword instead. “She’s fast,” Fermboi whispered. He tried to look at her now-hidden eyes but only found a somewhat opened mouth underneath her hood. “Eh, I’m faster.” Vazaral had already began her counterattack but Fermboi moved to the right and dodged it.

Fermboi hurried his back to his original position while Vazaral remained standing in the very same spot she has been for the entire duration of the duel. Fermboi raised his left index finger and gestured for Vazaral to come over to him.

Fermboi saw her sigh before she obliged.

“Holy fuck, that boy’s even faster!”

“Fast as shit, more like it!”

“The boy has it in both hands and can still move that fast?”

“The gods have blessed us with the fastest fight of today, that boy is over!”

As Vazaral approached, Fermboi closed his eyes. “When a fast enemy is approaching, it is important to remember whether or not you are faster than them,” Fermboi began muttering, reciting a book based on swordsmanship. “If you are not faster than them, then pray, but if you know yourself that you outclass them in every way, then absolutely show them what it takes to be the best swordsman.”

“Is that boy stupid, he’s closed his eyes!”

“Is he praying the other boy will give him mercy, I mean you’re supposed to give mercy but at that speed, I don’t think you can do it.”

“Did I just regain my ten silvers lost earlier, oh yes!”

Fermboi slowed his breath and raised his sword in front of his heart. “Ascend, slash in, again,” Fermboi mumbled.

The metallic tools clashed with the greatest intensity yet, and it brought a little bit of pain in Fermboi’s right forearm. He had shouted the words needed to win the duel but he did not follow through with his actions. He had just blocked Vazaral’s attack.

The steel sword Fermboi wielded made a sound of cracking. The passive wind invaded the scene.

“Alright, alright, wrap it up,” The announcer commanded. “We can’t have the duke’s swords broken. That Zilodas boy wins!”

The crowd murmured as Vazaral released the pressure on her sword. Fermboi smirked. The two armored men from before picked up the swords they lent.

“What are you smiling at?” Vazaral asked Fermboi with an irritated face.

“What?”

“You could’ve won that.”

“Nah, you were too fast.”

“I saw you could’ve gone faster there at the last moment.”

“Nah, you’re probably dreaming.”

Vazaral punched Fermboi on his right shoulder. “Don’t lie to me,” she said with a growing angry voice. “I know the technique you were about to pull off. If you didn’t move like you did earlier I wouldn’t have thought you could do it. But I know you could’ve parried way better there.”

“What are you talking?” Fermboi said with an innocent voice and smile.

Vazaral rolled her eyes. “If you want to be like that, I’ll be like that too.”

Fermboi shook his head. He was on his third swing to the left when a large hand stopped his head.

“Kasovos, you’re one interesting man,” the brute stated. “Zilodas, congratulations on winning.”

“Thank you,” Vazaral replied.

Fermboi turned his head to the left. “I never said I was a good fighter,” Fermboi replied. “Did you lose a silver or two?”

“Nah,” the brute responded with an amused tone. “I was actually just kidding, I knew Zilodas had it from the beginning.”

Fermboi snorted before chuckling. The brute joined in while Vazaral rolled her eyes. “You never told me your name, I want to know who bet against me.”

The brute’s chuckle became stronger. “You think you can beat me?” the brute asked. “It’s Brutus. Brutus the Lank.”

“You used to be skinny or something?” Fermboi asked. The brute’s added title countered his physique of bulging muscles and veins.

“Something like that,” Brutus replied. He smirked. “That knight-kid, Milius, fell for it. He thought I was gonna be your lanky warrior opponent and he lost.”

“Well, you did–” Fermboi began but was interrupted by a loud wailing noise.

“Shit!” Brutus shouted. “Come on now and get to the cave entrance! We need to push the demons back!”

Vazaral looked at Fermboi. Fermboi shrugged. They followed after the running brute.

The cave entrance was not far from the arena and it was at the base of a mountain. It did not even look like a cave entrance at all for it had a couple of buildings blocking the way. It was the town Fermboi was looking for. Degenimo.

A crowd had begun to form, all weapons raised.

“Alright, for the newbies out here,” a deep voice shouted. “We kill the demons as slowly as we can. These creatures also know the meaning of pain and when their brethren hear them cry, they’ll retreat back into the cave’s depths. Got it? Let’s go!”

Fermboi saw that only the men at the front were wearing armor. The rest only had their weapons and anticipatory winter clothes, some of which were either too thin or more than enough to slow down a sword’s slice.

Fermboi had lost Brutus from his sight and so he began walking the other way.

“What are you doing?” Vazaral asked.

“What?” Fermboi replied with a tired voice.

“You know you’re more than capable enough to deal with those demons than most of these people, right?”

“And?”

“They’ll probably deal with the demons as they always do–with overwhelming victory.”

“You know…” Vazaral began but stopped. She motioned for Fermboi to turn around.

“Hey you two!” the knight that lost to Brutus shouted. “Come party up with me, Oportinius, Mendacius, Salus, and Formidius.”

“What?” Fermboi asked.

“If you don’t party up and they see you deserting, they’ll put your head on a spike!” the knight declared. “What’s your names? I’ve just come to know these four’s about a moment ago!”

“Uh,” Fermboi began.

“It doesn’t matter!” the knight yelled as he neared Fermboi. “Let’s just go before we get punished!”

Fermboi sighed and followed.

As Fermboi neared the very entrance of the cave, he had begun hearing unintelligible words. “Are these people speaking Magiaran or are they speaking some sort of Eterian dialect that I don’t know,” Fermboi asked, turning his face to Vazaral.

“How should I know,” Vazaral replied.

“Right, you’re not Alyana,” Fermboi muttered. “I don’t know, you have a weird accent too.”

INSERT FIGHTING DEMON SCENE HERE.

“No, I’m not concerned, I’m in disbelief,” a fat young man said. “The way he annihilated that demon was unlike I’ve ever seen before.”

Fermboi and Vazaral were in the only inn near the Spiky Hills of Bayla. It was there in the hills where people died from abnormalities within the stomach and overexertion with the heart. Several days ago, Fermboi and Vazaral witnessed four overeager individuals enter the hill gorges and be mauled by the demons that lurked in its confines. Vazaral had noted their level of excitement was unusual and so Fermboi was forced to investigate.

“Come on now, it was just your regular death demon,” another compatriot of the fat young man said.

“No, the Magiars had a word for that particular demon as it plagued the legends,” the fat young man said. “Kisert.”

“Come on now, Darso,” the person who swore earlier said. “Next you’re going to tell me that the Kisertet walks among us and is slowly whittling us down.”

Fermboi frowned. “What’s kisertet?” he asked Vazaral.

“It’s just a kisert with the et for Eteria and signaling a little bit more strength,” Vazaral replied. She munched on her chicken drumstick. “Our ancestors have really done the Magiars good to add our prefix onto their language. And you’ve already killed a kisert easily, so this one should be no big deal.”

“It’s no big deal?” Fermboi asked. “That boy mentioned something about it walking among us humans.”

“Oh yeah, it’s right beside them,” Vazaral said. “You see that pretty girl over there?” Vazaral pointed her chin. Fermboi followed. “She’s the kisertet poisoning the food here. Luckily she can’t outright poison the minds of people.”

“W-Wait,” Fermboi said in a concerned tone. “You knew that was the demon when we entered the inn?”

“I’ve known since we entered this area,” Vazaral stated as she took another bite on her chicken drumstick. Fermboi stood up but Vazaral pulled him down. “Let them bed her, we’ll see how these Milites Four handle her.”

“But they’re from the Kardia School,” Fermboi protested. “They’re going to be wasted potential.”

“Let them be,” Vazaral said. “They’d have been your competition in the Kardia School. Better to remove any potential rivals now.”

“Did you do that?” Fermboi asked in a slight fearing voice. The girl in front of him was only around his age and she had already surpassed what thirty years of nonstop cultivation was supposed to produce.

“No, I’m simply talented,” Vazaral stated. “Although your cultivation has already propped up to Milites Five, it is nothing to my Capitenus Dominion that is three ranks away. Sorry, I don’t know how else to phrase it.”

Fermboi put his right hand over his face. It was the first time his wife had said words hinting of pride. “Okay, okay,” he said. “So what do we do then?”

“We go to our rooms,” Vazaral replied as she drank from the wooden cup.

Fermboi paused. “The demon would’ve been weakened by tonight?”

“No, tomorrow,” Vazaral said, standing up. “They’re not even gonna scratch her.” Vazaral offered her right hand to Fermboi. He stood up.

“But I’m tired from killing the demon just now,” Fermboi said in a whiny tone.

“You’re lying,” Vazaral said. “And you’re going to lie in front of thousands next week.”

“Of course?” Fermboi asked with wide grin.

INSERT MORE TIME OUTSIDE BAYLA TO TURN THIS 8.7K WORDS TO 20K WORDS, LOL.

In the southern streets of Bayla, there were parade toll booths that blocked the way to the main event.

“Okay, so then you’re absolutely sure you don’t need our life insurance?” the toll man with crooked teeth said.

“Of course,” Fermboi repeated. “I’m winning it, wanna wager?”

The crooked teeth of the toll man genuined his smile. “Oho, young man,” the toll man said with a clicked tongue. “If you win this tournament, my family will treat you to some quality straight from Tsin.”

“You promise, Travis?” Fermboi asked with a grin as he walked past the barricade and away from the toll booth.

“Yes, just don’t die on me young man!” the toll man shouted.

As Fermboi approached the main stage, he could see the impatience within everyone’s eyes.

“Fatumoyira Shapak!” the announcer yelled. “This is the third and last call. If you don’t come out now, your match will be forfeit.”

Fermboi walked slowly towards the circular arena. Soon people at the front saw his advance and they made way for him. The arena circle was huge and secluded from the crowd by low chain fences. It would take at least several dozen steps to go from one side of the circle to the other.

“Is that the former tyrant’s son?”

“He’s probably banged many girls, at least one.”

“Yes, like father and son.”

“Oh, he’s done, he’s facing the third favorite of the sun.”

“But what can he do, he can’t run.”

“Hey, throw him a bun, he might need it after Fidlos shoves him with fun.”

“Yeah, I heard the young master of the Trasos family is a cun.”

“Cun or cunning?”

“Is it cunning?”

“Cun doesn’t exist you moron, that’s why you’re not taking this test.”

“What, it’s a friendly fight anyway, he can still advance with the paper test.”

“Give it a rest, Tes, everyone knows if you lose this friendly martial test, you also lose face.”

“Who cares about your foreign concepts of shame, Xijung, we’re not in Tsin!”

“But we still expect the strong guys to surely win?”

“Shush, it’s a sin to talk about a dueler’s fate at this rate.”

“Well, what else can we do, he’s made us all wait.”

“Fate is a fickle thing, remember?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“The son of the former tyrant may win by a fluke.”

“Well of course he’ll win, I’ll even go to Malong and puke.”

“Tes, shut up about my sister or I’ll report you to the duke.”

“Xijung, we don’t have a duke overlooking our cities like your Tsin, we have tyrants here.”

“I don’t care, say one more word about puking on my sister and I’ll have your ear.”

“Doros, can we give this pal of ours a combined definition of fear?”

“Tes, shut up, already, the Shapak heir has already shown aflare.”

“Yeah, that’s right, not even both of you guys can give me a scare.”

“Xijung, you shut up too, the battle’s about to prepare.”

Fermboi drowned the mutterings as he approached. He then went into a serious stance position as he stepped on the white circular painting. His opponent was on the opposite side of the circle. An old man was right in the middle and he motioned for both to come.

“I’m Fatumoyira Shapak!” Fermboi shouted as he approached the middle of the circle.

Fermboi’s opponent was receptive. “I’m Tetus Trasos, please give me your all!” Fermboi’s opponent bowed.

“Okay,” the coarse, aged voice of the old man said. “This is a friendly banter between all participants of the martial test. Please refrain from producing any serious injury.”

“Yes sir!” Fermboi and Tetus shouted. They then walked backwards to their original position. The old man stepped to the right painted floor of the circle in Fermboi’s vision.

“Tetus Trasis versus Fatumoyira Shapak!” the announcer shouted. A horn blared. “Start!”

Tetus ran at full speed. Fatumoyira approached the increasing closing distance by walking. Tetus was a few steps away when he gestured for a right hook on Fermboi’s jaw. Fermboi ducked.

“How the hell did he duck a son of Trasos’ punch?”

“Isn’t he in Guwerior Seven, how is that possible?”

“Maybe Tetus wasn’t at full power.”

“Are you stupid Doros, I’ve seen Tetus use that punch against Fita.”

“And looks who’s stronger now.”

“No, still that punch would’ve dislocated a jaw.”

“Nah, that tyrant son is way better, I bet one silver coin on it.”

“Are you sure Xijung, you’ll regret it if he loses.”

“Shut up Tes, you can’t even fight me.”

“Fine, I’ll just take your silver.”

Fermboi listened to the many different murmurs of people as he skipped backwards away from Tetus’ flurry of punches. Every single one of them had missed.

“How the hell can you dodge my attacks?” Tetus asked, panting. He had stopped with the punches and stood a couple dozen steps away from Fermboi. “You’re not even Guwerior Dominion.”

Fermboi did not respond and instead ran towards Tetus. He did not allow Tetus to counter. He ducked Tetus’ left hook. Then he brought his left fist up the right rib of Tetus. The short black head hairs of Tetus became somewhat long as he was brought upwards before the innate force of nature brought him back down.

Half of the crowd was silent while some had continued their endless cheering. Half of the endless cheering were for Tetus, Fermboi figured, as they stopped a moment after Tetus started clutching his right side.

“Fatumoyira Shapak wins!” the announcer declared, breaking the development of silence.

“Tes, give me a silver.”

“He’s gone.”

“Doros, what?”

“Tes ran away after the punch connected, he’s probably at Aunt Trela’s.”

“Damn it, that betting loser!”

Several running steps were heard from the crowd. No doubt the news of the third favorite of the martial test falling would spread like the fire during the driest days of summer.

“What a bummer,” Vazaral said in a soft tone. “You could’ve ended it quicker.”

“Nah, that was just for them to over prepare,” Fermboi replied as they walked towards the harbors.

“Okay, we’ve arrived at the quay,” Vazaral stated as she sat on a wooden staircase near the river. She stared at the water below.

“Wait, say it again,” Fermboi said as he mirrored Vazaral’s position.

“We’ve arrived at the quay?” Vazaral said with raised eyebrows. She turned towards him.

“I thought it was pronounced ku-wei,” Fermboi stated.

“Ka-wai?” Vazaral asked. “That means cute in Torean, I’m talking about the harbor here.”

“No, I mean you just said ki,” Fermboi said. “As in the energy that the Monkey King of Tsin uses to fight against his long lost ape brother.”

“You mean chi?” Vazaral asked. “I think this is one of the many differences between our dialects.”

“You and your aunt sometimes speak really peculiar,” Fermboi stated. “Where do you guys actually come from that has such variation in words? I know some of the villages here in Thasos speak Eterian that’s not even intelligible to those outside of them. But yours seems familiar and not that different, so it can’t be that far.”

Vazaral smiled. “Husband, if I tell you I’m a princess of some faraway land, would you believe it?”

“Of course!” Fermboi replied in a quick, sharp tone.

“Then I’m not a princess of some faraway land,” Vazaral stated with a wide grin.

Fermboi was skeptical. “So what are you then?”

“I’m just a small town girl from southeast of Bayla,” Vazaral stated, looking away and back to the surface of the slow-flowing river.

“Huh,” Fermboi said. “What’s its name then?”

“Lapirusia,” Vazaral said with confidence.

“The one with blue rocks?” Fermboi asked. He knew there was a mining city south of Bayla that produced lazurite.

“No, that’s Lazuria,” Vazaral stated. “We’re further down.”

“Huh.”

“We’re not that famous or anything.”

“Obviously, because I haven’t heard of it.”

“Exactly.”

Bayla was not one of the larger cities above the Intima River, so it took six shorter incense sticks to go from the north end and down to the harbors. Three large and thick incenses would also be comparable and one of those passed by as Fermboi and Vazaral stared at the slow-moving Gaster River.

“Hey look, the sky is green!” Fermboi shouted, causing Vazaral to look up.

Vazaral frowned. “I thought I saw it flash in the water.”

“I know, I saw it in the water too and immediately looked up,” Fermboi said.

“You know that’s the first time I’ve seen something like that,” Vazaral stated. “Do you think it’s a good omen?”

“I saw a flying ship, I think,” Fermboi said. “It looked like a ghostly one with the green tint.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Fermboi said, staring at the horizon. “Oh shit, we’ve got to get back, it’s probably my second match as the sun has set.”

Fermboi and Vazaral removed their hanging legs from the edges of the wooden staircase. They headed back to the circular arena.

“Fatumoyira Shapak, for the love of Mara, please come out quickly!” the announcer said. “We’re giving you like seven announcements now because you’ve impressed us.”

Fermboi had arrived by himself near the crowd. Vazaral went somewhere higher for her viewing spot.

The crowd parted like how the sea god of the Oveans did with the sea using his trident. Fermboi’s opponent looked bored.

“Are you the boy that defeated Tetus?” Fermboi’s opponent asked as the old official motioned for them to go in the center. “He sucks.”

“Are you Fita?” Fermboi asked.

The brown hair of Fermboi’s opponent swayed left to right. “I’m bound to face him in the finals, I’m Palinos.”

“Alright guys,” the old man between the two fighters said. “As I said before for each of your previous fights, this a friendly banter.”

“Yes, sir!” Fermboi and Palinos said as they retreated back.

The horn blew and anticipation on the spectators grew.

“Isn’t Pali the number two?”

“No, it’s where Budaism is from.”

“Shut up Xijung, even I know Budaism comes from Ancient Eteria’s Katarachias Mountains.”

“Tes, Xijung, now’s not the time to argue, let’s just watch the fight.”

“Yeah that’s right kiddos, you’ve been talking for the past dozen battles about who’s who, stop talking or I’ll yank yer pants out of you.”

“Yes, elder!”

Fermboi looked back and found the trio bowing to an old woman. He then looked back at Palinos. They both refused to advance.

The crowd grew still as nothing happened between the two fighters. “Fight, you fuckers!” a young voice shouted. The crowd chanted the word “fight” with increasing volume.

Palinos still refused to budge and so Fermboi sprinted. Fermboi threw a right hook at Palinos’ cheek and Palinos had raised his left hand to block.

Fermboi’s right hand was stopped.

“What?”

“How is that possible?”

“What happened to his strength?”

“I thought that boy was a demon genius earlier.”

“I swear I felt his punch before and it was much stronger than now.”

“You’re not even cultivating, how can you know.”

“Magic, Elder Teros told me how.”

“Your old grandfather?”

“Mhm.”

Palinos had his mouth agape. “What?” he muttered. Fermboi threw another punch and Palinos blocked it again. “You’re much weaker now, what the hell happened.” Palinos left his stationary positioned and advanced towards Fermboi. Palinos threw a left hook on Fermboi’s jaw and it connected. Fermboi fell on the ground. Palinos frowned. “Holy shit, you’re pretending.”

Fermboi grinned before standing up to punch Palinos. The brown-haired youth did not block it and fell down on the ground. “What the fuck, you’re copying me now?”

If Palinos did not move out of the ground in the average time it took for hares to couple, Fermboi would be declared the winner. He did not want that this time.

“I don’t know why you’re pretending, but I sure as hell aren’t allowing you leave without trouble,” Palinos said as he put his arms behind his head on the ground. Fermboi stood in front of him and the crowd waited. Fermboi raised his right feet above the groin of Palinos. The brown-haired boy widened his eyes and shifted to the right. Fermboi missed. Palinos stood up with angered eyes and cried. “You dare destroy my manhood!”

Fermboi blocked Palinos’ punches to no avail. Fermboi’s face had been battered and beaten like a chicken’s egg in the mouths of a saurdus. Fermboi fell on the ground when Palinos put a great amount of force on a right hook.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

“Six.”

“Seven.”

“Eight.”

“Nine.”

“Hare fucks!”

“You’re too early!”

The crowd was disappointed. Fermboi stood up and lunged at Palinos with his own heavy right hook. It connected with the lower left jaw. Palinos dropped on the ground with closed eyes.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

Palinos stood up, rubbed his left jaw and stared down Fermboi. Then, with a warcry found only in those who actually were in a war or considered them to be in, Palinos sprinted as gushes of blood poured over his teeth. Fermboi went into a defensive position and waited.

The back-to-back fist fight went back and forth. The crowd still had their mouths agape at such a sight. The clouds had blocked the sun and completely darkened the night. Torches around the crowd were passed around. The red liquid pools on the arena were varied in dryness.

“Hey, is this supposed to go until midnight or will it spill over tomorrow.”

“Are you a foreigner, your words sound funny.”

“Yes, I’ve come to the city to trade my goods.”

“Oh, what do you sell.”

“Bushels of fine hay from Yuhas.”

“Oh.”

“So is this supposed to take place overnight?”

“Oh yes, it is, it goes until sunrise.”

“So these kids are nonstop fighting?”

“Yes, with great intervals, it’s not supposed to take this long though.”

Palinos grew irritated and put his remaining strength onto a right hook. Fermboi ducked like when an arrow from his previous life penetrated his front men’s shields. Then he raised his right fist to connect to Palinos’ chin.

“He’s knocked out.”

“They both looked deathly as hell, that tyrant’s son is surely the one with better stamina.”

“Look at how long that took, I don’t think even Fita can outlast that.”

“What are you saying, Fita is definitely stronger than Palinos, he’d wreck that tyrant son a moment after the official gives the go.”

“I agree, I think Fita has been unscathed so far this tournament, he’d already beaten five opponents without a single scratch.”

“Oh boy, I can’t wait for that match.”

“Isn’t this the tyrant boy’s second match?”

“Yes, he has more to go and I don’t think he’ll make it past the next ones even though he defeated the second favorite.”

“Can’t the officials stop the fight and declared them forfeit from him?”

“No, although it is rare someone for someone to die during these tests, they never impose a limit.”

“Why is that?”

“The martial schools say that those with perseverance will be guided.”

“Oh shit, I wish I can last that long to chop my wood.”

“Oh, what’s stopping you?”

“Blocked meridians.”

“Oh.”

Fermboi walked away from the bloodied arena as the next combatants were announced. He just had four more to go through. He headed for the harbor.

“We see things as they are, not as we want them to be,” Fermboi said as he and Vazaral crossed the harbor market. It was lit at the night show. “Besides, even though we only got one night though, but we can do it twice though.”

“Is that an antidote?” Vazaral asked, ignoring Fermboi’s hinting.

“No young mistress,” an old man said. “‘Tis a potion fit to empower your beauty.”

EXPAND MORE, THERE’S A TRANSITION WITH THE TRAVIS SCOTT- ANTIDOTE REFERENCE.

Fermboi pondered. “What if we add padded gloves on their hands?”

“The boxers?” the man asked.

“Yeah, maybe they’ll last longer.”

“The user or the opponent?”

“Both.”

GENERIC LINE BREAK HERE.

*boy-knight barges on Vazaral and Fermboi in their tent outside the cave everyone is about to explore.

“Zilodas, I don’t know what to say,” the boy-knight began. “You’re so beautiful and I don’t know if I swing that way.”

Vazaral rolled her eyes.

Fermboi chuckled. “Damn it boy-knight, lol.”

The boy-knight said, “What do you mean, this girl has beautiful brown eyes!”

Vazaral has brown eyes like Azisa and Fermboi couldn’t detect Azisa’s true blue eyes as she dwarfed his senses. Only reason he can see Vazaral’s is because of his exposure to Petera Eter. Well, Petera, as the old man that gave the sphere to Fermboi, allowed Fermboi a peek at Vazaral’s history. Nothing will come out of this though. Fermboi will just know he’s fucking royalty and that’s it. It’ll never be mentioned. Maybe Vazaral would become crown princess and then Fermboi can rule Vafia, but nah. Idk.

after this duel with swords, vazaral becomes the silent tsundere, lol.

THE ABOVE LINES HERE REFERENCE THE VAZARAL VS. FERMBOI DUEL EARLIER, OUTSIDE BAYLA.

“Look at those kids with large bellies.”

“They’re suffering from protein deficiency.”

THESE TWO LINES ABOVE ARE SUPPOSED TO PROBABLY BE ANOTHER SCENE OUTSIDE BAYLA BEFORE THE MARTIAL COMPETITION.

Eskailer. From Schuyler. From Hamilton, the play. Alexander Hamilton. Lol. Yeah, so Aventina meets Fermboi a la Angelica Schuyler meets Alexander Hamilton as described in the song “Satisfied.” Lmao, that’s my favorite song of the whole thing, I think. Been listening to it for the past two days nonstop. So Aventina’s last name being Eskailer is from Skyler or Schuyler. Aventina is not named after Angelica; I forgot who Aventina was named after, I think it’s an original name of mine.

I THINK THIS IS A NOTE FOR AN AVENTINA CHAPTER, I MIXED THEM ALL UP AS I CLEANED THEM UP.

2016-06-16 Notes:

There are some references here, like Buddhism starting from Pali, Kid Cudi Day N Nite, The First Law Logen Ninefingers, Travis Scott Antidote, et cetera. I think those are the ones I caught right now. The whole work isn’t entirely references.

Anyway, the martial competition was supposed to be Chapter Five or whatever. I have it in my notes. But eh.

So the martial competition is kinda like pandering with the reaction speech/dialogue. I don’t think I’ve explicitly said this, but I put the sex scenes right at the front so that I don’t have to write more later, id est if there’s a sex scene, it’ll probably just be a passive mention cuz I’m sick and tired of not using “member” as a synonym for the length of the penis, lmao. I actually used “penis,” I think.

Anyway, so Chapter One to Chapter “Four” here were edited in three hours. I’m gonna post this on RoyalRoadL for more feedback I guess. So the side characters, Monghe, Aventina, Derai, and Bolahulag, they have at most one chapter complete and I think Chapter Three and Four take place after. So I don’t know if I’ll upload with the side POVs.

This isn’t meant to be a parody or whatever. It’s kinda like a glorified shitpost but I’m actually trying to write and there’s some tense errors and whatnot and this “chapter” is just approaching exactly nine thousand words. This chapter is the only one unfinished or fragmented as fuck.

Aight, so ya, to RoyalRoadL people, let me know what you think. Updates are gonna be slow as fuck cuz I haven’t touched this in months and just now am kinda inspired. Meh.

God bless.

2016-05-17: Holy, as I posted most of the chapters (all except the wild Chapter Nine which is like 10k words in Google Docs), I realized this is so incomplete. Like most RoyalRoadL/amateur novel works. Damn bruh, what a life.