《Drifter》To Be A Hero Part 1

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Prelude

My name is Rainel Ding.

It is not common tradition in Lyster to have surnames and most who do have families from other countries, so my last name, Ding, was given to me during my time in Zlitia, where I grew up.

I was born poor and filthy in the slums of Kaldros. My mother, oh how sweet she was, but she was as pitiful as one could be. The world had beaten her down from the first day, and she had absolutely no talent in anything whatsoever. Yet out of sheer will she somehow managed to land a job working in a noble's manor as a maid, being paid just a tiny bit below what was needed to survive, but survive she did.

So, everyone was surprised when she announced that she was pregnant. To whom?! Can she support the baby?! Did she find a new job?!

She did not find a new job, she would not be able to support the baby, and she had been raped and then subsequently fired so that the man who did it would not get into trouble.

How she managed to survive the next year is something even I could not understand, but she managed to get through it and have a healthy young baby boy, me.

My mother always told me that the reason she was so misfortunate was because all of her fortune must have gone to me instead, that I was like a light that appeared from the heavens to save her from the darkness. She subsequently gave me an amulet, passed down across the family, it was nothing more but a cheap rock, but she told me that it gave her the luck to survive across hard times, and that I would find much better use for it.

People could never believe that I was actually her son. I could communicate full thoughts and sentences by three, I had the strength and Anku of an adult as early as six years old, and I was ambitiously learning as much as I could. Every day I would sneak out the house, traveling miles to the school far away up the hill for rich kids, eavesdropping on whatever I could hear without getting too close. Education was the ticket to a better life, and I had to get ahead while I still could.

I instinctually knew that I was going to have to grow up very quickly or else my mother wasn't going to make it, I would find some jobs, shady or not and work relentlessly to secure our future, but of course, that's not what happened.

Every year, approximately four-hundred people disappear from Lyster. Almost exclusively the poor and impoverished, those who's disappearance wouldn't be noticed by society. They are most often sold off as slaves to various countries and were one of the most valuable products out there.

And it just so happens that I was traveling alone every single morning to sneak into the rich kid's school. An ten year old kid, walking through town without an adult in sight, I'm surprised I lasted as long as I did. I never told mom cause I didn't think I needed to. Kids need to make mistakes before they learn and grow up.

And so I simply disappeared from the world. I ripped apart the chain and gem during the struggle and threw it far away. It was my fleeting hope that my mother would somehow find that chain and survive for my sake, that the amulet would one day be whole once more.

I woke up a couple hours later on a ship bound for Zlitia.

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After a year I escaped my slavery.

After two and a half years I had enacted revenge upon my slavers.

After four years I had made a name for myself.

After seven years I had become one of the most powerful men in the country.

Finally, eight years later, during the early stages of the war, I returned home, out of concern for my mother who was still living in Kaldros

There were many reasons why I didn't return earlier; however, I set those aside when I heard about the king's assassination at Kaldros, and so I went and became the hero of Lyster, securing battle after battle with never seen before techniques and strategy learned during my time in Zlitia.

Eight months later, victory after victory, our army finally was on the cusp of reclaiming Kaldros, the city where it all began.

The Invasion of Kaldros

I draw my swords, watching as the mortars rain upon the walls, carefully calculated and timed to disrupt the enemy's initial volley of arrows.

"RAUGHHHHHHHH!" The army roars with raw determination as we begin advancing forward. We would begin spread out in tightly nit groups. Instead of a singular large mass to shoot at this would make it a lot harder for the opposing archers.

We traverse over incredibly uneven and rocky terrain, yet hold our positions tightly.

"Take it slow and steady! The arrows cannot penetrate the shields if we don't panic!" I shout.

"To the east! Squadrons 309 and 310 have been pincered!" I hear voices carry over the battlefield.

"Giving up on the arrows huh?" I whisper lightly. I was surprised at the lack of tactics both sides displayed when I fought in my first battle. It was a very guts or glory experience, both sides charging and turning each other into a bloody mess, lots of clueless people waving swords around and little to no shields or spears. Swords are the weapons of fighting, but spears are the weapon of warfare. You need skill to use a sword properly, years of training, but you only need a week to use a spear properly.

Makes sense when neither Lyster nor Oliviand have been in a war for almost a century. Compare that to Zlitia's raging multi-sided civil war, and it felt like I was an adult among toddlers.

"We are too far away, focus on the task at hand." I shout without bother looking to the side. "In fact, this is our chance to generate some buzz, fly feet!" Enteric was close by over there, they should be fine.

We drop the shields and rush forward, spears and weapons waving in the air as people swing their arms back and forth, and if our squadron was on fly feet...

I watch as various spread out squadrons also drop their shields and join the charge, until the mass resembled a triangle shape, like a spear piercing through the earth.

Almost instantly thousands of archers pop out from behind the walls and take aim.

"DON'T FALTER, WE'RE ALREADY PASS EFFECTIVE RANGE." But our group was the only ones safe, the trailing soldiers immediately come to a stop and raise their shields, having approximated the ranges beforehand, losing us about 60% of the charge.

Meaning that we were about to make first contact with the ground force. I tuck my head in and focus as arrows whiz over my head. Inner peace, I still have an army to lead, do not let battle fury take over... yet.

As expected. I watch as thousands of armored troops filter out the gates to meet us head on, the enemy was using primarily swords, no shields, no nothing.

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"Ground Feet!" I yell at the combined squadron behind me, slowing down to a brisk walk with their shields held up. Right, time to make an opening.

I dart forward like a lightning bolt, bloodstained blackmetal swords in both of my hands, dragging against the wind. I am no longer using the gauntlets and heavy armor as per usual. No, this is much much scarier.

I throw one blade forward, burying itself into the grass ahead. I dash forward and take one step onto the hilt with all my momentum, swinging my arms upwards to redirect my speed vertically, and I soar above the enemy line.

I hold out my hand, recalling the blade back into my grasp, with great dexterity I then let go and simultaneously unsheathe the four other swords behind my back.

All six swords flare out into the air like a spinning wheel and for a moment, time seemed to be suspended in place. I take note of the distance between the two forces and mentally calculate the time before impact.

I have three seconds.

In quick succession I grab 2 swords and kick the other four into a spin, I then use that torque to then send my body into a spiral, creating a maelstrom of blades.

A millisecond later I land and rend straight through the enemy line... Blood, metal, and guts spray over the air from the singular person who was stupid enough to contest me. I had jumped on purpose to give them time to dodge anyways, my purpose here is to disrupt.

I immediately concentrate my Anku and flick my eyes back and forth, assessing the situation. From their stances these guys are too shook to charge me right now, I have a couple of seconds before they regain their wits and I gotta fight from all angles. Fighting uphill is disadvantageous so I gotta open up a gap quickly in the front. Act now!

I whip around and charge in. "BEHIND YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!" I shout, hoping to create panic. One guy turns around only to turn into three blades, one in my hand, two floating in the air, slicing through his armor and chest.

The two blades scatter back into orbit, slicing through a neck on the way back. This type of fighting is just too unpredictable, even the most skilled fighters have to respect it since it's not muscle driven, therefore much harder to read with body language. Of course, there are always exceptions.

I raise my swords once more as the enemy soldiers refocus and begin collapsing into me. At the same time the charge was about to hit the defending soldiers.

"Sore de jokai." I utter underneath my breath, a common saying in Zlitia, may the best stand victorious.

Shouts, screams, blood and entrails, as the battle went on I could hear a progressive ringing in my ears drowning out all other sound. Battle fury, I couldn't hear anymore because I didn't need to. I didn't think anymore because I didn't need to. In this moment in time we were all animals reduced to our basic primal instincts.

However, on the other hand I was still consciously keeping track of the tide of battle, dropping in and out of the state to plan my next moves, adapt and predict, then fall back into battle fury with my new knowledge.

Mind and instinct, two opposing forces, both having their strengths and weaknesses. If you rely on mind, you suppress your instincts and likewise if you rely on instinct, you suppress your mind. Yet I am able to strike a perfect balance... No, I am able to exceed in both departments.

One peckish looking man attempts to grab one of my swords out of midair and parry my slash. The sword instantly wrenches itself out of his hand as I rush up to him driving my sword towards his throat, but then preemptively freeze before I kill him. "Nice move." I compliment him and then drop my sword. Pale faced, the man quickly scurries away.

I watch as the crowd density falls, most of the enemy were now in a fall retreat. Right, I need to calm down, I've already driven away the defense, now we just need to force our way through that death trap.

I look at the gate in which hundreds of enemy soldiers had been positioned at, having wisened up a little, this time all using spears instead of swords. I was doubtless that there were many trap mechanisms prepared under the stone arch as well.

I crack my neck right to left and readjust my grip. Guess it's time to do what I do best.

I hold my hand out and begin charging forward, all six swords gathering around my arm.

"Careful! He's charging!" I hear a shout from close by.

All of a sudden, I lift my finger up and send the swords flying like a harpoon, each and every one burying themselves into the massive wall forming a makeshift ladder.

I whirl to the side and redirect my speed towards the hilts, kicking off the ground into the air, then jumping off each and every one.

"HE'S SCALING UP THE WALLS!" I hear a shout from below.

"Too late!" I laugh as I make it up to the top retrieving all my swords as they wobble out of the stone and back into my hands, 100 meters of height in a flash. Before standing in front of multiple shocked archers on the wall.

I then freeze and close my eyes for exactly five seconds. Five seconds of mercy if facing those weaker than you, giving them an opportunity to flee, another one of the many values taught in Zlitia.

I swiftly tilt my head to the side as a knife passes by my neck, and then I open my eyes. I catch the man trying to stab me right in the jaw with a swift fist, turning around into a spinning back kick to the chest, knocking him straight off the side of the wall.

“Go home to your families already, you do not belong here.” I say as my swords whirl around me. It was something I said every single battle. Nobody should belong to the battlefield, it’s an unnatural product of egotistical men who do not experience it themselves.

I rush toward the staircase, overwhelming and cutting down anybody who stood in my way like a machine.

I quickly make my way down the stairs, slashing through the damp, dimly lit hallway. Then, disarming all the trap doors and traps. Poison, acid, fire, sharp spikes, they had loaded up with nearly everything here. Finally I look around to see that I was the last one standing.

I then bring my thumb and middle finger to my mouth in a hand-whistle and blow hard, the shrill sound pierces through walls and the noisy sound of battle outside. Signaling that the gate was safe to storm, my signal would then be relayed across the rest of the army, telling them which entrance to collapse in on, once we get into the city, that’s when the real battle will start.

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