Part 1

The air was damp and heavy with moisture as the last surviving droplets of dew glittered the green patches of tall grass. A thin fog covered the tortuous road leading up and around that side of the mountain. It wasn’t bothersome, as it did not obstruct our vision, but rather calm in an eerie way. It had been a while since I noticed the increasing number of streams and small rivers. Supposedly, they all led towards the valley below us and dove into the lake taking up half of the valley’s size. A faint, constant noise, like that of a swollen river, reached my ears as it was softly carried by the wind.

Our group was silent, just like every other morning. This early, none had the mental fortitude and energy to strike up a conversation other than a few words here and there, thus I found my mornings to be just as I liked. That peacefulness was my cue to enter a meditative state halfway through wakefulness and unconscious mind. I had been doing that for a while, figuring out the best way to keep one eye on the physical world and one in the mental. Still, though I called it a half-meditative state it was nothing but a half-baked way of doing things. Imperfect and shallow, it carried little results compared to a full meditative state. I was blind to the movements of mana of the outside world, faintly feeling them with my “sense”, and my own mind was an impenetrable fortress. Not that I wanted to step into it either way. The only reason behind the use of such a crooked meditation was to study the movements of mana inside my body. To be precise, the lack of them in a specific part of it.

It felt fluent in every bit of my body, just as I felt it every day of my life before meeting the skeleton. My mana flowed smoothly through my circuits, moving from leg to leg, to torso, heart, arms, and head. It was the same harmonious instrument I was accustomed to, and yet, somewhere around my left arm, the flow distorted. It felt as if a wooden bridge had lost a couple of planks and thus forced those who wished to cross it to jump over the hole. Alas, whether that “hole” was in my palm, elbow, bicep, or shoulder, I couldn’t tell. My left arm was simply covered in mist. Thin enough to allow me to see my way forward but thick enough for me to be unable to distinguish the details.

Calling it simply bothersome would have been an insult to the feeling of being unable to understand my own condition. I loathed it and more so the skeleton.

I sighed heavily as the frustration that built up from being unable to see past the mist threatened to explode. On my left, Ballarak and Julie were leisurely conversing. It was mostly Ballarak though, who seemed to enjoy being able to recount another one of his stories. This time, it was about his first years living alone in Drughmin, the dwarven capital. It was an interesting story, pitiful in a sense too, in which he got obsessed with smithing and went around all the blacksmiths he could find in hopes that someone would take him as an apprentice. Julie couldn’t stop laughing every time Ballarak received a harsh rejection.

I was so focused on that simple, pointless, and frivolous yet heartwarming interaction that I didn’t even notice the road taking a turn. My horse did though. I heard him neigh in his discomfort as I tried to lead him straight as he moved to turn. Alarmed by his call, I snapped my mind away from my companions’ conversation and toward the front. What greeted my sight was nothing short of breathtaking.

“Aye, friend-” Proudly announced Ballarak as he noticed my now agape mouth “- That is Drughmin. Capital city of the dwarven lands and the jewel of our best stonemasons. A work of art in and of itself!”

Dwarven patriotism is said to know no bounds, if the honor of their land or their own is wounded, dwarves are said to pay the grudge tenfold. Thanks to this absurd level of patriotism, whatever compliment to their homeland comes out of a dwarf’s mouth is usually highly doubted. Yet, as my sight settled on what was waiting for me over the corner, I saw no trace of lies or boasting.

The road we were treading skirted along the side of the mountain for a few more kilometers upward. As the side of the mountain became steeper the higher the road treaded, beams of stone and decorated arches began sprouting from the mountain like flowers. The road also became more carefully built the higher it went, walls of stone to the side, lamps and lamposts, and oval stones took over the pebbly road.

Further up, the number of arches supporting the road increased and the road distanced itself from the mountain. The bridge that resulted was magnificent, to say the least. Beams of stone rose from the ground, deep down towards the foot of the mountain, and stretched towards the sky like giant fingers. Wide enough to be confused as towers and adorned in a similar style to Corinthian columns, those monstrous steles of whitish stone, connected one another using arches, supported the long bridge that connected one side of the mountain to the other. At the start and at the end of the long stone bridge decorated with intricate designs that resembled geometric shapes, four statues stood guard, two on one side and two on the other.

If the myths were correct, those four statues easily surpassed the height of the Colossus of Rhodes. Maybe even more. They were built upon ledges of naked rock reinforced and embellished by columns and arches. They looked human at first, even though a sensation in the back of my head felt like that statement wasn’t truly correct. Only upon further inspection and less distance, I figured out where that sensation stem from. There was a certain dissonance between the height of the torso and that of the legs, with the latter being shorter by a good margin. That is when I saw them for who they were: dwarves. Four dwarven warriors clad in plate armor with runes etched all over them. High boots that reached just below the knee covered their feet as a battle skirt flowed gently over their knees, exposing just one to the onlookers. In their hands, they each held a different weapon. One held a heavy-looking war hammer as high as the dwarf with the pole resting at his feet. Another brandished an axe and a wide, circular shield. The other two held, respectively, a battleaxe and a sword and shield. There were two other big differences between the four statues. The first was their helmets which came in four different variations of the same iron helmet dispensing on the type of horns and shape attached to it. The other was the color of their eyes, an effect created by a wise use of light stones and stained glass of different colors.

I had no words to describe the beauty of the sight before me. I was simply stunned. Left with my mouth wide open in awe. From below where we were, those statues looked so real as if four giants had been frozen in stone and threatened to shed their shells to walk this earth once more. I could vividly feel the amazement seeping into my very fibers. But that wasn’t enough. My amazement didn’t stop there. It was only after we reached the summit of the road, where it connected with the bridge and three more smaller roads, that I saw the statues’ ingenious design. Whilst walking on the bridge and looking at the statues’ eyes, one could feel themselves being followed by the statues’ gaze. It was an optic trick created with the use of mirrors in the statues’ eyes and a careful angulation of the glass. Still, it was such an impressive effect that I failed to notice how mesmerized Julie was. So much that Ballarak had to keep her steady by her waist lest she fell. Truly a magnificent design.

“I see now why dwarves are said to boast so much about their architecture-” I said as I called for Ballarak’s attention “- Can’t say I traveled much but this…this is one of the best sights I had ever seen! It’s majestic!”

“HAHA! I take this excitement from the frigid ye as the highest compliment!-” Replied Ballarak as he laughed loudly and slapped his knee repeatedly “- But be ready, there’s more from where these came from!”

That comment sparked my interest and the sudden realization that the dwarven capital was more than just a bridge and four statues hit me. I pried my gaze away from the four colossuses and went beyond the bridge. There stood a mountain, much taller than the one on the other side, and thicker too. On the side of it, after a short esplanade of rock carved to resemble tiles, a giant gate dug into naked rock opened the way to the heart of the mountain. On it, carved on the black stone of the gate, two dwarves stood, looking directly at each other and holding one side of the door each. One was a male while the other was a female, both wearing expensive-looking garments along with a cape and a crown. The way those two dwarves were carved seemed as if they held the gate in place, looking with one eye at those who approached. Behind them, carved with much less detail and smaller shapes, countless other dwarves filled the ranks of those two crowned dwarves. On the man’s side, warriors with their unsheathed swords and axes marched as one single entity. On the woman’s, dwarves carrying hammers and saws, strange papers and gems, fruits and wheat, and pickaxes all danced with joy. At the edges of those two scenes was a boundary made of two thick lines encrusted with glassy gems and in between a series of spirals resembling the triskelion.

On top of the gate, carved out of the mountain’s stone a couple of meters over the top-most part of the gate, stood a balcony filled with guards and one big horn at its center. A number of braces as tall as a man hung from the balcony and showered the gate with bright, orange light, casting its lower bits in ominous shadows. I cast my eyes a bit further, a bit wider. At the edges of the esplanade, as if to encircle us, black obelisks grew out of the tiled stone and rose at a height of around three meters. Each of them had words carved in white on all four surfaces, though I could not see what language they were written in from that distance. Further behind the gate, at a considerable distance, six towers rose from the mountain’s stone with no particular regard for distance or order. One I could barely see the dark-blue roof while the others, except for the closest to the gate, were half-hidden by the mountain itself.

Those towers were built in a curious manner and appeared more like spires rather than the usual human towers or those of magic construct. Some grew vertically, others coiled a bit around themselves while others bent diagonally, rising towards the sky only at the end. Yet, the one thing that did not change was how each and every block that was used to build them was of different shape and form. They were all of a greyish color with black veins, yes, but some blocks were as high as the obelisks on the esplanade while others were as small as the bricks of my old world. I could not help but wonder a the kind of ingenuity used to build those towers.

“Still gawking, uh?-” Chirped Ballarak with no small hint of cocky pride in his tone “- Well, better stop now and get a move ‘cause I ain’t wanna be stuck in line ‘fore the gate. Those lazy sons of- ehm, not respectable mothers? at the gate hold us up in line”

“You are really struggling not to swear, are you?” I asked, amused.

“Oh shut it!-” Grunted Ballarak with a mop “- Ain’t ye the who asked?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I can stop you from swearing, can I? What am I supposed to do, cut your tongue out? Even I’m not that evil. Taking away your ability to recount your over-inflated and absurdly exaggerated stories. I’m no monster, though I admit, the idea did cross my mind once or twice” I replied with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah, keep talking shi-...all you want. Still, I wouldn’t want to spoil the little lass’ ears-” Answered the dwarf with a guilty look in his eyes “- No matter, no matter! Let’s get moving. I can’t wait to sit my arse in a tavern and drown in ale. First round’s on me and I ain’t taking no for an answer…Wait…Ye can drink, right?”

“I can but I won’t-” I said shrugging my shoulders and spurring the horse toward the line formed by two travelers, a handful of miner-looking dwarves, and a beast-kin merchant with a cart pulled along by a bulky ox with long, wine-colored fur “- It’s…not for me”

“Then I’ll force it down yer throat if I have to” Replied the dwarf as he led his horse beside mine and patted me heavily on the shoulder.

“I’d like to see you try” I replied smirking halfway through a threat and a joke.

The dwarf’s judgment was correct. It was a good idea to rush to the line forming in front of the gates as soon as possible since, not even five minutes after we joined the line, a cartload of people traveling packed like sardines on the back of an old carriage. Amongst them were miners, one priest two or three adventurers, and common folk, all huddled for the sake of cheap transport. Along with those, others came up towards the long bridge. Some traveled by foot while others, those who seemed wealthier, used some strange elevator clearly powered by a flux of mana. It was a thick, circular slab of stone of the diameter of a round four meters. It was carved with similar tiles to the esplanade but also had a wind-rose-like motif carved at its center. Below the stone, where the rock seemed more natural and slightly shaped like a triangle, were light-blue crystals glowing discontinuously. On their surface, runes I could not understand nor clearly look shined dimly in golden light.

By the time the two guards, clearly lazy and already tired with the day’s work, had finished checking the merchant’s cart and his wares, twenty long minutes had passed and the line grew consistently. Our turn came but since we had a dwarf with us, especially one known widely such as Ballarak, the guards’ checking was fast and our group was granted passage into the city. The tunnel that followed stretched deeply into the bowels of Mount Beul Oralì, tilting just slightly downwards. It was nothing like the tunnels of a dungeon or labyrinth, it was wide, enough for a whole royal carriage to go through, and brightly lit with mana lamps. Several smaller side tunnels were all guarded by dwarves and the like clad in full-plated armor and wearing the blue and silver colors of Drughmin’s guards.

Suddenly, after ten minutes of incessant walking, clean yellow light began shyly bathing the tunnel. It then grew bolder and bolder until our entire bodies bathed in its strange warmth. It took me a handful of seconds before I could finally open my eyes again. The sight that greeted me was truly breathtaking.

“Quite the beauty-” Smirked Ballarak with a wide grin across his face “- aint she?”

I was too busy gawking and trying to understand the sight in front of me to answer. Drughmin was huge, bigger than any city I had ever seen before. The center of the mountain where the city sprouted out had been completely dug out and its walls smoothed. On the very summit of the city, about a kilometer high it seemed, warm yellow light shone all the way down through the several levels of the city. Along with it, several other sources of light brightened the hidden city from all over the walls. An ingenious use of small tunnels, mirrors, and stained glass created a similar feeling of warmth to the real sun rays.

The city was built in levels. Circular floors around that hole in the middle that increased in size the further down one went. The biggest source of light. From where I was, I could count roughly two levels above ours and one below, though I had the suspicion that there were more further down. Wide stairs and mana-fueled elevators connected one floor to the other. The buildings were extravagant, the likes I had never seen before. It seemed as if the dwarven architects had carved houses, shops, multi-story buildings, and mansions all out of a single stone block. As if that block was dragged all the way to the middle of town and carefully worked with hammer and chisel by a master craftsman to hollow rooms, create windows, elevate columns with intricate designs, carve roofs and doors. It felt absurd and mesmerizing both. Though stone of various shades of black and grey was the main building material, wood, clay, glass and cloth were also used. Shops had little, colorful pergolas and gazebos where most eye-catching products were displayed. Mansions had terraces made of wood and most houses’ roofs were the same with tiles made of hardened red and blue clay.

“Bit of explanation is in order, yes?-” Said Ballarak as he coughed two times and waited for a comment. Seeing as I had nothing to say and simply looked at the man, waiting for an explanation, he continued “- Drughmin’s built on five levels. We start counting ‘em from the top so we’re now on the third level. Which is basically like a business hub of sorts. Shops and all sorts of guilds and associations have their bases here. There’s the artisans’, the forgers, the adventurers and more plazas than a man can count. Of course, people live here as well. The second level is mostly houses and fancy clubs, like those sons of a goat from the Historians Association! *Blegh* Anyway, lots of houses but fancy and expensive so mostly wealthy merchants and nobles live there, along with those who have the coin for it. First level is the Royal district. Not much to say about that, is there?”

“You mean-” Asked Julie with a sparkle in her eyes and a tone full of curiosity “- there is a castle inside the mountain?”

“Why yes, dear lass!-” Replied Ballarak as he slammed his palm on his chest with pride “- The most beautiful there is! Filled with gold and gems, towers that touch the ceiling, ponds, and gardens. It’s the symbol of dwarven royalty! But I don’t think ye will ever get to see it. My kind’s a bit strict when it comes to the first floor…Then there’s the fourth. Affordable houses, wineries, taverns and bars enough to drown the whole city in ale, couple of more…mature districts, if you catch my drift and more affordable restaurants. Finally, the fifth floor which is a bit on the poor side, I mean, it’s basically…”

“Slums” I said finishing the phrase before Ballarak could.

“Yeah, nailed it straight. The last floor’s basically a large, dirt-poor slum. Crime’s at an all-time high, dark guilds blossom like flowers and houses are dirt cheap. That’s where miners live and work. It’s on the fifth floor that the tunnels leading to the mines below open up”

We kept conversing for about twenty minutes more regarding the city itself and how it compares to other big cities, in my experience only to Alamara. As we talked we also walked until we reached a tall three-story inn by the name of “Belavere’s Feast”. The grey stone of the walls and the redwood making up the balconies and some other details created a soft, almost cozy, look and the mouth-watering smell of freshly baked pie added to the homely feeling. Besides the inn, built in redwood and lit by man-lanterns, was a stable with three horses, a donkey and an ox. An uncomfortable yet knowing silence fell as the three of us looked at the sign hung over the doorframe depicting the name of the inn and a dwarf holding a way-too-big slab of meat.

“Soo-” Said Ballarak in an attempt to break the ice of that awkward situation “- not good with goodbyes either, uh?”

“Or I just don’t care. Didn’t consider that, did you?” I replied with a smirk.

“Bah, lie as ye wish!-” Scoffed the dwarf with a knowing smirk of his own “- I know ye’ll miss me!”

“Are you really leaving?” Asked Julie with sadness painfully clear in her voice.

“Yes lass, I have a tournament to win, don’t I? But don’t worry! Ye’ll see this pretty face of mine s’long as ye stay in Drughmin. I’ve got a drink to share with this grumpy fellow over here and I intend, no, I must see him drunk!-” Loudly laughed the dwarf as he patted my back, or at least where he was able to reach, as he passed by with a spring on his step “- Be seeing ye!” He said as he walked away and disappeared among the crowd of people.

“*Tch* Didn’t even say ‘thank you’. What an asshole” I scoffed, earning a slap on the shoulder from my sister.

Part 2

Three days went by after we first arrived in Drughmin. The “Belavere’s Feast” was a cozy place, much like I expected and the room I shared with Julie was wide enough for us to feel comfortable in. Plus it was rather on the cheap side, something I had not expected from the dwarven capital. My mood was good, or at least better than it was before, and it was further bolstered by the so-called “dwarf-size” meals served at our inn. Apparently, the dwarf signature barrel-like belly shape was not only apt to store copious amounts of alcohol but also food, thus leading to me eating like a pig most of the time. Julien was even worse, ending each meal, breakfast included, with a busting tummy.

I spent most of my day running around Drughmin in search of information about survivors of the labyrinth, supplies for our upcoming travels, information of the world outside Drughmin and the dwarven lands from adventurers, and maps of the region. Julie would hang around me most of the time to “spend some time with me peacefully” but in truth, it was an excuse to explore the city and satiate her curiosity. I had no doubt that spending time with me wasn’t a part of her plan, but it surely wasn’t her first priority. Though she enjoyed exploring, half of her time was spent sleeping at the inn on the account that she was tired after all our weeks of travel, and exploring the city took more energy than she wished. Julie nagged me more than once about Ballarak and how we should have gone to visit him. Alas, he was too busy for that due to the preparations for the upcoming tournament and the whole lot of nobility wanting to speak with him.

A lot of my time was spent hanging around the guild, offering ale in exchange for every bit of information an adventurer could come across. Whether it was a map, rumors of survivors, or advice on how to face the monsters inhabiting the mountains, I accepted it all. The ale at the guild was cheap so even if I offered ten in a single day, I could not consider it as a loss.

Randomly, the afternoon of the third day, as I was busy talking to an old wizard who claimed to have extensive knowledge about drakes, their habitats and hunting methods, Julie walked into the guild. That afternoon she was supposed to stay back at the inn, a choice she herself made since she felt tired after exploring the daily market the whole morning, and I noticed her presence too late. By the time I heard her shouting, two men were already around her, one caressing her cheek with lecherous eyes and the other was keeping her in place by the shoulders. I did not utter a word or ask for an explanation. The second I heard her shout and turned around, my fist was clenched and ready to connect with the first face it found.

My first victim was an elf, the one caressing Julie’s cheek. He was younger than me, probably around fourteen or fifteen, or maybe he just appeared young due to his species’ longevity. It did not matter. My knuckles connected with his nose with a loud cracking sound as heavy droplets of blood drenched my hand. The elf, taken by surprise, fell to the ground while holding his bleeding nose and gasping loudly for air. I did not wait for his friend to finish his sentence and kicked the elf right around the sternum, effectively stripping him of all his air. Just for good measure. As I turned around to face the other guy, sharp iron scratched my cheek, leaving a thin trail of red across it. I dodged the next throwing knife by crouching and then using my lowered position to dash forward. My hand moved to the hilt of my sword and began to unsheathe it, but it was a feint. I needed only to extract a couple of centimeters of iron for my opponent, a tall yet clearly young adventurer with wavy ginger hair, to take a defensive stance. My plan was to have him jump backward, but that was good too. Taking advantage of his mistake I spun around, grabbing my sister’s arm and dragging her to safety, kicking him in the chest with my free leg. He curled up on himself as soon as he received the hit. He was clearly inexperienced when it came to close combat. My kick easily penetrated his defense, as it did my next fist.

Puking his lunch, gasping for hair, and with a broken lip, the ginger adventurer stumbled out of the guild as those present booed him heavily. The clerks and the other guild workers had rapidly come to the scene and were now busy restraining the angry adventures whilst also asking questions about the situation. One such clerk, a dwarf with a neat frown beard and prominent cheekbones, was trailing behind me and showing me with questions on what happened. I ignored him as I blindly followed my still-standing opponent. Julie was also following behind me, trying her best to explain the situation to the dwarf and attempting to dissuade me from going after the ginger. Alas, the moment he rushed out of the door, the ginger bumped against a stocky human carrying a sack of grains on his shoulder. The adventurer fell to the floor and the last thing he saw was my boot rapidly approaching his temple.

I sighed in relief, feeling my blood starting to slow down and the pressure threatening to dig a tunnel through the back of my head easing. I was just about to turn around and recount the situation to the visibly distressed clerk when a sudden shout followed by a grim silence and a chilling sensation coursing through my spike interrupted me.

“Hey, you!” Shouted the voice coming from somewhere among the dispersing crowd.

“Are you talking about me?” I asked as I darted my eyes around the crowd which had almost halved. Only those curious or clueless about the situation remained and formed a semi-circle around the entrance of the guild.

“What other bloke is making a damn mess like this in the middle of the street. AND IN BROAD DAYLIGHT AT THAT!-” shouted the voice to which I could now give a face. Namely, one of a dwarf around his fortifies with a thin, long scar across his forehead, penetrating obsidian eyes, and a mouth that resembled more the grin of a wolf “- This ain’t no fifth level. Here we do things to the law, with some damn order. You hear? Fuck, I’ve never seen your ugly mug before. New around these parts, outsider?”

“None of your damn business you oldie-” I replied scornfully as I clicked my tongue “- Isn’t the staff at the nursing home waiting for you? Piss off! He got what he deserved, no more than that”

A sudden chill ran down my spine, causing me to stop midway as I was about to turn to the guild entrance. My hand went to the hilt of my sword almost instantly. It was an all too familiar feeling along with a new yet intimate one. It was bloodlust. The only thing that changed was the direction. After long due, I finally took a good look at my clearly soon-to-be opponent.

He was a dwarf, just a bit shorter than Ballarak. His neck was broad and his shoulders even broader. Unlike the other dwarves, there was little trace of the round belly that made them all look like barrels. Instead, under the thin and tight ocher tunic, the faint shape of sculptured abs could be seen. Vaguely, but still there. His arms were lean with both biceps and forearms bigger than the common citizen. Leather straps were tied around both arms at the height of the bicep and leather armguards reached about halfway through his forearms. He was dressed rather comfortably, with clothes that allowed for fluid movements, except for his boots which were finely tailored and reinforced with iron under their soles. What little skin was exposed through his clothes was riddled with scars, some little and almost insignificant and others more prominent and deep. He had both the looks and attitude of a seasoned warrior yet dressed and carried himself as someone who frequents bars on a daily basis. The one thing that betrayed that statement was the warhammer strapped to his back.

He took a long look at me too, as I began the motion to unsheathe my sword and stopped midway. With a satisfied grin and eyes full of interest, he pulled a leather string tied around his waist and shoulder that released the hammer. The dull, booming sound it made as it hit the floor was a rough estimate of how much it weighed. With a fast and fluid motion, the dwarf reached for his hammer, balancing itself on the weighted end, spun it behind his back once, over his head twice, once in front of his body and then slammed it on the ground, creating a small cloud of dust on impact.

“So?-” he asked with a cocky grin “- Gonna get that sword out or do I have to beat ya half to death before you retaliate?”

My conscience, that little voice that is supposed to tell when something you’re about to do is dangerous, stupid, or wrong…it was gone. I dashed at him without a second thought. One hand keeping my scabbard firm while the other was clenching around the hilt of the sword. The very moment the dwarf entered the range of my sword, I unsheathed and slashed at the dwarf’s shoulder. I didn’t go easy on him, the chilling sensation running wildly down my spine warned me not to. The brief jolts of mana that I sent down my arms were enough to speed my swing to a degree where any common swordsman would need to focus all of themselves to parry. It was a fast swing, undoubtedly so, and yet I met no flesh and cloth but solid iron. I was taken aback by the suddenness of the situation and simply spaced out for a brief second as I watched the pole of the warhammer against my blade. The moment the dwarf began the first motion of his hammer spin, I jumped back twice and gained some distance. An action that generated surprise in the dwarf’s expression.

“Getting scared?” He asked, this time with a plain expression plastered on his face.

“Nah-” I replied shrugging before falling into stance “- just being cautious. You’ve got skills, that’s plain to see now”

“Uhh, I see-” dwarf said as he stroked his chin with the edge of his hammer “- Then let me be the one to come greet ya this time!”

As he said those words, he spun his hammer twice in front of him like a cheerleader with a baton, making it twirl around his body in a clear show of his skills. Then he advanced. He wobbled once, leaning to the right, then wobbled to the left, then right again until he covered half of the distance between us. I remained stationary, trying to understand the reason he moved like that. It wasn’t natural, yet wasn’t forced either. It was as if he was compelled to move that way by a foreign force. Alas, I had no time to finish that trail of thoughts since, out of the blue, the dwarf jumped at me and slammed the hammer from the top towards my head. I moved out of the way in time but cringed in horror as I watched his hammer create a small crater where I was a second before.

“You’re fast on your feet, little rat” taunted the dwarf.

“And you’ve got both brains and muscles as an ox, old man!” I replied mimicking his tone.

“Come on! ENTERTAIN ME!” The dwarf shouted as he slashed at me sideways with his hammer.

The next few minutes went on in a similar fashion where he would try and hit me with basic yet powerful movements and I would dodge, making full use of my nimbleness and the aid of mana a few times. To an untrained eye, our fight may have appeared like a stalemate, but the truth was enormously different. I was losing, and bad. Every once in a while, when the dwarf would leave himself unguarded after a swing, I would try to push through with a slash of mine. Yet every time, my blade met nothing but iron. No matter from where, no matter from which angle, how strong or how fast I slashed, pierced or feinted, the dwarf always saw through my movements and parried my attacks in the most elaborate and less energy-consuming possible.

[He’s toying with me] I thought as my blade touched his iron for the umpteenth time.

All I needed was one good swing. He had no armor and he seemed to underestimate me since I had the sensation, from the very start of our confrontation, that he was sabotaging and holding himself back on purpose. It struck me as odd, that behavior of his since he was the one that started the fight but I had no time to ponder on that. I sent mana to my arms and sprung forth like a spring, matching my opponent’s speed. Then, when he least expected it, I accelerated with a mana-fueled dash. Sword drawn and ready to slash, I was upon him.

“I’m getting real tired of those tricks of yours” The dwarf muttered so that only I could hear with a plain, bored expression on his face.

I smelt danger and I hit it bullseye. With a fast, fluid, almost inhuman movement of his arm, the dwarf parried my sudden slash with the pole end of his warhammer. Then, with an equally swift and inhuman movement, he slid backward and kicked me in the stomach while also striking my sword with the spiked tip of his hammer. A show of athleticism unfit of a dwarf but packing all, and even more, of those bulky creatures’ strength. I felt a rib crack, my stomach curl, a dull sensation in the back of my head as I rolled backward by the sheer force of the kick and the sound of metal shattering. It took a miracle for me to hold on to the last bits of consciousness. The moment I rose from the ground and sat up, I noticed that Julie was running towards me at full speed with an expression filled with panic. My head was ringing, causing dizziness and vertigo, and I could clearly, and most painfully, feel the broken rib biting into something soft. I coughed, felt the strong taste of bile sitting in my throat and forcefully gulped down. It was out of sheer pride that I forced myself not to puke my guts out. Julie was talking, pulling on the clothes on my shoulder as she held my fallen hat in one hand. I did not listen. Or rather, I couldn’t. The ringing was still beating strong against my skull.

“Listen here-” I said after taking two long breaths and using my sister as a brief support “- I don’t know what your problem is, but those guys deserved it. They put their hands on my sister, harassed her when she clearly wasn’t okay with it. Wouldn’t you say it was within my brotherly duty to teach them a lesson? Plus, unlike them or you, I never pulled out my weapon. Only used fists…Now I’m leaving fucker, this has gone far enough and I don’t have time for the antics of a bored, old man”

“Is that it?-” The dwarf asked with a repulsed look on his face “- Are you gonna back down like a bitch? You son of a whore!”

I froze in place. I had already turned around and was beginning to walk away with Julie trying to support me when I heard those words. Son of a whore. They rang in my mind louder than the pain from my fall. Son of a whore. Those words seeped into me. Through my skin, below my muscles, and into my bones. I felt them spread like a fungus, like a parasite, fueling something hot, something akin to rage, something that wasn’t supposed to be fueled. Son of a whore. As those words rang deafly in my ears, I felt my temperature grow until I could almost imagine my skin singe and my muscles burst in flames. I turned my head around, locking eyes with the dwarf.

“I will give you a chance. Retract those words and I’ll forget any of this happened” I said in a voice and tone that were definitely mine yet somehow different than usual.

“Ohh, is that so?-” The dwarf asked with an amused smirk and a devilish glint in his eyes “- Do you not like when people talk about your mummy?-” The dwarf continued as he spoke imitating a baby voice “- Don’t worry! It’s not an insult, you know, just the oldest job in the world! HAHAHA!”

Julie’s grip tightened around my sleeve as a thin, trail of blood fell down from her bitten lower lip. She had teary eyes, struggling to keep the tears at bay yet trying her best. The moment she met my eyes as if to ask me, plead me, to do something, to leave. Something snapped. A shower of molten gold fell over me, bathing in scorching hot metal, burning away all but my anger and bloodlust toward that damned dwarf. My muscles twitched in anticipation beneath my skin as my mana began pulsing through my body with the same intensity as my heart.

[Are you going to let him talk like that?-] Asked a voice from somewhere in my head with an inhuman voice and a prideful and loathing tone, almost disgusted with my behavior [-Your mother’s right here, on your waist. Will you do nothing? Will you let him insult her like that? This puny, pathetic thing dares to sully your name, your honor, and her reputation. So what if your lifespan will decrease? You never lived anyway, did you? Do it, what are you waiting for? Kill him!]

I turned around, feeling the muscles in my face shift. The hilt of the broken sword in my hand flew away, freeing space for me to fully use my hands. The mana that I was so careful with was now flowing freely around my circuits, providing the highest grade of boost that my body could sustain. Adrenaline and anger were numbing my body to the pain biting into my chest.

“Fuck it” I said knowing full well the consequences my actions were going to have but deciding to ignore them.

“YES! THAT’S IT!-” Shouted the dwarf as he slammed his hammer into the ground, creating a small crater and pushing the top spike into the tiles “- That’s what I was waiting for!”

As he fell into a stance with one arm guarding high and one ready to strike low, I followed with my own stance. Surprisingly, my instincts kicked in and I adopted a boxing stance. I glanced to the side where Julie was holding my hat for dear life. The horror on her face told me all I needed to know about the way my muscles strained under the skin on my face. Whatever smile I was showing, it was something similar to the night of the assault on Blackwall.

Wordlessly, we began circling around each other. The crowd was muttering. Inaudible sound to me. All I cared for was the beating of my heart against my eardrums and the sound the dwarf’s steps made. The moment we completed a full circle, we both jumped at each other. Both with a crazed, mad smile on our faces.

I got the first hit, an uppercut right on his jaw after dodging two of his punches. I was making full use of my boosts by activating them at intervals, keeping it unpredictable. The moment before a dodge or a strike I would fasten and grow stronger. I went back and forth for a good minute, exchanging blows as I was clearly the one in the advantageous position. In a minute, the dwarf suffered five blows. One on his chin, two on his chest, one right below the eye, and one straight to the stomach. Despite that, he almost seemed unfazed by my clearly unfamiliar martial arts and boosting technique, enough for him to land two blows. One on my cheek and one on my shoulder. Both felt like morningstars.

“That’s it!” He shouted as he attempted to break the stalemate with a kick to my shin.

I easily dodged thanks to the short range of the dwarf’s legs. Alas, it was a feint. Before I could land on the ground after I jumped over his kick, the dwarf grabbed my wrist with both hands and spun me around. Once, twice, thrice. I tried to regain the advantage by twisting in mid-air and getting my legs around his neck, but he saw through me. After the third spin, he let go of my arm and let the centrifugal force do the rest. The next moment, my back was slammed against the wall of a nearby house. Jolts of pain ran through my body as I screamed it out of my lungs. The broken rib ignored my numbness and made itself known once more.

“Come one!-” Shouted the dwarf as he excitedly gestured with his arms like one would do with a dog “- Get serious. Come on!”

I spat to the side, noticing heavy hints of red. I ignored it and resumed position, keeping my guard up once more, tighter this time. The subsequent exchange was close and personal. We were one in front of the other, throwing punches and attempting grapples. Right jab to the jaw, stopped midway to parry a heavy fist with my forearm. Dash to the side and low-kick prevented by the dwarf’s foot against my shin before the kick could gain considerable momentum. A frontal dash of the dwarf to make use of my momentary loss of a limb followed by my dash to the side and a punch to the gut parried by his elbow. An attempted headbutt ruined by a twist of my body and an uppercut, even though weak, against his chin. A fast kick against my lower stomach that I was forced to suffer due to my imbalance followed by a punch to the face in retaliation. Punch after punch, kick after kick, feint after feint, we continued to exchange blows for a couple more minutes as either parties suffered and delivered an equal number of blows.

“This is fun!-” The dwarf said with a proud expression on his face “- But it dragged long enough”

Suddenly, he moved faster than I expected. He momentarily disappeared and reappeared much closer to me with his hands resting on my shoulders. He pressed his thumbs down on my clavicles and forced me on my knees. Then, with a loud grunt, he slammed his forehead against my nose. A red curtain covered my vision and air got stuck in a place between my tongue and skull. The next headbutt came soon after, sending my eyes rolling back into my head. Then another and another until I could barely hear any sound and the world moved like mist in front of my feeble sight. My consciousness flashed in and out as I struggled to keep my thoughts straight.

I was on the ground. Julie was kneeling at my side, screaming something in my face I couldn’t hear. The dwarf was grinning satisfied in the back, watching me with the same proudness an artist looks at his painting once finished. Then Julie jumped between me and the dwarf the moment he tried to approach me. One of his hands landed on her shoulder and, with a jolt of force of unknown origin, I straightened my back and faced the dwarf as I tried to raise myself from the ground.

“Don’t…touch her…you bastard!”

“I commend your spirit, human-” replied the dwarf with a strange, inscrutable expression on his face and a tinge of envy in his eyes “- I had a different idea at first but I changed my mind. I will not hand you over to the guards, instead, I’ll just rob you of your gold and pay the entire guild’s drinks with it. The least I could do is ask for your name. You know, one warrior to another”

“...Raphael…” I replied, feeling my consciousness on the verge of fleeting…for good.

“Only Raphael?-” Asked the dwarf as he searched around my pockets while Julie bumped her fists against his face “- No surname for you and the little lady?”

“...Bluescale” I replied as my eyes fully turned into my sockets and my head fell back down.

The last thing I saw was the dwarf’s expression of surprise and horror as he stopped mid-action with a dumbfounded look and asked: “What?”.