Each step the men took echoed in Raen’s head like a drum. His breathing slowed down to almost nothing, and sweat formed on his temple, tracing a slow line down to his jaw.

  His hand clenched around the hilt of his sword as the man closest to the bushes shifted leaves aside with the tip of his blade.

  His eyes found Raen.

  ‘No other way then.’

  Raen exploded out of the undergrowth, low and fast, making no sound.

  Adam and Jason were half a step behind him, erupting from cover as if uncaged.

  The enemy hadn’t even finished widening his eyes before Raen was on him, five steps closing the distance in less than a second.

  Raen swung from the right, a horizontal slash aimed at the torso, but the man twisted, throwing himself back just in time. The blade still caught him, opening a line across his chest. He was bleeding, but the wound was shallow, not enough to stop him.

  Jason struck forward with a spear, lunging at the soldier closest to him. He drove his spear forward in a thrust aimed at the chest, but the enemy deflected it to the side with a sharp slap of his sword against the shaft, knocking the point sideways.

  He didn’t do it cleanly, though.

  The spear grazed his ribs, causing the man to wince, a hiss escaping through his clenched teeth.

  As for Adam, his strike was the most brutal, his fight lasting less than two seconds.

  He swung his hammer downwards, putting the full weight of his body behind it. The soldier attempted to raise his sword to block it, but he was too late.

  The hammer fell down on his face before the blade could get high enough to block. The impact was sickening as a wet, crunching sound seemed to silence the forest for an instant. Facial bones shattered beneath the hammer as blood erupted from all of his orifices. He fell to the ground, his sword escaping his grasp.

  “Dammit, where the hell did they come from?!” The fourth soldier shouted, drawing his sword and quickly lunging at the nearest opponent, Raen.

  Raen noticed him, stepping back and allowing the hasty slash to pass through empty air. The man had committed to the strike, putting too much weight into it, leaving himself wide open.

  Raen didn’t capitalize because the leader was already on the move.

  Raen placed his sword vertically to the right to meet the leader’s strike. It was powerful and precise, nothing like the wild lunge of the fourth man.

  He angled the blade to redirect the force, but it wasn’t enough. The leader was stronger than he expected, the impact of the blow driving Raen’s guard sideways as the blade slipped past, grazing his side.

  The leather armor he wore offered little resistance to the sharp blade. The pain was instant and sharp, leaving a burning line of pain.

  The fourth soldier came back immediately, banking on the opportunity the leader gave him. This time, it was a straight thrust, aimed at Raen’s face.

  It came fast, too fast to be deflected. The point of the sword moved toward Raen’s face, and for an instant, the world seemed to slow. The tip was getting larger and larger as Raen stared at it, his instincts screaming danger.

  Raen tilted his head to the right, and the blade passed inches from his neck.

  The soldier flipped his wrist, trying to catch Raen on the backstroke. His attempt, however, failed as he was forced to abandon it.

  A hammer struck the ground the man’s foot had been an instant before. The man had seen it coming, barely, and had thrown himself backwards.

  Now it was back to Raen and the enemy leader.

  Raen gave ground, and the man stopped for a moment before stepping forward. He then lunged, his sword turning into a blur, coming from Raen’s left.

  Raen’s old instincts screamed for him to parry with his left.

  But he held the right hand on the sword.

  For a split second, both his hands froze, fighting each other as the blade inched closer to him.

  And then, a voice – calm and unhurried, echoed inside his head: ”Both hands, one weapon.”

  Raen stopped choosing, and instead, he let his right hand guide the block while his left drove the counter-thrust, his movement flowing together, still awkward, but functional.

  The enemy’s blade clanged off his own, Raen’s counter slipping past his guard, stabbing into his left shoulder.

  Not perfect, not pretty, but effective.

  The enemy leader stumbled back, eyes wide. From their previous exchange, he expected hesitation, Raen fumbling his stance. Instead, he was injured.

  Jason noticed Raen’s battle, adrenaline coursing through his body, his mind going blank. His hands shook on the spear shaft, which his enemy noticed and lunged whilst grinning.

  Training then took over as Jason thrust.

  The enemy parried.

  Jason pulled back and thrust again, this time higher.

  Another parry, but slightly slower, a fraction of a second.

  Again, low. The man stepped to the side.

  Low again. The tip grazed the ribs a second time, and the soldier’s face tightened.

  Again.

  Again, and again.

  Jason didn’t think; he simply kept moving.

  Thrust.

  Pull.

  Thrust.

  Pull.

  Each strike was mechanical, just like the numerous times Jason had drilled the exact sequence in the training yard. In a matter of seconds, the defense of the enemy soldier crumbled under pressure. He couldn’t advance, he couldn’t counter, only react to Jason’s relentless barrage.

  A few seconds later, his movements turned sluggish, and his sword dipped, blood flowing out from the multiple wounds he received across his body.

  Jason’s final thrust arrived, punching through leather and flesh, straight into the lungs.

  The man collapsed while Jason just stood there, spear still extended, chest heaving as though he had been sprinting. He stared at the man on the ground, watching the way his mouth opened and closed without sound.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  He swallowed hard, only to be woken up from his stupor by the sound of steel clashing. He looked to the side, only to see Raen watching the leader with a calm, measured look that didn’t match anything Jason had seen from him before.

  Raen released the sword with his left hand – extending it forward, held by the right – and tucked his left behind his back.

  The leader stared at him. “You little –“ His face contorted in anger, making the scar tissue around his jaw go white. To him, Raen was second-grade at best, and yet he dared taunt him after scoring a single lucky counter?

  He lunged.

  Raen’s left hand came out from behind his back, and a dagger left his fingers.

  It crossed the distance between them in an instant and buried itself in the man’s right shoulder. The man faltered for an instant, his arm losing strength, sword falling from his grasp.

  Raen moved, closing the gap. He drove his sword through the man’s right hand, the blade passing through the palm and tendon.

  The leader’s legs buckled, and he went to his knees, the sword – still in Raen’s firm grip – being pulled free from the hand.

  A wet crack suddenly echoed, prompting Raen to glance to his left. Adam stood over the fourth soldier, his head smashed to pieces.

  Raen glanced to the side, clenching his sword.

  The soldier who’d been struck in the face at the start had gotten back on his feet at some point during the fight and was dragging himself toward Adam’s back, being carried by adrenaline and spite.

  Raen then relaxed the grip on his sword as a spear entered the man’s back and cleanly exited through his chest. Jason stood behind him, face pale but arms steady, never loosening their grip over the spear.

  Adam nodded at Jason, who nodded back, his chest heaving.

  Raen didn’t waste any time and grabbed the enemy leader by the collar.

  “Where are you meeting the spy? What is the password?”

  The leader merely smirked at Raen before spitting in his face.

  Raen didn’t flinch. He reached forward, grabbing the dagger still stuck in the man’s shoulder, and twisted it. A groan of pain escaped the man’s lips as his face twisted, still staring at Raen with nothing but hatred.

  Raen then took out the dagger and stabbed the man in the stomach, not deep enough to hit anything vital, but more than enough to hurt. He then did it again.

  “It’ll take quite a lot to kill you like this,“ Raen said, his voice calm and unchanged. “I can do this all day, your choice.”

  Jason looked a little sick upon seeing the sight while Adam clenched his jaw, not stopping Raen, but not really okay with what he was doing either.

  “Go … to … hell.” The words came out broken, dragged through pain, but the hatred was there. He lifted his head, staring straight into Raen’s eyes.

  “You … scum … of-“

  Swish.

  The man froze, his sentence cut short by an arrow that suddenly struck from behind.

  “Take cover!” Raen immediately shouted, and Jason and Adam quickly went behind the trees. They stood like that for several seconds, staring at one another before Raen glanced from cover, unable to see a thing.

  Some more seconds passed, and Raen took off his coat before flinging it to the side … nothing.

  Adam then did the same, taking his military uniform off, and moving it to the edge of the tree, and yet nothing.

  Over 2 minutes passed, and underneath the shocked gazes of Jason and Adam, Raen moved out of cover, picking up his coat and staring into the distance.

  “If he was going to shoot again, he would’ve done so by now,” Raen said before looking at the dead bodies. “He only struck to silence this guy, he could’ve hit one of us first.”

  “Adam, pick up two of them, Jason and I will carry one each. Let’s report this back to camp.”

  “Why do it, though? He wasn’t going to talk,” Adam said as he picked up two bodies, flinging them over his shoulders.

  “Exactly,” Raen said as he pulled the arrow out of the man’s body, examining it. Standard issue, no markings, could’ve been any archer in camp.

  “But the spy didn’t know that, or he was just cutting loose ends.”

  “Whoever fired this wanted the operative dead, but didn’t want to fight us. That’s not enemy behavior, that’s someone who needs to go back to camp before they’re missed.”

  ***

  “Hey, what’s that?” A soldier on duty at the camp asked another, staring at the distance where 3 figures could be seen coming closer.

  “Hmmm, isn’t that the patrol? Raen’s squad, right?”

  “Yeah, but doesn’t it look like they’re … carrying something?” The soldier asked, prompting the latter to narrow his eyes and stare ahead.

  Several seconds later, as the trio got closer to the camp, the soldier widened his eyes, recognizing what they were carrying. He quickly turned around, shouting at the soldiers walking through the camp.

  “Everyone on standby!”

  The camp suddenly bustled with activity, soldiers staring at Raen, Adam, and Jason, who had arrived.

  “The bodies, they’re our own soldiers?”

  “An enemy ambush, maybe?”

  “These men are not our soldiers, but enemy soldiers disguised as our own!” Raen said calmly, glancing over the soldiers who didn’t move from their spots. Some were apprehensive, some slightly doubtful. “Return to your posts, there’s nothing more to see here.”

  “What the hell is this display?!” A voice echoed, cracking like a whip as soldiers parted the way. A man angrily walked toward Raen and his men, the soldiers saluting him. His long coat scraped the mud, but he didn’t seem to care.

  A silver stripe and stitching across the shoulders marked his rank.

  “Major Vares, sir.” Raen saluted, as did the other two, one body falling from Adam’s shoulder as a result.

  Vares didn’t return the salute. His eyes were fixed on the corpses before narrowing on Raen.

  “Disguised enemy soldiers, sir.” Raen quickly said. “They attacked us during our patrol because we overheard their conversation.”

  Murmurs spread through the soldiers present, with the Major glaring at the body Adam dropped.

  “You come back carrying bodies in our colors, and expect me to believe they’re the enemy?!”

  Raen’s eyes narrowed. “Sir, if you examine the bodies, you’ll find –“

  “I’ll examine whatever I want, whenever I want, ‘squad leader’. Vares said, stepping closer toward Raen, strands of his black hair falling over his forehead. “But first, you will explain why you decided to parade corpses through my camp, spreading panic amongst my men, instead of sending word ahead like any soldier with half a brain would do.”

  ‘Tch, damn bastard.’ Raen thought, but his face stayed calm, giving nothing away.

  “We returned to immediately report our findings, sir. We didn’t want another patrol to stumble across –“

  “Excuses.” Vares cut him off. “You could be flogged for this alone, not to mention the suspicious circumstances of –“

  “I don’t think such a thing to be necessary, sir.”

  The crowd parted again as a person walked toward Vares, his lone silver stripe deflecting the rays of the sun.

  “Captain Anderson, sir!” The soldiers all saluted enthusiastically.

  The salute snapped sharper this time.

  “Anderson, coming to shield your men?”

  “Not at all, sir, I just believe they did nothing wrong,” Anderson said, standing about a head above the Major, smiling down at him with a benevolent gaze.

  “I just don’t think it’s good for morale for such hard-working soldiers to be punished. They brought the bodies of enemy troops back for investigation and immediately returned to report.”

  Vares held Anderson’s gaze for a long moment, his jaw trembling. He then clicked his tongue and turned around.

  “You are still one of the 3 Captains serving under me, Anderson,” he said, not looking back. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

  Anderson smiled again as he watched the Major leave.

  “Now, let’s see what kind of mess you got yourself into, shall we?” Anderson said as he turned to Raen.

  ***

  Anderson’s tent was larger than most, benefits of being a captain. Paperwork was still present on his desk, but in a smaller number than yesterday, and a lamp burned in the corner, giving warmth to the space.

  “Stitching slightly off, and they wore wrong boots – cavalry issued, not infantry. That’s the only difference between what they wore and what we issue, correct?” Anderson looked up and asked Raen, the only person in the tent with him.

  “Yes, sir, and … we overheard their conversation. They were going to meet up with someone from inside the camp, a spy.”

  “Bold claim, any evidence?” Anderson’s expression didn’t change, but his fingers drummed the desk once.

  “This.” Raen placed the arrow on the desk. “The spy killed the enemy mid-interrogation with this.”

  Anderson picked it up, examining it. “Standard issue.”

  “Exactly. Whoever killed that operative was not leaving anything to chance. They didn’t want to fight us either.”

  “I think someone in this camp wanted that man dead before we could learn anything, sir.”

  Anderson was quiet for some time, turning the arrow in his hand.

  “I’ll report this to the battalion commander,” he finally said, his voice low. “This information must be acted upon quickly.”

  He then studied Raen for another moment, then nodded. “Go rest, and don’t mention this to anyone else. I don’t want to spook them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, and don’t worry about Vares, he’s still sore about being demoted – a lot of bark these days, no bite.”

  “Yes, sir,” Raen said, saluting before leaving the tent, causing Anderson to shake his head before looking down at his notes with a serious expression.

  ***

  It didn’t take Raen long to go back to his tent. Evening had arrived, the sky outside dark, the last traces of the sun fading in amber traces. His squad was already there, scattered across their cots disorderly, as always.

  “I don’t like that guy,” Thatch said, turning a dagger between his fingers. “The Major.”

  Mark chuckled, taking a sip of wine that nobody knew where it came from. “I don’t think anybody likes him.”

  “He’s like a poisonous viper,” Dral said, running the whetstone along the axe’s blade. “One wrong move, and you’ll be in danger.”

  Raen nodded, the analogy was apt.

  “I heard you managed to take down your opponent,” Dral said as he lifted his eyes from the axe, settling on Raen.

  “You’re getting used to the stance?”

  “Yes. Your training really made a difference, Dral.” Raen said. “Thank you.”

  Dral nodded once, then returned his attention to the axe.

  “You are a fast learner.”

  The rest swarmed Raen after that. They wanted to know more about the fight and about what Anderson had said.

  “Nobody is getting punished?” Jason asked as he dropped down on his cot, exhausted. “Not even a fine?”

  “Nothing, Anderson handled it,” Raen confirmed.

  “My salary’s safe,” Jason said, his voice so genuine and unguarded that it caused a ripple of laughter to move across the tent.

  Raen sat on his cot, taking a chug of the wine Mark offered him, taking the atmosphere in. He stared ahead, one thought in his mind.

  ‘Three days until the scouting mission.’

  What are your thoughts on the characters so far, especially the new additions of Vares and Anderson.