“Here’s to a job well done!”

  “Hell yeah!!!”

  “Cheers!”

  The battle was over, and everyone was making merry.

  “Well done.” Raynold joined in, striking a mug of ale against his comrades’. They were at the Boar’s Head, celebrating another job well done. Everyone was looking over at their table, whispering rumors about what they’d accomplished.

  “Not every day that you kill a dragon.” Everyone, every patron, waitress, and passer-by turned to look straight at Mitchell. So much for an air of mystique. Their questions were answered and people weren’t as hungry to know the juicy details. If they’d waited a few more minutes the rumors would have said they’d hunted an elder dragon.

  “Gods, I can’t wait for that Guild money to come pouring down. I already know exactly what I’ll buy.”

  “Mitch, is money all you think about?” Frey asked.

  “And what if it is? Not all of us are city boys who grew up with all the bells and whistles of society. I grew up on a farm! With six brothers and three sisters! You’re damn right I only think about money, I’d never seen more than a Crown before coming to Bream. What about you, Ray? Don’t tell me I’m the only one enjoying the spoils.”

  “All my money goes straight into equipment and training. Everything else is a waste of time.”

  “Liar! I know for a fact that you like to smoke the good stuff. Elven moongrass, imperial cigars, none of it comes cheap.”

  “That’s different. It's just a little something for me to stay motivated.”

  “Ah, so you do get me! A little treat here and there, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Personally, I’m more into the liquid kind of fun: potatoes, wheat, rice, doesn’t matter what it's made of as long as it goes straight to the head.”

  “Hey, don’t try comparing my cigars with some cheap whiskey. When I’m trying to have a good time, I know how to really savor things.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “I’m saying you’re unrefined, you hick!”

  Mitchell threw a punch straight at Raynold’s face. If he’d had ten more drinks he might not have dodged in time. Instead, he summersaulted across the air, landing gracefully with an unusually playful flamboyance.

  “I’m going to enjoy wiping that smug look off your face!”

  “Oh, do try. Then you’ll really know who's on top.”

  “I'm two for three Raynold. Maybe after tonight I’ll be a real warrior.”

  “Need me to pop your cherry?”

  The two of them lunged at each other, but no real killing intent was thrown around. Despite that, a dozen ways of breaking Mitchell suddenly flashed through Raynold’s mind.

  Take the bottle and smash it against his temple. Empower it with Qi and after you’ve put him in a lock you can break his arm. Put the jagged edge under his throat, push, and swipe! Feel the lifeblood pour out of him as he writhes-

  Raynold snapped out of it just in time to see a closed fist right in front of his eyes. It never connected. Neither did Mitchell bleed to death. Instead, Frey interposed himself between the two, stopping them dead in their tracts.

  “That’s enough. We’re here to celebrate, the last thing we need is to waste all of our earnings on new furniture.”

  “Are all warriors like this, always fighting over every little thing? Not you though Frey, you’re different.”

  “Oh Elaine…”

  Raynold and Mitchell looked at each other. No words were exchanged, but they understood each other perfectly.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  These two need to get a room…

  Suddenly, neither of them was very eager to continue their bar fight. They went back to the table, where one drink turned into two, and two into four, and four into eight until they couldn’t tell up from down nor why they’d ever been at odds.

  “By the way, Mitchell,” Elaine asked, “what did you mean earlier, ‘two for three’?”

  Mitchell looked awkwardly at the other two men in the group, wondering if he should explain. It was Frey who answered.

  “It’s a warrior thing. They say that to be a real warrior, you need to do three things: overcome your instincts, get seriously injured during training… and kill a man.”

  “Oh. Oh! Oh…”

  “Its not something we usually talk about with people outside the profession, but it's not exactly a secret either.”

  “Then, Mitchell. Have you ever…?” She trailed off.

  “I’ve been seriously injured and I overcame my fear. When I was still in bootcamp I passed out from exhaustion while climbing a wall. I almost broke my back. The other time is from before I learned to use aura. I fought a bear.”

  “We just fought a dragon, is a bear really so scary?”

  “It is when you’re a normal person. No strengthening, no movement techniques, no enchanted sword. Just you and mother nature. The entire time I was fighting for my life. I could’ve died from any mistake."

  “Haha! I guess you’ve got a point. We really have come far, haven’t we?”

  “In my case,” Frey shared, “I burned myself pretty badly when I was still getting the hang of the Vorpal Sword. My instructor wouldn’t let me see a healer, either, so I was forced to walk around without eyebrows for a month.”

  The table laughed at the image of straight-laced Frey without any eyebrows.

  Raynold had to wonder, had he embarrassed himself just to put them all at ease? Maybe he was a better leader than he’d given him credit for.

  “Then, what about you, Ray? Ever been injured real badly in training or had to overcome your fear? Or, or, don’t tell me, but have you ever killed a man? There’s no way that’s true, right?”

  He was expecting the question, but he didn’t think she’d be so direct.

  “Right?”

  “I’m sorry, Elaine, but my stories aren’t as fun as these twos’.” He took a deep breath, and the three of them focused on him with rapt attention. Damn their nosiness, why couldn’t they mind their business.

  “You know how I use lightning arts, right? Well, when I was first learning them I gave myself a heart attack. I would’ve died if my master hadn’t found me in time.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

  “It’s alright, but there’s a reason we don’t talk about this sort of stuff with non-warriors. The sword isn’t for decoration, it’s meant to be used. And that comes with all sorts of dangers”

  Frey and Mitchell went all pensive now that the quiet part had been said out loud. They knew full well what waited for them if they continued down their paths.

  Raynold’s Master had always been very blunt, giving him no delusions of what he’d be doing. Swords were a tool of killing, and martial arts the ultimate expression of that particular craft. The only way to achieve true mastery of either was through their application. But lordy, was it hard.

  “Then, the other stuff…”

  “Again, my master. What he did was simple: he struck at one of my vital points while unleashing his killing intent. If I wanted to survive, all I had to do was move out of the way. And here I am.”

  It was an understatement. The overwhelming pressure of an Evolutionary Grandmaster was like the weight of the world bearing down on one’s shoulders. A rabbit caught in a wolf’s gaze could more easily move about.

  “...” Elaine seemed caught between wanting to ask more and reading Raynold’s expression. Pointedly, he had not answered all three of her questions.

  “Just who in the world is your master? Every time I hear something about him it seems more outlandish than the last.”

  “Wait, you really don’t know?” Mitchell asked incredulously.

  “Should I? It's not like Raynold ever talks about himself that much.”

  “Still, did he really never tell you? No, actually, how did you never find out on your own?”

  “Will you please just tell me who this guy is?”

  “He’s a bigshot from the Jang Empire! Apparently he was part of the fight against his country’s version of a demon lord, and right after got involved in a war against someone at the creation realm. He even fought right here in Bream when the city got overrun. Everywhere he goes, he gets involved in some crazy high-stakes battle for the fate of the world. He’s-”

  “The number two most powerful adventurer in all of Bream, a genuine Sword Master, and the master of one lucky apprentice, who gets all the clout and teaching for himself, ” Frey interrupted, cutting off Mitchell’s fanboying.

  Careful, Frey. Green is a bad look on you. This is why I always avoid talking about him.

  Finally Raynold spoke for himself. “My master is Aldebaran Ix Nidra… and he’s one hell of a guy.”

  “I’ll say. But if he’s so great, then where the hell is he?” Elaine asked.

  “It's complicated.”

  “And if he’s the second most powerful adventurer in Bream, he should be part of a Clan. Why aren’t you with him?”

  “Again, it’s complicated.”

  “Still-”

  Elaine never got to finish her sentence as someone sauntered straight up to the table.