01 The Start

Chapter: 1 Vol: 1

The once-green plains were now painted black, and the crystal-clear, calm waters of a small stream were dyed red in a heartbreaking scene: Corpses of men and horses piled up, spreading an oppressive smell of blood and rotting flesh. Coyotes and hungry crows cold be seen toring apart the remaining bodies.

In this scenario, a discrepant figure was notable: a little boy, no more than eight years old, dressed in dirty and battered clothes, struggled to remove a metal helmet from one of the many corpses lying on the ground. With some effort, he managed to take off the helmet from the corpse and placed it in a bag he carried on his back, emitting a slight sigh. He then stood up and gazed at the setting sun on the horizon.

The little boy's beautiful androgynous face was slightly illuminated by the remaining sunlight. His black hair was gently caressed by the soft, cool breeze from the northern plains, dancing in the wind. His purple eyes stood out even more on his soft, symmetrical face.

With resolve, he began to walk, ignored by the feasting coyotes and crows among the corpses. He headed towards the forest that stretched into the horizon, moving with slight swerves and near stumbles to the left and right as he struggled to carry the heavy bag.

After a few minutes, he finally entered the forest and hastened his pace. Night was approaching, and he knew the creatures of the night would waste no time in attacking a defenseless snack. The darkness engulfed everything around him with every step, and when he realized, he was alredy immersed in it, with only the faint glow of the full moon to guide his way, illuminating the road ahead but not the surrounding forest. so, he pressed on, looking for the light of a torch or any other indication of life.

Suddenly, his footsteps stopped, and the bag full of armor pieces fell to the ground with a crash. His pupils dilated, and his muscles became so tense that it was difficult to move. Using all his willpower, he grabbed a knife from his waist and turned tremulously to the left. When he finally came face to face with death, a lone gray wolf watched him from a few meters away. Its amber eyes reflected faintly in the glare of the light, and its vigorous fangs showed behind a hungry growl.

The little boy wanted to scream, but his lungs were busy trying to supply the sudden rush of adrenaline. He wanted to run but could not find the strength in his legs to move. Although he hated to admit it, he knew he was just a sheep about to be slaughtered. When he finally closed his eyes in resignation to his cruel fate, the wolf advanced aggressively towards its prey.

A painful howl broke the silence. The little boy opened his eyes just in time to see the beast, weighing over 80 kilos, being pierced by a spear and thrown several meters away, as if it were nothing but a stuffed animal.

Turning quickly in the direction from which the spear came, he saw a man dressed in simple, modest robes and covered by a black cloak. His appearance was beautiful, to say the least: about six feet tall, with golden hair, blue eyes, and the manly face of a man in his forties, with a well-built body and muscles apparent even in thick clothing.

Watching the man from a distance, the boy finally opened his mouth. His tone of voice was cold, but soft and pleasant to the ear: "Father."

A deep, resonant voice replied, "Three seconds, Asterios. That is how long it would take for the beast to break your neck, and I would not be able to save you." After passing Asterios, the man walked toward the carcass of the wolf. Despite his son's near-death experience, he remained stoic with a cool expression.

"Take everything you collected to the horses," the man said, pointing to a nearby trail. "Follow that way; the horses are not far away."

"Yes, father...," Asterios replied as he grabbed his bag and headed down a dark path just ahead. His voice carried complicated feelings and a certain shock, but his father didn't seem to care much about it, as if nothing had happened. He used a knife to skin the wolf and remove any parts he thought were worth eating.

When he had finally finished extracting a good piece of meat from the wolf and reached the small camp where the horses were, Asterios had already lit the fire and was feeding it with twigs and leaves. However, he couldn't help but scowl when he noticed five other individuals sitting on tree trunks right next to his camp.

Upon noticing his presence, a short, chubby man stood up quickly and walked towards Argus, exclaiming in a nervous, high-pitched voice, "Uh... Forgive my intrusion, Lord Argus, but I bring an urgent message from Vasbrusk. It's a very important matter that requires your immediate presence." He handed him a letter in a sealed envelope and took a few steps back, waiting nervously for Argus' response.

Argus let go of the piece of meat he was carrying and tore open the envelope, not caring about the blood on his hand. As he read, his frown slowly disappeared, transforming into a slight, uncharacteristic smile from his normally cold and impassive expression.

After finishing reading, he watched the man quietly for a few seconds before demanding, "State your name." His deep, authoritative voice sent shivers down the man's spine, who was already nervous. "Julius, my Lord," he replied, struggling to remain calm. The smile on Argus' face brought no relief.

"Julius is a good name. You can leave with your men. Let them know I'll be in Vasbrusk by noon," Argus said, picking up the wolf meat from the ground and walking towards the fire, where Asterios watched everything silently.

"My Lord, th-" The man tried to question, but before he could even finish his sentence, he was violently interrupted by Argus. "I'll be there at noon. Get your men and get the hell out of here before I make you a head shorter," the smile on his face had vanished, replaced by a cold, cruel scowl.

Julius didn't have the courage to say anything else and ran towards his horse with his companions in tow. None of them dared to speak until they were far enough away to make sure that Lord Argus would not hear them. Then one of them let out a relieved sigh, "Ah... at least we are alive."

Asterios watched the whole conversation from afar with disinterest. However, his eyes followed the letter in his father's left hand with curiosity as he observed everything from a distance. When Argus chased away those "intruders" and sat down in front of him, Asterios finally asked, "What was it about, father?"

After ignoring Asterios as he salted and skewered the meat on sticks for roasting, Argus finally replied, "I hired a teacher from the capital to teach you a few things, an old friend of mine." His voice was cold.

Upon hearing this, the cold expression on Asterios' face finally melted, and he continued to ask his father questions tirelessly. His face showed the childlike excitement that a boy of his age should have: "Who is he? What is he going to teach me? Is he one of your companions from the War of Arthemis?"

Looking at his son strangely, Argus smiled and remembered briefly that he was dealing with a child. He began to answer Asterios' questions in an authoritative but still warm and gentle tone, as expected of a father chatting casually with his son. "His name is Erik. We were centurions in the same legion and defended the emperor's name together. After the final battle at Karlva, a city far to the west, we parted ways. I thought he was dead..." Argus paused melancholically before continuing, "But fate is strange. I found out that he was alive and teaching classes to noble children in the royal capital. He will teach you about many things: history, politics, strategy, and a bit about practical combat."

"Ah... I understand," Asterios replied, still unable to hide his clear anxiety to meet the man named Erik.

After a few minutes, the meat was finally ready. Argus had taken only about two pounds of meat, enough for them to eat tonight and have breakfast the next day. The rest of the nearly 80-kilo animal was left to be devoured by scavengers.

Grabbing one of the skewers with meat on it, Asterios puffed for a few seconds before taking a small bite. The flavor was strong and stringy, somewhat like chicken meat. His biting rate increased as the meat cooled. When he finally finished his piece, he let out a soft sigh.

After putting out the fire and using a piece of cloth to wipe his hands, he finally got up and walked toward the tent. His father, who had eaten much faster than he had, seemed to have already fallen asleep, lying down on the opposite side of the tent. Asterios watched the roof, his gaze carrying feelings of eagerness, fear, discomfort, and a timid excitement. Deciding to finally stop thinking, he closed his eyes and fell asleep, the anxiety for tomorrow slowly fading away as sleep overcame him and everything around him faded away.