18 The Man Who Came to Die

"What?!"

"But, Master you—" Dustan started, only to be cut off.

"Master, I dare not stay in the same room as you." Hund prostrated himself, bowing his low.

"Alva, your protests are misplaced." Dustan turned to the other teen. Alva flinched at the tone of Dustan's voice.

I see the passive Dustan does get angry. But why he is reacting like this to having Hund sleep in my room, I do not quite understand.

It's not like he knows I'm a woman. Why is he so against Hund rooming with me?

"Alva, you've gone too far." Dustan reprimanded.

"But, our room! It is shabby enough as it stands! Should we take another bunker, how are we supposed to—to you know..." Alva seemed flustered as he gestured to Dustan.

Dustan got the message that Alva was trying to send. Hah. These brats are more grown up than I give them credit for. What else does those flame red cheeks indicate? I guess boys will be boys.

"Pshh." I attempted to click my tongue. However, the paretic effect of the alcohol made me stutter.

"I get it. You dooo not—want us old ones to room with you." I slurred, swinging my arm around Hund's neck.

Am I drunk? Yes, I was. Incredibly so if I am spouting such nonsense.

"It is not so, Master." Dustan settled down. "We—"

"Just, quiet down." I cut him off. "You lot are giving me a headache."

Perhaps the wine and the fact that I hadn't been able to get a wink of sleep last night contributed to my light-headedness. As soon as I was full, I headed to my room with Hund on my tail.

With half a sane mind, I got one of the spare beddings from a storage box and handed it to Hund. I yawned.

"Lay this on the floor and help yourself."

Hund looked uncomfortable, standing in the middle of my room as I dove into the mattress of my bed. I could hear him shuffling about for a bit, before he settled down.

And, that's all I could remember before my consciousness was plunged to darkness.

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"Mom, am I a bad person?"

"No, dear."

"Then why does no one want to play with me?"

Mom's face looked troubled. She didn't say anything, simply hugging me until the air in my lungs escaped.

And then I heard screams. Blood-curling shrieks—the type you would hear when one faces monstrosity beyond imagination.

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I awoke in cold sweat, panting.

This has to be the worst one thus far. I could still feel the terror of something—something buried in the depths and folds of my brain. I checked the time, groaning in displeasure as I did so. It was only 2 AM.

For the love of souls, it is too early. I must have fallen asleep earlier than usual. Now, I won't be able to go back to sleep, should I suffer in the abyss of another nightmare.

While I was contemplating on what to do, I was startled to see movement at the corner of my eyes. I remembered then that I was not longer the only one in my room.

Now sober, I realized that I had just put myself in jeopardy by allowing another to room with me. I covered my face with my palms, simply wallowing in regret of my drunken deeds.

Remembering last night brought a cringed to my shoulders. What irony. How laughable it is to think that I have not a clue on the contents of my dreams, and yet have the mind to remember my drunken acts.

While I suffered in silence over my act, I felt someone's gaze on me. The hair on the back of my stood. I looked up from my palms to see a silhouette.

Hund was watching me.

"You are awake." I cleared my throat, masking the loud thumping of my heart in surprise.

"I could not find sleep... Master."

There was a pause before he said 'Master'.

"... You can call me informally, just for now." I plopped back on my bed.

He was silent after that.

"... Pray tell, why could you not slumber?" I started.

"I guess I'm not used to the place." Hund's tone sounded more relaxed.

"Well, that is certainly quite a feat. How long have you been in the Tower?"

"About a week."

Ah. Now I see why he was surprised that I named him a senior disciple.

"Do tell."

Hund went quiet after that. But, I could almost hear him thinking, hesitating to ask something.

"... What about you? How long have you been in here?" He asked quietly.

I couldn't help but scoff. "As if the whole city does not know every bit of my history."

He was quiet.

"Wait, seriously? You do not know?" I sat up to look at his silhouette.

"No, I... I was from the border."

"... I've been here for ten years. Everyone knows I was practically raised in the Tower, for the sole purpose of reaching the ultimate honor of being number one." I answered him.

"Honor..." He trailed off.

"What about you? Any battle scars you would like to share?" I sat up in interest, waiting for him to answer.

"I..." He trailed off, hesitating.

"Do not fret. Whatever we say in this room, stays here." I assured him.

"... I was a soldier at the border." I knew it.

"The job requirements were rough, but the pay was good. Kept my brother and I alive. But, I made a mistake while I was on duty. And, the consequences were dire. So, I came to the Tower to regain honor." He let out a deep sigh.

"To die honorably." He breathed.

"I see." I voiced. Now that I think about it, he did seem impassive in that match against Dustan. As I look back, he must have been resolved to die—then and there.

I got up from my bed and went over to him.

"Follow me." I commanded. Walking out of my room, I lit the lights and made my way to the training grounds. Thankfully, Hund followed me obediently.

The lighting was dark enough that I couldn't get a clear view of his face. Nonetheless, I could still make out the redness in his eyes.

"Take up a defensive stance." I ordered.

Hund spread his feet shoulder width.

I clicked my tongue. Charging towards him, I gave him a pretty obvious view of my fist coming towards his torso. I hit him square on his solar plexus. The guy did not even flinch. Instead, he grabbed my arm and tried to throw me overhead.

Unfortunately, I used his own force to haul him down to the ground. As his back collided with the floor, I had a perfect view of his surprised face. He did not retaliate any further as I stepped on his chest to keep him down.

I knew it. This guy—he's not doing anything to defend himself.

I took my foot off his chest.

"Your technique is sloppy. Do you intend to swing your opponent like a rug all the time? In the first place, do you not know any defensive position?" I lectured him.

"Master, I am but a commoner. I had no education on how to properly fight. As a soldier by the border, our only job was to throw boulders on mountain climbers that sought to breach the gates. I am nothing but a—"

"Silence!" I cut him off. "Save your excuses for the crooks. This is why nobles look down on people like you—people like us, who came from nothing."

I pointed my finger on his chest. "You built up your body beautifully. Do not waste it."

His eyes widened a little. Then his face scrunched up, like he was about to cry.

"Stop mopping! Get your body moving. If you are a man who came here to die, I am here to give you new purpose."

"Serve me." I commanded him, channeling all my authoritative nature into my words.

Hund seemed surprised.

"Yes, Master." Nevertheless, his answer left nothing to be desired.

I shook my arms to get my blood pumping.

"Now, shall we spar once more? Before the rooster crows, I'll drill all the defensive positions I know through those thick muscles of yours."