S0ZEN
patreon
FDS ch2
🕑 Added 2025-08-23 19:43:25 +0000 UTCSometimes it took months to get to know people, other times it took less time.
There was no more evidence, and the search had to be stalled.
Arlak was not on the village watch the next day—he was to be training at the barracks with two other squires.
He was asleep when he heard the croaking sound.
It sounded like a frog.
He would investigate later—right now, he needed rest. He closed his eyes again.
Just a few more minutes.
It would soon be gone, hopping away to do its business, and he would go back to sleeping well.
A few more minutes.
There was a creak in the wood this time.
He hoped it was Gereon, his bunkmate—but what was he thinking, sneaking around?
Let me pretend to be asleep, and he’ll be gone before I can think of it again.
There was another creak. Too slow. Too steady. Too deliberate.
Like the times when his fellow orphans snuck around in the night when the dorm mother blew out the candles.
Then the frog again. A croak.
Arlak was unsure now.
Was there some frog-person moving about in their bunk?
He opened his eyes, then turned.
He saw a knife, but he wasn't fast enough.
A hand grabbed his mouth, and his eyes went wide.
---
After yesterday's patrol, Nilri had found it quite boring. In fact, she had found her entire stay here somewhat mundane. But on her patrol yesterday, she had seen a creek near the forest—where she stood now.
It wasn’t hard for her to leave the barracks in the early hours. The other girls were not used to the morning hours—they had stayed up all night.
She snuck through the woods, making barely a sound. The early morning birds chirped and stole the wheat grass from the farmers.
They were probably taking it to tend their nests before winter came.
She stepped out of the tree line, and the sun felt warm. The air felt fresh. She looked down, and it squirmed in her hands.
She was from the mountains, and the morning always left her feeling fuzzy inside—like when she would wake as a child and rush outside to see the sunrise over the peaks.
She snuck through the wheat toward the barracks.
She froze.
She watched as Abitha, Ovek, Mirard, and Selina left the barracks. She scoffed.
There is no way they are going out on a patrol like that. They are half asleep.
She waited. They passed. It squirmed in her hand.
She did the math in her head.
Arlak and Gereon—the nudist—are still in the barracks, she thought, a smile creeping across her lips.
She moved. She looked around the place and saw nothing. The place was empty.
The sandy barracks sparkled with dew.
She looked through the window and saw the two boys still sleeping. It squirmed, then croaked. She lowered her head and glared down at the thing.
After confirming they were there, she moved to the door. She conjured a bronze and iron knife. She slipped the lock open like her father had taught her.
She crept inside. She was ready for anything.
One of them stirred in their beds. She froze.
Wood creaked beneath her feet.
Too much noise—her father would not have approved.
The creature squirmed again.
Arlak—if she remembered the boy’s name right—turned and looked at her.
His eyes went wide.
She placed her hand over his mouth and dismissed the blade.
She put a finger to her lips. He looked at her, then at the frog in her hand.
It was a big frog.
She pointed at it, then at Gereon, who was sleeping through the whole thing.
She mimicked putting it in the other boy’s bed.
Of course. Another prank. Luckily, I woke up.
He nodded, got out of his bed, and proceeded to follow her.
It was not long before the pair heard a girly scream from the barracks, and Gereon stumbled out.
Gereon found the two seated and meditating. They were refining their soul metal—or at least, it looked that way.
"There was something in my bed," Gereon said, scratching at his chest and face and gagging.
He swept at his lips.
"Did it kiss you?" Nilri asked, peering up at him through one narrow, open eye.
"Does this mean he's going to turn into a prince or something?" Arlak asked, amused.
"No, that was a toad."
"It could have been poisonous! I could have died!"
Arlak stole a glance at Nilri and could see her on the edge—almost bursting into laughter.
Don’t give up. You're going to give yourself away, Arlak thought.
And a minute later, Nilri gave up. She laughed.
She held her stomach, fell over, and laughed.
Gereon turned to her.
"What? What are you laughing at?"
Arlak chuckled and shook his head.
"You too?" he pointed at Arlak.
She laughed louder.
"You slept with a toad!"
"No, I didn’t!" he said, covering himself.
"Did you make love?" Arlak asked.
"No, we didn’t!" he huffed.
She laughed even louder and pointed at him.
"You said 'we'!"
"You know I will get all of you back for this! You put a toad in my bed!" He pointed at the laughing, chuckling figures.
Arlak raised his hands to deny the accusation but froze.
Understanding dawned on him.
"Did you also set off the Captain’s bell?" He looked down at her.
She raised one hand, giggling.
"That was not me."
Gereon looked peeved, but sensing the joking nature, he sat down in the sand with them.
He intended to cultivate. He had also just stepped into the realm of steel this year before he was sent out to this barracks.
"My intent is war. What are yours?"
"War? That is quite a general intent."
"It is—but I have a higher chance of earning more soul schematics, and I could even reach gold."
War was not a bad focus for a warrior. But it would take him a long time. He had to look for war—and not die.
"Now tell me yours."
"Uhm..." she looked down and to the side, "Attacking."
That is obviously a lie, Arlak thought.
"What of yours?" She turned to Arlak and away from Gereon.
"My intent is flight."
Both of them looked at him.
"That’s very specific."
"You’re taking a gamble. Flight is a rare intent. What even made you think of doing that?"
"My mother."
The memory of flying.
I want to touch the sky.
I deserve it.
I want my legacy.
He spoke again into the silence.
"That’s the only way I can honor her."
He looked out into the sand, and his jaw clenched.
"Uhm... are you alright?" she asked, looking at Arlak.
"Is there something wrong?"
"No. Nothing wrong. It’s just that... you’re not the only ones to tell me that."
"Oh. Well," Gereon shrugged and sat cross-legged, trying to advance to the second step of steel.
---
When Captain Harstad found them, they were training—but not the way he wanted.
The three were seated with their eyes closed, each facing an orb. The inch-wide spheres spun with iron and steel.
The visualisation helped. Spinning the core also helped.
The rotations built internal pressure, and each mental and physical spin pulled on the spiritual layers.
It refined the soul metal density and compressed the soul essence.
And so the cores spun, but there were other ways to do this.
He walked over and looked at each of them.
"Good, good. Now stand."
Arlak and the two who had been cultivating opened their eyes.
His soul metal core flew onto his body and formed a chestplate.
By the time he looked to the side, the others were already on their feet, standing straight.
"Your blades. We are going to have a spar."
"We are sparring? Uhm… just like that?"
The three looked at each other. Gereon was the most nervous as he glanced from the old man to the others.
"Our blades?" Arlak asked. He looked uncertain as well.
He had no doubt that the old man was the better swordsman. He would have preferred they do something else.
Why? they seemed to ask.
Harstad had promised to train them, but they all thought their time here was temporary.
The captain just looked at the squires assigned to him.
The only one who didn’t seem surprised was Arlak.
The boy had seen him weaving gold. He was a master, and only masters were known or respected as teachers.
"Training you to reach silver is the best I can do, and you will be grateful for it."
As the others questioned the captain’s legitimacy and ability to train them, Arlak was of a different opinion.
His soul metal shifted from his chest and moved to his hand. It turned and shifted into a long, straight blade—
The morph-blade sword: a common skill schematic used by the imperial guards.
Every guard had the skill to form the blade.
The others didn’t know, but followed Arlak.
Well, at least we’ll get a spar out of this, Gereon thought.
Captain Harstad examined their blades.
"How long can you hold the forms?"
"An hour."
"One hour."
"An hour," they chorused.
"Hmm." He looked at them. He studied their morphed swords.
He nodded, and a similar blade formed in his hand. The white-silver in his steel chestplate and leg pieces shifted into the steel blade.
He lowered the blade in a guard, pointing it to the ground.
"You will all attack at once. And as you do—refine your cores."
They had to visualise their cores and spin them as they morphed their blades.
Arlak’s jaw clenched.
I always forget how hard this is.
He focused on the blade.
"Good," the old man said, and before they knew it, he stepped forward.
They hesitated, yet he didn't.
Harstad kicked Nilri.
The girl went flying back, out of the fight for now.
Harstad swung his blade down at Arlak—and was blocked.
He twisted his sword arm around and blocked Gereon’s blade.
He kicked forward again, putting Arlak on the defensive, causing the boy to spin, dodging the blow. His arm came around, blocking Gereon’s morphed blade again.
He jumped to the side and cut through the air in a horizontal slash.
Arlak and Gereon both blocked—and winced at the soul pain.
Aww… that’s why you don’t cultivate while fighting.
Nilri ducked under the blade and went to stab the old knight in the gut.
The old knight raised an eyebrow—surprised.
He moved from a horizontal slash to a diagonal block and pushed the small girl back.
They are breathing heavily. That’s good. Refining in combat is one way to improve your soul and metal, Harstad noted.
This is getting harder, Arlak thought. I can’t keep refining and fighting at the same time.
Didn’t the masters tell us never to refine while fighting? I felt the soul pain. Gereon’s fingers trembled.
How is the old man fighting us? There are three of us, and we still haven’t landed a blow, Nilri thought.
The three looked at each other and nodded.
"Let’s land a blow," Arlak proposed.
The old knight raised an eyebrow, amused.
They came.
He blocked the first blade, then the second. He kicked Arlak to the ground—or at least he tried, but the boy only stumbled back.
Tsk.
He dodged Nilri’s blade and blocked Gereon’s.
However, he did not let Gereon go that easily. He grabbed his sword arm and pulled him into a reverse hold.
He placed the squire between himself and his other squires.
Arlak and Nilri went in to swing—but hesitated. Gereon was in the way.
The old knight pulled Gereon and slammed an elbow into the boy’s face.
Gereon was out.
Nilri swung her blade.
The old knight blocked and, in the same motion, attacked Arlak.
Arlak stepped back, but the old knight swung harder, his blade changing targets—aiming for Nilri.
He blocked Arlak and attacked Nilri.
Arlak could feel that he was on the edge of the second breakthrough of steel.
Just a little more. I can see it.
Nilri rushed in.
The old knight slapped her sword to the side and knocked her out with the pommel of his sword.
The old knight’s sword was much larger and heavier.
The old knight stepped aside and placed a hand on Arlak’s chest.
"Protect yourself," he said, and his eyes went wide the next moment.
Arlak frowned, then his eyes went wide. He wanted to step back—but he wasn’t fast enough. He needed to jump back—to get away from the gold.
Arlak used all he had and focused on forming his breastplate to protect himself.
He flew back as soon as the chestplate finished forming.
Harstad looked around at the downed, panting figures.
The boy's chest plate forms too fast. He looked to the other two.
They were not dead, but he knew they would wake up sore.
At least these three have talent. What of the others…
He groaned.
I have to test them as well.
And he would have been surprised by the results, but the fact was that he was a gold and a master.
---
Hours later, Arlak was shaken awake.
Mirard stood over him.
"Who did this?" he asked, looking at all three of them. "Was there an attack?"
"We were sparring."
"Then how did all of you end up unconscious?" Selina asked, helping a groaning Nilri off her back.
"It was the captain," Arlak said, grabbing Mirard’s hand and pulling himself to his feet.
"Three on one, and we still had no chance," Nilri said.
She clenched and unclenched her fist. The second step of steel. She had reached it. She focused, and in her mind, she saw it—a core of iron with two bands of steel.
"Hey, guys, look at this." Gereon lifted his arm, and the metal morphed from the rings on his fingers into a shield.
"Is that a new schematic?"
The others gathered around him. Gereon had a new schematic.
"I advanced as well. I reached the second step of steel."
They turned to her. "You too?"
"Yes," she said, looking down at her hands. "I think... I think he’s not a simple knight."
"That, or you three aren’t that good in a fight," Selina pointed out.
"I’d like to see him fight a Gold and mouth off," Mirard said.
"Arlak," Gereon turned to him, "did you advance?"
He knew he hadn’t. But he checked again.
"No, nothing new. I'm still at the first step of steel."
He shook his head.
"But you got a new schematic?" Gereon tried.
Arlak shook his head to that as well.
"Oh," Nilri said.
"Uhh, well, I’m sure you’re close to a breakthrough."
"Sure," he shrugged, though the others looked at him uncertainly.
Arlak was uncertain as well. Why hadn’t he advanced? Why was he being punished? He knew why—but he couldn’t tell them.
The old knight captain had warned him about his intent.
He clenched his jaw.
"Let’s go to the inn. A hot meal will be a good celebration for advancing," Mirard said, placing his hands on Gereon and Nilri’s shoulders.
---
When they reached the inn, most of the patrons were gone. Only a few late-night drinkers lingered in the building.
Ferona watched the group walk in. She folded her arms. There were seven of them. She had already seen two.
"What can I get for you?"
"A hot meal and some mutton," Nilri said.
"That will be a blue coin—for each of you."
"Coin? We don’t pay. We are the protectors of this village," Mirard said.
They all stopped and looked at him. Ferona stopped and looked at the boy soldier. She crossed her arms.
"You can either pay, or you can find somewhere else to eat."
"When a monster comes, who do you think will fight it off?" he said loudly, looking at the few patrons in the inn.
Elder Magdalena was right. I should be careful with these new squires, Ferona thought, rolling her eyes.
The patrons, as few as they were, slunk back, avoiding his gaze.
Here we go. I knew I wouldn’t like this guy, Arlak thought.
"Listen here. You can pay or leave," she said, pointing at the door.
"I’ll pay." Arlak tossed a blue coin on the counter.
"What are you doing?" Mirard grabbed his tunic and turned him.
"The captain pays for his meals. He’s a knight, and I don’t want her telling him about this."
He looked at Mirard and wondered. Was he gonna keep pushing?
Very unlikely.
Yeah, think about that, Arlak thought, looking at the other boy, then shrugging him off.
Nilri and Gereon did the same. It seemed the captain’s beating had done more than help them advance.
"Let’s just pay. Who knows what she might tell the knight captain when he comes for a meal," Selina said, rolling her eyes.
"Good," Ferona nodded and scooped the coins off the counter.
In the back, Ferona stirred the soup.
Who does he think he is, refusing to pay? Perhaps I should…
She looked around and saw red paper vegetables.
No… not yet. If he tries it again, then yes, she nodded.
She had no respect for them.
Ferona liked the boy she had met the first time—at least.
What was his name again? She couldn't remember.
The smell hit her. Something was burning.
Dumb, dumb, dumb. Pay attention, Ferona.
She cut the mutton into pieces and pushed them into the tomato soup.
Back out of the kitchen…
"You guys never told us how you lost," Selina asked, leaning over the table.
"I didn’t know he was that strong," Nilri said, raising her head as she sniffed the air.
"I think he’s from one of those knight orders."
"A member of the knight order!? Hmm. Then what’s he doing in some nowhere barracks on the border of Viremont?"
"Who knows?" Gereon shrugged.
Yes, why was a master in a place like this? He is a Gold, Arlak thought, twisting the ring of steel on his finger.
"Most old knights don’t need to be in some barracks," he whispered. "They work for nobles, or as guards in the major cities."
"Yeah, I still think he’s no ordinary knight," Gereon said, catching Arlak’s words.
"Yeah, we didn’t even land a single blow," Nilri added, sprawling back against the counter in weary defeat.
"Hey, why did you get a schematic and she advanced?" Abitha pointed at Gereon, then Nilri.
"Probably because he got knocked out first," Arlak quipped.
They laughed.
"He probably used some old man’s tricks," Mirard said, shifting his iron breastplate into a steel dagger. "I could probably beat him."
"You wouldn’t."
"Why not?" he turned to him.
"He’s Gold rank."
"A Gold rank?"
"I’ve seen it."
"No, you probably saw something else."
"He used magic," Arlak said, lowering his shirt collar to reveal a bruise.
That shut Mirard up.
The food came, and they kept talking.
"What’s a master doing out here?" Selina asked.
"Don’t know."
In the silence, they looked at each other. It seemed the old knight was keeping even more secrets.
---
When they were almost done eating and most of the patrons had left, they heard a scream.
A woman. A girl.
It was the type of scream no guardsman or guardswoman wanted to hear.
They all rose, and before they knew it, they had woven iron armour, ready for a fight.
The rings on Arlak’s fingers flowed and morphed into a chestplate over his torso.
"Split up."
"Stay together."
Both Arlak and Mirard spoke at the same time, then looked at each other.
Another scream.
"That way!" Nilri pointed, and they ran.
---
The girl had gone out to check on the squealing piglets. She had grabbed the leftover food from that night’s meal.
She walked over to the sty, but the piglets were all in one corner, quaking in fear. She shrugged and threw the food into the enclosure.
"Come on, this is a special meal. Eat up."
The piglets didn’t move.
She leaned over and looked around the sty.
Then she heard a growl. Not the human kind.
She turned—and then saw it. She screamed.
The creature swung onto the roof and looked down at her.
The werewolf looked at her, and she froze.
It landed—and she screamed again.
Its ears twitched once. Then twice. It looked to the side.
Someone was coming.
It growled at the girl, then looked between her and the direction of the oncoming footsteps.
It looked back at her, then took a step back.
---
If one pound of steel can be refined to about ten pounds of iron, ten pounds of iron can be refined to about a hundred pounds of bronze.
The numbers were never exact.
I have three bands of iron and one of steel.
Arlak ran, using an alloy of all the metals he had access to.
Arlak, Mirard, and the others turned and paused.
The creature—whatever it was—looked at them, glowing eyes assessing.
It smelled of magic on them.
It jumped onto the roof, then made for the forest.
"Get her inside," Arlak said, holding his iron forms—the Morph Sword—and wearing his Aero Frame chest plate.
"No. Follow it. We can't let it get away," Mirard said, brushing past him.
Selina turned. "I’ll get her inside. You guys follow it."
Arlak and Mirard looked at each other, then back at her.
They followed it. They ran all the way to the forest.
"Stop!" Arlak yelled, and the group halted.
"Why?"
"We can’t go into the forest—not now."
"Why not?" Mirard turned on him.
"Because it’s dangerous."
Those creatures are pack hunters. Did you even read the scrolls? He looked at him. Arlak looked into the deep darkness of the forest.
Fighting the werewolves in the night and in the forest was a fool's gambit.
"No. We go. If we let it escape, it will come back."
