Infighting is apparent in all the civilised races, whether they be the cunning Ratkin, fractured Stingtails, or peculiar Shaerd. It is less clear-cut in the noble Drakkar, even less so in the Order of Tyr, and the least within the Mycelia. On the opposite end is humanity.
Suko Ryo – Interspecial Expert – Humanity and the Other Races
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“You’ll have to try harder, Silas, else I’ll have to ask Johnny here to take your place,” Grace said, laughing wryly.
Her fawners and flatterers cackled at the taunt, while Silas rose and forced himself to calm. He now knew rushing here had been a big mistake, but it was too late for regrets. He had to survive through whatever means.
“Put some energy into it, eh?” she said leaning in provocatively but pulling away before he could grab her. “You need to lose some of that fat. Take a page out of Riverside’s book – it’s just lost its most tumorous fat cell, and I’m about to cut away another. Perhaps I’ll send you some company as well – I wouldn’t want you to get lonely,” she said, regarding the crowd with a glance.
A chill passed through the non-fighters, and several edged away as if they feared becoming her next victims. Even her lackeys quietened, looking between themselves with expressions of surprise and disbelief. Although the majority of them didn’t share her hardline views, they were too frightened to stand up to her now.
Silas trained his hollow eyes on her shining body until it seemed to burn through his retina. He figured her glow ability buffed her, making her faster and stronger than him. His over-sensitivity to light simply made it all the more devastating, leaving him helpless in front of her. If only he could gain a free strike, then…
He closed his eyes and saw her figure even in the darkness. Drawing a long breath, his mind stilled while his heart thundered. He knew what he had to do, and he knew it was going to hurt. His focus brought with it the clarity to see what his eyes couldn’t.
Grace’s mouth finally stopped running, and he tensed. Strutting towards him, she eyed him up haughtily, and he lowered and pulled back his spear. His vision blurred as he focused on the sounds of her boots squelching through the slick mud. She stepped into range and his spear shot forward, his entire body behind the blow, crashing and breaking through her shield, splinters exploding outward.
The Valkyrie dropped it with no hesitation, and her glow heightened once again as she tried to sneak past his guard. He flung himself back while drawing a low arc, forcing her away. Skirting the blade, she deflected the spear up and dashed in when suddenly the weapon chopped back down, slitting her knee.
There was a collective intake of breath in the crowd as she drew back, hissing. One of her lackeys, flustered from the risk of turning tides, lunged at Silas from his flank. She barked at him, but it was too late as the Duellist spun and downed him in one clean swing.
“This is my f****** fight,” she roared at the crowd. Her injury seemed to have riled her spirits up into a spluttering inferno instead of dampening it. The blazing fire spread to her eyes, and her glowing face displayed primal hunger. “My fight,” she repeated, the words coming out low and tenderly as if she was savouring them.
Silas didn’t comment as he kept his face a stony mask devoid of emotion. He wasn’t thinking anymore, simply acting on his desire to win. Even if it cost him a limb or two, he had to survive for his friends, his family, and for himself. Noticing movement from her, he kept still until she slipped into his range. He let her deflect his strikes while prompting her to overreach, finally urging her into decisive action as he seemingly lunged too low and too deep.
She pounced and her blade sliced through his armour, puncturing through a lung. She followed up immediately and slashed towards his neck, finally going for the fatal strike. In her bloodlust, she didn’t see his spear swinging from under as he straightened it to the sky, its point cutting in between her breasts, splitting her neck, and shattering her chin. Wobbling back, steps staggered, her eyes were blank and mouth agape as he followed and gored through her.
She choked on her blood, dribbling it over her overcoat, and seemed to smile as she convulsed and finally stopped. Still. Like the crowd. Still. Unlike Silas. He slid her off his spear and dropped her to the dirt.
Leaning on his spear for support, he yelled out, surprising himself at how hoarse and feeble his voice sounded. “Bring Iris here right now!” There was movement behind him to take advantage of his state, and another lifeless body swiftly crashed into the unfeeling ground.
Even as he shook and swayed, the crowd saw his fangs underneath all the gore. A few immediately headed for Grace’s house to bring Iris, no doubt to curry favour with him, but he was grateful nonetheless. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks a minute later when he saw the little healer running over. It wasn’t so much for her as it was for himself – he had survived, in spite of the plotters and murderers.
The events that followed transpired as quick as a flash or painfully slowly depending on who you asked. As Silas had killed Grace, he became the mayor. The first thing he did was piece together the background to the planned coup from various people who rushed to show their use to him, hoping to placate his anger.
He learnt that Grace had gone to see Lazzaro the evening before, trying to convince him away from spending everything on houses and water filters. They had more pressing issues to address, she had argued, and apparently he had turned a deaf ear to all her requests. So, in turn, she had executed a plan that had apparently been in the pipelines, taking drastic measures to ensure the village’s survival in the future.
Fortunately, there was nothing left for Silas to do now as the coup’s major participants were all either dead or had swiftly fled following his upset victory. Even Ruby, who he had tied up, had disappeared into the night. Surprisingly, he also learnt Grace had left Sabine out of the plot for being overly opportunistic or something along those lines.
Of course, the men and women who retold the story made Grace sound like a cartoonish villain intent on power and themselves as unfortunate innocents pushed into the plot, but he read between the lines.
She had gained a substantial following so quickly not only because of her appearance and power but also because her ideas had spoken intimately to people. After all, her followers had been survivors of the thickest of battles, the ones who had been the most cut and bruised by Idroa, and the ones who had kept Riverside a haven for strangers, only to get little in return.
Silas also admitted he had a special sort of empathy for Grace after having watched her droop lifelessly across his spear, spilling wine-like blood onto his hands, staining his palms. It had tethered a greater guilt to his soul than his other killings, which had either been him protecting himself, or in Angela’s case, relieving pain. Grace might have come after him, but he had also had several opportunities to turn away after that and even a prime opportunity to prevent the killings in the first place if he had done a better job of convincing Lazzaro to hear out the fighters.
Silas had been a killer for a while now, no doubt, but it had always been a slayer of beasts, protector of man, something to take pride in. Now he was also a true murderer of man, and he hadn’t felt like himself since acknowledging the fact. For the time being, however, he had temporarily glossed over the matter by engrossing himself in work, organising the city around his rule.
He granted a public burial to Lazzaro in the centre of Riverside. He personally washed and dressed the body with Josh. He didn’t know how to feel on seeing the mage had been taken in his sleep with a knife to the neck. On the one hand, it was quick and hopefully painless; on the other, it was a preventable death of someone who had helped him out numerous times. The burial was attended by almost everyone in the village, and it was there he saw Iris cry for the first time.
Silas also set burials for the Grace and the lackeys he had killed, although he told some of her previous followers to do it in his stead. The guilt, the shame, the anger.
Next, he realised neither of the mayors before him had actually spent from Riverside’s account despite it being the root of the conflict. As such, he bought what he thought was best: the monument which provided passive experience to those under level 5. It was a small stone-grey sculpture of a budding flower. He placed it in the town hall and wondered what would happen if someone defaced it – nothing good, he supposed. He resolved to buy the monument lowering the level for non-combat classes at a later date. It was also after watching the buildings for a while he realised their prices went up with Riverside’s citizen count.
Either way, he used the remaining money in the village’s account and his own savings to buy additional houses and a simplified water system. The buildings were squalid and fewer than Lazzaro had intended, but it was all Silas could do for the time being. As purchasing the buildings only materialised their resources along with easy-to-follow manuals, he ordered tens of non-fighters to put them together.
Lastly, he created a police force, the Riverside Constabulary, to maintain order under his authority, placing ten people on payroll (five fighters, five non-fighters to be trained) with Bandana Dom leading the force.
Although he had initially viewed mayorship as a burden, he quickly got used to it and soon enough relished in how fast he could execute his plans when he steered the ship. Currently, his number one priority was to build defences around the village as ratkin scouts had been spotted in the area.
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Grace Volta, the Valkyrie, was originally a fitness model from Italy. Her teammates from the extreme tutorial described her as a natural leader and someone who quickly took to combat. Fierce and beautiful, many believed her class was tailored personally for her.
After her arrival on Idroa, she joined Riverside in its early days and rapidly built up a following. Then, after an argument over public spending, she started a coup against Lazzaro Toscani, the Fire Mage and the founder of Riverside. Although she succeeded, her actions attracted the attention of Silas Wycliffe, the Duellist, and led to them fighting it out. She died to him, and her death is rumoured to have had a profound effect on Silas by those who know him.
Stefan Sommer – the Chronicler – Heroes and Villains of the First Age
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I will no longer be updating this novel on CreativeNovels. To anyone who wishes to keep reading it, find it on Royal road (I can’t hyperlink it, but you can find it there by searching) or on ScribbleHub. Sorry about this move, but I feel it’s the right one going forwards. As always, thank you for reading and all the best! 🙂
