Stone Will

by Kirill Klevanski

“We couldn’t normally,” Nero cleaned the blood off his face. It wasn’t his blood. “But before it died, it did something to its defenses. Now even my knife will cut through.”

  Hadjar sighed. He wasn’t greedy, but he respected the creature’s last wish. The creature who could’ve killed him easily. Besides, it had done it not for him, but for its cub.

  Although, to be honest, Hadjar would be glad to have blades made from its claws and armor made from its skin. These things would be artifacts, very high-level ones at that. Heaven Soldiers would’ve probably torn out each other’s throats to get even one such artifact.

  “Just wait a bit.”

  “Don’t take too long. I really need help!”

  Hadjar wandered through the ravine until he came across the grass he had been looking for. It was normally an ordinary weed, but if a little energy was added to its juice, it would become a decent enough sleep medicine. Thieves usually drugged watchdogs with it.

  He’d learned a lot while wandering the world with the circus.

  Making sure that the kitten wouldn’t be waking up for the next few hours, Hadjar put her against his bosom. She curled up tightly and Hadjar’s chest immediately became warmer. Azrea was a good source of warmth...

  “God forgive me,” Hadjar sighed.

  This work made him sick, deep in his heart.

  Together, they managed to finish it by late in the evening. It wasn’t easy to carve through the carcass of the creature at the Ancient Stage. While they worked, Nero explained to Hadjar that after the Alpha stage there was the King of Beasts stage. A beast at this stage was equal in strength to a Spirit Knight. But this wasn’t the end or the pinnacle in beastly cultivation. After the King of Beasts stage came the Ancient Stage.

  And an Ancient beast was equal to the Lord stage of humans. Nero said that he’d never believed in the existence of such creatures or Lord-level humans. He’d considered it an absurdity from children’s tales and legends.

  But the things he’d seen today had changed his view of the world significantly. Now Nero felt like a little frog which had considered it well to be the whole universe. Then, suddenly, it had been thrown into an open ocean and it realized how naive it had been before.

  Traves had been much stronger than the tigress. At what stage had the dragon been, then? How far from Hadjar was the peak of the cultivation of martial arts?

  By the time the shadows, playing with the moonlight, woke up within the forest, they had finally finished. Covered in blood, reeking to high heaven, they sat on the edge of the ravine and looked down. They watched as a flame flared up.

  They weren’t afraid of starting a forest fire—they had dug a trench around the ravine and cut off the nearby branches. But they’d decided to get rid of the tigress’ remains in a fire, just in case.

  Next to them, the tigress’ fangs lay—the strongest, sharpest, and largest fangs either of them had ever seen. The twenty claws that were more akin to spears had been the hardest part of the work. Even touching them proved tricky. Despite their owner’s death, the predatory aura was still around them. If an ordinary person had approached them, not a practitioner at the stage of the Bodily Rivers, they would’ve cut them down at a distance of ten steps.

  Fortunately, Nero and Hadjar were at sufficiently high enough stages of cultivation to avoid dying so foolishly.

  This made Hadjar suspect some things and even tempted him.

  He had never scanned Nero. Previously, there had been no reason to do it, but after all the things his friend had done for him... It would’ve been too dishonorable, almost dastardly. And Hadjar wasn’t a scoundrel. Especially with those who had done right by him.

  His simple code of ethics was—pay back both the good and bad a hundredfold.

  He couldn’t permit himself to scan his friend. But, Gods, how great his suspicions were, and how great the temptation.

  “Don’t look at me like that! I won’t marry you!”

  “Who’d want you, a womanizer?” Hadjar laughed, trying to clear his hands of blood.

  “Why are you staring at me, then?”

  “Because I can’t understand what stage you’re on.”

  Nero looked at his comrade, then at the claws, and sighed. Only now he realized how stupid he had been.

  “You know, I trust you, officer. But I’ll warn you, I don’t know how to be friends. I’ve never had any.”

  Suddenly, Nero spat on his palm and offered his hand to Hadjar.

  “What are you doing?” The Prince asked. “Why would I need your saliva?”

  “Where do you come from, Hadj? Is there really no such custom in your village?”

  “The custom to spit on your hand? No, our people are clean. Or do you want to kiss me indirectly?”

  Nero grimaced, “Even the mere thought of it might put me off from being in bed with someone for the next week. And you know that, to me, it’s torture to spend even a single night without a woman.”

  “Well, wipe your hand then. I don’t want to touch your saliva.”

  “Why do you keep misunderstanding me, Hadj?” Nero said in a frustrated, plaintive voice. “This is a custom here.”

  “Where?”

  “All over Lidus! And in the Empire, I guess. In general, brotherhood is sealed with blood. And friendship is sealed with saliva. If your intentions are serious, of course.”

  “If your intentions are serious...” Hadjar repeated. “Are you sure you aren’t proposing to me?”

  “No, I’m not. And if you continue to play the fool, I’ll hit you so hard that no one ever will.”

  Hadjar laughed. He spat on his own palm and they shook hands.

  Nero had just become his first friend ever, even counting his past two lives. It was a damn good feeling.

  “Formation,” Nero said in a low voice as if he were afraid of being heard. “The Seed Stage.”

  “For fuck’s sake… Have I been hitting you so hard in our fights that your brain’s been scrambled or what?”

  “No!” Nero lightly hit the ground with his fist. “This is really starting to annoy me. Come on, friend, have you always been this dense? What have you been eating? While you are ‘One with the sword’, I have twice the energy capacity you do!”

  Hadjar looked at the moon that was rising into the sky. It was beautiful.

  A white muzzle popped out from under his clothes and yawned.

  Damn! The kitten needed to be fed something! What did a young tiger at the Ancient stage usually eat?

  “My blood is not entirely human,” Hadjar answered.

  “Is it heritable?”

  “What?”

  “Bumpkin.” Nero sighed. “In short, according to some legends—and I believe they’re true after tonight—once upon a time, strong beasts would take on the appearances of people and walk among us. Well, of course, they’d spend their nights in people’s beds, not alone. Then, people with ‘not entirely human blood’ would be born. The first of these people with the beasts’ blood became legendary heroes of old. They had a lot of power and they jumped through the stages of cultivation like children going up the stairs.”

  Well, Hadjar didn’t know what percentage of the dragon’s blood was currently circulating through his veins.

  “Then, of course,” Nero continued. “The strength of that inheritance waned. After thousands of years, it came to naught. But sometimes, it awakens in their descendants. Like in you, for example. By the way, whose inheritance do you have?”

  “Grandma said that it was a dragon’s.”

  Nero slapped himself a couple of times and then cursed foully.

  “I swear to you, Hadjar, that I’ll never tell anyone about this,” Nero said quite seriously. Lending severity to his words, he waved a knife over his palm and blood appeared, flashing with a golden glow. He’d made an oath on his very blood, and now, if he broke it, he would burn in the same flame. “But, demons and gods, never tell anyone else about this. Unless you want to become a heap of ingredients.”


  “Of course not! I’m not going to run around and shout about it in each square.”

  “That's good!”

  They fell silent. The kitten meowed louder. Hadjar took a piece of dried meat out of his pocket.

  “Kittens need...” Nero looked on incredulously as the kitten grabbed the meat and dived back into Hadjar’s clothes. “...Milk...”

  “Yeah,” Hadjar said. “We must return to the camp. I have to catch up to you and be at the same stage by the end of tonight.”

  “And how are you going to accomplish this?”

  “Well, we’ll share the spoils. Take all the cores for yourself, but I’ll get the tigress’ one, please, forgive me. Not for personal use. Maybe Azrea will need it later. I’ll buy it from you...”

  “You don’t even have enough money to buy beer with,” Nero reminded him.

  “Ok, I’ll borrow the money, if I have to,” Hadjar said. “One core of the Alpha. I'll give the army a claw from my share. That’ll get me no less than fifty points. Then, with the help of the core, I’ll break through to the Formation stage during the night.”

  Nero nodded his head, then slapped himself in the face and sighed heavily.

  “I know a great Scholar in Spring Town. He treats people who have mental illnesses. I can tell you his address.”

  “What do you dislike about my plan?”

  “To begin with, the whole plan,” Nero inhaled slowly. “To begin with, you don’t need to buy anything from me. We’re friends! And you have to go with me to see some girls after the battle. I don’t want my friend to be a virgin. It shames me as well as you!”

  Hadjar grumbled but agreed.

  “Now, on to the main point. Why would we show our spoils to the army? It’ll be taken away! Even if they’re not, where are we going to hide them? We’re leaving tomorrow! How are you going to learn the meditation scroll in an hour?!”

  Now it was Hadjar’s turn to inhale slowly.

  “We aren’t going to show our spoils. Only two of the claws. You’ll bring one, I’ll bring the other. Let’s say that we found them in the forest during the hunt. The rest of the spoils we’ll keep at Dogar’s.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “Absolutely,” Hadjar nodded. During his life as a freak, he’d developed a good sense for discerning people’s nature. It had never failed him. “Bear is our best bet. Of course, we’ll have to give him a share, but he won’t take too much or betray us.”

  It was evident that Nero didn’t really agree, but he also didn’t argue with Hadjar. He didn’t know the giant, as well as his new friend, did.

  “As for the scroll… I’ve got a good memory.”

  Nero swore again.

  “I don’t understand if you’re the unluckiest person I've ever met or the luckiest.”

  Hadjar shrugged.

  “Okay,” Nero sighed and rose to his feet. “And now for the most important question—how are we going to carry it all back?”

  “That, my friend, is the right question.”

  And both of them started huffing and rubbing their chins, trying to think of a way to carry it all to the camp. Finally, Nero had an idea. From then on, Hadjar would be wary of any of his friend’s ideas and suggestions.

  Nevertheless, they managed to lug their trophies back. Then Hadjar went to get the most important thing—the meditation scrolls that would ensure his breakthrough to the next stage.

  Chapter 49

  “The Transformation Stage… Tell me everything again, and this time in more detail,” Dogar asked.

  They were sitting in the senior officer’s tent. Dogar didn’t look very happy. He kept adjusting the animal skins that served as his blankets. They slipped off all the time. With them, he’d covered the part of his body that neither Nero nor Hadjar wanted to ‘admire’. Judging by the commander’s overall size, they might end up traumatized and with an inferiority complex.

  Autumn was coming and the nights were getting colder. Perhaps that’s why Dogar had been so angry that he’d had to drive a pretty, slim lady out of his tent. She’d left, taking her money.

  “We found a battlefield in the forest,” Nero repeated once more. “A tiger was in a deep ravine. The size of...like that” he demonstrated with his hands the beast’s size. “Well, we managed to carve it up. We’ve taken everything—the claws, fangs, even the pelt. But we didn’t find the core of its power. Apparently, someone else had already managed to take it.”

  “And then?”

  “Then we burnt everything to the abyss,” Hadjar finished.

  Dogar sighed and rubbed his nose. He wasn’t wearing anything except for the animal skins. Anyone could see his black tattoos, bronze skin, and long, pink scars. There were far more scars than tattoos.

  “Why, for demons and gods, did you burn it?”

  “Commander, what else were we supposed to do?” Hadjar spread his hands. “We were in the forest, in a ravine forgotten by the gods. There was a beast at an unknown power level there. We’d carved it up, left only the skeleton and the meat behind. What if someone had found us? If the beast which had killed the tiger had appeared? So, we set it on fire.”

  “You set it on fire... What if a forest fire erupts tonight?”

  “We dug up a trench,” Nero said immediately. “And chopped off all the nearby branches. Even if a strong wind comes in, it’ll rain soon.”

  Dogar sighed.

  “And what is this?” He shouted so loudly that the tent almost flew off into the sky.

  Because of this cry, Azrea, who had been chewing on the senior officer’s stocks peacefully, jumped up and meowed menacingly. She showed the giant her sharp fangs and claws.

  “Is this ball of fur eating my meat and hissing at me?”

  “She has a difficult temper,” Hadjar nodded.

  “Why do you need her, Hadjar? Do you think there will be no food on the march and you’ve prepared some supplies?”

  “You’re so mean, senior officer,” Nero said. Hadjar didn’t even get a chance to answer. “Don’t you know about Hadjar’s problem?”

  “What problem?” Dogar was surprised.

  Realizing what his friend was talking about, the Prince picked up the kitten and put it back under his clothes. Azrea yawned immediately and fell asleep again. Maybe she was still affected by sleep medicine, but, most likely, she just loved taking naps.

  Hadjar was happy she did. He didn’t want to think about what would happen when the kitten realized that her mother was gone. He only hoped that Azrea didn’t remember the tigress at all... It would be easier that way.

  “His bed has never been warmed by a woman.”

  Dogar glanced at Hadjar.

  “I understand… That’s why you’re a little strange, assistant. So… nervous.”

  “I agree completely, Senior Officer Dogar,” Nero nodded.

  Hadjar pretended to hear nothing and continued to sharpen his sword menacingly.

  “Okay, damn it,” the commander sighed. “What do you want from me?”

  “We want you to help us with the items we’ve collected,” Hadjar said quietly.

  “How, officer?”

  “Well,” Hadjar raised his head and looked into Dogar’s eyes. “If we were to carry all of this to the General right now, we’d get several points...”

  “A thousand points,” Dogar corrected. “Maybe even ten thousand. Maybe, for such a treasure, you’ll be granted medals. Maybe even higher rank.”

  “But we’ll get neither the claws nor the skin.”

  Dogar sighed again.

  “So, you are talking about doing that, Hadjar...”

  “We’ll share with the army. Two claws will be enough for them.”

  The giant adjusted his blankets again. He was thinking, and as he did so, he assumed the position of Rodin’s ‘The Thinker’. He looked quite stern and menacing. Nero and Hadjar had to wait for his decision.

  “The General doesn’t deserve to be deceived in such a way,” Dogar said final
ly. “We’ll give her the pelt and fifteen of the claws. Leave the rest for yourselves. I’ll take only one claw, no more.”

  “But, Senior Officer Dog-”

  “Shut up, soldier,” Dogar interrupted calmly, but Nero bowed his head immediately. “We’re going to war. Not chasing skirts in the city, Nero. And not participating in a village brawl, Hadjar. Hundreds of thousands of lives are at stake and, instead of thinking about yourselves, you’d better start thinking about the families of those who won’t return. About their mothers, sons, wives.”

  Hadjar looked down in shame. The wealth had clouded his mind completely. He could see the bigger picture now. If they found the right use for them, these claws and the skin could save the lives of many soldiers. The soldiers of his kingdom. Lidus, the kingdom his father had been prepared to die for.

  “I beg your pardon, Senior Officer!” Hadjar lowered his forehead to the ground.

  Nero followed his example.

  “Stand up,” Dogar waved his hand. “I understand you—such a fortune would make anyone greedy. But, nevertheless, you risked a great deal to get these trophies, so you deserve a part of the spoils, not just Honor points.”

  Nero and Hadjar looked at each other again. They looked at the items. Dogar had set aside a portion that would’ve normally cost as much as a noble rank, or a castle with its surrounding lands, or hundreds of servants. But... they would not be able to sleep easily if they took it.

  They could sleep on a water mattress, but not on a mattress filled with the blood of those who would be standing shoulder to shoulder with them. Who wouldn’t flinch and would fight the enemy without sparing themselves.

  “We’ll take two fangs,” Nero said. “Hadjar and I only need two for swords.”

  “And as for money...” Hadjar said. “Money will come in time.”

  “Good,” Dogar nodded. “And now…”

  The senior officer began to rise, dropping the blankets to the ground. Fortunately, Nero and Hadjar had managed to leave the tent before their male confidence was inflicted with a strong blow to its very core.

  Soon, after hiding their share in the senior officer’s chests, they wrapped most of the booty in the skins and took it to the General. She wasn’t sleeping and, unlike most of the soldiers and officers, was completely alone. She was sitting at the table, observing the map and moving the figures around, coming up with alternate plans and strategies.