“Ah, yeah. I guess we do. Then again, it’s not every day you see a talking sword, so that’s only natural.”
“So true.”
“I’d appreciate it if we could stop talking about the sword and get down to business.” Dolton crossed his thick arms over his chest. “You mentioned something about daggers for the lady…”
At the invite, Jacob gestured to Enyo, who realized what he wanted and hurriedly described what she was looking for. “I’d like two blades. They need to be longer than the average dagger, about fifteen centimeters, and the blades need to be one-sided and curved with a jagged edge in the back. If possible, I’d like them to be made from obsidian, but mythril will do as well. I also want them to have runes inscribed upon the surface, and for the hilt, please use the hide of a manticore or griffin.”
Jacob winced the more he listened. Enyo clearly didn’t realize how expensive this was going to be.
“I can certainly make that order, though I’ll need to buy some more materials,” Dolton said at last. He turned to Jacob. “You got the money on hand?”
Jacob winced. “Not for something that extravagant.”
“I guess we’ll do this the usual way then,” Dolton murmured. “Once you get the money, come see me again. I’ll have the daggers ready.”
“Thanks, Dolton.”
“Anything for a friend.”
Jacob and Enyo left the shop, the door closing behind them. He could hear the lumbering of Dolton’s heavy footsteps recede. Knowing that man, he was probably going to get started on making those daggers soon. That meant he would need to scrounge up the money.
“Um, Jacob? I was wondering…”
“About?”
Enyo nodded as Jacob grabbed the silent Durandal, sheathe and all, and strapped the sword to his back. “Yes. I mean, I just realized that we don’t have much money.”
“And you were wondering how I planned on getting some, right?”
Nodding as the Durandal slid into the sheath with a soft click, Enyo said, “well, yes.”
“That’s simple.” Jacob grinned at his confused companion. “We are going on a quest.”
***
Quests were basically jobs that people could take in order to make money. Every town had a quest board, usually in front of a tavern or inn, where wandering mercenaries or missionaries could grab them. These quests varied a lot in what was required for their completion. Some asked for the destruction of a bandit hideout, while others could be a monster extermination, and more still might be a quest to protect caravans on their journeys.
It had been a long time since Jacob had taken a quest, three years, in fact; he’d not gone on a quest since his journey across Terrasole.
Back then, Jacob had always been in need of cash. Traveling cost money. Paying for an inn, buying food and supplies… everything cost money. So, whenever he needed cash for whatever reason, he would take a quest or two in the nearest city.
The quest that he and Enyo were taking was a monster extermination quest. There were apparently several cockatrices that had been attacking travelers on the road west of Deterion. Several caravans that were supposed to have delivered ore and precious gems to Alysium had been attacked and their cargo lost.
Since Enyo couldn’t fight up close until her daggers were finished, Jacob had her playing support. She was a strong magic user. With her light and dark magic, she could act as both a healer and a long-range attacker, both of which were important roles when traveling in a party.
Jacob ducked and wove around the cockatrices beak. Right. Left. Right. Right. Spin. The beak slammed into the ground, kicking up dirt. Jacob would have used that moment to attack, but the cockatrice was quick to recover. Its large, leather wings tried to swat at him, but he avoided them, moving only enough to not get hit. He could feel the attacks rustling his clothing.
He leapt back. The cockatrice roared. As it charged at him, its tri-tipped feet digging into the ground, Jacob swung Durandal, hitting the creature’s beak. Rather than slice right through it, there was a loud clang! as the sword glanced off the beak.
“What the hell, Durandal? What are you doing?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Are we fighting? I thought you didn’t need me anymore.”
“Are you still upset about what happened at Dolton’s?”
“Of course not. Oh, no. I’m not upset. Certainly not. I mean, it’s not like my partner decided to neglect me in favor of letting some chick get a pair of daggers to fondle.”
The cockatrice’s screech rattled Jacob’s teeth, but by channeling energy into his ears, he blocked out the worst of it. It came at him again. Its headlong charge was halted when he slammed into it with a fist. As the cockatrice sailed backward, two more of them ganged up on either side in a pincer attack.
“Enyo! Light up the one on the left!”
“Got it!”
Several yards behind him, Enyo chanted a spell.
“Ustulo. Uro. Torro.”
Black flames gathered in the palm of her hand, and, as she clenched her hand into a fist, the flames burst and became all the brighter. She sliced her hand through the air. The flames shot forth like a wave. They slammed into the cockatrice and overtook it, igniting its feathers and turning the large fire-breathing chicken into a flambé. The monster’s death screech died seconds later as it turned to dust.
Jacob, meanwhile, dealt with the other one. Since Durandal was being stubborn, he resheathed his sword and engaged in the creature with hand to hand combat. This was normally a dumb thing to do. Cockatrices had the ability to petrify humans with a mere touch. Jacob counteracted this by coating his hands in energy.
His first punch caused cracks to appear along the creature’s beak, and then his second punch shattered it. The cockatrice reared back and screeched in agony. Jacob silenced its screeching by unclenching his hand, straightening it until it was pointed like a knife, and then jamming his now knife-shaped hand through its chest. As he pulled his hand out, blood spurted from the wound. The cockatrice crowed once, then fell onto its back.
The last cockatrice shrieked as if enraged by the death of its comrades. Its wings flapped as it charged at Jacob, who bent his knees, channeled energy to the bottom of his feet, and shot forward like a lightning bolt. He walloped the cockatrice with a reinforced kick to the head. It wasn’t until the head exploded that he realized he’d put too much power into his attack.
“Ugh…” He grimaced as he stared at his pant leg. It was covered in gore, and it was sticking to his leg, which didn’t feel very pleasant. “This is gonna take forever to get out…”
“Jacob!” Enyo came running up to him. “Are you—ew…” She stopped running and plugged her nose. “You stink of blood.”
“Thanks for letting me know that.” Jacob sighed. “I hadn’t realized it until you said something.”
“S-sorry,” Enyo apologized.
“It’s fine.” Jacob ran a hand through his hair. It felt sticky. “Would you mind if we find a stream or pond where I can wash myself off before heading back?”
“I think that’s fine. I remember seeing one a little way out.”
“I also think I should let Durandal soak in a nice pond as well.”
“Do ya want me to rust?!”
“Yes,” Jacob answered as he and Enyo headed off the road and into the surrounding groves.
The area around Deterion consisted of mostly open plains and rocky deserts. However, the area that he and Enyo had traveled to had a small patch of forest. Jacob was hoping to find a stream or something running through it that he could use to wash his pants and leg off in.
“How cruel! Partner, you are too cruel!”
“Who’s the one that wouldn’t fight with me while I was battling the cockatrice?”
“That’s only because ya had me wait outside while ya spoke with that unappreciative idiot.”
“That man may not appreciate you because a sentient sword is bad for business, but I need him to make some daggers for
Enyo, or would you rather she not have weapons to protect herself with?”
Durandal made a sound akin to a tsk. “All right. Fine. I understand. She needs a weapon. I’ll forgive ya this once.”
“Thank you.”
Jacob and Enyo shared a smile. Durandal did this every time Jacob did something to upset it. They would argue, Durandal would call him a bad partner, and then the sword would get over and life continued on. It had happened so much already that even Enyo seemed to have become a keeper of the inside joke.
It took longer than anticipated to reach a stream, but they eventually found one several kilometers from where they had slain the cockatrice. They wouldn’t need to worry about anyone trying to claim the mission while they took a detour. All people who accepted a mission spoke with the bartender/innkeeper and were logged into a Quest Book, which stated that they had accepted the mission and only they could be paid. It was an efficient method of keeping thieves from trying to swindle people out of their rightful pay.
While Enyo stood several meters away, behind a series of trees, Jacob stripped off his pants and, after a moment’s thought, decided to take off all his clothes. Since he was there, he might as well clean himself more fully. Durandal rested against a tree to his left.
However, as he cleaned himself, the snapping of a branch alerted him to someone’s presence. He turned his head toward the source. Then he frowned. There was nothing there.
He went back to washing himself. The rustling of shrubs made him look in the same direction again. There was still nothing there. His frown deepened.
Is it Enyo?
He didn’t think Enyo would peek on him while he was naked. That said, when he used to take baths in the palace, several of the maids had spied on him through an eye hole in the bath house’s walls. Of course, he hadn’t found out about that until after Queen Alice had caught the maids in the act.
When, after another few seconds, nothing happened, Jacob went back to washing himself off.
A burst of killing intent was the only warning he had.
The world around him exploded.
Jacob gritted his teeth as he reinforced his body, covered his vitals, and rode out the blast. Heat assailed him from all sides. The concussive force would’ve knocked him off his feet had he not crouched on the ground. Fire scorched his skin, and even though he’d created a shield of energy over his body, that didn’t stop the pain from searing through his mind.
The explosion died down. Jacob stood up, casting a glance around the glade. That burst of killing intent had disappeared, but there existed a lingering hint of malcontent, a desire to harm. Whoever had tried to kill him was still there.
“I see you survived that,” a voice said, echoing all around him. “I’m surprised, but then again, you are the hero who fought and defeated the Dark Lord, Alucard. I guess it’s only natural that a sneak attack of this nature wouldn’t work on you.”
“Your astute observation is rather impressive,” Jacob retorted. “Are you always this intelligent, or do you simply enjoy stating the obvious?”
“Ha ha ha! Such wit! I wonder how long that will last!”
A twinge of murderous intent. Jacob moved. The earth exploded. Fire and rock shards and water flew everywhere. Several of those shards would have hit him, but Jacob blew them apart with a couple well-placed punches.
“Impressive! Your reflexes are quite astounding.”
“Almost makes you wonder if I’ve done this before, doesn’t it?”
“Ha! Indeed. However, let’s see how long you can keep this up.”
The ground detonated again and again, forcing Jacob to constantly retreat. Only the flash of killing intent warned him of the danger. This allowed him to remain one step ahead of the explosions. Even so, Jacob could feel the searing heat and air pushing him back.
Jacob flipped along the ground. He landed next to Durandal, grabbing the sheath and hilt, and pulling the blade out with a sibilant hiss of steel. Another burst of killing intent. Jacob leapt to the side. The tree detonated, gouts of flame blasting off and sending fiery splinters in every direction.
“You’re awfully good at running away!” the voice laughed.
“And you’re awfully good at hiding,” Jacob retorted. “So, does the man fighting me have a name, or should I just call you coward?”
“You may refer to me as Shade. I am an assassin sent by the Dark Council to kill you.”
“How forthright of you to tell me the reason you’re trying to kill me.”
Despite acting nonchalant, Jacob couldn’t deny that he was concerned. The Dark Council, the people who determined who would become the next Dark Lord, were after him. He could only think of one reason why they would attack now after all this time.
“You’re a distraction,” Jacob said. “Enyo is the one you really want.”
“Heh… that’s right. We don’t care about you, hero. Our only concern is reclaiming the Dark Lady, who decided to go rogue for some reason. You’re merely an annoyance that needs to be stepped on.”
“Durandal?” Jacob whispered quietly.
“Ten meters and to left. He’s standing on a tree branch.”
“Gotcha.”
Jacob slid into a wide stance, knees bending, sword held in a ready position near his head. He breathed lightly in, held it, then breathed out. He was facing away from the tree that Durandal said his opponent was lurking in.
“If you think I’m just a ‘mere annoyance,’ then you clearly don’t know me as well as you should,” Jacob declared. “Allow me to correct your erroneous thoughts for you.”
“Please do,” the voice, tinged with amusement, said. “I’m dying to see how powerful the hero who slayed Alucard really is.”
“Don’t worry. I will show you my power. Right. Now!”
Jacob spun around and swung his sword, unleashing a massive blue crescent wave of energy that sliced straight through the tree. A figure leapt out of it. Landing in a crouch on the ground, their black leather pants creaked as they stood up. Pale skin stood out starkly against a shirt of midnight black. Dark purple hair hung down his head, surrounding a pale face with a long nose and crimson eyes.
“So, you’re my would-be assassin?” Jacob asked. “Not much to look at.”
“I love that bark you’ve got,” Shade said, his lips twisting into a blood thirsty sneer. “And don’t worry. Even if I look young, I’m probably several decades older than you.”
“In that case, you probably won’t be able to keep up with me, old geezer.”
“Ha! We’ll see.”
Shade shot forward in a burst of speed, so fast that Jacob would have missed the man if he blinked. A sword shot out seemingly from nowhere. Jacob blocked it with Durandal, and the two swords struck each other in a flurry of sparks.
“Oh! Is this made of adamantine?” Durandal asked. Shade blinked. “I haven’t fought against a blade made from that in a while.”
Their blade’s locked, Shade’s face came so close their noses were almost touching. “Your sword just spoke.”
“You got a problem with that?” asked Jacob.
“Not at all.” Shade grinned. “But you are just full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“I try.”
They broke apart. Jacob leapt back several meters before, with a grunt of effort, he slashed his blade down. Another blue crescent of energy flew from Durandal. It sliced across the ground, gouging chunks out of the earth. Shade wore a grin as he swung his sword. The air in front of him combusted.
Narrowing his eyes, Jacob studied the technique as his crescent wave was destroyed. Fire flared everywhere. The blue energy of his attack dispersed to the wind.
“I see,” Jacob said. “Your power is explosion.”
“Oh, you are good,” Shade said. “How did you figure that out, I wonder?”
Jacob shrugged. “Who knows?”
“If you know what my power is, then does that mean you also know how it works?”
“Maybe.”
“Then you know that I don’t need to swing my sword, right? Or that I can make explosions happen anywhere? Crepitus!”
Jacob tensed just as a powerful explosion rocked his left flank. Pain seared into his flesh. His bones were rattled. He hadn’t been able to reinforce his body. He could feel blisters breaking out on his skin, feel his flesh bubbling. It took everything he had not to scream.
“Oh, I guess you didn’t know about that last part, did you?” Shade asked.
Jacob gritted his teeth as he realized that this person, this assassin, might be more trouble than he assumed. Had he been in shape, Jacob was sure he could have easily defeated this Shade character, but it was going to be a lot harder since he hadn’t fought any true battles in years.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jacob said with a scowl. He sent energy into his wound. It would heal within a few seconds. “Now that I know, you won’t get another attack on me like that again.”
“Is that confidence or arrogance speaking, I wonder?” Shade questioned before creating another explosion directly in front of Jacob.
Having finally gotten a grasp on this man’s tactics, Jacob understood that this first attack was designed to draw his attention away from the real danger. Using Linked Energy Manipulation, he reinforced his body and leapt into the flames, bursting out the other side and charging for Shade.
He sliced the air with Durandal, creating a multitude of tiny crescent waves. Each wave cut toward Shade, who used his own sword and his explosion magic to stop them. Then Jacob was there, in front of his foe, attempting to bisect him straight down the middle. It didn’t work. Shade blocked it. The clang! of their swords echoed across the clearing.
Shade was an excellent swordsman. He used a minimalistic style that reminded Jacob of swashbucklers, and his sword was a reflection of that style. Unlike Durandal, which was a massive double-edged sword that would normally be used with two hands, the one that Shade wielded was thin, about 16 centimeters in length, and had the unique handguard that was preferred by fencers.
Normally, such a sword would have given Shade a disadvantage in a sword fight, but his skill at swordplay was such that he wasn’t hampered. His style also seemed uniquely suited to dealing with Jacob’s superior strength and speed. He never took one of Jacob’s attacks head on. Every time Jacob swung Durandal, Shade intercepted it at an angle, negating most of the power behind it.
Journey of a Betrayed Hero- Volume 1 Page 14