Honourbound: A Progression Fantasy (Surgecaller Book 3)

by Todd Herzman

  One was on the ground, dead. The other—the tiger that had roared—stood over its victim.

  Huon took a split second to check his core—he hadn’t been surging hearing. He knew he hadn’t been, but that roar…

  It’s a unique surge, Huon thought. It was like… some sort of sonic-disorientation blast. It distracted one’s opponent—even for a moment.

  Huon was frozen, staring at the tiger. There was a chance he could beat it—a chance he could win the fight. But if the tiger’s speed was Champion-level, the unique surge might be too. It would be useless until he advanced—he really hadn’t thought this through.

  Huon grasped his sword. For some reason, he felt compelled to fight this tiger. Even if it didn’t make sense.

  There was so much in this world that wasn’t in his control. And even now, oathless… It didn’t feel as if enough had changed.

  It didn’t feel as if him being free would make a difference.

  I can’t stop the army. I can’t fight the Immortal Seven. The Everlasting King. Not like this—not yet.

  He had to feel like he could do something.

  He’d run from the battlefield, left Jamison behind to die. He could rationalise it all he wanted—even if it had been the right thing to do, the only choice… it hadn’t been brave.

  If he were truly to defeat the Everlasting King, he had to be brave.

  And he didn’t need his fearlessness surge to do it.

  Huon burst through the trees. He surged Champion-level fire from his secondary core, surged earth at the same time—instinctively.

  A wall rose up from the ground as fireballs shot at the tiger.

  The tiger, caught by surprise, was momentarily disorientated. It turned and faced Huon.

  But it wasn’t confused for long.

  It opened its giant mouth, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight.

  It’s about to roar, Huon thought.

  He couldn’t afford to be distracted for a second.

  The idea came to him unbidden—a technique he’d never used before, but one he’d seen Liona do.

  He surged wind. The wind essence he had in his secondary core was still full, he’d never had cause to use it during the battle. The wind pooled around his head, then whirled around him, covering his ears, blocking out all chance for noise to get in.

  He stared at the tiger as it roared. Huon couldn’t hear it at all.

  The wall he’d been forming with his earth surge kept rising, making a barrier between them. Huon shot fireball after fireball. The beast took the hits well, wounds healing in moments.

  It sprang forth, jumping over the wall. But Huon hadn’t made the wall to contain the beast on the other side—he’d hoped the beast would jump over it. The moment the beast’s leap took it above the rock wall, Huon surged.

  The rock wall rose, crashing into the beast. Huon couldn’t hear—not with the wind still swirling around his head like a tornado—but he was sure the rock must have broken a few bones—sure the cracks would have sounded through the clearing.

  The force of the rock wall hitting the beast sent its leap higher than it intended, and it soared over Huon’s head.

  As Huon whirled around, a small part of him wondered how he was doing all of this—how he’d been able to surge the wind like that. How he’d been able to surge three elemental essences at the same time.

  That was unheard of for a Knight, as far as Huon knew. He’d surged all four of his elemental essences at the same time only once, but he hadn’t had any control over them—it had been one wild burst.

  This was different.

  A Knight could surge one after the other easily enough—even surging two was something he’d seen Liona do. But three simultaneously?

  Yet he was doing it with ease—something he thought only Champions and above could manage.

  What else has this soul binding done to me? How has it made me so much stronger?

  Huon had wondered if it had been the Honourbound armour that had made his father so strong, but that hadn’t made enough sense. Even if Jakob had escaped with a full set of Core plate, how would he have gained access to Immortal-level essence? Using a soulthief on the Immortal of Fire… that made sense to Huon—but it wasn’t a simple thing, striking an Immortal. And Jakob had not taken Blaze by surprise, like how Huon had wanted to take down the Immortal of Earth…

  This. This is what made him strong—being soulbound. The deal

  Huon had struck with the Celestial offered far more than just his freedom.

  It offered him strength.

  The tiger couldn’t handle the barrage of fireballs. Huon could see it. Slowly but surely, the tiger’s wounds weren’t healing half as quickly as before.

  Then they weren’t healing at all.

  It took seconds, not minutes, for the beast to fall to the ground. When it did, Huon ceased all his surging. He took a long breath, and coughed at the smell—the scent of burned fur filled the clearing. Huon stared at the beast, remembering when he’d killed Shurie’s mother.

  He should feel regret at what he’d done… he hadn’t had to fight this beast, just as he hadn’t had to fight Shurie’s mother.

  I didn’t have a choice. I need this to become stronger.

  He needed as much unique essence as he could get his hands on. If that meant taking down beasts… then he would.

  Huon looked over at the other dead tiger, and realised he didn’t just have one core to harvest—he had two.

  The harvesting was grim work.

  Chapter 17

  Huon washed his hands at the river before returning to the cave.

  The core he’d harvested from the tiger he’d killed had contained only Champion-level essence.

  It was useless to him. At least, useless until he advanced—and he had no idea when that would be.

  The other core, from the other dead tiger? That one, fortunately, had some Knight-level essence. Much of the essence inside it was Champion-level, like the first tiger—its speed, strength and stamina—but the unique surge within was Knight-level.

  Huon sat cross-legged in the middle of the cave. Shurie had ventured out to hunt. He was all alone in the darkness—the only light that of the glowing core—focused on the unique essence.

  He wasn’t sure he even needed to test this anymore. It was clear the soul binding had gained him proficiency in his surges—it didn’t make them stronger. He still had to train them, but it had made them easier for him to use—easier for him to juggle different ones at the same time.

  He knew, when he cultivated this roar surge, he’d be able to use it right away.

  He struggled to imagine using such a surge. What would he do, stop in the middle of a fight and yell at his enemy? But he’d seen, felt, how effective it was.

  Huon let out a breath, then cultivated the essence into his core.

  Like the last three times, the cultivation sent a shockwave through his body, one he felt in his bones. The essence lingered around his throat, stinging something fierce before it finally entered his core, and Huon felt the reassuring weight of a new surge within.

  Huon breathed again—he’d held his breath through the process, not surged it, just held it.

  He put the core aside, the other essences within were useless to him.

  There was no point hesitating—Huon licked his lips, then surged roar.

  The essence pooled around his throat, as it had when he’d cultivated it. It enhanced his voice fourfold. The sound echoed around the cave. He felt how loud it was, but it didn’t hurt his own ears—didn’t disorientate him.

  And using it? It felt… natural. It instantly felt natural. The surge ran out with one yell, but that was okay—he knew how to cultivate more.

  How is this possible? Huon thought. The soul binding… it felt like… like he’d advanced to a new rank. But he hadn’t. He was still a Knight—he just felt like more than a Knight.

  The downside the bin
ding had brought him—of having part of his essence slip away, used by the Celestial—barely seemed like a downside at all when considering everything he’d gained.

  I’ve lost an aspect of my soul—that’s a high price.

  Of course, he still didn’t know what that meant—didn’t know how it had affected him. He still felt like… himself.

  Huon stood and paced around the cave, wondering how he could best utilise this new surge. He remembered a technique he’d used—without even knowing he could—back in the Justice Arena, when he’d fought Jamison.

  He’d breathed fire.

  What if he could do that again? I can do that again—easily.

  What if he could do that again, while surging roar? Disorientate an enemy while breathing flames at them?

  Huon smiled. The words I will become strong ran through his mind. Except, now he was strong. He might not be a Champion, Legend, Immortal or Celestial, but he had the potential to be. He’d unlocked something amazing by making that deal.

  And he was free.

  Liona. He clenched his fists. This was a waste of time, indulging in his newfound strength. He should be out there, looking for her, not lingering here testing his new abilities.

  He looked at the cave entrance—he’d left it open so Shurie could return.

  Was he as strong as he thought he was? If so, why hadn’t he gone after Liona yet?

  What was stopping him?

  His heart raced.

  I’m afraid—afraid of getting captured again.

  The last time he’d left the mountains to walk toward society, it had not ended well.

  Liona wasn’t in the war—she would be safe, wouldn’t she? She probably escaped the queendom already… escaped the Everlasting King’s hold.

  More excuses. He was just finding reasons to stay here. Finding reasons not to go after her.

  Huon relaxed his clenched fists, then walked out of the cave, surging his hearing as he did. A few moments later, he registered the sound of Shurie’s wings, then went out to find the sky-eagle.

  He’d stayed here too long—it was time to leave. Time to go after Liona.

  I won’t get captured again. And I will find you.

  Chapter 18

  Huon’s first thought had been to ride on the back of Shurie, but he didn’t want to be spotted in the air. There would no doubt be scouts everywhere right now, their eyes searching for danger.

  He wasn’t sure how far away the capital of the queendom was—he wasn’t even sure how to get there. He’d travelled around the land for weeks with Jakob, but there was so much of it he hadn’t seen.

  So he ran, Shurie flying low nearby. He didn’t have any Champion-level speed to surge, but that didn’t matter—triple-surging speed made him plenty fast.

  He wasn’t running back the way he came—he was running up the trail, to the top of the mountain. He remembered the massive metal spires and towers of Caralor. He may not be able to surge sight, but surely from the mountain’s peak he’d be able to spot the shining city. It was better than wasting time running in the wrong direction for days on end.

  The mountain, as he suspected, was nowhere near as tall as the Shurin mountains had been—and there was less terrain to climb. Besides, now he was a Knight and not a Squire, making it up a mountain became far easier.

  As he was almost there, he wondered if riding Shurie to the top would have been a better plan—but he couldn’t doubt himself. Not anymore. Now, he was finally making his own decisions again. He had to be decisive, or he’d never be able to achieve his goals. Shurie wasn’t ready to be ridden—he sensed that when he looked at her. And he sensed that when she was ready, she would let him know.

  Whatever bond they had between them, it only grew stronger by the day.

  It was dark by the time Huon reached the highest peak. He didn’t let himself collapse onto the snow and rest—there wasn’t time for that. He worried that when he’d gotten here, the darkness would stop him from seeing the city.

  But he spotted it right away.

  Caralor, the capital of the Queendom of Arisalon, shone in the moonlight, its metallic structures glimmering. He couldn’t tell much from this far away—couldn’t tell if it had been attacked, if an army was amassing near it—but at least he knew where it was now.

  He patted Shurie on the head. ‘Had I not come here, I would have run off in the wrong direction.’

  He looked down at the mountain and sighed. Climbing this thing might have saved him time, but it didn’t feel like it—now he had to get back down.

  ~

  Running to the capital of Arisalon had been an uneventful affair, something Huon was glad for. With his acute hearing surge, he’d managed to avoid bumping into any soldiers.

  He’d heard them, on his way. Patrols wandering through the plains and forests. He didn’t know what they were searching for—didn’t know which side they were from—but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t bump into any of them.

  He looked at his wrist. He couldn’t see the soul binding beneath his armour. The perfect, black circle, completely filled in. But it still worried him.

  If anyone saw it, they’d know something was different about him.

  Huon looked at the city from atop a hill, then looked at the army amassed in front of it. The battle Huon had run from… the Everlasting King had won, and now he was about to lay siege to the capital.

  He’s going to win this.

  From this high, Huon could see the metal arena. He sighed in relief. The siege hadn’t begun yet. He’d worried the days he’d lost getting here would mean he was too late.

  But the walls of the city were intact.

  Though that might not last long. Strange structures were being built outside of those walls, ones reminiscent of the massive ballistae atop the towers back in Glenhaven.

  Catapults.

  He didn’t know what the catapults would launch, but knowing the Everlasting King… He created surge-gems, soulthiefs, Core armour… what else has he got in his bag of tricks? What other inventions brought him into power, all those years ago?

  Huon scratched under Shurie’s chin, and stared at the city walls again. He may have made it here before the battle began, but that didn’t mean he’d be able to get inside the city.

  As he scratched under Shurie’s chin, he frowned, staring at her. Usually, when he did this, she would coo softly. He looked at her—her mouth was open.

  Then he froze.

  Silence—he was surrounded by silence. How hadn’t he noticed?

  I’ve felt this before.

  Huon whirled, drawing his sword. When he turned, he found a massive white wolf.

  With a thirteen-year-old boy astride it.

  Huon lowered the sword, relief flowing through him. Sir Galen survived. He looked behind the boy, wondering if his mothers were here, but the boy appeared to be alone. Instinctively, Huon surged acute hearing, but it didn’t break through the silence.

  Sir Galen, he mouthed, the words not meeting the air.

  Sir Galen raised a hand. Noise crashed into Huon like a wave.

  ‘Sir Galen, you escaped!’

  The boy Knight smoothly dismounted Snow, landing neatly. He walked up to Huon, a determined look on his face. ‘I did.’ His forehead creased. ‘But my parents didn’t.’ He moved his cloak, put a hand on the hilt of his sword. ‘Whose side are you on, Huon?’ Sir Galen nodded at the amassing army. ‘Those are your people.’

  Huon shook his head. ‘I’m not with them.’

  ‘You’re wearing their armour!’ Sir Galen drew his sword. ‘You didn’t think we’d find out Walker was dead? We sent word to the arena. Strange, how you and Liona still turned up there.’ He stepped closer, gripping his sword tighter. ‘I heard what happened. Your Immortal of Fire. The match.’ He pointed the sword at Huon’s Honourbound breastplate. ‘You were taken back.’

  Huon stopped himself from raising his own sword. ‘I escaped.’


  ‘Were you part of the attack on Landor?’

  ‘I—’

  ‘Were you?’

  Huon hung his head. ‘I had no choice, Galen.’

  ‘That’s Sir Galen to you, outsider!’

  ‘I was bound! I… had no choice but to fight. I had no idea what happened to your parents—I promise.’

  ‘Show me your wrist.’ Sir Galen waved the sword toward Huon’s binding. ‘You may be a Knight now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t defeat you.’

  Snow padded forward, lowering her head in a snarl.

  Huon shut his eyes. He’d never imagined meeting the boy Knight again. He tried to think—was there some way he could talk his way out of this?

  What would happen, if he revealed the truth to Sir Galen? He wanted us to be free, back then. He would have let us go, if he could. But a lot had changed since Huon and Liona had been trying to gain a sponsor in Landor…

  ‘I don’t want to fight—on either side of this war. Those people? My people? They have no choice. I… I don’t want to hurt them. And I don’t want to hurt your people, either. That’s why I escaped—it’s why I ran.’ Huon swallowed, then made a decision. He didn’t know how Sir Galen would react. He didn’t know how… how to explain this bond when he didn’t fully understand it himself. But there was only one way to find out how this would go.

  Huon removed his bracer, let it fall to the ground, then rolled up his sleeve. He held his arm out, the underside of his wrist facing up.

  ‘What…’ Sir Galen blinked, then he took hold of Huon’s arm with his left hand, his sword dropping. ‘It’s… filled in. What kind of binding is that?’

  Huon bit the inside of his cheek. ‘It’s… a soul binding. It’s what helped me escape.’ Huon pulled his arm from the boy’s grip. ‘It’s why I’m free.’

  ‘A soul binding.’ Sir Galen frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I barely understand myself.’ Huon rubbed his wrist, then rolled the sleeve back down. He didn’t feel safe having his new binding showing. Grabbing the bracer from the ground, he strapped it back into place. ‘Did you know, there’s a higher level of advancement than Immortal?’