Chapter 56: You’re Picking The Wrong House, Fool!

Chapter 56: You’re Picking The Wrong House, Fool! "Ah, that’s the core of it," Karl mused, the reality of the situation settling over him. "So it doesn’t matter if their own kin die, as long as their territorial integrity isn’t violated?" "Precisely," Luma confirmed with a sigh. "That’s how the region has been for as long as I can remember. The orcs basically forced the beastkin into a fragile unity, but one that is careful not to overreach. We all know that breaking this alliance would spell the end of this region." "Tell me more about the demonized orcs," Karl pressed, his curiosity piqued. "Well," Luma began, "the demonized orcs usually come from the Spinebride Forest, which is right next to the orc fortress. Any orc, and even the local wildlife that comes out of it, becomes demonized. They grow much stronger, but lose all sense of control." She continued, "The orc chief has exploited this to push the town of Tallowshade for years, forcing the town to build a massive wall to prevent them from entering the valley, save for a few lucky ones who manage to scale the surrounding cliffs." Karl’s mind began to piece together the region’s geography. "So this region is located on a mountain, and it’s locked off from the rest of the continent?" "Yes," Luma said. "According to our history books and maps, we’re in the northern part of the continent. It gets quite cold here, which gives the orcs a break. But they still attack from time to time, hoping to catch us off guard." "And what about the Spinebride Forest?" Karl asked. "What’s the full story there?" Luma hesitated. "I... I don’t know if I should share this." "If you’re not comfortable, then please," Karl said, holding up a hand. "I understand. I will not force you." Luma took a deep breath. "No, it’s fine. I know you’re an arch-lich, which I assume is your secret. So it’s only right for me to share my own." She sighed again, the weight of the secret heavy on her. "Only the highest officials and the town councils know about this. My grandfather was also assigned to investigate the demonification, which is the real reason the special unit was formed. The public believes it’s just an elite force for offensive missions, scouting, and information gathering. From what I read in my grandfather’s journal, the demonification in the Spinebride Forest is caused by an ancient artifact bound with crimson chains to a stone tower, high in the mountains. This artifact emits a demonic aura that most beastkin can’t handle for long, causing them to succumb to demonification. Ever since its discovery, the orcs and the beastkin alliance have been in a silent race to claim it, but so far, no one has succeeded." "So a superweapon that corrupts the minds of everyone near it," Karl said, his voice thoughtful. "That sounds... horrifying." He changed the subject with a slight shake of his head. "Well, enough talk. I’d like to see your fighting style so we can figure out your preference in weapons." A confident smile spread across Luma’s face. "You’re in for a wild ride, Mr. Karl." They walked to the center of the vast cavern. Karl announced their purpose to a skeleton instructor, and the surrounding skeletons made way. The instructor, his eye sockets gleaming with attention, greeted them. "My lord, what can I do for you?" "We have a valuable customer here who wishes to test her fighting style and find her ideal weapon," Karl said. "What better way than to have one of your men spar with her? It will also be valuable information for you and your soldiers." The instructor’s eye sockets lit up. "That is indeed a wonderful idea, my lord! Do we have the privilege of choosing her opponent?" "Let’s give her that honor," Karl replied, smiling. "This will serve as an evaluation of a soldier’s progress and capabilities." The instructor slightly bowed, then walked to the center of the training floor. "ATTENTION!" he boomed, his voice echoing across the cavern. Everyone stopped what they were doing and surrounded the field. "TODAY! WE HAVE A VERY SPECIAL GUEST WHO WISHES TO SPAR WITH ONE OF YOU! THIS IS A SPECIAL OCCASION, AS OUR LORD WILL BE WATCHING YOU. THE ONE CHOSEN WILL REPRESENT THE ENTIRE LEGION’S CAPABILITIES!" Luma’s eyes widened. "You want me to pick?" she whispered to Karl, pointing at herself. He simply smiled and nodded. Luma’s confident smirk returned as she realized her choice. The instructor continued, "AND THIS WILL ALSO SERVE AS A DEDICATION TO OUR LORD! OUR HARD WORK AND EFFORT WILL FINALLY BE EVALUATED! NOW, DON’T LET US DOWN! GIVE IT YOUR ALL! HURRAH!" The skeletons chanted in unison, their voices a deep, resonant rumble. Luma gulped. They were more formidable than she had expected, but all in all, she was excited to enjoy the fight. Karl smiled at them, his gaze one of pride and respect. Karl nodded at Luma, signaling for her to choose. She scanned the crowd of excited skeletons, many of them gesturing eagerly, hoping to be picked. To be complimented by their lord was the highest honor they could achieve. Her gaze finally landed on a figure just behind the crowd, leaning against a barracks wall. He was dressed in a black hood, his posture that of a guard. This was Rook, a high-ranking skeleton soldier secretly tasked with protecting Karl. Luma smirked at him. She and Rook had a history; they had met during Karl’s first caravan trade in Stonehorn Crossing. At the time, Rook was disguised, but Luma’s sensitive nose had caught his undead scent, leading to a tense confrontation. They had nearly fought then, but a silent truce was called. Now, she could finally settle that grudge. She pointed at him, and the skeletons followed her finger, their collective excitement fading into a quiet, nervous hush. Karl approached Luma and whispered, "Do you have a... beef with him?" "Beef?" she asked, not understanding the slang. "I-I mean, a grudge," Karl corrected. "Well... kind of," Luma admitted. "We met during your first caravan trade, and we nearly fought. Now I want to see how he fares against me, seeing as he was brave enough to challenge me." Her Lupen arrogance flared once more. Karl sighed. "Okay, if that’s what you want, I won’t stop you." He returned to the sidelines as two skeleton soldiers hauled in a pair of weapon racks. Luma’s eyes widened in awe at the sight. The racks contained a stunning variety of weapons from different historical eras: the standard European longsword, hand axes, a double-handed axe, a spear, a pilum, a halberd, a khopesh from ancient Egypt, a Greek Kopis, and Xiphos, a Roman Gladius, and an assortment of daggers and short swords. There were also various Japanese-style swords, including the katana, wakizashi, tachi, ninjato, and the massive nodachi, alongside other polearms like the naginata and nagamaki. As a Lupen warrior, she was only familiar with a few standard weapons. To see such a wide array of forged steel was a sight to behold, a heaven for any warrior. It was ecstatic, and she began to approach the racks. Her eye caught on a finely curved khopesh. The blade’s elegant sweep was a stark contrast to the straight, utilitarian swords she and her grandfather had wielded. This wasn’t a weapon for blocking or parrying; it was made for powerful, decisive slashes—the very fighting style she had always longed for. This blade felt like an extension of herself, a physical manifestation of the warrior she was always meant to be. This was her chance to prove her strength, not just to a formidable foe but to herself, to a lineage of warriors bound by tradition and duty. She didn’t just see a weapon; she saw the promise of her own potential, forged in steel. Luma, now in a trance, performed a series of quick, powerful slashes with the khopesh, the blade whistling through the air. She moved with an innate grace, the weapon feeling light and responsive in her hands. Still, she didn’t want to choose too quickly. She set it down and tried a different sword, and then another, testing the balance and weight of each one before returning to her initial choice. The khopesh was the one. Then, she noticed a matching khopesh and took both. The feel of a weapon in each hand, working in tandem, felt even more natural to her. With a double khopesh now in her hands, she stepped into the center of the field, ready for the challenge. Meanwhile, Rook walked towards Karl at the sides, the skeletons parting, making way for him. "My lord," he said, bowing his head slightly. Karl sighed, glancing at Luma. "I don’t know if she’s unfortunate or lucky to fight you, but do not underestimate her. She is still a knight captain, after all. So you must give it your all. It would also be honorable for her to know that you fought her with all your strength. But please, don’t kill her. I know you trained hard just for this moment, but having enormous power without control is worse than having none, so... yeah." Rook simply nodded, his eye sockets unblinking, and then stepped into position, facing Luma with no discernible emotion. Karl’s eyes flickered upward, a system-like display only he could see appearing above Rook’s head: [Level 25 Bodyguard]. He shook his head, muttering under his breath. "Ayayay, I don’t know if this is a worse match-up, but that guy does not learn how to hold back at all. He might kill Luma and it’ll all be over for us." Rook was the second-highest level minion he had, with his manager taking the first place at [Level 29 Strategist]. He sighed again, a quiet thought in his mind: Hopefully, this ends without too much resistance.