76. POV of a sand guard

The main road wasn’t far from the path they came through after picking sufficient Blursage. Ansel relished the feel of the wind whipping through his hair as his horse moved down the well-maintained but rocky road. He nudged the horse to quicken the speed to get in line with the guards— soon, the rhythm and the peaceful wind that blew across his face put his mind to a calm state; he heard his thoughts shifting from the present to back when they were met with the barbarians. The men were twice his size. But still, his agility wouldn’t hold him against men with that physique and nature for long. Even from afar, their auras were dangerous. The tension that had gripped almost the entire troupe had finally loosened its hold. The further he moved from the barbarians, he felt a pleasant ache in his muscles due to all the movements he had undergone the previous night. He tried and put away all the thoughts that crept into his mind, especially about the fight. Intentionally, he looked around. Unlike the treacherous mountain paths they had just walked, this road was a marvel of human ingenuity. Wide and smooth, it snaked its way through the landscape, a vital artery connecting the far-flung regions of the kingdom to the bustling heart of the capital city. As they joined the steady flow of traffic that was caused by other carriages, Ansel's gaze darted around, taking in the sights and sounds. Carriages of all shapes and sizes rumbled past them— merchants hawking their wares, nobles travelling in opulent coaches, and simple folk making their way to the capital for various reasons. He could even see small strands of civilization quite far away with huts and serfs trying to control their cattle. It drew a smile to his lips. A lifetime ago, it seemed, Ansel himself had been one of those travellers, a mercenary forever chasing the next thrill, the next monster to slay. He'd travelled the length and breadth of various kingdoms, a restless wanderer drawn to the unknown. He'd lingered in bustling cities, savoured the camaraderie of taverns, and revelled in the freedom of the open road. But that was before he had come to Veralt and decided to take part in the expedition against the larvae. The memory of the monstrous creatures and the devastation they wrought sent a shiver down his spine. He recalled everything from the battle. The way they'd fought against them, and Lord Arzan who had been the central figure, kept the monsters at bay and made sure most of them returned alive. Ansel sighed. The display of Lord Arzan in the fight against the larvae was one of the main reasons why he stayed behind with the guards after the extermination. Sure, it wasn't the same exhilarating freedom he'd known as a traveller, but this was different. When he was a traveller, he’d stopped in a few places from time to time, but it had never been a job. He’d had his freedom by simply travelling, monster hunting and staying at the inn. As they passed yet another cluster of thatched-roof huts nestled amongst rolling fields, Ansel felt a familiar pang of nostalgia. He missed the thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline rush of facing a dangerous creature. But for now, this… this wasn't bad. Especially since he had other plans in his mind. Ansel rubbed the back of his neck. After so long, he felt as if he had a routine, a companionship where he’d fit in, and he had even managed to make friends and strengthen his training. Though he'd broken the routine to get to the capital, it felt like a positive change. Travelling had also become repetitive and ordinary for him and it held little appeal. He’d spent years on the road, chasing beasts and duelling with other mercenaries on the road. What ignited a spark in his mind for this trip that he had asked to be one of the guards was the fact that they were going towards the capital. He’d never been to the Lancephil Kingdom's capital. He wanted to see it, learn more about it and see if whatever he had heard about it was true. One more reason was also Lord Arzan. He wanted to keep a close eye on him. Ansel’s thoughts were a whirlwind once again. It wasn't for anything strange. In his mind, he just felt like Lord Arzan had been the person he had been looking for all this time. He hadn't been disappointed till now. Just the vivid display of a hundred flaming arrows in the air, aimed towards the barbarians kept him on his toes. He had seen Mages from afar, but he never saw anyone showing off such power. It was a sight that he was sure would become a big legend in one of the taverns if he recounted the tale. Moreover, with Lord Arzan… there was a mystery. Ansel knew tidbits. Duke's son, whispered rumours of an ancient household. But the man himself was a cypher. Just his guards were enough proof. seaʀᴄh thё Nôvelƒire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. He had seen Killian and the others— The Enforcers. Their movements were too quick and their reactions inhumane. He saw the power for the first time back in the caves and then every morning on the training grounds. One day, he had even been lucky enough to witness Killian practising what looked suspiciously like magic in the pre-dawn light. His feet had moved fast, sometimes in a blur. There would be a spark around his legs. Also, the knight would have the energy to move with the agility of a black horse and strength twice even after a long training session. Ansel winced as he recalled the duel he had with him and how he had been defeated in less than a minute. Apparently, Killian had grown stronger in the past few months. It was an open secret the guards— Enforcers were Arzan's "special forces," individuals somehow empowered by his magic. Ansel didn't buy it. He'd seen too much. Men, not Mages, wielding power that defied explanation. Mainly because in his tribe, there were similar techniques; the techniques that he wasn’t qualified for. But he had seen enough of them. He didn’t know why Arzan knew them, or how he came to empower his guards with them. However, it only proved one thing— that he was the man Ansel was looking for. If he could, he’d talk about everything with him directly. But Ansel was bidding time in an attempt to prove himself worthy for Lord Arzan, especially with the beast wave that was on the horizon. In any way he was successful and survived the beast wave, he’d let Lord Arzan know about his true intentions. Thus, it was only a matter of time. As he pondered on how to go about it, a guttural shriek suddenly tore through his eardrums as the horse stopped in shock, jolting Ansel from his introspective reverie. His gaze snapped upwards, searching the azure expanse above. A dark mass of feathered shadows blotted out the sun momentarily. Ansel's blood ran cold. “It’s a group of scroungers!” He shouted out as the carriages behind him stopped. With squinted eyes, he took a better look at it. Monstrous birds with leathery wings and lethal beaks. The scroungers swooped lower, their bald heads adorned with menacing horns like twisted crowns. A spark of lightning passed through the horns as he grimaced. Memories of a past encounter with these electrified nightmares flooded his mind— the smell of burnt feathers, the paralysing crackle of lightning in the air that came from their beaks. Due to their ability to use lightning, they were also called storm vultures in some regions. Panic flickered in the eyes of the guards around him, their hands tightening instinctively around their weapons. They were simply Grade 2 beasts, but they weren't easy to deal with all the lightning around them. A line of arrows erupted from the carriage behind, a desperate attempt to ward off the approaching storm. But the arrows met a horrifying end— deflected mid-air by crackling bolts of condensed lightning launched from the scrounger's horns. Ansel shook his head, not wanting to deal with this at the moment. But there was no way out. He knew the scroungers loved human flesh and maybe, it was their bad luck that they had encountered such a group on the road to the capital. "Shields up!" he yelled. His hand darted towards the sturdy shield strapped to his back. Confusion and fear marred the guard's faces for a fleeting moment before they sprang into action. Maybe, they wouldn't be able to react in time if they were ordinary guards, but most of them had the experience of battling the larvae in the nest. They were better prepared to deal with beasts now and a silent understanding passed between them. Soon, shields were raised, forming a wall of steel against the oncoming storm. "Aim for their chests!" Ansel yelled, his voice hoarse but unwavering. “Around the ribcage. That's where their power comes from!" A guard, young and green, hesitated, his brow furrowed in uncertainty. "Their chests? But won't they just… shock us?" Ansel didn't have time for elaborate explanations. "They channel the lightning through that point!" he said as his hands shook with the sudden adrenaline rush that came. "Disrupt their mana flow, and they're as vulnerable as any overgrown pigeon!" As the words left his mouth, the scroungers swooped down with ferocious intensity. The guards immediately raised their shields, their swords flashing as they fended off the relentless attack. Despite their efforts, the vulture-like beasts were unnervingly powerful, their talons and beaks tearing through armour and flesh. Lightning flashed around their horns, falling on the guards in an attempt to shock them. “Argh!” An injured guard cried out as lightning shook his arms, sending shockwaves throughout his body. He dropped his weapon as the scrounger pounced. A bolt of lightning gained Ansel’s attention before he could focus on the wounded. It illuminated the chaos, making it impossible for him to stay back. Ansel leapt from his horse and swung his spear in a wide arc. The sharp tip sliced cleanly through a scrounger, its blood spraying the ground in crimson. A bolt of lightning came his way, but he kept his distance, using the long handle of his spear to stab the ribcage. As one of the strikes landed, the scrounger cried out in pain and lightning around it was disrupted. Taking the chance, Ansel moved, his spear going through the centre of its bald head as it powerlessly fell to the ground. But before he could savour the kill, another scrounger came towards him at an unearthly speed, its eyes burning with malic for all he could explain. He was about to raise his spear to defend when Killian materialised from behind. He was a blur of motion when his sword struck like a malefic cobra, precise and deadly, cutting down one scrounger after another. For a few seconds, Ansel kept watching Killian, noticing the sparks around his legs. Unlike the scroungers, they were blue, probably using mana. More lightning flew towards Killian as the scroungers saw their comrades dying under his sword, but they weren't even able to touch him as he jumped around, battling the beaks and horns of the scroungers. Not wanting to stand for long, Ansel joined him, taking turns to slice through them, earning loud screeches from all the fallen scroungers. A few of them flew away, probably fearing their death, but others were persistent. Their amount seemed to be overgrowing— maybe it was in his mind, but the scroungers were simply like a… storm. Even the sky above seemed to have darkened. But Ansel wasn’t alone. The guards had taken their tactic to shield themselves from the deadly lightning and then attack. The pause after every two lightning strikes was to their advantage. He focused back on the screeching bastards that swirled around the sky. With a battle cry that echoed across the battlefield, he lunged. He twisted his body, dodging a retaliatory lightning strike, and brought his spear up in a vicious thrust. The creature screeched in a death throe as he pierced through the ribcage. A lightning strike blasted through, but as he cut off the mana flow, it disrupted all around, burning the scrounger as it plummeted to the ground, a burning carcass. Ansel’s eyes momentarily got distracted by the smoke. Just then, a loud screech rang out next to him and he didn't have time to look back as a scrounger attacked. His heart thrummed in his ears as he barely shielded himself. The attack deflected to his shield and pushed him backwards. His upper arm gushed as a talon managed to tear it and blood gushed out of it. “Fuck! It hurts!” Ansel whispered to himself, but the worst part wasn’t even that. More screeches rang out and as he looked upwards towards a mountain range, he saw it disappearing due to the sheer number of darn scroungers coming their way. It was a whole wake of them that seemed to be very hungry. Blood rushed to his head as he looked back and forth between all the guards who were busy fighting. He tightened his hold on the shield as another attack of lightning came down on him. “W-We might not be able to—” Before he could complete the sentence, a deafening sound came from one of the carriages in the back. A torrent of fire— an imagery of a dragon erupted. The entire area shone in bright orange and yellow. The incandescent colours incinerated almost all the scroungers in its path. The heat was intense. Ansel’s skin burnt from its impact as all the guards covered themselves with the cracked and burnt shields. He didn't know if the flames in the shape of the dragon were controlled as they only consumed the scroungers. He slowly peeked up from the shield. The heat was still there, almost as if attempting to choke them with the burnt smell of the scroungers. Trees around were burnt, with leaves turned grey and smoke filling the sky, replacing the mad group of scroungers. He looked at the ground to see all of them dead. Their lethal eyes or the lightning-powered beaks were nowhere to be found; simple black blocks, all of them. Ansel slowly turned around to meet with Lord Arzan’s glare. The man stood tall as the monstrous flame slowly calmed down. Before anyone could even catch their breath, his voice came loud, "Move now, or more will come!" he yelled. "Harvest the bodies of those on the road." Ansel, panting and covered in blood, couldn't help but grin. He shook his head in admiration. Again, the thought slipped into his mind that his choice wasn't wrong. Lord Arzan was the man he was looking for and the only one strong enough to save his tribe from their potential doom. *** Quite the opposite of the chaos of the scroungers' attack, the interior of Kai's carriage was an oasis of calm. Here, Kai hunched over a small table, his brow furrowed in concentration. In his hands, a vial containing a vibrant blue liquid pulsed with an inner light. It was the Blursage extract he had added to a reagent which he managed to make before the journey. The blue liquid soon changed colours to a brick red as it swirled around. A satisfied smile spread across Kai's face. This was it. With this in his hand, he wouldn't be controlled by whatever tricks the tower used. He doubted they had advanced spells to get into his mind and even if they did, they wouldn't use it against him. At least, he was confident of that. Still, it was always a good thing to prepare, especially against what might be a group of Mages dealing with dead mana and having ways to use it to power themselves. His musings were interrupted by a sudden shout from outside the carriage. "We can see the capital's walls, Lord Arzan! We're almost there!" Kai glanced out the window, a wave of emotions washing over him. - Please keep supporting and liking the novel. If anyone wants to buy my patreon or join my discord server, here are the links.  Patreon for 15 chaps: /extra26 Discord: invite/nc3hVSCP2n