Hurb approaches and I retreat to maintain the distance between us and keep his sword arm in sight. I take advantage of my longer reach to throw an attack from afar.

He tries to intercept and redirect my attack to step inside my range but the weight behind my strike destabilizes him. Hurb stumbles and hurriedly pulls away before I can take advantage.

“We said no construct!” The mercenary protests.

“I’m not using one.” And I’m holding back. I look down at my left arm with a pensive frown behind my helmet.

“Damn, you’re strong.” He grumbles.

I launch my hammer in a swing but release my right hand’s grip on the handle at the last moment to extend the range of the blow. Hurb avoids the weapon’s path entirely but rushes in behind the hammer as soon as its head goes past him.

Surprised, I fail to redirect my strike by making it spin around myself. I am forced to forcefully pull the weapon back to myself, straining my muscles in the process.

I barely manage to block Hurb’s quick slash with the handle. He doesn’t let me go, though, and keeps attacking with a flurry of furious blows that give me no time to gather myself and counter him.

“Yea, take that!” Brie yells out from the sides.

I hear the clink sounds of my chain-mail when it blocks a few sword strikes. I groan under my helmet and throw a swift attack with the spike at the end of my hammer’s handle.

Hurb backs away to avoid it and I take the chance to widen the distance between us. I take a few deep breaths before making my hammer slash the air in front of me. I control the trajectory in such a way that the weapon spins around my back and launches into another strike right behind the first and most importantly without pausing.

Hurb hesitates to step inside the range of those attacks and I take advantage of that to find my stride. I take a half-step forward while maintaining my hammer’s circling arc around me.

The mercenary leader pulls away, no doubt sensing that the slow speed of the movements is a bait on my part. I make another half-step towards him and he retreats once more.

“Not even going to try?” I taunt.

“I don’t feel it’s worth the risk during a spar.” Hurb replies calmly.

“Hurb wins, right?” Lilib asks the small crowd around her.

I stop spinning the hammer around me and deposit the head on the ground. My left leg definitely feels more strained than my right one. I relied on my new limb’s strength quite a bit despite holding back and the corresponding support leg suffered for it.

“I did not win, no.” Hurb shakes his head. “I landed a few light strikes but it’s impossible to know how this would have gone if we used constructs. Besides, this was a friendly bout.”

“How gracious.” I laugh. “I would have claimed victory in your place.” I add with a sloppy humorous bow.

“That weapon is scary, I’ve seen Nobles use two-handed weapons before and it’s no joke.” Jacub speaks up.

“Are you sure they’ll let you enter the castle with that?” Hastia asks.

“It shouldn’t be an issue.” Celyz answers. “Her equipment and helmet should make them think that Elizabeth is a Noble and our army be pursuing you so you’ll only need to join the peasants already evacuating the area to avoid suspicion. They won’t refuse entry to a group of swordsmen while there is an army on their doorstep. Just be ready for some questioning once inside but if you agree to help them defend the castle walls, they won’t look too deep in your stories.”

“I think it would be preferable if we arrive from different directions and separate once inside. We will all feel more comfortable if we are isolated from each other in case some of us are caught. Those captured won’t be able to give everyone else up if they don’t even know where the other groups are.”

“That sounds like a good plan. How will we coordinate?” Hurb asks.

“We can set a place and date for each group’s leader to meet.” I reply. “What would be a discreet meeting spot that you find in every castle?”

“Temple, water wells, market plaza… All those places will be frequented by too many people during the day and be heavily guarded at night. We could decide to meet along one of the walls at sundown and walk together, it would be less suspicious than a group of three isolating themselves in one place to talk.” Hurb tells me.

“Then we’ll meet along the southern wall, it should be less guarded since it faces the sea.” I decide. “Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Hurb nods and I turn to Brie.

“It makes sense.” She reluctantly admits.

The groups split up, by couple I notice, and take out some sleeping mats from their backpacks. I make my way to a wall and slip my chain-mail off before laying down on the tunnel’s hard ground.

I close my eyes but I start hearing sounds coming from the various couples before I can fall asleep. Lovemaking noises that bring me back to when she’d made me dance for her and then kissed my fingers with promises of a future.

I feel a twinge of pain in my chest and bury my ears between my elbows, clenching my eyelids even more tightly shut. I was better off before, alone. I’ve had a taste of her warmth, lost it, and now I just can’t shake this gaping void that I feel in my heart. I’ll get her back for this.

— — —

I startle wide awake when I hear sounds of people moving nearby. I take hold of my chain-mail and put it on before getting on my feet to stretch my back. The mercenaries and bandits are folding camp to get ready to depart. I pick up my hammer and join Celyz to wait for them.

We depart in silence once we’re all ready, flow torches lighting the path ahead of us. I spend the first half of the morning training the hardening construct for my left arm to keep the memory of it fresh. I keep going until I’m confident I won’t forget the details of assembling it.

After progressing through the tunnel for a long while, daylight appears in the distance, the end of the tunnel. The bright light piercing the darkness makes me think of the future and what I can do to influence the war through Celyz.

If I can get a message to the Templar Order and tell them that Caeviel used the University’s pheromone vials to kidnap a Princess, they should be able to intervene and force a negotiation if I tell them it has a good chance to succeed.

The Empire won’t choose to engage in a drawn-out war if there is an alternative, there are only so many phalanxes to deploy along its wide borders.

I should focus on what we’re doing next though, I need to find someone trustworthy before thinking about the content of the message and who to send it to.

I start making my hammer swing around myself as I walk, testing to find the most efficient way to change the angle of my attacks from high to low. I don’t intend to start slaughtering peasants and guards so I need to find a way to just break legs or arms rather than rib cages.

The training makes me slow down and I quickly end up at the tail end of the group, I accelerate my pace once in a while to keep up with them. I catch Brie at the corner of my field of vision when she turns around to sneer at my exercises.

I shouldn’t have held back my strength as much as I did last night. They seem to be taking me lightly because of my lack of experience and formal knowledge on combat.

Even without the advantage of my left arm, I’ve worked in the fields my whole life so I’m confident in my strength. There is a reason why Nobility forbids teaching the lion strike to civilians, us peasants don’t train to fight but we’re either physically fit or we starve.

Farming tools make good weapons or Nobles wouldn’t make their subjects bring them to use when drafted. Or they’re too greedy and afraid to furnish them. Unfortunately, I’ll soon find out which one it is. Could be both.

We come out of the tunnel at noon. The exit is in the middle of a mountainous forest. There is already a worker waiting for us outside with a basket of food.

The group stops to eat and I devour another five bowls of gruel by myself. How am I going to pay for the ludicrous amount of food I need from now on?

“Are you going to provide me with some funds?” I ask Celyz.

“I’ll give you a sum to cover your costs, yes.” She replies.

“How will we communicate with your Rykz from inside the castle walls.”

“That’s for you and Fenyz to figure out, I will be with a different detachment of our army.”

“Watching the road to Meria?” I make a wild guess.

“Making sure that the castle remains isolated from reinforcements, yes.” Celyz nods. “We should arrive at the village tomorrow morning.”

As soon as everyone is done eating, we start making our way through the forest. Our traveling speed slows down a lot now that we’ve exited the relatively straight and flat Rykz tunnels.

The rocky terrain makes it almost impossible for me to both walk and train with my hammer so I decide to exercise the lion strike and hardening construct.

I don’t activate them so it burns very little flow to assemble them over and over again. The sun starts going down so we stop to camp behind a small cliff that will protect us from the weather.

I observe the mercenaries and bandit setup their flow torch fire, waiting for them to be done so I can ask Hurb to spar with me while they cook.

“Are you up to exercising a little tonight?” I speak up.

“Of course, are you sure you wouldn’t rather use a sword? This thing is…” Hurb shivers.

“There is little point to training with a weapon I won’t use.” I refuse. “But I’ll use the back of the hammer so you can’t get cut.”

We take position facing each other inside the circle of light around their fire. I turn the hammer around in my hands and start the spar by throwing a sweeping attack towards his feet.

I’d expected him to back away or jump to avoid it, but Hurb surprises me. He decides to hop forward over it to engage me in close combat. He lands three slashes on my chain-mail before I can bring my weapon back to block.

“Well, fuck. I thought that was a good attack but it leaves me wide open.” I grumble.

“It’s not that bad actually.” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have been able to do that if you aimed at my thighs or knees instead of my ankles.”

“Thanks.” I tell him sincerely but once my voice goes through the helmet, the sound of the tone that reaches my ears is cold. “I mean it.” I add and he nods.

We exchange several blows over the next tens of minutes and I learn quite a bit by observing his footwork. I tend to remain somewhat stationary, only moving to close the distance for an attack or to retreat.

My straightforward movements cannot even begin to compare to the mercenary who is so comfortable and mobile on his feet that he even uses them to make feints.

Hurb baits me into attacking several times by simply deposing the tip of his toes on the ground and pretending to shift his weight on the same leg, making me think wrongly that he won’t be able to avoid my next blow.

After I get tricked for the third time, I decide to get a bit more serious about it. I stop holding back and use my full strength to swing my hammer in the air between us.

The whoosh sound that accompanies my attack makes me grin up to my ears. I roll my shoulders to stretch and give Hurb some time to realize that I’m going to be more serious about this.

The mercenary tenses and shifts his stance into a more defensive one. I swing the hammer sideways, but this time I aim at his sword. Hurb hurriedly pulls his weapon away from the path of my strike.

I don’t stop and keep moving forward while making the hammer circle around my back with a quick play of hands. I see him hesitate to take the opening for a second but Hurb decides to retreat.

It doesn’t surprise me since my speed is incomparable to what it was a minute ago when he could slip a slash inside my guard without breaking a sweat. The hammer makes another pass in the air between us.

The mercenary has more confidence in his timing this time and he closes in on me while my weapon is behind my back. I take a trick from his book and also move forward, putting us so close together that neither of us can really attack the other.

I use my strength to forcefully stop my hammer’s momentum and pass it behind Hurb’s back before he can move away. I receive the other end of the weapon in my left hand, imprisoning the mercenary between the handle and my torso.

“I concede.” Hurb immediately speaks up.

“What?” Brie blurts out, surprised.

“I’m not going to test how monstrously strong she is with my back on the line.” He snaps back at the bandit, visibly vexed to have lost.

“Well done.” Hastia and Jacub both compliment me.

“It’s a trick my brother used on me when we were young. I don’t think it’ll work twice on you, Hurb.” I try to make a casual shrug after I release him. Good thing my helmet is deforming my voice and concealing my smug smile.

“It was a well-earned victory, Elizabeth Vil.” Hurb makes a short bow and walks away to sit down next to Lilib who welcomes him by slipping her arm around his waist.

“Have a good meal, I’ll see you all tomorrow.” I tell them before walking away.

Celyz hands me a basket of food. The worker must have arrived while I was beating the mercenary. I swiftly devour my portion and make my way in the forest.

I keep going until I am out of hearing distance and take the chain-mail off my back, I drop it at the base of a tree and make a sigh of relief. I lay on a spread of moss and close my eyes.

— — —

I awaken better rested than the night before thanks to the softer forest floor and the lack of night noises to disturb my sleep. I slip the chain-mail back on and walk back to the camp.

I find them all ready to go and we depart as soon as I rejoin the group. After a few hours of walk, we come across a path running between the trees. Celyz engages on it without hesitating and we follow her lead.

During the next couple of hours, we cross paths with two patrols of twelve scouts each. The mercenaries tense each time but it doesn’t seem to bother the bandits as they barely glance at the Rykz.

We go by a log house a distance away in the woods and Celyz stops in front of the small path leading to it.

“According to what I was told, this should be the huntsman’s house.” She tells me when I approach her.

“What’s his name?” I ask.

“I don’t know, my sister didn’t ask.”

“Really?” I mutter. “Should I go see him, or do you plan to go yourself?”

“Go. Meet us with him at the village’s tavern at noon, in an hour.”

“I’m probably going to be late.” I warn her.

“Then I won’t wait. I need to get up to speed with what’s happening so come and find me later.” Celyz turns around and starts walking away.

The human’s surprise at her sudden departure brings a smile to my face. I start making my way on the path towards the log house. As I near the heavy oak front door, I start hearing sounds of children playing and a mother desperately trying to regain control of the situation.

I grin a little, remembering how my brother and I used to make our parents go crazy. Poor woman, if I go by voices, there are at least three children inside.

I don’t waste time and knock, might as well provide her with a break. As I expected, the noises inside all stop at the sound of my fist hitting the door’s wood.

I hear heavy steps approach and when it opens, there a large man standing on the threshold. He’s… wow. He’s almost twice my size! His face is covered by a large black beard and he’s wearing a soft leather jacket that has pockets all over.

“Hi.” I tell him while deposing my hammer to the ground in a non-threatening manner. “I’m Elizabeth Vil.”

“Very funny.” He groans in a deep voice.

“No, really. My parents had a sense of humor.” Not a complete lie.

“I’m Ulf.” He grunts, looking up and down my body with suspicion.

I take my helmet off in a show of trust and his expression softens.

“You a Lady?” He asks.

“No. I’m here on behalf of the Rykz.” I tell him directly.

“I guessed as much.”

“Mind if I enter, or should we take a walk outside?” I smile to show that I won’t take offense if he refuses to let me in his house.

“Come in and be careful about the mess the kids left.” Ulf steps away to let me through.

I walk in and find four kids staring at me with wide eyes. The oldest boy is infuriatingly as tall as me despite looking no older than thirteen. The girl is a head smaller than me but looks ten. The other two are young twins, a girl and a boy of about three years old.

“Are you my age?” The eldest asks.

“I turned eighteen sometime last week.” I reply shortly.

“Don’t be rude and clean up the mess!” A woman shouts out from a corner of the main room.

I turn towards the voice and find these kid’s very, very pregnant mother. Up to her eyes even. She’s almost as big as her husband! I note, baffled. The woman is sitting down in a rocking chair and sewing the rips in a pair of pants.