Five years before Ignis Summoning, Battle for Republic

Those who had fled with King Eshaq met with obstruction on the narrow trail arching over the waters of the Ceyhan River. Just as they thought they had left the echoes of sword and spear of Republic far behind and successfully escaped the battlefield, an incoming iron pierced through one rider's face. The rider's death cry as he tumbled from his horse preluded a way of sharp iron hailing down all at once with the terrible noise of a locust swarm taking flight. It was an ambush.

At either side of the Kingdom men and horses alike toppled like brittle stone pillars. Both king and general were hit as well, the iron piercing through their armor and digging into their flesh.

When the rain of iron ceased, not one single survivor remained in their vicinity. A lone rider spurred his horse over to face them. He bore not the arms of Republic not the kingdom. And yet it was something else entirely that seized the attention of the king and his general.

A silver mask. It covered the entire face but for narrow slits at the eyes and the mouth. And through the eye slits leaked a cold gleam.

In the light of day, both king and the general would have certainly guffawed at the sight. The silver mask seemed far too much like something out of a play, something impossible to imagine existing in reality.

But here under the dim gray veil of fog, where the very landscape seemed submerged in the darkness of a Gharibi ink painting, the mask seemed to freeze within itself the accumulated misfortune and calamity of the entire world.

"Abandoning your men, Eshaq? How shameless. And how very like you."

Fluent Zeira speak sounded through the mouth slit. The voice possessed a quality that caused a man's heart to grow chill.

"Flee, my liege! Let these old bones hold here..."

The general body pierced through with five spears of iron drew his sword from its scabbard and planted his horse between the king and the man of the silver mask.

An intense light emanated from the eyes of the silver mask, burning with the radiance of fury and hatred combined.

"Doddering old failure! Enough of your posturing!"

The masked man unleashed a thundering cry. His longsword, glittering white, arced toward the general's head in a single stroke. Even against an opponent both mortally wounded and advanced in age, his blade did not hold back, leaving not the slightest opening for the General, great Commander-in-chief of Kingdom, to counter. It was a breathtaking display of swordsmanship.

Eshaq watched on with deadened eyes as his faithful old retainer's body crumpled heavily to the ground. His sword arm did not move. Left with no further means of resistance, the king could only sit helplessly upon his saddle like a clay doll.

"Do not kill him."

The voice behind the silver mask trembled. Naturally, not from terror, but from a wave of barely suppressed passion.

"Do not kill him. For sixteen years I have waited for this day. How could I grant him such easy release?"

Five or six riders from the man's troop pulled King Eghaz from his mount.

"Who the hell are you?" Eghaz, wrapped and bound with thick thongs, whispered hoarsely.

"It is very like you, not to remember the person whose life you ruined many years ago."

Behind every word grated a noise like scraping metal. It was the sound of gnashing teeth — as if in that very action, the man of the silver mask could grind away the long endless days of bitter obscurity. He slowly removes his mask to reveal a face that the king recognizes. A face he has long forgotten about.

"Will you not welcome your son, King Eghaz!!"

He said with a grim look on his face as no response came from the King.

When he noticed the disquieted expressions of his men upon seeing him in such a state, he of the silver mask wordlessly turned his horse away. Those encircling the captive King Eghaz did not rejoice in their victory, and continued down the narrow trail to the opposite shore in gloomy silence.

Though Kahraman had fight hundreds of battles, It was the battle for Republic at Mert that still haunts him like a terrible nightmare.

-------Despite his protest, Kahraman had been reappointed as the Bodyguard of minister and protector of Mert.

That day, in the open space before the western gate of Mert directed towards the Empire, a grand book burning ceremony was held. A total of twelve million volumes had been designated to burn as "wicked heathen books"; the libraries had been entirely emptied. Standing before the texts piled mountain high and the crowd of spectators was the shouting Arch Priestess of the Republic. One particular knight with scholarly interests bravely — or perhaps rashly — raised a protest against the book burning.

"Even if you say they're heathen books, is it really a good idea to toss such precious texts into the fire without even examining them? Even if they are to be set aflame, shouldn't it be after enough time has been spent determining their value?"

"Blasphemer!"

Arch Priestess stamped her feet upon the ground.

"If what is recorded in these texts is in accordance with the holy scriptures of Goddess Meira, then the scriptures alone are sufficient for earthly mortals. Should they contradict the scriptures, then they are based on the trickery of evil demons and must be destroyed. No matter what, all should be thrown to the fire!"

"But to toss even medical texts into the fire...."

Receiving a severe strike to his mouth, the knight staggered back.

"One who reveres Meira from the bottom of her heart shall not be possessed by the demons of disease. One who is diseased, carrying the seeds of evil within her heart, shall receive divine retribution! Even if she is the leader of a nation..."

Directing a look full of poison at the minister sitting upon her distant throne, Arch priestess raised her voice anew.

"Even if she is the leader of a nation, when she gives rise to such wicked designs as giving such power to the heathen king's son, one so haughty shall surely be struck down by a divine staff formed from her own sickness. Repent and reform, oh sinful ones!"

Kahraman paled, and his sturdy body quivered. Not out of fear, but out of extreme displeasure. The minister Reyham, sitting on her throne beside her, was secretly satisfied. To her, this was an excellent opportunity to show the people of Mert who supported the Heathen Kings for last 70, the strength of Republic.

Arch Priestess raised his hand, and the mountain of texts was doused with oil before a torch was tossed in.

Kahraman decided to leave before the ceremony was completed. Requested permission from the minister, he left his post to wander the city.

The city, Mert, where Kahraman spent his childhood, once called the second capital of Keira felt under great depression when it was conquered by Republic three years ago. Since then only a shadow of its former glory remains. Filled with crimes and murders. This city has fallen to a depth it can't rise from. Now, this city serves only one purpose and one purpose alone for the Republic. A base. A base for its Future invasion into last heathen stronghold of Empire.

Even in times of chaos, there were some businesses that did not halt operations — brothels for instance, or gambling dens, or fences dealing in victory spoils and pillaged loot. And along with them, establishments offering a drink with conversation. Naturally, such places were filled with irresponsible rumors, and in fact, the number of reports flying around probably exceeded the number of gathered people.

As he was about to enter a tavern. A man tottered out from there. A man no bigger than Kahraman itself, colliding into Kahraman's shoulder in an attempt to step aside him. He was no doubt kicked out of the tavern.

The man glanced at Kahraman face from beneath his hood that hardly hides his muddy face. The man immediately apologized and turned away.

The peasant like this were a common sighting in this area of the republic or maybe a beggar that just wanted some food. Best Kahraman can do was ignore and be on his way.

"OYE!!"

Suddenly a voice echoed to the empty streets of Mert supposedly calling out Kahraman. Kahraman couldn't ignore and turn back to find the person who was calling out to him in such an informal tone.

"Can you offer a bunch of warm clothes to a merchant like me?"

The man from before now standing upright with his face completely revealed stare back at the glaring Kahraman. A merchant acting all mighty before a General.

Kahraman can only laugh at his vigor.

"ohuh! So you desire some warm clothes. May I have the honor of knowing why a merchant like you desire warm clothes?"

"Actually, we were on our way to Al-Gharib when suddenly we were asked to go to the Shallow Kingdom because of an Empire expedition team so we are in a severe need for warm clothes to withstand southern cold."

Empire expedition in the region between Al-Gharib and Shallow Kingdoms. It was news to Kahraman as it now seems like Republic wasn't the only one preparing for a war. Empire had also mobilized. A piece of news that had made the rudeness of the man completely ignorable.

"Hmm, Empire in Lost Forest. That news to me."

Kahraman couldn't sense any lie from him but something strange caught his interest.

His Guch wasn't in his stomach rather in his right chest. An abnormality that hadn't been seen before.

"So, how many clothes do you need?"

The man immediately glittered with joy. It was to be expected. It had been difficult to find clothes in these chaotic times.

"Only three, For the women. We man can withstand cold. I am mostly concern about women. You know how Goddess Meira asked us to protect them so I wanted to make sure that they don't feel uneasiness during the tour."

These words showed that man as a devout follower of Meira and Kahraman couldn't ignore one.

---But this case was special, his tone doesn't have devotion rather there was a cunning edge to his words. They could had confused anyone but not Kahraman. Surrounded by enemies in Republic court, he had learned to be wary of such actions.

"Sorry! I don't deal in clothes so I don't have any clothes for women but I appreciate your devotion."

"Umm! Can't you even lend us some of your old clothes? It will be a great help."

"No! I again apologize but as East isn't a cool place, we don't have much warm cloth for you. Maybe you should check in the morning. Some shops may be open then."

"Tsk!"

With a click of the tongue emphasizing his disappointment, he turned around and start walking away. Kahraman stood there and look at his back which was slowly moving away from him. This was an ordinary meeting but for some reason, Kahraman couldn't just ignore this feeling of unease in his heart. He wasn't sure whether he should run after him or just ignore him.

At last Kahraman decided to ignore him and head into the tavern.

"Welcome!"

---- "Where's that damned Kahraman!" roared Minister Reyham, her face contorting with fury. She has always brimmed with confidence. It had always been the same but the incidents of the night had forced her to lose hers.

Beside her, one of her knelt assistance rose her head. She had been in charge of all the information and witnesses record regarding the incidents.

"The lord protector hadn't been seen for quite some time. We have been searching for him but-"

"When you find him bring him to me or else don't bother to show yourself."

"....At your will!"

Cringing at the minister's fury, the advisor immediately makes her escape. As Reyham watched the advisor leave, she let out a low, frustrated groan. The night hadn't been peaceful at all for her. Once the book burning ceremony was over, a group of rebels decided to take revenge and bunch of robbery were committed throughout the city mainly targetting military storehouse. Military ration and uniform were among the things that were stolen.

Ever since her appointment as the minister, She had pushed her warmonger attitude and promoted the assemblage of ton load weapons and import of more advanced weapons from the land to the East of the Zeira.

All other things stolen were considered a low priority and wouldn't cause much panic for her but unfortunately, a load of weapons was stolen along with some experimental weapons.

"That bastard Kahraman. Has he betrayed us? I heard some guards say that No one was spotted entering or leaving warehouses. Only Kahraman is capable of that."

The Arch priestess who had been busy with her prayer till now added. Kahraman absence after Book burning ceremony has already created doubt in Minister mind.

"We all know he betrayed his father in the name of the republic but he still has his blood. Maybe, he has decided to betray us after all. Once a traitor is always a traitor."

"Maam!" The assistant from before opened the door and bowed down."Kahraman has returned and he brings good news."

"Let him in!"

"Tsk!"

Arch priestess realizing that her assumption was wrong turned back and return to her prayers while Kahraman entered the room followed behind him soldier carrying bags full of weapons.

"Forgive me! I didn't get the chance to report as I was busy preparing them. May minister find in his heart to forgive me!"

"Hmm!" Minister rose up from her throne-like chair and walked to one of the soldiers. She took out one of the swords and start inspecting it.

"Fascinating! These are an exact copy of the one that got stolen! Kahraman, How many are there?"

"One Million or near it, Minister!"

"And you created all this with your creation magic! Kahraman, You truly amaze me."

The creation magic, the magic that allows you to create anything if you have required knowledge, is the gift bestowed by Goddess on the people that live East to the lost Forest. It had always been a strength that Easterners were so proud of but this strength came with a huge prize. It had been difficult to produce even a single weapon without sacrificing a large amount of Guch, the energy required for magic.

Many people could use it only once or twice before turning to stone but it was different for Kahraman as he had been using it for everyday things since childhood without depleting his Guch.

"But what about the weapons from the east? Did you create them as well?"

Minister asked while looking down into the bag with a somewhat impressed look. She hadn't even created a single thing in her life and the fact that Kahraman had created millions of weapon truly fascinated her.

"I couldn't create them but I try to compensate for it by making extra magical weapons, may minister found in her heart to forgive me!"

"Don't worry, We can always import more......Kahraman for this....., you can take leave for the rest of day. Rest and recover your Guch. We will talk tomorrow!"

"Thanks, Minister."

As Kahraman said this, he looked towards the arch-priestess who was throwing stingy glances at him all this time and give her slight smile before turning back to leave the room as soldier followed him with their bags.

Kahraman may have solved the problem of weapon shortage for upcoming war but the thieves still remain at large and Kahraman couldn't rest until thieves were punished. So he decided to spent his day off chasing off behind thieves that were no longer there