Borjan

As they made their way across the courtyard to Raione she slowly stood up and dusted off her robes.

“You two took your damn time,” she complained and took the potions from Kaltmund’s hands.

“Yeah, sorry about that, me and Kaltmund had to take on debt to buy everything,” admitted Eranor with a bit of shame.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she exclaimed before snickering.

“Why are you laughing Rai?” he demanded.

“You guys got ripped off. I bought a bunch of weapon repair equipment, placed some orders for new robes, and order a bunch of food for us to collect later. All that and I still have quarts left,” she said with a smug smile.

“What? You got to be kidding me. How is that even possible? What low-quality goods did you even get?" he accused.

“Eranor, it’s not my fault the two of you are complete blockheads,” she jabbed before laughing out loud. Then a shriek erupted from the crowd. A man with a knife drawn charged straight for Raione.

“For Guthrum!” he cried. Raione’s laughing stopped and her face hardened. In the blink of an eye, she spun and landed a roundhouse kick square across his face. The man tumbled hard to the ground.

“Guthrum huh? I doubt that heavily,” she growled and walked slowly to the now crawling assailant.

“Rai don’t do anything rash,” interjected Kaltmund from the side.

“Don’t worry Kal. I’m just going to mutilate this worthless wretch,” she declared, and the outline of her body turned a faint blue. She was flaring her aura the same as Eranor did earlier. To the two other heroes, her flair was nothing more than a faint blue distortion on her outlines. But the larger the skill and the level gap between those viewing, the more intense this becomes. To the now stunned and staring audience, it would seem blue flames were licking the air around her.

“A hero? No, please. Those kids never told me you were a hero. They said you were mercenaries,” pleaded the thug.

“Kids? I thought you did this for Guthrum,” she said with a true maniacal cackle as she inched closer. “Now listen carefully. You turn around and run for your life. You keep running until your feet are bleeding. You keep pushing until you collapse from exhaustion. Only then will you be far enough from me that I won’t turn you into an unidentifiable corpse,” she threatened and gave him a swift kick in his teeth. The thug immediately turned tail and crashed his way through the crowd. She paused and watched at the thug disappear into the distance before turning around.

“You going to drop your flair?” asked Eranor.

“No, I’m going straight to that chapel and he’s going to know what he’s in store for when we walk in,” she declared and walked past the two of them.

“Guess we’ve got no choice ay Kal?” he asked and flared his own aura. The crowd gasped at the sudden eruption of another aura.

“I guess we don’t. Poor Borjan, he doesn’t know what kind of animal he’s unleashed,” he sighed and soon he was also outlined in blue. As the three of them made their way to the chapel, the crowds divided in front of them. Not a single vendor attempted his luck.

“It looks like this is what we should’ve done since the start,” observed Kaltmund as the two of them tried to keep up to the enraged Raione.

“Sending a common thug after me? Who does he think I am? I’m a God damn hero and he sends a thug? He will regret that. Next time he’ll send an army,” she mumbled to herself as she spearheaded the group. “Who am I kidding. There won’t be a next time. When I’m done this guy won’t be able walk or write, let alone send someone after.”

“Rai, don’t you think we’re being a bit rash here. I mean we have no concrete evidence against this guy. Also, he’s in a chapel. We can’t exactly charge in and attack,” said Kaltmund.

“Kal, when we walk in, he’ll know exactly why we’re there. No doubt about it,” she concluded the conversation without it even starting.

“It’s pointless Kal. You know when she gets like this, we just need to make sure it doesn’t escalate too quick. Besides, I doubt she’ll go in axes swinging,” he whispered to him as not to let Raione hear them.

“I know, she may be hot-headed, but she isn’t a fool. She’ll most likely accuse him and force him into being the first one to attack. We need to be sure to stop this before it gets too messy,” he replied and summoned his staff as they approached the chapel.

“Well let’s hope for the best I guess,” he sighed and put his hand on his sword.

The chapel inside was simplistic but grand. There were two rows of pews with mosaic running on the side of the building. At the forefront of the chapel was a stage with an altar in the middle. Behind it were three large stained-glass windows. It was quiet inside. Only three or four priests mopping the floor. That is until the massive white doors were kicked open by Raione. It crashed into the sides of the chapel and rebounded. Kaltmund and Eranor were quick to react and caught these doors from slamming shut. A few curious townspeople spun around to see what the commotion was about. All that they saw were two you men closing the chapel doors.

“Where’s the head priest responsible for training Borjan,” shouted Raione as she made her way down the aisle.

“Excuse me miss. This is a place of worship. I must ask you to apologise for,” he said before Raione’s rage got the better of her.

“Are deaf and stupid? I asked you a question priest. Now answer me before I really lose my temper,” she threatened and came close up to the startled priest.

“Young lady, have you any idea who you’re speaking too,” he exclaimed before he seemed to be struck silent by fear. The blue outline around Raione had turned a faint red.

“Father please,” interrupted Kaltmund as he came between Raione and the priest. “This woman has been done a great injustice by Borjan and would like to ask him some questions regarding it.”

“No, she does not aim to ask any question. I just saw that murderous intent. That red aura burned bright. I can’t allow my pupil to come face to face with this killer,” he exclaimed and stumbled back against the stage.

“Father, please. You see our aura’s, we are heroes. Me and my friend here,” he said and indicated to Eranor who now also stood in front of Raione, “will keep the peace. We will not be the first to attack neither shall we tolerate her enticing Borjan. All we ask is that we speak to him.” The priest finally took his eyes from Raione and looked at the calm and stern face of Kaltmund.

“Very well if a priest of our own church such as yourself accompanies her. I’ll allow her to ask him the question. Borjan is currently in the basement training room,” he said and seemed to regain his composure. “I beg you to keep her from doing anything rash brother.”

“The Holy Father has guided me on a path of enforcing peace. Know I won’t tolerate any conflict that can be avoided. Peace be with you,” he greeted before turning to follow Raione and Eranor down the stairs to the basement.

Eranor was hot on Raione’s heels. He knew the second she made her murderous intent know, that he now had to be on high alert. It has been quite a long time since she’s been this upset. That was the very fact that put him on high alert. Why would she be this upset about a random thug attacking her? It made no sense, but now was not the time to ask questions. He decided it would be best to not go completely blind into this basement. He focused his sense and suddenly the world became crisper. The dim torchlight of the staircase grew bright as day. Their boots on the stone floors turned from tapping to a loud stomp. He focused his senses down the stairs and into the basement. He smelled sweat, he heard bare feet slapping on stone. The sound of something slicing through the air. Yet the sound he had to hear before. He focused even harder. The sound, there was a reason he heard it before. It was a blade slicing through the air. He also heard the expert breathing patterns, the strange feet work and the unrelenting speed that this sword moved at. Then a few steps before entering the sword disappeared and was replaced by something else, but just as relentless.

They entered through a small steel door. The training room was a massive rectangular stone cellar. It had four stone pillars on each of the long sides and two drawers on the furthest short side. A small archway on the nearest small wall led to a washroom. Eranor dulled his senses and the bright room turned dim in comparison. It was damp and hot inside. Yet in the centre stood a young man. He had a thick long brown coat on with a white hood, a backpack, extremely oversized pants and was barefoot. To keep the oversized pants legs from stretching beyond his feet, they were tied with rope to his ankles. This made the pants legs bundle up all the way from his ankles to his knees. The man stopped his training and took a relaxed stance. Eranor immediately stopped flaring his aura and Kaltmund, who just joined them, did the same. Raione slowly made her way to the opposite end of the training room.

“What do you want?” he asked over his shoulder with a deep voice. One that did not match his short but stocky figure.

“We know about your little plan with Guthrum,” stated Raione, her aura still flaring.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said before being cut off.

“Enough of these lies. The kids attacking people in the alleyway, the thug with the knife. They all told us about your plan,” she barked. He stood silently before slowly turning. Eranor watched him carefully, just to make sure he wasn’t making any sudden moves. When Borjan turned around, he revealed that underneath the coat he wore a vest made of thick rope. To call it a vest was a stretch. It was rope as thick as a child’s forearm wrapped around his body in a vest like fashion. Yet what confused Eranor was the lack of a weapon. No sword, knife, halberd, or anything.

“You dare interrupt my training and accuse me of having any acquaintance with such deplorable people. It seems you’ve got the wrong man. Now leave before I break you,” he warned.

“How about you throwback that hood. Let me see the face of the biggest scumbag in the city,” she hissed. He paused again and slowly lifted his hands. He threw back the hood and revealed thick black hair and an extremely tanned face. His skin was darker than that of an almond.

“Now leave, I don’t want to mop your blood from the floor,” he warned before squinting. “Ah, so you are a hero. Flaring your aura even.” Raione’s bit down on her teeth.

“Yeah, we are heroes,” she answered.

“Pathetic heroes,” he said with a smile creeping on his face, “Can’t believe your aura is so puny. I couldn’t see it at first, I can’t even see your friends’. So, this is what passes the entry trails these days,” he mocked and grinned.

“We are what heroes look like, but all I see when I look at you. Is a murderer,” she retorted with a wolfish grin. His entire demeanour shifted immediately. His grin turned into a scowl.

“Leave now or die,” he warned for a final time. Raione kept her smile and gave a slight forced chuckle. Her hands slowly undid her robes.

“I didn’t quite get that murderer. Could you say that again?” she asked threw her robe one side.

“You heard me,” he growled and made fists.

“Raione stop, I promised the priest we wouldn’t resort to violence. We got what we came for. He didn’t deny anything and threatened us with murder. It’s more than enough to have him inspected,” Kaltmund tried to deescalate the situation.

“Kal, we’re past that point. This mongrel just insulted us, threatened us and now. He challenges us. No way am I letting some murderers get away with idle threats,” she said and slowly placed her hands on her axes.

“Listen to your friend. He’s got the right idea. Runaway,” he egged her on and took a fixed martial arts stance.

“I’m going to enjoy carving a piece off you,” she said and raised her axes and took her stance.

“Raione please, we don’t have to do this,” continued Kaltmund. Yet his attention was drawn by Eranor drawing his sword and taking his stance as well.

“Kal. We’ve got an opportunity to stop this guy. Put an end to all the attacks and theft he’s caused. This is what heroes do,” he said with earnest. Kaltmund sighed and turned around to face Borjan.

“It’s three against one. Surrender now and your punishment won’t be as harsh,” said Kaltmund in a last ditched effort to derail the fight.

“I’m more than confident that I can take on all three of you,” he said.

“I can’t wait to spill your blood,” threatened Raione with her wolfish grin still on her face.

“Then what are we waiting for,” he said and launched forward.

Raione stepped to the side as his fist flew past her head. A rush of air followed. Eranor stepped forward and gave an overhead slash. Raione saw his attack. She immediately spun and swung her axe at him. Borjan pulled his fist back and shot it back towards Eranor’s sword with incredible speed, while his other waited for Raione’s axe. In one move he caught both strikes by the edges of their weapons, a hair width from making contact. He smiled as both Eranor and Raione watched stunned at him holding their weapons like toys.

“Repulse,” said Kaltmund casually as he sent Borjan flying. “He’s a martial art expert you two, attacking with reckless abandon won’t work. We have to work together.”

“A mage, how cowardly,” declared Borjan and took his stance again.

“Rai,” said Eranor, “us two are going to switch out our attacks while Kal provides support.” Raione nodded and Kaltmund gave a thumbs up. With that said the trio were the ones who shot forwards this time. Borjan, however, smiled as they came charging in. Raione came in with rapid slashes of her axes. Borjan slipped each blow, but as he stepped back to dodge each of her strikes. Eranor sprang from behind. He, however, seemed to never lose track of him. He evaded Raione’s attack and landed a hard kick to her gut. Then he switched to evading Eranor’s assault in an instant. It was almost effortless for him to handle the attacks of the two heroes. As the three of them continued with their melee, Kaltmund kept watching. When he saw a gap, he sent ice spikes flying. As the ice shot through the air Borjan leapt into the air and spun. Somehow each of the spikes flew past him without landing once. Eranor backed off to avoid being pierced by the spikes that flew past and crashed into the wall.

“This guy is on a whole other level, how is this even possible?” thought Kaltmund and prepared his next spell. Raione re-entered the fray but her fired up trait had taken effect. She unleashed a flurry of axes swings that even Borjan couldn’t dodge. His arms and legs took repeated small cuts from Raione. She set free a rage-filled scream and began landing massive blows on his arms, but Borjan seemed unfazed. He would deliberately block with his forearms or legs. As she stopped her scream to draw breath, Borjan pounced. He landed a firm palm strike to her throat. He swept her leg and rammed his fist into her stomach. The impact was so great that she was sent crashing against a pillar.

“Burst and release,” cried Kaltmund as he unleashed a double spell. Not only was a wave of frost sent towards Borjan, but also an ice spike shower. Borjan began to smash the ice spike with his bare hands. It seemed as if he was an expert boxer jabbing at an opponent. He could however only block so many and was shredded by those he missed. Eranor then rushed in from the side. Borjan spun around to face him, forgetting about the wave of ice. As Eranor leapt high, Borjan’s entire body was encrusted by ice. His face was frozen in perpetual shock. Eranor unleashed a powerful scream and slashed.

The ice shattered. The tip of Eranor’s sword slicing into the cheek of Borjan. He powered through with his slash. Borjan however, had exploded free at the last moment and avoided a fatal blow. The slash went across the side of his turned face. Past his chest and found his leg, where it slashed clean across. Eranor’s feet were a few breaths away from touching the floor when he was sent flying by a roundhouse kick. He crashed into the dresser and smashed it to pieces. The force behind his kick felt as if a runaway wagon had struck him. He winced as he got to his feet and saw that Raione and Kaltmund were just as stunned that Borjan was still alive. He couldn’t understand how another level one hero could be this powerful.

“Impressive. If I had known you three were this good, I would have taken this seriously from the beginning,” he said and cast aside the thick coat. He revealed his body to not be broad at all. It was wiry and slim. His body definition was unbelievable, every muscle could be seen moving individually. He bent over and began to undo the ropes tied to his ankles. Raione however immediately made her move.

“Die now scum,” she cried and charged forward. Borjan’s hands quickly shot behind his back. As she came closer, he swung his arm over his shoulder. The rope vest suddenly began to unwind, and a rope made tentacle followed the path of his arm swing. It whipped her clean across the face. She was sent spinning to the side. As she fell stunned to the side, the rope recoiled, and his vest was neatly remade.

“Raione,” cried Kaltmund and rushed to her aid while Eranor stumbled to his feet. He glanced with blurry vision at him.

“Not nice of you. I was still getting ready,” he mocked her and returned his attention to undoing the ankle rope. He then undid his rope belt and down his pants went. Underneath he wore leather pteruges. The thick material pants were kicked one side. A sneer spread across his face as he rolled his shoulder. Eranor made his way to Raione and Kaltmund, he seemed to have recovered from the blow he was dealt. When he examined the clothes that Borjan discarded he realised that they were training gear. Thick, heavy restrictive clothes making training that little bit harder.

“Looks like that was just a warm-up,” he said as the other two rose to their feet.

“Apparently so. We need a new plan of approach, if we attack with our former plan we’ll be beaten for sure,” said Raione as she let go of her side.

“What do you mean? We got some exceptionally good strikes in on him,” said Kaltmund.

“Look again Kal,” said Raione and pointed to the now in full stretch Borjan. Kaltmund could not believe his eyes. All the spots where they struck him were either scratch marks or shallow cuts. Two, however, stood out. That was the one Eranor landed on his cheek and leg. They were deep and blood dripped from the wounds.

“Impossible, how could he not have at least ten deep gashes across his body?” stammered Kaltmund. Borjan’s ears perked up at the question.

“Simple, I’m a pugilist and in my training, I focused on hardening my skin. Both physically and magically. I’m basically wearing armour all the time,” he remarked and finished his stretches, “Now finish the planning for your little attack, I grow impatient.”

“Cocky bastard,” growled Raione. She turned to Eranor who seemed to have thought of an idea.

“I’ve got an idea but it’s a little bit of a gamble,” he said.

“Rupture?” asked Kaltmund.

“Rupture,” nodded Eranor, “Rai, we’re both going to attack him. Not switching but rather saving each other’s skin. You handle him if he comes close and if he keeps his distance and uses those ropes, I’ll step in.” The three of them nodded.

As they turned to face Borjan, one of his ropes shot forwards. Eranor used the side of his blade and blocked it. Raione kept behind Eranor while Kaltmund immediately began his chanting. Eranor slowly made his way to Borjan while blocking the ropes.

“So, you’re planning to remain on the defence. Well then, I guess if Terence will not come to the molehill. The molehill will come to Terence,” he said calmly and recalled his ropes. He burst out in a dash towards the two, and Raione finally stepped out from behind Eranor, seizing her moment to strike. She slashed her axe at the striking hand of Borjan. Eranor, however, saw the grin reappear on the side of his face.

Raione’s axe came to a standstill against the fist of Borjan. His sneer, however, was replaced by a frown. Blood started to drip from where his fist and the axe met. He unleashed a scream and began to attack Raione with everything he had. He would receive the occasional axe slash, but it seemed to rebound off his skin, leaving only a small scratch. Raione would block most of his attacks but the stray fist or palm strike would land true. Eranor, however, came in from the other side to offer support and to take the brunt of the assault if Raione was staggered. Borjan was quicker and stronger than before. His movements were precise and the force behind each strike was immense. The other two however learned how to use their fighting styles to their advantage against him. So, the three fought furiously, but as the fight dragged. Borjan began to gain the upper hand. More of his strikes began to land and he received less.

“Smite him in all your glory,” chanted Kaltmund and the ice spear formed. Borjan’s eyes went wide and he threw caution to the wind. He blocked Raione’s slash and swept her leg. He then quickly went for Eranor. He was a bit to rash as his sword went straight threw his right shoulder, but Borjan didn’t stop. He powered through and landed his shot square in his gut. Eranor was sent crashing against a pillar. Borjan swiftly turned around and lunged for Kaltmund with bloody shoulder and all.

“Show my foe,” said Kaltmund as from behind Raione buried the beards of her axes into Borjan and pulled him back. She then grabbed him from behind and held him in place as her heels dug into the tiles.

“Do it Kal. Don’t think just do it,” she cried as she held the enraged Borjan in place. Kaltmund froze as he understood what she asked of him. He watched the struggling scene with the ice spear formed. “Kal, I can’t hold him much longer. Do it now, we’re heroes remember.” With these final words, his resolve became iron. His eyes hardened and his heart became cold.

“Your…” he began before a hand slipped over his mouth from behind. A young woman stood behind him and struck his neck with two of her fingers. Her jet black hair was neatly done in a ponytail and her bright blue eyes shimmering. She had taken everyone by surprise.

“Naughty mage,” she whispered as Kaltmund’s body went limp in her grasp. She, however, underestimated Kaltmund as the ice spear did not disappear but fell straight down.

“Aisha no,” cried Borjan. The tip of the spear nicked the tiles. It exploded. Everything went a blinding white and blizzard cold. The shock wave sent everyone flying and some of the pillars tumbled in on themselves. The roof collapsed in on the cellar as dust and rubble were everywhere.