No Wound Beneath

Zay, Khyrie, and Kiel lunged for their discarded cutlasses.

Steel flashed.

Three Avelorn soldiers went down before the others could react.

Warui threw an arm around the neck of the soldier who had been patting him down.

Gunshots cracked through the room as the three soldiers holding Chena, Sarah, and River at gunpoint fired toward Kiel and Khyrie.

Both moved before the shots reached them.

Kiel rushed one as Khyrie took the other, their blades cutting across two throats almost at once.

The final soldier turned just as a musket fired, snapping his head back.

Kiel looked toward the shot.

Warui lay on the floor beneath the unconscious soldier he had choked, one of the fallen muskets braced awkwardly in his hands. He shoved the body off himself.

The dark red sword vanished.

Instantly.

Nothing remained where it had been.

The two soldiers it had pierced collapsed to the floor, blood spilling from their heads.

Chena hurried over and held out her hand. Warui took it.

“What the hell?!” Sarah stared at the bodies. “A sword just—”

“We all saw it,” Zay said. “Whatever the hell that was.” He moved through the room. “Don’t think about it for now.”

He grabbed the unconscious soldier and dragged him against the wall, sitting him upright. “We continue the mission.”

Zay crouched in front of him. “And ask this guy where his commander is.”

Several minutes later, the soldier’s eyes cracked open.

He blinked several times before they finally focused.

Zay was crouched directly in front of him. Beyond him, Warui stood with Chena, Kiel, Khyrie, River, and Sarah.

“Hey.” Zay nudged the man’s calf with the barrel of a musket. “Why don’t you so kindly tell us where Garrick Vance is?”

The soldier swallowed.

“What do you say?”

“I... if I tell you...”

His breathing shortened.

“W—what happens?”

“We don’t have all day.”

Zay studied his face for a moment, then flicked two fingers dismissively. “To you? Or Fort Avelorn?”

The soldier hesitated.

“Maybe both.”

His eyes dropped.

“And... and the commander.”

“We’ll let you live.”

The soldier looked up again.

“And you should know how the talks went,” Zay said. “Your other two questions don’t matter.”

Silence.

The soldier relented. “Commander Vance is in the headquarters.”

Zay rose, his attention settling on the stairs. “Alright. Forget heading to the rear. We go straight to the central square.”

The soldier shifted against the wall. “He really does want one more chance at negotiation.”

Zay kept walking.

Headquarters, Fort Avelorn

Commander Garrick Vance stood on the fifth floor of headquarters, where the upper level opened into a watchtower.

An officer hurried toward him. “Sir, the rear gate has been overrun.”

“How much of their force?”

“It was a large portion of their men.”

Vance looked out across the fort. “We’ve lost the front battery too.”

The officer froze.

“Are there any civilian casualties? Children?”

“I haven’t seen any, sir.”

Vance exhaled. “Well. Mercer is keeping his word on that...”

“Redirect our forces to the rear.” Vance moved toward the ladder. “Keep a tight group here inside headquarters.”

“Will do, sir!”

Vance glanced once toward the exposed watchtower. “Come on. We’re sitting ducks for any marksman up here.”

Inside Fort Avelorn

Zay pressed himself against the wall of a house and leaned just far enough to look around the corner.

Warui waited behind him with Chena, Kiel, Khyrie, River, and Sarah.

A woman standing at the window beside him caught Warui’s eye.

For a moment, she stared directly at them, her face draining of color as she recoiled from the window. Then she screamed and fled upstairs. 

Warui watched her disappear.

“It’s been quiet, Captain,” Kiel said.

“Don’t get your hopes up," Zay said while turning around. "Listen."

He pointed between Chena, River, and Sarah. “You three cover the rest of us while we run straight to the central block entrance. Give us enough time, then follow us in.” His attention returned to the corner.

“The rest of you, let’s move.”

Zay broke from cover, with Khyrie, Kiel, and Warui close behind as they sprinted across the open road toward the tunnel entrance.

Behind them, Chena, Sarah, and River stepped around the corner and raised their guns.

They crossed into the tunnel, where the air turned cool and damp and the daylight thinned behind them. Their footsteps took on a hollow echo against the enclosed stone.

Beside him, Kiel lowered his voice. “Captain.”

No answer.

“I know you said not right now.”

Kiel hesitated.

“But that sword.”

“Kiel,” Khyrie said quietly.

“It appeared out of thin air,” Kiel said. “You got any—”

“Kiel,” Warui whispered. “Focus.”

“Listen to them,” Zay said.

Kiel fell silent.

They kept walking until Zay stopped so abruptly that Warui nearly walked into him.

Footsteps.

Coming from the opposite end.

More than one set.

Gear rattled somewhere in the darkness.

“You three stay back and stay low,” Zay said. “It’s too narrow for all of us to fight.”

“We can’t just watch.”

Zay’s tone left no room for argument. “You can when I command it, Warui.”

The footsteps grew louder.

Closer.

Kiel moved against the right wall and crouched, with Warui and Khyrie settling in beside him.

Zay remained standing in the middle of the tunnel.

He inhaled.

Then exhaled.

The footsteps were only a few feet away now.

Straps could be heard.

Metal.

Breathing.

Zay lunged into the darkness and collided with an Avelorn soldier, a grunt forced from him on impact.

A musket fired.

For an instant, the entire tunnel flashed white.

The gunshot exploded through the narrow passage. Zay ducked beneath it and drove his cutlass upward.

Straight through the soldier’s neck.

He pulled it free just as another muzzle flash erupted farther ahead.

Zay dropped beneath the shot and swept his blade.

Two soldiers screamed as their ankles were cut out from under them.

They hit the ground.

Zay stayed crouched.

One hand touched the floor.

Moved.

Found something.

A musket barrel.

He grabbed it.

Warui barely saw the motion before Zay threw the weapon forward.

The attached bayonet disappeared into the darkness with a wet impact.

Then a body fell.

Zay stood. “Let’s move.”

Warui rose with Khyrie and Kiel, and the three pressed on through the darkness, each step cautious, their boots catching on bodies they could barely see.

Warui’s boot came down on something soft.

A leg.

“AGHHH!”

He jerked his foot away.

Beneath them, the two soldiers whose ankles Zay had cut were still alive, their cries rising through the darkness.

Warui clenched his teeth.

Zay was already farther ahead. “Finish them!”

Warui stopped. “They... they’re out of it, Captain!”

Zay kept walking.

The soldiers kept yelling while Kiel and Khyrie came up behind them. “We can do it,” Kiel said.

“Just follow Captain Zay,” Khyrie added.

Near Warui’s boots, the soldiers writhed in the darkness. He hesitated.

After a moment, Warui’s attention shifted ahead. He moved past Khyrie and Kiel.

He caught up to Zay several moments later.

Behind him, the screaming stopped.

Warui didn’t turn around.

“Your hands are dirty.” Zay cut his eyes toward him. “Why hesitate?”

A beat.

“They couldn’t fight anymore...”

“Mm.” 

That was all Zay said.

The end of the tunnel opened into daylight. Zay emerged first, Warui close behind, only for him to halt just beyond the entrance.

Commander Mercer and the rest of the Tirian force had already reached the central square. Soldiers filled the open space to Warui’s right.

Headquarters stood ahead, but no one was looking at it. Every face had turned left.

Near the town hall, an Avelorn soldier held an oil lamp aloft in each hand. “I’ll burn the archives!” His voice trembled across the square. “I swear!”

Mercer kept his soldiers back. “Don’t aggravate him.”

Warui started forward, but Zay caught the movement at once. “Stop, kid.” Warui froze.

The Avelorn soldier’s eyes darted wildly across the Tirian force. “This is all you’re here for, right?!” He thrust the lamps higher. “It’ll all be for nothing!”

Warui lifted both hands and approached the soldier. “Sir.” Zay’s voice dropped to a furious mutter. “You shit—”

“Back up!” the soldier shouted.

Warui edged forward another step. “We can talk.” The soldier’s grip tightened around the lamp handles.

“Nobody else needs to die.” Warui kept moving. “We’re deep enough in the fort—”

“Stop right there!” Warui halted. “I’ll toss the lamps into the town hall and burn all civilian records!”

Chena emerged from the tunnel with Khyrie, Kiel, River, and Sarah. “Warui,” she said quietly, “what are you doing?”

Mercer and Zay exchanged a look, but neither moved.

Warui kept his hands raised. “Put the lamps down, sir.”

“Then leave.”

“I want you to put those down.”

“Tell your commander—”

Frustration roughened Warui’s voice. “Ugh. Just put them down—” Something tore through his chest.

Warui’s body jerked forward.

He shouted.

Dark red burst through the front of his uniform.

A sword.

Vein-like structures crawled across its surface as it shot away from him.

Straight across the square, straight through the Avelorn soldier’s head, the force carrying him backward.

His body slammed against the front wall of the town hall as both lamps fell, one shattering against the ground. Nothing caught fire.

A hole gaped in the front of Warui’s uniform. He caught the torn fabric in both hands and pulled it apart.

No blood.

No wound.

Nothing.

The soldier’s body slid from the wall and collapsed.

The dark red sword was gone.

Completely.

Kiel took a single step forward.

Chena immediately ran.

No one else in the square moved.

GKI: Generally Known Information

Melee Weaponry

In the modern battlefield, the firearm is the primary weapon.

Muskets, handguns, long rifles, crossbows, artillery, and mounted formations determine the shape of most engagements long before opposing soldiers come within arm’s reach.

Blades therefore occupy a secondary role.

They are carried when a firearm cannot be reloaded in time, when fighting becomes too confined for a long gun, when ammunition is exhausted, or when an opponent closes the distance before another shot can be prepared.

Across much of the world, formal swordsmanship has gradually become a specialized military skill.

Tiria is an exception.

Tirian trainees are commonly instructed in at least one form of close-quarters weapon use before entering either the Army or Crown Warden.

The reason is practical. Black-powder weapons are powerful, but slow. A misfire, empty handgun, damaged lock, crowded room, mounted charge, or sudden ambush can reduce the most advanced firearm to several pounds of useless wood and steel.

The weapons themselves vary considerably.

Long swords provide reach and powerful cutting ability, though their size makes them less convenient to carry or use in confined spaces.

Cutlasses are shorter, heavier blades favored where durability and close fighting are more important than reach. It is popular among soldiers stationed in Valeria City.

Rapiers emphasize speed, precision, and thrusting attacks, and remain popular among officers, duelists, and soldiers trained in more technical fencing styles.

Main-gauches are commonly paired with lighter swords and are designed for defense and fighting at extremely close range. Only the best swordsmen ever consider utilizing it.

Daggers remain the simplest and most widespread secondary weapon, easily carried even by soldiers whose primary duties rarely require a sword.

Despite their continued presence, swords are no longer regarded as the weapons that decide wars.

Yet battles do not always remain at a distance.

Doors are breached.

Alleys narrow.

Horses collide.

Weapons misfire.

A soldier fires once and discovers there is no time for a second shot.

This is why Tirian soldiers continue to train with weapons much of the world considers increasingly obsolete.

Not because the blade replaced the firearm.

Because eventually, someone always gets too close.