Paragon of Destruction

When morning came, the guards wasted no time in leaving. They broke camp even before the first light of day brightened the sky, clearly anxious to leave the border.

The guard captain gave the group of borderlanders no further advice or warnings. While his expression suggested he believed they were making a grave mistake, he merely spoke some quick words of farewell before leading his men back along the road to Esran.

Yet where the guards had left quickly, the borderlanders were slow in packing up their belongings. Many of them shot nervous glances at the two boulders along the road ahead, and it was obvious that they were hesitant in continuing the journey.

To Arran’s dismay, however, more than a few of the borderlanders looked at him with questioning eyes, as if they were waiting for him to lead the way.

Leading the group was the last thing he wanted, but it seemed that his actions of the previous day had left more of an impression than he’d expected. And with the guards gone, his fellow travelers were now looking to him for leadership.

Arran let out a deep sigh. From the look of the borderlanders, it could easily be another hour before they mustered the courage to enter the Imperium.

"Listen up!" he called out. "Pack your bags and finish your meals. We leave in a quarter-hour!"

His words had the intended effect. At once, a ripple of motion went through the group.

The group was packed and ready to leave just a few minutes later, well before the quarter-hour was up.

"Everyone ready?" Arran called out. Some nods and murmurs came from the crowd, but there were no objections. "Then let’s go!"

Arran started toward the two boulders at a calm pace, with the group setting into motion behind him. Now that they had a leader, the borderlanders no longer dawdled — all they had needed was someone to take charge and lead the way.

Yet while he had reassured his companions, Arran felt a hint of hesitation as he passed between the two large boulders.

At his side now hung a simple steel sword — one of the many weapons his void ring contained. Though it was well-made, it lacked even a single enchantment. That would avoid unwanted attention, but it also meant the weapon would be useless against any real threat.

A better weapon was only a thought away, but having the executioner’s sword take its real shape or retrieving a starmetal weapon from his void ring would instantly expose him as a mage. If that happened, he would have to find a way to deal with the witnesses.

And with two hundred borderlanders behind him, there would be many of those.

But after a moment, Arran forced himself to set these worries aside. Unless things went disastrously wrong, there would be no need for him to use a weapon at all.

Instead, he focused his attention on the road ahead — and the Hunters who were still following them, hidden behind trees and brush as they traveled along with the borderlanders.

Now that they had entered the Imperium, Arran believed it wouldn’t be long before the Hunters revealed themselves. Within their own lands, there was no need for stealth — as far they would know, the borderlanders were completely under their control.

And so, Arran progressed at a slow but steady pace, readying himself for the encounter that was to come.

Just as he had expected, they had barely been within the Imperium’s borders for a quarter-hour when he Sensed the Hunters approach the road, one group moving in front of the borderlanders and one group behind them.

The large group of travelers came to an abrupt halt when they saw the Hunters, and several gasps and whispers sounded among them. While many of them had previously seen Hunters in the borderlands, meeting them here was far more intimidating — here, they could not simply look away and hope to go unnoticed.

Arran, however, looked at the half-dozen Hunters on the road ahead with some interest. Walking at the very front of the group, he’d been the first to see them, and with narrowed eyes, he studied the Hunters while he waited for them to make a move.

There were six Hunters ahead of him, all dressed in leather armor, with slender swords at their sides and bows strapped to their backs. Now, finally, Arran could see why they were known as Hunters in the borderlands — judging from their look, they resembled huntsmen more than anything.

Of course, the Hunters looked at Arran as well. Not only was he first among the group of borderlanders, his stance and movements also revealed him as a Body Refiner.

This was a deliberate decision on his part. While he could conceal all his abilities, doing so would be difficult. And if he slipped up for even a moment after having hidden his strength, he would immediately draw no small amount of suspicion.

Far easier to reveal just enough to be noticed and dismissed.

And indeed, the man at the front of the Hunters — their leader, Arran guessed — only gave Arran a brief look before turning his attention to the rest of the group.

"Everyone!" he said in a loud but calm voice. "I welcome you to your new home — the Darian Empire."

The group of borderlanders breathed a collective sigh of relief at his words, their worries fading as they understood they would not be treated as enemies. Whatever else lay ahead, at least the worst of their fears had not come to pass.

The Hunter waited for the murmurs to die down, then continued, "We will accompany you for the next half day, to ensure your safety. Understand that while you have been welcomed, you are not yet citizens of the Imperium. Should you stray from the group, the punishment is death."

This time, his words caused a more muted response, and Arran could not help but think the warning was unnecessary. With a dozen Hunters guarding them, none of the borderlanders would even dare to think of fleeing.

But then, this was far from the first group to enter the Imperium. And perhaps some of the previous outsiders had been more foolish.

Or, Arran suddenly realized, some of the previous groups might have included mages, confident in their ability to slip away undetected. If that was the case, it would also explain the Hunters’ care in following the group over the previous days.

But either way, Arran had no intention of trying to escape. His best chance to infiltrate the Imperium was to blend in with the borderlanders. And should that fail, he had the Knight’s ring to protect him.

"All of you, follow us," another of the Hunters called out, a woman this time. And as she spoke, the other Hunters turned around and set off along the road, with Arran and the borderlanders quickly following behind them.

Several hours passed mostly in silence, with none of the Hunters saying another word to the borderlanders, and the borderlanders themselves too fearful to speak.

Yet by late morning, the farmer whose son Arran had saved walked up beside him, then said in a low voice, "Not a talkative lot, are they?"

It appeared that several hours in the Hunters’ presence had been enough for his fears to erode somewhat, though Arran thought that had he known the Hunters could easily hear him, the man might have chosen his words more carefully.

"I’m guessing these are the border guards," Arran replied. "Can’t expect those to be too friendly. It’ll be different when we reach whatever place they’re taking us too."

"I suppose," the farmer replied, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced. "It’d be nice to learn a bit more about them, though. Especially after we’ve come all this way."

"You will learn soon enough."

The voice came from one of the Hunters a few dozen paces in front of them, and the farmer’s face went paper-white in an instant.

"I apologize," he said hurriedly. "I didn’t think..." He stopped talking mid-sentence, apparently realizing that admitting to talking behind the Hunters’ backs wasn’t the best of ideas.

The Hunter, however, seemed neither amused nor offended. Instead, he said in a calm voice, "Matters will be explained to you when we reach our destination. For now, you would do well to be patient."

The farmer nodded hastily, no longer daring to speak. And as the Hunter turned back toward the road ahead, the farmer wasted no time in falling back several dozens of paces, disappearing into the crowd as best he could.

More hours passed as they traveled along the road, with the Hunters barely saying a word and the borderlanders speaking only in whispers.

Slowly, however, the landscape around them changed. While there was still no sign of farms or villages, the trees grew less dense and eventually disappeared entirely, with open grasslands taking their place.

Then, close to midday, Arran saw something in the distance — a vast fortress, tall and thick-walled. And even from half a mile away, he could see that it had been built to withstand more than just commoners — the walls were far too massive for that.

He did not need to look at the road ahead to know that the fortress was where the Hunters were taking them.

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