Paragon of Destruction

As the five Rangers were unbound and given their swords, their forlorn expressions faded almost instantly. Weapons in hand, they had once more become warriors rather than prisoners, and the change in their demeanor was as sudden as it was complete.

A single obstacle still remained between them and their freedom, but they were obviously confident in defeating the captain. If anything, they looked eager for the fight — eager for a chance to regain their honor.

Arran, however, knew that their confidence was misplaced.

While both the captain’s mercenaries and Rannoc’s troops looked worried, Arran had seen Kaleesh’s true power. And if that power wasn’t quite enough to defeat a Knight, it was far more than a handful of Rangers could hope to match.

Yet the Rangers were still blissfully unaware of the fate that would soon befall them. Weapons drawn, they moved to face the captain, their leader at the front of the small group.

To his credit, the man did not waste his breath on threats or insults. While his expression was one of grim anticipation, his eyes remained alert, focused on the outsider who had so casually challenged not one but five Rangers.

The captain drew his weapon as he faced the Rangers. And unlike his opponents, he still looked every bit as relaxed as he had before.

"Shall we begin, then?" he asked. From his casual voice and relaxed posture, it almost seemed like he treated the duel as a sparring match.

Yet although he looked unconcerned, Arran saw a subtle shift in his movements. Though few of the people present would recognize it, the captain’s body now held a hidden tension, like a loaded spring, ready to snap into action.

The Rangers’ leader did not reply. Instead, he gripped his sword with both hands, his body tensing up as he prepared to attack. And then, with a sudden dash, he rushed forward, striking a vicious overhand blow at the captain.

At least, that was his intent. But as the Ranger’s sword came down, it found only air.

Before the Ranger could respond, Kaleesh had stepped to the side, moving so fast even Arran could only barely see the movement. And as the captain moved, his sword flashed toward the Ranger in a single viper-like strike.

The Ranger’s weapon hit the ground an instant later, and although its owner’s hands still gripping it tightly, those hands were no longer attached to the Ranger’s arms.

For a brief moment, there was only silence.

The Ranger stared in horror as blood gushed from his wrists, and while his companions had already begun attacks of their own, they came to a sudden halt when they saw the scene before them.

"Take him away," Kaleesh said with a brief glance at the Darian soldiers who had gathered around them. Despite their shocked expressions, the soldiers did as told, dragging the maimed Ranger away even as more blood poured forth from his wrists.

Then, the captain turned back to the remaining Rangers. "Abandon your weapons," he said, "and I will spare your lives."

The four Rangers, so confident only moments earlier, hesitated for barely a second. But then, understanding that they were hopelessly outmatched, they threw their weapons on the ground.

"Sassun," the captain said, "please gather my spoils."

As the middle-aged commander began to pick up the Rangers’ weapons, the captain turned around to face the priest, not giving his defeated enemies so much as a second glance.

"No dead Darians," he said with a mirthless smile, "and four Rangers to add to Lord Rannoc’s ranks. I assume you are satisfied?"

The priest gave the captain a dark look in response. "What you did to him... that’s a fate worse than death."

"He chose his path," Kaleesh said. He shrugged dismissively, and continued, "Now then, with that taken care of, perhaps it’s time that my troops are granted their citizenship?"

The priest nodded, though his expression was no less grim than before. "It will be taken care of."

"Excellent," the captain replied, this time with a genuine smile. He turned to Rahm, and said, "And I thank you for the gift."

"My pleasure." The Knight grinned, and added, "Had I known I’d get a show out of it, I might have gathered a few more prisoners. See what you can really do."

Kaleesh laughed. "You might see that yet," he said. "Who knows what the future holds."

Yet his laugh lasted only a moment, and his expression soon turned serious once more — more so than before.

"But if you’ll excuse me," he said to the two Knights, "there’s another debt I need to settle. Sassun, Arran, come with me. Lasha, please take us to the overseer."

While Arran had almost forgotten about the man who had supposedly spoken for them to Kadun’s steward, he now remembered what the steward had said — that the overseer would be punished for his words.

He had barely spoken with the overseer during their time in the camp, busy as he was with his studies, but he now felt a sudden pang of guilt. From what he little he had seen of Darian justice, he could not imagine that it had gone well for the man.

"How is he?" Kaleesh asked Lasha as she guided them to the overseer’s quarters.

"Not good," she replied with a small shake of her head. "I wasn’t there to see it, but..." She sighed. "When the Rangers returned, they had him lashed. A dozen lashes, with their leader taking it upon himself to carry out the punishment."

Arran clenched his jaw when he heard her words. While a dozen lashes didn’t sound like much, even a single lash from a strong Body Refiner could kill a man.

Kaleesh nodded grimly. "Will he survive?"

"He will," Lasha replied. "When Rannoc’s troops took the camp, they made sure he received proper care. But even so..."

She did not finish the sentence, but from her expression, Arran understood that the overseer’s wounds were serious ones.

This suspicion was confirmed only moments later when they entered the overseer’s quarters. They found the man in bed, his face deathly pale and weary with anguish.

Yet despite his pitiful state, he looked up in wonder when he saw them.

"You returned," he said in a weak voice. "I was certain they had..." He paused to sigh. "No matter. I’m glad to see you’re still alive. I tried the best I could, but the steward... he refused to listen. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help."

"Don’t apologize," Kaleesh replied, his expression pained as he looked at the gaunt man. "I owe you an apology for putting you in danger."

At this, the overseer shook his head. "All I did was speak the truth."

The captain nodded softly. "Your wounds, how bad are they?"

"Not too bad," the overseer replied, forcing a smile. "The healers say I should recover with a few months’ rest."

"I’ll make sure you receive proper care," Kaleesh said. "But I also have a gift for you."

"A gift?" The overseer looked at him in wonder. "What for?"

"For speaking the truth," the captain replied. "And doing so despite the consequences. Sassun, hand me the weapons."

The commander did as told, handing Kaleesh the swords he’d taken from the defeated Rangers.

"These," the captain said, putting the weapons down beside the overseer’s bed, "I took from the Rangers who did this to you. Consider it their repayment for what you’ve suffered."

At once, the overseer’s eyes went wide with shock. "Starmetal?! I cannot accept such gifts!"

Kaleesh smiled warmly. "You don’t have a choice — not unless you manage to get out of bed and give them back."

"But..." the overseer began, the shock on his pale face only growing stronger. "Starmetal weapons... those are worth a fortune."

"Indeed," Kaleesh replied. "A fortune large enough that you can spend the rest of your days in wealth — once you’re out of this bed, at least."

The overseer remained silent for several seconds, then finally stammered, "Thank you." From the look on his face, it seemed he still couldn’t believe his good fortune.

They spoke for several more minutes, though it soon became apparent that between his injuries and the shock of the captain’s gift, the overseer could handle no more than that.

As they made their way out of the squat stone building again, Lasha looked at the captain in wonder. "It’s rare to see you so generous," she said, giving him a questioning look.

"Debts must be repaid," the captain replied. "And the debt I owed him was a great one, since I gave him little choice in this matter."

"True enough," Lasha admitted. "Though I think he’d have been happy enough with just one sword."

The captain gave her a wry smile. "Perhaps. But my conscience required more than that. And it doesn’t matter — a few swords will be the smallest of my losses, today."

Lasha gazed at the captain with narrowed eyes, concern suddenly written across her face. "Losses? What are you talking about?"

"Rannoc made a request," Kaleesh replied. "That I offer my troops the choice to join his forces. Once the priest finishes his task, I intend to honor that request."

"Join Rannoc’s forces?" Lasha asked, her worry now turning to puzzlement. "Even if you make the offer, you don’t seriously believe anyone will accept it, do you?" She shot a glance at Arran, then added, "Maybe a few of the newcomers will leave, but the rest are loyal."

"I have no doubts about their loyalty," Kaleesh said. "But the path ahead is a dangerous one — more so than you realize. What Rannoc offers is a life of comfort and wealth. What I offer is only a slim chance of survival."

Lasha paled as she stared at the captain, her expression horrified as understanding finally dawned in her eyes. "You’re going to tell them to accept the offer, aren’t you?"

Kaleesh gave her a slight nod. "I am."

The commander stared at her captain in bewilderment. "Why would you do such a thing?!"

Kaleesh sighed, turning his eyes to the large group of mercenaries in the distance. The priest had already begun his work, and one by one, the mercenaries were given glasses of wine to drink, a single drop of clear liquid in each.

He remained silent for some moments, eyes fixed on his troops. And when he finally spoke again, all humor had fled his expression.

"Many of those who join me," he said, "will not survive the journey. The enemies we will face are no common ones. With sufficient luck, half of those who go will return. Without it, none will."

"Then why go?" Lasha pleaded. "If it’s so dangerous, why go at all?"

"Because there’s no other way to get the power I need," the captain answered plainly. "But the troops — I would not ask of them to face the same danger. Not without knowing the risk."

That wasn’t nearly enough to convince Lasha, but her continued pleas had little effect. It was clear that Kaleesh had made up his mind a long ago, and no amount of words would dissuade him from the path he’d chosen.

Arran, however, wasn’t the least bit surprised by Kaleesh’s words.

Although he still didn’t know the full extent of the captain’s plans, he already understood that they involved far more than just toppling a single Lord.

Whatever Kaleesh had planned, it would require no small amount of power. And to get that power, it seemed the captain was prepared to face any danger, no matter how great.

Yet he had honor, as well. And while he could be ruthless to his enemies, so far Arran had seen nothing to make him doubt the captain’s loyalty to his allies.

It was the reason Arran trusted the man, but it caused him worry as well. Up to this point, their goals had aligned, with no need for either of them to choose between conflicting loyalties.

But if that changed, Arran could easily see it turning to a disaster.

Still, he did not intend to part ways with Kaleesh. Not yet, at least. By now, he understood all too well how little he knew of the Imperium, and how dangerous a place it was for ignorant outsiders.

To accompany the captain into the Desolation would be even more dangerous, of course, but it would offer him a chance to gain the Darians’ secrets. And after seeing the battle between the Lords, he knew that would be his path — to seize their secrets, and make them his own.

"Arran!"

Arran looked up in wonder, torn from his thoughts by the sudden voice — Lasha’s, he realized.

"What is it?"

"This mad plan of his... are you going along with it, too?" She gave him an expectant look, apparently hoping that he might convince the captain where she had failed.

"I am," he replied instead. Seeing her disappointed look, he explained, "In the city, we watched two Lords do battle. If you’d seen it, you’d understand — their power is terrifying. If facing danger means a chance at learning that, then it’s well worth it."

"Even if it means breaking up the Wolfsblood Company?" she asked. Though she spoke to Arran, it was clear that her words were intended for the captain.

Yet suddenly, Arran understood her true objection. And it wasn’t, as he’d thought earlier, that they would face danger. Rather, it was that she feared losing her companions.

To him, the mercenaries in the Wolfsblood Company were friends and allies — important both, but not so much that he would hesitate in leaving them behind. But to Lasha, it seemed they were more like family.

Suddenly, he could not help but feel out of place. Even after the half-year he’d spent with the group, it seemed that in some ways, he was still a stranger.

The captain appeared to sense this as well, as he turned to Lasha and said in a soft voice, "Let’s take a walk together."

Arran’s brow was furrowed in thought as the captain and his commander walked off, softly talking as they disappeared between the stone buildings around them.

He turned to Sassun. "Are those two...?" he began, leaving the final words unspoken.

"No," the dour-faced commander replied curtly. Yet a moment later, he added in a friendlier tone, "Lasha was young when she joined the Company, barely out of childhood. Captain took her in and taught her to fight."

That only raised more questions for Arran, but it was clear that Sassun had no interest in answering them. He gave Arran a short nod, then began to head in the direction of the mercenaries who were still gathered around the priest.

And just like that, Arran suddenly found himself alone, standing by himself in the middle of the mining camp.

For a brief moment, he found himself wishing he was back in the Ninth Valley, with Brightblade, Snowcloud, and the others — not to mention his cooks.

Yet the Ninth Valley was thousands of miles away, and after a moment’s thought, he set off to find Muna. Although she might be his enemy, at least she was a friendly one.

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