Broken Tower Saga: The First Swordsman

The days were way warmer in Gala considering the drop of temperature from the evening. The artificial sun rose again, dying the city with its splendour. 

Wrik opened the balcony door, walked there. He carefully gazed at the city once more. Even though it was dawn in the winter, the mist had not shrouded the city. Even though there was mist, it would be cleared soon.

The citadel held few lofty buildings—higher even compared to the wall, while the rest of the buildings were a tad low surrounding the circular perimeter of the great wall. The wall had some rune marking on it, giving it the look of ancient and mysterious. He had not noticed that yesterday, as it was quite dark then.

It was about four in the morning, and the city regained its life and business. The market along the wall was just opening, and the garrison was always busy protecting the city. 

Abruptly, Wrik saw a familiar figure walking out of their building in a sneaky way, making sure no one saw her. The figure was hidden behind a cloak and hood, but Wrik recognised it without much problem. Her way of moving as if afraid to disturb the earth and posture showed it was Byul.

Curiosity rose in Wrik, and with consideration once he moved and left the building too. He put on a cloak with his cosmic pouch and a couple of knives in place. He walked quite fast after coming off the building in fear he would lose track of her. Fortunately, that was not a problem. After leaving the Sunset resort, the short girl moved normally, like any other person. 

Wrik followed, finding the small figure in the cloak. He kept a distance of twenty metres apart, blending with the other passerby. The way she was going showed she was going outside of the great wall—probably the place she used to live. He did not know if she had any family here, or friends—but her departing alone made him a little curious.

They reached the market where the people were already buying stuff, from vegetables to other supplies. Even though the city was small, it held a few million people and people had their needs. 

Like always, Wrik felt a little unrest in the crowd and moved faster than before, keeping an eye on the figure before him. She left through the main gate and Wrik followed. 

Outside of the great wall was different from the inside. There were some high buildings, but that was quite far. There were loads of raw materials in large numbers in rows, probably waiting to be imported. Many garrisons were there, protecting it. There were a few distinctions in the soldier's uniforms, though most were the same. Perhaps they were from another regiment or in charge of something else.

Byul walked into it. Now she was a little more cautious in her walking, keeping an eye out for all the soldiers. 

Wrik felt a dozen stares on his body, but he was more nonchalant than the figure he was following. He looked around at the stars of the soldier and saw the proud look on their face wearing the dark emerald uniform. They had spears and shotguns with them. But the spear they were holding was a little unusual—it was not your medieval spear made out of iron. It did look like it was made of good metal, but there was something more to it. His scrutinising gaze noticed that. 

'Crap,' he swore in his mind. Just a moment of distraction, he lost the figure he was following. He moved a little faster now, catching the stare of more soldiers. His pace of moving rose further, as he could not find Byul. 

Abruptly, he heard a cry a little after. It was faint and fleeting, but his ears were good as an eagle. He moved along towards the source of the knowledge and finally found the cloaked figure. But she was not alone there, and not in good condition either. Some garrison had shackled her entirely and was about to take her away. The small figure was struggling and yelling, but the soldier put no ears to it.

"Hey," Wrik snarled. A knife appeared in his arm instantly as he infused mana into it, wanting to frighten the soldier. "She's with me, free her." 

The soldiers were unmoved by his loud noise. Their eyes were at the knife in his arm. 

"Another one of them," said the captain of the garrison. "Capture him too."

Half a dozen soldiers encircled him instantly while the others watched. The soldiers had spears on their arms that were blazing with the current of mana. Now, he knew what was so different about it. These weapons were not normal. Even though the soldiers were fuelling mana into it, the spear still had a considerable amount of it. And it looked threatening enough.

"Hey, I mean no harm," he said, but the soldier did not listen. He could not figure out what's wrong with them, attacking without a word.

His eyes narrowed. The six of them come at him together as he puts on the coating of armament reinforcement. He did not know what they were planning, but he could not ponder on it for long.

He stepped sideways, dodging the spear that came his way. With a rush of foot, he was six feet above in the midair. His body moved in an arc as he slashed the knife. Mana released the weapon and assaulted the two soldiers forward. 

They yelped in pain, dropping on the ground. Their dark emerald cloth strained in blood and in no way continued the battle. Wrik had not attacked with full force or else they would be as good as dead. 

"Look, I mean no harm," just at the moment Wrik finished saying that, a couple of bullets hit him in the thigh. It could not break his mana armament entirely, but it did hurt like hell. He dropped to the ground for instance, and stood up again. These were not normal bullets, like the spear in the arms of the soldier it was reinforced with with mana current as well. 

If he was not so proficient in mana coating, it might have reached his bone. Or if the weapons were of high calibre, the shit could turn even worse. 

"Looks like we have caught a big fish among the thieves," said the captain. He was quite a young man, barely a couple of years older than Wrik. 

"Sir, could it be one of the rebels? He took two bullets and still standing?" one of the soldiers asked with a little excitement and fear in his tone.

"Probably not. Catching rebels is not so easy these days," the captain said, still his eyes at Wrik, who was gazing all over to find the sniper. "They have become quite smarter these days."

"Look, I'm not what you guys are thinking," Wrik snarled again. His eyes were glowing with a white glow and now he could see where the snipers were at. Few of them were above the great wall, about a mile away, while he could guess there were more in the other tall buildings here. "I'm not a thief or whatever you folks are talking about."

"They all say the same thing after getting caught," the captain said, raising an arm. His voice was a little excited now. What if this person was a rebel, and he caught him? It would grant him such an honour that his family could live off well for two decades for such honour. 

The spear-bearing soldiers were more cautious now, after seeing two of their companions, but it appeared they did not have to do anything. The moment the captain dropped his arm, bullets with mana current blazed into it, shot at him from all directions.

His eyes narrowed and the lights in them turned colder. His legs moved in a bolt and most of the bullets missed him, though a couple hit him on the back. Wrik ignored the pain and penetrated the formation of soldiers before the captain. 

"Drop Your Weapon." His voice turned cold. It was not as loud as before, but it held some kind of authority. "Tell Them To Stop Firing."

The soldiers immediately dropped their spears and so did the ones that held shotguns against him. They were flabbergasted and so was Wrik. He had no idea how the soldiers who were so unreasonable a moment ago, dropped their weapon so easily, but on second thought he could find that it was not so startling. He could not point where, but his voice did hold some kind of authority when he spoke a moment ago.

The captain raised his arm, cold sweat dripping from his forehead to his cheek. The firing stopped at once.

Wrik sucked in a deep breath. All this security was not just for show. A few of these soldiers could hold their own against a normal Mahasayer. Not to mention the help from all the snipers and all the others he was not aware of.

Wrik infused mana into the invisible symbol on his arm as it lit up. "Do you recognise this?" he said in an icy voice to the captain with the name tag, Das Bennet.

"Ma-Mahasayer," the young captain flustered a little. Without uttering a word, he dropped to the ground. "Please forgive me, Sir."

___________________

It would take a few more chapters to get the things interesting here, and I promise it would be better than Little War. I have been planning this from the start and found a name for Part four.

A Sword Was Drawn.