Scianeus's Orphans Saga

It had been three days since the attack. Through their cooperation and sense of responsibility, and under Joshua's leadership, the group managed to pull through the hardships.

They were not close to starving anytime soon, as they still had plenty of food left from their hunt, but they couldn't stay in the cabin any longer.

The weather was turning colder as winter drew nearer, and sleeping on the chilly, splintered wooden floor was proving detrimental to their health, as their small bodies grew weaker by the day.

Joshua gathered everyone around to discuss their next move, aware that they needed to leave soon lest they be trapped by the thick snow for months, with little hope of survival.

Jasmine and a few others, still sentimental about parting from the director, wanted to return to the orphanage, but that idea was quickly shut down as the columns of smoke had only recently subsided.

Sai and Teuta wanted to find Zenobia; her lessons on disguise and deception were crucial in these times. They realized she could effectively shelter them from danger. However, the madame had left urgently a while back, and they had no idea where she was. Leading a group of defenseless kids across the kingdom to find her was not something Joshua could accept.

He and Altan insisted on traveling to the capital to find Dirrar, who had gone there over a fortnight ago on one of his quarterly visits to purchase supplies and do mercenary work for funds. This way, they had a clear end goal and could travel a large portion of the voyage on the king's road, providing much-needed safety.

They began preparing for departure. Altan had been making jerky from the boar for a while, so they had enough nourishment for the road, but they lacked flasks to carry sufficient water and were conflicted on what to do.

Reynard, who had spent his early childhood living in a forest, said, "We don't need to worry about that for now. We are bound to run into a few streams and creeks, but the problem is what we will encounter at these places. I don't want another boar charging after me."

"And we can't maneuver this large group as quickly as we did before. If anything comes running at us, we won't be able to escape, and that would endanger our younger siblings," Altan stated.

"Don't forget that even if we make it out of the forest, we will have nowhere to sleep. I doubt any tavern would welcome a dozen dirty-faced kids, even if we had the money to pay them—which we don't!" Sai commented.

After listening to everyone's opinions, Joshua grabbed a stick. "We will keep our five sisters in the middle, and march surrounding them on all sides. Altan will march at the front since he's most familiar with tracking and the layout of the forest. Sai and Reynard will take one flank, while Herbert takes the other, and I will take the rear," he explained while drawing the formation on the ground. "In case something happens, four of us will respond to the situation while one stays to guard the rest."

"I made a few arrows earlier. They're nothing special, but they should be enough if shot directly at vital points," said Altan.

"Good. You should keep the bow. The spear will go to Herbert, Reynard and I will use the short knives," Joshua asserted as he started divvying up the weapons.

Then, Loretta stood up, protesting how they were kept out of the loop, disregarding her twin sister Sylvia's pleas to trust her senior. "It's not that I don't trust them, but I don't want to be treated like a damsel in distress. We are not a burden. We were taught to fend for ourselves, the same as you."

She then turned to Sarai and asked, "Don't you find this frustrating too? You are the most proficient among us with spears but were forced to prepare meals and rely on others for protection!"

"We don't have enough weapons. I believe they are doing the best they can given the circumstances. Don't be a brat, Loretta. You may think you're trying to be responsible, but all you're doing right now is complaining," Sarai coldly replied.

Teuta added, "Joshua is doing the best he can as a leader right now. Throwing a tantrum just because he's trying to protect us is insulting. You need to apologize immediately."

Realizing her mistake, Loretta muttered, "I know he's doing a good job, and I'm grateful. I just wanted to do my part too."

"I know I made you feel like a burden, and I'm sorry. But I was entrusted with your safety, and I couldn't bear to face the director if something bad were to happen," Joshua whispered as he patted her head. "Every one of us has a role to play. Bear with it for a while."

And with that, the meeting was over. Since it was already afternoon, they decided to sleep the night and depart early in the morning.

"Impressive work, as always! Those bandits will think twice before raiding Theurinia village again," said the guild's office receptionist. "The guild master is insisting on treating you to dinner tonight."

"I'm not gonna break bread with that old oaf again. He passes out drunk, headfirst into his bowl, after just a few sips every time."

"Please humor him. He keeps nagging me every time you come to the capital."

"I wouldn't say no to dinner with you, though, darling," Dirrar replied with his renowned flirty smile, showing a row of bone-white teeth, his deep brown eyes locked on hers.

Flustered, the receptionist playfully implored him to stop teasing her. "Don't think I'll fall for your honeyed words," she said, though her rosy cheeks betrayed her interest.

Dirrar knew she had taken the bait as she averted her eyes. He collected his coin and raised a mug amidst the cheer of fellow mercenaries celebrating their safe returns.

In the midst of the merry mood, the sound of breaking glass grabbed everyone's attention, and all eyes turned to the daunting figure rising from a seat in the back. The giant stature and flowing red hair left no doubt in their minds—it was a northerner.

There was already murmuring as to his identity when someone pointed to the ring struggling to contain his massive biceps. He was a champion candidate from the Northern Confederation.

The hulking figure then erupted, "The old fogeys insisted that I come all the way here to find a worthy foe and prove my valor, but all I found were stink-filled streets and a bunch of weaklings cheering on an oily-faced bastard!"

Pounding his fist on Dirrar's table, he growled, "Coming here was a huge waste of time. The only thing that could make it worthwhile is if I get to smash your head in before I leave. Get up and meet me outside!" He smashed his foot through the door, proceeding to wait in the courtyard.

Shouting to grab everyone's attention, he cried out, "I, Vokrunn, the mightiest warrior of the Agora tribe, challenge you to a duel! Come out and face me if you dare!"

As a crowd began gathering, Dirrar took his sweet time finishing his mug, as if nothing had happened.

After a short while, he could hear the brute stomping his feet outside, cursing at him to come out and accusing him of cowardice. He asked the slender woman sitting across from him, whose numerous scars bore witness to her experience, "Did a decent crowd gather?"

"I reckon. The market just closed, and his voice was pretty damn loud. I'd bet nearly a hundred people are waiting for your arrival," she chuckled. "So, are you going to fight?"

"You know how this city works. I'm sure everyone out there is waiting to find out who he challenged so they can start placing their bets," he said, flipping his mug in annoyance at its emptiness. "Well, we shouldn't keep the audience waiting any longer."

"Looks like drinks are free tonight, lads! Let's all bet on Dirrar!" shouted a table in the back as they ordered a new round of drinks, getting ready to watch the show.

"I wouldn't be too sure, boys. You might wanna get paid beforehand, Reginald!" Dirrar called out to the bartender. "I've grown rusty lately, and a champion candidate is a tough nut to crack."

This earned him a glare from the scarred woman, who said menacingly, "Stop playing around and go take care of your business so we can finish our chat. If anyone could kill you, they would have done it a long time ago."

Dirrar raised his hands to his ears as if tired of her nagging and made his way outside.

The courtyard was packed with spectators, merchants who had come to trade in the capital market and were on their way back with heavy pouches. Laughter erupted as they watched the challenged party stumble forward, wobbling all over the place. Many began betting on the northerner, who unsheathed his giant greatsword.

"I heard the Guild of the Soaring Falcon was one of the best in the kingdom, but their most celebrated member is this drunken fool? Let us hope your skills with the blade match your honeyed tongue, which you use to coax women—for your sake," Vorkunn blurted.

Seeing how quick-tempered his opponent was, Dirrar emphasized his theatrics to further antagonize him. He did a clumsy bow that caused his tunic to fall over his head, struggling to readjust it while repeatedly tripping around, much to the crowd's amusement.

Deeming his opponent unworthy of crossing blades with him and clearly infuriated by his behavior, Vorkunn dropped his sword and readied his fist.

" I will save you further embarrassment, now die!" he shouted as he charged forward, aiming to drive his knuckles into his opponent's body and carve out his stomach.

But all his fist caught was air, he could hardly believe that the drunken man who was until now struggling to stand up straight managed to narrowly avoid his attack, but he quickly regained his focus and attributed it to cheer luck, as he continued launching a flurry of attacks.

As Dirrar skillfully avoided all his attacks by a hair's breadth, silence overcame the crowd as their initial expectations of a quick buck were chattered. Only broken by the cheers of a group of mercenaries coming out of the guild's headquarters, who started celebrating in anticipation of their free round of drinks.

Only the members at Dirrar's table kept silent, they could tell at a glance that Vorkunn was no easy opponent as each of his missed attacks blew a gust of wind in the air, a testament to his explosive power.