The Master of Uradan

Rohan parried the tip of the spear on his left in a loud clash. He sent it away with a sharp gesture and made a step to the side. Just in time to catch with his blade the second spear coming to this right.

As his sword was locked with this spear, the first fighter charged again toward him. Without more choices, Rohan rushed in front to bump into the man standing there to get his weapon out from there.

While the man was forced to take a couple of steps back, the warrior turned back and slashed at the incoming spear. The force of the blow deviated the weapon to the side. The holder lost his balance.

As the two members of the Blackwolf clan were fighting against Rohan, a small crowd of spectators was watching them, shouting some exclamations from time to time. Among them stood Deidros and his sister who was full of sweat. A few minutes earlier, it was her at the place of these two men fighting this monster.

She had discovered that the more they fought each other, the more Rohan was hard to deal with. She didn't know it, but it was simply that Rohan was getting used to restraining his force.

Since Horim had taught him how to forge, and since he had better control over his body than any other human, it wasn't that difficult for a rank 5 Beginner Warrior to restrain his force. But in a fight, such control was hard, as it was always the reflexes taking the ascendant and acting before anything else.

But since he was here, forced to pretend to be a rank 3 Beginner Warrior, and even less, it had given him a goldy training every day. Feeling repressed every time he fought was putting a stroll on his mind, and the frustration was complicated to bear, but he had still won a lot in the end. That was why he mostly fought while not even using the strength of a rank 1 Beginner Warrior.

Otherwise, a simple blow from a rank 3 was enough to send his opponents flying and crashing to the ground.

The two fighters charged at him at the same time, one of the left and the other one on the right. His sword flew through the air to intercept the spear on the right. His body bent along with his blow to dodge the second one which almost grazed his flank.

He slashed to the right and struck the left. He dodged one and parried the other. The shrieks of the iron hitting the sharp stones echoed around the whole arena again and again, as a piece of music never-ending.

But it was time to stop here. Rohan evaded a weapon and let it pass near his body. He caught it with his free hand, and, turning on himself, he lifted the man who screamed from the sudden force sending him flying.

Rohan threw the spear and the man to the side. This one crashed against the green and yellow grass with a muffled yell. One out. The warrior followed this move smoothly and dashed in front of the other opponent.

This one snapped back from the shock he had felt when his companion had been sent flying. He tried to defend himself from the tempest of blows coming his way, but Rohan was putting against him formidable pressure.

His swordsmanship was now nothing in comparison to what it was he was a young boy. Rohan still thought he was weak, and that it was perfectible, but his improvement was easy to see.

With an intricate and powerful gesture from his wrist, the warrior sent the weapon flying in the air before the tip of his sword rested against the throat of his opponent. This morning's training was put to an end.

After these fights, all the members left the area to proceed with their activities, and Rohan headed into the forest for his daily meditation. No one was asking him what he was doing, and no one was trying to find either. Rohan found it a bit strange at first.

A warrior leaving for the forest every morning for seemingly no reason should make them curious, but no one cared about it. Even so, Rohan would pay attention and turn around inside the forest, before sitting on the floor for a short time.

After increasing a bit the size where the vortex would appear and drawing another line on the mana stone, Rohan stood up in the direction of the river.

If Jonas was seeing him at these times, this one would have mocked him for days. What he was doing in this river was of course cleaning himself, but also cleaning up his clothes, a task he had never done in his life. He was doing like he could since he felt too embarrassed to ask anyone. So he was simply there rubbing the clothes he had worn a few minutes earlier.

He then wrung these clothes, put them inside his bag, and left for the camp, with new ones on his back. It was still a habit he had since he was the child of a nobleman, but feeling dirty was making him too uncomfortable.

He reached the camp in no time and headed to the tent of the chief clan where he was lodging when abruptly, a group of children surrounded him.

"Warrior from the other side! Is it true that in your country they eat children alive when they have been naughty? My mother said they are all horrible monsters in the north, isn't it difficult to live there?"

"Warrior Rohan! I've heard that there are huge tents that no one can move made of precious metal and that the people aren't moving around like us, is it true?"

"Warrior Rohan! It is Deidros who had sent us there! He had said we could play with you without any problems!"

Rohan suddenly felt like going to find Deidros to punch one or two times. Or even three.

If there was something he didn't like, it was children. Then again, the five ones in front of him weren't like the ones he was used to. Back when he was living at Rivoiras, he had met a lot of noble families, and among them some monsters a few couples of years old.

He hated them to the core. Without exception. Treated since birth like mighty leaders, as if they were future kings. And the result was obnoxious children, talking at their servants as if they were dogs. Each time he saw one, he always had to suppress the urge to hit them.

At least, the children that were looking at him right now were quite different. They were only five, with two young girls and three young boys. They were all looking straight at him, probably waiting for a reply.

He ignored their stupid questions. He didn't have enough strength on him to take the time to answer. Anyways, his answers would probably be filled with sarcasm, and children weren't a good public for those.

But he couldn't refuse them while they were looking at him with puppy eyes.

Maybe.. Just maybe, he could play along this time.