The Master of Uradan

No more than thirty karags were currently pulling their carts in the middle of the desert. It was the only brown beasts that had survived the massacre of this night, and inside those were the almost two hundred clan members. Two-thirds of them were from the Blackwolf clan while the last one was from the Greybat clan.

Under the leadership of the clan leader, there was no problem between the former members of the Blackwolf and Greybat clans. They had all lived through the same hell, and this experience had instead wilded these people together.

Rohan was currently sitting inside one of the carts. Unfortunately, when he had found his horse, this one was already dead. He was sad for having lost this horse, but he felt sadder at the prospect of returning the news to Delia.

From the beginning of this trip, it was almost a dream for him to enter one of those carts. The sole reason for that was for protection from the sun, but now that he sat on the wooden planches trembling and shaking, it reminded him of the carriages. Rohan had always hated these uncomfortable transports, but compared with what he was sitting on, he felt that he had been too harsh.

He almost couldn't prevent himself from jumping out and walking along with the karags.

In front of him, with a blank face in a daze, a little girl was sitting there. She hadn't talked a single time and had only moved like a doll when the time to leave had come.

Rohan turned away his eyes and looked at the rear of the carts. A trail of dark smoke went up in the sky. It was the fire they had set up to release the dead bodies from their torment. They had lived all their lives inside the Barren Lands, and they had died there.

Seeing the reaction of this girl who had lost all her family in a single night, Rohan thought about himself. It was normal to be in such a shock after leaving through it, and she was still young, no more than ten years old.

But for him, he was now so numbed to see all these deaths that he felt like he couldn't feel them anymore. Seeing the dead bodies of the people he had seen every day rendered him sorrowful s, but it was a light emotion. Deep inside him, he felt that it was simply meant to be.

His father was dead, his guards were dead, thousands and thousands of people died in front of him.

A time ago, he could hear the screams of these soldiers burning simply by closing his eyes. But now, it felt so far away. It was only more than two years ago, but even so, it was enough to decrease his emotions.

He was only a boy of sixteen years old in the end, and rare were the people who had seen as many deaths as him in their whole life. For a curious reason, he thought that it was only the beginning and that he will have to see much more. He had to kill this Old Monster at some point after all, and such a deed wouldn't be done without spilling some blood before.

On the contrary with this little girl, he felt the young man sitting beside was more resembling him. He was there, watching the horizon while lost in thoughts. Rohan didn't remember if he had heard his name or not, but this man was the son of the fighter from the Greybat clan.

Rohan wondered what he was thinking since he traveled with them. To wake up in the morning only to see the killer of his father at some step away from him, laughing and enjoying life. He wondered what was his emotions when he realized this warrior was now dead, killed by the dracasses.

Maybe he was feeling happy to have his revenge, or maybe angry because he couldn't do it himself.

Rohan shook his head and chased away his reflections. He turned his head to the other side, and his eyes fell on the back of the driver, as silent as the other two. Rohan knew this man, and he even had talked to him a few times.

It was Barulf. He was the one who always loved to see him come back from the hunt as the skin was always in a perfect state. The man wasn't someone to speak a lot, but now a strange grievous aura had enveloped him. He had lost his wife during the slaughter.

This cart was thus full of broken people, and Rohan suddenly had the ridiculous urge to laugh out loud. He contained himself.

The few carts continued forward every day in the same direction. Even though they had escaped a deathly situation, they couldn't back away. They needed to reach the gathering of the clans at the Kolmos mountain.

Darias perfectly knew what would happen once they entered the central ring, ruled by the four great clans. His clan was in the top three in the external ring and was quite strong even for the internal ring. Once they would appear in front of all the other clans, with so few members, everyone would believe they were done for.

They would pounce on them like dracasses, Darias was sure of that. No one would dare to provoke them into a duel while the gathering took place, but no one would have such qualms after.

He didn't hide this situation from Rohan, since he was the strongest of them. The response of Rohan was to simply shrug. He already knew the strongest of the internal clans was an Intermediate Warrior. The chance from this one to personally act was low and other than him, no one was a threat for Rohan.

At least, the rule of clans was slightly protecting the rest as it would be his role to duel if they are targeted. Of course, that was only the case if the clans believed it would be too hard to kill everyone.

The rule of the clans was that once they met in the desert, only the duel against two fighters was permitted. The choice of the fighter was left for the leader, but their honor was in-game, and they generally didn't choose the worst.

The only reason the clans didn't break this rule was because of the four great clans. If they decided to plunder a rival clan, but a mistake happened and one of them survived, that could truly be the end for the clan that had dared to attack.

In the end, if a clan believed to be strong enough to kill everyone without letting any survivors, a clan could simply disappear like that, and no one would ever know what had taken place.

That was why the risk right now was real. With only two hundred members in this pitiful state, as well as the well-known Garrold with a limb missing, the other clans would easily assume they were weak, and maybe some of them wouldn't hesitate to launch an assault against them.

Thus, the remnant of the Blackwolf and Greybat clan traveled with a gloomy aura following them, as each step got them closer to potential doom.