"You don’t rember ?" He asks, his voice layered with a mixture of disdain and poignant hatred.
I don’t reply. I just watched him walk toward , that terribly annoying smile still wide on his lips.
Just who the hell is this fool? He can’t be one of Ralyn’s siblings, can he? No, he can’t. All Steelhearts have white hair. They’re born with it. This guy has black hair.
He takes one slow, asured step forward. "That’s saddening. I thought you and I had a ’history’ together," I don’t know how sothing that’s already ugly can get uglier, but his smile did as it widened more. "Don’t we?" His voice drops low, a mocking tone.
Slowly, I drag my left foot backward. Shaping my stance.
He takes another step. He’s just a few inches away from now.
I crouch low, placing my right foot forward and strengthening it.
Deep in my mind, I visualize a thin line.
That line is on the ground, just a few centiters away from my right foot.
The mont he crosses that line, I won’t care who he is. That nose of his will be broken at the very least. I will bruise him, make his lips bleed, and his tongue bloody. So that he’ll think twice before calling anyone ’disgusting’ again.
My gaze moves away from his face, lowering to catch the sight of his sword. A real, steel sword.
But how would I fight against that? He’s a swordsman. It ans he can wield Tein. That mystical energy that Dinan was toiling with.
I haven’t even learned any type of combat. How would I be able to.. bruise soone who’s probably trained since he was young?
Hmm.
"Say sothing, Ralyn. You’re making feel lonely." His voice cuts through my daze, his figure slowly approaching the line.
It doesn’t matter. I never needed Tein or any type of combat when I dealt with those Xerns back on Earth. What I have is my body, and that itself is a weapon. With my weapon, I will break that nose of his.
I crouch lower, raising my balled-up fist, face level. Covering the two sides of my face with them, I view the bastard through the middle of my raised arms.
"Oh? You want to..." He pauses, his smile fading, his mouth open. Then the smile tugs again, "Pfft," He lets out a genuinely amused chuckle, "You want to attack ?" He asks. "With that clumsy form?" Again, he asks. He’s still walking toward .
He’s too slow.
Just two more steps..
"Hey, you should answer !" He yells out loud, his hand slowly tracing the hilt of his sword.
Just one more step.. co closer..
He gently grabs the hilt of the sword. His fingers were wrapping around it covetously.
I don’t even bother to look at his face anymore.
He has crossed the line.
Shing!
He unsheathes his sword at the sa ti I drag my right hand backward, ready to throw a blow.
"The very mont that sword of yours strikes him will be the last thing you see." A familiar voice rings out. It’s not low, and not high either. It’s sowhere in between, but the feeling of authority the voice oozes is palpable, causing both the bastard and to pause mid swing.
I turn my neck, glancing in the direction of the owner of that authoritative voice.
Dinan. He stands just in front of the stone door, dressed in a blue, informal outfit. His hands are tucked inside the pocket of his blue pants, and his face has that sa neutral expression that makes shiver slightly.
"Tch." The bastard clicks his tongue, sheathing his sword imdiately.
"For what reason did you co here, Maren?" Dinan asks, walking toward him, his pace quick, showing no sign of hesitation.
Maren? Hm. That na.. it isn’t in Ralyn’s diary. He’s not a Steelheart. Then who the hell is this bastard?
The bastard — Maren, I think — slightly bows his head as Dinan stands in front of him.
"Greetings, Vice-Captain. I am here on order from the Patriarch to inform you that the eting with the count of the Hanu province is happening tomorrow, by noon." Maren speaks, fidgeting and smiling awkwardly as he does so. There is an excited edge to the way he speaks, yet that excitent is still laced with fear.
I think they call it reverence.
"Hm, the eting with the Hanu provincial lord," Dinan mutters to himself, his eyes squinted, staring straight at the grass-filled ground. He nods, "Okay. I will prepare. You may go."
"Ah! Yes, sir, I.. I’ll be on my way." Maren says as he turns to give one last dirty glance. Then he turns and walks.
"Before you go, let tell you this," Dinan speaks, and Maren halts imdiately. Not turning, but still listening. Dinan continues, "Ralyn is my student, and I am sure you know what it ans to be under my wing as my student. I will not tolerate any laying of hands on my student. Not from you, not from the other knights, nor from the Steelheart brats." Dinan turns, facing Maren.
He walks toward him and stands at his back. "And if any of you is bold enough to touch my squire despite my warning. Just know this: The mont you touch him, you have crossed . And I have a code that I adhere strictly to. ’Anyone who crosses — no matter who they are — will die by my hands." Dinan touches Maren’s right shoulder.
"My word is my blood." Dinan turns and walks toward , "You may leave." He tells Maren.
Maren bows, "By your word, Vice-Captain." He says with a weak voice, and he imdiately bolts out.
"That should deal with anymore of those annoying pests," Dinan mutters as he dusts his palm.
I have so many questions.
"Sorry, I was late, Ralyn– Young Master, I an. I was dealing with so.. things with the Patriarch." He says. His lips are crooked. A satisfied smile is present on them.
Province, Hanu, Squire.. I have so many things to ask. But first,
"Who was that bastard?" I ask, my voice low, tinged with dormant annoyance.
"Oh, him?" He replies, "Maren Dinarial, the 31st Knight of the Steelhearts, and also your brother — Jian’s best friend. He’s a nobody."
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