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Devil's Downfall

What does it truly mean to be a martial artist, what is hidden in the world, what course should he take. Nameless and forgotten life has taught him little more than how to lift his fists. He resigned himself to the undesired work. However luck began to smile, as a upheaval took him away to begin a new life. Yet one should never forget the treacherousness of the world.

kingsdog · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
28 Chs

The slumber of a traveler.

Six hours, I don't know why but I can't leave his house. The doors aren't locked, the windows aren't barred, but something in me wouldn't allow me to leave. Grant didn't wake up, I sorta fear that he might never wake up. But once in a great while, a grunt would come from his mouth, easing my anxiety.

Grants room isn't anything special, he has a desk, a bed and a dresser, not a single electronic can be found not here or in the rest of his house. It didn't surprise me, there are quite a few people now days who just don't care about that stuff. Expressly martial artists, who find it better to train than waste time. I suppose Saints hand is an exception, his house had multiple TVs, phones, and other electronic devices. Although it's not like tv's are that useful, the most you get is local news broadcasts, and perhaps some music every now and again. And phones are a relic, calls are impossible and they are used more for games then anything else, that doesn't mean long range communication is impossible, if you have a good enough mage who can send magic holding a code, or you could use a messaging bird. As to less vital information, it comes from merchants and travelers. 

It starts to grow dark, the reddish orange masterpiece off sunlight shone through the window, with in moments the painting disappeared from the sky, and with it came the silence of night. My eyes fade with the weight of sky resting upon them, the world becomes a blur. Its brilliance lost to my siting sleep. The morning came from my dreamless slumber. Grant still lays on the bed, his eyes wide staring at me like a dead goat. His eyes didn't twitch, they didn't even blink. He stares at me through my soul, the man's eyes didn't wish to move. 

"I was killed?" He finally blinked. "He killed me, and all of the Iron company." He touched his face. "How am I alive, I was sure he cut off my head? You boy, where's everyone, where's the king, where's James?"

"You Markess have been saved by me, I just need to talk to Grant real quick, and then I can tell you all what happened."

"Grant, who is this?" Markess choked on his words.

"Fine, let me tell you then, you have died, and now you're in another world. That's the facts and if you want to see for yourself, just go outside. "