The Journey Begins

Aron always had some food tucked away.

Even though the cadets ate a lot, when Aron used his aura, it caused him to be ravenous. As a result, he always ate more, which the current Count never liked.

After the death of the previous Count, Aron's auntie died a month later. She was the Count's second wife and had no children. From the moment of her death, Aron was left to fend for himself.

The new Count had always disliked him and was looking for new excuses to get rid of him. The young Count Komes was the child of the old Count's first marriage, and he had never liked his stepmother, Aron's aunt, either.

Aron had come to terms with the awful treatment long ago. He knew that he owed a lot to the Count's father, and he did not hate the young Count, but he would gladly punch him in the face if he could.

Today, however, he had finally qualified to become a knight. He was now an iron knight without land or gold and nothing at all, but he was now an iron knight! That fact was the most important thing for him.

"Karl, could you take these books to the library for me, I'm afraid I won't have time, and I don't know when I'll be back to this flea-filled place?" He asked, crunching down on an apple and throwing things on the bed.

"Of course, it will be my pleasure, Sir Knight!" Karl laughed and then became serious.

"Doesn't it seem strange that they tell you to pack right away? Something is clearly wrong... You have seen the instructors armor yourself as if they were getting ready for a fight."

"Well, it's a bit strange, especially the magister. I have not heard of a magister examining knights in such a crap school. But that just means I did not have to fool around and duel with these buffoons. Okay, I have to pack; help me with my gambeson." He interrupted arguments and was already putting on the gambeson with Karl's help.

Aron didn't have many belongings that he could call his own. He loaded a linen pouch with underwear, an old cotehardie, a woolen robe, an old leather water bag, and a few apples.

The most important thing for him was a family memento. It was a small wooden rectangle with the coat of arms of the Arden family painted over it, its size similar to a small book. He didn't know why, but his aunt told him to always carry it wherever he went.

"I'm packed, thanks, Karl."

"I'm willing to always help my friend. And well, it's probably time to invest in new armor, don't you think?" Karl laughed and then pulled on the last strap of Aron's gambeson.

Dressed in a training gambeson with a chipped bronze sword at his side, he put on the gambeson's quilted hood and was ready to go.

Maybe he did not look like a knight, but he was no longer a cadet. He left the knighthood school's tabard on the bed and went to the exit with a linen pouch on his shoulder.

"Wait, where's the farewell to your old friend? Take this, I know it's not much, but you will need it." Karl handed over a leather pouch in which a few coins were jingling.

"Karl, thank you for everything, good luck, and I hope the next time we see you, you'll be a knight too. Take care!"

"Good luck, Aron; you will pay me back twofold! Now I will be the master of this room. See you!" Karl patted the shoulder of Aron, who moments later was already crossing the gate of the school.

He has spent the last five years there. Not always everything was fine, but he learned many different things from aura cultivation to swordsmanship and horse riding.

Outside, one of the instructors was waiting for him behind the gate, along with Sorel, who was now clad in chain mail. Next to them stood two beautiful horses wearing copiers.

As soon as he saw Aron, Sorel burst out laughing but didn't say a word. At that moment, another instructor arrived from the side of the castle, got off his horse, and walked over to Aron. He had a frayed black belt with an iron tip over his outstretched hand.

"The count congratulates you on achieving the status of a knight, kneel!" Aron knelt in front of Knight Mikita, who drew his sword.

"By order of the Count, I make you an iron knight of the Kingdom of Rogar."

The sword struck forcefully against his arms and head. Aron was glad that he didn't manage to remove the hood because otherwise, he would've had a tumor on his head.

"Live and die with honor, or something like that, put on this belt and go to the stables; the Count gave you his old horse as a gift. When you're done, go to the castle gate. The master has assigned us an important task, and even someone as weak as you will be needed. Move!"

Aron was boiling with anger, having just been knighted in the mud next to the stable by an iron knight of common origin. Can there be something worse? He bit his anger, got up, dusted his knees, and girded himself with a new belt.

Belt in society determines wealth, and you can guess from the accessories the aura level of the wearer. If you see bronze accessories at the end of the belt, the wearer is probably a bronze warrior, and when iron, it is a knight. People without aura were prohibited from decorating the end of the belt with any metalwork.

Aron, now with a knight belt, went to the stable right next to the gate.

As soon as he entered, he saw an old grey gelding who was rather torn off from the plow than was the Count's horse. Yet he didn't complain about it, he got a horse, and you don't look in the teeth of donated horses.

He adjusted the bronze stirrups, changed the saddle, and led the horse out of the stables. The rest of the knights had already left, so he had to speed up to get near the castle and catch them.

The town of Komes was not too big, and the road from the knight's school to the Count's castle took him a few minutes. The castle had its better times behind it. However, the large gate and the square bergfried, together with the towers, still intimidated and constituted an excellent defensive point.

In front of the gate to the castle stood the young Count, a dozen armed men, and the magister. On the sides of the magister stood two new figures dressed in chain mail and helmets

Sorel knelt in front of Count on the stone steps beside the knights that arrived before him. Aron concluded that the Count had made him a knight with full honors from the seriousness of those present.

Aron approached the assembly. In front of proud knights dressed in chainmail, he looked worse than the poor footman who stole the peasant's horse. Even the Count's footmen looked better. When he got off the horse ceremony ended.

Sorel came from one of the wealthiest families on the eastern fringes. The only tin mine in the entire east was located in their territory. Some believed that baron Degrlund was richer than Count Komes.

"Rise, iron knight Sorel Degrlund, accept this steel sword as part of my congratulations," said the Count.

"Thank you, Count Komes." Sorely stood up, nodded his head, and girded himself with a richly decorated belt to which he attached a scabbard with the new sword.

"Well, since all the formalities are over, it's time for departure. All preparations are over. Let's go, men." The magister cleared his throat with little bits of wine.

Aron did not even have time to pay homage to the Count when they all got on their horses, and they passed by, ignoring him.

"I'm sorry, master magister, but I could not bring more knights in such a short time. If the matter were not so urgent, I would have provided you with more than 20 knights in two days." The Count said and came closer to the magister.

"Those here will be enough, although I do not know if there is any use from that." The old man pointed at Aron, who barely kept up with the retinue.

"Dead Wastestland can be very dangerous." The Count laughed and rode his horse so close that he almost leaned over the magister.

"If he didn't come back, I wouldn't cry much for him. It's a parasite and pig heart, and I was surprised that he would reach the level of an iron aura."

Aron had heard most of the Count's conversation, and he could barely contain his anger and humiliation.

The procession was moving slowly through the dirty streets of Komes. The town did not have any defensive walls, and it looked like it was built without any order or plans. The city bordered Dead Wasteland, where, as he heard moments earlier, is the destination of their journey.