Vol.8 Ch.211- Speaking With Fire.

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---

Waking up the following morning was not a pleasant experience. It was a dreamless sleep, and I woke up slightly disoriented with heavy, tired eyes. I repositioned myself slightly in bed, but my body felt just as drained as when I closed my eyes.

I sighed to myself, shut my eyes tight, and tried to get even a minute of sleep, but it would not come to greet me. I was awake for good. Just to make matters worse, there wasn't even a glint of sunlight streaking through the windows. I mustered my strength and quietly slipped out of bed, avoiding Mila and Sylvia the best I could.

It was far too early to round people up and head out. Everyone needed what little sleep they could get. Because in the coming days, I had a feeling that sleep would be a luxury.

After getting ready only the bare minimum, I left the room to see if I could find Squeaks. I passed by Cerila and decided to check on her. I knelt down, felt her face, and was satisfied to see and hear her sleeping peacefully for the first time in many days. Whatever Sylvia had done had been enough, it seemed.

I left entirely, closing the door quietly behind me. The hallway was silent and dark, minus the torches flickering from the guard patrols. I knew where I needed to go in the palace and, with the help of a guard, was led outside to an old, small stone hut.

The sounds of metal banging against metal spewed from the secluded building as black smoke bellowed out the chimneys. I genuinely wondered why there was just a tiny forge randomly set in a yard on the palace grounds, but I figured it was either to repair simple items or just built on a whim long ago.

Either way, I gave the door a solid knock, silencing the banging as a set of heavy footsteps trotted over and opened the door. An entirely bald Dwarf answered and looked up at me.

"It's been a while, Squeaks," I said.

He just grunted at me, looked around behind me, and waved for me to come in. The inside of the small hut was blazing hot, and sweat dripped down my face almost immediately, yet Squeaks didn't appear to be bothered in the slightest.

The forge itself was as I imagined it to be, tiny. I wouldn't exactly say it was fit for a master craftsman, let alone a renowned Runesmith.

"I heard about your family…sorry," Squeaks mumbled from behind me.

I sat on a wooden stool and nodded slowly. "Thank you for your concern. I heard you were attacked as well. Are you okay?"

The stout man shrugged as he sat down opposite me with a groan. "Nothing I haven't experienced before. You know what it's like being a slave. Dying and fighting is all part of it."

That is true…but he is acting somewhat different from usual. It must have shaken him up quite a bit. Or maybe he is just tired, and everything that has happened is weighing down on him.

I know that's how many people must feel right now.

"Any reason you are up so early?" Squeaks casually asked me.

"Probably the same reasons you are," I said.

He chuckled weakly. "Yeah…"

"I have to thank you, though. The Wyrm scale mail you made saved the life of a friend. She would have died without it," I told him, bowing my head slightly.

"Good. That's what it's meant to do…well, I mean, I didn't exactly want your friend to almost die or anything," he said with a weak chuckle.

"Yeah, I know…"

An awkward silence filled the quiet forge. Only the crackling of embers and the roar of the fire filled the tiny space.

Finally, Squeaks broke the silence. "I'm guessing you didn't just come here to chat. Padraic said you planned on leaving for the West. Something about the undead spilling out of the Iron Citadel."

"It appears that may be a real threat," I agreed.

"I'll be coming with you. Everyone needs more weapons and armor," he offered.

"I appreciate it. All hands are welcome hands at this point. But that isn't why I'm here. In truth, I destroyed the weapon you made for me. There isn't a single thing left of it," I admitted.

Squeaks sighed and gave me a playful grin. "Well, that's what happens when you fight people capable of destroying an entire city. But good thing I accounted for that."

"Wait…you made me another weapon?" I questioned.

"You seem like the type of guy to lose an arm just to win a fistfight. I figured having a backup wouldn't hurt, so in my free time, I made my own version of your spear," he said with a shrug.

"I—I cannot deny that. Either way, I'm relieved. I thought I was going to have to borrow something from somewhere," I said.

"I'll have to find the Spatial Ring it's in. I left it in my room…let's just hope someone didn't get their greasy fingers on it," he chuckled.

Squeaks shook his head and snickered to himself as he stood up. "As if His Majesty wouldn't personally let you into the armory to choose whatever you wanted whenever you wanted."

Squeaks shoved the metal into the roaring fire. It looked to be a simple shovel head—the kind you could find anywhere. The heat ramped up as the fire licked the sides of the stone forge.

"Yes…he may have let me do that," I admitted.

Squeak's eyebrowless eyes raised as he turned slowly toward me. "No…did they really…?" he trailed.

"He's severely injured but alive," I explained.

Squeaks pulled his leather apron up and rubbed his face in disbelief. "This world is getting flipped on its head, Kaladin…"

"Yes…yes, it is," I said, standing up.

"I understand the school is on heavy lockdown. I'll have some guards escort you so you can go to your room and gather your things. I don't mean to rush you, but I plan on leaving before midday today."

Squeaks grunted. "I'll be ready before then." He turned to me as I was walking out and asked, "But where are you going now?"

"I have someone I need to speak with," I explained.

—

"Sir! The Dragonslayer has requested to see you!" the Royal Guard shouted at the door.

"Let him in," a deep, gruff voice answered.

The guard opened the door for me, and I walked in. Sitting at a large table was a man I had never actually spoken to despite meeting him many times. He was large and muscular, but his face was marked with small wrinkles underneath his eyes. His black hair was cut short with a few strands of gray, and his mustache and beard were trimmed to perfection.

War God Vasquez maintained an intense and serious aura about him whenever I saw him. He moved, felt, and looked like a soldier. Even while eating breakfast alone.

His dark, swirling brown eyes looked me up and down. "Hungry?" he asked.

"I wouldn't mind eating," I said.

"Then sit."

I went to sit down a few seats away from him, but he shook his head and pointed to the seat right next to him. Awkwardly, I sat down, and he flipped over the dinner plate at the empty seat and immediately scooped half a portion of his meal right onto mine without even asking me.

"Eat, then we'll talk," he grunted.

"I can just wait—"

He shot me a glare. "Growing men need to eat. I'll just have them make us more. So eat. Do you like Jinx Beans?"

Coffee? Ah…

"I don't dislike it—I…" I trailed off.

From a pitcher, he poured the steaming dark brown liquid into a mug. He looked up at me and raised an eyebrow. "You like it sweet, right? How much milk and sugar?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. There was no way for him to know I enjoyed sweet things. We had never even exchanged simple greetings before, let alone my food preference.

Was this some kind of threat? To say he was watching me or something?

He dumped a few cubes of sugar into the liquid alongside a pour of milk and started to stir it with a spoon. "Don't take it too literally, Kaladin Shadowheart. You frequent the same bakery in town that I do. Your name comes up often there. I, too, as well as my wife like Syn'nari sweetbread. That is the only place in the capital that makes it close enough to the real stuff."

I relaxed slightly, but the man gave me a serious glare through his thick eyebrows. "Although, in my opinion, you are buying too much…please leave some for the rest of us," he complained as he slid the cup toward me.

I took a sip of the usually bitter drink, but it was now quite sweet. The intense bitterness was gone, and just like when Bowen served me, it was quite good. "I'll have to keep that in mind…" I said, somewhat surprised at the joke.

War God Vasquez nodded and began digging into his breakfast. The man's entire plate didn't exactly fit his noble title. Instead, it was straightforward. Just a large serving of grain that resembled oatmeal, a small serving of meat, which he shared with me, and some dried fish.

The two of us ate in relative silence, only being interrupted by a server bringing us water or removing the plates once we finished. We finished around the same time as he wiped his mouth with a cloth.

He turned his attention to me and asked, "So? What brings you here? It's rather early."

"I've come to make a request of you, Lord Vasquez," I said seriously.

"I see…what is it?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"I need you to muster troops and head west. The undead are going to break out from—"

"Okay, I'll do it," he interrupted suddenly.

I blinked once. "Excuse me?"

"I'll do it. I'll muster the available troops who are not culling the rebels and gather them in Curia," he said without hesitation.

"…Why are you trusting me so brazenly? Don't you have any questions at all?" I asked in disbelief.

"His Majesty trusts you. So I trust you. You wouldn't suddenly lead people astray when you've come this far," he said simply.

"I—I genuinely think there is more reason to question me now more than ever," I pointed out.

Lord Vasquez grunted. "I don't. You've lost too much. You aren't a spineless coward like that bastard Parhen who would betray his family for glory, fame, or fortune. And if I can't put some faith in the man who slayed a Dragon, who has been nothing but genuine in the face of everything, who's been a solid pillar of this kingdom, then…I don't know who or what to put my trust in anymore."

I couldn't help but be astonished at his glowing review of me. The man hardly knew me yet he so fervently believed in me. I had come here expecting to beg for support if it came down to…

"Besides, gathering our forces is essential, regardless of your words. There's more food in Curia now, and if there are no monsters coming to strike us down, then that's all the better. I'll lead the kingdom's men to put down the rebels in the countryside and restore order," Vasquez stated.

Yet…even though he says that…why do I get the feeling he isn't being completely honest? Is it because he's always with Xander?

I wonder…

"There's more to it, isn't there? Why?" I questioned.

Lord Vasquez averted his eyes for the first time. "I—I believe your words because it sounds plausible to me."

"What? That a horde of the undead are coming for us?" I pressed.

"Yes. Reports of increased monster activity are not to be taken lightly, especially in such a large and unknown dungeon that is the Iron Citadel…and…there is more," he said, sounding unsure of himself.

I waited for him to continue, and he looked directly into my eyes with a cold gaze. "This is all in connection to the Holy Kingdom, isn't it? They have their filthy fingers in everything, and I—no matter how insane it sounds, I believe they can control monsters to do their bidding."

"What makes you so sure? It sounds like you have experience…" I said.

He blew air from his nostrils and scratched his beard. "Do you know what Basilisks are?"

"Monsters that frequent bodies of inland water around Tel'an'duth. They are reptilian in nature and are considered aggressive and violent, attacking in large groups. They have no fear of people whatsoever and are attracted to corpses and blood."

"Then you know more than most. A pack of them can take out a small village with ease. During the war many years ago, we had Holy Kingdom mercenaries. Just a small group of healers, really. We got reports that a group of Basilisks were coming our way, over fifty of them. Our company had just been attacked, and we lost many men. It was a bad situation to be in."

"However, they never came. Scouts reported that they avoided us altogether despite having many wounded. We were even carting the corpses of the fallen. In every instance, we should have been attacked," he explained with closed eyes.

"This seems like a wild connection, even to me," I admitted.

Yet, Lord Vasquez shook his head. "No. Because when we reformed, and those healers left us for another group, we were attacked by those same monsters just days later. We had even more fresh bodies at that point. I don't entertain such fantasies that we were lucky or that the monsters simply avoided us. For the longest time, I had my doubts…now they appear to be correct."

"I see…" I mumbled.

Lord Vasquez put a finger to the table as he stood up. "Stay here for a moment. I want to find some people."

—

"This is Baron Carbo, Baron Felix, and Count Gavia. I trust them. We fought together in the war, and all three of these men will assist you immediately as I gather the main army," Lord Vasquez explained.

Lord Vasquez had been gone for no less than twenty minutes but returned with three nobles. None of them strikes me as incredibly impressive, and they all had relatively low noble titles. But there was one thing all three men had in common.

They are former soldiers.

Count Gavia, the oldest of the three, extended a hand. "It's an honor to be in your presence again, Sir Shadowheart."

I shook his hand and, with a nod, said, "And thank you for hearing me out on such short notice."

Count Gavia waved my concern away. "Please, no modesty is needed. To be requested for assistance by the hero of the kingdom is our pleasure."

"Combined, these three nobles have a standing army of ten thousand with another five in reserve. All of them can be dispatched to Curia immediately and within a week," Lord Vasquez said.

I looked at the three nobles, and they just smiled and nodded at me. Baron Felix gave me a slight bow and said, "Will you be leading our troops, Sir Shadowheart?"

"No, I have no intentions of leading any armies anywhere. Please lead your own forces. I'll arrive at Curia first and prepare things beforehand," I said sternly.

Count Gavia chuckled. "As honorable as I've heard. Imagine if every young man denied the glory of leading his own army…"

There's no honor in my decisions, though…I just don't want to be responsible for all their lives.

I'm not here to play commander…not anymore.

"Then we shall leave promptly and meet you in Curia, Lord Shadowheart," Baron Felix said with a bow.

The three nobles took their leave, leaving just me and Lord Vasquez. I came here expecting to fight for anything I could get. Yet three nobles just pledged to send their own regional armies to assist me without even asking me any questions.

Is this the power of a hero? Can someone truly make such outlandish requests? Or…

I looked at the side of Lord Vasquez's face.

Is it because of him?

…

This confuses me even more. Just what are Prince Xander and Vasquez trying to accomplish in Luminar?

—

A lonely border guard named Shael's POV. Western Luminar.

"Hey…you've heard about all those bandits, right? Chief took two thousand men to go kill some bandits," Ruith asked me with a nudge.

"Yeah, it's kinda tricky not to hear about it. Everyone's talking about the rebels and bandits," I groaned.

"You think we're going to war again?" Ruith asked.

"Probably. Why wouldn't we?" I said with a shrug.

"Damn…with who?" Ruith questioned

I turned and looked at the man in confusion. "How am I supposed to know?" I waved my hands into the darkness of the tunnel, banishing the shadows with torchlight. "Does it look like we are going to figure it out in this crappy place?"

"Well…I guess you're right. But if it's the City States, we may be the first line of defense…those in front like this never last long," he mumbled to himself.

"Then you picked a really bad job to work, Ruith. Still think those papers are worth it?" I chuckled.

Ruith grumbled some profanities under his breath and kicked a rock. "Better be. I only have a few more months left…damn this sucks. I really don't want to die in some war."

"Please don't say stuff like that…we are in the same squad, and if you die, then I'm probably going down with you. So, please…just shut up before something actually bad happens," I begged.

Ruith slapped me on the back hard, making me take a step forward. "Ah! Come on, it won't be that bad!"

How—how does this guy go from worrying about dying to just laughing…what a crazy guy…

"Have you lost your mind? I mean—wow…"

Rumble.

Rumble.

The ground began shaking violently. The gray stone walls kicked up dust as chunks began falling from the ceiling. The shaking of dungeons happened from time to time, but this one felt… different…way stronger.

I brought my shield up over my head to protect myself, and larger and larger chunks fell down on us. "Hey! Isn't this really bad!" Ruith yelled.

"It is! Let's run for it back to the walls!" I shouted.

I sprinted ahead; the run back to the garrison walls would take a few minutes. But with mana-enhanced steps, the torchlight suddenly greeted us, and after a few minutes of sprinting for our lives, we managed to get back safely. But the world around us was still shaking.

"Is the entire mountain coming down?! Did somebody piss Keldrag off?!" Ruith shouted.

"Who cares!" I yelled back, banging on the door. "Let us in damn it!"

But for some reason…there wasn't a response.

What in the world…

"This isn't a joke! Let us in!" I screamed.

Suddenly, the side door flung open, and a panicked guard looked at us with wide eyes. "We! We are under attack on the other side!"

"What?!" Ruit and I yelled in unison. "Who invaded us?! Whieland?!"

"No! The undead! They—oh no…" the guard muttered as they backed away.

Their eyes looked ready to fall out from their skull, and when I followed their sight, my heart sank. The walls…the floors…even the ceiling…it was all covered in the undead of every type…

"Collapse the tunnel! Do it!" Ruith shouted as he bolted past the guard.

"The mages are fighting at the front gates!" the guard stammered as they shut the door and dropped the hatch.

Damn…we really are going to die.