The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 123

Chapter 123

Chapter 123: Battles In Various Scenarios

“Wait, you made this sword?” I echoed with obvious skepticism. Since coming across such a mysterious sword, I had often wondered who this W.K IV was. More than once had I scoured through the library of Xyrus Academy in hopes to find the smith with those initials, only to be met with disappointment and a dizzying amount of royal names.

“Was I speaking a different language?” Wren replied curtly, his eyes still inspecting Dawn’s Ballad.

Ignoring his quip, I changed my approach. “Okay, so assuming that you did forge this sword, what was it doing in Dicathen?”

Until now, I had assumed that my sword was of dwarven origin because of their specialty in this craft. A dark, bulky, bear of a man with a thick beard and bulging arms covered with hair and hands hardened with callouses had always come to mind when imagining the maker of Dawn’s Ballad; the typical stereotype associated with smiths and other metalworkers. Instead, this bony man that looked like he’d get tired holding a pen for too long stated that he had forged this sword.

“Dawn’s Ballad was one of my experimental weapons—more or less a failure. I tossed it away in the Beast Glades of your continent on one of my visits to gather minerals, assuming that no one would be able to even tell it was anything other than a black stick, much less open it. To think that it had somehow ended up in your possession...What are the odds?” The asura actually began to calculate the probability of this before I interrupted him.

“A failure? I’ve never seen a sword of better quality and make in my life. What makes it a failure?” I pressed.

“As much as a compliment your words may be, comparing my weapons—no matter how poor in quality—to the primitive tools used by you lesser races only insults me.” He clicked his tongue. “I had forged this sword as more of a one-size-fits-all weapon. I must’ve been drunk when I thought that was a good idea. This sword just came out to be a sharp tool, nothing more, nothing less.” Wren finally pried his eyes off of the sword and exchanged glances at Windsom. “But this makes things interesting.”

Looking over my shoulder, I could see Windsom’s stoic face break into a smile as he replied, “I thought it might. So what do you think after meeting him? Will you do it?”

“What is going on?” I interrupted, lost. I began to grow afraid that the asura might claim back his weapon or even dispose of it completely for the sake of his pride. There was no doubt that I would never find a sword of this quality despite it being a “failure.”

“Arthur, I brought you here to Wren to accomplish two things. The first one, I had mentioned earlier. While his methods are unconventional, Wren has an usually keen eye in the practical theory of combat. The second reason was in hopes that Wren would produce a sword that is a better fit for your own unique form of combat.”

“Is that true?” I turned to Wren. “You’ll really forge a sword for me?”

“I don’t forge swords, brat. I create them. And I only came to train you because I owed a favor to Lord Indrath. His favor didn’t extend to wasting my time, making a sword for a lesser being.” Wren slid Dawn’s Ballad into its scabbard. “Anyways, I’m going to hold onto this sword for now.”

“For now? So you’ll give it back to me?” I confirmed, still apprehensive.

“Boy, Dawn’s Ballad might be just a sharp tool, but it still chose you. I’m not proud of this particular piece, but I’m not going to take it away from you,” he replied. The asura then stretched his arm in front of him and a sword suddenly emerged from the ground below. Grabbing the sword by its hilt, he tossed it to me. “For now, use this while training. I created it to measure the movements the user produces and the force of the impact it receives.”

“And you can just summon it from the ground at any time?” I asked, holding the seemingly normal shortsword in my hands.

“Out of everything I’ve done so far, you’re surprised by this?” Wren shook his head, motioning his hand at me. “Let me also hold onto the dragon feather.”

“What? Why this too?” I retreated, clasping my hand over my arm to cover the white feather.

“Do you find an innate urge to question everything I do?” the hunched asura snapped.

I reluctantly handed over the white feather over to Wren, scratching the scar I received after being bonded to Sylvie. Without the feather to cover it up, I felt bare, as if my skin had been removed.

Wren tucked the feather into his coat. “Now, I’m aware that you lesser beings need much more sleep than we do, so get some rest.”

“Wait, so we’re spending the night out here in the center of this barren crater?” I asked, looking around.

“Who said anything about we? Windsom and I have matters to attend to. And besides, there’s not always going to be a fluffy bed waiting for you during war, so I’m doing this for you.” The asura had a wicked smirk on his face as Windsom conjured a teleportation gate.

“Try to get some rest, Arthur,” Windsom advised just before stepping into the gate.

As the glowing runes making the teleportation circle faded, it grew eerily quiet. The occasional whistles of wind were the only sounds to be heard as I let out a sigh. Slipping my dusty clothes back on, I conjured up two slabs of earth to form a makeshift tent.

I must’ve knocked out as soon as laid my head against the pile of rocks I had gathered because a violent tremble caused me to smack my head against my stone pillow, jolting me awake in pain. I lowered the stone tent that I had created to be startled by the sight of countless golems encircled around my camp. Each of them wielded a different weapon but they all raised their weapons above their stone heads and swung down in unison.

My body acted on autopilot as I instinctively raised a dome of earth to protect me. With an explosive thud, the dome had crumbled and the debris fell on top of me. I was still dazed by the situation when Wren’s amplified voice resounded from above.

“You will never truly be at rest while you’re in the middle of a war, kid. You need to get used to fighting effectively in a suboptimal state. Now, strip your clothes and resume battle.”