“Just happened to be wandering by when I heard a ruckus,” Vir said.
“That so?” the Chitran guard asked, eyeing up Vir. “Badge?”
This was the moment Vir dreaded.
Vir had asked Cirayus if he could obtain a Calling badge in advance, but each badge was engraved with the name of the bearer in a very specific, ornate way. Forging one was nearly impossible without an extreme level of skill. Being caught with a forgery was far, far worse than having none at all.
No, Vir would have to rely on every acting lesson he’d learned in the Human Realm if he wanted a chance of bluffing his way past.
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking? Since when did honorable Chitran warriors harass little kids?”
“Little kids who broke the law, showing their faces where Laborers aren’t allowed.” The guards all tensed. “Now, I believe I asked for your badge…”
For going where they weren’t allowed? Vir thought incredulously. Even if it were the case, the guards’ punishment had been far too severe. No, they were enjoying this. Every last moment.
“Been gone for a spell,” Vir said, shrugging. “I’m afraid the Phantomblades and Ash Wolves took all of my belongings. You never know how it goes when you’re fighting one of those. You understand, right? The Ashen Realm is a mean place, deeper in.”
The guards, who’d been flustered and angry just moments prior, changed their attitude in an instant, though Vir wasn’t entirely sure to what.
Vir wasn’t yet familiar with their monkey-like expressions, which complicated his performance. Reading facial expressions was part and parcel of the actor’s toolbox, and Vir hadn’t learned what a monkey’s expressions meant.
“You’ve… fought in the Ashen Realm?” the guard asked. The suspicion in his tone was obvious, though there was something else, too. Wariness.
Good. I can use that.
Vir nodded slowly. “Neel—of Ash.”
Well, Neel old buddy, I guess you’re a demonic Warrior of the Ash, now, Vir thought wryly.
“Of Ash?” the guard said doubtfully. “You? You’re what, not even forty years of age? Yet you claim to be of the Ash? You dare cast off your clan?”
“No such thing,” Vir said. “I merely wish to show the extent of my accomplishments there. I entered the Ash as a Clan demon. I returned as someone more. My age should only prove my capabilities.”
Vir guessed the guard had misread his age by virtue of how slowly demons aged once they reached adulthood. That, and the chances of a teen becoming a Warrior of Ash were infinitesimal.
“I hope you don’t expect us to believe your story on faith alone,” another guard said, sauntering up to Vir. His gear was a little nicer, and his helm had a red plume sticking up out of it.
“You’re the leader?” Vir asked.
“That I am. And I’m afraid we cannot let your claims stand. We require proof.”
Vir nearly groaned. He knew where this was going. “A test, then?”
The monkey demon smiled. “You see, we don’t get nearly enough practice around these parts. And there’s something about sparring that lacks… stakes, if you get my meaning? I imagine a mighty Warrior of the Ash would give my men quite the challenge. Don’t you think?”
“Fine. Let’s get this over with,” Vir said with a sigh.
“You won’t fault us for going three-on-one against you, yes? Such numbers ought to be child’s play for Warrior of Ash.”
Vir did his best not to roll his eyes. “I don’t mind,” he said, then turned to Darsh and Hetal. “You two better leave. No need for you to get caught up in this.”
“O-okay,” Hetal said but was interrupted by her brother.
“Are you kidding me?” Darsh exclaimed. “And miss a fight between a Warrior of Ash and a bunch of Kothis? I’d rather eat Ash’va dung than miss this!”
The boy’s colorful language prompted a chuckle out of Vir. “Fine, but make sure you stay well away. I don’t want to explain to your mother why either of you got hurt.”
Darth nodded vigorously, even as he stepped closer to Vir. His sister pulled him back, stopping only when they were a solid thirty paces away.
They weren’t the only ones watching—a throng of demons now surrounded them, crowding in from all around the plaza.
Well, good thing I’m in disguise, Vir thought. He really didn’t want to be causing a scene so soon after entering the city, but there was little to be done about it now.
Besides, this’ll be a good opportunity to see how demons fight.
Vir turned to the lead guard and gripped his katar. “Don’t blame me if your unit’s unfit to resume their stations after.”
The monkey grinned. “Oh, you won’t need to worry about that.”
Vir cracked his neck, returning the grin in full.
“It’s your funeral.”
The monkey’s smile dimmed slightly.
Hmm. This might actually be fun…
11HOPE FOR THE LOST
So, how should I play this? Vir thought, facing down the three Chitran guards. The captain was notably not taking part, choosing instead to oversee this duel. No doubt he expected this to be a beat-down.
Each fighter wore the same armor—a small, tight gambeson cuirass under chainmail that covered their biceps and thighs, leaving their forearms and legs open.
Two wielded talwars and round dhol shields, while one wielded a poleaxe. Overall, a solid setup.
Vir wasn’t about to let slip even the faintest hint that he was the Akh Nara. Which meant Dance of the Shadow Demon was off the table. Only abilities that were reasonably similar to tattoos were safe. Luckily, tattoos embodied abstract powers, and while some demons preferred to show off the tattoos on their bare bodies—Vir thought of Cirayus—exhibiting body art didn’t seem to be a core part of demonic culture.
Which meant Vir could get away with a lot, so long as he conserved his prana and fought efficiently.
Let’s see how they fight first, Vir thought.
Though Vir had learned many lessons in the Ashen Realm, one reigned above them all. One’s ability to safely and reliably defeat enemies hinged less on one’s power and more on their understanding of the opponent’s strengths and weaknesses.
Yes, Vir had gained Prana Current and other boons, but his knowledge of Phantomblade weak spots gained from fighting dozens of battles—each time honing his tactics and timing—that was what let him annihilate those beasts.
The guards fanned out, with the shield-bearers attempting to flank him. It wasn’t a bad strategy—while they heckled him, the poleaxe wielder could sneak in strikes.
Vir, of course, didn’t let them. He backed away and circled every time they tried, forcing them in front of him.
A shield-bearer made the first move, thrusting with his talwar. A probing attack to see how Vir would react.
He barely moved, twisting his arm just enough to allow the weapon to whizz by.
The monkey demon frowned, and Vir barely suppressed a smirk.
While Vir had avoided the attack, he couldn’t blame his foe for mistaking it as a coincidence.
His partner attacked, and again, Vir barely avoided the blow. This time, it was accompanied by a sneaky attack from the poleaxe wielder.
Vir allowed himself to fall, avoiding it. Turning his momentum into a reverse somersault, Vir sprang back up to his feet a few paces away.
“Are you trying to hit me?” Vir goaded. “Or was all that just for show?”
“You dare! I’ll show you just—”
“Stop,” the poleaxe wielder said, regarding Vir with a curious expression. “So, you’re the real deal, then?”