Chapter 23: Start of a new life

Horim was standing in his bedroom, leaning over a simple wooden table. Above, a large map holded by his large hands was spreading on this simple furniture.

This map was describing the entire southern part of the continent. It focused almost entirely on the Barren Lands, which took up more than three-quarters of the paper.

Of course, not everyone could own such a map! Even Duke Chrisfold in the Duchy of Barnes could only get one describing the Empire of Elyria, and it had cost him dearly.

Depicted at the top of the map, was the Empire of Elyria to the west, with its three vassal kingdoms, with the ocean to its left. To its right, with a border common to the kingdom of Daksida, another empire stood there. Even further to the right, stood a large area of ​​mountain range: the kingdom of the dwarves. The area beyond these mountains was grayed out on the map. A forbidden zone.

To the south of each of these territories, covering almost a third of the entire continent, was the Barren Lands, the location this map focused on. A deserted land, with a fauna almost nonexistent and a flora far from being varied. That was the kind of place where you could walk into a forest for hours before encountering a desert spreading in a large area.

In the Barren Lands, there were no countries strictly speaking, only nomadic clans in perpetual wars. The smallest ones consisted of barely a hundred individuals, while the largest clans numbered several tens of thousands of inhabitants. But one thing was inevitable due to the lack of mana: there was very little mana user.

In the middle of these lands, standing with all its might, was one of the highest mountains in the world: Mount Kolmos.

There was a time when the most powerful ones on the continent knew about a secret related to this mountain, and eventually, with more and more people in the know, this secret was no longer really one.

Instead, it had become a myth.

The reason it became a myth was because in the heart of this mountain, it was said that there was a secret explaining the lack of mana in the desert lands of the south.

But the problem was that no one could enter this place, and even the most powerful ones could only watch from afar. The reason was simple: it was said that to get inside, you had to be able to manipulate the outside mana, a deed that was thought to be impossible.

Horim lifted his head from the map, stroking his beard, and thought back to the boy. He was a nobleman, he was sure of that. It could be seen completely in his way of standing and moving, someone who has had a peaceful life for a large part of his life. These kinds of habits tend to stay with the noble all their lives.

He was also sure of something else: he had already killed someone, it could be seen in his eyes. Perhaps there was remorse in it too, but a rage that begged to explode was as visible to Horim as the light of a lighthouse in the middle of the night.

For a moment, the image of a corpse lying in its own blood appeared in his mind. A young woman with golden hair, tinged with the red of her blood, was lying down, her lifeless eyes staring straight at him. Like an eternal reproach.

CRAC.

The table cracked in two before breaking like a common twig under the force of Horim's blow.

He sighed for a long time and shook his head to regain his senses.

He would wait for the young man to wake up and he would quietly wait for the answer to his question. And if he doesn't like that answer, then he would kill him without hesitation.

Darkness. A black so intense that it seemed to attract everything around him. Rohan, who was in the middle of this void, felt nothing. He couldn't see his body, he couldn't see anything. In fact, he couldn't even feel it, as if he was just a soul floating in an absolute emptiness.

Suddenly, red dots appeared, before suddenly disappearing. Again and again. The number of points kept increasing with each reappearance, until they covered his entire field of vision.

This infinity of dots were connecting themselves to create links, a blood red color. Then, these lines moved on their own initiative and approached Rohan, like snakes having found their prey.

These links were starting to touch him, to stick to him, to turn around him, and when all these bonds completely covered Rohan like in a red cocoon, it started to shrink, to squeeze Rohan, to crush him under unimaginable pressure. .

Just as he thought his bones were going to mush, he opened his eyes, and then nothing.

The red cocoon was gone, the red lines were gone, the red dots had evaporated, and the black void had given way to light.

Wooden planks, forming a ceiling, were in his sight as the light of the sun illuminated the room he was in.

A comfortable bed was under his back. For a short moment, Rohan felt like he was on a cloud. How long hadn't he slept in a good bed already? He had spent days and days sleeping in the cold of the night on trees in the least comfortable way.

Then he remembered how he had ended up here.

He jumped out of bed at lightning speed and found himself barefoot on the wooden floor. He raised his hands in a fighting stance and prepared himself to fight as he looked around.

Near the bed, on a small table, was a pitcher of water. On the opposite wall was a closed door, while a window let light in behind him.

He walked slowly over to the pitcher of water, his gaze fixed on the closed door, and when he was close enough, he took a swig of cool water.

He sighed in satisfaction before stepping back on guard. He had to get away from here as quickly as possible!

He stepped back to the window, and turned to look through it. This window faced the street and was only on the second floor, he could jump without problem!

He opened the window latch as delicately as possible, without letting a sound escape.

"You shouldn't be doing this."

Rohan jumped at the words and spun around. The door was wide open, like it had never been closed to begin with. Inside the room was the blacksmith, who was not just a blacksmith. He wore a simple tunic over him, as his calm gaze pierced Rohan from either side.

As Rohan calculated his chances of escape, the man in front of him put his hands behind his back, as if he wouldn't budge. He then asked a question.

"Did you kill?" No emotion could be heard in his voice, but Rohan didn't let himself be fooled, this man was very sick!

"Yes." He decided to answer all the same, he did not dare to move, he would wait for the right moment.

"Why ?" A slight tickle could be seen in his eyebrows, as if he was making a great effort to control his anger.

Oddly enough, this question touched Rohan more than he thought. Why has he killed? In the end, was there really a reason? He killed during the war. Was it to survive? Not really, he had been able to neutralize five bandits without killing a single one while he was alone. Because he had no choice? He clearly had a choice. Maybe if he hadn't aimed at that soldier's throat at this point, he wouldn't have killed him. Was it to save his duchy? In the end, they all played in the palm of the king and all the dead were now useless.

So, he chooses to answer the worst possible answer.

"There isn't a single reason that can explain it."

Horim widened his eyes. The painful smile on the young man's face hit him in the stomach. How old was he ? 16, 17 years old?

The answer he had just heard would normally have pissed him off, and he had prepared to kill the boy at the slightest dissatisfaction. But he couldn't move now. This look was not the look of a nobleman who killed out of anger or possession.

He breathed through his nose and turned around. As he reached the doorstep, he stopped.

"I don't care who you are, noble or not. You will take care of the shop every day. This room is your room, do whatever you want. Every weekend you will have a salary, and for the food, you will manage with the money you have. You start tomorrow. "

As the last words came out of his gruff voice, he strode out of the room.

"Eh?"

Rohan, who had prepared to jump through the window at any moment, felt slightly lost. Then, as he was asking himself if he should just leave, a voice came from outside of his room.

"What you're doing ? Will you move your ass to come ? I still need to explain what you need to do, so don't waste my time."

He turned his face toward the window that he had begun to open earlier. The sun illuminated his face and his eyes, forcing him to squint them. He looked back inside the room. A simple bed, with white sheets on it. A little wooden table on the side, and a leather bag at the foot of the bed. In his panic, he hadn't even thought about his belongings.

The image of him coming back later in the night to find a way to steal it made him smile a little.

"Well, it wouldn't be a bad idea to rest here for a few years. First I will become an Intermediate Warrior, and after that I will go back to meet Jonas. I mean, my family, of course. I shouldn't forget about my dear mother and brother." He crossed the room in a few steps, ready to accept a new routine. "And with a bit of chance, their heads will not be put on spikes by the time I go back."