Book 8 – Chapter 27 – Orders to march

Tenisent Winterscar cracked his neck to the side, standing back up, sword drawn. His opponent stepped out of the tower, eyes focused, mind resolute.

In a way, Tenisent knew he was doing something anathema to the way of the white. Deathless were the emissaries of the gods, but beyond the simple religious aspect, they had always been the paragons of humanity. Guiding people on the right path forward, ever stalwart.

That resilience and determination were even more apparent in Lionheart. Despite death after death, the man remained unbroken. Still determined to win against him, still attempting different occult techniques and combat strategies to weave through and prevail. It wasn’t just that Lionheart continued to fight, it was the tenacity to keep hope alive in the face of hopelessness. Years could pass and this man would never give in to despair.

Tenisent had a deep sense of respect for that. One warrior to another. The old deathless were indeed chosen from the best of humanity. Not its strongest warriors, but those who would simply never give in.

Despite that, the mission was to protect To’Wrathh’s village, and to hold down the Deathless from attacking until they either surrendered or his son returned with the girl.

Each and every time Tenisent fought Lionheart, it was to eliminate the Deathless as quickly and mechanically as possible. He did not hold back to teach this Deathless any lessons. There was no attempt for mercy, or to prolong the fight. The only sense of mercy was Tenisent allowing the man to die with a sword in hand.

Each time, Lionheart stepped out of the tower, took the blade, and died again.

Some Deathless took a day to return. Others a week. Lionheart never took more than two hours. He never slept, never tired, and always took the sword in hand.

The Undersiders were, understandably, terrified of Tenisent by this point. Lionheart had disarmed and defeated a small team of relic knights from the city’s militia. Barehanded, with only the occult and his centuries of experience.

And now there was a monster that was killing him in under a second each time, no matter what occult spell or bladework the man attempted.

The entire park had been sealed off, but the city still watched from rooftops or windows, sharing the videos taken with each other. A few had attempted to step in to negotiate a ceasefire, but Tenisent simply ignored them, or drew arms in the event they got closer.

They eventually demanded he suspend his ‘activity’ or else cannon fire would commence. And very quickly realized that was a fast way to lose their expensive weapons and city defenses.

Time passed. The Deathless would return soon, and the cycle would start once more.

This time, his sensors pinged Winterscar signals first. Sound came later. Fighting further off, followed by a quick ceasefire.

He hadn’t requested reinforcements to arrive unless they had news to offer him.

Five knights marched through the city, following the same path he’d taken. At their center, was a man he recognized.

Drakonis.

And if he was here, then that meant Keith had returned. Some part of him relaxed.

The knights came to formation, and gave a swift bow as expected to a prime family branch. Which meant they acknowledged that Kidra was the family prime, and he was simply part of the main branch. Good.

He stood up to his full height from his sitting position, turning his full attention to the knights and Drakonis standing further off.

The Deathless looked more cleaned up. The beard was shaved and hair was combed. No armor, but Tenisent could sense there was an airspeeder further off the city defenses, and it had a Winterscar IFF. There was a weight off the man’s shoulders, some kind of inner pride that had been absent when he’d last fought on the plains. Even the eyes seemed less feral, more focused and clearheaded.

Tenisent had been an excellent judge of combat potential in the past, and a terrible judge of personality. Nuances in people’s features rarely made sense to him, besides the most obvious tells. Now, he had a Feather’s body whispering to him all the data points, the minute centimeters of differences in factual structures and muscle movements. The information presented through non-verbal and even subconscious cues was impressive.

It wasn’t completely accurate either. Only offering him percentage based reports. But the entire whole presented a story Tenisent could follow and understand.

Something had happened to this Deathless within the last few days, and it had scared him dramatically. Possibly healed something deeper down, or excised a rot from within.

If it would help the girl’s city out, or if it was renewed determination to cause chaos, that was left to discover.

“You. I remember you.” Tenisent said, voice skewering the Deathless and forcing the man’s spine to straighten by reflex. Good. Seems he hadn’t forgotten his last encounter. “Have you come to discuss terms?”

The ‘or else’ went unworded, but not ignored.

Drakonis took a breath, and Tenisent could hear the Deathless’s heart start beating slightly faster before relaxing. “Yeah. I have. Talked to your son. And then to To’Wrathh. I’ve got a better idea of what’s going on now.”

That confirmed they were back and safe.

Tenisent didn’t need his Feather’s sensors to tell him that was the truth. However, he did want to know what had gone on in the background. He turned his gaze to one of the Winterscar knights escorting their captive. “Report.”

They did. And equally sent him a copy of a massive video file. One recorded by Journey, showing all the misadventures his son had somehow landed himself in. And the tools he had brought back. His shell raced through the entire thing, showing him the important bits and all he needed to know within seconds.

At this point, nothing about his son would surprise him anymore. Too many events from legend had occurred around him, including Tenisent’s own personal fate.

“Where is he now?” He asked.

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“Sir. Lord Keith has remained among the village and is currently taking the time to devise new weapons with Lady To’Wrathh.”

It both pleased and annoyed him to hear his son called a Lord. Not in the sense of a political position, but one of a Deathless or near saint. These knights revered Keith, either because their own personal families and loved ones were truly taken care of, or that Keith’s actions as a whole had led Clan Altosk to the golden age it most certainly lived under now.

Or that he was a prophet of the gods, having spoken to Tsuya herself. And now, given the Records of Aztu he’d read through as part of the data package, very much on his way to take the post left behind in leading humanity as a whole. That would… complicate the Winterscar knight’s personal feelings, hearing their supposed prophet was now a mitespeaker and on the way to treading upon the same ground the gods had.

And given they had been the ones to carry that video data back to him, he had no doubts Keith had let them all watch the highlights and important parts already.

Perhaps that was even worse than the ‘Lord’ his knights called Keith.

‘Emperor’ held far more danger behind that title.

It was petty. Tenisent knew that. He should feel proud that his son was living up to that. But he still wished Keith to survive through the events safely.

At the least, his actions had brought to him a small army of the most dedicated warriors on the earth. He’d need to train them further, since Keith would certainly drag them into hell itself at this rate.