Harwin was shocked by the appearance of a mysterious elf. This person was not the one who wielded the great-sword, rather he was one of the elves who had laughed earlier at Harwin's misery.

  Without any warning, the elf had unsheathed his blade and placed it against Harwin's neck. The feeling of steel on his bare skin paralyzed his legs. He was too shocked to even speak.

  Soon four more elves surrounded him. The one who was holding the sword ordered:

  "Human, your presence is demanded by the chief-commander. Follow us without uttering a single word or else"

  The man slightly grazed Harwin's neck. Considering the severity of the situation, he followed their orders without a cry of help or protest.

  They took him a bit away from the main resident area of the village. There was no one around — not even the chief-commander who he was supposed to be meeting at this place, but Harwin did not dare question.

  The elves gathered around him once again. Two held his arms and the one who had confronted him in the first place stated:

  "You have caused a great trouble for us. My brother was the one who took you as the prisoner, and that old-chief with his sons chewed him out due to your false claims. It is high time that you paid for your crimes."

  "I only spoke the truth–"

  "DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS YOU ARE ASKED TO!"

  Before Harwin could argue again, he was punched in the face by the elf.

  The elf did not hold back at-all — packing that punch with all his anger. Harwin already spewed out a tooth and blood out his mouth while falling to his knees. The other elves began to cackle.

  "Please let me go. The chieftain will be upset with you, as he deems me to be an important hostage–" Harwin was interrupted once again.

  "YOU SPOKE AGAIN!"

  The man punched him repeatedly in the face. After that, Harwin was now a complete mess. He could not even open his mouth properly.

  "I HAVE ALREADY HEARD THAT YOU ARE A MERE SLAVE, SO IT WILL NOT MATTER IF WE GET RID OF YOU."

  The other elves began kicking Harwin as well whilst one of them brought along wooden-swords that were used for practice. It became clear that they did not intend on letting Harwin go on alive.

  The lad tried to defend himself, alas he was no match for trained soldiers.

  They began to beat him with the wooden-swords. Each strike made him spew out more blood. Even after the others had stopped, the one who had started it all did not let go.

  When Harwin was near unconscious; the elf pulled out his real blade to finish his victim once and for all, but just before he was about to deliver the final blow — a shout came from a few yards away:

  "WAIT! WHAT ARE YOU SCOUNDRELS DOING?"

  "RUN ALONG LANDEL! THIS DOES NOT CONCERN YOU."

  "Zevran, he is the chief's grand-son. We have to obey him."

  One of the other elves tried to reason with Zevran but he paid no heed to his words.

  "IF YOU COME ANY CLOSER! IT WILL NOT MATTER TO ME WHOEVER YOUR FATHER OR GRANDFATHER IS!"

  Harwin who was nearly knocked out, gathered the last of his strength to shout:

  "RUN AWAY–"

  He was kicked in the face by Zevran at this statement, and was now kocked-out.

  Landel, however, did not follow the cry of Harwin.

  He lunged forward towards Zevran, who tried to block the incoming strike. Suddenly his opponent vanished from sight and before he could turn back — he was punched in the head with such force that he was knocked out in a single strike.

  The other scoundrels tried to defend their friend, but all of them were defeated swiftly by this unarmed young blood.

  Landel carried Harwin back to the chieftain's house, where Iquaral was immediately called upon.

  It was in the evening that Harwin regained his consciousness. Iquaral and Alisa were the ones who were standing beside him.

  "Finally woken up, eh? They certainly beat you to a pulp. Did you not try to run?" Iquaral asked.

  Before Harwin could have answered, Iquaral said:

  "No need to answer. I was only jesting. You should rest for now. Alisa, keep an eye on him for the time being. Do not let him do anything reckless."

  Iquaral left, after instructing Alisa. She asked out of pure concern:

  "How are you feeling right now?"

  "I am in no pain, thanks to you and Iquaral. I am eternally grateful."

  "It is Landel whom you should thank. If not for him, you might have not even been alive right now."

  "I need to thank that kind person as well. Is he alright?"

  "Of course. He is currently with the chief-commander. They are delivering punishment upon the ones who assaulted you."

  Soon after the chief-commander made his way into the room as well.

  He was a handsome fellow with lean muscular build. His hair was tied up neatly behind his head — the same color as the rest of his race. He carried a great-sword at his back. This was the person whom Harwin had seen on the practice-field. He looked at his condition and said:

  "They really did a number on you. Thankfully Lady Alisa and Iquaral were able to heal away any permanent damage. I am the chief-commander of the village, Graftel. I apologize on the behalf of my soldiers. I can assure you they are dealt with and would not dare cross path against you ever again."

  Harwin had tried to sit up, whilst Graftel was speaking but Alisa pushed him back-down.

  "I am grateful that you have done so much for a mere slave."

  "No need. You are our guest for the time-being, but I must say that you should at-least be able to escape from such confrontations. Visit me after you have made up your mind regarding the chief's offer, and I shall train you to at-least stand-up for yourself."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "I will definitely take you up on that offer. Thank you. Where is the other gentleman who saved me."

  "I do not expect him to visit you. He is a shy and awkward fellow especially in such situations."

  Alisa smiled at this comment from Graftel. Soon after, the chief and his sons also arrived. They apologized as well.

  After a while, Harwin, at his own request, went back to his personal quarters.

  Borzugal, of-course, was worried at the sight of his friend who even though was in no pain, had bruises all over his body. After explaining as to what had occurred; both of them laughed at now having been injured by the arrogant elves.

  After a while Brozugal asked:

  "What of the other matter? Did you make up your mind regarding returning to your former master?"

  “Not for the moment. I have decided to help this village for the time being.”

  “Well, the decision is yours. Do you want to continue to listen to me blabber about my tales again, or do you have other plans in mind?”

  “Of-course, but first I want to know if you have any idea regarding the mage-king who is the ruler of Silfordan?”

  “Mage-king...”

  He pondered for a while before answering:

  “Oh, you must be talking about the human mage who has been claimed to be the most knowledgeable being about magika. Yes, I have heard about him though I have never met him. He is quite famous in the demon continent as well. I have heard folk tales regarding him.”

  “Can you tell me more about him?”

  Borzugal shared his findings:

  - He was considered to be a great-mage. Someone who traveled through the world to quench his thirst for the knowledge of magika.

  - He became the student of the demon lord 'Gloithus the wise' for sometime who taught him a lot. The reason for accepting the mage-king as his student is not known, but soon after the mage-king was known as 'The student' in the demon realm.

  - He was given a special audience with the demon emperor, who supposedly made him immortal though it was never confirmed. In-fact none of this was confirmed by a credible source.

  -The demon realm was left behind by the mage-king soon after, and then he became a figure of legend in this continent.

  The answer to Harwin's quest lied with this mysterious mage-king. All the clues were leading up-to that conclusion, although, it seemed nearly impossible to reach him. He was lost in thought when suddenly inturrupted by Borzugal:

  “By the way Gor. Do you know that young elfian girl who has been eavesdropping on us for a while.”

  He looked outside to find Alisa. She was standing there — face red from embarrassment.

  “Please join us Lady Alisa. I was just listening to the stories of my friend Borzugal here. He is a great adventurer. I am sure you will enjoy listening to him.”

  “Please call me just Alisa and I am sorry for listening to your conversation. I had no intention to remain hidden. I was just a bit scared to interrupt your discussion.” She explained while still being flustered.

  Borzugal introduced himself to Alisa who was quite scared of the orc's appearance thus sat near Harwin for the entirety of the conversion. Surpsingly enough both of them spoke the human tongue so they could converse with each-other.

  They talked for a while. In-fact, it was dark outside when Alisa asked to leave.

  Harwin decided to accompany her, as he felt like she had something to ask. They were half-way to the chieftain's house that Alisa suddenly stopped and asked:

  "I am sorry to suddenly ask you this, but are you still going to help our village after everything you have endured today?"

  She looked with teary eyes which made Harwin respond without a single second of delay:

  "I will help the village no matter what. The incident only occurred as my presence is not welcome for now, but I do hope the villagers will accept me soon."

  This made Alisa smile. They did not speak for the rest of the way, but it was clear Hariwn had gained his first friend in the village.

  It had now been one a week since Harwin had been captured and had promised to help the elf village.

  He regularly visited the chief’s house to discuss the plans further. There still were no reports of his old group wandering around the forest. There had been a report of some beast-men exiting the fores, but he could not verify if they were the same people.

  The villagers were the same. Most of them, at least, ignored him. Sometimes glared at him, but there had been no act of violence so Harwin was, at least, grateful for that.

  He visited the chief-commander after an entire week had passed since the unfortunate incident. Harwin had made up his mind, that he will stay in the village for now.

  Graftel did not discriminate against Harwin. He told him about the adventures he have had throughout the whole continent. Traveling and training under all kinds of teachers. In-fact, one of them was even a human which might have been the reason for his tolerance.

  Harwin accepted the offer of Graftel, who gladly took him as a student as well.

  Today marked the first day of training with his new master.

  Graftel had instructed him to come to the practice-field in the evening as most of his men were on patrol or on other duties at that time. Otherwise, much time would be spent in handling the opposition from the younglings.

  He bid farewell to Borzugal, who was quite accustomed to living with one arm now. He had also recovered from all the discomfort, but was in no rush to return back to traveling. The chief had a turned a blind eye to this as well.

  Harwin made his way near the end of the village. There was the main training area and in the outskirts, there lied a much smaller and poorly maintained one. None of the others went there.

  Graftel was swinging his mighty great-sword. It felt like he was holding back a-lot of his strength which was even noticeable by a total novice such as Harwin.

  “Gor, pick up the pace. We only have a limited time before getting back to village. Otherwise, people will get suspicious.”

  He said while Harwin was not even visible yet — standing at-least a few yards away. The man truly possessed the skills of a great warrior.

  Harwin made his way over as fast as possible.

  He was then handed a wooden sword and instructed to swing.

  He simply followed the order given to him and swung it as hard as he could. Harwin was confident in his endurance as he had worked at alot of physically demanding jobs back in his old world. He could also lift more than the average human.

  “Your skill is even lower than that of a novice. Have you never held a weapon before?”

  That was a bit surprising but he replied immediately:

  “No, I have never held any sword or weapons, but I have done a lot physical work in the past. Are you sure there was no strength in my swing at all?”

  “Gor, it is not about how fast or how strong you are. A skilled swordsman is neither the fastest nor the strongest. The art of swordsmanship or wielding any other kind of weapon depends on your stance, and your ability to become one with the weapon. I am still amazed that you do not know even a basic stance, but never the less, I shall teach you from scratch.”

  He then proceeded to teach Harwin all about his sword style.

  Even though Graftel had learned from all sorts of master, but the basic stance and style had remained to be the elfin — one which he had learned as a child.

  It heavily relied on remembering and targeting the weak points of the enemy. It was a sophisticated form of art. None of the swings were wasted but rather all revolved around precision.

  The great-sword, however, was something that this experienced warrior had chosen himself, while other elves who were also familiar with this style preferred a short-sword or even a spear.

  Harwin was given the instruction to hit particular points drawn on the tree whilst wielding the wooden sword single-handedly. To keep his legs close until the moment he attacked, and trying to maintain a moderate amount of distance from the enemy.

  It was the evening that their training started and Harwin was made to practice till there was no light. Even when his muscles ached, he did not stop as he wanted to leave a good impression on his instructor.

  “Good, that will do for now. If I am busy on other days you, even then should practice this till you have achieved perfection or till the day this sword becomes a part of your body. I know you expect me to just teach the basics, but I go to the end with all my students, and that is why I will not let you off the hook easily.”

  Graftel gave a small speech to the tired trainee.

  “I will try to meet your expectations, master.” Harwin claimed with the little strength that was left in his body.

  “Master....that has a nice ring to it.” Graftel commented joyfully.

  He helped Harwin back to the guest-house. Every muscle in his student's body was sore and it did not looked like he could make his way back alone. Alisa saw them and worriedly followed. After all of them were at the guest house, Graftel left Harwin in her care and left.

  “Are you alright Gor. What happened to you? If someone has been bullying you again, I can let Grandpa know.” She urged with great concern.

  “No, no. There is no need for it although I am grateful for your concern. This all is the result of my own foolish request to train with the chief-commander. He did not let me off the hook easy, even though it was my first day.” he mumbled due to the soreness.

  Alisa casted a healing spell which made all the pain wash away. Harwin felt as if he had never even taken a walk much less trained for several hours.

  He offered Alisa to walk her back to the chief's home but she politely declined. Once she had left, Harwin laid down and thought of the days he have had ever since coming to village.

  He felt now that he might have been accepted a little by the villagers, but soon this satisfaction would be ruined by the news that came in the morning like an arrow fired directly at the heart.