Shammus was built up through effort, yet everyone else had viewed him with looks of envy. Great jealousy, which had been spawned from the lack of effort on their part. They were weaker and they hated him for it.
He kept moving onwards though, leading into the true head general’s office. The current prince, soon to be sixth king of Forsivo. Shammus bows his head lightly to one of the two guards, who saluted him in turn as he entered.
“Ah, General Eurylochus.” The prince turned to face him from the window framed in the brick. The sky was an awful yellow from the smoke and burning of the cities. “I am glad to see you, but I need to wonder the reason as to why you visit?”
“This war is wrong sir.” Shammus felt the words flow out from him, the weight around his chest tightened as he spoke. “It is much more many slaughters than any proper battle. The war is against innocent people who hardly even have resources. Won’t Forsivo fall out of favor after this?”
The prince let out a laugh as he poured himself a glass of wine. He offered one to Shammus as he replied, his voice just as empty of emotion as the laugh. “You may be right, our foreign affairs may get slightly worse off, but we are too good a trade partner to just war against. Especially for any reason such as mere ethics.”
Shammus seemed confused as he declined the wine. “Clearly you don’t understand. This is a precarious position for the other nations as well. If they were to drop us, they’d lose their number one trade partner. Linyue is too far to properly wage a war against us, Keriny just needs a spark, yes, but they can’t afford to risk being attacked by both us and the nation up north.”
The prince turned back towards the window, and poured the wine outside. “The alcohol of this wine is flammable, but when in wine it can be used to douse a flame. That’s because it’s not pure alcohol like whiskey, it’s more fruit juice than alcohol.”
“And yet this war is like an alcoholic beverage being thrown onto a flame. We used it to season the patriotism, and yet it puts us at risk for a fire in the kitchen. But it’s controlled, we are chefs, you lot are the ingredients.”
And the prince simply looked away from the window, and walked to his two swords on the wall. “And now, you need to go back into the pan. Before I have you executed for treason.” The prince turns back to Shammus. “Neither of us would want that, now would we?”
52 - Sparring
As Bariton and Pallad both left, Kishtan watched the two leave before gripping the sword in his hand. “Splendid, those two both have stress that needs removal. That temple should let them sort it out.”
Kishtan swivels on his heels to face Shammus as the dragon draws his sword. “These aren’t for show, and neither are your machetes I believe you humans call them. I can see it in your eyes, you know death, and you know the weight of it.”
Shammus steps back in surprise at the reading Kishtan had done, but Kishtan doesn’t match the step back, and only points his sword at his throat. He notices Clara and Judine both watching. Silent.
And Kishtan was staring into Shammus’s eyes still. The silver reflecting his own red eyes. “Yes, I suppose that is accurate.” Shammus finally responded, drawing his two blades, Justice and Agony from his inventory.
“And I can also see how you move your body hides forgotten memories of training.” Kishtan stabs forward, as Shammus effortlessly parried it away. “You use instinct more often than not, and you also wield your power more effectively.”
Kishtan rushes forward, Shammus can see it perfectly, but he wasn’t used to seeing things move that fast. Similar to a baseball being thrown to another professional. Shammus couldn’t avoid the arm that took him down.
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“You have the most effective movements, the closest to your real stats, it isn’t your practically worthless constitution that bought you that opportunity.” Kishtan continues his analysis as he lifts himself off of Shammus, digging in his knee a bit more while standing back up.
“It’s that you were given slower growth than the other four. And speaking of you four,” Kishtan turned away from Shammus, to face Judine and Clara. “You two wield your bodies ineffectively, you two weren’t taught how to fight and I’d bet that you simply just got lucky reacting.”
The two flinched as he moved behind them at unrecognizable speeds. “The three of you all have stats that far exceed my own.” Kishtan begins speaking, as Clara turns back to face him. Judine’s eyes were tracking him the whole time. “I am simply here to teach you how to wield your stats. This is my personal domain though, so I’d recommend you get used to feats currently beyond your scope.”
Shammus finally got back up, “and you’re saying I have the least work to do… why? Because I’ve reached level 1200 the usual way?”
“Exactly that.” Kishtan stays sat down on the other side of the log as Clara and Judine, the silver eyes drawing a line into the forest. “And I can teach you easiest, and after you learn the true capabilities of your stats, you can help me teach the bard.”
Kishtan jumps up, and lands next to Shammus, and walks towards the field. “You two can help yourself to the knowledge in my cabin. I feel you two have limited knowledge of your, and this, world. You’ve been fed a lot of propaganda.”
While the two walked, it was awfully silent, the wheat fields had a path towards where they went, and the sun was setting by the time they reached the proper area, a clearing of packed dirt that was dead. There were no nutrients in the soil from how dry and light it looked.
“You lived some time away from battle, hm?” Kishtan swivels back to face Shammus after reaching the other side of the dirt field. “I can tell what you noticed of it. It’s unusable soil, yes. But that’s due to the amount of training I do here.”
Kishtan faces Shammus, and he quickly stepped back from the dragon, who let out a laugh. “Oh no, we aren’t fighting here. Too little room, I asked my god, Painted if I can train you lot in their domain.”
As Kishtan sat down, he cracked his neck. “I’m going to be doing a ritual, according to Painted; your patron god, or better to say, your favored god, would be Ruler of Everything yes?” At Shammus’s nod, Kishtan simply let out a hum of approval. “Yes, please do pray to him. He’ll make the connecting of spaces far easier.”
As Kishtan began to pray, the sky lit up like fireworks. As Shammus joined the prayer, he noticed the speed of the sky doing said lighting up was far greater. Many pillars opened up surrounding the two, sort of similar to the one Heavenly had released on the floor before.
But these ones were different. They formed more slowly and was more like the ground bleeding into the sky. They were also a mixture of orange and system blue, albeit a light bit darker.
The pillars eventually converged into a single point, and after a few minutes the stars seemed to shoot out from the sky and land into the pillars, brightening them greatly. The ground opened up to swallow them, but they landed somewhere strange.
A dead location similar to a battlefield. But there was no battle, no bloodshed, no people. Only a sort of short person stood at the head staring into a few trenches. They turned around and immediately began speaking, their red hair slightly curving into wings at the back.
“Why hello, and welcome back to my domain Kishtan, bleak as it may be.” They had a strange weapon atop their back, and their eyes were interesting, similar to Shadowing Voices. Actually a lot was similar between her and shadowing voices.
Their eyes were both the same, but they felt like a frog’s eyes, or a snakes. They were an unnatural goldish-orange. And they had a strange weapon atop their back. It was long and made of wood, and she noticed Shammus’s gaze.
“Oh, you want to see my rifle?” The god had spoken, but before she had gotten too distracted she shook her head, her glasses unnaturally glued to her head. “No, before that is names. I’m Painted the World Red, and you must be Shammus, at least if what TGZ3IEFpbXYgWXZmbXo=-”
Shammus clutched his head as it felt like the system itself was scraping his skull to escape. She put a hand over her mouth, and Shammus finally calmed down, as did the throbbing.
“...Yes, that would be my name.”
