"Melian! Hey, Melian, stop!"
Markil dug his heels into the polished marble floor, forcing the furious Princess to a halt.
She spun around, her eyes red and glistening. Her chest heaved with panic.
"I am not letting them do this!" Melian shouted, her voice echoing in the corridor.
"I thought... I thought you were just a traveler. But you saved me. You aren't like other humans, Markil! You are kind! And I won't watch you die for a stupid test!"
She grabbed his shoulders, shaking him.
"Please! You can run! I know a secret exit through the gardens!"
Markil gently took her hands off his shoulders. He held them for a second, then let go.
"Melian, listen to me," Markil said, his voice calm and steady.
"No! You listen!" Melian cut him off.
"You don't know who Elrond is! He isn't just a Captain. He is the Legendary Elven Swordsman. He earned that title in blood!"
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a terrified whisper.
"His specialty is speed. He moves faster than the eye can track. And his nature... he can't hold back, Markil. Even against weak opponents, his instincts take over. He kills. That's what he was built to do."
"Father said he wouldn't kill you, but Elrond... once he draws his blade, he doesn't stop until the target is down."
Markil looked at her terrified face.
"Melian," he said softly.
He smiled.
Not the goofy smile he used for the King.
A real one.
"Just listen. If I don't fight, they will never trust me. Nobody in this city will ever look at me without seeing 'filth'. I have to make them trust me."
"But you'll die!"
"I don't care," Markil said.
Melian froze.
"Even if I have to die," Markil continued, his eyes darkening slightly, "I will die on my own terms. I don't need to pass the timing of my death to anyone else. Not to a King. Not to a Knight."
Melian stared at him.
"So... you want to die?"
"No, absolutely not," Markil laughed lightly.
"I plan on living a long, annoying life. But if I do die... it's my choice. So you don't have to worry that it's your fault. You can relax, okay?"
Melian bit her lip.
"But Markil..."
clack. clack. clack.
Heavy boots approached.
"Princess," Elrond's voice came from behind them.
They turned. Elrond stood there, his face a mask of exhausted duty.
"Please listen to me, Princess. We cannot let him go without the King's permission. The decree has been set."
Melian looked at Elrond, then at Markil.
She saw the resolve in the human's eyes.
She wiped her tears aggressively.
"Okay," she whispered. "Fine. If you want to die so badly, I won't stop you."
She poked Markil's chest hard.
"But remember... if you die, I will never forgive you."
"Princess, please don't say such words," Elrond sighed.
He turned to Markil.
"Now, Markil. The King said you have to be detained in our cabinet for criminals until the duel tomorrow."
Markil nodded.
"Lead the way, Captain."
He looked back at Melian one last time.
"Hey, Melian?"
She looked up, eyes swimming with tears.
"Don't worry," Markil winked. "I'm really hard to kill."
He turned and walked away with Elrond.
Melian watched his back until he disappeared around the corner.
"You idiot..." she sobbed quietly.
The Descent
The air grew colder as they walked.
The white marble turned to grey stone, then to damp, dark rock.
They were going deep underground.
Markil walked with his hands behind his head.
Elrond walked two steps behind him, hand on his sword.
Elrond was staring at Markil's back.
I don't know why... but I don't want this, Elrond thought.
I want to stop this duel.
Elrond clenched his fist.
But I can't hold myself back. Ever since that day...
FLASHBACK
Rain. Mud. The smell of cheap ale and urine.
Elrond, years younger, kicking open the door to a human tavern.
He saw her.
His wife.
Tied to a table. Her clothes torn. Her body bruised and broken.
Five human men stood around her, laughing.
One was zipping up his pants.
Another was urinating on her unconscious form.
"Look at the Elf bitch," the human laughed. "She broke too easy."
Elrond didn't scream.
He didn't cry.
His vision went red.
Aura—pure, unadulterated rage—flared from his body.
SLASH.
He didn't aim at the men.
He aimed at the world.
The tavern disintegrated.
The men turned into mist.
The street outside vanished.
A 1-kilometer radius of the human town was erased from the map in a single swing.
When the dust settled, Elrond stood alone, holding his wife's corpse, amidst a crater of death.
PRESENT DAY
Elrond shook his head, banishing the memory.
"Hey, Captain," Markil's voice broke the silence.
Markil looked around the gloomy tunnel.
"I guess I am scared of darkness," Markil said, giving a fake, trembling smile.
"Do you have a nightlight down here?"
Elrond looked at him with disbelief.
"You are not scared of death... but you are scared of darkness?" Elrond scoffed.
"What a joke. How do I even categorize you?"
"You are the first person I have never been able to read, Markil. Or whatever your father's name is."
Elrond narrowed his eyes.
"You are hiding your father's name. There must be something you can't tell about him. Are you a runaway noble? A bastard prince?"
Markil looked at Elrond.
His smile faded slightly.
"Yeah... something like that."
Markil changed the subject quickly.
"By the way, can you tell me anything about humans here?"
Elrond raised an eyebrow.
"Why do you want to know? You are one."
"I just... I heard they are really cruel and very bad. So I just wanna know... how many kingdoms are there? Who's the boss?"
Elrond stopped walking.
He laughed.
"You really are a strange one. You live in this world, and now you are saying you don't know anything about the Kingdoms?"
"Homeschooled," Markil shrugged. "Very sheltered."
"Suggestion, boy," Elrond said, resuming his walk. "Educate yourself before you get killed."
"There are 24 Kingdoms in this world."
Elrond held up two fingers.
"But two stand above the rest."
"The strongest Kingdom, which has the strongest warrior, is the Kingdom of Emberfall. The name of the King is Luthar Thero."
"And his strongest knight," Elrond's voice grew heavy with respect and fear, "is Sasha Wamen. She is the strongest in the whole world. An SSS+ Rank monster."
Markil blinked.
Sasha... Wamen?
Wait. That redhead woman on the battlefield? The one who was screaming orders?
"Even at this time," Elrond continued, "they fought a battle against the Kingdom of Velmora. The second strongest nation."
"Their King is Cedric Blackwood. And their General..."
Elrond's hand twitched toward his sword.
"…is Roric Alfred. Another SSS+ Rank. He is the devil himself."
"Why am I even telling you this?" Elrond sighed. "It's a whole bunch of lists you won't live long enough to memorize."
Markil walked silently.
His mind was racing.
Sasha Wamen. Roric Alfred.
The SSS+ Ranks.
The peak of this world.
And I... Markil looked at his hands.
I knocked them both unconscious just by showing up. I stopped their war by accident.
If they are the strongest...
Markil suppressed a grin.
Then I guess I really should stay silent. If I told Elrond I turned the world's strongest warriors into napping toddlers, he'd probably have a heart attack.
"We are here," Elrond said.
They stood before a heavy steel door set into the rock.
It wasn't a solid door; it was made of thick iron rods, like a cage.
"The Cabinet," Elrond said. "Get in."
Markil looked inside.
A stone bench.
A bucket.
Some straw.
"Five-star accommodation," Markil muttered.
He walked in and sat on the bench.
CLANG.
Elrond locked the door.
Through the bars, Elrond stared at Markil.
The dim torchlight cast shadows on the Elf's face.
"Markil," Elrond said softly. "Please don't push yourself up."
"Huh?"
"I know you are hiding something," Elrond said, his eyes piercing through Markil's act.
"Tomorrow, I am going to uncover it."
Markil leaned back against the cold wall.
He gave his best innocent, helpless smile.
"Okay. But I really don't have any skills or ability for fighting. I'm just a guy with good luck."
Elrond shook his head.
"Sorry. But I am not going to hold back tomorrow."
Elrond's aura flared slightly, blue and cold.
"Even if the King says to go easy... I obey my nature. Tomorrow will be my day. So be ready for it."
Elrond turned and walked away into the darkness.
Markil watched him go until the footsteps faded.
The smile dropped from Markil's face.
He looked at his hand.
Purple sparks danced between his fingers.
"Oh shit," Markil whispered to the empty dungeon. "He has got that attitude."
"He thinks he's going to kill me."
Markil lay down on the hard stone bench, crossing his legs.
"I guess I should be worried..."
He closed his eyes.
A memory of the red world appeared.
Thoos standing on a floating throne.
A slash that cut the horizon.
A presence that made the sky bleed.
Markil chuckled.
"But compared to Thoos... Elrond is nothing."
"Thoos was extraordinary. He was a god."
"And even when I released my full Aura..." Markil opened one eye, looking at the ceiling.
"Thoos was still standing with a smile."
"Elrond will fell to his knees."
Markil closed his eyes again.
Tomorrow isn't a duel, Markil thought, drifting to sleep.
It's going to be a lesson.
(Chapter 20 Finished)