Chapter 18: The Honour of Swordsmen
Commander Eliot slowly turned toward the gruff voice. It belonged to a tall spear user, clad in a brown leather jacket, fitted trousers, and a white inner garment, with a strap running across his chest. The man held a long spear and stood with a proud, challenging aura, his gaze fixed directly on the Commander.
From the looks on the other adventurers' faces, the spear user had spoken for all of them; they felt they deserved proper recognition.
"Attackers," the commander repeated, his tone laced with distaste.
"Such a primitive name."
The spear user stepped forward, closing the distance to the rigid, unmoving Commander.
"You don't really expect to step out here and give us orders just because you sit at the top of a bloody hierarchy," the spear user challenged. He stopped inches from the Commander.
Commander Eliot's eyebrow twitched, his gaze unwavering.
"Around here, you earn respect. Adventurers help a brother in need, and no one claims authority without earning it. We are not like you bloody lot."
"Perhaps you are ignorant of the fact that the honor of being called a Swordsman among us knights is a privilege many would only dream of," the Commander countered stiffly.
The spear user leaned in closer.
"Like I said before, we're not like you. So address us properly." he demanded.
"Or what? You'll leave? Be my guest," the Commander sneered, pointing toward the capital gate.
The spear user laughed—a hearty, mocking sound that instantly got on the Commander's nerve.
"Cocky, aren't you?" he said.
"I reckon that if the likes of you bloody lots weren't so incompetent, little Miss Hierarchy in there wouldn't have allowed adventurers to come on this expedition in the first place."
MURMURS.
The adventurers began whispering amongst themselves. The spear user had hit a nerve—he had a good point.
"Of course," Cassian thought, a flicker of understanding crossing his face.
"He didn't think of it that way."
Commander Eliot went silent. Cassian could sense the Magic Knight getting seriously pissed off. This was a battle of wills the Commander was bound to lose.
A long, controlled sigh escaped Commander Eliot. It would be a stain on his honor as a Magic Knight to assault a "lowly" adventurer, even if the adventurer was provoking him—especially given the Princess's explicit threats. He swallowed his pride.
"The Princess is frightening," he thought, forcing himself to control his anger.
He broke his gaze from the spear user and turned to the other adventurers.
"Healers on one side, mages on one side, and... Attackers on another side as well," the Commander finished, straining his voice on the last word.
The spear user, satisfied, turned and walked to stand alone. Swordsmen, knife users, and archers—all classified as attackers—slowly made their way to join him.
Watching them follow like a disciplined pack, Cassian couldn't help but smile.
"Classic leader type."
The sight of the spear user reminded him of his old neighbor. It made him wonder if the old man was like that in his youth, always bragging about his strength and the strange monsters he fought. Cassian smiled, shaking his head.
The small crowd of adventurers scattered and divided into three distinct groups. Cassian quickly snapped out of his thoughts and moved swiftly toward the gathered group of mages. Just as before, he stood at the very back, and no one seemed to notice his presence.
Seeing them all arranged, Commander Eliot stood next to the mage group, ready to take the final count.
"Counting will now be made! After this, no one else will be allowed to join or leave. Any of you having second thoughts is now given the final chance to leave!" he yelled.
Cassian stood directly beside the Commander, staring straight at him with a questioning look on his face, certain the man was still oblivious to his presence.
"What's wrong with him? Does he really want us gone so badly?" Cassian wondered.
Just as before, no adventurer moved to leave. To the Commander, this was foolish overconfidence; he still believed they would hold him back from impressing the Royal escort.
After quickly tallying the groups, the Commander yelled out the count.
"Seven Attackers, four Healers, and three Mages!"
"Four Mages," a soft voice corrected directly beside him.
The Commander instantly spun around. Standing exactly where he had been only a moment before was Cassian.
Commander Eliot was completely caught off guard. He leaped backward, drawing his sword from its sheath in a panic. The mages, healers, and even the attackers reacted instantly to the sudden, frightening appearance of a person seemingly out of thin air, pulling out their weapons and readying their spells.