As the heavy, door of the orphanage closed behind them, the evening chill of Ulfgard struck Aurelion's face like a slap.
The city, despite preparing for the night, was alive and bustling like a relentlessly beating iron heart.
The chaotic ruins he vaguely remembered from infancy had been replaced by a harsh, functional order, woven with obvious planning.
The sidewalks were crowded with Northerners wrapped in thick furs, rushing from one place to another. But they weren't the only ones.
The disciplined steps of guards in clanking steel armor, passing at regular intervals, showed that the city was always on alert.
When they reached the main street, the flood of people intensified. Among the burly Northerners, beings he had never seen before could be discerned.
He noticed a figure passing by, short but incredibly stocky, with braided beards from which he seemed to be struggling to shake off ice, carrying a massive pickaxe on his back. "Short, muscular, bearded… Could it be a Mountain Dwarf, according to what I've read? It resembles the descriptions in the texts. They are said to be masters of craftsmanship…"
His eyes fell on several tall figures whose scaly skin peeked out from under their cloaks "These are Lizardmen. Some are agile, some clumsy." Compared to the ones he'd seen in the orphanage, their adult forms were much more impressive.
Immediately after, he saw someone almost running past, carrying a large load on their back, with furry ears twitching in the wind on their head and a bushy tail swaying behind them."Beastkin… Half-human, half-animal. Like Lyra and Kael… So they can roam freely in the city."
Saharans, Aquarions, Eluvians… Despite the Northerners' known ethnocentrism, this city somehow had to accommodate this diversity.The brutal efficiency of the post war world apparently required everyone to be used for what they did best.
What caught his attention most was the economic heart of the street. Hunter stalls and blacksmith shops.
Massive, skinned monster pelts were displayed. Horns, teeth, and claws seemed to be classified separately. In front of the butchers, in special compartments, some he size of a fist, others as small as a pebble, objects of different colors were being sold. Emerald green, red, ice blue, earth yellow. Glistening, smooth, circular objects.
Just then, he saw a group of hunters passing by, carefully opening the chest cavity of a massive, wolf like creature whose fur was still covered in fresh blood, laid out on the ground.
One of the hunters, with a curved knife, skillfully extracted one of those circular objects, from between the monster's ribs. As he wrapped the object in a cloth and carefully placed it in his pouch, his face showed the satisfaction of claiming the hunt's reward.
Aurelion was frozen. Those shiny, round things… So they came from inside monsters!
Looking through the open door of a blacksmith shop a little further ahead, he saw the blacksmith holding one such object, emitting an infrared glow, with a pair of long tongs and carefully placing it into the head of a massive battle axe.
The apprentice next to him was carefully embedding a small, blue stone into the boss of a shield on the anvil.
Lightning bolts flashed in his mind. These objects… The essence of monsters, their power… Were they taking them and embedding them into weapons, armor? This… was incredible. But it made sense. This was one of this world's methods of obtaining power, like Runes, but more direct, more… organic, it seemed.
He turned to Roric. "Captain!" his voice trembled with excitement. "Those… those shiny round things! They come from inside monsters! Blacksmiths are putting them into weapons! What are they? What do they do?"
Roric stopped, looking at the curiosity, on the boy's face. He chuckled softly. "Calm down, pointy ears. Step by step."
They continued walking. "Those shiny things? They're called "Cores." Yes, they are found in the hearts of these monsters, at the center of their spirits. They contain their essence, their power."
"Core..." Aurelion heard the word for the first time but engraved it in his mind. "So the monster's power is in it… How do they use it then? The blacksmiths…"
"Ha, that part?" Roric's voice took on a more serious tone. "That requires skill. It's dangerous. The energy within a Core is raw and volatile. If you process it incorrectly, upset its balance, or simply touch a Core too powerful for you to handle… It explodes."
He shook his head. "And it explodes in such a way that they wouldn't even find your dust. That's why only the most skilled Rune Masters or special armorers deal with this. A core holds a great deal of energy, remember that."
Aurelion fell silent. Danger… But potential power… A balanced risk. "And what about those creatures with the hunters?" he asked, shifting his attention to another point.
"Monsters are different," Roric said. "Some you can communicate with, make deals with. They help you hunt, and you provide them with food and protection. A smart and strong partnership. Others… respect pure strength. If you are stronger than them and can prove it, they will obey you. But if you lose control for even a moment, they will be the first to tear you apart. Distinguishing them is not always easy."
Their conversation had brought them to a massive, circular stone structure that dominated the city's skyline at the end of the main street. It looked older and more imposing than the other buildings.
It was a place where bookies shouted at the top of their lungs and people argued heatedly in groups.
As Aurelion tried to understand what this colossal structure was, Roric, without a word, lifted him onto his shoulders and headed towards a side door, clearly special, guarded by two armored sentinels.
The guards, upon seeing Roric, saluted sharply and immediately cleared the way. The inside was quieter, a contrast to the chaos outside.
They climbed a wide, winding staircase. With each step, the muffled roar and whispers of anticipation from below grew louder.
Finally, they reached a private viewing box, furnished with seats. Below was a huge, circular battleground of sand and mud.
The stands were packed with people from Ulfgard. It was then that Aurelion understood.
This place… was an Arena. It was the center of the city's hunting culture, its quest for power, and perhaps its entertainment.
Roric placed Aurelion in one of the front row seats with the best view of the arena and sat beside him. Aurelion's small body was lost in the large seat, but his eyes were locked on the scene below.
Just then, four more figures stepped into the center of the arena. A burly Northerner slammed his shield, almost as large as himself, onto the ground. When he lightly touched the short but thick mace in his hand, the sand beneath his feet seemed to compact slightly.
The ax wielding Northerner was beside him. The double-bitted head of his axe shimmered with a pale, blue energy.
The Eluvian archer further back had nocked an arrow. As his fingers lightly caressed the bowstring.
And the fourth warrior, an Aquarion... He wore a dark blue tunic embroidered with wave patterns. On his head was an elegant but strange circlet. The tip of the staff in his hand seemed to leave a thin layer of ice wherever it touched.
As Aurelion recorded all these details in his mind, the massive gate at the opposite end of the arena creaked open. First, a cloud of icy breath emerged from within, followed by an angry, bone chilling snarl.
A colossal silhouette on all fours emerged from the darkness. It was about three, perhaps four meters tall, covered in white gray fur. Its posture resembled a bear. On its huge, muscular head were two short, thick horns curving forward. At the ends of its long, muscular arms extended claws. A thick, scaly tail nervously lashed the ground. On its flat face, a single large, coal red eye glowed as if with hatred.
"Snow Ripper," Roric muttered calmly. "It's durable, fast, and those claws can pierce even steel."
When the creature stepped into the arena, a tense silence rose from the stands. The fights he had seen in the courtyard, the training sessions, were nothing compared to the spectacle here.
The Aquarion made the first move. He struck his staff on the ground, shouting, "Frigus!"
An icy wave spread rapidly across the arena floor towards the creature, trying to make the Snow Ripper's feet slip.
Simultaneously, the Eluvian archer drew his bow. When the arrow left the string, an invisible wind accelerated it, aiming straight for the creature's single eye. But the Snow Ripper was no fool. It dodged the incoming arrow at the last moment by ducking its head.
Despite the ice under its feet, it maintained its balance with surprising agility and lunged forward with a deafening roar.
The burly Northerner raised his shield, planting his feet more firmly. The earth beneath his feet swelled again, this time forming a higher, more solid barrier.
The Snow Ripper slammed into the barrier without regard, its immense strength cracking the earthen wall, but it had slowed its momentum somewhat. That's when the axe wielding warrior made his move.
He lunged forward. While the creature's attention was diverted, he landed a powerful blow on its thick furred side. The axe tore through flesh, the creature roared in pain but had taken less damage than expected.
Being wounded further enraged the Snow Ripper. It whipped its tail like a lash, sending the axe wielding warrior flying backward. It turned towards the archer, slashing the air with one of its claws. The archer barely dodged to the side.
The creature charged the burly Northerner, relentlessly striking his shield and the earthen barrier. The shield caved in more with each blow. The earthen barrier was riddled with cracks, but the burly Northerner, gritting his teeth, muscles trembling, held his ground. His resistance bought the others precious seconds.
The Aquarion repeatedly struck his staff on the ground, trying to renew the layer of ice gripping the creature's feet, but ice's effect rapidly diminished, providing at most a few moments of slowing.
The Eluvian archer, meanwhile, was constantly on the move, aiming his wind assisted arrows at the creature's less protected joints, around its eye, and at open wounds. With each successful hit, the creature roared in pain, its attention diverted.
This was a war of attrition. The four warriors moved with a coordination born of years together.
The creature's thick pelt was covered in countless cuts, the flowing blood dyeing its dirty white fur red. Several times, especially after a critical shot from the Archer and a sudden earth raising maneuver by the burly Northerner, it lost its balance and seemed about to fall. In those moments, a hopeful roar would rise from the stands, and bookies would hold their breath. But the Snow Ripper's endurance was unbelievable.
After each fall, it seemed to rise even angrier, even stronger, its claws and tail lashing out with deadly speed, forcing the warriors to constantly retreat and change positions.
Roric watched calmly. "What do you think ?" he asked, his eyes on the arena. "Who will win?"
Aurelion's eyes did not leave the arena. The team's plan was good; slowing, distracting, defending, and focused damage. But the Snow Ripper's strength and endurance were incredible. "The team is tiring. They could make a mistake at any moment. And a single mistake..." The moment he had defeated Nazgûl but had also been injured himself flashed in his mind. "...against this creature is unforgivable. The team will fall apart. The monster will win."
And the mistake came. The axe wielding warrior got too close trying to help the burly Northerner who was in a tight spot. As the creature hits the burly Northerner back with a claw swipe, it swiftly turned its other arm and grabbed the axeman.
The man struggled to break free, but the creature's strength was terrifying. The Snow Ripper lifted him into the air, then swung its other claw. A high pitched sound of tearing metal, followed by a scream, echoed through the arena.
The axeman's arm was nearly torn off at the shoulder. The creature tossed him aside like a rag doll.
With that image, the team's morale completely collapsed. As the burly Northerner tried to run to his fallen comrade, the Snow Ripper attacked him too. The archer and Aquarion were desperately trying to get away.
Guards rushed in from the other side of the arena.
Their purpose was to rescue the wounded from the Snow Ripper's wrath. They were injured even while trying to distract the creature to save the wounded. Eventually, the injured warriors were carried out.
The Snow Ripper roared, proclaiming its victory.
Roric, turned to Aurelion. "Did you see?" His voice was calm. "That axeman... he was a good warrior. But he couldn't assess the current situation, and his instinct to protect his friend clouded his judgment. A momentary loss of control... You saw how heavy the price was. Just like you almost did in the courtyard, against that stupid Orc. What do you think would have happened if you had shown that carelessness here?"
"What you did in that courtyard... It's useless here, against a real enemy. It only makes you an easier target."
Aurelion was silent. The answer was obvious. He would probably die.
"That's why," Roric continued, standing up. "We don't tell you everything at once. That's why there's training. That's why there are rules. Every step you take before your mind and body are ready for these realities will only bring you closer to death." He placed his hand lightly on the boy's shoulder. "But you have potential. If you are disciplined, learn control, and take the training we offer you seriously... One day, you can step into that arena and defeat that Snow Ripper. Or maybe... more." His last word hung in the air, hinting at a multitude of possibilities.
The Captain turned his back, giving Aurelion time to think, and headed for the exit.
Aurelion, still seated, looked at the scene below. He looked at the monster roaring in victory below, at the bloody sand, and at the emptying stands. What he had seen, heard, and felt... His mind was in turmoil.
The desire for power still burned, but now a cold reality and perhaps... a sense of responsibility he had never felt before had been added to it. Linnea's agreement, Roric's lesson... Control. He had to learn. This was the true key to power.
He slowly stood up and silently followed Roric into the dim corridor. The world was still full of unknowns, but the path had become a little clearer.
As they stepped out from the massive stone arches, he lifted his head and looked around. After the sterile observation point of the box, mingling with the crowd was a sensory bombardment. People passing by were heatedly discussing the recent fight, cursing lost bets, speaking with awe or fear of the victorious monster's strength.
"That idiot axeman! Did you see how he jumped in?" grumbled a thick furred Northerner to his companion. "All my money gone because of that fool!"
In another corner, a Saharan merchant was smiling slyly. "I told you, the Snow Ripper is unbeatable! The winner isn't always the strongest, sometimes it's just the most savage."
Aurelion listened to these comments with cold interest. His mind analyzed this primitive excitement of the people, this entertainment built on blood and violence. As he tried to suppress the savage satisfaction within himself, he contemplated the irony of others experiencing it so openly.
Roric noticed how the boy, standing silently beside him. "What's going through your mind ?"
Aurelion turned his gaze to Roric. "People..." he said in a thoughtful voice. "Strange beings. A few minutes ago, they were watching those whose lives hung by a thread and betting on them. Then they argue and laugh as if nothing happened. Their emotions are so volatile and... superficial." Roric nodded slightly, weighing the boy's sharp but ruthless observation. He had just opened his mouth to reply when a lively, mocking female voice from behind interrupted them both:
"Hah! Honey drips from your mouth, whelp! You said exactly what I was thinking!" The owner of the voice easily slipped through the crowd and approached them.
Aurelion turned around with a momentary flash of annoyance at being interrupted, but the sight that met his eyes turned his annoyance into a mixture of curiosity and astonishment.
The woman before him was enormous. Almost as tall as Roric, perhaps one ninety. She had messy, black hair cascading over her shoulders and wore practical but quality looking, dark, flexible leather armor. A remarkable weapon was slung across her back. A long spear of dark wood with intricate silvery carvings. But what gleamed at the tip of the spear was not metal. It was a smooth, circular object of pure, white, glowing with a faint inner light... Just like those shiny stones he had seen earlier, it was apparently a Core.
But the woman herself was even stranger. Although her features and general build resembled a Northerner's, the skin visible on her arms and neck, exposed by the armor, was a pale, bluish hue, scale like texture could be discerned. She had a wide smile, and when she smiled, her longer and sharper than normal teeths became prominent.
This woman, just like Roric and the War Chief, was someone who didn't fit known molds, someone "changed."
The woman gave the boy a friendly pat on the back. "Like I said, you're right, kid! Most of this crowd doesn't know what they're watching, they just come for the smell of blood."
Aurelion flinched at this sudden physical contact.
Roric's face instantly hardened. "Thyra. What are you doing here?"
Thyra laughed. "Aww, Captain! What's with the long face? You used to be more fun. I haven't seen you around here for a long time, I thought you'd given up on the arena." Her eyes slid curiously to Aurelion.
"I have more important businesses," Thyra's presence clearly annoyed him.
Thyra grinned, raising an eyebrow and gesturing towards Aurelion. "Is this cute little friend your more important business then? Wow Roric, not your style at all. I never thought I'd see you playing nanny to a little Elf boy."
Aurelion silently watched the two giants. The tension between them was palpable. Roric's facial muscles twitched. The woman's words had clearly struck a nerve.
Roric took a heavy step towards Thyra. The intense, suppressed wave of energy emanating from Roric was instantly palpable. The air seemed to thicken, even the noise of the surrounding crowd receded for a moment.
Even from where he stood, Aurelion felt the crushing pressure radiating from Roric's aura.
The relaxed smirk on Thyra's face faded slightly. She had understood the kind of power Roric displayed with just one step. She realized she had pushed her luck too far.
She raised her hands as if in surrender, taking a slight step back. "Hey hey, okay Captain, calm down. I was just kidding." Her eyes shifted back to Aurelion, this time with pure curiosity rather than mockery. "I was just surprised to see such a... sweet little thing with you."
Roric didn't answer. He just scanned Thyra with his pitch black eyes for a few more seconds. Then he suddenly turned. "Come," he said to Aurelion, short and clear.
Without another word, he began to weave through the crowd, moving away from the arena. Aurelion glanced back one last time, watching Thyra, who was following Roric with her eyes. The woman was looking at them, that strange, unreadable smile still on her face.
Roric led him to a quieter side street, where the torchlight was sparser.
He leaned against a low stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Captain," Aurelion said immediately. "That woman... Thyra... Who was she?"
Roric grunted. "It doesn't matter who she was. Just... an old pain in the neck."
"But she was like you," Aurelion pressed. "Changed. Is she strong too?"
Roric hesitated for a moment. He might not like Thyra, but he couldn't deny the truth. "Yes," he said reluctantly. "She is strong. Very strong."
That slight, knowing smirk appeared on Aurelion's lips again. "Then Captain... Why did she back down when you just took a few steps? Even if she is that strong, your presence... your pressure... it scared her." He fixed his gaze on Roric. "Perhaps she's not as strong as she thinks. Or... perhaps you are much, much stronger than you let on. That Snow Ripper in the arena... it might not even be a match for you, right?"
Roric surprised but didn't show it. That faint, mysterious smile appeared on his face again.
Instead of answering, he lifted his head and looked at the dark sky, where the stars that illuminated. "What you saw today... that fight in the arena, how the cores are used, that troublemaker Thyra... Even my little "demonstration"..." He turned back to Aurelion. "This little trip of ours... I think it was productive. It gave you a lot to think about."
"You saw reality. Raw, brutal, but also full of potential. Now, rather than boring advice, you've witnessed it with your own eyes. What happens next... is up to you."
Aurelion listened carefully to Roric's words. He was right. Everything he had seen today was perhaps more valuable than the hundreds of parchments he had read within the four walls of the orphanage.
The world was much more complex and dangerous, but the goals to be achieved had also become much clearer. The desire for power still burned within him, yes. But now, this desire was not a blind rage.
It had begun to take shape. That "intensity" within him was still there, but he was now beginning to see it not as an enemy, but as raw energy that needed to be trained, to be directed. The road was still long, obstacles still remained. But the goal... the goal was clearer than ever.
The deal he made with Linnea, Roric's unexpected lesson... They all pointed in the same direction. "I understand, Captain, I will learn. I will grasp control. And this thing inside me... I will only unleash it when I am ready."
Roric just nodded. Perhaps this small, Elf was heading in the right direction. Or perhaps he was preparing for a bigger storm. Only time would tell.