Dragon Heart: Land of The Enemy. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 8 Read online

  “That he was actually a Prince. Some say that his father was the rightful ruler, others claim that he was a traitor. That the Prince, a simple practitioner, killed his uncle to regain the throne. That his brother and sister-in-law paid the price for his foolish actions. That only he and the Princess were left standing in the end. It’s said that she defeated the Prince in battle and that he was never seen nor heard from again.”

  Hadjar felt his heart ache. Memories of a distant past flashed through his mind. He saw the faces of every person that was no longer with him. The people he’d fought side by side with against the nomads in the Mountains of Eternal Wind, the ones he’d gone to Balium with, had shed sweat, blood, and tears with. Somewhere far away, in the endless Wastelands, war drums began to beat. The sound of weapons striking heavy shields echoed along with them.

  “Mad General! General Hadjar!” Thousands of throats shouted.

  “Some say that the Prince didn’t disappear, but went to the Empire instead, to kill the Emperor and avenge the death of his parents and friends. Others claim that he wanted to grow stronger in order to kill the gods, as they were to blame for all his suffering-”

  “Kill the gods?” Hadjar laughed quietly. “That sounds so silly, doesn’t it?”

  “It does. They also say that he liked to smoke… A pipe. One that looked just like the one you’re smoking now.”

  They sat in silence for a while, looking at the snowcapped mountains. The wind blew quietly, brushing away the red sand and exposing the roads of the ancient city in whose ruins they’d made camp. Long ago, they’d been magnificent buildings. The people back then must’ve thought that they’d remain glorious for centuries to come.

  “My father was killed by his brother,” Anise suddenly said. “For the sake of the clan. He didn’t want a woman to be the next Head... It goes against tradition.”

  Hadjar turned to her. Her green eyes reflected the moonlight like the blade of a sharp knife.

  “He gathered his followers and snuck into my father’s Palace at night. He killed both him and my mom. And then he slaughtered all our relatives. Only Tom and I were spared.”

  “Anise, I-”

  She shook her head.

  “I wasn’t killed or imprisoned so that I could serve as a warning to future generations — the Predatory Blades clan was never nor will ever be ruled by a woman. I was made a servant. My uncle’s eldest son became the next heir.”

  Anise brushed her hand over her cheek. A drop fell to the sand and instantly disappeared. Be they young or old, man, or woman, warriors didn’t cry. They fought, killed, and died. But they didn’t cry.

  “Tom and I are a disgrace,” she continued. “If we hadn’t entered the School, we would’ve been killed. You know, the worst thing is that my uncle was supported by the elders, my great-grandparents. They supported his fratricide”

  Hadjar understood her anger, but he also understood the elders. For the sake of the clan, they’d sacrificed their grandchild.

  South Wind had taught him to never trust aristocrats when he’d been just a boy. He was told to think of them as beings that he’d never understand and who’d never understand him. He now knew these words to be true.

  “You want revenge,” he realized. “That’s why you entered the School. To get stronger and get your revenge.”

  Anise turned to him. Eyes glowing with rage, she moved her hand to the hilt of her sword.

  “Are you judging me? How dare you?”

  Chapter 662

  D espite the fact that Anise was ready to draw her blade, Hadjar remained calm.

  “You’re right,” he said.

  “I know I’m right, and-”

  Hadjar covered her hand with his. She shuddered. The rage disappeared from her eyes, replaced by confusion and embarrassment.

  “Long ago, I knew the Mad General,” he said. “He was my shield against the storms that plagued my Kingdom, and the shadow I hid in.”

  Anise’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t have to be a math prodigy to figure out how old Hadjar actually was if what he was saying was true. But how could that be? No one could fool the School’s age test.

  “But how-”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Hadjar moved his hand away and inhaled again. He puffed out a ring of smoke. It still wasn’t as smooth and well-formed as the ones Nero had used to make, but it was decent. “Have you heard the story about how the Mad General met his white cub?”

  Just as he asked that, Azrea popped out from under his shirt. With a big yawn, she climbed up onto his shoulder, curled her tail around herself, and lay down.

  “The Mad General was just a young soldier when he met an old, wise tigress,” Hadjar continued. “She asked him to forgo revenge, and seek justice instead. However, the General didn’t listen to her and was almost consumed by the flames that had previously supported him.”

  They were both silent for a while after that. Hadjar recalled the ravine and the tigress’ voice. He was much wiser now than he’d been back then.

  “And what’s the difference between revenge and justice?” Anise asked, abruptly moving away from him.

  Hadjar could almost feel the storm raging in her heart. Sometimes, during moments of meditation, he could still hear his mother’s final words. Each syllable was a blade that had left a deep scar on his soul. He would endure those wounds for the rest of his life. Some said that those who didn’t know pain were quicker to step foot on the path of cultivation than those who did. However, it was the latter who usually reached their goal first.

  They sat there for a while, and then Anise stood up.

  “I had hoped to talk to the Mad General,” she said as she walked away.

  Azrea poked Hadjar’s cheek with her nose and then slipped back into his shirt.

  What Anise needed right now were his assurance and his support. He should’ve said that she’d get her revenge and that her uncle deserved the worst kind of death, one that even the gods would shudder to witness. But Hadjar couldn’t tell her that. Not so long ago, he had told Derek what he’d wanted to hear. With his own actions, Hadjar had lit the flame of revenge and sowed the seed of hatred in the young man’s chest. One day, the two of them would face each other in battle. When that time came, Hadjar wouldn’t hold back. The same hands that had given the boy life would take it away. Derek’s life would become another burden that he would carry for the rest of his life. Just as he carried Nero and Sera’s. Hadjar remembered his Uncle Primus’ death. Lying on the grave of his brother, the traitor had shed tears of anguish.

  Hadjar didn’t know what exactly had made Anise’s uncle do what he’d done. However, he did know one thing for certain: revenge wasn’t something that would help a warrior survive. It would help one grow stronger, but not find themselves. It was like a fire that burned brightly, but only as long as more wood was added to it. And revenge always ran out of wood eventually. As the wise Traves, who’d been imprisoned for many thousands of centuries, had once told him: “When you confuse justice with revenge, you confuse the moonlight with the sunlight.” Hadjar wanted to help Anise. He wanted to give her answers, but he had none. Even after all these years, he still hadn’t found them.

  “What are you doing here?” Hadjar asked the darkness.

  “Sightseeing.”

  The darkness deepened and then turned purple. All of a sudden, Helmer was sitting at his side, that same, sly grin on his gray face.

  Hadjar wasn’t afraid of him even though Helmer was strong enough to kill him in a heartbeat. Since he hadn’t killed him yet, that meant he still needed him for something.

  “So, what are you doing here?”

  Helmer sneered at him. His eyes shone faintly in the light of the full moon. The incarnations of fear swirling around his feet started fighting each other.

  “Don’t brood!” He tapped Hadjar on the shoulder. His touch was as cold as the air around them. “So I played a little trick on you with the whole Dah’Khasses thing. You aren’t still m
ad, are you?”

  “I’m not.”

  “That’s great! So-”

  “Enough.” Hadjar interrupted him. “Just because I can’t guess your plans, that doesn’t mean I think you don’t have any.”

  “Clever little bugger, aren’t you?” The demon smiled wide. By the Evening Stars, his ugly mug would’ve scared even the manticore away. “I have a little favor to ask of you, Hadjar.”

  “Have we gone from deals to favors now?”

  “A contract takes forever to write up.” The demon shrugged. “And favors… Well, don’t friends normally do favors for one another? Or is that what lovers do? Don’t get offended, you’re a handsome guy, but I don’t… We’re good friends, after all, so let’s not mix business with ple-”

  “Get to the point.”

  Helmer laughed and then suddenly turned serious. “Whatever else you do out here, Hadjar, try to survive.”

  “What?” he asked in confusion and turned to Helmer, but he was no longer there.

  With Helmer suddenly appearing in the Wastelands, the Empire’s intrigues and tasks took a back seat. Hadjar was now focused on trying to understand what the hell was going on here.

  Chapter 663

  T he following morning, everyone warmed up as best they could. Although they’d done their best to ward off the cold last night, they were still feeling a bit chilly. Being seasoned adventurers, they had learned long ago that one had to be ready for everything, which is why everyone had taken warm clothes with them despite the fact that they’d been going to a desert region. Dora and Anise, who’d been treating Hadjar like her other older brother since last night, put on long fur coats. Any common girl from Dahanatan would’ve sold her soul for one.

  Hadjar, being a poor commoner who preferred practicality over luxury, wore a woolen coat fastened with a simple belt. The wool used to make his coat had come from a three-humped leopard, a terrible mountain creature that was a crossbreed between a camel and a leopard.

  As they were getting ready, he pondered the purpose of Helmer’s visit. The demon never came to see him for no reason, and his visits never boded well for Hadjar. However, last night, the demon had seemed genuinely concerned about his wellbeing. In the language of ancient monstrosities, the demon’s request for him to stay alive could’ve meant just about anything. After all, Helmer and his kin perceived time, life, and death rather differently from humans. Maybe his request had been a hint of some sort, or maybe it had started a chain of events that only he knew about. Perhaps it had all just been some stupid joke of his.

  Fucking hell!

  “Now you really look like a barbarian,” Einen winked at him.

  Given his permanently closed eyes, Einen wrinkled his cheek instead of winking normally.

  “You too.” Hadjar snorted, looking at his friend’s coat. It was made from the white skin of some sea animal.

  “Are you two done?” Tom, who was wearing a very expensive and luxurious winter coat embroidered with fur and golden thread, handed them each an amulet. “Take this.”

  “What is it?” Hadjar asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

  Despite the fact that Dora and Anise had been given similar amulets, he was in no hurry to put his on.

  “They’re signal amulets,” Tom explained. “In case you get lost.”

  Hadjar gave him an appraising look. With a nod, he hung the amulet around his neck. Einen followed his example. After receiving instructions on how to use the artifact, Hadjar went over to Azrea. The tigress was sprawled out on the grass and looking sadly at her two-legged friend.

  “Wait for me here.” He scratched her behind the ear. “We’ll be back soon enough... In the meantime, keep an eye on those herbivores.”

  The tigress snarled, bumped Hadjar’s shoulder with her head, then turned to the grazing horses. It would be unwise to take them up the mountains as they weren’t suited for travel on such uneven terrain. But they couldn’t leave them unattended, either. So, Azrea had to play the role of a watchdog.

  Leaving the tigress behind, Hadjar returned to the squad. After they put their hoods on, they began their journey up the sheer cliffs. With one jump, provided they had a good base to push off from, they could cover about ten yards. Climbing the mountain, which would take a mortal more than a day, was no different than a walk to them. However, that was only true until the rocks began to disappear beneath the snow.

  The moment Hadjar stepped foot on the white ‘carpet’, his body was instantly gripped by an alien power. It tried to get under his skin, but bumped into his coat and stumbled. Even though they’d all used a Technique for Strengthening the Body, their hands and faces instantly turned red. Clouds of steam escaped from their mouths. Their very Cores shivered from the cold.

  To make sure that their journey would be as safe as possible, they’d tied themselves to each other’s belts with a special rope. It was only as thick as a finger, but could handle a lot of weight.

  Einen was at the front as his spear-staff Techniques were the best suited for cutting a path through the snow. Fortunately, the weather was on their side, so they had no problems navigating.

  The vast expanses of white, dotted with black rocks and blue blocks of ice, evoked distant memories. Hadjar could almost hear a wolf howling and a white ape roaring in the distance.

  “Go right!” Tom, who was bringing up the rear, suddenly shouted.

  Einen, instead of following his instructions, froze in place. Hadjar stopped behind him. The two exchanged a glance, drew their weapons, and turned toward their ‘allies’. The siblings did the same. Dora, biting her lip, looked at Einen in confusion.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Tom snapped.

  “That’s what we’d like to know! Explain why we’re heading in a direction only you know about!”

  “We-”

  “Don’t lie,” Einen warned, the figure of an armored ape appearing behind him.

  The tension grew between the former allies.

  “Fuck!” Dora hissed. “I warned you that we should just tell them!”

  “And what if they’re traitors?” Tom asked, his blade still held at the ready. “We don’t really know anything about them. Except that they have way too many secrets.”

  “And who doesn’t?” Dora argued and then turned back to the two friends. “We’re going to Greven’Dor.”

  “Greven... What?” Hadjar asked.

  “The ancient abode-”

  “Dora,” Anise warned, but the elf ignored her.

  “It’s remained closed for the last couple of eons.”

  “Then why is it open now?”

  Dora glared at the siblings, but their expressions gave away nothing, except for anger.

  “It’s a long story. Essentially, it popped into our minds when we first saw the key to Decater’s tomb.”

  Hadjar felt a shift in Einen’s mood.

  “We?” He asked dryly. “You knew?”

  Dora’s lips twitched.

  “I’m sorry, Einen, I couldn’t tell you and...” She looked down. She was struggling to talk, like she was fighting against some kind of spell. “It doesn’t matter. Greven’Dor is where the Last King was trained.”

  Hadjar heard a raven croak in the distance and felt a shiver run down his spine.

  “What do you think we’ll find there?”

  “Nothing.” Tom slid his sword back into its scabbard. Retrieving a stick from his spatial ring, he began to dig a second tunnel, circling around the squad. “But there aren’t enough cultivators in the Wastelands to find both the key and the map. We have a two-week head start, so we can spare some time to explore. It won’t cost us anything.”

  Einen, the expression on his face as cold as the snow around them, continued digging his tunnel.

  Hadjar looked at the mountain peaks.

  “Tell us what you know,” he demanded, each word as sharp as a blade.

  Never trust an aristocrat…

  They continued north.

  Chapte
r 664

  “M entions of this place are very rare,” Dora began. Of the three nobles, she was the only one willing to share her knowledge with the two friends. “Of all the great clans of the Empire, only mine and theirs have scrolls that talk about Greven’Dor,” she said, nodding at the Dinos siblings.

  Hadjar sighed heavily. The eastern wind started blowing, bringing snow with it. Not knowing what to expect from Dora, Anise, and Tom, Hadjar surreptitiously made some gestures to Einen. The islander responded with a few of his own.

  “My father and the Head of the Predatory Blades clan knew about this campaign before anyone else did,” Dora continued.

  “I’m not surprised,” Hadjar replied, looking westward. After the winter he had spent in Balium, he knew that, in the mountains, the east wind was always followed by a storm coming from the west.

  “The Imperial Chancellery probably knows about the existence of Decater’s tomb and how to find it,” Tom said. He went back to his position at the rear and kept a watchful eye on Einen and Hadjar. But no matter how vigilant he was, he lacked experience. “Its task is to safeguard it in case-”

  “Of war.” Einen finished for him.

  With another swing of his spear-staff, he cleared a few more yards of snow. A mortal would’ve felt like they were hitting a slab of granite.

  “That’s right,” Tom said, voice clearly strained.

  No matter how strong the nobles were, they were like houseplants. Well-groomed and healthy, but without any real life experience. Unlike outdoor plants, and those that lived in the wild, their world was limited to whatever they could see through the window. If even that much.

  “So, you knew about the key and the map?” Hadjar asked.

  “No!” Dora exclaimed. “As soon as the rector made the announcement, both Tom and I were summoned back home.”

  So that’s why you were so late back then... Campaign preparations, my ass...

  “If you think that visiting the Predatory Blades clan is a pleasant experience, barbarian, you’re sorely mistaken.”

  Catching a snowflake brought by the north wind, Hadjar ignored Tom. The storm was no more than half an hour away. Those who’ve never been trapped in a blizzard couldn’t possibly understand what he was feeling right now. It was a strange mixture of excitement and primal terror. The rocks around them no longer looked like spear tips, but their only salvation instead.