Oathtaker | Chapter 2 - Den of Robbers

  [Last Light]

  [Sentralis]

  [04-27-5 AN]

  True to her word, it seems the young woman who claimed to be a Scout Ranger had never sent people after him. It was somewhat surprising considering he expected to turn against her word for that.

  Regardless, Mark was convinced he could find a way out of that. Probably.

  “So what took you so long?” Luke the Elven Bargeman asked as he took the payment from Mark as their barge drifted across the murky and ice cold waters.

  “Got held up by some wannabe Scout Rangers,” Mark responded as he reached into his bag and handed him a small bag of Imperial Silverware. “I couldn't find any fancy goblets.”

  “Are you kidding me? These are pretty good finds.” He said with a whistle and hid it inside a hidden compartment.

  He made a small deal with the Bargeman that in exchange for letting him be his inside man and allow him to sneak in and out the settlement during the curfew hours, he'd find him some Imperial era items that he can resell in the settlement.

  The settlement is known as Last Light which is a series of makeshift boats and buildings built along the water just miles before the Nightfall Expanse which was founded shortly after the Nightfall Cataclysm.

  What it really is in terms of terminology depends on who asks.

  To outsiders, it's a refugee camp as with many along the Sentralis after the fall of the Empire.

  But for those who live in those rafts? It is home.

  “Won't the treasure taint the fish?” Mark asked, looking at the barrels that contain Imperial Treasure now filled with fish courtesy of their friends.

  “I had them cover it with a special compartment, the fish won't be tainted by the metals that I can assure you.” Luke said as they arrived by the Gatehouse of Last Light.

  “Morning Luke, Morning Mark!” The Gatehouse Keeper Johnny said as Luke walked towards him and handed him the forms.

  “Got anything to declare?” He asked with a wink.

  “Just some fish for the people, I heard rations are getting stricter and Jimmy told us to bring these in.” Luke said, winking back as Mark scoffed.

  Johnny and Jimmy were also in their little snuggling operation to be honest. In exchange for first pickings they let them in with Jimmy offering to cover up with his fish while Johnny falsifying reports to avoid suspicion.

  But as Johnny was about to hand in the papers, someone took the form before them, Mark let out a quiet growl as his eyes landed on the person leaning by the post flanked by a handful of Soldiers from the local Militia.

  “Morning to you as well, Clint.” Mark said as he glared at the 18 year old Hyena Beastman as evident from the hyena-like ears poking out of his hair and a clearly obvious tail. His hair was dull brown hair that had streaks of black standing out while his yellow eyes glared at Mark with a mocking smirk.

  “This is rather unusual,” Clint said mockingly as he began reading the forms. “You two haul a bunch of empty barrels and yet these are filled with fish, curious.”

  “Just a charity thing,” Mark responded as he glanced at the guards flanking his sides and began to hop aboard the barge and began inspecting the barrels, this wasn't the first time Clint decided to poke his nose into where it is and they have been able to smuggle far more sensitive goods in the past through this method.

  “Heard rations were getting strict so we'd go the extra mile and distribute these, I assume that won't be a problem?” Mark said, turning his attention to Clint as he walked towards the barrels.

  “Shouldn't you be preparing for Kristoph Ranger College? Being the Golden child of the settlement I bet preparations must be hectic?” Mark added, raising an eyebrow at him.

  “That's none of your business mongrel,” He said with a smirk as he closed the distance just to size him up. It wasn't working as Mark was still a few inches taller than him.

  “Or perhaps I should have my boys…discipline you like a disobedient?” He said as one of his Militia chuckled as they ranked his hood off revealing his shoulder length black hair that was obviously dyed and lupine ears.

  “On what grounds?” Mark asked, barely fazed by his attempt at intimidation. “As far as I know Luke and I are simply doing charity work to the people who are getting hungry.”

  “Don’t care, get rid of them.” Clint nodded to the Militia who was starting to tip the fish over the water and Luke looked rather tense, Mark on the other hand remained calm despite it all as he looked at Clint.

  “What do you think the people will think the moment they see the Son of the President of Last Light and the Militia disposing of valuable foodstuffs when rations are already under strict surveillance I wonder?” Mark added as he stared back at Clint’s yellow eyes and barely flinched. Until finally Clint clicked his tongue and backed away alongside the other Militia who realized that Mark had a point.

  “You win this round, Mongrel of the People,” He said, stepping off the barge and glared at him. “You may have the people’s support but that time will end.”

  By the time the other Militia began to leave he looked at Mark one last time. “I might not be around soon, but father still has his eye on you. We know where you live.”

  “It’s a small town Clint, everyone knows where everyone lives.” Mark said as he and Luke began to move the barge away while Luke shot a glare at Clint’s retreating figure all the while the gates were raised as they entered the settlement of Last Light.

  “How do you fend off the urge to punch that stupid brat in the face?” Luke asked as soon as they were out of earshot. Admittedly despite the Werheins being the de-facto leader, they were hated by the people and could have chosen a different one had the Werheins not have the Militia under their payroll.

  “There are far more important things than to deal with petty differences,” Mark said as soon as they arrived by the port where Mark lived while grabbing his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Good luck dealing with the rest. I got what I needed from that haul.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  “Hey wait,” Luke said, grabbing an extra bag from a smaller compartment and handing it to him, looking inside reveals to be a small fortune of Thrones which is a still used currency even after the Empire fell. “That’s your share, I kept it around at the very least.”

  “You actually kept a share for me? I didn't expect that.” Mark asked and was genuinely surprised.

  “As much as a prick Clint is, he is right.” Luke said with a smile. “You’re someone people look for despite being just 18, if there’s one person here whom we’d look forward to being a Scout Ranger it’s you.”

  By some sheer coincidence, Mark is also enrolling at Kristoph Ranger College alongside Clint. Though unlike Clint who has posters and banners celebrating his Entrance, not being a top student, just barely passing the Entrance Exams of the College.

  Mark kept his application for the same College under wraps save for a few close friends.

  Him passing the entrance exam was the reason why he was out in the Expanse trying to track down the sword.

  Mark made his way to an old abandoned Blacksmith’s workshop near the edge of the Settlement. It gave him the necessities to live on a daily basis not to mention among the myriad of jobs he does on a daily basis, Courier, Carpenter, and Bargeman were a few but primarily he also works as a Blacksmith spending his time on the workshop practicing how to properly forge a weapon.

  That was important for this exact moment.

  He didn’t waste any time, he dropped his bag to the floor and took off his jacket that just fell to the ground and began to prepare the forge. He had saved enough Thrones to afford the materials needed to make a decent sword, but he needed one important component for two reasons.

  Imperial Steel.

  The creation or the ability to replicate Imperial Steel had been lost long before the Empire had fallen that the Empire itself had decided that it was far less costly to focus on maintaining the remaining stockpile of Imperial Steel than just try to rediscover how to replicate and mass produce it.

  Despite being limited, Imperial Steel swords are highly sought after for their durability but also flexibility since they are able to retain its durability and sharpness despite being modified.

  It was also symbolically important, Imperial Steel weapons are owned by high ranking members of the Empire. For Mark, it was rather fitting that he wield such a weapon of such quality and legacy but it also serves as a reminder of an oath he had taken prior to this.

  The whole night, Mark focused on cleaning the sword, the official name for the weapon. Making sure that the sword itself was clean and presentable when he uses it.

  His eyes then landed on a box hidden under his desk, he casually walked towards it and gingerly pulled out a Revolver with many often nicknaming it the Thunderbull which was a five round revolver often used by high ranking Imperial Officials with accounts claiming it has the punching power of a Bull and the sound it makes when fired is so loud that it's often compared to a Thunderclap.

  This one is a personal preference for Mark since long had a fondness for this type of Gun because as soon as he finished cleaning the sword, he went to work assembling the Thunderbull making sure each part is placed where it is and cleaned to ensure top performance.

  A small smile made its way to his lips as he looked at the two weapons he had placed on the table. The Officer Saber on one hand and the Thunderbull Revolver on the other, while he was convinced that he'd attract the mockery of the other students who likely have better weapons than him but for Mark, this was all he needed.

  [Kristoph Ranger College]

  [Revalante, Western Sentralis]

  [05-03-5 AN]

  Mark walked through the entrance halls of the Kristoph Ranger College, a Prestigious military academy designed to train the next generation of Scout Rangers which is a group of Soldiers that even before the Empire fell were considered the elite.

  Despite the overall state of things, with being five years after the Empire fell causing a power vacuum for the other States to seize it, the College was still in good condition on account of the City of Revalante being the wealthiest City and thus was able to withstand the fall.

  The original one to hold the title of wealthiest City was the Imperial Capital so by all accounts, Revalante now holds that title with reluctance.

  Mark stared above as he watched other students walk to the paths with eager looks in their eyes. But Mark can't help but feel sad as he walks through the paths as he recalled how he and his siblings agreed to attend this College to make their parents proud but it was five years ago, his siblings were missing and their parents were dead.

  He hoped that by attending this, he could get the means to find what's left of this family.

  ‘Just a little longer everyone, I'll find you all soon.’ Mark thought to himself as he kept walking as he made his way to the main hall of where all new students are gathered and throughout the way there he halls were flanked with various statues of previous Emperors with monikers of their own, above was a mural of the history of the Empire depicting the First Emperor defeating a massive dragon but the centerpiece of that Mural was perhaps the Emperor himself standing tall and defiant wielding the Imperial Sword known as “Dawnbringer” in Gold and Silver Armor surrounded by the previous Emperors and Empresses before him with similar customised armors like a council that he himself leads.

  At the center of the mural under The First Emperor himself were the words “May the Sun forever shine upon us.”

  ‘The Sol Triumphi, I've always wanted to see this directly.’ Mark couldn't help but be at awe at the sight above, growing up he was taught the Imperial Church was this religion that worships the Great Founder of the Noxsolis Empire treating him as this Hero-King that united the world under his command, those who came after him would be revered akin to Saints. His eyes landed on one corner of the Mural where a group of Painters added another addition to the pantheon. Emperor Ioshua Noxsolis Orthros who is in the process of being painted as an Armored Knight as well.

  ‘You were right father, the Sol Triumphi is truly the beauty of the Empire.’ Mark thought as he couldn't help being in awe at the glory of the Empire, especially one that had fallen only recently.

  His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the droning noise of a megaphone as he glanced at the end of the hall where the admissions booth was staged before the statue of The Archon, the epithet of the First Emperor.

  “All students must provide an offering to the Imperial Church before going forward.” One of the Faculty said as students lined up. Mark lined up as well but as he got closer he noticed that the students are sorted into two types.

  The Low Faith which are classified as Type 2 students which are in an overcrowded courtyard in the middle of the heat with no seats and the High Faith or formally known as Type 1 students who are few in number and in a cooler spot under the benches with the Faculty informing them that their faith is determined as such.

  Mark felt his blood boil, he may have less than optimistic opinions on organized religion. But he can tell this place is exploiting the Imperial Church for their own agenda.

  “The Legacy and Image of Imperial Rule,” Mark muttered in a low voice for nobody to hear and quietly glared at the booths. “Reduced to a mere marketing tool, truly the Empire has fallen.”

  By that time he had arrived at the admissions office and handed in his documents.

  “Thank you,” the Faculty said, reading his documents. “Mark Grauwolfe. And your offering to the Imperial Church?”

  “So faith is determined by wealth now?” Mark responded in a rather loud but also sarcastic scoff that caused a few people to look at him in surprise, even the other Faculty tasked in handling the other paperwork overheard his rather loud announcement looking at him almost surprised.

  “If such is the case then it seems I am poor in faith, no matter how devoted I am to the Imperial Church.” Mark said as he took the admission papers from the confused Faculty who seemed to have been taken aback by his response.

  ‘Was it that shocking to hear someone do such a thing?’ He thought as he walked away as a few students looked at him. Some of the students had this look of awe while some were practically scoffing thinking he was grandstanding or something.

  It doesn't matter for Mark.

  He didn't do that out of spite, he did that because his ancestors would have been offended to see their image and legacy reduced for financial gain.

  Makoto may not like this new life to be born into, but he won’t let that affect how Mark views his ancestors. Especially since they are very much leagues above his old family.