Chapter 24: Fatherhood
“All aboard! All aboard the Express!”
Miriam’s voice echoed through the village, a horde of villagers suddenly rushing towards the train with their luggage in hand. A combination of leather bags, suitcases, and anything they could use to stuff and carry their belongings. In a matter of seconds, a lengthy line of villagers was stacked at the entrance of the Express, their collective weight applying hazardous amounts of pressure on the wooden docks.
The wood would creak at the slightest movement, and some villagers began to worry about the docks collapsing.
“Stay calm, everyone!” Miriam calls out, outstretching her hand as a light green Magic Circle appears in her palm. Vines would sprout from it, extending downwards and weaving themselves through the gaps in the wood. The vines layered themselves under the wood, adding an additional layer of foundation.
“You’ll have to trust me,” she echoed, “it won’t fall, I promise you.”
Miriam then gestures for the villagers to continue piling into the train one by one. They move in a single file line, immediately taking any seats they could find once they got inside. Aitheos stood at the door, helping the villagers carrying their belongings inside. As soon as the train started to become crowded, Miriam immediately cut off the line, stepping in front of the next person and putting her palm up.
“That’s all we can take for now, sorry ma’am.”
“Aw,” Mrs. Marshall pouts, turning around to look at her husband, “well, I guess this means we can spend a bit more time together before I leave.”
“I’m sure Maru wouldn’t mind either honey, because I sure don’t.” Mr. Marshall smiles, giving his wife a tight hug and a kiss on her cheek.
“Will you be staying here, Mr. Marshall?” Miriam asked.
“Yes. My daughter and I are capable of fighting, so we’ll be staying behind according to the plan. My wife here will be the only one in our family boarding the train.”
Miriam takes a few steps towards Mr. Marshall, extending her hand out for a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, and I’m glad you’re more than willing to defend your home and family.”
He smiles, shaking her hand firmly. “Of course, it’s what a man like me is meant to do. The village really needed some extra helping hands though, so I’m glad you couple help out Ms..?”
“Miriam,” she responded.
“Ms. Miriam, got it. How long will the train be gone, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“It’ll take a few hours for us to head to the nearest outpost and unload our cargo. Then it’ll be a few more hours before we come back. This is the second trip, so everything should be a lot smoother this time around. If everything goes according to plan, we should be back later this afternoon.”
“That works for me.” Marshall turns to face his wife again. “Alright honey, you can head back to the house and spend some time with Maru. I have to start my patrols around the island now. Orders from the Chieftain.”
Mrs. Marshall wraps her arms tightly around her husband’s waist, pulling him close. She gently clasps his chin with her thumb and index, pulling his face down to meet hers. Her thumb gently caresses his cheek as she looks deep into his eyes.
“Tell me you’ll be alright, okay?”
Marshall nods, gently grabbing his wife’s hands and holding them in his own.
“I promise you, honey, I’ll be back just in time to see you off. I’ve been fighting off bandits for many years now, there isn’t much out there that can bring me down.”
She sighs, closing her eyes and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I trust you.”
They both turn to look towards Aitheos and Miriam, waving at them as they step inside the train. The two Adventurer’s don’t return the wave, instead giving a firm salute to the two Marshalls. Mr. and Mrs. Marshall salute them back, watching as the doors to the train close and it takes off towards the sea.
Now far from home, Marshall treads along the outskirts of Redville. In one hand, he firmly holds a large halberd that towered over him in terms of length. In his other hand, a large metal shield was attached to his forearm with a singular strap. His body was covered with a smooth set of metal armor, each piece engraved with the signature insignia of Redville’s mountains. A thin helmet covered his head, with a horizontal slit through the middle for his vision. While it looked heavy, it was relatively lightweight and barely limited his mobility. With each step, the sounds of the rattling metal echoed through the trees and surrounding forestry.
The past few days have been quiet. Although Marshall wasn’t actively exploring the island in search of threats, he was capable of telling when something was going on. Usually, the Chieftain would call for the help of Sora or Maru and her friends, but recently they’ve been off-duty. Outside of helping with loading cargo onto the train, they spent a lot of time at home or doing whatever they pleased.
Marshall thought the Marastruck would’ve been more active, especially since they are constantly described as major threats. He knew that they were doing some sort of ritual so that Manho could gain his power back, but he didn’t understand why they hadn't overrun the village yet.
It doesn’t change the fact that they’re up to no good. At the end of the day, the Marastruck are still threats to the village regardless of if they attack now or later, but Marshall had a hunch that there was a piece of the puzzle missing.
He continues to walk for a few hours, spotting nothing out of the ordinary until he reaches the lowest section of the mountain range. Not far off from the main trail, he sees someone sitting down against a nearby rock. Their body was shrouded by silky red robes, engraved with golden lines and spirals at its seams. Their hair was just as silky, colored black and wavy. It was tied into a neat ponytail that rested on their shoulder.
Marshall comes to a stop, turning his body to face the stranger as he calls out to him. “Are you lost?”
The stranger props their head up, revealing their pale skin and golden eyes. “In more ways than one,” they whispered, a hint of sarcasm in their voice. As they spoke, they would lift themselves up from the rock, stretching their legs. In terms of height, they were slightly taller than Marshall despite the fact they were barefoot. Their shoulders were broader than most people, with a sinister grin on their face.
“What is your name, sir?” Marshall asked.
The stranger sharply inhales, trying to contain his own laughter.
“Manho,” he said, “excuse my unprofessional attitude today. I’m in a good mood.”
As soon as Manho said his own name, Marshall’s eyes immediately widened and he grasped his halberd tightly with one hand, holding his shield partially in front of him with the other.
Unless this man was bluffing, this was ‘the’ Manho. Though he wasn’t as renowned as Gon in terms of publicility, Manho was just as dangerous as Gon, if not more. The people from the Adventurer’s Guild described him as vulgar and vicious, showing little to no mercy to whoever crossed his path, but that description wasn’t very fitting for the person standing in front of Marshall. This man seemed reserved and relatively calm, though his awkward smile might’ve been a giveaway for his sinister intentions.
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“What’s got you in such a good mood today, Manho of the Marastruck?” Marshall spoke slowly, a clear indication of his cautiousness. While Marshall was confident in his own strength, he wasn’t sure if he could take on a Mage. It would be best to avoid combat for now, and instead try to make small talk to see if he could get any information.
Despite Marshall’s clear display of hostility with his weapon, Manho decided to humor his attempt at small talk.
“There’s this young lady that I took under my wing not too long ago. She was a lost, cold, hungry, and fragile creature. I gave her a place to stay, food to eat, and someone to look up to. Although it may not be by blood, I consider her to be my daughter. It brings me great joy to see her develop exponentially. She’s been learning so much, growing stronger, and it warms my heart.”
Manho outstretches his arm towards Marshall, a golden mist enshrouding his palm.
“You know what I mean. Isn’t that right, Mr. Marshall?”
The ground in front of Manho erupts like a volcano, with mounds of dirt being launched towards Marshall like artillery. He holds his shield up firmly, blocking the barrage of dirt while pushing his feet into the ground to keep himself steady.
He looks up, watching as Manho jumps into the air and flips over him effortlessly, landing behind Marshall on both feet. Marshall spins around, using the momentum to carry his halberd faster as the sharpened blade flies toward Manho’s abdomen. In a split second, Manho’s hand is encased in a layer of thick stone, and he bashes it against the halberd, knocking it away and leaving Marshall staggered.
With the knight’s defense left wide open, Manho takes forward to close the distance and uses that same hand to send a powerful punch flying toward Marshall’s chest. His knuckles collide with the metal shield, as Marshall recovers from the parry just in time to block the attack. The force behind the punch is strong enough to send Marshall sliding backwards through the dirt, his stance still somewhat firm.
As he lowers his shield to attack Manho again, he briefly pauses, realizing that his opponent was no longer there, a mound of coarse dirt left in his stead.
Something kicks him from behind, strong enough to send the knight tumbling forward face first through the dirt. As soon as Marshall recovers, he stands up straight and looks around. His body was starting to ache from the pain, but it wasn’t enough to put him out of the fight yet.
Manho stands a few feet away, crossing his arms and tapping his foot.
“Aren’t you a father too, Marshall? I’ve seen you in paintings and pictures around Redville, posing with your family, with that valiant and heroic smile on your face.”
Marshall grunts, partially holding his shield up with one hand in case Manho decides to attack again. He was fast, too fast for Marshall to try to react to his attacks. It’d be better for him to try and predict his movements, but even that would be difficult.
“I am a father, a proud one at that. There aren’t a lot of things that bring you more joy than watching your children grow and develop to be the best they could be.”
“I’ve seen it with my own eyes, the fruits of her labor. She’s not as strong as most Mages, but she certainly has the wit and resilience to become like them. It’s the duty of the father to protect her as best they can until she can wander the world on her own.”
“What are you getting at with this?”
“Consider this battle a test. A test of your own strength and endurance to see if you can protect your daughter when the time comes.”
Manho waves his hand in the air, a large boulder erupting from the ground in front of him and flying into the air, reaching its peak around his head level. As the boulder starts to fall down, Manho raises his leg and kicks the boulder, shattering it into dozens of smaller rocks that were hurling toward Marshall.
“A test?” Marshall muttered, holding his shield up while dashing forward. Once close enough, he uses one hand to thrust his halberd forward, aiming its pointed edge at Manho’s chest.
“You don’t need to test me, Manho. I know my limits, I know what I can and cannot face.”
Manho steps to the side, grabbing the head of the halberd with one hand. Before Marshall could pull his weapon back, Manho snaps the wooden handle in half, then tosses the now fractured head of the weapon aside.
“Do you? Or do you cower in fear when faced with great adversity? Does your own life come before your own daughter’s?”
“That’s where I differ.” Marshall tosses the broken handle aside, pulling his fist close to his face and taking a fighting stance. He bends his knees slightly, lowering his body so that the shield covers most of it.
Manho waves his hand in the air again, tree roots sprouting up by Marshall's feet. They wrap themselves tightly around his ankles, securing him in place as Manho lunges forward. The knight has no choice but to block with his shield, taking the full force of the first punch.
“No matter what I’m faced with, I’ll never cower.”
A second punch follows behind the first one in quick succession, increasing the size of the dent further.
“Even if God himself stood before me and threatened my daughter, nothing would move me.”
The shield caves after a third punch, with its metal frame shattering and collapsing to the ground. Manho’s fist pierces through, flying toward Marshall’s head.
The knight moves his head to the side and narrowly weaves around the attack, moving one foot forward as the roots shackling him snap under pressure. He takes a step closer to Manho, reeling his fist back and throwing it forward with all of his weight. Marshall’s fist miraculously hits Manho with enough force to send him flying a few feet into the air.
“It doesn’t matter how strong she gets, and it doesn’t matter how weak I am in comparison. I’ll protect my daughter whenever I can, even if it costs me my own life.”
Manho winces slightly from the pain as he goes flying, holding his hand over the spot where he was hit.
he thought to himself, looking down at Marshall as he gracefully fell to his feet.
Manho smiles, pleased with his realization.
“Maybe this test wasn’t for me,” Marshall continued, “maybe it was for yourself. You wanted to see if you would be able to handle me in a fight, right? Because if you could take on me, then you’d be able to face just about any of the other village’s warriors.”
Manho chuckles and applauds the knight by clapping his hands. “Well, the books described you as Redville’s greatest warrior, but you’ve since retired. It was quite surprising to see you wear the armor again.”
“The village is in a state of crisis. You and your group of cultists could attack at any moment, and it’s the duty of people like me to be ready at any and all times. Figured I could come out of retirement to fight side-by-side with my daughter, because it may be my last.”
“Me?” Manho echoed, somewhat appalled. “Who said I was going to be the one to bring doom to your village?”
“...Are you not part of the Marastruck?”
“I might be. I’m spending my hours in the mountain range, bonding with my daughter over food and drinks. I have no reason to come and assault your people…” He pauses, turning his head in the direction of the village.
“...but someone else does.”
“Gon?” Marshall muttered. He didn’t want to say it, but it was the only other person in the Marastruck that he knew by name.
Manho turns to face Marshall again. “My friend has quite the temper, and he tends to hold very tight grudges, grudges that last a lifetime. He can be pretty reasonable at times, so you’d have to be one hell of a snake to get on his grudge list. Unfortunately for you, your village has a snake. His name is Reoh.”
Marshall stares at Manho in silence, as if trying to piece something together in his head.
“You think he didn’t do this on purpose?” Manho continued, “you think we don’t know about your new friends from the Adventurer’s Guild? Think about it, Marshall. Reoh convinced the only two people capable of taking on Gon and I to leave the island. To leave the island unattended for hours on end, knowing that we could strike at any moment. He sends you away so there is no guard at the gates, letting just about anybody waltz in while the rest of Redville’s warriors sit in rooms of rest and respite. Your people are sitting in their homes now, thinking that after a few hours they’ll be taken to a safe haven, and they think that you'll save the day and welcome them back home days later. They aren't even aware of the impending doom that is approaching them right now. It’s funny, isn’t it? It’s like he wants you to die.”
Marshall stands there, frozen in a mixture of realization and fear. Although Manho couldn’t see his eyes, he knew very well what the knight was thinking.
“What did you say about protecting your daughter? Protecting your family? You should get going.”