THE RISE OF SWORD MAN

THE IRON HAND

The Golden Cask Tavern was a festering wound in the underbelly of Valerius.The air inside the tavern was thick with the suffocating stench of cheap ale, sour sweat, and stale pipe smoke. Broken wooden tables lined the grease-stained walls, where low-lifes, cutthroats, and smugglers sat in the shadows. Dominic kept his head low, the hood of his gray traveling cloak pulled forward to obscure his glowing silver eyes. Vesper slipped through the crowd like a ghost, her movements fluid and entirely silent."See that heavy oak door at the back?" Vesper whispered, leaning closer to Dominic as they leaned against a support beam. "That leads to the counting cellar. Usually, it's just low-level thugs splitting up stolen coin. But look at the guards stationed outside it."Dominic’s eyes flicked to the back of the room. Standing outside the cellar door were two imperial city guards. They weren’t the lazy, low-ranking conscripts from the front gates. These men wore the heavy, polished bronze plate armor of the Elite Garrison, their hands resting firmly on the hilts of their broadswords."City guards protecting a bandit lair?" Dominic muttered, his jaw tightening as his knuckles turned white beneath his cloak."Not just any guards," Vesper hissed, her amber eyes narrowing. "Look who just walked in through the back alley entrance."The tavern grew noticeably quieter as a tall, imposing man stepped into the dim light. He wore a sweeping crimson cape over an intricately engraved breastplate that bore the crest of a roaring lion—the mark of a high-ranking officer. His black hair was slicked back, and a cruel, calculated arrogance radiated from his scarred face."Commander Kaelen," Vesper whispered, a rare note of genuine fear slipping into her voice. "He’s the head of the Southern District Garrison. If he’s here in person, this isn't a normal contraband drop."Kaelen didn't look at the patrons of the tavern. He walked directly to the cellar door, which opened instantly for him. Before the heavy wood swung shut, Dominic caught a glimpse of red cloaks inside—the unmistakable uniform of the Blood-Flesh Bandits."He's the one," Dominic said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, gravelly whisper. "He's the law that protects the monsters who slaughtered my village.""Dominic, wait! You can't just fight your way through an Elite Garrison Commander and a room full of bandits!" Vesper pleaded, grabbing his shoulder. "We need to get out of here and make a plan."But Dominic wasn't listening. The faint, metallic humming started in his ears again. The sword-shaped birthmark on his right forearm flared with a searing, white-hot heat that made his skin smoke beneath his tunic. The grief and rage that he had kept tightly bottled for three days erupted all at once.He didn't draw his sword yet. Instead, he walked straight toward the cellar door."Hey! Orphan! Stop right there!" one of the elite guards barked, stepping forward and placing a heavy hand on Dominic's chest. "This area is off-limits by order of the—"The guard never finished his sentence.Dominic grabbed the guard's wrist with his left hand. Utilizing the flawless leverage his father had drilled into him, Dominic twisted the man's arm downward, shattering his wrist with a sickening c***k. Before the second guard could react, Dominic drove his right elbow straight into the first guard's visor. The metal buckled, and the man collapsed into the dirt floor, unconscious.The second guard drew his broadsword with a metallic shriek. "Intruder!"The tavern erupted into chaos. Patrons scrambled over tables to escape as the second guard swung his blade in a vicious horizontal arc aimed directly at Dominic's neck.Dominic didn't step back. He pivoted on his left foot, letting the blade slice through the empty air inches from his face. In one fluid motion, Dominic reached under his gray cloak, gripped the leather hilt of his father's true steel longsword, and drew it.The blade didn't roar with silver fire this time, but a faint, razor-sharp silver aura coated the edge of the steel. Dominic brought the heavy sword down in a devastating vertical strike.CLANG.The sheer force of Dominic's strike didn't just parry the guard's broadsword—it sheared the weapon completely in half. The broken tip of the guard's blade embedded itself into the ceiling. Before the stunned soldier could comprehend what had happened, Dominic delivered a brutal front kick to his breastplate, launching him backward through the heavy oak cellar door.The door shattered inward with a deafening crash, splintering into pieces.Dominic stepped over the ruined doorway, his father's sword dripping with a cold, silver light.Inside the cavernous, torch-lit cellar, a large wooden table was piled high with chests of gold coins, jewelry, and familiar silver trinkets stolen from Oakhaven. Sitting around the table were four red-cloaked Blood-Flesh Bandits.Standing at the head of the table, his hand resting calmly on his ornate sword hilt, was Commander Kaelen.The commander looked down at the unconscious guard at his feet, then slowly raised his cold, calculating eyes to lock onto Dominic. He didn't look panicked; instead, a slow, sinister amusement crossed his face as he noticed the silver aura humming around Dominic’s blade and the glowing, sword-shaped birthmark visible through his torn sleeve."Well, well," Kaelen purred, his voice echoing in the stone cellar. "The Iron Vanguard's little cub didn't die in the ashes after all. And you brought the Prophecy Blade right to my doorstep."Dominic raised the sword, pointing the tip directly at Kaelen's heart. "You hired them to s*******r my home.""Hired them?" Kaelen laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Boy, I own them. Oakhaven was a sacrifice required to fund a much larger war. Your father was a fool to think he could hide from the Iron Syndicate forever. And now, you will join him."Kaelen waved his hand casually to the four bandits. "Kill him. Bring me his arm and his sword."The four bandits drew their scimitars and lunged forward simultaneously, their red cloaks billowing in the torchlight. Dominic took a deep breath, his silver eyes tracking their movements, ready to let the steel decide his fate.