Fate: Hero and Sword

A Duke, owning a substantial portion of land filled with his subjects.

Yet this emblem was the present root of his misery.

"After him, he went that way!"

Voices travelled overhead, gruff and hurried, mixed with urgency and the thumping of heavy footsteps.

Vincent slowed his breath, pressing his body down harder against the ground in the undershrub in hopes of burying himself within the leaves and foliage that proliferated unchecked in the wilderness.

It had been a traditional hunting trip passed down from father to son, and at the eve of his twentieth summer, it was his turn to take up the tradition. To hunt for a special kind of animal found in the wilderness that bordered the boundaries of the North. An animal called a blood wolf known for leaving behind the mark of a fang on the wrists of those that had slayed its kind, allowing other members of the species to take revenge. However, it was this mark itself that garnered the greatest honour to the Berferd Family for it would never fade and would act as a symbol of power for the Berferd Family head.

Regardless of how difficult it was to kill a blood wolf, Vincent himself couldn't shy away from the task for the sake of his father.

As such, he had taken an entourage of his personal guards and ventured forth to hunt as tradition required. Only, he didn't expect relations between the Nobles of the South to be so strained that they would target him in hopes of weakening the Berferd Family's strength.

Vincent gritted his teeth as his ears perked up to listen to the noise around him, waiting until the forest itself fell silent before shifting himself to a more comfortable position.

It was true that the Berferd Family's strength was already declining, but that didn't mean that it was because of a lack of management. Instead, it was a result of the changing times and the family's misfortune in regards to capable heirs.

Nonetheless, this wasn't exactly a point that Vincent wanted to think about at the moment as he deemed it safe enough to inspect his surroundings.

His entourage of guards had long since separated from, and were most likely routed and killed by the enemy.

His expression turned grim, mourning the loss of those who had been by his side since adolescence.

He hated it.

The fact that he was dragged into all of this.

In the first place, the Berferd Family had already raised its stance on the issues regarding the other Nobility in the Southern Roble Kingdom. They wouldn't be participating and would simply wait until a conclusion was reached no matter how long it took.

However, the Berferd Family possessed a strategic plot of land that acted as a buffer zone between the hostile Southern Aristocracy of one side, and the Aristocracy of the other. Their land was vital in order to tip the tides on any side's favour, and the Berferd Family had consequently neglected this issue.

After all, the Berferd Family was a family that fought alongside the original Holy Maiden of the Roble Holy Kingdom. The Valkyrie Knight Wielding the Holy Blade which fought against the Evil Deities that annihilated entire civilizations and Kingdoms.

There were certain ideals and iron clad beliefs that were solidified in the Family.

A concept carried by the Holy Maiden long after she had disappeared along with her Holy Sword.

The Oaths of Chivalry.

A Code of Honour passed down in memory through the Berferd Family line.

A way of living by virtue of trust and faith.

The Southern Noble Families had sworn to leave the Berferd Family out of the political struggles, and it was through tradition that the Berferd Family fully believed them.

Despite Vincent's current predicament, he never once turned his back on the values he was raised with, for he believed in the stories of the past spoken to him by his grandfather.

To remain a Champion of the Right and the Good, and to defeat the Evil and Unjust.

Believe in one's self, and those around.

Struggling to his feet, Vincent panted from exhaustion, but quickly limped off in hopes of escaping. The men that had been chasing after him for the past hour were still in the area, and any chances he had of surviving relied on his ability to send word to his father.

His feet hurt, the leather boots he was wearing doing little to stop the pain of the blisters sending acute stinging sensations throughout his body.

And yet, he persevered forward, relying mainly on intuition and the positioning of the sun in the sky to map out which direction to follow.

Minutes passed, the soft sound of feet rustling against the ground echoing throughout the forest canopy.

Before Vincent knew it, he felt a keen sense of danger that forced him to shoot towards the ground.

An arrow passed overhead, tinged with poison and pinning itself into the bark of the tree behind him.

"Cowards!" He yelled out, drawing forth his sword from his waist.

It wasn't a magic or Holy Sword used by Paladins and Knights, but one of regular make and steel.

"Come out and fight if you wish to kill me! What good does hiding your faces away like petty assassins do for your honours!?" Vincent seethed.

Silence, nothing but the sound of falling leaves, granted Vincent understood why the enemies were being so precautious. There was a risk involved should Vincent see the faces of his assailants and then somehow manage to get away.

It was true that Vincent was chased around before, but based on the clothing and personalities of his chasers, they were hired bandits at best. This archer however was clearly trained, and must be affiliated with another Noble.

They would not take unnecessary risks.

Vincent slouched in a combination of fatigue and helplessness.

"Why?!" He ended up asking. "On your Lord's Honour, an Oath was made. Will you break it so brazenly and without guilt!?"

This time, Vincent heard the distinct sound of a breath.

"Honour? Guilt?" The voice that spoke was smug, and was somehow able to emit from various places at once; possibly the result of a transmission-type tier-one magic. "You think such traditions are worth anything these days? Ambition and progression are all that matter, and the results can justify the means."

Silence.

"Oaths and promises?" The voice began as the distinct sound of an arrow being nocked resounded. "The beliefs and virtues of fools. Goodbye Lord Berferd."