"Only those who aren't perturbed by precariousness of their circumstances, are noted by heaven, and marked distinct from thousand imbeciles who crave it while sleeping fruitlessly in their warm beds."- Chapter I, Verse 6, The Noble Index

............

Hues of coloured smoke bleached the atmosphere, arising from the attack on field, the soil and earth suspended high in air, like a fleeting sandstorm. The green light that been growing so adamantly in the sky had now subsumed into nothingness like a beggar which vanishes from street after having received his alms.

Zynlick had to carefully fixate his attack point, for anything too close to edge, might have put the crowd of onlookers in jeopardy. Considering the silence except for few fits of cough from old people, it was reasonable to assume that he had succeeded in that.

Despite being born into a family of magical powerhouse of Waswa's, Zynlick wasn't very keen on using magic for his attack. It wasn't that he had ever despised magic. How could he, when it was omnipresent, channelling one's life from birth to death?

But being a Waswa and born with high grade magic and that too, his special magical skill, it was hard to take any battle as a challenge. There was simply no match for it in the village. The only one who could usurp him was the village's de jure sovereign the highly acclaimed Bandit Princess.

But she was away, far away from their small village right now, ever busy in her arduous adventures. So whenever he used to get a chance, generally at behest of Rynlick or his own volition in absence of both Rynlick and his grandfather, he preferred to use combat techniques that used little to no magic.

In his eyes, since that was a skill he had learned all by himself, it felt like more appropriate parameter to gauge his opponent's strength. This red-haired witch of calamity had certainly crossed the expected level of strength on such scale but sadly, there was no way he could prolong the fight any longer.

The battle was over and the victory as always, had fallen into his hands like a readymade future the very moment he used his magic. The death serpent as the name itself gave away, was purely a lethal attack with little scope to use it as a continuous defence. An aggressive attack carried through the serpent which sprang out from the carvings on his sword, manifested alive for the particular moment, they were called to suck out all the magic from the opponent.

All beings, composed of magic , would not only lose their strength as a consequence , but also their life in entirety, as the last essence of their soul would be dined upon by snakes who would then fall into slumber and the sword would get sharper than ever with each dine, for the future battles.

Zynlick exhaled softly, his eyes closing as the smoke started to clear, wondering as to how the witch's bodily condition will be, without her soul or essence. In his mind, images of dry black corpse with wobbly skin and tattered joints, came in mind.

Seeing that state, all he would pray in his mind was that the journey to end wasn't as painful as it looked from their state of death.

"Uh.agh...Ahm...Ag..." Someone appeared to be coughing. Was it from the crowd? Zynlick opened his eye, hoping to turn around and assess the situation but his eyes stopped short of moving. The smoke was finally gone, the grass skewered across the field, uprooted in most places with wet soul flung everywhere. But sitting in the centre, with a nonchalant expression, was a face so bright that he was forced to squint his eyes.

The witch! There wasn't even a single scratch on her body?....H-how could that be? Impossible...It has to be an illusion

It was anything but inevitable for Zynlick's mind to go into a spiral of confusion, at the happenings before his eye. Not only was the witch fine but instead what he saw next, confounded him far more than anyone among the crowd of on-lookers could fathom to understand.

The two snakes that had supposedly emerged out of Zynlick's word, the twin serpents of death were grabbed by their collar, tightly between two fingers of Inana on each side. On her face, there was not even a trace of relief, as if she had somehow escaped a predicament.

How could you have possibly predicted the trajectory of snakes in such a short time, witch? How ...how did you even know that those snakes were the real executors of death and not the smoke? Why were those snakes lodged so silently? Had you always expected such kind of attack? But even so...

Questions raced furiously in Zynlick's mind, but such was his tragedy, at least in his own mind, that he couldn't even seek an answer from his able opponent – a witch who perhaps had long forgotten all ways including language, except for the beastly strength she must carry within her bosom.

No matter! A strong warrior never lets his weakness show up on surface. If he doesn't wear a face soon, then the illusion of his victory would fall apart that everyone held so firmly in their hearts.

"Hah...." Zynlick swung his sword, its blade making a sharp sound as it clashed against the ground. "So you survived that, witch. No matter, you have already dug your grave."

He must pretend that the opponent is walking in his net, rather than let the truth come to surface.

The witch gawked her eyes in confusion, before a haughty smile crept up her face. A smile so smug that Zynlick could feel all the way ire rising in his bones. Leaving her grab on serpents, she rose gracefully from the ground, taking out her sword from the ground effortlessly.

This witch!

So she had deliberately let herself fall to act to lure him to use this attack, hadn't she? Being witch, she must have long grasped his ability. Naturally, she must have also known the only two situation where his ability wouldn't be able to work.

One, where the opponent had too much magic or magic of higher grade and other, where they had already put a defensive barrier around their soul- again an attribute of higher grade magic users.

There was also a third situation where the ability wouldn't work but it was natural for someone like Zynlick – an inhabitant of this world to not even consider it within the realm of possibilities.

What if the opponent had no magic constituting their soul to begin with? For first time in her life, Inana Kawashikaze owed her life not to her skill but to her utter lack of skills.

So it was more probable for Zynlick to firmly stake on the possibility that witch had too much magic to be taken down by such serpents. The serpents vanished into thin air, as the ability phased out.

In any case, neither one of them had the real reason in mind, firmly convinced of motives they had attributed to other's shoulder.

"Mana Grade High: Serpent's Swallow." Zynlick readied his stance, as the snakes once again materialized into reality, bearing their fangs with a loud hiss, as if eager for the payback and humiliation they had met in first time. Though one couldn't be sure, as even Zynlick wasn't sure they were same snakes each time he called upon the attack.

The best way to deal with someone whose power you couldn't comprehend was to simply keep being on offensive. Eventually they will leave an opening, even though they may hope to have defense and in that very process, the enemy reveals their pattern.

The serpent seem to extend infinitely long from the blades, as they lunged towards Inana with striking alacrity but Inana , now back with sword back in her hand, made a quick work of them, slashing through them with fearsome alacrity .

Zynlick smiled, as he scrutinized her movements. "Slash all you want, witch. They are fuelled by my mana. As long as I am fine, they will keep getting steady supply and revive. "

Though he said that, he could feel the stiffness in his arm seeping in. After all, he had hardly expected battle to go this far.

Kuttazawa pressed his finger against his chin, as he squinted his eyes to see the movements. Even while standing still, Zynlick's eye seem to be moving super-fast to follow Inana's dodge and slash technique.

Lzanzi coughed, the tone of disappoint clear in his voice. "Kuttazawa-san...for how long this ordeal will go on? You said...Zynlick-kun can end it...and I saw no reason to doubt but now...he is simply following the tradition wearing-out method...and in battle of endurance, I think the witch may have him outdone....."

Kuttazawa smirked, his left hand pressed behind his back, on which the assassin in tree had his keen eye set. "Lzanzi-Kun, don't lose hope. Set your eyes on the field once again...I am sure you will see something quite fascinating."

Lzanzi along with nearby on-lookers obliged, though half-heartedly, as if the battle already seem to be sinking unfavourably.

"Wait...that is..." Lzanzi's eyes rose up, as he observed the airspace around Inana, who was still fully engaged in slashing the repeatedly reviving snakes.

"Indeed." Kuttazawa scoffed, trying to make his own inference "The witch has no clue as to what she is playing her hands into. Zynlick-kun must have known the gap in pure magical strength between them for which he first attacked her with serpent's death to weaken her but it was never intended to be much effective. Now by his second attack, serpent swallow, on one hand, he is keeping weakened witch engaged constantly but at same time the snakes are eating the surrounding mana out of air itself. "

"Wouldn't that mean..." Lzanzi face palmed himself as the realization dawned upon him, his eyes widening large.

Kuttazawa chuckled, eyeing Zynlick with intrigue. "Indeed, either the witch would fall herself running out of sustenance to feed on, like a bee set loose in jungle without flowers or Zynlick kun-will take her by surprise when the opening comes , severing her head. "

"My...how fearsome." The people on front murmured, their eye struck with awe, a phenomena that followed throughout the crowd as news spread like wildfire.

"Yes.....Zynlick Waswa is certainly....quite fearsome" Kuttazawa wore a thin smile in appreciation- appreciation alike military general's praise to inconvenient soldier before having them killed. As his eyes fell on the field – longing for the right chance, his heart screamed in joy as the golden ladder from the heaven.

"Now." Kuttazawa mumbled quietly, in the noisy crowd, but his hands had spoken enough with their gesture, and the assassin locked his eye , the attack long budding in his hands, finally ripen to land on the much-awaited target.

In all the schemes set at once, very few noticed the faint light that shone outside the field- a figure appearing with his own intent into the pre-staged battlefield.

.....................

Somewhere Else (Few minutes earlier)

"Grandfather. What are you doing?" Rynlick reflexively dodged the slap directed towards his cheek. After much mulling over, he had decided to save his grandfather, but having known the old man's obstinate nature, he had decided to keep his silence.

He had taken all definite precautions to ensure not even a trace of fear or apprehension remains on his face. Even so, it seems he had still raised the old man's suspicions.

"You really have the never to ask me that after what you did..." The old man stood up from his chair, his wrinkled face burning with anger and eyes filled with disdain.

Rynlick held his breath, trying to be as placid as possible. "Please take your pill, grandpa. I assure you it is harmless..."

Getting an antidote from that traitor itself had taken quite a time and all the way, he had his heart beating anxious as to whether he would even make it to his grandfather. The terrible fear in his heart that kept persisting that what if he fails both his grandfather and brother. But now even after having made his way, the old man had blatantly refused to accept any drink.

Seeing the ire continue on old man's face, Rynlick decided to be bold. After all, it wasn't exactly his nature to back down and this was one of those situation where he would rather serve punishment or become sore eye, but risk failure.

The time was ticking fast and considering the weak constitution, who knew when his grandpa would collapse from the poison? Even though his constitution was quite durable, he could still feel the effects of poison so it wasn't like old man could have been completely clueless.

"That pill..." The old man opened his eyes with much effort, running his eyes through his grandson Rynlick whose face never used to bore a mark of worry unlike his elder brother, to see how it was now completely shrouded in worry. Listless shoulders, forced deep breathing and an overly tall stride to mask his desperation.

"Lad...I am not so old that I have lost my senses of what you bring." Elder Waswa grunted, resting his hand on his cane roughly. "I know that is an antidote for me...'

Rynlick's eyebrows widened, as he skirted his blue hair to his side, "If you understand THAT, THEN WHY ARE YOU NOT TAKING IT ALREAD..."

"I can't." Elder Waswa declared firmly. "For that pill in your hand isn't an antidote. It is a poison. "

"What? " Rynlick squinted his eyes, to verify the pill, but stopped short of a shrill voice that interrupted him.

"FOOL!" The old man tapped his cane. "Did I really raise you to be such an imbecile, Ryn? That pill can certainly act as antidote physically but how could that ever remove the poison that will remain in yours and mine heart for having taken it at cost of Zynlick."

"How do you...." Rynlick's voice trailed off.

"You must think the hell you find yourself in, is so personal." The old man grumbled. "When in reality, these kind of warfare, usurpation tactics are nothing new. It takes place within the walls and it takes place outside the walls, in Ardania. Quite an orator...you have become, lad. But what of your words? The people will not eat them, but savour your actions and strength. By one single predicament, the grandson I knew...would wither so much. Agh...I must have been truly blind to not ever think of that."

"...Old man..." Rynlick hung his head, slowly starting to understand his words. "But what could I do? Zynlick is currently too far away for me to reach and had I reached him, there still might have been possibility of me dying as well as you. I simply made the..."

"Who would have thought that you would be stuck playing the number game even as an adult, Ryn." Elder Waswa looked at him contemptuously, moving slowly with support of his stick. "And as per your reasoning, when you face similar hell, which a person in our rank, must be prepared to, then would you save me or yourself? What happens when you run out of alternatives of greater or lesser number? How low will you stoop to negotiate with those bastards...."

"But if I don't, Grandpa. " Rynlick tightened his fists, with uncontrolled flames of apprehension dancing in his eyes. "Then sovereignty of village will be transgressed."

"Transgressed? Ha..." Elder Waswa chuckled. "You obeying their plan down to the nail, having your whole pride evaporated by simple threat of force on your close aide...and instead of protecting someone as strong as your brother, arriving here...leaving the traitor to run as he please...tell me, Ryn, have you really preserved the sovereignty? Haven't you yourself become conduit for its transgression ...."

"T-that is...unfair." Rynlick pressed his lip together, unable to advance any reasoning back. "How could I have possibly saved you both? The outcome I wanted could never be possible... "

"Life is unfair. "The old man looked at him with fierce eyes. "If you want it to be fair, you need to get strong. But you...Ryn, my child, you are so strong- strongest in our generation. How would fairness come to those who can't even match a quarter of your strength if you yourself allow yourself to be so rundown by other's assessment of your strength...."

"Grandpa..." Rynlick's eyes rose up with a tinge of intrigue and hope. "What are you exactly saying?"

"Hah...." Elder Waswa sighed exasperatedly, snatching the pill from Rynlick's hands and gulped it promptly, causing latter's eyes to widen further. "You probably would keep half-focus unless I consumed so...but now that I have, I have to make damn sure you don't fail ... so listen well, my forgetful grandson."

Forgetful!

Rynlick had been called many things in his life, but never forgetful. What was grandpa talking about?

"Listen well...my forget grandson. " An uncanny silence echoed in the room, as the next words came out. "Your magical power is not related to sound at all. Not even for once, in our family, anyone have had sound magic and you have been no exception. Your true power is..................."

Now

Outside The Battle Field

Lzanzi who had been running his eyes, to and fro, from the battle, witnessed a beam of light emanate outside the field out of nowhere, from which a familiar figure seem to be emerging.

Rynlick. Rynlick Waswa! Where the hell did he come from and why was he dressed so...

"Brother, what are you doing here...." Zynlick stopped short of swinging his blade, making an instinctive turn. His aura was completely different from anytime else. He had whispered so softly that there was no way Rynlick should have possibly heard it yet the smile on his brother, who gazed at him from distance told a different story.

Rynlick raised his hand, to catch his brother attention as a breath of relief whiplashed on his face.

Phew! He was just in time.

"Just get away from there, Zyn---"Rynlick immediately shouted, but it was too late. The very moment the beam of light had appeared, signal was given and dart had been fired.

"Get away?" Zynlick squinted his eyes in confusion, reading his gesture before he felt a sharp prick in his back, making him fall to ground and sword slipping out of his hands. The weariness of continuous attack, had strained his palms terribly. In the distance, he could hear his brother's screams, and distraught face as his vision started to blur.

I see. I see now. All this time, I was so absorbed in finding your flaw but I forgot, my dear witch, you were also the one searching for an opening...