บท 61: Chapter 61: Old Friends

Two knights were blocking Kilian's view, and their bodies cast shadows down, making it hard for him to recognize them against the sun.

He did not respond to their question, and one of them bend down over Kilian, who were laying on his back doing simple situps.

An annoyed twitch made his eyebrow move, and one of the two sneered at him.

"I have seen you somewhere before haven't I?"

Kilian swatted at the hand that came down offering him a hand, and the man above him stopped being polite.

"Hey, we are new here, just tell us where the knights train."

Kilian was wearing his usual plain workout clothes, and sat up, till his face was close to the man who was still bending down.

"I don't think you will be new here, for very long."

Kilian felt his stomach turn, the man had not been wrong, somehow the voice irked his insides.

"What does a scrawny servant know, with that face you are only worth using to warm up beds at night."

A cold smile was directed at Kilian.

However, it was not the rude comment or the mistake of not recognizing him, but the voice that made Kilian roll away and quickly got on his feet.

He pulled the thin sword from his cane and pointed it at the throat of the man in front of him.

'It's him!'

Kilian was filled with rage, and he stared directly at the man who now had lost his composure, at the sudden threat.

"Maarken, just leave him alone."

Kilian's insides froze over, and his mind was focused on one thing.

"Destroy."

He wanted to kill this man. The man who had tied him up and been the cause of Kilian to fall through the window at the Heathgrave mansion.

'Are they here to kill me, did the Count or the Head maid send them?'

He felt the surge of his power, as he concentrated on gathering the force around him.

Every little leaf, flower, and grass surrounding the training area provided him with a small piece of a pulsating force that his body sucked in.

Contrary to the people of this world, Kilian did not have magic or mana, and he did not have a magic core to help him cast it.

What he had was something else, an empty vessel a hole where the magic core should have been, and where now the energy of the things around him gathered and condensed.

It was not magic, he did not need incantations or spells.

"Hey, aren't you that..boy?"

The man licked his lips, as if recognizing Kilian made him excited, and he stepped towards Kilian drawing a sword.

Maarken was decked out in the knight's training outfit, with a sword at his side, now pointed at Kilian.

The much bigger and heavier blade cast a shadow over Kilian's thin one.

"I should make you a cripple again, and make sure you can't run away."

The other man nervously grabbed Maarken by the shoulder, trying to stop him. They were in fact at an Archduke's residence, which Maarken seemed to have forgotten.

Kilian concentrated on Maarken, feeling how the energy flowed within him, tickling behind his ice blue eyes.

"Destroy."

He tried it again. The first time nothing had happened. If it had worked Maarken would not have been able to still smirk like he was.

A power forced its way out of Kilian, and the recoil made him stagger, as an invisible force pushed through the space between them, slamming into Maarken as it had done his brother Lucien at the Gentleman's club gathering.

He watched as the big man was pushed backward, landing on his back with a huge dent in the leather chest guard.

Kilian breathed in fast and set off, rushing forward with his sword raised, ready to slice down at the man on the ground.

"Clank."

Another sword blocked and pushed him backward, making him stumbled.

"We should have killed you back then."

The other man, that had stood back, had raised his sword and was standing firm, pointing it at Kilian as Maarken had.

"Oy, are you ok?" He yelled at his partner on the ground.

Kilian gasped for air, the hit had knocked it out, and his chest hurt from trying to force air back in.

The man had a tattoo on his neck and was bald, with dark rings around his eyes.

Kilian grimaced, finally able to breathe.

'They really let anyone in, when it is wartime, he thought.'

"What is going on?"

They were surrounded, the Valen knights had heard the commotion, and rushed to Kilian's side.

A hand reached towards Kilian, who stubbornly ignored it and stood up on his own.

Several swords were now pointed at the two men.

A red-haired man stepped in between the Kilian and the two.

"Maarken you said…."

Kilian could not see Dante's expression but the tone had been malicious and in some way also, laughin?

Kilian thought he heard wrong, but Dante seemed almost amused.

"Everyone, you see these men they once tried to kidnap our young Duke." He mad it sound taunting.

All the men around them started to complain loudly, and several swords now formed a ring at the necks of the two new hires.

Dante turned to Kilian and gave him a smile as if he had just found something amusing to play with.

"What do you say Young Lord, the punishment for kidnapping and hurting a noble is quite severe."

Kilian could not help but smile back at the redheaded man. He was after all his personal knight.

Maarken groaned and tried to sit up, but something kept him from doing so.

'I must have broken at least a few of his ribs.'

Kilian smirked and felt like he had been given a treat.

"Take this one away, and make him admit to what the Heathgraves hired them for."

He knew the knights would understand the meaning of "make him."

Kilian gestured to the still standing bald man, then looked down at Maarken who now had a terrified expression plastered over his face.

"This one." He stared at Maarken. "Will be practice."

Kilian was not a hero in this world, and this ugly man had felt him up once. The thought made him shiver, and Dante walked over behind him, mistaking it for fear.

Large arms wrapped themselves around Kilian's waist, firmly holding on to his hands.

"Dante?"