A Shifting Technique was the next step in cultivating one’s movement skills. It was much stronger than any of the Speed Techniques. Compared to it, the ‘Ten Ravens’ Technique was a child’s trick. Mastering this kind of Technique was impossible even for cultivators at the Spirit Knight level. Another myth had turned out to be real right before his eyes.
“You probably want to ask why, with such a Technique at our disposal, we haven’t seized the capital yet?” The man’s smile dimmed. “In order to try and get rid of the tension between us, I’ll tell you a little secret. This Technique that the snowmen have shared with us can only be used in the White Forest. Beyond it, trying to use it has very... disastrous consequences.”
Hadjar didn’t believe him. He could be telling the truth, but he still didn’t trust this man. The paranoia he’d developed during his years of slavery was too powerful. He trusted very few people. This man wasn’t one of them.
“Let me introduce myself. I am the former General of the former Northern Army, Atikus.”
The former General bowed. His paper-thin, scarred skin was very different from what Hadjar remembered. His brittle arms didn’t resemble the mighty, muscular ones he’d used to have. Neither did his long, unwashed, thick black hair, lying loose across his shoulders.
General Atikus had been King Haver’s closest friend. He’d fought in dozens of wars with him. He’d been the strongest General of his time, someone who all the surrounding Kingdoms had feared. The man Hadjar had once wanted to be when he grew up, who had demanded immense respect and had been able to calm anyone down. The man who’d betrayed his King; who’d let the imperial legion into the capital; who’d opened the Palace doors for Primus’ people; who had supported the usurper in his fight for the throne and had indirectly killed his parents.
The former Viscount Darsky...
He had been that small pebble that had started the avalanche that ended up burying Hadjar’s life beneath it.
“General Hadjar Traves. You have no idea how glad I am to meet you.”
The half-forgotten prayer came to him in a flash:
“Duke Velen, Earl Vaslia, Primus, the Governor, Viscount...”
Chapter 236
“I’ve heard about your exploits,” Atikus lowered his skeletal arms.
Hadjar knew that he shouldn’t let the man’s appearance fool him. Haver’s former friend still exuded power. Over the past several years, he had become even stronger, and right now, Atikus wasn’t any weaker than Hadjar.
“I confess that I’m a little nervous because of the arrows aimed at my back,” Hadjar said calmly, putting his hands behind his back, away from the hilt of Moon Beam.
He’d just demonstratively shown that he thought little of the rebel archers’ skills. The creak of their bowstrings and the abrupt cursing were a delight to his ears. A bloodthirsty smile curved his lips.
“Your power and skill are something to be proud of, Mad General,” Atikus nodded toward the woods and the creaking stopped.
This time, the archers actually returned the arrows to their quivers. Both groups, nervous and wary, now waited for their leaders to conclude their talk. The possibility of fighting a battle wasn’t appealing to anyone. The royal squad was afraid to fight against those who could enter and leave a snowstorm as if it were their own home. The rebels were terrified of the famous General Traves.
Before his victory over the Patriarch of ‘The Black Gates’ sect, he had been respected, and after it, people came to fear him. For a warrior from a provincial kingdom to reach the Transformation of the Mortal Shell Stage, achieve ‘One with the World’, and then defeat a true cultivator before the age of 25 was a monstrously impressive achievement, worthy of being sung about for another thousand years. Many people were sure that if the Mad General had been lucky enough to be born in the Empire, he would already be a Heaven Soldier, if not a Spirit Knight.
“Perhaps you’ve also heard, General Atikus, that I’m not a big fan of small talk.”
The rebel leader nodded and grinned briefly.
“The songs about your legendary feats have reached even our backwoods, General,” Atikus’ voice was as cold and emotionless as the bloody snow around him. “I know that you prefer to get right to the point.”
Silence reigned once again. Hadjar looked into the man’s dark eyes. Finally, Atikus shook his head and reprimanded him: “You’re being impolite, young man.”
Hadjar almost lost it then. This traitor had thrown away his right to teach him anything when he’d sold his King and country to the Empire and Primus. Hadjar almost reached for the handle of Moon Beam, wishing to cross swords with his former idol from the distant past.
“I’m not the one making his guest wait needlessly,” Hadjar shrugged.
He’d done so for a reason — to distract himself from his body’s murderous desires. His palms were too itchy and kept involuntarily reaching for the hilt of his blade.
Atikus laughed harshly. He looked like a crow. He was even wearing simple, patched clothes, similar to Hadjar’s. Hadjar didn’t want to admit, even if only to himself, that his choice of clothing had been based on what he remembered the greatest General he’d known in his childhood had worn. A child’s impressions were the strongest, after all.
“Why have you come here, General? Do you really want to avenge your friend’s ruined wedding?”
“And what if I do?”
Atikus squinted at him and nodded again. The creak of bowstrings was heard again and Hadjar could sense the archers dimly, as if trying to discern a burning candle on a bright sunny day out of the corner of his eye. But even that was enough for him to see that the rebels outnumbered them. The clearing was surrounded by thousands of archers, at the very least. Hadjar couldn’t even count how many infantrymen were behind them.
“Then, I’m afraid, you’ll have to prove that the fact you can block five thousands arrows wasn’t just made up
