Page 59

Story: The WitchSlayer

With one hand, he swung it to get a feel of it, with the other, he bit into the apple in his hand, letting the juices fill his mouth.

Too light.He tossed it carelessly to the side and picked up another.

Taking another bite of his fruit, he swung the new sword around. Since the weight didn’t feel terrible, he propped it up in front of him like he was holding it with two hands.

He rolled his arm and wrist to get momentum, the blade swinging by his side before it cut downwards through the air, mimicking a downward attack on an enemy.The handle is uncomfortable. The guard is too sharp.

He tossed it to the side and picked up another while biting into the apple again.

Bouncing it in his hand, he checked that the weight was to his liking. Then he gave a downwards swing of his arm. When the handle felt just fine, he spun in a circle like he was gutting an invisible enemy.

Weight is fine, handle is fine.Then he flipped it over to double-check the blade itself by ghosting his fingertips along one of the edges. A yellow crystal in the guard caught his eye, something he hadn’t noticed before because of the gold handle.

With a roll of his eyes, he tossed the sword behind him, hearing it bounce precariously.Witches will notice the jewel and use it against me.

Swords wielded by him couldn’t have simple earthy materials such as gems and stones. They would be able to direct power to it and harm his hands.

He picked up another sword, checking it for jewels and then its weight. As he was grabbing it, he noticed a scent from nearby.

She is watching me.He took the last bite of his apple and threw the core to the side.

Swinging this new sword around, he immediately disliked it. Off it went, scattering on the floor with the others around him.

He hoped one of the last two would be suitable, otherwise he was going to have to hunt down some human soldiers to steal their weapons.

Rurik knew where she was and could see she was peeking inside to watch him while trying to stay out of sight.

Since he had two hands available, he picked up both the swords left. Both were claymores – his preferred weapon. He checked them and then swung his arms around, trying to get a feel for them.

Both seemed good. He switched hands to make sure.

Making his decision, he tossed the lighter one away. But he didn’t just toss it, he threw it in her direction. She yelped when it cut through the rock next to the tunnel entrance she was hiding behind, the sword jutting out from the floor. It eventually fell from its own weight.

She stared at it for long moments before peeking her head inside the room. He was facing her, and their eyes connected.

Now that she knew she was caught, he expected her to step out. Instead, she ducked away, and he shook his head. She wasn’t usually against approaching him, and he had expected her to berate him for throwing the sword in her direction.

With a shrug, he began to practise with the weapon in his hand.

She will approach in her own time.

After a while, she did eventually come out of her hiding place.

“What are you doing?” He heard her ask from the distance.

“Picking a new sword,” he answered as he pretended to fight an invisible enemy.

“Why?”

“I do not always have the luxury of fighting as a Dragon. I often wear a pouch with weapons.” It also carried clothing in case he needed to stop off in a human town. “I lost my previous one in my fight with Strolguil the Vast.”

Rurik wasn’t sure how this female would react, but he would have to go Witch hunting again at some point. He was preparing himself for when he felt comfortable enough to leave her here. She’d made no attempts to escape as of yet, but he was sure once he was no longer here that she would try.

Happy with his choice of weapon and relieved he wouldn’t have to steal another, he started piling the rejected ones to the side to deal with later, when he was larger and could carry them all.

“You tossed a flail at my face. Do you not know how to use a weapon?” he asked as he checked the blade of his chosen claymore, seeing it needed sharpening.

“No.”

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