After their decisive victory over Orinovo, Lys-Akkaria's army crosses the border to take back territory that used to be theirs. With the combined forces of a lightweaver and shadowforger, Orinovo doesn't stand a chance.
In spite of their newfound a...
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Fennrin gritted his teeth, clenching both of his fists as he made all the Orinovan soldiers around him fall to the floor, their necks broken, dying in unison.
He had listened to Daryan. He had tried let go of his fear. And the results were impressive, if he said so himself. As far as he knew, very few of the hundreds of soldiers fighting with him had even been hurt because of how easy it was to cut the Orinovans down.
Fennrin finished killing more of them before a horn sounded—a familiar noise urging the remaining enemy soldiers to fall back. Fennrin watched them run off into the distance, taking a few deep breaths and looking around him.
Seeing all of the dead around him still made him feel odd, but he was growing used to it. He wished he didn't have to kill so many, but he couldn't get himself to feel too regretful about it. The victories they'd ensured over the last few days were incredibly encouraging, as was how pleased Daryan seemed to be with him.
It was a little addicting, in fact, which was the only thing that made Fennrin a little wary. Ainreth's absence was felt, by him personally because he did miss him, and on the battlefield as well. But when Fennrin wasn't holding back, he was managing to protect the other soldiers fairly well.
His control over turning into a shadow was nearly flawless now, letting him move from one form to the other seamlessly enough that he could avoid most of the attacks aimed at him.
He could dispatch their enemies just as quickly, having only sustained a few bruises and cuts from them trying to attack him from behind. That was a tactic now, he'd come to notice. They couldn't face him directly without him immediately killing his would-be attackers.
Being attacked by any az-ari that Orinovo had was also quite common, all of them usually targeting him the moment he was spotted, but he was kept protected by Lys-Akkarian soldiers at all times, shielding him just enough to notice anyone dangerous in time.
Things had been going so well that Fennrin was starting to worry that maybe there might be another ambush coming, perhaps a trap once they got to a specific place in Orinovo. But nothing had happened so far, so he was trying to ignore his natural pessimism.
The soldiers around him cheered, a few of them coming to congratulate him specifically for his efforts, which Fennrin couldn't help but smile at. His powers being celebrated was still incredibly strange, but it was also incredible. It felt so very good to be not only accepted but also appreciated.
And he was good at the thing he was being celebrated for. He didn't have qualms thinking that anymore.
He spent the next few hours just resting and eating something after they set up a new camp, waiting for Daryan, the Bulwark, and the soldiers guarding them to join with them again. He was eager to talk about the battle with Daryan.
But the moment he saw him on his horse on the hill above, Fennrin had a bad feeling. Bad mood seemed to be seeping off the man even at a distance, which made little sense to Fennrin given their flawless victories.
