*Clank Clank*
The sound of metal boots on a cobblestone path echoed as a legion of troops and mercenaries arrived at the outskirts of Varun to resupply.
The sun was high indicating it was mid day, and there were no clouds in the sky to shelter all the soldiers in hot armor from the heat.
Many of the troops went inside the town but one unit had orders to replenish their water at a nearby well close to the lake.
As the group of ten mercenaries began walking towards the small lake they heard sounds of kids fighting.
One of the mercenaries, with a long scar horizontal across his nose smirked,
"Boss you hear that? Sounds like some little twat is getting his ass beat."
The man in black leather armor with a metal breastplate looked towards the trees on the opposite side of the small lake.
There were five kids all circling one tree, laughing and throwing rocks towards the center. One kid, who was much larger and burlier than the rest, punched a smaller one in the gut.
They were all somewhat dirty, clearly peasant children who didn't care much for their cleanliness.
The smaller kid, who had long white flowing hair and red eyes, fell to his knees gasping for air,
"Why.. Why are you doing this.."
The larger kid, supported by his gang of infants kicked him in the gut sending him flying into the truck of the tree.
"You freak, that white hair and red eyes... *Bleh* Looking like a damn demon! You wouldn't have any friends if that damn fox didn't follow you around all day."
The larger boy pointed his finger at the fox,
"Listen here.. you hand over that small fox and we will go on our way. My father said if I caught a small beast he would make me a hat for the winter hunt and that is the one I want it made from!"
The smaller boy, who now appeared to be guarding a small baby fox with black fur and red eyes, stood his ground against all of them. The fox was no longer than a foot long, curled up on the ground with blood coming from its mouth. It had been hit with a rock from the larger, burlier child.
Finally able to breathe after the air was knocked from him the white haired boy looked the larger kid in the eyes,
"You can't have her, this isn't just a fox it's my friend!"
The other boys looked with disgust as they surrounded him. Some were orphans from the village, some were the children of peasants. However they all had one thing in common, a mutual hate for demon beasts.
This was for good reason, demon beasts commonly attacked the village and their hunters when on missions. Many of the kids had lost family members to the demon beasts, creating an innate hatred for all of their kind.
The small kid with long white hair was an orphan who was kicked out of the orphanage within the town of Varun. One day he had shown up on their doorstep with a baby fox tucked within his shirt.
The fox was friendly enough but still, it was a demon beast and someday it would grow becoming dangerous.
The child was very attached to the fox, deciding to leave the orphanage so it didn't have to live in the wild alone. Being alone is quite distressful, the boy being an orphan knew that first hand.
The boy decided to live outside the village near the northern small lake, there were plenty of ways to forage for food and it was relatively safe being so close to the village. While demon beasts did attack occasionally, they would normally do it from the south side leaving plenty of safe and habitable area for the small boy and his fox friend.
The smaller boy picked up a nearby heavy long stick and raised it like a sword ahead of him.
This caused the other kids to mock him.
The larger boy smirked and drew a hunting knife from within his tunic,
"Look here guys! This demon lover thinks he's a warrior. What are you going to do with that stick demon lover?? Bahaha!"
The other kids surrounding him laughed and called him a loser.
Nearby the group of mercenaries started to jump into the pond after taking off their armor. Yet one with much more armor than the rest, stood their quietly observing the situation with great interest.
This mercenary, unbeknown to most around him, used to be a knight and admired the small boy's courage.
While he did admire the boy he wasn't so inclined to intervene, the world is a rough place and situations like this will toughen him up.
The larger boy started to walk towards the smaller one until they were only a few feet apart. He pointed with the tip of his knife,
"Give us the fox, or you can go with it. No one will care about some homeless orphan outside the city! Even if we kill you, no one will know, and no one will care."
This boys words not only intimidated the smaller boy, but it acted as a small threat to some of the children around him who also were orphans.
Even among the poor, there is a hierarchy and the larger boy was making things clear for all to hear.
He, being the hunters son, stood in the light of his fathers influence. Most of the households could only eat meat because of this child's father which gave him some minor authority as well. Who would dare bite the family that feeds them?
The small boy with white hair and golden eyes stood resolute with his large stick. This stick was long, brown, and coated with chipped bark.
This log is heavy... my arms... I can't show them I'm struggling or Akuma will be taken from me.. Like my parents... Like nana.... Like everyone.. NO.. I will not let it happen again!
The small boy lifted the log and held it like a sword in a guarded stance, his small muscles aching from the weight.
"Bring it on you fat bastard!"
The boys surrounding the bigger boy all became eerily quiet. While all of them agreed, the boy was indeed fat, they knew better than to say it.
The fat boy's eyebrow twitched and he started to charge the smaller one with a knife,
"How dare you orphan bastard say that to me!"
The sound of knife colliding upon bark resounded like a lumberjack hacking away at a tree. The small boys 'Sword' was being chipped down piece by piece with every collision.
Unbeknown to the children, the knife that he was using was very special. Made from a tier one demon beast's tooth. Not only was it sharp, but it had been strengthened with mana for a long period of time making it stronger than most iron weapons.
The simple wooden branch was no match for the knife, whose value could buy a house within the town on its own. How the boy got this? Only his father would truly know.
After a few minutes the branch was much easier to hold as it was only a foot long and now carried a pointed edge. Scattered bark laid all around and a few cuts were visible on the small boys arms. Clearly he had been caught by a few of the blows.
The other boys were surprised, the boy was smaller than most yet he was holding his own, able to wield that large branch and clash with the older, fatter boy.
Red blood oozed from his wounds causing him to grimace. Even some of the surrounding children started to back up, seeing fresh blood from a human for the first time they didn't know how to feel. If he would do this to the small boy, what is stopping the fat bastard from attacking them next?
The fat boy raised the long curved knife in the air ready to slash downwards at the small child who was holding the branch horizontally guarding his head and body.
This pig is going to really do it... I have to block him.. How.. Why am I so damn warm! Ever since I found that damn flower something has been stuck to me like glue! What is this crap hitting my arms like a wave of warm air! Fuck.. It hurts worse than the cuts!
One of the boys started to panic, he is an orphan too, what is stopping him from being the next victim. He merely wanted to ingratiate himself with the hunters son, not be an accomplice to murder!
*Crash*
The fleeing orphan boy, unaware of his surroundings collided with the mercenary who was watching nearby knocking himself out on the metal breastplate. The mercenary's jaw dropped, the mana around the white haired boy was moving.
To those who are cultivators, the mana around them is normally invisible, like a transparent mist that flows endlessly throughout the land. Only when mana is being gathered does it take visible form. This mana, which is the power source for all cultivated creatures, was gathering around this boys arms on its own.
The mercenary wanted to intervene but this was an opportunity for the child, one to become an innate warrior. Some waited their entire lives for this moment. Only to never to accomplish what was happening to this boy, no older than 12, ahead of him.
The fat boy slashed downwards as the blue mist was absorbed into the skin of the small boys arms. The knife slashed through the stick and down his chest vertically, like a knife through butter, yet it was shallow.
As this happened a burst of mana erupted from the smaller boys arms and caused the fat boy to stumble backwards,
"What the hell was that!..."
The small boy took this opportunity and punched the fat boys hand which held the knife.
*Crunch*
The fat boy howled out in pain as the bones in his hand were shattered like glass.
This is the difference between cultivators and mortals. To put it simply, the world is unfair, not everyone had the opportunity to become a cultivator, and many more never became innate warriors.
The fat boy fell backwards onto his ass as he yelled for the support of the other kids. Yet to his surprise, they had all fled in terror. The small boy had grown a few inches and terrified them into fleeing.
Why wouldn't he? He had just grown a few inches in height in the blink of an eye. His muscles became thicker, and he now gave off the feeling of a beast eying its prey.
The small boy looked down at the fat boy, he didn't know how to describe this feeling. Merely moments ago he was fighting for his life, now the fat boy was writhing on the ground in pain ahead of him.
Was he embarrassed? Ashamed at himself for even fearing this fat kid? Was he Angry?
He didn't know, all he knew was that somehow he had won.
"Run away fatass, don't come looking for my fox again or it won't end like this next time"
The fat boy, who was writhing in pain and swelling with anger laid silent clutching his broken hand. Then he noticed it, the fallen knife.
The small boy turned around, looking for his injured fox friend.
The fat boy saw his chance, as the small yet not so much smaller boy turned he grabbed the handle of the long dagger and lunged at the boys blind spot.
*Clang*
A deep voice said,
"What do you think you're doing?"
The dagger flew high in air after it was deflected with the metal gauntlet of the mercenary captain, who then caught it with his free gauntlet.
The fat boy looked up in terror at the man above him.
The man was in metal armor trimmed with leather, and had a black shield pattern across his right pauldron. Strapped along his back is a large two handed doubled bladed ax. He has short black hair which is cut cleanly and is clean shaven. Yet across his face are many scars, and his demeanor is quite intimidating.
The fat boy fell to his ass while pissing himself,
"Who... who are you?"
The mercenary didn't pay him any attention after securing the knife, which stunned the fat boy who normally was the center of attention.
The smaller boy, was now cradling the injured black fox and looked to the middle aged man.
The mercenary captain walked closer to him, sizing the boy up.
"Who are you child? State your name?"
The small boy, who was now filled with adrenaline and leftover mana stood tall,
"My name is Tristan Eltharian!"