Mahesh stood on an improvised podium, inspecting the swelling ranks of Slaves gathering in the training yard. From the eastern edge to the western wall, one company after the other lined up in neat formations. They were awaiting his muster, one and all.
This couldn't even be called a militia anymore. It was an army, plain and simple. At the same time, it was the culmination of his life's work: the Firebrand school. And today, he would elevate his position further by taking out his most hated rival.
"The first company is ready, sir," a voice called from the front of the ranks.
Mahesh was snapped out of his contemplative state and surveyed the group arrayed before him. Clad in the uniforms he had meticulously prepared for this occasion, they were comprised of the typical complement of 50 men, as was expected across all companies.
His gaze next landed on the singular figure at the front. There, he found a young man with sharp features and burning eyes, staring up at him with a gaze full of confidence. Even at a quick glance, anybody would be able to tell how much the two looked alike.
Mahesh smiled warmly at the young man. "How are you, boy?"
"Excited, sir," the young man replied.
"There is no need to treat me so formally," he chided softly. "We are family."
"Apologies. I was merely trying to set an example."
Mahesh shook his head slowly. "Your bearing will have to suffice, Raavan. I don't want my own son to treat me like a stranger."
"I will do as you say, father." Despite the words of affirmation, Raavan's rigid stance didn't ease. As always, the boy was a perfect role model, a perfect soldier, and a perfect son.
Mahesh nodded at him with a proud expression. "Make me proud."
"As you command, sir," his son replied before leading the first company to the side. They were already sufficiently prepared, but he was certain that his son would double- and triple-check everything anyway.
"The second company is ready, sir," another voice called.
Mahesh refocused his gaze and surveyed the company standing before him. Notably, this contingent was not under the leadership of either of his two sons. Rather, it was led by his head instructor, who helmed the second most formidable force within his school.
The man bore the unmistakable demeanor of a military commander, evident both in his countenance and bearing. He stood as the sole individual responsible for the remarkable transformation of an unorganized bunch into a highly proficient fighting force.
Mahesh nodded at the man. "Make me proud, commander."
"Your will, my hands," the man replied with that steely voice that had endeared him to Mahesh in the first place. After his brief reply, he lead the second company to join the first.
"…the third company is ready," a timid voice announced.
Mahesh lowered his head and noticed his youngest son, Jaihar, gazing up at him, his expression tinged with nervousness. Following the boy's return from his recent journey, during which two of his top fighters had been lost, Mahesh had reprimanded him harshly.
Reflecting on his actions now, he might have gone a bit too far, as the boy still didn't dare to fully meet his eyes. He nodded at his son with an approving gaze. It might be time to extend an olive branch. "Make me proud today, boy, and all will be forgiven."
Jaihar's face lit up, but he schooled his features instantly, deciding to adopt the expression of a dutiful soldier instead. "As you command, sir."
Mahesh smiled, pleased with his youngest son for a change. "And who knows," he mused out loud. "We might even stop by the Nair family on the way back and pick up that girl you like."
Immediately, the boy lost his cool as his gaze turned hazy, an enraptured expression emerging on his face. "Do you mean it, father?" he asked excitedly.
Mahesh chuckled. His mood was too good to find fault with his foolish son. "Why not? After today, not many will dare to stand against us. We'll be above all and below only one. But," he added in a serious tone, "only if you prove yourself worthy."
"I will!" Jaihar promised as he led his company out of the yard. It almost seemed as if he had grown a second pair of feet, judging by the speed at which he disappeared.
Mahesh couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of his son being so eager. The boy might actually accomplish something worthwhile today. Maybe he might even pick up a bit of the ruthlessness his uncle's men were famous for.
Speaking of his brother, Mahesh still hadn't received an answer to his latest message. Even so, he wasn't worried. After all, he had received news that the Ember Scar Cartel had moved out in force this morning. Even though his brother was a callous bastard, he still knew how to treasure his family.
The third company approached, followed by the fourth, and finally, the fifth. After the last of them had passed his inspection, Mahesh gave the signal to move out. Marching at the very front, he heard the steps of 250 soldiers following behind.
The rustling of fabric followed the stomping of boots. There was an intensity to this rhythm, promising a unity no band of thugs would ever be able to match. This was the power of an organized fighting force—the power of an army.
They soon approached the central district, where the people of the Lion's Den had taken sanctuary. The citizens scattered at their approach, and even the refugees from the surface stopped and stared. It was no wonder. When would they ever have seen an Archmage leading so many soldiers? Furthermore, not one of his men was below the strength of a True Mage. Even in the Arkanheim empire, only the most influential families could command such a force.
People were gazing at them with a mixture of fear and awe, and Mahesh enjoyed every second of it. Unfortunately, the central district only made up a relatively small area. On top of that, his prey was staying close to the borders, resulting in them reaching his destination much sooner than he would have liked.
"Halt," he commanded whilst raising his fist into the air. With the sound of one last pronounced stomping of boots, the column came to a halt. Mahesh smiled, leisurely gazing at the man who had decided to block their path. "It seems you expected us?"
The man didn't respond. Instead, the leader of the Lion's Den inspected the troops arrayed against him, his expression growing darker by the moment. Mahesh didn't rush him. After all, there was little he enjoyed more than seeing the growing desperation on the face of his eternal rival.
Eventually, Ravi asked, "Why have you come?"
He almost burst out laughing. What a stupid question. Didn't the army behind him send a clear enough message? However, there was no reason he couldn't enjoy this for a while longer.
"What, me?" he asked in a mocking tone. "Ohh. It's nothing big. I just wanted to know how your son was doing."
Ravi's face grew even darker as he gnashed his teeth. The gesture was so forceful that it wouldn't have surprised Mahesh if some of them broke.
"Bastard!" Ravi spat, barely able to control his rage. The air became charged, and tiny bolts of electricity began to singe the ground around the irate Archmage. The sight might have been terrifying to anybody else, but it only made Mahesh's smile widen.
During this quick interlude, a group had emerged from the training yard. Mahesh recognized many of the instructors and some of the more famous fighters of the Lion's Den. They came to a halt behind their leader, gaping at the disciplined troops. The Slaves seemed resigned, but most of the instructors looked like they were going to bolt at the first opportunity.
"Listen, everyone!" Mahesh proclaimed in a loud voice. "We only want the members of the Desai family. Everyone else can be spared." He swept his gaze over the instructors. "…If you surrender now, that is."
A murmur rippled through the crowd, accompanied by exchanged glances filled with apprehension. Mahesh grinned, recognizing the effect he had already achieved. All that remained was to give them the nudge they needed. "MEN! Formation!" he bellowed.
All five regiments swiftly mobilized. Each commander was well-versed in the plan, resulting in a seamless execution. They dispersed, forming a semi-circle around the comparatively smaller contingent of the Lion's Den. The first and second companies positioned themselves to his left and right respectivly while the remaining three took their places beside them.
The atmosphere grew heavy with the promise of violence and bloodshed. The Lion's Den had a bit over a hundred men, while his own troops counted 256. Going by numbers alone, it would be a bloodbath.
Naturally, a confrontation between Mages differed vastly from one between common soldiers. In this arena, high-end battle prowess was the deciding factor. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that both he and Ravi constituted over half of the firepower on their respective sides. This was also the reason he hadn't dared to move against the Lion's Den before.
However, that would change today. Not only had he brought enough capable soldiers to ensure that the Lion's Den stood no chance on the lower end, but he had also made enough preparations to ensure a clean victory against his rival…
As if on cue, a group of red-robed figures appeared behind the members of the Lion's den. Dozens turned to hundreds, and soon, the encirclement was complete, leaving no route of escape. It was a perfect checkmate.
Mahesh's smile widened as he locked eyes with the leading figure standing on the opposite side of the encirclement. Despite the magnificent robe, complete with a blood-red mask and drawn hood, there was no mistaking the man's identity. His brother had arrived.
Mahesh's troops synchronized their movements with the arrival of their reinforcements. Advancing steadily, they gradually closed in on the increasingly frantic members of the Lion's Den. As their adversaries found themselves surrounded, with no further space to retreat and standing back to back, Mahesh issued the command for his men to halt.
"This is your last chance," he proclaimed. "Surrender… or die."
Silence enveloped the scene, the tension palpable as the atmosphere approached its zenith. Every individual present understood that the slightest movement could disrupt the delicate equilibrium. Thus, an unspoken agreement prevailed: no one dared to make a move, reluctant to be the first to break the uneasy stillness.
Until someone did.
A young man, little more than a boy, was the first to crack. Mahesh didn't recognize him. He was probably an assistant of some kind, but It didn't really matter. In this situation, status meant nothing. The moment the boy threw his weapon to the ground and kneeled, the tension was broken.
Dozens followed his example. Nearly all of the assistants and some of the instructors fell to their knees. Their cowardice was greeted with angry hisses by their former allies, but it was all for naught. The wave couldn't be stopped anymore, and soon, the only people left standing beside Ravi were the Slaves and some of the most loyal instructors.
Mahesh smiled broadly at the sight. "Very well," he said. "I accept your surrender. Off with you lot."
His men opened a passage, and the few dozen men fled, a mixture of shame and elation warring on their faces and within their hearts. Mahesh would remember them. Their departure wouldn't mark the end of the matter. He harbored no illusions about allowing the issue to linger unresolved, knowing all too well the dangers of neglecting such matters. However, that was a problem for a different time.
He returned his attention to Ravi and his shrunken group of supporters. Well, that might not be the right word. Most of them were Slaves and didn't really have a choice in the matter. Even so, a surprising amount of instructors had stayed, choosing death over the shame of surrender and betrayal.
Despite Mahesh's best efforts to suppress such thoughts, a small part of him couldn't help but wonder how many of his own men would stand firm if he were ever in a comparable situation. As he scanned their ranks, a sense of disillusionment crept over him, realizing that the number might be disappointingly small. However, his roaming eyes soon settled on the figure of his firstborn.
The dependable silhouette of his oldest son was like a balm to his soul. No matter how many others would flee, he knew for certain that his most beloved child would stay by his side—to the bitter end.
"Well, old friend," he said in a voice filled with malicious spite. "It looks like this is the end. One of the oldest houses of Korrovan is going to end today."
Ravi rose to his full height, pulling his shoulders back and thrusting his chest forward. Then, with a subtle yet confident gesture, he broke into a smile.
Mahesh couldn't help but marvel at the sudden display of courage. Where Ravi had found such inner strength remained a mystery to him. The transformation was so remarkable that it seemed as if the previously shattered man had tapped into a hidden reserve, emerging utterly transformed from just moments before.
"I agree," Ravi announced in a domineering voice. "One of the oldest houses of Korrovan is going to end today."
Just as Mahesh was starting to question if his old rival had finally lost it, a sudden shift occurred. The air filled with screams emanating from all directions. Mahesh looked around in shock. In a matter of seconds, both flanks of his forces were overwhelmed by a surge of attackers cloaked in red.
Like a tidal wave, the members of the Ember Scar Cartel had launched themselves at his troops, sweeping away a dozen men in the blink of an eye. His troops were so shocked by this development that they couldn't even react for a moment, blankly staring at the bodies of their comrades as their allies advanced on them.
Mahesh was the first to regain his bearings. "What is this, brother? You dare betray me?" His anger was so great that flames rose around him, forcing even his own men to take a few steps back.
At that moment, a bestial cry tore through the plaza, its power and ancient fury reverberating with primal force. The raw, majestic roar resonated with energy and resonance, announcing the arrival of what initially seemed to be a large bird. Upon closer inspection, however, it became apparent that this was no ordinary creature, but rather a wyvern. Yet, such details held little significance for Mahesh in that moment. His attention was consumed by the creature's landing upon the shoulder of his brother, who had remained motionless until then.
The small wyvern perched itself upon his shoulders. Its gaze never left Mahesh's own, and there seemed to be a challenge in its intelligent eyes. His brother, on the other hand, hadn't even glanced at him once, despite everything. Now, however, he slowly raised his left hand and took off his blood-red mask.
The face that was revealed… was not that of his brother. It was a pale young man, clearly a foreigner. Mahesh felt like he had seen him before, but he couldn't quite remember where. However, the answer revealed itself from an unexpected source.
"B-blood Dragon? H-how can it be you?" somebody stammered. "You are dead! I saw you die!"
Mahesh tracked the source of the voice, only to be taken aback when he realized it belonged to his youngest son, Jaihar. The memory flooded back. Wasn't Blood Dragon the name of the man Jaihar had attempted to kill when he ventured into the desert? An intense fury, surpassing even that of before, seized his heart. Was this chaos a consequence of his incompetent son's actions?
"Stop this nonsense, Blood Dragon," Mahesh yelled. "No matter what my son might have done to you, I am sure we can come to an agreement."
However, the boy didn't look at him. His gaze was still focused on the figure of his youngest son. Even more embarrassing was the fact that Jaihar seemed to wilt under his gaze, unable to meet the eyes of his nemesis.
At last, the young man broke his silence. "You owe me an arm," he stated, his voice calm, almost hushed, yet it penetrated through the din of battle. "And a debt of blood." With those words, he tossed something in the direction of the boy.
Jaihar instinctively flinched, although it was unnecessary as the trajectory of the projectile suggested it wasn't an attack. The object bounced off the ground with a squelching noise, rolled a few steps, and then came to a halt in front of his son's troops. The boy screamed and took a step back in fright.
Normally, Mahesh would have cursed him for such cowardice, but even he was shocked by the object in question. It was a head. And not just any head. Mahesh was staring into his brother's unseeing eyes. His thoughts slowed to a crawl. Horror was edged onto his brother's face, making Mahesh wonder what he had seen right before his death.
After a moment's pause, the young man spoke again. "And I have come to collect."