A Sword Fight Staged Ten Thousand Years Early

The Shadow-pattern Stormbird circled downward, searching for a broad place to land amid the treacherous mountains.

The Vespid did not hear the roar of its engines. Only when the Shadow-pattern Stormbird was fifty meters from the summit on one side did Aetsak's sharp eyes turn toward the black iron bird.

He saw the huge shells beneath its wings and instinctively turned aside, taking cover behind a slab of black basalt.

The warriors of the Sobo Tribe moved with him, ducking behind the rocks one after another.

They watched warily as the black iron bird landed and a squad of warriors in black armor emerged.

The black-armored warriors seemed to have descended from the heavens, smaller versions of winged giants.

Their skin gleamed like marble, and their eyes were pitch-black, like obsidian.

Aetsak suddenly remembered the "sons" the black-armored giant had spoken of.

So many sons of giants?

Bang, bang, bang...

A squad of black-armored giants leapt down from the cliff and came before Nimrod.

"Wright," Nimrod called to the member of the Honor Guard whose right shoulder was painted with an orange-red longsword.

He and Pierre Wright, who had already been promoted to captain of the 8th Legion's Third Company, both came from the Wright family, the greatest family among the Kaser People. Not long ago, Pierre had passed the review and become a "Warrior."

Though Nimrod estimated that "Warrior" Wright's combat strength should be somewhat inferior to Mandragor Karyen's, Gregor Eisenhorn's slaying of the Emperor's Children veteran of ten thousand battles had included a measure of luck.

Aetsak, chieftain of the Sobo Tribe ten thousand years later, was close to Eisenhorn in strength. With his physical advantage, even if Wright lagged slightly in technique, he could still fight him.

"You will face Aetsak, chieftain of the Sobo Tribe."

Aetsak