The wheels of the merchant's cart creaked along the uneven path, the forest canopy above swaying gently in the breeze. Eliakim sat in silence at the front, reins in hand, his scarf pulled up to guard against the dust. Beside him, Gideon scanned the trees cautiously, twin silver axes glinting faintly in the midday light.
In the back of the cart, the once-proud merchant sat with his wrists unbound but his pride still shackled. After several long miles of silence, he finally spoke.
"My name is Varek Dulane," he said, his voice rich and smooth, the tone of a man used to speaking over others. "You may despise me, boy—and I wouldn't blame you. But know this: I am a noble. A wealthy merchant-noble, born of House Dulane, in the city of Greyspire. I was raised to seize opportunities... even those that others deem immoral."
Eliakim said nothing. His eyes remained fixed ahead.
"Still," Varek continued, his voice softening, "you've bested me. And I respect that. Few could have. You freed your village, turned my own plans against me. And yet you let me live. Perhaps you are more noble than I ever was."
No reply came from either Eliakim or Gideon. The only sound was the rhythmic plodding of hooves and the faint whisper of leaves.
They traveled this way for nearly an hour more until the peace shattered.
A deep, resonant hiss echoed through the trees. Birds exploded into flight. The horse reared, nearly toppling the cart, and from the shadows of the forest emerged a towering form.
A mamba.
Its obsidian scales shimmered like oil, and its emerald eyes locked onto them with hunger. It rose, taller than a house, tongue flickering like a lightning bolt. Its presence chilled the blood.
"By the gods!" Varek screamed, scrambling to the back of the cart. "That's a Greater Mamba!"
Eliakim stood, drawing no weapon but readying his stance. Gideon leapt down, twin axes in hand. Despite the size of the creature and the weight of its aura, there was no fear in his eyes.
"Gideon, wait—!" Eliakim called.
But Gideon was already moving.
The snake lunged.
Gideon spun beneath the strike, his footwork sharp and instinctive. The axes sang as they sliced across the serpent's underbelly, drawing ichor. The mamba roared and struck again, its tail whipping violently through trees.
Gideon ducked, weaved, then vaulted from a fallen trunk and slashed along the neck. One axe lodged in the scales, the other he swung downward into its eye.
Eliakim watched, frozen.
Not from fear—but from awe.
Gideon's movements were wild, yet precise. Primal, but controlled. His silver axes gleamed like moonlight with every blow. And as the mamba reared once more in fury, Gideon drew both axes together and dove into its throat with a battle cry that echoed through the forest.
The beast shuddered, writhed—and collapsed.
Silence fell.
Then, without warning, a glow rose from the serpent's corpse. A soft orb of green energy—its core—floated upward. Slowly, it hovered toward Gideon and sank into his chest.
His eyes widened.
His aura pulsed, stronger than before.
He fell to one knee, panting.
"Gideon!" Eliakim rushed forward, finally moving from the cart. "Are you all right?"
Gideon looked up and grinned. "That was... incredible. I didn't even know I could do that."
"That was your first time wielding those axes?" Eliakim asked in disbelief.
"Guess they fit me more than I thought."
Varek emerged from the cart, brushing dust from his sleeves. "Astonishing. That core energy likely strengthened him. A blessing. But don't waste the body. A Greater Mamba fetches a high price in the markets of Greyspire. Its scales, venom, eyes, and heart—all valuable."
Eliakim nodded reluctantly. "We'll bring it."
He turned toward the cart, only to see Varek pull off his ring. He held it up with a smug smile.
"This," Varek said, tapping the stone, "is the Ring of Galveryn. No ordinary jewelry. It contains a spatial pocket—infinite storage, limitless space. Worth more than half a mansion."
He waved his hand, and the corpse of the massive mamba vanished in a shimmer of light, sucked into the ring's unseen dimension.
"Unlike that pretty bracelet I assume you're hiding," Varek added, glancing vaguely in Eliakim's direction, "this one holds anything—mundane or otherwise. Mine isn't invisible, after all.""
Eliakim eyed him cautiously. "And yet, you lost everything."
The merchant chuckled. "Lesson learned."
As the cart rolled once more toward Greyspire, Gideon leaned back, eyes closed in quiet satisfaction. The twin axes rested against his lap, their silver blades stained, but gleaming.
Eliakim smiled faintly.
He had a feeling their journey was only just beginning.