Will of the Battlefield

The dark ink ate the sky. The sun finally hid beneath the edges of the stretch, and the moon furled in clouds, trying to stand out but failing each time.

Thunder echoed in the sky, deep and powerful, like the roar of an ancient beast awakened from its slumber.

Flashes of lightning could be seen on the horizon. They flickered as if they were the whips of gods, mercilessly striking the silent, murky haze.

Beneath that dark, cloudy sky stood John Prada and Maximilian Goldcaster.

John was yelling at Max, or that’s how it looked.

"It’s dangerous, be reasonable," said John. His tone was authoritative, lacking the prior softness.

"You believed in me every time, why not today?" asked Max.

John curled his lips in irritation. "Because I had the power to fix things if anything went wrong. It’s different now."

However, Max was adamant. "It’s not like I am losing my life. It’s just some money."

"It’s not about money, it’s about Hawk. Max, listen, love, stop it," John insisted.

Max sighed. "Uncle, I have to make bold moves if I want to get ahead of my siblings."

John held Max by his shoulders firmly and shook him. "Bold moves, yes. Stupid moves? Absolutely not. You can lose Hawk.

He’s been with you more than me or your parents. He was your mother’s shield and now yours. You may lose him at worst."

Max was stunned. That thought had never crossed his mind. He gulped and looked at his uncle. Their eyes met, and Max gradually nodded. "I understand."

"Good." John was satisfied.

A while ago, when he came after Max, he asked him about his plans, and Max revealed everything.

However, that plan was deemed dangerous by John, extremely dangerous.

Max knew Hawk’s strength very well, but he was unaware of Vidu Morris. However, John was not.

At this point, two more individuals came outside. Thane and Hawk.

"Let’s go, the carriage is ready," said John as he stepped forward. He looked at Max with a side-eye.

Max looked at Hawk. "You stay here. Plan is cancelled."

At first, Hawk found himself puzzled by the sudden change of plans, but then he looked at the departing John and understood.

Hawk was not just a mere muscled concierge. He was a veteran underground fighter and a seasoned protector who had tackled several assassination attempts.

Hawk spoke. "Master, I want to come. It’s been a while since I have attended a party."

"Oh." Max was taken aback.

Hawk had never shown any interest in parties, nor had he made such requests before.

Nevertheless, this cheered him up. He always wanted a casual friendship with Hawk apart from their master and servant relationship.

"Yes, yes, why not, Hawk. I always told you to enjoy your life. For crying out loud, you are almost forty-one."

"Forty-three, Master." Said Hawk as he removed his mask.

He had two scars on the left side of his face, probably made by something sharp. There were three curved black lines, starting above the brow and ending beneath the eye, one after another. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

He had short black hair with a slight natural curl. He looked like he was in his early thirties.

His facial features were surprisingly normal. If not for his blessing lines and scars, he would be mistaken for a normal, law-abiding citizen.

"I’ll wear another mask," he said with a smile, and Max didn’t question his choice.

Unbeknownst to Max, the new mask will become the very reason of chaos later.

Thane looked at his face and unintentionally raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know Hawk was a three-lined Blessed.

That’s not an ordinary feat. His clan had around 200 members, and those who had three lines could be counted on one hand.

"You guys are coming or not?" A voice echoed from afar. It was John. He had the carriage prepared.

"Wait a bit, Uncle. Let us wear some suits," Max said.

Thane turned to Max. "I want to sleep. I’m tired from the day. You guys go."

"Not happening, get your ass moving." Max came behind Thane and started to push him but failed miserably. They argued a bit, and when it came to a battle of words, Thane was no match for Max.

He sighed and unwillingly tagged along. However, he abruptly refused to wear a suit. He was comfortable with whatever he wore.

At last, the trio sat inside. The carriage was bigger than the creaking one in which Thane came. It carried an embellishing style, things only nobles and the rich would have.

The horse galloped with the sound of hooves. The four sat inside, and the chatter continued. The carriage moved away from the gambit grounds, towards the main city.

Thane gazed upon the gambit grounds, which were constantly getting farther away. The carriage took several turns. Around half an hour later, their destination arrived.

It was a titanic palace. The lights of the palace ruled the night. Music thundered from the open gates, deep drums, sharp strings, and the wild cry of flutes, melding into a rhythm that sounded less like celebration and more like conquest.

And into this storm of excess, the quartet walked.

Unlike the other three, Thane stopped. He looked at his boots, still dusted, and his dress, worse than the servants’.

It was the moment when Thane regretted it. He should have worn a suit when Max offered him one. His eyes swept across the grand courtyard and felt an unfamiliar stir of awe.

Nobles drifted across the marble like living jewels, their silks whispering secrets with every step.

Masks of gold, ivory, and obsidian concealed their faces, turning them into creatures of myth rather than men.

Laughter rang sharp and hollow, like blades clashing in disguise.

Servants moved in perfect silence, offering trays of jeweled goblets filled with wine so dark they seemed to swallow the light.

Wild beasts, leashed, adorned, and tamed, prowled along the edge of the hall, their eyes glinting with a quiet, dangerous intelligence.

When Thane visited Max’s casino, he thought he had seen the world, but the current scene before his eyes broadened his horizon.