Shadow Sword of Vengeance

After a whole day of traveling without any break, darkness began to set in. Majestir's disciples, exhausted and drained, struggled to focus on the journey ahead. They could take it no longer and finally begged their master for a break. 

"You scums can never be true warriors if you cannot even endure a full day on horseback!" Majestir shouted in an angry voice. 

"But Master," one of the students protested, "it's snowing, and we haven't eaten since morning. The water we brought is turning ice-cold. Our throats are dry, and we don't have the strength to continue." 

Majestir scoffed. "I don't care what you say... You are disciples of the Great Majestir, yet you dare say you have no strength left? Is that what I taught you?" He replied while leaning forward and looking into their eyes. 

"Master, in just a few minutes, we won't even be able to see the way ahead… How can we possibly continue?" 

"Ambitions know no excuse." Majestir's voice was unwavering, his conviction absolute. 

At his words, five of his disciples fell silent. They dared not argue further and simply followed him, despite their exhaustion. 

Soon enough, It was fully dark. The thick clouds above hid the moon, Left with no choice, they began searching for the nearest inn. 

After what felt like an eternity, they spotted one and rode toward it. Upon arrival, they secured their horses and entered the building, shaking the snow from their clocks and boots. 

Inside, the warm glow of lanterns illuminated a hall filled with murmurs and weary travelers. Majestir paid no attention to the people inside. Instead, he walked toward the counter, tossed coins at the innkeeper, and ordered rooms to be prepared. 

"We only have five rooms available right now," the innkeeper replied hesitantly. 

Majestir's eyes narrowed, his patience thinning. "And who took the sixth room?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low. 

The innkeeper swallowed hard and pointed toward a corner where two men sat, their weapons beside them—mercenaries. 

Majestir wasted no time. He walked toward them with slow, deliberate steps. All eyes in the room turned to him, including those of the mercenaries, who met his gaze with curiosity. 

"Aren't you both looking good today…?" he said with an eerie smile—then, in a flash, his blade sliced through the air. 

Two heads hit the floor before anyone could react. Blood sprayed across the wooden planks. Gasps filled the room, fear gripping the hearts of those who witnessed this horrifying sight. 

Majestic turned back to the innkeeper, holding up the severed heads with a grin. 

"Can we have their rooms now?" he asked, his voice calm, almost amused. 

Terror-stricken, the innkeeper nodded hesitantly. The other guests, now too frightened to even breathe loudly, rushed to their rooms, to avoid trouble. 

Majestir simply smirked. This is how the strong take what they want.  

It was a new day... Sun was nowhere to be seen and Majestir ordered his students to mount their horses and follow him.. 

"Today all of you will witness true strength that even my brother can't comprehend. 

Learn as much as you want from the fight today..but if any one of you interferes... I will kill you before I kill him."Majestir's voice had a strong sense of happiness and anticipation. 

"After this mission, I will be promoted to my brother's rank and you all will train harder. 

Your laziness is evident and this will get you killed in battle. I do not get tired for I am the best warrior alongside my brother. After I'm chosen to be a direct disciple of one of the sins, One of you will be chosen as my closest student and representative...So Do not disappoint me" 

His students looked at him from behind with envy and respect. 

Lucien was also staying at the inn in town. After finishing his breakfast, he stepped outside, knowing full well that an attack was inevitable. Without hesitation, he left the city, preparing himself for what lay ahead. 

"You shouldn't care about others, Misk," he said as they walked. "Do not stop when you see someone killing or robbing. Sympathy is a disease without a cure—nothing good comes from it. Feelings are a person's greatest enemy; they weaken you little by little. There is no such thing as friendship, love, or sympathy in reality… It is merely an illusion created by the weak to keep you constrained." 

Lucien continued along a breathtaking path, flanked by towering peaks and vast snowy lands. His mind, however, was far from the beauty surrounding him—his thoughts were set firmly on the future. 

"I live for revenge, O Misk," he explained. "I want to die without regret. Only after my mission is complete will I embrace death—for this life has nothing more to offer me than the taste of vengeance." 

He mounted the horse and said "Feelings are lies and every feeling leads to betrayal." and continued his journey. 

He reached a small hill and stopped there, ran his hand along Misk's neck, and dismounted. 

After a few hours, Majestir and his party spotted Lucien in the distance and marched towards the hill. 

Lucien looked at them from above with indifference and a face without reaction. 

"So, he is the disciple of 'Sin of Pride'" He murmured 

Soon enough, Majestic reached the hilltop and stood in front of Lucien. 

Lucien was sitting leaning back on Misk which angered Majestir and he shouted with anger "Oye, You filthy scum, stand up." 

Lucien didn't reply. 

"He is the great, Majestir, Brother and disciple of Majestic the student of the sin of pride" announced one of Majestir's students. 

"Brother of Disciple of pride?"Lucien thought while standing up 

"aren't you too weak to fight me?.. ha....Aren't they careless" Lucien explained with his voice full of disappointment. 

This angered Majestir more and he shouted "I am as strong as My brother and the sin of pride, our ranks do not determine strength. There was no warrior equal to me, neither there is one now, nor will there be any, for I am the greatest fighter in this world"