The sun hung directly overhead as Toby stood at the entrance of Prenia Village, the dusty road stretching behind him. Across from him, standing in the center of a circle of scorched earth, was Captain Conrad, his armor gleaming with menace, his warhammer resting on the ground like a sleeping beast waiting to be awakened.
Toby rolled his shoulders, each joint popping like the ticking gears of a timebomb. Dust swirled around his boots as he cracked his knuckles, eyes locked on the armored brute before him. "We can forget about this, Captain. Walk away, and we don't have to spill blood today."
Conrad tilted his head slightly, amusement glinting beneath his iron-clad sneer. "I don't know who you are, brat, but you've got gall. Insulting me and the Nasyonalistas? You'll regret those words."
Toby took a step forward, lowering his stance with quiet resolve. "If I can't talk you down, then you're not just facing some runaway kid. You're picking a fight with an Ashkin Chief."
Conrad's brows shot up. For a second, he was genuinely surprised—then he threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing across the open space like a war drum. "You? A chief? You're barely out of childhood. I've slaughtered boys braver than you before breakfast. Let's see what you've got."
Without warning, Conrad dashed forward, his warhammer swinging like a meteor. Toby's eyes narrowed as he flickered—vanishing from his position and reappearing a few feet away, avoiding the blow entirely. The hammer crushed the earth, a shockwave rippling through the air.
Toby flickered again, dodging a backhanded strike. Then again—appearing behind Conrad, only to disappear as the hammer came crashing toward him.
"How do you plan to defeat me if you just keep flickering around like a fly?!" Conrad roared, his frustration boiling over. He slammed his warhammer into the ground, sending cracks through the earth like lightning bolts.
Toby flickered several feet away in a dark blur of smoke and shadow, landing lightly atop a broken wagon wheel. "Says the big man who can't land a hit," he called back, his smirk widening. "For someone with a big weapon, you sure miss a lot."
Villagers watching from their windows gasped at the audacity. Children hid behind their parents, peeking through doorways at the fearless young man teasing a captain of the paladins.
Conrad's grip on his hammer tightened until his knuckles went white. "Keep talking, boy. When I catch you, there'll be nothing left but a stain on the dirt."
Toby shrugged theatrically, flipping backward and landing in a crouch. "You're welcome to try. But you're starting to look tired, old man."
This time, it was Conrad who dashed into motion—not through magical speed, but raw force. His charge cracked the earth with each step, dust erupting in clouds behind him. Yet again, Toby vanished, reappearing just behind him, untouched and laughing.
The game of cat and mouse continued, but the crowd sensed it—the boy was not prey.
He was baiting a beast, and winning.
With a furious growl, Conrad charged again, this time with sharper precision. His movements were faster, tighter—he was adapting. A swing missed Toby by mere inches, the wind from the hammer's arc nearly knocking Toby off balance.
Toby's flickers became frantic, shorter, more unpredictable.
"Brat! That's heartstone power, isn't it?" Conrad growled, voice suddenly calm.
"Yeah, it's—" Toby began, but then—
WHAM!
Conrad hurled his hammer straight at Toby mid-sentence. It struck him squarely in the chest, sending him hurtling into a merchant's cart, splintering it to pieces. Crates exploded around him, dust and vegetables flying.
Before Toby could recover, Conrad was on him, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him into the air.
"Got you now, brat!" Conrad sneered.
Toby coughed, gasping for breath. He clawed at Conrad's armored gauntlet, but the grip tightened. Conrad raised him even higher, then slammed him into the ground.
CRACK!
Toby gasped as blood sprayed from his mouth. Pain exploded in his ribs.
Conrad lifted his warhammer again.
"CHARGE SLAM!"
The hammer came down with cataclysmic force.
BOOM!
Dust and debris shot skyward. But when the smoke cleared—Toby was gone.
A voice echoed from the side. "That was scary, big man."
Conrad spun.
Toby stood, panting, bruised, but smiling through the blood smeared across his cheek. The sun glinted off the sweat rolling down his brow. He took a breath, then launched forward with explosive energy. Shadows swirled around his body as he flickered around Conrad at rapid speed, leaving trails of dark mist behind him. He delivered a storm of blows—punches to the ribs that made Conrad grunt, a spinning heel kick to the side of the knee that forced the giant man to stagger, elbows to the shoulders meant to disrupt the brute's balance.
Each flicker came faster, more chaotic. He was a blur of motion, his body disappearing and reappearing like a shadow out of rhythm with time itself. The villagers gasped from their windows, unable to keep up with the rapid assault. Some even thought they were witnessing magic passed down from ancient Ashkin warlords. Toby's knuckles bled from the force of impact, but he didn't slow down.
He twisted midair and landed an uppercut to Conrad's chin, his feet barely touching the ground before he vanished again. A sharp jab to the solar plexus followed, then a sweep to Conrad's ankles—but the Captain stood firm. Still, for every strike Toby landed, it was a declaration: that he was more than a child, more than a mere upstart.
He was a storm—and Conrad was standing in its path.
But Conrad had learned. He turned suddenly, catching Toby mid-flicker and driving his armored elbow into the boy's gut.
Toby dropped to his knees, choking on blood. "Ungh—!"
He flickered away again, barely avoiding a crushing stomp.
"Predictable!" Conrad spat. "Your power means nothing if I can read your every move."
Toby wiped the blood from his lip. He narrowed his eyes, now glowing faintly with the energy of his heartstone.
Then he flickered.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Each flicker built momentum, gathering speed, force. Conrad raised his arms to block—but too late.
BOOM!
Toby's fist connected with Conrad's face, sending the massive captain stumbling back. Dust kicked up beneath his boots.
"Next one will break you!" Toby shouted.
He leapt into the air, flickering in a spiraling arc, his leg cocked for a powerful stomp.
Conrad saw it. He gritted his teeth, planted his feet, and swung his hammer upward.
CRACK!
Toby's foot met the hammer in midair. The collision shook the air like thunder.
Both combatants roared, pushing with all their might.
Cracks formed on Conrad's warhammer.
Then—
SHATTER!
The hammer exploded into shards.
Conrad stumbled back, staring in disbelief. "No... impossible..."
Toby stood atop the ruined remains of the hammer.
Conrad lunged, but Toby flickered backward.
"With this next attack... you'll think twice before hurting anyone again."
He flickered mutiple times toward Conrad again.
Building speed. Building momentum.
Conrad stepped back.
Toby grinned. "You think distance will save you? It only gives me more time to gather strength."
Then—
BOOM!
Toby's fist collided with Conrad's stomach.
The giant captain's eyes bulged, blood spraying from his mouth. He lifted off the ground—an impossible sight for a man so large—and flew backward, crashing into a stone building.
The structure crumbled, burying him in rubble.
Reu, Brea, and Peter stared in shock.
Peter whispered, "He's just like my old chief... maybe stronger."
Toby turned to them, grinning despite his bruises. "AHAHAH! I got him!"
Reu smirked, folding his arms. "I'm starting to think you really are strong and not some dumb dumb."
Slowly, the other Paladins began to rise from the ground. They ran to the wreckage, pulling stones away and finding their captain unconscious, buried chest-deep.
"C-Captain!" one cried.
"He's breathing, but he's out cold!"
Reu turned to the others. "Time to go."
Peter gripped his daughter's hands. "Goodbye, Brea. Be the woman you want to be."
Brea, tears brimming in her eyes, nodded. "I will, Papa. I promise."
He rode away, the silhouette of his horse fading into the horizon.
Brea turned to Toby and Reu. "So? Where now?"
Reu glanced at Toby, breathing heavily, the chaos of the battle still fresh in the air. "Chief?"
Toby smirked, brushing dust off his shoulder and wincing slightly as he touched a fresh bruise. He straightened up, eyes blazing with determination. "To GASTONMERE!!!" he shouted, pumping his fist toward the horizon.
Brea chuckled behind them, slinging her pack over her shoulder. "You sure know how to make an exit, Toby."
"Not an exit," Toby replied, already walking. "An entrance. Gastonmere is just the next chapter."
As they set off down the rugged trail, the wind carried away the dust and echoes of battle. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows before them. Villagers peeked from behind doors, murmuring stories of the boy who stood against the Nasyonalistas and shattered the mighty Conrad.
Reu walked beside him, silent for a moment before finally saying, "You know… you might just pull this crazy dream off."
Toby grinned, "I have to. Someone's got to shake this world awake."
And so, with bruises on their skin but fire in their hearts, the trio marched on. The road ahead was uncertain, but destiny had begun to carve Toby Klaus's name into legend. The journey to become the King of Ashkins was no longer just a dream—it was underway.