Circle of Reign Read Online Free PDF Page A

he were engaged in a simple game, a mere exercise. Kerr fought fiercely, without any sign of trepidation. Suddenly, from a far corner in the back of his mind, a warning sounded forth. Vibrations born of iron horseshoes thumping on the earth came to the forefront of his mind just as the second attacker, who had been absent until now, rushed onto the scene and attempted to flank Kerr. Thannuel bounded up and away from the chase-giver, narrowly avoiding the slower though lethal blows of the Khansian Guard’s sword. He berated himself severely for becoming distracted to a degree that made him lose track of all threats around him. Ricocheting off several trees, the wood-dweller appeared to almost fly as he gained altitude above his attackers. He landed vertically against a large Triarch and drew in more strength, all that the tree would lend him. His sword hummed more intensely as the power that was gathering within him reached a climax and was then channeled through the specialized ore from which his sword was forged.
    When he could contain no more, Thannuel sprang from his position and thrust himself downward directly at the KhansianGuard. The man raised his shield and knelt down to shelter as much of his body as possible against the attack, but it mattered little.
    “
Vrathia
!” Kerr yelled a split second before the point of his dark blade made contact. The Khan’s shield exploded into a swarm of wooden splinters and metal shards. The sword found home in the man’s chest. His cry was cut short and replaced by an ear-splitting crunch as Kerr shot weaponized wrath through his body, pulverizing bone to powder and reducing organs to mere fluid. The Khan jerked on the ground, sprawling in the mud in silent freakish movements, bending and pulling his body in ways nature never intended before finally falling still and dead.

    “Impressive.” Thannuel raised his head in response to the Helsyan’s word and found him standing by casually looking on without concern. “And most entertaining,” he added with false admiration. “Tell me, do all your people have such curious sounding swords? I would very much like—”
    The chase-giver did not get to finish his chiding. Kerr attacked with a velocity that no human could track with his or her eyes. The smell of fury emanated from this man. Such potency. Fury not born of hatred, but of something the he could not easily identify. There was no fear in him as they danced their dance of death. The chase-giver was faster and stronger, true, but Lord Kerr’s vigor was unexpected. For a time Kerr drove him back. This made the chase-giver smile with pleasure. It felt good to have a challenge, even on a small level. He allowed the contest to linger for several minutes longer than he needed to. Pity this man would die; he had begun to admire Kerr’s ferocity and tenacity. He had to know he was beaten. For the moment, though, the chase-giver decided to partake of some sport. He knew the girl was still near. He could smell her unwarranted confidence growing.

    Reign sat secluded in the cavity of an old Triarch roughly twenty feet high. The sound of steel had caught her attention as she ran to the hold and she could not pass up watching her father live up to his legend. She had only heard stories of his abilities and prowess in the Realm but had never witnessed it herself. Although nervous seeing her father duel with a man that seemed more beast than human, she knew he was not afraid. He was her father.
    The frightening man stumbled back, clutching his lower left leg for a moment before regaining his composure. Blood added its crimson taint to his flesh, mixing with the water of the ground where he stood. The man’s face betrayed him, even for just a moment, as Reign saw surprise and wonder in his eyes. Then came an awful recognition, a revelation that caused her fear to rekindle.
This man does not fear my father
. What manner of creature feared not Lord Thannuel Kerr, a wood-dweller worthy of