From his position, Jonn observed the man whose fine clothes were now soiled with others’ blood, but notably none of his own. He paused to catch his breath, allowing his companions to face the enemy.

  Acelin possessed a whisper of mana in his body, but he was no mage. Jonn couldn’t define the situation with this enemy precisely, but Acelin was not a warrior who would impede the movement of the village guards.

  The Dayflare-uniformed guards closed their circle around Acelin, whose attempted escape deteriorated into panicked spinning. His wild eyes searched for allies among the survivors, finding only defeated servants and wounded followers—none capable or willing to fight for him now.

  “Petyr! Are you aware of the repercussions of this?” Acelin’s voice cracked as he glared at the unmasked rider atop a gray horse. The threat in his words rang hollow in the face of his complete defeat.

  Now Petyr was without his mask, having lost it in the battle. He maintained a stony silence as two of his men dismounted, their boots crunching on the blood-soaked earth as they approached Acelin. Their weapons remained lowered, but their intent was clear in every step.

  “Acelin, you’ve made a mistake. Bringing a battalion of enemies into the vicinity of the village destroyed any chance of good relations we had.” Petyr’s face twisted with a complex mixture of anger and disappointment.

  For many years, Acelin had been a positive contact for the village. Hewet had always given this merchant the edge over others who passed through the Barren Hills of Deepshadow and had even advised Petyr to prefer doing business with Acelin.

  Now, Petyr felt this man’s betrayal far more keenly than anything he had ever felt before. He wanted to get off his horse and beat Acelin to death!

  But Petyr stood his ground, looking down from his horse at this fellow who had hidden himself well and posed as a friend.

  Acelin spat, the gesture as venomous as his words, “I say the same! I came to save you, but with the deaths you’ve caused today, Lord Uranius won’t stop until he wipes out your village!”

  His eyes shifted between Petyr and Jonn, whom he’d already identified. Turning toward the boy struggling to rise near the fallen mages, he shouted, “Jonn, I came with them out of respect for your grandfather, to give you a chance! Had you cooperated, this could have ended peacefully. But now… Tsk! Prepare for the worst! Lord Uranius isn’t like me—he won’t stop until this matter is settled!”

  Jonn used Windy’s help, mounting his horse despite his injuries. She carried him to where his companions surrounded the enemy camp’s survivors, passing scattered village warriors who were either resting or surveying the battlefield.

  Drawing alongside Petyr, Jonn studied the merchant he’d dealt with over the past three years. The suspicions he’d harbored since their second meeting had now been upheld—Acelin was indeed the threat Jonn had always suspected him to be.

  Questions still lingered in Jonn’s mind as he studied the corpulent merchant—a man who had narrowly escaped death during the meteor shower, saved only by one of his mage’s protective magics.

  Ignoring Acelin’s threats, Jonn cut to the heart of the matter. “Why were you looking for the village, Acelin?”

  The merchant’s scowl deepened, his glare sweeping across Jonn and his allies. He didn’t enjoy having his threats ignored and replied accordingly, “Who knows? Why should I answer your questions? If you don’t fear Lord Uranius, then I’m as good as dead, and nothing else matters!”

  Through [Arcane Sight], Jonn perceived the truth behind Acelin’s bravado. Despite his determined words, the merchant’s situation betrayed him—the man was on the verge of having a heart attack.

  He really is a born trader, Jonn mused. Even facing death, he masks his fear and attempts to negotiate.

  Resting an arm on Windy’s elegant neck, Jonn let silence settle over the battlefield, allowing tensions to ebb. His gaze moved deliberately between Acelin and the nine survivors before he announced, “I offer you a choice: life as worker-prisoners of the Eternal Village in exchange for your knowledge, or death. Choose.”

  The nine servants didn’t hesitate; their voices overlapped as they pledged obedience for mercy.

  Jonn addressed Acelin in measured tones. “I’ll keep you alive as long as you choose to talk and don’t commit further aggression against the village. You will not be free to return to your state, and you will have to work for the village for the rest of your life. But we will feed you and not torture you, as long as you follow our rules.”

  True fear gripped Acelin. He’d expected immediate execution, or worse, torture to death. That was what the famous Destroyer would do, what he feared the legendary figure’s grandson would choose.

  His earlier threats had been mere bargaining chips, attempts to prove his value alive rather than dead. Survival had always driven his actions, whether for basic necessity or greater comfort. He wouldn’t abandon that instinct now for some foolish display of courage.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Jonn’s offer of prisoner status calmed him marginally—not enough for comfort, but sufficient to think clearly. “Can I trust your promise?” he asked. “Will you follow the “Rules of War”?”

  The “Rules of War,” established after the Second Magic War, were a manual released by the victors of the second war, which guided how to deal with survivors of battles, messengers, struggles for territory, etc. Created by mages and continental leaders, it aimed to prevent unnecessary bloodshed. Its creation was spurred by the first war’s chaos, where innocent villages and towns were decimated without explanation. Those senseless devastations had sparked post-war conflicts that ultimately ignited the Second Magic War.

  To avoid a third war, the continental leaders of the period created laws of war, documented in the renowned book “Rules of War.” This book gained significant popularity in the years between the second and third wars and was commonly read even in small villages. Although it did not prevent the third war, the manual extended the period of peace compared to the interval between the first two wars and established methods of victor-vanquished interaction that are now well-known in Valorian.

  Jonn’s entire group was familiar with the “Rules of War,” which stipulated, among other things, that one should not kill messengers or torture or kill surrendered enemies. During a battle, no one was deemed innocent of anything. Everyone could kill anyone, and the heavens themselves judged the conflicts. Whether the participants were men, women, children, the elderly, mages, beasts, or ordinary beings, no one was innocent during a battle. However, at the end of the conflict, with voluntary surrenders, the victorious side had to restrain its killing and hostile sentiments.

  Some of the village guards, who knew Jonn best, were aware that he did not adhere strictly to the "Rules of War.” Having seen him kill messengers, some of them wondered if he would follow the manual that night.

  Jonn closed his eyes, recalling the book he had read as a child. He vividly remembered the guidelines in “Rules of War.” Hewet had made him read that manual four times and memorize each of the relevant points. The old Hewet had many conversations with Jonn about that convention, always reminiscing wistfully about the past related to the book.

  Hewet had even made Jonn swear he would follow the book and its rules whenever possible to avoid repeating the mistakes of his predecessors.

  However, Jonn had his own critical sense. He understood the value of the rules established by Valorian’s former leaders and recognized that, should he lose a war, it would be preferable if the winners adhered to such a manual. Yet, he also believed that sometimes it was necessary to nip an evil in the bud, depending on the situation. He saw no issue in honoring his grandfather’s request and using the manual in his conduct, but he didn’t feel obliged to follow it blindly 100% of the time.

  He addressed the doubts of both the enemy and his own allies, “I will follow the "Rules of War." I will not kill you or torture you because of today’s battle.”

  Petyr looked at Jonn, contemplating the condition set by his leader’s last words.

  Jonn continued, ignoring the group of tired, wounded, or curious men, “Now it’s your turn to talk. Why have you come here?”

  Acelin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sitting down on the ground, using the unevenness of the terrain to his advantage. He was exhausted, his whole body aching, feeling like he was going to collapse and not move anymore. Feeling less threatened, he relaxed, turning his thoughts back to the origin of this situation.

  The chubby man looked up, seeing the armor adorned with symbols of a noble family from Eldoria, but also noticing a peculiar level 3 mage walking slowly toward him. Observing Jonn and Petyr, Acelin assessed the situation as it should be.

  Could these enemies be pretending to be associated with the Dayflare Family? Absolutely. But as far as he knew, there were no mages in the Eternal Village, apart from Hewet. He had investigated that old village elder for a long time and was confident in his information. The Destroyer would hardly allow another mage to live near him. So, Acelin considered William wasn’t a member of the village but a member of that noble family from Eldoria.

  ‘For some reason, the village has allied itself with or subordinated itself to Eldoria… There’s no way a man of that mage’s age could have awakened mana and become so strong in the village just three years after the Destroyer’s death. He must have come from outside and is likely representing that family.

  ‘I have to be careful. Brat Jonn might not have full control over this situation.’

  “Jonn,” he began, his words calmer and less threatening. “I don’t know what your village did to establish a relationship with the nobles of Eldoria, but our interest arose years ago when we learned about your grandfather’s death.”

  All the old members of the village there shifted their gazes, some pausing from tending to their wounds or cleaning their weapons to look in Acelin’s direction with questioning expressions. The others looked at Jonn in doubt, not knowing enough about his grandfather’s story to understand this situation.

  Jonn remained silent, waiting for the revelation he had already anticipated Acelin would make.

  As expected…

  “Your grandfather, Hewet Irondoom, was a mage, Jonn," Acelin confirmed Jonn’s and Petyr’s suspicions before adding something neither of them knew. “But he was no ordinary mage, like you or those your group killed here. Hewet was the face of death, the terror of mages, the Destroyer of Valorian!”

  Acelin’s words struck the hearts and minds of the listeners like lightning, coincidentally followed by a powerful thunderclap.

  Some warriors trembled, frightened, looking at the surroundings, now very dark, but quickly brightening and darkening again with each flash of lightning in the sky.

  “Almost six decades ago, I was a young pupil under a merchant from Sylvestria. At that time, the Third Magic War was starting to form when I had the opportunity to meet a great mage from Eldoria, War General of the Royal Army, Hewet Irondoom—a great and powerful mage at the Sage level! In those days, he was known among the soldiers as the Burning Terror, given his prowess in combat. But it was during the early days of the war that he became known throughout the continent when he decimated the forces of Arcanis and the Nation of Thalassia at the Battle of Deepshadow!

  “One day during the war, General Irondoom destroyed the Green Hills, giving rise to the Barren Hills of Deepshadow, the battleground of the six nations of Valorian. After that, he earned the moniker “Destroyer”!

  “And now, Jonn, my group was searching for the legacy of the Destroyer, the strongest of the remaining mages from the Second Magic War!”