The Invincible Young Master

As they flew through the skies, the vast expanse of Grimhold spread out below.

Endless forests stretched as far as the eye could see, with towering ancient trees standing tall like guardians of the land.

Now and then, the rustling of leaves from the canopy below hinted at powerful creatures lurking in the shadows, but none dared approach the powerful group soaring overhead.

Occasionally, they passed by small clusters of barbarian tribes, proud, self-sufficient villages situated in clearings, where the people moved about their daily routines.

The sheer size of the land was overwhelming, a never-ending green wilderness that stretched to the horizon.

Behind them, the distant snow-capped peaks of the mountains loomed, sharp and cold.

Amelia glanced back at the mountains for a moment, her expression unreadable, while Bronn and his father fixed their eyes on the path ahead.

…

"We're here," Bronn said with a hint of pride in his voice.

Below them, a large settlement came into view. It was staggeringly large, with stone and wood buildings blending seamlessly into the landscape.

The village was laid out in careful patterns, with winding streets, communal areas, and grand halls.

Barbarian warriors patrolled the perimeter, their eyes scanning the area, but their expressions softened as they recognized Bronn and his father approaching.

Suddenly, without warning, Bronn and the Barbarian King dove toward the ground, descending like meteors.

They landed with two loud booms, the earth trembling beneath their feet as cracks spread out from the impact.

Dust and dirt shot into the air in a gust, announcing their powerful return.

Spark and Amelia, in contrast, floated down more gently, landing lightly on their feet.

As soon as they touched the ground, people from the village rushed forward.

Men and women dressed in traditional fur clothes and battle armor crowded around to welcome their king and Bronn.

Cheers broke out from the gathering crowd, full of joy and awe. Children ran forward, laughing and pointing at the returning warriors.

The whole settlement buzzed with excitement, as if the king's arrival had filled the place with new energy.

"Welcome back, my King!" called out one of the elders, her weathered face lighting up with a broad smile.

"The blood fang tribe remains strong!" shouted another warrior, thumping his chest with pride.

The Barbarian King raised his hand, and the crowd quieted slightly, hanging on his words.

"We return victorious!" he declared. "Prepare yourselves, a grand feast is coming, for we have reason to celebrate!"

The crowd erupted into even louder cheers, their excitement growing at the thought of a celebration to come.

As the barbarians gathered, their excited cheers quickly turned into curious whispers when they noticed the two unfamiliar figures standing next to their king.

Spark and Amelia, calm and composed, drew the attention of the entire village.

The barbarians exchanged glances, their eyes wide with curiosity and awe at seeing humans in their settlement.

The Barbarian King raised his hand, quieting the murmurs.

His booming voice filled the clearing, carrying an air of pride. "These two are our honored guests!"

"You all have heard of the academy where my son trains. This golden boy," he gestured toward Spark, "is the boss there."

Bronn had often shared stories of his time at the academy with his people, so they knew well of the figures in the academy, of course, they had never seen them.

At the mention of the academy and Spark's title, the crowd collectively gasped.

The way the Barbarian King introduced Spark made him sound like a fierce ruler, leading with authority, and Spark couldn't help but smile wryly. Discover more stories at M-V-L

He wasn't sure how to feel about being portrayed that way, but, as usual, he kept his expression neutral.

The king then turned to Amelia, gesturing toward her with a respectful sweep of his hand.

"And this," he said, his voice deepening with reverence, "is this lad's mate, a person from the Mountain."

At the mention of the Mountain, an even deeper silence fell over the crowd. Meeting someone from those sacred lands, normally out of their reach, left them stunned.

For a moment, the barbarians stood frozen before soft gasps of awe escaped their lips.

They exchanged wide-eyed looks, struggling to process the revelation.

Whispers spread quickly, marveling at how someone from the legendary Mountain, those mysterious holy lands, was standing right before them.

"Welcome, honored guests," they all said in unison, their voices filled with respect.

As the crowd continued to stare in wonder, the Barbarian King clapped his hands loudly.

"Now, let's not keep our guests waiting. Prepare the feast!" he bellowed, and with that, the barbarians hurried off to carry out his orders, eager to honor their guests.

As preparations for the feast buzzed around them, Bronn led Spark and Amelia through the heart of the Bloodfang Tribe.

Though called a "tribe," the settlement stretched out like a massive city, much more sophisticated than one would expect from barbarians.

As they walked along the smooth, stone paths, the finely carved buildings stood tall around them, looking like they had been hewn from enormous slabs of rock—elegant yet strong.

Children ran past them, their playful laughter filling the air.

They greeted Bronn with excitement, their bright voices adding warmth to the day.

Bronn responded in kind, ruffling their hair or flashing a friendly grin.

The adults, however, watched from a respectful distance. Though curious, they gave the group space, understanding that.

Spark and Amelia, though outsiders, were under the protection of their king.

As they ventured deeper into the city, Spark was quietly impressed.

The craftsmanship of the buildings, the polished stone streets, and the sheer size of the structures were far beyond what he'd imagined.

It didn't feel like a tribe at all, more like an ancient city rich with history, one that had stood the test of time with its culture and pride intact.

Their walk took some time, but Spark wasn't surprised that they didn't see any other humans.

The Bloodfang Tribe was deep within Grimhold, a place rarely visited by outsiders.

The only humans who came here were the rare students from the holy lands, testing their skills against the fierce beasts of the region.

Outside of those rare occasions, humans were almost unheard of in this part of the world.

Finally, they arrived at the bustling heart of the city, where a tall statue stood in the middle of a grand square.

The streets were alive with merchants, warriors, and tribesfolk going about their business, but even with all the movement and noise, the statue was the main focus.

Carved from the same dark stone as the buildings, it loomed over the square like a silent protector.

It portrayed a mighty warrior, broad-shouldered and imposing, with his hands gripping the hilt of a massive war axe.

The warrior's face was set in an expression of fierce gaze, the detailed carving showing every scar and battle-worn feature.

"That statue looks a lot like you," Spark said, breaking the silence.

Bronn let out a booming laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I wish!" he chuckled, but his eyes gleamed with reverence as he gazed up at the towering statue. "That's our ancestor, the only barbarian king who led an army in that great expedition with a human emperor."

Turning to Amelia, Bronn asked. "Big sis must've heard about him, right?"

Amelia nodded thoughtfully, her gaze still fixed on the imposing figure.

"I've read about him in the library. He's said to be one of the most revered figures, a general who served under the Human Emperor." Her voice grew softer. "But his fate... was not the best."

Bronn nodded, the reverence in his eyes deepening. "Indeed. Among the tribes of Grimhold, he is honored almost as higher than the four kings themselves."

Amelia's eyes flickered as she stared at the statue, recalling the strength and valor of this figure.

The people of Grimhold revered him not only for his power but for his indomitable spirit.

His name echoed even in the secluded mountain regions, his legacy casting a long shadow.

At one point, even the holy land had viewed this figure as a threat.

"If he were alive today," Bronn continued, his voice brimming with conviction, "Grimhold wouldn't be the divided land it is now. I'm sure of it. He could've united the tribes."

In his prime, this ancestor had been the only barbarian to come close to uniting Grimhold.

Under his leadership, half the tribes rallied behind his banner, their once-scattered power forged into a formidable force.

Many believed that had he succeeded in his quest for unity, Grimhold would have risen to a level that made even the human empire tremble at its strength.

But that vision was tragically cut short.

In a fateful decision, the ancestor chose to answer the Human Emperor's call to war, leading an army of his people into a joint expedition.

Despite the heartfelt pleas of many within Grimhold to stay, to continue his unification efforts, the ancestor had been steadfast in his resolve.

His participation in that war, however, proved to be his undoing.

He never returned from the battlefields, his body lost to the chaos of war.

With his disappearance, the hope of a unified Grimhold faded like a distant memory.

The tribes, once united under his banner, splintered once more, reverting to their old ways of infighting and incessant battles for supremacy.

What could have been a lasting era of strength and prosperity for the barbarian tribes faded into the annals of history, and Grimhold returned to its fractured state.

Yet, despite this fragmentation, the legacy of the Bloodfang ancestor remained resilient.

His name still evoked deep reverence, and the memory of his deeds lingered in the hearts of many.

For those who sought to follow in his footsteps, he represented not merely a symbol of strength but a vision of what the tribes could become if they ever stood united again.

His story was a symbol of hope, illuminating the path forward for the people of Grimhold, urging them to dream of unity once more.