Killing Monsters Read online

  Tales of Dragons Continent

  Killing Monsters

  Book One

  R.T. Islington

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Hiroki Mitsue

  Chapter 2: Yoshihiro Hiroto

  Chapter 3: A Clash of Katanas

  Chapter 4: Celebrations and Revelations

  Chapter 5: Astaroth Dragonclaw

  Chapter 6: Bellethiel Evergreen

  Chapter 7: Crow Cadogan

  Chapter 8: Archie Shieldstone

  Chapter 9: Tatsuya Toshiro

  Chapter 10: Ragrim Bjorn

  Chapter 11: Jadar Sky

  Chapter 12: Tomorrow We Shape the Future

  Chapter 13: Angelika Storm

  Chapter 14: Mustangs

  Chapter 15: A Shocking Goodbye

  Chapter 16: Assassination

  Chapter 17: Cutthroat’s Grasp

  Chapter 18: Darius Kazim

  Chapter 19: Betrayal

  Chapter 20: The Bronze Giant and The Raging Lion

  Chapter 21: Killing Monsters

  Chapter 22: Love and Blood

  Chapter 23: The Wrath of Tatsuya

  Chapter 24: Our Own Kingdom

  Appendices, History and Backstories

  Appendices

  Characters of Relevance

  History and Backstories

  Chapter 1:

  Hiroki Mitsue

  As the sun rose early in the morning, it commenced the beginning of summer across the lands of Dragons Continent. The air was chilled and refreshing, and the sun warmed the soul whilst its rays kissed the body. The smell of fertile grass and soil overwhelmed the senses, bringing smiles to most people as the dawn of this new season began.

  The birds in the trees, having emerged from their slumbers, began to sing cheerfully, seemingly celebrating the dawn of a new season and morning, and their songs became sweet melodies to the ears of all who passed by. Wild rabbits began emerging from their deep burrows. They were happy, and shared the morning’s first light with their litters, who perhaps themselves emerged from their burrows into this big unknown world for the first time. Groups of male whitetail deer appeared, roaming the woodlands and feeding off the moisture-soaked grass and moss, seemingly preparing for another mating season and competition from other males. Loud cracks could be heard as two rival male deer clashed heads for the first time in a fierce duel for dominance and first pickings at nearby females, and as the duel intensified, the two males halted after seemingly being spooked by an unseen predator.

  A loud squawk was heard from high above in the sky, sending the deer into panic; they gave up their duel for dominance and instead darted for nearby cover, for they knew the sound of this predatory animal far too well—the golden griffin. The griffin flew over its usual prey with its feathers glowing radiantly against the morning sun’s rays. Its wingspan was wide and propelled it to incredible speeds, and its razor-sharp talons, though physically imposing, were not going to be used for now.

  The griffin seemed to be keen on avoiding a nearby threat as well, and as the griffin launched further into the sky and left its forest territory, it soared above a massive green open field and looked down upon the threat. A clan of mighty warriors occupied the field, and had done for some days. The griffin squawked one last time and flew off into the distance, not before looking down at the warriors. This clan of mighty warriors struck fear into everyone’s hearts, and on this morning, they too welcomed the dawn of summer. The mighty War Hogs had begun to wake.

  The War Hogs had been camped here for days, and had taken a break from battle. They seemed to be enjoying a time of peace and rest. The warrior clan was a specialist nomadic group of fighters who travelled the entire Centre Plate offering their services for the right coin. They were masters of war and exploration, which was made apparent by their encampment on the lush field. They had erected hundreds of tents made of robust and weatherproof fabrics that sheltered many individuals.

  Raised high and adjoining onto the tents as well as scattered throughout the camp were huge banners with the War Hogs’ symbol. The banners were of a black fabric with the head of a giant hog with razor sharp tusks sewn in red. The hog’s face appeared enraged, staring forward with a battle-ready glare, and two crossed swords laid behind the image of the hog. It would appear when looking at this hog as though its evil glare was staring into your very soul and daring you to attack this savage clan. The War Hogs were truly fearsome in battle.

  Campfires were plentiful, cooking the finest slabs of wild boar and deer meat, and the mouth-watering smells of this fine cooked meat brought hunger to any passer-by. Makeshift paddocks were in place for the horses that the warriors rode into battle and travelled with. Grunts and morning greetings from the palfreys and destrier horses could be heard all around the encampment as they awaited their morning oats and apples.

  As the morning began, one could hear the sound of sharpening steel as mobile blacksmiths prepared swords, spears, arrows, and armour, no doubt readying for the next conquest. It seemed as though the morning sounds of sharpening steel, breakfast cooking on fires, and horses calling acted as morning alarms, as the warriors began appearing from their tents after deep, well-earned sleeps.

  Laughter, chatting, and cheerful play-fighting commenced as the warriors began greeting each other and joining each other for breakfast. There was a heightened sense of excitement sweeping through the camp as their next conquest seemed to be near.

  Far off into the distance, just past the encampment under a giant Oak tree, a young warrior was practising his sword techniques. This young skilful warrior was called Hiroki Mitsue.

  The young swordsman was of a slender build and stood at five-ten, and had long blonde hair which reached just below his shoulders. On this day his hair had been tied into a bun in preparation for a sword duel, and the boy donned a gold headband which was bound firmly in place. Hiroki’s eyes were unique: the left iris was green and glowed like an emerald, and the right iris was a piercing blue colour, appearing as though the ocean was on show through the eye for all to see. Hiroki was clean-shaven and fresh-faced, which enhanced his pearly white teeth and smile. Altogether, he was of a feminine appearance and was a good-looking young boy; in fact, people often joked, “How can a man that’s prettier than most women be such a fearsome swordsman?”

  Hiroki boasted an all-black kimono tied around his waist by a black rope. On the back of the kimono was the symbol of the War Hogs. Grasped in Hiroki’s hands was his sword, the White Sleeper.

  The katana had been wielded by Hiroki since his youth. The hilt of the sword was white and was carved into the shape of a dragon’s head. The hand wrap was also white, but there were breaks in the wrap up the handle which revealed imbued emeralds. The hand guard was white and was also crafted into a pattern which created an illusion of a dragon’s body. The blade was razor sharp and shone magnificently in light, with the edges looking as though they could slice through diamond. The sword's blade was protected within a white sheath, which had fine carvings of green dragons carefully engraved into it. This sword was an item of fine and deadly beauty, and considering the duel that awaited Hiroki this morning, he would need the finest sword at his disposal.

  Unlike the other members of this travelling warrior clan, Hiroki chose to wake early, unable to sleep knowing of the task that awaited him on this beautiful morning.

  Having just turned twenty-one and coming of age, just like all trained swordsman, he had to now duel his sensei to earn his black headband, symbolising his status and confirming he had earned the title of ‘Swordsman.’

  Swing after swing and combination after combination, he became more frustrated. Come on, you’re nowhere near good enough, Hiroki told himself, seemingly beginn
ing to doubt his own excellence.

  Hiroki’s sensei wasn’t just an ordinary fighter; he was the most feared swordsman throughout the lands, and leader of the War Hogs—the mighty Yoshihiro Hiroto. After spending hours practising, Hiroki dropped to his knees. Well, this will be embarrassing—trained by the greatest swordsman in the lands, and still not good enough to earn the black headband.

  Hiroki laughed to himself, hoping it would put him at ease, but it didn’t.

  He heard a familiar voice. “Don’t tell me ya fucking giving up already? That’s not the bastard I know!”

  Hiroki turned to see the master blacksmith, Ragrim the dwarf, walking towards him, and his warm smile filled Hiroki’s heart with confidence. Ragrim was a brave warrior and one of eight commanders in the War Hogs who were known as the Cursed Bastards. “Ragrim! Fuck! How did you know I was here, you little bastard?”

  “Oi! Less of the little!” laughed Ragrim. “You’re quite the tenacious one, just like Yoshihiro! Where else would you be before your big showdown with your fierce teacher Yoshihiro?”

  Ragrim approached Hiroki and they embraced then saluted. It was the War Hogs’ salute, the right hand held out with the thumb and pinky finger extended. Ragrim had known Hiroki since he was a mere child, and had helped raise him with Yoshihiro when they rescued him as a boy.

  Ragrim was short and stocky like all dwarves, and boasted a smile which seemed to stretch from one side of his face to another. He had long black hair and a matching thick black beard. Ragrim’s green kimono was tied around his waist by a brown belt and silver buckle. He sported gold rings on every finger with different gemstones heading each ring. Around his neck were thick gold necklaces; dwarves were always seen in the finest jewellery. Gold gauntlets were present on Ragrim’s thick forearms, which seemed to compliment his broad build. Everything about Ragrim’s attire was perfect; even his brown boots had gold stitching.

  Ragrim sensed fear from within Hiroki. “Come on, ya big pussy! Don’t tell me ya too scared to go up against the most feared swordsman of all time!” joked Ragrim, tongue in cheek. “Look, ya been trained well by Yoshihiro and ya probably better than that miserable bastard was when he was your age, anyway! Trust in your technique and you’ll be fine! Look at all the battles you’ve had so far with us, against all the foes we’ve fought—you’re still alive, ain’t ya?”

  What Ragrim is saying is right . . . or is this just an attempt to make me feel better for when I lose? thought Hiroki mournfully. Hiroki couldn’t help but smile. Ragrim had that effect on most people, being a dwarf with a lust for life and love of all things dangerous.

  Hiroki perked up. “You’re right, I can fucking do this! I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve slaughtered in battle, and my sword has never let me down! I’ll defeat sensei and make you proud, you and the other Cursed Bastards!”

  “Good lad! Good fucking lad! Strike the fucker down and use your rage! The darkness you feel in your heart, use that too!”

  The importance of earning a black headband from an elite swordsman is one of the honours that distinguishes swordsmen from other fighter classes.

  There are five different coloured headbands that symbolise achievements and skill. The colours are bronze, silver, gold, black, and green.

  The bronze headband is given to all swordsmen who arrive at the island of Swordsman Shores and enter the renowned dojo of sword fighting. A swordsman, upon making the decision to dedicate his life to swordsmanship and bowing before the mighty dragon Davorin who guards Swordsman Shores, receives the bronze coloured headband to symbolise the beginning of his journey.

  The silver headband follows after, and to achieve this, an individual must have resided at Swordsman Shores for at least two years, training every day and winning five hundred one-on-one battles against different fellow swordsmen on the island. He is then presented with the silver headband.

  To acquire the gold headband is quite a task; one must spend at least five years on Swordsman Shores, and must have won eight hundred duels in one-on-one combat on the island. Upon achieving that goal, the grand dragon Davorin would issue a list of ten names to one of the head instructors on the island, and the list would consist of lowly cut throats, rapists, murderers, child abusers, and many other unsavoury characters. The instructor would pass the list to the swordsman, who must then hunt these vile beings down and kill them, bringing back their heads as proof. Upon completing this task, the gold headband would be awarded.

  To earn the black headband is perhaps the most intimate and emotionally toughest task for any aspiring swordsman. To earn the black headband, a swordsman must simply duel another swordsman of black headband status or higher, a master swordsman, as these warriors are called. Both fighters must duel topless, and the winner of the duel is the one who draws first blood from either the arms, legs, or torso area. The mighty dragon of Swordsman Shores, Davorin, must be in attendance to bear witness to the achievement, and to use his power to heal the wounds after the duel. The black headband is awarded after, and the fighter can finally boast the title of ‘Swordsman.’

  The highest honour that a swordsman can achieve is to earn the famed green headband. The task to earn this varies, as Davorin issues these individually with no task being the same.

  The green headband is so rare that on an odd occasion, if a swordsman is seen with one, it's usually dismissed as a rumour or trick of the light.

  “Right! I’m ready, take me to Yoshihiro,” Hiroki stated bravely. “I’m ready for my duel!”

  Before Ragrim could move and Hiroki could speak, a young woman was heard screaming angrily as she ran towards them. “I fucking knew you were going to leave without me, Hiroki!”

  A beautiful young woman approached Ragrim and Hiroki. Upon catching her breath, she looked up and smiled, they both knew who she was. She was a commander in War Hogs, and one of the Cursed Bastards. The young woman was a wielder of magic and a fearsome mage. Her name was Angelika Storm.

  Angelika stood at five feet five, her raven black hair shone in the morning sun, and her seductive smile beamed with a hope and optimism for her friend Hiroki. Angelika had piercing blue eyes, a cute buttonlike nose, and faint freckles over her face. This quirky feature seemed to add to her attractiveness, as even the freckles seemed perfect. Angelika sported knee high black boots with silver stitching, fairly fitted black cotton bottoms, a purple tunic with a black leather jerkin, and she wore her favourite green and gold hooded cloak. Like all mages, her staff was a sight of beauty; the burgundy dragon wood was flawlessly sanded down and finished with a shine. No doubt Ragrim had worked on this over the years! Multicoloured gemstones were imbued into the staff, and at the top of the staff encased in solid gold was a glimmering diamond, which was probably the same size as a gargoyle’s fist.

  Angelika walked over to Hiroki and punched him in the arm playfully. “I can’t believe you sometimes Hiroki, you’re such a cunt! You were going to leave without me!” she hissed.

  Hiroki blushed, he was always nervous around women, especially ones as beautiful Angelika. He responded awkwardly, “For fuck’s sake, gimme a break! I was just practising. I was gonna come and find you.”

  “Bullshit, Hiroki! You were gonna fuck off and leave! I’m not some moronic damsel that can be discarded by a man and lied to. I ought to blast you with fire.” Angelika’s staff began to glow.

  Ragrim interjected playfully, perhaps sensing this unnecessary pressure was not needed at this time. “Leave the little fucker alone, Angelika, he’s got a mammoth task today. Anyway, we're all here now!”

  Acknowledging this, Angelika continued, “Fine, fuck it. You better not lose, Mr Mitsue, I won’t marry a swordsman who can’t obtain a black headband! I’m a woman that knows my worth, only the best man will do.” She winked playfully.

  “Shut up Angie,” Hiroki said with a playful laugh. “Anyway, did Yoshihiro tell you where the duel would be?”

  Hiroki and Angelika had grown up as orphans together after being res
cued by Yoshihiro and the War Hogs. Their feelings for each other over time had developed into an unspoken love, but Hiroki was always uneasy and shy around women, and he was yet to confess his love.

  A thunderous roar was heard from above, and the three looked up into the sky to see a mighty green wingspan of at least ninety meters in length fly over. The wind almost blew them off their feet. This was the famed dragon of Swordsman Shores, Davorin.

  The dragon circled them again. He spoke to Hiroki in a deep rough tone. “Boy, today is a glorious day. Make me proud and win your duel. I’ll be waiting with your sensei over those hills.” The dragon flew off into the distance.

  Hearing Davorin speak and gazing at his might reminded Hiroki of his own golden dragon named Thunder, who was out hunting. Hiroki was not worried; he knew his dragon would find him in time for the duel. Hiroki’s eyes glazed over and his war glare revealed itself as if he was about to become rabid. Hiroki was a quiet and respectful young boy, but when battles commenced, it was as if he became possessed by Davorin himself.

  Ragrim and Angelika sensed the change in Hiroki and backed off, knowing he was now ready for battle.

  All of a sudden, Hiroki, Ragrim, and Angelika heard Yoshihiro’s voice telepathically. “I don’t like being kept waiting! Make your way over the hills quick. Meet me, fight me, and strike me down if you can, boy!” Some humans had the ability to communicate telepathically, though this practice takes years to master.

  Yoshihiro had declared it time to duel. Hiroki, Ragrim, and Angelika made their way over the hills to meet the dragon Davorin and the feared swordsman, leader of the War Hogs and Hiroki’s sensei, Yoshihiro Hiroto.

  Chapter 2:

  Yoshihiro Hiroto

  Hiroki, Ragrim, and Angelika made their way over the hills and saw Yoshihiro eagerly waiting. Yoshihiro was joined by six elite commanders of the War Hogs, the Cursed Bastards. There were eight commanders in total, including Angelika and Ragrim, and all had served with Yoshihiro in battles over many years.