Home / Fantasy / THE LAST SWORD MONARCH / Chapter 13: The Bounty Doubles
Chapter 13: The Bounty Doubles
Author: Felix
last update2026-08-19 08:00:48

The report reached Zephar's study nearly two days after the crypt meeting, carried by one of his own household agents who had been specifically tasked with gathering every rumor circulating through the kingdom's market towns, however unlikely it seemed on its surface.

"A story out of Millhaven, my lord," the agent said, laying a folded paper on Zephar's desk. "And three towns beyond it since. A young swordsman, alone, defeated four bandits on the forest road south of the capital. Spared three o
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    Garrick spent the rest of that first day working the crumbled section of wall Brenric had shown him, learning stonework through trial and clumsy error, watching how the older man fitted each piece to bear weight evenly rather than simply stacking rubble into something that merely looked solid."Not like that," Brenric said, catching Garrick's third attempt at wedging a stone into place. "You're thinking about filling the gap. Think about what happens to this wall in a storm instead. Every piece needs to hold its neighbor up, not just sit there looking useful."Garrick adjusted the stone as instructed, felt it settle with a solidity the previous attempts had lacked, and looked up to find Brenric nodding, satisfied."There. You'll get faster with practice."By evening, a section of wall stood straighter than it had in years, and Garrick's hands ached with an honest kind of tiredness he found he didn't mind at all. One of the other men working alongside him, a retired soldier with a limp

  • Chapter 25: The Graypine Wilderness

    Garrick walked through the night after leaving Ravenford, putting as much distance as his legs would allow between himself and the merchant's too-knowing smile, until exhaustion finally forced him to stop in a shallow cave carved into a hillside just before dawn.He slept poorly, waking twice at sounds that turned out to be nothing, and by the time real morning light reached the cave mouth, he was already moving again, following a trail that grew rougher and less traveled with every passing mile."Where does this lead?" he asked, when the forest around him began to thicken into something wilder than anything he'd walked through before.The Graypine Wilderness, Asterion answered. Few travelers come this way. Ancient forest, ruined watchtowers, mountain trails no merchant caravan has used in a generation. Exactly the kind of place a man wanting to disappear might choose."Is that why you're not stopping me?"I am not stopping you because it is, for now, a sound choice. Whether it remain

  • Chapter 24: What the Wounds Remembered

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  • Chapter 23: A Face Remembered

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  • Chapter 22: The Rescue

    Nightfall found Garrick crouched at the mouth of the hidden trail with three other fighters beside him, watching the last traces of daylight fade from the ridge above the bandit camp. Below them, firelight flickered between rough timber structures, and the murmur of voices carried faintly on the wind."Quiet from here," Ilsa had told them before they split off, and Garrick repeated it to himself now like a promise.They moved single file down the narrow path, careful of loose stone, until the trail opened onto a rough shelf overlooking the camp from behind. Below them, a crude holding pen came into view, fenced with sharpened stakes, and inside it Garrick could make out shapes huddled together in the dark. A woman rocking a small child. An old man sitting with his back against the fence, unmoving except for the slow rise and fall of his chest."Two guards on the pen," whispered one of the fighters beside Garrick, a lean woman with a short bow already strung. "I can take the near one c

  • Chapter 21: Blackstone Pass

    Garrick was still standing at the edge of the crowd when a woman's voice cut through the noise near the guild hall entrance, sharp enough to carry."Anyone still reading that notice and not signing up, step aside. We're losing daylight."A woman emerged from the guild hall doorway, scarred along one cheek, dressed in worn leather armor that had clearly seen real use. She surveyed the gathered crowd with the flat, assessing look of someone used to sorting the genuinely useful from the merely enthusiastic.Garrick heard himself speak before he'd fully decided to. "I'll go."Several heads turned. A broad shouldered man near the front laughed outright. "How old are you," he said, not quite under his breath, "twelve?""Old enough to hold a sword," Garrick said, keeping his voice even despite the heat rising in his face."This isn't some village skirmish, boy. Whatever took that caravan didn't leave survivors." The man turned back toward the scarred woman, dismissing Garrick with his postur

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