The duel on the plains of the Riverlands had reached a terrifying, desperate climax. The Golden Throwing Knife, Master Sterling's ultimate weapon, was embedded uselessly in the thick iron shaft of Darius's staff.
The Iron Baron laughed, a cruel, booming sound that echoed across the silent battlefield. "Is that it, old man? Is that the great legend of the Golden Lion? Reduced to throwing trinkets?"
Master Sterling sat on his exhausted roan, his broadsword sheathed, his chest heaving. He looked at Darius, his eyes devoid of fear, filled only with a cold, absolute resolve. "A legend is not built on a single blade, Baron. It is built on knowing when a battle is over."
Sterling slowly raised his hands in a gesture of submission.
The Brotherhood erupted.
"No! Master Sterling, no!" Liam Thorne roared, drawing his broadsword. Marcus the Iron Fist and Julian the Silver Tongue surged forward, their weapons raised.
"Hold the line!" Sterling commanded, his voice cracking like a whip, freezing his men in their tracks. "I yield the duel! The terms were set! The Golden Lion surrenders his territory!"
Darius threw his head back and roared in triumph. The mercenaries behind him cheered wildly, clashing their spears against their shields. The Iron Baron had humiliated the greatest legend of the underground without losing a single man.
"You are wise, old man," Darius sneered, lowering his massive three-sectioned staff. "Get off my plains. And tell the White Stallion that the Riverlands belong to me."
Master Sterling offered a stiff, formal bow from his saddle. He turned his horse and rode slowly back toward the Brotherhood's lines. The silence among his men was suffocating. They felt the sting of the defeat as deeply as if they had been struck themselves.
"Master..." Liam whispered as Sterling rode past. "Why?"
"Because if I had continued, I would have died, and you would have charged the field to avenge me," Sterling replied quietly, his eyes fixed forward. "We would have lost half our army in a pointless bloodbath over pride. We did not come here to conquer the Riverlands, Liam. We came here to show the Baron we were not afraid of him. He has his victory. Let him choke on it. Our true war is in Oakendell."
The Brotherhood retreated, their pride wounded but their army intact.
While the vigilantes licked their wounds, a very different kind of storm was brewing in the neighboring province of Xian.
Darius, the Iron Baron, had returned to his fortified stronghold in Riverbend (the northern city), reveling in his undisputed dominion. But his victory celebration was cut short by the arrival of a panicked messenger.
"Baron Darius!" the messenger gasped, falling to his knees in the grand hall of the stronghold. "I bring urgent news from your brother's estate in Xian County!"
Darius's cruel smile vanished. He cared for very few people in the world, but he was fiercely protective of his older brother, Danton. Danton was a quiet, honest merchant who had always disapproved of Darius's violent life, but blood was blood.
"Speak," Darius commanded, his voice rumbling ominously.
"It is the new Magistrate of Xian County, a corrupt tyrant named Lord Xander," the messenger stammered. "Lord Xander has a son, a vile, spoiled aristocrat named Xander the Younger. The son saw your niece, Lady Kaelia. He demanded her hand in marriage."
Darius's eyes narrowed. Kaelia was a fierce, independent young woman who had inherited her uncle's fighting spirit, though she used it only for self-defense. "And my brother refused, I assume."
"He did, My Lord," the messenger nodded rapidly. "So Xander the Younger brought an armed guard to the estate to take her by force! Lady Kaelia fought them off, humiliated them in the courtyard! But... but Lord Xander retaliated. He fabricated charges of unpaid taxes and treason. He sent the county guard to arrest your brother. Master Danton is locked in the deepest dungeon of Xian County, and they are threatening to execute him if Lady Kaelia does not surrender herself!"
The heavy oak goblet in Darius's hand shattered under the sudden, immense pressure of his grip. Wine spilled across the floor like blood.
"They arrested my brother," Darius whispered, the sound far more terrifying than any roar. "They dare touch my blood."
Darius turned to his lieutenants, Kyle "The Lightning Strike" and Tim "The Iron Rod".
"Gather the men," Darius commanded, his eyes burning with a psychotic, murderous rage. "We are not fighting honorable duels anymore. We are marching on Xian County. I am going to tear that Magistrate's head from his shoulders, burn his courthouse to the ground, and slaughter every man who stands in my way."
Darius packed his heavy iron armor and his terrifying three-sectioned staff. He didn't wait for his full army to assemble; his rage propelled him forward. He rode out alone, intending to rendezvous with his lieutenants near the Xian border.
He rode hard through the day and into the night. Exhausted and hungry, he realized he had bypassed the safe taverns and was now traveling through a dense, unfamiliar forest near the county line.
Suddenly, a voice echoed from the dark trees ahead.
"Halt! This is a toll road! Leave your silver, or leave your life!"
Darius pulled his massive warhorse to a stop. He peered into the gloom and saw a man standing in the center of the road, wielding two large, spiked war hammers.
"Do you know who you are addressing, forest rat?" Darius rumbled, resting his hand on his iron staff.
"I don't care if you're the King!" the bandit yelled back, puffing out his chest. "I am Darius, the Iron Baron of the Riverlands! I am undefeated! Surrender your gold!"
Darius blinked. For a moment, his murderous rage was entirely eclipsed by sheer, profound confusion.
"You are... the Iron Baron?" Darius asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
"That's right!" the bandit boasted, stepping forward and swinging his hammers. "I crush skulls for breakfast! Now pay up!"
Darius let out a slow, terrifying sigh. He dismounted his horse, drawing his massive three-sectioned staff. "I have heard many things about the Iron Baron. I heard he uses a three-sectioned staff, not common hammers. And I heard he never robs lone travelers in the dark like a coward."
"I... I changed my weapons!" the fake Baron stammered, suddenly realizing the massive size of the man he was threatening.
Darius didn't waste another word. He swung his iron staff with blinding speed. The heavy iron weight smashed directly into the bandit's right war hammer.
CRACK!
The bandit's hammer shattered into pieces. It wasn't solid iron; it was carved wood, painted to look like heavy metal. The sheer force of the blow sent the fake Baron flying backward into the dirt, screaming in terror.
"Mercy! Mercy, My Lord!" the bandit wailed, scrambling backward on his hands and knees. "I didn't know you were a real warrior!"
Darius loomed over the pathetic man. "You claim the name of the Iron Baron, yet you wield wooden toys. Tell me your real name before I crush your skull."
"I am Derek! Derek the Fool!" the bandit sobbed. "I have a starving mother, My Lord! I just use the Baron's name because it scares people into giving me their silver! I didn't mean any disrespect to the real Baron!"
Darius stared down at the trembling coward. A part of him wanted to kill the man simply for the insult. But the mention of a starving mother stayed his hand. He remembered his own brother, rotting in a cell.
Darius reached into his pouch, pulled out a handful of silver coins, and threw them into the dirt. "Take the silver. Buy food for your mother. If I ever hear you using my name again, I will feed you your own wooden hammers."