TRAILING SHADOWS

A minute later, father and daughter remained. The younger staring at the back of her father, still with a registered look of calm spirit. While the elder stood with dropping shoulders, each arms heavy, seeming to be mere attachments to his shoulders.

After what seemed like an eternity, Folarin turned.

"You must hate me, don't you?" He asked, observing her from head to toe.

"It's not your fault,father, you just happened to be in this circ.u.mstance. Don't take it too hard on you." She replied, her voice having a slight tinge of emotions.

At that, Folarin shook his head bitterly.

"Train me father. Help me get stronger." Ibiyemi added, taking out her Saarins that were attached to her waist. So doing, she pointed both tips at her father.

General Folarin frowned, unconsciously clasping the hilt of the blade tighter than before. It was a memory of the time his errant stupid son, Afolabi had come into the training pits to divulge the very secret he had been trying to keep away from everyone.

Ths secret of his being being a tainted, as result, his soul class was merely stalled at Lord Class, unable to advance further because of the invading demonic energies within him.

This same very pit, he had been and since that day, the memories had continued to haunt him.

In fact, if skilled, ones aura itself could be used as a means of attack or defence, depending on the application and the law one studied.

In his case, he had to curtail it. The more he used Agbara, the aspectual energy of creation, the faster demonic dark energies flows into him, cutting him further from acessing Agbara.

And, the more tht happened, the faster he came to being disposed as the head of BlueMoon Mercenary Alliance House and even faster, he came to becoming a demon.

He ought to retire at this stage, definitely. Retirement of tainted often helped him stay back as Irunmoles, slowing the demonification effect on them. However, retirement only meant his errant son, Afolabi, the silly son he had was to become the next in line General of the Alliance House.

For a son that constantly disregarded him, disrespected him and openly flaunted his orders while bringing all sort of catstrophes with his unwise decisions - actions that he himself as General had to step in to clean - certainly a post like that for his son was unacceptable.

Such son would bring only disregard and further shame to the family, ruining his hard-earned legacy.

And that was a no go area.

He looked around him, controlling the rage to settle down as he observed the scarecrow dummies arranged in circular rings around him in the training pit.

On a good day, the times before he became a tainted, all he would need do was to cast illusionary techniques, summoning real time targets for his practice. It was a hectic schedule but for one to lead an Alliance House with the tendency of many a mercenaries wanting to go rogue, one needed to be tough and powerful indeed.

That was his goal, until he became tainted, stalled from ever ascending the charts. To forestall his inevitable impeachment and the installation of his errant son as new General, he had defied a method.

A method that required him to wear a soul cloaking Artefact as a necklace.

The red headed lace dangling from his neck. 

If no one could soul gaze him, no one would truly determine his soul class and then no one would ever think of removing him.

At least, until Ibiyemi got strong enough to take over.

Wearing a red long coat, white slim fit vest, black trousers and boots of same color, Folarin inhaled again, deeper than before.

He held his breath in, l.i.c.k.i.n.g his lips while bidding time. And then, after what seemed like an hour, he exhaled, expelling long overdue air out.

He rushed forward, twisting his upper body like a chopper's blades as he sliced through all the dummies in one strike.

After clearing the first circle, he rushed to the bigger circle next to him. His eyes shone fiercely as he narrowed down his eyebrows, swiping the blade in one strong upward strike, his aura beginning to expand outwards.

"I forgot! Not supposed to use Agbara." He exhaled deeply and inhaled deeply too, his upper torso bent down in sync with his lowered blade arms in front.

He was not supposed to use Agbara. That as his motive for training with dummies this time. Strength was respected in the Heavens and for him to still retain his respect, he needed to do the alternatives, train to be as formidable as Irunmoles from Ilu Ogun. Who without mastering the law of War to the total were extremely durable, destruction dealers.

Since he had let Ibiyemi go out on the bounty to capture the rogue mercenaries and the bounties, Sunday and Ibiyemi, he had been doing this.

And, each time, he had not recorded as much success as he wanted.

Right now, the only hope he could have was that Ibiyemi was equally getting strong. 

Infact, more stronger than the Omega Class.

Folarin chuckled, rising up, the sword held in both hands before him.

"Am I not putting too much on that girl's shoulders already?" He spoke to himself. "She just ascended into Elite a while back and now I have high hopes for her to achieve Omega.

What a joke, there, Folarin."

"Who would have thought that in this time of o my life, I'd become a comedian this much? Hehehe." He chuckled, walking back and away to the wall of the pit.