Drunken
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Kalik only went downstairs after Lorist and Tarkel finished their meal. Tarkel ordered more food for Kalik and told him that he would go out for a stroll with Lorist a little bit later. Kalik could put anything on his tab if he needed something.
It was already evening by the time Lorist and Tarkel departed for the dueling grounds. The Blood and Flame was quite close to the tournament area. After passing through a small alleyway, they arrived at the royal district's main road where the royal defense army's camp was located. Even though the army was mobilized, the campsite was still bustling. Flags of various colors and patterns were flown at the entrance of the camp, with many people equipped with armor, swords, and spears, going entering and leaving incessantly.
Before they passed through the main road, a few people from the camp came over and surrounded the two.
"Hey, you two must have come to answer the king's call to arms, right? I'm the Senbak Mercenary Band's vice-leader, Jason, and I welcome you two brave warriors to our band with open arms," said a thin man in old and torn leather armor.
"Go back to your crummy old mercenary band. Your men number less than 50, and most of them are injured fighters anyway. These two might as well jump off a cliff. Brothers, we are the Tigershark Slavers, subordinates of Duke Gouffman himself. We have more than 300 members. Joining our team is definitely the wiser choice," interjected a tall and proud-looking man.
Another huge red-faced man called out, "Join us, the Kalir Slavers, and you'll be provided with weapons and equipment! Friends, they're all free, so don't miss out on this chance!"
"We're the mercenary band of Duke Hock. Even though we've just formed, we treat our recruits well! You'll be treated to a bottle of sweet wine every day!" said a middle-aged man in mail.
Oh, so all of these people are here to recruit and expand their forces.
"My deepest apologies to you great warriors," Tarkel responded with a smile on his face, "The two of us work for the Peterson Merchant Guild and we've come to the kingdom to deal with setting up a trade route and other affairs while learning more about this place. We only came over because we spotted the busy campsite over there. I'm very sorry to have disappointed you gentlemen..."
The moment they heard that many turned around and returned crestfallen. However, a few people remained.
"I recognize you," said a man, looking at Tarkel.
"Who may you be?" asked Tarkel, scratching his head.
"You're one of Ballop's friends. I've seen you drinking together with him," said the man.
"Oh," Tarkel muttered with relief, "Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm Tarkel. Do you know what happened to Ballop and the rest? We lost sight of each other when we rushed out of Nupite. I haven't seen any of them since."
"Ballop's dead. I saw him collapse with a few arrows in his back when we were rushing the enemy lines," replied the man.
"What about Feline, Krinando, and Chelwar? Do you know them and their whereabouts?" asked Tarkel concernedly.
Shaking his head, he said, "I don't know them, but I think I've heard Chelwar mentioned somewhere before. He should be in the camp over there. Do you want me to take you to have look?"
"How may I address you?"
"The name's Drei. I used to be one of the supervisors in charge of shipments at the port. Just recently though, I was forced to enlist as a soldier of the Snowshame Army," replied he.
"The Snowshame Army? What's up with that?" asked Tarkel curiously.
"It's nothing surprising. Ever since we escaped the city's encirclement, the king blamed us for losing it to the enemy. Even Duke Gouffman and Duke Hock were put under house arrest so they could repent for their mistakes. As for us, we were forcefully drafted to form the Snowshame Army. Once we have 24 thousand men, we'll be sent to aid the royal defense army's recapture of Nupite. All of those people were trying to recruit scapegoats for their own men."
"Scapegoats?"
"That's right," Drei replied, "Many mercenary and slaver bands incurred huge losses during the escape from the port, so they are trying to recruit more people to bolster their ranks. When we reach the frontlines, they will send out their new recruits to take the brunt of the enemy's hits to prevent actual harm from coming to their long-time members. Consequently, the new recruits' sacrifice will also show their bands in a good light and they might be rewarded."
"Do you think that will fly?"
"Of course it will. Since the king has already declared a call to arms, those who wish to join the army's forces will come over here and be split up among the slavers and mercenaries. Once our ranks fill up in another couple of days, we'll move towards Nupite. We'll have to rely on Singwa's protection to be able to survive," said Drei with a pained smile on his face.
"I believe you'll easily live to your hundreds. Perhaps, you might even be able to score a huge achievement in the coming battles and be made a noble," Tarkel consoled before he pointed at Lorist and continued, "This friend of mine hasn't been in this area before. I was just going to show him to the dueling grounds to expand his horizons. We'll come visit you once we're done and take you for a few drinks at the Blood and Flame."
Drei nodded and said, "Very well. I'll help you locate Chelwar and the rest in the meantime. When you reach the camp, just mention Drei of Thunder's Fire. They'll know what to do."
Lorist and Tarkel arrived at the dueling grounds shortly after bidding Drei goodbye. The dueling grounds was the second-most impressive building within the capital, after the royal palace. From the outside, it seemed like two oranges squished against each other on the ground, a little similar to the sport stadiums in Lorist's previous life.
"There is a mulberry tree in the left alley near the entrance," Tarkel remarked, "Look, it's over there."
The alley was incredibly quiet and the air there carried with it a displeasing stench. Perhaps, it was used by the show-goers as a makeshift toilet of sorts, the walls were stained to a yellowish-green and a vomit-inducing stench seeped into the air from them.
However, the wall itself was marked with more than 30 strange markings that looked to be children's doodles.
Pinching his nose, Tarkel said, "Milord, every time Els goes inside, he would leave two horizontal markings on the walls, and when he comes back out, he'll add a vertical strike through the horizontal lines. Others think that he's only here to take a piss and wouldn't imagine the markings to be anything but the works of children."
"31, 32, 33., 34..."
Tarkel stopped. The last marking didn't have a vertical line through it, meaning that Els did not leave the last time he made his visit.
"Come on, let's go ask around," said Lorist.
The soldiers they met were not aware of what Tarkel was talking about. It was only after Tarkel snuck a large silver down all of their pockets that they called their company leader over. However. the company leader denied that Els had come over and insisted that he'd left after sparring two days earlier. He thought it was weird for Els to not visit for two days.
Lorist tugged on Tarkel's clothes and the two took their leave.
On the way back, Lorist told Tarkel confidently, "Something must've happened to Els. The company leader was averting his gaze without daring to meet yours. We should come again secretly during the night to find out more about this."
Tarkel said, "But that would be rather risky. Why don't we wait until we visit Viscount Timba tomorrow and have him ask around with us?"
Lorist merely shook his head. Just as Tarkel was about to make another objection, someone called out to him loudly out of nowhere. It was Drei. He brought with him a few other men, Chelwar was among them, a friend Tarkel made at Nupite.
Chelwar came over with a brilliant smile and gave Tarkel a big hug, congratulating him on his successful escape to Hamidas. He wanted Tarkel to treat him to a meal because he had nothing to eat apart from the black bread and vegetable soup they served at the camp due to losing his official documents during his escape. Now that he had met with the rich Tarkel, he would not hold back, throughout their conversation, he introduced his friends.
Oh great, here comes another freeloader like Kalik, thought Tarkel, though he did ask the rest of them to go to the Blood and Flame for a good meal nevertheless. On the way, Tarkel gave a brief account of their travels to Hamidas and breathed a long sigh.
"What's wrong, Tarkel, my brother? Why are you sighing? Are you blaming us for feasting at your expense?" asked Chelwar with dissatisfaction.
"It's not that. The two of us just went to the dueling grounds just now and realized that one of our friends staying there has gone missing. I'm just worried about his safety... I wonder how I will inform my uncle," said Tarkel in a wistful tone.
"What's wrong?" asked Drei.
"Chelwar, you should know that there was another person called Els that traveled to Nupite with me. He's is my uncle's sun. Being a martial maniac, he only occupies his time with swordsmanship training. Didn't you bring us to the dueling grounds to watch a show once? Els said that he wanted to spar with the gladiators afterwards and chose to stay here at the capital. But when I got back to the inn earlier today, the owner said that Els hasn't been back for the past two days. When I went to the dueling grounds to ask about it, they said that they haven't see Els either.
"Everyone knows that the two of us came here representing the Peterson Merchant Guild. This trip of ours also involves starting a new trade route and choosing a place to build our office. Naturally, we had a secret method of contacting each other, and I just realized that Els didn't make a mark when he left the dueling grounds last time. The soldiers we asked over there, including a company leader, also told us they haven't see Els."
"You're saying that Els is missing?" Chelwar exclaimed with surprise, "Forget about the meal, let's head back. I'll gather a few people to search the dueling grounds with you."
"There'll be no need," Tarkel hurriedly said as he stopped Chelwar, "I am more than happy with just the sentiment. However, you can't do something like this. We can't afford to offend the king by causing trouble at a time like this..."
"He doesn't scare me. We're already going to battle in a couple more days, so it makes no difference whether I die now or on the battlefield. There are only fewer than 200 people at the dueling grounds, so now's the perfect time to cause a commotion. Perhaps, we won't be sent to the battlefield after some chaos breaks out," said Chelwar.
"Huh? Didn't you tell me that there were more than a thousand royal defense soldiers stationed there? Why are there only 200 all of a sudden? What're they going to do if the slaves revolt?"
"Hehe, the royal defense army already sent out 25 thousand men. They've left behind less than three thousand. Those who remain also have to deal with the safekeeping of the warehouse sector, so there won't be that many left at the dueling grounds! All of the gladiators are locked behind bars anyway, and there are no weapons or equipment there. So, there'd be no point for them to revolt.
"Additionally, we of the Snowshame Army are gathered nearby the tournament area. If something does happen at the dueling grounds, we'll be there to stop things from getting out of hand. While I can't speak for our abilities against other fighters, we'll have no problem suppressing some slaves. Don't worry, the capital won't fall into chaos.
"Also, I heard that the king is preparing to host a huge show at the dueling grounds on the day we mobilize. More than 1600 slaves will be split into two factions for a fight to the death as a sacrifice for the war god so that we can gain his blessing for a victorious battle," Drei informed resourcefully.
"Oh, then the show on that day will definitely be an amazing one. I love watching those gladiator shows. Chelwar, make sure you don't do anything rash at the moment. I will visit Viscount Timba tomorrow. I trust that he'll accompany us. Let's stick to the plan for a nice drink tonight!" Tarkel Chelwar told.
"Alright then, it's a deal! We won't go home until we're dead drunk!" exclaimed Chelwar cheerfully.
They arrived at the Blood and Flame soon and Drei, Chelwar and the rest ordered one delicacy after another. Tarkel asked the owner whether Kalik was upstairs, but the owner said that Kalik left after drinking three bottles of fruit wine and had yet to return.
Chelwar patted on Tarkel's shoulder and said, "Stop worrying about Kalik. I think he mentioned that he has a cousin brother living here in the capital. Perhaps, he went there for a visit. Friend, book me a room, will you? I haven't laid with anyone for a long time."
Tarkel turned around only to see that Chelwar had already begun flirting with one of the maidservants of the inn. Smiling, he told the owner, "Boss, I'll be booking all the rooms upstairs for the night. Friends, if you'd like to let loose, just bring whoever you like up to those rooms before coming back for a feast. The bill's on me." When he finished, he placed a gold Forde note on the counter, garnering cheers and praise from all those present.
Drei didn't bring any maidservant into a room and only stayed to drink. Upon finishing his fourth bottle, he looked at the silent Lorist with interest and challenged him to a drinking game.
However, Lorist refused the challenge on the pretense of being Tarkel's guard. Despite that, Drei was insistent on challenging Lorist to a drinking match. In the end, Tarkel had to 'order' Lorist to accept a match so that his friend didn't lose face.
Lorist said with a distressed look, "Young master, I'm not good at holding my drink..."
But under everyone's pressure, Lorist downed three bottles of fruit wine before spitting his last mouthful out and collapsing on the table unmoving, much to the rest's amusement.
Tarkel complained, "Sheesh, you guys... You didn't have to force a non-drinker like him to get drunk... Someone, help me carry Locke up to the room for some good rest. I'm afraid he'll rat me out when we get back to the guild..."
Downstairs, ass Tarkel and his friends were just beginning to make merry, loud humping sounds along with the moans of the maidservants could be heard from the room next door. The 'drunken' Lorist, on the other hand, opened his eyes wide and quietly sat up straight...
Dueling Grounds
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Lorist pushed the window of his room open lightly, confirmed that nobody was at the small alley behind the inn, before silently making his way down to the ground and disappearing into the darkness.
The buildings along the alley to the rear of the inn all had their windows closed, perhaps because the Blood and Flame was frequented by noisy patrons. Lorist looked around to see if there was anything amiss before he headed in the direction of the dueling grounds.
The royal defense army's camp was still busy. Sounds of cries and loud laughter could be heard. The Snowshame Army's slavers' and the mercenaries' partying made a mess of the camp. Countless people could be seen coming and going through the camp gates. Even the guards of the camp's gates abandoned their posts. They sat down in groups and drank, completely oblivious to the people passing through the gates.
Lorist currently donned the disguise of a haggard mercenary. Alcoholic fumes drifted up from his clothes, he had a messy head of hair, and a bottle of rough liquor dangled by his side in one of his hands. He approached the campsite gradually, mumbling and fumbling along.
One of the lookouts noticed him and walked over. His eyes were fixed on the bottle in Lorist's hand all the way.
"Hey friend, I'm sure you've had enough to drink. Are you alright?" asked the lookout.
He helped Lorist stand and reached for the bottle with his other hand simultaneously. Lorist refused to let go of the bottle, however.
"This... is to celebrate our king's retaliation... We're going to battle soon... I... I want one more bottle... Urghh..." Lorist muttered.
The lookout patted on Lorist's back and said, "Friend, if you want to puke, do it in that alley over there. I'll hold your bottle for you while you do so, alright?"
Lorist finally loosened his grip on the bottle and let the lookout leave with it. He looked quite happy that more than half the liquor had yet to be consumed.
He pushed Lorist forward.
"Quick, go on...", he said.
His focus had already left Lorist completely; he cleaned the bottle carefully before taking a swig.
Lorist slumped over to the alley beside the camp, making sure to sound like he was struggling to hold his portion of the bottle's alcohol in.
As his steps brought him to the mouth of the alley, he was shocked by what greeted him. Dozens of drunk men lay strewn about like broken teeth and the stench of vomit and bile - stained with a hint of alcohol - billowed out of its dark depths in waves like the breaths of some gigantic beast.
He pinched his nose and disappeared into the mouth. On the other end of the darkness, the dueling grounds lay and wait for him like a beast slumbering in the night. It was a large, black mass of shadow looming domineeringly in the distance. As opposed to the alcohol and vomit of the alley now behind him, it billowed the sickeningly sweet and iron-like malodor of blood. It was indeed a monster and a hungry one at that. It devoured tens of thousands of slave gladiators and spat out that stench in return.
The darkness inside growled silently as Lorist approached, at least a dozen distinct sounds of bestial hunger could be heard. The dueling grounds' main entrance was locked. Four torches gleamed like two pairs of eyes inside, illuminating the interior in a stuttering, pale yellow glow.
Two guards approached the gate, yawning incessantly. Lorist noticed their approach and quickly circled around the beast, taking care to remain hidden in the shadows. The five other entrances were completely closed off. The ground offered no way into the beast.
He spat on his hands, rubbed them together and began the arduous climb up the sides. Like a lion clawing its way up the calves of a giraffe, he made his way up the walls and arrived at the elaborately-decorated roof. His body flipped... and he was in the belly of the beast.
The arena was circled by floors of villi-esque seats. More than ten levels rose into the night sky, chaining the space above the arena. The middle of the building was the lowest, and there was a huge tower near the main entrance, which probably served as an alarm tower. Opposite it were the priority seats and cabins from where the nobility and those of status viewed the shows.
Right in the middle of the dueling grounds was the main stage, six meters below the lowest rings of villi. Unlike the stone walls that Lorist climbed on, the inner walls around the main stage were pasted with green clay like gall covering the inside of a giant stomach. It was exceedingly smooth, nothing could scale it to escape. Anyone that entered had no choice but to be digested by the carnage inside.
The main stage had a glint like a black eye staring at the poor souls about to be swallowed whole. The smell of blood dripped off it into the air as though the stage itself was made of blood. The breeze blew through the building. It screamed in terror around its interior corners and clashed metallically with walls and other obstacles.
Charade, Jim, and the other soldiers of the house were forced to fight on those grounds with other slave fighters to the death for the entertainment of their spectators. Even though the pirates had founded their own kingdom, they had passed down their savage and dehumanizing practices. They had never once viewed the slaves as fellow humans and had them fight for their lives just to humor their masters.
Since that's the case, I shouldn't have to treat them like humans either.
Lorist's eyes blooded like the stage. Death and the desire to kill beamed from them like the rays of a blood moon. Looking at his surroundings, he realized that the alarm tower was not manned, possibly because not one of the guards were willing to soak in the chilling night breeze. He hurried to the tower and with a flash of his blade, severed the cord.
Once on the ground once more, he dropped the rope to the stage. A silent alarm was useless to his enemies, and he could continue on for quite a bit of time more after being discovered without fear of reinforcements coming to his victims' aid.
Behind the alarm tower was a gate leading to the inner sections of the building. According to Tarkel, the path led to the underground sections of the dueling grounds where the slave fighters were kept. It was said that there were at least 5000 down there.
The gate was bolted shut by a huge iron rod that was chained up and locked securely. It was no obstacle to Lorist, however. Stretching out his shortsword, he circulated his internal energy and cut the chain and bolt cleanly. The gate opened with a slight creak. Lorist entered with utmost caution and closed the gate behind him. He restored the severed chain and continued on.
After walking for a few moments, Lorist arrived at a junction. He picked the left path after some deliberation but arrived at yet another three-path fork not long after.
Darn, I still haven't got underground and there are already so many splitting paths... I might get lost if I'm not careful...
Lorist put his ear to the wall. He could hear the voices of people conversing coming from the left path. Thus, he entered the tunnel, feeling the walls as he walked on in darkness. Not long after, light could be seen from the other end of the tunnel. The source was two lit torches that hung on the walls. Beyond the tunnel, two half-naked guards were rubbing their bodies with a linen cloth soaked in a basin filled with water.
"It's fine, there's no need to rub it that clean. Get some sleep, we both have shifts early in the morning," said one of the guards.
"No, that won't do. When Blademaster Benack killed and tortured that slave, some of the blood got on my neck. It feels absolutely gross. If I don't wipe this off, I won't be able to sleep soundly... Heck, I might even get nightmares," said the other.
The first guard laughed and said, "Haha, who asked you to suck up to him so much by staying so close to him? I knew that nothing good would come of it, so I chose to watch from a distance. You should know that the blademaster has a weird temperament. Even if you get on his good side, you won't benefit much."
"It's not like I want to ask a lot of him. I only need him to get a word in for me. You know I've been serving in the royal defense army for seven years. I should've been promoted to a vice squad leader long ago, but that cursed company leader kept me from doing so to let his brother-in-law climb the ranks. But his brother-in-law is a bronze rank and has three years less experience than me. He doesn't qualify," complained the guard.
"Forget it, Stam, it's your fault for antagonizing the company leader in the past. Given how petty he is, he won't let you off that easy. I heard Suraid, the one who guards the main entrance, say that someone came over during the evening to look for that sword-obsessed punk. The company leader insisted that the punk had left when they asked to see him. But Suraid says that he didn't look like the sort to give up that easily, so he might come back with a noble in a day or two for an inspection. If you leak the news, the company leader will definitely be in trouble and become the scapegoat..."
"That doesn't sound like a good idea," Stam replied, "You know that the sword-obsessed punk got the attention of Blademaster Benack, but I just don't get it... Even though he's a three-star silver rank, his comprehension abilities are lacking and he isn't ruthless enough. He never deals a killing blow to the slaves he spars with. If he's so soft, there's no way he'll be able to grasp the essence of the sword..."
"Haha..." the first guard laughed, "You don't get it. What Blademaster Benack has his eyes on is the punk's family. He comes from the Peterson Merchant Guild, one of the big-seven. If the blademaster manages to be appointed as his swordsmanship instructor, he'll definitely be paid at least two or three thousand gold Fordes a year apart from other benefits.
"Think about it, the kid spends around 30 gold Fordes a day just to come here for a spar or two. If you add the tips he gives us, his monthly spending is easily higher than a thousand gold Fordes. It's his ability to spend that much without batting an eye that caught the blademaster's attention."
Lorist surged with joy. He finally had a lead on Els's location. In the distance, the two guards finished cleaning their bodies. Right after they entered the room behind them, Stam stepped out again and mumbled something along the lines of someone snoring too loudly as he headed for another room nearby.
When the place quieted down, Lorist snuck out of the tunnel for a quick glance and realized that he was at a barracks. There were at least 70 soldiers. Lorist walked up to Stam's room and entered it.
"Who's this?" mumbled the guard.
Even though the room was not illuminated, Lorist could roughly see some ten beds. At the moment, however, only Stam was in the room.
It seems that Drei's intel is accurate, there are only 200 guards left...
Without a sound, Lorist made his way to Stam's bed with his sword drawn and pressed on the guard's neck.
With great terror, Stam muttered, "Who-who are you? Wh-what do you want?"
Lorist said, "You don't need to know who I am. I just want to know where my young master is."
"Your young master? How would I know where he is? Are you sure you have the right person?" asked Stam.
"I recognize you, you're the one who opens the gates for my young master when he comes here to spar. I also recall that he's tipped you on occasion," said Lorist.
"Oh," said Stam.
Exhaling in relief, he said, "Friend, are you the Peterson Merchant Guild's guard for the young master? You've come to the right place, but I'm not the person who can help you. It's not something you can solve either. All you can do is have a noble or blademaster from the capital come over. Your young master is indeed here, but he's caught the eye of Blademaster Benack, who wants to take him as his disciple. Your master has been refusing stubbornly so far and its infuriated the blademaster.
He's locked him up in return."
"Then why did the company leader deny that my young master was here when the people from the guild came over earlier to ask about it?" asked Lorist with a hoarse voice.
"Hey, friend, that's none of my business. All I know is that Blademaster Benack has an odd temper. If he snaps and something happens to your master, the company leader will be able to push the blame elsewhere. If somebody dies over here, all we have to do to erase any trace of it is to toss the body into the magic beast cages. No evidence will be left for anybody to place any blame," said Stam.
Given how much he hated the company leader, he took the opportunity to badmouth his superior. He understood that a young master with a personal guard secretly protecting him definitely was not someone to be trifled with.
Perhaps, this is the end of that darned bastard, and my time will come soon.
"Get dressed and bring me to my young master. I need to be sure that he's safe," Lorist said as he tapped on Stam's face with his sword, "If you help me out, our guild will definitely reward you heavily. Here's the down payment."
With a glint, Lorist brought up a torch in his hand to brighten the room. When Stam recovered from the sudden flash of light, he saw a gleaming gold Forde note falling before him.
"You have two choices. Either you bring me to see my young master and be rewarded for it, or you refuse and be silenced. I can simply find another person who's willing to cooperate. There are more than 60 people here. I'm sure one of them will help me out," whispered Lorist in a rough voice.
Stam grit his teeth and held the note in his hand.
After checking its authenticity with the light from Lorist's torch, he kissed the note and said, "As the saying goes, 'men die for money'... I'll give you a tour, but you can't remain dressed like this. The others will notice."
Lorist pointed at the bed next to him where a set of gear lay.
"I've already made preparations. I'll look no different after putting this on. This bronze helmet also has a visor that's ideal for masking my face. We'll look just like any other patrol. All I need you to do is to bring me to my young master. I only need to know that he's alive and well."
Three Floors Underground
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The royal defense army's equipment was rather bare bones; they only had a bronze helmet, a bronze breastplate and leather pauldrons, faulds, bottoms, and wristguards.
The bronze helmet, in particular, had an ancient design; it reached down to the shoulders and had a T-shaped opening at the front for the eyes, nose, and mouth.
It was rumored that there was a copper mine somewhere on the archipelago. The pirates did not manage to find any other source of metals on the islands and, given the embargos levied on them by the other nations, King Lud I was not able to provide any metal armor for his troops during his reign. The suggestion to use refined bronze for their the armor emerged only after the king's death.
Decades had passed, but given that the kingdom never faced any wars in that time, and at worst had to deal with a few slave uprisings, their equipment had never improved despite eventually having the funds for it. In the end, under the guise of 'honoring the traditions of their ancestors', they chose to simply continue using their old equipment indefinitely.
Stam brought Lorist through a dim corridor as any patrolling soldier would. In Lorist's left hand was a bronze semi-circular shield, his right held a bronze-tipped pike. Those were the standard weapons of the royal defense army. Stam, on the other hand, wore no helmet. He only had a bronze-plated vest and a longsword dangling at his waist. He explained that, since he was a regular there, there was no need for him to dress up fully. He was also carrying the same pike and shield as Lorist.
The corridor's walls ahead had two lit torches, and beyond it, two pike-and-shield-wielding guards could be seen.
"Hey, brother Stam, didn't you go back to rest already? Why are you back here?" one of them asked when they saw the two approaching.
Stam pointed at the ceiling and said, "That bastard said that we have to pay extra attention to security since we're so understaffed. They've forced us to do another round of patrols..."
The two soldiers snickered, before the one who spoke up shook his head and said, "You're starting to get singled out by that company leader more and more often, brother Stam. Why don't you transfer to another company instead?"
Stam replied nonchalantly, "Let's have this discussion some other time. Changing companies will see me being the rookie for a couple of years again."
After taking a turn, two iron gates, one behind the other, could be seen. Four soldiers stood guard between the two. However, with Stam leading him, Lorist was able to pass by them unobstructed. After going through the two gates, Lorist realized that there was a stairway that headed deeper underground.
After descending another floor, they were greeted by another twin-gate setup with four soldiers stationed in the middle. Stam once again used the excuse of being forced to go on a patrol by his superior to bring Lorist across. Beyond that was an empty hall which Stam explained to be where the slave fighters would be rewarded. They were allowed to frolic with the prostitutes here. The slaves were kept locked up two floors further down.
Lorist held onto Stam and feigned anxiety as he asked, "What's going on? Why is my young master kept locked up here? Didn't you say it was only a house arrest of sorts?"
Stam shrugged, "It wasn't my call. It's not my fault your young master got on the bad side of Blademaster Benack. Originally, he was imprisoned upstairs, but when people from your guild came to ask about him, the blademaster instructed for your young master to be sent to the lowest floor to experience some suffering. Heck, I was the one who was assigned to bring him down here."
After passing through the empty hall, they arrived at yet another guarded twin gate, beyond which lay the stairs to the lower floor. The second basement was different from the first, however. The sides of the hall were barred into separate small cells. Each individual bar was as thick as a fist. Some of the cells were empty while silhouettes could be seen in others. They all seemed to be the slave fighters of the dueling grounds.
Ten fully-armed guards walked out of another corridor further down the hall. The leader was a little surprised to see Stam and Lorist. So, he came over to ask about the situation.
Stam used the same excuse as he pointed harshly at the ceiling, causing the leader and the rest of the guards to laugh at his misfortune.
"Stop it! As if I'm not unlucky enough already. I'm going to go down for a spin before finishing up this stupid old task. I really need to go get some sleep. Won't you guys go down with me for a look?" replied he.
The leader shook his head and said, "You go down yourself, I just got back from there. Also, Blademaster Benack is down there, so you better be careful not to piss him off."
"Oh?" Stam said with surprise, "What's the blademaster doing down here so late at night?"
"He's here for the sword-training kid, obviously. I heard that someone came to look for him earlier today. The blademaster must be anxious, so he's back here to force the kid to take an oath to be his disciple," said the leader.
Stam looked at Lorist, only to see him nod slightly.
"Whatever, it's none of my business. I'm only going down there to finish up my patrol. What happens down there is none of my business," said he finally.
When they got down to the third basement, Lorist found it was far smaller than the floor above. Stam explained, "The third basement of the Dueling Grounds is used to keep the most dangerous or disobedient slaves. The security here is also the tightest. Friend, I didn't know that the blademaster would be here tonight. If you have a chance, try to convince your young master to submit for now to preserve his life.
"Blademaster Benack is one of the two blademasters guarding the dueling grounds. Not only does he have a weird temperament, he's also lustful, greedy, cruel, and petty. There was once a regiment leader that got into some kind of disagreement with him... It ended with the blademaster killing a hundred slave fighters to vent his frustration. He then reported that the slaves were revolting to justify his senseless killing and blamed the regiment leader for inadequate management. The poor man was demoted and transferred to the regiment manning the walls.
"So, whatever you do, don't be reckless in front of Blademaster Benack. Otherwise, I'm afraid you won't be able to leave here alive. If something bad happens to your young master, please endure it for now. Send some word back to your clan so that they'll send some blademasters here. If you do that, you'll be able to ask the king to sanction a duel between your blademasters and Blademaster Benack. That's the best way you can resolve the situation. Do you understand?"
Lorist nodded before Stam felt assured enough to continue leading the way.
Lorist could see a thick black rope dangling in the corner. Passing his pike in his right hand to his left, Lorist took a few steps back and took out a triple-edged blade from his waist. Infusing it with internal energy, Lorist swung his right hand lightly, throwing the blade right up and nailing it flat at the ceiling.
He then moved the pike back to his right hand before catching up to Stam, who did not appear to have noticed what Lorist had just done.
That was already the fifth triple-edged blade Lorist used to nail the black ropes unmoving on the way. Originally, Lorist did not know what the rope was for; he only realized that it was connected to a small alarm bell after he passed through the twin gate on the first basement.
If some incident happened at any of the basement floors, patrolling soldiers only had to pull on the black rope to sound the alarm on all the floors. That way, they could wait for reinforcements to hold back any slave violence or respond to any accidents swiftly.
Stam was correct about the third basement being heavily defended. Apart from the four guards at the twin gate near the stairs, there was another twin-gate crossing point further ahead also stationed with four guards. Only after they passed through the second crossing point was Lorist able to hear some echoes of conversation.
The third basement was different from the second basement in that the corridor between the two rows of cells at the side was rather wide. There were also a few rectangular-shaped pillars along the corridor. The basement was illuminated mainly by the two torches which were hung on the pillar in the middle. As they approached the center, they could hear a rough voice saying something in a mocking tone.
"Who goes there?" said a high-pitched voice. It was apparent that the speaker had heard Lorist and Stam's footsteps as they approached.
"Sir Blademaster, it is I, Stam. We've received orders from the company leader to patrol the area," announced Stam as he saluted.
Lorist mimicked his salut.
"What's wrong with Pabola? Is there really a need to be that thorough with patrols?" the man with the high-pitched voice complained.
It appeared that Pabola was the company leader's name.
"Sir Benack, I also didn't understand why the company leader had me patrol once more, but he said we should be extra careful today since the regiment is away, leaving only two squads of troops behind here. So, he said there was a need for increased security," explained Stam.
"Whatever, come over you two. You're just in time to help me out with something," the blademaster said with his sharp voice.
As Lorist moved forward along with Stam, he felt himself getting more agitated the more steps he took. He was able to see the two cells in which his soldiers and guards were kept. While he could not remember every one of their names, he did think their faces looked familiar.
By the time he arrived at the brightest part, he saw Els, Charade, Jim, Tok, Torin and some other household knights.
Charade was half naked with only short and tattered trousers to wear. His chubby figure was no more, replaced with a toughened-up build bereft of fat. Bloody lacerations could be seen all over his exposed torso. Both his hands and legs were in chains. At that moment, he was seated cross-legged right in front of the thick iron bars, staring at the glamorously-dressed old man in the middle of the hall.
Jim was seated next to Charade. However, there was a dirty bandage wrapped around his body and looked to be recovering from his injuries. Further away was Tok, Torin, and the rest.
Els, on the other hand, was in a cell adjacent to Charade's, but he was still properly dressed and was not chained up like the rest. He was currently seated with his back against the moss-covered walls. He didn't bother to look at the old fancily-dressed man in the hall.
Lorist gave the old fellow a look. The man was Blademaster Benack. Under the illumination of the torchlight, his face looked exceedingly insidious.
"Kid, I'll give you one more chance. As long as you sign this agreement and put down your fingerprint to take me as your master, I'll make sure that you end up as a gold-rank within three years. Otherwise, you can forget about leaving the dueling grounds..." said the blademaster with his raspy, high-pitched voice.
Els spat on the ground without bothering to turn his head to look the blademaster in the eye.
"Hahahaha, that kid made the right choice. Gigantic rat, you'll only be able to take him as your disciple in your dreams. Breaking through to the gold rank within three years? Hah! He would be easily able to reach that rank without your tutelage! And to think that you want him to pay you 2000 gold Fordes annually for your teachings... You're seriously blinded by money!" exclaimed a rough voice from behind Blademaster Benack.
Oh, Blademaster Benack does indeed look a little like a giant rat, given his oddly-shaped eyes...
Turning back to look, Lorist saw five to six other slaves laughing in the cell at the opposite side where the sound originated from. The chains that bound them seemed much thicker than those that bound Charade.
Blademaster Benack puffed angrily and forced himself to ignore what the slaves had said before continuing to address Els, "Kid, are you really going to be that stubborn? Fine, I will let a few of your friends here come out to die by my blade. I'll see whether you'll agree to it after I skin them alive!"
Lorist's gaze cooled as the blademaster pointed at the cell Charade and the others were in when he made his threat.
The voice from the opposite cell resounded again, "Big ol' rat, shame on you for being a blademaster who only picks on iron and silver ranks! If you dare, let me out. I'm only a gold rank, unlike brother Shuss here, let's see you take me on if you dare! Stupid rat-faced bastard!"
Benack turned back and scolded angrily, "What does this have to do with you lot? Do you want a beating?"
The slave fighters laughed mockingly and echoed, "Yeah, we'd love one! Come in, stupid rat! We're itching to be beaten!"
The blademaster was so mad that he almost seemed to fume. However, he was not able to offer any rebuttal, so he turned back to Lorist and Stam and barked, "Did you two not hear me? Get the guards to pass me the silver keys!"
Stam turned back and said, "Roger, I'm on it," before taking Lorist with him.
Along the way, Stam said, "Darn, we're rather unlucky tonight. Blademaster Benack will be torturing the slaves to vent again... We will have to clean up after him later, and trust me, it's the grossest thing you'll ever see."
Lorist asked curiously, "Who were those people who mocked the blademaster just now? Why doesn't he just vent on them?"
"Hehe, that big rat won't dare-- Oh, I meant the blademaster. Those are gold-ranked slave fighters. The one who spoke out first was a blademaster called Shuss. He's practically a living legend in the dueling grounds. Seventeen years ago, he managed to break through to become a blademaster during one of his fights. Even though the royal family attempted to recruit him, he simply refused. It's said that he was still kept at the gueling grounds so that the rank 3 blademaster of the royal family can spar and train with him," said Stam.
"But apart from Shuss, aren't the others just gold ranks? Why doesn't Benack go teach them a lesson?" asked Lorist.
Stam angled his nose up high and said, "Hmph! Would he dare? The first time Blademaster Benack wanted to punish a gold-ranked slave fighter, he ended up injured heavily himself. Even though he was rescued in the end, he lost his right ear from the gold-ranked fighter's bite. In terms of swordsmanship, Blademaster Benack definitely had the advantage. However, he still wasn't a match for slave fighters who survive on a fight-to-fight basis. Ever since then, Blademaster Benack only dares to pick on iron and silver ranks."
The two had arrived at the heavily-guarded twin gate by the time he finished. Stam told the guards that the blademaster had requested for the silver key and they handed it to him promptly, but they did not fail to add that they could not leave because they had to stand guard over there.
"Ptooey! I know you shits just don't want to help with the cleanup. Your third-rate act doesn't fool me!" snapped Stam before he took the key and turned back with Lorist.
"Go, open the three cells over there and bring a few of them to me," Blademaster Benack said while pointing at Charade, before he turned to Els and said, "Kid, let me show you how it's really done. Your stupid sparring sessions are only filled with circling around him without ever aiming for the killing blow... I'll show you what it means to deal a fatal strike! After my performance, you'll definitely be impressed by my skills and take me as master..."
"Hahaha, far from learning swordsmanship from you, I think you'll teach us how to borrow like a rat far better! That's what you're really meant for!" said a voice from the opposite cells.
The blademaster took a few deep breaths to suppress the rage in his mind before he turned to Lorist and Stam and said, "What's going on? Do what I say quick!"
Stam gulped audibly before he stammered as he pointed at Charade's cell, "Th-that time t-tehe supervisor su-suspected that those slave fi-fighters have diff-ferent statuses from normal people... Didn't h-he ask us to check up o-on their backgrounds properly first? Sir Blademaster, i-if you bring them out and kill them just like t-that, it won't be too app-propriate..."
"Background check my arse!" the blademaster exclaimed angrily, "They are going to die in the dueling grounds in a few days anyway! It's only a matter of time before he dies, so just do what I say!"
"A-alright," said Stam as he tugged on Lorist, beckoning him to head towards the cell.
Taking Action
Enjoy the fifth and last release of the week! Chapters will resume updating on next Wednesday because next Tuesday is test day for me. Cya then!
Charade, Jim, and Tok were dragged out of their cells. Charade stood in the middle. He did not say a word and merely stared coldly at Blademaster Benack with eyes full of scorn. Jim wanted to stand in front of Charade but was stopped by him. Tok was already cursing. Being an ex-pirate, his choice of expletives was not of the mild variety; from the moment the cell was opened to when he was brought out, Tok had already 'laid' with more than 17 generations of the blademaster's female descendants, and he was already making his way to the 18th.
The Norton knights and soldiers kept within the third basement all cussed and jeered, banging at the iron bars behind which they were locked.
Els jumped around angrily and demanded that Blademaster Benack spare them, saying that he would consider taking him as his master should that be the case.
"Shut up!" cried Charade to Els.
His voice carried a hint of scolding, much to Stam's surprise.
Charade pointed at the blademaster and yelled, "Are you really going to take that darned big rat as your master? You're going to embarrass the whole of the house! Look at that pathetic excuse of a man! Do you think you'll be able to live this shame down even with the rest of your life? The moment you take him as your master, your life is over! I don't care if I die, but you must never take this kind of shame upon yourself! When the house's forces arrive, I trust that our lord will not let this stinking rat off and will exterminate all his kin alongside him!"
The reason Charade was so emotional was because apprenticeship was a huge deal on the continent. The relationship between a master and apprentice was far closer and significant than how it was in Lorist's past life. Choosing a master was a serious deal filled with lasting implications. The apprentice had to see his master as a second parent. They were obligated to obey their master for the rest of their lives, and serve in some capacity to further their goals.
In the case of the blademaster forcing Els to be apprenticed to him, the moment Els signed the agreement he would have to look at the rat-like Benack as his master. Not only would he have to pay his dues for the guidance, but he also had to abide by his master's every whim. Blademaster Benack could have Els solve every one of his problems no matter how trivial.
Should Els go back on his agreement, the blademaster can use the contract against him and spread word of his disobedience. No one would care why Els took the man on as his master. It would only matter that he was indeed the blademaster's apprentice, and he would receive appropriate criticism for his bad behavior. It would be a lifelong stain on his reputation.
Even the Peterson Merchant Guild, with which he claimed affiliation, would have their reputation sullied. The other reason Blademaster Benack wanted to forcefully take Els as his apprentice was because he wanted to be affiliated with one of the largest guilds in the Union.
At that moment, Els's face was already covered with tears. He cried wildly.
"You freaking big rat, I beg you to spare them! As long as you do so, I'll give you all the money you could ever want! Ten thousand? How about twenty?! If you kill them, I swear that I will use the cruelest methods to put you and your family to death, ending your line once and for all! Mark my words!"
"Oh, is that so?" Blademaster Benack mused with his face flush with anger, before his expression turned calm as he said, "Since you're not willing to take me as your master, I will kill these three filthy slaves in front of you. If you do decide to sign this agreement, I'll agree to give them a swift and painless death."
Everyone present could hear the venom infused in the blademaster's threats. Even his high-pitched voice turned deep and dark as he uttered them. He had already made up his mind to kill off Charade and the other two no matter what, given how they berated him and stopped Els from agreeing to sign the agreement despite being only silver ranks.
Hmph, stupid filth who's not even a gold rank... Since you dare to behave like that in my presence, I will make sure that you die in the most excruciating way possible. I'll show you what horrors a blademaster like me is capable of.
Blademaster Benack drew his sword. Under the illumination of the torches, the blade glowed subtly like the reflection of the moon in calm water, an indication that the sword was of good make.
"Very well... You filthy slaves... Did it feel good to berate me? If you kneel and prostrate yourself to that punk and ask him to take me as master, you'll be graced with a painless death," said the blademaster with his sword pointed at the three.
"Ptooey!"
All three of them spat on the ground in at the same time, rousing yet another round of mocking laughs in the opposite cell.
"Big rat, aren't you a blademaster? If you dare, remove their chains and give them a weapon to fight you fairly! You're a freaking blademaster and they're only three unarmed silver ranks locked up in chains. If you kill them as is, it'll be nothing but shameless slaughter. Give them weapons and remove their chains to give them a warrior's death!" said a rough voice.
The gold-ranked slaves began to chant, "Give them weapons, remove their chains!" incessantly.
The blademaster deafened himself to the chants and walked over, raising his sword and slashing down savagely.
The flash of the blade was akin to lightning. The strike seemed slow but was horridly fast. It carried with it a seething vibe of poison. The trajectory it traced would split Charade's face in half, severing his lower jaw from the rest of his head and revealing his tongue if it hit. With another loop, the blademaster could easily cut off the tongue itself.
Charade shut his eyes and rushed straight towards the incoming strike. Jim and Tok, on the other hand, leaped forward as well, dragging their chains with them.
The rough voice resounded again angrily, "Big rat, you better not give me a chance in the future. Otherwise, I'll definitely skin you alive and remove every gram flesh from your body..."
Clang! A bronze pike suddenly appeared, blocking the longsword strike. Even though the pike was cut clean in half as a result, the longsword was deflected to the side. Blademaster Benack didn't expect a guard from the royal defense army would actually manage to parry his longsword. During his moment of stupor, he saw a semi-circular bronze shield smashing towards his face.
"What the heck are you doing?!" roared the blademaster in rage. With a sweep of his legs, he managed to avoid the shield bash. But he did not predict that Lorist would be right in front of him. Perhaps, he had moved to face Lorist inadvertently while avoiding the strike.
Lorist lowered his head and headbutted the blademaster right away with his bronze helmet. The latter stumbled and fell to the ground. A massive lump quickly formed on his forehead. There were even a few cuts all over his face. Even a blademaster would not be able to resist having his unprotected face smashed in with a bronze helmet.
Stretching out his hand, Lorist grabbed onto the blademaster's outstretched wrist and gave it a harsh twist. The sword the hand was holding fell and Lorist caught it. With a few casual slashes, he severed Blademaster Benack's arm and leg, causing him to fall unconscious from all the screaming in pain.
The others in the basement looked on in absolute silence. They never thought that such a complete reversal would occur in those few moments. It was as if time itself stopped flowing.
Els continued to stare with tears all over his face and his mouth agape. Charade maintained his forward-rushing posture with a shocked expression. Jim and Tok were already prepared to take the strike for Charade, but the scene stopped them in their tracks completely.
The gold-ranked slaves in the other cells stared wide-mouthed, seemingly unwilling to believe that a mere foot soldier was able to so easily take out Blademaster Benack without any traces of using battleforce.
Stam was the first one to snap out of his stupor. Shivering all over, he turned tail to run. Lorist gave the broken pike a light kick and caused it to pierce through Stam's undefended back. THe poor man fell face first into the ground and didn't move again.
"Good thing I arrived just in time to save you lot," said Lorist with a smile as he removed his helmet. Given the force he used during the headbutt, Lorist's forehead was slightly bruised as well.
"Mi-milord..." Charade, Jim, and Tok all knelt in relief, having survived in the face of certain death.
The imprisoned soldiers and knights of House Norton began to chant 'Milord' in the same fashion.
Lorist moved his index finger to his mouth and hushed them.
"Shut up! I still need to bust you guys out of here! Stop making so much noise!"
He moved to help the three to their feet and hugged all of them tightly.
"It must've been tough on you guys. I'm proud that our house has such unrelenting and strong-willed knights."
Tok mumbled, "Milord, I'm still not a household knight yet..."
"Shut up!" Lorist exclaimed, "If I say you are, then you are! See that corpse over there? Drag him over here and take the keys to the cells."
Charade laughed and said, "Tok, Milord means to say that he's accepted you as one of his household knights. He'll give you the badge and admittance gift after we escape."
"Oh," said Tok before he turned to loot Stam's corpse.
"Come back here," Lorist called out. With a flash of his sword, he cut off the chains binding them.
Els was the first one to be let out. He kneeled right away in front of Lorist while giving himself two harsh slaps on the face.
"Milord, it's all my fault... I almost caused Charade and the others to lose their lives..."
Lorist helped him up.
"What's your problem? There's no need to slap yourself like that. This is not your fault. It's all because of that greedy rat. He's the one that tried to prey on you."
Lorist pointed at the fallen blademaster who had just regained awareness and was screaming in pain again. He clutched the stump of his arm with his other hand. Els leapt over to him and gave him a harsh walloping before finally stomping down on the blademaster's chest. The man fainted once more.
"How many of those here are men of our house?" asked Lorist.
"Milord, there are 257 remaining. That stupid rat killed five just this evening alone," said Charade hatefully.
"Milord, avenge us! We had 1300-odd people when we were first imprisoned!" called out one soldier kneeling with tears all over his face.
Lorist covered his face and tried not to let his own tears flow.
"Let's be patient. Our forces have already conquered Nupite and will soon advance to the capital. As long as they are subjects of the Hanayabarta kingdom, they will not escape my wrath. I want a few of you to come here and wake this blademaster up with your piss. After that, I'll skin him slowly so that he doesn't enjoy the luxury of a swift death," said Lorist.
Blademaster Benack cried out in agony as Els brought a few soldiers and broke his bones with the chains that previously bound them. Every time the blademaster fainted from the pain, they would piss on his face to wake him up. His cries in the basement prison sent chills down the onlookers' spines.
Half an hour later, Blademaster Benack finally breathed his final breath. His corpse had already become an unrecognizable mess of pound meat. By then, the Norton soldiers had all been released and they were resting.
"Milord, how are we going to make it out?" asked Charade.
"I haven't given it much thought. Well, we could always slaughter our way out," replied Lorist.
"No darn way!" Charade cried out while giving himself a smack in the forehead, "You were so reckless that you didn't even have a plan in mind before you acted?"
Lorist said casually, "Doesn't this count as an emergency? You were about to lose your lives, you know. I can't stay my hand at that."
"But right now, we're mostly unarmed and not in prime condition. How will we bust our way out by force?" complained Charade.
"Why don't we just make the iron bars into makeshift pikes by sharpening the point? That way, we'll at least be armed," said Lorist as he looked at the iron bars.
"It's pointless, milord. The material is the same as those of our chains. They don't conduct battleforce and we won't be able to use them as weapons," replied Charade with a bitter smile.
"Hey, kid, come here and let us out. We'll be able to help you," said the man with the hoarse voice.
"Oh, milord, let me introduce you to him. That over there is Brother Shuss, a blademaster. He showed us the ropes when we first arrived. I need to thank him for it," said Charade as he headed for the man's cell.
The slave was an old man of abnormally large stature with a determined gaze. Wounds from battles long past decorated his body all over. The chains that bound him were at least three times thicker than those that bound Charade. However, Charade could not find the key to his cell, which was not something to be surprised about, since the keys Stam took were silver. Lorist remembered seeing another set of bronze keys at the twin gates which were probably those used to open the other set of cells.
Lorist infused Blademaster Benack's sword with his internal energy and cut off the thick bars of the cells. When Shuss emerged from it, Lorist's longsword flashed past before the chains binding him fell to the ground with loud clatters.
"Magnificent swordsmanship!" praised Shuss with a thumbs up.
Lorist looked at the other four gold-ranked slaves' yearning expressions and said apologetically, "Just wait here for a moment. I will go get the keys from the guards to let you out. Cutting the bars will expend too much of my energy."
"Milord, won't you alert the guards that way?" asked Els.
"Don't worry, those guards know that the big rat frequently tortures you lot to death. That's why they are not willing to approach this hall in the slightest. We can use the excuse of getting cleaning supplies to approach and kill them. After that, you guys will put on their equipment and pretend to be guards, understood?" asked Lorist.
"Alright, Milord," replied Els.
Secret Path
Here's the first release of the week! Enjoy the read.
The four guards at the entrance looked at Lorist walk over as he mumbled.
"Hey, what's wrong?" asked one of them.
"Don't ask, it's far too disgusting... Blademaster Benack is too cruel," Lorist said as he knocked his wrist on the bars of the gates, "Stam wanted me to get some cleaning tools. We'll have to move some corpses later as well."
One of the guards said as he opened the gate, "Are you an idiot? Why would you do it yourself? Just get a slave down here to do it! After all, the corpses will be fed to the magic beasts anyway."
Lorist nodded.
"That was what I thought should be done as well, but Stam told me to hurry up because the blademaster doesn't have the patience for me to go all the way up to get one."
Another guard chuckled and said, "Well, sucks to be the two of you, bumping into the blademaster when he's in a bad mood. Oh, and, how many died just now? The cries I heard sounded rather terrifying. The slaves must have died horribly."
With the door opened, Lorist walked through to a good spot, snickered, and replied, "Four."
With a flash of his sword, the four guards lost their lives. Four strokes, each making an opening on a guard's throat. They fell one after another without a sound, slipping into death's cold embrace in silence. Waving his hands, Els and eight other household soldiers rushed over and stripped the corpses bare. Three soldiers with physiques similar to the guards put on the uniforms.
The remaining soldiers dragged the four corpses back to where they came from. Lorist looked at Els and the other three and nodded with satisfaction.
"Very well, fortunately, the enemy loadout includes an old-style bronze helmet that hides faces well enough. If the enemy comes and says they want to go in to check because they don't recognize you, let them. Only kill them if you have. We don't want them to report the situation and call for reinforcements after all."
Els nodded and said, "Understood, Milord."
Lorist took the silver key and left. With Els watching over the situation, he was not worried in the slightest. After all, most of the royal defense army's soldiers were of the bronze rank. Only leaders had to be silver ranked and above. On that front, they were not that much different from the Nortons' forces. Even if a group of ten patrol soldiers came over to check, with a three-star-silver-rank like Els and a few other iron ranks with him, there would be no issue.
"Thanks. He's called Jades, and this here is Messen. Over here we have Sendhank and Plom. All four of them are gold ranks, so they're locked up here with me. How should I address you, by the way?" asked the blademaster, Shuss, as he received the keys and opened the cells to release the four gold-ranked fighters.
"I'm Norton Lorist. Just call me Locke," said Lorist before he nodded to the gold-ranked fighters.
"Our lord is the head of the Family of the Raging Bear of The Northlands. He's a count," said Charade as he stepped forward to introduce Lorist formally.
However, Blademaster Shuss did not really care for Lorist's title and casually said, "Fine, we'll either call you Lord Locke or Lord Count. Jades, Plom, here are the keys. Release the other fellows at the back."
"Please, call me Locke. My friends all refer to me as such," Lorist said.
He eyed Jades and Plom as they disappeared into the darkness beyond the room they were in.
"Are there more?" asked he.
"Yes. The third basement was originally only for keeping silver-ranked slave fighters. There are 27 others deeper inside. Most of your men were kept over here and were made examples for the rest of them to follow, mainly because their loyalty and solidarity were too strong," said Shuss.
"Milord, did you mention that our forces have already occupied Nupite?" asked Charade.
"That's right," Lorist said, before he gave a brief description of the current conflict, "I snuck into the capital because I was worried about you guys. Fortunately, I got here in time. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to meet you guys again for the rest of my life."
"Milord, you shouldn't have risked your safety like this. While it's not a huge deal if we die, you are different! You have to lead the house. If some misfortune befalls you, our rescue will have been in vain," said Jim, as he, Tok, Klinbo and the other household knights teared up.
"That's right, Milord. You shouldn't have taken that kind of risk," said Charade.
"Bullshit. Even though I'm the leader of the house, you guys are my friends and brothers. It's because you fought for the house that you ended up in captivity. Would I still be human if I left you to rot like this?" asked Lorist.
"Nicely said. Naturally, you acted on what you said as well. Nobles like you are rare these days. What are you going to do next, Lord Locke?" asked Blademaster Shuss.
"Well," Lorist stroked his head, "I didn't really come here with a plan. Originally, I only wanted to check this place out to get a grasp of the area. All I wanted was to see them safe. But the urgency of the situation forced my hand. If it's only one or two people, perhaps I can find a way to bring them out. But I really have no clue what I should do with so many people. At worst, we'll have to fight our way out. It's a possible feat given that the royal defense army was just deployed and the capital is not as well defended as usual. But I can't say how many will survive."
Shuss stared into Lorist's eyes. He became curious about what gave Lorist the confidence to say that he would be able to fight his way out of the capital.
"If all you want is to leave the capital, we don't even have to fight, I know a secret path. Follow me," said he finally.
Shuss turned and walked away. Lorist and his companions waited where they were.
The sound of metal clattering on stone could be heard from the other side of the dark tunnel. Soon a group of slaves, led by the three gold-ranks, emerged. They greeted Lorist and the blademaster as they passed.
Shuss brought them to the innermost cell of the floor and stood there for a good moment before having the gold rank called Jades to open the cell. Once inside, he moved aside an old wooden bed and some rotting dried grass and tapped on the stone floor. He removed one of the tiles. A small hole became visible beneath. It was just large enough for a person to fit through.
"Old Jones spent 14 years digging this tunnel, but just as he was about to escape, he lost his life on the dueling grounds," he said wistfully, "That day, he even told me excitedly that he would sneak two pieces of black bread with him before he escapes during the night. Who knew that he would be pitted against two swordtooth tigers on his own that very day."
If a slave fighter managed to win a fight, they would be awarded a luxurious meal that included roast meat, potatoes, black bread and some cheap liquor. They were even allowed to take two extra pieces of black bread for supper.
"Where does this tunnel head?" asked Lorist.
"Even I don't know the answer to that," the blademaster said, shaking his head, "Jones only told me that he dug until he reached a waterway and left the last piece of rock untouched. He just had to remove the last rock to escape. But since his death two years ago, I never managed to enter his cell, so I haven't been able to check it out myself."
When he finished, the blademaster rummaged around the old wooden bed and found a small piece of metal and a thumb-length wire. "These were his tools. This here is a piece of metal broken off a sword Jones found and kept. This wire here he got from a broken basket. The most important feature about these two items is that they can both conduct battleforce and allow a blade glow to form. Old Jones relied on only these two items to dig that tunnel over 14 years."
Lorist could not help but recall a certain classic Hollywood film he watched in his past life, titled Shaw-something Redemption. The protagonist was sentenced to serve a very long jail sentence and managed to use an iron spoon to dig a tunnel over the course of ten-odd years to finally obtain freedom. Jones was quite similar in that regard, save for his ill fortune.
"Milord, let's go down there to check," said Tok, before he jumped right inside.
"Hey, wait a second," Charade said before he passed the torch to Tok, "Take this torch down there so that we can see better."
After around half an hour, Tok reemerged from the hole covered with mud.
"Milord, this path is not that long, only around 15 meters deep. The only thing is it's a little too narrow. I wasn't able to twist my body around or breathe properly but there is a bit more space near the stone wall at the end. I knocked apart two larger rocks and walked towards where there was an air current and saw the exit. It's gated with iron bars at least as thick as a bowl."
Tok gestured to show the width of the bars and said after some hesitance, "After looking around, I found the exit of the waterway had two towers to its left and right around 50 meters away. A huge wall connected those two towers. If we escape through the waterway, we'll be detected easily by people on that tower. We won't be able to retaliate if they attack us with crossbows or other ranged weaponry."
Tok knelt down and drew two semi-circles and two circles at the two ends to denote the two towers. At the center of the indented side of the inner semi-circle was a dot that represented the waterway exit.
"What about the other waterway? Where does that head?" asked Charade.
"I didn't go there so I don't know. I only know that it leads pretty far away, and I didn't want to make you worry by staying down there for too long," said Tok, shaking his head.
"You don't need to go all the way to the end just to find out. I know where that leads," Blademaster Shuss said, "I recall one slave fighter said it leads to the ring road. That path is actually a huge sewer. As storms around the Hanayabarta archipelago typically last two to three days, the capital built these waterways to help with the irrigation and avoid flooding. There are four city sectors with one such waterway underground. Every month on the 10th, some guards would bring us to clear up the waterways. That fighter knew that because he used to be one of those slaves as well. He was sent to the dueling grounds because he got into a fight with a slave manager. Shame he only lasted three rounds before dying."
"What do we do now, Milord?" asked Charade.
Lorist considered his options. Even though he would be able to escape the capital safely through the waterway, he had to free more than 200 men, not just a few. It would take them at least three hours to make it out and they were all tired and hungry to boot. According to Charade, they only got a meal of gruel for the whole day when the dueling grounds were closed. While seeing Lorist come to their rescue did improve their mood a bit, that would probably not be able to last them the whole journey out.
Additionally, according to Tok's findings, escaping the waterway was no easy task either. The guards on the towers would surely notice that many people coming through the waterway. Without any weapons, it would only end badly for them. While Lorist did want to help them escape, he did not want to lead them to their deaths.
Even if he did manage to kill the enemies on the towers and wall first before the rest escaped, it still was not going to end well. While Lorist did not consider the guards a threat to him, they were doubtlessly on high alert and his ascent up the walls would alarm all of them. As long as the enemy sent a number of blademasters to hold Lorist down while others chased Charade and the rest down, the unarmed household knights would be unable to fight back. There was no way Lorist could save everyone, regardless of how strong he was.
Lorist was in a dilemma and was not able to come up with a resolution for a good while as he stroked his chin in thought.
"Lord Locke, I heard you mention that the royal defense army has mobilized this morning. Do you know how many guards they have left at the dueling grounds?" asked Blademaster Shuss, knocking Lorist off his train of thought.
"Hmm, I believe there should be around two hundred of them. Roughly two squads" replied Lorist.
"That's wonderful. Then, Lord Locke, can you lend us a couple of weapons? I want to rescue the other slave fighters on the upper basement and conquer the first basement as soon as we can," said Blademaster Shuss.
"Oh?" Lorist mused, not knowing what the blademaster intended to achieve.
"Here's the plan," Blademaster Shuss said after seeing Lorist's troubled expression, "Actually, the 200 royal defense army guards you mentioned are only responsible for the patrols and supervision. There are another one or two hundred instructors and supervisors here. They are the ones who pose a real threat to us. Another rank 2 blademaster, Jiluet, is also among them.
"However, there is only one entrance to where we are locked up. If we strike fast and seal off the sole entrance to stop the instructors and supervisors as well as the blademaster from barging in, we'll have enough time to plan our departure."
"Then, do you know where the pantry and armory are?" asked Lorist.
"They're over there as well," the blademaster said as he knelt down and drew an oval on the ground with the mud on his finger, "Lord, this here is the dueling grounds. The prison for us slave fighters is located a little bit to the right. It's where the magic beasts are kept as well. As for the instructors and supervisors, their dorm is to the left, alongside the pantry and armory. Every morning, some slaves would be sent to collect some food to feed those of us down here. Only after we have our meals will the instructors bring us out for different kinds of training."
"I see. Blademaster Shuss, how do you compare to that rank 2 blademaster? Is the gap wide?"
"Well, usually I would be able to fight on even grounds with him. Perhaps, I might even win if I fight desperately enough, but I definitely wouldn't be able to walk away with the victory without any damage. There are ten other gold-ranked instructors and I definitely won't be able to handle them if they come at me at the same time. Don't think that Jades and Messen will be able to hold their ground either. Despite being gold ranks, they have been underfed and chained up like this for far too long. We'll definitely lose if they fight desperately enough. That's the reason I suggested fighting our way up and occupying the entrance while the guards' numbers are low to buy us some time," explained the blademaster concisely.
Since that's the case, why shouldn't I occupy the dueling grounds? thought Lorist, before an idea suddenly surfaced in his mind, When the enemy is unprepared, we'll deal with the 200-odd guards here first before finishing off the gold-ranked instructors, supervisors and rank 2 blademaster while we're at it. Wouldn't this give my soldiers enough time to rest and recover? At the same time, we can have the underground tunnel widened for ease of passage and arm ourselves with the most basic armaments. Only after that and some food and rest will we stand a chance at escaping...
"I have an idea," began Lorist...
Trap
Here's the second release of a busy week for all of us involved. Sorry for it being slightly off schedule!
Blademaster Jiluet had a grim expression. He brought his two attendants Keba and Taxiwa as he followed one of the guards, Locke, down to the prison where the slaves were kept.
Nobody would be in a pleasant mood if they had to head out just as they were preparing for some pleasant times with their female slaves after a bath. The moment Locke mumbled in fear and reported the situation to the blademaster, Jiluet was so pissed that he smashed the wine-filled cup in his hand.
Ridiculous! thought the blademaster.
Even though Blademaster Benack was a rank 1 blademaster who had relied on precious medicines and supplements to attain his current strength, he was still not someone to be lightly trifled with. While it was understandable that he might not be able to fight against a desperate gold-ranked slave fighter, being defeated by three mere silver ranks and held hostage was out of this world.
Is he really sick of living?
While Blademaster Jiluet was enraged beyond comprehension, he still put on his clothes and followed the guard down to the third basement with his two attendants hurriedly. As a rank 2 blademaster assigned to watch the dueling grounds, it was his responsibility to keep the slaves under control. At the very least, Blademaster Jiluet was not someone who would skimp out on his duties for no good reason.
He had already crossed Benack off as deceased or non-functional in his mind. No matter how the situation turned out, Blademaster Benack would have to leave the dueling grounds, even if he was some distant relative of the king. Blademaster Jiluet did not wish in the slightest to clean up after Benack again.
While the Hanayabarta kingdom had many blademasters, only four served the royal family. They were rank 3 blademaster and swordsmanship instructor to King Lud III, Locksy Kabia, rank 2 blademaster Jiluet, and two other rank 1 blademasters, Viscount Sakri, leader of the guards that kept order in the capital, and Blademaster Benack who had relied on precious medicines to train.
Jiluet had always looked down on Benack because of the latter's reliance on outside sources to improve. Usually, it meant that the person in question would not be able to improve much further. Benack would stay a rank 1 blademaster for the rest of his life and would always be inferior to those of the same rank that broke through naturally.
The reason Benack, a relative of the king, was stationed at the dueling grounds, was that the king wanted him to use this chance to train his swordsmanship with the slaves so that he could be of some actual use. It was a shame that the king's effort was wasted. During Benack's first duel with a two-star-gold-ranked slave fighter, while he did manage to wound his opponent heavily, he had his ear bitten off when the slave finally managed to lock him down in close combat.
In the end, the gold-ranked slave was cut into mincemeat and fed to the magic beasts. However, Blademaster Benack, who had barely escaped with his life, never dared to use gold-ranked slaves for training ever again. He only sparred against silver or iron ranks to bolster his confidence. Jiluet had warned him before that training against someone of vastly inferior abilities was of no aid to one's swordsmanship, but Benack did not care about his advice at all and tortured the low-ranked slave fighters to death to satisfy his twisted desires.
Now that something like this happened, Benack would no longer be able to stay at the dueling grounds, even if he is shameless enough to want to, thought Jiluet gleefully.
After all, the dueling grounds used to be 'ruled' by him completely. While the arrival of a relative of the king was not a real threat to his position, he felt that the addition of another blademaster was a troublesome thing. This was especially the case with the current situation where he ended up having to clean up after the bastard.
It seemed that the two squads of soldiers had all been put on alert; there were more than 20 of them fully-armed standing at the entrance of the basement. They paid their respects to the blademaster as he arrived.
Jiluet stopped at the entrance and asked, "Where's your company leader, Pabola?"
The leader of the guards gave Locke a confused look before he replied, "I don't know. He should be down there. The only order I received was to watch the entrance and make sure nobody unrelated to this enters."
Not the slightest bit suspicious, Jiluet marched through the entrance after acknowledging the response.
The first basement was still in good order, but many of the slave servants had been roused from their sleep, standing at the sides of the halls as they chattered.
The second basement, on the other hand, was much rowdier. Many of the slave fighters knocked on their cell bars and cursed and shouted loudly. More than a hundred royal defense army guards used their whips to lash out against some of the slaves. Cries of pains, curses, and more whip cracks sounded out in response. The atmosphere sounded almost like a marketplace. Except in this marketplace, it wasn't wares that were being sold, but pain, agony, and suffering.
Jiluet snorted with dissatisfaction at the scene, but he was far too busy to bother with trivial stuff like this. As long as he finished settling matters at the third basement, he would have more than enough time to deal with the slave fighters here. At most, he just had to make examples of a few of them and the rest would stop making a fuss.
Upon entering the third basement, one could see all the guards on high alert as if their archenemy was marching right at them. Each of the cells had just over ten guards standing by them.
When they passed the last twin gate checkpoint, Blademaster Jiluet asked, "So, where the heck is Company Leader Pabola?"
The guards there did not reply and merely pointed at the depths beyond, before locking the gates up as quickly as they could.
Jiluet's attendant, Taxiwa, complained, "Why did you lock it up so quickly?! With Blademaster Jiluet here, the situation will be dealt with in no time!"
The other attendant, Keba, tugged on the former's shirt and said, "Forget it, they're just small fry. It's only their job to be cautious. Locke, lead the way forward quickly."
Locke murmured in acknowledgment before taking the torch from near the gate.
When they could see some lights in the distance, Locke said, "Sir Jiluet, it's just ahead..."
Jiluet passed Locke by and marched forward with long strides. His attendants had to scurry to keep up.
The lit area in front of them was chillingly silent. Not even the breathing of man or animal could be heard. Then suddenly, the screech of metal against metal echoed out from the darkness. A few moments passed, about enough time for a single breath to be exchanged, and the screech came again. It was steady, even methodical.
Jiluet marched on. Soon he saw a man seated like a proud lion. On his lap lay a slightly curved sword. He dragged a small stone, just about large enough to fill his palm across its blade-edge every couple of seconds. The same, desolate screech escaped into the darkness every time he did so.
Jiluet squinted. He felt as if he was being stared down by a huge beast. Stopping in his tracks, he said, "It's you, Shuss..."
Shuss, who was sharpening his blade, raised his head and said, "Hehe, you're finally here. I've waited for a good amount of time, you know. Over here, we can finally settle this fair and square."
"Where's Benack?"
"Over there," said Shuss as he pointed to the corner.
In the dark corner, a few completely stripped corpses could be seen. The empty expression on Benack's rat-like face as it stared at the ceiling was an obvious telltale sign of his death.
"You killed him?" murmured Jiluet.
Shuss shook his head with a smile and said, "Nope, it wasn't me. I had no hand in that stupid rat's death."
"I killed him," said a clear voice behind Jiluet.
When the blademaster and his attendants turned around, they saw the guard called Locke put the torch in a rack on one of the pillars before he removed his helmet and revealed his head of long, raven-black hair. Standing straight and proud, he no longer seemed like the cowardly guard they thought they knew.
Jiluet waved and his two attendants lunged towards Locke. The blademaster was well aware that he had fallen into a trap, but he did not panic. He believed that the only one he had to deal with was the slave blademaster Shuss. As long as he was able to deal with the man, the slave fighters' plot to entrap him would crumble under his raw might.
Just as he was about to turn his head, he caught the flash of a blade in the corner of his eye, followed by the sound of two muffled cries of death. Jiluet's expression changed. The moment he looked back, he was greeted by his two attendants, sprawled on the ground and clutching at their necks as if trying to stop their souls from leaking out of the two gashes in their throats.
"Who are you?" asked he, this time with a hint of caution in his voice.
"I am Count Norton Lorist," replied Lorist with a smile.
"So it's your house's forces that conquered Nupite?"
While Jiluet spent most of his time at the dueling grounds, he was well-informed about the kingdom's situation.
"Bingo! Too bad there's no gift for getting the correct answer," said Lorist as he gave a thumbs up.
"Why did you invade the Hanayabarta kingdom? We shouldn't have any grievances with your house," said Juliet.
"Haha, why you ask? Are you actually thick-faced enough to ask me that question? The slaver bands and slave traders of your kingdom actually dared to attack my dominion and capture our soldiers to make them slave fighters over here... More than 1300 of them were brought here, but now only 200 are left. I have come for vengeance. You will pay your debt of blood, with blood."
"So that's why you tricked me to come here? Do you think numbers will help you?" asked the blademaster as he drew his longsword.
"I tricked you to come because I actually consider your abilities to be a threat to me. Now that we're here, you won't be able to escape. I was afraid that you'd turn tail if we were out in the open. But don't worry, I won't bully you with numbers. Pick one of us to fight," said Lorist as he swung his sword casually.
"I pick you!" roared Jiluet as he launched himself towards Lorist.
His sword traced myriad slashes in the air, seemingly filling every inch of the hall with glints of his blade.
Clang-clang clang-clang!
Amidst the tremolo of clashing swords, Lorist said calmly, "Haha, Shuss my friend, he came to me on his own, alright? Don't blame me for stealing your prey. Haha, you chose well..."
Yet another quick succession of clanging swords resounded before the blademaster dashed away at an awkward angle, clutching his right chest where a small cut could be seen.
Shuss looked on with disbelief. He had clearly seen Lorist not even retreating the slightest under the barrage of strikes by Jiluet. He met each and every one of the attacks with a similarly fast response of his own. Not only was Lorist able to receive the storm of strikes with relative ease, he was even able to mount a counterattack of his own and left a mark on the right side of Juliet's chest with his sword! The most peculiar thing was Lorist's arcane swordsmanship style that seemed to have a chilling aura of a snowstorm that caused Blademaster Jiluet's strikes to slow down as if the cold was robbing his strikes of their energy.
Shuss finally understood why Lorist's subordinates were unquestioningly supportive when he said that he would deal with the rank 2 blademaster himself. He had wondered whether Lorist's victory over Benack was a fluke and even tried to advise Lorist against taking on Jiluet. He suggested that he be the one to fight the blademaster instead. He really did not think that the leader of House Norton's swordsmanship would be that impressive. He was filled with admiration for a count like him that was even willing to risk himself by sneaking into the capital alone to save his subordinates.
Jiluet was completely drained after his clash. He deeply regretted not picking Shuss as his opponent instead. Even though Shuss was no doubt a rather good fighter, he was merely a rank 1 blademaster that Jiluet had fought on occasion before. Even if Shuss could stall Jiluet for a couple of hours in a fight, he did not stand a good chance of defeating him. Jiluet felt that Shuss was definitely easier to handle than Lorist. The man kept him constantly on edge. He was not someone he could escape.
"Agh!" cried the blademaster in pain as he took another cut, this time on the side of his ribcage.
Lorist smiled and said, "Not bad, you were able to receive more than 300 of my strikes. As expected of a rank 2 blademaster. You are definitely worth your weight in gold."
Jiluet on the other hand was not able to muster any energy to make a retort. He felt that his whole body, including even his blood, was slowly being frozen. It caused his movements to slow down more and more.
It was as if he could see a snowstorm before him. Each of Lorist's strikes was a gentle snowflake falling onto his body. It seemed that Lorist was not feeling the chilling cold around him. He fused perfectly with the snowflakes around him and floated about freely above the field of pure white.
"Gaaghhh..." Lorist's longsword pierced through Jiluet's throat, but at that moment, the blademaster had already lost all consciousness. His eyes rolled back into his head as he collapsed dead on the ground with a sinister smile on his face.
"Lord Locke, your swordsmanship is nothing like anything I've ever seen before. It's also rather chilly in here. Even the men around me were sneezing at the cold," said Shuss as he approached gingerly to look at the dead Jiluet.
"Well, I had the elemental advantage against him since I often train in the cold snowscape," Lorist said with a carefree tone, "Alright. Blademaster Jiluet is already dealt with. Next, we have to handle the silver and gold-ranked instructors."
Lorist's plan was simple. All he had to do was lure them down to the deepest cells underground and deal with them down there. As for the 200-odd guards, they had already been replaced by slaves who had donned their equipment before Jiluet was lured down.
Lorist had settled the biggest problem successfully himself. All he had to do next was pretend to deliver orders from Jiluet so that the gold-ranked and silver-ranked instructors would head to the third basement to 'stop the slave fighters' revolt'.
All 13 gold-ranked instructors and more than a hundred silver-ranked instructors were ambushed at the third basement. It did not take long for their corpses to litter the ground. The only thing that went wrong was the desperate struggle of one of the gold-ranked instructors that took the life of gold-ranked slave fighter Plom. Even though Lorist and Shuss were both involved in the fighting, they could only do so much and were not able to save Plom and seven other unfortunate silver-ranked slave fighters from their untimely fate.
At dawn, the dueling grounds had completely fallen into the slave fighters' hands. Lorist left the dueling grounds secretly and returned to his room at the Blood and Flame.