As the figure drew near, his silhouette emerged from the cloak of shadows. A man of impeccable features, his skin radiated with an otherworldly glow that even the moonlight paled in comparison.
A gentle countenance that seemed to transcend the realm of mortals.
Appearing to be in his mid-forties, his presence exuded a timeless quality that left one questioning the passage of time.
His piercing golden slit pupil held a depth of understanding that spoke of a wisdom acquired over a thousand lives, a knowledge born of seeing the full spectrum of human emotion.
With each step he took, the air grew colder, as if all of nature was paying homage to this ethereal being. His very presence commanded reverence and admiration, leaving one in awe of his divinity.
"Divine Knight?" Nuu became guarded, but refuse to submit
A stark contrast to his portly black hair companion, his rotund form resembling that of a meatball. With a sense of intention in every step, the duo strode forward, their footfalls resonating throughout.
As they drew nearer, Nuu wrinkled his nose in distaste, his thoughts racing with one pressing question - why was he here? The sight before Nuu was unsettling, to say the least.
The stranger's steely gaze bore down on Nuu with unrelenting intensity, as if searching for something hidden deep within him.
His lips carried a faint, enigmatic smile that seemed to suggest he knew more than he was letting on.
Roslin's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "Where have that whore taken my children?" he demanded, Roslin's eyes ablaze with fury.
The silence that followed was deafening, and Roslin's impatience grew with each passing moment. "Are you deaf?" he snapped. "What the hell happened here? Where's that dog, Harriet!"
"Milord," Dorris interjected, "I fear this may not be proper-"
"Silence, Dorris!" the lord boomed, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Did I solicit your opinion?"
Dorris swiftly recoiled, her head bowing in deference to the lord's commanding tone.
The lord's impatience lingered in the air, palpable and suffocating. Dorris dared not speak another word, for fear of incurring Roslin's wrath.
She knew her place - a lowly servant, subservient to his every whim.
Roslin seemed utterly oblivious to Nuu, even as a headless corpse lay at the man's feet and blood stained the ground.
Six individuals were shackled nearby, their fate uncertain. Yet Roslin's first action was not to be cautious, but to walk up to the perpetrator, demanding an answer as though he was one of his henchmen.
The hush that had fallen over the scene was broken only by Mejo's quiet chuckle. "Ignorance is bliss," he muttered under his breath.
Roslin's brazen behavior had shocked even the unidentified man, who stood frozen in place, uncertain of how to react. But as the moment passed, he could feel a sense of disgust.
Amidst the tense atmosphere, Kirk's frustration reached its peak as he bellowed, "You foolish swine! Can you not sense the mood…Why did you leave the Castle?" His words hung in the air like a poisonous gas, suffocating the silence.
Suddenly, a familiar voice pierced through the stillness. "Uncle, is that you?" It was Roslin, and he seemed puzzled by the sight before him. "What are you doing in chains? Don't tell me you're indulging in such taboo role-play!"
Nuu's eyes bulged with disbelief, "What does he take me for?" Nuu sputtered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Kirk's reaction was much more violent, causing him to cough up blood. He struggled to regain his composure, but the excruciating pain was overwhelming. "You...you," he stuttered.
With utmost concern, Roslin rushed to his uncle's side. "Please don't strain yourself, Uncle. We need to summon a medic at once, Dorris!"
"Milord?" replied Dorris
"Hurry and fetch a Patos!" Dorris quickly responded to his command and rushed for assistance.
Nuu found himself in an utterly peculiar predicament, one that left him feeling torn between two emotions.
" A fool?" he muttered to himself, but even the word seemed inadequate to describe the oddity of the situation
As Nuu pondered over the Baron's intentions, it dawned upon him that this meatball of a man was no mere imbecile. Far from it, he was cunning and sly, with a quick wit and an even quicker tongue.
The way he defused the tension was nothing short of remarkable. And, to top it all off, he managed to seek help for the injured Kirk and Richard, right under Nuu's nose, despite knowing full well that the man in front of him could end his existence.
Nuu couldn't help but chuckle to himself. Who would have thought that a meatball would turn out to be such a person?
Roslin's heart raced with anger as he addressed the imposing figure before him. "My dear Sir..." he began, struggling to keep his voice steady. But before he could continue, the stranger cut him off with a sharp retort.
"You may address me as Lord Nuu," the man declared, his tone icy and controlled.
Roslin's chest tightened with a rush of fury. The impertinent brat before him was scarcely older than his own heir, yet Roslin fought to restrain his ire. He would not allow this impudent stranger to intimidating him, no matter how much he provoked him.
Straightening his shoulders, Roslin demanded an explanation, his voice oozing with biting sarcasm. "Pray do tell," he sneered, "why have you ravaged my humble town, slain my loyal men, and abducted my uncle? Might I inquire, are you not one of us, a native to these lands?"
Despite the burning anger that simmered beneath his skin, Roslin maintained an icy composure. His eyes bore into the man's, searching for any hint of weakness.
He refused to let this trespass go unpunished, yet he would not be rash. His honor demanded that he remain calm, no matter how much he yearned to lash out.
Nuu regarded Roslin coolly, his expression inscrutable. "Your questions are not without merit," he conceded. "But they are also not my concern"
Roslin seethed at the man's dismissive tone. "Not your concern?" he repeated, incredulous. "You have destroyed everything, and yet you claim it is not your concern?"
Nuu's lips curled upwards in a mirthless smile, revealing a glint of malice in his dark eyes. "You achieved this all on your own, did you not?" he spoke with a cool and composed voice, as if he were discussing the weather. "I suggest you step aside, lest I am forced to strip the blubber off of you
"You Dare!"
Roslin's voice rose with each sentence, a crescendo of indignation and righteousness. "We are not savages, here! Our nation is built upon the pillars of law and order. You must compensate, and release my uncle and the others this minute, or else…"
Each word seemed to weigh heavily upon Roslin's chest, causing him to gasp for breath. But his message was clear, and he was determined to deliver it with all the conviction he possessed.
Nuu seethed with impatience and fury, his eyes blazing with righteous anger. With a swift, forceful slap, Roslin was sent hurtling into the rubble, his body crumpling as he hit the ground.
Nuu spat with disdain, his voice filled with venom. "If it weren't for my good friend and the loss of her children, I would flay the fat off your skin, a filthy pig like defiled her long enough. Be gone from my sight!"
To make sure Roslin received the message loud and clear, Nuu delivered a fierce kick to his abdomen, causing the baron to groan in agony.
"..."
As his eyes fell upon Nuu, his companion couldn't help but view him in a new light. "Oh, what a rare gem," he mused to himself, "not an ounce of fear to be found within him. Hehe, who would have thought that I would find humor in such a quaint little town?"
The gleam in his eyes betrayed the amusement that bubbled within him. For he knew that he had stumbled upon something truly extraordinary
Mejos, the voice of reason, stepped in, his authoritative tone cutting through the tension. "Halt!" he commanded. "Do not go any further than you already have. Young lad, not only have you stained the dynasty with your insolence, but you dare to carry out an act of violence before His Grace…Have you grown tired of living?"
With a swift motion, Mejos splashed a fresh coat of black ink onto the canvas, readying to carry out justice
"It's quite all right, Mejo! Stand down! You are no match!" The calm and authoritative tone of one used to being obeyed.
Mejo looked incredulous, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What? He should be exhausted!" he retorted, his voice laced with doubt.
A flash of amusement flickered in Nuu's eyes. "I have humored you, old perv, for long enough," he drawled, his voice edged with a hint of impatience. "If you continue to draw your weapon, then I must accompany you."
With those words, he stepped forward, his movements fluid and graceful. Mejo hesitated for a moment, then slowly lowered his giant brush, his eyes carrying uncertainly between Nuu and the 9th Prince.
"I do believe, Sr. Nuu, that perhaps negotiations for the release of these people may not be entirely out of the question," ventured the speaker, his tone measured and thoughtful.
A flicker of amusement played across Nuu's features as he regarded the other man. "Quite astute of you. However, if you are indeed serious about conducting business, I must inform you that the price for the Baron's uncle and friend is 2.5 billion. I must ask, do you possess the necessary funds?"
The hapless captives, the pitiable pawns in this ruthless transaction, could only cast their eyes downward in abject shame. Stripped of all dignity and autonomy by the frigid calculations of their captors, they were utterly helpless to resist their fate.
"What of the head and others?" the Prince inquired, gesturing towards the remaining prisoners.
Nuu responded with a nonchalant gesture, "This head," he said, indicating the gruesome object before them, "belongs to none other than the infamous leader of the Night of Terror, as you have already surmised.
As for these two, they are the highest-ranking knights of their order, standing at the very pinnacle of their Knighthood. In order to secure their deaths, I am willing to incur a loss of one billion ducats, adding to the already exorbitant sum of three and a half billion."
"A loss, you say?" scoffed the Prince, his tone dripping with derision. "Very well then. And what of those two over there?" he queried, gesturing towards a pair of figures lurking in the shadows.
Nuu's lips twisted into a sardonic smile as he regarded the two individuals indicated by the Prince. "Ah, those two, are reserved, I must apologize."
With each exchange, he looks towards Mejo for confirmation.
Froh's heart leaped with a flicker of hope, his eyes imploring for mercy, while Kirk struggled to contain his rage. He had fought tooth and nail to capture that barbarian, and yet he was now powerless to influence this exchange.
"I cannot sell my own kin, can I?" Nuu continued with a grin, the corners of his mouth curling upwards in amusement.
Kirk and Froh both glared at him, their eyes bloodshot with fury. The very notion of selling one's own kin was repugnant to them, but they had no relation to this fiend. Yet he continues his bald-faced lie while stealing his barbarian.
But Nuu seemed unbothered by their ire. "Perish the idea," he said, still grinning. "You see, my grace, these fellows have rather a unique taste, wouldn't you say so?"
The Prince's voice was cool and detached as he inquired, "What do you mean by that?"
"There's no offense, your grace, or should I address you as 9th Prince Amon?"
"..."
"Put it away!" shouted Amon at Mejo, but it was already too late
With a whistling wind, Nuu's blade pointed at Mejo's neck. The only thing keeping his head intact is Amon's fan.
The air was thick with tension as the two men stood facing each other. Amon's eyes glittered with amusement as he looked at the young warrior before him.
"What a unique weapon," he mused, "to think I would come across a Child of Darkness...I see why they were no match, your blade carries your gift, and that armor-like skin…"
Nuu's frown deepened as he stepped back, his hand instinctively tightening around the hilt of his sword. He had heard stories of Amon, the enigmatic Prince.
Nuu found himself on edge in his presence.
"No need to be guarded," Amon said smoothly, his voice laced with amusement. "I meant no harm. Mejo's reaction is quite normal, don't you agree, Nuu of House Thornbrick?"
Nuu remained silent, his eyes fixed on Amon. He had been trained to be cautious, to trust no one but his own instincts. And his instincts were telling him that Amon was not to be trusted.
"Why such a face?" Amon continued, his gaze unwavering. "You can research others, but I can't? I have kept my eyes on the Maverik for years...That includes the background of every Practioner."
Nuu's grip on his sword tightened even further. He had not expected Amon to know about his situation, let alone keep tabs on them for years. The thought was unsettling, to say the least.
"Why are you in the south, when you should be in the Imperial Capitol?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"An old fool drawing his last breath," Amon replied, his indifference evident in his tone. "What does that have to do with me? I am much more interested in you..."
Nuu narrowed his eyes, studying Amon carefully. He knew better than to trust the words of royals