Mark was walking on the streets with both hands in the pockets of his gray overcoat. He was panting slightly, though he didn't do any physical activity as of late. He was just walking.
He was trying to concentrate on what he needed to do next, but his mind was too busy with another thing.
'That damn bastard really did this to me... He got me right on the ribs,' Mark thought, placing his hand inside his gray overcoat and placing it gently on his sides.
'It has that annoying Blessing that makes him a tough opponent. There was just one time when I could surpass that bastard, and I didn't have the chance to finish him off... I would sacrifice my limbs just to have another chance to kill him like on that battle.'
Mark was very frustrated with himself. He did not only end up in a stalemate against that paladin who attacked him some nights ago, but also lost his brother again in that huge city. He wasted his chance to get him back.
'Anyway,' he sighed, which somehow made his sides hurt a lot. Laughs, deep breaths, and sighs were the very three things that he needed to learn not to do for a while now. At least until he could heal that wound completely.
'A-Anyway, though that was the only chance I got to take my brother until now, it would be even worse if it was the last. I couldn't fight on even grounds against that paladin while Zed was there. If something irreversible happened to him, I would never forgive myself. Also, all my efforts would come to waste if something happened. The best choice was to let him go at that moment.
'Fortunately, I saw on the news that the citizens are worried about certain past paranormal events during these nights. The paladins are eager to get Zed back to them, but they won't risk showing themselves to society. Blow up their covers is something that would be too harmful and difficult to fix.'
While thinking about these things, Mark continued struggling to keep walking. Cold sweat was running down his back as he did so. His forehead was completely wet already.
The way to the place he wanted to go shouldn't be so long, but for him, it looked like ten kilometers.
Each step of his sent a wave of pain across his body and made him even more tired and overwhelmed. He just wanted to sit somewhere to get rid of that feeling.
He let out a sigh of relief once he finally got to the establishment he wanted to go to. He felt a torturing sensation in his sides after he did so, making him curse himself for sighing so much during the day.
With no hesitation, he stepped forward, entering a bar situated in the corners of the city center. That was a very old and worn-out bar. The place was crumbling down, and even the front door wasn't opening as it should, so he needed to put in a little effort to open that thing.
"Damn it, guys... you should really work on that goddamn door," he ranted, nearly letting out a heavy sigh.
"You've got balls to enter here and rant like this, Mark. I should take my gun and shoot at your foot, so that you stop being so insolent!" an old fat man with a long beard and thick eyebrows said as he cleaned the balcony of the bar.
The establishment was just as worn out on the inside as it was outside. Actually, maybe the insides were worst than the storefront.
There were just three tables inside that place. Some chairs that were clearly not safe to sit on were lined in front of the balcony. The floor was clean, at least, which was rare for any bar similar to that one. The only light it had on the middle of the ceiling was flashing from time to time.
The bar didn't have any clients at that hour of the afternoon. Probably, they would only start to come after the sunset. Well, that is, if someone other than Mark would ever step inside that dump.
"Man, you are quite annoying. You know very well that this place is nearly collapsing," Mark said to the man as he walked towards the balcony and sat there, on one of the not-to-safe chairs. "Also, I know that you have a lot of money, cheapskate old man. Just buy another place to stay."
"Just shut the hell up. Do you really think that I should move when this place is the perfect meeting point for you and the others? I feel like I can make something worth it out of my pointless life while being stuck in this shithole."
Mark sighed, which made him shiver in pain once again. He was nearly opening his chest and taking his lungs out of there, such was his annoyance with that old habit of his.
"Are you hurt somewhere, buddy?" The old man asked, raising one of his thick browns.
"Yeah, maybe a little bit..."
"Well, it isn't a surprise at all. I know very well how reckless you can be. Take this. Alcohol is good for the wounds," the old man said as he gave a glass of some unknown alcoholic beverage.
"Sorry, old man. I can't drink. Once I get out of this dump I will need to take a night patrol, and I need to search for someone. I can't do it while drunk," Mark said while brushing off the glass, even though his eyes were telling that he wanted it badly.
The barman finally stopped doing anything else related to his usual chores, casting a look of reproach toward Mark.
"Won't you learn that you cannot embrace the word with your arms alone, kid? You are strong, but you are not a one-man army, and your chest is not made of steel. Anybody can stab you in your heart if they have a good aim and attitude. That's a fact for any soldier out there," he seriously said, spatting on the ground after he finished.
"Do you also think that I am being arrogant?" Mark asked with a carefree smile on his face.
"Arrogant, imprudent, and very, very dumb. I could add more adjectives, but I barely know what these mean, so I will leave it at this."
"Don't worry, all of them are right," Mark chuckled, shaking his head softly to the sides. He had a lot of fun talking to that old barman.
"Anyway, where are Bryan and Scott? They seem a bit late. Are they slacking now that it is safer to walk around the city due to the tense situation out there?"
The broken door of the bar opened with a sound grunt. Mark didn't even need to look over to know who was entering.
"Talking about the devil...", the old man commented, hurriedly going to prepare more drinks.
"Hmm? Did we lose something?" Bryan, a white man with dark-brown eyes and black hair asked as he walked towards the balcony. He had facial features similar to that of an Asian man. He had a skinny body structure, but that didn't give off the feeling of being weak, but very agile. He had about the same height as Mark.
Bryan was wearing a joyful smile, followed by nonchalant eyes. Of course, he was just a covert. That smile was faker than tabloid news.
"I bet that he was badmouthing us," someone else said, getting out of Bryan's cover. He was, at least, ten centimeters shorter than Bryan, though his face and body were basically the same as his. His hair was longer as well and tied in a small ponytail. His name was Scott.
Different from Bryan, Scott didn't bother to hide his true self, always wearing a bored and annoyed expression.
Nobody needed more than a glance to know that they were twins.
"I, Mark, badmouthing the best scouts of Ignus Cornus clan? Of cooourse I would not be crazy to do something like this!" Mark sarcastically said.
"I will pretend that I didn't notice your sarcasm," Scott said, "and you pretend that I didn't get it. Otherwise, things will get complicated here."
Mark laughed out loud, and so did the old man.
The twins sat there, one on each side of Mark. The latter didn't look them in the eyes. He didn't feel that he was prepared for their looks of reproach.
"So..." Mark started, wanting more than ever that glass of beverage, "how are things going in our territory? What about our squadron?"
The twins exchanged glances before turning to Mark again.
"Chaos, man," said Bryan with a tired voice. "Only chaos and sadness. Everyone is worried about the future."
"Yes, since you left our territory, the paladins are making a fuss over this fact. They even tried to invade us. And they would, if not for Baltazar to... to disown you."
Although Mark knew that something like that was bound to happen, he felt his heart breaking upon finally hearing the news. In fact, he had planned things to turn out that way, but he didn't measure how much it would hurt him.
'Things are finally moving. Of course, moving across a tough path...'