Marcellus, fueled by a mix of vexation and resolve, made his way to the Governor's residence.
Under normal circumstances, the usual route involved a serene boat ride across a river, a natural moat that encircled the estate, offering the estate an additional layer of privacy and security.
Most visitors and residents alike would use a boat to cross the tranquil waters, a journey that, despite its briefness, provided a moment of calm and reflection.
However, for those who knew the more hidden paths, like Marcellus, there was an alternative – a narrow wooden bridge, hidden among the lush foliage of the gardens.
Barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast, this bridge offered a more direct and solitary path to the residence. It was a route less travelled, obscured by the overhanging branches and the thick underbrush, making it an ideal choice for someone seeking discretion or haste.
Marcellus, his mind racing with thoughts of betrayal and unanswered questions, chose this secluded path.
The bridge creaked under his hurried steps, the sound echoing softly in the surrounding stillness of the garden.
The early morning light filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on his path, mirroring the tumultuous thoughts that clouded his mind.
Upon reaching the other side, he quickened his pace, moving through the manicured gardens that surrounded the Governor's estate.
The tranquillity of the setting was lost on him; his focus was solely on finding Edwin, the only person he felt could help him make sense of the previous night's events.
Marcellus entered the training hall, a spacious area where the estate's guards and visitors often practised their combat skills.
Entering the training hall, Marcellus was greeted by the sight of Finn practising the techniques he had taught him.
The hall was alive with the sound of training - about forty men honing their skills under the watchful eye of a tall woman wielding a long sword. Her commanding presence dominated the yard.
Edwin was perched on a ledge, engaging in what seemed to be light-hearted banter with a maid.
Noticing Marcellus, he let a mischievous smirk play across his lips and descended to meet him.
"Blackeye, what brings you here in such a state?" Edwin asked, he decided to tease with Marcellus.
Marcellus, barely keeping his frustration under control, quickly recounted the night's events and Ingrid's betrayal.
He spoke of the mysterious figure orchestrating the attack and his urgent need for answers.
Edwin listened, however, he couldn't resist teasing Marcellus about being drugged, adding a light note to the tense conversation.
"We took care of it," Edwin finally said, cutting off any further questions.
"We will capture the remaining members based on the clues we have. They are bounty hunters, employed by some noble concerned about the war. If they believe we are onto them, they will likely abandon their operation. That's typical of the Anglian nobility."
A lot of information was relayed enlightening Marcellus.
Nodding in understanding "…What if The Hulk is extremely crucial and important?" asked Marcellus worriedly.
Edwin's smile didn't waver, but he didn't answer directly.
Instead, he acknowledged Marcellus's sharp instincts that had helped them. "Your quick warning and agreement played a key role in this. But considering the potential dangers and the heightened tensions, I suggest we head to the chapel, you might find more answers there."
Marcellus reflexively asked "The Stormseekers?"
Edwin, leading the way out of the training hall, glanced back at Marcellus with a knowing look. "Yes, the Stormseekers," he confirmed.
"The priest wants to speak with you, and their chapel is not just a place of worship but a refuge in times of storms. If anyone has information on the movements of these bounty hunters or their noble employers, it's them."
Marcellus, processing this information, followed Edwin through the estate. He was less angry now but still irritated, somewhere along this conversation it had dawned on him that he had been used as bait.
Thinking about last night he had his guard up. Yes, he had drank some but not enough that he could not swing his sword. It was when he saw Ingrid he had subconsciously lowered his guard.
The mention of the Stormseekers piqued his interest. Known for their deep connections to the church of Storms and fanatical tendencies, the Stormseekers were more than just religious figures of the church; they were feared at sea.
As they made their way to the chapel, Marcellus couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.
The involvement of the Stormseekers hinted at deeper, more complex machinations at play. The stakes were higher than he had initially thought.
Why would the Stormseekers care about The Hulk? I understand the government involvement for gold but surely not the church? not the priest he seemed pious.
Soon Edwin and Marcellus arrived at the square.
The chapel, an elegant structure with towering columns, stood solemnly amidst the sprawling square.
The beauty of the place was undeniable.
Upon entering, they were greeted by the serene ambience of the chapel. The air was filled with a sense of solemnity and age-old wisdom.
Edwin led Marcellus to a secluded area, where they descended but not the way Marcellus entered before, it seemed now they were going through the back, descending lower, till they hit the cold stones below
"It's time we uncover the full extent of this ruse," Edwin stated firmly as they descended. "The Stormseekers have eyes and ears everywhere. They'll help you understand who is behind this and why you were targeted."
Marcellus nodded resolutely.
As they delved deeper into the chapel, their path was lit by inlaid oil lamps embedded in the walls. They navigated past an intersection and turned right, leading them to a room Marcellus recognized. It was an archive of sorts, its shelves laden with scrolls and manuscripts.
Inside, three familiar figures caught Marcellus's attention. He had encountered each of them previously, albeit under different circumstances.
The first was a rotund Knight under Edwin's command—the last of the three Marcellus had encountered in a prior conflict.
Standing beside him was the imposing Priest of Storms, distinguished by his unique feature, a solitary left eye.
The third figure was another minister from the Church of Storms, whom Marcellus deduced to be a laity member of the same order.
As Marcellus and Edwin entered, all eyes in the room turned towards them.
It was the Priest of Storms who broke the silence. His face lit up with visible delight as if he had rediscovered something long lost. "I'm glad to see you came back," his voice resonated with the room.