"What do you mean father is dead?" Bennet's voice trembled with a mixture of shock and disbelief, his eyes wide as he tried to comprehend the weight of the leader's words.
"I'll explain everything later, get your things, we need to get moving," the leader of the warriors urged, his tone carrying an air of command that brooked no delay.
Martha, though her heart was heavy with grief, wasted no time. The shock of the news was swift to be replaced by a mother's instinct to protect her family. With tear-filled eyes, she moved with determined efficiency, swiftly gathering the most crucial belongings—gold and silver, a few treasured keepsakes.
The room seemed to echo with a flurry of activity—the rustling of clothing, the clinking of metal, and the hushed whispers of conversation. Bennet's emotions were a tempest, but the urgency of the situation tethered him to the present.
Hugo's gaze shifted between his mother and the leader, his own emotions a mixture of confusion and determination. His hands moved with a silent purpose, gathering his own belongings, ready to face whatever lay ahead.
Outside, a carriage stood waiting, its sleek form a stark contrast against the rustic backdrop of their home.
Bennet's gaze shifted from the carriage to his mother, Martha, whose eyes still held traces of the tears she had shed in the midst of packing. His own emotions churned, but he knew that the time for processing would come later. For now, action was their shield against the storm that loomed.
Martha's movements were brisk as she led the way, her thoughts focused on the safety of her family. She approached the carriage with a mixture of resolve and trepidation, her heart a mosaic of emotions.
As they boarded the carriage, the world seemed to shift around them. The interior of the carriage offered a haven—a space where they could process their emotions and steel themselves for what awaited.
The door closed with a soft thud, sealing them within.
As the carriage began to move, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves on the road provided a backdrop to their thoughts.
"Now, tell us what happened?" Bennet's voice was laced with a mixture of curiosity and concern, his gaze fixed on the leader of the warriors.
"I am Maverick—no, that's my nickname. I am Robert, a Captain from the Watchers," the leader replied, his words carrying a hint of complexity that piqued Bennet's interest.
"I used to work under Albert twenty years ago. To us, he is a legendary figure," he continued, his tone a blend of nostalgia and respect.
"We're thankful for your sentiments, but we need to know what happened," Bennet pressed, his voice reflecting both appreciation and a sense of urgency.
"I assumed he was under Captain Orion. So, are the Silver Blade Pirates vanquished too?" Hugo questioned, his words carrying a touch of incredulity.
"Orion, he deceived your father," Robert responded gravely, his words cloaking the room in somberness.
"He ended Albert's life and displayed his severed head to the new king of Minas Trojan" Robert's voice carried the burden of the revelation, its gravity palpable in the room.
The room seemed to hold its breath as Robert's revelation hung heavy in the air. Martha sat with her head bowed, her features obscured by a handkerchief that absorbed her silent tears.
Bennet's voice pierced the stillness, his words a reflection of the confusion and disbelief that echoed in all their hearts.
"This doesn't make any sense," he began, his tone a mixture of frustration and sorrow, "why would Orion betray Father, and why are you protecting us?" His gaze was fixed on Robert.
He took a moment, the weight of his response carried in the depth of his gaze.
"Orion was assured support by the King of Minas Trojan, an opportunity that holds the potential of a lifetime, paving the way for him to rise as a Pirate Lord," Robert replied.
"A Pirate Lord, what does that even mean?" Hugo's curiosity was evident in his voice as he sought to grasp the significance of the title.
"A Pirate Lord possesses dominion over three distinct countries," Robert clarified, his words carrying the weight of understanding.
"However, the path to achieving such a position demands considerable wealth to muster the resources needed for establishing a formidable pirate army." he continued.
"But Orion is an honorable man, I don't believe he will do such a thing," Bennet challenged, his voice carrying a mixture of loyalty and disbelief.
He recollected how Captain Orion had safeguarded the town during a previous attack, a memory that contrasted sharply with the allegations being made.
"A pirate has no honor, they are opportunists," Robert stated firmly, his words echoing with a sense of pragmatism that spoke of the harsh realities of their world.
Bennet struggled to accept the revelation, but a distant memory resurfaced—his father's words cautioning him never to trust a pirate.
Martha mustered her courage, her determination shining through as she composed herself and finally posed the question that hung heavily in the air. "What's the plan?"
"Right now, the goal is to ensure your safety by relocating you to a secure location. From there, we'll strategize on finding a place where your family can establish a peaceful life," Robert replied, his tone resolute and practical.
Bennet, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts, interjected, "What about the Academy?"
"The Academy serves as a safe haven. It's considered a neutral zone and is heavily guarded," Robert confirmed, his words carrying a sense of reassurance.
"However," Robert's tone shifted slightly, his gaze landing on Martha, "your mother cannot remain in any of the towns within this region."
Martha's expression remained steady, she understood the complexities of the situation, and though the prospect of leaving behind her children was daunting, she recognized the necessity of it for the safety of her family.
While on their journey, the muffled sounds of commotion from outside reached the ears of those within the carriage, instantly putting everyone on high alert.
"Captain, we have company," one of the watchers announced, his voice tinged with urgency.
The carriage came to an abrupt stop, the atmosphere within the growing tense. As the door swung open and the occupants emerged, they were met with a chilling sight. Before them stood a group of around fifteen men, their stance and demeanor speaking of confrontation. The air seemed to crackle with tension, the very landscape transformed into a battleground of uncertainty.
"Surrender the family, and we might spare your lives," one of the men declared with a chilling tone.
Robert's voice rang out, firm and unyielding. "Do you comprehend the significance of who stands before you?" he challenged. "I am a Captain from the White Wolf division."
The words seemed to resonate, prompting a hushed murmur among the men outside. The name "White Wolf division" carried weight—a name synonymous with an elite unit recognized for their expertise in assaults and tactical operations.
Recognition flickered among the group, their bravado faltering as they exchanged uncertain glances. The air was heavy with tension, a standoff fueled by the understanding that they faced not just any opposition, but a formidable and experienced adversary.
"Well, I shall entrust the three of you to the care of my two companions," Robert's voice carried an authority.
Stepping out of the carriage, Robert's presence seemed to transform the atmosphere almost instantaneously, as if a harbinger of fate itself had descended upon the scene. He faced the opposing group with an air of unflinching determination, a figure marked by both experience and a sense of responsibility.
As Robert took his stance, a palpable tension settled over the scene—a pivotal moment that encapsulated a clash where the consequences loomed larger than anyone there could entirely comprehend.
"So, who among you will make the first move?" Robert's voice cut through the charged air, his question more a challenge than an inquiry.
Accompanied by three of his own men, Robert stood as if he was untouchable. Meanwhile, his remaining two companions skillfully maneuvered the carriage to an alternate route, ensuring the safety of their charges.
A surge of audacity rippled through the opposing group, a few attempting to advance toward the carriage. But Robert's form seemed to blur, his response swift and lethal. In an instant, a life was extinguished.
Robert's voice carried a chilling promise, his smile holding the weight of experience. "I'd advise against it if I were you."
Meanwhile, inside the carriage, Martha's voice held a firm resolve as she issued instructions to the two watchers who accompanied them. "Take us to the academy," she directed, her words carrying both urgency and a sense of practicality. The gravity of the situation had forged a path, and it led to the safety of the academy—a sanctuary in these tumultuous times. The men nodded their agreement, their expressions a mix of understanding and readiness.
Hugo and Bennet, though fueled by youthful determination, couldn't help but feel a twinge of powerlessness in the face of seasoned warriors. Their remarkable abilities, though notable given their age, seemed inadequate in the face of the looming danger.