Back in the solemn courtyard of the headsman academy, Dab's voice trembled as he accused the white hat squad, his anger and sorrow converged in his words. "My family would still be alive if it weren't for you!"
Jacob's smile remained infuriatingly serene as Dab's accusations echoed in the courtyard. "It's probably just a misunderstanding, young one," he offered, attempting to defuse the situation. "We always fight for the people, above all else."
But Dab's trembling lips would have none of it. "You lie!"
In response, Jacob extended a chocolate bonbon from the chest as an apparent gesture of goodwill. "Calm down, kid. Here have a bonbon" he cooed, holding out the sweet temptation to Dab.
However, the fire in Dab's eyes burned brighter than ever before. In a swift and resolute motion, he slapped the chocolate from Jacob's hand, sending it tumbling to the ground.
The bonbon landed amidst the shocked silence, a small and pitiful casualty of the escalating confrontation. Dab, undeterred by the consequences, lunged at Jacob with his wooden sword, an act of desperation and vengeance.
Jacob, clad in his formidable armor, made the defense appear effortless. With a practiced grace, he parried Dab's strike with his armored forearm, the impact ringing out like a clash of steel. In the same fluid motion, he seized Dab by the hair, his fingers cruelly entwining the boy's locks. "You peasant."
With an almost casual brutality, Jacob forced Dab's face into the unforgiving ground, grinding it against the hard courtyard surface. The relentless assault began, an unbridled rage propelling each blow.
Meanwhile, the other members of the white hat squad either remained indifferent to the violence or savored the gruesome spectacle. Their loyalty to Jacob was unwavering, and they bore witness to his cruelty with disturbing indifference.
Amidst the pummeling, Jacob spat out words that dripped with disdain and condescension, each one a cruel label meant to strip Dab of his humanity. "You serf." he hissed. "You villein." "You servant."
Every impact sent crimson droplets spattering across Jacob's white jacket and splattered across his contorted face, which now bore the maniacal visage of a tormentor reveling in the agony he inflicted.
Amidst the brutal spectacle, Bran found himself paralyzed by a complex whirlwind of emotions. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, torn between the fury at his own perceived weakness and the seething anger he held towards Dab for his recklessness. He knew, deep down, that patience was a virtue, and vengeance could wait for a more opportune moment. But watching his friend being pummeled, his instincts warred against his rationality.
As the relentless assault continued, a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon. A courageous soul from the stunned crowd decided that enough was enough. Bran's eyes darted towards this figure, and he held his breath, hoping for some intervention.
Finally, after the last merciless hit, Jacob hoisted Dab's lifeless, shattered visage from the ground. "You slave," he whispered with venomous loathing.
But then, a sudden interruption shattered the oppressive silence. A defiant voice pierced the tension, shouting a resounding "Hey!" All heads turned to see Alfred, propelled forward with astonishing velocity, his wooden sword held aloft like an executioner's axe.
The weapon collided with Jacob's body, releasing a shocking burst of energy that sent the headman flying through the air. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. The white hat squad, quick to react, reached for their weapons, their expressions a blend of surprise and alarm.
Jacob screeched to a halt, his two feet leaving trails behind.
"Who you think you are?" asked Kled as he readied his weapon with the other white hats, pointing at Alfred.
As Alfred stood there, a triumphant smile etched across his face, he locked eyes with the white hats, unflinchingly meeting their collective gaze. His hand rested casually on his hip as he boldly declared his aspirations, "I'm going to be the next Omega."
Jacob, now on his feet, his anger momentarily subsiding, regarded Alfred with a mix of emotions. In a flash, he was transported back to his own youth, a time when he had been in a similar position, kneeling amidst the corpses of fallen vampires. Before him had stood a young man, bearing the same wide, confident smile that Alfred now wore.
In the present, the courtyard held its breath as tension hung in the air like a heavy fog.
"You gonna pay for this" Kled, his rage barely contained, advanced towards Alfred, brandishing a menacing contraption resembling a bear trap.
"Enough!" Jacob, the imposing figurehead of the white hat squad, raised his voice, and the sound echoed through the courtyard, commanding the attention of all.
With measured steps, he approached Alfred, while Kled clenched his teeth, his fury barely restrained.
"Cadet," Jacob began, his voice carrying a weight of authority, "who is your father?"
Alfred, still basking in the adrenaline-fueled audacity of his actions, looked up at Jacob. There was a mixture of uncertainty and defiance in his gaze as he responded, "I don't remember him, but he is a headsman."
Jacob's gaze bore into Alfred's, a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes as he contemplated this revelation. The courtyard, once a battleground, had now become an arena of questions and uncertain futures.
A silk handkerchief, retrieved from an inner pocket of Jacob's jacket, emerged to wipe away the sordid evidence of his brutality.
Jacob, with calculated nonchalance, dropped the soiled cloth atop Dab's head, as though he had just concluded a mundane task, and turned to Garf. His actions mirrored those of a person finishing a meal, the gruesome spectacle nothing more than a brief interlude in his day.
"Clean up your mess," Jacob ordered, his tone devoid of remorse.
Without a backward glance, he mounted his horse and continued his departure, as if the savage display had been no more than an inconsequential blip in his day.
Kled moved swiftly, slamming the lid of the chest of chocolates shut just as Alfred's hand extended towards it. The action was abrupt, leaving Alfred with nothing but the memory of the sweet treats that now eluded him.
The white-hatted headsman squad made their exit, leaving the bewildered onlookers behind.
****
The council chamber was adorned with intricate patterns and tapestries, giving it an air of ancient wisdom and authority.
A large, ornate wooden table dominated the room, and upon it lay an open chest. Within this chest were six vials with headsman seals on it, their contents a substance swayed.
One of the council members, an elderly man with a demeanor of quiet authority, lifted one of the vials delicately to inspect it. His weathered hands handled it with care, and his eyes, which had seen countless years, bore into the dark liquid.
"Very good job, Jacob," he finally remarked, his voice carrying the weight of his years. "We will have an exam after all."
Jacob, the leader of the white hat squad, stood before the council with an air of confidence. "I do as our faith leader pleases," he replied with a deferential nod. "In our way here, we investigated the scene where Talos caravan got ambushed."
Another council member, leaning slightly forward in his seat, regarded Jacob with an inquisitive expression. "Was it really a vampire in your conclusion?" he inquired, his voice a blend of curiosity and skepticism.
"No," Jacob responded decisively. "Our fellow headsman was ambushed by bandits. Well-trained bandits, mind you, so they didn't leave much chance for our comrades. They likely try to get the angel blood for the fortune it could fetch on the black market, or were perhaps hired by a third party. Talos, in his fortune, managed to escape."
"Are you certain of this?" a different council member chimed in, his tone bearing a hint of doubt. "It doesn't quite align with what we know of Talos."
Jacob maintained his composure, meeting their doubts with unwavering conviction. "I'm afraid it's the only plausible explanation. Our old friend Talos has changed, not for the better."
Another council member interjected, raising an eyebrow in contemplation. "We had our suspicions as well. It seemed unlikely that vampires would suddenly become organized."
Jacob offered reassurance, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I spoke with the bishop personally on this matter, and he expressed no concerns.
"If our faith leader, the bishop, is not alarmed, then we need not be either. However, it would be wise to apprehend Talos immediately." added a council member.
The council members nodded in agreement, their expressions reflective of a shared sense of urgency.
Jacob, ever the pragmatist, offered a solution. "Allow me to handle this matter, because we cannot predict the actions of a cornered beast. I bring him with my squad to capture vampires for the test of the cadets. I shall ensure that Talos does not pose any further threat."
"You even help us with that?" relief washed over the council members as they looked to Jacob. "You're a lifesaver, Jacob," one of them proclaimed.
Jacob's smile was charming but held a hint of self-assuredness. "I take it upon myself to safeguard the future of our establishment, starting with our young cadets. You need not concern yourselves any further regarding Talos."