The night was deep and silent as Jarvis reached the gates of Concordia, his heart pounding with urgency. He was stopped by the city guards, their spears crossing his path. Their eyes scrutinized his outfit, recognizing it as the attire of a high-ranking butler.
"What's your business in the city at this hour?" one of the guards asked, suspicion heavy in his voice.
"I'm on an urgent errand for my lord," Jarvis replied, his tone calm and authoritative.
The guards exchanged glances, fearing that this butler might belong to a high ranking lord and not wanting any trouble they then stepped aside, allowing him passage. "Very well, but be quick."
Jarvis nodded his thanks and spurred his horse onward, heading straight for the potion store. It was closed, the shutters drawn tight. Undeterred, Jarvis knocked insistently on the door, the sound echoing through the deserted street. After several minutes, an angry voice called out from within.
"Who dares disturb me at this hour?"
Jarvis jingled a pouch of gold coins in response. The door creaked open, revealing a bleary-eyed shopkeeper. His irritation faded as he saw the gold. "State your business," he demanded, though with far less hostility.
"I need several potions of regeneration, health, antidote, and detoxification," Jarvis said quickly, showing the urgency in his eyes.
The shopkeeper grumbled but complied, gathering the requested items. "These are all the potions I have right now," he said while handing Jarvis the potions. Jarvis handed over the gold, took the potions, and placed them in his spatial bag. With a hurried nod, he mounted his horse and galloped back towards the base.
As Jarvis neared the outskirts of the city, he thought to himself, that is very grateful to master Akira and he can do anything for his well being. Master Akira gave him a place to live. Food to eat and a purpose to live with and on top of all this he is a kind hearted person.
The horse began to tire, its speed dwindling. "Just a little more m almost there", Jarvis said to himself .He urged it onward, eyes scanning the darkened road. Suddenly, a flash of movement caught his eye—a sword swung from behind a tree. He barely dodged, but the attack threw him off balance. Arrows followed, whizzing past, with one embedding itself in his right shoulder and another hitting the horse's back leg. The horse stumbled and fell, emitting a painful scream.
Jarvis hit the ground hard, dazed but aware. The horse struggled to its feet and limped away, leaving Jarvis alone. From the shadows, four bandits emerged, their faces twisted with malicious glee.
"I told you he'd be back," sneered a skinny bandit.
"Alright, alright, don't brag," another replied, rolling his eyes.
The bandit who had initially attacked Jarvis with his sword approached, a cruel smile on his face. "Now, old man, what do you have for us?"
Jarvis stayed silent, crawling backward, knowing the base was just around the corner. If he could just hold out a bit longer, the goblins on guard might spot him. The bandit leader noticed his retreat and stepped on his foot, pinning him in place.
"You're not going anywhere," the bandit leader growled. He gestured to Jarvis's bag. "Check his bag."
A bandit stepped forward, reaching for the bag. Jarvis, quick as a flash, drew a dagger from his coat and slashed at the bandit's hand, causing him to yelp and recoil. Enraged, the leader decided to end it. He raised his sword to deliver a fatal blow.
As the sword descended, Jarvis thrust his dagger into the bandit's thigh. The leader howled in pain, momentarily releasing his foot, using this moment Jarvis barely moved backwards but still the bandit managed to graze Jarvis with his sword. Blood trickled from a fresh wound running from Jarvis's forehead, down his left eye, to his cheek. His eye was spared but sealed shut by the blood.
"You're one mad butler," the leader snarled. "I'll make your death a miserable one."
The leader pulled out the dagger and barked orders to his men. Two bandits grabbed Jarvis's arms and legs, pinning him down. Despite his struggles, he was too old and weak to break free. The leader raised his sword again, aiming to cut Jarvis in half.
As the sword descended, Jarvis felt a wave of despair. He thought of Akira, of the goblins who had saved him, of the life he had finally found purpose in. "I never properly thanked them," he whispered to himself. "I won't get the chance now."
Just as the sword was about to strike, a blur moved through the night. There was a sickening sound of metal slicing through flesh. The leader's top half separated from his bottom, sliding grotesquely to the ground. Standing behind him was Alphagob, his sword gleaming with the bandit's blood. The bandits froze, their eyes wide with terror.