[ Chapter Ten - Retreat ]
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After taking a few turns—left, right, and then another left—the streets grew narrower and more deserted.
Further ahead, the view was just as grim as the heavy weather. From time to time, thunder roared like a distant beast, accompanied by cries echoing not far from them.
It was all too quiet, not outside but inside the carriage. Ashran felt a bit anxious, wondering, 'What if they met a Cyclops along the way? Would they be able to respond, given their limited visibility?' He kept looking through the water-dripping window, as if expecting hundreds of Cyclops to suddenly appear and jump at them at any moment.
Then, the carriages halted. The low creaking of the wheels stopped, and the sound of the heavy raindrops grew louder, followed by a clap of thunder.
"What happened?" a voice asked.
"Someone's approaching us—no, there are a few of them . . . " said a second voice.
There was no hostility felt among them. The individuals came nearer and nearer until they were close to the carriages.
"Sir, it's us! S'rry we're late, but we've now found a route to take. I wouldn't say it's safe, but it's enough for us to make our way through," said a loud voice.
Ashran recognized the voice; it was Trent's. He saw Trent from inside the carriage through the door's window, rainwater dripping down his face just like the droplets on the glass. Behind him passed four mercenaries. Among them was the red-haired woman, soaking wet from the heavy rain. They made eye contact—or at least he thought so, as she glanced sideways through the window, but it was unclear where she was looking. They climbed inside the carriages immediately, and the carriages once again began to move.
"You good now?" Trent asked, sitting down beside Ashran and placing his crossbow below them.
"Yeah, already," Ashran replied shortly.
"Is it to the east?" asked Sir Hector. Beside him, the Lady listened attentively, arms crossed and legs crossed as well.
"Yes, Sir. Although there are many of them hanging around, I believe if we push through, we can make it. And there are guardsmen at the other end holding their ground," said Trent, his voice sounded determined.
This confirmed what Ashran had told them. Sir Hector turned to Ashran and nodded slowly, acknowledging the value of the information he provided.
"Since we're almost near there," Sir Hector continued, his tone serious, "I expect all of you to protect the Lady at all costs—"
"There's no need to," interrupted the Lady.
"But still, m'Lady—"
"Just make sure there won't be too much hindrances along our way, and that would be enough," said the Lady, gesturing with an open hand to halt his unnecessary worrying. Sir Hector didn't say another word or argue with her any further, perhaps this usually happens, Ashran thought.
They spent the rest of the time planning their strategy in case of the worst.
A few moments later, the carriages halted once more. They came to a stop in an alleyway between two buildings, beyond which stretched the main street wide enough for hundreds of soldiers to march through the town, flanked by half-timbered houses.
The cobblestones street are slick and darkened from the incessant rain, which drums ceaselessly against the rooftops and gathers in growing puddles along the street.
Sir Hector, along with Ashran and Trent, stepped down from the carriage, and the other mercenaries did the same as well.
What greeted them was something they least expected, and it became clearer as they saw what lay ahead. The occasional bright flash of lightning illuminated the dark sky, casted a glow over the few broken and half bodies lying around. Shattered armors were strewn across the rain-soaked and blood-stained cobblestone ground, along with remnants of barricades and weapons. There were few muskets split in two, and also broken spears as well.
Meanwhile, to their right and not far off, a fierce battle is raging in the middle of the street. The guardsmen are clashing with the Others, the clang of metal against metal and their war cries were clearly heard despite the heavy rain. Some are fighting on horseback, while others battle on foot with axes and shields.
"I expected this enough," muttered Sir Hector. Ashran and the others stood by, waiting for his instructions. Then, he began and called out "Flowie?" as he looked among them.
A woman in half-plated armor stepped forward from the mercenaries. "Here, Sir," she replied.
It was the red-haired woman. Ashran honestly thought her name would be quite nice if not for her attitude.
"I want you to go ahead to the east gate first," said Sir Hector. " . . . You know what to do."
"Yes," replied Flowie, but as she said that, Sir Hector quickly added, "Oh, and take Ashran and Trent with you," looking at both of them who were standing beside him. Talk about luck, Ashran thought. Meanwhile, Trent didn't seem bothered by that.
"Now," Sir Hector said, "the only thing we need to do is clear a path so the carriages can slide through." As they prepared to set out, he added one last thing. "And if possible, help the guardsmen as much as you can. Alright, let's go."
With that, they stepped onto the main street. One of the Revenants immediately spotted them, alerting their other companions. The first group of mercenaries was the first to engage in combat. They clashed with the enemy as they charged forward, joining the whole conflict. Eventually, the Revenants' attention was split, and they now had to fight both in their front and rear. A few of them started to notice the clashing behind their backs.
Meanwhile, after Ashran, Trent, and Flowie parted ways with the group, the three of them made their way down a narrow path that the carriages couldn't get through. They turned a corner and ran into an alley. None of them said anything until Trent signaled for them to stop. He looked around their surroundings, sensing something, but there was no sign of anyone or anything unusual. "Wait," says Trent, turning to Ashran and Flowie. "Did you hear that?"
"What is it now?" Flowie asked coldly. But then, she saw over Trent's shoulder and noticed a person standing behind him.
"WATCH OUT!" she shouted, but it was too late. A bright light illuminated behind him, and some kind of ripple effect formed in the air, swirling the raindrops.
Trent fell flat, unconscious on the ground. In front of them stood a hooded figure with a silver mask. It was another Revenant.
"Well, well. Rats going astray?" said the Revenant in a deep, weary voice.
Flowie unsheathed her claymore and assumed a fighting stance. And Ashran picked up the crossbow that had landed a few feet away after Trent dropped it on the rain-soaked ground.
The Revenant tilted his head slightly. "Drop your weapons," he said as if commanding them. "You two should join us. We'll welcome the likes of you." He raised his hand as though trying to reach them. But both Ashran and Flowie refused, causing the Revenant to lower his head slightly and his hand in disappointment.
"Too bad then," said the Revenant with his head drooped low. ". . . If you two won't join us," and then he raised his head and yelled with his weary voice, "you might as well be dead!" The heavy rain had now slightly subsided, the droplets becoming smooth and light.
Flowie charged straight at him, swinging her claymore horizontally in an attempt to slice him. However, as she did so, something like a concrete wall repelled her blade, creating a vibrating sound in the air between them.
"It's futile," he said as he watched Flowie make several more heavy slashes, trying to break the barrier between them. The Revenant, as though he'd had enough, raised his hand and swept it horizontally from left to right. In an instant, a spherical wave blasted from his area, throwing Flowie backward. She barely managed to stay on her feet, wobbling slightly as her breathing became heavy.
"You damned Therianths," she said loudly, her eyes blazing with fury at the Revenant.
Thunk!
A sound of a string being snapped was heard near Flowie, it was Ashran, propelling the bolt with a forceful hiss through the air. It flown straight to the Revenant, with a sharp thud in front of him, the bolt bounces. The same happened. It was useless, what are they going to do with an enemy like him that doesn't even get hit because there's some kind of barrier around him?
In a moment, a faint sound of whistle were heard coming from somewhere, then it grew larger as if the sound is coming through them, the Revenant turned around and scanned the area quickly, and then, as though he realized something, a dark green energy swirls around him, suddenly, with a sharp crackle like breaking glass, he vanishes, leaving behind both Ashran and Flowie.
At the same time, Trent, who was lying flat on the ground, regained his consciousness and slowly stood up.
"Trent!" Ashran called out, but Trent ignored him. He walked straight to the person near him, which is Flowie, and did something unexpected. Trent grabbed Flowie by the neck and choked her with his bare hands. Shocked, Flowie dropped her claymore and struggled to pry Trent's hands off her neck.
There was something in Trent's eyes that Flowie noticed, as if he wasn't in control of his own. His eyes faintly glowed with green.
". . . stop . . . him!" Flowie managed to say, her voice barely audible.
Ashran dashed towards Trent, toppling him and pinning him down. Trent's face slammed into the ground.
". . . sorry," muttered Ashran.
"ARRRGHH!! ARRGHHH!!" Trent grunted and grunted like a madman who hadn't eaten for days.
"Kill . . . him. His mind, is being controlled!" cried Flowie, her voice slightly hoarse. She was now a few feet away from them, sitting up unsteadily and leaning against the wall, her left hand on her neck trying to soothe the pain.
"Kill him now!" Flowie repeated.
"No . . . there must be a way," said Ashran, hoping to stop him from berserking. Think, think. He didn't know what to do, but he thought of knocking Trent unconscious. Although he didn't want to hurt him, it seemed like the only option. Ashran continued to pin Trent down, but his struggles were becoming more violent and stronger.
Flowie hurriedly stood up and retrieved her claymore and ran towards the east, not caring about what was happening to Trent or Ashran struggling to pin him down. She didn't looked back.
But just after she left, a carriage, drawn by two horses, arrived. Its wooden wheels creaked and splashed through puddles as it approached. As it neared, the clopping of the horses' hooves grew louder, and stopping in front of them.
The carriage door opened, and Ashran saw the Lady inside. She looked at him and then to Trent, after that she handed Ashran a small vial of potion and ordered to give it to Trent.
Ashran somehow managed to force Trent to drink the potion. His grunts subsided, and he fell unconscious, finally at peace.
"It won't last long," said the Lady. "I'll tell Bethy to look after him later. Now, get on."
With an effort, Ashran managed to hoist Trent to his feet and drag him inside the carriage.
As they took off, several guardsmen on horseback approached, spoke briefly with them, and then passed by. It seemed some of them knew who the Lady was, given how politely they addressed her without further questions. Moments later, Sir Hector, along with the mercenaries—some slightly injured and four badly hurt, and with their numbers significantly reduced—joined them at the east gate. They left the town. The speed of the carriages was unusually fast but still steady.
Ashran hoped that their journey back to Borix would be safe. He didn't want another encounter with the Fiends, not in their current condition. Feeling exhausted, he tried to sleep despite the discomfort.