Upon hearing the news of Demitra and Mayers' collaboration, Stallone wasted no time. He barked orders to his men, sending them to scour the city for leads or gather any scrap of information about Demitra's whereabouts.
Meanwhile, the Knight Guard himself made his way to the Governor's mansion, a sprawling structure often referred to as a mini-castle due to its towering walls and turrets.
Andrew wasn't far behind, though he kept a safe distance. Perched on a nearby rooftop, he crouched low, blending into the shadows. His crossbow—loaded with an arrow capable of piercing metal armor—rested steady in his hands.
From his vantage point, Andrew's sharp eyes scanned the mansion grounds. He spotted Stallone near the main gate, the Knight Guard's sword resting in its scabbard at his hip. Stallone glanced briefly in Andrew's direction, a subtle nod passing between them. Andrew returned the gesture, their silent understanding unspoken but clear.
Stallone approached the guards stationed at the entrance. Though Andrew couldn't hear their words, he could tell from Stallone's firm posture and measured movements that he was presenting a reason to enter. The guards hesitated for a moment before stepping aside and escorting him inside.
Andrew tracked their progress as far as he could, his gaze following their figures until they disappeared beyond the heavy wooden doors of the mansion. His grip on the crossbow tightened as frustration bubbled within him.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, shifting his position on the roof. "Unless he comes back outside, I'm stuck here playing lookout."
He settled into the shadows, his eyes never straying far from the mansion. Waiting was never his strong suit, but for now, it was all he could do.
…..
Stallone walked alongside the governor's guards, their silence heavy with unspoken tension. These weren't ordinary escorts—they were Awakened, just like him. Storming the manor was a suicidal notion, one that Stallone wouldn't entertain unless absolutely necessary.
Breaking the quiet, Stallone spoke, his voice steady. "Gentlemen, I assume you're aware the governor may be in danger. There's an assassin hunting him as we speak."
One of the guards glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "We've heard. If it's as you say, it might've been better for us to report it ourselves. However, the governor insisted you be the one to deliver the news."
"Did he now?" Stallone arched a brow. "And why is that?"
"The governor thought it best to explain the matter himself."
"Very well. I'll hear what he has to say."
They continued in silence until they reached the manor's opulent living room. Standing in the centre was Wallace Mayers, the Governor of Pitoa. A short, plump man with meticulously groomed hair and a finely tailored suit, Mayers exuded an air of self-importance.
"Ah, if it isn't the Head of the West Coast Guard," Mayers greeted, his tone dripping with professional politeness. "I must thank you for your diligence in protecting the coast."
Stallone bowed slightly, one knee dipping in respect. "The pleasure is mine, Governor."
Mayers' lips curved into a smile as he gestured to his guards. "Wait outside. I'll speak with Mr. Stallone in private."
The guards nodded and exited, leaving the two men alone in the vast room.
Once the door shut, Mayers turned his attention back to Stallone. "So, Mr. Stallone, what brings you to my manor at this hour?"
Stallone straightened. "My sources indicate you're being targeted by an assassin. Gallagher Demitra is his name—cunning, deceitful, and an Awakened, like ourselves."
Mayers raised a brow, his expression calm. "An assassin, you say? How troubling. What do you propose we do about it?"
"I suggest increasing the guards during the night," Stallone replied.
Mayers waved off the suggestion, taking a seat at a small table set with fine china. "That won't be necessary. My personal guards are more than capable. After all, they're Awakened, are they not?"
Stallone hesitated but nodded. Mayers poured himself a cup of tea and sipped, gesturing for Stallone to join him. "Come now, have some tea. It's excellent."
Reluctantly, Stallone sat opposite the governor and took a sip. The tea was warm, with a faint floral undertone, but something about it felt off.
Mayers leaned back, his gaze sharp. "So, Mr. Stallone, what's your real reason for coming here?"
Stallone frowned, caught off guard. "I've had suspicions about you, Governor. There's been intel linking your name to dealings in the underground market."
Mayers' smile widened, almost predatory. "Ah, so Demitra was right. There is a Knight Guard sniffing around."
Stallone froze, his eyes widening. "What… what are you talking about?"
"The tea," Mayers said casually, swirling the cup in his hand. "It's infused with my sorcery abilities. A little trick of mine to ensure honesty. You've just confirmed your suspicions to me, Mr. Stallone."
Stallone's hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his sword, his muscles tensing.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Mayers said coolly. "You know what will happen if you try anything foolish."
Stallone exhaled sharply, his grip loosening. "What do you want, Governor?"
Mayers leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "I want your silence. More importantly, I want your allegiance."
Stallone's jaw tightened as the implications sank in. "If I refuse?"
"Then you'll be my enemy," Mayers replied, extending a hand. "But if you accept, I assure you, the rewards will be worth your while. What will it be, Sir Knight?"
Stallone stared at the offered hand, his mind racing. He knew the stakes, and one wrong move could cost him everything.
…..
At his vantage point, Andrew tapped his fingers against the stock of his crossbow, his impatience mounting. He shifted his weight, scanning the manor's darkened windows. "What the hell is taking him so long?" he muttered.
Stallone might be in trouble. The thought nagged at him, his instincts urging him to move closer.
"Maybe I'll just sneak a bit closer—"
A sudden crash interrupted his train of thought, and shards of glass glinted in the moonlight as a figure was hurled through a window.
Andrew's eyes widened. "What the—?!"
The body hit the ground with a sickening thud, glass shards embedded in his flesh. Before Andrew could make sense of the scene, Stallone leapt through the same shattered window, landing in a crouch. His sword was drawn, its blade gleaming as he pointed it at the plump man staggering to his feet.
"Shit," Andrew muttered under his breath, gripping his crossbow tighter. "That must be the damn governor…"
Before Stallone could strike, two guards lunged at him from the shadows. Their coordinated attack was swift, and they wrestled him to the ground.
"Damn it," Andrew hissed. "Now or never."
He steadied his breathing, raised the crossbow, and aimed. The tension in the string thrummed through his fingers as he squeezed the trigger.
The arrow cut through the air in a deadly arc, piercing clean through the governor's forehead. Blood spurted as the man's body crumpled to the ground, the shaft of the arrow jutting grotesquely from his head.
[You have slain Awakened Human, Wallace Mayers]
The guards froze, momentarily stunned by the sudden death of their boss. Stallone seized the opening, dispatching one of the guards with a swift strike before breaking free.
Andrew didn't wait to see the rest. He slung the crossbow over his shoulder and retreated from his perch, slipping into the shadows. The plan had gone sideways, but Stallone had told him where to regroup if things went wrong.
As he weaved through the streets toward their meeting point, Andrew's mind raced. He couldn't shake the image of the governor's lifeless body, the pool of blood spreading across the cobblestones.
….
In the dimly lit sewers, the stench of dampness and decay hung heavy in the air. Andrew paced anxiously, his footsteps echoing off the grimy walls.
"What the hell happened?" he demanded, his voice tinged with worry. "This is all going to hell."
Stallone leaned against the moss-covered brickwork, his expression sombre.
"Do you know about the Nightmare Crawlers that raid this place every forty days?" he asked quietly.
Andrew frowned, recalling a conversation he'd had with Brawn Knuckles.
"Yeah, I know. What about them?"
Stallone exhaled heavily. "When I pretended to ally with the governor, he revealed his plan. He wanted me to help Demitra rally the Nightmare Crawlers to attack the city."
"What the fuck?" Andrew muttered, running a hand through his hair. "No wonder you lost it. Did he say anything else?"
"No," Stallone replied, shaking his head. "The moment he mentioned it, I threw him out of the window."
Andrew's eyes widened. "So, you're a wanted man now?"
Stallone nodded grimly. "It appears so."
"What do we do now?" Andrew asked, his voice steadying with resolve.
"We must stop Demitra," Stallone said, his eyes hardening. "No matter what."
…..
Sorry you guys, I haven't been uploading daily, I sometimes just lose motivation and make the story more complicated and not natural. I will still upload chapters but not in a daily basis.
Anyways, thank you for the continuing support you guys.