Elara's heart raced as she faced the unfamiliar man, his presence both alarming and oddly comforting. "W-what? Who are you?" she stammered, instinctively stepping back. The man before her, with a blend of gratitude and recognition in his eyes, seemed inexplicably linked to Lord Cedric of Havenbrook, yet she couldn't place him.
"It's me, Arion, but also Cedric," he said, his tone infused with a sincerity that seemed to bridge worlds.
Her mind reeled. "What? How? How can I believe that?" Elara's voice was a mix of disbelief and curiosity.
"I told you to seek out Havenbrook, didn't I?" he reminded her gently.
Silence filled the space between his words.
"And I confessed my feelings for you," he continued, a vulnerable admission hanging in the air.
"Oh Goddess... but how?" Her confusion deepened.
"The full story is complex, and even I haven't fully unraveled it. Let's set that aside for now. The urgent matter is that you and the others must escape the country immediately," he implored, his expression shifting to one of solemnity.
He spoke of a man named Raven, a sharp, dangerous figure lurking in town with the power to arrest them—and him, in his current guise as Cedric.
"I'm somehow merged with Cedric for the time being, caught in this limbo until my other self's task is complete. And it seems this identity wants to play lord here," he explained, unraveling the mystery of his dual existence.
Elara struggled to keep up. "So, you're saying he's... inside you?"
"In a way, yes. It's akin to having another's cravings influence mine," he attempted to elucidate. "Imagine craving a slice of cake so intensely, not because you want it, but because he does. It's a bizarre feeling, knowing another's desires can sway your own."
"And who is Raven?" she inquired, hoping for clarity.
"The new king sent him. I assumed you might know him," he said, the puzzle growing.
"Possibly Albert has some insights," Elara considered aloud.
"I've arranged for your escape to the Gaul Empire. It's time," he declared decisively.
"Understood. I'll gather everyone," she responded, spurred into action by his unwavering resolve.
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The air was charged with tension as Raven's men assembled, their faces etched with anticipation and unease. "Have everyone gathered?" Raven's voice, authoritative and unwavering, cut through the silence.
"Yes, sir," came the crisp reply.
"Good." With a nod, Raven signaled the beginning of the clandestine meeting. The doors shut with a definitive thud, sealing the fate of those within. In the room's heart, Raven stood, a man whose sharp intuition had carved his path through the shadows of intrigue and power.
"Men, our intelligence suggests the Lord of Havenbrook is conspiring with the runaway princess, plotting their escape to the Gaul Empire tonight. We have a chance to catch them in the act," Raven disclosed, his voice low but filled with resolve.
A murmur of concern rippled through the room. "Sir, we're in his domain. His supporters could easily outnumber us," one brave soul dared to voice the collective fear.
Raven's gaze hardened. "I'm aware. Yet, for the King and Everhart's future, we must face whatever comes with courage, even death," he declared, his words ringing with a call to valor.
"Our initial strategy to turn the town against him through accusations of corruption has shortcomings. He is well-regarded here," Raven continued, the gravity of their task dawning on everyone present.
"But fortune favors us tonight. Capturing the Lord assisting the princess is our key to exposing his treason. Resistance on his part will only justify our actions further," he strategized, outlining a plan fraught with peril and promise.
The room fell silent, the weight of their impending mission hanging heavy in the air. To execute a Lord was no minor feat, fraught with dangers both seen and unseen. Lord's existence meant Town was under protective barrier. Kill one and it's at the monster's mercy. If the reason for execution of a Lord isn't justified, the executioner becomes the executed. Treason however was a justified reason. Reason enough to even punish the town.
"Men of Everhart, will you stand with me? For our King, for our freedom?" Raven's voice boomed, a rallying cry in the face of uncertainty.
"Aye! Aye! Aye!" The room erupted, a chorus of loyalty and determination. The die was cast, their path forward clear, illuminated by the fierce resolve to uphold their kingdom's future at any cost.
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Beneath the vast expanse of the night sky, cloaked in darkness yet illuminated by the ethereal glow of the moon—a light that mimicked the sun's radiance—six shadowy figures made their silent exodus from the confines of Havenbrook. The moment their steps carried them beyond the main gate, it shut with a resonant thud, sealing their departure into the cold embrace of the night.
The air was crisp, the kind of chill that whispered of unseen mysteries and ancient tales, as they quickly found solace in a wagon discreetly laden with various goods. One among them took the reins, steering their makeshift vessel towards the uncertain sanctuary of the Gaul empire's borders.
"Ah, Cedric, it seems I've finally caught you," Raven mused with a sly smirk, his voice cutting through the night's silence like a knife. "Not only aiding a fugitive but dabbling in smuggling as well?" His command was swift, signaling his followers to initiate the chase.
As the wagon wound its way along the serpentine paths, disappearing into the dense embrace of the forest, a multitude of pursuers emerged from the shadows. The distant stars twinkled like the eyes of the universe, watching as dozens of figures disembarked from their hiding spots among the trees, their movements silent and swift. They descended with the grace and determination of hunters, blending into the night as they set off in pursuit of the wagon, their presence merely hinted at by the occasional rustle of leaves and the soft thuds of their footsteps on the forest floor.
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As they neared the Gaul Empire's borders, within a mere kilometer of salvation, disaster struck. Raven, with a gesture as swift as it was malicious, unleashed a fireball that found its mark on the wagon's rear wheel, shattering the fragile peace of the night.
The wagon came to a jarring halt, the driver catapulted forward, rendered motionless by the sudden impact. The remaining five figures emerged, a silent testament to their defiance, their hands raised in a gesture of surrender under the chilling gaze of the night sky.
Raven watched, a look of grim satisfaction on his face, as his men encircled the group with a precision born of rigorous training. The escapees were quickly restrained with mana-bound cuffs, disarmed, and forced to their knees, the cold ground beneath them a harsh reminder of their failed attempt at freedom.
"Our doors are open to all who seek refuge from life's tempests. However, we do not harbor those who evade the hand of justice. The affairs of the crown are a labyrinth we tread lightly around."
Raven repeated the words of Cedric when they first met.
"Isn't this what you had said Lord Cedric?" Raven asked
"You're wrong. I'm just a merchant," the man replied from beneath his shroud, though his stature betrayed his true identity as Cedric.
Raven couldn't help but smile. "A lord can indeed take up trade, but smuggling? That's beneath you, Cedric."
Silence followed, thick with tension.
"So, that's it? You'll just give up? Trying to protect your town, are you? With your treason now clear, why shouldn't I end you here?" Raven's voice was taunting, almost expecting Cedric to beg for mercy.
And then, as if on cue, the man threw off his shroud, pleading, "Please, spare me, sir. I beg you."
A smirk spread across Raven's face, only to vanish when he saw the man's face clearly. "W-who are you?" he demanded, taken aback.
The man remained silent, prompting Raven to order, "Uncover them all."
As his men revealed each captive's face, Raven's hope deflated. "Where are Cedric and the princess?" he demanded, his frustration mounting.
"Who?" the confused captives responded, adding to the chaos.
"Cedric, you'll pay for this," Raven cursed, realizing the gravity of his mistake. "We must hurry back to the town. That traitor of a slave trader misled us."
"What about these people?" one of his men inquired.
"Just lock them up," another suggested.
"No time," Raven snapped. "Let them go with a warning. We must move fast, or we'll lose our true targets." The urgency was palpable as Raven rallied his men, their mission far from over.
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Raven, with his closest aide by his side, galloped furiously towards Cedric's Manor, leaving their companions trailing behind in the dust. Bursting through the doors, Raven's voice echoed through the grand halls, "Cedric, reveal yourself!"
Dorian, the epitome of calm and composure, gracefully entered the hall to face Raven and his intruding men. "Lord Raven, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit at such a late hour?" he inquired with a polite nod.
"I demand to see your Lord immediately," Raven commanded, his patience wearing thin.
"My lord is currently resting. I would kindly ask you to return in the morning," Dorian replied, his voice steady and unyielding.
"Is he not here? I insist on seeing him now," Raven pressed, attempting to catch Dorian off guard and confirm Cedric's absence.
Dorian met Raven's gaze firmly, causing an involuntary step back from Raven. "My lord is asleep, and I would prefer not to disturb him," he stated firmly.
"Arrest him," Raven ordered, frustration boiling over. His men quickly encircled Dorian, who surrendered with a resigned sigh.
"You may think you're clever, but not against the King's men," Raven scoffed at Dorian, who remained dignified in silence.
With Dorian now detained, Raven's search intensified. They scoured the manor until one of his men audaciously entered the master bedroom, only to be sent flying out.
"How dare you invade my privacy!" bellowed Cedric, emerging in full nobility, his demeanor a mix of sleepiness and annoyance.
Raven, drawn by the commotion, confronted Cedric, his frustration peaking upon realizing his intelligence was flawed and Cedric was innocent of any treason.
Sweat beaded on Raven's brow as he stammered, "We had reports of the fugitive princess hiding here."
"Are you willing to swear on Goddess Galadria's name?" Cedric challenged, knowing the grave implications of such a vow.
Raven, caught in his deceit, let out a manic laugh. "You've outplayed me."
"Dorian, summon the town guards. These men need to cool their heads in the dungeon," Cedric ordered with authority.
As the guards apprehended Raven and his men, Raven's laughter echoed, "This isn't over, Cedric. I will have my justice."
Once alone, Cedric turned to Dorian, gratitude in his eyes. "Your assistance was invaluable today. How long will your potion protect them?"
"Two days, my lord. After that, things will return to their natural state," Dorian assured him, his loyalty unwavering.
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The man who had taken a harsh fall, finding himself unceremoniously left to regain consciousness on the cold ground, was none other than the slave trader entangled in this web of deception and intrigue. As he awoke, a blend of confusion and realization washed over him, piecing together the events that led to his current predicament.
He had ventured into this scheme driven by vengeance, armed with information that Lord Cedric intended to aid the princess and her entourage. It was this nugget of intelligence he had eagerly shared with Raven, seeking to manipulate the circumstances to his favor. However, fate had a different script in play. Caught in the midst of what was supposed to be a lucrative smuggling operation, he had personally ensured the anonymity of his associates, draping them in shrouds to conceal their identities. His meticulous scrutiny confirmed none resembled a woman, let alone a princess in hiding, leading him to believe they were not the target Raven sought.
The realization hit him with the force of the blow that had knocked him unconscious. His group had unwittingly become a decoy, a clever ruse to distract Raven and his forces. This stroke of unintended genius saw Raven's meticulous plan unravel, chasing shadows while the true quarry remained elusive.
The irony of the situation was not lost on him. In his quest for revenge and profit, he had inadvertently played into a larger game, one where his actions contributed to a diversion that shielded the very individuals he sought to expose.
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The moment had arrived for the unveiling. It was time to disclose the events that unfolded in that room upon Cedric's initial arrival.
"I have devised a strategy; now, pay close attention to what I'm about to say," he declared.
***Two days later***
The five 'men' who came by wagon were now safe in the Gaul empire, far from the new King. They were staying in an inn, and as they sat together, they changed back to how they really looked.
It started with Roland, then Elara, followed by Seraphina, then Albert, and lastly, the innkeeper from Havenbrook town. This innkeeper, named Mark, really looked up to Cedric. After the Lord of Havenbrook started exercising more, Mark, pushed by his wife to lose his big belly, joined in. He became Cedric's gym friend, and they ended up looking quite alike. When Cedric needed his help, Mark was very happy to help. Now that he had brought everyone here safely, he planned to find smugglers to take him back to Cedric to help him again.
"Such a shame Arion couldn't be with us," Roland lamented.
"He could've gone to the Galadrian church with us. We might have uncovered the nature of his connection to the dungeon and possibly found a way to send him back to his origin," he further explained.
Elara, still puzzled, chimed in, "According to what Arion... well, Cedric, shared, the real Arion is in a deep slumber, somehow directly linking to the goddess system. Despite his attempts to explain it to me countless times, I'm still trying to grasp how he manages all this."
Albert offered a comforting thought, "I believe destiny will reunite us when the time is right."
Roland glanced at Sera, who seemed overwhelmed by the recent whirlwind of events. In just a few days, she had encountered a creature of immense power and intelligence, labeled a demon lord by the goddess, yet something didn't sit right with her. She suspected a misunderstanding. Elara's recount of his proposition to negotiate hinted at his profound insight into divine workings, elevating him above their mere mortal conflicts. He had extended his help far beyond what was expected.
Sera felt a deep sense of gratitude not towards a deity, but towards Arion himself. Yet, Arion's deeds bordered on the divine. When Goddess Galadria took control in the dungeon chamber, Sera was conscious but powerless over her own body, a puppet to the goddess's will. Witnessing Cedric under a similar, albeit more stable influence, added layers to her contemplation.
Albert redirected the conversation towards their immediate situation, "Now that we've arrived, princess, we can focus on our original plan. Do we seek official sanctuary, or would you prefer we stay under the radar, avoiding attention until it's safe to return?"
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