Aaron:

“Option 1!” I yelled.

“Run!”

“Option 2!” I yelled again.

“Fight!”

“Option 1 it is. Run!”, and saying so - I took the rearguard since my body could block the passage and summoning a huge tower shield, I slung it on my back and sprinted after Damon and Master, who like slippery loaches were running full tilt in front of me already in the opposite direction of where the soldiers were.

In a moment, my master grunted in annoyance before picking up the running Damon and spitting out a warning to guard himself, ran like a gale of wind.

Picking up my pace behind him, I cursed as arrows struck the walls of the passageway and formed a rhythmic pitter-patter sound against my shield and armor.

Dashing around a corner, I blinked in surprise as Master and Damon had vanished before being pulled inside another tunnel while the door to the same silently shut behind me.

Panting heavily for a moment, we held our breaths as the enemies passed by, feet away from us.

After a minute, we silently appeared in another part of the labyrinth closer to where Galen was supposed to be, and poking our heads out of the hidden opening to the labyrinth, we scouted around with our eyes and then jumped out and stretched our limbs to get the blood pumping again.

Then we cautiously made our way to the residence of Galen, which was right beside the mercenary guild.

Only to stop flabbergasted.

The mercenary guild was having a face-off.

Many soldiers were outside the guild with their weapons pointed towards the mercenaries, who seemed to be pointing their own weapons at... other mercenaries?

Then my jaw suddenly locked in place as I saw the body of Sir Pierre, hands folded over the wound in his stomach and unwillingness written on his face.

He was dead. I could see that at a glance.

The mercenaries who were responsible for that were the mercenaries surrounded by the soldiers.

Sir Patrick paled and then reddened as anger filled him, anger mixed with sorrow over his friend's death.

Just then, the sound of more marching boots was heard and new reinforcements for the soldiers hurried up and joined them.

Now the outraged mercenaries were outnumbered, and they were hesitating.

Seeing that, I bellowed, “For the Draykes!” and charged the soldiers.

Behind me, Master cursed before following me into the carnage.

The mercenaries, caught by surprise, looked on with bulging eyes as two men began a dance of death within the sea of enemies.

Then one of them yelled out,

“It’s Aaron!”

Then another one said,

“What are you all waiting for! He’s in trouble!”

Yelling out as fervently as they could, a portion of the mercenaries charged forth and joined the melee.

The situation was turning. I could feel it, but it needed something more.

At that moment, it hit me!

Fighting my way to Sir Pierre’s body, I cut down the mercenaries involved in his death, and then crouching next to the body, I frantically took off his ring and checked inside while apologizing to the dead man in my heart.

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Then I roared out, “1 gold per enemy killed. Iron ranks get you 2 gold. Silver 10 gold. Gold ranks 100 gold.”

With a murmur that turned into an avalanche of battle cries, the remaining mercenaries howled like wolves and charged into the fray.

The skirmish was being won, and then my heart sank.

More reinforcements.

Not ours.

Bal.

I turned my head desperately only to see a group standing at the side, composed of 7 people with a green-haired man in front who were looking interestedly at the chaos.

I howled out, “Galen, if you join, that’s an extra hundred gold for you.”

“Not interested,” drawled the Green haired man, Galen - our objective for tonight.

Flummoxed, I couldn’t help but ask why.

Only to hear a reply that vexed me greatly.

“Why should I help you? Anybody who can go against the Draykes is probably strong enough to cause my people problems. Even if you pay me a thousand gold, I won’t be able to enjoy it when I’m dead, will I?”

I had to agree with the man, but just then, Master threw a badge at Galen, who looked incredulously at us.

“You’re using it now? Already?” he shouted out.

“Get to it!” hollered my Master as he held off four opponents at the same time.

Sighing, the green-haired man looked at his companions and flashed the badge at them.

Nodding, the six other people suddenly shimmered gold and silver.

My jaw dropped.

4 gold ranks and 2 silver ranks.

Then Galen unleashed his warforce.

Gold rank and almost a weaponmaster.

Thunderstruck, I watched as the 7 formed into a wedge with Galen at the point and pierced into the enemy.

I moved to help them - only to watch with awe as the wedge smoothly turned into a double line formation which moved forward unstoppably.

The first line would be in charge of pushing forward while the second line would cull lives as easily as they would sheep.

Soon, even the mercenaries stopped as Galen and his men rampaged through the skirmish like impatient vultures.

A few minutes later, there was not a single man left on the enemy's side.

None escaped either.

Retracting his armor, Galen walked towards us before yelling out.

“I’m a doctor. Whoever wants to be treated, cough out your money or cough out your lungs. Your choice.”

Gulping, all of us stared at the man, whose face was flecked with blood and looked as fierce as a beast.

Then, tentatively, one person who was holding his limp arm approached him.

2 needles appeared out of the thin air, made of warforce, and then moved towards the man’s arm with lightning speed.

A minute later, the man’s arm was stitched up and he could move it around with just a minor discomfort.

Stunned, he looked at Galen before handing him a money pouch at which Galen beamed genially.

“Next!” He shouted out.

Just then, another small troop of enemy reinforcements came - around a dozen of them.

Impatiently, Galen conjured 12 more needles, which he sent darting at the befuddled enemies - who fell clutching their throats and thrashed around for a bit before moving no more.

Eyes wide, the mercenaries gulped again - more audibly this time.

Then the mercenary who was closest to Galen for treatment slowly began retreating before firming his will and praying to Falka.

“Do it!” the mercenary cried.

“Done!” Galen replied.

And so it continued.

I quickly found the mercenary guild leader and handed him enough gold to pay the mercenaries for their services, as well as another large pouch after discussing a plan with him.

Nodding, we pulled Galen - unwillingly, leaving his gol-patients - and his men before carrying Sir Pierre's body and disappearing into the labyrinth again.

“What’s going on and what’s the plan?” Asked Galen.

“The Draykes are in trouble and we don’t know who is involved, but the Royal Family is a candidate. As for th-”

Cutting him off, Galen held up a hand and asked, “Royal Family?”

“Royal Family.”

Then a string of profanities that made us wish we could cover our ears was spat out by Galen before he muttered, “Must be calm. I am Galen the Calm. Yes, Galen the Calm.”

I watched him with trembling lips, itching to ask him what part of him was calm, but I restrained myself and then told him the plan for escape - well, at least up to the part that I knew about.

Nodding, Galen said, “If you didn’t have the badge, I would never have agreed to help you. But since I have, there must be an end goal. You want safety? Tell me where safety is and I’ll get you there.”

Looking at me, Master said slowly, “Jacob Drayke.”

With an enlightened look on his face, Galen replied, “Deal. We will get you and your seedlings to Jacob Drayke and then we will leave.”

Hurriedly, Master and I agreed.

Then we moved deeper into the labyrinth.