Novels2Search
Road To Empire
74. The Chosen Hero

74. The Chosen Hero

Mamadou entered the underground corridor, his eyes immediately landing on Bruno sitting on the ground at the other end. The boy had a handful of dried dates in his hand, and it appeared he was chewing on one as well.

Shaking his head, the former assassin couldn't help but smile. The young alchemist had been watching him intently from the start, catching his reaction. After a brief moment to process the information, Bruno slammed his hand full of food onto the ground in frustration.

"FUCK!" he exclaimed, his anger palpable in the air.

Mamadou's smile shifted into a short chuckle, not directed at Bruno's outburst but rather at himself. He laughed at the decision he had made, placing his trust in a foreign boy from nowhere, and this very boy understood the meaning behind this laughter.

"We are not giving up," the young alchemist declared loudly and firmly, his determination evident „We still have options.”

"Options? We can't leave this place. Uncle Said's men and the guards have the docks covered. Everyone is searching for us. We can't stay here either. It's only a matter of time before they discover our hiding spot, not to mention the bodies decaying in one of the cells. We are doomed, boy," Mamadou argued with an eerie calmness, his words carrying a heavy weight.

Despite the teacher's compelling arguments, Bruno continued to shake his head.

"The corpses are not decaying," he pointed out.

"Not yet, but it's only a matter of time," Mamadou countered.

"I don't know about you, but I can't go back to Mamun," the young alchemist stated firmly, voicing his determination.

"We are all as good as dead, not just you," the man replied, getting closer as he walked through the corridor lined with cells.

However, he eventually came to a stop and settled under one of the torches fixed to the wall. Seated on the ground, with his back against the wall he seemed surprisingly comfortable.

"Dead?" Bruno almost snorted. "No, I'm not dead. My fate will be much worse."

"You don't understand, kid. We're all going down, and there will be plenty of pain before that. They need to make an example," Mamadou explained, his voice devoid of emotion.

"No," Bruno persisted, unwavering in his belief. "I'm not talking about torture or examples. I will not die. The crazy old man has plans for me…" His words trailed off, punctuated by a heavy sigh that caught Mamadou's attention. "Look..." Bruno continued, his voice steady. "At some point, I wanted to tell you something important, but I couldn't because the collar would kill me. Now I don't have the collar, so I'm gonna tell you. I've learned what Mamun is trying to do here. That crazy old fart was... Is... in love with a woman named Arabel."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Arabel?” The teacher asked, as the name clearly rang a bell in his head. „You mean the mother of Smenkhkare? Our ruler? She is dead. She has been dead for a long time now," Mamadou pointed out, his disbelief evident.

"She is not dead. They were in love when they were young, but she had to marry a noble, and Mamun had to go to Harothep. When he came back, he learned something terrible. Akhenaten, the previous ruler, couldn't have children, so he was sending servants to fuck the queen. Both Natutkhamun and Smenkhkare were not his!" Bruno explained, his words rushing out.

Mamadou's eyes widened, mirroring his gaping mouth. He seemed unable to process the information, his hand poised as if he wanted to do something but frozen midway. His lips moved, but no words emerged.

"But that's not even the worst part," Bruno continued, drawing Mamadou's attention back. "The old man found a way to transfer minds from one person to another. He took Arabel's mind and shoved it into Hallel! That's why the girl is so crazy."

The teacher kept struggling to comprehend the revelation, as more and more shocking statements piled up, his confusion evident in his reaction. His hand dropped, and he remained speechless.

"I'm still not done," Bruno said, compelling Mamadou to refocus his attention once again. "The old man has a way to give ordinary people magic. I know because I've worked on the process. I even improved it, and then he used it on me."

To demonstrate, the boy waved his hands in the air, causing a subtle shimmer.

"I can't do much yet, lacking practice and knowledge, but I can do magic now. And there are others who underwent the same process before me. Mamun may even have an army of mages hidden somewhere, and he's definitely planning something with that army. He mentioned fixing the kingdom. I bet he wants to kill the king and marry Hallel. I also think he wants to transfer his mind into my body to reclaim what was stolen from him—the love of his life and his youth."

"Are you sure?" Mamadou asked, still in shock.

"He practically told me all of that," Bruno confirmed.

"We need to take this information to the capital," the former assassin said, averting his gaze from the young alchemist and staring into the cell ahead.

"No. We need to get the hell out of here," the boy argued.

"No! We can't let Mamun carry out his plans! This is... This is treason!"

Bruno felt as if someone had slapped him across the face. He tried to take a deep breath but was overcome with frustration. He wanted to scream and destroy something, that's how furious he was with Mamadou. But he contained it all within, not letting anything escape.

And in that moment, a singular idea blossomed in his mind. It wasn't a normal idea by any standard. It was the kind of idea that belonged to a chosen hero, capable of changing the fate of the world. It was a protagonist-of-a-story level idea. A pure stroke of genius.

"I know!" he shouted. "I know what we need to do!"

His words snapped Mamadou's attention back to him, and the former assassin laughed almost maniacally. Yet, their brief moment of elation was abruptly interrupted as the door to Nirav's former room swung open, and Javohir emerged, capturing everyone's focus.

He appeared healthier than before, no longer a mere burden, but still far from being in a useful state.

"I'm in," he declared simply.