Chapter 44 – Oddity of a Lady

“Go and Cut the throat of the snake.”

That would be easy, he thought before. But yet here he was leaning his elbow against a fence. In front of him was a group of Knight Templar’s that managed to surround him. He, a Lord of a Were Clan. It was the ultimate dishonor to be. But the enemy managed to clip his ships wings. All the confidence that he had in trusting any machinery was done and over. He was enthusiastic once but now he had no love for them. Not at the end of his life.

“Oh, so this is the noble lord that crashed his flying vessel?”

“Hmm, I expected the Templar’s to come at me. Yet what is this? A little noble lady comes near me while surrounded by armed Templar guards?”

“Oh my, pardon for being neglected by the important ones,” she grabbed the ends of her skirt, bowing gracefully. “I am Dolce, of Alva, I have come to see and meet this noble lord.”

“An Alva to boot, another snakes come at my feet,” he spat on the ground. “I’ve been defeated by the mighty Templar’s yet I now face an Alva brat. What do you want?”

“Nothing really,” she smiled, taking tiny steps while holding a gun in her hand. “You know Mister whatever Lord you are of a certain clan- oh don’t bother telling me – because I couldn’t care less. You see, there’s this thing called loyalty to your homeland. My homeland crosses the path of the Holy Midland and the Freelands. Do you know what’s my city called?”

“Aequilavium City, a fine city, if it wasn’t for any human presence there it would have been a majestic one.”

“At least you know,” she smiled, approaching, the barrel of her gun aimed at him. “So you see, due to this my Alva Clan had the status of being dual citizens. My clan has been questioned a lot. For our trade, and which side we truly loyal are. And do you know what the answer is?”

He looked at Dolce with his fierce eyes. “You are like dogs that lick those that had bigger bones and meaty treats.”

“That’s actually funny,” she giggled. “But wrong.”

She pointed her gun at his knee and pulled the trigger. There was a loud gunshot which was followed by the noble lord of Cagan wincing in pain.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

“For the fierce glare I thought you’ll not shout like this,” she harrumphed disapprovingly. “But I guess a bullet to the knee really hurts?”

“You bitch! How dare you!”

“Oh my, what a tongue do you have your poor little noble, it must be hard. Being clipped from the sky, surrounded by the good men of the Thorn Legion and then looked down by a frilly skirt noble lady. How disgraceful, shouldn’t you consider killing yourself already? How can you live like this?” she said, reloading her gun.

“You sadistic piece of shit,” grunted the Noble Lord. “You Alva pieces of garbage are all the same!”

“Ah, that’s where you are wrong,” said Dolce with her brows meeting. “By no means am I talking to you like this out of evil. You see, I was quite fond of just watching the battle and enjoying the fresh vineyard smell of the village that you just crashed through. I mean, I can understand escaping from battle. But how could you just crashed down a vineyard and order your men to kill the villagers who welcomed me with a wonderful wine when I visited here? They were great men and women and their products were great. Yet they now lay dead, their product lost and their recipe gone. So here I am punishing and making use of these bored Templar Knight’s that clearly wanted to honor their God. Now I gave them a chance in exchange for this justice.”

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“You are a derange lady! I demand the proper treatment that a prisoner of war should!”

“A prisoner of war?” she scoffed. “I don’t remember hearing or getting any decree of war from the other. You there, the one with the silver bangle, may I ask you something?” she called.

“Yes, milady?” said the Templar. “What do you need?”

“Did we get a decree of war from these fine people?”

“No madam, I don’t think so.”

She nodded. “I see. Now, what’s the usual punishment for people like him?”

“They are considered rogue agents. This invasion they are to accomplish is considered unethical and violates the treaty of war established by the God of War himself. This man is nothing more than an assailant and has no rights to plead the treaty of war.”

“See?” she looked smugly at the noble Lord. “He says that you are a rogue agent. And thus you do not have the right to be treated as a ‘war’ prisoner. You are an assailant, a rogue criminal that crossed the borders of a nation and murdered a group of villagers who makes fine wine. Ah, really, it saddens me to think about the lovely wine that I’ll never able to taste.”

“Absurd!” shouted the Cagan Noble Lord. “I’ll not fail because of some noble bitch!” He stood up trying to grab Dolce but she took a step back and aim at the noble Lord's other knee.

“GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

The noble shouted in pain as the bullet pierces his kneecap. It made an awful crunching sound. Blood seeped out of the noble’s knees. He was crying and despite his status and calmed attitude once. He was now having a hard time accepting his death at the hands of some she-devil noble.

“You see dear Lord. I may be a bit of strange, but that’s what I was. I have many lacking things. I do not consider myself evil. It was just that the people near me were rather twisted and apathetic. But I am a lover of freedom and of nice things. I’ve only slept with one guy and it was even a slave!” she laughed mockingly. “But you see I am fond of both of my homelands and people who brew good wine. Peasants they may be are, but you killing them made me angry.” she gave this cold look. “I will not kill you. But I will make sure that you will be handled by these angry men. So go ahead boys, you can now do your justice.”

With that, Dolce holstered her pistol and walked away from the Templar’s who happily lynched the noble. Her maidservant walked with grace towards her master.

“Are you alright milady? This seemed like too much to do for you.”

“Forgive me,” Dolce made a wry smile. “I got angry. Have you made contact with the gravediggers or any priest?”

"Yes, milady,” she bowed.

“Good. Make sure that these fine winemakers get their burial. They deserve it.”

“I understand.”

Dolce then walked towards her carriage with an aloof face. Her hair bounced  as she painfully misses the taste of the wine that the village made for her.