CHAPTER 17
Duties
Middle Fire Month, 8th day, 10.00
"They keep coming."
Gazef observed the throng of refugees that was massing at the gates of Gelone's fortress gate.
From the top of the rampart where he stood guard, each of them looked like just a small ant, waiting to be crushed. Their despair seemed only a distant matter that did not concern someone as lucky as he was.
"Even today, they came by the hundreds," Iovino observed, remembering the crowds of previous days. A note of bitterness was present in his voice.
"By now, almost all the villages and small towns in the vicinity should have remained empty. Well, if we don't count the Beastmen."
"And their trapped victims." Reiterated his subordinate.
The thought of what was happening to those poor, unfortunate souls caused Gazef's heart to plunge, as he cursed his uselessness once again.
What a coward I am. I should be out there fighting. Not in here, waiting for orders.
"Although it sounds strange to say," Iovino continued, his gaze always downward. "Those poor people waiting to be sorted like beasts were the lucky ones."
"I wish there was something I could do to speed up the process," Gazef confessed, worried that the heat of the day might have harmful effects, especially on the elderly and children. "But I guess these procedures are to ensure that each of them has a comfortable space and a proper meal."
By now, the stronghold had almost reached the limit of people it could accommodate. Continuing at this rate, they would soon have to start preparing escort teams, to evacuate civilians to safer areas.
"It seems that in a few days, the cavalry of the Baharut Empire should arrive to support us." Iovino seemed excited by the news. As far as Gazef knew, the cavalry under the Bloody Emperor's orders was one of the best chosen-corps among the neighboring human nations. "General Barca is already starting to prepare small reconnaissance teams so that he can get a clear idea of what is going on outside."
By now, more than a week had passed since they had found it more prudent to remain inside the fortification while they reorganized their defenses. Nothing of note had shaken their days, luckily. But the continuous arrival of men and women at their gates meant only one thing.
Gazef observed his second in command. Although those last few days had been characterized by a flat calm, the tension that was beginning to appear on his men would have been noticed even by a fool.
I wish I could do something to restore the courage of my underlings. If only I were a more capable commander.
"If the worst comes to the worst," Slaine's captain began, addressing his deputy. "The survival of you and the other members of our unit takes precedence over everything. That is an order."
"You know very well that we can never leave you alone to face those... "
"That is an order!" Gazef was astonished at the authority with which he had given that command; perhaps he was not entirely to blame as a leader.
"Yes, sir!" Iovino replied, slightly astonished by that assertive statement. "You have my word that I will do everything to ensure the life of our squad!"
Birds of a feather flock together, after all. In his situation, I would do the same.
A weight lifted from the ex-mercenary's heart. At least he now knew that his men would not throw their lives away for a war that was not their own.
"Commander Stronoff," one of the Draconic Kingdom soldiers had approached them. "General Barca requests your presence. The war council will begin shortly."
With a nod, Gazef indicated that he understood the call.
"Iovino, while I am busy, oversee the daily training. Also," he pointed to his comrade the crowd massed below. "Check to see if there are any men fit for combat who could be enlisted. Having a few extra reserves never hurts."
"I won't let you down, captain!"
And with that said, the two separated.
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The room where the war council was held was located in the highest part of the castle. As soon as he entered, Gazef immediately sensed the air of anxiety and concern that lingered among those present. Feeling choked for a moment, he breathed deeply to regain his composure.
"Ah, Master Stronoff. I see you have arrived." General Barca welcomed him, inviting him to join the small group. "Now that you are here too, we can begin."
A total of eight people were present, including Gazef.
In the center of the table where they had gathered, General Hamilcar Barca had placed a small-scale replica showing the part of the Draconic Kingdom where they were currently located.
The man massaged his well-groomed goatee as he gazed thoughtfully at the model before his eyes. At his side were two women dressed in military garb, covered in beautiful armor the color of jade.
"I hope I have not kept you waiting too long," the former mercenary apologized. "I got here as soon as I could."
"Nothing to worry about. You are right on time," Cerebrate, who was also present, comforted him. His armor had been repaired from the damage it had sustained last time and had regained its former luster.
The adventurer offered him a hand in greeting. Since they had spent that bad time together in the Weeping Dragon's passage, a certain cordiality had been formed between the two.
"I'd say we have a lot to discuss," another of those present took the floor. Nigun Grid Luin, current captain of the Sunlight Scripture, was certainly not a man who liked to get lost in unnecessary pleasantries, especially while working out a war plan.
"Before you arrived, Sir Stronoff," the man's face was a mask of impassivity. But Gazef sensed that in pronouncing his name, the scripture captain had not been able to help but show a certain distrust of him. "The general was giving us news of the latest sightings of the Beastmen."
"I see," now Gazef had also turned his attention to the table where they had encircled. "And so, what do the latest reports say?"
"Here and here," the general pointed to two parts west of the scale model fortress, marked by a small figure. Probably to indicate points of interest. "The Beastmen have established bases of operations, using the old towns and nearby villages as footholds."
"We don't know what happened to the trapped inhabitants but… " For a moment he lost concentration, as a disturbing image began to peep into his mind.
"I think everyone here has an idea of what happened to the citizens left behind. Please, general, go ahead." Nigun urged him. Indeed, he was right. A detailed description of all the possible scenarios of the fate of those humans would have done nothing but bring down the morale of those present.
"Very well," General Barca had regained his composure and resumed his explanation. "From what we have been able to extrapolate, our opponents are setting up some siege machines. Towers, mostly. But also rams, ballistae, and catapults."
Disheartening news, but not unexpected. Gazef was aware that a siege would soon begin toward their stronghold.
"Do we know how many there are, more or less?" He inquired, turning to his colleagues.
"We can't say for sure, but at least thirty thousand. If not more." Cerabrate answered him, a drop of sweat soaked his forehead.
"So at least twice as many as our current troops. Now that's very good news." Gazef replied with a note of sarcasm. "As for the reinforcements to come from the Empire?"
"Three thousand." The dry answer only confirmed how desperate their situation was. "And I'm sure if things get bad, they have orders for immediate retreat."
This was not a decision to be condemned, Gazef reflected. If the Draconic Kingdom capitulated, the next human kingdom at risk of invasion would be the Baharuth Empire. That the Blood Emperor wanted to lend his support, but at the same time guaranteeing the survival of his troops, was ruthlessly logical.
"I mean, at best we barely have a little less than half of their troops. The advantage that our defensive position gives us is virtually nullified."
If a demi-human soldier was on average physically stronger than a human soldier, that large disparity in numbers would have been too great an obstacle to overcome. Even with the protection that the citadel walls provided.
"We cannot afford a prolonged siege. Our actual supplies cannot sustain us for long; if we were to be isolated, they would barely last a few weeks. And even if we can use magic to at least guarantee nutrients for our troops, that would have a frightening effect on morale."
The food produced by magic guaranteed all the nutrients of ordinary ones. But it was so tasteless that it was a pain to swallow.
How General Hamilcar managed to maintain a semblance of calm was inexplicable.
In his place, Gazef would have already been overcome with despair.
"So, what's the plan?" Cerabrate asked. The anger he felt toward the Beastmen seeped from his every word, impossible to tame. "Shall we go and confront them in open confrontation? I have an old score to settle with that commander of theirs."
"That would be madness," Nigun intervened. Despite having remained perfectly impassive after those last remarks, there was an even greater hatred for the demi-humans in his eyes than that felt by the Holy Knight. "Even with the help of our angels, we would be overwhelmed in no time."
"And so, what do you propose to do?"
"Gentlemen," the general resumed the floor. "We absolutely cannot let Gelone's fortress fall. Should that happen, the Beastmen would have access to the entire western part of the kingdom. At least a third of our territory would fall into their hands, and at that point regaining the lost lands would be an almost impossible task."
"Don't worry," Nigun replied to him with a smile so cold and ruthless that it could have frozen the room. "That's why we're here, isn't it, Khajit?"
"Of course, Captain Nigun."
One of the last two presents, who had remained silent up to that point, started to speak. He was a man not too tall, with a hunched back and a bald skull similar to that of a skeleton. His complexion was cadaverous, as if he were in the grip of some deadly disease.
He wore a long scarlet red robe, devoid of special features. The only thing that stood out was a silver medallion which was engraved with the symbol of Surshana.
At his side was a female figure, also wearing her companion's distinctive clothing, but with a hood concealing part of her face.
Gazef noticed, however, a pair of completely white pupils casting him a look full of curiosity. For a second, he felt himself blush slightly, his cheeks tinting the same color as the robes the two wore.
I didn't expect to be so weak to feminine charms.
He regained his composure, just in time to hear the man resume his speech.
"With my countryman," Khajit's voice had something sinister about it, ringing like a funeral dirge in everyone's ears. "We have prepared a plan that could guarantee us victory. Or at any rate, give us the greatest chance of repelling the invasion."
"Tell us about it." The general urged him.
Khajit began to explain the machinations he had hatched with Nigun, leaving no detail aside. When he had finished, everyone remained silent, unable to utter a word.
"This is blasphemy!" Cerabrate was the first to stir that stalemate. "As a follower of the Four Gods, I cannot accept a plan that goes so against the dictates of my faith. Passes for previous times. But now we are crossing the line!"
Gazef could not fully agree with the Holy Knight's words. But he understood where they were coming from. Surely, many members of the clergy would not accept such an unconventional plan.
Nevertheless, it was probably the best alternative they could count on at the moment.
"Tell me, Cerabrate," Nigun pinned him down, without using any form of honorific. It was clear that he considered him inferior. "What do you fight for? Money? Fame? Honor? Or for the salvation of the citizens of your kingdom?"
"I..." for a moment the leader of Crystal Tear found himself displaced by those not very veiled accusations. "I fight for something greater. For love!"
So, could the stories of the Draconic Kingdom champion's infatuation with his queen be true?
Thinking back to the pretty little girl he had met in the throne room, Gazef found it strange that someone could be infatuated with such childish forms. But according to what he had heard from the tonnage soldiers in the fort, in her adult appearance Queen Draudillon was a woman of incomparable beauty.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
That Cerabrate had fallen in love with her, therefore, was not altogether so strange. Indeed, ballads about impossible loves between knights of humble origins and nobles of high lineage were certainly not uncommon. Both during his days as a mercenary and as a champion of the Theocracy he had heard countless of them.
Usually, these stories had a tear-jerking happy ending with the two lovers who, after overcoming every difficulty, succeeded in crowning their dream of love. But there were also tales with more tragic endings, in which one or more of the lovers lost their lives.
A happy ending, in these hard times, would certainly not be unwelcome.
"If you fight for love," Nigun certainly did not seem to have given more weight to the Holy Knight's statement. "Then you should be ready to make sacrifices. If your feelings are sincere, of course."
"You damn… " Cerabrate seemed on the verge of losing his temper. Gazef sensed that he was about to reach for his sword.
"I'd say it's time to hear General Barca's opinion," the former mercenary interjected, hoping to focus attention on himself. An argument between the two of them was something to be avoided at all costs at the moment. "Personally, although I am not entirely convinced of the success of this plan, I cannot find a better alternative. So, it has my vote. But it's up to you, General, to have the final say."
The questioned man had continued to look at the table in front of him, lost in thought. The women at his side remained impassive.
"I… " he began, trying to be as clear and direct as possible. "I agree with this tactic you have developed. As supreme commander of this stronghold, I am called upon to make difficult decisions. If there were any other way, rest assured that I would follow it. But, for the time being, this remains the best choice we have."
"Perfect," Nigun replied, with a smug expression of satisfaction. "Then I will personally go to the Theocracy to have what we need delivered. In the meantime, my men will be under the command of my deputy, Ian."
The Sunlight Scripture captain bowed slightly before taking his leave. "Don't worry, I will return before those beasts can have time to start the siege." His face contorted into a grimace full of excitement, almost seeming like that of an exalted person. Or of a madman. "The Gods guide our actions, gentlemen. Rest assured that we will triumph over this ordeal."
And having said this, he walked out of the room. The sound of his boots echoed forcefully through the walls.
"I'd say it's time for us to depart as well, there are still many preparations to be made before the fateful day." Khajit apologized. Like his countryman, he too was heading for the exit. "I will bring reports in the coming days to the commander to inform him of the progress of the plan."
Compared to Nigun's proud gait, his walk was more like that of a snake slithering before attacking its unfortunate prey.
The woman accompanying him also took her leave. Before she left, however, she whispered a sentence in Gazef's ear.
"I am very curious to see what you are capable of, Sir Stronoff."
Her words sounded as sweet as honey in the captain's head, who found himself for a moment enveloped in a strange feeling of pleasure.
Before he could reflect on what he had been told, the woman was gone. As if she had never been there.
Still left confused, it took him a few seconds before he realized that General Barca had dismissed his guards and Cerabrate as well. By now only the two men were left in the room.
"Are you staying here, Stronoff?" He asked him indifferently.
"Excuse me, general. I will return to my posts at once."
"Why don't you remain here for a moment to keep me company? I'll offer you a good glass of wine." The man had walked over to a shelf a few feet from the table, from which he had pulled out a bottle of red wine and two glasses.
"Actually, I… "
"I insist."
One glass certainly couldn't hurt. And it would help ease my nerves. Gods know if I don't need it.
After thinking it over, Gazef gladly accepted the glass he was offered. Together with his superior, he savored the drink. The sweetness of the wine tickled his taste buds as he felt slightly intoxicated by the alcohol.
"Good, isn't it?" Hamilcar asked him, although he seemed to already know the answer.
"I am not an expert. But I find it excellent."
"Wine from the vineyards of Re-Estize. The best counselor, in wartime. If he gives you good advice, you can take credit for it. If he gives you bad judgment, you can blame it all on alcohol."
The general let a bitter smile escape as he continued to drink from the goblet.
"A leader who gets too carried away with it, however, could have a terrible effect on the morale of subordinates." Gazef could not help but notice. He too continued to savor the wine.
"Hehe. That's why I like you, Sir Stronoff. You are honest and forthright. You're not afraid to say what you think. You are a man who can always be counted on."
Slaine's captain felt momentarily uncomfortable with those unexpected compliments. He scratched his nose slightly, looking embarrassed.
"I'm nothing special. I don't deserve all these compliments."
"Maybe you're right." Hamilcar looked at him carefully, searching his face for answers he could not find elsewhere. "Do you think I made the right decision? I don't mean from a strategic point of view, but from an ethical one."
"Does it really matter, for a general? In the end, what matters is victory. If you win, you are in the right. If you lose, you are in the wrong. Isn't that how it works in war?"
History was not an impartial judge. Choices were judged after the fact, based on the results achieved. It was not fair, but that was how things worked. And that was always how they would work.
"We men create laws to try to escape this rule. But when we have to face the harsh reality, we are reminded how small and insignificant we are. Every human life is worth the same, but not when fighting. Like the greediest of merchants, I must put a price on the lives of my subordinates, and reason in terms of pros and cons. Of profit and loss."
"Should the Theocracy succeed, perhaps we can finally say goodbye to this world of conflict. And maybe human life will no longer be valued in such inhumane terms."
"Do you think so?" Doubt characterized the general's expression, his face contracted into a grimace. "Even if there were only human beings in the world, do you truly believe that conflict will disappear from the face of this planet? Look at the empire and Re-Estize. It doesn't seem to me that other races are contending for their territory. Yet, they keep fighting each other."
Gazef for a moment did not know how to respond. He put the glass down on the table and looked at the model on it.
"I can only pray to the Gods. A fool like me can do nothing but cling to a vain hope, to give a little meaning to a life full of tribulations."
A mercenary life spent fighting. A warrior's life spent serving. In the end, nothing had really changed.
The same little boy trying to grasp something he could only glimpse, never able to feel satisfied.
No matter how much he kept walking, that light at the dimly shining end of his path was only receding, as if mocking him.
"I wish I had your faith, Sir Stronoff."
So do I.
General Barca carefully stowed the bottle and glass. A small hint of satisfaction might have been visible, were it not for the grave expression he carried with him.
"Now I think it's time for us to part. We both have many things to take care of."
Gazef performed a military salute, bringing his arm to his chest. "With permission, I will return to my duties."
The Slaine captain headed toward the center of the fort, where Iovino and his men were waiting for him. He did not look back.
Middle Fire Month, 15th day, 13.00
Antilene was exhausted. Not even half a day had passed, but she was so bored. It seemed strange, since she had done nothing relevant all day.
But sometimes, even immovability can be a hard burden to carry. Her eyes observed the toy in her hands. A small wooden figurine, which depicted a woman warrior with long, black hair.
It dated back to her childhood, and although the signs of time were evident, it still remained in acceptable condition. It could very well have still made a child to whom it had been gifted happy.
Even though I am terrible with people, I can take decent care of things. I seem to be reliable on this at least.
As she was lost in her thoughts, a burst of unpleasant laughter, similar to the croaking of a frog, crept into her ears.
"Hey! Did you see the way that vampire was squealing? Who knew bloodsuckers could still externalize such human emotions? I wish I could have left him alive a little longer, to continue enjoying his screams full of pain and despair."
A melodious voice echoed through the halls. It was as innocent as that of an infant, although the words being expressed were anything but as sweet as what might have been expected from a toddler.
Antilene had heard by now that dismissive tone so many times that she had no trouble recognizing its owner.
A woman with blond bob hair approached the treasury, accompanied by a small group of her peers. The Black Scriptures.
"Humph, it's not like you've done that much on this mission," a man at her side replied. He was the spitting image of the woman; no one would have a hard time believing the two were twins. "If Edgar hadn't immobilized him, you wouldn't have even been able to approach him. And if I had not given you the ointment to give your weapons the properties of silver, you would not have been able to do even the slightest damage to him, Clementine."
"Blah, blah, blah. You're boring as usual, Quaiesse!" Clementine's face contorted into a sneer laden with derision. "It's not like your pets have been much help, have they? Maybe you're just jealous for being useless as usual? Do you want Big Sis to give you a spanking later?"
"I'd really like to see you try. Although we both know who always comes out on top in a confrontation between the two of us." The brother answered her, with a smile filled with derision.
"Why don't you two finish it?" A man covered with numerous dark tattoos on his face stepped in between the two siblings. "You don't want to upset Lady Zesshi, do you?"
Edgar Kukuhu Beaumarchais, the thirteenth seat, nicknamed the Divine Chain, attempted to mediate between the two. Actually, of the quarrel between the fifth seat, Quaiesse, and the ninth, Clementine, he could not have cared less. Like everyone else present, he was so accustomed to their bickering that he found it almost comforting.
What bothered him was the expression that came close to irritation on the half-elf's face. As the newest addition to the Theocracy's special unit, he was also the one among most of all in whom the memory of his "baptism" was most vivid.
"Don't worry, Divine Chain. I'm not angry." Antilene tried to reassure those who were, though hard to tell, her comrades. "Should Windstride and One-Man Army continue to cause problems, it will mean that my teachings have proven insufficient. I will gladly see to it that my mistakes are rectified, and give them extra time to devote to our training. Don't you find that a very good idea?"
Both Clementine and Quaiesse blanched. Antilene swore she had seen corpses with more vitality than the two.
Edgar meanwhile, had retreated behind the group. Panicked as well, he squeezed as close as he could to a woman with long blue hair gathered in two braids that touched the floor. Like him, the eleventh seat, Infinite Magic, was shaking like a leaf at the mere glimpse of the centenarian girl.
"Nono, we will never allow ourselves to steal precious time from the guardian of humanity. We will correct our bad habits ourselves!" The two siblings replied in unison. Finally, they seemed to agree on something.
And these are supposed to be the heroes of humanity? What a pity. I have seen baby mice with more courage.
"I see that the first seat is not with you," Antilene noted. In fact, Aeneas was strangely absent. "Did the Cardinals keep him with them longer than expected?"
"Not only that," she was answered by a man carrying a pair of giant shields with him. Cedran Talos Michael, eighth seat, also known as Myriad Barriers, was a particularly mighty man with a trained physique and sculpted muscles. "The captain had an appointment meeting with a woman chosen by his family, apparently. He begged us to put down his equipment for him."
Oh, I think he had mentioned that the last time I saw him.
For those who had awakened the blood of the Gods, various pressures were placed on them to give birth to as many children as quickly as possible.
Even though Aeneas had not yet reached the age to be considered an adult by the standards of the Slaine Theocracy, which was twenty years old, ordinary rules did not apply to him. All for the sake of humanity!
In theory, Antilene also bore those same responsibilities. But, both because of her longevity far exceeding normal human beings and the burdensome conditions she had imposed before agreeing to marry, it would probably be a long time before she, too, gave birth to many small offspring. In truth, she doubted that would ever happen.
Maybe, in the future, a Cardinal with enough courage to try to make me fulfill my duties will take a stand. That would be fun.
"I see. And tell me, what did the mission you returned from consist of?" A twinge of curiosity began to sparkle in her eyes. Perhaps the account of their latest adventure would brighten her day.
"Cassandra had located a vampire community in a remote village on the border of Argland and Re-Estize." Saturno Deuxiéme Ensiculus, the second seat, Time Turbulence, responded quickly to the half-elf's question. The puny body and boyish features concealed a sharp and alert mind.
The respondent, Cassandra Sibilla Delfica, seventh seat and best diviner of the Black Scriptures, adjusted the bow she wore on her head, before continuing the speech begun by her companion. The glasses she wore gave her a mature and intellectual air.
"I had a vision of doom a few days ago, and I immediately alerted our superiors." The girl merely replied stonily.
"On the spot," Quaisse continued, the rings he wore on his fingers shining in the darkness of the corridor with a soft light. "We came upon a handful of vampire spawn led by various groups of vampires. At their head was a vampire lord."
"Oh," a squeak of surprise came out of the half-elf's mouth. "The last vampire lord we recorded was more than half a century ago. Was he strong?"
"Not for the captain," Clementine replied. "He eliminated him in seconds. We got rid of his servants in the meantime." The woman could not hide her sadism, satisfaction seeping through her sick grin. "To continue to torture someone who continues to regenerate is indeed a delightful experience!"
Antilene disagreed with that macabre thought, but avoided saying anything. Who was she to judge others' tastes? And as long as Windstride's abilities remained on the side of humankind, she would not have much to say.
"Hum, disappointing. But maybe it's for the best."
Vampires were tough opponents when faced unprepared. Not only did they have numerous abilities such as instant regeneration, Evileye of Temptation, absorption of life force energy, and creation of lesser vampires thanks to vampiration. But they could also boast great resistance to physical attacks and ice element.
Nevertheless, silver could prove fatal to them, and it made confrontation much easier. And certainly, the Theocracy had no shortage of magical items to exploit that weakness.
"It's strange, though." Commented the extra seat. "Lately it seems that the undead in the region have been popping up with increasing frequency."
"The Cardinals think there may be a high concentration of undead in the Katze Plains," a woman smoothed her long blond hair. Her voice was incredibly pleasant and filled with sweetness. Listening to her was like savoring a spoonful of chocolate. "I wouldn't be surprised if we have to go there in the future to do some cleaning."
"Do you think they might decide to let me go too, Divine Chant?"
Frost plummeted over the room. None of the Black Scripture heroes uttered a word. They looked at each other, unable to find anything to say.
"Hehe, just kidding." Her companions looked relieved; a weight was lifted from their hearts.
"So," she continued, now bored with that discussion. "You are here to lay down the equipment of the Gods, are you not? Be my guest."
She stepped aside to let the Black Scripture members enter the treasury. Before her companions could approach, however, she was called by a voice.
"I beg you, Lady Zesshi. Fight with me!" That invocation came from the 10th seat, considered the strongest man ever. Godkin aside, of course. His epithet, Strongest Human, certainly did not shine in originality.
In his presence, even an imposing man like Cedran looked like just a helpless little boy. His towering stature would not have been out of place among giants, and his muscles were so well trained that they appeared to move with a life of their own.
"Oh, cut it out, Samson. You know perfectly well that you have no hope against her." Saturno snorted, exasperated by the man's persistent thirst for battle.
"I'm aware of that," Samson answered him curtly. "But I have developed a new martial art that I am sure will succeed in shocking her. I ask only for a chance."
Antilene observed the man. She had to raise her head to look him straight in the eye. For a moment, the breath of those present remained suspended as a suffocating pressure came from the half-elf.
"Okay," said the girl with heterochromatic eyes. A jovial smile broke out on her face, although, strangely, her self-styled companions seemed intimidated by it. "Put on your guard."
She still clutched her toy in one hand, but did not put it down. It would only have been a useless gesture.
Normally, it would have made more sense to go to the training hall for that mock battle, also to avoid soiling those sacred places. But almost everyone present knew it would only be a waste of time.
"[Earth Shaking]." The mighty ax wielded by the tenth seat glowed a strange brownish color as it came down on the half-elf.
"Humpf." Antilene did not even dodge the blow. The impact of the weapon on her head merely produced a large rumble, without the girl suffering the slightest damage.
The additional seat struck the man's neck, taking the utmost care not to exaggerate her force. It was so fast that none of those present noticed its movement.
The rumble of the impact propagated with extraordinary speed, breaking the sound barrier. An even more impressive dust cloud was raised than that caused by the ax blow.
The man cashed the blow. He smiled. And then fell to the ground like a dead body.
"Well, this time I think it lasted a few fractions of a second longer than usual." Observed Antilene, genuinely amazed by the strength of the Black Scripture member. "Divine Chant, heal him so he can recover."
The woman began to chant a prayer. A divine light illuminated the stunned man. After a few seconds, Samson began to regain consciousness.
"Ouch, ouch," he began to creak the muscles in his neck, still groggy. "I really felt that one."
He struggled to get up, but at the same time happy that he was able to withstand the blow from the guardian of humanity. Well, for longer than usual. Seeing him so smug, even Antilene began to feel infected by his good mood.
It takes so little to make him happy.
"Now I'd say you can enter the treasury."
At her suggestion-or perhaps command would have been a more effective term-the Black Scriptures headed for the treasury room like good, little soldiers. It did not take them long to put those sacred pieces of equipment back in their places, and then they returned to pay their respects.
When they were gone, Antilene was left alone once again. The toy had remained still in her hands. Except for a little dust, it had not suffered any damage from the commotion earlier.
You seem to have remained the same today, too. Like me.
She remained in place. There was not much more to do.