“Alarm! Ala-” Right by the tree line one of the hirelings had gotten his head cracked by a metal club and slumped to the ground, dead. A big brutish looking man with red hair emerged from the tree line holding his large club over his head. Bandits. The man let out a rumbling roar and slammed his club into the ground.
“You’re all surrounded,” his voice boomed, “my men cover every exit you might take, all that you must do to keep your pathetic lives is lay down your arms and give up your goods!” The rest of the men were at a standstill; they didn’t want to lay down their weapons, but they didn’t want to make any sudden movements because they were surrounded by a bunch of bandits not showing themselves. Sophia still had her target in her sights, and she let her arrow loose, hearing a voice cry out, “there’s someone hiding in the forest. Find them!” Sophia immediately moved to cover behind a tree.
“Get down and hide somewhere.” She whispered, Archonius ducked down and crawled near the tree she was kneeling by, she nocked another arrow and aimed it at another black furred object moving towards them, and let it loose, a voice cried out and it fell. “Move further into the forest, if you have a weapon you will need to use it.” She moved further into the forest and disappeared from his sight.
“We need more men on this side! There’s an archer!” The giant bandit bellowed out.
“Fight!” Gregor yelled, and everyone else sprang into action. Battle cries rung out over the clinks and crashes of weapons being parried, blows being blocked by shields and men dropping dead with cries of anguish. Archonius continued to crawl until he was by the first man that was shot, he was covered in a long black fur cloak, he removed the fur cloak and simultaneously brought out his dagger, in case the man was still alive. He was not, the arrow was sticking through the top of his neck, Archonius removed the man’s leather gloves and hurriedly put them on, the man had a silver cuirass which Archonius had to take off the man. He had taken it off and was putting it on when he heard noises, coming closer to him, a voice cried out and another laughed with footsteps that sounded like they were retreating. He put the cuirass on which was a tight fit, but good enough, he patted the man's waist hoping for a weapon better than a dagger, the man had a short sword, and a crossbow. Archonius took the sword because he fared better with a sword than a crossbow he’s never used, but he was curious about the crossbow, it looked like an easy mechanism to use, put the bolt in the sling and press the button.
The crossbow was already drawn back, Archonius patted the man’s sides searching for the bolts which he found in a little case halfway down his left thigh. He unbound the straps holding onto the man's thighs and put them on his left thigh, he tightened the sword on his waist, and tied the hilt of the dagger to the belt he was given so that he could swing around in the same manner Tao Zen Zho did. He saw that the man had shoulder guards which he eased off the dead man’s shoulder and placed on his, then he felt ready. Archonius wanted to practice with the crossbow before going out, so he placed a bolt in the flight groove and held it with both hands aiming at a tree by the other man that was previously shot. He aimed for the trunk right next to a branch and let loose; the bolt's response surprised him, and the bolt landed slightly below where he aimed. He finally felt ready, but it donned on him, he could kill the bandit leader, with the sheathe covered in poison. He dipped a bolt into the sheathe, holding it up to the moonlight seeing it glisten green and purple, and slotted it onto the flight groove. He crawled by the tree line a few paces away from where the giant bandit was bashing his club on a red vulture, the man was clearly dead, but he was still bashing his club on the man's head watching and relishing in the blood and brains splattering on his face. Archonius snuck up behind a tree, almost breaking the tree line; he had a good position at the bandit leader’s right flank, and the leader didn’t know he was there. He aimed for the base of the bandit’s neck knowing he would get either his shoulder or torso, but with the poison he would instantly kill him.
He fired, the bolt raced through the air almost at its target, but it melted in midair a hairs length away from his shoulder, the giant bandit looked up and smirked, “the archer in the trees, so you’re the one who killed my men!” The giant bandit picked up his metal club and charged at Archonius who dropped the crossbow and quickly unsheathed his sword, as the giant came barreling swinging for his head with his heavy club. Archonius was barely able to block it with the blade and it sent him flying into the dirt and bushes by the tree line. His hands were ringing from blocking the blow, but he didn’t have time to recover as the giant came jumping on him swinging down with his club battering the blade as he successively swung down on it yelling. After Archonius blocked all blows, he stomped on Archonius’ stomach, the cuirass absorbed some of the impact, but it still sent him reeling.
The moon overhead had started bubbling and its color was filled red, blood red, Archonius’ eyes glossed over with a milky residue, and he was blinded at first, but when it cleared up everything was red again, “sorcery!?” The giant bandit exclaimed, backing away, Archonius rose to his feet feeling refreshed, his arms stopped ringing and the cut of flesh he got from his sword wasn’t burning, but he could feel tear droplets. Archonius looked at his face through reflection on the sword and saw that his eyes were flaming red, his pupils were bright red flames, his eyes were on fire and his tears were drops of fire. Archonius looked at the giant and saw that his number was a measly 49 compared to the number that was above his head which was still 721. Archonius began to sneer at the giant, the giant tightened his hold on the club and swung at Archonius who effortlessly blocked it with one hand, he grabbed ahold of the top of the club with his free hand and turned the club into red dust which he inhaled in a breath of relief. The giant turned tail and ran, with Archonius sauntering after him grinning from ear to ear.
“Yes, run.” Archonius said to his own surprise. He could speak again, finally after such a long time, he could finally speak. The giant ran out to where the battle was adjourned hollering.
“Help! Monster! There’s a monster! It's after me!” The men that had won that battle were the Red Vulture mercenaries and they had taken a few bandits, including the sorcerer they had hidden away captive, they had just finished binding the men when the giant had come running out of the woods yelling about a monster. They readied their weapons in a skeptical manner, but tightened their hold on their weapons as a red and orange light approached the tree line from the direction the giant emerged. A man’s laughter could be heard from behind a tree where the light was emitting, a gloved hand reached out and grabbed a tree, upheaving its roots and pushing it to the side, it was Archonius standing there with a grin on his face, he looked like a different person his eyes were burning a flaming red and orange and fire was dropping from his eyes scorching the earth. The giant scurried and ran off into the woods on the other side of the road, screaming on and on.
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“Get him.” Archonius echoed in a low tone, hooks burst out the ground and pursued the giant, his blood curdling screams could be heard as he was dragged back in front of Archonius. “There is no running, there is no leaving.” The giant had hooks sticking out his tendons, he crawled to Archonius’ feet and begged him, crying and pleading for him to not kill him.
“Please, don’t kill me, please, please, please,” the giant was sniveling and crying, “I’ll do anything, just please.”
“On your knees.” The giant got on his knees, hands at his side, prostrated. Archonius placed his feet on the man's fingers of each hand, crushing the bones. He tilted up the man’s head and made him look him in the eye and planted his sword right by the giants right arm. “Your soul is mine.” Archonius held his head in place with his free hand and placed his right hand on the hilt of the sword, the blade erupted in red and orange flames scorching the dirt, it was so hot that the dirt was disintegrating into a burnt black sand letting him slide the blade through it. Archonius slowly slid the blade through the giant’s right hand watching him howl and beg for his life, then he picked up the blade and slid the blade through the giant's head searing and severing it from his blood gushing neck spout. He held it up to the sky and the blade twisted and bended till in the moonlight. The men were astonished and frightened, this sorcery was beyond what anyone had ever seen or heard of.
“You were a sorcerer?” Gregor asked abruptly, Archonius glanced at him as if he was looking at a lesser being.
“No, it's just a curse.”
“And you can talk?” He asked, astonished.
“Yeah, I just found that out.”
“Aside from their giant of a leader that’s now dead, we have three bandits and a sorcerer.” Gregor looked visibly upset, and lowered his head, “and we’ve lost most of the hirelings, a good number of my mercenaries, maybe a good quarter I’d say, and your father.” Gregor was doing his best to show empathy to Archonius who was stunned and froze in place. For Archonius his lifeline was gone, he didn’t love his father nor truly know what love meant, but he liked him. Tychonius would occasionally talk to him, crack jokes with him, and even give him a snack while he waited on the platform, most residents never interacted with Archonius, or more they interacted with him less and less over the years. Only his father would come back, and he even got him a job, when he didn’t need to, and now that he’s gone there wouldn’t be any use for him going back to the city. “Do you want to go back to Carcas?” Gregor asked. Archonius thought long and hard, he looked each and everyone of them in the eye, the moon was losing it's red color and was fading to white.
“No.” He whispered, his voice fading out till all that came out was air. Archonius started to feel drowsy and slumped over one of the caravans exhausted. Demurion came over and pulled Gregor into a corner out of earshot, eyeing him flatly. While Ten Count and Tower checked on Archonius.
“So? What is it?” Gregor asked sharply.
“You killed Tychonius.” Demurion said with disappointment in his voice.
“Can you prove that I did?” Gregor scoffed.
“No, but I know I saw him alive somewhere near you, and suddenly you’re reporting that he’s dead.”
“So, you’re blaming me for his death, after an ambush? He had a sword too, I assumed he knew how to use it.” Gregor said, crossing his arms.
“Just tell me whether or not you did it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know you, and I know that you hate people like him, with what Archonius just exhibited he would fully exploit his son being some type of sorcerers experiment or lethal monster for Satire as long as it put bags of gold in his pocket, but I know what you would do with that power as well.”
“Oh yeah, and what is that?” Gregor said surprised.
“Don’t act dumb, your son died because of your risky and reckless tactics, and Archonius looks relatively similar to your son, and now he has some sort of power that is greater than the normal man, it's not that hard to figure out.”
“You may be right about Archonius looking like my late son, but!” Gregor said quietly, “but that does not mean I would take advantage of him.”
“Alright, just be sure of that.” Demurion left Gregor standing in the corner who unsheathed one of his knives and looked at it glistening in the moonlight. It was covered in blood, the red blood dripping off the hilt and on his gloved fingers. Gregor unsheathed his sword; it was a curved sword that the men of Dauntuzz crafted that was quite privy to their culture. It was a regular sword that curved at the tip of the blade, so that it mirrored a hook. Gregor retreated into the forest walking around bushes and a bit deeper into the woods until the faint glow of the campfire was but a distant star in regard to the dark trees around him. He made his way to a tree that had drops of blood smeared on its trunk and a trail of blood over a bush. He followed the trail until he came to Tychonius.
“I’m surprised you’re still alive,” Gregor said, peering at Tychonius who had legs deep in two holes, and both hands clutching around his bloodied neck, “Are you alive?” Gregor said, waiting for Tychonius’ chest to pump, “Oh great you're still alive, I thought I was talking to a corpse for a second. It’s pretty innovative to stick your sliced tendons into dirt holes, how’d you scoop it? Don’t tell me, do you know sorcery too?” Gregor giggled, smiling at Tychonius who’s brow was furling as he winced trying to move his lips then ultimately giving up and glaring at Gregor. “Hey, don’t glare at me, I’m not the hypocrite here, I’m just helping you help yourself. This was bound to happen, did you see the power he emitted, he has power, inconceivable power, and what were you going to do with it, squander it probably. You can die in peace now!” Gregor did a silent celebration: silently cheering and dancing around a bleeding Tychonius. “Well, that was fun,” Gregor said, holding his sword, “any last words? Oh what, you said thank you, oh well you’re very much welcome.” Gregor exclaimed, chopping off Tychonius’ head, hands and wrists, sending them flying against the tree. “Hm, I can convince him quite easily to join us, it's not like he’s wanted in Carcas.” Gregor said, cleaning the blood from his blade with his gloved hand, and rubbing the blood on a tree, he walked off to join the rest of his mercenaries by their campfire.