The armored guards exchanged uneasy glances, hands gripping the reins, their voices carrying over the clatter of hooves.
"Stupid kids. What do they think they’re doing?” one muttered, his tone laced with derision.
“Hell do I know?” replied his companion, shifting uneasily in his saddle and looking up. “But those stupid children up there aren’t making things any easier.”
“Should we report that? Do you think they might be… you know, assassins or something?”
The second guard scoffed. “Whatever they are, they ain’t warriors. Did you see them? They were as skinny as nails.”
Great. These two were as dumb as bricks. The only problem we had now was, well, there was no way of ending this peacefully. The base/prison was much too close, and we had to get Malor out.
CONNOR: Camille. Get ready. We’ll have to do some killing.
CAMILLE: Killing?
CONNOR: No choice.
CAMILLE: …
The guards turned around a corner, a decrepit section of the city with dilapidated homes. Crumbling facades of forgotten homes lined the streets, their broken windows gaping like empty eyes. Shadows swallowed us as we moved deeper into the decrepit district, a cloak of darkness perfect for the ambush. The windows were too small and with no lights, no place for us to be seen.
I directed my thoughts toward Alynna and Lariel, making sure they got my message.
CONNOR: Now.
The first arrow sliced through the night with a whisper, piercing the neck of the guard next to me. His head snapped forward as he slumped in the saddle, blood spilling down his armor in a dark cascade. His horse brayed nervously, stumbling as its rider leaned against its neck.
The second guard, barely ten feet ahead, turned at the sound. He saw his companion falter and opened his mouth to yell, his hand darting toward the horn at his belt.
A second arrow buzzed past. It struck his chest plate with a sharp clang, ricocheting harmlessly into the night.
Shit.
This wouldn’t be good.
But just as his hand grasped the horn, a horseback figure in armor raised a halberd and sunk it right in between his teeth with so much force that it almost pushed him back from his horse.
[DAMAGE INFLICTED: -14].
[MOUNTED GUARD HP: 0/12]
Camille pulled her halberd back with a swing, letting the man drop to the ground.
That prompted the two remaining horseback guards to spur, reposition their weapons and charge at her.
“Hey!” shouted one of them, digging in his heels and preparing to swing his axe.
Then, arrows buzzed from above, one striking the neck of one of the guards. The other bounced against his companion’s armor. I unsheathed my blade, spurred on my horse, and charged at the distracted guard, my sword slicing across the unprotected section of his neck.
[GUARD HP: 11/12]
[DAMAGE INFLICTED: - 15]
[MOUNTED GUARD HP: 0/12]
[3] EXP points were added to my stats. I summoned my information, and noticed I was just 4 points away from reaching level 3.
[EXP: 16/20]
Camille had the other guard all for herself; he charged, pointing the spiked end of his halberd at her, like a knight during a joust. An arrow flew down from above, missing him by an inch.
“Camille!” I shouted, immediately regretting mentioning her name out loud in the middle of the street. I spurred onward, knowing it’d be too late.
The enemy galloped undeterred, with Camille herself spurring on her horse, aiming her spear forward. In less than the blink of an eye, she adjusted her position. The moment they were close, with the spike aiming for her chest, her halberd made a quick swing, deflecting her enemy's weapon, then quickly positioning the wide blade of the halberd at the man’s neck.
It went through with ease, cutting into his neck pushing him off the horse, blood spurting out and splashing the moonlit cobblestone.
[DAMAGE INFLICTED: -12]
[MOUNTED GUARD HP: 0/12]
[EXP + 4]
[YOU HAVE LEVELED UP]
LEVEL 3
[NAME: CONNOR]
[MODE: TACTICIAN]
[CLASS: KNIGHT]
[LV 3]
[EXP: 01/30]
[HP: 11/13]
[DATA]
[STR] 3 [SKILL] 3 [SPD] 3 [LUCK] 6 [DEF] 2
Great. It’d been a while since I had leveled up. I was advancing slowly but a bit more HP were welcome.
Camille braced herself on her horse, circling around the fallen man, whirling her halberd, and sinking the spiked end through his neck.
This woman was full of surprises.
“Wow,” Camille exclaimed, looking around. “What’s that thing that pops up around me with numbers and stuff?”
“It’s a way to become stronger. I’ll explain later. Let’s get your brother.”
We didn’t even need to open the door when guards burst out of it—three of them. One of them got an arrow through the eye as soon as his boots touched the cobblestone.
The other two unsheathed swords and went for us. I dodged, parried a blow, and stepped back.
“I’ll tear your head off, you fucking traitor!” he hissed, trying to thrust his blade into my neck.
His sword arched at my neck, but I dodged and fainted by aiming at his eyes, then went for his kneecap, sliding in a precise arc. He mumbled in pain, his knee buckling, when I waved my sword upward and took off his head in one blow. That hadn’t been my plan, but blood sprayed all around, and his body collapsed to the ground with a clang.
[EXP + 4]
Kind of a grotesque thing to see.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The other guards soon succumbed to arrows, with one of them being on the receiving end of Camille’s halberd spike.
I immediately saw numbers flash around her, and a mauve aura wafting around her like smoke from a fire.
[LEVEL UP:]
[NAME: Camille von Einhorn]
[CLASS: Knight]
[LV 3]
[EXP: 03/10]
[HP: 9/10]
[DATA]
[STR] 2 [SKILL] 3 [SPD] 4 [LUCK] 4 [DEF] 2
She looked down, seemingly surprised at the development. But that didn’t stop her at all, and she inched forward to see her brother.
“My boy!” she exclaimed, climbing into the carriage. Malor was tied up with ropes, his forehead bulging with an ugly bruise and a black eye. She immediately reached for a knife at her belt and released him. “What were you thinking?” she asked.
I turned around, dragging one of the bodies into the carriage, blood dripping and staining the wood inside.
“What are you doing, Connor?” Camille asked.
“Let’s get Malor dressed in this.”
The young king shook his head. He wasn’t even looking at us, which told me he was more concern about his own failed attempt at finding support than at our suggestions.
“They didn’t believe me,” he said, disappointment in his voice.
I let out a sigh. This kid was mourning and being all moody when he still had the entire city guard chasing after him.
“Now you see, your majesty?” I mumbled. “You should’ve trusted us. Now, you can make up for it and putting on the damn armor.”
I shut the door behind us and made sure the boy got dressed.
I cleared my throat, looking through the grid and hastening him. “I can see them now, your majesty. We’ve gotta get out of here. Dawn is breaking soon. We’ll take horses and get the hell out.”
Malor nodded in silence, putting the helmet on his head. I frantically reached for the grid, discovering that indeed, there were reinforcements coming. Someone had tipped them off.
We moved out of the carriage, me pulling Malor onto one of the guard’s horses. Camille mounted her own, covering us as more guards spilled out into the streets.
We mounted and spurred hard. The grid pulsed in my mind, lighting up with enemy positions—more guards than I’d anticipated. They were closing in from all directions, creating a tightening noose around us.
We moved to the right, trying to get away from where our enemies were coming from. I looked for a solution. Perhaps riding far away and getting off the horse, pretending to be looking for the runaway king ourselves.
I looked out through the grid. They weren’t yet on our heels. People were coming out into the street. They’d probably give the guards enough of a description to get us chased and killed.
The grid shifted in my mind again, glowing red lines converging closer to our position. Those guards weren’t just searching; they were hunting.
“They’re closing in,” I said out loud. “Move, but keep it steady.”
“Where could we go?” Malor asked.
The grid shifted again in my mind, more guards converging toward our last known position.
“Church?” I asked. “Maybe a section close to the market, where if there are suppliers moving in and out we could pay a few coins.”
Malor spoke, leaning forward in his saddle. “I know a place that should be safe; in fact, it’s part of our escape network.”
Camille let out a sigh.
“Really, Malor? Do you think this is a good idea?”
“What is it?” I asked sharply.
“A tavern,” Malor said.
“Are they even still open?” I asked.
“Oh, they’re open forever,” Camille replied. “Not that… I’ve ever… been in one.”
I cleared my throat. “Whatever we do, let’s get changed again. It looks like they’re following our trail. They must be looking for three funny looking guards.”
We’d have to leave the horses. Shit. This was one of Kent’s horses. They wouldn’t track them, I hoped.
His horses were not branded, as far as I knew. And ideally we’d have to change again. I had a quick idea. I’d seen clothes hanging out to dry in the city. We’d have to find something that didn’t draw attention. And get changed.
I veered off course at a corner, signalling for the royals to follow me. Laundry lines hung low, fluttering with the faint breeze, heavy with civilian clothes: tunics, veils, hats, and shawls. There was a large array of clothes, and even hats hanging out to dry in an affluent looking neighborhood. I slid out my knife and cut through the line, clothes falling down into the cobblestone. I rounded them and sliced the other segment, pulling all of them together and riding away. I snatched a hat from another line as well.
CAMILLE: What are you doing?
CONNOR: Stealing clothes. We’ve gotta change.
CAMILLE: Excuse me. How do you expect us to do that, exactly?
CONNOR: There’s another little garden two blocks away, with bushes thick enough to provide enough privacy, your Highness.
CAMILLE: I… Well, yeah, why not.
We moved into the park, dismounting once we were close to the park, diving into the trees and changing quickly. I had grabbed the brownest and most boring tunic I could ever find.
My heart skipped a beat when I saw guards rushing around the garden, however, they didn’t draw closer. We continued dressing up, hiding our armor and weapons in between the leaves, hoping that it didn’t look suspicious at least while the sun was low. I was glad I hadn’t brought my elven sword, instead, I’d taken one of the standard city guard’s gladius, and had to leave it behind, keeping just a concealed dagger.
Camille’s dress looked a bit too small on her, especially tight around the chest, but she countered it by wrapping a shawl around her unique locks.
Malor emerged with an oversized tunic and baggy trousers. He looked frustrated and beat up as hell. I was lucky I’d gotten that hat, and rushed to put it over his head.
The three of us moved through the winding alleys, our steps quick but measured to avoid drawing attention. The streets ahead began to fill with life as dawn’s first light broke over the city. Vendors were setting up stalls, their chatter and the clatter of wares creating a mask of normalcy.
LARIEL: Guys? Where are you? The sun is rising soon. How are you planning to get out?
CONNOR: We’ve just changed clothes. I see you’re still close to that bakery. Come closer to the main road. We’ll probably meet at a certain tavern.
CAMILLE: Tactician, please consider this thoroughly. I’m pretty sure our uncle disclosed all of our escape routes to the bad guys.
CONNOR: What’s the chance we don’t disclose who we are? And it’s an escape route, isn’t it? Besides, who disclosed the escape route, do you know for certain?
CAMILLE: Our mother and father knew. I guess it was Malor because those sorcerers knew the secret passages.
CONNOR: It… might not be as secure as you thought. I found out the secret passage using magic. Maybe we’ll ask him.
I faced the young king, wide-brimmed hat still shielding his eyes.
“Hey,” I said under my breath. “I apologize for my lack of formality, but we’re not in a place to be saying our names or titles. I suggest you pick a name. What should I call you?”
The boy looked up, hesitating for an instant.
“I…”
“Call me… Reagan,” I said. “Just for now.”
“A name?” he said softly. “Ron? Perhaps? It’s the first thing that came to my mind.”
“Alright, Ron. Look. We’re thinking of going into a certain tavern that’s supposed to have an escape route for you. Is there a chance that it’s compromised?”
The king shook his head. “I don’t think so, Tactician. It should be a well kept secret.”
I looked him straight in the eye. “Your sister said you might have revealed the passages in the castle, unwillingly or without bad intention, to your uncle…”
He sniffed, as if offended. “I did not do such a thing! Never! I have no idea how they discovered it, but I’ve never said it to anyone.”
“Then, that’s good enough for me,” I replied, spurring again.
I continued the way Camille pointed, conversing with her through the group chat about what name she’d like to take. She chose to be called Mila, and her reasoning was that they used to call her that name when she was a child.
I spotted the tavern ahead, its sign swaying gently in the morning breeze, with the name Aria’s Promise. Yeah. They had to be loyalists. The place looked old, its wooden exterior weathered and its windows dimly lit. The perfect place to disappear.
We slipped inside, the heavy door creaking as we entered. The smell of stale ale and damp wood filled the air. A handful of patrons sat scattered across the room, nursing drinks despite the early hour. The barkeep, a burly man with a thick beard, glanced at us briefly before returning to polishing a tankard.
We took a corner table, shrouded in shadows. Camille sat with her back straight, her hand resting casually on the hilt of a dagger. Malor slumped in his seat, doing his best to look like a man defeated by the weight of life.
The barkeep approached, a wary eye on us. “What’ll it be?”
Camille cast me a glance.
The tension in the room felt palpable, though no one seemed to suspect us—yet. I opened the grid in my mind, watching the guards move closer. They’d reach the area soon, but would they suspect this particular inn?
“Bread and… tea?” I mumbled.
“One serving for each?” the man asked.
“Yup.”
Camille cleared her throat, exchanging a glance with Malor.
CONNOR: What? Do you have a password?
CAMILLE: Yes. I… think we could at least try. The guards are far, aren’t they? And you can tell us in advance if there’s any danger.
CONNOR: Go ahead.
She looked at Malor.
The young king cleared his throat.
“Excuse me, good sir… Is Master Tantor’s mother’s sister’s child still working here?”
The man didn’t react for a second, but the moment he did, it was as though he’d seen a ghost.
He hesitated, his tongue flickering in shock.
“—He comes on Tuesdays.”