They were led deeper inside the base, passing through long corridors, and rivers of sewer water canals. At the far end of it lay a small, but very dimly lit room. Their escort disappeared.

The walls inside were plastered with very crude maps of the stronghold, battle plans, a chipp table at the center, and small knives pinned up with drawn descriptions of various warlords and goblins of interest. Anything from enemy positions to notes of investigation.

It was clearly used to stage assaults and attacks on the ‘rebels’ of Kara-dum. Though it really needed some serious organization, whoever commandeered it was a slob.

Standing with his back towards them, a tall hobgoblin stood in the dark, his hands behind his back, fists clenching, tapping his foot on the ground. As he turned, Garrick recognized the chiseled face of the man, who in turn, narrowed his eyes on Garrick. He could feel the tension in the room severely skyrocketed.

A tall hobgoblin with a grizzled face turned to face them, his piercing red eyes narrowing as he took in Garrick's face. The tension in the room skyrocketed. Garrick froze, his heart sinking as recognition dawned.

“Captain Rhorin?” Garrick asked, though his voice lacked conviction.

The Captain looked grimly at him, not the warm welcome he was expecting. “Well, well, well, look who it is. Tunnel boy, sewer slobber, runaway.” His insults were targeted, clearly referring to the well incident. “I had a strange feeling that I would eventually see you again.”

“Are you real though, an imposter perhaps, a drone used to probe Kara-dum,” he growled at him.

Garrick was confused, the last time they had met, he had been at least amicably diplomatic if you can excuse the execution threat.

“I’m sorry, I don't understand?” he questioned the man, not knowing what he was implying.

The man’s muscles tensed, and a magical aura, surrounded his body. Blue and very much like dancing flames. Rhorin lunged at Garrick, right fist aiming head-on first for collision. Wynald interrupted attempting to block the assault, but was thrown against the wall like wet liquid. Papers flying all about.

“Wait stop–!” he called out to the man. But newfound instinct had taken over. Drawing on all his mana, he took Azul’s lesson to heart. He jumped out of the way but for some reason. Phased into the air, just out of reach, the explosive punch missing by a meter or so. He stumbled, barely finding proper ground, he fell to the floor, heart pounding, he’d wasted his mana again.

“Magic step!!!” Rhorin shouted. His eyes narrowed, his eyes awfully suspicious. “ You’ve been hiding more than just your identity haven’t you.”

Garrick who lay on the floor rebutted. “I’m not hiding fuck all!” he snapped, but his voice was uncontested.

Rhorin stepped forward, his lip curling. A scowl on his face. “Explain to me now! Why I saw you being escorted into the palace earlier. Explain to me why I saw a witch dig you out of the rubble! Explain to me where Princess Duanna is!!!”

Was that her name?

Garrick stopped. He found it hard to breathe with his depleting mana disappearing. Rhorins words hit like a sledgehammer on a wooden table, accusation after accusation.

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Rhorin didn’t wait, lunging forward once again. Pinning Garrick against the plastered wall with his hands, each hand like a metal cuff. He tried breaking free, but his futile strength failed him. His chest worsened, and he felt a sharp pain coursing upwards.

His breath came out in short gasps, like asthma.

“You okay, Garrick?” Wynald uttered with alarm, the big man himself struggling to get up, deciding whether it was reasonable to charge the hobgoblin or to deescalate the situation. “Let him go, man, let him breathe, You’re gonna kill him.”

“That ‘s captain to you, mutant.” He insulted his subordinate, returning his stare to Garrick’s puffed-up face, his increasingly wheezing breathing intensifieying. His scowl eased, but his grip remained all the same.

“What’s wrong with him.”

‘Maybe let him speak for fuck’s sake.”

He eased his grip.

“Cursed by a human, cursed by his blade, one of the attackers.” he struggled to choke out the words. “Mana..low… I die… need food and sleep, replenish…become stronger.”

The captain softened his expression, frustration still burning in his eyes.

“Did the witch give you anything?”

He nodded, but couldn’t speak any further.

"Perhaps she is a spy. The royals got too attached to these human sorceresses. Perhaps I shall pay her a visit."

"Leave her alone, she is harmless."

"To you maybe, grown attached have you, is your little weeny bewitched by the human's beauty."

He let go of him. Wynald rushed towards the collapsing Garrick, glaring at the hobgoblin.

“That was unnecessary.”

“You greens forget your place, know that when order returns, the hierarchy will as well.”

“Perhaps if you keep going on like this, Only ruins will remain.” Wynald countered. “Senseless aggression.”

“The irony of that statement. It is your kind who refuse to stop acting like barbarians, which is why we rightfully use you, teach you, enlighten you.” the captain. Threw a pen on the ground. “You’re friend is lucky I didn’t do anything worse. I’ve observed him from afar, and reread the incident on the well, I’ve every right to be suspicious of him. He was a sniffling rock-picking coward not too long ago, now look at him. Using mana to evade me. Do you think that is normal Wynald? Or are you in cahoots with his Cabal!”

“No, clearly not, the well changed him. That’s all there is to it.”

If only he could speak for himself. Maybe reveal the truth. How would they react to Azul? And the opposite.

“Enough nonsense,” Garrick blurted, pulling himself together with Wynald’s help. “They took her, the attackers, a man with long hair and spear, green eyes. He led the attack.”

His mind jumbled as if putting two and two together. Rhorin slammed his fists together. “And what did you do, nothing?”

“I tried stopping them, with the blade she gave me, said I needed it in the future. That’s when he stabbed me with the spear. Cursed me.”

“What blade!”

“It was old and rusty, bluish light escaped from it.”

The captain stopped. “Super Mythril!”

“Where is this blade?”

“In the palace, I think it broke, when the explosion went off, I saw a shard of on the roof of the palace, I was heading that way before I encountered my friend in a predicament.”

The tension in the room calmed down, Rhorin exhaled heavily and stepped back. Sitting on the chair, looking him up and down, a bit unconvinced but finding some truth in his words.

“I don’t know why the princess, entrusted you, called you, stumbled into you. But she clearly saw something in you. I am going to give you an offer and you will accept it or I will kill you myself.”

Wynald stood up pissed off.

“Not very civilized are we now?”

“My options are getting thinner, and that Orc warlord’s host is getting stronger! I need a trump card. An ace, a hole-in-one. A miracle.”

“I was hoping to give Garrick here a place to rest and some food to eat, thought he be good to the cause but perhaps I was wrong, Captain.”

“No he can stay, but he is going to do me a little favor,” Rhorin whispered.

“Various warlords are springing up left and right in the ruins of Kara-dum. You’re unknown factor Garrick– he paused as if he was misremembering something. I want you to scout out this warlord’s base, I’m running thin on green soldiers and my hobs will be indiscriminately killed. Get in, get information, get out. And I’ll do what I can do ail you ill.”

Garrick stared at him, body trembling. “What if I refuse.”

“What if you stopped living.” The captain threatened.

“I want two days to do this, I need to see Lady Cidonia first. She’ll help me with ailments. Then I want a place to sleep. And some kitchen rights. I need fuel to live, food is fuel.”

“Done, fair is fair. I apologize, Garrick, my temper often gets the better of me.” The captain did a whole 180 but kept a stern demeanor.

Garrick fell on his ass, his eyes staring at the plastered wall. Catching sight of something he now hated.

“Krobber!”

“You know this fool?” Rhorin asked.

“He is the one who threw down the well, I want his head.”

“And you may have it, but you’ve hardly learned some mana techniques. Have you even attained the first stage yet? I heard that these warlords have been ‘enhanced’ by orc shamans from the outside world. You’re not standing a chance against him.”

“I kill him, you’ll see!” Garrick said confidently, coughing up blood. He straightened himself though his limbs felt like jelly.

Wynald patted him on his shoulders.

“Let's get you something to eat.”

They walked out of the war room.

“Don’t make me regret this Garrick.” rhorin spouted.