Chapter 27: Chapter 22 - Dumbaran Rebels
Argo sat at the table in silence, the books were completely read through.
His dream, came flooding back, in garbled bits and pieces, but that was enough.
Normally, it would impossible to do so, but he realized, that he had been speaking in his sleep, and Constance having heard him, must have asked Lunston for books regarding the things he was saying, to try and understand what was going on.
In doing so, and leaving them here, he had managed to remember, what happened in his sleep.
The girl's temperature was rising, and he kept her close, as he sat, staring at the flickering flame of the fireplace.
He didn't want to stay in Avancia for too much longer.
He felt the girls forehead, she was laid beside him. It was very hot. But, he knew that she needed to be hot, for it to pass faster.
Soon, a calamity would fall on Avancia, and the whole of the Hollow Mountains.
The source of the monsters, that seemed dead, but continued to fight, and roam about, like the Headless Monkeys and the desolation of the whole of the Hollow Mountains.
It could only be a Tyrant.
A Corrupted Tyrant.
He had known, but didn't know where it could be. But… his thumb rubbed the book titled, 'The Lonely Flower.'
It was written like a child's story book, and at first, he believed that it had been slipped in by accident, but he was certain it had meaning.
Any footnote in the main three titles, was traced and the book was found, of which, this was one such cross reference, that had made it into a history book.
The story of a Lonely Flower, that wanted to be loved by the Giant's, that it so idolized.
He shut his eyes.
There was no way to prove it definitely, but the dead creatures still walking, and even attacking people, was too strange. Not to mention, the headless nature of all the monsters in the area, as well as how organized their chaos was.
But the greatest tell, was that they weren't fighting eachother.
Monster's thirsted for blood, not only human, but of eachother. Though human souls seemed to take priority in chaotic situations, they did not hesitate to shed blood at other times.
But, they hadn't.
It was too strange.
He had seen this, only once before, in the dungeons of the Imperial Capital. A man went berserk tirelessly, in the cell adjacent to his own, smashing everything he could.
When Argo eventually left, after his lessons days later, he saw the man was still thrashing, despite having no head on his shoulders.
He had chalked it up to hallucinations, due to the circumstances, but, it was too much to consider it so now.
Did the Empress have a hand in what was happening here?
He hazarded a guess, that it was unlikely, and didn't pursue it further, as nothing good could come of it.
Once the girl was healthy enough, he would leave.
Constance and Awick would be fine, even if it was a Corrupted Tyrant, Awick was a strong Master, so long as nothing out of the ordinary happened, the Warriors and Knights they took, would be enough.
Lunston likely knew that there was something dangerous down there too, but he hadn't gone to accompany them, which meant he also thought they had enough power.
He assuaged his heart, like that.
The girl was steaming.
Her little hands gripped his clothes, he drank some water. He wasn't certain what to do. He had never been helped when he was sick before, and no one around him ever got sick either.
This was a first.
He knew that the high temperature would subside once the infection was gone, but he didn't know how to speed it along, though he assumed all the sweating would dehydrate her, and had a cup of water on standby.
"..."
His ear twitched.
She had said something, but he hadn't caught it. It was so quiet, that, he couldn't hear it. He cursed internally, and relaxed his body. He quieted his own breathing, by slowing it down.
Her breathing was like a drum, in the quiet room, which was only distorted by the sounds of the people in the streets outside.
Her grip on his clothes, grew stronger.
He lowered his hand, and put his on her little back gently. Her breathing was shallow. He recalled his own experiences and spoke calmly, "Take bigger breaths, or you'll have a panic attack."
He sipped his water. He wasn't sure she would speak again. And he wasn't going to push it.
If it was meant to be, then, it would be so. He heard her breathing grow labored, but, longer and deeper.
He wasn't sure if it would help, but it tended to help him.
Constance would be in trouble, if not for Awick who travelled with her, which allowed his calmness.
Someone was standing at the door, but hadn't knocked, or made themselves known. He didn't turn his head.
He knew they were there, since he had heard a pair of footsteps stop at the door, but he didn't know who.
If someone broke in to kill him right now, he knew that there would be no way to defend himself properly, with the girl resting her head on his lap.
He allowed the girl to remain laid down, and he stood up, but she grabbed his pants, when the door flew open!
Reaching for his saber, he lifted the girl and threw her aside, a fall being better than a stray attack, he quickly judged his outcomes.
Throwing her had left him open, but using the book he had on his lap, he tanked the dagger, before throwing the whole book back!
He unsheathed his saber, when a chill ran up his spine, and he ducked, cutting backwards, he saw blood, that was not his own.
Someone was inside.
His eyes scoured the whole room, but they seemed to be gone. But he didn't stop there. His Violet Aura didn't manifest fully, solely on his eyes.
His nose twitched.
He raised his saber!
CLANG!
His knee's buckled! A sword clashed against his saber, and cracked it! His pupils shrank, and he angled the saber, causing what was left of the power from the sword to slip off, before self destructing the aura in his saber, and letting it go.
Shrapnel flew everywhere!
His head ached. But his eyes found the intruder, who was stuttered for a moment, after the ruthless blast of metal, reaching them, he grabbed their shirt, and with his other hand, punched a hole in her their head!
He struck again.
And again.
And again.
Their sword slipped out of their hand.
Until their head was nothing but pieces of skull barely holding together he didn't stop. Crouching down, he picked up their sword, and turned, looking around the room.
There was no one left here.
"Girl. Come out." He grabbed the sheath, and started assessing his own wounds. Who would have the nerve, raw power and skill, to launch an attack like this?
He moved slowly, not wanting the shrapnel in his body, to cut him worse. He turned his head, "Girl. Where are you?"
His jaw slowly started to tighten, his grip on the sword handle and sheath, were tight, he lowered himself.
The smell of raw iron hung thick on the air.
"Girl."
She was not in her blanket. And she was not coming out. He hazarded a glance at the corpse. The room was empty, including the girl.
He cut open the clothes of the corpse in a single swift motion. His eyes narrowed.
Dumbaran Rebels.
"...Why…?" His mind juggled the possibilities, but his splitting headache returned. Suddenly calling forth his Aura, was not something that should be done lightly, and the backlash was heavy.
But he didn't fall. He walked to the door, with an even demeanor.
If Dumbaran Rebels had come, and attacked him, it was because they knew who he was. Which meant someone amongst the Western Section recognized him.
But, Dumbar's old territory, sat on the other side of Karlan, from the Hollow Mountains, in the Valley. There was no reason for Dumbar Rebels to cross to Hacury.
And for what reason would they take the Girl? Were they mad? Why didn't they come more, to kill him, the Fourth Prince of Karlan?
He reached the door, and held onto the frame, turning his head down the street. People had gathered to come look at what had happened.
An older woman, who met with his eyes, flinched.
His sword was dripping fresh blood. He scanned them. Any of them could be a Dumbaran Rebel, he was certain that someone among them, was with them.
He walked back inside, and crouched before the corpse, putting his hand down their head, and into their throat, he clenched, and dragged the body back outside.
The crowd backed up several meters with horrified faces. He threw the body before them.
"...This is the fate of Dumbar. A disgusting bunch of subhuman animals," Argo had a frightful grin scrawled across his face, "A group made up of nothing but failures."
He swung his sword, and cut the corpses back open. He swung again, and cut it in the reverse. He walked over and above it, and then chopped was left of it up, infront of everyone.
But he wasn't interested, in how he looked, at that moment.
He needed to find the Dumbaran in the crowd and capture them, to find out where the Girl had been taken to, if she was not already dead.
They would find out his identity, if the Dumbaran's told everyone. But, at this moment, he had a duty to the Girl.
He did not like taking half measures.
Hate.
He turned his head. His pupils were slits.
"Found you."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Wordlit_Sonata
Wordlit_Sonata Good evening.
My cold continues. I almost didn't write today. It seems to be getting worse. I can't think at times, since it causes too much pain.
Thank you for your support, and as always,
Enjoy.
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