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15.9% The Master of Seventh Gate / Chapter 44: Chapter 43

Capítulo 44: Chapter 43

The Cold castle, sat on the spike-like Roughton Mountains. Once upon a time its supernal acropolis protected the houses of disuse city from any outsider hazards, but the cold and freezing weather of this highland makes it hard to live, the reason why had been called Roughton for being roughly cold to crackle even the thickest bones. The coal mine on the west side could almost untangle the problem. The main cause for the king and his army wasn't the cold, but the surprise strike.

Although they had one of the old spaceships, but couldn't defeat them only by simple swords or plasma guns. Prince Betria first attacked the armory and the space ship stations right in the middle of the night, slaughtered each guard by the red demonic creatures with two horns on their heads, carrying mauls in hand, Lonisarou named ones and the Loukshisa vampires. He would feed them blood and they likely obeyed him to death. Soldiers who didn't know what loyalty means, indeed!

The watches of walls succeeded to ring the alarms of foreign attacks. That last wish rescued many lives of people also the army could help the city before falling drowning in blood and fire. The king retreated to Cold mounts to make sure Betria won't kill citizens after taking the throne.

The spaceship carrying the children arrived at its destination. They were in the safest place with a roof above after all they had to spend during the twilight. The agents help them out and gave them places to have a seat. Before doing anything they needed warm foods.

The princess took her path along the corridor. She felt the wound itching on her left arm, blood was dripping down the tip of her forefinger. She didn't remember when she got hit. Took the scarf out of the hank over her knife's sheath, tied it strictly over her arm. A woman came along, bowed, "welcome back my lady", and passed her a bowl of warm beef tea. "Thank you, what about the others?"

"We'll bring them soon, please help yourself", she left.

Tamina glanced at one of the children who has found his grandmother. From her gray outfit, she realized that this woman is an instructress. Her grandson seemed around six years old, embraced her tightly.

She approached them kneeled right the way they had seated, "please let him have this beef tea",

"No way my lady, you need it more…" pointed to her arm, "you're wounded", she rejected, but Tamina insisted and she had to accept the command.

"I'm fine, our little soldier must eat first", then grabbed the two sides of her arms gently and added, "Please take care of yourselves the best way you can", smiled and glanced back into his frightened teary black eyes, he was squeezing her grandmother's clothes between his small fingers, leering at Tamina. She knew that child, found him between ruins while he was looking for his dead parents. The man and his wife got murdered by Loukshisa and now the child remained. She rose, feeling shameless to look at them more, she gulped, but it couldn't burst out anyways, to her there was no time for sobbing.

She continued her path, her fineness distant face matched her monolid light blue eyes. She braided up her dark brown hair. If there was no war, in her fine dresses which deserved, she was one of the most beautiful women ever existed, her golden armor had covered by the dirt of green blood and her cape brushed the floor. She was walking between the hurt folk. While she was wounded her people were the priority.

By undertaking her title she had to become a shelter to keep them safe. The great lady that they had named her, always ready to take care of the land from hostility. Her reputation could have been heard mouth to mouth, even from birds.

Now she wasn't the princess they knew. She marveled in the great shock that blew up her life. She was thinking about how to rescue herself from this shame and survive her current plight. These creatures only could appear in nightmares after eating extra, but now they were flaunting right in front of sights. Seeing them in nightmares can thrill your soul let alone see them in real life!

Someone with a thick sound cried out her name by the title, the voice echoed over the endways of the corridor, the Taramusian lady approached to him, "princess Tamina, you're father expecting you please follow me". She waved ahead and followed his steps, "are you fine?" He asked, but was not sure about that question, her appearance had enough words speaking mutely!

"I'm well, just need some good news", she hoped actually.

The commander of royal guards had nothing to answer that wish. Only continued his steps forth. The sounds of those iron shoes hit the stone floor and stroked up, the rare song of battle rang around. They passed a narrow line. The memory of her childhood rose. Strandeer was high far from those days, the friend of her youth era now was a wise strong giant man.

"Your father was worried, I'm glad you are back".

"We must thank you Strandeer for coming on time".

The commander Strandeer was a blackish man from the soil clan, powerful people who got blessed with a divine gift of controlling soil. He numbered as the closest person to princess Tamina.

She shrugged, she didn't feel well indeed. Her body kept fighting for perpetuity, but her spirit got hardly peeved.

"I appreciate it, but still we have defend-less folks out there. We must bring them here before my brother shamble them, actually I've no rest till I find a way, and surely Taramus turned to a hell".

They arrived at a big iron gate. A picture of the wyrm dragon engraved on it. A divine creature for them, an extinct kind which was living and ruling on Taramus long ago.

The two gatekeepers bowed then directly opened the gate. The chains groaned after they entered in. King Atria stood beside his ministers, all-around a petrous table right in the middle. Pillars surrounded them. The reticular ceiling showed the great intelligence of their ancestors. A giant sculpture of the king attached to the backward throne which another dragon sculpted on the edges. The sculpted king holding a sword in his right hand and seeds in another palm passing to his people. King Atria and his courtiers were surveying over the strategic map.


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