บท 9: Chapter 7 - Specialists

The sun had fallen an hour ago, people were sleeping in their beds.

The Old Sparrow incident had been concluded a half hour ago.

The Ball was in an hour.

He was relaxed in a bathtub in the middle of the bathroom, his arms up on the sides, and his head tilted back, facing the ceiling watching the steam rise.

Normally, such an action of being so open was unthinkable, but the House Knights were in place, alongside the security provided by those nobles who'd brought their own Knights, and the Junior Knights of the Church, which had arrived with Bishop Mel, to attend the ball.

This estate was the most well-defended place in the whole of the region, such an opportunity didn't come often.

That disgusting feeling on his face had also disappeared at last, after bathing for some time, but he didn't want to come out just yet.

It was so comfortable.

He turned his head and caught himself in the mirror through the steam.

His skin was smooth, with scars around his forearms, and peeking just over the water around his chest, he knew there were more on his back as well.

A Prince's physique couldn't be unpresentable, so the face was spared, during his punishments, and education against torture classes.

The memories fell like a thunderclap on his mood, and he shook them from his head to no avail, standing up in the bath instead.

It felt like the water was wrapping around him, the comfort running.

Grabbing his towel off the divider, he wiped himself down, but couldn't help noticing himself again, in the mirror.

Scars on his calves, and some on his thighs, a long gauge across his stomach horizontally, and long healed stab wounds, on his sides.

Meant to teach resistance to pain, the royalty of Karlan all underwent torture, so that if captured, they would have the tools to withstand it, or the resolve to kill themselves first.

The Priests did a fair job at healing but, there was only so much to be done, thin marks remained as a reminder of those times.

Starvation, freezing temperatures, waking beatings, days without sleep, nights without dreams, the only form of torture they were spared was the sexual nature.

However, it was shown thoroughly.

Morals, Principles, Values, and everything else were taught, only after one had learned about the monster.

As people who would rule, they needed to understand the worst of humanity, before learning how to be human.

...He realized his hands had stopped moving, and shook his head hard.

His hands resumed, and he was dry soon enough, stepping out of his bathroom absent-mindedly.

Stephan sat on the couches in his room, since it was expected that his lover would join him in the bath, though in truth he was coordinating movements using his clipboard, while he bathed.

"The Adventurer Guild Master wants to see you, before the Ball."

Argo grabbed a secondary towel, and started drying his hair, "I'm not in any state to deal with all of that."

"I already declined," Stephan scratched something off of the clipboard, and then flipped the page, "You should start getting dressed."

Argo leaned back on his couch, staring at the ceiling with his legs open spread eagle.

He looked like a couch potato.

"...I get ready in less than ten minutes. Stop nagging."

Stephan looked up from his clipboard and gave him a look.

Argo felt it burning into his skull, and shut his eyes, sitting up.

Stephan looked back down at his clipboard, and spoke calmly, "The church has named a new hero. Can you guess who it is?"

"...Fuck off."

"Mhm."

Argo rubbed his temples, standing up, he started to get ready.

Stephan shared the frustration, but continued reading, as Argo got dressed, "During the skirmish at the gate, apparently, Constance awakened by the favor of god, and had quickly become named a Hero, since it can't be suppressed anymore. It's making waves, underground."

"It hasn't even been two hours. How did it…" Argo felt like his head had been hit by a sledgehammer, an annoyed look entered his eyes, "...No wonder Bishop Mel and Spider wanted her. They already knew. It was a secret that got out, and with Spider's movements, Mel and the church couldn't hide it anymore. Constance is more safe, with the information public, making her a harder target to smuggle. Putting her face everywhere, so she's always recognized. No one would dare to overlook her now."

No guard in the Four Lands would have the nerve to see Constance and pretend not to recognize her, and if she was ever taken again, reports of her would flood in wherever she goes.

But a hero…

"Constance will attend the Ball tonight, on short notice. The Nobles also demand that it be allowed. I already approved in your name while you were in the bath."

Argo shook his head, "A Hero… Let's see if I can't get them out of Loch, as soon as possible."

Heroes, real Heroes, were said to be able to recognize evil at a glance and could smell death and disaster, like a bloodhound, a gift so that they might always find and combat the threats to the natural balance.

Supposedly sent by God, or perhaps chosen by some trick of fate, they always stood at the center of every era.

Across the Four Lands, there were six heroes, with Constance, if true, being the Seventh, living, hero.

"Magical Genius and Tyrannical Talent in martial arts. She'll turn into a horrifying weapon of war, if she isn't already. I wouldn't be surprised if they let her get kidnapped, to speed up her awakening, once they saw some chances of it," Stephan leaned forward, putting his hands together, "Let's hope she leaves soon."

Argo put on his last article of clothing and sprayed some cologn on himself.

"Wait," Stephan had a lightbulb moment, and looked up at Argo with wide eyes, "Won't she be able to see the death around you?"

Argo paused.

They exchanged looks.

"...Should we run for it?" Stephan picked up his clipboard, leaning back in the chair, "I can have our luggage ready in less than five."

Argo didn't instantly dismiss it, but ultimately shook his head, "I'm not evil. I only kill criminals. So it'll be fine. As for the death thing, who hasn't killed a few people?"

"I don't think what we've done can be left at just, a few."

"Well, we aren't evil. Now get up. We need to perform."

"I need a vacation."

Stephan felt the color leave his world, as he took a heavy breath, just loud enough to be heard outside the door.

Argo responded with a whisper that was literally nothing, "You'll get one when I do."

But those things would be heard by the servants, and subsequently spread around the mansion through gossip like wildfire, with the Lady March's personal maids' assistance.

Less than a half hour before the Ball, they were still in the sheets and would presumably be late to the ball.

He wanted to be there as late as possible, to escape having to meet with the nobles and give Lady March a chance to freely mingle with the nobles with Madam Inkwell and the ladies, at least, originally.

Now, he also wanted to escape that woman, Constance.

A complete menace of an existence, from the moment a 'Hero' is born, fate seems to bend around them, or so they say.

Where a hero walks, the dead march.

Hero companions, never survive for long.

If not dead, they are as well as.

An unenviable, but necessary fate.

Stephan pushed the frame of the bed, letting it squeak.

He eyed Argo, with a depressed expression.

Argo shut his eyes, he couldn't bear to see his friend like this.

Of all the different scenarios, this was the only reliable way to thoroughly disgust all of the nobles away, like repellent.

He wanted to marry freely, not compelled by anyone.

He wanted to live freely, not be forced by anyone.

Living in the Imperial Capital had been all that he needed, to know that he would rather suffer this incredible shame, acting like a despicable, lazy, incompetent adulterous lord, over being forced to actually be one.

It was not a fate he wished for anyone else, but, it was better to choose one's own suffering, and that suffering right now, was hearing his bed squeak while his best friend stared holes into him.

It never got easier.

He glanced at the time and switched out with Stephan, to let him sit and do his work on the clipboard.

He stared at the clock on the wall, watching time pass at an insanely slow rate.

It was excruciating.

"...A pothole just reported an intruder at the gate, he's talking to the Junior Priests," Stephan soundlessly spoke, with just his lips, "He just broke past them…!"

Argo's pupils shrank.

"The Spider doesn't accept failure. The four-legged specialist is back," Argo had unknowingly stopped rocking the bed, his voice returning, "Intercept him."

Argo grabbed a sword off the wall, and adjusted it to his hip, opening the door, Stephan in close pursuit behind him.

They were heading for the ballroom, the servants were surprised as they thought their lord was in full swing, just a moment ago.

Without time to react, by the time they intended to follow, he was already far away.

"Throw bones and activate the wolves. Leave no stone unturned. Find any other remnants and disappear them."

Stephan nodded, and broke off from Argo's side, heading for his private office.

In thirty seconds, he arrived at a dead sprint, at the Ball, and opened the door with some decorum, but sweating.

He fixed his breathing, and his eyes quickly landed on where Bishop Mel was standing, surrounded by nobles indulging her.

She didn't notice, or care to notice him.

Constance was standing with Lady March in the center of the ballroom, alongside a crowd of ladies, all chattering away about this and that.

They gave him supremely disgusted looks, many of them had been his suitors prior to his actions, after all.

He looked across the hall at a balcony with the window open.

There was a strange mirage-like effect growing closer, their steps hidden by the sounds of people in the hall.

"Miss Hero, may I speak with you?" He put out a hand.

It was a gamble.

Was he interesting enough to make the hero accept?

Could he get her to split away from the hall, to avoid a catastrophe?

"My name is Constance." She took it.

He felt her judging him, but he dismissed it and brought her away.

At that, Bishop Mel noticed, but they'd left the hall before she could dismiss herself from those nobles blubbering around her.

Because he was taking her away from the hall, the specialist from the Spider didn't attack, likely because Argo had set up a better opportunity, with the chance to escape added on top, since it was away from anyone else.

Constance looked at Argo curiously.

Argo caught her look but watched behind her with his peripheral vision, "Miss, might I say, I am excited to be able to speak with a Hero. It has long been a dream, to be in the presence of one, since I was a boy."

He had a cold sweat, thinking of the worst case.

He weighed whether it would be better to just coinflip his own survival, or take a gamble and use it.

If she got injured or died, then the whole of Loch would likely burn to the ground, because he had taken her away from the main hall, and it would look like an assassination attempt from him.

But if he used it, there was no guarantee he could continue to live peacefully.

"Is that so? Well, how do I compare?" Constance looked forward, and forward alone, her responses seemed a bit curious, though.

Argo smiled politely, "Like a radiant star, to a silenced flame. If not for my position and the restrictions, I would have liked to have been a support for you."

The guards should have found the people at the gate dead.

Word would spread like wildfire, about it, and the entire estate would soon be shut down.

If he could buy just a little more time… it would all be okay.

"Am I the silenced flame, or the radiant star?"

Her eyes seemed to be laughing.

But he didn't have time to consider that.

The invisible figure was coming out of stealth.

He touched his sword handle.

He could hear the heavy footfalls of the knights, and the clacking of the Bishop's hard shoes, coming closer.

Soon, the specialist would be surrounded.

He wouldn't have to use it.

"You aren't paying attention to me, Mister."

He let out a small relieved breath.

"Ah-, pardon. My mind was temporarily blinded, by your brilliance. Naturally, you are the-"

He drew as the figure's feet left the ground, for the last pounce, to make no noise.

But unfortunately, Argo had been pieing him the entire time.

A beautiful obsidian hue surrounded the sword in the specialist's hands, and a thin film of it covered his body.

Noiseless, it was unfortunate.

Constance watched as Argo drew his sword.

The entire hall was filled with a blindingly brilliant violet hue, his upward cut from the drawing stance, like a lightning bolt caught the vertical slash from the Specialist!

Sparks flew!

He buckled under the weight!

The specialist's eyes widened.

"Heavy."

Aura was one of the most naturally mortal powers in the whole world, and as such, one who could bring out their Aura, the force of their sole existence, couldn't escape the truth of their own being while using it, or it would simply not come out.

"You aren't just a useless Prince, then."

One needed to wholly succumb to their own true self.

The specialist who was weakened from the battle not three hours ago was sent upwards, their aura weakened, was still on par with Argo's own.

"No one escapes the Spider."

The specialist turned their sword against themselves.

Self-destruction.

This was the second time he'd see something like it today.

He cursed under his breath, and turned, sweeping Constance up into his arms, and shoulder bashing his way out of the hallway window!

A dagger followed him through the window covered in that malicious black ooze, which almost got him through the heart, if not for a seemingly fragile hand, that caught it.

He turned over, and fell from two stories up, into the Lyn's Eye, of his garden, the flowers devoured the violet residue from his Aura, destroying the material evidence.

"There's been an attack! Find Constance! Find the Hero! NOW!"

Mel's voice echoed throughout the whole estate, alongside the shadowings of holy power!

Argo looked at the sky and realized that Constance was still in his arms.

He let out a massive breath, between the pain, and the realization of what he'd revealed in front of her, just now.

His trump card, and secret.

Aura.

If not for that, then the Specialist would have succeeded, had he not been caught off guard, and off his feet, forcing him to make a split-second decision to self-destruct.

He looked down.

Her owl-like eyes bore into him, and he realized then, that her way of looking at him, hadn't changed even slightly, from the moment he entered the hall.

He laughed a little, between hard breaths.

"...You wouldn't mind keeping this just between us, would you?"

She smiled.