Chương 29: Chapter 24 - Honor

Killean glanced outside of the cast iron doors slit, looking around the alleyway, his lips parted, as the slit slid shut, "...Clear."

It had been a grueling hour. He wiped the sweat from his brow.

The operation had been almost a complete failure.

Moray had killed their comrade, and then killed several more, afterward, mutiliating them. The Root Guards were gliding above, searching for the perpetrators everywhere.

"Ian get down here, its ready." Trent called up from the large pipe-like structure underneath the overturned couch in the living area.

Killean turned around, a bit sour despite the situation, he hated that nickname the most. His name had been given to him by his mother with great care.

He took a final look around the old house. It was lined with magic crystals, charged to the maximum.

The moment he cast his Mage Lightning, the entire house would explode, leveling the whole block.

It was an unfortunate, but necessary, sacrifice, for the sake of Dumbar's restoration.

Karlan had no honour, when they slaughtered his family.

He would not take the high road.

They had to suffer.

The tetherings of magic weaved themselves through his insides, creating the casting circle for the Mage Lightning using his own flesh. The traditional method of magic casting.

"Coming." He cast a second spell, on his feet, for slow falling, and stepped back, diving into the pipe, as he let loose a torrent of Mage Lightning upwards.

His arm went completely numb and limp, he grabbed it with his other hand, to keep it from knocking against the walls of the pipe, as the building above went up completely in flames.

His ears rang violently, and he couldn't even hear the wind passing him, as he fell.

Activating the spell of slow falling, he landed at the bottom, nearly a hundred meters down, in a matter of seconds.

The old aqueducts of the Avancia Hold.

Even now, millenia after they were built, they still had a magnificence, that could make one want to stare, for a long time.

But, it only inspired greater hate for Karlan, in his heart.

They had taken away Dumbar's history, and burned away, like a wildfire burns dry grasslands. Now, new seeds grew in Dumbaran soil, and called their land home.

He looked ahead, Trent was trying to tell him something, but he couldn't hear it. He began casting healing on himself, to avoid the reprecussions of long term hearing damage, as happened to so many who used explosive magic.

His hearing quickly began coming back, though it was like popcorn, with some clarity, and sometimes, dull.

"Hur…. co…. On!"

He inferred what Trent was saying, from the clues, and began heading towards him, trying to fix his hearing.

He couldn't cast multiple magics at a single time, like Middle or High Rank Sorcerers, but, he could engrave the spells tethering prior to activation using his flesh, and then activate them in quick succession.

They walked for a few minutes, until they reached a great fall, of which, he couldn't see the bottom.

There were long narrow rope bridges that criss-crossed up and down in the wide open space, water fell from the massive sewer pipes, down into that great hole.

He only hazarded a look down once, before focusing ahead.

The rest of their comrades had gathered further down.

He glanced at Trent.

He was an explosives expert. A terrorist. It displeased him to no end, having to work with someone like him.

But nonetheless, they descended.

He cast a magic light, and threw it ahead, to lead the way down, into that dark abyss. His ear twitched.

He looked back.

No one was there. He raised a brow, and stared closely, but he couldn't see anything.

"I've worked with bombs more stable than this bridge. Hurry up." Trent noticed he had stopped hearing Killean's footsteps behind him, and shook his head.

A Rebel. If it wasn't for the fact it was a request from the guild, he wouldn't have wanted to ever get tangled up with the likes of their ilk. Sore losers from a war before their time.

He continued down, but the light ahead had fizzled out. He frowned tightly.

Had the bastard finally lost his mind?

"You-?!" His pupils shrank.

In the dark, there was nothing to reflect off of anything else, but, he could hear a whistling and instinctively fell flat against the bridge.

He heard it go straight over him.

Had the bastard of the rebel not heard the fine whistle of an arrow, and gotten nailed down here? His lips curled down.

His opponent could see him, but he could not see them. In a split second, he chose to roll, and fall between the rope rails, and downwards, landing on another bridge.

He reached into the pouch on his hip, and threw a magic crystal upwards! He whispered a few words, and threw the nails he had in his other hand, straight upwards, hitting it!

When the crystal cracked, the magic crystal exploded!

It wasn't as powerful as a magic induced explosion, but, it was enough to give him a brief glimpse at the surroundings, as the nails he threw rained like shrapnel everywhere.

His face paled.

Dozen's of eyes reflected in the dark, staring straight at him.

Dozen's of archers, Root Guards, were on the bridges everywhere above him. The sweat trickled down his spine. He raised his hands.

"I surrender!"

"Traitor!"

Trent's head turned on a swivel, a familiar face stood further down the way, Mages from Dumbar.

By falling down like he did, he had unexpectedly ran into another group, that was heading back to the rendezvous point, further down.

He could smell the magic on them, and threw himself to the ground, as Mage Lightning careened through the air!

Arrows flew precisely through the air, but magical barriers went up, deflecting them! Another mage drew forth a spell that created a furious fire, seeking to burn down the rope bridges and make everyone fall!

With the newfound light, Trent instantly found a bridge nearly forty feet down, and decided to dive for it, taking his chances.

Above him, the battle exploded to life!

Spells were being flung in a firework show-esq display of brutality! Arrows found their marks, nailing flesh to wood and sending spiralling the living in the world of the dead!

He grit his teeth for the fall, and prayed that the rope bridge would be enough to break his fall, and allow him to survive.

But alas, life was not so good, for the explosives expert, as the rope bridge instantly snapped. The backlash of the fall, had sent a shock through his whole body, and the nails as well as magic crystal in his pouches were thrown everywhere in the air.

He turned himself over in the air, looking down, and trying to figure a way to survive.

Water.

He saw water down below.

It was a vortex.

His heart stopped.

If he was caught by it, he would without a doubt, be dragged under and drown to death. The pipes on the sides of the walls were quickly becoming fewer and fewer.

His jaw tightened.

He grabbed a nail out of the air.

Only one chance at this.

He spotted the pipe he wanted to get to, that would lead to the labratory, and when he thought it would work, he nailed the magic crystal nearest to him!

The explosion offset his downward force, and sent him in a horizontal launch, hitting the top half of the pipe, and causing him to go into a spin, but he made it into that pipe.

He was certain his back was broken, at the very least. He struggled to look up. He could hear the vague cacophony of the war playing out, and the flashing lights of magic, as well as the shadows of bodies alive and dead, falling into the water below.

He had survived. He lowered his head. He wanted desperately to rest, but knew he couldn't. His destination was so close. These pipes at the bottom, where the roads that lead to the laboratory.

He heard someone walking through the pipe behind him. Their footsteps were light in the waters.

He couldn't turn back. His heart was a mess. Something else, had found him? Seriously? Now?

He had no Magic Crystals, no nails, and no strength left to resist. Would some giant ancient rat, get him? Or perhaps, some sort of a forgotten sewer monster.

Something was coming from the direction of the laboratory… an ally, was most likely. But he couldn't be sure. He had to take his chances. He started making noises, to grab their attention.

He cursed his luck and swore, if he survived, he would never get involved with rebels, ever again, for so long as he continued to breath.

He heard the steps stop beside him.

"...You are a very lucky man," He recognized this voice, he knew precisely from where as well, his heart grew very very still, as if hiding from it, "How is Ichi, these days?"

His blood ran utterly cold.

The Boss of Sin.

If this voice was coming from the direction of where the laboratory was. That meant that it had been compromised.

And if Sin was involved…

Trent wanted to kill whichever was the son of a whore that had put up the request, for this mission, and had written it up as a simple one with low risk.

He had heard his voice on several occasions, when called upon to do cleanup work, or demolitions for him, at his Chief's request, who worked directly for Sin, and there was nothing low risk, about Sin or their affairs at all.

Trent tried to grovel out a few words, but it was in doing so, he became certain that he had broken several ribs. No one, survived that.

He was going to die.

"Are you not paid well, Trent?"

He knew his name.

The Boss knew his name… his skin crawled back. But, he was also oddly calm. He knew he was going to die. But he couldn't help but be regretful. If he knew his name, then he would know how to find his family.

He knew the price of betrayal had to be paid, and if he wouldn't survive to do so, someone else would have to become a debtor in his place.

No one but a strong mage, could prevent his death now. But all the mages were falling out of the sky, at the moment.

His jaw tightened.

"Your family will suffer for your betrayal."

Taking side work, for any sort of underground or above activity, was strictly prohibited, if it was not directly sanctioned by the Chief or the Boss.

When one entered Ichi Construction, and then, were given the chance to work the more dangerous, and hush jobs, one was subject to do only that, until they retired or died.

He had broken the rules. And he knew well the consequences of that. He had been among the people to see, what happened to those who chose to break the rules.

He was suddenly grateful, as disgusted with himself as he was, that his death would come in this pipe, where the smell was not too terrible.

But, his family would be put to face the Bull, and that, wore on his soul like a mountain.

Feeling both relieved and aggrieved, Trent knew what he had to do, before he died.

Argo looked down at the man, whom he had seen do a great deal of work for Ichi.

He had worked on the tavern, in the latest incident with Rouge, as well.

It was a shame, to lose someone with such a great deal of expertise, but with every gamble, came the chance of losing the roll.

And Trent had lost.

Argo looked up and stood at the edge of the pipe. Trent's vision was going dark.

"...Spider… spider…" Argo glanced back, and down at Trent.

Spider?

Was he trying to save his family, by giving up some information, in his final moments?

He was a traitor, and no mercy would be levied for him. However… his family could be sparred, if his words were accurate and he had not told them anything about Sin.

But his body couldn't be brought back. He crouched down, and took the marriage band off his finger, and put it in his clothes pocket, sealing it there.

Though his body could never surface, he would at least send his family some compensation in secret, and the ring, given that the information was true.

He turned back.

The explosions of magic had stopped.

The Root Guards had on their gliders, Magic Crystals, which had absorbed the attacks from the mages. Once the bridges went down due to their very own attacks, the mages had to choose to fall to their deaths fighting, or cast slow falling.

Naturally, most casted slow falling.

Unable to cast a second spell alongside it, they were merely mundane people coming down quite slowly.

He looked up at them, the Root Guard were watching from the pipes, where they had landed. Marce appeared behind him.

It was time to teach these kind giants a little lesson in what the world could be like.

He sat at the end of the pipe, and reached into his shirt, grabbing out a leaf, he burned it's end with a match, before throwing it down into the water.

"Wind."

He stared at the water vortex below. It was reminiscent of the toilet he had encountered in the houses bathroom, which could flush.

He idly wondered where all that water went, and where it came from, as a powerful gale rose from below, keeping the mages who had slow falling cast, hovering.

"Hello."

Mage Lightning careened through the air seeking to take his life, but the Magic Crystal in his clothes, tanked it easily.

The mage who had shot it, fell through the gale, and into the vortex below. He would be dead in a few minutes, if he held his breath well and didn't hit anything on the way to wherever that went.

"I want you all to live, and for Dumbar to prosper. I don't believe, that what Karlan and the other nations did, was right. The people were innocent. However..."

At the center of every discipline was the soul.

These Mages all believed in their hearts, that Dumbar should be restored. And that it was a great nation, which was full of pride, ancient traditions, and greatness that overshadowed the other nations.

And that that was why they had been attacked by them all, back then. Out of jealousy for their nobility which reigned over the rest.

He smiled under his head, and he held the leaf, and took a drag.

He looked up.

"...I can't help but be disappointed. Wrathful enough, to fight for your freedom. And cruel enough to do the same as the dogs of Karlan. Taking an innocent girl, to use as a scheme. Your no better than the people you hate."

Another mage lightning came flying at him. Another Mage fell, this one, screamed bloody murder at him, cursing wildly.

Argo only bothered with a disgusted glance.

"Is this what the great nation of Dumbar is? A bunch of lowlifes who would use a little girl for their means?"

They couldn't escape the truth of what they had done. And the fact that some would rather attack, than listen, had shown him even more so, that what he was saying had struck a nerve, that they would die before having to acknowledge.

"For as long as I've been with the Hero, I've spoken well of you all. But now, you've taken my daughter. So you'll have to understand, my feelings."

He was making the Mage's convictions shake. They wanted the restoration of Dumbar, but was this the way? They had steeled themselves, but when faced with a fathers righteous wrath, one that many of them had themselves, felt, it couldn't not shake.

He was also saying these things, for the Root Guards to hear, so that he could change his image in their eyes, and leave behind a legend that sounded nothing like his other characters, so it couldn't be traced back to him too easily.

"So, where is my daughter?" Argo was hunched over, he took the leaf roll out of his mouth, and let out a puff of smoke. His body still ached.

There was too much to think about, all at once, but he couldn't afford to let up an inch. If he backed down even slightly, or showed even a tiny opening, the consequences, he didn't even want to consider them.

The mages were silent.

He had expected as much.

Dumbaran's were irreconcilable bastards, after all. He internally shook his head.

He already knew everything, but, it would have been valuable to cross reference the story he had received from their scientists, who were sleeping in their laboratory.

They had been quite loose lipped, once push came to shove, and he had gotten quite the nice treats, when he was there. The medicines he had been missing, he was able to concoct and test on them, while the battle had raged here.

But how did he find the Labratory?

He requested schematics, to the whole of the underground of the Avancia Hold, which had been granted to him quickly by Marce, who many agreed would one day be Awick's wife.

With influence like that, everything went quickly.

There were only a few spots where it could be, that they had their head quarters. And he knew that they weren't operating above ground, because he knew what he would do, and it wasn't that.

Though, some of the things he found, in that laboratory, were difficult.

The gate that lead below, into the Giant Roads from the laboratory, which was what had likely been used to transport the girl, not more than two hours earlier, was sealed tightly by a magic key.

One that he was certain only the mages here could use, or else, they wouldn't have retreated down here, to escape after going scorched earth above.

He needed one to break, before he could go back or else it take too long to crack the magic key. By the time it was done, it would be too late.

"She was taken by Master Murphy to-"

Mage lightning careened through the air at her. But, the Magic Crystals that Argo had on him, devoured them before it could arrive, causing the lightning to make a beautiful arc through the air, as the mages that cast them, fell.

"-To the deep roads. We've been there once. I can lead you. I would never help someone hurt a child after my own experiences. Trust me."

A woman, with a shameful look in her eyes. He idly wondered, if it was because she was trying to save her own life, or if it was because she truly felt shameful of using a child.

He ultimately decided he didn't care. The winds changed, and she was brought forward to the pipe. Marce stood beside Argo, and put a magic crystal collar on the woman. If she tried to cast any magic, they would instantly absorb it.

And if she cast too much, it would explode.

Argo stood up slowly, his body still ached. The medicines he had made in the laboratory were also somewhat dangerous, so it bore being careful when moving, so it wouldn't break.

It was a nasty little trick, using magic crystals like that on a mage.

As he turned, his pupils shrank, a heavy force slammed into his chest. He was flying out over the vortex.

Marce stared at him from the dark.

His eyes narrowed. He reached into his clothes and took a deep breath.

"..." She watched him calmly. She was making a sign of prayer, like Awick had made.

The wind underneath him gave out. His pupils shrank.

She looked almost apologetic. He braced.

His mind went blank.

The water was cold.