章節 11: Chapter 11
It was a snowy day in Silverkeep. The regularly bright green fields were replaced with piles of white. And around the fields? Bodies. Bodies upon bodies upon bodies. This had been the bloodiest battle in Gubryasia history. And standing in the middle of it were two individuals who were face to face at this very moment. One was a knight, dressed in white armor, his blue cape flowing in the wind. The snow was piled at the bottom of it, giving the blue a bit of a fade into white. He stood around 10 meters from another knight, dressed in black armor. His eyes pierced through the spaces in his armor, staring down the man in white. He had a black cape to go along with his armor, wolf fur around the neck of the cape. The knight in white held a claymore with two hands on the grip. The claymore was made of a sterling silver hilt and blade. Engravings painted a story, the bottom of the hilt showing a beggar whilst the top showed a king, the middle of the hilt that was gripped and covered showed the engravings of stairs reaching from the peasant to the king. The king's crown held a small red gem, while the blade itself had the words "Divina Bellator" embossed in cursive.
The black knight held a different weapon set. He held a shortsword and a shield, the shield being created of solid gold. The shield was still lightweight, allowing for quick movement. The shield was in the shape of a Bouche shield, the embossing of an image from hell, hands reaching from the bottom of the shield with an eye floating above. The shortsword was created of a gold hilt as well with a regular blade. These two legendary knights knew each other, as they were directly related. These two knights were brothers.
On one side, wielding a claymore and dressed in white. This was Guerinet Leclair, The Holy Patriarch, the greatest knight in history. He was the commander of the Brevellian Army, his right hand being Dania Vernier. These two led the Brevellian Army against the Revolutionary Army, led by man in the black armor who wielded the shortsword and shield. This man was Françoys Leclair, The Saint of War. Earlier, Françoys had done something that was unforgivable. He could still remember his brother's scream as he kicked his right hand, Dania Vernier, into the freezing river of Silverkeep. No one saw her come back up, and Guerinet was angry. Françoys had killed his closest soldier, his closest friend.
The battle between the two brothers was short, unlike the war waged and the battle between armies that day. The two roared, rushing at eachother as Guerinet brought his blade up, bringing it down to attempt to slice the man in half. Françoys dodged the man, attempting to sweep Guerinet's feet out from under him. Guerinet managed to dodge the attack with a back step, using his forehead as he smashed it into the helmet of Françoys. Françoys stumbled backwards, Guerinet striking Françoys with a horizontal strike. This smashed against the armor of Françoys, a clanging noise shaking through the air as the snowflakes seemingly broke apart mid air. Due to the snow, Françoys had fallen onto his back, dropping his weapons as he felt a foot smash against his chest and pin him down. The Holy Patriarch was standing on top of Françoys, lifting his blade and stabbing it through the chest of The Saint of War. The claymore pierced through the black armor, finally ending the war as Françoys stopped moving.
Guerinet pulled his blade out, falling onto a knee in the snow. His breath escaped his helmet, manifesting in the air. He looked up, seeing what little of his men were still breathing. In the end, Guerinet stood back up like a true warrior, helping his men get back up as well. Searching for Dania held no results, taking his men back to Brevell as he shed a silent tear under his helmet, working as a mask to cover his emotions. Once arriving to the king, he informed him of the situation. It was here he told the king that he would be retiring and leaving Brevell, never to be seen again.
That day, 500 knights were sent out to battle the army. Only nine knights made it home. No revolutionary made it home.
"Or atleast that's how the story goes." Avice said, chewing on a piece of wheat. Ana had already finished hers, having spat it out much earlier. She got shivers hearing the retelling of the story. The Battle of Silverkeep always stuck in her mind, the gory imagery and the hundreds of deaths. It never left her mind.
"Wow. The story is plausible, but that doesn't mean there's any spooky, walking deadmen in Silverkeep waiting to attack us." Ulric responded, chuckling as Athos whinnied, seemingly agreeing with Ulric.
"No, but that's the thing. That fight did something. It's never stopped snowing since that fight in Silverkeep. Silverkeep used to be filled with beautiful green fields, and now? It's white. It's just pure white. Almost as white as ol' Athos there." She said, chuckling as Athos huffed some air out of her nose. A few minutes later, the horse riding trio's all had an action happen in sync. As they approached a forest, their face scrunched in a disgusted manner as a smell began to fill their nostrils.
"What the hell is that?" Ana asked, letting out a cough that wasn't violent but still quite loud.
"I don't know but it smells like a privy chamber in the slums." Avice commented, lifting the collar of her tunic in order to block out the smell. Ulric tried his best to ignore it but you could tell by his face that it was indeed getting to him, stifling a gag as they made their way through. It took around 40 seconds later when they discovered the source of the horrid stench. Ana's eyes went wide as she felt her stomach get upset, rumbling as she did her best to stifle the gag that surely would have ended up in her throwing up.
On the side of the forest laid a group of four people. Well, four people who had been slain. Their guess? Bandits. Ana was clearly not as used to the sight of corpses, the rotting and decomposing bodies laid next to each other with looks of terror on their face, as if they weren't ready for this.
"Must've been caught off guard." Avice noted, getting a nod from Ulric. Ana kept the side of her head on Ulric's back, her temple pressing against him. She let out a quiet whimper, waiting until the bodies and their aroma were out of sight and reach.
"I'm gonna put myself first." Ulric bluntly stated. Ana and Avice both understood, giving a nod in response to signify that they would do the same. That sight of bodies made them remember that the world is filled with horrible people. People that would want to do that to them.
"If I have to, I'll throw you guys to the wolves. I'm sorry but I will complete my master's wish." Ana said, closing her eyes.
"I might not be able to handle the sight of bodies, but it doesn't mean that I won't make some." She explained, a snort from Avice in response as she began to laugh.
"Kid, you aren't gonna be able to throw me to the wolves. If push comes to shove, I'll lock you in the room with them." Avice responded, sparking an "argument" between the two. More of Ana yelling at Avice whilst Avice laughed and threw taunting responses back. Ulric shook his head with a small smile, watching the entertainment bestowed upon his eyes. Soon enough, the group had made their way out of the forest and by the lake.
It was a quiet night. Ana had fallen asleep under a large oak tree. Moe and Athos were resting beside eachother, soft noises coming from them every now and then. Avice was somewhere out of sight while Ulric was sitting by the lake. His eyes peered into himself through his reflection, twirling a rock between his knuckles. Ulric sighed, pulling the hood of his cloak. He refilled his flask a bit earlier and now was just in thought.
"Can't sleep?" A female voice had asked, breaking Ulric's peace and his train of thought. His head gently turned to face her as she approached him with a small smile. Her brown wavy hair bounced with every step, a small genuine smile that didn't show her teeth but gave comfort. Ulric didn't give a response, the answer having already been clear.
"Yeah, me neither." Avice said, taking a seat next to him and watching the lake. It was a nice sight, at the other side of the lake was the horizon. It wasn't a flat horizon, rather a bumpy one as the hills were in sight. The scenery was beautiful, the moon high above. A blank sky as the stars seemed to be in rest, the moon taking their place and lighting it up for them.
"So, what are you thinking about?" She asked Ulric, turning her head to face him. Her hair shifted as she did so, allowing the moon to shine a light down on the right side of her face, putting her in a spotlight.
"Being a wanderer. Leaving Brevell. It was a spur of the moment decision." Ulric had finally admitted to Avice.
"I... I left some people. I don't know what happened but I feel they were punished for my leaving and I can't help but feel the guilt inside build up." Ulric confessed, sighing as he turned away from her and back to the horizon, looking up to the moon. Avice did the same, turning to face the horizon.
"It's not your fault." Avice commented. Ulric turned his head in confusion. It was, how would it not be?
"We all live our own lives. If you left, so could they. If they chose to stay when they had the chance, that's on them." She said, looking at Ulric with a comforting look. Ulric felt warmth travel through his body as she realized her point, continuing to twirl the rock.
"Yeah! Besides, you can come back for them after we see Dupar!" A higher voice exclaimed, causing a yelp from Avice. Avice and Ulric both jumped at the sudden interruption, turning to face Ana as she smiled brightly at the pair.
"Having conversations without me? How rude!" She mocked, chuckling.
"You always love to jump in the middle whenever we talk, huh?" Ulric joked, Ana responding with a smirk as she reached over and grabbed a rock. She threw it across the lake, skipping a total of 5 skips before reaching the other side. Ulric and Avice looked in awe as she had a prideful look on her face.
"It's called skipping rocks. My master taught me!" She said, her signature pearly white smile having returned. Ulric stood up, walking over to the distance for a second.
"Nature's calling." He said, letting them know why as he approached the shrubs and went deeper in, hiding himself from the two girls. He prepared to do his duty when a sudden rustling in the bushes caught his attention. Whoever it was, they were doing their best to be slick. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his blade, suddenly turning and pulling it out as he clashed with another dagger, sparks coming off from the collision of metal. He looked the man dead into his eyes, noticing what he was wearing. A mask with a red tint around the lips and eyes.
"You Creed bastards never give up, huh?"
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票