Apostasian Revelations

Chapter Thirty One

The tracks were cleared up by rain, but he could tell where he was going, leaping from branch to branch he moved at a breakneck pace.

He was the hunter, and Virgil was the hunted, time was ticking and it was a fight for everything, the whole world was on the line right now and Miguel wasn't ready to part ways with it just yet.

The sun was low and setting, making it the perfect time for him to swoop down upon the contingent down below, like an eagle that had marked it's pretty little prey, he had caught him.

The mud below slipped under Virgil's messed up boots, his clothes were tattered and in pieces and he was a mockery of the so called noble standard, but with a horde of assassins after him due to reasons only he knew, things got much worse for him when he plummeted head first.

He groaned, his forehead stung and felt like all hell had broken loose, it was all on fire right now, or atleast that's what it felt like.

Bloody and bruised, he lay there in wait for someone to end his misery, his eyes swollen up with moist tears.

It had been a good run, but now the predator had caught the prey.

However, just then like a blue streak across the sky, the rest of the blue contingent caught up with them, sweaty and ready to do their job.

"Halt! Hold your ground!" The captain cried, his sword now in hand and with six others in rows behind him.

The man shouted out, "Permission to engage!" And it was all about to go downhill from there for them.

The rogue looked each and every shivering recruit, some were battle hardened veterans, but most seemed to be lagging behind as cowardly fresh bloods.

Infront of him however were the most elite of the elites, hundreds of men surrounding them in an encircled grip, and he didn't have a plan.

He never had one, never needed one either.

In the blink of an eye they were all cut down by his pre set traps, a smoke bomb going down destroyed their last advantage in the situation.

It was bloody carnage going on as he swept through them all, not even a wink of mercy given to them.

The ground was stained with blood from what he saw, and Virgil could only hear the sound of blades piercing flesh, a sickening crack or two going around and he hoped and begged not to be next on the line.

He scrambled to gather his bearings, struggling to even inch forward as the path seemed to be blocked by otherworldly terrain at the time, the pebbles scratched his face and bloodied him a little more but he was crawling away.

When all things looked bright, in came the darkness, as his hand was stomped on, someone had broke through all the defences, and was ready to finish the kill.

Virgil closed his eyes, some mud might have gotten in by now but he hoped for a quick and painless death at most, hopefully the assassin would oblige.

Nevertheless, like Rashper coming early this year for the third time, the assailant was punched away, by a wide eyed Miguel.

He was in shock to find Virgil wasn't being protected by the group, but being prosecuted instead.

Taking a calm breath in he picked up and dragged the downed noble man into a safe spot, far away from where the eye could see.

Hours later at what seemed like dusk, his eyes fluttered open.

His back felt sore, his legs felt even more so though the cold hard ground didn't soothe nor alleviate any pain.

"Where.. where am I? Am I..?" He asked, holding his head he felt clean for the first time in months.

  "No, you're not dead, trust me on this one." The man said, sat down on a smoother surface rock at the opposite end of the room.

Though as he began to panic and try to rush out, he found himself bound to his place.

"Sorry but not sorry, you're not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell just happened."

And so, just like that he spilled the beans, though Miguel was surprised Virgil cracked so easily.

"I see, looks like Sebastian's the likely culprit," He said, crossing both his arms, continuing with a bitter expression, "In both ordeals, yours and mine."

His face was lit up by the nearby campfire, somehow the area wasn't wet enough to block out all the flames from igniting.

He pondered for a bit, though Virgil felt squeaky and scared shiverless in his boots, he knew the importance the man held, he wasn't called a child prodigy for nothing.

"Look, he's your worshipped, isn't he? Shouldn't you be the one holding all the cards here?" He asked with a tilted head.

Miguel however merely chuckled in response, "If this was a round of Crabs and kings, I'd be the crab in the situation, one card only."

Though Virgil was fluent in common speak, also known as whatever the hell the locals just said, their customs and traditions weren't rather well known to him.

"Crabs and kings?" He begged the question, Miguel could tell.

He grinned a toothy grin, ear to ear as he explained the rules, "Yeah, crabs and kings, it takes just a crab to take a king out, a citizen to take the crab out, and a king for the citizen."

Gulping, Virgil leaned in, "Then.. what's your card then?"

  "Go figure." He responded with a shrug.

He thought about it for not even a second, "So you have a plan right?"

"An inkling of a plan, ready to be constructed along the way atleast."

  "Great, so you don't?" Virgil asked, wide eyed once more, his mouth hanging loose.

This was the God he had to put his trust in.

Though Miguel smirked, "Who said I don't?" this was after all, The God he had to put his trust in.

Though Virgil had been wronged by Miguel in the past, he forgave him, not only would it be wrong to hold a grudge against his own deity he worshipped since childhood, but also a stupid idea since he still had him at gunpoint, not that he knew what guns were, nor that Miguel had them under his sleeves as a last trick.

And so the two rekindled their somewhat new relationship, not in that way however.

They forged a plan, to break in to Sebastian's most likely hiding spot, the citadel just around the corner, the highest in the region of Reggasia.

They moved immediately, and the plan was almost at an end when an untimely demise happened to stumble along the way, a blue knife in hand.