Zelink BotW Sequel/ Legend of Zelda and the Last knight- Swords and Roses

Honor Among Thieves

Why we failed one hundred Years ago

Part 2

Honor among thieves

They had thrown the bodies into the wagon and set it ablaze at dawn, ensuring that any light from the fire would remain hidden from nearby patrols. The acrid scent of burning flesh clung to their clothes for hours afterward, but they had endured far worse before. The smoke would not be a problem either, thanks to the Dying Mountains' notorious tar pits, which belched forth their own putrid fog, indistinguishable from the black smoke. Jun couldn't decide which foul odor he found more repugnant: the smell of dead men or the boiling stench of mountain bogs. The humid air didn't make things any better either and each swallow of air lingered foul on the tongue making every breath a chore.

He and his band of rogues had already been caught once, and that narrow escape was already too close for comfort. Regrettably, this meant they had to abandon any supplies they couldn't carry themselves, making an already challenging mission even more formidable. With each passing day, fatigue and dwindling rations weighed them down, and the merciless sun beat upon their backs. They had no choice but to press on, navigating the treacherous secret mountain pass.

Even with all that against them, Jun was surprisingly optimistic and full of youthful energy. "See, nothing to it. Didn't I tell you that plan would work? Those stone crows never saw what hit them! Now, am I right or am I right?"

"Stop celebrating. You just got lucky back there, that's all," a gruffer voice countered. "If these had been Dragoons you'd be singing a different tune boy!"

"Speak for yourself! Ha!" The handsome young boy raised a clenched fist. He wore a dark straw hat and was clad in blue stealth attire. His silver long hair, a unique feature among his companions, fell to his shoulders. The others either shaved their scalps completely or sported a single lock of hair fashioned into a sideways ponytail which accented their smooth heads.

Jun continued, "Luck has nothing to do with it! I make my own luck, and for those who don't know what that means, it means I'm skilled. Unlike you, I actually have talent."

"Yeah, you're skilled all right," a brawny man in his twenties scoffed. "Skilled at eating before anyone else and sneaking off like an alley cat when work needs to be done. I don't see what you're smiling about anyway. We're down two men now, or haven't you noticed?" The man shoved the lad, but the kid held his ground, unflinching.

"I noticed," the brave boy retorted. "But that's the cost of war. They know what they signed up for. The sensei always says it's an honor to die for the cause—"

"Tell that to the ones who died."

Another voice, even more menacing and rough, interjected, "And what do you know of death, boy?"

"I know enough..." The boy flashed a grin, unsheathing a curved dirk and twirling it expertly like a juggler before sheathing it again. The boy chuckled softly. "Maybe, if you'd given me a more significant role back there other than a glorified distraction, they might still be alive!"

The largest and most intimidating man among them, Saburo, spat on the rocky steps of the mountain pass as they trudged along. "I doubt that."

Jun huffed back defiantly, wearing a grin. "Ah, what do you know! The sensei chose me as well as the rest of you for this mission, and I mean to see it through! He sees something in me!"

"Yeah, he sees a brat who doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut and let the men do the talking!" Jiro retorted. "He probably sent you with us to get rid of you once and for all! After all, this mission of ours has a very high chance of death! Maybe that was his reckoning?" the slender assassin laughed heartily.