Future of Calamity [Under Rewrite]

Chapter 28 - No More Games

"Midgand! Midgand! Midgand! Midgand!"

Boots clicking upon maroon brickwork steps that belied the Palace above, the chorus of mysterious rallying shouts echoed throughout the peak of the grand Capital. Looking on to pierce through the gathering crowd before a great wooden gate with its raised portcullis; gridded and enclosed upon outside entry as the cheerful cries of support seemed to rumble the walls themselves. Finally, as the group clambered over the final ridge between them and the Royal Castle surrounding, Magilou sank slightly with a huff of puffing air, "Listen to those cheers," she moped with a few sparing inhales, "The royals sure have these folks in line."

"Subjects! May I have your attention?"

A voice - posh, plummy and joyful - shot out behind the gates and above the bannered edges of the towers above, the assumed royal continued his prattling from the fortified cornerstone of a ceremony.

"It is I, Percival Asgard, crown prince of the Midgand Empire!" His addressing of the herded crowd below was incessantly superior, and Velvet could only stare on with indifference towards the prince's ramblings. "His Majesty my father and I are pleased to celebrate with you on this auspicious day!" And with the announcement, came the vibrant gasps of an enamored crowd, and the group frowned from behind the locked gate. Just a few steps too late; Magilou sinking even lower with a sweat-drop as the Witch realised.

"The Ceremony's started," the Pirate grumbled with stern cross of his arms, icy blue peering forward with furrowed brows.

Rokurou brushed down the lavender cloth upon his sunset kimono, staring onwards as he gripped his chin in thought, "It's impossible to slip in now," the Samurai assessed objectively, while their half-breed hummed in agreement; fiddling with the lined bladed belt as Sarid's sharp violet flickered to search for ways to pass through without being spotted.

"After the Opening ten years ago, our kingdom faced an existential threat, both from daemons and the terrible spread of daemonblight. However, one man raised a miraculous sword and stood so that the body and soul of the land would not be lost," the voice proceeded to boom, and gradually, a daemoness' eyes scaled the battlements above, foot tapping with growing impatience.

"Over there," she exclaimed upon sighting the curtain vulnerability, just outside of prying eyes. Nonetheless, it remained risky.

"You can climb up if you want," Rokurou remarked impassively, while the pensive half-malak remained slightly more concerned about the rash action; "but attacking now would be suicide."

"Velvet, wait for once, we can still hear from-" Nonetheless, Sarid's warning fell on deaf ears, as before the woman could argue against his point, the prince's royal statements remained uninterrupted, and the next line hurled her caution to the chilling winds.

"And the name of that man, was Artorias Collbrande!"

Velvet's blighted orbs sunk as the name gouged her ears, trembling in their sockets as calloused hands slammed shut. Without another word, steel twisted upon the stone, and the ravenette darted with the breeze and bound along the cracked stairway at their left.

"Artorias! Artorias! Artorias! Artorias!"

Their shouts ricocheted within her mind as metal webbed rock, sliding along with a shrill screech as the almost ravenous Wolf glared up to the towering battlement before her; a great ways across and beyond from the maroon flighted balcony she prowled upon.

"None here, I trust, are unfamiliar with Artorias' noble act. To bring us salvation from daemons, he sacrificed everything."

The trust and valiant faith in this seemingly infallible figure was evident, the Prince just another sheep to be herded among the naive watcher's below. This so-called gallant shepherd wielding a blade bloodied with innocent's, in place of a useless crook. Gritted teeth and a simmering ember awakening in boiling aureate, Velvet did not slow, the howl of the wind's support brisking her steps to shatter the board bench and pounce through the blistering air.