Castle Crashers

Part 7

I got another chapter for all of yall, and we get some backstory too, Fulgur x Glacies fans get ready

"We need to get back, we need to check on them, it's been too long," Fulgur paced, and Glacies narrowed his brows in thought.

"I understand your worry, Securis, but keep it down? If anyone discovers who we are, Venenum and Ignis' health will be the least of our worries," Glacies stated and doubted his own words, but knew that Venenum and Ignis would be in much more danger if he, Viburnum, and Fulgur were discovered.

"It's been four days, and you heard what the patrol from this morning reported in, strange noises coming from the edge of the forest, what if something happened to them, we're lucky that they were dismissed to be trolls causing a ruckus and they didn't investigate further," Fulgur panicked.

Glacies frowned under the barbarian helmet. He doubted that no one would go check it out sometime soon, if the Necromancer was as serious about getting Ignis as he was, he wouldn't simply leave stones unturned.

But he wouldn't tell Fulgur that, after their argument, Fulgur had barely spoken a word to him, rightfully so, Glacies knew that his words struck low, but he couldn't bring himself to apologize.

Glacies rarely spoke out of turn like that, and he hated when he ever did.

He remembered how he'd been before he became a knight. Before he met the others, a traumatized and reckless child who felt he had no control over his life. Rumors spread that he was the reason the incident happened, that he was the reason that he was an orphan with no family and no home. And Glacies had turned as cold as his powers because of it.

And, of course, before Fulgur had been practically thrown into the guard, Glacies was the King's favorite soldier, a raw teenager, willing to do anything if it meant that he could have a home, never taking breaks, not sleeping more than he needed to, always the first in the arena, ready to get rid of any prisoners at the first sign of trouble.

Glacies was trained to be cold and calculating, never to let his emotions get in the way of his decisions.

Glacies looked down at the Barbarian before him, humiliated and disheveled, battered and broken, with Glacies' sword to his neck.

Glacies looked to the king, waiting for permission to kill his last enemy, the final enemy of ten others that had been slain by Glacies' blade.

"To any that would seek to oppose our forces, you must consider the consequences of your actions, for you will meet a far worse fate than these lowlifes!" the King warned as he gestured to twelve Barbarians still in chains, witnesses to Glacies' skill and victory over their comrades.

Glacies didn't even have to look to know that the broken foe beneath his blade was going to strike out and try and catch him off guard and at the first movement, Glacies slit his throat with barely any effort.

Glacies was glad that his face was covered in that moment, so no one could see the tear that fell.

He felt the terror and desperation of every one of his opponents. None of them should've been ended, none should have been killed this way, Glacies hated a public execution, the humiliation that the enemy went through, the jeers, the mockery.

And every time Glacies had to bear witness, he felt the desperation and shame of the man sentenced to death.

It sickened him.

Glacies wiped his blade down as he sighed dejectedly.

The king would most likely force Glacies to kill the rest of the prisoners tomorrow, unless, of course, they beg for their lives, but even then the King would probably kill them himself, he'd walk up to them and make seem like he would unbind them, give them false hope, and then chop off their head in one fell swoop.