Forgotten Conqueror B2

Chapter 27- Pestilence

The man ran for his life, trying to get as far as he could from the murderous group of villagers. The spear wound on his shoulder was bleeding, and he held his right hand over it, applying pressure to keep himself from bleeding out. Although he feared for his life, there was a nefarious grin on his face.

After four days of searching the dense southern forest, his team had finally found it. The new location of the former Vernigale village residents, along with the former lord of Imvera, whom they had been hunting. The information was invaluable, and he ran, thanking the gods for keeping him alive.

The man passed the fork in the road and headed north, keeping his brisk pace while pushing through the pain. With quick short breaks, he ran until the stars were out and the half-moon was shining overhead. Filled with a sense of duty and expectations from his Countess, he refused to give up and succumb to the coldness that was beckoning him. He ran until he could run no more before dragging himself, moving forward as his body began to numb.

As the night matured, he eventually forced his weary body back to the large area where they had set up a temporary camp. He saw the glow of campfires burning from a distance, and began to shout for someone to assist him.

"Who is it?!"

Fortunately for him, as he got closer to the camp, one of the lookouts heard him and came to check. "I am Delos of team four! Where is the Countess?!" The man shouted back with what little strength he had left in him.

"Team four? Where are the others?" The bumbling man who ran over to him questioned.

"Dead." Delos fell to the ground as he saw two more men running in their direction. "I must speak to the Countess at once. We must move now, or risk losing them!" The three men quickly understood what he was talking about. One of them took off while the two ran over to help and support him.

Before long, they were carrying him through the camp, towards the center where a luxurious pavilion made of stone had been erected. The man who ran earlier was already there waiting for them, and though it was the dead of night, others were stirring from their tents.

"The Countess has been notified. Go on in." The man quickly motioned, opening the flap of animal hide covering the entrance.

Released from his two supports, Delos strengthened his legs and strolled into the stone structure confidently.

The structure was almost like a small house. The entry opened into a large room fitted with a wide table, a writing desk, six chairs, and light stones on all four corners of the room. Further in, there was an opening in the back wall, leading into the Countess' sleeping chamber.

"So you've returned, Delos. Judging from the need to wake me, I presume you've found our prey?" A sharp and sweet voice came through from the back room. He could also hear the sound of clothes rubbing against skin.

"Yes, my lady." Delos promptly replied, kneeling as he did so.

"Splendid. Where?"

The sweet voice gripped his heart and compelled him to answer. "In the Vanian forests, half a day's march from here. They chased us to the roads and murdered Hywel and Vaiss. I barely escaped with my life."

"It is unfortunate for Hywel and Vaiss, but I am glad. Thank you for coming back to me safely. Well done."

"Such- such words are too kind for the likes of me." Powerful emotions stirred from inside him, and he felt strengthened by her kindness.

"Please go and tell Egald to wake the men. We're moving at once."

"Understood, my lady." Delos got up to leave but stopped. "Forgive me my lady, but I saw him. I saw the old lord and I couldn't do anything."

"Is that so? ... Please do not fret over it. We shall finish them by tomorrow's end, thanks to you. Be proud of what you've accomplished. Now go."

Such compassionate words. He was truly unworthy. "Of course." Delos bowed once more, then retreated out of the stone pavilion. All his pain and exhaustion had evaporated while in her presence, but they quickly returned to reclaim his body once he was outside.

Exhausted and in pain, Delos swiftly issued the commands he was given. Soon, Egald who had been standing beside the entrance was running about, yelling for their forces to wake up and get ready. Tired and worn out, Delos moved to a vacant tent where he could lay down and wait for a medic. Closing his eyes, he blacked out for a moment before hearing a commotion, one very different from the irritability of having to wake up in the middle of the night. There was shouting about unknown intruders in the camp, and the commotion eventually became louder as people began moving about. Before long, the disorder in the camp quieted. Out of curiosity, he sat up to take a look. Down the path he had come through earlier, two men—held at sword point—were being led towards him.

Delos began rubbing his eyes, certain that he'd seen the trespassers before. His drowsiness quickly vanished, realizing they were the two who helped him earlier that evening. As they neared, he quickly stood up. The young man caught his eyes and he thought he saw a smile.
In the light of the torches and campfires, for a brief instant, the boy's lips moved as if saying "Thank you" to him as they approached him.

"Wha- What are they doing here?" He inquired.

"Said they helped you earlier. Is that true?" Luka, a tall skinny man towering above many of those in the camp answered. The man's voice had a low baritone, unfitting for his gangly appearance.

Delos trudged before them, closing in on the young man. "You followed me?" He spoke with a voice filled with irritation.

"I believe a reward for services rendered is appropriate, don't you?" The young man calmly replied. "We're also looking for work, so perhaps this Countess of yours would like to hire two capable swordsmen? We did save your life after all."

"Hah! Capable you say? I see an errand boy and a bed slave. The Countess does not need the two of you." One of the four men sharply countered.

"Delos. Does the boy speak true?" Luka questioned again.

Delos stared at the two before him. He had seen their skills earlier, yet admitting to such claims would only hamper his glorious return. The Countess might even grant them her favor should she learn of their abilities. He looked at the four beside them, and towards those who were watching. Right now, he was surrounded by his own people—like-minded individuals who would care naught for a corpse or two—and noticed that neither of the two had their swords on them. In the back, Abvae was holding onto three familiar swords. "Does it matter?" Delos retorted. "They were about to leave me to the mob that killed Vaiss and Hywel!"

His hand holding a sword, Luka looked at Delos and grinned. "Not at all." He brought the sword against the young man's neck, ready to slit it open.
"Wrong choicccce." Something hissed in his ears, and his body froze. The boy casually turned around, and two silver eyes stared up at him. Without warning, the boy's right hand shot forth into his chest. Pain coursed through him, and Luka felt his strength drain as his life was expunged.