Chapter 118:
Gunpowder and Bloodlust
Mature content warning: Graphic scenes of gore and violence
The battle was intense, bringing with it the heat of summer as the rapid sounds of footsteps filled the area. Like a dance, the floor was constantly moving, dust dancing in the air like clouds of smoke, creating the illusion of other dancers on the floor. However, the closer one looked, the more dancers fell to the ground, motionless and limp. Blood stained the ground where they lay, filling the air around them with the smell of soil and rust.
All four of their group members were preoccupied, enemies surrounding them like flies. However, Silas was at more of a disadvantage. Silas had worn dresses enough to be unhindered by the one he wore. Instead, he found the bonnet more restricting, as it blocked part of his peripheral vision. He carefully avoided staying in one place for too long, keeping his back towards Clarence to protect his hindered vision as he attacked in rapid, heavy strikes, taking down two men with a wide cut of his sword, staining the end of his skirt in red blood.
“Careful!” Clarence shouted, pushing Silas aside with his shoulder as he blocked an oncoming attack by one of the bandits. The man was large, wielding a large axe with two hands. Clarence had a line of sweat dotting his brow as he held back the tip of the man’s axe away from Silas, who had already turned to protect Clarence’s back from the oncoming bandits.
The man with the axe tried to push towards Clarence more, threatening the young man with his brute strength, but Clarence found his weak point, throwing the axe back with one sudden, hard push as he stepped forward, thrusting the tip of his sword into the heavy man’s gullet before he pulled it back and stabbed the man again, this time in the chest.
“You little-” The man could no longer respond, as Clarence sliced his arm, severing the use of his dominant hand, the hand that was raised towards Silas. Once the man was down, he did not have the time to let out a sigh of relief as more men surrounded them, breaking Clarence’s patience even more.
If any of you dare touch him, I’ll cut off each notch of the fingers of the hand that touched him. The blue in Clarence’s eyes burned bright as his pace quickened, this time attacking two men at once, using Silas to protect his back. I am the only one who can touch him, no one else. Clarence’s thoughts rotated in a possessive manner, but he paid no mind to them as he fought, his slashes becoming heavier and heavier the more he thought of the man attempting to hurt Silas.
Just as he felt Clarence’s presence behind him, Silas said a quick, “Thank you.” He responded loud enough for Clarence to hear as he parried another oncoming slice, this time barely missing the edge of his arm. Silas had to bow his head, moving to the right as he led a slice upward, bringing one man back two heavy steps.
The man in front of Silas had a large beard, resembling a grizzly bear. “You fucking bitch! You’re trying to get yourself killed.” The man’s voice was gruff, but Silas only squinted his eyes and lifted his sword, attacking aggressively towards the hairy man, slicing off the tip of his beard.
“You’ll die today.” Silas spoke aloud, his voice dripping with aggression. The air only became more intense between the two.
On the other side of the battlefield, Jasmine was kept busy with the archers that had attempted to hide in the upper crest of the valley. Dodging the oncoming men like a scurrying rat, she made her way towards the upper level of the soil and huddled into a nearby bush, temporarily hiding herself from view as the other men busied themselves with the others.
Come to mama, you sneaky little bastards… Jasmine had a light figure and was quick on her feet, making her perfect for stealth. The men in the cover of the above foliage were hidden enough to make it difficult to see them, but Jasmine had already memorized their placements. She had to act fast, before they began to shoot arrows towards her comrades.
The first man she attacked was preparing to pull his bow string, but before his hand could pull back the thread, something brushed against his throat, bringing with it a warm, wet, and sticky sensation. Puzzled, he released the thread and put his hand to his throat before he realized his neck had been sliced.
“Ugh…ah!” He could no longer produce words, his vocal cords had already been severed. Blood spurted from his veins, and Jasmine carefully dropped him to the ground, quietly ending the man’s life as he fell cold.
The two other surviving archers were unaware of the enemy that was coming.
On the ground, many men had already fallen to Maeir’s blade. Maeir’s fighting style was unlike anything any of the bandits had seen. Elves were a rarity, and fighting against an elf was even more rare. Having been trained in the Yursinean elven style unique to the forest elves, Maeir stepped fluidly amongst the men, slicing their bodies into bloody pieces, carving her sword into their flesh like a scalpel, covering the ground with fresh blood.
“Ahhh!” One of the men, having attempted to jump Maeir from behind, was swiftly stabbed in the eye by Maeir as she kicked the man in front of her with a heavy foot, sending the heavy man flying through the air, as if he weighed nothing.
“This fucking bitch! Kill her!” The man screamed, covering his bleeding eye with his hand, his body trembling in pain as blood gushed between the cracks of his fingers.
He waved his sword wildly, attempting to knock Maeir door with the sheer force, however she took the brunt of the hit with her sword, blocking him as her feet slid backwards, grimacing as blood dripped down her face, the blood none of her own. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, smearing the blood like a wild animal as her eyes shone like a leopard. The more blood that spilled on the ground, the higher Maeir’s excitement grew, leading more and more men to their deaths. They were strong, but using her mana to insulate her muscles, she was nearly unstoppable.
On the other side of the field, there were few men left to stand to fight, many of them in too poor of condition to fight any more. Their numbers were dwindling, leaving many to lay dead on the ground, sullied in their own blood as they fell still, watching as the lights dimmed in their eyes.
They had been so strong for so long, so powerful, but now, they had encountered one strong group that was able to wipe them out completely, as if they were nothing but second class vermin. It should have been impossible with such a small group of four, with two men no less, but they still found themselves wallowing in defeat. Watching as the last of his men fell, the leader could only make a rash decision to save his own life.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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However, before he could grab Silas, Clarence’s eyes widened as he stared at the leader, his mouth opening before he could stop himself. “Silas, move!”
Silas saw Clarence’s movements and he hurriedly ducked, rolled on the ground just as the man’s arms brushed against the tips of his hair. His dress tumbled with him, hiking up slightly as he moved rapidly out of the way, ignoring his exposed calves as he lifted his sword, preparing to help Clarence stop the man before he rapidly stopped, kneeling only a short distance away, his eyes wide.
The fiendish man wrapped his arm around Clarence’s neck, making his face turn a deeper shade of crimson. The veins in Clarence’s neck were visible, his tips shaking as he let out choked coughs, attempting to break the man’s grip at the center of his arms. He could not muster enough strength for him to free himself.
“Let him go!” Silas yelled, holding his sword in his hand, his gaze facing up at the largely built man.
“Move and he dies!” The man shouted back, his gaze falling on Silas with remarkable fury.
A trace of worry filled Silas’s heart as he stared forward, his eyes narrowing. He’s too valuable to just die here like this! I need to do something! Silas shook his head, holding his hand on his sword in a defensive posture.
Next to him, Maeir stood calm, staring at the young prince that had troubled her time and time again.
As much as I want to kill that young bastard. Maeir’s eyes fell on Silas, who was staring towards the bandit with an angry glare, his eyes fierce. I can’t let him lose another one of his comrades, even if I don’t like them. Maeir released a tense breath, gritting her teeth as her eyes fell to the side, watching a certain member of their team discreetly climb the valley’s dirt cliff, finding a higher position to mount her bow.
Staring forward, her eyes swiftly were directed forward, but Maeir laughed quietly to herself, knowing what was to come.
“What are you laughing about, you old fuck!?” The bandit yelled, forcing the knife closer to Clarence. “I’ll kill him, then wipe that dumb smile off your wrinkled face!”
Silas turned towards his mother, his expression full of questions, but Maeir could only stare back at the bandit and say in a casual tone. “Let me tell you before you kill the kid. It’s quite the story.”
The bandit growled, unsure how to remove himself from the pit he had fallen into.
Out of view, Jasmine had scaled a climbable portion of the moderately tall dirt walls covering either side of the small valley. The archers had long since been killed, leaving Jasmine to find an adequate spot to shoot from. One of the bows from the men was perfect for her height, and Jasmine was leisure as she kneeled in position, nocking an arrow as her fingers trailed across the feather fletchings, gripping the arrow as it rested on the string.
The wooden bow was remarkably simple, lacking even a grip to rest her hand on, however Jasmine ignored her discomfort and raised the tip of the arrow, her left eye fell shut as she pulled back the string with her right hand.
Much closer than I expected. Good. It won’t be a hard shot. She let out a breath, watching as Clarence’s face fell more and more red until she finally released the grip on her hand and let the arrow fly through the air, watching as it trailed through the air to its target with a thudding sound, the sound of skin being pierced.
Down in the valley, everyone fell still, staring at the sudden arrow that had stuck into the man’s forehead. The man paused, his breath stopped with a sudden choke as he stared upwards, his eyes falling cross eyed as they fell on the familiar wooden arrow sticking out of his head. The arrowhead had burrowed itself in deep enough to penetrate his skull, and soon blood leaked out of the hole it produced, staining the last of the man’s vision red.
“I won’t d-die alone here.” With the last of the strength he had, he tightened his grip further, attempting to break Clarence’s windpipe in the process, however before the man could, there was a slicing sound that broke through the air.
Silas’s eyes burned bright green, his bonnet shadowing half of his face as he held his bloodied sword, a frown lining his pale lips. “You’ll die today.” Silas’s sword had already pierced the man’s wrist and sliced across, cutting off half of the man’s wrist, causing him to lose his grip on Clarence.
“No!” The bandit leader shouted, his eyes dimming as Clarence fell to the ground, rolling to the side to dodge the large man as he took two large steps forward, clutching his sliced wrist with his other hand as he quickly fell to his knees, his heavy body shaking the ground. He wheezed, attempting to speak one more time before he stared at Clarence and said in a heavy tone, “A weak man like you, will never survive-” His words were cut short by the sound of his upper body falling, hitting the ground with an audible thump before the rest of his body fell silent.
There was a tremor in the air before the young prince spoke. “My God, he’s actually dead…” Clarence’s words trembled as he stared at the bloody scene in front of him.
Surrounded by the three stoic members of his group, he felt like a child. His body trembled unceasingly, his teeth threatening to chatter as he held his left hand with his right, attempting to keep himself still enough to retain some semblance of sanity. He had heard of people dying in the war, soldiers and elves falling to each other’s hands, but he had yet to end a life with his own. To see a man die so viciously in front of him, it was jarring. He nearly wanted to drop his sword, threatening to never raise it again.
But, as he stared towards Silas, who waved the blood off of his sword with a frown, he thought of something even more pressing for him. I want to protect him. The young prince thought, staring at the sword that had already been placed in its sheath. I want him to stay by my side, safe. I don’t want to make him worry anymore.
The young man was preoccupied, too much to notice Silas’s gaze at his injuries.
Silas held his chest, a dull feeling overcoming him as he stared at Clarence’s bruised neck with a faint glimpse of worry. Carefully, he reached into his satchel and grabbed a batch of herbs, his gaze falling on the darkening purple and red bruises on Clarence’s shapely neck as he said quietly, “We should treat those bruises before they become any worse. Come one, I’ll treat you as we walk. We can’t stay here any longer.”
The trembling feeling overwhelming Clarence stopped slowly. As he stared at the human-disguised elf, his chest filled with warmth. There was still fear lingering in his heart, but he could only think at that moment he had to survive.
Not for the elf at his side, but rather, for Silas.
Watching the two interact, Maeir frowned again, using a handkerchief to wipe the blood off of her hands, her eyes growing dim as she stared at the back of Clarence’s head. Her distaste slightly lessened for the young man, but it still was not enough for her to stop hating the noble.
“Hey, guys, they have quite a bit of interesting stuff over here!” Jasmine had already slid down the side of the dirt wall, moving towards the group with a rucksack full of coins, jewelry, and other pricey items that the bandits had stolen from other unsuspecting travelers. Maeir raised a brow, staring at the items Jasmine had spouted like war spoils. “With this, I could buy one of those pricey bottles of wine.” She mumbled, tallying up the coins with her fingers as she walked.
“Nevermind that. We need to get out of here. Take only what’s useful, and no more than that.” Maeir responded, sighing quietly to herself as she retracted her gaze. “Is there somewhere close we can wash off?”
The elves were particularly superstitious regarding death. Such a group of bandits, full of negative energy, they would only bring evil energy to the area. In any case, they could not attract any attention to themselves. Covered in blood as they were, they would have to change their clothes before they reached Camille’s mansion.
“There’s a lake not too far from here. We can use the extra clothes we packed and change into them before we continue on. If not, the guards would stop us in a heartbeat.” Jasmine sighed, shaking her head as she deposited part of her new earnings into her satchel. “Persistent little trolls… Might as well give you all a chance to wash off…” Everyone stared towards Maeir, who was drenched in blood. She did not seem bothered by it, and seemed rather joyful to have partaken in such an exciting battle.
Clarence felt a trace of fear staring at the woman, feeling as though he would have to continue his fight to become stronger, and strengthen his resolve if he wanted his love to overcome all the barriers that had been set.
Including his future mother-in-law.
No one wanted to ask about Jasmine’s previous escapades. Instead, they were all drenched in sweat and blood, feeling sticky and disgusting, and in dire need of a bath. Instead, Maeir nodded towards Jasmine, requesting she lead the way as the group hurried away from the graveyard that had been made, the smell of rot beginning to stain the fresh Spring air.
…
In the Yursear Palace, tensions began to rise, bringing with it a poor atmosphere enshrouding the entire palace.
“Macolm, we have something to discuss.” Charlotte said coolly, her voice containing not a trace of warmth as she stared at the man who had taken over the throne, usurping her husband, and leaving her now powerless as a queen in a foreign country.
Queen Racliffe, Clarence’s mother, was even more powerless than her. Clarence’s younger siblings, Julian and Eloise, both being under ten years old, were still children and did not understand what had happened. Charlotte feared for them, even though she was attempting to secure her own safety, she knew Clarence and his siblings were familiar. If anything were to happen to them, Clarence would be devastated.
For now, I can only think of my own safety. Charlotte was firm as she spoke, “Can we talk? It will only take a moment.” She stared towards Alywin, who looked just as unwilling as her to be standing in that room at that moment. Addressing Malcolm, she knew he would most likely send Alywin away directly, most likely unwilling to discuss such matters in front of him.
Her own maids were waiting dutifully outside. Basch stood behind her, near the door to the room as if standing guard. His appearance made previously-ambiguous atmosphere quickly dissipate, and soon there was tension filling the air at a fast rate, making it difficult to breathe.
Malcolm stood up, moving away from Alywin as he said with a smile, “This should only take a moment. Return to your quarters for now. We’ll talk later.” He sent Alywin away with a gentle tone, causing Charlotte to stare at Alywin with a veiled hint of surprise.
Alywin nodded his head wordlessly, walking past Charlotte with a tense expression, the princess’s eyes fixed on the man with a cold light. Alywin, feeling the fury in her gaze, directed his eyes low as he walked past Sir Basch, who had already opened the door for Alywin to leave, allowing the young marquis a chance to slip out with no further contact. With some relief, the door shut behind him, and the conversation inside became more tense.
Charlotte stood ten feet away from the duke, purposely keeping some distance as she spoke in a polite tone, “Due to the sudden events in the kingdom, my husband has been sent away and I am now married to a traitor.” Anger was thinly veiling in each of her words, dancing in her tone as if following a steady beat. “While I am still his queen and wife in name, I am curious as to what will happen if you are to take the throne.”
“My cousin had such plans. It should be no different having me inherit them, now, shall it?” Malcolm raised a brow, a smile dancing across his lips as disgusting words crawled from his mouth, bringing a severe feeling of disgust to Charlotte.
“Due to the sudden change in this kingdom,” Charlotte began to speak, her fingernails drilled into her palms, keeping her thinning patience at bay. “I would like to discuss this matter with my family before any plans are made, Duke Godfreed.”
Malcolm had his back straight, sitting tall as he added, “I discussed my plans with your family, and they are very much interested in a cooperation between our two kingdoms.” Charlotte bit her bottom lip, her eyes narrowing, “But I believe your family would prefer to discuss these new terms before another wedding could be arranged.”
The princess frowned, “I assure you, my family and I have much to discuss regarding this sudden transfer of power.” Stepping back, Charlotte curtseyed with a nod as she clenched the sides of her dress, barely grasping the thin strands of decorum left in her as she said curtly, “If you would excuse me, I will be arranging that contact. Until then, Duke Godfreed.”
Malcolm laughed, watching her every move like an amused spectator. “You can call me King Godfreed, Princess Charlotte.” He paused before he smiled brightly, adding a short bit more to his words. “Excuse me, Queen Charlotte.”
Basch’s expression grew dimmer, sensing his lady’s unease, but he was quickly held back by Charlotte’s retreating figure, her face grim and dark, hidden by the back of her head as the door to the room was swiftly opened, allowing her to escape before he growing anger overtook her in a fit of unbridled rage.
Charlotte stepped down the hall, preparing to unleash her growing anger in the privacy of her own quarters. Her fingers were trembling as she stared forward, her steps heavy as she thought to herself, How dare he… how dare he think of me as his wife? What am I, a tool? How dare he take my feelings for granted like this. Such a filthy pig. I’ll kill him. Her eyes flashed, full of killing intent.
Letting out a small sigh as she stepped, Charlotte continued forward, mantainting her gait as she walked, her maids trailing behind her in an orderly fashion. As she returned to the queen’s wing of the palace, she saw a familiar figure standing at the end of the hall, her face particularly pale against her light brown hair. The spring pink dress around her body made her appear even more pale.
It could only be one person.
“Philomena.” Charlotte said aloud, holding back her surprise. The woman had other official matters to attend to as her lady in waiting.
As the pair walked, Philomena’s hands trembled,
“We need to talk.” Tears threatened to fall from the corner of Philomena’s eyes. “Please.” She let out a small sigh, blinking her eyes repeatedly as Charlotte swiftly led her towards a less busy hall, directing the pair to head back to Charlotte’s quarters in a discreet fashion.
“When we arrive at my room, please wait outside.” Charlotte said before her gaze fell onto Basch to her right, her eyes full of blazing fury from the previous event of the day.
He only stared back, knowing more trouble was to come.
…
Hi all! Back a little late, but done~~ I was actually at an event today with Hunny helping her work, so we finished this up just as we got back 😀 Very much looking forward to moving into more physical developments between the two, but it’s going to start just very much like head pats and other stuff, no kissing! We’ll get there, but for now, savor the flavor of platonic touch (lol)!
Next week we will be attending a con for a much needed break, so we will be returning again November 13th with Chapter 119! My college friend and my siblings are all going with me together, and I can’t wait! I’ve been working 10 hours lately the past week (ugh), so I’m pretty drained. 8:15 am meeting tomorrow too…. I’m dying……
Thanks always for your lovely comments, views, etc. as they are always appreciated!! They make me crack a smile ;u; especially this past very busy month! Have a great week, all, and see you on the 13th! >u<
Edit: Also I used to instruct archery, so I couldn’t resist using the bow terms, since I literally had to take a test on it lol
EDIT EDIT: OML I FORGOT THE 2ND ANNIVERSARY DRAWING HERE!! SORRY!!
That’s okay. We appreciate the chapter.
Thank you.