Enlightened Empire

Chapter 463: Bloody Night

 

Not for the first time, Inkasius stood in front of this nondescript stone block on the edge of Challwala's inner city. Hidden behind these walls was one of King Amautu's newest projects, and, as far as Inkasius was concerned, the shame of the northern kingdom. Inside, he would find 'Terminus', an organization created to wipe out all enemies of the king, no matter the price.

Truly a detestable place, he couldn't help but think. Still, the orders had to be fulfilled, even though they hadn't come from his lord this time.

Rather, King Amautu's senior brother had personally burdened him with the immoral task. Of course, Inkasius was unwilling from the start, even before he had heard the contents of his mission.

In the first place, he served House Pluritac, not some foreign invader. In order to survive, he had become a 'disciple' of King Amautu, but he was still a medalan warrior at heart. Even in the culture of the scholars, he was only subordinate to King Amautu, his nominal master. He certainly wasn't this self-satisfied foreigner's 'disciple'.

Not to mention, Inkasius always had the feeling that this senior was on bad terms with his king, and that this greedy snake had been aiming for the throne, or the destruction of the kingdom, or both. Thus, he wouldn't listen to any of this 'senior disciple's' words, no matter how much he threatened or cursed. Otherwise, Inkasius could unknowingly commit treason for simply following orders.

However, after that senior had made a fuss about the warrior's 'disrespectful attitude', King Amautu himself had indicated that just this one time, these orders were to be followed. Clearly, 'senior brother' was taking a perverse joy in seeing him unhappy as he forced his orders onto him, a simple message transport any lowly servant could have handled.

However, when he heard the exact contents of the message, and the identity of the recipient, he understood why the king's fellow disciple had picked someone so important to carry out the orders.

Thus, again his better judgment, he once more did as he was told. At the very least, King Amautu's submissive attitude this time was highly suspicious, and not at all how the king would usually act. Maybe, Inkasius though, he didn't have the full picture. At least one more time, he would trust his king. He would betray his own judgment, and trust that his lord knew what was best.

Thus, he pulled out the bamboo role which contained the orders, a list of names, all of whom enemies of the kingdom who were to be removed. This time, those enemies included an Oriental, whose death Inkasius didn't particularly mind. However, the orders weren't limited to outsiders alone. Not even the lords of the kingdom would be spared any longer. Once he stepped through this door and presented his orders, any medalan lord currently in this city would become the target of the northern kingdom's most dangerous organization.

As a warrior of Medala, he was entirely opposed to the idea, yet he had already made his decision. By now, he knew too much, so he couldn't just fail to fulfill his orders. His safety, and that of his family, were on the line. Last time he had come here, he had met King Amautu's former attendant, who had become the king's disciple after he had converted to the Way. The broken state of the king's former attendant still gave Inkasius nightmares to this day, an image powerful enough to deter any disobedience.

Thus, with a heavy heart, he went inside, to order the assassination of the kingdom's upper class, and possibly provoke a war against the kingdom of the South. A dark night lay ahead for the people of this city, for now the End was coming.

Old-familiar sounds awoke the young Lord Atoc Rubria from his sleep. Back in his youth, his home of Yakuharra had frequently suffered from northern barbarian attacks. Every winter, they would rushed down the mountains in search of food and plunder, and Yakuharra had acted as the shield of the empire against these invaders.

As a child, Rubria had been awoken by the sounds of fighting more than once. After his father's early death, his anxiety had gotten even worse. Thus, the memories of his youth drove him out of bed and his hand onto his axe handle before he even understood what was happening. Though a swift look out the window made him understand his situation very quickly.

An attack in the middle of Challwala. How bold.

It had been a while since Yakuharra had last been attacked by the barbarians. Not since he had struck a deal with the northern tribes had he experienced a direct threat like this. However, Lord Rubria didn't feel threatened in the slightest, despite the sudden appearance of the invaders. Out of the window, his guards were fighting off the robed and masked attackers in good order. Already, the yard was brightly lit, which allowed him to see that his men had a significant advantage in numbers, and looked well-organized.

Luckily, we came prepared.

If Lady Antaya hadn't informed him that this trip would be dangerous, he would have never brought so many guards. He also would have never disguised so many of them as merchants and let them enter the city in advance, to confuse the enemy about their strength. Now, it appeared as if his trust in the lady's information network had paid off once more.

Though this lord cannot thank you this time, my dear lady. This time, your favor has caused quite the mess for this lord.

In the first place, Atoc Rubria had only come to join this dubious meeting in the snake's den that was Challwala because Lady Antaya had asked him for a favor. Otherwise, the cautious young lord would have simply remained in his home by the mountains and watched the fireworks from there.

The distant scholars of Chutwa had barely reached out to his home, and his tight grip on his small community, the conservative and combative character of the locals, as well as his deals with the barbarians had made his estate almost impenetrable by foreign influences. Since he had no worries about his safety back home, he had been ready to throw out his invitation for this meeting of the northern lords. Only when Lady Antaya had personally asked him did he reconsider.

Maybe after she has caused us so much trouble, the lady would be more willing to return the favor this time.

At the thought of the mature Lady Antaya's figure hidden underneath her dress, Rubria had to wipe away the drool around his mouth. Over years of meetings, he had desired the lady more and more, though she had never once accepted his advances. Maybe this time, gratitude or guilt would make her more receptive to his courtship.

Just as the young Lord Rubria was stuck in his fantasies, his door was shoved open with enough force to slam against the wall. Though the noise roused Atoc from his dreams, he still had nothing to fear, he thought, since the man who had entered was his personal attendant Kizco.

"Lord, the men cannot hold," the warrior with the disheveled hair and the panicked look said. "We need to leave."

For some, there might be something to fear after all, Rubria thought. His attendant wasn't usually the timid type, so the lord had no reason doubt his closest servant. Still, he couldn't help but question the news.

"What? How can our men be this useless?" he shouted. "We have the advantage in numbers, and we have been expecting them in advance! How are we still losing!?"

This made no sense. Hadn't he only just seen through the window that everything was going well? Yet when Rubria looked back into the yard again, he realized that the situation had dramatically turned for the worse in the short time he had spent dreaming about his dream woman.

As soon as his focus returned to his warriors, one of them pierced a masked intruder with a spear in his abdomen, a blow which would incapacitate any man. Yet despite the blood which sprayed from his stomach, the masked attacker simply pushed on, as if the deadly wound on his body didn't exist.

In the end, he drove the spear all the way through himself and continued to charge towards Rubria's warrior. In shock, the defender took a step back and stumbled over something in the dark. When the warrior fell over, the masked attacker jumped on him like a ferocious beast and clawed at him with his bare hands, the spear still embedded in his body. Similar scenes were happening all over the yard, which was now littered with bodies from both sides.

"They are fighting as if their lives do not matter. And they are strong like bulls," Kizco explained, before he added in a shuddering voice: "They are not human."

Faced with the confused ramblings of his attendant, as well as the man's empty stare of shock, Rubria finally realized that the situation had gone completely out of control.

"Very well, then we shall make use of our escape plan," he ordered immediately. Luckily, Rubria had prepared well in advance. Thus, he and his attendant made their way through the secret passage hidden within this family manor in Challwala. Since the dust-covered hidden trap door hadn't been used in a century, Rubria was quite certain that no outsiders would know about their escape path. By the time those attackers breached into the manor proper and found the hidden entrance, he would be long gone.

Vile creatures! I will never forgive you for killing my men!

Now that the numbness of shock had worn off, Rubria became angry, rather than scared. These had been his best men, many of them battle companions and close friends who had stuck with the family when they had struggled so much after father's death. Now, they had died just like this, a month's journey from their home. At least, Atoc knew where to direct his anger. Their masks wouldn't help them, he knew exactly who the assassins were.

Who else but the king's foreign hordes could have done something so vile, in such blatant disregard of medalan customs? Who else but those so-called scholars would show such religious fanaticism in a fight? Now that these villains had tried to stop him, he was even more determined to attend the meeting with the southern kingdom's minister. Not only would he attend, he would push for the harshest punishment for their good King Amautu who thought he was invincible as he trampled their rights, just because he was hiding behind his servants.

Yet just as Atoc was thinking about his revenge, a cloth covered his mouth and nose before he could react.

"Don't move," he heard, and a blade pressed into his back as well.

Who talked? Who betrayed me? Rubria thought, yet he could do nothing. Not long after, more unknown figures carried him away into the night.

Lord Gratidia had been doing an awful lot of losing recently. Yet ever since he had allowed Lady Inti and that foreigner to get involved in his family affairs, things had turned for the better.

After several moons of fighting, the scholars — and the ruffians they had backed — retreated out of Rhodanos again. At last, he was in charge of his own estate once more, free from the influence of the greedy King Amautu.

Though it hadn't been gratitude which drove him here to Challwala. Rather, he was afraid of the consequences should the meeting fail. If the southern merchant didn't receive explicit support from the northern lords during this meeting, Gratidia feared that the coward would run back south, and leave the northern lords to their devices.

Without the threat of the southern kingdom's intervention, King Amautu would surely come back for revenge. Rhodanos had experienced a king's revenge once before, and could not withstand a second time. Thus, Lord Gratidia had come to Challwala in person, to guarantee that this meeting of the northern lords would be a success.

Yet before he ever learned the exact time or location of the meeting, he had been surprised by a sudden attack from an unknown enemy in the night. Never had Gratidia thought that someone would dare send out so many troops to assassinate him in the middle of the north's capital.

Surely, even King Amautu would have to fear the loss of reputation this sort of attack brought with it. Yet the proof was undeniable, and right in front of him. A horde of foes had come to attack out of nowhere, enough to kill any warrior. However, Lord Gratidia was done with losing, and showed why the late emperor had awarded him his estate in the first place.

Blood had splattered all over his face, but it wasn't his own. The exhausted lord took a heavy breath and looked around at the battlefield he had survived. Just now, this had been a violent brawl, involving two dozen warriors. Now, he was one of only four men left standing, and the only one without any injuries. After all, Gratidia was the one with the most battle experience out of anyone, possibly across all of Medala.

Their enemies had been inferior in numbers, yet their strength had been absurd. Despite their slim frames and mangled postures, these masked figures had the strength of tigers as they charged them head-on. Yet in the end, strategy — and Gratidia's on-the-spot decision making — had made the difference. In formation, his well-trained men had made up for their disadvantage in raw strength, and slowly ground down their reckless enemies.

Although all but three of his men had died in the process, he couldn't help but think that these attackers had missed a trick.

If they are assassins, why did they attack from the front? Any ambush would have been more effective, even a poor one.

This was only the first of many questions Gratidia had, the next most pressing being the identities of the masked attackers. Thus, the lord walked up to one of the felled monsters, and reached out for its mask.

Now then, let's see who you really are, he thought, though he already had a good idea who had sent them. Yet his fingers never reached the mask to confirm his suspicions.

"Lord, there are more incoming!" he heard one of his remaining men shout.

Only then did he realize that they were surrounded by another half a dozen masked figures, three in front and three in the back. His men were injured, exhausted, and this time they no longer had an advantage in numbers. There was no escape.

Another defeat then, the lord just thought, as he slowly raised his axe, ready for one final fight to the death.

When Cossus di Caecina had been sent to Challwala to represent Lord Caecina in a meeting of the lords, he had considered it a great honor, and an even greater opportunity. Not many warriors would ever have the pleasure of being treated like a lord. Not to mention, Cossus was also looking forward to the bribes he expected to collect from all available sides. So long as he didn't make trouble for his lord during this meeting, he knew he was safe to collect as much as he could carry.

Once he returned back home, he would have had both wealth and prestige. It had been perfect, the next step in a successful life aimed towards the top.

So where did everything go wrong?

The attackers had come in the middle of the night and had relentlessly mowed down any living thing in the manor. In the chaos, he had somehow managed to escape into the city, yet he hadn't made it far. After he had dragged his exhausted body along half a street, he had vaulted over a random courtyard wall. Now his back pressed against the cold stones, while his breath raced to match his racing heart.

Damn, damn! Don't find me, don't find me!

The same thoughts turned and turned in his head, yet his prayers would not be answered. Out of the darkness, a black figure unveiled itself like death personified. Frozen from shock and exhaustion, Cossus could only watch as the creature charged at him. Before he had noticed, a short sword was stuck deep in his chest.

Only now, at the end of his life, was Cossus able to overcome his fear. Filled with the desperation only the fear of death could bring, his weak hands clawed at the attacker, but he only managed to pull the black hood of his face. What he found underneath was no monster, but a simple man, old and thin, with sallow skin and dark-blue cheeks. Yet in his eyes, buried deep within his haggard face, burned a fanatical flame which threatened to devour everything.

"The end has come," the old man whispered, and pushed the sword deeper.