Oh God, before I knew it, it's already been about two months since I last updated. O:
Sorry for the wait, people! Between summer school and *coughPlayingROagaincough* I just couldn't find my writing groove!
This chapter took a while to start; I had trouble deciding which direction to take with regards to plot and character development; but in the end, I felt that this was the best choice.
JenEvan: Hehe, right again. And just from reading this next chapter, it'll be even more clear that the shit will hit the fan. :D
asdfasdfg: Yaaaaaaaaaaay! Another reader! And so many reviews! O_O Well it's not that I'm complaining~. Thanks for spending the time to review every chapter!
ValkyrieX: Haha, thanks! It really makes me glad to hear that.
kllkjk: I'm just glad that you reviewed chapter 16. Does that mean you sat through 16 chapters before reviewing? :D :D :D
Capital City Prontera, three months later
They were only delaying the inevitable; sooner or later, they would all fall before the might of the Pronteran knights and crusaders. His own Zephyrus had broken a long time ago – he was relying on Perceus Green's Zweihander now. It seemed ages since the day Ozworth tossed him the sword.
"Reinbach!" a voice called. The blonde knight turned his head sharply to the owner's voice. He saw Argos walking briskly towards him.
"You're not dead," Reinbach noted, nodding in relief. "Then the plan worked."
"How many from your group are still accounted for?" asked the young assassin.
Reinbach averted his gaze. "Less than half…"
"Half!?"
"It took all we had to stay alive… Zimba is missing… Juniper Weiss – he died. Olin Ozworth – I'm fairly certain he's dead. I can't say for sure whether Caroline Cook is going to survive through her injuries, and you know what happened to Neptunia… Only Captain Graves, Professor Williams, and I remain uninjured. How about on your side?"
"Spider died. Eurie and Nicholas haven't returned yet. I'm all that's left."
"Spider is dead!?"
The assassin nodded.
"Only four left…" The knight fell wearily to his armored knees to the cobblestones. "Four people against the entirety of Prontera's military…"
Argos allowed Reinbach a brief moment of mourning before speaking up.
"You know what we have to do."
Reinbach punched his fist into the ground. "…I know. We've gone too far to turn back. Even if our numbers dwindle to one, we need to keep pressing on. We're gambling everything we have on Daphne."
Comodo smithy, present
The man was old, but powerfully built, and it was evident even as he sat hunched over the pair of icicle katars on the shining anvil. Wrinkles lined his forehead, eyes and mouth, and a long gray mustache swung slightly as he raised and slammed his hammer down on the katars again and again, sending sparks with each blow. Sweat dripped down his heavy, drawn brows, and his eyes radiated a fierce passion that was reflected into his work. Gradually, the weapon was becoming more and more battle-worthy. A young, black-haired man watched the mastersmith work on his katars.
Richard King, codenamed Argos, had changed much during the past three weeks. His hair had grown longer in the back, similar to Spider, his senior partner's hairstyle. His red-pupil eyes, once untrusting and cynical, had grown a little less angry and bitter. He leaned against the wall of the smithy with his arms crossed, tapping his feet every once in a while, but not in an impatient manner.
Argos took a look around the sweltering smithy while the mastersmith hammered his icicle katars into shape. All along the walls hung a huge collection of weapons: axes, swords, a variety of maces, and even some iron figurines. Along one wall of the room were large crates full of ores and metals, filled to the brim. A red hot forge sat in the far corner of the smithy, occasionally belching out fumes and flames.
"Can you finish by tonight?" Argos asked.
The old man paused to wipe the sweat off his brow and gave the young assassin a stern glare.
"Don't make me laugh, punk," he growled. "Two hours."
He resumed his steady rhythm, clanging heavily.
"I'll have it picked up by then, Jefe."
Jefe only grunted in response, not stopping his rhythmic hammering.
The young assassin walked out of the smithy and was greeted by a fresh ocean breeze that felt cool in comparison to the heat inside. His hair, slightly damp with sweat, welcomed the ocean wind and ruffled slightly as Argos paused a moment to rub his stiff shoulder muscles.
Right then, he thought. I better not keep Eurie waiting.
He began strolling along the various huts and stands strewn across the beach, "accidentally" bumping into a fruit stand where a rude, fat merchant was hocking his wares.
"Watch your step, punk!" the merchant barked, his jowls of fat quivering angrily.
Argos smiled innocently.
"Ah, I apologize, sir," he said, giving a small bow of his head, with one hand behind his back clutching a shiny red apple. "That was my fault."
"Then get going!"
"Of course. My deepest apologies." The apple disappeared under his mantle.
There was a soft giggle off to the edge of the foliage where the lush, tropical trees met the beach.
"You ask him!"
"No, you do it!"
Over the past twenty days or so, ever since his arrival in Comodo, he gradually found himself smiling more, laughing more often, and tolerating the company of others. And with that gradual change, young women his age seemed to smile around him more often, look his way, and introduce themselves, among other things.
Two dancers in their teens were bantering quietly under the shade at the edge of the nearby foliage, occasionally sneaking glances at Argos. Before he met Spider, Argos would probably have been irritated, scowled at the two, and then walked away. But things were different now; rather than irritated, he found himself amused. He smirked.
Before Argos could walk back to the others in his group, one of the dancers approached him, dragging the other by hand. She flicked a long, black tassel of hair behind her ear and spoke to him confidently.
"Hi! My friend Tricia here happened to notice that you ripped off that lout Horace's merchandise, and she wanted to ask you how you do it so well."
"Stella!" Tricia gasped, mortified.
"What?" Stella asked, batting her friend's shoulder. "I'm just asking what you were too nervous to ask."
"Oh no, you were looking at me?" Argos sighed, feigning dismay. "How embarrassing."
The dancers tittered in amusement.
"By the way, this is Tricia, and I'm Stella – we just passed the dancer's test the other day." She held out her hand for Argos to shake.
"H-hello," Tricia said softly.
"Oh, congratulations! I'm Kristoph Reinbach," Argos greeted, smiling sweetly, and shook the proffered hand. "You must be excited."
"Don't worry, we won't tell anyone what you did," assured Stella. "No one really likes that merchant anyways."
"Right!" Tricia piped up.
Stella nudged her friend with an elbow.
"U-ummm! T-tonight! Are you busy tonight?" Tricia blushed deeply.
Argos looked upward, as if mentally checking his schedule.
"No, I believe my evening is open. Is there something you want to ask me?"
"I-If you would like, please come to the dancers' performance at sunset in the city center!"
"Ah! That sounds exciting! I'll look forward to it!" Argos said.
Tricia's already red face blushed even deeper.
"So what do you do, Kristoph?" Stella asked.
Argos paused, leaned forward and locked eyes with her. He stepped just barely inside Stella's personal space, his red ember eyes shining brightly.
"I'm an assassin," he smiled dangerously. "I kill people."
The two dancers froze, petrified.
"Here you go," Argos placed the apple in Tricia's trembling hand. She squeaked, her once flushed face now white. "You wanted one, right?" He patted Stella on the head in a friendly manner. "Show me some dance moves next time I see you, okay?" The assassin continued walking, humming.
The two of them ran without a second glance behind them.
"Ahhh… no," A black haired young sage sighed in dismay, his hand outstretched towards the fleeing dancers. "You were doing so well until that last part – why did you have to ruin it?"
"Oh, it's Tuna," Argos said.
"That's Neptunia!" the sage emphasized exasperatedly. "How many times have I told you?"
Next to him, the real Kristoph Reinbach ran a bandaged right hand through his short blonde hair.
"Could you please not use my name next time? More importantly, stop acting like that, it's… creepy."
"You can use my name though," Neptunia offered.
"Sure, Tuna. Pick up my icicle katars at Jefe's in two hours, then."
"It's TUNA – Aaargh! You even got me saying it! And I'm not your servant, why should I have to – "
"I'll introduce you to Stacy and Alicia next time I see them," Argos said.
"Feel free to call me Tuna!" Neptunia smiled, flashing Argos a winning smile. He turned and walked along the beach without them, with an extra bounce in his step.
"H-hey, were they really named Stacy and Alicia?" Reinbach asked quietly.
"Honestly, I don't even remember anymore," Argos admitted.
The knight shook his head, resigned. "It really is creepy seeing you act like this," he muttered. "Definitely preferred the old you."
"Hmm? Did you say something?"
"Don't keep Eurie waiting!"
Comodo Beach
"Here I come," Eurie said.
The blindfold fit snugly around his eyes, effectively blocking out all light. Argos took a deep breath and widened his stance. Any moment now. He heard soft footsteps in the sand, and twisted to the left as quickly as he could. There was a sharp crack, and he felt the whip miss his arm – by how much he did not know.
Crack!
Another attack – this time near his left foot. He jumped backwards with a snap of his legs, kicking up a little sand. His mind wandered back to a conversation he had with Spider a month ago.
Three weeks ago
"There's no telling when Ghost will drop by again," Spider said. "We need to be ready when that time comes, and we needed to be ready yesterday."
Argos nodded.
"Right now, we're in the Beach City Comodo." The older man knelt down to the sand and grabbed a fistful of sand. "We're surrounded by sand nearly everywhere we go. Already, we're at a disadvantage to Ghost's favorite attacking style…" He relaxed his grip, spilling sand between his fingers.
"Diving underground into the sand… then sending up Grimtooth spikes…"
"It's the basis of his codename: An invisible, untouchable threat, a phantom, a ghost. It's a simple strategy, but nonetheless, very effective. We've seen it for ourselves – he used earth katars. Those weapons by themselves are magically enchanted to induce temporary loss of sight into their targets: That, and the sand flying up because of the Grimtooth spikes… You understand the principle behind it, kid?"
"Basically, I need to rely less on my eyesight and more on my hearing… But that's easier said than done! Trying to see with my ears?"
Spider gave a small disappointed frown. "You've already done it before, sport."
Argos blinked in surprise. "I have?"
"Remember what the entrance to the guild headquarters looked like?"
"How could I; that place was pitch black… Ah!!!" he froze with realization.
A very vivid memory flashed in his head, of him walking blindly, but confidently down a dark corridor, being able to judge the distance in front of him by the echoes of his footsteps.
"H-how did I…"
Spider shook his head, smiling. "It's a basic assassin skill. Of course, there's a huge difference between an enclosed stone corridor and an open beach with sand. All this sand will dampen the sound, and the ambiance of the open air will make it much harder. But it's not impossible, and we have the perfect teacher for you right here."
"You mean Eurie…" Argos scowled.
"There's no one better qualified than her!" Spider argued. "She's had to rely on her hearing for years."
"So what are you saying I should do?"
"There's a specific training regimens that some knights undergo to deal with invisible types like assassins like us and rogues. Two knights are tied together by their right ankles, are blindfolded, and then take turns attacking each other."
Argos shook his head. "That sounds like the most masochistic, brutal, and senseless training method I've ever heard of."
"But it worked! Many knights reported developing a sort of intuition in battle, after going through that training. They said that their reflexes were somehow tuned to better parry attacks from unseen opponents."
"…Then are you saying Eurie and I be tied together and take turns punching each other?"
Spider gave him a slightly alarmed expression.
"That's no way to treat a lady, sport. Just watch, in one month, I'll fix that behavior of yours, mark my words."
Present
He twisted and dodged another crack of Eurie's whip, but lost his balance and fell to his knees. Another crack of the whip, and he found that his wrists were bound tightly, rendering him unable to move.
"Heya folks," Zimba greeted, walking onto the beach from the dense thicket. "Whaddya doin'… WOAH, WHAT'S GOIN' ON HERE?" He dropped the bag of baked goods in his arms in surprise.
To the outsider, it must have seemed suggestive indeed – A shirtless Argos, blindfolded and bound by Eurie's whip, while the dancer was standing over the assassin. Eurie immediately dropped her whip and raised her hands defensively, her face flushed with embarrassment.
"No, this – well, you see –"
"Didn't know you were into that kinda stuff!" Zimba exclaimed, looking at the two. "At least do it in private!"
"Idiot. It's training. TRAINING," Argos sighed, putting emphasis on the word. "Don't involve me in your twisted fantasies." He slid the blindfold off his head.
Zimba blinked a couple of times, and then laughed.
"Haha! Izzat so? Ya, well, I got ya folks some food here," the rogue said, while picking up the dropped bag of pastries. "Tabby, Daphne and Caroline sent 'em from where they're hidin' out."
The three of them sat down on the sand, and helped themselves to the pastries, staring quietly at the surf.
"Any word on the outside?" Eurie asked, after having been handed a roll.
"S'posed to be meetin' with a friend this afternoon," Zimba said between bites. "You remember Kardac?"
"That stalker who was keeping your group together after Volkov left?"
"Yeah, him. 'pparently he's got contacts all over Morroc, so he'll be one of the first guys to know when somethin' interestin' happens."
There was a rustling in the foliage behind them as Neptunia emerged from behind the palm trees.
"H-hey," he said. "I've brought the katars."
"Tolby!" Zimba greeted. "Doin' errands fer assassin boy now, are ya?"
"I'm a slave to no one but love!" the sage sighed dramatically. "Argos said he would introduce me to two lovely girls if I'd bring his katars back to him.
"I did, didn't I?" Argos mused, enjoying his strawberry jelly bun. "But then again, the name I used was Kristoph Reinbach; maybe it'd be better if the knight boy did it instead. If I do it, it would be lying."
"AH! You jerk!" Neptunia cried. "You tricked me again!"
Zimba burst out in hysterical laughter. "Not his fault if ya keep falling for it, Tuna!" the rogue managed. Over the past few weeks, Argos noted a lively friendship bloom between the rogue and the sage. They were on close enough terms to laugh at each other's small misfortunes with no ill intent; almost inseparable.
"Ya know, if ya wanted to meet girls so bad, why didn't ya become a bard instead? They meet plenty o' dancers 'cause of their jobs."
Neptunia sighed gloomily and looked downward. "My family wouldn't have it," he shook his head.
"Eh? Why not?" Zimba asked.
"I came from a long line of wizards and high wizards. Everyone kept on telling me I had to live up to the family name, saying things like 'Why couldn't you be more like your brother; when he was your age, he became High Wizard.' Eventually I became a sage because I couldn't take living up to my family's expectations anymore." He chuckled. "They were furious. If I had become a bard instead…" He drew an imaginary line across his neck with his finger.
"Even then!" the rogue continued, "I bet yer brother is real popular with the ladies! High Wizard at your age?"
Neptunia stared into the surf. His violet eyes looked lost, reminiscing in past memories.
"No. That guy died a long time ago."
There was an awkward silence, and all attempts to cheer Neptunia up were abandoned.
"Is Kristoph's arm still bandaged?" Eurie said, changing the subject.
"Yes'm," Zimba slurred. "That's why we're doin' the training ev'ry day now, innit?"
"Speaking of which, aren't you supposed to be training with him right now?" Argos asked.
"Hey! Zimba!" Reinbach's voice called from the distance. "Where are you!?"
"Speak of the devil," drawled the rogue. "There's the training geek right now. Why do I gotta be the one to help him?"
"Captain Graves explained it to you, didn't he?" Eurie said. "Out of all of us, you were the best suited for the job."
"Yeah, yeah," Zimba sighed. "Don't get yer panties in a bunch, I'm goin', I'm goin'." He wolfed down the last few bites of his apple fritter and stood up, brushing off sand from his pants.
Reinbach emerged from the foliage where Neptunia walked through earlier.
"There you are," he frowned. "You missed today's training too."
"Take it easy, man," said Zimba. "We still got a week or so. You want some food?"
Reinbach scowled.
"it's that kind of mentality that'll get us in trouble," the knight said. "It's almost three o' clock; we could have fit a couple of hours training by now."
"THREE!?" Zimba cried. "Holy smokes, we gotta get crackin'!"
"I'm glad you understand the – "
"No, we're supposed to meet with Kardac at three!"
"WHAT!?" Reinbach cried. "Why didn't you tell us earlier!?"
Outside the Shellfish Pub
The Shellfish Pub was a seedy wooden shack of a bar sitting not too far from the rhythmic surf. Raucous laughs from inside floated out into the ocean air, amidst the scattered clinking of glasses. A couple of drunk sailors stumbled outside the pub, singing tunelessly.
"Should be here," Zimba muttered. "I think."
Reinbach planted his face into his palm and sighed. "You think…" he repeated. They walked cautiously into the pub.
"If it ain't Zimba!" a male stalker with a ragged mane of black hair greeted from a stool at the bar. Sitting next to Kardac was the paladin, Grant Graves. "You still alive?" They made their way to the bar stools next to the stalker and took their seats. The bartender, noting their young appearances, eyed them critically. Argos glared back at the man, who looked away nervously.
"Howdy, Kardac!" Zimba laughed, as the two them clapped each other's hands. "Jeez, it's been what, three weeks now? You doin' okay?"
"Yeah, just about."
"Hey, kids," Grant said.
"So got any news on boss?" asked Zimba.
Kardac sobered instantly. "Yeah. We found him."
"Ya did? Where?"
"We found him leading the squadron of Prontera knights, looking for you folks."
There was a loud bang as Reinbach slammed his fist into the bar counter. His knuckles were white and trembling, and his eyes wide with dismay and incredulity. Grant's brows furrowed deeply; apparently Kardac had already told him the news beforehand.
"WHAT!?" the knight shouted. The entire bar fell silent. "You mean Alexei Volkov has been chosen for the Royal Justice of Knights!?"
Neptunia's face darkened at the mention of the man's name.
"Who's this Alexei Volkov?" Eurie asked.
Grant opened his mouth to explain, but Neptunia beat him to it.
"Former Lord Knight, with a bounty of five million zeny," the sage said quietly, as the chatter in the pub returned to normal. "Wanted for highway robbery and multiple counts of murder. Though I suppose if he's the Royal Justice of Knights, then the Pope would have to pardon all his crimes first."
Kardac nodded. "I'd give them about five days before they start searching in nearby cities, and eventually show up in Comodo. If you folks are thinking about avoiding them, I suggest you start planning."
"So how d'ya know so much about our boss?" Zimba asked, looking at Neptunia.
"It's… something I'd rather not talk about."
"What's it to you, kid?" Kardac asked. "Why do you care who our boss is?"
There was a tense and awkward silence.
"I thought I told you I didn't want to talk about it," Neptunia said.
"Hey, hey," Zimba protested. "Let's just leave it at that, alright?"
"Tch." Kardac turned back to the bar with a scowl and finished the remainder of his drink in one gulp.
"So I'm sure you've expected this choice sooner or later," Grant said stern facedly. "Sooner or later, the two of you will have to choose between your former boss Volkov or us."
"Yeah," Zimba grimaced. "What a troublesome choice."
"We need to know now. Pick your allegiance."
"I'm sure I've told you before," Kardac sighed. "All we want to do is roam the deserts of Morroc with the boss again. Stuff like 'allegiance' or 'choosing sides' is too much of a hassle for us to think about. At the very least, we can safely say that we'd hate siding up with a flock of bird-riding knights and crusaders from Prontera if we had to."
"Can't even have a straight-forward answer," Grant sighed. "Well, I have to go work on some unfinished business. There's a starling that needs taking care of."
Reinbach shot him a significant glance.
"Any of you need a message delivered to the other half of our group?" the paladin asked.
"Tell Spider that training is going as planned," Argos said.
"Um… nothing comes to mind," Eurie said.
Neptunia remained silent, still brooding.
Reinbach was suddenly interested in fiddling with a lovely white flower pinned on his bandolier. Grant took note of this.
"Did you want that delivered?" he asked.
"W-well… How should I say this…" Reinbach mumbled. "If it isn't too much trouble…"
The paladin clamped his hand on the knight's shoulder firmly but gently.
"Reinbach. I'd like to talk to you about something, if you don't mind." There was something in his voice that allowed no compromise.
"Of course," the knight said. He and Grant walked to the far corner of the bar away from the other patrons and sat down at a table.
"Who is Daphne Trenton to you?" Grant asked, without preamble. Reinbach was thrown slightly off guard.
"She… well… she's a friend," the knight stammered.
Grant gave him a piercing look.
"Okay, fine," Reinbach admitted. "I've wanted to be more than just a friend for a long time now."
The paladin hung his head and sighed sadly. "I was afraid of that," he said.
"Sir?"
"You know who she is, Reinbach. You know what title she bears."
"Yes, sir," he said in a small voice. Reinbach knew instantly where this was headed.
"And you know what duty you must serve, as a knight,"
"Yes, sir," Reinbach repeated, even quieter.
"A knight exists to serve his queen. He is exactly as what his duty describes – he is a servant. I'm sorry to tell you this, but a servant and his master must never stand on equal terms."
"I-I just thought, us being childhood friends – "
"Reinbach," Grant said, looking pained. He placed his hands over the knight's. "I know it hurts. I know it seems unfair. But that's just the cruel reality of it. For you, you must never show anything beyond fealty and obedience to her. You must become less than a friend, because that's what being a knight is about. He places the will of the throne above himself."
Countless thoughts raced through his head, but Reinbach was at loss for words. Part of him wanted to deny everything that the paladin just said, but somewhere inside him, he knew that there was no running away from the truth. Grant was right. There were no excuses for his feelings for Daphne.
"…I understand," mumbled Reinbach finally, betraying his own emotions. A deep unrest stirred deeply in his chest.
"That's a good lad," Grant said quietly. "It won't be easy, cutting off your feelings. Keeping close to the queen-to-be in servitude, but distant in heart? The very idea seems preposterous, but I know you can do it. Your feelings will change."
"Yes, sir," the knight said, feeling miserable.
"It's best that I told you now," sighed Grant. "In fact, I should have noticed it earlier and had this talk as soon as possible."
For a while, the two of them sat silently at the table. Reinbach looked downwards at his hands, unable to look the paladin in the eye.
"Well," said Grant. "I suppose I should be headed off to the rendezvous point to wait for the others. Normally, I would ask you if you wanted to come along, but it would be in your best interests not to follow."
"Of course," Reinbach replied, feeling hollow.
The paladin stood up from the table and left the pub. Reinbach dragged himself slowly back to the bar.
"What did Sir Graves want?" Eurie asked.
"Er… he was just asking about my training," Reinbach lied, forcing a smile.
It was either that the strain from the fake smile was so heavy that it leaked into his voice, or Eurie's keen empathy, because she cocked her head quizzically as if detecting something different.
"Well, I'll see you folks around then," Kardac nodded. "Be prepared for what's to come." He slinked out of the pub as well.
The five of them remaining sat silently at the bar for a few minutes, while the bartender shot expectant glances at them occasionally.
"Five days, eh?" Zimba sighed. "Kinda feels surreal, don't it?"
"Yeah," Eurie said quietly.
"Well there's no point in sitting around here all afternoon," Argos said coarsely. "Let's go."
No sooner had Reinbach and the other stepped outside of the Shellfish Pub when they were accosted by two armored young men he hadn't seen in a long time. He froze upon seeing their faces.
"It's been a long time, Reinbach," the heavier armored of the two said. The crusader had long, wavy black hair pulled back in a ponytail, and an unusually stern visage for his age.
"H-hey," the other said, a knight with brown hair parted in the center. He looked uncomfortable.
"Weiss! Ozworth… How did you find me here?"
Juniper Weiss, the crusader, shook his head. "Two dancers told us that there was a guy named Kristoph Reinbach in the Shellfish Pub. It looks like we arrived just as you were about to leave."
Neptunia studied their faces carefully, taking note of Ozworth's armor.
"Hey, Kristoph," he said. "Who are these two?"
"They were a part of Captain Graves' squadron with me three weeks ago, on a mission to Morroc," the knight answered. "But I'm assuming they're now under the command of the Royal Justices."
"So that means they're with Volkov?" the sage said darkly.
Ozworth's eyes narrowed.
"That's right," he said. "But the fact that we're under Volkov's command doesn't change the fact that criminals need to brought in."
"So why are you here, then?" Argos asked, both hands disappearing under his cloak. Reinbach had a strong suspicion he knew where they were placed. "Don't tell me you came here to talk about the old days."
"Hold!" Weiss said, looking at the assassin. "We didn't come here to fight. We've come here to warn you. At nightfall this evening, the Prontera knights and crusaders will storm Comodo, looking to capture fugitives who assisted in the escape of Daphne Trenton, suspected of treason."
Tonight!? Reinbach thought wildly. Didn't Kardac say we still had five days!?
"Why are you telling us this?" Argos' eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You completely threw away your surprise advantage. Are you that certain of your victory?"
"I don't expect one of your kind to understand, assassin," Ozworth spat. "That's not how the Prontera Knights do things."
"Neither is it for the Prontera Crusaders," continued Weiss. "No useless tricks or cowardly tactics. No pulling punches – We'll charge in straightforward and true."
"It's not too late, Kristoph," Ozworth said. "Come back to Prontera now with Daphne Trenton, and your punishment will be light."
"You… you don't even know who she is, do you?" Reinbach asked through clenched teeth.
"She's a suspect for treason," Weiss stated. "That's all we need to know."
"I can't believe you guys!" Reinbach nearly shouted. "Following Volkov's command! Blindly following orders! This whole situation – doesn't it strike you the least bit strange!?"
Weiss scowled dangerously.
"You can't believe us?!" he glowered. "That's our line! Disobeying the Pope's orders! Helping fugitives escape! Are you so coddled in the head that you can't tell right from wrong!?"
"You don't understand anything!" growled Reinbach.
"The will of Prontera is absolute!" Weiss snapped, adamantly slamming the base of his shield into the ground.
They glared at each other silently, neither side refusing to budge an inch. The background noise of the bar patrons and the rhythmic waves seemed to fade away and the only thing that mattered was their clashing intentions.
"We'll see each other again at nightfall," Weiss growled lividly, pointing an armored finger at them. "Don't even think about running away." He and Ozworth turned and walked away.
"A little tense there, yeah?" Zimba said finally. "If those were yer friends before ya left Morroc, I'd hate to see who yer enemies were."
"You've already seen him," said Neptunia abruptly. "In fact, you know him well, don't you? And now he's gone and even abandoned you and the other rogues to lead a squadron of knights!"
"What're you tryin' to say!?" the rogue snarled. "You makin' fun of the boss, Tuna-boy!?"
"Hey!" Eurie pleaded. "Let's not fight, okay?"
"Eurie's right," said Reinbach. "There's no point in fighting amongst ourselves right now."
The two of them reluctantly desisted.
"So what will happen now? Are we going to leave Comodo?" Eurie asked quietly.
"No," Argos said, clenching his fists.
"What!?" she cried. "Why not?"
"We can't! We can't leave Comodo until Captain Graves comes back with the others! And what's worse is that he thinks Comodo won't be stormed until five days from now!"
Those words felt like a fist tightening around Reinbach's heart. They had no choice but to remain in Comodo for the duration of the siege to come.
"Shit!" he swore. "You're right!"
"So what do we do?" Zimba asked.
"There's only one thing to do," Reinbach said. "One of us will have to hurry and catch up to Captain Graves. Hopefully, we can relay the message about the unexpected change in plans. Preferably someone who can move about unnoticed because most likely, the Royal Justices are waiting for nightfall in the outskirts of Comodo. In the meantime, we need to start warning people to prepare for what's to come."
"I can do it," Argos said. "Since I can cloak, it wouldn't be a problem for me."
"Right, then," Reinbach nodded. "The rest of you, try to warn Comodo's authority figures and to the best you can to help prepare for the siege. Err… Eurie, you don't have to, because of your eyesight. Argos, before you leave, I'd like a word."
Neptunia and Zimba nodded and left. Argos waited until their diminishing figures were out of earshot before speaking.
"What did you want?"
"Out of the five of us here, I trust the two of you the most," Reinbach said. "Have you suspected it yet?"
"Yeah." Argos' eyes narrowed. "We were supposed to have five days to prepare, but Prontera already knew where to look for us. We have a rat."
"Oh!" gasped Eurie.
"Someone from within our group leaked information to Prontera," growled Reinbach. "There's no other way they could have found out so quickly. We were flawless in covering our tracks."
"More importantly, we'll have to do something about this siege at nightfall," Argos said. "We have about four hours at the most."
"Four hours, eh?" Reinbach repeated, looking at his bandaged right wrist. He clenched his fist tightly, then ripped off the bandages. "Let's see how well we do."