Chapter 12: 12 Screwed Up

Chapter 12: 12. Screwed

He had been a bit too intense just now, but that didn't matter. Adjusting his mood, Druchii continued, "My apologies, please excuse my outburst."

At this moment, the sound of the attendants laughing came from outside. Bastien stood up, lifted the tent flap, and took a look. Seeing that everything was fine, he nodded to Jonival and sat back down.

Jonival picked up a wild fruit from the plate and said nonchalantly, "Don't mind them. These attendants are just a bunch of peasants—crude and ill-mannered. I hope you don't mind."

Druchii ignored the remark and asked curiously, "I heard that Duchess Repanse de Lyonesse is a woman?"

Upon hearing this name, both knights became interested.

Jonival put down the wild fruit and said with great enthusiasm, "Yes, the Damsel of War. Repanse is a woman. Although she is younger than me, she is the pride of Lyonesse and the pride of Bretonnia."

"Three years ago, a massive Plague Fleet dropped anchor off the coast of Bretonnia. This fleet was so foul that the sea behind it turned completely black. Chaos began to ravage northern Bretonnia. We answered the call of King Louen the Brave and went to Couronne to join the royal army. In the Battle of the Crying, I saw with my own eyes Akrim, commander of the Skull-Taker warband, slay King Louen. We were soundly defeated in that battle; half of the knights were sacrificed. Chaos surrounded Couronne, and Bastien and I were lucky to break through the encirclement." Jonival’s tone grew heavy as he finished.

Bastien continued, "During the breakout, our unit was scattered. Later, we encountered the Damsel of War in a village. I will never forget that scene for as long as I live. She was wearing armor that clearly didn't fit her frame, riding a warhorse while carrying a greatsword, holding high the Fleur-de-lis battle standard. She called upon us to summon our courage and fight once more. When I saw a young woman stepping forward to battle the mighty forces of Chaos, I felt immense shame. I felt it was my duty to follow her, whether it ended in death or glory."

Jonival said proudly, "Once regrouped, we were unstoppable. We charged all the way under the command of the Damsel of War and Lord Henri le Massif the Great. The walls of Couronne were crumbling under the assault of the Chaos Lord Kalan the Withered. Just then, the Damsel of War, holding the Fleur-de-lis standard high, led us in a charge. Our ranks were orderly, heads held high, drums and horns urging us on, leaping horses and leveling lances. We formed a wedge formation, with the Damsel of War bravely charging at the very tip. We followed right behind her, piercing directly through the flank of the Chaos formation. When Kalan the Withered raised his greatsword above his hideous face, he was dazzled by the light radiating from the Damsel’s blade and was decapitated in a single stroke. Couronne was relieved. We chased the remnants of Chaos all the way to the sea, where the enemy was driven into the water and slaughtered in the name of justice. To show his gratitude, King Louen the Young not only granted the Damsel of War all the honors she possessed but also bestowed upon her the entire Duchy of Lyonesse."

Druchii mused, "The Siege of Orléans? This flavor is too strong; could it be any more stereotypical?" He then clapped politely and said, "That truly was a great battle. Your story is magnificent, my lords. In my view, you two are the perfect models of chivalry and honor. I believe that in the near future, your chivalric virtues will spread throughout Bretonnia, to the joy of all the people, and your heroic deeds will be immortalized in history!"

Flattered by this sycophancy, Jonival and Bastien nodded with smiles, their faces full of smug satisfaction.

Druchii raised his wine glass, closed his eyes, and drained the last of the wine. He listened to the sound of the tide, as if the rumbling of thunder were already at his ears, and thousands of troops were standing by his side. The Wind of Ghur blew fiercely, and the curse of Anraheir followed in its wake. A mist filled with spirits covered the outside of the tent, and invisible claws gripped the throats of the enemies.

"My lords, thank you very much. I must say sincerely, I have never had a more pleasant experience with humans. However, we must now resolve those unpleasant matters. Perhaps it is time to set off for the place where I am to be judged?"

The four of them stood up, and Bastien picked up the last wild fruit from the table.

Jonival said, "If we leave now, we can reach Avignon before midnight. My dear Baldeq Blackblade, you are a hospitable host. This meal was excellent, and the story was great too. I will do my best to ensure you receive the treatment a nobleman deserves while you are imprisoned."

Druchii performed an elegant noble bow and said, "It is my honor, my lords. I cannot think of a better way to pass the time. Perhaps I could entertain you with one last story? I believe you will find a great sense of humor in it." As he spoke, he pulled back the tent flap.

A chill invaded the two knights' armor, striking straight to their crowns. Bastien’s mouth hung open, and the wild fruit in his hand rolled onto the carpet.

Outside the tent, the attendants were restrained and kneeling in rows, their hands tied behind their backs and their mouths gagged. Druchii soldiers were mounted on the attendants, pulling their hair, with serrated daggers pressed against their throats. The Bretonnian warhorses were held by beastmasters, while the pack horses and inferior mounts were led by Druchii soldiers; the animals remained quiet and calm. Renn and Alissa, the siblings, stood outside the tent, their eyes filled with rage. Several Black Ark Corsairs and Darkshards held their repeaters aimed at the tent entrance; seeing Druchii pull back the flap, they immediately lowered their weapons. In the distance, the corpses of several sentry attendants lay on the ground, crossbow bolts protruding from their heads and throats.

Jonival and Bastien turned pale, filled with shock. Their previous high spirits had vanished, and both were stunned by the secrecy and coordination of the entire operation. As they reacted and reached for their swords, the Black Ark Corsairs who rushed into the tent immediately subdued them with their classic trio of maneuvers. Druchii leaned against the tent entrance and waved his hand.

The Great Horned Moon, Morrslieb! This ominous, terrifying moon was hanging in the night sky at this very moment. Its sickly green light shone upon the earth, and this was a sign of death!

The two men, pushed out of the tent, looked at the Druchii brigantine anchored on the sea in the distance and the several small boats shuttling back and forth. Cold Ones and Scourgerunner Chariots were being unloaded onto the beach one after another. The following Druchii soldiers did not wait for the boats to reach the shore; they jumped directly into the water and walked onto the beach to form ranks.

Druchii walked out of the tent and said in a cold tone, "The story is very short. Two promising young Bretonnian noble lords were deceived by the enemy's ruse and will spend the rest of their short lives in the mines of Hag Graef."