Valaré Valai

Bartnick’s attacks were lighting fast, his Aegis Field strong but crude. Giliad, on another hand, wielded no Aegis Field what allowed Bartnick to easily fend off Giliad’s attacks.

Lack of Aegis Field explained why Butcher and Giliad were such a hit and miss. As strong as the Royalbloods were, their durability was falling off eventually, exposing them to a dangerous level of damage. The Aegis Field was a technique native to the Royalbloods allowing them to shield their bodies with the protective field.

In the military, to advance into the Second Strip, a Royalblood officer was required to develop and sustain Aegis Field. Valaré had been trained from very early years to learn his own Aegis Field. While his field wasn’t as strong as Bartnick’s, his control was vastly superior, allowing Valaré to manipulate the strength and level of his Aegis Field.

He could tank stronger blows by concentrating his Aegis Field in one place. Or make his punches harder the same way.

While Giliad couldn’t get through Bartnick’s Aegis Field, his agility added a substantial distraction, which cost Bartnick more than he gave away.

“I have to admit,” Bartnick said. “You’re persistent.”

Giliad didn’t reply. Shaking off the dirt from the long-gone street. It had to be the main dirt road, now it was mostly reclaimed by the jungle. The bandits did a poor job of maintaining it beyond the several wider trails they’d used.

The fight between Giliad, Valaré, and Bartnick was slowly changing its appearance. It was mostly due to Giliad who plowed the ground with his face. Nonetheless, each time Bartnick focused on Giliad, he overextended, allowing Valaré to punish him hard.

For a sake of Giliad, Valaré needed to finish the fight soon. Another threat loomed over them. Zyan Quilla might be only the Second Strip, but if he decided to join Bartnick and had Butcher on their side, this fight would end very quickly. It felt good to know that the arrogance of Quilla was going to be his undoing.

“Why are you here, Valai?” Bartnick asked, blood, streaming from his brows and nose. He still fared better than Giliad. The Royalblood carried wounds he’d acquired before Valaré arrived. Surprisingly, he seemed unbothered by a wound that looked too much as if left by rows of sharp teeth. It had to him, he’d run into grots and his blood caused the monstrous mutation. “You don’t need to tell me. My Lord will have all the answers from you anyway. I’m trying to be nice…”

Giliad shot forward, hoping that Bartnick would be distracted by his monologue. Giliad’s fists would’ve never connected if Valaré didn’t decide to deviate from the current plan of punishing Bartnick’s overextensions. Joining Giliad meant risk. Three Royalbloods exchanging blows and kicks at the speed of bullets in an uncoordinated manner could easily turn against Giliad and Valaré.

Which it eventually did, when Giliad dodged the wrong way and collided with Valaré. Bartnick exploited it by kicking Valaré in the head. Disoriented Valaré didn’t manage to manipulate his Aegis Field and the kick easily went through his defenses.

Before Giliad could climb to his feet, Bartnick’s rained fists at him without mercy. Halfway through, Giliad stopped trying to avoid the fists and focused on blocking the blows. When Bartnick ended the onslaught, Giliad struggled to keep his head off the ground.

“You had a good chance at taking me down, but you’d have to sacrifice this idiot. Now it’s time to break bones.”

A shot rang in the distance and Zyan Quilla bellowed in rage. Without thinking twice, Bartnick set off in that direction.

Emm

Emm quickly withdrew when the fight between Royalbloods started. Their inhuman speed and toughness made the area around them dangerous to commoners. If Emm got in their way, they wouldn’t even know about it. Their fists smashed trees. Nothing in Soto had the durability to protect Emm, except for distance. He meandered the overgrown ruins, getting close to the Imperial’s temporary camp. They were bad at keeping the perimeter tight. They lacked discipline and were easily distracted by the sounds of the jungle. Whenever some animal roared they glanced nervously in that direction. Emm knew there was no immediate threat as daytime predators weren’t as dangerous as the nighttime ones. But these Imperials didn’t have his knowledge.

Emm played with them a bit, imitating subtle noises that left some of the men pale. Emm moved through the perimeter, using the overgrown patches of terrain. The Imperials weren’t very smart in choosing the spot for their camp. It had so many holes. The camp was also too large, with not enough soldiers to keep it secure. The Red Coat in command was a fool. Emm thanked him for that.

He passed the smaller tents and found a nice spot near the largest one in the middle of the camp. Making sure to mask his appearance, Emm started listening. At first, there was nothing to listen to.

Then one of the soldiers entered the tent.

“Lord Quilla,” he said.

“What it is, Verran?” Lord Quilla asked, annoyed.

“I bring the message, my Lord.”

“From who? Is Bartnick finished with Valai and Butcher?”

“I do not know that, and the message, my Lord, is from the House of Kerandella.”

“What?” Lord Quilla snapped. “What did you say?”

“The message goes as follows…”

“On your knees!”

“…you are trespassing, Zyan Quilla and you shall die.”

“Wha—”

A shot from this close rocked Emm to the core. A mighty roar came from the Royalblood, then only gurgling sounds and wheezing remained. Emm heard the soldiers converging on the tent. If too many gather around, they might find him.

“It’s a special bullet with a moonflower compound.”

“You…will…die…”

“Yes, Lord Quilla.”

Emm heard a body hit the floor, then another one. He moved to leave, but all of sudden the tent was surrounded. He heard him long before he appeared out of the bush. Bartnick rushed inside the tent. One of the soldiers didn’t get away from his path in time and was thrown away.

“What’s that?” he shouted.

“A traitor killed Lord Quilla,” someone answered inside the tent. “Then took a poison.”

“Why?” Bartnick asked, deflated.

“We don’t know, Mr. Bartnick. When I got here Verran was already dead.”

“Bring Rindol here, maybe he’ll make sense of this.”

In the commotion which ensued, Emm used the window of opportunity and escaped the camp.

*

Finding Valaré was easy. Neither he nor Giliad moved away from the main thoroughfare. Valaré stood above unconscious Butcher while Giliad sat with his back against a tree. He looked badly injured.

“Valaré,” Emm said from a safe distance. He didn’t want to startle them. After the fight, they might react instinctively, which could cost Emm his life.

Valaré raised his head and glanced at Emm. Giliad didn’t react at all.

“Did you hear the shot?”

Emm nodded.

“I know what happened.”

He told Valaré everything that had occurred in the Imperial camp. When he finished, even Giliad was watching him. Valaré glanced at the other Royalblood then at Butcher. His hat was badly mangled and his coat missed a full sleeve. Somehow, it looked better on him now than undamaged.

“This makes our life much easier.”

Without going into explanation, Valaré called out Bartnick. A few minutes later, the Royalblood arrived with a full squad of soldiers. Some had rifles aimed at Giliad and Valaré. Emm made sure to stay hidden, although, Valaré wanted him close.

Bartnick didn’t clean his face, his blood crusted in several places, his clothes were in a worse shape than Valaré’s.

“You should’ve run away when you had a chance, Valai.”

“About that,” Valaré said. “I know what happened.”

Bartnick’s façade started crumbling under rising pressure of rage. Emm wondered if they were trying to provoke Bartnick for some reason. With so many rifles on the Imperial’s side, the odds of defeating the Imperial Royalblood were low.

“If you had anything to do with…”

Valaré raised his hand.

“I didn’t,” he added quickly.

“Then how do you know?”

“My friend Emm went to scout on you and overheard the conversation in the tent. He-we knows what happened.”

Bartnick made a step forward, all the rifles focused on Valaré.

“Tell me right now!” Bartnick snapped.

Valaré looked him into the eyes, keeping his relaxed attitude felt infuriating to others. Emm had learned tricks to keep himself from panicking in difficult situations, like breathing or emptying his mind. It worked only because in the jungle Emm understood the danger, he knew how to avoid predators and natural threats. The Royalbloods were a different kind of danger. Something he didn’t know how to deal with them and so he felt trapped and anxious.

“We’ll make a deal, Bartnick. You’ll get the tracking liquid off me. I’ll hand you the information and add Butcher. I think he’ll have a thing or two to say on the matter.”

“I want the innkeeper.”

“Forget the innkeeper,” Giliad said from underneath the tree.

“Believe me, Bartnick,” Valaré quickly said. “When you hear who killed your Lord, the innkeeper, will be the least of your concerns.”

“Deal,” Bartnick answered after a moment.

“Order your people to lower the guns. We can’t be sure that the killer worked alone.”

Emm had never felt so terrified in his life. He knew what Valaré expected from him. Bartnick did as Valaré asked. The Imperial soldiers put the rifles away without a complaint. They were commoners like Emm.

“Emm, please come out,” Valaré called out. “Giliad, will you?”

Emm didn’t know what Valaré was asking the tattooed, shirtless Royalblood, but Giliad climbed to his feet joined Emm, positioning the scout slightly behind. With terror, Emm realized that Valaré feared an attempt on Emm’s life.

“Do you expect me to believe in a word of a lowly commoner?” Bartnick growled.

“Bring your alchemist if you must. He can confirm Emm’s words.”

Rindol appeared without being called out, he already had a glass with a blue liquid ready. Emm made a step back, what if the liquid was a poison? The same thoughts came through Valaré’s head as he waved Rindol away.

“You don’t think I’ll take that kind of risk, Bartnick? We can agree that people behind this aren’t going to take chances.”

“You said, he’d told you. What’s the problem then? Even if Rindol’s a traitor, I’ll still have your word.”

“My word’s not worth a thing without Emm though,” Valaré admitted. “I wasn’t there.”

“Boss, we should be careful with anything he says,” Rindol said to Bartnick. “He’s a bandit.”

Bartnick seemed tired with all the words being thrown around.

“Clean the liquid tracker,” Bartnick said eventually.

Rindol was taken aback by the order and looked a bit resistant at first, but the order came from a Royalblood. He couldn’t refuse it without suffering dire consequences. Rindol returned with red liquid this time, he handed it to Valaré who poured the liquid on the back of his neck without checking it. The Royalbloods were immune to most poisons.

When he emptied the content of the glass, Valaré tucked it inside his coat. He asked Emm to tell the Imperials what had happened in the tent. Emm stood slightly behind the wide frame of Giliad who was ready to intercept any attack.

Emm told them everything that’d transpired in the tent. Soldiers glared at him with a mixture of hate and worry. He ignored them as he withdrew behind Giliad’s back.

“House of Kerandella?” Bartnick snorted. “Do you have me for an idiot, Valai?”

“We can confirm it by a neutral alchemist. I don’t trust your men.”

“It doesn’t matter, Valai. Even if your boy tells the truth, the House of Quilla won’t confront the ruling House of the Red Cities…”

Valaré kicked Butcher awake. Emm’s ex-boss looked dazed, not understanding what was going on. Butcher jerked as if he attempted to flee, which brought Valaré’s foot on his neck.

“Does Kerandella tell you anything, Butcher?”

Butcher paled, then went limp. Valaré kept his foot on his neck.

“You’re messing with wrong people,” Butcher said.

“I agree,” Bartnick added. “If they’re behind this, we can’t do anything.”

Valaré took his foot off Butcher.

“Do whatever you want with this information. Make sure to squeeze extra juice from Butcher. I guess he has more to tell about Kerandellas than you’d believe.”

Before Butcher had a chance to react, Bartnick was above him. Emm was traumatized by the Royalblood’s speed. With ease, Bartnick poured the tracking liquid on Butcher’s neck then turned to Valaré. Emm was already moving away from the scene.

“I made this deal with you, Valai. But this is only between you and me. My master will likely want you and the innkeeper. Enjoy all the freedom you can before the House of Quilla come down on you.”