Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 215

Chapter 215: Raid Chapter 215: Raid Garvin took a steadying breath as he stood before the door, feeling a slight chill run down his spine.It was sun-rise, later than he had hoped for the imperial forcess to take action , but he believed at least that they still did not know he was alive, as if they did perhapse they could have decided to change place.

What he was doing wasn’t about redemption-he couldn’t care less about that.

This was about survival.

If he succeeded here, he’d no longer have to worry about assassins lurking in every shadow, waiting to take him out on the orders of his former employers, there was still the question if the regent would mantain his words, but honestly it was his only road , so there was no use in musing over how safe it was.

 Keval had been meticulous in his planning: one hundred and twenty-five of the soldiers had locked down the entire perimeter, blocking every possible route of escape.

The remaining seventy-five stood at Garvin’s back, silent and ready, their focus fixed on him and the door before them.

He raised his fist and gave a sharp knock, his heart pounding as he waited.

A moment later, a visor slid open with a faint scrape, and a pair of narrowed, suspicious eyes peered out at him.

“Garvin?” The guard’s voice was confused, his eyes blinking rapidly as he recognized the man outside.

Please don’t let them know that I had an assassin sent after me, Garvin prayed to whatever god would listen that the lower crooks knew nothing of how their employer would deal with them.  Garvin nodded, keeping his expression carefully neutral.

He heard something muttered behind the door, followed by the clank of bolts being drawn back.

The door creaked open just enough for him to step inside, and Garvin forced himself to stay calm.

 Without hesitation, he drew his dagger as he slipped in side , he drove it into the guard’s neck, silencing him instantly.

The guard staggered, his hand flying up to the wound, but Garvin’s blade had already done its work.

The man crumpled to the ground as Garvin yanked the door wide open.

A moment later, seventy-five soldiers stormed in, their footsteps thundering as they poured into the narrow corridors of the building.

Garvin stepped aside, watching as they swept past him, weapons drawn and eyes set on their mission.

Garvin retrieved his dagger, wiping it quickly on the dead guard’s cloak before following close behind the wave of soldiers flooding the building.

His eyes scanned the chaos, and there-just ahead-was a face he recognized: the knight he’d knocked out cold during the kidnapping.

Garvin instinctively shrank back, blending into the shadows, hoping to go unnoticed and wondering if he kept a grudge over it .

Fights erupted throughout the dim corridors, the air filled with the clash of metal and the shouts of men.

The defenders were a ragtag band of hired crooks-burly, rough around the edges, but lacking any real skill that the royal guards instead owned .

Most of them didn’t even seem to know who had hired them or what this fight was for.

The guards pressed forward, their numbers and superior weapons giving them the upper hand.

One guard drove his sword into the chest of an opponent, while another forced two crooks to retreat with quick, precise strikes.

The hired thugs fell back, struggling against the trained soldiers as Garvin moved carefully through the mayhem, avoiding drawing attention to himself but staying close enough to watch the chaos he’d helped unleash.

He was not a fighter and he certainly did not like risking his life , hence he had no desire and no pretense to help in any fight as he simply continued to run down the dim corridor, his memory racing as fast as his feet.

Behind him, a dozen men followed, their weapons ready and their footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

The sounds of clashing steel and shouts of battle grew more distant as they pushed deeper into the building, leaving the rest of the guards fighting off the remaining crooks in the entry hall.

Suddenly, Garvin recognized the hallway, the familiar cracked walls and the worn floor.

His heart pounded as he stopped dead in front of a thick, weathered door.

He turned to the men following him, his voice urgent and breathless.

“This is the one!” he shouted, nodding toward the door.

One of the guards hoisted a small battering ram, steadying it before slamming it with force against the wooden door.

With a splintering crash, the door gave way, swinging open as the guards flooded into the room, weapons drawn and eyes scanning for the boy they’d come to rescue.

Inside, they froze.

Standing near the center of the dim room was a small boy-none other than the young emperor-held tightly in front of a familiar, grim-faced man: Ravinius.

In his hand, he clutched a heavy axe, its sharp edge hovering dangerously close to the boy’s neck.

Behind Ravinius, another figure loomed-a stranger to Garvin, yet clearly simply a hired man.  The guards shifted uncomfortably, their weapons poised, yet uncertain as Ravinius’s gaze swept over them, defiant and unyielding.

One of them took a step forward, shouting, “Drop the axe!

Let the emperor go!” But Ravinius’s grip only tightened, his eyes narrowing with a chilling intensity, daring anyone to come closer.

The guards hesitated, their hands gripping their swords with white-knuckled intensity, as they waited for a chance to act without endangering the young emperor’s life.

The room was cramped, barely enough space for the handful of guards who had managed to force their way inside.

They held their positions, unable to circle Ravinius fully, keeping their distance as his axe hovered menacingly near the emperor’s neck.  Then Ravinius’s gaze drifted over the guards, his eyes coldly skipping over each of them , until they landed on Garvin.

A strange smile spread across his face, and he let out a low, mocking laugh.

The sound sent a chill through Garvin-it was unnerving.

The Ravinius he knew was always silent, deliberate, never one to waste words, let alone laugh.

“Now I understand what was wrong,” Ravinius said, his voice darkly amused.

“The answer has been here all along.” Garvin, his heart racing, took a cautious step forward, narrowing his eyes.

“I had hoped to meet each other on a different occasion,” he said, attempting to keep his tone steady.

Ravinius chuckled, his grip firm on the axe.

“Ah, Garvin,” he said, his voice low but carrying easily through the small room.

“How pleased I am to see you, you know out of everyone I had hired you were the one I wanted to hire most.” He swung the axe slowly, almost casually, its blade catching the faint light as he continued.

“While that supposed ‘guard’ of the boy carved his way through my men, it was you who managed to knock him out cold.” Garvin took a step forward, his face flat as he met Ravinius’s eyes.

“Never heard you talk so much ” he replied dryly Ravinius’s smile faltered for just a moment ”I see the assassin failed…” “Should’ve hired a better one,” Garvin muttered, his gaze hard.

At that, Ravinius gave a small, wry chuckle, the old smirk returning to his face.

“Perhaps,” he conceded, “Still, Garvin, you’re a rare breed.

I was truly pained when I saw you leave.

But rest assured,” he said, his tone half-teasing, “I don’t think any less of you for it, even now.” Garvin met his gaze, managing a slight shrug, his voice steely.

“Good to know,” he replied, unflinching.

The two looked at each other saying nothing, the guards too kept their mouths closed as they instead just kept looking at the situation.  The man behind Ravinius, who stood silent during everything, suddenly moved forward raising his sword high, his face twisted with a wild, panicked resolve.

After hearing everything, apparently, the man realized something: first of all they were surrounded, second, there was no secret passage or window to jump from and attempt to reach safety , as a consenquence he concluded that if he wanted to survive, he’d have to betray Ravinius and lead the emperor to safety himself.

It was a long shot , yet he probably realized it was the only one he could take.  Yet Ravinius was faster.

He swung his axe with brutal precision, its blade slamming into the man’s neck, cutting off the scream as blood splattered across the room.

In that split second, Garvin seized his chance.

He lunged forward, grabbing the emperor’s trembling hand and yanking him towards safety.

Realizing what happened , Ravinius pulled out the axe from the man’s neck and threw it hard toward the boy , realizing that there was only one way this day would end.  Pulling the emperor behind him, Garvin braced himself, shielding Mesha with his body as Ravinius’ axe moved in the air.

The axe cleaved into Garvin’s shoulder.

He let out a sharp scream as he crumpled down onto the floor, feeling his shoulder burning and heavier from the axe embedded in it.  Immediately after seeing the guard moving forward, Ravinius fumbled into his cloak and pulled out a small vial.

He uncorked it and without hesitation, tipped it back and downed the contents, his eyes flashing with a disturbing intensity as the liquid disappeared into his mouth.

As soon as the emperor was secured, several guards swiftly moved forward, gathering Mesha protectively under their watch.

Garvin’s scream of agony echoed through the room, the wound on his shoulder searing with each heartbeat, but the guards paid no heed as they threw themselves at Ravinius, who swung wildly at them.

“Filthy pigs!” Ravinius spat, his gaze flashing with contempt as the guards wrestled him to the ground.

He wore a sly, knowing smile, fully aware that whatever punishment lay ahead, he would face no true suffering. Two guards carefully supported Garvin under each arm, helping him to his feet.

His vision swam, but he fought to stay steady as they guided him outside.

Mesha, looking back over his shoulder, watched them with a concerned gaze.

“Will he…will that man be all right?” Mesha asked, his young voice filled with worry.

One of the guards nodded respectfully, his tone serious.

“We’ll take him to a healer, Your Majesty.

He’ll be well cared for.” Mesha gave a determined nod, his eyes never leaving Garvin.

“Good.

That man saved my life,” he said, his voice firm.

“Do whatever is necessary to heal him.” The guard bowed deeply, acknowledging the order.

Garvin, still clinging to consciousness, managed to keep his eyes opened as he stared at the kid that he had first helped kidnap, and then helped save him in return, causing him to wonder how fluid life can be and how easy it could change one day from the other .