Dragon's Tale 59 (Patreon)

I walked behind Pico, two bodyguards on my flanks to prevent an ambush, getting tenser with each passing step. It seemed that they were also very much aware of the risks they were facing. I would have been worried as well…

… if it wasn’t for my hidden magical skills. 

I was more than confident to take down any ambush they might arrange near Rome, most likely without revealing my magic overtly in the process. Just because I had received an immense power up during my adventures didn’t mean that I had forgotten my time in the Halls of Saturn, often flipping the situation with a hidden curse, or a concealed rune. 

As we walked, I drew several runes on the hilt of the sword, enhancing its sharpness several times temporarily without giving any outward sign. That rune would also ruin the sword, but that was hardly a concern. I expected the journey to pass silently, before one of the guards suddenly spoke. 

“Why are we suddenly changing our path? Weren’t we supposed to take the market road?” 

“Change of plans,” Pico simply said as he looked at the crowded road that stretched in front of us that was moving suspiciously slowly. He took a sudden turn and moved toward the small forest on the side of the road. 

“Just because of some congestion?” asked the guard dismissively. “It’s probably one of the grain carts breaking down, it wouldn’t slow us down.” 

“Not if they are waiting there to ambush us,” Pico said without even bothering to turn, but the guard slowed down. 

“Really, do you think they’ll ambush us in the middle of a public road,” said the guard, whose attitude clearly marked him as a new hire.

“Yes, they would,” said the other guard without even waiting for a second. 

“And they are so lucky that a cart broke down at the perfect time?” he added, proving that not only he was new, he wasn’t particularly sharp. The morning crisis must have been even worse than Pico’s words suggested if they sent such a horrible guard to the critical task of protecting their star performer. 

“Not if they are the ones that broke it in the first place,” the other guard answered with a sigh. Pico didn’t even bother to answer. 

The guard decided to further prove his stupidity. “Isn’t going through the forest more dangerous, then?” he asked, digging in further. 

This time, it was Pico that answered. “Not if they don’t know we’re going through there, you moron,” he growled in anger, the flashing anger on his face turned it into an intimidating statement. “Now, move or I’ll fire you. Waiting only makes it easier for them to catch our track.” 

Under the trainer’s sharp glare, the guard lacked the willpower to directly resist, and started walking. Already tense walk started to suffer under the tension. 

“A beautiful morning,” I said to Pico as I took a step forward, starting to walk next to him. 

“It’ll be, if we can manage to keep all of your limbs attached to your body,” Pico answered. 

“Limbs? I would have assumed they would go for the head?” 

“Not if they can help it,” Pico answered, though his attention was still firmly on our surroundings. He was too experienced for small talk negatively affecting his observation. The young guard, however, clearly didn’t appreciate the difference in attitude, especially since I was a slave and he was a free man, which technically suggested that he was supposed to be superior. 

Of course, while I was technically a slave at the moment — as long as it was convenient for me — the value I represented was much more than a low-rank guard could imagine, creating the difference in attitude. 

Well, life wasn’t fair for anyone. He just needed to suck it up. I ignored his fuming attitude, and instead squinted up to the trees, their beautiful leaves filtering the sunlight that desperately tried to penetrate through the thick canopy. 

For a moment, I let myself believe that Pico’s immediate response had saved us from suffering through an ambush. 

Then, my danger senses started tingling. 

I wasn’t the only one, as I looked at Pico, noticing his tenseness. “Too silent,” he whispered, just audible enough to be heard by me, not wanting to alert the guards after the earlier discussion, clearly wanting to avoid another argument. 

He was right. Suddenly, the forest lost its sound, be it birds or insects. And considering we could easily hear them despite our presence, it implied nothing good about the ambush. Our earlier trick was clearly useless. 

Without saying anything, Pico changed direction, moving deeper into the forest. It was a mistake, I felt, because while it gave us a chance to avoid the ambush, it also pulled us farther and farther away from people. And while being in public didn’t mean we were safe, it still significantly limited their approach. 

Combined with the speed they found our trace, the earlier commotion on the road earned a new meaning. It was clearly designed in such a way deliberately, making us avoid the road, using the old trainer’s caution to their benefit. After all, it wasn’t surprising them after arranging such a complicated ambush. 

I was impressed with all the effort they were putting into the ambush trying to take me out. 

A minute later, Pico changed direction again, this time without a reason. The young guard spoke. “Where are we going-” he started, only to receive a slap on the back of his head from the older guard, who was much more aware of the risks. 

“We’re trying to avoid the ambush, of course, moron. Shut up and follow,” he said. 

That, combined with another angry glare from Pico, seemed to silence his annoying voice, at least for the moment. 

However, his silence was barely a bump on the difficult road. Soon, Pico 

three times, showing he was amazing in terms of instincts and tactics, but, unfortunately for him, he was playing an unfair game. Five minutes into our escape, Pico changed direction two more times, carefully covering our tracks in the process. He even pulled a small bottle of oil, and spilled it on the floor, creating a disgusting smell, to prevent our ambushers from using dogs to pick up our trail. 

It was a smart, cautious strategy. Too bad that it was destined to fail, because I could feel some kind of tracking magic settling over us, making Pico’s attempts useless. It was simply an unfair battle. 

Another ten minutes, and the group didn’t need to rely on Pico’s mysterious sixth sense anymore. We didn’t need it, because our attackers were close enough to be heard. “It doesn’t seem that we’ll be able to escape,” I said even as I drew my sword, mostly to make a point. “Why don’t we pick a defensible spot so that we could defend ourselves properly. I’m sure they can’t just siege us for hours.” 

“Good idea,” Pico said as he looked around, pointing at a small, rocky entrance of a cave. He pointed and I nodded. The dark cave gave me so many opportunities to cast a spell. 

It wasn’t empty, of course. I could feel the presence of a wild bear inside, ready to kill any intruder, but a subtle spell was enough to make its sleep much heavier. I didn’t kill it, because its presence might come useful in creating some chaos. 

I walked in immediately after Pico, but before we could enter the cave, a huge mass burst into the forest. It was a large lion with a man riding on it. Normally, it would have been impossible to ride anything in such a thick forest canopy without breaking their leg — something Pico was clearly betting on, but that didn’t apply to a huge lion. 

The creature had the appearance of a normal lion, though almost four times tall, rivaling a young elephant. It was an intimidating sight even without the magic radiating from its beautiful golden fur, bright enough to reveal its supernatural origins.  

“A Nemean lion,” Pico gasped in shock while the guards froze in shock. His shock was understandable, as the presence of Nemean lion confirmed that Bestiaries school joined Gallic school in their determination to snuff out Dacian school completely. It was something I had been suspecting since I heard what happened in the stables, but a squad of magical animals was quite a bit more than I had been expecting. 

Pico’s gaze moved up, toward the gallant man riding the lion. “Sir Antony,” he gasped. “Is there anything I can do to help you?” he said.

However, before he could even answer, the young guard burst in. “Hell no, I’m not defending you assholes against a monster,” he said before he took a step forward. “Hey, we’re not paid enough to defend those, can we just leave,” he said as he unlatched his sword belt. The man on top of the lion said nothing, just gesturing him to move. The young guard looked at his partner, silently gesturing. 

The old guard looked at Pico, his regret clear. “I’m sorry,” he simply said as he let his sword fall on the ground as well. 

“Thank you for your mercy, sir,” the young guard said and started to walk. Pico was frozen with shock, not about the betrayal — which was inevitable under the circumstances — but the quickness of it. 

I wasn’t entirely surprised, but nor did I act on to prevent it despite being aware of one important detail that made their attempt a foolhardy move. They had made their choice.  

They tried to walk away, but just as they were about to pass next to the lion, the creature swiped its paw twice, far faster than a creature of that size had any right to move, and a second later, two guards fell on the floor, in pieces. 

An inglorious end for two idiotic traitors, unable to notice that the enemy had no intention of leaving any evidence of his involvement... 

Pity, I thought. If only they could have held onto their courage for a few seconds, we might have cooperated to take down the rider, reducing the threat we were facing significantly. But after their immediate defection, it was hardly possible to organize a coordinated assault even if I had bothered to convince them. 

I just needed to find a better strategy…