Chapter 106 - Triple Trap (Patreon)

<---Chapter 105 - Tenar | Table of Contents | Chapter 107 - Slaughter --->

"Right about now, Nest should be mobilizing to defend Section 5A," Kyle explained to Lisa while the rest of the members continued to reorganize.

"That's not good, isn't it? It'll make it harder for us to get into contact with Zayin." Lisa frowned, clearly mulling over something Kyle couldn't give two shits about.

"Here's what is going to happen: The information given to Nest most likely should have leaked to Minister Dekar. I am confident he has his own informants embedded with Nest. Any large-scale action by them would go undetected. All we have to do is wait until he strikes. If he doesn't move, then it's no loss to us as well."

"No loss to us? We lost a hideout!" Lisa bristled with fury. "We only have one backup hideout left, and I would very much prefer if I was kept in the loop regarding such plans, especially my members." She motioned to the Ghost who had to escape Asha Street, the Ghost nodding furiously in agreement. From their point of view, Kyle was like an errant leader who had just overtaken their entire operation.

Kyle sighed. "And here I thought I was dealing with adults."

"What...?" Lisa glared at Kyle angrily, but Kyle didn't back down at all. Instead, he overpowered Lisa through his sheer dominating aura that seemed to suddenly seep from every single pore on his skin, exuding confidence and strength.

"If the mission was revealed to her, it would have tipped off Masir and any nearby Nest personnel who might be watching. It needed to be as authentic of a slip-up as possible, and she did it perfectly. I find it hard to believe that you are angry at getting closer to our goal." Kyle pointed out. "Consider this - in just two hours since I've arrived, we have gotten more information than in the week you have been posted here, and we have a concrete plan to nab both Minister Dekar and Zayin. Now, please, inform me - what would be your alternative?"

Lisa wanted to retort but decided to hold back. The truth was she didn't have any other options other than to simply stake out and observe rumor spots, doing the regular leg work. She hated to admit it, but Kyle did indeed accelerate their plans significantly, her having expected to do about a month's worth of observation and embedding into the capital of Versia before obtaining any results.

"If you are truly committed to the goal of a free Versia, then my methods are by far the best and quickest. Now, if we're done grumbling about the segregation of information, which is common in any hierarchical organization, let's move on, shall we?"

"You think you're so good, but there's a massive flaw in your plan." The Ghost, who had been tricked into escorting Masir, rebutted Kyle, clearly indignant about being used as bait in some sense.

Kyle smiled, sitting back in a wooden chair and leaning back. "Please, do enlighten me."

"Your plan hinges on the fact that Minister Dekar comes to 'save' this Zayin. Now that we are in this new hideout, how do we know what's happening within the catacombs?"

"There are plenty of ways to enter the catacombs when one's in Tenar." Kyle waved his hands dismissively. "Your team has already marked out multiple entry points nearby within fifteen minutes. There should be no issue entering it."

The Ghost scoffed. "Still, the moment Minister Dekar attempts to save Zayin, it will take time for information to come back to us before we can respond at all, even if you place an informant there that will not be caught by Nest!"

Kyle grinned. "Oh, but I have that covered. You do not need to worry about that. All you have to do is do your job well, and everything will fall into place."

"Are you calling me a pawn!?" The Ghost started, but Lisa held her back, shaking her head.

"Look, we're all a little frazzled after losing our first hideout-"

"Because of him! We were doing perfectly fine, but he decided to go and reveal its location to Nest without even consulting us-"

Kyle rasped his fingers on the holster of his chair. "There seems to be a misunderstanding here." He slowly rose out of his chair, cracking his arms before standing squarely in front of the Ghost. "I am the last word on everything here - not Lisa, not Feldon, not Culo, not Sasha, not you. Me. Alone. You have no say in any overarching mission plan that I have in mind, and you will not for the foreseeable future."

"You think you can waltz in here and just-" The Ghost couldn't complete her sentence, her face being grabbed by Kyle's hand firmly and forced down in a powerful shove, her head slamming into the ground violently and nearly knocking her out. Lisa instantly drew out a handgun, aiming it at Kyle, but Kyle did not care, instead lifting the squirming Ghost up to eye level, her feet dangling while she struggled and clasped Kyle's outstretched arm, trying to remove his hand to no avail.

Kyle dragged the Ghost's head near to his face, whispering into her ear. "If I sense any dissatisfaction or refusal to carry out orders, you will no longer be treated as an asset, but as a liability. And you do not want to see what treatment the Ghosts of Versia has prescribed for such a liability. Are we clear? And if you're done playing around in your fantasy of morals and unity, you can drop the handgun, Lisa."

The struggling Ghost nodded vigorously, prompting Kyle to let go of her face that had almost been crushed in his grip, her body flopping onto the ground. Lisa, too, lowered her handgun, slightly frightened at the sheer strength that Kyle exuded. What would have happened if she fired at him? Her body shuddered slightly as she holstered it, helping up the Ghost from the ground. The rest of the members stared in shock as well, save for Feldon, who was fast asleep in a simple bunk bed and snoring away through the disagreement.

"Cross me again, and we will have problems. As long as you follow my orders, we will see a free Versia. Understood?" Kyle dusted off his shirt and arranged his hair, glaring at Lisa. "I expect a 'Yes, sir'."

"Yes, sir," Lisa mumbled reluctantly.

"Continue with your work." Kyle dismissed them, retreating back to the chair where he was sitting. It was unfortunate that he had to resort to violence to rein in the members, but it was clear that they harbored resentment against him for working behind their backs. He needed to quickly establish a clear line of authority, and any form of pandering would have just made him look weak and unsteady. With such a tight deadline, appeasing a few rebel members was at the very bottom of his list of priorities. However, I should keep an eye on the two of them; they will most likely betray me in the future.

He decided to check in on Sasha, who had been staking out the sweatshop at Section 5A for two hours now as well. "Any updates?"

[There's an increase in Nest guards, that's for sure. I'm counting about two dozen of them armed to the teeth, plus two mercenaries decked in knight armor.]

"Need a resupply?"

[No, I can handle it for another eight hours.]

"Right. I'll inform you of the new hideout location when you're done." Kyle ended the conversation. Two dozen Nest guards won't be easy for Minister Dekar to break through.

With that in mind, Kyle focused on what he should be doing - planning backup hideouts and escape plans. It was clear that they were the underdogs in this city and that in order to execute a successful guerrilla campaign, they needed to have as many bases as possible to shift between, never letting the enemy corner them. In the event that they were surrounded, Kyle also needed to figure out possible safehouses or even routes that would allow the rebels to escape Tenar if necessary.

He had no doubt that the moment he launched an attack against Harrison using the Ghosts of Versia, a shadow war would break out all over the city and the catacombs. Even if he did not initiate any attack in the next few months, he could not guarantee that Harrison would not suddenly decide to raid or purge the Ghosts out of their hiding spots.

As such, Kyle carefully inspected blueprints for the city one after the other while the rest of the Ghosts and Feldon took a much-needed rest. He worked tirelessly until night fell on Versia, the brightly lit streets filled with wonderous lights and arctech billboards that lit up like fireworks, citizens enjoying a well-deserved dinner after a hard day of work, or going on dates at romantic venues under a simple lantern's light.

It seems a bit hard to escape Tenar through a land route... Kyle reached a conclusion after working so long on the city blueprints. It was as if the Nest and military had cut off every possible entrance and exit into Tenar, but Kyle felt that such a statement could not be true. There must be a secret passage in the catacombs. Either Minister Dekar or Zayin would have known about it.

As if on cue, Sasha's voice was transmitted over the Designate Follower engraving right into his brain. [Sir, I'm seeing movement here. It looks to be Minister Dekar's men.]

"How many did he bring?"

[I can't see all of them, but it looks like there are just five of them. One of them matches the portrait of Minister Dekar.]

"Perfect." The plan was coming all together. Kyle got off his seat, moving over to the snoring Feldon and smacking him awake. "Get up. We got work to do."

The rushing tide of the catacombs flowed incessantly through the entirety of Tenar, the water carrying refuse and chemicals dumped by errant factories, cumulating in a swirling stream of murky sludge that deposited along the bends and turns of the canals. Despite the clear inhospitality of the toxic environment, a lone frog the size of a cat waited patiently; its transparent bulbous skin masked amid the glistening mud while it watched carefully, beady eyes seemingly locked straight ahead into the darkness.

Even as a few minutes passed, the frog didn't budge a single inch, acting completely stationary until a distinctive whizzing sound could be heard approaching fast. Within a split second, arcia energy swelled up in the frog's body, the veins beneath the translucent skin charging up an enchantment as it blasted out a small but fast arcia bolt. A bright flash accompanied a dull thud as a tiny flying salamander crashed into the water, a smoking hole in its guts. The bolt's sound could hardly be heard over the rushing stream.

Before the salamander could be washed away, the frog leaped out from its hiding position, moving as close to the edge of the water as possible and shooting out a long tongue that wrapped around the salamander, pulling it out. In an instant, the frog swallowed the salamander whole, letting out a satisfying burp.

Suddenly, the frog felt familiar tremors approaching like raindrops in synchronization, prompting it to dive deeper into the sludge, burrowing into a nice little hole as it digested its latest meal, the tremors passing right over and stopping. The frog had little time to react as a sharp spearhead stabbed right down into the sludge, impaling both it and the tiny salamander in its belly, bodily fluids gushing out as it was unceremoniously dragged out to face two humans carrying arctech lanterns.

"Hey, check it out. One stab, one kill. We'll be eating good tonight." The first human grinned as he opened a container on his back, stuffing the impaled frog in and pulling out the spearhead.

"Are you sure we should be doing this? Shouldn't we be guarding the sweatshop? If Yona or her men find out, we're skiving..." The other looked around with a shifty glance, clearly reluctant about eating the frog.

The first Nest guard sighed while keeping his hunting spearhead. "We're not skiving; we're being resourceful. You have no idea how delicious this little guy is. People would pay big money for it."

"Yea, but look, there's something in its belly. Don't think that guy is edible."

"Huh, guess you're right." The first Nest guard took a closer look at the container, seeing the half-alive tiny salamander trying to crawl free from the ruptured frog's belly, its movements sluggish. "It's a dog eat dog world, never tried it but always a first time for everything, right? Right?"

He glanced behind his shoulder, noticing that the second Nest guard was conspicuously missing, including his arctech lantern. Alarm bells began to ring in his head as he carefully paced his steps around, his other hand already on his handgun while he held the lantern forward, keeping close to the walls while moving forward.

The wall next to him suddenly shifted, the bricks readjusting to reveal a pair of hands that lunged forward, grabbing him by the neck and immediately twisting his head hard, far beyond what it could handle. His neck muscles torn and spine ruptured by the sudden force, he could only watch in pain as his body crumpled to the floor, the gap in the wall opening to reveal Minister Dekar decked out in armor and a Versian rifle. His face was masked with camouflaged paint.

"All clear. Let's move." Dekar motioned behind him, prompting a small group of armed men to follow him out, each of their faces disguised by paint as the five of them scurried along the canal's pathway, trekking over slippery algae-infested tiles dating back centuries. The satchels full of pellet canisters rattled on their belts with each step they took while checking every single corner for other Nest guards' patrol.

No words were exchanged, their faces all grim as they focused on the mission ahead, Section 5A's sweatshop. As soon as they came within range of the pier's lone arctech lantern, Dekar held up a clenched fist, ordering the squad to stop. "Two guards at the entrance near the pier. Potions, now."

Dekar and his men immediately pop vials of Strength and Stamina potions, a sense of newfound power coursing through their bodies the moment they finish it. With a single hand sign, Dekar's men moved forward without hesitation.

Their footsteps were immediately heard by the two Nest guards, who spun to see four armed men aiming rifles at them. Before either of them could pull out their guns, pellets already whizzed through the air with murderous precision, tearing holes through their cranial cavities, the last sound they made in their lives being the splashes in the water as they toppled over the edge of the pier.

"Hey, what's going on out there? You idiots still shooting fish in the water?" A gruff voice echoed from beyond the entrance of the sweatshop, Dekar's men quickly hugging as close as they could to the wall, shuffling silently nearer to the entrance. The moment the owner of the gruff voice stepped out towards the pier, Dekar grabbed him by the mouth, muffling him while using a knife in another hand to slit his throat, keeping the Nest guard's mouth tightly closed as the life ebbed away from his body, squirming intermittently as the lungs were choked with his own blood.

Dekar's men were experienced, quickly shifting the dead guard's body out of the way while taking up position, preparing to breach the entrance. Dekar held up three fingers, slowly counting down. The moment he clenched his fist, the first two men barged their way into the sweatshop, guns swiveling and immediately shooting the nearest three Nest guards in rapid succession, not giving them any time to react.

Yet there were far more than three Nest guards in the wider factory area, filled to the brim with wide-eyed slaves of all origins, even a few hobgoblins. All of them seemed to be working on sewing and stitching up military uniforms in a never-ending production line, thousands of uniforms stacked up high in crates waiting to be delivered to Ocra.

The moment the bodies hit the floor, the slaves around screamed, inciting a panicked rush to get away from the fighting while Nest guards on the other end were alerted. "We're under attack! Quick, report to Yona!"

Immediately a fierce firefight broke out through the factory floor, Dekar and his men taking cover behind sewing machines and crates of wool and leather, pellets zipping by in the air as a dozen Nest guards fanned out to defensive positions and began to suppress them with overwhelming firepower.

"Dekar, there are way more slaves and guards in here than expected! We should retreat!" One of Dekar's men shouted over the din of gunfire and slaves scrambling to get as far away as possible from the main entrance.

"Not until we get Zayin! He must be here." Dekar gritted his teeth, summoning his courage to dash out to a forward workbench, braving the withering fire that seemed to encompass the entire factory. Sliding beneath the workbench, Dekar let out a roar as he flipped the workbench over, protecting his body from the pellets that were now converging on him. With the pressure being relaxed on his men, they began to take potshots at the Nest guards, injuring and killing a few.

At the far end of the factory floor, a manager burst out of his office in anger. “Who the fuck is attacking us?” He roared at a nearby Nest guard who was cowering behind a pillar.

"Sir, I don't know, but they got armor and guns far better than we do!"

"Damnit! Hey, you two! Time to do your job!" The manager hollered into the office, from which two of Yona's mercenaries appeared from, their knight armour flaring up with arcia energy.

The Nest guards moved forward tactically, providing covering fire for each other as they shifted covers, trying to get a flanking angle on Dekar who was still behind the flipped workbench, the pellets impacting against its tough wooden surface.

"Dekar, two knights!" His men called out, pointing wildly in the general direction.

"Are the slaves clear?"

"I don't see any of them!"

"Got it! Get down!" Dekar rummaged through his pockets, tugging out a grenade. In one swift motion, he armed it and tossed it straight toward the two knights headfirst. A green point defense arcia bolt lanced out towards the grenade, but instead of knocking it away, the bolt exploded the grenade, releasing a hailstorm of shrapnel that dug right through the mercenaries' armor like a knife through hot butter, earning pained screams all around. Some of the shrapnel grazed against machinery, creating sparks that began to ignite a few crates of exposed arcite ore, a small fire starting up.

The resulting shockwave disorientated the Nest guards, buying time for Dekar's men to quickly storm the factory floor with impunity. Some of the Nest Guards tried to shoot back, but they could hardly aim properly with the loud ringing in their ears and the smoke from the growing fire eating away at the wooden crates and military uniforms.

With a sudden dash, Dekar sprinted out from cover, charging ahead, the pellets singing by his head as he could only hear the blood pounding in his ears. Swiveling the barrel to and fro, Dekar shot rapidly as quickly as he could, nailing two Nest guards in the head and chest. With his men keeping up, soon the dozen Nest guards were either dead or heavily injured, Yona's mercenaries whimpering on the floor as they tried to pluck the shrapnel bits out from their ruptured eyelids.

Dekar held no pity, immediately ending all their lives with two pellets to the head and three in the chest up close. The manager stared in horror as he watched the massacre unfold. Fuck, I got to call Yona! He rushed back into the office and slammed the door shut before quickly rummaging through his drawers for the arctech radio. However, before he even managed to find it, the door was kicked apart, the hinge destroyed by Dekar’s increased strength. The manager now found himself staring at two barrels aimed right at him, one of them being Dekar's own rifle. "Step away from the radio if you want to live."

The manager's eyes darted about as he tried to look for a way out, gingerly raising his hand while taking one obvious step away from the table. He did not recognize Dekar due to the camouflaged paint, instead blurting out anything that could save him. “Look, I don’t know what you want, but I got money if you’re trying run a protection racket! But let me fucking remind you that it is Nest that –“

Dekar walked up and smacked the manager right in the face. “Shut the fuck up. You have a man here I'm looking for. His name is Zayin.”

“What? Nest would kill – ARGH!” A pellet burst through his calf, causing the manager to fall to the group, his face crashing against the stone floor. The sole of Dekar’s military boot rested against his face, crushing his jaw slightly.

"Not if we kill you first." Dekar spat before turning around to face his men. "I'll go find him myself. The rest of you, stay here and keep a lookout. We have to leave before they respond."

While Dekar's men took turns harassing the manager, Dekar himself went to search for where the slaves had run off to. Connected directly to the main factory floor were what seemed to be repurposed burial chambers, now acting as cramped housing for countless slaves far even beyond what Dekar had estimated.

The chambers were filled with as many people as they could fit inside, all living in clustered groups while huddling around what belongings and clothes they were allowed to accumulate, many of which were defective military uniforms. Some laid on unused wooden planks, their hands callused from the constant work shifts. There were close to three hundred people in the chambers, both young and old, a veritable mixed pot of all types of people. A few naïve kids stared at Dekar entering, some of them marveling at the armor that Dekar sported.

Yet the adults dared not look at Dekar in the eyes, afraid that he was from a rival gang that was simply here to take possession of them. Mothers grabbed their kids out of the way as Dekar filtered through the tight space, trying to control his emotions, focusing on finding Zayin. It wasn't until he walked past a young, shriveled-up man that he began to realize where all of these slaves were from.

He spun around, trying to confirm his assumption and asking the nearest slave. "Where are you from?"

"Where am I from...? I was born in Tenar. I grew up my whole life here." The slave replied as if it was an obvious fact, his face confused. "Almost all of us are."

Dekar's heart plummeted as the truth became apparent. Many of the workers were local Versian citizens, those too poor to repay their debts or snatched off the streets, never to see the light of day anymore. Even children of eight years old and above were forced to work as well, climbing into small nook and crannies of dangerous complicated machinery to fix nuts and bolts. This was how Tenar had achieved such a perfected standard of living for those above ground.

Still, he had no time to despair. Continuing his search for Zayin, he finally noticed a grey-bearded man sitting cross-legged in the midst of a moldy pile of military uniforms and shredded leather, his skin drooping. Clear signs of malnutrition and years of muscle degradation were visible through the stick-like arms and the countless wrinkles etched on his face while his eyes stared blankly ahead. "Zayin!"

The old man spluttered out saliva, a weak grin growing on his face as Dekar hurriedly bent down to check his condition. Instead of embracing Dekar, Zayin used what strength he had left to smack his arm away. "Look who finally decided to visit. Second-in-command Lieutenant General of the Versian Revolutionary Army, Dekar. Have you finally realized what is happening?"

"Zayin, I... I didn't know anything. Mornero kept all of us in the dark, it is him who lied to us. He told us that you moved to Creuliz."

"Hah, me? Move to Creuliz?!" Zayin's eyes flared up with a hidden strength, fuelled purely by anger despite his deteriorating condition. "AFTER EVERYTHING I SACRIFICED FOR-" He coughed violently, his body unable to handle his rage. "After everything I had sacrificed for the country, for my friends and people, and for Tenar, you think I would just up and leave? I was born here! In Tenar! My very own home ground!”

"Zayin, I swear, I did not know any of this, and I will make it right. I'm going to get you out of here. We can still save Tenar and Versia if you help me, just like in old times."

"I'm tired, Dekar. I'm tired of the old times. I'm tired of the speeches. Everywhere I went, I was tugged in a direction I never truly believed in. To me, you are the same as Johan and Mornero."

"Johan did everything right by us and by the peo-"

"Don't you dare say that in front of all these people who've you let down! Do you have any idea how long I have been stuck down here? SEVEN YEARS! And it took your corruption scandal for you to finally open your eyes. All the social welfare schemes preached, all for naught and only for the well-to-do. Us lowlifes? We belong here, and I doubt you are going to be able to change anything."

Dekar clenched his fist in anger, but not towards Zayin, instead himself for not knowing how deep the corruption had taken root in the Versian government. "I will do everything in my power to make this right, even if I have to face the whole of Nest and the army alone. You can count on me - no more speeches this time, only action." He grabbed Zayin's light body by the waist, hauling him upwards while ignoring Zayin's protests.

"Alright, I have Zayin, we can mov-" Dekar left the chambers only to be faced with an entire squadron of Yona's mercenaries surrounding him. He instinctively pulled out a side handgun from his belt, but a sudden gust of sharp, slicing wind blasted the handgun out of his grip and cut deep into his wrist. Two pellets were shot into his thighs immediately before he could retreat back into the chambers, the slaves near the chamber's entrance shrieking in fear and scampering away while Dekar fell to both knees.

"Looks like Masir was right about you guys attacking after all." Yona grinned, closing her arctech paper fan with a crisp snap and walking up to the grimacing Dekar, who clutched his bleeding thighs. As she approached, Dekar summoned the strength he had left, lunging out with a hidden knife from his thigh's side pocket, stabbing right at Yona's neck.

Instead of the blade finding its mark, the tip of the blade was stopped by a swirling wind of gust, which immediately sped up and wreaked havoc all along Dekar's arm, the slices cutting deep into his flesh as he let out a roar of pain. "Please don't try anything new. I still have to keep you in one piece for Mornero." Yona spoke with a smug face, the closed paper fan still glowing with arcia energy.

While Dekar winced in pain, his eyes caught sight of his squad, all of them captured and knocked unconscious as well. "Worried about your friends? Don't worry, you'll be heading to the same torture room." Yona grinned, motioning with her manicured fingers for two of her mercenaries to pick Dekar and Zayin up.

Dekar struggled against the mercenaries' tight grip in a futile attempt. She must have planted the trap in the first place. I was too bull-headed in trying to save Zayin. He looked around for a way out, but it seemed impossible, with nearly two dozen mercenaries escorting them out onto the pier, hauling them onto a boat that began to take them out of the catacombs. Yet as he continued glancing around while the boat moved, he noticed the strange shadow of a woman in the distance, stalking them and matching the speed of the boat like an unseen ghost, her silhouette barely visible.

The boat finally approached a new stop in another part of the catacombs, the water being slowed artificially by dams and barriers to create a smooth coasting canal that led to another pier, this one is right under Asha Street. A clear underground establishment had been set up, much like the sweatshop Dekar had just raided, but the glowing neon arctech signs on the exterior showed it was of a different business.

As Dekar was forcibly dragged into it, he watched as a crowd of customers cheered and roared while they watched two ruffians have a go at each other on top of three round tables, the frames barely able to hold on as their weight continuously shifted. Sweat and blood were flung into the cheering onlookers, who heartily downed their pints and shouted.

“COME ON, YA WUSS! GRAB HIM BY THE BALLS!”

“THE EYES! AIM FOR THE EYES, YOU FUCK WIT!”

Dekar tried to ignore the flashing arctech lights glistening all around him, the underground bar clearly being run by Nest. Slave female dancers dressed in revealing clothes paraded themselves on the stage while men threw flowers at the girls non-stop as they groped another girl who was already giving them a lap dance. The kaleidoscopic lights from the tinted arctech lanterns swiveled around the floor while jazz music blasted from the surrounding arctech radios.

Yona's mercenaries shoved their way through the rowdy dancing crowd, many of the dancers clearly intoxicated by some drugs, empty potion flasks plastered with the emblem of Nest rolling on the ground or shattered by the boots of the mercenaries. Dekar continued to be hauled downstairs, deeper underground past the churning arctech engines that powered the entire establishment, until he was thrown unceremoniously into a plush velvet room, the cupboards along the walls lined with extravagant alcohol and potions of a dizzying array, converging on a gold-tinted desk.

Dekar was left to bleed out on the carpet while the rest of his men were imprisoned elsewhere. Yona paced around the bleeding Dekar while five of her mercenaries aimed their rifles directly at him, ready to fire at a moment's notice. She picked up an Euria pipe from the desk, carefully placing grounded Euria Seeds into it. "So, Minister Dekar, you've been somehow evading us for the last three months. Care to explain how?"

A small, confident grin grew on his face. "Looks like Mornero never really paid attention back then. He should know the answer well enou-"

Dekar felt the sharp tip of Yona's heel jab into his already wounded thigh, sending a wave of pain through his nerves. "You know how to navigate the catacombs fully, and you're going to show us how."

"So you can enslave more Versian citizens? You're a disgrace to the state and everything we have fought for!" Dekar retorted, only to earn an amused expression from Yona.

"Why do I care? I'm not even Versian." Yona took a deep breath on the pipe. "Are you still worrying about the 'nation' even in this situation? I can't tell if you're being serious or keeping up an act."

"Unlike the rest of those corrupt, selfish fuckers in government, I actually believe in something beyond myself."

"Well, then, let me help you believe something in yourself." Yona bent over to whisper. "You will not get out of here alive unless you help me. You can spend the rest of your miserable life rotting in a dark, damp cell, waxing lyrical about the Versian state while I decimate the rest of your stupid Ghosts of Versia."

Dekar was about to retort, but then his expression became even more confounded. "What? What Ghosts of Versia?"

"Don't play dumb. I've already raided one of your hideouts at the Golden Day bookstore."

Dekar's confused look did not dissipate, only infuriating Yona even further. "Fine, if you won't talk, I'll wrench it out from yo-"

A sudden loud explosion resounded through the foundation of the underground bar, rocking the VIP room that they were in. "You two, get out there and find out what the fuck happened!" Yona immediately ordered while she grabbed Dekar by the cheek. "Looks like your friends have come to rescue you. Too bad they are walking into their graves."

Dekar's confusion deepened even more while Yona continued to issue orders to defend the establishment. That's not possible. I only have my five men and Zayin, no one else. Who is coming to save me?

Minutes passed while the tension in the room built up, Yona suddenly cognizant of the fact that the firefight was not subsiding, the sounds of fighting and screaming louder than ever. "You three, flank the door's entrance. Anyone else who barges in, shoot them on the spot. I don't care if they are Nest or not! Get everyone out there fighting now!"

The three mercenaries fanned out, hugging the wall where the VIP door's entrance was, their sweaty hands clutching the holster of their rifle. Through the wall, they could hear the brawl getting closer and closer, the clear, distinct sound of a body tumbling down the stairs past the arctech engines before silence reigned dominant. The bar's music had completely paused, save for the bated breaths of the mercenaries, Yona and Dekar.

Slowly, the sound of footsteps approaching the door got louder and louder. Yona quickly grabbed an arctech radio, whispering into it while she prepared her own paper fan. "We need backup at the Flirty Hole, now!"

But before she could get a response, a loud bang exploded the door inwards of its hinges, zooming past the cowering Dekar and crashing into the floor, kicking up a thick cloud of dust. The moment the silhouette of a body was visible at the door, the three mercenaries opened fire relentlessly, pelting the body with withering fire.

Instead, the body turned out to be a dead Nest guard, his skin now pockmarked and ragged by the hailstorm of pellets he had endured. The body was shoved aside, crashing into one of the mercenaries while an intruder moved with an alarming speed, catching another mercenary off-guard. The intruder's hand slammed into the base of the mercenary's jaw, splintering the bone internally into a dozen fragments before a handgun drilled three pellets into his chest.

Before the intruder could move to the last mercenary, a slice of wind arced forward in a straight line, forcing the intruder to dodge out of the way as the slice crashed into the wall, tearing apart the wallpaper. Yona swung the fan, forming a strong wind gust to drop Dekar close to her, aiming a handgun with her free hand toward Dekar's temple. "Don't move another inch, or I'll blast his brains out. That wouldn't be too good for your rescue mission now, would it be?"

"Oh? It seems that even the great Lady Yona is wrong sometimes" The intruder smirked, the dust and smoke finally clearing up enough to reveal his face. Dekar was astonished by the person. Kris Greyborn?!

Yona squinted her eyes. "Wrong?"

"My mission isn't just to rescue him. I'm here to kill all of you."

<---Chapter 105 - Tenar | Table of Contents | Chapter 107 - Slaughter  --->