[12] VISITORS

A loud knock on the door startled Rillon onto his feet. "About time they showed up." He slammed his palms together, transitioning into a hand-sign. "But why choose the morning?" He waited for the door to burst open.

The door was knocked again, even harder this time.

"As soon as you enter, I'll kill you—"

"Rillon, you son of a bitch," a voice came from the other side. "Wake up! It's an emergency!"

Rillon stood upright, relaxing his body. "Is that…Dyso?" He gulped, trying to figure out if it's a trap or not. "No…it has to be them."

A fist punched a hole into the door, an eye looking at Rillon from the other side through it. "What the hell, Rillon," it was Dyso's voice. "If you're up already then why aren't you answering?"

"Dyso," Rillon asked. "Is that really you—?"

"No shit, it's me, you moron!" Dyso said. "Now get down to the main hall, we have news to discuss." With that, he walked away from the door.

"News?" Rillon thought. "Oh! I must be on the front cover, of course. They'd want me protected. I should get going."

Rillon walked slowly toward the door, still half-convinced. He reached for the door knob, flicking it open, then hiding behind the door as he slowly pulled it. "I'm so stupid! I should've checked outside through the hole first." But it was already too late. He gulped peeking from the side of the door—

A hand reached for his neck, making him jump back. "Nice try, morons."

"Coffee?"

"Heh?"

The maid entered the room. "Do you want coffee, sir Rillon?"

Rillon stood upright, exhaling softly. "It was just the maid… But, wait… That's what they would want me to believe. She could be trying to poison me with that… I shouldn't take it—"

"Your eyes look really baggy, sir," the maid said. "Didn't you get sleep last night?"

"Umm… No, actually… I had to stay awake," Rillon said. "If I would've slept then that would've been my final time sleeping."

"I…don't really get your metaphors, sir," the maid said, raising a mug toward him. "But this coffee ought to help you in staying awake."

Rillon gulped, taking the mug off her hand. "Right…" The maid bowed then left his room. He looked into the dark liquid swirling inside his mug. "It looks pretty normal to me… But that's exactly what they would want me to believe! I won't be fooled." He placed the mug atop his desk, leaving the room.

Rillon looked around, carefully stepping down each stair. Nothing seemed off. But the air was full of murmurs… He glanced at the group formed around a table in the main hall of the stronghold. All of them were Buster Seekers. Still…nothing seemed off. It was just like any other morning, minus the murmuring and doubtful faces of his comrades.

"If one of them turns out to be an assassin," Rillon thought, gritting his teeth. "I don't know how I'll handle it… Can I even trust you guys?" He walked awkwardly toward the group, finding Dyso amidst them.

"Finally, my lord," Dyso said loudly with a stiff expression. "With Mistress and Alaric gone, we only have you left. Tell us what to do, Rillon."

Rillon narrowed his eyes, the group waiting for his word. Then his eyes fell upon the paper that rested atop the middle of the table, around which the group had gathered. He moved to pick it up, confused at his comrades' behavior.

"The council ended yesterday," Rillon thought, flattening the newspaper. "Captain and Alaric should've returned by now. Are they counting on me because I'm on the—?"

Upon reading the article on the front page, Rillon's eyes widened; his jaw relaxed. "Ho-Wha—?"

"How strong can the 'Strongest Rookie Seeker' be," the title read, "if he got beat this bad, this easily?" Under this article, a photograph was printed. The photograph of a near-dead young man wrapped in bandages from head to toe. The bandages…which seemed darkened by blood.

"This photographer was just fired," Dyso said. "The article received a lot of backlash—"

"What the hell happened, Dyso," Rillon asked, turning to him. "Who did this to Vyzen?"

Dyso looked away, shaking his head. "Desperado."

"Wh…What?" Rillon said. "Why?"

"We don't know the details yet," Dyso said, pointing at the paper. "But as you can see…Vyzen is…"

"They couldn't have been regular gangsters," Rillon said. "Is this the work of…?" He observed the eerie silence that followed after he mentioned it.

"Just…" Dyso said. "Read the second paragraph…"

Rillon looked down at the newspaper, scanning the second paragraph—

"…staff claims to have seen an Onyx Bane member…"

He slowly returned to the others. "We should get going."

"Where to?" Dyso asked. "If they were targeting Vyzen, can it mean that they'll be targeting us too?"

"You tell me," Rillon said. "Do we have any idea why they attacked him?"

Dyso shook his head.

"But we can never be too cautious," Rillon said. "Let's stick to my plan and try to find Mistress or Alaric."

"Find? We already know where they are."

"Wh…?"

"Palio informed us just now that Alaric and Mistress have gone to Fleya, to convince the doctors to operate on Vyzen."

"Convince them? Did those bastards deny on treating the 'Strongest Rookie'?"

"If you read further…it mentions that Vyzen was admitted there by…Mamba."

Rillon opened his mouth to respond but stopped abruptly, processing what Dyso just told him. "Did I hear you say…?"

"That's what Palio told us," Dyso said, raising his shoulders. "The number five of the Onyx Ten admitted Vyzen in Hopevale. The doctor who reported it to us had since been silenced."

Rillon shook his head. "What is even going on?"

"We're just as confused," Dyso said. "So…what do we do?"

Rillon glanced at the sour faces of his comrades, each Seeker in that hall counting on his command. "And I was wondering if I can trust them… I'm so stupid…"

"What other choice do we have?" Rillon said. "Let's group with Raven, they'll tell us what to do till captain returns."

"Why?" Dyso said. "Our connection with Raven is good and all but—"

"With Mistress Valisha and Master Dubius gone," Rillon said. "Raven is the strongest guild in Kyubu as of now. We'll need their strength if the Desperado pays us a visit."

"That's…right," Dyso said. "We should start packing."

Rillon waved around at the awaiting Seekers. "Everyone, collect your essentials, we're going to the Raven stronghold—"

The main gate of the stronghold opened, a dark figure standing on its other side, several others behind him. "No, you're not…" a heavy voice announced.

***

Mamba walked toward the iron door of the 'special chamber', hands in his pocket, cigar in his mouth.

The guard bowed; sliding open the chamber door as Mamba gave him a slight nod.

Walking inside the dimly lit room, Mamba's steps splashed the puddle of dark liquid trailing from the legs of the chair in the middle of the room, underneath the flickering bulb. He took out his cigar, exhaling smoke as he glanced at the sharp objects, painted with blood, atop the tables on either side of the chair.

They seemed useless, now that this day's highlight had been changed.

"You're done," Mamba said in his rough voice. "Let's go."

Python turned toward Mamba from his squat before the chair, plucking off the toenails of the man strapped onto it. Python did enjoy this sequence more, though personally, Mamba preferred to pick off teeth after he was done with fingernails.

"Ah," Python smiled, rising from his squat, placing a screwdriver atop a table. "So you do get impatient, Mamba."

"That ain't it," Mamba said, reaching inside his coat pocket. "They reprinted today's paper."

"And?" Python said, sharpening a knife.

Mamba showed him the updated highlight. "We don't need the old man anymore."

Python read the title. "Rillon Shonav, the protector of Esbara." He shrugged, looking up at Mamba. "What do you want to say?"

Mamba placed a finger beneath a specific line. "This is our guy."

Python thinned his eyes. "Just last morning," he read. "Rillon Shonav heroically saved the Thesly Avenue from an attack of the deadly Black Rose—" He snorted loudly. "I can't…" He laughed. "That got me good…"

Mamba slammed the paper atop the table to his left, knocking objects off it. "While we're still in Esbara, let's pay them a visit."

Python vanished from the view, wrapping a knife around Mamba's neck from the back. "Easy there, dear partner, you almost broke my toys."

"Pfft," Mamba said, shaking his head. He used his alchoskill to faze through Python, appearing onto his side. "You can enjoy this Rillon guy alone. I have someone else to find."

Python licked his knife, a crescent grin taking over his bony face. "So he's the one who murdered three of your assassins. How exciting! I can't wait!"

Mamba exhaled a cloud of smoke onto Python's face. "Try not to get too excited around me, dear partner." He turned and walked toward the door.

"Won't you ask me what this old man told me," Python asked. "Aren't you curious at all?"

The guard slid the chamber door open from outside after Mamba tapped on it. He stood in the doorway for a moment, his cigar tip burning brighter.

"I haven't heard him make a noise since yesterday," Mamba said, walking away. "I know he's dead." Even though he did not look back, he still sensed the twisted grin on Python's face.

"On point, as always," Python said before the door closed.

"Prepare a visit after you're done, Python," Mamba said from his side. "Show them who they messed with."

***

Sliff yelled loudly as tears slipped off his chin. With fists full of grassy soil, he punched the ground.

"WHY! WHY?"

He raised his head hesitantly, trying to convince himself that whatever he saw was not real. But how could that be when a rock golem's hammer-fist had squished Galarax underneath it?

Sobbing, Sliff's mind yelled at him. "How will you get over this one? Galarax was even more supportive than Arlo. He was a slave too, like you, Sliff. He was the first person who embraced you without expecting anything back. How will you overcome this?"

"I don't know," Sliff told himself, sobbing. "I won't… I can't…" He nervously got onto his weak feet, the same ones that had given up on him, time and time again. "But I know that this is the end…"

"You said you were a warrior, Galarax," Sliff said, wiping off his tears. "Is this how a warrior acts? Get up… Please…

"GALARAX!"

"No need to yell, kid," Galarax said through gritted teeth. "I can hear you."

"Galarax! You're alive!"

Suddenly the fist of the golem started rising.

"You're really alive!"

Galarax had crossed his iron-muscled forearms, pushing against the hammer of the golem as it pressed him into the hill ground.

"Galarax—!"

The hammer lowered again…only to be pushed up so hard by Galarax that it made the golem topple backward. Then he pushed himself off the ground, launching into the air.

"Whoa!" Sliff said, watching Galarax's descent from over fifty feet.

Galarax landed in between the golems and Sliff, the ground cracking a bit as he squatted after falling. "Save those tears, kid, you might need them when I actually die."

Sliff glanced at the towering figure of Galarax as he stood upright. "Y-You really are a warrior, Galarax. That didn't even scratch you."

"That I am, shorty," Galarax said, smiling. "But trust me, you haven't seen anything yet."

"I…I've seen them before, Galarax. They're really strong when they combine."

"Na, shorty, you haven't seen anything yet."

"Are you even…? Anyway… What matters right now is for you to be careful, Galarax."

Galarax ruffled his hair. "Don't worry about me, shorty, I can handle them just fine."

"But…they attacked you…without you even knowing—"

"That's because I invited them. They're my visitors."

Sliff's jaw loosened. "In-Invited? Visitors?"

"Just stay here and watch me, kid. I'll show you how a real warrior fights, alright?"

Sliff nodded with a gulp.

Galarax put his fists out in front, a smile of excitement on his face.

"Not even a Guildmaster could defeat them," Sliff thought. "And Galarax is going to take on four of them at once…all alone?"

"Galarax," Sliff asked. "What…are they?"

"These?" Galarax said, pointing with his thumb. "These are what you would call alchobeasts."

"Alcho…beasts?" Sliff said, remembering the term from the previous day's council. "Just like…Zomir?"

Galarax whipped his head toward Sliff. "Where'd you hear that name, kid?"

"Huh? You know Zomir?"

"Yeah. He was my friend."

"Your…?"