Chapter 12 Fleeting Reunion

Chapter 12 Fleeting Reunion

Despite entering the wooden door, Darion is nowhere to be found. Xenric pressed himself against the cold stone wall, his breath steady despite the tension coiling in his muscles. The underground hideout was dimly lit, torches flickering along the damp corridors, casting eerie shadows that danced with every movement. He had managed to slip past several guards, using the cover of darkness to remain unseen. Now, he stood before a heavy iron door, its surface rusted with age but still formidable in its strength.

He ran his fingers along its surface, feeling the cold iron beneath his touch. His gut told him Darion was behind this door. He had searched through multiple chambers, finding nothing but empty cells and terrified prisoners who recoiled at the sight of him. This was different. The door was reinforced, its edges lined with crude engravings markings of ownership, of something valuable hidden behind it.

The problem was getting through it. A thick chain secured the door, held by a massive iron lock that looked nearly impenetrable. Xenric cursed under his breath. He didn't have the tools to pick such a heavy lock, nor did he have the strength to break it down. He needed another way.

He glanced around, his sharp eyes scanning the corridor for anything useful. His fingers traced the hilt of his sword, considering his options. Breaking it with brute force would only alert the slavers, and he couldn't afford to be outnumbered down here. He needed something more subtle.

His gaze fell upon a small alcove to his right. A narrow wooden door stood slightly ajar, its hinges loose. Carefully, he pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was cramped, filled with crates and barrels supplies for the slavers, no doubt. He rifled through them quickly, searching for anything of use. Then, his eyes landed on a set of keys hanging from a rusted nail on the wall.

His heartbeat quickened. Could these be the keys to the cells? To Darion's prison?

A sudden noise outside made him freeze. Footsteps. Heavy, deliberate. The slavers were making their rounds.

Xenric snatched the keys and slipped back into the shadows, pressing himself against the wall. He held his breath as the footsteps passed, two men muttering to each other in low voices.

"Hurry! The Kingdom is under attack we should leave!"

"How about the slaves?"

"Forget about them, we might be underground far from the castle but it will only be a matter of time."

"But the boss says we move the special one tomorrow."

"I'm leaving if you're not coming then don't"

Xenric's grip tightened around the keys. The kingdom is under attack and they had to be talking about Darion. He had no more time to waste.

As soon as the guards turned the corner, Xenric hurried back to the iron door. His hands worked quickly, testing the keys one by one. Each failed attempt made his pulse pound harder in his ears. Then, finally a click.

The lock gave way.

Xenric gripped the handle and slowly pushed the door open, revealing the darkness beyond.

"Darion…" he whispered, stepping inside.

The air was thick with dampness and sweat. Chains rattled in the darkness, followed by a weak, ragged cough.

Then, a voice, hoarse, but unmistakable.

"Xenric…?"

Relief flooded him, but there was no time to celebrate. They needed to get out. Now.

"We're leaving," Xenric said firmly, moving toward the figure slumped against the far wall. "Can you stand?"

Darion lifted his head, his face bruised, his wrists shackled. "Not without help."

"I tried to escape several times until they put me here, I'm glad you found me."

Xenric gritted his teeth. They weren't out of danger yet.

And the slavers would be back any moment.

The heavy iron door groaned as Xenric and Darion stepped out into the dimly lit corridors of the underground hideout. The air was thick with tension, the flickering torches casting long, wavering shadows against the damp stone walls. But before they could savor their moment of freedom, a deafening noise from above rattled through the underground chambers.

The entire hideout was in chaos. Slavers hurriedly scrambled to round up the remaining captives, their shouts of urgency echoing through the tunnels. The distant sound of battle the clashing of steel, the roars of beasts, and the agonized cries of the dying filtered in from above, a grim reminder that the kingdom of Aeronberg was under attack.

Xenric's grip on Darion tightened as he hoisted him over his shoulder. "We need to move. Now."

Darion, still weakened from his ordeal, gritted his teeth and nodded. "Which way?"

Before Xenric could answer, a slaver's voice cut through the noise. "There! The escapees!"

A group of armed slavers rushed toward them, blades drawn, eyes blazing with desperation. Xenric barely managed to react in time, twisting away from the first strike and slashing his sword upward in a counterattack. His blade carved through the air, striking true and sending the slaver sprawling back with a pained cry.

Darion, still sluggish but determined, threw a punch at one of the approaching enemies. It lacked his usual force, but it was enough to send the slaver staggering into a wall. Xenric took the opening and drove his sword into the man's side before spinning to block another incoming strike.

The chaos of the underground hideout worked in their favor. Slavers and captives clashed everywhere some slaves rebelled, others were forced into submission, and the traders desperately tried to maintain control. Xenric and Darion took advantage of the confusion, weaving through the mass of bodies, evading capture at every turn.

Then it happened.

As they sprinted through a narrow passage, Darion caught sight of a hidden underground tunnel concealed behind a stack of crates. He turned to Xenric and made a quick, decisive hand signal, indicating he would go ahead and Xenric should follow.

But in the pandemonium, Xenric misread the signal.

Instead of following Darion, he turned sharply into another passage, thinking it was the safer route. The moment he stepped into the corridor, a rush of slavers flooded between them, blocking Darion's path. The sheer number of bodies fleeing slaves, violent captors, and overturned debris made it impossible for them to reach each other.

"Xenric!" Darion shouted, his voice barely audible over the uproar. He saw Xenric turn for a split second, realization dawning on his face but by then, the slavers were upon him again, forcing him to retreat into the unknown depths of the hideout.

Darion clenched his fists in frustration as he disappeared into the underground passage. He had no choice but to keep moving.

Darion's breath came in ragged gasps as he sprinted through the dimly lit tunnel, his heart hammering against his ribs. The underground passage twisted and turned like a serpent, its damp walls closing in around him. The torches lining the stone walls flickered violently, casting eerie shadows that danced with each step he took.

Footsteps thundered behind him. The slavers had not given up the chase.

Gritting his teeth, he glanced over his shoulder. A trio of armed slavers pursued him, their blades gleaming under the torchlight. Darion knew he couldn't outrun them forever he had to fight.

Skidding to a stop, he spun around just as the first slaver lunged. Instinct took over. Darion ducked beneath the wild swing and drove his fist into the man's gut. The slaver let out a choked gasp, stumbling back, but another was already on him.

A dagger slashed toward his side. Darion barely managed to twist out of the way, feeling the cold steel graze his ribs. Pain flared, but he had no time to dwell on it. With a roar, he grabbed the attacker's wrist and wrenched it sideways, forcing the dagger from his grip. Before the slaver could react, Darion sent a brutal knee into his chest, sending him sprawling.

The third slaver hesitated, momentarily startled by Darion's ferocity. That was all the opening he needed. He lunged forward, grabbed the man by the collar, and slammed his forehead into the slaver's nose. Blood sprayed as the man crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain.

Panting, Darion wiped the sweat from his brow and pressed on. He had to find Xenric. Had to get out.

On the other side of the underground labyrinth, Xenric gritted his teeth as he parried a vicious strike from a slaver wielding a jagged scimitar. The force of the blow sent a jolt of pain through his already bruised arms, but he refused to falter.

His sword clashed against the slaver's again, sparks flying in the confined space. With a swift feint, he sidestepped and drove his knee into the slaver's thigh. The man stumbled, giving Xenric the opening he needed. With a swift, precise thrust, his blade found the slaver's chest, ending the fight in an instant.

No time to waste.

Xenric yanked his sword free and pressed forward, his mind racing. He had lost sight of Darion, and every moment wasted increased the chance that his friend was in danger. The underground hideout was a labyrinth of tunnels, each one echoing with the sounds of battle and chaos. Slaves and slavers clashed in pockets of resistance, while others fled into the unknown darkness.

As he turned a corner, a pair of slavers blocked his path. One carried a chain, the other a short spear. Without hesitation, Xenric charged. The slaver with the chain lashed out, but Xenric ducked low and surged forward. His sword flashed, cutting across the man's leg. The slaver howled and collapsed.

The second attacker lunged, thrusting his spear toward Xenric's chest. Reacting swiftly, Xenric twisted his body, allowing the spear to graze his side instead of piercing flesh. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he caught the spear's shaft and yanked it forward, pulling the slaver off balance. A heartbeat later, Xenric drove his blade through his foe's throat, silencing him.

Breathing heavily, Xenric surveyed his surroundings. More slavers were coming, their shouts growing louder. He had to keep moving. Had to find Darion.

With no other choice, he turned down another dark passage, his sword gripped tightly in his bloodied hands.

Both warriors fought their way through the chaos, each navigating their own path through the hellish underground.