Chapter Fourteen: Dog of The Tribunal

Aric leaned closer, his dagger's pointed edge pressing just enough to scrape the Paladin's throat, eyes narrowed with grim resolve. The Paladin, still trapped in the muck, struggled to find his balance, arms straining as he tried to lift himself from the bog's grasp. Mud sucked at his armor, keeping him pinned despite his best efforts. Finally, with a weary sigh, he let his arms fall flat, accepting defeat.

Aric spoke sternly, serious as he gave the man some dying dignity . "Any last words?"

The Paladin grunted, eyes fixed on the sky, chest heaving from the struggle. "Nay... I have none," he muttered, voice rough but resigned "Finish the fight."

Aric gave a curt but respectful nod. "Alright. You fought well, Paladin... even for a worshipper of the Tribunal."

At that, the Paladin's eyes snapped wide, a low rumble building in his chest. "WHAT?!" he bellowed, body convulsing as newfound strength coursed through him. His muscles tensed, and before Aric could press his blade deeper, the Paladin shook violently, forcing Aric's boot to slip. The knight somehow managing the impossible, rose halfway, muddy hands pushing against the ground, rage along keeping them from slipping.

Aric steadied himself, eyes widening. The Paladin continued, his voice booming despite his position. "You can insult my strategy, hells below, you can even kill me!" His massive frame shifted, forcing himself upright. "But don't you EVER call me a dog of the Tribunal."

The paladin flung forward an accusatory finger. "Coming from you, the Tribunal's prized hound... that's hilarious." He spat at Aric's feet, venom in his gaze.

The tension crackled between them. The Paladin glanced sideways, his eyes darting toward the flail still lying on the ground. His hand twitched, but Aric had already moved.

Aric's eyes glinted, lips barely moving as he whispered, "Slither."

In an instant, his body was engulfed in an ethereal serpentine aura. He shot forward, body weaving and bending unnaturally as if his bones were made of smoke and shadow. Ethereal scales shimmered across his limbs, spectral and serpentine, propelling him with inhuman grace as he cut the Paladin off from reaching his weapon.

The Paladin swung his fists wildly, raw strength bolstered by years of hand to hand training. His movements were heavy, deliberate, each punch backed with crushing force that rivaled even that of his flail. But it didn't matter. Now that the smoke had cleared, Aric could see every twitch of muscle, every telegraphed strike, as if time itself had slowed just for him.

"Damned slippery varmint!" the Paladin spat, frustration lacing his words as his fists tore through empty air. Aric flowed effortlessly around each strike, slithering and winding around them with ease. One step, two steps, a spin, he moved with the fluidity of mercury, evading every blow as if he could see them coming before they left the Paladin's hands.

"What sorcery is this?!" the Paladin bellowed, voice echoing through the fog. Aric barely felt his feet touch the ground; it was like his body moved on instinct, no, on something beyond instinct. Each dodge a ripple of divine intention, every sidestep a whisper of fate. He felt strangely disconnected from the motion, as if he were an observer to his own speed, watching himself slip through the onslaught as though gliding on water.

The Paladin's swings grew more desperate, wild haymakers cutting through mist and shadow. Aric weaved around them with ghostlike grace, almost bemused by the flailing attempts. For the first time, he could sense the gap, the chasm of power and precision that separated him from the Paladin when the haze no longer masked his strikes.

Finally, the knight's iron boot slipped in the mud, balance lost, and his massive frame crashed to a knee. His chest heaved, breath coming in ragged gasps, while Aric stood over him, calm and composed, blade still poised at his throat.

Aric's body came to a sudden, elegant stop, serpentine aura dismissing as he stood just inches from the Paladin's exposed throat, his stiletto blade angled perfectly against the silver plates. The Paladin's breath came ragged and shallow, fog spilling from his helm as Aric loomed over him, the edge of his weapon gleaming with shadowy tendrils. "We may have more in common than I thought." Aric spoke clearly, considering the man's virulent hatred for the Tribunal.

Aric leaned in, voice low and cold. "But I'm not the Tribunal's Hound. Not anymore. Call me that again..." He pressed the stiletto closer, metal creaking under the pressure. "And I will kill you."

The Paladin froze, breath hitching as if the blade at his throat had stolen the air from his lungs. Aric could feel the thunderous rhythm of the man's pulse beneath the steel, hammering like a war drum. For that brief, suspended moment, it seemed death itself hung in the air, sharp and imminent, waiting for a final blow. "Now. Who do you-" Aric started but a small voice cut him off.

"S-See!" it said, breaking the tension, both men glanced sideways.

The child sprinted over, waving his arms frantically. "I told you he was good!" He darted between them, eyes wide with panic, looking from Aric to the Paladin. "Please, Sir Knight! Don't kill Sir Gondwyck! He's a good man, much like you!"

Aric didn't move, eyes narrowed in suspicion, and then widening in surprise. The Paladin, however, raised his hands slowly, signaling surrender. "Gah..." He sighed aloud, shoulders slumping as he rose clumisly from the floor. "It's as the young sir says."

To Aric's utter confusion, the towering knight immediately dropped back down to a knee, and began bowing his head before the child. "My deepest apologies, Sir Trinn! I have failed to recognize your wisdom and guidance in the heat of battle!"

The child's cheeks flushed, stammering. "P-please! Don't kneel to me, it's... unsightly. I'm just a-"

The Paladin cut him off, his voice firm and unwavering. "Nonsense! I must pay a penance for this misdeed. I have dishonored myself by acting rashly."

Aric stood frozen, mouth half open, blade still extended but forgotten. He glanced at the kneeling Paladin, then at the flustered child, brain struggling to process what had just unfolded.

"Thirteen Pits..." he muttered in disbelief.

"What the hell is going on here?!"