Chương 4: Chapter II — The Final Rest of the Noble’s Entourage

It was here, when twin moons bathed the wilderness in an eerie, serene brilliance—the same silver light that had watched Galan on the night everything changed. Resting at the edge of a jagged cliff miles away, Galan was leaning back against a tree trunk with his eyes closed. He wasn't sleeping. Through his mindcast, his senses stretched across the dark expanse. He locked onto the ancient road and watched the convoy like a shepherd eyeing a flock meant for the blade.

He sought those with fleeces too coarse for the keep. In his world, when a beast produced nothing but kemp, it was marked for the cull.

"Stop!" the young navigator called out in Latin, his voice cutting through the chill air.

"We've reached our destination!" The convoy rolled to a halt inside the crumbling walls of an old outpost. The noble's carriage stopped between the stables, and the entourage dismounted. The air was heavy with the scent of damp wood and moss. Marcus, the weary navigator, directed the unloading. Two guards climbed onto the carriage roof, reaching into the portable divine vault to pass down supplies.

"Hey, Marcus," one guard called, tossing down a bundle of hay.

"Are you sure we can't keep going?" Marcus sighed, studying his map.

"The city is still twenty-five miles away. If we rest now, we'll be able to handle anything nature throws at us tomorrow."

"He's right," another guard chimed in.

"Sweet dreams, Marcus. Don't let the vampires bite you in your sleep!" He dropped down.

"Go to hell," Marcus muttered with a scowl. A tired navigator trying to get by, Galan noted. And guards who are just following orders… minor players. Though they might still have played a role in the brothel. The camp sprang to life. Guards cleared the overgrown courtyard with pruning blades, while others deployed automatic cleaning bags that devoured the debris with hungry, arcane tendrils. The noble, a man whose cruelty was matched only by his laziness, sat in a chair near the carriage.

"Put your back into it, Gaius!" he barked.

"Don't make me regret bringing you along, you good-for-nothing swine!" Gaius, the young apprentice, struggled under the weight of a magical instant tent. He dropped it with a sharp clang, earning a round of chuckles from the guards.

"I can't… lift this…" he gasped, wiping sweat from his brow. Galan's focus narrowed. Across the miles, he felt the boy's physical exhaustion, suffocated by the crushing weight of the noble's verbal abuse. So that's the guy, Galan thought, the verdict forming in his mind as he recalled the bounty for the man he was sent here to kill. But the boy seems more interesting. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Lucilla! Aurelia!" the noble shouted.

"Set up my tent!" The two personal maids hurried to obey. Aurelia, older and more experienced, took the brunt of the weight.

"One, two, three!" With a synchronized tap on both ends of the pole, they hurled the bundle forward. Runes blazed along the seams, and the tent burst to life, expanding and locking into a wide-framed shelter in seconds. Two young maids… the older one is definitely her.

"Well then, let's put the bed inside," Aurelia said. But Lucilla glanced over at Gaius, still struggling with his own tent.

"Go help him," Aurelia commanded, knowing that she could handle the beds by herself. Lucilla nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. She approached the apprentice quietly, hearing his complaints.

"How does this work? Do I have to throw it?"

"No, you can just—" Gaius snapped his head back.

"Ah! Don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry!" Lucilla covered her mouth.

"I just wanted to help."

"It's okay," Gaius said, softening.

"What were you saying?"

"You can just tap the pole on both ends, then move away. But I'll help you this time." Together, they activated the tent, and the structure sprang up just like the last one. Lucilla turned back to Gaius.

"With that finished, I will now return to my teacher," she said, her voice soft.

"I'll go get the rest of the tents," Gaius replied, a genuine smile on his face.

"Thanks a lot for helping me." Lucilla looked down, tilting her head.

"It's no big deal, really." Watching the two of them, Galan felt a flicker of cold pity. She was young, her mind filled with nothing but innocent affection and duty. She serves two monsters, Galan thought, reading the purity of her intentions, but her own hands are clean. A few yards away, Aurelia, who had been carrying two large bedrolls on her shoulder toward the noble's tent, called out to them. Her voice was firm but kind.

"Good work, you two," she said.

"But remember to give his gratitude a proper reply, Lucilla. Don't let your feelings for him get in the way of proper decorum." Lucilla's head snapped up.

"Ah!" A deep blush bloomed across her cheeks, and she stared at the ground, her body trembling. Gaius, for his part, just smiled awkwardly.

"Uhh… you should probably go help her," he stammered, pointing a thumb back toward Marcus.

"I'll head back to him." Lucilla gave a nervous, jerky nod.

"Mm-hm." As they parted ways, Lucilla couldn't suppress the smile that spread across her face. Galan noticed, his hardened lips forming a smile of his own. Would hate to interfere with their love life, but hopefully my plan won't shake them up too much. Moving his mind's gaze to the camp's center, he noticed that the camp's cook, Tullius, was tending to a bubbling pot over the fire. His brother Decimus, the overseer, leaned in with a smirk.

"Hey, Tullius. Check out Ms.

'Falling in Love' over there," he teased.

"Leave her be, Decimus," Tullius sighed.

"Oh, c'mon, doesn't she remind you of a certain somebody?" Decimus teased.

"That's also none of your business," Tullius growled.

"Pfft, you're no fun."

"If you want fun, go fetch me some pork, why don't you?"

"That's more like it!" Decimus declared. A cook and camp overseer… Galan mused, considering their worth. Could use more of those back home. Decimus strode toward the carriage, shouting, "Out of the way, ladies! The master chef is ready to prepare the gourmet!"

"Finally! I'm starving!" shouted Gaius.

"Not so fast, kid. We still need to put in the beds," said the older lead guard.

"Ugh, seriously? I'm tired." Meanwhile, Decimus reached into the divine vault, retrieving a large, frozen cut of meat. Gaius, energized by the sight of it, scrambled to help unload the beds.

"Alright! Let's do this!" he cheered. As the child entered one of the guard's tents, the noble bellowed his laughter.

"Hah! Guess he wasn't so tired after all!" Laughter rippled throughout the camp. Galan tasted the anticipation in their thoughts—the promise of a hot meal after a long journey, the simple brotherly banter, and the relief of rest. They were a normal entourage living normal lives, utterly blind to the bloody foundation of the wealth that paid for their comforts. Ignorance isn't an excuse, Galan calculated coldly. But it is a mitigating factor.

The camp continued to hum with warmth and camaraderie, pushing back on the cold, inexorable darkness surrounding them. At least for now. For Galan had already balanced his ledger. It was almost time to close the book.