26 – False Hunters?

If the group approaching with Tristan were the demon hunters he called, then these three inside were obviously not.

I should’ve known, I already suspected, with the way they didn’t know basic information Tristan sent.

But if these were the fake demon hunters, then how come they didn’t just attack me? There were more than enough moments to go for it. Even if they feared an investigation by the temple or Steelheart family, they had ample circumstantial evidence.

It couldn’t be that they were intimidated by my armed forces.

I didn’t believe for a second that those three couldn’t beat all the guards here. With Lars in the mix, it might be a bit more uncertain, but none of us knew what kinds of artifacts the three had. They were obviously kitted out with at least some stuff.

On the other hand, if it somehow turned out these were not fake, then what would the sight of a group of ‘demon hunters’ approaching with people who were clearly my guards make them think?

Sure, Tristan was in the group too, but he was towards the back. If it wasn’t for my unusual senses and shared rat-vision giving me a different angle, I probably wouldn’t have noticed him.

Not like his apparel was very eye-catching. At least if his sash wasn’t clearly visible.

The two groups had a stand-off for a few seconds, neither moving.

“Priest Tristan is here,” I said, trying to diffuse tensions. I didn’t quite believe, even now, that the original group were fake. I didn’t know how they ended up here, but their behavior was more in line with suspicious real demon hunters than agents sent to harm me.

“I see how it is.”

A glance back towards me from the captain was all it needed to break the stalemate.

The group of three outside charged forward.

Damn it, was all I could think before all hell broke loose.

Turning back towards the outside, the captain gestured to his allies, shouting silently. With a slam, the entrance hall’s large doors closed. A shimmering knife, only about the length of my pinkie, embedded in the center immediately after. The glassy-eyed man, who’d thrown it, made a few hand symbols and probably also said words at it. I couldn’t quite tell, since he was inaudible as always and faced away from me.

Shimmering light, barely visible, spread across the entire door frame. Moments later, a loud impact resounded from outside, but the wood didn’t budge. What small part of my mind was paying attention to the rats’ vision saw the outside group bash against the doors.

With the entrance sealed, the group inside turned in our direction.

My defenders had managed to get properly between us at least. Still, it wasn’t enough.

A small phial flew from the captain’s hand, in a high arc, until it hit the floor right in front of my group. My vision, no longer hindered by the outside light, caught a pale blue liquid sloshing within before shattered glass filled the room with mist.

My vision was immediately blocked, though I could still hear and smell the intruders. Aside from the captain of course, his position was vague. And closing fast.

Whatever was in that phial apparently had more than a purely vision-blocking effect. Not even a second after the fog appeared, I heard the guards drop to the floor, coughing and wheezing.

I felt a light irritation in my airways, but nothing beyond that. Perks of my new body? I didn’t have time to wonder, since the captain was on us.

Lars was still standing, but he was as blind as I was. Still, he swung in what sounded like the correct direction. The expected clash of steel didn’t come though.

Just as I was starting to feign coughing, so as not to arouse suspicion, a dark shape landed in front of me.

In the blink of an eye, a hand gripped my collar as the attached body closed the distance.

It was almost mesmerizing, the grace with which the captain’s body basically flowed around me. My stunned mind was brought back to attention by the cold bite of a blade against my neck. Somehow, the attacker had managed to grapple me from behind, sword to my throat.

“No one move, or your lord loses his head!” The mist was already fading.

With a brilliant crash, the doors flew off their hinges, landing a few meters inside the room. I nearly went blind for the second time today.

The captain’s two allies had moved most of the way with him, standing among my fallen guards. All three of them stared down the entering group.

Lars was just kind of standing there, a grimace on his face as he glared at my captor. He was probably in reach if he took a single step, but that was more than enough time to move a blade a few fingers deep into my throat.

I shook my head a fraction in his direction. Carefully, so as not to slice myself open.

Upon seeing the situation inside, the second group of three stalled near the entrance.

Their armaments were a bit more diverse than my captors’.

Leading the three was a lanky, unremarkable man, a metal staff with cube-shaped weights at both ends resting on his shoulder. One of his companions was a woman and the other was hard to tell. The woman, left from my perspective, held a fancy crossbow not quite raised. On the right, the by far shortest member of the trio held what amounted to two fists full of knives. More blades of varying lengths were visible, strapped to their body under the cloak.

Uneasy silence settled over the hall, with everyone assessing everyone else. Neither of the trios looked very happy.

Priest Tristan broke the stand-off when he huffed his way into the room, stopping to catch his breath next to the dagger-aficionado.

“What’s going on? Are there more tr–”, he trailed off. “Who in the gods’ name are you? And why do you have Lord Steelheart hostage? Release him at once!”

For a physically not too talented young man, Tristan was pretty bold. Strong lungs too, though that was maybe to be expected from a priest.

“So this was your plan then, little lord? Stall time until your reinforcements can arrive? Well, it appears we have all the evidence we need then.” The captain’s gruff half-whisper into my ear was definitely audible to the rest of the room.

Tristan was turning red with righteous indignation. Before any words could escape his mouth though, he was interrupted by a calm voice that carried despite feeling quiet.

“It seems we might have found the agents you mentioned, priest. Though we are a little late, by all appearances.” The staff-wielding man gave his weapon a twirl and took a step forward. “Release the hostage and lay down your weapons. You may yet receive some leniency, criminals.”

Unlike the angry retort I expected from the captain, he burst out laughing. It was a deep, almost entirely mirthless thing, but it shook my body where I was in contact with his.

When I was starting to worry his hand might slip, he fortunately calmed down.

“Nice try!” he guffawed. “Yes, you have to make it all appear official. That’s the only way your little lord here can escape the pyre, after all. Let me guess – after you kill us and dump the bodies, you’ll ‘investigate’ the manor and find no evidence of wrongdoing. And then this whole matter gets swept under the rug, so as not to stain a noble family’s precious reputation.”

His grip tightened. “Think again. If you don’t follow your own instructions to disarm within the next minute, I’ll make sure you follow your demon-colluding lord to the abyss, impostors!”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

A small trickle of blood ran down my neck where his blade nicked me. I hastily focused to suppress my healing, but it wasn’t necessary. This wound resisted my healing. It also stung much worse than I expected, making me draw in a hissing breath of pain.

Shit! Is his blade special? I couldn’t get a good look at it due to the angle, but that definitely wasn’t normal behavior.

In the interest of not losing my neck to a potentially incurable wound, I slowly raised the one hand not pinned behind my back.

“Everyone, please calm down. I understand that tensions are running a little high, but there is no need for further violence. This is likely a big misunderstanding, so–”

“Shut it.” The captain’s grip on my other arm tightened, twisting the limb painfully. At least he didn’t cut any deeper.

Apart from the awkward angle though, I got the feeling that I was a match for the man’s strength. If it really came to it. Obviously not that helpful with his blade a fraction of a second away from opening my jugular, but it was a card. My deck was running rather low of those right now.

Undeterred by the threat, I continued. My arm started creaking a bit disturbingly as I did, but I powered through the pain.