NOVEL WEB Chapter 2: City of bandits
The city of bandits stood before me, a labyrinth of filthy alleys and dilapidated buildings where a law reigned very different from that of the church. Here, only the strongest survived. The order was maintained not by justice, but by fear.
I was walking slowly through the dusty streets, crossing mercenaries with a hard look, murderers with an oppressive aura, and thieves ready to leap on the slightest weakness. Some diverted my eyes when they saw me, others stared at me. None dared to intervene on my way.
My destination was a remote district, an area where only the most dangerous mercenaries were staying. There was waiting for me a dreaded group throughout the kingdom: bone breakers.
They were not simple mercenaries. They were a legend. They wiped out an entire church army, massacring more than 4,000 holy soldiers. Their name alone was enough to shake the knights of Solaria.
And today, I had an appointment with their chef.
A wall worn out of time rose in front of me, covered with pell-mell-nailed search notice. Pacts yellowed by dust displayed the faces of the most sought after criminals in the kingdom, with astronomical prices offered by the Church of Solaria.
I scanned the names of the gaze:
Darek le Boucher - 2.8 billion gold coins
Vorsha the viper - 5.2 billion gold coins
Grimm the reaper - 9.6 billion gold coins
Ragnarok the ruthless - 16.4 billion gold coins (most sought after)
Ahron Kurogane - 13.9 billion gold coins (2nd place)
I shrugged a eyebrow when I saw my own name appear so high in the list. No wonder. The church wanted to erase to the memory of my existence.
But these figures did not mean anything for me. The reputations were faked. Those who dominated this ranking were simply the ones that the church feared the most.
I resumed my walk and entered the mark of bone breakers. The interior was a mixture of tavern and fortress, where noisy mercenaries drank, laughed and sharpened their blades.
Barely I had set out inside than a man approached. Large, muscular, but with an exaggerated attitude, he bombed the torso and barred my way.
"Hey, it's a reserved area, the friend. Do you think you can enter like that among bone breakers? Do you know where you are? "
I looked at him without wounding. His gaze wanted to be threatening, but his sufficient air and his behavior reminded me of a fair clown.
"I have an appointment with your chef," I replied flat tone.
The man frowned.
"Ah yeah? And who is our chief?"
I left a silence, then pronounced his name.
I crossed my arms and let out a sigh.
"Your chef is Vorsha viper. "
The man in front of me folded his eyes before letting go of a mocking laugh.
"Yeah, you are well informed ... but it changes nothing, foreign. You have to show respect here, and you don't have the mouth of a respectful guy."
Without warning, he took out a knife and pushed it into the chest.
Or at least he tried.
A soundtrack echoed in the room.
The knife was literally twisted in contact with my skin, as if the blade was made of melted wax.
A strange silence settled around us. The man stared his twisted weapon, incredulous, while the surrounding mercenaries were bursting with laughter.
"What? What?!"
I pushed a deep sigh, then seized her skull with a firm hand, catching her hair as we pick up a mop.
"Since you want to be useful ... You might as well do it to the end."
Without sweetness, I placed him on the ground and had him rubbed the crushed boards with his face. His nose scraped the wood while he fiddled like a fish out of the water.
"Wait ... Stop!" Stop, dirty in - hmmff!"
His supplications were suffocated by the filth accumulated on the ground. The other mercenaries, initially indignant, could not help laughing in front of the absurd scene.
The bottom door opened suddenly.
"What's going on here?"
A cold and sharp voice sounds.
I raised my head and fell on a slender silhouette, a smirk on her thin lips. Her reptilian eyes stared at me with a sincere surprise, followed by a fun of fun.
Vorsha La Viper, chief of bone breakers, laughed gently.
"Ahron ... it's been a long time, old man."
I finally released my grip on the poor guy who was lying to the ground, my face covered with dust and shame. Then, straightening up, I looked at Vorsha.
"It's been a long time, indeed."
Vorsha smiles in the corner before making a sign of the head.
"Come on, we're going to have a drink."
He guided me to his private space, a richly decorated room, contrasting with the outdoor chaos. Beautiful women with light outfits moved graciously, serving the guests with seasonal smiles. The smell of alcohol and perfume floated in the air.
We took place around a solid wood table, a mug of cold beer placed in front of me. Vorsha dies a sip before leaning comfortably.
"We have a problem, Ahron," he said, posing his mug. "The kingdom of Solaria is becoming more and more aggressive. Recently, they sent a Saint Knight by the name of Vincent to dismantle our network and eliminate our contacts."
I took a sip of beer, then answered in a dry and detached tone:
"He died."
Silence instantly fell into the room.
Vorsha stared at me, his impassive expression. Even the girls who danced at the bottom slowed down their movements, as if the air had just freezed.
Then, suddenly, a sneer escaped from Vorsha's throat. His smile widen slowly, and he laughed gently for himself.
"Hehehé ..."
His laughter went up in intensity until it became a frank and uncontrolled shine.
"Damn, Ahron ...!" He fists on the table, shoulders shaken by laughter. "You disembark after all this time and you swing me as if it were a trifle?! "
He shook his head, amused, before lifting his mug towards me.
"You are still so unpredictable. It deserves a toast. "
I raised my mug and carried it to my lips, but my mind derived elsewhere.
The simple mention of the holy knights was enough to boil my blood.
In the past, I had fought for them. I had carried their standard, followed their orders, believed in their principles. I was a holy knight too, an elite warrior from the Church of Solaria, intended to purify the world of evil.
Until the day I saw the truth.
They were not heroes. They were not protectors.
They were monsters.
Everything had changed during a mission.
We were supposed to "purify" a village suspected of hosting heretics. Whole families lived there, ordinary people who had not asked for anything. However, our orders were clear: total extermination.
I saw my comrades set fire to the houses, punching innocents on the pretext that they were "unclean". I saw children cry in front of their parents' corpses, before a Saint Knight made them without an ounce of hesitation.
And me ... I was supposed to do the same.
That day, my sword remained motionless.
But my decision cost me dearly.
Traitor. Heretic. Fallen.
The Church of Solaria chased me away, hunted down like a dog, and has erased my name with their ranks. I became a fugitive. A mercenary.
But if they had abandoned me ... I had no reason to hold back.
Since then, I have sworn to destroy these false gods and their corrupt servants.
Holy Knights do not deserve grace.