The owners of the heavy footsteps arrived, and it was not anyone he knew from the Arena.Yet at the same time, that did not mean he didn"t know them; it just meant that they were not from the Arena.
4 beastmen of varying sizes emerged from the pa.s.sageway followed by their leader; a grey-haired or perhaps grey-furred werewolf - one that exuded an aura of strength.
"What do you want...?" He began the conversation; skin and senses tingling. His desire to test his mettle against highly qualified opponents rose as he could see their skilled movements and well-trained bodies.
The 4 beastmen, whether guards or soldiers, kept quiet and quickly surrounded him in the four cardinal directions while the werewolf stepped closer. He approached until he was within arms reach of Linges.
Then he smiled; a drawing back of the lips that bared the long canines and fangs of his wolfen head.
"I have long wished to meet the notorious demon of the Arenas, the stalker of the Halls of Death..."
The beastman boy smiled slightly as he sensed the hints of bloodl.u.s.t and desire to battle emanating from the grey-haired wolfman who was breathing deeply.
"The beastman of the Dark Cloaked humans... Linges."
"No; I should call you..." The beastman captain lowered his head slightly - then kneeled on the stone floor, dropping his guard to the trainee.
"Sandulf de Luca Lingeswaran; Prince of the Beastman tribes."
It was silent for awhile barring the dripping sound of leaky faucets. Then the beastman prince repeated his question.
"And...? What do you want...?"
The Wolfman showed an expression of surprise, obviously not expecting this reaction from the boy who was not that far off in terms of size and girth; if not height. Then the direct and forthright captain of the beastman infiltrating squad frowned, puzzled at his question.
"Don"t you want to know who we are first...?" He paused awhile; then when he realised that the boy truly did not give a d.a.m.n as to their ident.i.ties; his eyes grew cold and firey at the same time.
"Prince Linges! I am Osborne of the House of the Full Moon; captain and leader of the rescue squad. These--" He gestured around him at the beastmen encompa.s.sing Linges. "--Are my men."
"It should be clear that we are here to save you from servitude and enslavement to those lesser animals! Those traitorous, filthy, stinking and dirty livestock!" He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he spoke; clearly, he was not comfortable with the smells of the Arena and human body waste.
The smells that Linges felt made him feel like he was at home.
The boy smiled; not answering. Despite the difference in age, size, strength and power; he did not seem to fear offending Osborne.
The quiet atmosphere very quickly got to the werewolf"s nerves, and he spoke with irritation in his voice. "Prince! Your father, Lordking Ganon of the Scattered Tribes, has sent us to retrieve you and bring you back to be crowned as his heir! It is a great honour; one that every beastman or beastwoman would willingly die to have!"
He was growing annoyed as he could not for the life of him understand why Sandulf De Luca Lingeswaran was being so difficult! He was being offered a chance of a lifetime and salvation from slavery, yet he was scorning their rescue team...? Preposterous! An insult to the Honour of the House of the Full Moon and all the tribes across the entire planet!
The more he thought about it, the more furious he got. He grew so angry that he nearly stood up to teach the little half-breed pup just what it meant to respect his elders.
Only to be chilled by the boy"s next words.
"Then... Why are the 4 of you--" He looked around him to the beastmen guards. "--Not facing the entrances you are "guarding", but seem to be watching me...?"
A sharp aura lit his eyes as he calmly narrated the next few words. "As if you"re ready to take me down if I refuse to go..."
He lifted up his hands slowly and cracked his knuckles.
"So why don"t we have a go at it...?"
He returned the "smile" he had received; drawing back his lips to bare his teeth in aggression. A smouldering, provocative "smile" before finis.h.i.+ng his sentence.
"Old man..."
He went quiet.
A ma.s.sive wolf"s paw was right beside his head, quivering, claws fully out. It was close enough for him to feel the heat, to smell it... To feel the rough, coa.r.s.e hairs tickling his face. But he wasn"t looking at the claw.
The moment he finished the sentence, the werewolf had moved; eyes turned b.l.o.o.d.y red in fury. The much taller wolfman trembled; wrestling against his instincts to tear apart the disrespectful young whipper snapper in front of him and feast on his flesh. To rip out his throat and let the boy feel his own warm, thick blood flow from his veins in front of his eyes.
But he didn"t. It was not that he couldn"t; he wouldn"t. For the first time in his life, no, the second time apart from Lordking Ganon, that he felt fear.
The boy was looking Osborne straight in the eye, unblinking, unperturbed. As if daring him to strike.
His smile had not slipped one millimetre.
"C... Crazy! Completely CRAZY!!" Osborne roared out to the ceiling, echoing loudly through the hallways.
Then he laughed. Beginning as a deep, throaty growl. Then a full cackle, then uncontrollable laughter.
"Heh... Hehehe... HAHAHAHAHA! YOU"RE BOTH JUST CRAZY, CRAZY MONSTERS!!" He stopped laughing and caught his breath. Then he moved suddenly, turning into a blur, placing his claws at Linges" throat before delivering his final ultimatum.
"Boy...! Lordking Ganon has decreed that you come, and his word is law for every beastman under the heavens, and even those above! His love for every creature under the heavens overflows; you as his offspring should be grateful for your life that he has bestowed upon you!" The captain eyes shone with fanaticism, almost wors.h.i.+pping the beastman king he spoke of.
"I won"t ask again! Either come with us willingly..." He stared the boy in the eyes. "...Or come knocked out cold, dragged as the useless captured prey you are... Just like your filthy mother." He smirked tauntingly.
"...But I won"t guarantee you"ll be in one piece."
Linges smirked and gave his own final ultimatum.
"If that pathetic old man wants me to come..." He stepped forward until he was face-to-snout with Osborne, eliciting a narrowing of eyes from the great beastman captain.
"...Tell the dying old cur to come get me himself--" Then Linges tensed up his body; channelling his full strength.
"--So that I can rip him apart with my bare hands!"
He slammed a fist into the werewolf"s left jaw; triggering a dance of a frantic struggle; the beginning of the duel for superiority between the two battle-crazed, bloodthirsty freaks.
* * * * *
[On the rooftop of the Colosseum where the greatest guests were seated while duels were held]
Sarin raced along the rooftops, pursuing the vizier and the middle-aged man. Despite the speed, he was not out of breath in the slightest. It was just that he could not keep up with their incredible pace; a speed far above his.
Yet he knew he could not fall behind by too much, lest he be executed due to displeasing the regal man who seemed like he had no qualms killing at a whim.
He arrived just in time to see the middle-aged man seated at a wooden table placed in the centre of the Colosseum wall parapets. A table with 2 chairs; one that was completely out of place here on the battlements.
Sitting across from the middle-aged man was a slim white-haired man. The first thing Sarin noticed about him were his bright, colourful robes that looked to be well-cut; they would not hinder the man"s movements. The first thing Sarin noticed about him were his eyes - they were b.e.s.t.i.a.l, yellow-eyes. A predator"s eyes.
"Come, Duke Yousef. Drink tea; let us have a chat! There"s no need for barbarous behaviour now, is there...?" The white-haired man spoke in a welcoming voice, but he had no smile on his lips; only the slightest upturning of his lips in open disgust.
He gestured to a slim, dainty looking maid at his side who swiftly poured tea into the two cups already laid out on the table.
Duke Silva.n.u.s, the man with the disposition of a king who had brought Sarin to his knees, took a sip of the tea, savouring it - before spitting it out at the other man who was just about to bring the cup to his own lips.
"???" Invigilator Sarin felt like it was his imagination, for the b.e.s.t.i.a.l man did not move, but it seemed as if the water pa.s.sed right through him. He was not in the least bit wet.
"Ahh, Enforcer Garam. It is good to see you here. The tea was good!" The Duke laid down the cup onto the table, then continued. "Only..."
"Everything turns disgusting when in the presence of malodorous, stinking beastmen..."
He withdrew a sword which seemed to appear from thin air and beckoned to the seated beastman Grand Enforcer who was still sipping his tea, then said.
"Let me see if you sick dogs are as weak as they say..."
In one smooth movement, he stood up and jumped over the edge of the wall to descend to the Colosseum arena; quickly followed by the white-haired beastman.
The Vizier then smiled to the beastman"s maid and asked, "Well; shall we...?"
The maid bowed; a dangerous glint in her eyes as she spoke politely. "After you..."
They too leapt down from the parapets for a better battleground to pit their skills against one another, leaving the invigilator alone on the battlements, stunned and too fearful to follow.
He didn"t want to be anywhere close to those monsters.