Divine Beast Ascension

593 I’ll Head Back First

Off to the side, Lambier was chugging an elixir. A clash of various emotions swirled through Lambier’s mind.

Part of Lambier loved seeing the pain and anguish expressed on Dallad’s face. And part of Lambier was furious with himself, angry that he was too weak to finish off the assassin himself.

“You needed his blood, yes?”

That question caught Lambier off guard. Looking back at the gorilla, Lambier said. “Yes. He’s the one that killed my father and brother.”

“Then he’s all yours!” Hurdo bellowed, drumming on his chest.

The gorilla only stepped to the side rather than back away. Hurdo wouldn’t give the trapped assassin a single free breath, let alone any chance to escape. His earth essence continued to fill the ground compacted around the assassin in order to sense if Dallad could somehow get out or make a move.

Nodding slowly, Lambier accepted the circumstances and stepped toward Dallad. Unadulterated ire swelled from Lambier’s eyes as he pointed the scimitar down at the assassin’s face.

“Don’t you want to hear his last words–”

“No.” Lambier’s immediate, dry answer cut the desperate assassin off. “I have no wish to hear anything more about my family from your tarnished mouth… Today, Dallad, you will die. I only wish I had the power to torture you more myself. But I have neither the ability nor the time for that–”

.....

ZZZRRCH! Frrrip! Thump…

Lightning flew out of the assassin’s eyes, streaking up the scimitar and down Lambier’s arm. It hurt. But Lambier’s icy stare never flinched.

Lambier’s other hand created a wind blade so thin it looked like a wisp of green energy. Seeing it from the corner of your eye would make you blink and question your vision. Because the moment it took shape, that wisp-like wind dashed through the air with blinding speed, traveling only a single krin before disappearing not even a split second later.

All lighting died down. The assassin’s raging, desperate face grew stiff. Dallad’s head slid off his neck and topple to the ground encompassing his buried body.

Cough, cough…

Lambier held back a cough as best he could. But the taste of blood on his tongue and the smell of burnt skin in his nostrils didn’t go away.

Slap! “Well done!”

Hit in the back, Lambier tripped over the stub of a neck sprouting from the ground. “Hey! Be careful there. I’m pretty tired… Thanks.”

Quieting his own laughter, Hurdo smiled back at the man. “He was my prey and I caught him. Besides, no offense, Lam, he was too weak for me to get excited.”

“Too weak?” Lambier couldn’t help but laugh, both at the joke and his own weakness.

“Maybe if he hadn’t gotten desperate with all of you around, it would’ve been different,” Hurdo commented while turning back toward the distant camp. “But it was a great warm-up for the war! I’ll give the prey that much credit.”

As the gorilla marched back to camp, Lambier took in a long breath. “... Sarpo. What happened to the other assassin boss?”

“Hurman disarmed him and then killed him after he was cornered by me and Marsel,” Sarpo gave a succinct, cut-and-dry answer.

Taken aback, Lambier blinked and whistled at the statement. “Wow… it was that easy for the old man?”

Chuckling, Sarpo shrugged, “I thought you were a little older, if I remember correctly. But yes. Hurman slew the assassin boss without armor, without graded weapons, and with a single, common shortsword, all without the assassin boss being able to touch the “old man” even once.”

Lambier’s joking smile fell from his face. “... Are we really that weak, Mar and I?”

Sarpo didn’t reply. The jaguar bounded toward the camp to share the news of Dallad’s demise.

While Lambier stood there and sulked for a moment, Tranton stepped closer. “You’re not the only weak one. I think I’m in that category as well.”

Lambier looked at the territory leader and put his fake smile back on. “Maybe. To think someone with ‘wasted potential’ ascended and surpassed us out of the purple1. It’s really… frustrating.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Tranton said. “... But I guess that’s why we’re siding with Iron in the first place. For more security. And to get stronger… I’ll head back first.”

Tranton walked off, waving without turning back.

A few seconds passed. Then a minute…

Finally, alone, Lambier dropped to his knees. His eyes flinched. Back and forth, flashes of deep-seated rage and glimpses of long-withstanding guilt battled to see which emotion would come out on top in Lambier’s mind.

The trapped corpse was to Lambier’s side, an arm’s reach away. Yet Lambier didn’t bother sparing it a glance.

“... We’re still weak… We can’t protect them on our own? Why not?? …” mumbling through tears of anger and sadness, Lambier questioned himself. “We had them! We had them in our grasp… but we couldn’t do it. We couldn’t finish them off like we wanted…

“Dad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t avenge you with the same torment they forced you through… Little Brother… I’m so sorry. I couldn’t avenge the lives of your wife and son the way I had promised…

“But…” Lambier’s breathing started to grow steady again. “But I promise to never let that happen to anyone else. I refuse to let the family go through that again. No matter what I have to do. No matter who I have to serve… Mar and I… and our allies will purge all of Prodson to eradicate every evidence of Blood Moon’s existence from history.”

Lambier took a moment to inhale and exhale, again and again. When his mind was calm and his tears stopped running, Lambier stored the corpse. Getting up to his feet, Lambier let out one last long, drawn-out breath.

“... If you can’t beat them, join someone else who can…”

Lambier wasn’t in a hurry. He already knew what had happened in Marsel’s fight, so Lambier didn’t need to rush back for intel. So Lambier strolled back to the camp while taking in his surroundings to get his mind off things.

It was a scenic landscape but nothing new to the former mercenary. The only thing that warranted special attention was finding the start of Hurdo’s tunnel. Lambier laughed at the sight of it, noting how large the underground path had to be just for the broad-shouldered gorilla to traverse it. Yet, with all of Hurdo’s size, that huge, three-krin by three-krin tunnel had managed to let the huge beast catch four perennials by surprise.

Eventually, the camp came into view. Lambier sighed and kept walking, already imagining what some of the others might say to him.

The surviving elder mercenaries were celebrating as if they had just survived a massacre. They tried to lift the drake up and toss him through the air in jubilation, but the three uninjured mercenaries were too tired to go through with it.

Oli just laughed and waved to the mercenaries, turning toward Hurdo to congratulate him on catching his prey.

Everyone else in the task force was off in their own groups. Marsel was with his wife and sister. The Mottz Patriarch was renewing his fealty to Leader Tranton, insistently so. And Hurman was talking with the attentive Sarpo and the lazy Hurdo.

As Lambier drew closer, Hurman was the first to approach him. “I heard what happened. Congratulations on improving your swordsmanship. You’ve come a long way for only two years of training.”

Nodding slightly, Lambier replied, “Thank you. You and your sons have taught me well… And thank you for helping Marsel.”

“There’s no need to thank me or Hurdo for that,” Hurman stated. “We were just doing our jobs. And they happened to coalign with a long-standing wish of yours. Consider it a coincidence.”

Giving Lambier a nod and a pat on the shoulder, Hurman then turned to leave.

“Hurman.”

The white-haired swordsman looked back at Lambier. “... Yes?”

Lambier swallowed the hesitation in his throat, saying, “... I agree. I wholeheartedly agree.”

“Agree with what?” Hurman asked.

“I agree to the terms presented by Iron Territory. I, Lambier Fenzar, co-founder of Flaming Gale Guild, accept all terms of Iron Territory’s offer and willingly submit our guild to the management of Iron Territory and the Iron-body Gorilla Clan.” Taking in a sharp breath, Lambier continued, “As according to the terms of Iron Territory’s offer, I accept and uphold Jonon Practor as a third co-founder of Flaming Gale Guild, upon conquering Prodson City and Prodson Territory, along with the reestablishing of Flaming Gale Guild under Iron Territory’s direct management.”

Hurman cracked a smile as a chuckle escaped his lips. “Please, excuse me. I have no intention to belittle your acceptance or your resolve and dignity as a guild founder. I’m only startled that Marsel wasn’t wrong at all.”

Confused, Lambier asked, “What do you mean?”

“He means, I told him that you would come back and pledge fealty before dawn,” Marsel laughed while sauntering over.

Recognizing that tone of laughter, Lambier put on a grin and shook his head. “Oh yeah? Coming from the man who did it before I could even get back, that’s rich.”

Shrugging and scratching his head, Marsel’s laugh turned into a sly chuckle, “Guilty…”