Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king-Chapter 63: In the city(5)

When a man is in front of a mad beast , he feels fear caused by the terror of having his life slips away and having no power to stop that. As he hears the paws of the animal thundering closer, the heart mimicks the beast's. And as the maws close on your head at that moment you feel an utter despair.Yet when you are not the one being mauled, but instead you are honored to witness the event happen to somebody else, the fear become interest, albeit tinged with terror and guilt at the sensations felt.The sight of seeing somebody close to death is an art in his own.

As Alpheo moved closer, the bustling street seemed to fade into a distant murmur, leaving only him and the strange old man locked in a silent dance of anticipation. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the thundering paws of a mad beast closing in. Fear crept through his veins, but it was a twisted fascination that held him captive, like a moth drawn to a flame.

The old man's eyes glinted with an unsettling gleam as he watched Alpheo's approach. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he clapped his hands together, the sound resonating like a distant storm rolling in. His voice, cracked and gravelly, rose in a haunting melody that seemed to pierce through the air like a dagger.

"Here steps forward the man, witness his daring might. Twice he laid with the lady black hue, And once he found his soul anew.The third shall night soon shall , and his ambitions to nothing and dust will morph "

After that he laughed ,a dry and brief luaghter . He no longer danced , there was no coordination his foot and arms moving and swinging like snakes.Like that of a man on fire, who feels his skin burning and slipping away .

Alpheo's gaze flicked to the old man, studying him with disbelief. He had never believed in magic or religion, but here stood a being that could only be described as such.He was no fool , and understood what the old men meant.He had died twice, the first one the time his heart stopped during an operation as a young boy, and then his second one before being unexplainable brought back to life. Was he blessed? Or Cursed for it ?

"Tell me about my future," Alpheo managed to say, his words coming out like parched gasps in the desert.

The old man extended his hand, revealing a silver coin. "A silver for a glimpse into your fate," he said, his voice hollow yet all-knowing. Alpheo handed over the coin and watched as the old man bit into it, a loud crack echoing in the air.Was it his teeth or the coin?

"Fate's not carved in stone, for this man you see,

For greatness lies between you and me. Desperation and madness, they may dwell,

But triumph shall be our tale to tell."

Then he stopped, the laughter ceased , the horrible singing , the dances, all stopped, he just looked in amazement . "A diamond for a silver coin?" he exclaimed , his voice thought stoic and neutral . "Snakes slither and fight in the dark, but for this man, fate has left its mark.''He stood silent squinting his eyes. Then he resumed laughing, it was not the merry cackle from before as much as it was a mocking laughter .Alpheo face moved inches closer to the old man , it came natural.

''Between rocks and hills the snakes move, blood and tears pass through their comings.What are you all fighting for ? 50 rameii the price for the tol-'' Before he could end the sentence , a blade moved in the air. The sword struck onto his neck,severing meat as it came crushing , stopping just in the middle of it.

The laughter of the old man did not cease, even when his mouth filled with blood, coming down between his teeth he continued laughing as he pointed at Alpheo.He was mocking him.Alpheo felt that and as he took out the sword , he just looked at the dying old men.

The crowd of before was nowhere to be seen.Even Alpheo's companions took a step back as their gaze fell on his back. No one said nothing, nor moved to stop their leader.They knew something the old man said made him snap .

''You should have kept that to yourself '' He whispered to his ears , so that it could be heard by nobody, as the old man fell to the ground.His laughter no more, though his smile remained there. A mocking and vane smile it was.

The wind rose through Alpheo's finger just like the sound of running echoed in the street, and then he felt something pushing him from behind

——-

The wind rustled through the leaves of the towering trees, their branches swaying in a gentle dance. The green pasture lay beaten and trampled by the heavy hooves of the beast that rode through it. Fear gnawed at his core, his heart pounding in his chest as he urged his horse forward. But he knew he couldn't turn back, not after the council had chosen Lord Andrux for this mission.

His mind raced with thoughts of what was to come, knowing he must choose his words carefully and act humble before his betters. He prayed to the gods for guidance, but the serene sky gave no answer, offering him no hope.

The rhythmic thud of hooves on the ground echoed in his ears, the beast's brown mane bobbing up and down with each stride. His own eyes were unfocused, resigned to whatever fate awaited him. It was such a beautiful day, and yet here he was, facing possible death at the hands of some spoiled queen's son.

He thought of all the things he still wanted to do and say, now wasted because some bitch wanted her offspring on the throne. And here he was, sent to deliver a pointless message to a second prince who refused to bend the knee to a child or worse yet, a woman. To what end?

To call him out and make demands on behalf of some delusional queen? He knew it was all for show, a futile attempt at avoiding war. And yet she would still find a way to shift blame onto them when they inevitably came for her head.

If he was to die today, then he at least hoped that the gods would have mercy and send her and her son to join him in the afterlife. Sooner rather than later, he hoped.

As the sight came into focus, his jaw dropped in awe. He had never seen a camp so vast and bustling before. The thick plumes of smoke from countless fires filled the sky, almost as dark as the fumes coming from the capital's notorious brothels. The walls surrounding the camp stretched for miles, unlike any city's boundaries he'd ever seen. There must have been over 15,000 soldiers within those walls, a display of power and allegiance by the nobles who funded such a massive operation. And to think, there was still another prince who could enter the fray.

In that moment, he knew peace was not an option; this was to be a total war. Nobles wouldn't just fight each other for land or wealth, they would capture and ransom one another before gathering around at night to drink and laugh about it all. Instead, they, the people, the poor , the low bastards would kill each other, families torn apart and raped , enslaved in the crossfire. And by the end of it all, their corpses would be unceremoniously thrown into a communal pit with their faces pointed towards the moon , as the men in power would toast at the victory or drink in sorrow for the loss. Such was the way of civil war, where brother would put cruelty into act against brother.

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