"SHIT!" Marcus cried out as he stumbled from the explosion. He looked around seeing two of the Unyeilding soldiers remaining. Looking at Oberon’s body he could see the cruel smile still on the man’s face even in death. Raising his sword he swung down decapitating him before throwing it out of the fortress. He needed proof of his victory.

"Follow me." Marcus ran down the steps quickly, some of the hostages still remained in their cells too afraid to move as a soldier looked at him with confused eyes. Looking at the hostages he frowned. "Force them to move if you have to, we have no time." Marcus threw the order out not caring for the hostage’s feelings anymore.

They could resent him for the rest of his life for what had to be done but he had no time. He could see the black smoke rising up the staircase and knew that they were running out of time. The men with him moved quickly, forcing the people up. Those who resisted were quickly knocked out and dragged along. Rushing down the steps, the firestorm ran across the halls. Marcus lifted his arm to block the blinding light and clicked his tongue.

"It’s blocked. Head up." Marcus didn’t hesitate and ran back up the steps to the top floor. His eyes scanned the whole room. He walked in a nervous circle trying to think, eventually finding some rope. Picking it up he cited the end around his sword Throwing it over the railing he secured the sword in between the railing and looked at his men.

They all understood what had to happen and nodded. "You three head down first with the hostages. I’ll secure the rope."

"Commander. You must leave first." The soldier snapped back looking at Marcus, Marcus could see it in his eyes. He was willing to stay behind to do the job. He smiled, taking his helmet off and throwing it to the side.

"If I don’t even secure an escape for my men, I am unfit to lead you all." He could see the man wanted to say something but Marcus raised his hand stopping him. "You have an order soldier. I could execute you for disobedience." The soldier dropped his head and bit his tongue only giving a weak nod.

"Understood." Marcus smiled and grabbed the second piece of rope. He tied the hostages to the man before slapping his back.

"Go now. We are running out of time." The soldier nodded and jumped over the railing. Carefully grabbing the rope he jumped off, with Marcus holding the rope as best as he could.

Every second he could feel it threatening to snape from the weight but he refused to believe it would happen. The two Unyeilding soldiers jumped over the ledge and watched. A minute passed before the second grabbed the rope and fell. Marcus looked back seeing the black smoke in the room with him and chuckled as the third grabbed the rope and scaled the wall.

With each noise, the rope filled him with dread, but Marcus stood strong. Looking over the top he saw the final soldier touch the ground. With a deep breath, he threw himself over and grabbed the rope.

He didn’t let himself have time to process his nerves and slowly walked down. He could hear the rope snapping each second he spent on it. He could feel it loosen and looking down he made a choice.

His grip loosened and he was in a free fall. Not registering the cries from below he felt the rope try to cut through his gauntlets. With a quick glance below, he grabbed the rope, his back nearly breaking from the sudden change. The wood above creaked threatening to break and Marcus let go again, letting himself fall.

It was only a few seconds and he grabbed it again. Marcus looked up and the world slowed, seeing the railing break. The tightness in his hand disappeared and he could feel himself plummeting to the earth. Twisting his body he raised his arm up by his head and watched the approaching ground through the gaps.

He saw his soldier run to get under him and Marcus could only smile at the sight. It felt like he fell for days, but as his body hit the man who tried to catch him, everything returned to normal. It was painful, his shoulder dislocated, and his body was cut. The cry of pain from the soldier underneath him was deafening, followed by coughs of blood covering his face.

Marcus looked down at him and gulped as the two Unyeilidng pulled him up. He clenched his teeth ignoring the pain, and looked down at his dying soldier. "You idiot." It was quiet but the soldier smiled through the pain the was experiencing, looking at him. Marcus could only force himself to tap his chest in a salute as the dying man tried to do the same.

"Help him back to the ship." Marcus gave the order before stumbling to Gage’s body. Taking a sword from the Unyielding, he slashed down, decapitating the second brother, and picking it up, walking back to the beach with the two heads.

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"Father." Horace gave a slight nod towards Esmond before taking a seat. Looking at the meal laid before him, he couldn’t help but be confused. Reaching into his pocket,t he pulled out his own fork and knife, ignoring the ones on the table.

It was subtle but Esmond smiled seeing it. "You still remember to carry your own utensils."

"It has become a force of habit after so long." Horace cut into the meat putting a piece into his mouth. It was a strange meal for anyone watching, lacking the usual warmth expected from a father and son. "Why have you done this? It’s not like us."

Esmond took a sip of water and nodded. "I heard you completed your work. Whilst it’s more involved than I would like, it’s acceptable."

"Is this a reward?" Horace asked casually, looking into his father’s snake-like eyes. He got a smile in response stunning him.

"We must plan for the future. Whilst His Majesty is close to having the situation with the church dealt with we need to look further."

"The Commonwealth," Horace said the name quietly, getting a nod from Esmond.

"You have been away but the plan to finally win public opinion has started. His Majesty predicted years before it would be ready yet Marcus pushed everything up quickly. With his new invention, His Majesty could afford to as well." Horace smiled at the news and ate a couple of bites of food.

"Are we not focusing on too many things Father? His Majesty will become overwhelmed at this rate, let alone the Empire."

"No," Esmond said sternly. "We must keep moving, never let our enemies rest, even if it kills us."

"What do you want." Horace put down his cutlery and leaned back, crossing his arms.

"What do you think we should do?" It was a test and Horace could see it instantly. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes and fell into thought.

"The Commonwealth is under a great amount of pressure right now. And if what you say is true about Marcus, then Snowid will return to the capital soon and resume control from his son. It could be a chance."

Esmond raised his eyebrow finally putting down his own cutlery, and leaning in to listen to his son. "Piast and the noble faction, Snowid and the royalist. Right now the balance leans in favor of the Royalist but what if we change that? Kill the bastard of the Dabrowski family."

Esmond smile grew upon hearing that as he waited patiently for his son to finish. "If the intel is true the two sides are at odds because of the whole thing. Kill the boy and have Snowid take the blame. Best case; we cause a rebellion."

"Dangerous but doable," Esmond said softly as he looked down at the food on his plate. "But killing the boy may be a hard task."

"We have no one who can get close?" Horace asked getting a shake of the head in response. "Piast might."

"To trust an outsider with such a task. I thought you knew better." Esmond squinted his eyes dangerously but Horace waved it off.

"Do we have any other way, Father?"

"No." Esmond could only sigh. "Fine. Find a way. If it’s not possible abort."

"Shall we tell His Majesty?"

Esmond tapped the table but eventually shook his head. "No. His Majesty does not need to know of this. He may agree but he does not like the blood of children on his hands. This is a job for us now." Esmond got up dropping a napkin over the remaining food on his plate.

"If that is what you wish for Father."

"Remember Horace. No matter the sacrifice." Horace chuckled hearing his words. The family motto was only that yet his father revered it and he always wondered why.