Book 1: Chapter 74: Breathing Amnesia and Sophie's Impatience

Book 1: Chapter 74: Breathing Amnesia and Sophie's Impatience

With a slow and heavy creak, the door to the dungeon-like room swung open.

A man clad head-to-toe in black clothing slowly walked in as he held a lantern in one hand and a set of keys in the other.

His face was covered up save for his eyes, both of which turned to glance at Lone in surprise. "Oh, you're finally awake."

"Good morning," Lone sarcastically said.

"You can even talk clearly. That's good. I was really worried you'd be all messed up and start having coughing fits like the dwarves," the man said.

"I assume you plan to sell me into slavery, Gregory?" Lone asked with a harsh and somewhat vicious tone.

"Ah, right. I haven't given you any orders yet, what with you being out like a dragon in winter and all. Never speak my name to anyone else ever again. That's an order," Gregory Milatod commanded as he skillfully moved his fingers through the keychain in his hand then unlocked Lone's cell.

"Dragons don't hibernate in winter, you retard. Haven't you ever read a book?" Lone mocked before spitting on the man's face very skillfully.

A sense of shock could be felt through Gregory's facemask but he quickly suppressed it, which Lone naturally didn't let go. "Pussy."

"Pardon?" There was anger in Gregory's voice. He was a notorious leader of a criminal organisation, yet here he was being insulted by a mere slave, of all things? The notion of such a thing upset him.

Lone scoffed. "If you're too scared to hit me since you'll damage your precious merch, then what are you if not a pussy? Fucking degenerate. Got the balls to kidnap me, an innocent blacksmith, and a teenaged girl, but no spine when it comes to putting me in line? You must be new to this whole criminal business, huh? Go get your boss before you somehow forget how to breathe."

Gregory was a patient man, but he had a bottom line like anyone else. He raised his hand and brought it down on Lone like thunder to metal.

A few teeth rolled out of Lone's mouth along with a glob of blood. Lone just smirked in response. "My Dad hits harder than you and he's fuckin' dead. Just order me to be a good little foxkin already and take me to meet my new master, for Christ's sake."

Lone could see the rage seething out of the man in front of him and he promptly jumped on those emotions. "Oh, wait, don't tell me you're so bloody useless you couldn't even find a buyer for a one-of-a-kind nine-tailed Golden Foxkin, could you? I thought incompetence had limits. You sure showed me."

Gregory inhaled sharply to calm himself then he grabbed Lone by the collar and pulled him in so that their faces were mere inches away from one another. "You won't live long with a tongue like that, but that's not my problem, it's Margrave Griffset's. That girl you were with though... now her, well, I might just make her my problem. I wouldn't mind inserting myself in her life and... a few other places."

"You're welcome to try from down in hell," Lone whispered.

He grit his teeth and headbutted Gregory as hard as he physically could, then suddenly, the hinges holding his arm chains to the wall disappeared as if by magic.

Lone then instantly whipped his arms, resulting in the loose chains coiling around Gregory's neck as if they had a life of their own.

"Keh! W-What the?! But the drugs... How?!" Gregory began choking violently as he struggled to get any air whatsoever into his lungs.

The shackles attached to Lone's legs snapped off and he took a step towards the masked man as he tightened the chains and then cracked his neck. "What can I say, I recover quickly."

He slowly started pulling the chains closer and closer to his wrist, forcing them to crush down onto Gregory's oesophagus. The man clawed and struggled with the metal links, but as each second passed, his resistance grew weaker and weaker...

"Would you look at that," Lone said maliciously. "I guess I'm a fuckin' prophet or something, 'cause feel free to right me if I'm wrong, but it seems to me, Gregory Milatod, that you've forgotten how to breathe. What. A. Fucking. Shame. Die, you scum."

Not a few moments later the life escaped the man eyes as his body sagged to the floor.

The adventurer kept a close watch on everyone as Bastion, George and Emma were led to a booth to use as their own for the evening.

'I should be in my bed right now, not wasting my time looking after some snobby kids... Damn it, why couldn't you have been a bit more sneaky, Mister Golden Foxkin?' Cella complained as she found a good wall to lean against.

Bastion grinned to Emma and said, "I always make a point of coming here at least once or twice whenever I'm in the capital. It's the perfect place to get drunk and enjoy yourself after a hard day's work, or, to celebrate like we're doing."

Emma smiled and asked, "Right, right, by the way, what are we even celebrating? I didn't expect George, of all people, to give an invitation to go out. I thought it was a date, of all things, hahaha."

"Ah... So that's why you look prettier than usual..." George muttered.

"Hmm? It's hard to hear you over the band," Emma said as she basically pushed her face up against George's.

He turned beat-red then shook his head. "Uh, um, I d-didn't say anything..."

"Oh." Emma seemed disappointed.

Bastion smirked arrogantly. "I'll tell you what the special occasion is after we've had something to drink. You there, slave! Get us some drinks and something to eat!"

The attractive girl with rabbit ears atop her head smiled politely and took their orders. Not long after they had been served, Bastion revealed why they were there. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a scroll.

"This is why we're celebrating," he said with a big grin on his face as he laid the parchment out over the table, displaying what was written on it.

"A contract of ownership over... the nine-tailed Golden Foxkin Lone Immortus? Did his master decide to sell him?" George asked dubiously. 'I can't see that girl ever giving up that man so easily...'

Emma looked at the contract a bit more thoroughly than George did. "Gregory Milatod? As in, the current head of the Milatod barony? How'd he get his hands on Lone?"

"You know this demi?" Bastion asked as he took a nice long swig of his wine.

Emma nodded excitedly. "Yeah! By the Primals, he was to die for. I've never seen anyone more handsome. I wonder how the baron managed to get Lone from that foreign noble? Won't that, like, really cripple her since she's blind and needs his help?"

'Does she prefer beautiful men over manly men?' George asked himself as he stroked his own jawline sheepishly.

"Indeed, that would bother us," a high-pitched and very angered voice said as the sound of armour moving rang throughout the booth.

Sophie unsheathed her swords and pointed one at Bastion's neck while the other she kept close at her side. "Where is Lone? Tell us if you wish to continue living."

Her bloodlust was so thick it could almost be seen.

"W-What's going on?" George was beyond perplexed and was starting to panic.

Emma, on the other hand, while somewhat scared, was actually pretty ecstatic. 'This is more exciting than anything I've done before! I wonder if she's serious? Is she actually going to try to kill Bastion? Can I save him with my magic? Do I want to? Ah, how thrilling!'

"C-Ceela!" Bastion yelled while he broke out into a cold sweat. "Convince this woman to stand down! I shan't be treated like this, even if she is a fellow noble!"

Needless to say, things were getting rather intense in the nightclub, and not in the usual sense.This chapter's initial release occurred on the n0vell--Bjjn site.