"Commander."
"What?"
"Aww come now. Can't you be a little warmer to me? We've known each other for so long."
The one complaining was his second in command. She was a beautiful woman with gray eyes, blonde hair, and an adorable set of wolf ears and tail. She was a strong warrior and a decent strategist. However, she was always throwing herself at him.
He was not unaware of her advances, nor was he unphased by them. But regardless, he was not interested. At least not right now.
"Kalliope."
"Eep." The wolf-girl yelped. He almost never used her name anymore, so its usage startled her.
"Settle yourself, or I'll tell your uncle that you've gone into heat." He threatened.
"Hey! You know we don't do that!" She yelled defiantly. "Don't be an ass, Lucius! Besides, he's your father. Why do you insist on..."
"Enough."
Lucius occasionally entertained these back-and-forth conversations with her to ensure her that he still thought of her as a friend and ally. It took him a long time to get there after what happened to him, but he eventually allowed himself to trust Kalliope.
Even though Kalivas spent over four years training him, he had issues with trusting people stronger than himself. If he couldn't beat their face in to hold them responsible, then they couldn't be trusted. Simple as that.
Seeing as he had already beat the shit out of Kalliope when they first met, and he's only gotten even stronger since then, she was one of those that could be trusted. This was not a hard and fast rule though, because he could also easily take any of his subordinates without issue, however beyond simply following orders, he would never actually trust them implicitly.
"Kalliope, are they in place?"
He had no intention of staying behind, so he focused completely on the sounds of incoming battle to ensure he would have his chance.
A little while later, the sound of the horn went off. Alvora had spotted the Eroan army and were charging their vanguard to hold them back while they reinforced the walls. However, Eroa would not make it to the walls. That wasn't part of the plan after all.
The man quickly left his position within one of the warehouses he was in charge of. He darted past a group of children playing kickball in the street and moved between buildings in an effort to get to the wall. Unfortunately, as he as about to start scaling, he was discovered.
It was day time, so his Dark Magic would not have worked to help conceal him.
"Halt! Step away from the wall!"
Horace did as he was commanded, at least for a long enough period of time to thing about his next steps. The guard that located him seemed to be alone. And he was a regular soldier, he had no Arts and no Magic Compatibility. Horace on the other hand, had Dagger Arts, Sword Arts, and Dark Magic all at his disposal.
"[Umbra: Dark...] hurgh!" as he was activating his spell to take the guard out he winced and grunted in reaction to a sudden pressure on his neck.
Instinctively he reached his hand to his neck and felt something sticking in it. He yanked it out and noticed that it was a dart and it was likely coated in poison.
"Well, shit..." he mumbled.
The source of the dart was blurry and unclear, but it appeared to be someone of small stature. They closed in on him, slowly, taking each step with purpose. Even though their gait seemed regal, Horace's rapidly worsening vision would not let him make out their clothes or facial features.
"Looks like we caught a rat..." a garbled voice stated flatly.
His hearing was going next as every one of his senses slowly dulled and faded away.
"Take him to the prisons. The general would speak with him."
"Urgh...fuck..." were the last words he uttered before he completely passed out from the narcotic injected into his system.