514: The Champion
“Hurry!!” Alexander heard shouting coming from outside his room. “There’s trouble on the lower levels!”
“What the hell is going on!?” Alexander recognized the voice of one of his guards, Bill.
“A bunch of prisoners were released!” Alexander heard a different voice as well as footsteps of people running past his room. A chaotic, unorganized situation.
“Where’s the captain!?”Th.ê most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m
“Wasn’t Grizwald at the gatehouse?”
“They say the Demon Fucker turned him into her slave!”
“Eh?” Alexander raised his head.
“There’s milk everywhere!”
“M-milk?”
“Everyone just drinks it and roll around in it while the prisoners beat them up!”
“No way!”
“I saw it with my own eyes! Charles, Phil, Sara: all of them on their knees with their asses up!”
Alexander and Bill both turned their heads and saw four guards further down the corridor.
“I’ll go get help!” one of the guards said and ran off.
“Wh-what? Pete! Come back you scum!” one of the three remaining guards shouted, furious at the blatant coward.
“Whatever! There’s three of us!” the other guard said and drew his sword.
“Yeah!” the third guard drew his sword and ran at Alexander, followed by his two buddies close behind. “Let Bill go or-GHRKEHK—”
Alexander punched the guard straight in the face with his free arm and sent him flying back, past the two guards. The guards froze in shock and looked back at their punched buddy. He laid motionless on the floor, his face flattened, bloody, unrecognizable.
“UAAAA!!!!” both guards ran away as fast as they could.
Alexander turned his attention to Bill.
“Sixth level! Sixth level! Sixth level!” Bill repeated over and over, pissing himself. “I don’t know which pit exactly! There are only four there!”
“The quickest way there?” Alexander asked.
“That way,” Bill pointed in the direction where his would-be rescuers ran. “Turn right and then straight, until you get to the stairs. You can go down all the way to the third level. P-please don’t kill meeeeEH!!”
Alexander threw Bill aside, sending him flying a dozen yards in the opposite direction from where he went.