Overlord And The Blue Citadel - Chapter 13

Pavel never saw himself as the embodiment of Justice, heck, he was a Sergeant in the Nine Colors, the Holy Kingdom’s Army. He wasn’t a Paladin, but he knew what they were and what made one. A sense of Justice, a true expression in that they held all their convictions towards.

He stood there beside Gustav in front of the mighty mouth of the Citadel, staring into the dark abyss which was ahead of them, lined in an eery blue glow.

“The first time I looked down this Corridor, I knew I never wanted to walk down it, let alone charge it with a whole platoon of men…” Gustav let out a sigh, “Or an army of them.”

“It takes forever to get to the other side,” Pavel scratched the back of his head as he looked at the Vice-Captain, his gaze tracing over his short brown hair. “My run lasted more than thirty minutes, and I hardly reached the other end until I was intercepted by… Him.”

“That… Seems rather hostile,” Gustav raised a brow at the father of the Squire who had originally gone missing. He was rather happy that Neia was alive, though it seemed Pavel didn’t like the man who saved or in this case spared her. “You should mark her lucky, Sergeant Pavel. If he didn’t see her as he did, he might have just eaten her… And neither of us would be alive right now.”

Pavel let his eyes rest on in the darkness of the tunnel-like corridor ahead, he tried ignoring the glowing glyphs which lined the walls. Even ignoring the fact he could see his breath ahead of him, he took in a deep breath of dry cold air.

“Your daughter is a very dutiful squire…”

“…My daughter has been trying her hardest not to offend him, but from what I saw, it’s near-impossible for her to do so.” Placing his thumb and index finger on his forehead, essentially covering his eyes with his palm and other fingers, he shook his head.

“Sounds like a lovesick puppy…” Gustav’s face twisted slightly as if trying to keep himself from laughing, which actually alleviated the stomach cramps he was having from the thoughts of his Captain rushing in without thinking.

“Or a Wolf lulling a fragile lamb into a false sense of security,” Pavel lowered his hand as he could hear a scuffle, though because of the fog he couldn’t identify from where exactly.

“Unhand me! You can’t do this to me! I just escah–!” A flat out punch could be heard, metal gauntlets against someone’s face, bringing silence to the shouting that was approaching the two of them.

Pavel turned his head to the side in order to see what was going on, but he was sure he knew who the voice belonged to. He was even more sure of who’s fist had collided with their face.

The sound of a man being dragged along through the frost-covered dirt, three Paladins seemed to manifest within the next fifteen feet of them. His wife wore a smug look on her face as she was walking beside the two paladins which were dragging along the young unconscious Paladin Oskar. It was the very boy who had tripped their daughter, took her book and ran… Leaving her for dead.

“You didn’t break anything, did you?” Pavel asked looking to his wife, his eyes dancing over the bloody edge of her gauntlet, and then to the man with the glass jaw who was silently groaning.

“No my love, my hand is just fine, his jaw though… Not so much,” the face of her helmet turned to look toward the entry to the Citadel. She was finally going to go in there.

“Just don’t punch the wolf in the snout, you won’t get your hand back,” Gustav warned with a partially joking tone, but he was entirely serious. He had no idea what kind of person this Fenrir was, but all he knew was that he was benevolent to someone who had been sacrificed in vain.

“I will keep that in mind, Vice-Captain,” inclining her head lightly with respect to her superior.

“Now that we’re all here, we should get moving… From what I recall, it’ll take a while to get to the labyrinth according to Neia’s notes,” Gustav twirled his hand loosely over his head, having them form up behind him as they began to head into the corridor.

The fellow Paladins didn’t even bother picking Oskar up, and rather allowed his legs to be dragged along the corridor floor. Luckily he wasn’t in his armor, but rather in fatigues which mostly included a paladin’s white and blue gambeson, mantle, black pants, and boots.

“This guy is getting heavy…”

“Well, he’s still groaning, so he’s probably alive.”
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“Think we could drag him by his feet? It’d be a lot easier…”

“Lady Baraja-dono, what do you think?” One of the Paladins looked to Pavel’s Wife, as she was their closest superior rather than the Vice-Captain who was several paces ahead.

“Hm… We can’t have him die from any traps that may be laying about here…” The woman sighed quietly as she looked at the man she had knocked out with her fist. “Despite how tempting it is to bust his skull open and let his brain soak in the sewage for what he has done…”

“Now that is a sense of Justice,” one of the Paladins chuckled, and the three all started tittering together. They were friends for a while, so it made sense they shared the same humor.

Neia’s mother looked ahead to Pavel and smiled lightly, seeing as he was walking beside her direct superior. Finding that her daughter was not only alive but had been betrayed was something she couldn’t stand. Yet he had done the impossible, something her oath forbade her from doing. She could only wish she had the power to charge in through here.

“Can you tell me more about this Fenrir, this… God?” Gustav had his eyes centered on the man known as Pavel, the person who made negotiating a possibility.

“I don’t know much, but I do know that the Gods have been at war, from the stories he had told Neia… The plane he supposedly came from, there were millions of Gods both weak and strong residing there. He’s no stranger to combat, be it commanding people or fighting alone and my weapon did no damage to his armor… My attack dissipated as if it never even occurred.”

“Wait,” Gustav blinked at what he had just said, “Your attack simply dissipated?”

“Into thin air…” Pavel kept his eyes open, not even looking at the Vice-Captain, constantly scanning the narrow horizon. “And he appeared just the same, out of nowhere from behind.”

“From… Behind?” Gustav and the Paladins all came to a brief stop before turning to glance over their shoulders. There was nothing there, but it didn’t seem as if Pavel was going to look either.

“Pavel-dono, He can move freely within the structure?” One of the Paladins hauling the unconscious prisoner along with them inquired curiously.

“I can only assume it is also outside the structure as well, if he is a God, it is likely he has access to teleportation.” Pavel stuck his pinky into his ear and twisted it around slightly before flicking the wax off upon extraction. “Which means if he truly wanted to, he could drop a strike force directly in the heart of the capital… Maybe even level it on his own.”

“To have such power, could he be above the Evil Deities by those terms?”

“There is a great possibility as he has far more followers under his command,” Pavel stroked his chin in thought as they continued down the corridor. Wondering, just wondering, how they were going to negotiate with a man who could just take what he wanted. Though the main thing he worried about, was his daughter.

Gustav scratched the side of his head as he was looking back towards Oskar, who was still limply being dragged along behind them. “What do you think he’ll do to Oskar, anyway? Think he’ll execute him?”

“Hm… Or have Neia exact her own Justice upon him, whatever that may be.” Pavel didn’t know what Fenrir would possibly do with Oskar, but he knew it would grab his attention.

They kept their conversations at a low volume, keeping watch around themselves. While Oskar squirmed and groaned from the pain, he didn’t seem all that ready to resist much, even as he was waking up.

It was never really clear if he would appear himself, or a minion of his would appear. Or it could’ve all been a trap to bring more people and send them to their deaths. Fenrir had originally been intent on keeping him here in the tower and slaughtering everyone, aside from Neia’s mother and Pavel himself.

Hearing a sudden shuffle, a strange movement from above, the Paladins suddenly placed their hands on their hilts as they were ready to draw. “What was that?!”

Pavel and Gustav both stopped to look at the Paladins before glancing upward towards the ceiling. Crawling along the flat surface above, were several dozen furred creatures with golden eyes that looked similar to wolves about six feet in length. “His brood possibly?”

“Now… That is just… Rude…” A foreign voice echoed down the corridor from up ahead, though when they turned to look, there was no one and nothing there. That was when a magical circle would spread out along the floor at their feet. It was a bright baby blue and consisted of a teleportation inscription, but it activated too quickly for them to identify.

In a flash of light, they instantly found themselves standing upon a platform considerably made of Adamantite or something even stronger. It was black and had a metallic sheen to it. When they glanced towards what could only be considered the center of the room, they found a massive playing board. They had been teleported above what appeared to be a massive chess game.

Hovering over the center of the board were two individuals, a girl in black and white, matching the checkered board below, and another dressed in crimson red. Below them on the board were tens of Draugr, quick and agile undead with glowing blue eyes and an affinity for the cold.

It was as if their very presence brought down the temperature of the room! That was when they all had the epiphany, the eyes they had seen in the fog… These creatures were what they had seen watching them down by the entrance!

Without another word, they watched as arrows of magic energy slammed into one of the Draugr’s chests, causing it to stumble before letting out a ghastly battle cry. Yet it didn’t attack the aggressor and instead started running around the board.

An arrow passed by the creature’s head.

Pavel’s gaze followed the trajectory’s origin and narrowed his gaze on Neia, who was using what appeared to be a magic bow. The particular weapon was stronger than his as she was using it, the item wreaked of magical energies.

Her attire had changed from hours ago, her hair too. She was wearing a thick white quilt stitched full-length Gambeson with light blue trims over her tunic, with a wolf eared hood that had a built-in V-shaped metal visor that would cover her eyes when pulled up. It was sleeveless and was held shut by four buckled belts, its skirting reached down to the sides of her knees as the front and back of the defensive-padded jacket was forked. She even wore a pair of long black archer’s gloves that had the thumb and pinky exposed. It appeared he was having her train? That was when his eyes narrowed

His gaze drifted to the throne which stood behind her as she was moving about the west side of the unique Amphitheater they found themselves in.

“Uh…” Pavel spotted Fenrir leaning back in the decorated throne with gilded armrests and silver trimmings. A hairbrush rested on the arm of the seat, and in his hand seemed to be a powerful jeweled relic which he was sipping from. The moment he swallowed the liquid, he watched as Fenrir seemed to glow as if he had been blessed by something holy.

Gustav and the Paladins were watching as Neia was laying down fire upon the strange undead below. “What kind of death are they? They’re armed with axes and swords… A strange sense of intelligence too.”

“Reminds me of Skeleton Warriors, but these things… It’s almost as if they can talk to one another.” One of the other Paladins pointed out after hearing Gustav speak.

“If those things are in the fog, and those arrows aren’t doing damage unless they hit the eyes, our forces will have a very hard time taking them out.” Pavel had turned his attention to the targets as well.

“Something smells familiar…” Fenrir’s voice echoed throughout the stadium, grabbing the rest of the Paladin’s attention. Oskar immediately waking up in the process as a chill ran down his spine.

Neia immediately stopped when she heard Fenrir’s voice and peered over towards the individuals that had appeared. “Eh?” Her eyes fixed onto her mother and father immediately, then over towards Gustav who was the first to begin walking along the edge towards the Throne. The other Paladins were following closely behind as her father and mother kept close to her superior.

“No…” Oskar began to murmur, his voice slowly increasing in volume the closer they got to the throne, “NO! Don’t bring me any closer to that monster! Neia! Tell them I didn’t do anything!”

Neia’s gaze drifted over to the man who was being dragged along and made a blank almost unfeeling expression showing her lack of sympathy. If anything, it was apparent that her hands were balling into tightly knit fists. Her eyes were almost threatening his very life with that gaze alone. It was the person who had pushed her down, the man who had betrayed her for his own selfishness. They would’ve all made it out if it weren’t for him, but instead, she was left behind, left for dead.

“Say something!” Oskar begged.

Fenrir raised from his throne and onto his feet as he too wore a stern look on his face. He was about ready to quite literally kill the man who was now forced to stand on his knees. “You committed an act of attempted murder, an act that was inherently dangerous for Neia. Why would she protect you? Speak for you. Historically where I come from, treason such as this comes with the death sentence.” His eyes veered to Neia who was waiting, her bow in hand with her back to the board below.

The Draugr seemed to all spread out around the board, as if she was now being ignored by them.

“However I am not part of your Order, and while I can punish you for trespassing upon my grounds and attempted physical assault, your crime against Neia is far greater.” Fenrir’s gaze now rested upon Gustav who was standing before him with Pavel and his wife.

“Ah, Pavel-san and Baraja-san, it is a pleasure to meet you at last.” Fenrir inclined his head slightly as if greeting a friend’s parents, but his gaze was almost visibly vacant to them, it seemed it had only been a mere formality. It meant nothing. Seconds later, Fenrir let his eyes flicker back on over to Gustav.

“I am Gustav Montagns, Vice-Captain of the Paladin Order, Second to the Captain and Grand Master. It is an honor to meet you…” He used a polite and honorable tone, “We’ve brought Oskar here in hopes of negotiating with you to ensure peace between us due to your sudden appearance so close to our state.”

Fenrir’s sights studied over the Vice-Captain, keeping the jewel crested chalice in his hand, his eyes drifted over to Neia who started to hesitantly walk over to join him. “Drink,” he let his hand drop slightly as she sheathed her sleek ranged weapon.

With both hands, Neia embraced the Holy Grail in her fingers before she lifted it, tilting it towards her lips and beginning to drink it as ordered. As she did so, her sweat and perspiration seemed to fade away, completely revitalizing her.

The Paladins, including her father, as well as the Vice-Captain were astounded into silence by the sight.

“Thank you, Fenrir-sama,” Neia spoke in a refreshed manner, a smile renewing across her lips, as she then lowered the item from her lips and reached out her hands in order to return it.

Retrieving it with one hand, he placed the World Item into his inventory, causing it to vanish into thin air in front of their audience. “As a Paladin, it is your Justice that must be expressed here. If the Order wants to negotiate with me, then you must sentence this… Offender as you see fit.”

Fenrir returned to his throne and sat there, crossing his ankle over the corresponding knee while his arms remained at rest. He was curious about how she would react if she would kill the man or spare him. All the same, if she spared him, his ultimate fate would be left up to the Paladin Order and their policies for traitors amongst their ranks.

“You’re having a Squire… Sentence me? You can’t be serious!” The Paladin known as Oskar displayed arrogance before someone who was proclaimed a God. There was no respect in his tone of voice.

“You’re not helping yourself…” Pavel narrowed his eyes on the young man.

Fenrir just creased his brows listening intently as Neia calmly approached Oskar.

“Who has the criminal eyes now…?” Neia uttered with a simper as she towered over the man who was kept on his knees with a slack jaw due to being struck earlier. “You said my sacrifice was a noble one,” she gasped at the collar his tunic, the three armored fingers of the archery gloves scraping his sternum. “What will yours be? Atonement for what you’ve done? You’ve disgraced what it means to be a Paladin, you discarded me thinking I would die… Thinking that your vain attempt to survive would go unnoticed!” Though she was smiling, tears were welling up in the corners of her eyes. “I worked hard for so long, did everything on my own, you tried to take that from me…”

Oskar said nothing, glaring up at her like a pitbull without teeth.

“Gustav-dono…” Her eyes shifted to the Vice-Captain.

Her superior looked her over just once, seeing the smile and tears streaking down her cheeks, the balled-up fist at her side. “As per the conditions for starting this negotiation, your actions here will not be held against you. Oskar has been disavowed by our Order, do as you see fit.”

Fenrir intertwined his fingers, watching the short blonde hover over the man. “Your strength is Justice here,” were the only words that flowed from his lips, “sentencing this cur is up to you.”

“What?” Oskar’s scowl melted into obscurity as he turned to look at his former commander. “Y-you can’t be serious! You’re not seriously letting this happen, are you?” His pride and courage were now withdrawn, he couldn’t afford to be ignorant any longer. Turning his head to face her again, “Please!”

“You gave me no mercy… Why should I grant you what you didn’t deliver unto me?” Her armored leather boot found a new home as it clashed between his legs, smashing his groin not once, but twice.

Oskar let out a high pitched squeal before doubling over, she then kicked him in the chest, forcing him onto his back. She then proceeded to drag him towards the edge of the platform…

The Draugr seemed to renew their interests and began to gradually advance toward the outer wall as his torso was suspended over the ledge.

“P-please… Don’t…” His head hung back, as his collar began to tear from his own weight, as he was looking at the dead coming. Fixated on their Viking styled hatchets and broadswords in hand, he tried to plea, “I don’t want to die.”

“You should have thought of that before trying to kill me… Your death will be a noble sacrifice in the name of Justice,” Neia opened her hand, letting the man tumble over the side and onto the board below. Hearing the thud, she nearly winced before peering over and watching the man begin to crawl towards one of the gated entrances to the arena floor.

Everyone seemed to watch as the Draugr started to sprint towards Oskar as he cried out, yet they did nothing but observe.

Forcing himself to stand, Oskar drew his sword from its scabbard which had been left at his hip. A pained expression was clearly seen across his face. “Aaaaaaaaah! I won’t let you kill me!” Just as the first Draugr came running at him, he swung the weapon, but rather than Peirce the undead it reverberated off of the hatchet which intercepted it. “What!?” Distracted, a charging Draugr buried its broadsword into his chest, causing him to gasp out for air and drop his weapon.

The next thing they’d see is a number of weapon-wielding undead, bringing down their hatches upon the man. They weren’t aiming for kills either, they sunk their blunt armaments into his flesh, avoiding all of the vitals… It was torture for over several minutes, his gurgling screams could be heard as blood was filling his lungs.

Neia had turned on her booted heel and walked away from the edge, before taking her place standing beside the throne on which Fenrir was seated upon.