Purge(5)

He made his way outside the gambling den and Oberon had his Principality deactivated already. Before his eyes was the clear night sky. The world outside was, in stark contrast to the entrance hall of the gambling den, peaceful and silent. All around him men and women in the Duchhy's military regalia moved purposefully, moving other men and women out of the establishment in cuffs. He had ordered the knights escorting the prisoners to hand over the bulk of the prisoners to Sirus' group and rejoin them once they were done. 

They took a little over ten minutes to regroup, take stock of what had happened and count the amount of casualties they had suffered. A raid team would arrive shortly at the scene to take care of retrieving wealth hidden within the gambling den. Alaric and his group then proceeded. He had no idea how Eldmund's progress was, but he had to hope for the best. He could only do his part.

Next on their list was the last major gambling den. Its lord was another powerful individual, but not nearly as smart or cunning. That would be their advantage. Alaric planned a quick and decisive blow for the man known as Decrov Altheid. He was a notorious underworld boss, who had amassed a fortune from illegal gambling, extortion, and smuggling. He was also a user of the Principality Origin, though his power was unreliable and unstable, it relied largely on matchups and his own readiness. This was when compared to Edith's principality, Sinister Veil, which to Alaric wasn't too much of a threat because of his mental fortress attribute but its effect was large and that would affect his troops. His principality was called Lucky Dice, and he used it to manipulate the odds of certain things occurring in his favour. But his luck was about to run out.

They moved swiftly and rapidly towards their target, soft footfalls echoing in alleyways as the contingent made its way silently through the night. Alaric and his group arrived, meeting the occasional undercover soldier from Sirus' group on the way to their target, passing a brief signal of acknowledgement when they did. They had reached the gambling den, which was located in a large and lavish building near the Eastern Wall. The building was guarded by several armed men, who were unaware of the impending attack.

Hidden within the shade offered by rooftops, Alaric gave out instructions through their shared communication devices. The troops listened intently as his voice rang out through their ears. "Listen well. I will enter first, surround the building, and block all escape paths. The puppet of this place will most likely be revelling in his own lust. I will take the lead and reach his quarters. Few will follow behind me to pass the message that I have successfully reached the quarters. We cannot use the communication devices because they have a scrambler. Once I reach his quarters, Oberon must manifest his Principality. Then we repeat what we did previously."

Silent nods affirmed his belief that he had been heard, and with a steady leap, it was time to advance. Alaric jumped from the rooftop and landed on the balcony of the building. He kicked the door open and entered the gambling den. He was greeted by the sight of tables, cards, dice, and money. He also saw the faces of the gamblers, who looked at him with shock and fear. He ignored them and made his way to the stairs, where he met two guards. He dispatched them with ease and continued his ascent. Behind him, screams and wails echoed into the corridor, his troops executing the men who were indulging themselves.

He reached the top floor, where he knew Decrov's quarters were. 

He smashed the door open and beheld Decrov in his decadence, surrounded by women and wine. The Sylvan Oath had already manifested in his hand, and an aetheric arrow flew through the air, aiming for the only part of him that was visible, his left shin.

A shrill scream erupted from one of the girls, as blood splashed onto her from Decrov's wound. But the wounded man did not panic. He flung the girls aside, and a large silver sabre materialized in his hand. He was already leaping towards Alaric. Perhaps the bow in Alaric's hand convinced him that closing the gap was a good idea. But Alaric only grinned and advanced towards the lustful drunkard. He parried a vertical slash with the shaft of his bow, and as he planted his feet to land a punch to his midsection, he slipped on what looked like a tray in the corner of his eye.

But he did not let the surprise incapacitate him. He was aware of what Decrov's powers could do, manipulate the probability of events that would occur. It was poetic that he would find himself the lord of a gambling den. He was also impressed by the man's courage, or perhaps foolhardiness when lunging at a man who had come to kill him while he was at leisure. He dodged a downward slash from the man's sabre by spinning on his hand mid-fall and delivered a kick on the swivel to the man's face. But Decrov blocked it. For a moment, Alaric saw the bloodlust in the man's eyes. But that did not deter him. He would finish this quickly. Decrov moved to cleave him in two, but a jolt of electricity from the aether arrow still lodged in his shin disrupted his control over his body. And Alaric acted swiftly. From his belt, a dagger in hand flew towards the man's throat. But it did not sink in. The man's skin was tough. 

'An attribute or ability!' Alaric thought, but that would not save the man from what was to come.

With quick thinking, he augmented himself further with lightning, his movements becoming even sharper as he pulled the half-lodged blade from the man's neck and plunged it into his open, hateful eye. A low growl escaped the man's lips before Alaric sent a large pulse of current that not even a man with skin as tough as he could walk off. With a jolt and a quiver, his lifeless body slumped to the ground.

Alaric's chest rose and fell with exertion, yet another skirmish where his hand-to-hand combat prowess, from military training in a life long gone proved invaluable.

He turned to the women, who were sobbing and silent. He told them to leave, and they obeyed, where they would run off to he did not know, it was too late anyway. They were stuck in there with Alaric and his troops. He then signalled to his followers, who had followed him to the room. They nodded and relayed the message to the rest of the group. Oberon, who was waiting outside the building, heard the message and activated his Principality Origin. He said the words "Origin Manifestation", and the world around the building changed.

They had been ensnared in a mosaic of barriers. Energy fluctuated from within Oberon, he had activated harmonic repulsion, an ability from his Principality Origin. Other than disrupting enemy formations and repelling allies, he had found an insidious application of the telekinetic-like power. It was to hold things in place. Oberon would be to die for in any military regime. Alaric was surprised the duke had handed Eldmund such a powerful individual to command. But then again, at the end of the day, they were all under the duke so it didn't matter much.

The underworld members who were still in the gambling den felt a sudden shift, and then they realized they were trapped. They attempted to break free, but it was futile. They were immobilized, akin to sculptures. They could only observe as Alaric and his group descended from the top floor and eliminated them one by one. They exhibited no mercy, no compassion. They were on a mission, and they would not cease until it was accomplished.

The purge was almost concluded. Only one more target remained. The ultimate confrontation was on the verge of commencing.