Breakout

Lucas could not keep his mouth from hanging at the sight of Rowan casually unlocking his cell.

It did not take long for Rowan to notice him staring at him in disbelief.

"Something wrong?" Rowan raised an eyebrow.

"Explain." Luke demanded him.

"The guy opposite to me lured him in." Rowan opened the rusted iron bars with a earsplitting screetch. "I strangled him with the fungus blanket."

"You make it sound so easy..." Lucas sighed as he walked out of his cell.

The other prisoners were soon freed from their cells and gathered in the hall, as if awaitng what to do next.

"You guys want to fight the war?" Rowan asked the others.

"No." They collectively said.

Rowan looked at Lucas.

"What?" Lucas raised a brow.

Lucas had seen those eyes before. Back when they encountered a bandit camp in one of their childhood excursions.

"You have to be joking..." Lucas tried to laugh.

Rowan's eyes had a glint of mischief in them. It seemed he was pretty serious.

Lucas gazed upon the other prisoners with them which had eyes of anticipation.

"Rowan..." Lucas sighed. "You're crazy."

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sir Koelhar von Reveris walked along the well lit halls of Dwenson stronghold, his expensive fur cloak waving behind him like a flag.

The Warden of Dwenson keep had been continuously reporting to him about the state of the prisoners as they walked down the alabaster stone walls draped with the finest golden tapestry and the most expensive gold plated knight statues adorned the base of every pillar.

The crystal chandeliers that hung from the high ceiling lit the room as if it was day time.

However, none of this was of any interest to the senior Knight.

Sir Koelhar could not hear or arrange any significant thought process in his mind other than the figure of the two young adults he encountered at the border town.

The dark haired youth that dodged his Flame Lance while wearing rackets, the curly haired man that managed to throw him, a full-fledged senior knight with magic, to the floor.

Sir Koelhar could not suppress his excitement. Those lads were not trained in the slightest yet they managed to outclass a formally trained soldier of the Wyndfall kingdom. If things went well, he could train them properly and put a leash on them, making them his subordinates and they would allow him to climb the ranks to the upper echelons.

"As for the matter of the matter for the patrol sent by the capital, Sir Ulfman has already..."

"What's the situation with the recently added 'volunteers'? Especially the ones from the southeastern border?" Sir Koelhar cut off Sir Raganoff, the Warden of Dwenson stronghold.

"Uh, forgive me Sir. I have yet to personally check on their situation." Sir Raganoff slightly bowed. "However, from the complaints of my subordinates, the one with dark hair has not only managed to break the noses the three men I assigned for the transfer but also snap one of their arms before they could lock him in his cell.."

Sir Koelhar's brows rose in surprise and stopped walking to turn around and face the Warden.

"If I remember correctly, we tied him up with chains and I told you to assign six men to transfer him?"

"Yes, sir." Sir Raganoff answered. "He had apparently kicked them in the face."

"And used his legs to break their arms?" Sir Koelhar could not help but clarify.

"Yes sir."

Sir Koelhar could not help snicker in disbelief.

In truth, the dark haired lad could not have been captured alive if he had not been distracted by his friend whilst fighting three armed soldiers.

'Speaking of which...' Sir Koelhar thought.

"What about the other one?" He asked.

"Based on the reports, he has been transferred to his cell without a problem since he was unconcious." Sir Raganoff politely replied.

"Very good." Sir Koelhar nodded in satisfaction. "You are dismissed."

'I shall then tell the Duke that I would like to take those two as slave-subordinates as a reward for successfully conscripting the desired amount of volunteers.' He thought to himself.

Sir Koelhar then walked the rest of the hall towards the Duke's study.

He ascended the half circle stairs and paused in front of the gigantic, 13 feet tall double doors.

The double door was made of two slabs of 300 year old Riftwood chopped down from the Undersund forests underneath the burning sands of the Scorched Desert, polished and processed by dwarven techniques, guilded and engraved with Glacialite ore extracted fom the far northern wastelands. Studded with 200 gems stolen from the Thurian Empire at the eastern edge of the continent.

This door alone was worth more than the entire stronghold and was the perfect display of the wealth of the dukedom.

Koelhar took a deep breath as he marveled at the light blue door that was designed with glowing metal accents and the jewels that were glistening brighter than a starless night.

Sir Koelhar finally pushed the door open.

"Sir Koelhar von Reveris greets his Lordship!" Sir Koelhar stepped into the study and knelt to his knee.

The Duke put down the paper he was working on and turned his head towards Koelhar and nodded.

"Senior Knight Koelhar, you may rise." The nearest personal knight of House Claris boomed with a loud voice.

"Thank you, your highness!" Sir Koelhar quickly stood up and saluted, placing his clenched right hand in front of his left shoulder. "I have come to report that the conscription of men has managed to reach the desired number of volunteers for the war effort, Sir!"

The Duke rose up from his chair without a word and stood in front of the large tapestry of the banner of House Claris. He silently gazed at the sun shaped insignia with two 7 leafed golden laurels at the sides.

"Tell me, Koelhar." The duke finally spoke, still gazing at the banner. "How many men had volunteered."

Sir Koelhar immediately replied with a loud voice.

"Four thousand and five hundred seventy three, your Lordship." Sir Koelhar smiled with pride.

The Duke was silent for a while, simply staring at the banner for a few more minutes in deep thought.

"Sir Koelhar..." The Duke turned around and stared at Koelhar with his deep, glacial blue eyes. "Tell me. How many actually chose to volunteer?"

Koelhar almost choked on the words of the Duke.

His head hung low in response to this and solemnly replied.

"Fifty three chose to volunteer, Sir..."

The Duke closed his eyes and asked another question.

"How many 'Heretics' were killed?"

Koelhar swallowed the huge lump of anxiety in his throat.

"About two thousand or so my Lord..." Koelhar trailed off.

The Duke sighed, walking towards the desk and retrieving a piece of paper.

"Of the 51,000 residents of my domain, you only managed to gather 4,500 during the months of Ice at the expense of killing 2,000 innocents for no good reason?" The Duke calmly asked.

"But my Lord!" Sir Koelhar tried to reason. "The Church demands that by all means possi-"

"Do you take me for a fool, Sir Knight? I know what the Church demands, Koelhar." The Duke stared at him coldly. "I am not that stupid."

"FORGIVE ME MY LORD!" Koelhar dropped down to both of his knees and bowed his head. "I DO NOT DARE!"

Koelhar shivered at the thought of being denounced by one of the Six Grand Dukes. He could not bear to bring shame upon the House of Reveris his entire life. Being a denounced Knight practically meant he was even less that a stupid Peasant and his family would be stripped off of their riches and power.

Koelhar was still deep in thought when a hand gently touched his shoulder.

"Calm down, Koelhar." The Duke softly spoke to him. "I do not blame you for their deaths."

"M-My Lord?" Sir Koelhar was surprised at the Duke's display of emotion.

"We have no choice to obey the Church and his majesty the King." The Duke walked back to his desk. "You have done what was necessary to satisfy both parties, do you have any rewards you would like to demand for your success?"

Koelhar smiled and immediately answered.

"Yes! Your Lordship!" Koelhar beamed.

"What is it that you want?" The Duke gazed at him with curious blue eyes.

"My Lord, I would like to-"

"MY LORD!" Sir Roganoff broke into the study in a hurry.

"What is it?!" The personal knights of the Duke had blocked him.

"The prisoners!" Sir Roganoff paused as he wheezed for air.

'He must have ran from the dungeons to the keep.' Sir Koelhar thought.

"Sound the alarm!" The Warden said with a steel gaze.

"There has been a Prison Breakout."