An Orchestra of Attacks

Concealed among shadows...

A faulty description. Imagined to mitigate ambiguity towards a one individual cloaked in darkness. It was true that their face was concealed, and that this concealment was brought about by shadows. Even so, Scarlett surmised to an almost certain possibility; there was, without wavering truth, a woman underneath that cloak.

...

By now, Scarlett had already sussed out who this hidden person was. And even though she felt it better to be sure of their identity, she held up a hand as they reached to remove their hood.

"No." she said. "It's better you leave that on."

At her word, the individual repositioned their hands from their head to their sides before tilting their head up a bit to speak...

However again...

"Don't speak either. Not while we're still in the Gi Template, together."

Scarlett rested Lafriel's body on the ground with her back layed against the wall. She left this cloaked person confused without permission to announce themselves in greater degrees...while limiting their freedom to communicate.

But something rare was at hand...which was that this person...this individual, had faith in Scarlett. And if the librarian said something apparently ridiculous, then they would easily bet she had good reason to say whatever made it past her mouth. Either that, or something else required priority, and she ran thin on time to explain.

"Since you're here..." Scarlett started speaking while tearing her attention from Lafriel's curved eyelashes. "...is it safe to say you're finished on your end?"

The individual nodded, to which Scarlett giggled curtly, almost like she expected a different response...and was amused to be aware her expectations were but just as they are; expectations.

"I'd like to know, when we have time, how you managed to pull it all off without my help. Of course...what I'm most interested of, is how you made your escape from that woman's realm."

At loss for understanding, the individual found no way to convey their thoughts, for now...or any other time. This was better since they were puzzled for how to give Scarlett an answer...which her comprehension can catalyze.

'How did I arrive at escaping that woman's realm?' The cloaked one thought briefly without ponder. Something else pulled their mind from further considering that question...something which Scarlett herself took time to account...

"Where is she?" The red woman asked.

A finger lifted in the air from the hand of the person Infront of her. And said finger rose until it marked a direction; directly east.

Scarlett sorted her susses for a few moments as her eyes trailed along the guided path of a certain index. When she came to quick enlightenment, she spoke again. "Is that how you bypassed the undeads?"

The individual nodded once more, this time...in a regretful manner; gradual, and pressed with hesitation.

"Somehow, my need to worry for that girl is thwarted by the thought you even left her there at all. She really does know how to handle herself, am I not right?" Scarlett asked, yet didn't wait for a response before saying. "Let us not waste time then, she might be able to handle herself...but 'herself' is not equivalent to hundreds of undeads by any remote margin."

Guided by Scarlett's pace...they both took their way towards a giant horde of not-so-dead but not-so-alive creatures.

...

...

...

At the dead of night, a king would be in his bed...alongside his queen. Same for an emperor and his empress...if that might be considered a thing. But, for all things...there existed patterns—all which must have reason for irregularities. Much like the irregularity of a lord sitting in his throne room at certain hours where clocks shouldn't chime, and alarms wouldn't go off.

...

Though, possibilities are always ventured through time...

...that's why at this time, on the strike of the third hour after midnight, a clock chimed away at the nerves of all that might hear; while an alarm, somewhere farther, rang a tune of dread.

The room took black and grey shades, separated from white moonlighted windows...inclining a stretch of light along rose, golden-hemmed carpets. A silver threaded long cloth wrapped each curtain at their waist to greater unveil the moon's brightness through the arched windows who reached the tips of the ceiling, and the base of the floor.

At a stand view from the doors, another shadow hid under the brightness of the moonlight; a silhouette. Hinged in a tedious pose: straightened back, upward posture...and a lazy arm pressing against a cheek with elbow braced on an armrest. Then closer, resounding taps faintly beated off a throne while the shadow would appear less dark, and more grey.

Now it came clear, this shadow...was much more than a shadow. It was a middle aged man teetering on the brink of madness.

...

Skyvent Template, acting lord of the Gi Template, left no pretences to cover up his bothered demeanor. Or maybe it was that he felt bored, which would barely cause any differences for anything which might happen next.

The man tapped...

And tapped...

And tapped some more.

The tip of his index finger felt numb. But by his logic, it'd be better to feel numb physically...than mentally.

Right now, he contemplated death by boredom...which seemed quite possible to occur knowing the lengths someone would go...to alleviate a lack of stimuli. However, if his mental fortitude wasn't enough to suppress himself from inflicting pain on his own body just from being bored, then by what respect does a man like him gain the right to rule over a complex region like the Gi Template?

On that regard, he waited for entertainment to come to him.

...

Time passed, nothing came...

So he waited with the company he created through the sound of his finger tapping the edge of the throne's armrest.

At times he breathed deeply to variate his breaths, then other times he yawned to refresh his mind...

...he'd even sigh a little to give his tapping partner a friend of sound judgement.

Still, no one came.

He was well past his breaking point, which meant that sheer endurance kept him from snapping a gear. Feeling himself gradually drifting to the seas of insanity, the man chose to sacrifice sophisticated maturity...instead of his own sound mind.

As grey as his hair was, Skyvent shot to his feet while ignoring the usual discomforts experienced in his age.

At a wall following the corridor of the red carpet, the man unsheathed one of four swords from a scabbard hung horizontally. Then, he withheld his impulse to draw his own blood while staring at his reflection in the blade.

His eyes drifted decisively on the flat of a wooden rectangular table posted on the wall close at his side. The middle ager needed not to think about what he would do next, all he felt was simply to do something...anything!

So he took it upon himself to draw it; his breath, not his blood. And in that same action, he waved the sword over his head while shouting like a maniac as he brought the blade down on an empty ceramic vase atop the table, most likely an expensive one...or worse—priceless.

"LORD SKYVENT! I'M HERE TO REPORT!"

A voice boomed through the throne room along with a hand which swung the doors to the room wide open.

Skyvent halted way past midway swing, a few more centimetres and he'd have at least cracked a sizable piece out of the ceramic vase. The man glared over his shoulder, yet didn't meet the man who entered the room with his eyes, he dared not to.

His face burned red out of anger, and it also flushed rosy from his embarrassment.

"About damn time!" he shouted, carefully lowering the sword at his right side. "But why now? When I'm making a fool out of myself." he muttered, knowing how ridiculous he looked shouting like a madman with a machete...or sword in his case.

Skyvent slipped the sword back in its sheath, then gaited on the red carpet to sit on the throne he almost disgraced.

Clearing his throat, the lord placed his eyes on the squire who took his stance on the carpet before him. The squire stared at Skyvent, distracted with the vivid image of him arbitrarily swinging a sword at an innocent vase that did nothing to deserve his wrath.

"Ahem! Your report?" Skyvent said.

The young man, squire, fumbled in a sack tied on a belt around his waist and pulled out a scroll. His lord shot his nerves when raking him in from his stupor, which was why the scroll fell out of his hands the moment he retrieved it from his sack.

Skyvent sighed; facepalming, but realising he was the cause of the squire's ineptitude...so he chose not to cause a fuss over simply dropping a piece of parchment.

With the scroll secured in his hand, the young man cleared his throat to properly read the contents within.

"By the name of The Western Veil Guardian. The first ward to the nineteenth, hereby formally reports for Clocktower's second state of alarm to Lord Skyvent Template—acting lord of the Gi Template." The young man glance up from the papers in his hand, his primary sight to be Skyvent who appeared indifferent towards the formalities which passively praised him. Thus as quickly as he flicked his eyes up, he brought them back down to resume his iteration. "Under direct leadership of Guardian Polos himself, the attack on the western walls is being pushed back both externally as well as internally. Though the enemys' numbers range at approximately nine thousand, barely enough to take on a single sector of the walls, there is strong reason to believe this attack is no primitive coincidence. And as such, the alarm of the Clocktower has risen from the first state, to the second.

"On the outer walls, enemies approach nearing three-quarters of total amount. Their ranks are made up of unknown creatures of unknown origin. These creatures appear to be shadow type beast with light attacks being the most effective against them. And in the inner walls, less than a quarter of enemy forces have appeared from underground; all know to be undeads.

"It is concluded that royal tier necromancy is at play in the inner walls, possibly performed at jack grade. With proper suspicion, it is believed that someone in the Gi Template had risen the undeads and is now at large among the people. Since this be the case, it is also assumed that this attack on the Gi Template is orchestrated by greater power than that of which caused the attack in the inner walls.

"So far, the Western Veil Guardian requires no assistance from the king's personal forces, but still advises to stay alert for further possible waves of attack. And uhh...Guardian Polos also requests that no one else sends fish bait to aid him in defending the western walls. By decree of Polos Kai Dyka. Let's get to fishin'...?"

The last three sentences made the squire raise an eyebrow while he read. Yet as the weight of his duties lifted off his back, he could care nil about what was written on the parchment...so long as Skyvent received the message in full.

Lord Skyvent felt no apprehension whatsoever, he was more worried about being bored than an attack on the Gi Template...which ultimately either says something about him, or the faith he has in The Veil Guardians.

"Is that all?" Skyvent asked.

The words to proceed from Skyvent's mouth were to be take with great consideration in the eyes of this squire, so even as the thought seemed foolish by the young man, he turned to the back of the scroll to check if anything else be written...

...fortunately there wasn't, as to be expected from a scroll.

"Uhh...no my lord."

Skyvent lamented at this young man's foolish behaviour. He waved the squire off to which the latter bowed curtly before closing the doors behind him as he left.