PATRIARCH FOWL
patreon
Casual Heroing, Chapter 152
🕑 Added 2023-07-29 18:55:28 +0000 UTCNext chapter comes out Sunday, July 30th!
Read-y Link (Mobile Optimized Reader)
BLACK OPS?! 🎖🎖🎖
6/7 chapters this week!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Chapter 152 - Operative
Lucillus awoke to a bone-chilling cold, the harsh stone wall behind him pressing into his naked torso. His vision swam, finally adjusting to the overwhelming darkness. The room was a void, an oppressive and stifling blackness that consumed all hope of seeing his surroundings. He tugged at the bonds around his wrists, rough vine tendrils biting into his flesh.
The air was thick and damp, heavy with the smell of mold. It clung to his skin, leaving it feeling clammy and uncomfortable.
Where am I? The gruff Elf asked himself, gritting his teeth when he tried to wiggle his wrists and ankles.
He slightly moved his feet against the stone floor beneath, cold and gritty. The roughness scratched his fingertips, the strange texture grounding him in the bleak reality of his situation. Above him, he could hear the distant drip of water, each drop echoing through the silence and adding to the oppressive atmosphere. His body was riddled with aches, a constant reminder of his current predicament. His arms and shoulders were stiff and throbbing from the strain of being bound. The bite of the vines was like a swarm of stinging insects, their persistent prickling adding another layer to his discomfort.
He strained his neck, which, too, was bound, trying to gleam anything recognizable about this place.
Through the fog of disorientation, he began to recall fragments of the past. He had been on a mission – Captain Drusillus had given him the order. Together with three other guards, he was to escort an informant, an invaluable source of intelligence, to a secure location beyond the city walls where others would have taken him to a safe location. It was about the marble trades—some Elves had been caught dealing marble to the Humans, and one of them had confessed, apparently.
Rotten bastards, right on my first mission.
Lucillus had waited a long time to be given an opportunity like this one. After getting to know Joey, he started feeling even more useless than usual. With his puny level 13 [Guard] and his level 11 [Historian], Lucillus had been feeling like a complete failure compared to the genius Human.
That was why he had asked [Captain] Drusillus for more responsibility. He had had to disclose his second class, however. The [Captain] didn’t make a particular face—a small grace, honestly; Lucillus had fully expected to be mocked for accepting such a scholarly class as a [Historian].
Now, though…
Lucillus’s eyes darted back and forth in what looked like a seedy basement, wondering what had happened. He had no recollection of anything.
Suddenly, a door creaked open outside of his field of vision, the sound slicing through the silence like a blade. Light, dim and eerie, streamed into the place, casting long, distorted shadows. His eyes, starved of light for hours, strained to make sense of the figure entering the room.
The man's footsteps echoed on the stone confines of the basement – a steady, rhythmic tap that quickened Lucillus's heartbeat. Then, he heard the scraping sound of a chair against the stone pavement as the man came to rest before him, sitting in a relaxed pose.
"[Guard]," the man called, his voice reflecting off the cold, damp walls. His tone was casual, almost conversational, but there was a biting edge lurking beneath. "The others have escaped, leaving you behind."
Lucillus swallowed hard, his throat dry.
He gritted his teeth, his voice emerging as a defiant snarl. "I have nothing to say."
“I haven’t asked anything yet,” the deep voice replied.
A silence fell on the two, the tension in the room palpable. The man sighed – a resigned, almost bored sound. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a heavy bag that clinked promisingly. The man fished inside it and took out one gold coin and placed it in front of Lucillus’s face.
Gold?
“A generous offer for information, an easy way out,” He tossed the bag on the floor beside Lucillus, the coins spilling from the bag and glinting ominously in the faint light. “We don’t want to hurt anyone from the [Watch] if we don’t have to. We have a bunch of dead royals instead that would love to have a chat with you. What do you say, ready to bite the fruit now?”
Lucillus’s lips remained sealed, his expression resolute. He looked at the bag on the ground and then at the man.
“Fuck you,” Lucillus said.
He would not sell out his comrades, not for any amount of gold. Not on his first damn mission.
The man's countenance darkened. His friendly facade fell away, replaced by an expression of cold, cruel intent. "You're stubborn. Admirable but foolish. Are you sure you don’t want to tell us where you were dropping that little snitch?”
Lucillus braced himself for what was to come, not saying one more word.
The man stood, the sound of his chair scraping against the floor reverberating through the room again. He turned, his silhouette ghosting into the dim light filtering in from the door left ajar, and scoffed at the uncooperating Lucillus. His footsteps echoed around the room, growing fainter as he walked away, leaving Lucillus in a deafening silence. The uncertainty of what was to come twisted inside his stomach like a live snake, coiling, and uncoiling.
Time seemed to stretch; every second was filled with nerve-wracking tension. The drip of water from somewhere overhead was the only sound in the basement, its rhythm creating a discordant beat in the otherwise silent room.
Fuck! Fuck! Lucillus swore to himself, starting to panic. What the fuck am I going to do?!
As the minutes dragged on, Lucillus’s heart was racing, threatening to burst out of his chest.
Rotten roots of the World’s Tree! My first mission! My first fucking mission!
He thought about what could happen to him now, wondering why the [Captain] hadn’t specified just how dangerous this mission was going to be. Lucillus wasn’t sure he would have actually accepted if he had known in advance.
His mind wandered to his cousin, Clodia.
She would handle this rotten shit better than me, the usually grumpy man thought, absolutely terrified of what was about to come next.
Fuck it; I can’t cave like this.
The door creaked open again, shattering the quietude. The figure of the man reappeared, a more menacing aura surrounding him now. In one hand, he carried a whip, its leather strands dancing ominously with his movements. In the other, he held a bag. As he dropped it onto the ground, the harsh clinking of metal rang through the air.
This time, it wasn’t gold that spilled out of it.
Lucillus closed his eyes and took a big breath while his heart kept pounding in his chest.
The whip he could handle – the pain was going to be intense but not unbearable. It was the bag that sent chills down his spine.
As the man dragged a table into the room and started setting various tools on it, his cold gaze washed over Lucillus.
“Are you sure you ain’t talking?”
“Fuck you!”
…
Hours turned into an excruciating eternity as the man's questioning grew more and more brutal. The sharp sting of a whip etched lines of fire into Lucillus's chest and abdomen, each lash pulling a scream from his lips.
Still, he didn’t say a word.
Eventually, the man leaned in, his breath hot against Lucillus's face.
"Look at me, Elf," he demanded. Reluctantly, Lucillus complied, his gaze finally making out the features of the man before him.
Lucillus saw his captor’s rounded ears and felt his heart jump.
A Human?!
The revelation was like a punch in his gut.
"We know you are friends with Humans. Why don’t you help yourself, and I can just leave? The vines will expire in a few hours, and you can find your way home before dawn."
Lucillus’s mind raced, confusion and fear clawing at his resolve.
“F—Fuck you,” Lucillus wheezed, blood dripping down on the floor. “I’m not saying a single word to you, worm!”
It was one thing for Lucillus to appreciate Joey as a person, but he had no dear feelings for the race as a whole.
“Fuck you and your marble!” He added, his mind addled by the pain.
Why was a Human doing this to him? His silence persisted, and his tormentor's patience finally seemed to snap.
The man reached for a rusty, ominous-looking hook, its sharp end glinting wickedly in the scant light. He lifted it, aiming for Lucillus's eye.
“Are you sure about this? We are just getting started,” the man grinned dangerously.
Panic gripped him, but Lucillus gritted his teeth and steeled himself for the inevitable pain.
“Go ahead, worm!” Lucillus screamed, his spit flying at the Human.
Just as he was bracing for the agony, a slow, rhythmic clap filled the room.
"Enough," a second, familiar voice commanded.
Lucillus felt the vines binding him slowly recede, and he fell knees-first on the ground.
He started coughing, spitting blood and saliva on the ground, carefully touching the wounds on his neck. Raising his head, his blood ran cold as Captain Drusillus emerged from the shadows, his expression impassive. He locked eyes with Lucillus, a strange glint of pride in his eyes. "You have passed the test, Lucillus."
Comments
Fowl
On it!
sethorizer
"such a scholarly class as a [Guard]". I suppose this should be [Historian]? Also, wasn't [Guard] supposed to be his lower leveled class?
Really_Big
Fucking knew it! . . . . . . After he dumped the gold and left the first time I knew what was about to happen.
