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❝ Yep, so . . . that's— that's the guy we gotta kill now—❞
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WHEN FLARE SAID SOMETHING ALONG the lines of "oh, how the turn-tables" as a joke, Five absent-mindedly agreed, but didn't fully register how much weight was held behind her words. However, now they're the ones looking over their shoulders on the run from a pursuer — not just Lucius. On top of that, they're wandering through a street similar to where they had chased him before. Ironic, isn't it?
The only weapon on them is Flare's dagger. Even then, it's unknown whether her and Five's combined combat skills would be enough to compete with a ruthless Roman warrior.
Wandering out in the open like this — it makes them feel vulnerable. Neither of them like that feeling. That's something they both have in common: the two would rather be caught dead than exposed.
But that's what they are: exposed, and that probably wouldn't change anytime soon.
Five, Flare, and Lucius finally reach the outskirts of the town. Fortunately, they seem to have lost sight of their pursuer, but a prickling gut feeling is telling them that the battle has yet to begin. Quickly, they start crossing the field, heading straight towards the farmhouse in the distance.
The sun has moved further along in the sky, shining down on them with a comforting warmth in the chilly March breeze. It looks to be around two or three in the afternoon — maybe even four. It's hard to tell, though. A watch would be useful right about now.
"Sumus claudere," Lucius points into the distance at their destination. "Nemo est in domum suam."
"He says we're close," Flare translates, "and that no one's home."
"You know, Flare, every time he talks, I start to wish we had been assigned Ancient Greece instead," Five complains.
"That's because you have no idea what anyone's saying, and I do," she replies triumphantly. "For instance, tuus mentula maxime magnus est—"
Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps and ruffling grass fills the air. All three of them whip around. There, walking towards them, is the armored man from earlier, and he does not look friendly.
"Lucy? Lucius? Lucinda?" Flare calls out, unable to peel her eyes away from the terrifying sight. "Noli respicere post tergum. Curre!"
Lucius doesn't waste a moment to make a break for it. She and Five turn face their opponent, crouching defensively as he approaches. They would have to serve as a distraction for now. The armored man lumbers closer.
