Harbinger Of Doom: The Attainer

20. Street Fight

"I come from a humble background of people who like putting effort in what we do. What you saw recently was a matter of diligence."

"Diligence is a nice attribute. I see you came from a background of diligent people. In that case, I will not have to worry about you delivering." Mo replied and began to leave. Boln observed Lores for a good while as if suspecting something.

"I'm sure you know what protecting his highness's interest is all about. Do not try anything funny." His voice frosty and strict. At that moment, Lores thought that the phrase 'Don't bite more than you can chew' was made for him. He was not sure of how to respond. Before he could give the slightest reaction, Boln was already in tow after the prince. Hilbwet who had been silent mimicked subsequently.

When they left, some of the guards who were swordplay freaks crowded Lores, gabbling friendly words simultaneously.

"Hey, I'm Wes. Your skills are top-notch. Let's be practice partners."

"You're really good. How about becoming friends?"

"Call me Lance. It will be a pleasure to practice with you."

"Hey! Who's your teacher? I'd be very glad to learn from you."

Lores let out a confused soundless laugh as he scratched his hair, eyes drifting between the extroverts. To him, the attention he got was exaggerated because he still saw himself as a learner. He needed to get the hell out of the training zone as quickly as possible.

Not willing to make friends, he accelerated out of the zone without uttering a syllable. That was the possible best and only option.

-

"When your dad was arrested that day, he was brought here. He was arrested by the king himself, so he would be somewhere unaccessible by any person. It will be impossible to save him unless we get vital information." Vicksen mused, walking side by side Lores.

"I believe he can hold on till we get to the bottom of all this. If that prince's palace can be strictly guarded like that, how much more the royal palace? We only speculated that he may be in the dungeon. We really can't tell where exactly he'd been abandoned." Lores sighed and crossed his arms. "With time, I'll get that prince let out the useful intelligence." He reached an inference that to play a safe and rational game, the program had to change from infiltrating the palace to obtaining useful intelligence.

"By the way." Lores began after a bout of hush. "How have business been for you?" Vicksen became sulky, ruffling his hair.

"That old smith. He said I'm not competent because my hand-eye co-ordination failed to improve. I'll have to count on your job."

"Well, he didn't lie. Now you're on the verge of loosing your job. Assuming I haven't gotten a job, both of us would've been in deep mess." Lores bragged.

"Alright stop praising yourself. I'm even tired of working under him. I can decide to leave. In any case, I was the one who offered to help. I'm positive that another opportunity will come."

As they talked, a group of about eight guys clustered onward, causing them to stop in their tracks. Judging from their stares and aura, they meant no good. They were already sporting spirited exercises like rolling up their sleeves, neck cracking and head cocking.

The duo exchanged glances in complete confusion. Lores began to wonder when it became a routine to beat people in broad daylight. These guys had fire in their bellies, and couldn't wait to pounce on their victims. Vicksen released a dramatic sigh, pointing at the skirmishers.

"What's the meaning of this? Who did you offend this time?" He questioned Lores. The latter started, brows nethering. In reality, he could not actually recollect what offense he may have probably done previously that resulted in the nuisance ahead of him. Or had he unknowingly brought trouble to himself? His dealings with Prince Mo was smooth. Even if there were, supposedly, minor tiffs, this wasn't the prince's style of action at all. He mused for a good while, yet he found no base.