TBATE-PRODIGY

Chapter 98

Aya Grephin POV

Silence. There wasn't even a single laugh heard as I walked through the streets of Vildorial. Several soldiers sat down in the streets, and others walked around in small formations. The civilians who stayed in Darv walked around with their heads low. It even seemed like the city grew darker.

The morale among everyone in the city was incredibly low. After word of the gruesome torture and death of Mica had spread, everyone seemed to have lost hope, not just in the war, but in us. The Lances were supposed to be a symbol of power, but this Sameer showed just how much stronger he was compared to us. He killed two birds with one stone that day, Mica and the troops' faith in us. I still remember when Bairon brought her body back, limbs missing, skin rotted off and burned like she was doused in acid, eyes gauged out, and the singe mark from Bairon's lightning above her heart.

I spoke with the troops that were there that day. They could barely speak about the atrocity they had witnessed. I couldn't even believe it myself when they told me. I truly felt like I was going to be sick from their testimonies. But I felt more rage than anything. Rage to avenge Mica, to kill this Retainer with my two hands. However, I wasn't a fool either. I knew better than to fly off half-cocked and risk getting myself killed.

I called the council afterward to report her death. Elder Buhnd couldn't believe my words when I told him what had happened. The council was stunned and disgusted to learn about how Mica died. After her death, the council decided that we just needed to focus on defensive tactics and scout missions to track Alacryan movements. They didn't want us to risk unnecessary death.

Mica's death also showed one thing, the Lances were hopelessly overpowered by these Retainers. Plus, they weren't even Alacrya's strongest warriors. They served the Scythes, and we were yet to meet one on the battlefield.

As I walked down the street, I noticed how the soldiers would give me a quick look before looking away. Before, soldiers seemed to idolize me and saw me as a beacon of hope. But now, that hope was gone. I knew we needed a way to boost morale and show them this war wasn't over yet, Darv wasn't lost, but I didn't know how.

Right now, I couldn't worry about that since I was given a scout mission that I needed to complete. I walked through the streets until I made it to a bar. Most of the establishments in Vildorial had closed except for the pertinent facilities. However, this bar stayed open as a way for soldiers to wind down and let their stress out.

I opened the door entering the bar, only to be met by stale air. I held in a cough as everyone inside turned to look at me. The bar had several tables set up and a counter where people could sit at. The walls were decorated with Dwarven artwork. With statues placed in the corners.

I looked at the men as they gazed at me and saw despair. There was no hope left in their eyes, and they turned to look back at their tables, eyeing their alcoholic drinks like they were the only important thing in the world. I sighed as I closed the door behind me and scanned the room. My eyes fell to a table in the corner of the room, seeing a man with platinum blonde hair sitting at the table with a bottle of rum in his hands. I began to make my way over to him when he took another sip from the bottle.

As I approached him, he just sat there staring blankly at the table. His uniform was untucked, wrinkled, and had stains on the front. He had taken off his cape, which was lying on the floor. His hair was disheveled, his eyes were watery and bloodshot, and he reeked of intoxicants. I just shook my eyes, glaring at him.

"How pathetic," I said, getting his attention.

Bairon slowly lifted his head as he looked at me with a slight head tilt, with his head slightly agape.