86 A Token of My Gratitude
The attack was both swift and utterly brutal. Ezekiel swung his sword at every moving soldier he could find, even jumping off his horse in favor of being up close and personal with each kill that he made. Some of his attention was still on his army, however, mentally tallying the general position of his men just to make sure that nobody was left on their own.
“Secure all the exits! Leave none alive!”
Shouting out another order, the Prince returned to his regularly scheduled program of killing and maiming. With each swing, another bisected body fell to the ground, his strength and rage carrying him to victory the deeper he led his army into the encampment.
“This is therapeutic,” Ezekiel chuckled to himself as he cut down what felt like the hundredth enemy soldier he encountered. “Who knew that taking out your anger on your enemies would be this much fun?”
Swinging onto his back, the Prince deflected yet another attempt of an enemy soldier stabbing him in the back. Meanwhile, the distant sounds of Darius utterly destroying his own side of the battlefield almost made him feel inadequate with his own kill count. Then again, he was a mere human, and the king was a veritable murder blender of inhuman strength and razor-sharp claws.
“I guess I just have to keep up.”
Shaking his head, Ezekiel almost moved ahead when he suddenly sensed a presence coming from his left side. It was yet another soldier, but one that he hadn’t taken account of as he had left his flank wide open.
“Die!”
The Prince quickly raised his sword to defend, but before the soldier could even swing his sword, a massive blur flashed right through him, cutting the poor Helion soldier in half before he fell to the ground in two pieces.
“You’re getting complacent.”
Looking up, Ezekiel could only chuckle as Darius addressed him. The Werewolf King was covered head to toe in blood, but it was obvious from the murderous grin on his face that none of it was the king’s.
“I had it under control,” Ezekiel scoffed, flicking the blood off his sword before he casually swung at yet another soldier that stupidly got in front of him. “These are small fry.”
“I agree,” Darius grunted, his massive hands suddenly grabbing one soldier each before bashing their heads together, killing them instantly. “I expected more sport than mere chaff.”
“This looks more like an advance party than a main contingent anyway,” Ezekiel pointed out. “We’d be lucky to get some valuable intel here. Maybe they’ll have a few missives coming from their central command, but not much in terms of the general strategy that they might employ on their own armies.”
“That’s still something of value,” Darius pointed out. “Assuming that this camp’s commander hadn’t burned them all down.”
“That’s a valid point,” Ezekiel casually hummed in agreement, completely at ease despite being in the middle of a literal battlefield. “I’ll be paying the command tent a visit then.”
“Good luck.”
Leaving Darius to his own session of murder, Ezekiel hacked and slashed his way to the largest tent in the encampment. Casually announcing his presence by hacking away at the tent’s entrance.
But his jaw dropped the moment he entered. He didn’t expect the scene before him. He stood dazed staring at the beautiful woman whose icy blue eyes met his, their cold and winter-like brilliance somehow giving him chills. It also gave contrast to her black hair, her locks flowing as sweetly as a poet’s ink and quill.
She was shackled and her clothes were ripped off, a sight that pierced straight through his heart as he narrowed his eyes. His dangerous gaze quickly dragged itself towards the naked man not far from her, a cold fury brewing within him as he walked forward.
As the prince approached, the naked commander cursed as his eyes quickly darted to his sword. However, it was quite far from his reach, and Ezekiel swiftly moved to pull the woman behind his back before the commander could properly defend himself. With a growl, he ordered the woman, “Hide yourself.”
“Y-You… What’re you-” murmured the commander, who was obviously taken aback by the abrupt intrusion.
“We’ve come to avenge our people,” Ezekiel coolly declared, not allowing the commander to even finish his sentence. “You’ve killed quite a few important men recently, and Ebodia won’t stand for that.”
As if recognizing his words, the commander seemingly took on a smug tone as he taunted, “W-what? You mean those idiots that were retreating back to that puny kingdom of yours? We weren’t even trying when I gave out the order to ambush them! What a joke of a-“
“So it was you?!” Ezekiel shouted out, having pieced together the fact that the man in front of him was the one that gave out the orders that killed Beirut. “You killed Beirut?!”
“I-I don’t even know who that is!” the commander shakily mocked. “All I know is that we killed some weak humans who didn’t even put up a fight!”
Ezekiel saw red as he marched towards the cowering commander. Raising his sword, he was just about to bring it down when he stopped just before he made contact. His eyes burned as he leaned forward, venom dripping from his tone as he whispered, “You didn’t put up a fight either.”
“Wha-“
With a flick of his wrist, Ezekiel beheaded the commander, watching in satisfaction as it rolled onto his feet.
“That’s for Beirut, you coward.”
Flicking the blood off his sword, Ezekiel sheathed his weapon when a telltale silence settled throughout the camp. The fighting was over, and they had easily won.
He looked at the woman who met his stare without even a hint of fear. Approaching her, he removed her shackles as he said, “You’re free now.”
He didn’t give her a second look as he turned his back. That woman possessed icy blue eyes, the same hue that Beirut had warned him about. Even though she didn’t completely match Beirut’s description with her black, wavy hair, Ezekiel wouldn’t still take the risk. He was given a warning by their former Seer, and he would do his best to not ignore it.
Stepping outside the tent, Ezekiel was just about to shout out orders when Darius came to him with a few men and women all shackled in chains.
“Prince Ezekiel, a few of your men found these captive civilians in the camp’s prison,” Darius gestured towards them. “I know you said we’ll leave them to fend for themselves, but…”
Darius frowned, and Ezekiel followed his gaze. The Werewolf King’s eyes had darted towards the woman with icy blue eyes as she just went out of the tent.
“She’s Tarah, a healer. I recognize her from the time that she healed Xen back to health. We should take her in with us as a token of my gratitude.”
“Is that so?” Ezekiel hummed. “Very well. She may come with us, but you will have to be responsible for her safety. Our supplies are limited as it is, and it’ll-“
“But your Highness, it’d be too dangerous to leave them here alone.”
Ezekiel raised an eyebrow at being interrupted. Recognizing Atlas’s voice, the prince turned to address him. “Hmm… But there might be spies in their midst.”
“But they’re all human, your Highness. Surely that’s more than enough proof that they won’t make a move against us,” Atlas argued. “Besides, they’ll die if we leave them alone out here in the wilderness.”
Ezekiel sighed as he weighed his options. Clicking his tongue, he let out a sigh as he came to a decision.
“You have a point, Atlas,” the prince nodded. “We shall take the captive humans with us, but as Darius is responsible for this healer he found, you will be responsible for the welfare of these people.”
“O-Of course, Your Highness!”
Ezekiel nodded as he then took one last look at the enemy encampment. Seeing a job well done, he barked out, “Good job, men! Once you’ve all looted and stripped this camp for any valuables, let’s return back to camp!”