Dressed in a creased and muddied uniform, the delinquent instructor did not appear like the saviour that the squad had hoped for but again, they had not expected anyone to come to their aid.
The corners of his mouth fell, and he frowned upon discovering the terror that the squad had inflicted on themselves, but his annoyance was mitigated by a sigh. He knelt beside his former cadets and watched as one of their wounds overflowed before glancing at the other seven. “Causin’ trouble again?” Skowroński joked as he crossed his arms over his knees.
Fearing that the lieutenant would berate them, Colt looked away, but he spotted a familiar figure guarding their two mounts. “Alexa?” Rubbing his eyes, he squinted to make sure she was not a mirage, but he wondered why she was with the lieutenant. “B-but, what the fuck’s he doin’ here?” He asked Skowroński while pointing at him.
“I’s riding with Nikola when we caught word from yer gal over there, but I warn y’all, the general and the major’re piss’d.” Skowroński recounted his previous task before showing himself before the squad, but he never explained why he had come to the continent.
Looking over to Vasilevsky, the lieutenant scratched his beard in search of an explanation for why the squad was still alive and well, and why the enemy took no initiative to crush their outnumbered, outclassed, and outmanoeuvred prey. The instructor stood up, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to understand what was going on and dismissed the danger he had put himself in as he approached the lion making his enemies lock their blades against this new threat.
The lieutenant’s eyes were closed when he halted and voiced. “What is it y’want in ‘em alive?” His neck was within a sword’s reach, yet he was confident enough to enter negotiations with the colonel general.
The lion responded, surprised that the messenger had asked him. “Their talents.” Without a hint of deception, the colonel general truthfully said.
Lowering his hand, the lieutenant’s golden pupils were like twin suns, staring into the lion’s soul, burning away the illusion that he was in command. The humble instructor, who had no background according to the squad, overstepped his boundaries and clipped his thumbs to his belt, his expression revealing an inhuman calmness. “Oh? And how much’re y’gonna pay us in return?” When the lieutenant proposed a trade, he chuckled, his eyes level with the colonel general's.
The squad recoiled in horror that their lieutenant would really give them up for a price, but their fatigue had clouded their minds as to what Skowroński was trying to do.
Vasilevsky unhinged the flask on his hip and took a sip from it, as if he was belittling the precious time they had left, but the lieutenant knew it was a test of his patience. “Name your price.” The colonel general set his drink aside and entertained his enemy.
Unsure as to why the colonel general would answer his ridiculous question, the lieutenant blurted out a laugh behind his hand shaped into a cone. “A kingdom or two.” In a neutral manner, the young man played along, projecting a gaze that was difficult to read.
In anticipation of action, the lieutenant changed his stance, shifting one foot back and reeling his hands to the front of his belt. His preparation had not gone unnoticed. Vasilevsky turned his eyes downward and was struck by the shine of a sigil in gold that was no stranger him, who returned to the young man, understanding why this lowly lieutenant could act so brazenly in the face of a lion. “Perhaps, in five years’ time, that would not be so unrealistic.” Vasilevsky stiffened his face and lowered the pitch of his voice, his words becoming a grumble. “However, they did slaughter a thousand of mine. How should that be repaid?” He peered at the squad behind the lieutenant and asked for compensation in return for their freedom, sounding like he had backed away from his original plan of battling the messenger.
Skowroński moved his hands away from the hooked blades on his belt, which looked like harmless measuring tapes, and scanned his environs, where swords and rifles were littered around bodies being ferried away in bulk and those on the verge of death being tended to by medics. Realising what a predicament he had stepped into as a result of his former cadets’ recklessness, he reverted to diplomacy. “Name your price.” Skowroński copied the colonel general’s bargain.
“Six hours and be gone, army and all, lest a firestorm a thousandfold costlier than what you have lost ravage that hill.” The lion offered his terms as he tightened his grip on his shashka’s pommel.
It was a habit for the colonel general to speak no lies, and the lieutenant knew he was fully capable of making sure his word was absolute, and when the sun shuddered, enclosing itself behind a curtain of clouds, did the lieutenant nod. “Fairs.” Pivoting around, he gestured for his squad to depart as soon as they were able to.
His back was turned against the lion, whose fists relaxed as he watched the lieutenant round up his young soldiers. Many Confederates were dissatisfied with the outcome, but the colonel general knew he had to keep his word because it was the chivalrous way, no matter what his lion-like instincts told him. Skowroński mounted his steed, still stunned that his former cadets had survived the ordeal, and led them towards safety. Alexandria relinquished her saddle for Gin and Arminius, the worst wounded, and joined those able to guard their backs. Sergeants rushed towards the group to carry out the colonel general’s orders, while the comrades of the dead reluctantly moved aside, creating a corridor for their former prey to escape without receiving the punishment they had anticipated. They resentfully spat and cursed at them as they disappeared into the army with an escort, and the day fell silent again.
The crisis had come to an end, and it prompted a sigh out of the colonel general, but his subordinate approached him from behind with a bucket of questions. “Sir, may I?” Rzhev softly requested permission to speak.
A hand was held up before his face, denying him the reason for letting them go. “You needn’t trouble yourself or any of us for that matter.” Vasilevsky assured him as he lowered his hand, turning around and walking away with his subordinates. “That was the pupil of Hannes, the God of War.” The colonel general looked over his shoulder and spoke to his legate, who was unaware of the lieutenant’s identity.
Rzhev paused, looking up in disbelief, standing beside a colonel who was frozen in his thoughts as if he had always known about the lieutenant’s background, but the legate could not help but wonder how powerful a man the student of the God of War was, or if that was just a title without proof. However, as the colonel general marched away, he lacked his usual air of courage. He was acting evasive, because even the mighty Summer Lion was not sure if he would have been able to win if they fought. The glint of his shield flashed as it swung around his arm, jolting the legate out of his stupor. Rzhev took long strides to catch up to his mentor, also his commander, over the soil, which had been nourished by the puddles of blood that had yet to seep through.481Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpcwoAwXf3K
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