Chapter 173: The Legendary Horsemen III

Toussaint left his attendant lying on the ground, groaning.

He moved through his castle, pausing momentarily to glimpse the scene beyond the window.

Orange flames as bright as sun fire licked at the tops of trees less than three miles away.

He was almost out of time. But there were still moves he could make before he lowered himself to swatting down the flies personally.

Toussaint moved quickly through the empty palace. Everyone inside had already sought out their families or friends to take shelter in light of the attack.

’Cowards, the lot of them…’

The elven king stopped just in front of a door on the other side of the palace.

He kicked the door in, and light poured into a dark cellar. Two women sat on the ground, chained to the floor.

They looked up at him, their bodies covered in sweat and signs of torture etched into their skin. Heartbreaking holes dotted their beautiful wings.

“You’ll have to forgive me, sisters… I haven’t had the proper time to pay attention to you while you were here. I’ve been dealing with some very unpleasant matters as of late. It’s left me a bit preoccupied and unable to attend to you properly.”

The chains rattled as both women looked up. Toussaint’s jaw tensed up at the sight.

His sister met his gaze with fierce, hateful little eyes.

They were not the wincing little victims that he had hoped to see. They were dogs who still had a bit too much bite left.

It was a true shame he did not yet have the time to see them properly trained.

“..I have some… fires to put out. No doubt that the woman you were travelling with and those four children. But before I go, I must know, ma soer…”

Toussaint kneeled in front of Giselle with a faux smile.

“How did you survive after I pierced your heart? And to somehow become a filthy dark fae, no less? A disease you’ve apparently spread to-”

Yari lunged from her place on the floor and drilled her forehead into the bridge of her brother’s nose.

His head snapped back with a satisfying crunch. Blood dripped from his nostrils onto his radiant white gown, angering him almost as much as the strike.

“You filthy mutt!”

Toussaint lashed out, grabbing a fistful of Yari’s curly dark locks.

Drawing back his fist, he struck her so hard across the jaw that her body flew into the wall, ripping her hair clean out of her scalp.

“YARI!”

Giselle lunged at her brother with her arms still behind her back.

He caught her by her forehead with ease before savagely smashing her head into the stone floor.

Both women lie on the ground, unconscious and unmoving.

Toussaint panted heavily as he looked down at their crumpled bodies.

Anger, pain, and more surprisingly, guilt, could all be seen within the eyes of the elven king.

“Y-You… You made me do that. Why did you make me do that?!”

Toussaint’s breathing gradually became labored.

As he started to get to his feet, he felt a sensation like a pinprick on the back of his neck.

Suddenly the room began to spin.

Toussaint was seized by a feverish state and a not insignificant amount of weakness.

He too soon took a tumble. Though the reason behind it was much more mysterious.

A hard fist struck him in the back of his head, and his mind went dark.

When he awoke, two troublesome things had occurred.

For one, both women were gone without a trace.

Two, the entire palace was starting to rumble, and there was a sword sticking out of his stomach.

–

Solomon pushed Mercy to run faster than he ever had before. Had he been paying attention, he would have no doubt marveled at the fact that she scaled an entire Realm Tree in less than twenty seconds.

With Fury and his siblings cutting loose and laying waste to the army at the base of the tree, Solomon was totally free to act on his own.

As Mercy performed his single largest jump ever, Solomon also lunged off his back; sending him several feet in the air over the palace platform.

With his hammer in one hand, Solomon hurled the weapon at the front doors of the palace, blowing them apart as easily as if they were eggshells.

As dust and debris billowed into the air, Solomon strode inside purposely, his weapons just behind him like lethal bodyguards.

“Yari!”

Solomon’s call shook the entire palace. As he searched for the love of his life, it seemed like the entire place was enduring a dreadful quake.

“Yari!! Yari, I-”

Solomon paused when he saw someone stumbling up a back staircase.

The man was glistening with a sheen of sweat as blood dripped from his torso onto the floor.

Solomon could recognize the man based on the description Yari had given him long ago.

When he saw the man, his soul became as cold as ice as his body boiled like magma.

He stomped forward, his great sword placed into one of his hands.

“Where is Yari…?”

The elven king looked as if he didn’t understand for a moment, but then a knowing smirk appeared on his lips.

“That mischievous little fox must have already run off…” Toussaint’s words were breathless, and there was a slightly slurred note to his speech. “Why don’t we go and find her together?”

Toussaint had spoken in a very old elven royal dialect, so Solomon didn’t understand it.

However, being an asshole was universal. Toussaint’s body language made it abundantly clear that he hadn’t given Solomon an answer that he could be satisfied with.

That only meant violence had gone from a question to a necessity.

Solomon didn’t say a single word as he swung his sword directly at the elf’s midsection.

In an insane display of tenacity, Toussaint ripped the sword out of his stomach and used it to counter Solomon’s weapon.

“I may… be addled, human..! *Huff, huff* “But I still have more than enough to deal with y–”

Solomon’s hammer slammed into Toussaint’s chest, sending him through two walls and into the private garden.

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