Willem stood at the second-floor window of his study, his fingers curled around the velvet drapes that he had yanked open only moments earlier, he stared out into the courtyard where flames roared from the stable roof in a column that lit the night sky orange. The screams of his sellswords carried clearly through the night. He pressed his forehead against the wall and watched a cloaked figure stride across the gravel with a sword in hand, the blade catching the firelight as the man moved straight toward the house without hesitation.
"No, no, no, no," Willem whimpered, his voice rising into a childish whine that cracked on every syllable. He spun away from the window, clutching at his hair with both hands while he stumbled backward into the room. "The stable is on fire! Alll the men are dead! They're all burning! Someone is coming toward the house! Do something, you useless idiots!"
Lunk, who had been lifting the iron-bound safe onto his shoulder at the far end of the room, turned slowly, the massive weight balanced easily despite the strain in his thick arms, and he blinked at Willem with confusion written across his broad face. Karl lounged against the doorframe, a fresh cup of wine in his hand, and he glanced out the window with mild interest before he rolled his eyes.
"It is probably the kid," Karl said with a bored expression
Willem went feral at that, his face contorting as he whirled on Karl and shrieked like a petulant child. "That little bastard Arthur! You told me he was dead! You swore it! You said you stabbed him in the gut and left him bleeding in an alley, you lying, useless, cock-sucking whoreson!"
Karl's expression did not change. He took another slow sip of wine while Willem advanced on him, spit flying from his lips as the curses poured out. "You incompetent dung-eater! You brainless sack of piss! I paid you good coin to handle that farm boy, and you couldn't even finish the job properly! Everything is ruined because of you, you stupid, lazy, pox-ridden—"
Karl's fist moved almost lazily. It cracked against Willem's nose with a wet crunch that cut the tirade short. Willem staggered back, hands flying to his face as blood streamed between his fingers, and he crumpled to the carpet with a high, shocked wail.
"Stop being such a woman," Karl said, still deadpan as he shook out his hand. "Stay here. Try not to bleed on the rugs. Boys, go greet our guest while I get things ready here." He jerked his head at Lunk and the two remaining guards who had been hauling crates near the door. Lunk set the safe down with a careful thud, his brow furrowed deeper as he looked between the sobbing Willem and Karl's unmoved face. The guards exchanged uneasy glances but fell in behind lunk without a word.
Karl paused at the threshold, looking back once at Willem who lay curled on the floor clutching his nose and whimpering. "If the boy reaches this room," Karl said, "scream louder. Maybe he'll confuse you for his bitch wife."
____________________________________
Arthur slipped through the servants' entrance at the rear of the manse, easing the door shut behind him with a soft click that barely made a sound. The kitchen stretched before him, a long room lit only by the dying embers in the massive hearth and a single candle stub that flickered on a preparation table. Copper pots hung from hooks above the central island, and crates stood half-packed along the walls, lids askew where servants had abandoned their work in haste.
He moved forward on silent feet, his sword held im his hands, eyes scanning every shadow between the tables and the rows of hanging herbs that still gave off faint scents of rosemary and thyme. No one stirred. Plates lay scattered where someone had dropped them, a broken wine bottle leaked red across the flagstones, and a single carving knife glinted on the floor beside an overturned stool. Whoever had been here had fled or hidden.
He crossed the kitchen in a crouch, pausing at each doorway to listen, then continued further into the house through a narrow corridor that servants used, and stepped over a fallen tapestry that had been yanked from its rod in the rush to pack. A sudden scuffle of feet behind him was the only warning. Arthur spun just as a heavyset man in a stained apron burst from behind the pantry door, a heavy cleaver raised high in both hands. The man's eyes were wide with terror and fury, he brought the blade down in a chop that would have split Arthur's skull had he not twisted aside at the last instant. The cleaver buried itself in the wooden counter with a thud that sent splinters flying.
Arthur avoided the next two swings by stepping inside the man's reach, letting the heavy blade whistle past his ear, then drove his fist into the cook's soft stomach. The man doubled over with a whoosh of expelled air, and Arthur brought the hilt of Sunset down hard across the back of his skull. The cook dropped like a sack of grain, cleaver clattering away across the tiles.
Arthur stood over him, chest rising and falling quickly. "Crazy bastard," he muttered, nudging the unconscious man with his boot to be sure he stayed down before he retrieved the cleaver and set it out of reach.
He left the kitchen through the swinging door that led to the main house, emerging into a wide hallway lined with empty niches where statues and vases had stood only hours earlier. "Mira!" he called. "Mira, it's me! Where are you?"
No one replied. Only the distant crackle of the burning stable and the muffled shouts of men outside answered him. Arthur moved deeper, strainibg every sense he had to stop any ambushes. He passed a drawing room with furniture shoved against the walls and rugs rolled like logs, then a library where books lay scattered as though someone had swept entire shelves into crates without care. Still no sign of life.
He stepped into the dining hall next, a long chamber dominated by a massive oak table that could seat thirty. The chandelier above had been lowered and its candles removed, leaving only moonlight from tall windows to illuminate the space. Arthur stopped in the center of the room, turning slowly while his boots echoed on the polished floor.
"Willem!" he shouted. "Show yourself! I know you're here. Give me Mira back, and maybe I let you live."
Silence answered him. Arthur's grip tightened until his knuckles ached. "Come out, you cowardly piece of shit!" he roared, kicking a chair so hard it skidded across the room and slammed into the far wall. "You took everything from me! You sold me like meat, you stole my wife from me, you kept her prisoner! Face me!"
Still nothing. Frustration boiled in his chest. He turned to leave, intending to search the upper floors, and walked straight into a wall of muscle that had not been there a heartbeat earlier. He must've snuck up on him when he had been shouting, what an idiot he was.
Lunk filled the doorway, his massive frame blocking the exit completely, shoulders almost touching both sides of the frame. His simple face carried no anger, only a kind of sadness, his huge hands opened and closed at his sides.
"Arthur is bad man," Lunk said slowly. "Boss say stop you."
Before Arthur could bring Sunset up, Lunk lunged. One enormous hand clamped around Arthur's sword wrist, the other seized the front of his tunic, and the giant lifted him clean off the floor as though he weighed nothing. Arthur kicked at the giant, bis boots hitting uselessly against Lunk's thighs, but the giant simply turned and hurled him across the room.
He flew through the air and crashed onto the dining table with a splintering crack that buckled the oak table beneath him. Plates and goblets that someone had forgotten to pack shattered under his back, and Sunset spun from his grip to clatter across the floor far out of reach. Pain flared along his spine and ribs, but he rolled instinctively, coming up in a crouch on the tabletop while Lunk advanced towards him.
Arthur scrambled off the table while pain shot through his back from the impact, and he lunged for Sunset where it had skidded across the floor near the hearth. His fingers brushed the hilt, but Lunk was already upon him, the giant's long arms reaching out as he grabbed Arthur by the collar of his cloak with one hand and the belt at his waist with the other. Lunk lifted him again, muscles bulging under his tunic as he swung Arthur in a wide arc and hurled him toward the far wall, the force sending him crashing through a side door that led to a pantry. Shelves collapsed under Arthur's weight, jars shattering around him in a cascade of glass and preserved fruits that spilled across the floor, he rolled to a stop amid the debris with the breath knocked from his lungs.
"Lunk, stop!" Arthur gasped as he pushed to his knees, his hand fumbling for the dagger at his belt while he tried to catch his breath. "You do not have to do this. Willem is not your friend, he uses you, twists you for his own ends. Remember Alys? She raised you, loved you like her own. She wanted me to find you, to bring you back."
Lunk paused in the doorway, his massive frame filling the frame completely, and he tilted his head with confusion furrowing his brow. "You a liar! Boss good," he said slowly. "Boss give food, give work. Alys... Alys want me go with Boss. Boss friend."
Arthur drew the dagger and circled to the side, keeping the overturned shelves between them as he searched for an opening. "No, Lunk, Alys did not want that," he said,. "Willem tricked her, just like he tricks everyone. He is evil, he hurts people, kills them. Come with me, and we can go back to her together."
Lunk shook his head, his fists clenching at his sides. "No trick. Boss say you bad. You hurt Boss."
Before Arthur could reply, Lunk charged, his boots cracking the fallen jars as he closed the distance in two strides. Arthur slashed with the dagger, aiming for Lunk's arm, but the giant batted it aside with a sweep of his hand that sent the blade skittering into the corner. Lunk's other fist came down like a hammer, clipping Arthur's shoulder and driving him to one knee with a grunt of pain. Arthur rolled away, pulling a blinding pouch from his belt, and hurled it at Lunk's face. The pouch burst on impact, white powder exploding in a cloud that coated Lunk's eyes and nose.
Lunk roared, pawing at his face while tears streamed down his cheeks, but he lashed out blindly and caught Arthur's arm in a vise grip. He yanked the dagger free from Arthur's fingers with his free hand, the blade bending slightly under the pressure before he tossed it aside like a toy. "Bad man!" Lunk bellowed, kicking out with one massive boot that connected with Arthur's chest and sent him flying backward through the pantry wall, wood splintering as he tumbled into the adjacent hallway.
Arthur coughed, tasting blood as he sprawled on the rug, and he pushed himself up on shaking arms while spots danced in his vision. "Lunk... listen to me," he said. "Willem lies. He took me from my wife, sold me like meat. He does the same to others. Do not let him use you anymore."
Lunk blinked through the powder, his eyes red and streaming, but he shook his head again. "Boss no lie. Boss say Alys happy. You lie. You bad."
Arthur retreated up the main staircase, his back to the banister as he looked back down, but Lunk followed relentlessly, each step creaking the wood under his weight. In the upstairs landing, Arthur activated Demon Back, his muscles locking into alignment that surged power through his limbs, and he punched Lunk in the gut with all his strength. The blow landed solidly, yet Lunk only grunted and swung a backhand that Arthur ducked under before countering with another punch to the ribs. Arthur leapt onto Lunk's broad back, legs locking around the thick waist while he jammed a sleeping poultice from his pocket against the giant's mouth and nose.
Lunk thrashed, huge hands reaching back to grab whatever they could. One caught Arthur's tunic, the other his hair, and the giant spun, smashing Arthur against the wall hard enough to crack plaster again. Arthur lost his grip and flew across the room and into the wall. Arthur gasped, sliding down, but he rolled away as Lunk's foot stomped where his head had been. "Think about it, Lunk," he said between breaths. "Willem beats you, calls you names. Alys never did that. She loves you. Come back with me."
Lunk hesitated for a split second, his face twisting in confusion. "Alys... love. But Boss say stay. Boss friend."
Before Arthur could press, Lunk grabbed him by the front of his tunic and lifted him high, then threw him into the banister. Wood splintered under the force, and Arthur crashed through before he caught himself on the railing, pain lancing through his side where a splinter had gouged him.
He reached into his pocket and threw the remaining caltrops in front of him as Lunk approached, the iron spikes clattering across the floor. Lunk stepped right into them, his boot crunching down on several at once, and he screamed in pain and anger, hopping on one foot while blood welled from the punctures. "Hurt!" he bellowed, tears mixing with the powder residue on his face.
Arthur used the moment to scramble up, but Lunk charged anyway, and tackled him through the railing entirely. They both plummeted from the second floor, crashing onto the ground floor below in a heap of broken wood and tangled limbs. Arthur screamed as his leg twisted under him, the impact jarring every bone, but he pushed up limping, favoring his left side.
Lunk grabbed him by the ankle before he could retreat, yanking him back with a pull that dragged him across the floor. "No run!" Lunk shouted, wrapping his hands around Arthur's neck and squeezing with thumbs that pressed like iron bars.
Arthur's vision blurred, his head pounding as if it might burst from the pressure, but he grabbed Lunk's thumbs with both hands and wrenched them backward with a sickening snap. Lunk cried out in pain, releasing his grip as he cradled his broken fingers and stumbled back.
Arthur slammed both feet into Lunk's chest, the kick pushing the giant onto his back where he tripped over debris and fell hard. Arthur rolled backward then, unsheathing the net gun he had made from the spring-loaded trap rigged to a handheld frame, and fired it at Lunk. The net exploded outward, wrapping the giant in cords that tangled his limbs and pinned him to the ground.
Lunk panicked, thrashing wildly as he tried to tear free, his cries turning to sobs. "No! Let go! Hurt!"
Arthur limped forward, pulling the sleeping poultice from his belt, a cloth soaked in a mixture of herbs that induced deep slumber, and clamped it over Lunk's mouth and nose. Lunk's struggles weakened after a few breaths, his eyes rolling back as he slumped unconscious amid the net. Arthur then staggered into the dining room, retrieving Sunset from where it had fallen earlier, and dropped into the nearest chair to rest for a moment, his breaths coming in ragged gasps while pain throbbed through his body from head to toe.
His sword arm ached worst of all, the muscles pulled taut from the repeated throws and the crash through the railing, he flexed his fingers experimentally only to wince as sharpness lanced from elbow to wrist. He pushed himself up slowly, leaning on the table's edge for support while he sheathed Sunset temporarily at his hip, he then made his way through the debris toward the main staircase that led to the upper floors where Willem likely kept his private quarters.
As he walked, Arthur felt splinters embedded in his skin from the shattered wood, small barbs that dug into his forearms and the back of his hand where he had shielded his face during the tumble. He paused at the foot of the stairs, pulling a few out with his fingernails. His sword arm protested every movement, the joint swelling already, but he tore a strip of leather from the hem of his spare pouch and wrapped it around his palm and the hilt of Sunset once he drew it again. He tied the leather tight with his teeth and free hand, binding the sword to his grip so that even if his fingers failed, the blade would not slip away.
His will was set now, a resolve that burned hotter than the pain, and only death would break it.
He walked up the stairs again carefully despite the limp in his left leg from where it had twisted under him, and he kept Sunset in a raised guard while his eyes scanned the landing above. Someone like Willem, who lorded over others from his counting house, would live at the top of his manse, far from the servants and those he saw himself as above.
He reached the top of the stairs, the corridor stretching before him with doors lining both sides. Wood creaked suddenly under his boot, the floorboard giving way enough to make a sound, and then the twang of a crossbow string snapped from the shadows at the end of the hall. Arthur dived to the side without thinking, tucking his shoulder as he hit the rug and rolled behind a half-packed crate that stood against the wall. The bolt whistled past where his chest had been a heartbeat earlier and buried itself in the opposite paneling with a thud that splintered the wood.
He peered around the crate's edge, spotting two men at the corridor's far end near a set of double doors that likely led to Willem's chambers. One held a crossbow, already cranking the windlass to reload, while the other gripped a sword in one hand and a round shield in the other.
They saw that the bolt had not killed him, the crossbowman cursing under his breath as he fitted another bolt. The swordsman charged forward with the shield raised high. Arthur waited until the man closed half the distance, then burst from cover with Sunset leading. The swordsman thrust his shield forward in a bash meant to stagger, but Arthur sidestepped and brought his blade down in a two-handed chop that the man caught on the shield's rim, the impact jarring up Arthur's arms and making his injured elbow scream. Arthur pivoted, using Water Dancing Style's footwork to circle behind, but the swordsman spun with him and slashed horizontally, forcing Arthur to parry with a clang that vibrated through his bound hand.
The crossbowman loosed again, the bolt streaking toward Arthur's flank, but Arthur activated twisted away just in time, the projectile grazing his cloak and embedding in the wall. He charged the crossbowman now, leaving the swordsman a step behind, the crossbowman dropped his weapon to draw a short sword from his belt. Arthur feinted high with Sunset, drawing the parry, then kicked the man's knee with a crunch that buckled the leg. The crossbowman howled and swung wildly, but Arthur deflected it and thrust into his gut, twisting the blade before yanking it free.
The swordsman caught up then, his shield slamming into Arthur's side and driving him against the wall with a force that cracked wood. Pain flared despite Novacaine, and Arthur gasped as the man pressed the advantage with a downward stab. Arthur shoved off the wall with his free hand, using Shibukawa-ryū to redirect the thrust past his hip, and countered with a punch to the throat that made the swordsman gag. The man recovered quickly, bashing again with the shield, but Arthur dropped down and hit his knee, tripping the swordsman onto his back.
Arthur pounced, but the swordsman rolled and came up swinging, the blade nicking Arthur's thigh as he dodged. Blood welled up but Arthur ignored it and pressed with a series of Falling Star Style slashes, switching to one-handed to push with his off-hand and open the guard. The swordsman blocked frantically, his shield splintering under the blows, but Arthur feinted left before thrusting right, the point slipping past the rim and into the man's shoulder. The swordsman grunted, dropping the shield, and Arthur finished with a horizontal cut across the chest that dropped him gurgling to the floor.
Arthur stood over the bodies, his breath heaving, his thigh burning where the cut seeped through his trousers. He limped to the double doors, but pain shot through his sword arm again from the repeated impacts, and he leaned against the frame for a second to catch his breath.
No matter what happened he would end this tonight.
(AN: Last chapter at Willems Manse next chapter I promise. I just don't really wanna do 9k chapters for this story. I wanna stick to 3k for this story as it's basically just one of my fun relaxing ones to do. Anyway hope you enjoyed.)
Support for more.
Patreon.com/captainalfie78works