The Last Primal

"I… WILL… KILL YOU!!!!"

The man spewed rage-induced threats and curses towards the masked figure only a dozen or so steps in front of him.

His posture clearly wasn't stable, each step required immense willpower. His legs were wobbling, his body was trembling. He was out of stamina, the only thing that kept pushing him forward was his own pride and madness. 

He refused to go down like this. He refused to accept that what happened today would be the cause of his downfall.

How did it come to this? Why is he failing so spectacularly against this masked wanderer? His opponent barely did a thing, and all his men and even himself were immediately incapacitated. Why… just why?!

After the first step, his contorted facial muscles reformed into a frown, as he tried to withstand the pain and pressure he was continuously feeling. Even just one step felt like a bigger challenge than anything he had done before.

As he raised his left foot for the second step, he almost fell to the right. His right leg was barely holding onto the full weight of his body. He felt like the mail armor he was wearing for protection was like heavy bags filled with sand.

In an effort to ease the difficulty, he shook his left hand and threw the gauntlet to the ground, freeing his hand in the process. Whilst his left foot stomped down, and his body regained his light illusion of stability, he took the weapon from his right hand before he threw the other gauntlet to the dusty ground as well. 

Immediately, albeit most likely just a mirage created by his mind, he felt as if he threw down two huge boulders from his body. He felt a sliver of hope shining through the clouds of despair that settled in his mind.

With a renewed vigor, he lifted his right leg again, and this time, as it clashed against the ground a fraction of a second later, a slight curvature could be even seen at the edges of his lips. He felt that heaven's bestowed this chance, this hope to him. He could enact his 'just' revenge on this heathen, this defier of the natural order!

He continued slowly pacing towards the calm-looking masked stranger, who despite the captain's snail-paced assault, remained cool, nonchalant. He did focus his golden gaze on him, but besides awaiting his arrival, he did nothing to thwart the comical assault.

This… this lack of respect, this lack of wariness did nothing more than to provide even more fuel to Captain Gregory Horst's already crazed madness. He gritted his teeth and reaffirmed his grip on the hilt of his long sword as he took the 6th step and arrived at the halfway mark of his journey.

As his feet touched the ground and stabilized his posture, he slowly raised his weapon-holding arm, pointing the blade at the stranger's mask.

A vicious, contorted grin stretched across the captain's sweat-covered, unshaven dark, dirty face.

"You… You RUINED EVERYTHING! You… You HAVE TO... DIE!!" He shouted the words from the very depths of his grimy, corrupted heart, giving voice to his heart's deepest, purest desire once more.

He slowly raised his sword above his head, ready to strike down. He took one last step closer and swung his blade downwards, using all of his remaining energy, and will to bring forth the end and hopefully a satisfying closure to this drama.

Unfortunately for him, life isn't fair. No matter how hard you wish for something, sometimes, they are just not meant to come to reality. Even though his last strike carried all of himself with it, in reality, it was a weak, powerless blow, a futile attempt.

Not even bothering to block the blow, Aiden simply took a single step to the back, effortlessly evading the captain's last-ditch effort for revenge. As soon as Gregory registered the fact that all of his efforts bore no fruit, and everything he did, his adamant defiance was just a mere joke to this guy, his last struggling strand of consciousness broke apart, and he fell face-first to the ground, right after his swinging arm.

The loud thumping sound as his body hit the dusty road marked the end of their debate.

Giving one last glance at his fainted body, Aiden heaved a sigh under his mask and turned to look at his partners.

"This will be a problem…. We should find an alternate route, Aiden…" Drake, the closest cloaked figure voiced the concern that both men were thinking about.

"Yeah… No matter what happened, he was still a member of the city guard. Unless we want to blow our covers, we should go." Aiden sighed with agreement. 

Remembering the route, they took with his Master before he turned towards the south. Albeit he originally wanted to avoid such an entry, there was nothing they could do now. Galina and even himself had to keep their identities a secret unless they wanted to bring forward even more problems.

Resigning to his fate, Aiden sighed once more before he walked past the crowd and began his slow pace towards the south. Taking only a few steps, he stopped and waved with his right hand, motioning for his companions.

"Come guys, we need a new way in. It's best to not bring even more attention to ourselves."

—

Sometime later, a new batch of guards arrived to check out the scene at the eastern gate after several reports. They were led by a known figure of the City's Investigation Forces, Captain John Deere. He was one of the few reliable figures, that didn't succumb to the pull of money and power. He remained truly just and was determined to always get to the truth of the matters he was assigned to.

Many reported that Captain Gregory Horst, the guard captain and assigned leader of the stationed guards attacked a masked stranger. The reports were quite varied about the supposed reason, some said the captain suspected the figure to be a spy from some of the other nations, while others stated that the captain just assaulted the figure for ruining his investigation of a merchant with their noisy attitude.

Looking at the scene of unconscious guards and even their captain sprawled across the road, John rubbed his bearded chin entering into deep thought. Already experienced with how to begin inspecting each scene, his men were already questioning the long line of people still waiting to be processed and granted entry.

"Deputy!" He exclaimed as he stood above the unconscious body of Captain Gregory Horst.

Answering his call, a thin unarmed man rushed towards the broad-shouldered captain.

"Yes, sir!" He stood at attention.

"What did the spectators say, what happened?" Looking his supposed colleague sprawled out on the ground, John asked.

"Sir! While the questioning is still going on, most reports stated that Captain Gregory Horst and his man was inspecting a cart and sampling some wine when they noticed a commotion in the line." The thin deputy began to recount the tale that they so far managed to piece together.

"From then, we do not know for sure what played out, but in the end, the captain became crazed and ordered his men to surround a cloaked and masked figure. He had two accomplices who also hid their identities that first jumped in to help, but it ultimately proved to be not necessary sir!"

"Why is that, deputy?" Surprised by the report, John asked with an inquiring look on his bearded face.

The thin man gulped loudly as he continued his fragmented recount of the events.

"Unclear currently, sir! We do not know for certain what happened, but most of the reports say that some sort of wind or force appeared and threw all of the guards away. From then on, only the captain stood back up, who just cursed and threatened the always silent masked figure that he will kill him. In the end, he fainted as well."

"I see." Captain John hummed insipidly, his mind was already working in overdrive solving the mystery. A few moments later he turned away from the body and looked at his deputy. 

"Where are these cloaked people then? I don't see them queued up at all."

The thin man's body trembled in fright as his captain looked at him with his usual stern outlook. He gulped audibly as he answered with a meek tone of voice.

"Sir, they have gone towards the south after that. It is currently unclear if they went for the southern gate or somewhere else, sir!"

Captain John heaved a sigh as he listened to the report of his deputy. From his recount of it, and what he had seen and known about this corrupted piece of garbage of a man, it was painfully obvious what had happened. 

This man, Captain Gregory Horst was already known to be a troublemaker, a corrupted individual that operated with bribes and thought of his assigned station as his own territory. He gladly took bribes or looted the caravans and carts under the guise of 'investigation'. 

Still, what was puzzling is that this man wasn't actually an idiot. He had the brains to eventually grow into a leader and be a figure of the underground world. 

Why did he then risk everything and attack in broad daylight? Why did he ruin his life for seemingly no reason?