Lone: The Wanderer [Rewrite] - Book 2: Chapter 25: Felix's Regrets and Honour Duel

Book 2: Chapter 25: Felix’s Regrets and Honour Duel

Felix Morstone frowned in his office after having just seen Lone Immortus off. He was, quite honestly, getting rather tired of these morning meetings that to him, were entirely pointless. ‘Yet again, nothing of substance…’

He reached into one of his desk’s many drawers and pulled out a bronze flask. Uncorking it and letting the fiery content within flow down his throat, he heaved a sigh.

“Why does the council think it tae be so wise tae waste ma time with ‘at deluded fox?” he grumbled under his breath in his natural accent.

It had been weeks since Lone Immortus’s first visit and not a drop of progress had been made into discovering why people and buildings in the krieg were going missing only to come back… hollower.

He was half-convinced one of his rivals on the council was putting him up to this to waste his time and make a fool of him. That suspicion only lasted until the grand council involved itself into Krieg Moor’s matters, ordering him personally to note down everything the Golden Foxkin reported and relay it to them.

“Golden Foxkin… Golden Foxkin…” Felix chuckled as he felt his head getting lighter along with his mood. “A powerful and rare race… Is ‘at why they think ‘e ‘as anything ah worth in ‘at empty ‘ead ah ‘is? Maybe they want tae entertain the bastard an’ learn the secrets ah ‘is people? Scheming cunts, every one of ‘um.”

He scoffed and chugged some more of his personal brew. “Load ah horse piss. Boy’s crazier than Ol’ Grumshoe.”

Grumshoe was a local dwarven mage. A rare breed, dwarves who practised the arcane arts. Suffice to say, Grumshoe was not the stablest of people and was often used as a deterrent to younger dwarves who had an interest in magic.

Felix leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He almost fell asleep before catching himself. ‘No matter what way nor ‘ow ah’m takin’ ah fall, arenae ah?’

Not a moment later the door to his office cracked open and a grey-bearded old dwarf gave him a funny look. “Stress drinkin’ again, Morstone? Fookin’ ‘ell, lad. Get yerself ah wife. Even an ‘usband would dae if it stops this pish.”

“E-Elder Ambergreen… Can ah help ye somehow?” Felix asked in a bit of a panic.

Of all the people to see him like this, the leading figure of all of Krieg Moor’s council just had to be the one. This was dreadful for two reasons; one, it meant Elder Ambergreen saw this side of him… again, and two, the elder of Krieg Moor’s council wouldn’t be seeing him for a petty reason. That didn’t bode very well.

With an exhale of disappointed air, Elder Ambergreen invoked a skill, “Detoxification.”

A wave of utility magic and mana flowed from the elder’s extended palm straight into Felix’s body, cleansing him from top-to-bottom.

While specific magics and specialised mages were looked down upon by the dwarven people in general, there were exceptions. Utility magic being one, advanced steamforging being another.

“‘At’s a wee bit bett’r,” the old man said as he stroked his beard and nodded. “The company ah miner’s who took on the quest ya posted, they’re back.”

“The Black Iron Company ‘ave returned?” Felix asked with some joy in his tone. “Ah, also, thank ye fae the, uh, ‘elp, Elder Ambergreen.”

The Black Iron Company were a very famous group of dwarven adventurers born and raised in Krieg Moor itself, making them a bit of a home icon. Their tales were legends here and their strength was a goal for all young dwarves.

In only a short 154-years, they’d become one of the few thousands of groups on the entire continent out of millions to become gold-ranked in The Adventurer’s Guild – a feat worthy of endless praise.

If they had returned, that meant only one thing; success. Felix had been promised personally by Ewan McStuderson himself. As the company’s leader, founder, and strongest A-ranker, Ewan’s word was golden and never once had he lied. At least, that was the myth.

It was one of the largest reasons why the group was so respected. Everyone aimed to be like Ewan or wanted to join the company out of respect for him.

Elder Ambergreen wore a tired look. “The company’s back but… only one member.”

Felix’s face completely fell. “Why? What happened?!”

“Calm down, lad. What’s done is done. ye gettin’ riled up’ll ‘elp naeone. The boy’s name is Hamish. Ah ken, I’m, ye ken ‘im. ‘E’s refusin’ tae explain why ‘e’s alone, demandin’ tae talk only tea ye. Says ‘e ‘as ah request,” the elder answered. “Can ah leave it in yer ‘ands, lad?”

Felix nodded seriously. “Of course. Ah- the council will get to the bottom of this, ah swear on the Stone.”

Elder Ambergreen smiled. “Good lad.” He turned to leave before stopping, seeming to remember something. “Ah catch ya poundin’ the hooch again outside oh ah pub, lad, an’ ah’ll pound yer feckin’ heed again yer desk. Ah’m ah clear?”

“Clear as the Stone, S-Sir,” Felix stuttered.

“Good,” Elder Ambergreen grunted before leaving.

“Hamish, ah take it? Ye look like ye’ve been tae ‘ell an’ back,” Felix said as he welcomed the renowned B-ranker into his office.

Hamish was covered in grime and small bits of stone. He smelled like sin itself and the look in his eyes gave Felix a bit of a chill. While intimidated, he was also deeply in awe of one of his idols being in his presence.

The young dwarven adventurer didn’t respond as he remained standing despite the gestures from Felix to take a seat.

“Um… Ye mentioned tae ma superior that ye ‘ave ah request, aye?” Felix asked with a warm smile, trying to defuse whatever tension there was in the air.

At that, Hamish finally seemed to notice Felix past burning holes into his eyes. “The person who got ye’s tae post the request. The foxkin. Tell me ‘is name an’ where tae find ‘im.”

Felix’s smile cracked. “‘Is name is public information, so o’ course. It’s Lone Immortus. Ah cannae tell ye where ‘e is though, nae where ‘e lives either. That’s private an’ it would be ah crime fae me tae divulge such ah thing. Ye ken this. Please dinnae put me in an awkward position.”

Hamish creased his brow in anger. He approached Felix’s desk and very slowly placed a palm atop it. The stone of the piece of furniture cracked beneath his open hand. “Tell. Me. Where. ‘At. Fookin’. Fox. Is. Now!”

Felix felt his entire skeleton rattle, so fierce was the intent pushed behind each word and that shout at the end of Hamish’s sentence.

“W-Why are y-ye doing this? Was the qu-quest nae successful? Did ye nae find the u-urd? The request stated ye an’ The Black Iron Company would be c-compensated if it turn’d oot tae be ah fool’s errand,” Felix explained with ragged breath as sweat dripped down his entire body.

He’d never been so afraid for his well-being in his entire life. He honestly didn’t even believe the words he had spoken. There was no way it was a fool’s errand.

If it was a resounding success and Urd Grun had been safely located and secured, he wouldn’t be talking to Hamish right now. The Black Iron Company would be celebrating and he’d have just gotten a simple report from the guild.

If there was nothing to be found, Ewan McStuderson wouldn’t have come back to the krieg for another month or two. Only then would he have come demanding more information or for it to be clear if Lone Immortus had bamboozled them all.

Felix knew damn well what it meant for him to be talking to Hamish right now, he just refused to accept it. At least, he did so until Hamish made it painfully clear to him what had happened in no uncertain terms.

“Oh, it wasnae any fool’s errand, awright!” Hamish laughed mockingly. “Feckin’ place exists, aye. Right ol’ chipper urd anaw, ale an’ whores tae spread aplenty, eh? Folk in wee Urd Grun werenae expectin’ guests! Welcomed us wae open arms, ‘ey did!”

A serious aura of grief and rage overcame the adventurer. “A whole feckin’ gaggle of Balor Demon Bat hordes attacked us fae the front an’ we were ambushed by over 40 Milor fae the rear. Ah was the only survivor, ordered tae run like a feckin’ rat by Ewan. Ah’ll have ma justice, one way or anoother.”

Felix couldn’t breathe. he felt like a claw was clutching at his neck, draining the very life out of him. He was certain he was a sturdy man with unshakable morals but… he broke. “The… Rusty Sprocket on-“

“Ah ken the place,” Hamish interrupted before dispelling the massive cloud of negative emotions that was pouring out of his B-ranked aura.

He then suddenly vanished after muttering a skill’s name Felix didn’t catch.

Collapsing into his chair, the councilman held his head in his palms. He had no words to say to justify his actions, even if only to himself. The only thing he had right now was tears to shed for a multitude of reasons.

‘He’s getting sicker and sicker every day,’ Lone thought as he walked down the streets of the krieg.

His thoughts lingered on his teacher and mentor, Steamforger Wilbur. The man’s health had become so bad that he’d been forced to send Lone home early today since he almost collapsed mid-demonstration of his personal steamforging technique.

What bothered Lone the most was that Wilbur seemed perfectly content with dying. He knew that was natural. Fear of death was most typical in the youthful.

Older people were usually wise enough to know that when it was time, it was time. The old dwarf had seen a millennium come and go and he was wiser than anyone Lone had ever met before.

Hell, he’d been dying for decades, still, it put a great burden on Lone’s heart since he respected the man so much so that he wanted to help in some way, despite knowing such intentions were unwelcome.

Lone shook his head as he pushed open the door to the Rusty Sprocket, having just arrived back at the inn.

Since Lone couldn’t spend the afternoon learning more steamforging as planned, he intended to retire to his and Soph’s room to add an entry to his diary and then rest a bit before going to the guild. His plan was to get in some swordspear practice once there and maybe take a simple errand quest to fill up his day.

Sadly, the second he stepped through the door, those plans seemed to vanish as a voice entered his ears.

“There ye ‘re. ‘Ard tae miss ye wae all those tails, eh?” The voice wasn’t friendly, and powerful energy radiated off its owner, flooding the inn’s lobby, immediately threatened to suffocate Lone.

A man strolled up to the foxkin with a powerful aura on full-blast. “Ye ‘ave ah lot tae pay fae, Fox.”

The dwarf cracked his neck and approached Lone before suddenly smashing his fist into Lone’s kneecap, pulverising it and forcing him to the ground.

Lone winced in pain and shock, though mostly just shock due to his monstrous Physical Pain Resistance. ‘Who the fuck is this and why the fuck is he attacking me?’

He was seriously considering killing the man outright with Mental Destruction but Lone felt context was sorely needed. The last thing he wanted to do was murder a powerful man when, from his understanding, none of this should be happening.

‘I need more info,’ Lone thought as he struggled through the man’s overwhelming aura to grasp his profusely bleeding leg. ‘I’ve never wronged this man before. I’ve never even seen him before. Clearly, there’s been a misunderstanding of some sort, but of wh-‘

Lone’s frantic thoughts were cut short by a powerful punch to the side of his head, knocking him out cold.

Lone was surprised to have not woken up in Urd Grun for once. Instead, he seemed to be in a training arena of the local guildhall.

His skull felt bruised, unsurprisingly enough and his vision was a little hazy but he’d been in this training area often enough to instantly recognise it.

Glancing around, Lone saw plenty of dwarves and adventurers looking at him with disdain and ill-intent. They surrounded him and his attacker in a large circle.

His attacker’s expression was filled with rage and resentment as he spoke, “Finally awake, ah see. Ah officially challenge ye tae ah duel tae the death, foxkin Lone Immortus. On the ‘onour o’ ma company, ah’ll nae rest ’til ah see the life leave yer body. Yer lies ‘ave claim’d enuff victims.”

Lone was beyond confused at this point. “Lies? Duel to the death? What the fuck is going on?”

“Babble all ya wan’. Get up. Ah’ll nae kill ah defenceless man, scum as ‘e may be,” Hamish spat out viciously.

At this point, Lone’s leg had been completely healed but his mind was still in a state of complete disarray. He had no idea why this dwarf was doing what he was doing, but he wouldn’t just take it lying down.

“You won’t fight a defenceless man? Is that so? You’re still being a shameless bastard for two reasons. One, not telling me why you hate me as if I fucked your wife and two, I’m a D-ranker. I may as well be a baby since you’re a B-ranker or above given the fact you can squash me with your aura alone,” Lone fired back as he got on his feet and glared at the man easily two feet shorter than himself.

Lone had experienced many auras before back in Milindo and there was no way in hell this guy was a C-ranker. His aura oozed confidence and raw power. It was nothing like the pathetic wisps of energy Daisuke had used against him, that was for sure.

The dwarf’s body rumbled. “Ye dinnae ken, dae ya?! Need me tae spell it oot fae ye?! Ye’r lies tae the council got all ah ma friends… ma family killed by monsters! Ah’ll nae rest until they’ve ‘ad their vengeance!”

Realisation immediately swept over Lone. “… Urd Grun…”

“Noo ya ken? Draw yer weapon, Fox! It’ll be the last chance ye ‘ave tae defend yerself. ‘Onour demands ah give ye the chance, but ah’ll break the codes if ye’r ah coward on top o’ ah deceivin’ murderer!” Hamish yelled.