Half an hour.
Plenty could happen in half an hour.
Inside Marquis Percy's castle, Drayce and his men searched where the Thevailes general took Prince Arlan. There were several guest rooms prepared for the general that was marked in the map given by the Abethan spy, as it seemed the general had the tendency to move about between the castle and the army barracks.
One of their knights who managed to disguise himself as a servant came to them, and Slayer asked, "Where?"
When they made their plans to break into the Barknor Fortress a few hours ago, they had considered various scenarios such as this. Some of the knights who infiltrated inside were meant to become eyes and means for the entire rescue squad to pass timely information about the situation.
The servant-knight guided their way away from the banquet hall. However, as they traveled deeper into the castle, Drayce had noticed that the corridors and hallways were too quiet. One could only hear the merriment of the ordinary soldiers outside. There were no patrols, nor maids and servants around...
Drayce gripped his sword as he said to his men, "Get ready."
Understanding his meaning, the three knights with him became more alert, their swords being slowly unsheathed as they gazed around the place.
As expected, a bunch of Thevailes soldiers came out both from behind and in front of the group. Their swords came out completely from their scabbards, only to get blood on them as soon as the sounds of swords clashing with each other echoed in the hallway.
"Slayer!" Drayce called out his trusted knight's name as he hacked an enemy into two.
"Yes, my lord?" Slayer asked while skillfully dealing with the soldiers. He knew better than to give away his King's identity, but he also could not forgo respecting his liege.
"Go to Arlan," Drayce instructed.
Killing the soldier in front of him with another slash, Slayer left with the servant-soldier who knew where Prince Arlan was. There was no worry on his face. His King was an unrivaled fighter in a kingdom where battle prowess was said to be the strongest in the continent. Although Slayer was his guardian knight in name, with his strength, Drayce Ivanov needed no protection. He trusted his King to deal with everyone as no one could ever beat him.
Drayce's sword continued to slaughter each and everyone coming his way, while other disguised knights too who joined the battle didn't show any mercy on the enemies.
A few enemy soldiers tried to follow Slayer, but Drayce didn't let anyone pass him.
One by one, the soldiers lost their lives in the hands of the infamous devil, the King of Megaris.
--------
When Drayce and his knights left to search for Prince Cian, Arlan had remained inside the banquet hall and continued to deal with the disgustingly perverted general. Each second felt like a year, but he had to maintain his facade of being a courtesan. After emptying a few more glasses of wine, one soldier came to General Giles.
"General! Everything is ready as per your instructions."
Hearing the report, the pig-like general smirked as he looked at Arlan. "And here, our guest is ready too."
Arlan felt like something was fishy with that statement, but he couldn't afford to act recklessly.
"I have made a special arrangement for tonight, just for the two of us,"?General Giles grinned.
"Whatever it is, I'll make sure the arrangement will be more than worth it," Arlan replied, his red lips curved into a coyly pleasant smile.
"It's hard to wait to taste such beauty." The general's lusty eyes glowed with intense delight as if he could not wait to wipe off the confidence in Arlan's smile. "Shall we leave?"
Arlan stood up. "I dare not refuse you, General Giles."
The general emptied the leftover wine in his glass and stood up. The soldier guided their way out as the two walked behind him.
"I will make sure you will never forget this night," the general commented as they passed through the corridors.
"I look forward to it," Arlan replied calmly, but through his side vision, he kept taking note of the surroundings. His eyes didn't fail to capture something, but he continued walking quietly.
Arlan had seen the map from the Abethan spy, and judging from the twists and turns they had to take, he realized they were headed towards one of the largest guest rooms on the left-wing of the castle. They soon reached the end of the hallway and found themselves in front of a huge, nicely-carved wooden door.
The soldier accompanying them opened the door and stepped aside as he said, "General!"
General Giles looked at Arlan and signaled with his hand like a gentleman asking his guest to go inside first. Arlan did so, and the general followed him. The soldier closed the door, and the next moment, swords came out from their scabbards.
Shwing!
General Giles, who stood near the closed door, had his sword pointed towards Arlan, who had the same fighting posture. Both men stood pointing their swords towards each other's throats as evil smirks painted their lips.
Arlan had a short sword which he covertly hid under his blue robe. As the scabbard was tied to his leg, the short sword was easy to be drawn through the side slit of his long robe.
"Prince Arlan Cromwell!" General Giles greeted as he chuckled lightly. The pig-like man gazed at him like a predator who just captured his prey.
Arlan scoffed, "Suddenly, my own name felt disgusting after hearing it from you."
"On the other hand, I would love to hear my own name from your pretty mouth. Calling for me, begging me..." The general's gaze passed across the beautiful skin on Arlan's exposed neck. "And trust me, I will give you more of such opportunities."
"Oh, after I am done with you, I guess I can spare some time to sing a song with your name in it, about how you can't even have a complete corpse and a funeral," Arlan laughed. Although he looked relaxed, his mind remained alert to deal with any move from the general.
While the two exchanged vicious pleasantries, they continued to move inside the room in a circle with light and careful footsteps. Their swords remained pointed at each other, ready to attack and counter attack at a moment's notice.