Chapter 425: The sixth person (1/2)
As Hephas' partners jumped to attention at the approaching party, the man smiled and visibly relaxed his shoulders after only a few short moments.
Unlike Ovid, Mikol, and Lyno, who have already long forgotten the group of greenhorns, he, who literally spent the whole day thinking and worrying about their safety, could vividly remember and match the particular signals.
However, just a moment later, just before his friends could question his strange aloof behavior, he himself suddenly turned stiff. Shortly after the group stepped inside the range of his sensing, another life sign entered shortly after them.
This one felt much more defined, having more depth, more experience to it. Although he couldn't confirm what or who he or she was, it was obvious that a) he was in a rather disheveled, chaotic state based on the chaotic pulses, and b) the entity was much older than the others, somewhere around the decade range of himself, someone in his forties.
Still, although his life signs were much more defined and stronger than the youngsters', it also showed signs of not being at its peak. As if he went through something rather trying, challenging even.
His body went stiff for a moment, several theories quickly assaulted his already spent and weary mind.
He tightened his grip on his weapon, as his face went cold, he turned towards the underlying darkness beyond the grated gate.
”Get ready boys. They are coming.” He muttered coldly, for which the rest of the group of guards reacted in a similar manner and entered their uniformed battle stance.
The moments passed torturously slow for Hephas and the rest as they focused their [Battle Senses] on the slowly but steadily approaching group. As they got closer, the others also could make out the differences between the group. The group of youngsters, two animals, and then a sixth individual in a rather bedraggled state.
They watched the gate while following the approaching party's route. Their swords held tightly in their hands, their faces radiating a cold sternness, ready to react at the first, tiniest signs of aggression. Although they all had now an idea who the party probably was, the presence of the unknown sixth person, caused their welcome to sour.
After all, somehow that was dragged out from the spew and mucus, the dredges of the underground, couldn't be a light-hearted, positive figure, but someone that had ties to either the horrors that claimed home in that vile space or, and this was what they all feared the most, a member from the rumored neighboring empire's invasion force.
A spy, an agent, a general, an elite combatant? Whoever it was, if it turned out to be the truth, it would spell a dreary tale for the upcoming War Games. It would mean that the nasty gossips and drunkard tales about a possible attack during the event would turn out to be true, spelling the beginnings of a disaster that none were ready to face.
Hephas and his friends could only hope that their worst fears would remain in the land of dreams and imaginations and wouldn't step out from the corner in a few more seconds. The best they could do is to cling to this hope no matter how futile, how hopeless this may turn out to be.
Soon, their party's signals reached the corner just a bit beyond the gate where a sharp left turn shrouded the rest of the city dungeon from the prying eyes. The sounds of pitter-patter, the emerging footsteps of the party of youths have reached their ears, causing a wave of shiver to run through Hephas' group of four and force them to stand at an extreme vigilance.
Even without any intercourse, any clash happening as of yet, sweats began to perspire under the last rays of the setting sun, their focus and minds were at an all-time high today.
Ovid, being closest to the gate, took a step to the side, stepping out of the immediate vision of the band. Whilst keeping his right hand raised in front of his chest and ready to strike at a moment's notice, he slowly, shakily reached for the gate with his left.