#アルバイン・アルム・ルドルフ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gentleoverdrive · 2 years ago

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(Mind the tags; if you don't wish to read it on AO3, you can read it after the cut)

Rodan

“Pick up your lance.” Those horrible words rumbled through the ears of the disgraced Zofian General in ways he had not quite expected them to. With his body aching as a result of his unsuccessful attempt at breaking his fall adding to the particularly stinging pain of the arrow that managed to lodge itself on his right shoulder, Slayde felt a sense of familiarity at his current dilemma. While in his youth he had prided himself in the dexterity of his lance thrust, his time in the Order of Zofian Knights had made him realize it was just as important to develop his wile. “You have grown much in this past year, Alm.” The retort at his current adversary drove him to try and conceal his current mien as he tried to get back to his feet. “Quite the impressive road you’ve walked.”

‘Play this smart, and you shall survive to see another day’ He was good at surviving, after all, and while he was often thought of in many unkind ways by his peers, Slayde himself couldn't care less if he tried. Whatever it takes to survive. Finally being able to firmly hold his lance within his hand, he tried to keep his mind single-mindedly focused on getting back up. “I see that both the teachings and ideals of Old Master Mycen and the connections you’ve forged with those at the top of the Deliverance have served you well. And that, perhaps, I was most misguided in following Desaix’s lead and abscond from my land of birth” The months following him turning coat to survive after being left to die by his now defunct co-conspirator, he had kept up to date with the talk of the spymasters across Valentia, especially concerning the bloody path the Deliverance had carved across Western Zofia and much of the Rigelian mainland. “And as such, I would like to follow the same path as you and see how far said assets can take you.” He had heard tales of the impulsive nature that governs the boy standing above him. This… boy that was paraded as a leader of any sort, least of all an invading army; once he gets through this, Slayde will be certain to mock Clive and Mathilda for the sheer gall of selling this fairy tale over this boy’s corpse. Or was this perhaps an idea by that backwater idiot with delusions of eloquence that had threatened him in the past? Now that he was finally able to grip his lance properly and fully stand back up, battered body and all, Slayde found his words had successfully made purchase within the boy’s mind. So Slayde had to hold himself back from any expression that could betray the trust of his newest victim and pantomimed as sincere a welcoming grin as he could manage. “What say you, Alm? My sources can prove most helpful now that you are soon to come face to face with Emperor Rudolf and his personal guard.” He could almost feel the bile come up to his throat as he belted that empty platitude, not helped by the warm smile that this so-called Leader of the Deliverance shot back at him, but he knew it was best to be wise and hold back whatever disgust in order to survive. “I would say you drive a good bargain!” And there it was: His survival secured, once again. With the country bumpkin masquerading as a Zofian knight slinging his bow back to the quiver on his back and offering his right hand so that they could shake to their new alliance, Slayde could only wonder where he would find the appropriate time to sell this idiotic child and the rest of the cadre of idiots leading the Deliverance to the Rigelian high command. It was almost risible how easy it was. "G...g'hrrrrrk!!"! Perhaps all too easy.

It did not take long for Slayde to feel the agony that quickly came to seize his right side while the emerald-haired young man standing in front of him drove the small sword further into his body. Now with both the bile and the blood slowly oozing out of his mouth, Slayde grew all too aware that Alm’s visage had changed from warm and reassuring to his green eyes piercing daggers right through him. Finally undoing the handshake, the younger man slapped Slayde’s lance away from his hand before grabbing his shoulder to pull him down. “You were not the only one doing their research, you vermin.” Slayde could feel both his face contort in disgust and his eyes becoming bloodshot after hearing Alm insult him to his very face. “Do you remember the royal villa?” The query took some time for Slayde to fully interpret, on account of the searing pain being further amplified when the leader of the Deliverance pulled the sword out of his side. “Do you remember this sword?” On seeing the hilt of the sword that Alm shoved in front of his eyes, the score finally sank: All these years, all his scheming, manipulation, subterfuge and betrayals had meant nothing to him, for as long as he survived, that was all that mattered. At the reminder regarding two of his past endeavors and with the young general shoving him away, the rhetorical sluice gate finally burst, and Slayde puked out some of the blood he had inadvertently kept lidded.

“D-D-DHEAAMNNN… DAMNNNNN YOUUUUU!!”

Not that long after he cursed the boy he had come to despise so thoroughly, the last sight that the former Zofian general came to lay his eyes on was the azure and emerald-colored flash of an armored frame bearing down on him, same sword in hand. ...

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