Boldwick strode around the encampment like a king among servants—decorated in his regal Armor. All paid their respects and offered him a nod of respect as he stalked through the subway. With the constant siege, that impeccable pillar of strength held them together and stripped away the tension and terse replies. But only for a brief moment.

But as he drifted by, the inevitable wear of the situation would return and sink in. Every few hours, more Knights would return wounded and with damaged Armor.

One of the first lessons of “Scavenging and Armor Modification” was that without proper resources to scavenge and sustained damage, your Armor would eventually fall apart. Their instructor had taught that each place to scavenge wasn’t equal. They could answer the slow decay of Armor and resources by allowing operations into the city from different sewer points. Yet the risk of the silent ones realizing that Knights were getting out and invading their exit was too significant.

It was a marathon to reach the end of the four days before help arrived.

Boldwick did a double take as Erec approached; Olivia was at his side, hovering and making sure he had no trouble.

She was accommodating, and he’d expected to be worse off for all his injuries. Aside from the flares of pain in his shoulder, he found it surprisingly easy to keep going. Maybe it was seeing everyone else rush around and the taste of life and death in the air.

“Erec?” Boldwick said with a mild sense of awe in his voice. “You’re already up?”

“Yes, Sir.” Erec moved his good hand to his chest as he formed a fist to salute the Master Knight, bowing his head.

“Ah,” Boldwick said, his gaze leveling to Olivia. “Initiate Olivia; you may leave him to me and return to your duties. You have my thanks for escorting him here. I’m sure that there’s plenty for you to do.”

“Of course, my pleasure.” Olivia backed away from Erec and dipped a curtsy in her Armor. “May that I see you again soon.” With that, she briskly walked off.

Erec stood a bit awkward, unable to see the expression behind Boldwick’s helmet. Just what was going on in the Master Knight’s head? Around them, Knights shuffled—a new set rushing up the stairway towards the surface as another squad ran down—someone in half broken Armor carried on a makeshift stretcher. Flecks of crimson blood dripped on the dreary concrete stairs.

“Let us move a bit away from those at work. I would have some words.” Sir Boldwick declared before turning on his heel. He didn’t motion for Erec to follow, but he didn’t need to.

With an initiate trailing behind, Boldwick strode a bit down the side of the central platform of the subway—shoving open a door to a small room. It was little better than a small utility closet, stripped aside from a pile of wood and refuse in a far corner. Boldwick removed his helmet and set it in the crook of his elbow as Erec joined him.

Not much room. But enough to face each other, keep out of the way, and have their words not overheard.

“First off,” Boldwick took a deep breath and lowered his head. “I sincerely apologize for putting your life at such risk.”

“I—“

"It was careless and a mistake ill-fitting my station. I misjudged the strength of that man's gun and acted on false assumptions. In retrospect, I could've taken plenty of other options. My choice to capitalize on that opportunity could have resulted in more tragedy, and we're lucky it didn't end worse than it did.”

“…Of course, I’m not angry—the only reason I got grabbed by him is that I couldn’t control myself well enough to stay within the bounds of our allies…” Erec sighed. “That guy was a fucking bastard; he was dragging around some poor girl. Stepped on her hands to punish her and has her hooked on liquor, and Goddess knows what else. Please tell me you tracked him down?”

“No. We found the place his camp was, judging by the burnt-out fire, but there was no one and nothing there.” Boldwick slowly shook his head and frowned. “He had a woman with him?”

“Yeah, he called her Maria and said she was good with tech—don’t quite understand how, considering he treated her like an animal…”

“Deeply disturbing.” Boldwick puffed his chest up. “Rest assured; I do not take such blatant acts against ours lightly, let alone someone threatening the life of one of my apprentices.”

“…I saw Alister. He’s going to pull through, I think.”

His mentor deflated in a moment, looking to his feet. “Yet another of my mistakes. I’d miscalculated the chances of an attack on us. I’d set scouts on the two forces in the wasteland but didn’t foresee a force hidden in the city.” Boldwick slumped slightly and rubbed between his eyes. “Here’s a lesson for you. The more you’re in charge of, the more that rely on you, the bigger you can disappoint them and yourself.”

“I doubt anyone could do better with the information you had, Sir,” Erec replied, unsure what to think. There was a dark cast to Boldwick’s face; his eyes carried a gravity that spoke of years of a heavy burden. “…May I ask something?”

“Granted.” Boldwick looked at the door.

“I want to go into the sewers and investigate. I can’t sit here useless to everyone else.”

“Denied.” Boldwick shook his head. “That man is long gone, and you’re in no shape to fight him.”

“No, it’s not about revenge. Not now, at least. He—he has something of mine, and one day I’ll be taking it back.” Erec felt the flames flicker in his soul; disdain bled into his words. “I’ll tear the basta—“

“Enough. I understand the sentiment.” Boldwick waved it off, yet that same hate echoed in his face. “So, even if it isn’t about revenge, you wish to go into the sewers… why?”

“I already said why. I can’t fight.” Erec started in, looking at his one good arm. “At least… not well, and not without Armor.” It was partially true. But also, there was a lie hidden in there.

Fuck how do I…

He thought of Garin. Of how his friend managed to channel that natural charisma and get away with things he had no right to. All their life, with his father, servants, and even random people off the street—getting treats, getting into places he shouldn’t, getting away with jokes…

“I need to help. I can’t sit around watching other people bleed. What kind of man would I be? I can’t fight well at the moment—but I can pack a punch if I needed to—but I can map out anything you need—help keep an eye out for anything that is prowling—“

“To be young.” Boldwick took a heavy sigh. He started at the heavily wrapped wound on Erec's should that the peculiar gun had caused. “I understand. I have two conditions…” he hesitated. “I was like you once. Like this—“ he gestured to the air.“But you have to remember—there are no such things as heroes, Erec.”

“I know that. You’ve said it plenty enough.”

“Then you understand that sometimes, we must do things to ensure our safety that not all agree with. At times, we must accept a cowardly act.“ Boldwick paused. “Goddess, forgive me. May you forgive me too, but you’re certain you want to do this?”

“I am.”

“Well enough. The only reason I’m allowing it in the first place is by pure necessity; we’re overtaxed. I’ve sent preliminary scouts into the sewers, but our mapping is far from complete. If we find a better exit point, we’ll be better. Unfortunately, with the damages and injuries, and the constant periods of brutal fighting, many of my more powerful Knights are spent above — “ Boldwick shook his head. “I’m trying to justify—but actions speak louder than words…”

Boldwick shuffled over to a pile of wreckage in the room and tossed aside a few blocks of wood. He pulled free Seven-Snakes’ gun.

“Two conditions. The first is that you hang onto this while scouting. It should shore up the power concern I had on sending out initiate scouts if the worst were to occur—and the second is that you take Olivia with you.”

“…If the priests see that, I’m exiled,” Erec said, jaw-dropping as he ran a hand through his hair.

“You can remain in this camp. And heal. I suggest that highly. Though we have not had the resources to explore as much of the sewer as I’d like, we do have an exit plan. This information task is dangerous, especially without Armor.” His tone dropped, slipping into a careful cadence. “But this is a weapon. Not unlike your axe. Only, it doesn’t require much to use. Doesn’t need you to get close. Aim and pull the trigger. You don’t require Armor to fight a monster. And if that man is still hiding somewhere in those sewers, it would do the job.”

Erec stared at the gun—as Boldwick extended it, he saw a crude snake engraved along the side of the barrel. Funny how he hadn’t seen such a thing before when it threatened his life

“There are no heroes. If we want to do something, we’re not strong enough; if our heart demands we must walk a road no matter what, we must protect ourselves by any means necessary.”

“What if Olivia sees it?”

“She works for House Luculentus; out of anyone in this damned kingdom, they are the least likely to burn you over the use of a firearm. Besides, they're more interested in cultivating you as a resource. After we’ve gotten out of Worth safely, you can toss the gun into the desert. I would. But until then…” He paused, seeing Erec’s conflicted expression. “Let's phrase it this way since I don’t think you’re one to protest the practical option—say while we fled this place, one of those stone giants attacked Garin. Your arm is fucked, you don’t have an axe, and you don’t have your Armor. How would it feel to watch helplessly as he died?”

“Heart-wrenching.” Erec narrowed his eyes, already feeling his heart tug.

“From one man who went through such a thing to one of my pupils, I would never have you undergo the same.” He pressed the gun forward. “Take it, and hide it well.”

Erec grabbed the weapon from him—and felt the cold grip in his hand, how light the weapon felt, considering what he’d seen it capable of doing. Or was it—

[Wow. That’s a real slick gun, Buckeroo. Careful you don’t shoot your eye out.]

—yeah, VAL had taken a look at it and seemed impressed. Erec shoved the weapon away in his waistband—the only place he could think of to stash it for now. He gave Boldwick a salute and left the room. The cold metal pressed against his back, a death sentence, but also the one thing that gave him a measure of power with all that was going on.

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