Chapter 33 - Conviction

The Violet Knight.

A name synonymous with courage and strength, within the Dumbaran Camp, which now stood fast within the first gate. 

Amidst the preparations to move again, with time not on their side and the Defiled still lurking beneath the Master's nose, this name had spread like wildfire.

A Knight born in the strife of the Western Flanks desperate fight against the Defiled Tyrant that lead the night hordes, battling it to a stand still, and beating back the swarm.

...It was strange.

Within the old kingdom, there were few Knights among the Dumbaran bloodlines, which usually consisted of talented mages.

Even soldiers, who had not awakened to a discipline, were more magically attuned than anything else, their minds favoring logic.

Yet, not only had a Knight appeared among them, but, one that sat squarely near the Mid-Rank.

It was very strange.

Murphy looked up. The room was full of different faces, all of which he recognized. He had personally brought them here, after all.

Karl, Raul, Red, Lucian.

They were sat, eyes glued to the floor.

He turned his sight back down at the unconscious knight.

He recognized him as well. The man who had been with the girl when he caught her, he was certain of this much. One of the Heroes party. But he could also tell there was a thick presence of dumbaran blood in his veins.

He was perhaps a noble of their kingdom, and he had come down, and saved the lives of his kinsmen, to the point of awakening in that critical moment for them.

Why was he with the Hero? 

And was he useful towards their cause.

Was he an ally, or an enemy?

"Again." Murphy shut his eyes. He wanted to hear it again. The story of how he came to infiltrate them.

He had not seen such thick Dumbaran Blood since the betrayal at Lagos where that damned house turned coat and destroyed their defensive line in the center, the last resting place of the Crown Prince, slain at the hands of the bastard queen.

"...I first found him, when I was looking for bandages, for the soldiers. He was inside of a pipe severely injured. I helped him. He said that he was looking for his daughter."

Red was kneeling on the ground, her forehead against the floor and her hands tied behind her back. Sweat trickled down her body like a flood.

She couldn't lie to him. And even if she could, she didn't have the nerve to try. As much as she didn't want to turn her back on Argo, who had saved her, she knew that lying would achieve nothing.

She had seen Master Murphy's despise for traitors, cowards and oath breakers.

It was special even amongst all of the Liberation Army.

Till this day, she shouldn't shake the sight of him slaughtering one of the few High-Rank Mages in the army when they had failed to take the Hero the first time, and had ran back to camp, crying out excuses.

What he did to that woman... was far from kind.

"He said that he was of Dumbaran descent. That he was betrayed by the Giant's, when he was coming down to look for her. And that all he wants is his daughter safe." 

Lucian listened to all of this in complete silence. If he could, he didn't even want to be privy to this information, though now that he was, he couldn't help but be awe struck.

A man fighting against the odds to find his daughter, and even awakening as a Knight at a critical point.

His daughter, was his heart. Of this, he could have no doubt, especially after hearing the story.

...He grit his teeth.

Argo had saved his life twice, in that short time.

He failed to save Gart, yet he was still alive, it was a shame and guilt that ran down his bones. He couldn't help but look at himself, as a living dead.

At the very least, he would put this worthless life up, to plead for Argo with Master Murphy, if it came down to it.

Argo had already become a legend among the men and women serving here.

Mason, Mark and Johan were guarding outside, alongside the rest of the western force, they were waiting to hear the good news.

The mages were hovering about, watching and waiting, though not as enthusiastically as the soldiers, but, they wanted to know as well.

Everyone was waiting on the good news and praying against the bad.

Lucian wasn't sure what would happen, if they had to endure more bad news, when they were already in the midst of burying their dead in foreign soil.

Murphy peered at the unconscious soldier below. A thought had occurred to him, and with it, his lips moved, "Leave." 

At his words, Lucian hesitated, but Red, stood up immediately. Raul and Karl shared a look and left.

They didn't have a great stake in this, but they were going to talk to Red about this immediately. They were meant to be a cohort who have each others backs in every situation.

To conceal something like this, was beyond a breaking of trust. It was a direct betrayal.

Murphy didn't move his gaze even as they left, and the peeking's of light flooded the tent momentarily.

Argo opened his eyes, and stared up at the master without moving. 

"Did she lie?" Murphy turned his head, underneath his words was a soundless whisper which cast an impenetrable sound proof barrier.

Simply the weight of the tethering's of magic within the tent, and the corrupt nature of his mana, were enough to cause Argo's head to feel a drumming inside.

The power of a Master's Magic was beyond just the effect, but lied within it's creation as well, as though staring into an abyss with no end, or like staring into a fire. One is drawn in quickly, if not careful.

But, Argo had long prepared himself for this moment, from the second he had woken up, nearly a half hour ago. He had been building his mind up, for this confrontation, and was able to keep his cool under the ambient power.

Argo turned his gaze to the ceiling of the tent, his body felt completely blasted, and his mouth was sand dry, he lifted himself up on the bed against the utter indifference of those eyes, he replied, "No." 

Murphy's eyes glinted. Something that Argo was quick to catch, but he couldn't decipher quickly. 

Argo could feel the tetherings of magic undulating. He wasn't certain that it was a spell, or if it was, what it did, but he had a good feeling that if he lied, then, he would be subject to whatever punishment would come.

He couldn't keep being questioned. 

He needed to take the lead of the conversation.

"I won't join the Liberation Army. But it's not for having anything against you. In a different position, I would have stood by your side," Argo stared dead ahead, he could feel the pain of the scars on his body, growing, "I lost my father in the war. And I've fought tirelessly to build this life. I know how dangerous war is and I won't risk her future for my own wishes." 

The tethering of magic did not shift.

Murphy turned his head.

He had met men like this before. T

hose that fought for that which they believed in.

Men of honor, whose swords were raised with valor. 

Knights of Dumbar. 

His heart beat once.

Once upon a time, he had looked up to the knights of the palace, when he was but a junior mage, serving under the Court Magician.

They were the noblest people in all of Dumbar. Standing head and shoulders above all adversity, and battling till the last for their convictions, they were the bleeding heart of the nation, the first line of defense against anything that would threaten the people.

And they had been crucified at the stake for them.

Murphy shut his eyes. He did not want to forget that memory, not matter how much it plagued him.

The Fall of Lagos had been a tragedy beyond tragedies. 

The Imperial Legion had surrounded them from all sides. They were ripe with bloodthirst. No one would survive, if they were to break through.

To facilitate the civilians escape, they had stayed behind, and in doing so he was one of the few privileged enough to witness the last moments of the Dumbaran Order.

And this young man, reeked of that very Dumbaran Order, his eyes were unshaken in the face of a Master, who was clearly hostile, and had stuck to his convictions even knowing that the truth could lead to his death.

He instead chose to face it down, no matter the cost. 

...He did not want to disrespect the memory of the Knights who died at Lagos, who had lifted their heads against the bastard Queen doing the same.

Her surmised that the daughter he was speaking of, was the girl they had here, and that she was an adopted daughter, due to her age versus his, that he had picked up during his travels.

But often times, ties born from choice, were stronger than those of blood.

"Swear on your daughters life, that you will stand with us, until the Hero is captured." 

Murphy watched him closely. 

The Knights of the Dumbaran Order did not hesitate to defend the nation and her people, suffering in silence and dying without complaint.

If he was truly the echo of such a magnificent order, a man who bore the same light that came spilling out from their very history, then, there would be no hesitation.

He examined him completely, using his means.

Any second thoughts, would mean, he was nothing but a cheap imitation, a match before the sun.

"I swear on my life, and hers, that I will not fail." 

But there were none.

Murphy had searched closely, for any reason to kill him on the spot.

He didn't want to join them and he had that conviction set in stone, that much he didn't need magic to see.

Someone with the possibility of becoming a Master was too valuable to let walk.

He knew in his heart, that letting such a person go, who was so similiar to the old order, was a great loss for the Liberation Army, but...

...he could not bring himself, to do it. 

To snuff out this light, that seemed to shine from the depths of Dumbar's long history.

Perhaps he had grown emotional with old age, but, even if his mind told him to remove this possible threat, he could not let go of the idea, that one day, that brilliant order of knights might come back.

A grim reminder of everything they had lost, and all that he was trying to get back. 

"You will go first into the Heroes location. There you will find a way to lure her out into the open, to be caught. Once that is done, I will send you off with your daughter. Do you understand?"

If he failed to uphold his end of the bargain, then, even if it meant profaning his own oath, and crushing that light of the Order, he would do it.

Whatever it took…

His eyes shone with the force of death, a devastating withering effect radiated from them.

...For the sake of Dumbar.