“Lord Mahad!” The High Priest in question looked up
from his scroll to see a panicked looking noble, “It’s the Pharaoh! He’s…”
There was a loud explosion from outside, causing
Mahad to rush over to a balcony. As the smoke cleared, he saw the Pharaoh, who was
protecting Mana and looked like she was nursing an injury. She had summoned an armored
knight of some kind and was facing down three men and three huge beasts. The
guards who were supposed to be protecting the pair were sprawled all over the
courtyard, unconscious or worse.
Mahad called his personal Ka beast forth and sent it
down to help the Pharaoh, before racing out of the room and shooting down the
stairs, reaching the courtyard in time to see his Magus of Illusion and the
Pharaoh’s warrior take down the last of the men, leaving him conscious to
answer questions.
“Who sent you?” The Pharaoh was demanding as Mahad
joined her, her breathing rough and uneven, causing concern.
The man just spat at her, earning himself a punch
from Mahad.
“I would answer his questions.” Mahad recommended,
even as he wanted to punch the man’s lights out, “Because if I have to ask the
dungeon keepers to get it out of you, you won’t survive it.”
“I’m not afraid of you. Or your torturers.” The
failure of an assassin snorted, “And it won’t matter for long anyway.”
“What do you…” Mahad was cut off by a groan from the
Pharaoh. Mana caught her as her legs gave out underneath her, her hand falling
away from the wound as she passed out to reveal a dark purple vein like pattern
spreading out from the still bleeding injury. “Poison!”
“Check him.” Mana snapped as the man chuckled
vindictively, “A smart assassin keeps the antidote on them, just in case they
get anything on them.”
Later Mahad would wonder how Mana knew that, but he
didn’t waste the time now. Instead he moved to counter the man’s struggles as he
tried to prevent Mahad searching him. It didn’t take the High Priest long to
find a sealed clay jar with a liquid inside. “Is this it?” Mahad demanded as
Mana tended to the Pharaoh as best she could.
“Is that what?” The merc smirked at Mahad, only to
get a fist to his jaw.
“The antidote!” Mahad snarled, “Is this it?”
“Why would I tell you even if it was?” The
mercenary asked, still grinning, “I’m dead any way you slice it and this way I
take the target with…” The man stiffened and shut up as Seth, who had taken on
the Millennium Rod just that morning stepped into the courtyard and took
control of the man’s mind.
“Mahad?” Seth demanded, concerned as he beheld the
scene.
“Is this the antidote?” Mahad asked the man again.
“Yes. You have to ingest it.” Seth forced him to
answer. That was enough for the holder of the Millennium Ring, who cracked open
the jar and tipped some into the Pharaoh’s mouth. He had to help her swallow
but the moment she had her breathing evened out a little and the purple veins
seemed to start receding.
“Who sent you?” Mana asked the man, knowing that
Seth would force him to answer honestly.
“I was paid by a woman named Ba-Khu-Ra.”
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