"I have news to tell you, General. The time has come to serve me in my great plan."

"What are you talking about? Had you been staying in this pit for too long?"

"Mock me if you will, but it is I who decides matters on this lair."

††

Gray as the one who lords over this lair.

This pair of riflemen who led Cecil out of the cell had more bulk than the ones who guarded the prison; perhaps the Gray Fox still prepared for the possibility of him attempting to break out of the facility by assigning two men who can actually resist his bid to flee. A couple of clicks confirmed that the manacles mounted on his arms were locked; the heavy metal chains attached to them suggested that they were used for large animals, like cattle.

It was exactly how he was feeling.

Out of the prison, Cecil was brought to the halls. New lamps were mounted on what were aged columns. Some of the bedrock that was part of the original cavern peeked from the beams that held the ceiling. He ignored one of the guards' attempts to make him walk faster; the chain would straighten up every now and then, but Cecil's arms just wouldn't allow him to be dragged around. His jailor eventually stopped yanking the binds; the general's built was just too much.

It was the first time Cecil paid attention to the entrails of the Gray Fox's lair. Steel girders and pillars took much of the burden from what seemed to be columns cut from the same rock as the rest of the caverns. He recalled much of the history of these caves from the books he read during his youth; he was walking inside an underground fortress that protected men of a distant era.

This place was known to the Eastern men as the "Green Hell": a network of tunnels constructed by the first emperor of Kriemreich to protect the cities north of the Antikwald. Enemy formations lost themselves to the depths of the forest, only to be encircled and then destroyed by the hidden soldiers of the First Empire. If a tunnel were to be compromised, its occupants destroyed certain halls that connected a hideout to the rest of the network. Attempts to burn the forest to smoke out hidden troops were done by the invading armies, but the old wood learned ways on how to combat fire, and those who carried them. Never did he realize that parts of this old system still stood even after the Army vacated the tunnels. Cecil did not realize that the crime lord knew of this all along, and decided to put these forgotten systems to use. Nobody would have thought that the tunnels were largely intact until today.

Much of the walls were smoothed out by time; Cecil found scratches that could have been writings of old. Men who occupied these very halls centuries ago might have found the time to carve their messages while waiting for their orders. Large doors must have marked each passage, but they were now replaced by mechanical iron portals that opened and closed at someone's presence in front of it. The Gray Fox still held his respect towards these tunnels, seeing that many of the old symbols and scrawling scattered on its walls were left untouched. Two more guards flanked the general on their way to a steel-ribbed door that was larger and heavier than the others that he and his escort passed by. It opened to a wide chamber encircled by twelve pillars inside.

The place had a ceiling almost four times Cecil's height. It was left bare, deprived of any other color aside from that of the bedrock it was cut out of. Its builders tried to make a dome, but only a shallow concave ceiling came out of the attempt. A part of the room that resembled a closed balcony was carved out on the other side; there was enough space for five people to stand side-by-side. The general guessed this could have been a courtroom or a tribunal chamber where people were made to stand before a panel that stood above them. This may have also been a site of executions judging by how wide the area was. He could smell the damp air inside, which seemed to be supplied by the flooring. He noticed the green light on top of the balcony section change to red; the droning of machines split the sections of the wall in two. Out came two riflemen followed by a familiar face sporting a graying laboratory coat.

"Here we are, General." The crime lord approached the near end of the balcony, where he bent and stared at the prisoner. "We have all been waiting for this: you will know your purpose here, and I shall make it happen. But first, I would suggest you pick a weapon of choice."

It was odd. The crime lord wanted to arm his prisoner. Was the Gray Fox becoming delusional, or was he too confident that he had an answer to anything Cecil could throw at him? This was the crime lord's lair, after all. Two men appeared from the doorway where he came and pulled out a rack of various swords and shields. Cecil didn't take too long to pick up a two-handed sword and a heater shield from the selection. He also made it a point to take a shorter sword and wear it on his side.

"Were you supposed to break me before bringing me here?" Cecil glanced at the reflection made by the broadsword's blade before he slashed into space. "Maybe you are too confident that you can do so now."

"Not quite, and I know for a fact that sending my men to beat you down will even work in your favor." The Gray Fox went leftward and grasped on what seemed to be a wall-mounted control panel. "It is a miracle that you never tried to escape."

"I have to repay your hospitality somehow, and that is by learning more about how you operate here."

"And I did not fall short, General. Regardless, you will serve me a greater purpose at the end of this."

Something from the Gray Fox's controls made a clicking sound; the large gate at the other side of the chamber opened. Wrenching metal echoed all over the place until it made a clanking halt. Five men, all were armed with blades of various sizes and lengths emerged from the portal; what Cecil noticed was a glowing red object above their eyes.

"I didn't know that you enjoyed watching gladiator matches. Are you preparing yourself to replace the Emperor this early?"

"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you, General. Your enemies are those in front of you."

The warriors ran around the room in an attempt to encircle the commander. One from the right made the first strike, which was promptly blocked and pushed back by Cecil's sword. He managed to catch the attacker by the eye. Veins ran red all over his eyes, and the general also noticed that this network of bluish-green was also seen on the man's muscles. Empty stares scanned Cecil as they lay in wait, taking a step or two on the sides as if looking for an opening.

"What is this 'great plan' that you have been talking about, Gray Fox? Is it to have me die fighting your warriors? They seem to be somewhat out of shape."

There was no answer from the observers. Those who were fighting him began to make attempts to break his defense. One lunged to be batted away by the shield, and another went for Cecil's lower left but the slash was driven off by his sword. Cecil took steps back; with each time making his attackers face his shield and get driven back by his technique. He was making progress, slowly working his way out of the encirclement by merely frustrating attempts to strike at him from all directions. He locked his sword with one of the attacker's blades; he felt the weapon quivering in the warrior's grip. Cecil was staring at a face emptied of will, as if this fighter was not moving on its own volition. In front of the general was a mouth that seemed affixed to a gape; drool flowed out whenever the body wanted to produce a random groan. Cecil broke the lock by spinning the sword down upwards. The fighter still did not lose grip of his weapon, which prompted the general to kick him farther to the other side of the chamber. Rubber screeched against the ground before the opposing fighter got back on his feet.

All five of them ceased their attacks; only their eyes followed the general's movement. There was a shrill sound that shot out of their headpieces; the glow of the red crystals became brighter. Two of the men held their heads and screamed before they resumed their fighting stances. Cecil managed to hear snatches of what sounded like the Gray Fox's instructions to the other men who were with him.

"Intensify focus... change their tactics..."

It did not take long for the general to find out the true nature of these people he was battling with.

"These men. You've turned them into mindless monsters!"

"It took you time to realize that, General? I must have made the mistake of locking you up for too long." The Gray Fox stepped on the edge of the railings to look at him. "You see, I haven't considered using these tools out in the field. They have to be tested first. What better person can gauge their strength than you, Hero of the Sword?"

"You..."

One of the five leaped to the ceiling in an attempt to drive his weapon through Cecil's head. He managed to stop the attack with his shield, but the point pierced through it. Cecil pulled the shield close enough for his sword to chuck the impaled blade; the weapon snapped in two when his broadsword hammered it. The attacker's knees buckled at the power of his sword-arm, giving the general enough time to strike back with the flat of his sword. A scream was let out after the force of the blow wrenched the circlet off his head; blood trailed on the floor when the attacker was sent flying to the wall. He laid flat; his arms and legs flailed their last.

The attacks from the remaining four were faster than before; each man zipped to and fro with their weapons attempting to slice Cecil from the front and rear. He could not defend himself from all angles; blood from the gashes on his arms and legs flowed and stained his clothes. Scrapes and stings began plaguing his back in his attempt to escape what was now a whirlwind of metal.

"They'll bleed me white if I can't find an opening..."

No. This was not the time to face death. He couldn't tarnish the clan's legacy dying in the clutches of a mad organization such as the Gray Fox's. Failing here was not an option. He had to go home.

The four were everywhere; their guttural cries echoed inside the halls. He would find himself staring at a red floor if this continued. A silver light flashed before his face; he was staring at an arm-mounted blade that was about to pierce his head.

Cecil would not allow it to happen.

He struck with his shield, which connected to the second attacker's body; the blow threw the fighter off-course, causing him to tumble and roll to the floor. A third fighter came from behind, only to the stabbed by the general's massive blade. Cecil hammered the skewered body on the fourth man coming from the right; the impact splattered bright scarlet blots to the air. He wrenched the sword out of the corpse to finish off the remaining fighters when he heard the Gray Fox's voice trying to come on top of the violence.

"Stop the tests! We cannot lose another prototype."

Men hiding behind the upper reaches of the chamber's pillars came in sight, aiming crossbow-like contraptions at Cecil. The bolts whirred after they were loosed; their tips opened as four-pronged claws on their way to the general. They clamped on Cecil's skin, sending surges of electricity all over his body.

"Your tricks... will not stop me." He felt his body numbing to the current, but his drive still had enough control to draw the second sword from his waist. "I will... finish..."

He let out a scream that expressed nothing but rage. It shall all end here; this sword will fly from his hand and put an end to the Gray Fox once and for all. Sparks shot out into the air when his sword sliced through one of the bolts, cutting the cable that led to the weapon's wielder. Cecil dropped his shield and took hold of the second bolt that tried to bind him; his strength was more than enough to yank the second gunman out of hiding and fling him right where the Gray Fox was standing. One of the crime lord's aides jumped towards his leader and pushed him out of harm's way; more sparks erupted from the audience box followed by a shaking scream when the gunman's weapon was destroyed after colliding with the wall.

The Gray Fox certainly wouldn't let this end here - an unfitting death in the hands of one of his test subjects. A short barrel emerged from his left arm and let loose a projectile; a puff of smoke went out along with the sound of blasted air forced out of the crime lord's gun-arm. Out of the weapon spun a black, rounded disc that tried to make it to the general's chest, only to be swatted away by the flat of his sword. He raised the blade; its tip facing the Gray Fox who was yet to get off the floor.

A shot rang from the other side of the hall; a slender, long dart was lodged at the general's back. Cecil tried to grab it, but something was causing his muscles to lax; his bulk was kneeling without his control.

Cecil's hands rested on the floor; his lips quivered in an attempt to speak. What was left of his thoughts only registered in short whimpers. The halls around him grew darker; he could barely see the patterns on the walls or even smell the blood rushing out of the wounds that tear his skin anew. Everything became muffled as if the world around him was being compressed in a void.

He would miss Agnes and Euphemia for sure, now that the illusion of death coming for him was reaching out to a degree of his reality.

Was this his fate? To die at the hands of a man who couldn't fight his own battles? A flicker of hope flashed before him; the faces of his wife and daughter smiling upon his return. He wanted to feel the sea air of his native city caress his cheeks; the scents of heavy air, bread, meat and ale riding along with it. No, this was not his time to die. After this, he had to bring Agnes and Euphemia under his embrace, never to let go. He could not do that now, but this should not be the end of his exploits. Not until he got what he came for – he had gone too far to end up empty-handed.

His eyes tried to retain focus at the structure above; his strength ebbing away due to what toxin was contained in that hateful dart. What his sight last registered was a man with a glowing green eye throwing his rifle away and rushing towards a wide-eyed Gray Fox. His head bowed after all his vitality was taken out of him. Cecil von Schild was taken down on his knees; only his massive arms stopped him from doubling over.