Avocadalia's Las Hope

11.Another Day to Fight

“Very well, then let us begin,” said Mok as he emerged from his hiding place with elegance. With swift movements, he unfurled his knives in a fluid arc, forming a spinning bar that struck one of the guards, knocking him down instantly. The second guard, alerted to the danger, attempted to draw his sword to face the butler. But before he could complete the motion, Mok had already unsheathed his own blade and, with a precise slash, left the man incapacitated.

Meloc, an unwilling witness to the scene, froze in panic. His body trembled as he watched the intruders move with lethal precision. Finally, unable to bear the tension, he collapsed unconscious onto the floor, a victim of the overwhelming fear gripping him.

Elsewhere in the palace, a deep and authoritative voice echoed through the halls.

“Tertrol! Tertrol!”

The call was insistent, but there was no response. The voice rose again, this time laden with irritation.

“TERTROL!”

Suddenly, a furious face appeared projected on a nearby wall: it was Tejod, his expression radiating pure wrath. His eyes burned like embers as he glared at Tertrol lounging peacefully on his bed.

“Why don’t you answer me?” roared Tejod.

An electric discharge shot across the room, striking Tertrol’s bed. He jolted upright, startled.

“I’m sorry, Master! A thousand apologies! I was deeply asleep…” he stammered, trying to regain composure.

“You’re awake now,” replied Tejod with icy sarcasm.

Tertrol sprang to his feet immediately and approached the floating hologram, bowing slightly.

“Well then, Master, what is the reason for your summons? Does it have something to do with our dark lord?” he asked, attempting to sound both respectful and confident.

Tejod glared at him, looking as though flames might burst from his face at any moment.

“Fool! Do you think I lack ears where you are? How dare you nearly endanger the boy! You cannot touch him until he secures what the Lord has requested. And another thing… why did you ask for the claw of an Oboros? What are you planning? Are you trying to betray me?”

The suspicion in Tejod’s voice was unmistakable, and his furrowed brow conveyed an implicit threat.

Tertrol dropped to his knees, displaying absolute submission.

“Master, I am one of your most loyal servants. I would never do anything to offend you or usurp your position. I am eternally grateful for the magic you have bestowed upon me.”

“You’d better be,” snapped Tejod. “If you betray me, I will strip you of every privilege I’ve given you and drain every shred of power from your wretched body.”

A shiver ran down Tertrol’s spine, but he managed to keep his composure.

“I understand perfectly, Master. I only brought the claw of that beast to forge a weapon that could aid us in future battles. It would be capable of annihilating many enemies in a single blow.”

Tejod raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Interesting… Tell me more. And I hope it’s the truth.”

Tertrol pulled out carefully drawn plans and showed them to Tejod.

“Fascinating…” murmured Tejod after examining them. “This could be very useful. I approve. But next time you withhold information from me, you will pay the consequences. And remember: do not interfere with the prince. Ensure he finds what I need. Understood?”

Tertrol lowered his head in a gesture of obedience.

“As you command, my lord.”

The hologram of Tejod slowly faded, leaving Tertrol alone in the room. As soon as it vanished, the servant clenched his fists with barely contained rage.

“Damn you, Tejod… Just wait until I gather the ingredients for my weapon. When the time comes, I’ll finish you,” Tertrol muttered under his breath.

He paused for a moment, lost in thought.

“He didn’t even ask about the prince’s companions or other details… That Tejod never lets anyone else speak…”

Meanwhile, in the "ROOM," a voice could be heard asking insistently:

“What happened? Where am I?”

“Well, well, it looks like the mad scientist is awake,” said Golden mockingly. Meloc, however, could see nothing; a bag covered his head, plunging him into total darkness.

“Who are you people? Why can’t I see?” asked Meloc, his trembling voice betraying his fear.

“That’s what you deserve—and much more,” Paltio interjected coldly. Then, turning to the group, he added, “We’ll take these prisoners with us, and you stay here.”

The young man clenched his fists, furious at the suffering of the captives.

Meloc, attempting to regain some semblance of control, reassured himself:

“You sound like a child. Do you really think you can intimidate me? I am a powerful scientist of the Blue Shadows. Let me go, or my boss will come for me any moment now! That’ll scare you all into releasing me,” he thought.

Golden exchanged a glance with Paltio before responding:

“If someone comes for you, they’ll end up facing us too. Whoever it is will learn what it means to obey Lord Tertrol.”

“Golden, I told you not to read minds,” Paltio scolded, though his tone lacked real conviction.

“It’s necessary with this lunatic,” Golden retorted, shrugging. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. A moment later, he spat out disdainfully:

“What a filthy mind you have, rat.”

“What did you find?” Paltio asked.

“Well, regarding that part about someone coming for him… It’s not true,” Golden replied confidently.

“What a relief,” Alita sighed.

“But he’s building a destructive machine that could endanger everything,” Golden continued, his expression hardening. “A machine capable of wiping out entire realms.”

“A weapon? What kind of weapon?” Mok interrupted, frowning.

“I couldn’t see much; his mind was strong. But this business of ‘re-educating’ using machines from this place is just the tip of the iceberg. There’s something bigger behind all this, lurking in the shadows.”

Mok stroked his chin, deep in thought.

“Damn… This is worse than I imagined.”

Paltio stepped forward, his face reflecting a mix of anger and determination.

“Fine, then you’re useless to us. Perhaps the people you’ve harmed should take justice into their own hands—starting with you.”

Mok quickly intervened, placing himself between Paltio and Meloc.

“Master Paltio, don’t let hatred consume you. You are a prince and must act diplomatically. Remember the lessons we taught you, and those of your parents.”

Paltio hesitated, Mok’s words echoing in his mind. After a few seconds of silence, he finally spoke:

“I’ll let justice run its course.”

Meloc, still bound, screamed desperately:

“Agh! I won’t forget your name, Paltio! When I’m free, you’ll be at my mercy!”

Ron, one of those present, suggested:

“Well, let’s lock him in one of these cells, hooked up to one of his own machines. Maybe that’ll teach him a lesson.”

“No, no! I’ll tell you everything you want to know! Trust me!” Meloc pleaded, his high-pitched voice betraying the panic gripping him.

However, the people near Paltio had already lunged at the humanoid scientist. They strapped him into one of the machines as he screamed frantically. Suddenly, the screaming stopped, and his gaze went blank, as if his soul had been ripped from his body.

“What a terrifying machine…” Alita murmured, hugging herself tightly.

“Yes, you’re right,” agreed one of the liberated prisoners.

The other prisoners approached Paltio and his group, bowing slightly in gratitude.

“Thank you for saving us,” they said in unison.

Paltio remained silent, his eyes fixed on the machine and the now-silent Meloc. He was torn between the satisfaction of having helped the innocent and the uncertainty of whether he had acted correctly. Mok’s words echoed in his mind, reminding him of who he was supposed to be.

“We should find Avocios as soon as possible,” Golden suggested seriously, crossing his arms.

“And can you do that?” Paltio asked, eyeing him curiously.

Golden shook his head.

“I haven’t tried, but there seems to be a block preventing me from contacting him. However, I believe that if we find the pieces of the scepter, we’ll have a chance of locating him.”

“Alright, then let’s do that,” Mok, Alita, Ron, and Paltio agreed in unison.

“It’s best we leave this place, meow,” said Toco-Toco, peeking out from Paltio’s shoulder.

“Yes, you’re right,” the prince responded, nodding.

Everyone slowly boarded the elevator until they were finally outside the facility. Once outside, Paltio addressed the citizens of Hassdalia they had freed.

“Well, this is goodbye,” he said firmly, though his tone carried a hint of sadness.

One of the citizens, who stood out from the rest due to his bearing and presence, stepped forward. He was slightly shorter than Mok, with almost crystalline green eyes and a long gray beard. His voice was deep when he spoke: “Thank you for saving my people. My name is Madeus, Madeus the Mage General.”

“A pleasure, General,” Paltio indicated, and Mok followed suit.

“It’s better if you leave, as I mentioned, General. We have a mission to complete here,” Prince Paltio stated.

The mage general looked at him in surprise.

“Thank you, Prince Paltio, but we cannot leave without freeing our people or our king,” the Hassdalian added.

At that moment, Golden emerged from Paltio’s seed, shining brightly in his golden armor as a hologram. Everyone was left awestruck by his appearance.

“What is that?” some murmured, astonished.

Golden smirked smugly.

“I wish I could be as radiant as our god Avocios, but no, I am Golden, one of his servants. And listen to the boy: he is the prince of Avocadolia, who is searching for Avocios and what remains of his power in the Magical Scepter.”

General Madeus bowed his head in respect.

“So you are the prince… from the place where our god resides. Forgive my insolence,” he said, kneeling.

“Relax, it’s not necessary,” Paltio replied, uncomfortable but trying to maintain composure.

Ron, always the most straightforward member of the group, couldn’t contain himself:

“You can’t miss it—he’s the only one who’s different from the rest! He’s golden!” he exclaimed, pointing enthusiastically at Golden.

Alita, quick as ever, immediately silenced him, covering his mouth with her hand while shooting him a warning glare.

“Shh! Quiet, you fool—don’t be insolent,” she whispered sharply, piercing him with her gaze.

Ron shrank back slightly, embarrassed, but nodded silently as Alita removed her hand.

Paltio stepped in, positioning himself beside them.

“But they’re right about one thing: you must leave this place. Seek refuge and recover. Live to fight another day—don’t waste your lives on something futile. They have an immense army, but later we can join forces to save everyone.”

“Wise words, boy,” said Golden.

From a corner, Mok watched proudly.

“I’m proud of how you spoke, Master. Worthy of royalty,” he murmured to himself.

The man, now introduced as the mage general Madeus, nodded with determination.

“Very well, I’ll take you at your word, boy. It’s time for us to go. I know of a safe place.”

Before departing, Madeus handed Paltio a small, shiny white conch shell.

“What is this?” the prince asked, examining it curiously.

“This will keep us in contact, young prince. I hope you succeed in your mission. Now, out here, my magic is returning, and I’ll be able to shield what remains of my people. Though there are more in the dungeon… well, they’re not treated as poorly there as they are here. I hope they hold on,” Madeus said, his voice heavy with both hope and concern.

A magical cloud enveloped Madeus and the citizens, slowly fading away into the horizon.

Paltio glanced at the watch on his wrist and sighed.

“Well, it’s time to head back. This thing is almost changing,” he said, referring to the device he carried with him.

Everyone returned stealthily to the house where they had stayed. Exhausted, they barely crossed the threshold before collapsing to the floor, succumbing to their fatigue. But just as they began to relax, someone knocked on the door.

“Wake up, Prince Paltio! You have a piece to find,” called a voice from the other side of the door.

Paltio opened his eyes, resigned despite his exhaustion, wondering nervously who could be knocking.

"Three days have passed. Only twenty-seven days remain until Tejod's deadline."