"We're almost safe, everyone," Bain said enthusiastically. His voice resonated through the weary group of soldiers.
With determined steps, they entered the bustling city of Baroks. Just like Filgen, the streets here also teed with life where rchants hawking their wares and children playing by the roadside.
The only difference is the soldiers can finally heave a sigh of relief, knowing that they are safely in the territory of their ho country. There's no need to worry about possible of being chased or silenced.
As they ventured deeper into the heart of Baroks, Bain's gaze swept over the surroundings.
The mayor's residence was their target, a place that held the potential for the aid they so desperately needed.
Amidst the lively streets, a soldier spoke up, his voice tinged with uncertainty, "Sir, do you know where he's living? Why don't we go to the city hall instead."
Bain look up to the sky above his head, "It's lunchti now, he may not be at city hall. And I don't where his residence is but we can ask around," he replied, his tone steady and assured.
They began their inquiry, engaging with the locals about their daily routines.
Directions were given, leading them through a labyrinth of alleys and thoroughfares.
Eventually, their quest brought them to a grand residence, nestled within the heart of the city and guarded by several guards patrolling the premises.
As they approached the residence, their progress was promptly halted by the vigilant guards.
Their attire, lacking the telltale military uniform, prompted sceptical gazes from the guardians.
The leader of the guards stepped forward, his tone stern and authoritative.
"Identify yourselves and state your business," demanded the guard, repeating the sa standardized dialogue.
Bain, stepped up to the forefront. "My na is Bain Lawrence, Chief of the Ryntum Army," he introduced. "I'm here to see the mayor."
The guard's expression remained unyielding, the scepticism etched into his features. "That's a bold claim to make. Is there any way to substantiate it?" he inquired, his tone challenging.
Bain's shoulders squared as he t the guard's gaze head-on. "I've lost everything on my flight, including proof of my identity. Just call your mayor, he knows ," he explained, a note of urgency underscoring his words.
The guard shook his head, feeling absurd about Bain's request. "Look, the mayor isn't soone you can summon at a whim like a friend," he retorted.
Bain's resolve remained unshaken, his expression unwavering. "I understand that, but I assure you, I'm not lying," he affird.
Pushed by Bain's insistence, the guard reluctantly gave in and order his subordinate to inform the mayor.
Monts later, the mayor's orders were relayed from within the residence.
As the guard moved aside to allow them passage, Bain cast a knowing look in his direction. "Told you," he remarked, a sense of triumph underlying his words.
Stepping through the entrance, they found themselves in a well-decorated residence.
Their journey from the wilderness to this refined setting felt almost surreal.
A servant guided them down a corridor, leading them to a grand dining hall where a sumptuous feast was laid out.
Seated at the head of the table was Mayor Samuel Lazo, a man in his early fifties whose countenance exuded a sense of authority and warmth. Beside him was his wife and children, looking at the newly arrived people.
Upon spotting Bain, his face lit up with genuine delight. "Bain, how wonderful to see you again," he greeted with heartfelt warmth.
His gaze then flickered over Bain's ragged appearance and that of his companions.
Confusion wrinkled his brow as he questioned, "But... what happen to you? All of you look like a beggar."
Bain offered a wry smile, "It's a long story," he replied, the weight of their recent trials evident in his tone.
The mayor gestured to the dining table adorned with an array of delicious dishes. "Please, take a seat and join us for lunch. You all seem as if you haven't had a proper al in days."
"Thank you, Samuel," Bain said sincerely, his gratitude palpable.
He turned to his soldiers and exchanged a aningful glance, wordlessly conveying that they should accept the offer of respite. They followed suit, weary bodies gratefully sinking into the seats.
Seated in the comfortable dining hall, Bain cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on the table as he began to narrate their harrowing journey.
The soldiers around him sat in rapt attention, their exhaustion montarily forgotten as his words painted a vivid picture of their trials.
As Bain recounted the ambush, the desperate retreat, and the gruelling journey through unfamiliar territories, the soldiers' expressions shifted. So clenched their fists in frustration, while others wiped away tears as Bain's words stirred mories.
Mayor Samuel Lazo listened with a furrowed brow, his concern evident in the lines that creased his forehead.
"This... sounds serious," Mayor Lazo finally remarked. "We need to inform this to the king."
Bain nodded in agreent, his exhaustion montarily overshadowed by a renewed determination. "That's the plan," he replied. "I hope you can lend us so of your horses. We need to reach the king as swiftly as possible."
Mayor Samuel Lazo's gaze moved between Bain and his soldiers, his expression filled with sympathy. "Of course," he said, his tone decisive. "There's no problem with that. But for now, take your ti and eat. There's no need to hurry. You all must be famished after what you've been through."
With gratitude in their eyes, the soldiers around the table exchanged glances, their hearts ward by the mayor's kindness.
As the aroma of food enveloped the air, they began to serve themselves, their movents a blend of weariness and gratitude. The clinking of cutlery against plates echoed in the dining hall, a strangely comforting sound amidst the dire circumstances they had faced.
"Sorry for barging suddenly into your house, Samuel," Bain said apologetically.
Mayor Lazo waved off the apology with a smile. "No worries," he replied warmly. "It's good to be of help."
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