Our uneventful experience ended up being too good to be true when we turned into a new corridor and found ourselves in a vast red-black cavern with guns and arrows pointed at our heads from a group of people surrounding us.

I noticed that they weren't wearing the Evadale Knight garb but regular clothes as myself and fitted with firepower. The stench of iron, magnesium and some other firecracker concoction wafting through the cavern made it more obvious.

"Well, what do we have here?" I heard a pompous voice of a man question our presence.

An old man with a potbelly bulging out of his opened dark jacket stepped into view. A dark homburg hat was set low on his head. I spied the top of a fob watch being pushed out of the silt pocket of his dark navy vest.

I stifled a chuckle at the sight of his pudgy face that held the most ridiculous dark moustache, purposely styled and tapered so its pointy tips curled up towards his piggy cheeks.

The fine silver monocle eyeglass, adorning his left brown eye, didn't help his taste credibility either.

His heavy, clunky, steps made his patterned broad toe shoes an obvious feature.

"My, oh, my, a pair of Adonis, one of them a knight too; oh, lucky days!" The pudgy man creepily licked his lips and childishly clapped his hands.

"Boys and girls, take whatever you can glean from the knight, do what you like with him but that black-eye cutie pie is not to be touched. I will have that pleasure."

"Eek! What's with this creepy guy?" I shivered with the creeps running through my spine that was ten times worse than the ones Trix gave me.

"Hold Homburg!" A firm voice gave an order that caused the pudgy man's moustache to twitch with a snarl.

My eyes widened with surprise when I saw Leinard coolly striding towards me but wearing a different outfit.

The manly opaque Gus hat on his head, shadowed his grey eyes and pushed out some of his brown fringe so it hung over the tops of his brows.

His navy-blue officer's uniform was replaced with a long-sleeved tanned workman's shirt, dark gentleman's vest, hardy dark denim jeans and brown dragon pattern riding boots. A dark grey handkerchief scarf covered his neck and the collar's spread area.

My eyes lingered on the tanned double belt that held up his jeans by the waist and provided support for two tarnished silver-iron guns poking out of their hip holsters, which were in close range of his steady gloved hands.

"Colonel?" I blurted and gulped.

"I resemble someone you know?" The man stoically asked after his eyes had looked me up and down with a quick assessment.

I braved a glance at Colin and was relieved he had kept a level expression, but I'm sure even he was surprised and confused by the man's striking resemblance.

"Who are you men?" The man asked us.

"Oh, just some nobodies passing through," I timidly answered, ignoring Colin's raised brow.

"Nobodies are ones who do not pass through the North Wing of the First Tier," a feminine voice berated my answer.

I held back a reaction to the woman who stepped into view to stand next to the Leinard look-a-like.

Her long blond hair was presented in a neat bun, held together by hairpins that had dainty bird charms dangling from delicate silver chains.

Her features were small, and the shape of her face was oval. The blue of her eyes and the shape of her mouth was unremarkable. Her curvaceous body was donned in a black hakama kimono and boots; a sheathed koto sword was strapped near her hip.

She was cooling herself with a folding fan made of old gold material; the fan's guard ends showed an oriental image of sparrows.

I yelped with fright at the guns and arrows that were cocked and ready to shoot out our heads.

"Last chance. Tell us who you are or see your end." The Leinard look-a-like was straight to the point.

"Fine," I released a weary sigh. "My name is Famine, and he's Colin."

"Famine? I've heard that name before," The Leinard look-a-like said with a pensive frown.

"Aah! To hell with these brutes. I say let us do away with them and salvage their gear," grumbled Homburg, the man with the tacky moustache.

"What is your orders Sire?" the woman asked the Leinard look-a-like.

"Bind their eyes and hands and bring them. If anyone defiles or handles these men poorly, I'll cut off their hands for my ornaments," the Leinard look-a-like casually ordered the people who pointed the weapons to our heads.

I glanced around their faces and noticed their fearful or tense expressions. It seems this man was able to intimidate them.

"Sire, these men could be spies from your brother! It would be better to eliminate them before they cause further harm." Homburg voiced his difference on the order and swallowed nervous gulps at the piercing frown from the Leinard look-a-like.

"Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you," he conceded.

My eyes and hands were bound before I had a moment to react.

A pungent scent, of what I gathered was jasmine and almond, wafted up my nose to cause all my senses to dull to a point that I couldn't detect anything.

I could tell I was moving but I couldn't feel my movements nor sense distance and time. There were no smells or other markers that could tell me where I was going. I was wandering about a formless dream.

"De..." I tried to think but even my thoughts were jumbling up and incoherent as soon as I tried to string words or an image together. All my mental images eventuated to black and white blobs.

If I was able to feel my heart beats, I suspected they would be racing with panic right about now.

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