“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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