BLOODY LOVE'S
Episode 226's

Mary was accompanied only by one Argent worker named Pete, a servant of the Garnet family, and Susan. He moved his weapon behind a hidden pocket in the sleeve of a fur coat, preparing it for easy grabbing. It's not a problem, he thought, the plan is just accelerated. Not problem.

A painful buzz flashed inside Maria's head, leaving her choked with pain. Something deep within him rebelled, forcing him to step aside. Maria knows what it is. He fought with all his might. In a short time his forehead was filled with sweat points.

"Miss?" Susan called worriedly.

"It's okay" whispered Maria quickly. He took a deep breath to calm the noise in his head. "Korsetku. That's all."

"I'll loosen it up as soon as we get to the South" Susan whispered.

"No need, Sue." Maria shook her head faintly, really already feeling better.

The train runs smoothly. Like Argent's luxury vehicles, their seats didn't even shake despite the uneven road. Mary flicked a little window of the horse-drawn carriage to look outside. People look worried. They all rush home. The doors and windows of the house are tightly closed even though it is still daytime. Vehicles and horses were speeding away leaving a smog of dirt dust on the road. No patrols were seen. He did not see the group in the dark blue uniform along the road they passed.

Maria predicted they would reach the South in about fifteen minutes. He closed the curtain. A second later, as if triggered by the closing of the window curtain, the train stopped. The four people in the carriage looked at each other. They should not have reached their destination.

Pete prepares his short sword, then opens the carriage to check. Mary was about to follow, but was soon prevented by Susan and one of her servants.

"Check train!" Mary heard the voice cry from outside, followed by the sound of footsteps and the metal of the sword. It was the voice of someone he knew very well.

Flora Spencer's.

Deep in the heart of Bjork, behind them, the clang of the bells began to echo. The town hall called for a warning of danger signs.

***

The city hall bells went off for the second time today.

Just like the early hours of yesterday, this time the clang was not easy, full-on for a few minutes. Such a sound has only one meaning: a sign of danger. Patrol police quickly spread out to guard the streets and every corner of the city, making sure all doors were locked tightly and giving the shortest explanation.

"What else is this, Wayne?" Pierre asked one of the policemen while closing the windows of his shop from outside.

"It's like last night, but Bjork and Argent police will handle it. All is safe and in control" Wayne uttered that with his mouth fusing sand. He still hates the Argent family, especially since Jose threatened him yesterday. "Make sure your door is locked, turn on the radio, wait for the next news. You'll be kept informed of what's going on."

"Living life again?" Pierre exclaimed in wonder. "You know Albert was hurt by it, right? Poor guy, he thinks it's his lost son!"

Wayne is not listening. He continued his steps to the other door to say the exact same thing. Everything is safe and in control. Bjork Police in collaboration with Argent. Make sure the house is locked. Don't go outside no matter what. Radio up. The police are working with Argent.

At the sixth door he knocks. Wayne turned and walked straight to his house, not wanting to spit out the lie. He knew there would be nothing they could do. The black material he saw rolling far east of Bjork was clearly not something that the police or the Argent bouncer could deal with. Whatever it was, just looking at it made Wayne feel uncomfortable and wanted to vomit. When he stared at her for too long, he felt a faint bleating sound and his mind was filled with bad shadows.

They were ordered to march guard the civilians, but guard from what? He did not want to do anything in vain and died silly. He will leave the city as soon as possible by sea.

Robert looked at Wayne's back further away, then sighed. There's nothing he can do now. He should have punished the deserter. If left unchecked, such a person would bring bad influence to others, undermining the morale of other members. Robert is not. He felt he could not blame the man, who had lived alone raising his two daughters since he was young. He understood that not everyone would have the same determination as the Argentites, they were not trained or prepared for it. Its members don't even know what they're dealing with. There's nowhere to run.

An Argent worker had been sent to take Helga to the South, for Robert it was enough. Renata will also be there, so Helga will have a conversation partner. He remembered the two women were quite familiar.

Robert himself was determined to fulfill his final duty as best he could. Now he stood guard in front of the city gate, watching the Argent workers pass by using three chariots of six horses.

Marco followed behind on the Imbrue, his pale yellow horse. A few patrolling policemen who saw the man pass by immediately spat on the ground to throw bad luck. Seeing Marco makes them all remember the story of the apocalypse written in the Book of Revelation; there are four horsemen who symbolize divine judgment. The fourth rider named Death, his horse pale yellow greenish, and the kingdom of death followed behind him.

***

Marco knows what people think of him and he doesn't care. The dark scrolls that appeared from the eastern direction of the sky were definitely not clouds. No clouds are speckled and move noisily like insects of equanimity.

He sped his horse faster when he saw Mr. Stuart's car in front of him. It didn't take long to turn Tin Lizzie at 40 km/h.

"What's that?!" marco exclaimed as Mr. Stuart turned his head towards him.

"Darguably, I'm not the Encyclopedia of Mystic Phenomena, Argent!"

"I don't know!" Mr. Stuart laughed dryly. He stopped his car in the middle of the road, where they had planned to set up an ambush squad, then got out of the car with binocular binoculars. "I feel it's not a cloud" he told Marco, who jumped down from the Imbrue.

Behind them, the workers' trains had arrived and the workers were scattered with gas, starting to lower their weapons crates.

Marco approached Mr. Stuart and took out a single binocular from the coat pocket. It lengthens its monoculars, arranges magnification, and peeks into the distance. That which spread rapidly in the sky far to the east was indeed like a scroll of sand, not clouds. As he lowered his binoculars, he saw Finnian approaching them from the east of the savanna, already returning from monitoring.

"Where's Dr. Rolan?" asked Mr. Stuart after looking around and not finding the brown-haired head.

"Supervising Jose not to kill himself" Marco replied. He walked up to Finnian, who had arrived in front of them and jumped down from the horse.

"The whisper from Aston said that Sir William's chariot ran very fast" the worker reported. "She's probably here later in the afternoon, not tonight."

"You got to see it firsthand?" ask Marco.

"Sir William, sir? No. gabe. I haven't seen it." Finnian looked back, subconsciously rubbing his own arm. "The black one I don't know for sure. It's from Aston, sir. But too on top, I can't be sure what. Maybe clouds?" voice hesitated.

"Take a flare on the train, go watch the road. If he's close, fire the flare."

Finnian nodded without thinking. When Marco saves her from the streets, the vow he takes is that he will die in the man's path. It wasn't the gold coins that made him no doubt follow this family and he was happy to get the chance to prove it.

"Why flare?" ask Mr. Stuart as soon as Finnian goes to one of the freight trains. "That would make Sir William wary!"

"It'll get us ready." Marco turned to face him. He pointed at the black scroll behind the shoulder with a thumb. "The black cloud is clearly a bad sign. Sir William probably smelled something suspicious, so he felt the need to announce his presence. He knows we're going to fight. If not, why do such demonstrations? He's already on guard. If you want to welcome him with the same hospitality, you also have to prepare, right?"

Mr. Stuart looked far to the east, then sighed. He looked around them. "How many people are here?"

"Seventy." Marco knows how to count quickly. "Greyland should have moved on from Aston. Perhaps that was also what made Sir William wary."

Finnian passes by them, salutes Marco before boarding his horse and passing. In addition to the flare, he also carried the ration in his backpack.

The other workers are taken care of by Gerald, Sam, and Harold. Hans takes care of Jose in Bjork. Mr. Stuart stopped paying attention to them. He went to one of the cart-derived crates, took a double-barreled gun from a special crate reserved for Marco and stretched it out to the man. "You're gonna shoot, too, right?"

Marco received the weapon with a faint smile on his face. If the man feels anxious or agitated, he shows absolutely nothing. In fact, those black eyes flashed excitedly. "I intend to cut his skull."

"We should move forward" suggested Mr. Stuart after weighing the terrain. "Here is too close to the city and there are no barricades for us."

"If it's not near the city, we'll run out of ammunition on the street" Marco said. "Just calm down, our guy's enough. Seventy here, two hundred in Clearwater and Marsh's town, then an additional hundred from Aston. Don't forget I have a magical niece now."

Mr. Stuart just laughed.

Marco turned to his workers who immediately marched despite being untidy. He looked at them one by one to strengthen them. "We're probably going to die" he said honestly. The tip of his voice was lost in the wind, so Marco repeated louder, "Our opponent is not a human!" He paused, let the information be absorbed and settled, then continued, "I'll be honest with you that we might die tonight! Today! But we'll die as warriors! Not cowardly. We're gonna fight! Not hiding. And if in the midst of gunfire and blood rain you falter and ask what you're fighting for, or what you're fighting for here, look around you!" Marco circulated a further look into the souls before him, embracing their courage. All he employed were Bjork natives or who later made Bjork his permanent residence. "We fight because we are free men, not prisoners of fate!" He felt everyone holding their breath with him, taking a breath as he also began to pull it. The faces in front of him were already burning with spirit. "Therefore we revolt! We fight for ourselves, for dignity as human beings! Show him that we are not silent goats when shaved to be taken to slaughter! Keep heart! WE are the nadis in Bjork!" Marco swung the rifle in his hand, using his muzzle to point towards the city gate far to the west. "We fight for Bjork! For our house there!"

The cigarette butt was spit into the ground. Shoes jerked. Weapons lifted. The sound of metal crackling accompanied the vigorous throats of exclamations coming out from the tense necks of the workers.

"For Bjork!"

"For Bjork!"

"For Bjork!"

Marco lifted his weapon up into the sky and joined in exclaiming, burning the spirit.

Mr. Stuart watched from the side of his car, admiring how Marco deliberately put himself not as a master but as one of them by using our word, drag the listener to breathe in the same rhythm as him even if it is only a few minutes. It was a short but thrilling, uplifting minute. Their morale all increased to the stage of not minding death as long as they could fight valiantly with their leader.

Mr. Stuart smiled as he raised his weapon in salute. "For Argent!"

***