Chapter 166: The Frenchman

Locked within the confines of the Roman dungeon for an agonizing 24 hours, Alan's mind raced with thoughts of what could have transpired during this time. Anxiety gnawed at him, as the uncertainty of the situation weighed heavily on his shoulders. He yearned to discover the unfolding events outside the prison walls.

His anticipation grew when he was summoned by multiple Roman soldiers, instructed to follow the French player, Zencher. Alan couldn't help but find it peculiar that only he had been called upon from among the other captives. An air of intrigue surrounded the impending encounter with the French leader, and Alan's mind was ablaze with speculation.

The designated meeting place was the balcony of the citadel, a serene garden bathed in the soft, early morning light. As Alan arrived, his eyes fell upon a middle-aged man with dark hair, distinguished by a single streak of white that graced his right side. This man, leisurely seated amidst the stone tables, exuded an air of authority. He was flanked by a renowned veteran known as the Silver Rapier, who stood as a vigilant guardian.

Meeting Alan's gaze with a warm smile, the man extended a courteous welcome, "Welcome, Alan. Please, have a seat."

Before them lay a table set for two, adorned with a complete tea service and biscuits, items that seemed utterly out of place in the rustic, medieval setting of Britannia. The invitation was unmistakable.

"Please, help yourself to a biscuit and some tea."

Seated before him was Axel Arnebout, a name that resonated as one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the world. A true French noble, bearing the title of Marquise, the Arnebout was known far and wide for his extensive reputation and boundless influence. Alan had heard tales of the man's notoriety and his knack for giving Captain Carter and the American military an abundance of headaches during his previous life.

However, Alan's last recollection was of the man's demise in the news, mere weeks after surviving the game. Consequently, he had never had the opportunity to delve deeper into who Axel Arnebout was, for during that period, Alan was but a humble foot soldier, a world away from the corridors of influence and wealth.

Intrigued by the purpose of this clandestine meeting, Alan took his seat and casually indulged in the tea offered.

"Mister Alan, you are remarkably composed. It's truly hard to believe that you are just a high school teacher," Axel commented, his observant eyes taking in the calm facade.

The fact that the man knew his background, despite their first-time meeting, suggested that someone had been discussing him in the last 24 hours. This was especially intriguing since, in the game, it wasn't known in advance which server they would be matched with. It was clear that the information hadn't come from the man he had been captured with.

Disinclined to engage in pleasantries, Alan cut right to the point.

"Tell me, what is it that you want?"

Axel, in his characteristic unhurried manner, embarked on an introduction, offering insights into his own identity and articulating his desire to befriend Alan. He emphasized the uniqueness of someone who had reached level 30 in only two rounds, and a civilian entrusted by the U.S. military to form his own army. Axel saw something truly intriguing in Alan and expressed his hope for a collaborative partnership.

"You are a fascinating individual, Alan. I genuinely hope we can be friends and cooperate. What are your thoughts, Alan? Can we work together?"

Alan, cautiously open to collaboration with other players, sought clarification.

"How? What's your plan?" he inquired, and Axel responded nonchalantly, taking a sip of tea before standing up.

"Follow me."

The man strolled through the Roman citadel with an air of authority, and remarkably, the Roman soldiers permitted his passage without question. This was a clear demonstration of the man's substantial influence within the faction. The citadel was an imposing structure with thick stone walls and soaring arches, reflecting the Roman aesthetic.

They proceeded to the main chamber, where a grand round table stood at the center, meticulously crafted Roman chairs. Axel audaciously occupied Artorius's chair, and this action spoke volumes about his intention.

It was at this moment that Alan became acutely aware of Axel's plane and said, "Where is Artorius? What have you done with him?"

The man maintained his casual smile and responded, "I've heard that you're a clever one. Take a guess."

Alan's suspicions crystallized, and he blurted out, "You... you're sending them into battle, you're letting them fight!"

The man simply replied, "Oui, yes!"

Axel Arnebout went on to elaborate, describing how on the previous day, a vast horde of both barbarian factions, Saxons and Angles, had launched a massive assault on the Roman garrisons near the wall. In response, just a few hours ago, Atorious marched over 5,000 Roman soldiers to reinforce the beleaguered gate, to engage the invading barbarians in a fierce battle.

Alan couldn't help but grasp the implications. The French players from the Paris Server must have eagerly anticipated reaping quest rewards from the battle. However, Alan knew all too well that the deaths of both Roman and Saxon soldiers would only compound their troubles, as more undead would undoubtedly rise, further intensifying the challenges they faced in this round.

Addressing Alan's concerns, Axel reassured him, "Do not worry. I managed to secure an agreement to let the 500 Samaritan knights remain. Under my command, of course. these knights would be the only reinforcement that we need against the undead"

A sense of dread crept over Alan as he ventured to ask, "you are hoping for Artorius to die, arent you?"

With a grin, Axel responded, "Oui. What do you think? A brilliant plan, wouldn't you say?"

In truth, Alan felt no emotional attachment to an NPC like Artorius. He could comprehend Axel's strategy of amassing as many points as possible by leveraging the current situation. However, Alan also recognized the immense gamble Axel was taking. He couldn't possibly fathom the scale and menace of the undead army they were facing, and he believed that winning this round would require the legendary NPC Artorius to be by their side.

Observing Alan's expression, Axel's confident demeanor waned. He stated, "I've run the numbers. Even if the entire population of Britannia turns into zombies, we can still secure victory, particularly with your group of 3,000 Americans reinforcing this position. We can work together and claim a joint triumph."

Alan pondered for a moment before replying firmly, "No, we cannot take that risk. It's too significant."

With a deep sigh, Axel conceded, "Are you certain?"

"I am," Alan affirmed. "If you don't want to share the points with the Roman soldiers, you can always keep them in reserve. You don't need to make points out of them now."

Once more, Axel heaved a sigh, his disappointment evident. He remarked, "I had believed you were a visionary like myself... What a letdown."

With a barely perceptible nod from the French Nobel, the blonde Zancher made his departure out of the room. Axel remained calm, his countenance collected and poised as he said "I guess you are returning to the dungeon."

Alan calmly replied "If you can stop me, that is," his words hanging in the air like a challenge. With an almost imperceptible fluidity of motion, Alan unsheathed his sword, the steel glinting in the chamber's ambient light. In an instant, he assumed a combat-ready stance, his body prepared for the imminent battle.

On the opposing side of the chamber, the full-plate silver knight mirrored Alan's actions. silver rapier in hand, poised and ready to engage in a duel that seemed inevitable.

As the confrontation unfolded, Alan's [Enhanced Senses], detected the approach of additional guards converging from the outside. The situation was becoming increasingly precarious, prompting Alan to consider his options and take his leave before the odds turned against him.

"We can fight next time," Alan confidently remarked as he pivoted and hastened toward the chamber's exit. He braced himself for a swift departure, preparing to navigate the labyrinthine halls of the Roman citadel.

However, fate had other designs. As Alan reached the door and thrust it open, he was met with an unexpected sight - a formidable figure poised to execute two powerful blade strikes, throwing Alan back into the chamber.

To Alan's astonishment, the figure revealed himself to be- Coacellos, the enigmatic leader of the Black Sand Mercenaries.