District 42-Chapter 124: The misunderstood old man

Alfar’s group had finally arrived at the end of those stairs. They went up slowly and carefully, drawing their guns and waiting for the worst.

Alfar was a good leader. However, it was due to his natural intimidating aura. Without even trying he could influence people and make them obey him. In truth, it was hard to call him a leader when his skills were just based on emotional and psychological pressure.

The fact was that, although people would follow Alfar and do what he said to do, they would never be so confident, efficient, or strong as Casper’s group (or when at the time the soldier was still coordinating from far away).

Their performance had decreased significantly, and they got used to being dependant on Casper’s competence, which made the inexperienced Alfar, who knew little about the art of War, be a passable leader in the end. And this happened to be a factor that decreased the strength of all the prisoner’s groups, except Casper’s.

That was why when they got up to look at the corridor that followed those stairs, they froze.

The tension raised to catastrophic levels, most of them were on the verge of desperation. Just the prisoners who were Frelsi used to fight were calmer.

"Damn it... We found them in the end..." Alfar realized for how long he didn’t sigh, and so he took that time to do it. He felt like a ton had left his shoulders, but there was still two ton on each...

"It will not work like this... Those guys can’t be confident in an exchange of bullets. Today is the first day in years that they wield a gun. Until now they were just participating in bare-handed brawls with each other." Even the amateur Alfar could conclude this and got silent trying to think on what to do.

The Dark elf wished he had an intellect as high as Olaf and Casper. He was a laboratory chemist before, but out of his field of study, he was not the smartest guy.

"What will we do? What will we do? I already organized them perfectly. They have the instructions in their minds. We passed through several battles, but still..." He was frustrated, trying to think about what he had done wrong to have such a terrible outcome.

Nevertheless, although he thought that he was there thinking for just a second or two, several seconds had passed. He and his group were still agitated as the corridor started.

Alfar waited for the worst to happen, but nothing came. The Ridires weren’t attacking yet, which left him dumbfounded. So he paid attention to those Ridires.

"What the heck? They aren’t shooting... But why? They have their guns in their hands but didn’t attack until now? Maybe they noticed our desperation and are underestimating us?" The Dark elf was confused about those actions and wondered if they weren’t planning something.

"If they will not do something, then...!" Alfar did the signal they had agreed to do in order to fire.

After some seconds of hesitation and glances at each other, they held their breaths and tried to target those Ridires. Anyway, their weapons weren’t working as they should.

"Alfar, it isn’t..." One of the prisoners tried to show to him their weapons, but he had not the time even to glance at it.

The Ridire troops began to rush through the corridor towards them. They were still wielding their guns but never shooting.

"They can’t shoot as well! It’s a close combat brawl, prepare yourselves!"

As the prisoners heard about close combat, they couldn’t be happier about that, and this time without any hesitation, let their guns on the ground (some few remembered to use them in close combat) and stepped in onto the corridor.

Now they were in a type of battle that they were far more comfortable with.

Without Alfar’s orders, they began to run against the Ridires, and in no time the battle had started.

"We aren’t going with a strategy at all... But I think that this might be something good for now. In a battle like this, if we can find a way to disorganize their lines and just turn it into nothing but a huge violent ruckus, then we can stand a greater chance against them."

Alfar also joined. He was just with a robust pistol in his hands because he didn’t like heavy rifles. The Dark elf didn’t like weapons in general, so carry a rifle with him was already a struggle.

Once he was in the middle of that battle, with punches and weapons flying everywhere, blood spitting on the ground, Alfar began to have his usual nausea. His head was getting heavier as well.

Deamhan was going crazy inside him, trying to take control by any means.

Just to keep standing on that Battlefield was a striving. To fight back was even worse. The most difficult thing was when he was the one assaulting, hurting. It pleased Deamhan the most, gave him strength.

Everything was clear to Alfar. He could even hear the sound of blood dripping or running on the ground. He could see their color as crimson as never before, and it appeared to be brighter than usual. The smell was strong as well.

Besides it, the groans and cries of pain were pleasant. The sounds of bones cracking, flesh being cut, hit... Every single thing that remembered slightly violence, or had a connection with it, made him lose even more control from his mind.

In no time, he was already fighting back without realizing it. He was doing it unconsciously... the Dark elf was doing it.

"Stop, stop, stop, stop! There are a lot of people here, and you will kill one by one!" He tried to calm himself down, make the Dark elf step back, but he couldn’t.

He was not sure when he did it, exactly, but at some point he kneeled on the ground and held his head tightly, pressing the forehead on the ground.

"This crap of a headache... Damn...!" Alfar’s consciousness was fading bit by bit, even though he was doing his best again to hold himself back.

He was pretty sure that this time he would not let Deamhan take control again, but in return, he wouldn’t be able to keep awake.

It was when someone approached him and kneeled on the ground, looking at what he was doing.

"Hmm, you don’t seem good. Anton knows how Svartalfheim’s symptoms works, and the conception of the project overall... It’s quite cruel to do it with a human being indeed." Anton was there, looking directly at him, don’t seeming disposed to do something with Alfar.

The Dark elf got cautious, throwing himself backward and dragging his body as far as he could from that man, who just kept there, staring at him.

"In the end, we both are similar, aren’t we? In a lot of things. You know, Anton never paid too much attention to you since the start. He thought that you were just a talkative idiot guy who didn’t have the strength to comply with what you say... But, in the end, when Anton searched more inside your mind, Anton realized that he was wrong."

Alfar got dumbfounded while hearing those words. He couldn’t understand why Anton was saying those things. It was so quick that he wasn’t having a good grasp of it.

First, that man fooled everyone with his plan to prevent Casper to help the prisoners escape from Halden. He probably was the culprit for their fail at his rescue as well, due to the information that the Ridires had that they were going to invade the laboratory.

"After everything you plotted for us you come to me saying all these things? You were the one trying to take me and Olaf out of the game right? All that story of the rescue was part of it, am I wrong? What do you have in your mind, Anton!?"

The middle-aged man shook his head slowly, looking disappointed for him.

"It’s a pity that you couldn’t have a good understanding of what Anton said before when Casper discovered me... But you have the same perspective as Anton had, you just have to polish it a bit more... When you do it, you will understand why Anton did all those things, Alfar. Since you want the welfare of all the prisoners, and look at them as humans, you surely will."

The Dark elf was still breathing hard. Those dark veins were showing in his body again. He could feel his nails changing, as well as his eyes.

He looked once again to that man, trying to unravel what he had in mind.

"I will need you to get out of my way, Anton. Say to these Ridires stop attacking and back away."

Anton shook his head, clenching his fists and standing still in the same place.

"Anton can’t, Alfar. Until you open your eyes, he will stay."