Mosa's Adam's apple felt like it could fall right out of his mouth. Snoino gently pressed his hand below his breastplate, directly on Mosa's chest, causing his hand to subtly shudder.
He felt the hollowness in Mosa's chest, the desperate struggle of his lungs to pump air, and his body, as cold as metal. Mosa fidgeted, his mouth slowly gaping open.
"T-They… T-Those bastards!" He vibrated, his brows wrinkling, muscles tensed, and body shaking.
I have to… I just…
Mosa gnashed his teeth shut. Blood, thick and heavy, gained strength with each drop.
"No… Save your strength…" Snoino's fatherly voice flowed from his mouth. The guard clenched his legs, hardening as he watched.
He then raised his voice and shouted, "Someone get him a damn healer!" His voice slammed into Mosa's ears.
"Y-Yes, sir…" A lone waiter bowed, his body still trembling with residual shock as he moved away, forgetting his tray mid-air.
The lord grunted as he continued walking forward, his hands flowing with his robe, each step oozing authority. The people in his path all moved to the side and bowed.
"My lord." Snoino bowed while still holding Mosa. The rest of the people there, even the guard who brought Mosa in, all bowed to the lord.
"His name is Mosa, right?" His voice was condescending but not intentionally so.
"Yes, sir!" Snoino answered, his head still bowed as the guard's body stiffened.
The lord marched towards them, the gold and silver on his body trembling as the people just watched. He stared at Mosa's bloodied image, his mouth humming sternly.
"Your armor… That crest…" The lord waved his hand around.
"I take that you're from the garrison defense division… Right?" All just gazed at him as he spoke. He then squatted down, his muscles bulging, and a sword with a golden hilt revealed itself under his robe.
"What exactly happened?" His voice sounded exactly like stone, cold as he looked directly at Mosa.
This is my chance!
Mosa struggled to get out of Snoino's hold, and the guard tried to pull him back, but his body dragged itself towards the lord.
"..." Mosa lay on the ground, speechless, the only sound coming from him was the dripping of his blood.
"...Sir…" Words wheezed out of his deserted lips as blood oozed around their corners.
The lord put his firm yet gentle hand on Mosa's shoulder. "Can you speak?"
Mosa raised his head slightly to meet the Lord's gaze as more blood splashed and his body convulsed.
I'm not even sure that I can make it to the next minute… But I have to…
ACK! ACK!
Mosa moved his loose hand to cover his mouth as he coughed.
"Where's the damn waiter with the healer?!" Snoino muttered, his foot rapidly tapping against the cold stone. Mosa grunted, his breath ragged but stronger.
I can't die here! Even if for just a moment more…
Mosa clenched his blood-covered hand so tightly that blood spurted as a fire lit in his abdomen, warm and cold at once as it surged all over his body.
I have to pass on what I know. So it won't be in vain!
Mosa snapped his head up, staring back at the lord whose face was marked by three scars across the lip, with medium-length hair and a cold, unreadable gaze.
"I-It…was…" Mosa's lips parted, his jaw clenched.
"...It was the king, sir." He wheezed.
Those faint words echoed throughout the hall, landing like hammers in the quiet as the lord's face turned pale, his eyes hollow, and so did everyone else's.
"...What do you mean by this?" Snoino's voice tightened. The guard's eyes widened as he just stared at Mosa, his grip loosening.
"Are you absolutely sure?!" Sweat glistened down Snoino's temple.
Mosa nodded, his head looking like it could fall off. Snoino's face froze, his mouth agape, hands unmoving.
"Hmm…" The lord breathed out as he lowered his head slightly. "And how are you so sure of this?"
"I ordered Fashma to tell the garrison defense to assist the king's forces with outlaws…" The lord fixed a piercing gaze on the man decorated with badges.
"Y-Yes, my lord! I did exactly that!" Fashma removed his hand from his sword and swiftly bowed, his hands glued to his side.
"You do know what you're accusing him of, don't you?" The lord turned back towards Mosa. His tone was as sharp as a blade. Mosa's head swayed left to right, his breathing shallow.
"Y-Yes, sir… I'm sure…" Mosa's voice was barely a whisper.
"They wore the king's clan's crest."
Those words broke something on the lord's face, like a mask cracking, but with each crack, it unraveled into something more horrid.
Then, just like a flash of blinding light, images tore against Mosa's eyes, causing his body to stiffen.
It was as if he was right there again…
His mind traveled far and wide, back to a time not too long before all this.
---The end of chapter 3---