Long Live L'Manberg

Chapter 19: Blood In The Cut

"Eret," Wilbur spat with pure hatred, a fire raging behind his eyes as he marched toward his former enemy. After the series of hardships L'Manberg went through today, the last thing they needed was Eret reappearing at their doorstep. "You have real guts showing up here after what you did to us."

Eret narrowed their eyes, folding their arms underneath the lavish red mantle that rested on their shoulders. "I was simply passing through when I couldn't help but hear you all talking down on me," Eret mocked through a venomous tone. "Things really haven't changed around here, have they?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fundy took a step behind Wilbur, the hair on his neck sticking straight up. Everyone's stance suddenly stiffened, on edge at the sudden appearance of L'Manberg's sworn traitor.

"For starters, this place looks just as awful as I left it!" Eret spread his hands out to draw attention to the piles of trash, mud, and debris littered around L'Manberg. He then bore his eyes at Tommy, who practically had steam coming out of his ears. "And secondly," he sneered, "None of you can ever seem to mind your business. You would think losing a war would have humbled you all a bit, no?"

Tubbo defensively cut in, wagging his finger in Eret's direction with a smug look on his face. "That's where you're wrong, Eret! We rightfully earned our independence- we didn't lose!"

Eret chuckled softly, fixating on Tommy as she drove the metaphorical knife further into the boy. "Oh, that's right. You didn't lose anything, but Tommy on the other hand..."

Tommy's face flushed a deep red as he tightened his jaw, his left eye twitching slightly. "Eret, you son of a bitch!" he growled, marching forward, "I'll kill you right here if I have to!" He whipped out a wooden axe, one of the only weapons that survived the damage, but was met with the glistening blade of a netherite sword pressed up against his neck, about to draw a thin line of blood from his throat if he moved even an inch.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Tommy gulped as he dropped his weapon, his hands trembling as he raised both in unison. He felt someone tightly grasp his wrist, yanking him out of harm's way. "Tommy!" Wilbur screamed, terrified of losing his brother a second time. The boy stumbled backward, gently pressing his hand over his wound as he turned his head to hide his shame. How could he have been so weak? He never would have backed down from a fight- ever. He was just so tired.

Eret rolled their eyes, scoffing at Tommy's immaturity as he continued to dig deeper into the boy. "Acting out on your emotions is such a predictable move, Tommy. Really, can you do anything else? Or are you just this useless?"

Tommy swallowed a forming lump in his throat, looking down at the grass between his shoes. This wasn't fair- none of it was. Eret had no business being here, he had every right to kill him where he stood.

"How does it feel Tommy?" Eret jeered continuously, "It's really no fun when the one singular thing you want is taken from you, isn't it?" Tommy didn't respond, he couldn't even meet eyes with Tubbo as he stared at the ground, forcing his mind to be anywhere else but in the present moment.

"That is enough, Eret!" 

The night fell silent as Wilbur raised his voice, scowling at the traitor. For being such a mediator, no one was used to hearing him raise his voice, let alone shout like a madman. None of them had ever heard Wilbur scream before, and they certainly never wanted to hear it again. He marched up toward Eret until the two were toe to toe. "Get off our lands. We have every right to end you right here."

A disgusted look appeared along Eret's face as she scanned him up and down before rolling her eyes, immediately dismissing his threat. "Please. You don't have it in you, President Soot," she mocked, putting air quotes around Wilbur's new title, "And given the condition you're in, I'd say none of you are in the position for another fight."

Wilbur protectively stood in front of his men, removing his sword from its sheath in retaliation. "Don't you challenge me, or I'll make you fucking regret it." Eret raised a brow, lifting their sword in return. Tommy studied the weapon, its purple glint catching his eye. Such a powerful weapon was not easy to get your hands on- the weapon most definitely belonged to Dream.

"Go ahead, amuse me."

Wilbur was one step away from charging forward, swinging his sword at Eret before a stone-cold voice interrupted their quarrel.

"Eret."

Everyone whipped their heads around to find Dream standing close by. He crossed his arms, visibly irritated about the scene unfolding before him.

"You are deliberately defying my orders by showing your face here," he spoke with a bitter tone as he slowly lurked behind Eret. "That's rather unprofessional after all I've done for you."

Tommy felt nauseous as he stared at his former friend next to his worst enemy. He could never understand why being a part L'Manberg was never good enough for Eret. Instead of working as part of a team, Eret selfishly wanted more. Eret would have rather walked back into the very tyranny they were trying to escape from if it meant getting a surplus of power, and that was exactly what Eret and Dream had in common- control. 

"My apologies, Dream," Eret fumbled, a little startled by Dream's sudden appearance. "I was only settling my unfinished business here."

The members of L'Manberg were a little shocked at what was occurring before them. Dream, the very man who wanted them all dead mere hours ago, was now sending the enemy away. It seemed that he had gotten what he wanted, meaning he had no further business with L'Manberg. If Eret chose to be on his side, those same rules must have applied to them.

"Get out," Dream demanded as he led the way out of L'Manberg, Eret following close behind.

Just like that, the two of them were gone, leaving L'Manberg just as restless as it was before. Wilbur ushered his men inside the van, gently closing the door as he unfolded rusted metal cots for his friends to sleep on. Tommy threw a thin blanket overtop of himself, resting in his cot as he stared at the stars above through the gaping hole in their ceiling. After a particularly bumpy road, they finally reached their goal of freedom. However, everyone know it would be a long time before things returned to the norm, many days of intense labor lying ahead. For the first time in a while, Wilbur exhaled a sigh of relief, no longer fearing waking up to soldiers at his door or threatening voicemails each morning. The L'Manberg Revolution was finally over, it could only be uphill from here.

Right?