Chapter 7 - Chapter 7: Chapter 6: Father and Son (2/2)

The blade swished threateningly, causing one robber wielding a sickle to instinctively retreat a step, while the other, holding an ax, roared and chopped down, missing the mark by inches.

The difference in grasping distance is the distinction between life and death.

Lucius surged forward and sent Byrne crashing to the ground, then swiftly ran his sword through the bandit’s heart.

“Aaaaah!”

The other bandit, wielding a sickle, froze in terror, trembling as the large and burly man suddenly shouted fiercely, “You and me, together, front and back attack!”

“Two at once” seemed to give the sickle-bearing bandit a backbone, and together they charged at Lucius with a roar.

“Die!”

Lucius roared, trying to scare off the sickle-wielding bandit again, but found him closing his eyes and swinging the sickle as he screamed, forcing Lucius to deftly dodge to the side.

The burly man’s axe came crashing down, and Lucius, in a rush to block with his sword, was forced to one knee by a bear-like strength, his palms throbbing in pain, his teeth clenched.

So heavy, such astonishing strength—did this man have sub-human or foreign race blood in him?

Lucius managed to roll away and lessen the force before scrambling back up, only to find the two bandits attacking from front and back once more, planning a repeat of their tactic, leaving him no choice but to immediately turn and run towards the pitch-black jungle.

“Chase him!”

The two bandits, fired up with aggression, were not about to let him go.

Byrne hid trembling behind a nearby tree, his face deathly pale as he walked over and bent down to pick up a torch from the campfire.

Another pitiful scream rose, and, biting his teeth, he hurriedly followed after it, soon seeing the bandit with the sickle eviscerated and lying on the ground.

Not far off, the hulking bandit was viciously pinning his father down, pressing the axe blade against the sword with great difficulty due to the overwhelming difference in strength.

Byrne ran over and fiercely burned the burly man’s face with the torch!

“Aaaaah!”

The bushy beard on the man’s face instantly caught fire, his skin split open, and the burly man screamed crazily yet refused to get up as if determined to crush Lucius underneath him no matter what.

“Ha!”

The excruciating pain from the burns eventually caused the burly man’s strength to wane, and Lucius, with a powerful yell, heaved him off.

“Aaaaah!”

The burly man screamed as he rose, holding his axe high, but his entire face was split in two by a sword, and then a sword thrust through his heart for good measure, blood spurting out as the tall body slowed to a kneel before becoming completely still.

“Huff, huff, huff, huff…”

Lucius sat on the ground, gasping for breath, utterly exhausted.

He looked at his son, who was holding his mouth, nearly vomiting, and couldn’t help but reveal a smile of having narrowly escaped death.

“You, you’re afraid of blood, aren’t you?”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the frail Byrne toppled over like a plank of wood.

“…”

Lucius was accustomed to the weaknesses his son had had from birth; after sufficient rest, he stripped all the valuables from the three bodies and put them all on the carriage.

It amounted to twenty-five copper nals, three pieces of inferior weaponry, and a bag of cooked beans.

“Tsk, turns out they were all disgusting paupers!”

He frowned as he buried the three bodies overnight, cleaning up all traces of the encounter, carrying Byrne on his back, and driving the carriage to leave during the night.

Lucius knew within that many farmers and fishermen would moonlight as bandits; he absolutely couldn’t let it be known in Nasir Town that he had killed the three men. The place where the bandits roamed was very close to Nasir Town, which could likely hold their relatives and friends.

“It’s five kilometers to Nasir,” he thought suddenly, feeling a real and unmistaken heat on the back of his hand where the red brand was.

The youth, Byrne, on Lucius’s back, furrowed his brow and dripped with cold sweat as if he were dreaming of something extremely terrifying.

He heard some horrible whispering that was almost devoid of human emotion, conveying a language not of this world, shaping into a will that was too significant to ignore.

Nasir Town.

There, by the sea, lay something exceedingly great, continuously calling out to Byrne and his father.