The kid rested his master against the lonely tree and stood up as he thought 'I need to get going—' but his gaze lingered towards his brothers once more and hesitation struck his legs which refused to move on.
His eyes linger back to the tree against which his master body rested.
These words echoed 'Do not be held back by the dead'
He bit down his lips and moved forwards
'Just wait for me… I promise I will come soon.' said the kid as his last words to them.
With this, the Young Man solidifies his resolve as he takes his first step towards the unknown and the lonely world that awaits him.
Oddly enough, none of the bodies belonged to the one who ambushed them. Which was more of a reason to be alert as it was by no means a normal ambush can take out a party of so many without a single casualty.
His group was never that weak for them to be done by mere bandits. They were made of a few seasoned mercenaries and his master who exceeded the strength beyond what was considered normal. That's why it was strange for them to die like this without taking out a single man.
Whatever caused it took everyone out. Be it a group of many or few. It was strong enough to take the whole mercenary unit and some adventurers who were asked by the guild.
It might be for the better if he never meets the ones who are responsible for this.
Even though he might be stronger than kids around his age, he was never naturally talented as he had even passed out just from a few swings when he wielded a sword for the first time. He was just a boy who had a headstart. But regardless, he is still just a "teenager" compared to adults. A bud who had yet to bloom.
The kid dusts away his clothes as he looks around to see what the current situation of the field is. It seems peaceful— at least for now.
In his possession was his old sword still stealthed, barely holding itself together which was gifted by his master and showed signs of not just his hard work but also the intense and harsh training he had done.
With his memory still fuzzy, he walked alone on the plains towards the road.
The world was robbed of its colors and yet it was so clear and sharp. It was like he was not seeing the world itself but something deeper within, something that was hidden from human eyes.
For the first time in his life, he saw the world for what it truly was. Even if it's colorless, the details that eyes had grown numb to started revealing themselves once again.
He could even see faint string-like thread floating in the air before him. He tried to grab them but nothing happened as they just passed through his hand. It seemed like it was nonexistent. Those wavy strings floating threads seemed to be guiding him toward some direction almost like fate itself called out to him.
The village he was from was in the opposite direction of the string, yet he instinctively started to follow the string.
His eyes were not those of the one who sought revenge. They were empty and blank. Wandering aimlessly, seeking for something that even he had no idea of.
The boy had an odd habit of walking at a fast pace compared to others which let him cover large distances with ease in a short amount of time.
He walked down the road following the string and soon enough heard a horse neighing and bursts of laughter coming from ahead.
Not knowing if it's a friend or foe, he slowly approaches it to find a man with dark green hair, dopey sharp eyes and riding a horse and the string leading to him who had the same golden outline as the man from his distant memories giving him unordinary presence despite being a different person entirely.
He was accompanied by two footmen and both had the same white outline like his master. Not knowing their meaning, but it was enough to point out that the green-haired man on horse was different and similar to the one who attacked his village.
But upon seeing them, his headache grew sharper.
The foot soldiers were laughing like maniacs which kind of made the Young man irk out to his bones and instinctively feel oddly disgusted for unknown reasons. While the man on the horse looked serious and troubled in his own world.
The string disappeared the moment they noticed the Young Man and started moving towards him.
He awkwardly rested his left with palms open on top of the hilt of his sheathed sword as it was a common practice and a custom for adventurers and mercenaries alike to show they are armed but friendly when they meet one another on the road side in the country.
'I don't have a position to be picky, I should—' but just as he was thinking, he noticed blood on the shoes of the footman.
The Young Man instinctively got serious and a sudden flicker of rage builds up inside him as he tightens his grip on the hilt. He took a deep breath to calm his anger and focus on them.
It was the worst case scenario. A group of few men whose strength was strong enough to take down not only seasoned mercenaries, adventurers but even his master who was the strongest from all others.
The Young Man had never learned to wield a sword properly. He had only learned by watching the stance and memorizing the movements of mercenaries.
He never had any interest in swords and only used it to catch their attention but after years of copying it, he had gotten a whack of mocking other styles and even predicting movement to some extent.
While it only was mocking their physical stance, it helped him understand their movement and predict their blade path. It was not a perfect copy but rather a bad imitation of others.
The best he could use it for was learning and predicting their movements. He just studied the motion and sound of the body itself as he adapted to it by simulating the stances in his mind which always gave him a headache.
The passing adventurers who fought against him often ridiculed his mockery saying it was just a fraud and hopeless. It was not like he had won against them but no one likes seeing someone copying their style even if it was badly.
Even some of his brothers told Fariz that his style was just a cheap trick trying to mock others and it would not hold up but his master always laughed it off as if it was an absurd joke he heard.
While it was only behind his back, the boy still was able to hear them whispering or by accidental ear dropping. They tried to be friendly about it but deep down the boy knew the emotions behind the eyes were of fear and disgust of not wanting their efforts to be stolen just like that.
But his master laughed at all of them confidently and even told the boy not to worry about them.
But with continuous ridiculation from the adults, the boy eventually stopped using it and buried it deep inside him. So that he could fit among the norms. So that he can be normal just like the rest.
And he was reminded of those very eyes of his master's eyes, which were filled with confidence telling him everything will be alright.
The kid said 'Master, do you really believe that I can…' he paused and smiled with dull eyes 'Why am I even asking because it's time for me to fulfill that belief of yours.'
He narrowed his eyes and whispered 'Cheap trick?... I will destroy what they couldn't with this cheap trick of mine.'
He tried to clear his mind with a large breath, forgetting all that happened and only focusing on the future. He knew that he had no hope of defeating someone who wiped out his group and came out unscratched yet his eyes darkened and became determined.
The man on the horse froze as he saw the Young Man. His eyes widened as he stared at the sharp torn hole on the chest
'It can`t be…' thought the man astonished.
The footmen were busy mumbling among themself and the Young Man whose headache started to worsen thought 'Maybe I should just step back and–' As he slowly took a step backwards but got tensed up by a sudden voice.
"HEY YOU!" yelled one of the footman while other foolman mocked "Did you hide among those dead bodies"
The footman mocked "Haha, he must have been playing dead to survive like a coward"
The man on horse had not spoken a single word as he looked at him in his eyes and thought 'No way he is a coward. No coward as eyes of a dead man'
His eyes were focused and still. The eyes of someone who had accepted death itself and now was on his way to executing it. The kind of eyes even the most veteran of soldiers fear for no one knew what they were capable of. After all, a soldier who fears no death is nothing more than a monster who is willing to even lose his head for a chance that will kill his foe.
The man finally spoke 'You again? How did you survive—' but mid questioning, he was cut off by the foolish foolman "Does it matter, he should have just pretended to be dead. You walked out from your grave just to step into another"
While the foolman were busy taunting the boy. He just stood controlling his horrific headache and rage while being distracted by what he saw.
The Young Man was seeing weird ghastly images when he focused on the men. The ghastly shadows moved and their bodies soon followed the shadow movement.
The more he looked, the greater the pain grew. He tried to surpass the pain but it was like his mind being bitten and thrown around like a dog's chewing toy.
The footman laughs 'Does it even matter when he is gonna die anyway with such wounds?" but there were no wounds on the boy as he checked before. Only tattered markings and some blood.
'I need to do something fast or this pain will be the end of me.' the Young Man cried inside as he kept on taking regulated breathing.
Anyone normal would have already passed out from the pain but he is not normal like the rest.
The foolman spoke up furiously "Hey, do you not hear us? I will not stand for such ignorance" and he starts walking at him furiously.
The man on horse turns away soon followed by the other footman as if the victor was already decided. Leaving the Young Man at mercy of his.
The closer he stepped, the more clear his shadow became. The shadows were foreshadowing the movement of the person he focused upon.
He charged towards the Young Man recklessly as he thrust his sword but was easily dodged effortlessly.
The Young Man was not confident but with these strange shadows, he can easily predict and move out of the way.
The foolman who failed to land the hit instantly looked towards the other two and took a sigh of relief after noticing they had not noticed his failure.
His self sense of pride had blinded him of the fact that the Young Man dodged his attack with ease even if he was not taking it seriously.
In hurry, he struck again and the Young Man with no effort dodged it but this time he showed no mercy as he firmly gripped his sword and in a single slash took the foolman down.
The flame inside him increased from dying flicking to burning flame the moment he cut into his flesh.
His mood instantly shifted as if he was a whole different personality had taken over.
By this point, the other two had already moved on not realizing the victor was someone who they had never expected.
An unfamiliar voice came from behind 'Leaving already?' which stopped the both men on their tracks as they looked behind only to find the comrade lying while the Young Man, standing firm, pointing his sword towards them.
The footman was startled by the sight and charged blindly at him enraged.
The man on the horse warned him 'Don`t get provoked' but it was too late as the footman had already charged.
Just like the other one, he also had a shadow in front of him showing an upper slash ready to end it in one single sweep— underestimating the boy.
The young man simply parried the upper slash and kicked him on the stomach, making him lose balance and posture as he ended his life without batting an eye like an emotionless beast.
He was indeed avenging the dead but the flicking rage inside him was only growing larger. He clutched his heart, having a hard time breathing like having a fever. His mind was in shambles as his headache only grew large. It felt like his brain was being fried yet he paid no mind to his own wellbeing and just smiled.
'Master… I am doing it… I am taking revenge'
The boy's smile was a twisted yet miserable one. Unsettling as if he was losing himself.
He looked at the man on ground and noticed the white outline that emitted from the man started to fade away as his life was slipping away which reminded him of his master.
The footman raised his arm towards the other man.
'Brother…' he whispered as he hand dropped and the outline broke apart.
He killed them yet he felt no satisfaction from it, the anger did not cool down but only was driven higher.
'It's not fair… you killed me… YOU KILLED MINE…' screaming inside, trembling in rage, grasping onto his cloth, breathing out a cold misty puff of smoke.
The flame kept on increasing with every breath he took.
And he paused.
The flame went quiet. Disappeared like it never existed.
Something had caused it to cease from existence as his mind went blank… and a single question rose from the silence.
'Were they really any different?'
Just like he begged his master to let him fight.
'If I was raised on the opposite side…'
If his master had allowed him to fight for him…
'Would I had killed the one I called brother'
Just like how he was willing to kill strangers whom he would have met for the first time in his life… to prove his worth.
His mind was questioning if what he was doing was really what he wanted to or if fate was once again playing games with him. Was the place where he was born decided his whole life and who his enemies would be.
After all he too wanted to go out and fight but was it because he was some blood thirsty beast or just because he was found by a mercenary group who killed for their bread. Was he excited to kill or just wanted someone to notice him.
It was not regret he felt. Regret was foreign to him but he knew if he lied to himself now. He might never be able to see the truth again. A lie that would degrade his morality once more.
He stared at his hand 'What was it that I wanted to do… Did I lose my purpose—'
He tightened his fist 'No, I never had one to begin with.'
He breathed out 'I just wanted to show that I was useful…' as he tightened his fists of the harsh truth.
'Useful even when no one ever asked me to… Not my father nor my master… Just what am I…'
He saw… What laid in front of him were not monsters nor an enemy, just another human being. A normal human who also walked, breathed, moved, laug-, talked just like him yet were forced to fight without knowing the reasons of others.
All that thinking and only a single thought came to mind as he smiled 'I am such a hypocrite' with a pitiful look on his face.
The man on the horse unmounted and sent it off.
He raised his sword towards the kid as he stared at him. He had an odd expression of confusion.
Dead silence fell to the field which was soon broken by the kid.
'Hey… why are we fighting?'