Venti, motionless, bow raised, felt the wind itself preparing the ground for the moment it would strike.
Bandit leader: "Good heavens, who are you?"
Venti hesitated before finally answering.
Venti: "My name is Venti."
Venti didn't know where this feeling came from, but he understood perfectly well that he couldn't let the group's leader get away unscathed.
He understood perfectly well that the fight was inevitable, and at that moment, fragments of memories surfaced in his mind.
These memories spoke of using a bow and the stances to adopt when wielding this weapon.
He didn't know what was happening to him, not really.
Everything had happened too fast:
- The wind reacting to his thoughts.
- The bow appearing in his hands as if by magic.
- The tension that saturated the air.
- And now, this brutal certainty that had just imposed itself upon him.
A certainty that was neither human nor childlike:
He had to shoot.
Venti: "Too bad for you."
His arm rose without him needing to think about it, as if moved by an ancient memory, a memory older than himself.
His fingers tightened the string, and the air around him contracted, vibrating like a held breath.
The wind rushed beneath his feet, lifted his hair slightly, caressed his outstretched arms as if to guide his movement, a turquoise energy concentrating at the tip of the arrow.
The chief, who was still advancing toward him with a menacing step, frowned, noticing the change in atmosphere.
A brief hesitation crossed his eyes, but he quickly dismissed it.
Venti: "I cannot let this man go."
The bandit leader was about to open his mouth to hurl an insult or an order when a tense hiss cut through the air.
The world seemed to freeze.
The arrow left Venti's fingers, and in the same instant, a gust of wind condensed around the projectile, enveloping it in an almost transparent halo.
It flew like lightning, faster than a human movement, more precise than a practiced shot.
Slash
Venti followed it with his eyes, surprised by its own power.
He felt the wind slip at his back, accompany him, accelerate its course even further as if the air itself had bent to his will.
The impact reverberated through the clearing.
Bam
The arrow lodged itself straight in the chief's chest, just above the heart.
The bandit gasped, his eyes wide with pure astonishment.
Bandit leader: "HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA."
His weapon fell from his hand, his legs buckled, and he fell heavily to the ground in a cloud of dust.
The silence that followed was almost unreal.
The two remaining brigands instinctively released their grips:
- One stumbled backward.
- The other released the girl without thinking, paralyzed by terror. Léona rushed to her father, trembling but unharmed.
Venti, for his part, remained motionless, his arm still outstretched, the bow in his hand vibrating with residual energy.
His breathing was short and ragged, not from fatigue, but from shock.
He lowered his arm slowly, almost cautiously, as if afraid the bow would vanish with the slightest movement.
Venti: "I... I did that?"
He thought.
The wind swirled around him, more gently now, like a beast calming down after an attack.
He felt his skin prickle, his muscles vibrate slightly, as if a dormant power had just been brutally awakened.
He trembled.
Not from fear.
From astonishment.
For deep within him, a familiar, ancient echo whispered:
Venti: "It was natural."
"It's what you deserve."
The chieftain groaned on the ground, doubled over, his trembling fingers gripping the arrow lodged in his chest.
Bandit leader: "HHHHHAAAAAAA."
His hoarse breath mingled with the rustling of the grass.
The two other bandits, seized by panic, immediately threw their hands up in the air.
One of them, a thin man with a shaggy beard, stepped forward hesitantly.
Bandit #1: "Wait!"
"Have mercy!"
"We... we don't want to die!"
"Spare us!"
"We'll do anything you want!"
The second, younger man, almost fell to his knees, his eyes wide and shining with fear.
Bandit N#2: "It's him, it's the leader who forced us!"
"We never meant to hurt anyone!"
"I swear we'll never touch anyone again!"
"Let us go!"
Venti didn't answer right away.
The bow trembled slightly in his hand, still charged with residual energy.
Arlan held his daughter tightly.
His face was tense, but his eyes were fixed on Venti.
Leona watched the scene, not quite understanding, her fingers gripping her father's shirt.
Leona: "Daddy... What's happening?"
The little girl whispered so only her father could hear.
Arlan gently placed a hand on her head, trying to reassure her despite the tremor in his voice.
Arlan's: "Don't look, my dear... it'll be over soon."
Leona nodded, but her large eyes remained fixed on the young boy with the bow.
He seemed more strange than frightening.
The wind swirled around his feet as if playing with him.
The bandit, on his knees, dared to take a step closer, his hands trembling.
Bandit #2: "Please, you've already defeated us, we're no longer a threat!"
"Mercy, let us live."
The first one nodded frantically.
Bandit #2: "We'll disappear!"
"We'll leave this region, we swear!"
"No one will ever hear of us again!"
The leader, lying on the ground, coughed, spitting out blood.
Bandit leader: "You bunch of incompetents, you dare beg a kid for mercy!"
He tried to stand up, but a groan of pain cut him off.
Venti stared at him, then turned his attention back to the other two.
His gaze was anything but childish.
The wind around him softened, almost calm.
He took a step forward.
The two bandits held their breath.
Venti: "If you're lying, I'll find you."
"Those two are lying, and they don't intend to stop."
Venti didn't know where this feeling came from, but he understood that the two men in front of him were lying to him.
He extended his hand forward and fired a short burst of air that sent their hair flying backward, like a warning.
The two men nodded frantically, too terrified to speak.
Arlan's eyes widened in awe.
Leona, for her part, murmured almost innocently:
Leona: "He's making the air move, like in the stories."
The bandits didn't wait any longer:
They took to their heels, disappearing among the trees, leaving behind their weapons and the dying leader.
The clearing fell into an eerily light silence, as if the forest were still holding its breath around the wind-swept boy.
But Venti understood that this story wasn't over.
As Venti finally lowered his bow, his breath still churning with adrenaline, he took a few steps toward Arlan's and Leona to make sure they were alright.
The wind around him had calmed, gliding gently against his skin as if to say the danger had passed or so he thought.
He opened his mouth to ask Arlan's if he was in pain anywhere when, suddenly, an icy sensation shot down the back of his neck.
FFFFFFFFffffffff
Venti: "Huh?"
A pulse.
A silent warning.
An instinct as ancient as himself.
A threat behind him.
Venti: "I knew it!"
Without thinking, without even turning his head, Venti raised his bow.
His fingers tightened on the string, and a wind arrow formed instantly, vibrant, luminous, ready to fly.
Crack
A sharp crack echoed through the bushes.
Heavy breathing.
A hurried step.
The two bandits who had just fled had clearly changed their minds.
Fear had given way to rage or despair—and one of them, armed with a crude blade, was already leaping at Venti, raising his arm to strike from behind.
Bandit #1: "DIE, BASTARD!"
But the young boy was already ready.
He pivoted slightly, without a word, without a cry, as if guided by an invisible force.
Slash.
The arrow left the bowstring with a brutal blast, carried by a gust so intense it bent the grass around them.
The projectile sped through the air in an instant.
A dull crack resounded.
Crack
The arrow lodged itself squarely in the bandit's skull before it even reached Venti.
The man collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut, his heavy body falling face down to the ground, without the slightest groan.
The silence that followed was brutal.
Leona jumped and clung to her father, her eyes wide.
Leona: "................".
Arlan remained perplexed, his mouth slightly open, unable to tear his gaze away from the chilling ease with which this boy had just gunned down a man... without even looking at him.
The second bandit, who had remained a few steps behind, visibly paled.
His legs began to tremble.
He tried to back away, but stumbled and fell to the ground, stifling a cry.
Venti, for his part, remained motionless, his bow still raised, his eyes fixed on the horizon without truly seeing.
His heart was beating fast, but his expression remained cold, almost detached, guided not by cruelty, but by an overwhelming necessity:
- To protect.
But another desire came to him:
- The desire for freedom.
- The desire to free those who are chained.
The wind swirled around him, stronger than ever, as if to emphasize the ever-present threat.
The young boy finally inhaled a long, almost trembling breath before pointing his bow at the last bandit again, without a word.
The last bandit, slumped to the ground, tried to crawl back, his face contorted with terror.
His wheezing breath mingled with his racing heart.
He didn't even dare beg.
He knew it would be useless.
Venti lowered his bow slightly, then, in a fraction of a second, raised it and fired.
Slash
The arrow flew so fast that it left only a barely audible whistling sound.
Bandit #1: "WAIT!"
But it was too late; the arrow pierced the bandit's throat, and he choked with a gurgle before collapsing, stiff, without another sound.
Silence fell once more.
Heavy.
Thick.
As if nature itself were watching.
Arlan held Leona tightly to shield her from the scene, but the little girl, despite her fear, kept one eye open, fascinated and shocked by the power of this boy who seemed barely older than she was.
Venti inhaled, the bow still in his hand.
He finally turned toward the bandit leader, who lay on the ground, half-conscious, the arrow still lodged in his chest. Blood trickled from his mouth with every breath.
When the leader saw the child approach, a mixture of anger and fatalism flooded his eyes.
Bandit leader: "Tch, little monster."
He spat weakly.
Bandit leader: "You think you're tough, huh?"
"You killed my men."
"A kid... barely younger than an adult."
Venti knelt a short distance away, his expression impassive.
The wind gently lifted his hair, like a living veil.
Venti: "I don't think anything of myself."
He replied calmly.
Venti: "But you attacked a child."
"And you were going to kill her father."
The chief gave a muffled, almost mocking laugh that turned into a bloody cough.
Bandit leader: "HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA."
"So what?"
"That's life."
"The weak die, the strong survive."
Venti inclined his head slightly, as if these words had struck him strangely.
An ancient echo resonated within him, a memory of greater principles, of responsibilities, something he couldn't clearly recall but felt deeply.
Venti: "If that's how you see the world, then that's precisely why you must disappear."
The chief snarled, weakly raising his hand as if to grab Venti by the throat, but his arm fell miserably.
Bandit leader: "Good luck living."
" You have no idea what you're going to face."
Venti frowned slightly but didn't reply.
The chief was running out of breath, but he smiled, a twisted smile, almost satisfied with his last words.
Bandit leader: "Sooner or later, you'll be devoured...by what you carry within you."
The wind suddenly grew colder around the young boy, as if in instinctive reaction.
Venti raised his bow one last time.
Venti: "Maybe."
"But you'll never know."
The arrow appeared instantly.
Just moments before, Venti hadn't known where all his arrows came from, but now he understood.
From the beginning, he had been using the same arrow, which kept disappearing and reappearing in his hand.
But this wasn't the time to think about that.
He nocked an arrow onto the bowstring and aimed it at the head of the man lying there covered in blood.
Bandit leader: "See you soon, kid."
Venti: "..................."
"I don't think so."
Venti fired his arrow.
Bam
The projectile pierced the leader's forehead, who froze instantly, a smile still fixed on his lips.
The forest fell into absolute silence, broken only by a light breeze that swirled gently around the boy.
Venti remained motionless, bow lowered, his eyes fixed on the corpse.
He wasn't trembling.
But something deep inside him stirred.
A strange feeling, a mixture of power, instinct, and a disquiet he couldn't yet understand.
Arlan murmured, his voice trembling:
Arlan's: "Thank you."
"Thank you, kid, you saved us."
Venti looked up at him, and for the first time in several minutes, his gaze seemed to soften.
The wind did too.
Venti finally relaxed the tension in his shoulders and slowly stowed his bow, which dissipated a multitude of golden particles, leaving only a slight shiver in the air.
Venti took a few steps toward Arlan's and Leona.
The wind had calmed, become gentle again, almost protective around him.
Arlan's, panting, still held his daughter tightly against his chest, as if to be sure that nothing more could happen to her.
Leona, her eyes still filled with fear and incomprehension, watched Venti with a strange fascination.
Venti: "Are you alright?"
Venti asked, his voice softer than it had been throughout the entire fight.
He knelt slightly to be at Leona's level.
Arlan's took a deep breath before nodding.
Arlan's: "Yes, yes, thanks to you."
"If you hadn't intervened... I don't even want to imagine."
Leona blinked, then timidly extended her hand towards him.
Leona: "Sir... you're like a hero?"
Venti gave a small, hesitant smile, almost embarrassed.
Venti: "A hero?"
"I'm not so sure about that."
The little girl moved a little closer, curious.
Leona: "Does the wind listen to you?"
"Do you talk to it?"
Venti: "I, I don't really know."
"It's... complicated."
Arlan observed the boy, noting his young age, his apparent fragility... and the terrifying power he had just demonstrated.
A contrast that left him perplexed.
Arlan: "What's your name?"
He asked softly.
Venti: "Venti."
The boy replied after a brief silence.
Arlan smiled faintly.
Arlan: "Well, Venti, I owe you my daughter's life."
"If there's anything I can do to thank you."
Venti raised a hand to interrupt him, but suddenly...
A searing pain shot through his skull.
He immediately brought a hand to his head, squinting, and staggering slightly.
Venti: "Ouch."
He inhaled sharply, as if something had shattered inside him.
Arlan's: "Venti?"
Demanda Arlan avec inquiétude.
Arlan's: "Are you alright?"
"What's wrong?"
The boy gritted his teeth.
An image, a word, a foreign sensation crept into his mind.
A name.
A name he had never heard in this life.
He opened his eyes, bewildered, his breath catching in his throat.
Venti: "Barbatos."
He murmured, as if the word burned on his lips.
Leona tilted her head to the side.
Leona: "Who's Barbatos?"
Venti slowly raised his head toward her, lost, his gaze distant.
Venti: "I, I don't know."
He sat up, his hand still on his temple.
Venti: "It's strange, it's like... a memory."
Arlan exchanged a hesitant glance with his daughter.
Arlan: "Perhaps you've been in shock?"
"Or maybe you're remembering something important?"
Venti remained silent for a moment.
Then, in a low, almost trembling voice:
Venti: "Who, who is Barbatos?"
The wind froze.
The forest held its breath.
And Venti understood that this name would change everything he thought he knew about himself.
Chapter 4 : Who is Barbatos ?
The End