The silence lasted barely a second.
Then the younger brother exploded.
His face twisted with sudden, almost uncontrollable rage. Aren's words—bunch of idiots—had struck harder than a blade.
"Big brother," he growled, gripping the hilt of his sword, "let me handle them."
The older brother turned his head slightly, studied Aren for a moment, then nodded slowly.
"Fine. I'll let you."
He stepped back a few paces, his axe resting on his shoulder, eyes never leaving the scene.
The younger brother advanced.
"You're going to regret what you said."
He attacked without warning.
The sword sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. Aren raised his own just in time.
CLANG.
Steel crashed against steel. The impact jolted up Aren's arm, but he held firm. He pivoted and thrust forward, a quick stab that his opponent deflected immediately.
They exchanged several blows in the span of seconds.
The younger brother was fast. Precise. His strikes weren't wild like those of an ordinary bandit. He knew how to aim, how to search for openings, how to force Aren backward.
Aren clenched his teeth.
He's not bad.
He retreated one step, then another, dodging a horizontal slash before countering with a direct thrust. The fake knight stepped back just enough to avoid the tip, a tight smile curling at the corner of his lips.
"See?" he sneered. "You're not that impressive."
They continued.
The blows grew heavier, faster. The ground crunched beneath their feet. Aren managed to push his opponent back with a sharp strike from the flat of his blade, creating a brief distance between them.
The younger brother stopped.
He drew in a deep breath.
The older brother, still watching from behind, frowned slightly.
"You're going to do it?"
The younger brother nodded.
"Yes."
Then he vanished.
No step back. No feint.
He simply vanished from Aren's field of vision.
"Aren! Behind you!" Jariz shouted.
Aren spun on instinct.
CLANG!
He barely parried an attack from his blind spot, the enemy's blade sliding dangerously close to his neck. The impact was brutal. Aren staggered back a step, startled.
The younger brother was already somewhere else.
This time, Aren understood.
Aura.
His opponent's body was wrapped in an invisible, condensed energy. Not flashy. Just enough to reinforce muscles, reflexes, and speed.
"So you can do that…" Aren muttered.
The fight shifted.
The younger brother attacked again—much faster now. Blows rained down, precise, almost mechanical. Aren raised his sword again and again, blocking, deflecting, protecting his vital points.
But every impact drained him further.
A cut appeared on his arm. Then another on his thigh. Nothing fatal—but together, they weighed heavily.
I need to find an opening.
Aren grits his teeth.
But how? He's really fast.
He barely parried a strike aimed at his throat, then slid backward across the ground.
If I use all my strength now… I won't be able to fight the other one.
His gaze shifted for a split second.
Jariz.
The boy stood in the rear, motionless, bow in hand.
An archer…
An idea formed.
Aren said nothing.
He simply looked at Jariz. A brief, intent glance. Not a clear request. Just intent.
Jariz hesitated for a fraction of a second.
Then he understood.
He slowly slipped behind a tree, using the little mana he possessed to conceal his presence. Not perfectly—but enough that the older brother, focused on Aren, didn't notice.
The younger brother kept attacking.
"You're getting tired," he sneered.
Another thrust. Aren deflected it, but the shock forced a grunt from his throat. Blood trickled from his arms and legs—many shallow cuts, but numerous.
"I'll finish this."
The younger brother concentrated his aura.
Energy compressed along his blade. Not an explosion. A tightening. A clear killing intent.
He leapt.
Straight for Aren's head.
At that exact moment—
An arrow cut through the air.
It came from above. From the left.
The younger brother caught it in the corner of his vision and dodged on reflex, his gaze leaving Aren for a split second as he searched for the source.
That was all Aren needed.
He surged forward.
"Northern Sword Technique — Total Pierce."
His blade drove straight through his opponent's chest.
The impact halted the younger brother mid-motion. His eyes went wide. Blood spilled from his mouth.
"H… how… why…?"
He staggered, looked at Aren, then slowly turned his head.
The older brother was already running toward them.
"Big brother…"
His voice dissolved into a wet gargle.
"Ahh…"
His body collapsed.
Aren pulled his sword free and stepped back, breathing heavily.
The older brother reached the body, dropped to his knees, and pressed his hands against the lifeless chest.
"No!!" he screamed. "What have you done?!"
His voice shook.
"He was my only family… Ever since our parents died."
He raised his head, eyes bloodshot.
"Now I'm alone. Because of you."
Aren looked at him, still in a combat stance.
"It's because of you," he replied calmly. "You underestimated us. You let him fight alone."
The older brother tightened his grip on the axe.
"You're cowards! Attacking with a bow!"
"I'm not a coward," Aren said. "It was a fight. We won. And I never said I was fighting alone."
Silence fell for a moment.
Then the older brother stood.
"Doesn't matter… I'll kill you both. To avenge my brother."
He charged.
Each step shook the ground. His rage was raw, uncontrolled—like a wounded bear.
Aren stepped back half a pace, breath heavy.
"Jariz, get ready!" he shouted.
The axe came down—
The fight was not over.