"Thanks, boss..." Alaric smiled sheepishly, dried beef jerky materializing in his hand, its origin the storage ring he wore.
"Take this." He handed the lad the beef jerky, the young boy's mouth watering as he held it.
He had eaten porridge for so long he forgot the taste of meat.
"Yeah..." he wiped the drool from his lips, and without even properly thanking Alaric, rushed to his mother's side, showing her what he had gotten.
"Where did you get that?" the mother inquired, surprised to see meat.
The boy pointed in the direction of Alaric, but when the mother turned, Alaric was nowhere to be found.
He had already left for his room to muse over the info he had gotten.
...
In his lodging, he lay on his mother's lap, the latter cleaning his ears with a feather, Philip in the neighboring room.
"I guess the effects of war aren't that different here..." he thought to himself, contemplating the info the boy had given.
The town was known as Red Lotus Village, named after the tier-two tower located at the far back of the village.
He taking a mental note to visit the tower later, though the boy said something about it being inactive or something along those lines.
Well, he would see it when he visited.
He was more focused on the society more than its landmarks.
The boy later explained how the town worked and numerous events, from which Alaric pieced together an understanding of the whole situation of the small town afflicted by war.
The town used to be a prosperous one due to the presence of the tower which attracted many adventuring mages.
But the war halted all activities. All able men, mages in the second and third resonance, were drafted to war.
The only ones present were old men or young children, wives and sisters of the men left behind.
From what he inferred, the soldiers exploited their power, sleeping with the wives of those who had gone to war to gain more food and favor, and if you refused, well, they were the law.
And thus the sanctity of most matrimonial beds had been desecrated, as others stuck their necks out for war; others...
He didn't really care for such things because he had seen this many times, such disgusting things common. He wasn't going to judge nor go out of his way to even comment about it.
From this, he could expect trouble to soon occur, but considering his mother was his mother, there was no need to worry.
He only had to check the tower out before they left the town. He was to meet Maria in such a tower when he grew stronger after all.
Knock!! Knock!!
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, Raika frowning as she hated it when someone disturbed her quiet time with her son.
"Name yourself," she roared, her voice thick with irritation.
"An arrogant little lady."
The door was kicked open, three men clad in crimson at the door, the stench of alcohol heavy on them, drowsy lustful gazes settling on Raika.
They looked, sizing Raika up, undressing her with their eyes.
She wasn't petite, neither plump, a figure in the middle, neither thick nor slim, in the middle, the perfect ratio.
Her brows raised in confusion, then quickly to disgust, which warped into fury.
Before they could even step in, lightning flashed in their vision, their drowsiness and drunkenness instantly evaporating, hairs standing on end both from fear and the static charges from the dancing yellow electricity linking the roof to the wooden floors.
"You belong to the Vulcan Army, yet look at me with such vulgar eyes," she snapped, the lightning descending on them.
"Wait!" Alaric exclaimed, the lightning seemingly frozen in time, halting mere inches from the top of their heads, occasionally crackling with energy, ready to descend on the three who had already peed their pants.
They were but third-resonance mages, mages who could conjure their elements from the mana and shape it however they wanted.
But considering they were here to protect instead of drafted to war, they were surely children of nobles or weak individuals who hadn't mastered third-resonance magic, and even if they had, in the face of Raika's absolute might, they were nothing.
"Why did you stop me..."
Raika turned to her son, her head tilted in confusion.
"They might be scum, yet the number of soldiers here isn't enough. Killing them will affect the people in the long run..." Alaric explained.
The soldiers unconsciously nodded at Alaric's words, cursing their luck for whoever had pushed them to come here.
They were drinking when they heard a noble-looking bunch had arrived in the village, with them a top beauty who was sure to meet their standards.
As they were law here, they believed they could have their way and get some compensation even if they didn't get to do it with her, but never did they guess their current circumstances.
"Is my son as spineless as his father?" Raika thought, Alaric's logical analysis sounding like weakness to her ears.
But his next words changed her momentary judgment.
"Just strike off their junk, that shouldn't interfere with their work..." he added with the most innocent smile.
The color completely drained from the faces of the soldiers. To them, the six-year-old looked more terrifying than the crackling lightning dancing above their heads.
Raika's face beamed, a smile showing her pride in her son blossoming on her face.
"You take after me after all," she laughed as she descended the lightning, not onto their heads as it was earlier intended, but directly onto their family jewels.
The lightning finely tuned, burning a hole through their armor, their family jewels burnt to a crisp, the heat from the lightning closing off the wound before the could bleed out.
They fell down, the pain too much for their brains to handle, an automatic shutdown initiated, their hands lingering inches away from their family jewels.
"Hahaha, you truly are the son of the thunder princess." Raika picked Alaric up, kissing his cheeks intently, Alaric laughing as he enjoyed it, his gaze narrowed as it stared intently at the three men collapsed, foaming at the mouth.
"Scum!"
___________
.
.
.
A/N
1/1