The split second he was confident that the knight could no longer see even a speck of his body, Bastard turned, ducked and rolled as he hit the ground, which had a small layer of hay waiting for him. It wasn’t uncommon for children to play on the walls and for the guards to have an accident.

The agreed method to deal with this was to put some soft hay below and around the perimeter of the walls, not enough to come away unscathed so that they would learn a lesson in caution but enough to generally prevent death.

Combined with a practised roll diverting all momentum and power to the ground, Bastard knew the way to fall from the heights of his home town with little else but a light aftershock.

He knew better than to gloat about his victory and as he recovered, he hit the ground running, sprinting as fast as he could once again.

His mind raced as he body did. What would be the best way out of this situation?

“The closest villages are Gumamo to the north and Kuraru to the south... but that's exactly where that bucket head would expect me to go. Alright. I’ll stay in the woods for half a day and then make my escape, I’ll go back to the town, he’ll never expect that with his thick head and then I’ll-!”

BOOM!

Against his better judgement, Bastard stopped and turned his head to look at the path he came and began to break out in a cold sweat.

The winds turned and the flowers bowed.

The wall he had just jumped from was no longer there… not fully intact anyway.

There was a massive hole and standing in that newly formed entrance was a single figure covered in shadow, but the silhouette was unmistakable.

The Knight in White.

Around his visage were floating bricks, unnaturally suspended mid air around him as if they were hummingbirds he had somehow tamed.

He took two steps forward and then the bricks flew back and reformed the wall they once were a part of. Then it happened again. The Magic Lord seemed to float as he advanced towards the man he was hunting.

Bastard was beginning to become fed up with these turn of events.

"Aw git stuffed ya metal cunt!"

His frustration and moaning was accompanied by fierce stomping as he couldn’t help but let his emotions run freely as the monster approached him.

Any and all diligence that he was taught by the Faith; no matter how small it was, left the boy.

Would anyone really go through this much effort to catch the single debts of a peasant?

He began to ask himself the proper questions and from there began to speculate and imagine all the possible ways his mother could have accrued a ridiculous sum on unpaid loans.

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"Oh, Creator curse you! Mum, you done and fucked me beyond the grave, I'm almost impressed." He muttered under his breath as the hunk of steel came closer.

Bastard looked at the ground where the knight’s feet were and saw… the earth moving as if it were a wave of water, again the actual body of the warrior didn’t even twitch.

Bastard wanted to complain to the Creator and all the universe, asking why it was him of all people who always drew the short straw. He gritted his teeth, tensed his muscles and focused as his wrath began to build. It was useless to complain, it’d do no good.

The truth couldn’t be changed with curses at an ineffectual world.

The chains sprang into action again, flying towards his chest.

He ducked. It took all his reflexes but he dodged the attack… but it didn’t matter.

They wrapped around his body and quickly locked every limb into place.

It was a useless effort, one last action of resistance.

Soon all he could smell was metal. All he could hear was rattling.

The Knight in White closed the gap and stared at him from his helmets shadows.

A single red circular light glowed from within the depths of the darkness and it beheld the prey it caught with what felt like contempt.

"So what will you do now Bastard? I was hoping for a better chase than... this.

"To be honest, I'm disappointed." The deep metallic voice had none of the frankness from before. It was as heavy and as cold as the shell he wore. Bastard’s blood ran cold…but then it began to flare up again.

"Ya sorry git can't you go and get ya jollies some other way than chaining up little boys?"

And with that retort, he spat directly into the crimson orb.

The knight dropped his guard and shook his head to throw off the saliva that got into his eyes.

After he came to stop he laughed.

"Nice. Great. Just what I was expecting from someone like you. Colour me impressed."

What was most disturbing about those words were how genuine they felt, it almost sounded like a heartfelt compliment and Bastard had no idea what to make of it.

And then he remembered that it didn’t really matter…

He bit down on his own lip so hard that a drop of blood fell to the floor.

Was this the end? Was this really all he could have done? Was there no other way out of this?

He couldn’t accept this. Today was the day he was supposed to be free.

Not enslaved for someone else's mistakes of all things! It wasn’t his fault.

His blood began to boil. The fire in his heart began to burn and his soul’s anger was giving it all the fuel it needed to reach new heights of rage. The lava within began to rise, slow at first but gradually it got faster and as it did Bastard’s body trembled with erupting hate.

“Like hell... I’d be robbed of my life by some metal kowtowing cocksucker with a bondage fetish!”

The chains rocked back and forth as if they were struck by an earthquake!

They fell to the floor in an instant. The thud sounding much like clothes being thrown on the ground when their wearer burned with desire…like weights removed from a warrior, like a glass of water tipping over.

He was free and he did not miss a beat.

He lifted his right hand and stretched out his arm and fingers.

The Knight in White flew through the air and crashed into the trees behind him, which snapped just like toothpicks when confronted with the gigantic mass.

Rocks then rose around Bastard, floating in the air like tamed falcons, ready to dive upon their quarry with a whistle.

“Earth Style: Shattering Arrows.”

The words came to his soul from somewhere he didn’t know of but it felt natural, as if it was something he had always known but had simply forgot.

As if he had lost the key to a box and finally found it, it was by his side all along.

They sharp stones bombarded their enemy with unrelenting ferocity, a hailstorm of earth forged blades that had received one single and absolute order.

Kill.