The next morning did not start like any of the days before. For Brandon, being woken up by his neighbors was a regular occurrence. Jiran appreciated the experience just as much as Brandon had.
With a snarl, Jiran threw himself to his feet and stomped out of his cave to find out why the monkeys were making so much noise.
The moment he stepped foot outside the cave and looked around, the monkeys stopped their screeching and banging. Jiran glared at them in annoyance and looked around for any clues as to why they were being such poor companions.
Calm winds blew over the trees in the twilight. The birds and bugs ceased their songs at Jiran’s arrival. The world stood still, and a sense of peace permeated the overabundance of nature.
The monkeys stared at Jiran.
Jiran stared at the monkeys.
“By the voice, what has gotten into you cretins? I’m going back to sleep, Keep it down.”
Jiran turned to walk back into his cave. The moment his back was to the clever beasts they resumed their racket. Jiran whirled around to face the monkeys once more, and again they immediately went silent.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
He took a threatening step toward the tree they were currently in. The monkeys leaped through the air to the next tree, gazing at him expectantly.
After he took a few more steps, they moved again.
Are they trying to get me to follow them?
To test his theory, Jiran turned away from the monkeys and pretended to walk back to his cave.
They predictably resumed their clamor, and when Jiran once more moved to follow, they quietly led him further into the woods.
Might as well see what's got their fur up. Probably just something that doesn't want to follow them and looks tasty.
Jiran considered going back for his spear but decided against it. He was far more deadly with two open hands blasting shapings than with the pointy stick.
After half an hour of silently creeping behind the monkeys, doubt crept in. An hour after that, Jiran was about to head back to the cave. He was thirsty, and First Father would be up soon.
He did not want to miss his precious morning routine because he was following a bunch of conniving scavengers aimlessly through the forest.
A crash shattered the relative peace of the morning. Then he heard the sounds of men yelling, more crashes, and finally, silence.
Jiran hesitated, his thoughts a blur as he considered the possibilities.
Why are there people out here? Never mind, dumb question, I don't even know where here is. I assumed I was close to Feylon but that doesn't have to be the case.
Could be hunters, could be bandits, could be someone needing help. They might have already died and all I'll find is a field of corpses being eaten by a beast.
I need to go take a look, this is too close to my cave to not investigate. If it's something I can't handle, I'll just fly away and find a new cave.
Jiran moved through the woods slowly and cautiously. Every leaf blown by the wind was investigated with intense paranoia.
He was fed up with constantly being ambushed. So he took his time and didn’t let his focus drop for even a second.
Which was why Jiran was so surprised when a strong, heavy hand came from behind and clamped over his mouth.
Jiran began to thrash, but suddenly a powerful weight slammed into his knees bringing him to the soft forest floor.
"Hold still yah daft git," came an unfamiliar and gruff voice.
The weight of the person on his back drove the air from Jiran's lungs. The pain of being crushed was a sobering reminder that he was just a child and could easily be overpowered by an adult.
Getting a firm hold on his panic, Jiran was about to unleash a barrage of lightning on the offensive-smelling bastard pinning him down. However, a pair of boots entered his vision and Jiran paused.
Of course he's not alone. I'm not sure I can stop several people at once without accidentally killing them. I don't even know what they want.
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Jiran stilled his thrashing, then nodded to communicate he understood the command.
Several brutal seconds passed as the desire to breathe built in Jiran's chest. Finally, the weight on his back eased and sweet air filled his lungs once more.
"Good, now don't try nuttin or Koery here gunna stick yah."
The oppressive weight continued to relent until Jiran was free to move again. The hand that was clamped to his mouth released.
Having regained his mobility, Jiran was able to move his head and get a good look at the people around him.
Filthy, was his first observation. Who would choose to live covered in all that mud and filth? Not the filth of a tussle in the dirt either, but layers of putrid grime from weeks, maybe months, without a bath.
Bandits.
Boots, also known as Koery, was tall. Taller than Micah but skinny as a leaf. He held a spear pointed at Jirans head.
The fat bastard who liked turning kids into pancakes was short, nearly as round as he was tall. He wore a leering smile on his face that wouldn't fool anyone into thinking he had good intentions.
I bet he has no idea how ugly he is.
The last of the trio was fit and muscular, with sharp features, brown hair, and bright gray eyes. Jiran doubted he ever had trouble finding a girl to warm whatever puddle of mud he slept in.
A long-forgotten disgust welled up in Jiran at the sight of the man. To be so filthy, wearing old, beaten-up leather armor, and still be so man-pretty was a sin. The part of Jiran that was Brandon’s memories, instantly despised him.
On multiple occasions Brandon had been interested in a beautiful girl only to have some random pretty-boy swoop in and steal her at the last minute. A lifetime of anger and resentment unconsciously bled into Jiran’s thoughts.
Jirans thoughts were interrupted by a hand smacking the back of his head hard enough to cause him to stumble forward a step. Bringing him far too close to Boot's spear.
"Yuh don't be making that face at Lars boy, yuh gunna learn quick who yer betters be."
Fury flared inside of Jiran like a tidal wave. He had been ambushed, again. Yelled at, sat on, smacked, and now threatened.
He had learned from his mistakes of freezing at any sign of danger.
Enough was enough. If these men wanted a fight, they were going to get one.
Jiran pulled on his mana, ready to zap these hoodlums enough to make them wish they slept in, instead of coming into his woods before First Father had even risen.
The look of anger and disgust on his face gave away his violent intentions. Boots was the first to move.
Quick as a snake he lashed out with the butt of his spear. He brought the weapon around in an arc, the brown wood of the haft turned into a blur as it sped towards Jiran's head.
To Jiran, the weapon and wielder might as well have sat down with him over a cup of tea and told him exactly what they intended an hour before doing it.
The muscle movements started in Boot's neck, to support his head as he leaned forward. His left shoulder flexed next, supplying the power to whip the weapon around.
Before the willowy man moved an inch, Jiran was leaning forward. With bent knees, he brought his head beneath the butt of the spear as it sailed above him. Jiran pushed off the ground, both legs flooded with mana.
By the time the spear should have met with Jiran's skull, his hand was firmly pressed to Boot's chest. With a snarl, Jiran released his mana.
Long hours of practice with the cube had honed his control and speed of thought. This meant the current of electricity that was released did exactly as Jiran intended.
To the two men spectating the exchange, it looked like the child fell forward just as Koery swung his spear. Then the boy disappeared and a crackling sound preceded Koery shooting backward into a tree.
Jiran's next move was just as impossible to follow for the two men. Jiran, with one hand outstretched in front of him and one behind, spun to face Fatty. A blast of fire in the palm behind him flashed so quickly it could have been a mirage, but Jiran's body shot forward like a bullet.
Before the round man could even blink, another explosion of sound heralded the bandit slamming into a tree. The unlucky man careened off the tree at an angle and smashed into another before his momentum was arrested.
Pretty Boy reached for his sword. He clutched the hilt and began to pull when the small hand of a child lightly gripped his wrist.
For a brief second the two locked eyes before the man was filled with enough current to incapacitate two Tier three beasts.
His body convulsed as all of his considerable muscles contracted repeatedly. Jiran let go of his wrist as the man fell to the ground in a boneless heap.
Did I go a bit overboard just because he's too man-pretty for his own good?
Nope, definitely not.
Before Jiran could fully consider the implications of what he had just done, booming laughter resounded from above him.
Jiran whipped his head around to track the sound and found a man calmly sitting on a high tree branch. The man was well-dressed and clean. With black clothing, dark hair and eyes, he was hard to spot in the twilight.
"That was well done kid, well done. You nobles sure don't go easy when it comes to training your children, do you?"
The man vanished as he finished his question. Before Jiran could even process the movement there was a dagger pressed to his throat. The dark man, more shadow than human, loomed in front of him.
"This is exactly why I always send some fodder to test the waters before making my move. I'll give you a choice, kid. Come with me quietly and do what I say, or I'll just kill you now. I don’t need any more complications, so if you're going to be one, then you can just die."
The look of complete dismissal on his face was matched by his dark emotionless eyes.
He won't hesitate for a second to slit my throat and he moves like Samris does when he forgets to slow himself down for the people around him.
He's way too powerful for me to beat, I would die before I could even move. I need to be cautious.
"I understand, I'll do as you say." Jiran didn't see any other option if he wanted to keep his head attached to his neck.
"Good, and since you knocked out my worthless slaves there, I'll be having you carry my catch back to camp."