Fifteen minutes had passed while both bodies were sprawling on the open ground. The panting and choking had gradually faded, giving way to the tranquility of morning sunshine.
As the sun started revealing itself, Jack pushed himself up with his right arm, his mana pool somewhat refilled.
Something’s off, his instinct told him.
It had been too long considering the quantity of poison absorbed and the body condition of the bandit. Jack hadn’t been tracking the mana flow of his opponent but instead waiting for the system’s notification.
Strangely enough, nothing had appeared yet.
“JACK!” A loud voice called from a distance.
Jack turned his head and saw Abraham running at him at full speed.
“RUN!” His adopted father screamed, his voice low and shaky, seeing the enormous body behind Jack crawling its way toward him.
Without turning his head around, Jack knew what was happening. He activated Shadow Dance and tried to run forward, but to no avail. As the light glimmered, pushing back the shadow of the night, Jack could feel the Nightblade’s penalties slowly taking effect. His movement became sluggish, and Presence of the Night grew useless.
Still, Jack used all he had to lean forward. His legs felt like being torn apart, operating the mana here to overdrive. Then, the thing that held him back was also the thing that had won him the fight. His paralyzed left lower arm, dangling back as he tried to run forward, was caught by the bandit.
“You were being cocky, kid,” the thug still had some strength left for the mockery, his voice croaky and his breath putrid.
Only now did Jack turn around and have a look at his opponent. The bandit’s body was twisted beyond recognition. The poisons had had their way with him, eroding the flesh, leaving behind an abomination of cracked skin, liquidized muscle, and dark gooey blood spilling out from whatever hole they could find. Black Flame was still on him, incinerating all it could.
At the center of the broken man, right under what used to be his chest, a source of power was accumulating, waiting to be unleashed.
Jack tried to tug his arm, but the pure physical strength of a Crusader was enough to hold him in his place. Blood burst out of his arm under the pressure of the grip. Abraham's voice could still be heard from a distance; the closer it got, the more panic it became. Jack used his other arm to pull out a blade. He sliced the bandit’s deformed arm, but when the blade touched the bone, it barely scratched it.
The thug opened his lips and showed his teeth. Jack wasn’t sure if it was the pain or the man was just smiling. The orb of mana inside of him started to change. It was no longer sucking in but instead leaking out as its size grew. The face staring at Jack was consequently stretched to its limit.
Cut it off.
Without hesitation, Jack swung the blade up and changed the trajectory of his next blow. The move was made, and Jack screamed in pain. The knife was momentarily stopped mid-cut as the shock overwhelmed Jack. Still, he regathered himself, bit his teeth, and roared, focusing all of his energy on his right arm.
Jack’s senses grew blurry, and the air around him felt so tight. He couldn’t hear his own screaming nor the sound of his limb dropping to the ground. Without Shadow Dance and Presence of the Night, all he had left was his own natural strength as well as the mana manipulation method of Warrior. The explosion occurred, and Jack took a final leap, trying to create as much distance as possible. Mana swirled up in a storm of blue energy, coming out from inside of the bandit’s body as his own flesh crumbled into dust.
You have used 5 stat points.
Your Strength Attribute increased from 31 to 40.
Your Spirit Attribute increased from 31 to 37.
Your remaining stat points: 0.
Jack raised his right arm, creating a simple shield. The added Spirit stats helped him fortify his lackluster mana pool, and he would need Strength to brace himself for the impact, limiting the damage from the explosion and its aftershock.
Even with all of that, the destructive energy wave was still too much for his defense, piercing the shield at multiple spots and impaling Jack’s body. The situation seemed to worsen, but all he could do now was to allow the chaotic force to blow him along with the dust and wind as far away as possible. He only hoped it wouldn’t blow his life away in the process.
Jack was tossed with speed, and if it weren’t for Abraham catching him, he would surely crash to his death. The head of the Harper household had tried his best to channel some mana, overcoming the restriction from the handcuff, to increase his own endurance. Seeing Jack coming his way, he spread his arms out and used his own body like an emergency brake. He had to catch Jack while falling back because hitting him standing still was no different than hitting a rock cliff. He knew the little body inside his arm was tougher than everything he had ever known, but at that moment, all he wanted was to be as gentle with it as possible. All the mana he could muster, he used it for this purpose.
And this time, Abraham had saved his son.
Jack rolled out of his father’s arms as soon as the two stopped. Choking and shook, he pushed his hand hard on the ground, resisting the urge to throw up every one of his inner organs. He took a deep breath, then used a crystal to operate his mana and stop his wounds from bleeding again. The destructive force from the blast had left him with some more holes to worry about.
Abraham also had a few cracks on his bones after the impact. Still, he held back his frowning to come close and put a hand on Jack’s shoulder.
“Are you alright, son?” He gently asked.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“I’m fine,” Jack whispered. “Just give me a few minutes.”
Abraham nodded, then looked back toward the battlefield. Nobody would ever believe if he said his son, a Herald, had just finished off a Crusader Warrior, only to lose one arm and a couple of terrible wounds.
His emotion was a mess. He felt guilty for his own negligence but still smiled at his son, leaving him behind to search for any spoil that might help the two of them.
After absorbing an ample amount of mana to stabilize his mana cycle, Jack opened his eyes and saw Abraham sitting in front, examining a slivery ring. The cuffs on his hand were gone, and the energy of a Crusader once again emitted around him. The bandit would have been child play facing him at this state. Jack shook his head, stopping the flow of unnecessary thinking.
“You sure are a gambler!” Abraham opened the conversation.
Jack was going to shrug, but it hurt him, so he smiled instead.
“What’s just happened?”
“Mana core self-destruction,” Abraham answered. “I’m truly sorry for not letting you know sooner. When you reach Crusader, your body will change, creating a place to store extra mana instead of just letting them cycle through your veins like a Herald. From this point onward, you could also use this as your final desperate resort to go out with your enemy. The more energy you manage to channel, the more powerful the explosion will be. Usually, nobody would have the time to activate it since their head was cut down and whatnot. But in some cases, like the one you just had, you know what will happen now. Therefore, Maesters are really bad in the fighting department. You don’t hear much about all of this at school since they prefer more peaceful and less savage stuff. Oxdale doesn’t have many high rankers either, and monsters are not smart enough to suicide themself.”
Jack nodded, ignoring the thing about the apology. Even if he had known about this, he would still have been too paralyzed by the grenade to escape the blast radius. The bandit boss must have had other plans to go down with him.
“I thought the inventory ring was destroyed too,” Jack said.
“Well, stuff like this,” Abraham put the ring in front, “they won’t be destroyed that easily. Herald ring, maybe, but this is a Crusader one we’re talking about. The space inside is much wider, and its durability is top-notch.”
“Anything interesting in there?” Jack’s eyes opened wide.
“Let's just say your arm was not a bad investment. Some of the most precious items in the caravan are kept here. I would do the same if I were the bandit. Without careful planning, these things could be traced back when smuggled out to the market. There is also some paperwork that the houses around here will find interesting.”
“What about the money…?”
“The money,” Abraham said, “will be used on medicine to grow back your arm.”
Jack instinctively waved his hand in rejection but accidentally used his left arm, turning the moment awkward.
“It’s fine. I don’t need it,” Jack said, “an artificial arm is good for me.”
“And where will you also get the money for this artificial arm?” Abraham frowned.
“I’ll manage it!” Jack insisted.
Seeing Jack once again ignoring everything opposing his intentions, Abraham shook his head.
“One week,” Abraham suggested. “In one week, if you don’t show up before me with both arms intact, then I will chuck that limb regenerating medicine down your throat myself.”
Abraham didn’t mention one crucial detail, that the money in the ring was nowhere near the compensation required for the failed contract. Losing some of the household’s assets was almost inevitable now and something he would have to be very considerate about. So, he was actually hoping Jack would succeed in getting a new arm by himself.
Jack raised his arms in agreement. Abraham frowned even harder, seeing the boy do that.
“A shame, though,” Abraham changed the subject. “If there were more clues, we could have negotiated for a reduce compensation through the local authority.”
“Actually, I had thought about that.”
Abraham had never frowned harder in his life.
“Do you still remember the one who grabbed my throat?”
Abraham nodded in annoyance.
“I can call him here or track him down. Depending on what you want, we will find him and figure out what the rest of them have done to our cargos.”
“You…” Abraham mumbled.
Even in a situation like this, Jack was still thinking of the best outcome for the Harper. Abraham would have felt better if his son had just been rampaging the battle without a single thought. Hearing these words burdened him.
The head of the Harper household tried to change the subject again, taking out around twenty mana crystals and giving them to Jack.
“I will be borrowing the ring for a while,” he said. “I’ll give it back to you after I handle some business. Here are the rest of the crystals inside. I think you’ll need them.”
“This few?” Jack let the complaint slip out.
Abraham opened his eyes wide and laughed. He knew Jack had been using the Corvus’ “farewell gift” to get some crystals by himself. But, his son didn’t realize that the amount he had spent, for some people, would be a fortune, even though it was no more than a penny in the eyes of one of the most powerful houses of the empire.
“A Crusader shock grenade costs around fifty crystals on the market,” Abraham answered. “He also had a gang to manage and pay for, so it’s normal for him to cut his cost. If he had more stuff than this, I bet we would have an even harder time dealing with him. The job he did against our house must have cost him quite a bit.”
“Not a very smart investment, right?” Jack said, then realized once again how awkward he had made the conversation.
The Harper had also had such an investment.
“I think we have enough rest now,” this time, Jack changed the subject. “Can you carry me back?”
Abraham smiled, then held his son and put the boy on his back. The memory of a few years ago returned to him when Jack had just moved to the Harper.
Holding his father somewhat haggard back, Jack had for himself a comfy moment after an eventful day. Abraham’s movement was once again quick, strong, and steady. Still, he made sure Jack would have a smooth trip.
“Aren’t you surprised seeing a kid like me murder somebody?”
Jack couldn’t see his father's expression, for the man didn’t look back.
“Around your age, your grandfather was very harsh on me!” Abraham recalled, his voice distanced and sorrowful. “There was this enemy of our house, his back against the wall, s he tried to murder my mother. He failed, but the wound he left that day made sure she wouldn’t survive for long. A few years later, when I was thirteen, my father tracked him down, forced him to kneel before me, and told me to take his life, for I hadn’t been able to protect my mother even though I had been awakened and trained by then. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was scared. Then, my father did something I could never have imagined. He let the man go, telling me he no longer needed such a useless child, and if the intruder could get past that cowering kid in the corner over there, he would be free to go. Only when my life was on the line did I attack and kill him. It turns out I was capable all along, but I was only so when it was about me. Your grandfather was even more disappointed. He was soon consumed by his loneliness and the grief of not teaching me to kill earlier. His heart failed him, and he left this world not long after. These days, a part of me realized your grandfather wasn’t all that cruel. Maybe he was just too afraid of losing me too.”
Jack remained silent. Without the tempering of World No.146, he wouldn’t have had the heart to put down anyone who dared touch his family and friends. He couldn’t tell if it was a good or bad thing that the memory of the first one to fall before his blade was now nothing more than a blur.
“It’s a cruel world,” Abraham whispered.