Erik walked slowly across the streets. His steps echoed the weight he felt, this time not by snow but by his sins. It had been almost a year since his father died and yet he felt like things were only spiraling downwards.
Money wasn’t a problem anymore and he could afford everything he needed but his heart ached every morning just by thinking of what he’d have to do. From petty robberies to kidnapping and assaulting defenseless people. He had seen and helped with everything since he joined the gang.
Erik hadn’t killed anyone yet but he wasn’t stupid, that was going to happen eventually if he kept going along this crowd – not like he had any way to refuse them anyway.
The gang consisted of 7 members counting on him. They all were aged between 20 and 40. They were mostly normal, albeit bulky people, who weren’t very skilled with weapons. When they fought, they would use clubs or simply their fists.
The sole exceptions were Rat, the scrawny and short member of the crew. He was the brain of the bunch and used long knives to fight. Zac, the leader, however, was the strongest.
He was larger and more muscular than most people. Adding on to that, he also had an awakened mana core—and differently from Erik, Zac could actually use it in combat. He had the so-called Wolf Fist, a technique where he’d concentrate for a couple of seconds and his fists would be enveloped by a golden aura. With that trump card, he was able to kill a grown man in one strike—truly a big threat.
‘They are not people I can go against…’ Erik conceded, he was still a kid after all. Even if he bought a good knife from a blacksmith—one that could easily slash human flesh and go through tough clothes like butter—he doubted he could kill a man with twice his arm reach and with much more power than himself. If only he was as strong as his father, he wouldn’t have to fear no one.
After a while of walking, Erik pulled up the hood of his cloak to conceal his identity. The darkness of the night helped provide some measure of anonymity, a necessity for the task ahead. Pausing at the edge of the dimly lit street, he cast a cautious glance around, his senses sharp and alert.
Zac had issued the order to prepare for their most ambitious heist yet – the grandest mansion in town, ripe for the taking under the cloak of darkness. Erik had mostly grown accustomed to the life of petty crime and violence in the months since joining them but it still felt like a daunting task for him.
“So, what exactly are we after?” Erik inquired, turning to the scrawny figure beside him.
The man, known as John—or more commonly as Rat—scratched his stumbled chin before replying.
“Deep within the chambers of this Lord’s mansion, there should be a chest of valuables. We are to only bring it to Zac, he’ll know what to do with it,” he said with a low voice.
“And are we the only ones going to work on this?”
“No,” Rat shook his head. “Victor and Mat will be waiting on us outside to help us escape if necessary.”
‘So that’s a yes pretty much,’ Erik answered in his head. It made some sense when he thought about it, besides him and Rat all the other members of the gang were at least a head above the average of male adults and they were extremely bulky. Compared to them, a kid and a semi-anorexic adult were stealth masters.
Erik and Rat scaled the mansion's walls with ease, slipping into the shadows like it was natural to them. For such an opulent house, the security was surprisingly lax. They quickly picked the lock on the front door, slipping inside without a sound.
The gang had been meticulously scouting the mansion for weeks. Their surveillance revealed that only one guard patrolled the grounds at night, a man who seemed more interested in dozing off than doing his guard duty. His patrol route was predictable, a monotonous loop that left large portions of the property unwatched. Timing their move perfectly, Erik and Rat bypassed his route and gained entry through a door on the opposite side of the estate. They should have around thirty minutes before he’d see that anything is out of normal, more than enough time.
Upon infiltrating the mansion, Erik and Rat navigated through the dark corridors, their footsteps barely audible against the polished wooden floor—especially Erik’s footsteps due to his technique. Shortly afterward they reached the designated room, where Rat lit a candle he had to illuminate their surroundings.
As the flickering light danced across the walls, the mansion's owner who was sleeping right until this moment woke up and recoiled in fear at the sight of his intruders.
“What are you—” he didn’t manage to say anything more before Rat shut his mouth with a hand and held a knife to his neck. The man who was still in his sleeping robe couldn’t do anything against Rat.
“Listen closely,” he said in the man’s ear. “We are looking for some kind of chest that you have that is filled with magic items. Help us and you don’t have to die this time,” his words were clear as day as he made the dagger seep deeper into the man’s neck, drawing some blood. Finally, he allowed him to speak.
“What a way to wake up!” he laughed at the situation before being hit in the head.
“Don’t joke about this or I'll have to make you talk.”
“Damn, such an angry lad you are…” the man now said in a more serious tone, pinching his grown mustache. He didn’t seem scared at all of what was transpiring. “Alright, but as Duke Phillips of Frosthollow, I command you to unhand me at once. Or perhaps you’d like to kill me and have hundreds of men in this town by tomorrow looking for you.”
Rat gulped slowly upon hearing the threat and drew back his dagger. “Alright, I promise that I won't hurt you if you just give us what we want.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“And this young boy, is he one of you?” Phillips asked, completely ignoring what was said just now.
“Y-Yes,” Erik answered just as he remembered that face. That was the first person he stole from, that one from months prior. Could he have recognized Erik’s face as well?
“That’s a real shame…” he sighed as if disappointed.
The Duke then proceeded to tell both of them where the chest was and volunteered to show them.
“Well, this would be a tour of my nice home in normal circumstances but I gotta make it quick before my subordinate shows around,” Phillips laughed as he led the way.
There was a strange feeling in the air, it was more like Erik and Rat were more scared than he was.
A few moments later, he pushed a door open to reveal a room with shelves filled with ancient books and strange artifacts. In the center of the room, was the chest they were after.
Rat approached the chest cautiously, glancing back at the Duke to ensure he wasn’t making any sudden moves.
“Don’t be scared, it arrived just last week so I didn’t use any of it at all. These high-grade magic scrolls are ready to be used,” Phillips said, smirking with crossed arms.
Rat slowly nodded and went to pick up the chest. As Rat lifted the chest, the Duke leaned down to Erik and whispered in his ear, “I remember you from that time… look, I can help you get out of this life, boy. It doesn’t have to be like this. I don’t know your story but I realize the number of orphans this war has brought us, I’ll do my best to help you if you confide in me right now,” he pointed to the inside his robes, where Erik glimpsed something that looked like a knife.
Erik stopped in his tracks for a moment, his train of thought completely directed to this. Perhaps this could be it, his way to be able to live comfortably and not risk his well-being anymore.
“No…” he answered, after thinking for a few seconds, if he decided to betray the gang now he couldn’t imagine what unspeakable things Zac could do with his powers, besides, he didn’t want to be indebted to a powerful noble.
The duke gave him a disappointed look. “I see,” he sighed.
Afterward, Erik and the Duke shared no more words. Erik helped Rat get the chest out of the mansion and give it to the rest of the gang. Erik was then dismissed for the day and went home—always making sure that no one saw where he lived.
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Alice sat in the dimly lit kitchen, the warm glow of the candle barely cutting through the darkness that had settled over their lives. She wrapped her thin scarf tighter around her neck, trying to stave off the cold that seemed to seep into her bones ever since she had fallen ill. Her children had long gone to sleep, she had no reason to be waiting for anyone – well, except for one.
Erik was still gone. For the past couple of months, his work schedule has been erratic. Sometimes he’d stay several days home and then disappear for a few weeks. He would come back home at late night and leave by midday.
Sometimes she noticed bruises on his face but every time she asked about it, he dodged the question.
Something wasn’t right.
When the door finally creaked open and Erik stepped inside, Alice felt a sense of relief. But that quickly faded as she took in his tired, worn expression, and the way he avoided looking at her.
"Erik, you're home late again," she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady despite the worry that clung to her every word. "Where have you been?"
Erik's eyes darted away from hers as he closed the door behind him. "I told you, Mom, my job has been weird lately. Sometimes they request me to stay working more than expected."
Alice’s hand tightened around the edge of the table, her knuckles whitening as she forced a small, wavering smile. The words that had been meant to reassure her only deepened the ache in her chest. She had heard this before, the same reassurance wrapped in the same strained tone, and each time it chipped away at her already fragile heart. Her eyes, lined with fatigue, tried to search for any kind of truth in Erik’s face, any sign of what was happening. She couldn’t find any as he wouldn’t meet her gaze.
"Erik," she began, trying to keep herself calm. "I know you're trying to help, but explain it to me—where is this money coming from? We've been struggling for so many months after Kaf’s death, and now suddenly you have enough to buy all the food, tools, and anything we need? It just doesn’t add up to me."
She watched as Erik’s jaw tightened, his posture growing more defensive. He still wouldn’t meet her gaze, staring instead at the floor or the door to his room.
"I work a lot, okay? It's nothing for you to worry about," Erik insisted, his tone sharp, almost pleading as he tried to walk past her.
But Alice couldn’t let it go. She reached out, grabbing his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles, the way he flinched at her touch. "Work?" she repeated, her voice trembling slightly as she searched his face. "What kind of work, Erik? At first, I gave you the benefit of the doubt, but every time I see the look in your eyes when you come home, I know something’s off. I’ve noticed the bruises and cuts on your arms and face almost every week. This isn't honest work, is it?"
"I told you, Mom, don’t worry about it. Just let it go," Erik said through gritted teeth. His arms trembled as he tried to leave this situation.
Alice felt a lump form in her throat as she looked at her son. The boy had grown too fast and had been burdened too much, and it was all her fault. She had tried to be strong for him, for all of them, but she knew she had failed. She had been too weak, too sick, too consumed by her own grief and illness to protect them as she should have.
She gulped her pride. Alice couldn’t even try to believe she had tried to be strong when she was inadvertently avoiding her family.
"Your father, Kaf, would be heartbroken if he knew you were involved in this kind of activity, Erik," she whispered, her voice barely holding together. "He believed in doing what's right, no matter how hard it was," she said, appealing to the figure they all respected.
The mention of Kaf’s name made Erik’s entire body tense. She saw the anger flare in his eyes, the pain that he had been holding back finally bursting to the surface.
“Why do you have to bring him up now… you haven’t done anything this past year, if it wasn’t for me we’d all be dead by now!” Erik’s voice exploded in the small kitchen.
She watched him with wide eyes, unable to respond as the truth in his words cut deep. She felt the tears well up, the guilt she had been carrying for so long breaking through her fragile composure. The dam finally broke.
After many painful moments of silence, she finally opened her mouth. “I’m sorry for being such a terrible mother… I was too weak… I failed all of you,” she whispered, her voice cracking as the sobs took over. She could barely see through the tears that streamed down her face, her body shaking with the weight of her failure.
She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Erik, knowing that she had let him down, that she had let all of them down.
Through her blurred vision, she saw Erik’s fist trembling. He remained still, however. For a moment, she thought he might say something, anything, to bridge the gap that had grown between them. But instead, he turned away, storming out of the house without another word.
The door slammed shut behind him as he ventured into the cold night. Alice collapsed into the ground, her sobs echoing in the empty kitchen. She was alone again, with nothing but her guilt and the knowledge that she had failed her son, failed her family. She had driven him away when all she had wanted was to protect him.
“I’m sorry… for failing… as your mother,” she muttered, wishing he would hear her, wishing he would come back.