Just as she neared the old Liew residence, Clara spotted Brandon and Logan Liew locked in a fierce struggle with several bandits. Without hesitation, she charged forward, flipped her blade, and with a powerful backhand sweep, knocked the three raiders stumbling backward.
The grain sacks they had been fighting over dropped to the ground. Clara kicked the bags aside, then in one smooth motion—blade up, blade down—dispatched the three bandits.
Every slash aimed straight for the neck. The thick cotton coats could dull the blow if she struck anywhere else, but the exposed throat? That was a clean, swift kill.
Once the threat was neutralized, Clara turned around. Brandon and Logan were frozen stiff, staring at her like she was some ghost from legend.
"What are you standing there for? Pick up the grain and head home!" she barked.
The two snapped out of it with a dumbfounded "Oh," then quickly gathered the sacks. With Clara guarding them, they made their way back to the courtyard.
The gate had been broken down. Old Walter and Caleb Liew were holding up a bed board against the doorway, trying to block further entry.
Inside, the women clutched their children, hiding inside the rooms. Tear-streaked faces stared blankly ahead, too shaken to even sob. Ryder and Rosie curled up in their mother's arms, hands over their mouths, trembling, not daring to make a sound.
When Clara entered with Brandon and Logan in tow, the entire family lit up like they'd just seen salvation itself.
"Sister-in-law! You're here?! Are the kids at your place okay? You're all safe?" Kate asked anxiously.
Clara shook her head. "We're fine. Our house is far out and we've got the new wall. They didn't make it to us."
She scanned the courtyard. Chaos everywhere. The New Year's Eve dinner they had just set was now overturned and scattered on the floor. The hens they'd been raising in the cage—gone. Only a broken coop remained.
Thankfully, everyone was alive. A few had minor injuries, but nothing life-threatening.
There were so many people in the house, the bandits had focused on robbing and left quickly. No serious fighting had broken out.
Old Walter had seen chaos like this before. With age came experience. He didn't resist when the armed bandits looted, focusing only on shielding his family.
As for why Brandon and Logan had chased them out the door? Youthful pride. They wouldn't listen and nearly gave the old man a heart attack.
But now, the two remaining sacks of coarse grain had been retrieved—what little they had left.
"They took everything else?" Clara asked, brows furrowed.
Martha Liew nodded heavily. Even the outer layers of their new clothes had been stripped away.
From the next house over came screams—women and children crying out in fear, their shrieks chilling to the bone.
Clara turned to Old Walter and Caleb, still bracing the door with the bed board. "The village head and clan leader are sounding the rally bell. Leave two men to protect the women and children. The rest—grab whatever weapons you've got and come with me."
"If we let the bandits get away with this today, they'll come back again!"
"And next time, it'll be even worse!"
That last line made everyone in the room flinch in fear.
Brandon and Logan immediately stepped forward. "We'll go with you!"
Doreen paled. "We can't beat them! We're all still alive—why not just hide and wait for them to leave instead of throwing our lives away?"
She had a point, and Old Walter secretly agreed—but he still turned to hear what Clara had to say.
Clara said calmly, "We are the weaker ones here. If we endure it today, the strong will only see that bullying us takes no effort. So the next time they're short on food, where do you think they'll come? Here, of course. Because Liew Clan Village is full of cowards with food. We'll be their walking pantry."
"But if we resist—even if we don't win back what's ours—we'll let them know that this village is no easy prey. If they want to take from us, they'll have to break a few teeth. And next time they plan a raid, they'll think twice and pick a weaker village instead."
A simple truth—
The survival rule for the weak in a world ruled by strength.
Doreen went silent. Just the thought of another raid like this was enough to crush her hope.
Seeing no one object further, Clara nodded to Caleb and Old Walter. They shifted the bed board just enough to let the three of them out.
Only one hatchet and one axe remained. Brandon and Logan grabbed them, and the three jogged off in the direction of Brandon's house.
There were fewer bandits on the roads now—but the aftermath outside each home was clear and bloody.
Villagers spotted them passing by. When someone asked, Logan answered loudly, "We're answering the rally call to fight the bandits!"
Dangerous or not, when someone takes the lead, others will follow.
Soon, more villagers armed with hoes, sickles, and sticks fell in behind them. By the time they reached Frank Liew's house, more than twenty village youths were marching at their backs.
The bandits were busy loading grain from Brandon's home onto horses out front. All their manpower was concentrated there, which was why the rest of the roads had seemed relatively quiet.
These raiders clearly hadn't expected resistance. They boldly went about their business in broad daylight.
When the tall bandit leader, wearing a fox-fur hat, spotted Clara's group, his eyes flickered in surprise.
Inside the house, Frank's wife and daughters had been tied up on a table meant for ancestral offerings. Nearby were the corpses of his parents and his three sons—legs broken.
Under threat, Frank had been forced to hand over every last stash of money and grain in a desperate bid to spare his family.
The moment Clara locked eyes with the bandit leader, she loosed her arrow.
It was the signal.
The villagers behind her raised hoes, sickles, and axes—and charged.
Their battle cries echoed across the entire village.
Clara's arrow knocked the fox-fur hat clean off the bandit leader's head. Rage and shock twisted his face. A woman?! This powerful?
But a woman, still.
He sneered and gave the signal. His men mounted up and surged toward her.
Clara crouched, gathered strength—and then launched like a cannonball. In a blink, she was airborne, blade raised, aiming straight for the leader's head.
He narrowed his eyes, tried to knock her out of the air with his ape-like arms.
But when her force met his, crack!—his bones shattered on impact.
Using his arm as a springboard, Clara flipped midair and delivered a brutal spinning kick. Her heavy leather boot struck the bandit leader's head like a whip, sending his 180-pound frame flying across the courtyard.
Clara never left her kills unfinished. She landed and brought the blade down without hesitation.
The entire yard—bandits and villagers alike—froze in awe as a severed arm fell to the ground.
In a desperate move, the bandit leader sacrificed his arm to save his head.
"RETREAT!!" he screamed, blood spraying as he shoved a nearby villager into Clara's path to slow her down.
Damn it!
This backwater village had a monster in woman's skin! If he'd known, he'd never have come here!
The searing pain in his stump drove his instincts—he turned and fled, leapt onto a horse, and bolted.
(End of Chapter)
Enjoying the story? Get early access to new chapters on my Patreon: patreon.com/c/TinaWriterXD
Thank you for your support! 💛