Kill them!
- Kill!
- Destroy everyone! - the roar of the pirates' furious cries echoed across the square. Each time Marcello shouted "death sentence", the cold blades thirsted for blood, preparing for their work.
Marcello looked at his subordinates with satisfaction, and then raised his hand. His fingers closed into a fist, and his hand slammed down: - Proceed with the execution!
These words seemed to be the signal for battle. But instead of waiting for the pirates to rush into the attack, Marcello himself took the initiative, taking a powerful step forward and rushing towards the enemy.
The villagers, although not accustomed to real battles, still had experience hunting large animals. This made them masters of fighting in groups, using a strategy of encirclement and simultaneous attack. Therefore, if someone tried to break through their formation thoughtlessly, it only led to senseless losses. The only way to break a battle formation is to destroy it from the inside with a powerful blow, tearing the formation apart. And then it is up to the subordinates to finish off the remnants. And who, if not the great captain Marsello himself, possessed such strength?
He rushed forward with long strides, almost running. The fire burning in his chest only grew stronger. However, in response to his rush, the village archers also raised their bows, and dozens of arrows flew straight towards him.
Marcello just laughed loudly, crossing his arms in front of his face, protecting his vital points. The arrows hit his body, but, unable to penetrate his skin, fell to the ground, as if powerless.
He let out a loud roar and suddenly flew into the air. In mid-air, his right hand clenched into a fist. And all the strength in his body was concentrated in this blow. Due to this, even before the fist reached its target, a powerful gust of wind fell upon the villagers.
The village chief raised his head. His eyes, full of wrinkles and fatigue, reflected genuine horror.
"We are not his rivals..." he whispered.
The spark of hope that still glimmered in their hearts began to fade. A shadow of despair appeared in the elder's eyes. And at that moment, when everything seemed lost, a loud and furious voice rang out: - Get lost!
Suddenly, a figure appeared in the air, holding a child. The man, who had jumped incredibly high, delivered a powerful kick straight into Marcello's face. The two furious forces collided in mid-air, but a moment later, Rogu's foot reached its target, slamming into the pirate captain's left cheek.
Marcello, like a cannonball, crashed into the crowd of his own pirates, who did not expect such a turn of events.
BANG! - a dull thud echoed across the square, followed by a chorus of screams. The pirates, taken by surprise, scattered.
Marcello's body crashed into a giant boulder nearby with a deafening sound, leaving a deep dent in it. Rock fragments flew into the air, showering everything around. The pirates who were nearby were injured by the debris, and their faces were stained with blood and confused.
A deathly silence reigned in the square. For two whole seconds.
The figure holding the child landed softly on the ground. It was Rogu. He gently placed the little Ferra on the ground, looking back at the huddled villagers. Then a wide, cheeky smile lit up his face.
"Yo!" he said as if nothing had happened. The villagers stood there with their eyes and mouths wide open, not believing what was happening.
The only one who could breathe a sigh of relief was the village elder. He said, "You've finally come."
"W-what's going on?" one of the villagers was amazed, unable to contain his surprise. "Is this... Rogu?!"
- Is he really that strong? I always thought he was just a lazy sword teacher!
— The headman seems to have known something all this time!
The villagers began to discuss it animatedly. Rogu had been living in Moonlight Village for three years. When he was first found, badly injured, without memory, and with an unknown past, they had no desire to keep him. And their original plan was simple: wait until he was fully recovered, and then ask him to leave.
But everything changed when Rogu recovered. After the village chief had a private conversation with him and then went somewhere to the Moon Mountain, his attitude towards Rogu changed dramatically. Not only did this allow him to stay, but the village chief also appointed him as a sword teacher for the children in the village.
This decision left the villagers perplexed. Especially since Rogu had done nothing special during these three years. All he did was teach children basic sword movements, like a simple chop. The rest of the time he spent idly wandering around the village, brazenly begging for food and drinks.
Luckily, the villagers were good-natured and eventually got used to him. And despite his rather lazy behavior, he did not irritate them too much. Moreover, he managed to befriend almost everyone in the village, albeit through his little tricks.
But no one even suspected that he was hiding such power within himself! This Marcello, with his terrifying blow, capable of instilling despair in anyone, was knocked down with just one kick!
- Rogu! - The headman, hearing the animated conversations of the residents, did not pay attention to them. He looked straight at Rogu, asking: - Can you handle it?
"…A real man will never say that he can't handle it," Rogu answered with a slight smile.
But his expression changed immediately when he turned around and looked at the wounded and dead villagers lying in the square. The smile disappeared, leaving behind only a cold gaze.
Then he turned his gaze to the pirates. His gaze was calm, without any obvious threat or malice, but every pirate he looked at felt a chill run down their spine.
- Damn, how painful! - a booming and angry voice rang out. The pirates, as if waking up from a dream, realized that their great captain Marcello had been knocked off his feet!
All eyes turned to the source of the sound and saw the huge figure of Marcello slowly rising from the ground.
"You damn bastard! How dare you hit me in the face!" His low roar echoed across the square.
When he stood up straight, his body was torn apart by rage, and his voice roared like thunder: "Unforgivable!!!"
Rogu tilted his head slightly, studying him. More precisely, he was not looking at Marcello himself, but at the strange four lines that hung next to his head.
First line: Wanted!
Second line: Charles Marcello!
Third line: Reward: 9,000,000 belli!
Line 4: We can capture it!
"Interesting, finally something new," Rogu muttered under his breath. He noticed that every pirate in the square had a line like this hanging next to their head.
The only difference was the size of the reward. Most pirates had rewards of several thousand belli. But Marcello stood out. His reward was several times higher, and the fourth line indicated that he could be captured.
"What does this even mean?" Rogu said quietly. "Why doesn't this system have instructions..."
While he was thinking, Marcello's fist was already in front of his face.
"I sentence you to death!!!" roared Marcello.
A powerful fist, tearing apart space and surrounded by a whistling wind, rapidly approached the Horn.
Rogu frowned slightly.
"Get away!" he said loudly.