The wind whistled through the branches of the clearing, carrying with it the acrid scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. Sunlight pierced through the foliage in intermittent beams, casting golden flashes on the ground littered with fallen leaves. Malton advanced with determined steps, eyes fixed on the merchant holding Sacha captive, his face contorted with anger and horror. Every fiber of his body screamed to rush forward.
"Let my brother go!" he shouted, his voice vibrating with almost tangible determination.
The merchant erupted in cruel laughter, his white teeth contrasting sharply with his tanned, harsh face.
"A child??? Kill him!"
Malton didn't hesitate. His silhouette melted into the shadows, swift and precise. To his left, a mercenary appeared. Malton's sword sliced through his arm with a sharp metallic sound, and before the next one could react, his blade struck down another. Blood splattered the leaves and ground, filling the clearing with a metallic stench.
"You can't even stop a kid!" the merchant sneered.
"You'll pay for this!" Malton roared, his eyes blazing with fury and fire.
In a vile gesture, the merchant pressed Sacha against him.
"Don't move, kid, or she…" he threatened.
Sacha screamed, and Malton, paralyzed with horror, received a brutal blow to the back of his head. He collapsed, dazed, the world spinning around him in a vertigo of sounds and colors.
But Eduard rose, eyes blazing with fierce determination. His hands glowed with an unnatural light, and as if the very air obeyed him, a shimmering sword appeared from nothing. Without hesitation, he charged at the merchant, the blade piercing the man's body before he could react. Short of breath and trembling, Eduard fell to his knees, exhausted from the effort.
The mercenary who had knocked Malton down stepped back, stunned.
"Wh… what powers are these?" he whispered, voice trembling.
"It doesn't matter," a deep voice replied from behind him. A hooded man stepped forward, silent and imposing. The mercenary instinctively bowed, dropping his weapon. But before he could flee, the invisible blade of the stranger ended his path, cutting down all opposition.
Silence fell over the clearing. Only the brothers' heavy breaths and drops of blood on the broken leaves broke the stillness. Sunlight filtering through the branches illuminated Sacha, trembling but unharmed, her eyes red from tears, her body slightly bent from shock. Every breath, every drop of sweat, every speck of blood told the intensity of the moment.
Malton regained his senses, wiping the blood from his forehead as he looked around. Eduard, still on his knees, hand on his sword, trembled with exhaustion, yet his gaze remained sharp and fierce. The hooded man, motionless like a silent shadow, observed the scene with unnerving calm, his piercing eyes seeming to probe each soul.
The sounds of the forest slowly returned, as if it had paused for a few moments to witness the courage of a child and the savagery of men. The wind continued to whisper through the branches, a reminder that the world never stops, even for those who fight with all the strength of their youth.
Malton finally turned his eyes to Sacha, still catching her breath. She knelt gently, arms trembling, and whispered:
"Thank you… thank you for being here."
Eduard slowly stood, his body aching, and looked at the hooded man.
"Who are you?" he asked, voice full of respect and curiosity.
The stranger remained silent, allowing the children to rise, their movements heavy with fatigue and emotion.
The clearing, now calm again, bore the scars of battle. Blood-stained leaves and lifeless bodies told a story no one could forget. Every step back toward the house would serve as a reminder of the courage and brutality they had just endured, a memory etched into their flesh and minds.