Chapter 271 – Bloody Rain

Chapter 271 – Bloody Rain

Kai squatted in the mud behind a tree, wishing to pull the siren back by his ears.

Merciful Spirits! Why did he have to walk up to them like that?

The marauder’s puzzlement was obvious even in the pale light. “What…?”

“Did you follow us from Varsea? Me, two other younger humans and a seeker.” Rain gestured to their height as if worried he wouldn’t be understood.

“What is it, Sten?” Someone rumbled from one of the five tents. “Do you need help killing a red mouse?”

Kai took a moment to place the voice. The tone was quite different from the empty boasts he had endured the day before.

Skar the Redaxe walked out of the flaps, raising his hatchet when he noticed the teen outside their camp. “Uh… what are you doing here, boy? Did you come alone?” He raised his voice higher than necessary.

Wasn’t that guy supposed to be harmless?

A clatter of voices and faces filled the camp.

“What—”

“Is that the rich brat?”

“I told you we’d do well to continue!”

More enchanted lights defined the shadows into people—eleven more men had come out of the tents. They crowded together, holding weapons with thrilled whispers.

The siren stood nonchalantly under the rain. A flash of lightning illuminated the thin smile on his lips. “So, you’re the ones planning to attack us… Can you go back now?”

“What is he saying…?”

“Is he that dull?”

“I told ‘ou. Spoiled brats all think everyone will leap at the snap of their fingers.”

“Spared us the chase.”

Skar silenced the chatter with a raucous laugh. “I don’t know from which gilded hole you are from. But you should have stayed there. Think you can just parade through our town, and then dismiss us like servants?”

“Hmm… I see.” The siren sighed. “You won’t leave us alone no matter what I say?”

A chorus of chortles and sneering murmurs circled the marauders.

“Skar, maybe we should go back.” A petite woman stepped forward to whisper. “We don’t know which house he belongs to… Someone might come to look—”

“Don’t be a fool.” The seeker gave her a backhand slap. “From the coins he threw around at the market, he isn’t even a Republican citizen. This is our chance to settle for life.”

“Yeah, I bet he has run away from home without even taking a guard.” Another man jeered. Still squabbling among themselves, the marauders spread out to surround the siren. Archers covertly leaned on the bows, swords were unsheathed, and a crimson wand was covertly taken out by the petite woman.

“So that’s a no…” Rain pursed his lips with a shake of his head.

Fuck.

Kai cloaked himself in Shadow to creep closer. He only recognized a couple adventurers from the day before, most were new faces. From the whispers, everyone had at least their profession at Yellow—seven also their races. He might take down a couple with an ambush, but not twelve of them.

Dammit! There are too many.

While the siren was at the peak of Yellow, his profession was only at Orange. How much fighting experience could a sheltered sixteen-year-old have anyway? His skills might not even be that high.

A woman with wet brown hair sauntered toward Rain; lightning reflected a metallic glimmer in the back of her palm. “Don’t be hasty, hon’. I’m sure we can come to an agreement. Why don’t you—”

She had yet to fully raise the dagger when her head had rolled to the ground, splashing blood and water. The spell had been cast so quickly Kai barely registered it.

For an instant, everyone stood frozen, then two arrows whistled, flying wide of Rain’s head. The siren was already dashing to break the encirclement. His form moved with such speed, it appeared to blink in the storm.

A wide line of water coalesced from the pouring rain before disappearing. The spell bisected two men wielding bows, only stopping after cutting two pines behind them.

“Don’t let him run!” Skar screamed. “He’s just one kid.”

Recovered from the shock, nine figures glowed with skills, charging with swords and spears up. Two knives and a hatchet flew through the air—but the siren had no intention of fleeing.

Three bubbles intercepted the attacks with contemptuous ease. Rain drew more lines in the air, sending ten shorter blades toward his foes like a farmer harvesting wheat.

Shields and skills flared in response. The bandits were prepared—though it made little difference. More severed limbs flopped to the ground with harrowing and gurgling screams. One seeker had been split across his chest, white ribs showing; one woman bled out from where her thigh abruptly ended.

In seconds, the group had been cut down to seven people: everyone not fully into Yellow was already dead or rapidly dying.

“Cursed gods! Always a mage line,” Skar spat. He was bleeding from a cut that almost took his scalp.

Stolen novel; please report.

The marauders banded together with their shields forward, unblinking eyes staring at their target.

“I admit we underestimated you. Most golden brats can’t tell their face from their arse. You sure know some tricks—”

“Tzashk The’er.” Rain enounced a sharp and vibrating note that no human could produce. Every droplet of water for a hundred paces stopped like crystal beads lit by the storm.

The marauders cursed, guessing what came next. A flickering golden dome enveloped them, accompanied by gleaming shields to cover their tight ranks.

“Xeerthe.” The word traveled like a whisper to his ears.

Thousands of water needles flew toward the bracing group at once. The woods filled with a cascade of chiming clinks and pained yelps, the sounds drown out by the freed downpour.