Chapter 395

Seven(?) Greedy Ones Ascend (VI)

Emma stared at a familiar yet distinctly distant sight, one that she hadn’t seen in quite a many years. On their journey back, they took the main road, occasionally resting and camping, taking in the sights while she mentally mapped out the landscape.

Halfway through the journey, however, Anth suddenly paused and began shaking--the road ahead was blocked by nearly fifty people, all led by a young, handsome-looking man. He was on the taller end of things, sporting silver-dyed hair and a pair of twilight-hued eyes. However, the most distinct feature of his was undoubtedly the smirk of mockery that forever rested on his lips.

While Anth paused and started shaking in shock, likely having expected a free journey home, Emma, Senna, Jamal, and Daniel stayed behind the young man, appearing indifferent. Their ‘role’ was simply keep the boy alive, his pride be damned. If he asked them to intervene, they would; if not, they’d simply stay silent.

“Well, well. I’ll be damned,” the young man suddenly spoke after a few moments of silence. “When they told me you returned... I thought they were lying to anger me. But, lo and behold, there you are. With dogs in tow, no less. Did you rescue them? Or did they rescue you?”

“I-Ion...” Anth tried to settled his heart, but demons were difficult, if not impossible, to quench. The terror was instinctive, as was the anger. Right now, he was in the dark over the situation--if he was alone, he would have simply ran away. In that, he was confident. In fighting? Not so much.

“I was almost home when I heard the news,” he said. “And I simply had to turn around. You delayed my return, little pig. A woman awaits, and she must be throbbing by now. Last time you eluded us. But the forest is ways off, and there is no hole to hide in from us any longer. So, bend forward and clean your neck; at least make your death honorable.”

“...” Anth gritted his teeth; he wanted to ask for help, but he was uncertain. There were fifty people ahead, after all. All of them, at the very least, were competent, twice-Awakened. Not to mention Ion--while his personality was rotten, and his connections were his main strength, they hardly diminished the fact that Ion was one of the most promising youths of his generation. While not exactly at the top of the food chain, he was heavily leaning toward the top unlike Anth who sat straight in the middle.

“And you lot,” Ion suddenly spoke, looking past Anth and at the beggar-looking things standing behind him. “I don’t know what the pig promised you, but he cannot deliver. His life is mine. So, if you cherish yours, scram back to wherever you came from.”

“... hmm. 3 out of 10,” Emma spoke, stroking her chin.

“Really? I’m leaning more toward a 2,” Jamal added.

“I’m with Jamal,” Senna joined in as well.

“3? 2? What are you guys talking about?” Daniel quizzed. “I took a quick nap.”

“What are the dogs barking?” Ion asked, frowning.

“Ah, don’t mind us,” Emma smiled. “We’re just grading your villainy performance. Go on. There’s still time to improve it.”

“... I was already in the bad mood,” Ion’s voice dropped as his gaze grew colder. “And I still offered you a way out. Fine. Join him in death. Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Oh! Jumped to 4!” Emma exclaimed.

“Yep,” Senna nodded as well. “Done away with the flowery nonsense, got straight to the point. Nice tone of voice, nice expression. If only he wasn’t on that ugly-looking horse-thing.”

“You think so too?” Daniel said. “There’s no way that’s a horse, though. Looks more like a pig to me. See that snout?”

“Maybe that’s why he keeps calling the kid a ‘pig’?” Jamal questioned. “’cause he’s spending every waking hour of his life with one?”

“Kill them!!!” Ion roared.

“Settle down, boy,” Emma’s voice chilled the atmosphere abruptly. Just as the horde was about to charge, they felt the change in Mana pressure that stifled their souls. It was as though they were plunged into the depths of hell and began shaking. Even Ion stopped breathing, bearing the brunt of the gaze--it was the gaze of a beast that would swallow him whole if he seemingly even blinked. “This is not a fight you wanna take. Be a good kid and either walk away, or move aside.”

“Y-y-you... how... how dare...”

“Boo. Fell right down to 1,” Senna suddenly booed in the middle of beyond tense atmosphere. “What kind of a villain pisses themselves at the most basic threat? What a grave disappointment...”

“P-pisses?! You bitch!! I swear unto heavens I’ll educate your filthy brain in the stead of your father! Come--” before he could utter another word, he realized a sword was lodged in his shoulder. And before he could even cry out, the sword, alongside with him, sped like a bolt of thunder, appearing in front of the woman. Her eyes were vacant, void of emotion. Nobody could even react--by the time they realized what had happened, Ion was hovering above the woman, the floating sword keeping him in the air.

“Choose your next word carefully,” she said coldly. “What worth is your daddy’s anger when your head will have been pecked away by the pigeons?”

“I--I--” Ion was at a loss for words. He expected many things in life, but this wasn’t one of them. These people... they all looked and felt like ordinary mortals. Hunters, at best. And yet... he couldn’t even see the sword. Couldn’t even sense Mana properly before his life was hung. That was right--his life. Usually, no matter what, death almost never arrives. Even with Anth, he had to pull hundreds of strings to ensure it wouldn’t bite him back. But these barbarians... didn’t care. He truly would die if he misspoke. Every fiber of his being was tellingn him that. “I’m... sorry...” he mumbled, lowering his head.

There was no shame in that. Today, he will lower his head--tomorrow, he will lower theirs. No matter what, he would never forget the shame of today.

“Eh,” the woman shrugged. “I don’t believe you. I have a feeling you’ll go back home to your daddy and cry till your eyes bleed for him to beat our bums. Maybe it’s safer if we just kill you all and then hide?”

“N-no!! No, please! I--I swear, I won’t tell anyone! No one!!” Ion hurriedly cried out.

“Ah, well, if you swear,” the woman rolled her eyes. He... he was being played with, he realized. These people... they didn’t care. They didn’t care for his revenge, they didn’t care for his father, they didn’t care for anything. They were one of two possible sort--completely ignorant... or entirely indifferent for their confidence was as tall as the tallest mountain.

“We’ll do it like this, then,” the black man suddenly spoke. “We’ll have to draw a Mana String connecting our hearts to yours so that if any one suddenly stops beating... so does yours. What say you, big ol’ chap?”

“...” Ion remained silent for a moment, weeping inside. They didn’t really mean it, he saw. There was clear and distinct mockery in their eyes, and they were simply playing around with him as though he were a toy. If he said yes... he would be surrendering his dignity. But if he said no... they might really just kill him. “F-fine...” he replied.

“Just let him go,” the older woman spoke with a sigh. “Right, just a courtesy warning--those lads you send after us, they at least better have decent items, okay? We’re quite poor ‘cause our cult--I mean, ‘cause our family head is a tight-purse sort. So, it’d be nice if we could steal--I mean accepted the gifts of the lads you send, that we will in no way, shape or form sell right after. Okay? Okay. Good boy.”

“Speaking of items,” the other man suddenly said. “There’s plenty here already.”

“...”

“...”

“Oh children, how do you?” Jamal stepped forward, doing his best to imitate Cain. “I want to stress with all my bodily muscles--this is not a robbery! We are simply accepting donations, yes, donations that will go to feed children and clothe the naked and house the homeless! Again, we are not saying you should give us an item or two--that would be a robbery! In no way would we beat you black and blue if you don’t give us anything, that ain’t how we do things! We simply accept donations! Ah, children. Does anyone here care to donate to the poor?”

“... dammit, he’s kinda good,” Senna grumbled. “Lacks a bit of flair, but... probably the closest one, right?”

“Yep. Still can’t make himself just that extra inch more shameless,” Emma said.

The items that were ‘requested’ were soon set afoot into a big pile, and Ion was let go, riding away right after with the remainder of the group. Though nobody missed the dirty look that he gave them, one that spoke the cliche words of ‘I shall have my vengeance!’, they were to preoccupied with inspecting the items to care.

In the meantime, Anth still stood frozen in the spot, beyond shocked and terrified as to what happened. Though he did feel somewhat vindicated, seeing how they manhandled Ion, he was also deadly worried that they may have crossed some sort of a line--especially with the daylight robbery they committed. Ah, sweet gods... did I truly make the right choice? He didn’t know, indeed.