The silence that settled over the tavern courtyard was suffocating, broken only by the ragged, desperate gasps of the twenty mercenaries clutching their solar plexuses. As the paralysis from Ethan's precise strikes slowly began to wear off, the thugs looked up at the pristine, white-robed youth standing under the flickering lanterns. The raw, absolute terror in their eyes was palpable.
"Please... young master, have mercy!" one of the mercenaries groaned, dragging his knees through the dirt as he choked out his words. "It wasn't our idea! We were just following orders! Everything... everything was the bearded boss's doing! He's the one who wanted to rob the kid!"
"Yeah! We didn't even touch the boy! It was all him!" another shouted, desperately trying to distance himself from the unconscious, bloody heap on the floor.
