"H… help…"
The young elf's voice was weak, barely above a whisper. She tilted her head slightly, her ocean-blue eyes fixed on Arthur, who now stood before her like a ghost from a better world.
Arthur remained still, eyes wide, still processing the scene in front of him. The chains. The blood. The pale, trembling girl. He shook his head twice—as if trying to physically shake off the horror clinging to his senses—then took two deliberate steps forward, closing the distance. He dropped to one knee on the wooden floor of the carriage.
The old, rusted planks creaked beneath his weight, groaning in protest. The sound was sharp in the silence—a reminder that everything in this place was rotten, ready to collapse.
Now crouched at eye level with the elf, Arthur looked at her properly for the first time. Her gaze lingered on his face, studying every detail—the shape of his jaw, the color of his eyes, the faint tremor in his lips. Her own lips were slightly parted, as if she wanted to speak but no longer remembered how.
Arthur spoke again. This time, his words carried no fear. Only urgency. Only a serious, burning resolve.
"Are you okay? …Let's get you out of these chains, okay?"
He forced a reassuring smile onto his face—wobbly at the edges, but genuine.
In that moment, her eyes welled up. Tears, slow and heavy, trickled down her cheeks, tracing paths through the dried tear tracks already there. They slid past her jawline and fell—like dying flames extinguished too soon—onto the dried blood staining the wooden floor beneath her.
---
Back outside…
Finn stood comfortably still, his eyes and body unmoving, staring down all eight men in front of him. His haori swayed gently in the forest's cool breeze, a stark contrast to the sun that burned red-hot in the sky above. Its brightness hit the top of his straw hat, casting a dark shadow across half his features.
He didn't flinch. Didn't blink.
He simply waited.
"Hmph... hehe. Are you going to stand there all day and act all high and mighty, pretty boy? Or are you actually going to do something?"
Yomako's voice dripped with sarcasm, his idiotic grin once again exposing those yellow, unkempt teeth.
Finn's gaze narrowed at the words. His stare turned piercing, almost sharp enough to cut. He murmured under his breath, "Mmhm…"
He stayed silent—not out of uncertainty, but to buy Arthur enough time to escape from the carriage.
But Yomako wasn't done running his mouth. He pressed on, his words growing more arrogant, more foolish.
"Well, I'll have you know—if you're some kind of soldier in these parts—we sold all our slaves back at the port this morning. Hehe." An obvious lie, meant to hide the fact that he still had an elf in custody. He continued, "So go ahead and search our carriages… assuming we let you get closer. Hahe haha!"
Just then, as the conversation between Yomako and Finn continued, Arthur was already on the verge of escaping.
He carried the girl on his back, taking slow, cautious steps toward the carriage's wide entrance. Her face rested on his shoulder, eyes closed—too weak, too tired to do anything but cling to consciousness.
"Uhm…" Finn murmured low upon seeing Arthur make his move. He masked his last-second shock behind a composed, stoic face while continuing to listen to Yomako run his mouth.
"HUH? What's wrong, pretty boy? Scared?"
Yomako's voice slithered through the air, thick with sarcasm. His wide, yellow-toothed grin stretched across his wrinkled face like a wound. "Why bother approaching us if you don't have the balls to do anything?"
He took a half-step forward, axe still dangling from his hand, savoring the moment. Behind him, his men shifted, restless, their knuckles white around weapon handles.
Josh, his second in command, uncrossed his arms and puffed out his chest. "Yeah, what the boss says." His voice was nasally, confident. "You got guts comin'—"
CRACK.
The sound split the air like a bone breaking.
Wood snapping. Dry and brittle. Followed by a dull thud on packed sand.
All eight bandits froze. Their heads turned in unison toward the noise—toward the rear of the carriages.
There stood Arthur.
He was balanced on the back carriage's single step—or what remained of it. The old wood had given way beneath his weight, splintering into jagged pieces that now lay scattered in the dirt. Arthur's eyes were wide, his face pale. Sweat glistened on his neck, trailing down his collarbone. The elf girl clung to his back, her arms wrapped weakly around his shoulders, her face buried against his neck.
Inside Arthur's mind, a single, panicked thought raced on a loop:
Ah… no. No. No, no… not good.
---
Then in the moment Finn's hand rose slowly. His palm pressed flat against his forehead. Eyes closing. A long, weary exhale.
"That idiot."
Not a word spoken aloud—but the disappointment radiated off him like heat from a dying fire.
"HEY! HE GOT THE GIRL!" one of the bandits shrieked, pointing a trembling finger.
Yomako's eyes bulged—bloodshot veins spreading across the whites. His face turned a deep, ugly red. "THEY TRICKED US!" His roar echoed off the trees, sending birds scattering from the canopy.
Finn dropped his hand to his side and snapped, voice sharp as a blade: "RUN, YOU IDIOT!"
Arthur didn't need to be told twice. He spun on his heel and bolted—feet pounding the dirt, the elf bouncing gently against his back, her breath warm on his shoulder. He ran toward the grassy slope, toward the high ground, toward anywhere but here.
Yomako's bald head throbbed. Veins pulsed like worms beneath his skin. He jabbed a thick finger toward the fleeing boy. "Get the kid, Josh!"
Josh's smirk returned—hungry, eager. He nodded once, then launched into a sprint, boots kicking up dust, chase from behind .
"Tch…"
The word escaped Finn's lips—sharp, quiet, almost annoyed.
He dashed forward.
Yomako's back was still turned, his bulk facing his men after sending Josh after Arthur. The other bandits stood stupidly, still processing the shift in events.
Finn's face remained unfazed. Calm. His right hand still rested on his katana's hilt, but he hadn't drawn yet. His feet moved across the dry earth with practiced silence—no wasted motion, no telltale shuffle. Just purpose.
"Huh?"
Yomako sensed something. A shift in the air. A whisper of movement behind him.
He turned.
His eyes widened for a fraction of a second—then narrowed into hateful slits. Finn was already close. Too close. The distance between them had evaporated like morning mist.
"You are one bold son of a bitch, aren't you, pretty boy?!" Yomako's voice erupted into a guttural roar. "RHAAA!"
His arm whipped forward. The axe—still stained with the dead woman's blood—came down in a hard, vertical arc. The blade caught the afternoon sun, flashing white-hot as it cleaved through the air toward Finn's skull.
The bandits behind Yomako watched, mouths slightly agape, waiting for the wet crunch of steel meeting bone.
Just as the axe was about to meet his head, Finn moved.
A single, fluid shift of his body to the right—nothing more. No panic. No wasted energy. The axe whistled past his ear, close enough to stir the hair at his temple, and struck the hard dirt with a heavy thunk. Dust exploded from the impact point.
Yomako's momentum carried him forward, off-balance, his arms extended, his entire torso exposed.
Finn didn't hesitate.
He landed a swift push kick to the side of Yomako's ribs—precise, controlled, but with enough force to lift the big man off his feet. Yomako's eyes went wide as he was launched sideways, crashing out of the roadway and tumbling into the grass with a heavy grunt.
Finn didn't stop to admire his work. He wasted no motion, already continuing his sprint—heading straight for the remaining bandits.
Or possibly toward Arthur.
As Finn continued his sprint forward—past the dead woman on the ground—he headed straight for the six remaining bandits.
In that moment, he threw his right palm forward while running. His index finger ignited—a burst of white, steaming Reiki aura flaring at the tip. He drew a kanji symbol for Fire mid-air, directly in front of him. The symbol glowed with a brilliant white aura, hovering for just a heartbeat.
Then he grabbed it tight with the same hand.
A surge of energy flowed through his arm, his chest, his core—before disappearing inward, absorbed. He pulled his tightened fist to his chest. His eyes closed briefly. Then opened in an instant—gaze sharp, focused.
He thrust his open palm forward.
A fireball erupted from his hand—blazing white-hot—and rocketed toward the bandits. It collided with three of them, blasting them with enough force to send them screaming through the air, tumbling in opposite directions.
Yet Finn continued his sprint.
He leaped through the rising—but already fading—fire blast he had just unleashed. What remained of it now burned as a thin wall of flame. He crossed both forearms in front of his face, shielding himself from the heat as he passed through. When he finally emerged on the other side and landed back on the brown sandy dirt road, he forcefully swung both hands to his sides—brushing off the smoke—and kept running.
Heading to catch up with Arthur.
Then, without warning, a chain coiled around his ankle. Three times, quick as a serpent's strike.
Finn's forward momentum jerked to a halt. His eyes drifted down to his ankle—then he was yanked off the ground with tremendous force, pulled backward and launched into the air.
Finn Bowing, mid-air and upside down, did not panic.
His face remained a mask of cold composure. He used the momentum to straighten his footing, then brought his legs down slightly—adjusting his angle. He landed on the dirt just before his head could have taken the impact, his back now turned to his remaining opponents.
Three of them, to be precise.
Finn's previous fire attack had only hit three of the bandits. The other three had evaded just in time—and one of them had countered with the chain, using it to drive Finn backward. Now, those three continued their charge toward him.
They're more resourceful than I thought," Finn murmured to himself.
He turned, following his usual gesture—drawing a kanji symbol for Earth mid-air. It glowed white, hovering briefly before he grabbed it with his palm. Suddenly, green Reiki energy erupted in a surge, enveloping his body completely. Then it disappeared, settling into his frame like armor beneath the skin before depleting.
Finn, now facing the charging bandits, narrowed his eyes beneath the brim of his straw hat. His voice came low and calm.
"Reiki Element: Earth Burst..."
Finn said the words, and with a slight movement of his left foot—deliberately dragging it back a couple inches—a wall of earth erupted from the ground behind the charging bandits.
Their eyes widened in awe as the earth wall towered over them from behind. Then, with the same deliberate drag of Finn's leg, the wall lurched forward, slamming hard into their backs. The force sent two of them flying over Finn's head. The third was launched directly toward him.
But Finn dashed forward in a blur to meet his foe. He drove a high knee into the man's chest, smashing him back through the wall to the other side. The bandit landed unconscious, his nose shattered, blood streaming down his face.
Finn stood over him, staring down .
Until—
"YOU BASTARD! SCREW YOU!"
Yomako emerged from the grass field where Finn had knocked him earlier. His face was twisted with rage, veins bulging across his bald scalp.
Finn simply stared at the outburst. His gaze was steady, almost pitying. Then a sound escaped his lips—low, calm, inviting.
"Come on…"
---
Now, with Finn grounded against Yomako, Arthur continued running—the unconscious elf on his back, racing up the grassy slope. Behind him, Josh, Yomako's right-hand man, gave chase.
"Save your energy, kid. You can't possibly hope to escape me while carrying someone on your back." Josh's wide smile stretched across his face as he kept pace.
Arthur sprinted up the slope, his breath shaky. The elf bounced against his back with each ragged movement. "Hu... hu... hu..." The sounds escaped his mouth—exhaustion mixed with determination.
Finally, he crested the slope and reached more even ground, where a stretch of forest awaited. He charged forward, heading towards the forest trees to lose his pursuer. "Come on... move... body... move..."
But his pace slowed. Exhaustion dragged at his limbs. Carrying the mysterious elf girl had taken everything from him.
"Not so fast!"
Josh's voice rang out from close behind. He pulled a short dagger from the cross-chest belt holder, gripped it by the sharp tip, and swung his arm forward with precision. The blade flew through the air—and sliced through Arthur's right sleeve, cutting deep into flesh. A rough, bleeding gash opened on his arm. The dagger disappeared into the forest beyond.
"AGH! AGHHH!"
A scream of pain and surprise tore from Arthur's throat. His injured arm dropped limp, throwing off his balance. He stumbled, fell to the ground, and collapsed—the elf landing on top of him.
She opened her eyes slightly, weakly raising up from Arthur's back, as she stared down on his now-bleeding arm. Pushing herself off, she sat on both knees in the grass, then reached out. Her hands, lazy and weak, dropped onto Arthur's bleeding wrist.
"Ah...Mister..." Her voice came out like the sound of a tiny bell—both calm and reassuring.
Arthur ground his teeth against the pain. He brought his left palm to his right wrist, covering the wound with his hand. Slowly, he pushed himself up. He ignored the elf, who now sat on the grass, her eyes still defiant despite the pain.
The elf's eyes widened slightly. She realized—someone was standing in for her, ready to protect her. Tears gathered in her eyes once more.
"You don't want to get involved, kid. The elf is our package. Running away with her would cost us a lot of money." Josh announced as he pulled a medium-sized blade from the scabbard behind his back. He approached the pair slowly, deliberately.
As Josh drew closer, Arthur's senses spiked—panic and defiance twisting together. A thought raced through his head:
I have to fight... I... I don't have a choice...
He side-glanced backward. His eyes met hers—tears trailing down her cheeks. As he then turned back to face the approaching Josh and spoke to himself, low and fierce.
"Tchs....Damn it How do I beat this Guy..."