Chapter 076: To Us, Tomorrow (4)
* * *
Bonnie and Clyde had made their ho in a shanty built at the highest point in Firefield Village.
The house was so flimsy that it seed a strong gust of wind could collapse it, but it had the advantage of being easy to keep watch over the surroundings.
“You’re here, darling.”
Clyde spoke with his eyes pressed close to the wall.
He could see Anderson leading soldiers up toward Firefield Village.
‘There’s a lot of them. Is Anderson really planning to fight?’
Clyde swallowed hard.
This was unexpected.
He had thought Anderson would have no choice but to give in to their demands.
Objectively speaking, it was better to hand over the pass under the pretense of yielding to their threats than to risk a fight.
‘What… what do we do now…?’
Clyde hesitated as he turned around.
He nearly let out a sigh.
‘….’
Bonnie and Annil sat side by side at the table, their faces heavy with gloom.
Both of them had vacant, unfocused eyes.
‘So it’s co to this….’
Clyde’s expression darkened as well.
He was worried about Bonnie.
‘The wound will be deep.’
Though it had been a short ti, the bond that had ford between Bonnie and Annil was deep.
They had promised each other to build strong walls around their hearts, knowing it would co to this.
If only the human heart could be so easily controlled. Inside Bonnie, the girl had overflowed past the sturdy walls she’d built in her heart.
Now, the traces of the girl who had lingered in Bonnie would turn into scars.
He knew no words of comfort would help.
Only ti could slowly heal the pain.
All he could do was stay silently by her side.
That’s how it had always been.
Clyde shifted his gaze.
‘Annil….’
The girl had said she had no mories of her mother.
She spoke of the mother who had died in childbirth with an indifferent face, and that sight had struck him with a heavy pang.
For a brief mont, they had filled the empty spaces in each other’s lives.
Like the tide coming in and receding, those empty spaces, when looked at again, left only a deeper sense of loneliness.
Adults know how to cope, but children do not.
To Bonnie and Clyde, Annil might be a winter breeze forgotten when spring arrives, but to Annil, the two of them would remain a winter scene she’d long for even when spring ca.
“We have to go out now.”
Clyde resolved to be selfish for the sake of both of them.
He looked at Annil with difficulty.
“If, maybe, we can see each other again later…”
He couldn’t finish his sentence.
A shout ca from outside.
“Co out now, you damned villains—!”
* * *
By the ti the three stepped outside, a siege formation had already surrounded the shanty.
Anderson stood tall, facing the house.
Instead of pointing a sword at Annil, Bonnie tightly gripped her wrist, staring straight ahead.
Her eyes glinted fiercely, as if she had already reined in her emotions.
“Anderson! Are you saying you want blood?”
“Ha… whether it’s this one or that one, we need to fix their manners first.”
Their brief exchange was laced with conflicting expressions.
Bonnie and Clyde quickly scanned their surroundings.
The soldiers lined up behind Anderson were pulling their bowstrings in unison.
The rcenaries, spread out in a wing-like formation, blocked any escape routes.
anwhile, Anderson maintained a dignified facade, but inwardly, he struggled to control his expression.
Seeing his daughter held hostage by criminals made his eyes burn with tears.
“You insolent wretches!”
Unable to hold back, he drew Zahara and Toxeed.
The two blades, forged from black iron, glead sharply.
“Bonnie and Clyde! Also known as the Barrow rcenary Band!”
King!
Anderson extended his arm, pointing the tips of his swords at Bonnie and Clyde.
“I did so digging… and I was appalled. You two scoundrels, fallen nobles, are you?”
Annil’s eyes widened.
She had no idea.
Fallen nobles were often the product of political sches and intrigues.
Victims of false accusations or unjust treatnt often couldn’t let go of their past glory.
Annil looked up at Bonnie and Clyde.
They had never once hinted at such a background.
“If you had been born commoners, I might have understood! But for those who were once nobles to resort to kidnapping… ha.”
Anderson choked, unable to continue.
Bonnie snorted.
“Hmph. So what? Stop blabbering and hand over the pass. Why make things complicated?”
She responded nonchalantly, but her mind was racing.
With his daughter held hostage, she couldn’t fathom why Anderson was acting so boldly.
Anderson took a deep breath and declared,
“There will be no compromise with heinous criminals! This knight proposes to settle this matter through a fair one-on-one duel. If you have even a shred of pride and honor left, you must accept.”
“Father…!”
“Oh, Annil! My daughter! Please forgive this father! It is my own shortcomings that have brought such a harsh trial upon you!”
Anderson turned away briefly, pretending to catch his breath.
At that mont, his eyes t those of the rcenary leader, Bihen.
‘A one-on-one duel?’
Bihen tilted his head.
He had planned to intervene at the right mont to force Anderson to submit.
No matter the reason, he couldn’t let a tragedy unfold where a child watched their father fall to a sword right before their eyes.
His goal was to ensure no one died and to send the serfs back ho with their share.
‘He won’t last a single clash.’
Just as Bihen was about to step in, Anderson shot him a sharp, resentful glance and turned back.
‘Arrogant bastards. They think a knight is a pushover.’
Anderson’s plan was as follows:
First, he would engage in a one-on-one duel to uphold the honor of a knight and a father.
With the power of Zahara and Toxeed, called demon blades, he wasn’t entirely without a chance.
If he could defeat his opponent, that would be ideal, but Anderson, being sowhat self-aware, didn’t expect that much.
‘While the duel drags on, the archers will shoot the one threatening Annil.’
Dishonorable, you say?
‘Hmph.’
The corner of Anderson’s mouth curled up.
He had already planned for it.
His loyal vassal, Charles, would act impulsively to save his master, who was honorably fighting against villains.
Who could point fingers?
It was the loyalty of a vassal willing to bear all disgrace.
‘The magic-sealing formation is in place too. Everything is perfect.’
Anderson exhaled a long breath and opened his eyes.
A few steps away, Clyde stood.
‘So it’s him.’
Anderson adjusted his grip on Zahara and Toxeed, adopting a stance he’d once seen an assassin use.
He bent his knees and leaned his upper body slightly, swaying a bit from side to side as if his body moved on its own.
Even amidst the unsteady movents, his eyes remained sharp.
“Co at , you villain.”
“….”
Clyde, on the other hand, stood motionless, not even taking a stance.
His face showed no trace of fighting spirit.
Then, he turned his head, his eyes locking onto Bonnie and Annil.
The mont he turned back—
“Where are you looking—!”
Ka-ang!
A flash of light sparked. It ca with a deafening clang.
Anderson had leaped forward, swinging Zahara and Toxeed with all his might, only to be blocked by a single sword.
In the blink of an eye, Clyde had drawn his blade from his waist.
“You—!”
“….”
Anderson, emboldened by landing a strike, felt a surge of competitive spirit.
Naturally, Clyde’s calm deanor grated on his nerves.
He couldn’t sense the gap in their skill levels.
As the two stood face-to-face with their blades locked, the atmosphere was starkly contrasted.
Bihen slowly removed his hand from the hilt of the bastard sword slung across his back.
‘There’s no killing intent at all.’
He had noticed all along.
If Clyde had drawn his sword with intent to kill, Anderson’s head would have been severed before their blades even clashed.
Bihen quietly observed Bonnie and Clyde from a distance.
They seed to have another intention, but it was hard to discern their true motives.
“Hraaah!”
Anderson let out a loud battle cry, swinging Zahara and Toxeed wildly.
The sound of the demon blades cutting through the air was chilling.
“Oh, Sir Anderson…!”
Charles clasped his hands as if in prayer, his eyes gleaming.
His master was relentlessly pressing the attack.
The prearranged plan might not even be necessary.
“It’s my first ti seeing Sir Anderson wield a sword, but he’s impressive.”
“He deliberately kept his distance from swords, they say. To break the cycle of bloodshed in his ti.”
“His family’s ancestor was a fad assassin, wasn’t he?”
“Bloodlines can’t be ignored.”
The soldiers lined up began to chi in.
As they watched in awe, the taut bowstrings in their hands gradually loosened.
Clang! Clang! Kang!
Was the man himself any different?
Anderson was trembling with exhilaration.
A thrilling rush coursed through his body.
The sound of clashing blades and the tallic scent stimulated his senses delightfully.
‘Hmph, is it inevitable? The blood of an assassin…!’
It was as if he was finally getting the hang of it.
That indifferent expression on his opponent’s face was the result of fear, and those half-hearted movents were because Anderson’s relentless pressure left no room for maneuver.
As if to prove it, his opponent couldn’t even mount a proper counterattack.
His confidence soared.
No one could stop him now.
His talent had awakened.
‘Just hold on a little longer, Annil!’
A gap appeared.
Anderson thrust Toxeed forward with all his strength.
“Trahaaa!”
Clang—!
The mont Anderson felt his grip empty…
Toxeed was soaring through the air, tracing an arc above his head.
Of course, Anderson was unaware of this.
Thud.
Bihen pulled Toxeed from where it had embedded itself at his feet and examined it impassively.
The blade was slightly curved, like a single-edged saber, with a pointed tip.
It was designed for both slashing and thrusting.
Such weapons, if even slightly off in curvature, beca shoddy and useless.
For an Empire-made weapon, it would be considered high quality, but as a Kingdom-made weapon, its value was even higher.
‘This is…?’
There was sothing else worth noting.
Beneath the black blade, the single-edged side was faintly reddish, as if stained with blood.
It wasn’t re decoration.
Bihen activated his Ghost Eye.
Mana flowed gently along the red line.
“Ahh!”
Gasps erupted from all around.
Bihen looked up from Toxeed.
Clyde and Anderson were pointing their swords at each other’s throats, but the clear difference in reach made it obvious Anderson was at a disadvantage.
“Ugh!”
Anderson glanced down.
Clyde’s sword was a hair’s breadth from his neck.
“C-can we call it a draw…?”
Clang!
Clyde struck the underside of Anderson’s gauntlet with the flat of his blade.
It was a swift move.
Zahara slipped from Anderson’s grip and, like Toxeed, landed right in front of Bihen’s feet.
“Argh!”
Anderson clutched his wrist and collapsed.
It felt like soone was scraping his bones with a nail. He cursed the plate armor.
“…Sir Anderson.”
At the low call, Anderson looked up.
Clyde stood over him, silhouetted against the sunlight.
His eyes, shadowed in the dim light, seed sohow sorrowful.
Anderson swallowed hard.
This wasn’t the ti to be distracted.
A razor-sharp blade rested on his shoulder, atop his pauldron.
“S-spare …”
“Be a good father.”
Anderson’s eyes widened.
What was that supposed to an?
Before he could ask—
“Father—!”
A cry shook the entire Firefield Village.
Annil, sobbing, ran forward and threw her arms around her father.
“Father, please stop now. Please?”
“Annil! How did you…?”
“I’ll explain everything. Bonnie and Clyde aren’t bad people.”
“W-what are you saying? These people…”
Anderson’s furious gaze turned to Clyde.
Then he saw it.
Clyde was averting his eyes, his head tilted diagonally as if he couldn’t bear to et his gaze.
‘A real opening!’
Anderson kicked at Clyde’s ankle and, holding Annil, swiftly retreated.
It was a remarkably agile move.
In that mont, he truly seed to channel the latent abilities of his assassin lineage.
“Shoot!”
Anderson’s shout echoed long and loud.
Clyde turned, his back to the glinting arrowheads, his eyes fixed solely on Bonnie.
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