Aftermath

Duran stowed his spear across his back and tied the quiver off around the back of his waist as to not hinder himself if he needed to retrieve his spear quickly. The 10 arrows jostled slightly as he jogged back closer to the camp but stilled an went silent once he began creeping up like a predator hunting prey.

The bandit camp was still on alert as they had lost 5 members, the one that had called out the attack eventually bled out before they could bandage him up. Not even the healer they kept as a slave could prevent the man's death due to internal injuries.

Duran once again surveyed the camp and took in a new count of people, 24. With another that stood in front of a fire with his broad chest bare showing numerous scars littering his body. He had a giant 2 bladed axe resting on his shoulder held by his right hand as he glared at the bandits surrounding him.

"How useless are ya? Buncha bumpkins that can't even take down a couple worms?" He spat out at them and Duran grinned to himself, as it seemed they thought there was more than one attacker. He considered aiming the first attack at the leader but he didn't know what stage his core was at and couldn't guarantee the man would be able to stop it.

Therefore instead of potentially wasting his element of surprise, he fired his arrow at one of the other archers in the group. The arrow sailed true and struck the man in the back of the neck, sending him to his knees as he struggled to breathe. All of them glanced at him first, distracted by the sudden attack and the next bandit was not prepared for the follow up arrow striking him in the chest killing him instantly.

"They've returned! Damnit, what is Ajax doing out there?" The bandit leader yelled out as he gripped his huge axe in both hands and began scanning the surrounding tree line.

"Form up! Watch the tree line and then charge when you see the next arrow. Whoever gets hit by that arrow will be killed by me personally!" He bellowed even louder and Duran could swear he could feel the ground vibrate slightly.

'Earth mage perhaps?' He thought to himself as he brought the string back once more and fired. Though instead of a direct shot he directed the bow upwards and allowed the arrow to sail up and then fall back down. Of course without the skill or finesse of an archer or wind mage he couldn't boost the arrows power any, so this attack was more of another distraction in his eyes as he changed positions.

However to his surprise the arrow found its mark in the foot of one of the bandits at the edge of the circle that surrounded the giant of a bandit leader. The man looked to the sky and his brow furrowed in frustration.

"Come out and fight like men! You cowards!"

Duran grinned to himself, after all who is really the coward. The one hiding in the trees? Or the one hiding behind his subordinates as they fall?

The 4th shot Duran took while on the run, not stopping to prep the shot it flew wildly and whistled by the head of the bandit leader who now grinned.

"Gotcha! There men, next to the water skins. Get the bastards and bring them to me!" He barked and half the circle broke off and headed to the woods where Duran had just been. They ran into some weak but effective snare traps that Duran had set up while surveying the camp.

Only a couple were caught in the traps, but they required other people to free them from the restraints gaining Duran just a little extra time. Duran fired his next 2 shot with accurate and precise marks taking down 2 more bandits.

Remembering how the bandit didn't react when the arrow sailed by his head, Duran decided to try aiming directly for the bandit leader with his 7th shot. He breathed in and the rhythmic thudding of his heart drowned out the sounds of the battle. He aimed for the man's chest and as the arrow flew the air, there was no reaction from the bandit leader.

The arrow continued to fly and Duran's confusion increased as the distance between the arrow and its target decreased. He was sure that someone as strong as the bandit leader should be would be able to notice an arrow sailing towards him. However to Duran's surprise the arrow sunk to the feathers into the man's chest where his heart is.

Even his body was as weak as a non mage. Duran's brow twitched. Not in confusion, but annoyance. He felt deceived by this man as he fell backwards to ground. The snapping of the arrow protruding from his back being the only thing that contrasted the thud of his body hitting the ground.

The whole camp went quiet as the looked at the body of their leader, their former leader. Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Duran fired the last arrows from the quiver one after the other taking a new life with each twang of the bow string.

Throwing down the quiver and pulling his spear from its place on his back he stepped out of the dark shadows of the forest. He was feeling something he had never really felt before, the annoyance at someone being weaker than he expected.

He had grown up listening to his grandfather's stories of the war and how he would get lost in the heat of battle. Going from one strong fighter to the next always pushing his limits and growing stronger himself. Duran had thought that this would be his moment for such a thing and had been left disappointed.

Less than 20 bandits remained now and they all stared at him as he exited the tree line. Duran's heart was beating slow but heavy in his chest, the world seemed to almost slow around him.

One girl chose this time to peek out from one of the "pleasure tents" as the bandits called it and gasped at what she saw. She, Melania Frisham, was a low ranking nobleman's daughter and had seen a great many mages in her 18 years of life.

She lived in luxury compared to commoners and used it to its fullest extent, buying slaves from the black markets and going on a great many extravagant trips around the cities in the kingdom of Sapin. Melania had little talent as a mage herself, so she tended to hate strong mages almost as much as commoners.

So when she saw strong commoners it made her even angrier and had it not been for her current situation she would demand this one holding a spear wearing his hideous be tortured. However at the moment he was her only hope of being saved from this torment she had been dealing with for the last 2 days.

Ever since her caravan had been attacked by these bandits and she'd been taken captive, no amount of pleading or bargaining had swayed the bandits much to her despair. Every hour of the day a new bandit would "visit" her and leave just for another to take his place. The only reprieve she gained was when they would turn to one of the serving girls that had served her or decided that the healer they kept as a slave wasn't pulling her weight.

Melania welcomed these moments and could only curse herself for not acquiring much prettier slaves that the bandits would rather take out their pent up frustrations on. So when she saw this commoner staring down the group of bandits, she felt great disdain that she the eldest daughter of Marcum Frisham. Would leave her freedom in his hands.

Only in the span of a few heartbeats something changed, the atmosphere seemed to grow cold and felt the same as when the bandit leader had placed the blade of his axe at her neck. The bite of cold metal settled along the back of her neck and she shuddered. She blinked her eyes to try and shake off the feeling and when she did she noticed something strange.

The teenage boy was no longer standing 100 feet away from her, separated by the bandits. He was now crouched down in front of her sitting on his heels as he held his spear in his right hand. His cold eyes glared into hers and Melania's breathing hitched when she saw the blood covering his body.

Even to an untrained eye like hers she could tell that none of it was his blood, and looking past him she could see the collapsed bodies of the bandits that had separated them moments ago. She open her mouth to let out a scream only to be met by a blooded hand that covered it.

"Ah, Ah, Ah, let's not do that." Duran's voice came out as chilling as his piercing gaze. His grandfather had told him once that his family is cursed with a Call of Blood. It aids them well in battle, but can cause them to lose themselves if they don't keep it in check. This causes them to shirk all reservations when it comes to killing and move with such freedom that they seem to grow stronger.

Looking down towards the tattered remains of the girls dress he could tell that it had once been a beautiful and luxurious dress. Now however it had many tears and rips leaving everything on display, which is where he saw a pendant resting between her ample breasts.

Tears budded in the girls eyes as her fear changed to anger. She thought this filthy, bloody commoner was looking at her the same as the bandits, as if he was getting ready to take her himself. However she gasped in surprise when his hand darted from her mouth to space between her breasts and grasped her pendant.

"Frisham." He breathed out so quietly that Melania almost didn't hear him. When his eyes looked up from the pendant, her heart skipped a beat at the disdain that was visible in his eyes.

Before she could even speak, she felt fire in her abdomen and when she looked down she saw the handle of a dagger sticking out of it with an bloody hand clasped around it. She could now tell it was curved, especially so when she looked into the eyes of the boy in front of her and felt him twist before pulling it upwards.

She gasped from the pain but for some reason was unable to cry out as she stared back in disbelief.

"Slavers are worse than dirt." He said calmly, which was a sharp contrast from the fury in his eyes. Another sharp movement and the tip of the curved dagger reached her heart and everything went dark for Melania Frisham.

Duran ripped his dagger from her body and wiped the blood from it on her tattered clothes. He noticed other girls in the tent that Melania had been in and noticed slave marks as well as collars on them. His heart panged with sadness as he looked at them. Some had obviously been here a lot longer than Melania had been.

"Where are the keys?" Duran breathed out, but none of them moved. Except for one that was branded with the mark of house Frisham on her right breast. She sat there kneeling without a scrap clothing covering her slender yet lean body, Duran could feel the power of a mage coming from her and looking closer could see she was at the mid red stage.

She had hair that started a light brown at the roots but slowly changed to a faded green as it reached the ends at her lower back. She also had pointed ears that leaked out from her hair and glowing green eyes. Eyes that were almost as bright as Duran's own.

She couldn't have been no older than 16, but Duran knew that it was hard to tell Elves age. And that's what she was, an Elf.

Her hand raised and pointed to the pendant that laid on the ground, when Duran looked at it closer he realized that it was the thing keeping the Elf subdued. Even with the pendant dampening her mana he could tell that she had more mana than Melania had. He slammed the spike of his spear through the pendant and an almost imperceptible bit of energy dispersed and the mark on her breast slowly faded.

She sighed in relief and when she opened her eyes she had tears beginning to fall as she smiled widely.

"Th- thank you so much!" She choked out as she bowed her head all the way to ground at Duran's feet. He stared awkwardly before grabbing a cloak off the ground and tossing it over her sobbing form. He gently placed a hand upon her head and patted it softly.

"Your safe now." He whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~chapter end ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We're back! Sorry for the delay, work stuff came up and set me back a little.

Also you didn't think someone with a grandfather nicknamed "Bloody General" was going to be normal did you? This will be brought up and expanded upon throughout the story, so look forward to that.

Also I figure this spoiler should be fine as I feel most of you would have probably guessed, but the Elf will be his traveling partner! It should make for an interesting dynamic I think. Though I will admit to the cheesiness of MC rescuing a slave elf girl from slave traders just like Arthur, but oh well.

Thinking of bringing along the healer girl as well, but that may be too much for what I have planned, as I do want him to attend the academy and healer girl is already late 20s, so it wouldn't really work.

Anyways thanks for reading.

Until next time.