The Escape

"Rock Shattering Fist!" Arthur used the only attack technique in his arsenal.

He punched out a fist at the Golem armor-covered face of Sir Arash. Sir Arash was suddenly taken aback by the unexpected turn of events, failing to react in time. The fist landed squarely on his face, and pieces of the Golem armor shattered into dust in places. His mind was stunned for a few seconds.

Punch! Punch! Punch!

Arthur fought back with his life on the line, each strike fueled by sheer desperation. Fragments of the Golem armor broke apart with every blow. Sir Arash's grip on Arthur's neck weakened and finally slipped due to the relentless assault.

As Sir Arash raised his arm to counterattack, Arthur dodged swiftly and continued pounding his face until the rock covering his visage crumbled away completely. Gasping for breath, Arthur's fists trembled but never stopped moving.

When Sir Arash covered his arms over his face to shield himself, Arthur seized the opportunity. Without hesitation, he grabbed his mother, flung her over his shoulders, and bolted at full speed.

The anticipated attack never came. When Sir Arash finally lowered his arms, Arthur was already hundreds of meters away.

"Follow the damn brat and bring him to me!" Sir Arash roared, rage twisting his features as he charged after Arthur.

Arthur didn't look back. His sole focus was on survival as he sprinted toward the nearby forest. Attacks came from behind, but Arthur relied on his instincts and the faint sounds of projectiles to dodge most of them without turning around. His mind was spinning at full gear, desperate to outmaneuver his pursuers.

He reached the forest just as the sun dipped below the horizon. The dense canopy plunged the area into near darkness, and shadows stretched ominously around him. The forest, known for its dangers at night, was the least of Arthur's concerns. It offered cover, a chance at survival. He didn't hesitate, plunging deeper into its depths without a second thought.

After running for what felt like an eternity, Arthur finally stopped. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his legs felt like lead. He gently placed his mother on the ground, utterly exhausted. His body throbbed with pain from his wounds, but there was no time to tend to them.

The darkness enveloped them completely. He could barely see anything beyond a five-foot radius. As the night wore on, the eerie silence of the forest was punctuated by distant rustles and animal cries. The adrenaline that had kept him going began to fade, and the overwhelming exhaustion and pain overtook him.

Arthur's eyelids drooped unknowingly. Before he realized it, he had fallen asleep, snoring lightly.

After an unknown amount of time passed

No! We're in the forest! How could I let myself fall asleep out in the open? Panic surged through him as he opened his eyes sharply.

He was lying on the ground, his mother sitting close by, watching over him.

"You're finally awake," she said softly, brushing his hair back with a gentle hand. Her voice was calm, but her eyes betrayed the worry she felt.

Arthur sat up groggily, wincing as his sore muscles protested. He noticed the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the trees, signaling the arrival of morning.

I slept the whole night out in the open? he thought, relief washing over him before a sudden realization struck.

"Mother, were you awake the whole night?" Arthur asked, his voice tinged with guilt.

"Yes," she replied, her tone warm but firm. "I had to stay awake to protect you. If anything had attacked, I needed to be ready to wake you up. But don't worry. We were lucky—nothing happened."

Her loving smile as she stroked his chin only deepened Arthur's guilt. He placed his hands over hers, his eyes welling up with tears.

"I'm sorry, Mother. It's my fault that Kian injured you. Because of me, we had to leave everything behind. And I… I fell asleep, leaving you alone to face the dangers of the night. I'm sorry." His voice cracked as he sobbed quietly.

"It's not your fault, son. This is the rule of the world that we live in," she said gently, pulling him into an embrace. "The weak are always oppressed. You can either tolerate it or run away from it. Running away was the only way to preserve our lives. We will start a new life somewhere. All is good till you are alive."

Arthur wiped his tears and clenched his fists. He didn't want to tolerate or run away anymore. He wanted to fight back. But right now, he lacked the strength to do that. So, he promised himself—he would get stronger, no matter what it took. 

Watching him wiping his tears, she smiled, her faith in him unwavering. "Good boy. Now, let's see how your wounds are. We need to make sure they're not getting infected."

Arthur's mother inspected his face and arms, frowning at the dried blood obscuring his injuries.

"Try moving around a bit and tell me how you feel," she suggested.

Arthur tested his limbs, stretching cautiously. To his surprise, the pain was manageable, and his movements felt unrestricted.

"I feel a bit sore, but nothing too bad," he said, genuinely surprised by how quickly he was recovering.

"Well, that's a relief," his mother replied. "But we need to find a safe place to rest, some water, and food. With all that warrior training, I hope you've learned how to catch us something to eat."

Arthur spent the next hour searching for a secure place to rest. He found a large, sturdy tree with wide branches high enough to keep them safe from most predators. With his mother on his back, he climbed the tree and built a makeshift shelter using leaves and branches. By the time he finished, it was well past noon.

Leaving his mother on the treetop, Arthur ventured out to find water and food. Along the way, he picked wild berries and spotted a boar. Using the techniques he had learned during his training, he managed to hunt it. He carefully skinned the animal, setting aside the hide to craft a water container.

He found a small stream a few kilometers away, where he bathed, scrubbing off the dried blood. As the water washed over him, Arthur noticed something remarkable—his wounds had almost completely healed. The realization left him stunned.

How is this possible? A day ago, I was battered and bleeding. Is this because of the training? Or… something else?

After bathing, Arthur gathered water in the makeshift container and started a fire to roast the boar meat. By the time he returned to his mother with the food and water, the sun was setting. They shared the meal in silence, their exhaustion too great for conversation.

When they finally fell asleep on the treetop, Arthur's mind raced with thoughts of their next steps. His promise to grow stronger echoed in his head, a vow that would guide him through the trials to come.