Chapter 21: The Stilled Time

The apothecary's shopkeeper pulled a bundle of banknotes from the cash drawer and tossed them onto the thick-browed man's face.

"This is the last time. From now on, never show yourself before me again."

The thick-browed man chuckled darkly, bent down to pick up the notes, patted them, and stuffed them into his coat. With a playful kiss thrown at the apothecary, he strode confidently toward the door, preparing to leave.

Whoosh—

The door creaked open. A child, cradling an infant in his arms, appeared before the thick-browed man and the apothecary. Was he here for medical treatment? But why, then, did the blizzard that followed him into the shop feel so fierce and so cold?

The thick-browed man paid little heed to the ragged child, merely grunting as he stepped aside, unwilling to disturb the apothecary's business. The little beggar, undeterred, dashed toward the medicine cabinet, clearly intent on seeking care.

"Boy, are you here for treatment?"

How much could a child afford? The apothecary continued tallying his profits, casting a quick glance at the beggar with his peripheral vision.

The beggar said nothing. Unlike other patients, he did not stand at the counter. Instead, he ran directly behind it, extending his hand to grasp the apothecary's sleeve.

This action baffled everyone. The apothecary, concerned that the boy might be attempting to steal, instinctively shielded the open cash drawer. Just as he was about to scold him, loud barks echoed from the street. A servant, leading three dogs and accompanied by a squad of four soldiers, burst into the shop in a flurry of movement.

"Boss! Big Boss! Trouble! The mission I carried out for you has been exposed! This is the reward you gave me, I don't want it anymore!"

The beggar fished a concealed scrip from his coat and thrust it into the apothecary's hand. Before the apothecary could react, the beggar, still clutching the infant, spun on his heel and darted toward a side door behind the counter.

What was happening?

Both the thick-browed man and the apothecary stood stunned by the sudden turn of events. Meanwhile, the soldiers, realizing what was happening, unsheathed their swords and rushed forward.

"So it was you behind it all! You dared to lay hands on the princess of the Elk Empire! Prepare to die!"

Without hesitation, the thick-browed man, no stranger to violence, drew his own blade in defense. The apothecary, his mind still filled with sinister thoughts, hastily grabbed his money and attempted to flee, only to be struck dead by an arrow through the heart from one of the soldiers.

Within the drugstore, amidst the blizzard, a fierce battle broke out. The thick-browed man, skilled in combat, managed to escape despite his numerous wounds, fleeing toward his comrades. The soldiers, after a few shouted orders, pursued relentlessly. The next morning, the early news reported the elimination of a mercenary assassination ring by the local security forces.

The apothecary's shop had a back door. Considering the close relationship between the shopkeeper and the thick-browed man, it was certain the door had been rigged for such an escape. The beggar opened the rear door and found himself in a narrow alley. After a brief survey, he immediately recognized his location and fled once again.

"Heh heh heh, truly amusing. Human boy, following you has certainly been nothing short of thrilling. But at times, beasts can be far more cunning than humans. Will you survive this final trial?"

The blood-red eyes gleamed with excitement. The door behind the beggar trembled as it was struck repeatedly. The boy's strength was nearly exhausted, but there was no time for him to catch his breath; he continued to run.

The door burst open, and the howling of wolves filled the air. Three hounds, followed by their brutal master—a male servant armed with a curved blade—emerged from the doorway, their vicious pursuit of the beggar unyielding.

Whoosh... Whoosh... Whoosh...

Breathing heavily, the beggar's legs trembled with exhaustion. He had been running for over an hour through the snowstorm, and if not for his strong survival instinct, any ordinary person would have collapsed by now. Yet, he pressed on, evading the relentless pursuit.

The sweat on his brow froze as it spilled, solidifying into cold shards. His body felt stiff, the icy sweat clogging his capillaries, making it impossible to expel. His legs felt like they were filled with lead, each step a painful ordeal.

He was only ten years old.

At that age, no matter how strong one's will to survive might be, the body's limitations would inevitably catch up.

Crack...

Finally, after stumbling onto another street, his body gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground.

...

Snowflakes fell softly, as if to cover the beggar with his final shroud. With his arms raised high, he cradled the infant, protecting her from being crushed as he fell.

Tasting the snow in his mouth and feeling the bitter cold of nature's embrace, the beggar's breathing grew heavier. His legs cramped, and he could no longer rise. All he could do was roll over, sitting up with great difficulty, and the first thing he did was pull the infant closer to check on her.

She was asleep...

Seeing this, a trace of peace finally flickered in the beggar's cold, emotionless eyes.

"Kid... I've finally found you."

A filthy, rat-like face appeared before the beggar, followed by three snarling hounds. The cruel figure stood tall, the glint of a curved blade in his hand as he sneered down at the helpless beggar.

Snowflakes whipped through the air, biting the skin like sharp knives. The night had fallen, the streets were empty, and the homes on either side of the road were dark, their occupants lost in sleep. Only the harsh winds and falling snow remained, as the beggar's fate hung in the balance.

The vicious dogs circled the boy, their mouths open, showing their gleaming teeth and drooling with hunger. Their master twirled his blade with sadistic glee, mocking the beggar, who could do nothing but await his fate. With a malicious smile, the man raised his blade, ready to strike.

The blade descended, cutting through the snowflakes and leaving a gash across the beggar's cheek. It wasn't that the beggar had dodged—it was a deliberate act of cruelty, meant to amuse his tormentor by witnessing the boy's terror.

Red blood poured from the wound, freezing on the cold face, but the beggar's expression remained unchanged. He merely gazed coldly at his attacker, unflinching.

"Haha, trash. You're truly calm, aren't you? It seems this little injury won't scare you, huh? If that's the case, I'll start by cutting off your limbs, then chop them up and feed them to you. After all, our princess has already sworn hatred against you. I'm sure it won't matter how much I play with you, will it?"

The beggar curled into himself, clutching the infant tightly. He shifted backward, trying to shield her with his own frail body.

"Tch. Your face really disgusts me! I don't believe you're not afraid! Get him! Tear him apart! All of you—on him!"

At the signal, the dogs leapt forward, teeth bared, aiming for the beggar's small body...

No one could save him. In that moment, the beggar hugged the infant even tighter...

Time, stopped.

...

The beggar, clutching the infant, stared into the gaping mouths of the vicious hounds. The dogs' mouths were so close he could smell their fetid breath.

The snowflakes froze mid-air, and the saliva dripping from the dogs' jaws hung suspended, motionless. At that moment, everything came to a halt.

The beggar couldn't move; he could only watch, only breathe, only feel the weight of the infant in his arms, unable to shift. The claws of two wolves had already landed on his shoulders, their presence so real, yet he remained entirely immobile. His pupils wouldn't even shift. He could only fixate on the oncoming wolf, its teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

"Heh heh heh, boy, isn't this amusing?"

The sinister voice echoed in his mind. Despite the halt of time, the blood-red eyes at his hand opened once more, locking onto the beggar.

"..."

"First, let me tell you. I haven't stopped time. What I've done is enhance your cognitive abilities a thousandfold. This is all thanks to your natural instinct to remain calm even when your life is in danger."

"..."

"Don't understand? Let me explain it simply. Time, as a concept, only exists relative to the human mind's perception. The more events the brain processes in a given period, the slower time seems to pass. Conversely, the fewer events, the faster time seems to fly. Normally, you can think of many things in a single second, but after amplifying it by a thousand, that same second now feels like a thousandth of a second to you."

"That's why you feel like time has stopped. In reality, time around you is moving at a speed a thousand times slower than normal, which translates to a little over sixteen minutes for you. That's the power I've granted you. So, do you understand now, boy?"

"..."

"Ah, your spirit still resists me, huh? Heh, I like that! But let me warn you—this power has limitations. Your brain and body are still human. Maintaining such high-speed cognition burns tremendous energy and will eventually overheat. If you overuse this ability, your brain will melt and you'll die. This time, I've helped you activate it by force, and when time returns to normal, the ability will vanish. If you want to use it again, you'll have to let me inside your body."

"..."

"You don't need to respond. We'll have plenty of time to discuss things once you're mine. For now... survive, if you can."