Chapter 7: When Hope Strikes

Towan barely registered the blur of motion before—THUD. A sharp, Essentia-enhanced jab struck his ribs with brutal precision, sending him flying backward like a ragdoll. White-hot pain exploded through his chest as he hit the ground hard, the impact rattling his bones and leaving him gasping for air that wouldn't come.

Elliot barely had time to widen his eyes before a rough, calloused hand seized his head in an iron grip, fingers digging painfully into his scalp. The bandit's smirk was triumphant as he leaned in close, his breath hot against Elliot's ear. "You're coming with me—"

WHOOSH!

A sudden, unnatural gust of wind howled through the trees, strong enough to bend branches and send leaves swirling in a violent vortex.

A blur of motion. A force too fast to track.

SLAM!

The bandit was ripped away from Elliot, sent skidding backward across the forest floor, barely managing to keep his footing. At the same moment, strong hands caught both brothers—one steadying Towan's battered form, the other supporting Elliot's trembling frame.

A familiar voice, calm yet edged with steel, cut through the chaos. "Didn't I tell you two to run?"

Towan's breath hitched painfully in his bruised chest. "L-Leon?"

The supposed 'merchant' stood protectively before them, his cloak billowing slightly from the residual winds he had summoned. His sharp eyes locked onto the bandit with terrifying focus, his entire presence radiating controlled power. The air around him hummed with barely-contained energy, the very atmosphere seeming to vibrate with his restrained might.

And for the first time that night—as Leon's silhouette stood between them and certain death—Towan felt something fragile yet undeniable flicker to life in his chest.

Hope.

The bandit's eyes darted toward Leon, his pupils dilating with sudden unease. "How did you even get here?!" he demanded, voice cracking with barely-concealed panic.

Leon didn't break stride. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, each one measured and brimming with lethal confidence. "None of your business," he replied, his voice calm—almost bored—as if this were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

The bandit's body tensed, his muscles coiling like a cornered animal.

Something in the air had changed.

He didn't know who this man was, but every instinct in his body screamed at him—this one's dangerous.

Without hesitation, he lunged forward, his fist crackling with earth-infused Essentia, the very air around his knuckles distorting as he aimed to bury Leon where he stood.

SWISH!

Leon sidestepped effortlessly. His movements were fluid, almost lazy in their precision, as if he had already mapped out every possible outcome before the attack even began. The bandit barely registered the evasion before—

THWACK!

A low kick, faster than thought, swept his legs out from under him. His balance shattered. His body tilted—

CRACK!

Leon's elbow crashed into his face like a hammer. But this wasn't just brute force—it was reinforced. A burst of wind-boosted Essentia erupted on impact, sending the bandit soaring backward, flipping once in midair before landing hard on the dirt, rolling to a graceless stop.

Towan and Elliot stared, their eyes wide, their breaths frozen in their throats.

This… this was a completely different level.

The bandit groaned, staggering to his feet. Blood dripped from his broken nose, his face twisted in rage and disbelief. "You—!" he snarled, voice thick with fury.

Leon was already moving.

The bandit swung wildly, his fist trailing a jagged wake of earth Essentia, but Leon ducked under it, his form seamless, untouched. A single palm strike to the ribs—whump!—forced every last gasp of air from the bandit's lungs.

Before he could recover, Leon spun behind him, his movements a blur, and drove his knee into the small of his back—CRACK!

"GRAH!" The bandit gasped, his spine arching violently as he stumbled forward, barely catching himself on trembling arms.

Leon exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "Is this all you got?" he asked, his voice chillingly calm.

The words weren't a taunt.

They were a verdict.

Snarling, the bandit thrust his hands into the ground with a roar. "Enough!"

The earth trembled. Jagged stone spikes erupted from the soil like monstrous teeth, racing toward Leon in a deadly wave.

Elliot's breath hitched. "Leon—!"

But Leon merely sighed.

He took a single step back, his body loose, relaxed—as if this were nothing more than a mild annoyance. Then, without warning—

FWOOOSH!

A violent burst of wind exploded from beneath him, kicking up dust and debris in a swirling vortex. The ground shattered where he had been standing, the sheer force of the gale launching him into the air with impossible grace.

For a heartbeat, he hung suspended—twisting midair, his silhouette stark against the moonlight—before—

THUD!

He landed right behind the bandit, his boots touching down without a sound.

The bandit froze.

A second later—

BAM!

A razor-sharp chop to the back of his neck.

The fight was over before his body even hit the ground.

Towan and Elliot couldn't move.

Moments ago, they had been helpless.

Leon? He made it look effortless.

Adjusting his cloak with a flick of his wrist, Leon glanced down at the unconscious bandit. "I warned you to run, didn't I?"

Towan swallowed hard, his fists clenching at his sides.

For the first time, he truly understood—how weak they were.