Turai stood still, staring at the blood-red words smeared across the wall: "You little bastard, come find me." The message, though vague to the unknowing, carried a sharp weight of clarity for him. The writer had no need to mention his name; the challenge was clear. Whoever had left this message was calling him out directly, and Turai knew it without a doubt.
He sighed deeply and turned to Hubert, who stood behind him to his left. "It's me they're after," Turai muttered, his voice calm but firm.
Gareth, standing on Turai's other side, sucked in a sharp breath at the boy's words. Hubert's jaw clenched as well, though his expression remained composed. While Turai remained unshaken, both men felt the growing tension of what was to come. The significance of this challenge was not lost on Hubert, who understood more than anyone what this implied.
"This is a result of Otto's death," Hubert said quietly, his voice tinged with the weight of realization. "You killed the cub. And now the lion is on the move. Just like the dead bastard had said to you."
Turai kept his gaze steady on the writing, seemingly unfazed by the ominous revelation. He had known there would be consequences for killing Otto Boomsgath. Still, hearing Hubert confirm it out loud only cemented the reality of the situation.
Hubert shifted uneasily and glanced at Gareth, who mirrored his concern. Both men had encountered the darker side of the world enough to recognize the implications of being hunted by an organization like the Black Bicorn. For many Wanderers, just hearing that name would be enough to make them run or hide. But Turai was different.
"Turai," Hubert began, "this… this is serious. Whoever they send next won't be like Otto. If the organization is involved, they'll send someone stronger, more experienced. This could be someone on my level, or worse."
Turai, however, didn't budge. His expression remained neutral, his eyes unblinking as Hubert explained what was at stake. When Hubert tried to impress upon him the gravity of facing someone possibly as strong as himself, Turai simply shrugged and responded, "I'll deal with them when the time comes."
Hubert stared at the boy, a mix of disbelief and admiration creeping into his thoughts. How could someone so young—someone barely twelve years old—speak so calmly about facing a threat that could level a town? Turai's resolve was unshakeable, his confidence unnerving. Hubert began to wonder about the true depth of the boy's strength and capabilities. Was this just youthful bravado, or had Turai already surpassed them in ways they couldn't yet comprehend?
Gareth's reaction was entirely different. He broke into a wide grin, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "That's the spirit!" he said, slapping Turai's back in approval. Gareth had always admired strength, and Turai's fearless attitude only fed into that admiration. If Turai could really take down someone from the Black Bicorn on his own, then it meant the boy had already surpassed them in potential, despite being so much younger.
It was becoming clearer why Turai had refused to join their group. He wasn't simply being modest or unsure—he might truly believe he didn't need them.
However, while Gareth might appear to be all muscle and brawn, he wasn't as dim as many assumed. Beneath his rough exterior lay a sharp mind, one that was quick to grasp the nuances of any situation. He understood that, despite Turai's strength, the boy might still need their help. A fight this dangerous wasn't just about brute force or magic; it was about strategy, and the safety of those around him—particularly the orphanage.
Gareth kept his thoughts to himself for the moment, but a troubling realization crept in: Turai's presence in the town could put the orphanage and the children in grave danger. The enemy could easily use them as leverage or force Turai to fight while protecting them. If Turai stayed here, the orphanage might become a target. Yet, Gareth didn't voice this just yet, waiting for the right moment to bring it up.
As they stood there, Gareth noticed that they had been lingering in the marketplace for a little too long. The scene, once gruesome and chaotic, had now been cleared by the guards. The blood had been washed from the cobblestones, and curious onlookers were slowly beginning to gather again, their gazes flicking between the three standing figures and the writing on the wall.
Gareth cleared his throat. "Maybe we should get going," he suggested. "We're starting to attract attention."
Turai nodded in agreement. Without another word, the three of them turned and began walking back toward the orphanage. As they made their way through the streets, Turai remained quiet, lost in thought. He was calculating, assessing the situation from all angles. He knew this wasn't just about facing a new enemy. This mysterious figure wasn't simply hunting him—there was something more at play, something deeper.
Why had they targeted the townsfolk? What was the purpose behind such a public display of violence? If they were truly after him, why not confront him directly instead of going after innocent people? The questions gnawed at Turai, but he kept them to himself for now.
As they neared the orphanage, Hubert glanced at Turai, breaking the silence. "What's the plan?" he asked. "If they're coming after you, we need to be prepared."
Turai didn't answer right away. He was still deep in thought, but one thing was becoming clear to him. He couldn't stay here—not if he wanted to protect the orphanage and the children. But that decision, and what came next, would need careful planning.
"I'll figure it out," Turai finally said, his voice steady and calm. "But we need to make sure the orphanage is safe first."
Hubert nodded, trusting the boy's instincts. As much as he wanted to take charge of the situation, he knew Turai was more than capable of handling himself. Even so, the threat of what was to come loomed large in all their minds. Whatever—or whoever—this new enemy was, they weren't done yet. And the next confrontation would be far deadlier than before.
As they approached the orphanage, the shadows of danger seemed to lengthen around them, an unseen menace lurking in the distance.