章 4: Redemption.
Erika's eyes narrowed (with intensity), her hands gripping the hilt of her blade as she stood encircled by her soldiers. The air was thick with tension; however, her gaze was firmly fixed on Roy—the man who had irreparably shattered her family, the man against whom she had vowed vengeance. Her voice trembled with rage, as she declared, "I'm not here to discuss philosophy with you, Mr. Murderer. Justice is justice. I don't have a specific answer to your pointless questions. Enough talk!" At her command, the soldiers began to encircle him, the atmosphere growing heavier, as if the weight of the impending battle pressed down on everyone present. Erika's voice rang out with a fierce conviction: "Soldiers, surround this man. Today we will exact our revenge. This is the man responsible for the tragedy that befell us—he killed our king and obliterated our domain. Your loved ones were murdered; it's all his fault. Now, the man of tragedy stands before you. Let us have our revenge!" Roy remained perfectly still, his demeanor unshaken by their threats. He surveyed the battlefield, his mind working swiftly because he was calculating his next move. His eyes darted across the enemy lines, counting them one by one, although he appeared unfazed.
**1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6... 17.**
A total of seventeen individuals stood before him—ten warriors from Erika's tribe and seven armed cavalrymen. Judging by their posture and the manner in which they carried themselves, it was evident that they were inexperienced. The men of the tribe were still acquiring skills; their movements lacked the confidence typical of seasoned fighters. Even the cavalry, although perhaps somewhat more trained, exuded the air of novices. They might possess some level of training, but none could genuinely threaten him—not in their current state. **Except for Miral Krules' general, Ralf.** He was the sole individual who could potentially pose a significant danger, yet he was absent. Roy smirked, his lips twisting into a cold smile. "Foolish woman. Do you truly believe you can defeat me with these seventeen amateurs?" Erika's eyes widened in disbelief. "How did he know?" She clenched her teeth, attempting to conceal her unease. "So what if they lack experience? They may not have faced real battles, but they are talented and you are injured. Are you certain you can confront them?" Roy chuckled darkly. "Do not make me laugh. I am regarded as one of the finest commanders in Narzan's history and you think they can eliminate me merely because of an injury? You have severely underestimated my capabilities."
Erika's smirk returned; however, it carried an undertone of malice. "Oh really? That might be true if you possessed any weapons. An unarmed, injured man like yourself is nothing more than a stray dog. I'm not the one underestimating you—you're the one who is overestimating your capabilities." Roy sighed, expressing his disappointment. "You let me down, Miss Krules. Your father was far more cunning and able. He was a man deserving of my challenge. But you... You're naive. Do you genuinely believe I entered this situation without a plan?" She snapped back, her patience waning. "I don't comprehend what you're babbling about. Can I kill you now?" Roy chuckled softly. "Wait, wait, don't be so hasty. You might regret it later. I have something to reveal to you." She glared at him, unwilling to squander any more time. "If this is your last wish, then speak quickly." Roy leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting with something sinister. "How generous of you. Now, let's begin. I'm certain you haven't forgotten about your younger siblings... Your cherished brother and sister." Erika's expression hardened. "Yes, my deceased younger brother and sister... you killed them as well. And that is precisely why I am going to kill you. To avenge them."
Roy's grin expanded. "Come on now, don't use past tense; they didn't die yet." Her brows knitted together and her eyes widened in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean they're not dead?" Roy's tone was cool and calculated. "Didn't you hear me? Your siblings are still alive." She took a step back, her heart racing. "Bluffing about two dead people? I'm not going to grant you a quick death now, you bastard." Roy's smirk remained unchanged. "You jest. Why would I bluff about this? When I killed your father and you managed to escape, I anticipated that you'd eventually seek your revenge. However, your siblings... they were trapped. So I took them with me as war prisoners. If you kill me here, your beloved siblings will perish. But if you allow me to leave, I assure you that I will return them to you." Erika stood frozen, disbelief washing over her. The shock struck her like a physical blow and her mind reeled, struggling to comprehend his words. Was it true? Could he possibly be lying? Or was this simply a cruel manipulation?
Roy's smile grew more pronounced, as he discerned the doubt lingering in her gaze. The anguish of losing her family—of having them forcibly separated from her—remained palpable. For an entire year, she had clung to the belief that they were lost to her forever. However, just as she began to mend, he was presenting her with this cruel flicker of hope. Roy's voice, low and nearly soothing, broke the tension once more. "What will you do, Miss Krules? Will you save your beloved ones, or will you continue to pursue your vengeance? You see, these amateurs can't kill me."
Erika found herself paralyzed; speech eluded her as her mind became inundated with conflicting emotions. But before she could arrive at a decision, the heavy sound of footsteps shattered the silence. A man, perhaps thirty-five or thirty-six years of age, stepped forward—a figure built like a warrior, his muscles a testament to years of combat experience. Ralf, the preeminent general of Miral Krules, entered the clearing with an air of confidence, a smirk gracing his face. "Princess Erika, good work. Now you can leave the rest to me. I'll take care of our king's murderer." Erika's eyes widened in horror. "No, no, no! Wait! He said my younger brother and sister are still alive! We can't kill him! I have to—"
Ralf interrupted her, his voice icy and resolute. "I apologize for my rudeness, Princess; however, with all due respect, I cannot comply with your orders. He is clearly deceiving us. Moreover, you're naive enough to accept his words as truth. If we allow him to escape now, we won't have this opportunity again for the next hundred years." Erika's voice trembled with fury. "Have you lost your mind, Ralf? You intend to defy my commands? It might indeed be a fabrication, but what if it isn't? They will perish if we execute him!" Ralf sighed, his demeanor growing stern. "I'm sorry, Princess. These troops are under my command and they respond solely to me and the late king. If your siblings are still alive, they will die in the name of our fallen ruler. We shall avenge our king now." Ralf raised his hand, signaling the soldiers to charge. "Troops, form a triangle! Attack in a zigzag formation. He's merely an injured man. We can subdue him." "Yes, sir!" the soldiers replied in unison. Roy's lips twisted into a grin as the soldiers advanced. They were moving too slowly. The cavalrymen were the first to charge, their horses thundering toward him. One soldier closed in on Roy with a sword, but just as he was about to strike, Roy vanished. The soldier blinked in bewilderment, only to hear a shout from his comrade.
"Idiot! Look to your left!"
Before the soldier could respond, Roy's foot made contact with his face, propelling him into another cavalryman (both of whom collapsed in a heap). Roy swiftly seized the fallen soldier's sword and mounted a horse, prepared for combat. Ralf understood that this situation would be challenging; he barked orders, instructing his troops to devise a new strategy. "Soldiers, don't allow him to escape! Attack him from all sides!" However, Roy simply chuckled, "This isn't going to work, kids. You're too slow. You can't even touch me, let alone kill me." With astonishing speed, Roy charged to the right, cutting down half of the soldiers before they could even register his movement. "See? I warned you not to fight," he taunted, his voice dripping with scorn. Ralf clenched his teeth in frustration. How could this be occurring? How could his own soldiers—mere amateurs—be so effortlessly defeated? The tribe's men began to panic, their resolve disintegrating. One by one, they commenced their retreat, acutely aware of their disadvantage. "Where are you running off to, cowards?" Ralf shouted, exasperated. "It's just one man! Stand and fight!" But the soldiers persisted in their flight. "Pride? Forget your pride! If you've got a death wish, then engage him. Can't you see his strength? We're no match for him!"
Ralf stood alone, accompanied by only a handful of his men, his face contorted in rage. Roy chuckled once more, shaking his head in disapproval. "See? (This) is precisely why I advised you against fighting. We could have resolved this through dialogue. You foolish idiots. Revenge isn't as simple as you think, is it?" He then shifted his gaze to Erika, who was now frozen in a state of indecision. "Feel free to attempt again, if you are capable."
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