Chapter 42
"Whoa, Whoa!" the gruff voices of the men on horseback rang out, bringing their steeds to a halt a short distance from the carriage.
Eleni glanced nervously at Clair, whispering, "What do you think they want?"
Clair's brow furrowed as she replied in a hushed tone, "I'm not sure, but let's wait and see."
Michalis had quietly slipped out of the carriage and taken cover in the nearby bushes, ready to ambush if the situation turned dire.
Dimitra swiftly scaled a nearby tree, bow and quiver in hand, securing a high vantage point.
The rest - Clair, Eleni, Nikolaos, Vasiliki, and Vasileios - remained seated in the carriage, tense and alert, prepared to react to any developments.
Thud!
One of the men, a grizzled and weathered individual, approached Draco on his horse, dismounting in front of him.
Draco eyed the man with a hint of displeasure, sensing the subtle disdain in the stranger's gaze.
The man was clad in medium armor, a necklace made of what appeared to be goblin-sized skulls adorning his neck.
He reeked of alcohol and poor hygiene, his accessories clinking as he moved.
"Oi, brat, what business do you have here?" the man growled, his tone dripping with gruff contempt.
Draco straightened his posture, meeting the man’s gaze unflinchingly.
“We’re just travelers heading to the city on the other side,” he replied, his tone calm and measured.
It was difficult to discern whether these men were bandits or soldiers; their armor and equipment suggested the latter, yet their demeanor and actions hinted at the former.
The man turned to his fellow horsemen, a wicked grin spreading across his weathered features.
“Traveler’s, you say? A bunch of brats like you?” the man scoffed, the others joined in his laughter, their voices carrying a menacing undertone.
Straightening, the man fixed Draco with a piercing gaze.
“Well, if you want to pass through these parts, you’re going to have to pay the toll. We control these roads,” the man declared.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “So, you’re bandits then?” he asked in confirmation.
The man’s lips curled into a sinister grin as he stroked his scraggly beard. The man then let out a booming laugh, his yellowed teeth on full display.
“Haha, you catch on fast, lad. Say, you’re an odd-looking brat. Those horns and tail of yours, I bet they’d fetch a pretty penny,” the man said.
His gaze soon shifting to the carriage, where Draco’s sisters sat, their beauty evident even from a distance.
Draco narrowed his eyes at the man, his hand balled into a fist.
He didn’t want to act yet until he confirmed the exact level of strength the bandits possessed.
His siblings in the carriage watched in disgust as the man’s turned his face, his gaze lingered on them, his expression twisting into one of lecherous intent.
The man’s eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger, and he leered at the girls, his voice dripping with vulgar suggestions.
“Aye, those pretty lasses of yours, they’d make fine additions to our, shall we say, ‘collection’. Why don’t you surrender peacefully, and we’ll make sure you all end up in good hands?” the man threatened, brandishing the sword on his waist.
Draco’s blood boiled with rage at the man’s vulgar comments about his sisters.
In a flash, his arm transformed into a razor-sharp dragon’s claw, and with a speed that the bandits could barely follow, he slashed the man’s throat, sending him tumbling to the ground, his life’s blood spilling onto the snow-covered ground.
The man’s eyes widened in disbelief as he clutched at the gaping wound, slowly choking on his own blood until his body lay lifeless on the ground.
The other bandits, stunned by the sudden and brutal display, reeled in shock, their weapons drawn.
His siblings watched in horror as their brother took a life, their faces etched with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
“What the- you killed him!” one of the bandits shouted, his voice trembling.
The men immediately drew their weapons and charged at Draco, their faces twisted with rage and fear.
Draco’s eyes narrowed, and with a fluid motion, he unleashed a flurry of savage attacks, his claws tearing through flesh and bone with reckless abandon.
He met their attack with unbridled ferocity, his transformed limb slashing and tearing through his opponents with ease.
The bandits’ cries of pain and terror echoed through the area as Draco dispatched them one by one, his movements a blur, his claws and talons cutting them down with merciless efficiency.
‘This is the perfect chance to teach them what the world is truly like and what they should expect in Orario,’ Draco thought, wiping some blood from his claws.
“Just killing monsters in the forest for the past four years wasn’t enough,” he muttered, upon seeing the expression on his siblings.
As the last bandit fell, Draco turned his gaze towards the fortified encampment in the distance, his expression hardening.
“This is only the beginning,” he muttered.
Snapping his siblings from their reverie, Draco instructed them to follow him, their eyes widening in horror as they took in the sight of the lifeless bodies strewn around them.
The reality of their situation had finally sunk in, the stark difference between the corpses of monsters and those of people a jarring realization.
"We have more work to do," he said, his tone commanding and firm.
"We're going to ensure that every last one of these bandits pays the ultimate price for their crimes," he added.
Eleni and Clair's faces turned pale, their stomachs churning at the prospect of more violence.
Nikolaos, Dimitra, Vasiliki, Michalis and Vasileios exchanged worried glances, unsure of how to react to their brother's sudden ruthlessness.
Nonetheless, they followed Draco as he strode towards the bandit encampment, his aura radiating a sense of grim determination.
As they reached the entrance of the bandit encampment, the siblings could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on them.
The air was thick with tension, the sounds of their footsteps crunching in the snow only to be broken by the sound of shouting and the clanging of weapons that echoed through the air, signaling that the bandits had been alerted to their presence.
Draco's eyes narrowed, his fingers flexing as he prepared to break open the gates. He could see that some archers were climbing onto the scout tower.
"Stay close to each other, and remember your training. These bandits won't show you any mercy, and you can't afford to hold back. Understood?" he instructed.
The siblings, their faces pale and their hands trembling, nodded in agreement, their resolve hardening in the face of the impending confrontation.
Draco clenched his fist, coating it with earth magic as he stared at the heavy wooden doors of the bandit encampment.
Fwoosh!!!
He rushed at the gates before the archer could make it to the top.
Smash!!!
With a rumbling groan, the sturdy entrance crumbled into rubble, opening a path for him and his siblings to enter the stronghold.
"Only kill those who are armed. There may be prisoners we need to help," he instructed.
His siblings nodded, expressions grim but determined.
Clair tightened her grip on her long spear, Michalis twirled his dual daggers, and Eleni unsheathed her longsword.
Nikolaos hoisted his massive two-handed hammer, Dimitra nocked an arrow on her longbow, and Vasileios raised his spiked shield.
Vasiliki's fingers flexed, ice magic crackling at her fingertips.
As they stepped over the collapsed doorway, the sound of shouting and the clamor of weapons being drawn echoed through the fortress.
Bandits poured out from the shadows both male and females, swords and axes raised.
Clair was the first to strike, her spear lashing out with blinding speed.
The tip pierced a bandit's chest, and he crumpled to the ground with a gurgled scream.
Instinctively she had gone for a critical organ as she did when hunting monsters.
Her eyes widened, a mix of horror and adrenaline, as she yanked the spear free.
Michalis darted between the bandits, his daggers flashing.
With a fluid grace, he slit one's throat, blood spraying across his face.
He paused momentarily, expression unreadable, before launching himself at another target.
Eleni met the swing of a bandit's sword with her own, the clash of steel ringing out.
She gritted her teeth, pushing back against her opponent, before driving her blade into his abdomen.
As he fell, she averted her gaze, a look of shame crossing her features.
Nikolaos roared, his massive hammer crashing down on a bandit's skull, caving it in with a sickening crunch.
Bone and brain matter splattered across his cloak, and he let out a shuddering breath, his hands trembling.
Dimitra fired arrow after arrow, each one finding its mark.
Bandits fell, clutching at the shafts protruding from their bodies.
She swallowed hard, her stomach churning at the sight of their agonized expressions.
Vasileios bashed his spiked shield into a bandit's face, the spikes tearing through flesh and bone.
The woman's scream was cut short as Vasileios followed up with a ruthless slash of his short sword.
He grimaced, wiping the blood from his eyes.
Vasiliki's hands glowed with her ice magic, and she unleashed a torrent of razor-sharp icicles.
They impaled the bandits, freezing them in place as they died.
She shuddered, struggling to keep her expression neutral.
Draco stood back, watching his siblings fight with a stoic expression.
He knew that this was something that they needed to experience to survive.
He could see that the weight of their actions was evident in their faces, the reality of taking a life sinking in.
He was fortunate to have experienced this at the age of four, so he had gained some level of mental resistance.
"Look for the cells!" Draco shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.
"See if there are any prisoners!" he instructed, seeing as there were only a few bandits left.
His siblings nodded, their movements more focused and efficient as they fought their way deeper into the fortress.
Dimitra and Vasileios peeled off, searching for the cells while the others continued to engage the bandits.
Clair's spear found its mark again, the force of the blow sending a bandit flying. She stared at his lifeless body, her hands trembling.
"I-I didn't mean to..." she whispered, her voice wavering.
Michalis moved with deadly precision, his daggers dancing as he dispatched one bandit after another.
But beneath his composed exterior, his eyes betrayed a deep well of emotion.
Eleni's sword sang through the air, her strikes becoming more confident as she fought.
Yet, each time she ran her blade through an enemy, a flicker of regret passed across her features.
Nikolaos roared, his hammer pulverizing a bandit's ribcage.
He stood over the body, chest heaving, his expression one of grim determination tinged with sorrow.
The battle raged on, the siblings fighting with a mix of skill and anguish.
As the last bandit fell, silence descended upon the fortress, broken only by the siblings' haggard breathing.
Dimitra and Vasileios emerged from within the encampment, their faces looking grim.
"We found where the cells are but…," Dimitra said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“What?” Draco asked, he could see traces of vomit still lingering on the side of her lips.
“You will have to see for yourself,” Dimitra replied, covering her mouth with one hand.
“I see, everyone follow me,” Draco said, his expression somber.
From his interaction with the bandit leader, he could already make assumptions on what kind of scene they were about to witness.
‘They should all see this, it will help give them some mental justification for killing the bandits,’ Draco thought.