Chapter 83: Night of Judgment

The Blackwood Mountain Pass had descended into a nightmare of bloodshed and chaos. Beneath the eerie violet glow of the twin moons, Arthur advanced through the remaining members of the Red-Sash Syndicate, his movements cold, precise, and utterly merciless.

He neither rushed nor hesitated. With every measured step, Arthur closed in on his next target, and every strike left another bandit crumpled on the ground. His movements were precise and economical, devoid of unnecessary flourishes or wasted effort.

Not a trace of anger crossed his face. He advanced with the cold, relentless efficiency of a killing machine, as though destroying anything that stood in his path was the sole purpose of his existence.

Faced with the certainty of death, the surviving bandits finally abandoned all thoughts of escape. Desperation gave way to a last, frenzied attempt at survival. They turned on Arthur and unleashed their strongest martial techniques, pouring every ounce of strength into their attacks.

Blades flashed through the darkness as the bandits unleashed their strongest attacks. Waves of low-grade mortal Spirit surged from their weapons, converging into a deadly barrage of cutting energy that swept toward Arthur from every direction. Beneath the eerie violet glow of the twin moons, steel glinted and Spirit roared through the mountain pass. The combined assault carried enough force to tear an ordinary warrior to shreds.

Arthur didn’t even flinch.

The attacks struck his chest, arms, and face with a succession of sharp, metallic impacts. Yet, instead of piercing his flesh, the blades glanced off his body, while the surging Spirit shattered against his skin and scattered into the air.

Not a single drop of blood fell.

There were no torn wounds, no scorched flesh, and not even a scratch to mark the assault. His density-tempered body, reinforced by synthetic enhancements, had rendered the bandits’ desperate techniques completely ineffective.

For a brief moment, the surviving members of the Red-Sash Syndicate could only stare.

They had thrown everything they possessed at him.

And Arthur had barely noticed.

The bandits’ expressions shifted from furious disbelief to sheer terror.

“Again! Hit him again!” one of them screamed, gripping his saber with both hands and throwing his entire weight into a desperate thrust.

The others followed. One attack became two, then three, until the mountain pass was filled with the frantic clash of steel and surging Spirit.

None of it worked.

Blades bent against Arthur’s body. Others shattered on impact, sending broken fragments spinning through the air. Their strongest martial techniques barely slowed him down, let alone inflicted any damage.

And Arthur kept walking.

His pace never changed. He didn’t bother dodging or raising his arms to defend himself. The bandits’ desperate attacks washed over him like a passing breeze, stirring the heavy fabric of his cloak without leaving so much as a scratch behind.

Then the truth finally sank in.

They weren’t facing an exceptionally powerful frontier warrior. He wasn’t some mutated body-refiner from a rival clan, either. Those were opponents they could at least understand, enemies whose strength could be measured and whose weaknesses might be exploited.

Arthur was something else entirely.

He was a force they had no way to comprehend, let alone overcome. Everything they had learned about martial arts, every limit they believed the human body possessed, meant nothing in front of him.

At the head of the formation, Vane watched his remaining men fall one after another, their resistance crumbling as effortlessly as toys beneath a hammer.

His fingers tightened around the leather reins until his knuckles turned white. The confidence that had carried him through countless raids was gone, replaced by a fear he could no longer hide.

Slowly, his panicked gaze shifted toward the narrow mountain trail behind him.

The path wound upward between the jagged rocks, leading toward the safety of the upper ridges.

For the first time that night, Vane considered abandoning his men and running for his life.

Escape.

That was the only thought left in Vane’s mind.

Without sparing a glance at his remaining men, he yanked hard on the reins and forced his heavy stallion into a sharp turn. The horse stumbled for a moment, its hooves scraping against the rocky ground, before Vane drove his iron heels into its flanks.

“Move! Run, you worthless beast!” he roared.

The terrified stallion let out a shrill whinny and surged forward. Its powerful legs pounded against the narrow mountain trail as it raced toward the upper ridges, carrying its master away from the nightmare unfolding behind them.

Arthur stopped walking.

His crimson-tinged eyes followed Vane’s retreating figure as it disappeared into the thick, greasy fog. He offered no warning, shouted no threat, and made no effort to call the fleeing bandit back.

He simply stepped forward.

CRACK!

The instant Arthur’s heavy boot struck the uneven ground, fractures spread through the stone beneath his feet like a spiderweb. The rocky surface buckled under the sudden impact, and several sharp cracks echoed through the mountain pass.

The force of that single step traveled straight into the bedrock, splintering the stone beneath him.

Then the ground trembled.

Then Arthur moved.

His massive frame shot forward with terrifying acceleration. The air around him burst with a deafening boom, the shockwave thundering through the ravine and sending the thick fog spiraling in every direction. In the blink of an eye, the distance between him and the fleeing stallion disappeared.

Vane barely had time to react.

His horse suddenly stiffened, its ears flattening against its skull as its yellow-rimmed eyes widened in sheer terror. The animal sensed something monstrous closing in behind it, something its instincts screamed it could never outrun.

Before it could veer off the trail, a towering figure emerged from the mist directly in its path.

Arthur stood motionless in the middle of the narrow mountain trail, blocking the way forward.

The stallion panicked. Its hooves scraped violently against the rocky ground as it tried to brake, its powerful hind legs digging into the earth while its body pitched backward against the momentum.

It was too late.

Arthur casually raised one massive hand and seized the charging horse by its muzzle.

THUD!

The stallion came to an abrupt halt.

Its powerful body lurched forward, muscles straining as it struggled to overcome the momentum of its charge. Yet Arthur didn’t budge. He stood as firmly as a mountain, his arm barely shifting beneath the tremendous force crashing against him.

The impact that should have sent an ordinary man tumbling backward had failed to move him even an inch.

Arthur didn’t move. Not even an inch. His boots remained firmly planted on the dirt road, as though they had become part of the mountain itself.

With a casual motion of his arm, he forced the stallion backward.

The horse let out a piercing scream as its front legs buckled beneath it. Its massive body crashed onto the rocky ground, sending dust and loose stones flying in every direction.

The sudden stop proved disastrous for Vane.

Thrown forward out of the saddle, he sailed over the horse’s head before slamming into the dirt with a sickening thud. His body bounced once, then tumbled helplessly across the road. He rolled several times before finally coming to a stop beside a cluster of jagged boulders.

For a moment, he could only lie there, gasping in pain.

Then instinct took over.

Vane wriggled backwards on his hands and heels, and scraped himself along the dirt, trying to put as much distance between himself and the shadowy giant pursuing him. Gone was the arrogance Vane wore so proudly a moment ago. The power Vane had wielded as the head of the Red-Sash Syndicate meant nothing in the face of this unknown foe.

His costly, finely-worked jagged saber clattered to the stones.

‘W-Wait!’ he gasped

The word came out as a frightened squeak, nothing like the imperious commands Vane used to issue to lesser men.

He looked up.

The colossal shape loomed over him, blocking out the moonlight. Vane’s normally self-assured face was ashen and his eyes were wide and unblinking. It was the hunted look of a man who, for the very first time in his life, found himself in the position of the weak.

And he prayed to God that this leviathan of a man would have as much mercy on him as he had shown so many others in his time as head of the Red-Sash Syndicate.

“Please…” Vane stammered, scrambling backward until his back struck the rock wall. He raised both hands in a desperate plea for mercy, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.

“I surrender! Take the gold, take the cargo, take everything we’ve stolen! Just… please, let me live!”

Arthur peered down at him, saying nothing.

A moment ago Vane was the terror of the trade roads, the scourge of every village from the valley to the mountains. He had given no thought to sparing anyone, even when the poor devils he left for dead begged him to. Now there was mercy in his heart, but not enough to spare Vane.

No matter what mercy might have been in his heart, it was too late for Vane.

His boot came up slowly, deliberately.

Vane’s face went blank. His lips moved, but no sound came out. He looked up at the slowly falling shadow and his breath caught in his throat.

“Please—!”

THUOM!

The dull, hopeless thud reverberated through the Blackwood Mountain Pass, producing a resonant, almost judicial effect in the confined space between the cliff walls.

Vane’s plea of mercy died on the spot.

Arthur took a step back and released a long breath. He did not look disappointed, nor relieved, nor even tired. As far as Arthur was concerned, this was a closed case.

He turned his attention to the moonlit road.

The band of the Red-Sash Syndicate was no more. The brigands who for the past couple of years haunted these mountain passes in broad daylight were dead, killed by an old man and a boy with a rusty dagger. No survivors, and from now on, no more troubles in the village for this particular band of brigands.

Garris and the village guards were already standing in stunned silence when Arthur took his time to finish wiping the blood from his dagger on the nearest bandit’s cloak.

Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, waiting…

Arthur stood in the moonlight, the two moons casting an eerie, almost violet hue on the scene. His silhouette loomed large over the motionless bandits on the road.

They knew better than anyone what it meant to cross the Red-Sash Syndicate. They had witnessed the bandits in action before, seen their strength, their skill, and the unnerving fearlessness with which they wielded their weapons. Even when empowered by Spirit, however, they were still human. And no matter how formidable an ordinary man might be, he could hardly match a trained martial artist in combat. Most of the village guards would have struggled to survive an encounter with even a common mercenary, let alone the ruthless members of the Red-Sash Syndicate.

But this was not the work of any common mercenary.

He moved as if he had seen every foe that moved and had fought them all. He stood his ground, and the bandits died like stunned sheep. Not even a tenth of them had managed to land a proper hit on Arthur, and the few that did were thrown down and trampled underfoot.

Garris and the guards slowly realized that they were looking at something that was not meant to be. Perhaps, if the village elder had not called them out, if the girl had not run up the hill, things would have been different. Perhaps, if there were more of them, maybe they would have stood a chance.

But the sight of Arthur, the silent giant in the moonlight, was more than these poor villagers could comprehend. And so, they stood as if transfixed to the spot, watching the man who seemed to be made of the very night itself, walk down the road to meet his fate.

Two In One Chapter

I was dealing with some personal issues, so I couldn’t write the School Trial arc as well as I wanted to. Thankfully, things have settled down now, and I’ll do my best to improve the writing going forward. Thanks for your patience and support!