Chapter : 4

Chapter : 4

Rudravaan walked toward the boy and Fenlor. “Hey,” he said casually, “how long are you going to keep talking? Didn’t we come here to fight?”
The boy asked rudravaan “I thought I heard someone scream…”
Rudravaan shrugged. “Ahh, nothing. Just their final struggle.”
Fenlor crossed his arms. “So, now how are we going to find their leader?”
Rudravaan replied, “There’s an old building straight ahead. They call it Paradise.”
Fenlor narrowed his eyes. “And how do you even know that?”
“I just asked one of the ones you knocked out,” Rudravaan said with a faint grin.
“Fine,” Fenlor muttered, turning to walk.

The boy and Rudravaan followed behind him. As they started walking, Rudravaan grabbed his beer bottle and took a sip.
“Hey,” the boy asked, glancing up at him, “are you really a swordsman? You didn’t even help your friend when he was fighting to protect us.”
Rudravaan smiled faintly. “Who knows?” He took another sip from his bottle as they continued down the road.

Eventually, they reached the old, crumbling building. Fenlor turned to the boy. “Stay outside.”
The boy protested, “What about him?”
Fenlor smirked. “If he can still drink that peacefully, he can handle this.”
The boy muttered under his breath, “How can he handle anything when he’s that drunk…”

Rudravaan and Fenlor stepped inside. Around thirty men lounged about—some drinking, some gambling, others lost in the haze of smoke and drugs. But one man lay sleeping apart from the rest, untouched, unapproached. Rudravaan’s eyes lingered on him. Without needing to say a word, he knew—
that was their leader.

Rudravaan glanced at Fenlor. “Be careful,” he said calmly.

Fenlor nodded, taking the advice, and continued walking forward. One of the men ahead noticed them and shouted, “Hey! Who the hell are you!?”

Fenlor smirked. “We’re here to beat the shit out of you guys,” he said, drawing his sword.

Rudravaan chuckled. “Look at this kid—he actually knows how to talk.”

The enemies, now enraged, drew their swords and surrounded them. Rudravaan didn’t bother standing. He pulled a chair over, set it in front of a small table, placed his bottle on it, and sat down, glancing at their leader who was still sleeping peacefully in the corner.

He sighed. Guess I’ll just watch for now.

Fenlor analyzed the situation quickly. They had a numbers advantage—too many to take head-on. He decided to narrow the space. Luring them toward a building staircase, he forced them to fight in tighter quarters. There, his sword moved fast and sharp. In no time, half of the enemies were down.

Realizing his tactics, the remaining men tried to surround him to make him drop his guard. But they didn’t know who they were dealing with. Fenlor—one of the strongest swordsmen around—charged right through them. He jumped over one, rolled across the floor, and stood up again.

“Hey, idiots! I’m over here!” he shouted.

Rudravaan burst out laughing, slapping the table. “Hahaha! That’s how you do it!”

Infuriated, the men attacked all at once. During the chaos, Fenlor took a hit across his side. He gritted his teeth, ripped off a piece of cloth, and wrapped it tightly to stop the bleeding. Still, he didn’t back down.

After a furious exchange, Fenlor finally defeated the last of them. He stood there, breathing heavily, sword buried in the floor for balance.

Rudravaan put down his bottle, stood up, and walked toward him.
“I thought you came here to fight their leader,” he said. “But look at you now.”

As he spoke, his expression hardened. He picked up a sword from a fallen enemy and walked toward the so-called leader—the one who had been sleeping the entire time.

“Hey,” Rudravaan said, his tone low. “How long are you going to pretend to be asleep?”

The man suddenly opened his eyes and laughed. “Oh, so you noticed. If you hadn’t woken me, I might’ve spared you. But now… you’ve gone and done it.”

Rudravaan sighed. “Don’t talk nonsense. If you’re going to fight, then fight. I’m already tired from walking all day—and I haven’t even eaten.”

The man grinned. “You can call me Rick. And you? Are you guards or something? Doesn’t matter. If your friend wasn’t already half-dead, maybe the two of you could’ve beaten me. But now? You don’t stand a chance.”

Rick drew his sword and took his stance.

Rudravaan exhaled, steadying his blade. “Fenlor,” he said quietly, “watch closely if you want to know what it takes to be strong.”

Then he whispered, “Flash Draw: No.1.”

A single sharp sound split the air.

Rick froze. Fenlor blinked, unable to follow what just happened. Rick looked down—and saw that his left arm had been severed cleanly. Blood poured as he screamed, clutching his wound.

“Hey, hey,” Rudravaan said coldly, “what are you screaming for? You knew what’d happen when you made kids do your dirty work.”

Rick roared and charged wildly.

Rudravaan sighed again. “Here we go again.”

In one clean motion, he cut Rick in half.

He placed his blade down and walked toward Fenlor, brushing blood off his clothes.

Fenlor asked, “Was he strong?”

Rudravaan shrugged. “If you weren’t exhausted, maybe there was a slim chance you could’ve won.”

They both sat down on nearby chairs. Rudravaan handed him his bottle. “Drink.”

Fenlor took a sip and grimaced. “How the hell do you drink this? It tastes like crap.”

Rudravaan smirked. “You wanna get beaten?”

They both chuckled and left the building.

Outside, the boy ran up to them, eyes wide with worry. “What happened? Did you win?”

Fenlor smiled tiredly, closed his eyes, and lifted the boy. “Yeah—we won, you little brat.”

The boy burst into tears of joy. Rudravaan stood behind them, quietly smiling.