Chapter 145 Ellis's Redemption [part 2]
THUD!
Gunther landed powerfully, his sturdy legs causing the earth to tremble slightly beneath his commanding presence.
Without a shred of gentleness, he carelessly discarded Ellis from his shoulders, the poor boy's back smashing against the unyielding ground.
Ellis curled in on himself, writhing in the excruciating, bone-deep ache that instantly radiated through his entire being.
"Why the fuck do you keep shouting? Are you mad?" Gunther snarled, his grip like iron as he seized Ellis by the throat and slammed him against the wall, pinning him there.
"I ask. Are you mad? Answer me! ARE YOU MAD?!!"
"No! No, sir!!" Ellis's voice quavered, icy tendrils of fear freezing his blood, his face drained of color.
'I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm so dead!! Damnit! I regret the day I met him!!'
It had been a day like any other, survival was an ever-increasing struggle around the stronghold.
True, they had enough to fill their bellies, sustained by the rations of meat that parties brought back from their hunts and shared.
But if a man remained complacent because he had food in his mouth, such a man was bound for damnation.
In the end, being comfortable was an insidious assassin, while confronting one's doom head-on was a fair and honorable executioner.
Both, ultimately, would kill you – you'd either die a brave soldier or perish a foolish man.
Ellis didn't want to die a foolish man.
He hailed from a minor baronet family, and as the firstborn child of his parents, he had worked his ass off to become the pride of the family.
Even though they were nobles, they were still regarded as commoners, seen as a weak set of pedigreed dilettantes.
When they attended social gatherings, they were looked on as stains and uncouth blemishes.
Cursed and talked down upon.
Ellis yearned for them to eat their words, for them to kneel before his father and mother one day.
He longed to elevate his family's standing by any means necessary.
Hopefully, he'd graduate from the academy and become a national knight.
If he earned enough merit, he could be granted the noble rank of a baron, or even a viscount.
It was why he had worked his ass off and managed to pass the academy's second-chance exam for those who had failed once before.
He had strived so hard to be here.
What had befallen them was unfortunate. But now that everyone was moving on, he wasn't about to live in complacency because he possessed a combat-useless talent.
Ellis craved to be better... he needed to be better.
It was why, when that man came with his offer, Ellis saw it as a tremendous opportunity.
Although he couldn't go into battle, he would still be able to gain soul cores and gradually grow stronger too.
He'd finally reach the Nomad rank and, hopefully, receive the title of a Master one day!
But it had been a trap. A lie.
The soul cores had lasted only about a month, and after that, they were being used and bullied.
These hooligans would force mundane merchandise upon them and demand they sell them for soulbound items, beating the shit out of them until they submitted everything they had acquired.
And that man had never shown his face again.
A few had tried to report the injustice, but the matter never saw the light of day.
No one cared.
This was a dog-eat-dog street. It was every man for himself.
The party leaders were already preoccupied enough with ensuring the survival of the masses; it was only expected that they wouldn't bother themselves with trivial matters like this.
There was no way out for them.
"Are you deaf?!!" Gunther's voice, previously muffled, grew clearer as Ellis's vision slowly returned.
"Answer me! Why did you leave your merchandise? Where are the items you got last week? You didn't submit them?!!"
Ellis stared at Gunther's tanned face with a deadpan expression, blood streaming down a corner of his mouth.
'The items last week? Oh, that...'
Perhaps it was because his back ached so fiercely, or because he was so utterly consumed by fear that he couldn't think coherently.
Nothing suddenly seemed to matter anymore.
These guys were probably going to make him wish he was dead.
Rather than beg with tears, he would simply resign himself to his fate...
'What does it matter? They'll do what they want to me anyway.'
"Are you deaf?!" Gunther shouted once more, pulling Ellis back and slamming his back against the wall again.
The others watched in silence, arms folded.
The robust boy fidgeted, trying to steal glances at Ellis's face.
Ellis's eyes shifted toward him, and immediately the boy looked away, his face beaded with perspiration.
'That bastard...' Ellis then refocused his gaze on Gunther as the man shouted again.
"I said, where are the items?!"
Ellis's lips twisted into a nasty grin, his chin raised in a condescending gaze aimed squarely at Gunther.
"Ah, that... I exchanged them for cores and got a little bit stronger."
"Uh?"
Not just Gunther, but every single being present in the backyard was shocked into stunned silence.
Since these guys were the little gang that 'he' had assembled to serve as his hands in this underhanded business dealings, no one dared disrespect them.
Besides, they were members of his party; Gunther, in fact, was a team leader himself.
Which meant that he was stronger than your average drifter around here. Probably ten times stronger than Ellis.
And yet...
Gunther clenched his teeth visibly, his lips spreading into a wide, predatory grin.
"You must have a death wish... don't worry, I'll grant it to you." He clenched his hand so tightly that his veins swam in visible paths beneath the skin.
Then he pulled back his arm, the very air seeming to seize as Gunther readied a mighty blow.
Ellis frowned, 'If I will die, I will die a strong man... not a foolish man,' was the thought that echoed through his mind as Gunther's punch shot towards him.
The blow folded into Ellis's face, smacking his head against the wall.
He let out a guttural groan and collapsed to the ground, his ruined visage showered in cascades of blood pouring from his nose and mouth.
Gunther looked down at him with contempt.
"You can dare to speak again now, idiot. Fool!"
The other two lackeys behind Gunther guffawed at Ellis's prone form.
"Guy, I thought he was even going to put up some fight... what the hell?"
"Weak-ass bro doesn't even know where to stick his ass..."
Suddenly, the backyard plunged into an unsettling darkness... an eerie quiet descending upon them all.
Everything had overturned in an instant, their hair rising as chills raced down their spines.
Something was wrong.
Gunther looked around, his gaze falling upon his trembling legs.
'What? What is wrong with me? Why am I being like this...'
He moved a hand to wipe his brow.
'I'm sweating? What's making me sweat...' He turned to look at Ellis, who was writhing silently in pain. 'Surely, it can't be this fool.'
That was when he noticed it. His brows furrowed deeply.
A circular shadow was situated between Ellis and him.
'What... has this always been there before?'
Gunther stared keenly into the shadow. Suddenly, four flaming eyes ignited within its depths.
In that instant, every nerve in his body screamed only one primal command:
RUN.