Chapter 97: Lyma Family Delegate

Fey and Benard made their way into the bandit hideout, their steps silent, their senses alert.

The air was stale and heavy with dust, carrying the foul stench of unwashed bodies and spoiled food. It was a mess of a place, the disorder and filth a clear reflection of the bandits' lifestyle.

As they proceeded further into the den, they couldn't help but exchange glances, both of them thinking of the young man they had left outside – Luke.

The sheer power he had demonstrated was beyond anything they had anticipated.

"I knew the boy was strong," Benard began, his voice low to avoid attracting attention. "But that... that was something else."

Fey nodded, her usually bright eyes serious. "I agree. He may be young, but his strength... it's terrifying. I didn't think he had it in him."

Their conversation was cut short as they encountered the first batch of bandits.

"W-what are you doing here?!"

"B-boss… did they slip past the Boss?"

"What does that matter? W-we just have to stop them! H-how hard could it be?"

"Boss will have our heads if we don't do something…"

Unfortunately for them, they didn't yet realize their Boss was down for the count.

The group stood in their path, ugly grins on their faces, clearly frightened of the duo.

It was a grave mistake.

Fey, agile and swift, moved like a tempest, her short dagger cutting through the air, silencing the bandits before they could even draw their weapons.

Benard, his movements more measured but no less deadly, handled the rest with the practiced ease of a seasoned warrior.

They didn't even need to take the bunch seriously.

The duo moved on, weaving their way through the labyrinth of crude rooms and corridors, felling any resistance with grim efficiency.

Eventually, after mere minutes that felt like hours, they found her– the delegate of the Lyma Family.

She was tied up, completely unconscious, but alive.

'I-is that…?!'

Benard noticed the smell of ammonia that tainted the room, and Fey could see the lower region of their objective's garment soaked with what could only be one thing.

'L-let's not talk about it…' Both of them looked at each other and agreed on that instantly.

Freeing her quickly, they started to make their way out of the hideout, avoiding the part of the delegate's cloth that reeked of something improper.

This time, however, Benard and Fey were met with a more formidable force.

The leftover hideout bandits had rallied, their numbers greater, their resolve stronger.

But they were still just bandits, and they were facing the Guildmaster of Terance and a high-ranking Adventurer.

Compared to Fenrir, or the benefactor behind them… these were nothing more than fodder.

"Let's end this quickly…" Energy gathered around the best Ranger in Terance as she summoned a bow and a quiver full of arrows behind her.

"Agreed." Benard grinned, his body now shimmering with azure light.

Fey let loose her conjured arrows, each one finding its mark with deadly precision.

~WHISH!~

Her expression remained serene, the hum of her mystical bowstrings the only hint of her deadly intent.

Beside her, Benard was a force of nature.

His fists were a blur as he applied his Martial Art Technique [Iron-Blood Monk], his movements as fluid as they were powerful.

Each punch landed with a thunderous impact, throwing bandits off their feet.

~BOOOM!~

The air rang with the clash of weapons and the cries of the defeated. Fey and Benard, despite the odds, remained unyielding.

Their synergy was flawless, a dance of destruction against the wave of bandits.

In the end, they stood amidst a room filled with defeated bandits, their faces barely showing any signs of exhaustion.

"After watching Luke fight, I lost all my confidence. I felt I was weak." Benard smirked, watching all the foes he had defeated as they remained unconscious on the ground.

"Turns out I'm not weak at all. That kid is just too strong."

Fey could only smile and nod in agreement.

They were the elite of Terance, and many would consider them top ranks in the Adventuring business.

… They were strong in their own way.

******

The setting sun streamed through the leaves overhead, casting dappled shadows on the ground as Benard and Fey emerged from the bandit's hideout.

Their bodies were tense with adrenaline, a testament to the intense battle they had just emerged from.

Their eyes fell on the figure waiting patiently nearby, instantly recognizing the slim silhouette.

"Luke!" Benard exclaimed, his voice laced with surprise. "You're back already?"

Mikey, still using the alias Luke, merely shrugged in response. His youthful face was inscrutable in the dim light.

"Didn't have to go too far."

Fey tilted her head, her sharp eyes appraising him. "Did you manage to catch the benefactor of the bandits?"

A dry laugh escaped Luke, his gaze flitting to them. "Oh, I caught him alright," he replied, the corners of his lips twitching into a wry grin.

"But he struggled so much that I had to kill him." Sёarᴄh the nôvelFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Benard nodded, his brow furrowing in understanding. "Can't be helped then. It's a kill-or-be-killed world they live in. He had it coming anyway."

"But," Fey began, her voice betraying her curiosity, "where's the body?"

Luke's grin broadened at her inquiry. "You don't trust me?"

Instantly, a strong apprehension washed over the two of them. Sweat seeped from beneath their skins.

Benard swiftly held up a hand, shaking his head quickly. "No, no, it's not that," he assured him.

"Just curious, is all."

At this, Luke chuckled lightly, the sound echoing softly in the quiet evening.

"Well, I'm afraid there's nothing left to satisfy your curiosity. I destroyed everything."

Fey and Benard shared a glance, gulping in unison. "We understand," Fey murmured, her voice barely audible.

They gripped the Lyma Family Delegate tighter.

Explore more stories with m,v l'e-NovelFire.net

As the two turned to leave, they each stole a final glance at the young man who had proven to be a formidable ally.

And then they stared at each other.

The thought lingered in their minds, a silent promise echoing between them:

'We must never make an enemy out of Luke!'

*

*

*

[A/N]

Welp… that's the end for Andrew.

Thanks for reading.

Cheers!