A Mother's Love (2)

"You fuc— DIE!" The men were enraged at Ferrah. They lunged at her all at once, wanting to tear her apart.

Seeing the men charge all at once, Ferrah kept her calm disposition. She threw out the needle in her hand to one of them. The needle lodged itself deep in the man's head, giving him a similar outcome to the first one who died.

One of the men was faster than the rest and reached Ferrah first. He swung out and stabbed his dagger in a combination of movements that became habits. Ferrah calmly dodged each one of them, intentionally making each strike narrowly miss.

"Rather crude. You're embarrassing yourself."

When the man struck with a downward thrust, Ferrah moved in action. She extended her arm upwards and her hand caught the man's arm. She spun her arm in a forceful motion and the man was disarmed of his dagger.

Ferrah didn't stop there and continued her attack. Her leg struck out in a high kick that hit the man's head, sending him reeling to the direction of his dagger that was now on the ground a short distance away.

At that moment, Ferrah was already closely surrounded by the other men. Before they could strike her, Ferrah jumped high in the air and landed away from the encirclement with a graceful arc in the air.

The men were relentless and charged at her still. Ferrah's red eyes glowed a menacing glint as a feral grin formed on her face. She rushed towards the men charging at her with a speed that none of them can match.

Ferrah quickly dispatched each of them using close quarters combat. The men fell down one by one by the furious strikes of Ferrah's fists and legs.

A few moments was all it took for Ferrah to deal with the group. The men laid down on the ground either unconscious or in pain.

The only one left standing was the man who reached Ferrah first. His dagger was back in his hand, but he still shivered in fright at the unarmed woman in front of him.

"AAAAAAAA!!!"

The man screamed out as he charged Ferrah with his dagger raised up in the air. He stabbed downwards and Ferrah easily disarmed him once again. This time, she clutched the dagger in her hand.

"Watch closely."

Ferrah said as she stood in an orthodox fighting stance. The dagger was in her right hand in a backhand grip.

Ferrah jabbed with her left hand. She threw in a few hooks here and there to take advantage of her opponent's focus on the dagger.

When Ferrah saw openings for a killing strike with the dagger, she pounced on the opportunities. However, she stopped short with the dagger strikes to let the man feel the cold touch of the deadly blade.

Ferrah would retract her dagger and continue the fight. She toyed with her opponent, bringing him close to certain death only to let him escape every time. The man slowly turned into a sobbing mess as the one sided game went on.

When Ferrah made the man feel that he could have already died fifty times in their fight, her opponent knelt down in front of her. His face was a sobbing mess from the constant high tension Ferrah made him feel.

"J- just kill me… I- I know I'm dead. Please, I don't want to fight anymore!"

The man screamed in between disgusting sobs. Ferrah obliged and killed the man with his own dagger.

The dagger stabbed through the top of the man's head so there was no exit wound. The man fell down on his back, and died as an embarrassing sobbing mess.

Ferrah turned around to return her attention to the leader of the group. He was the only one who stood still.

The man who was the eldest of his group knew his fate the moment Ferrah killed one of his subordinates without him even seeing how.

Ferrah calmly walked to him. Her hands blurred as she walked, throwing needles to the men she dispatched with her fists. The needles pierced through their heads, giving them a relatively painless death.

The leader watched the woman in front of him casually slaughter his men one by one as she walked closer to him. The clean and calm disposition of the woman who looked like an average housewife betrays her ferocity in battle.

The leader witnessed this woman fight. She mowed down his men and all he could see was a white blur and the glow of her red eyes.

If not for the fact that she was killing his men, the leader would've been mesmerized by her deadly dance that was lit up by the silver moonlight.

Ferrah stopped in front of the leader when she killed the last of his men. The two stood there in grim silence as the leader waited for Ferrah to do something.

"...So, who's this 'Master Varnon' you spoke of?"

The man could only groan in response. He knew that this woman will get the information she wanted in one way or another. He opted to make it easier for him.

"He's the richest merchant in Nuzta. You'll know where he is. He has this gaudy golden statue of himself on his lawn."

"Hmmm… Alright then. You can go."

"...What?" The man was baffled by what Ferrah said.

"You heard me. Go now, before I change my mind."

"...Are you really letting me go?" The man asked. He didn't want to die like a fool, believing that his enemy actually let him go.

"Not really. It's been five years since I last killed a man. I feel incredibly rusty. I'm just letting you run to be my target practice." Ferrah answered honestly with a grin.

The man could only grit his teeth and shame. He knew there was nothing he could do against this woman. The best bet he can have is to stay alive and escape with the chance she gave him.

With no further hesitation, the man ran away in the direction of Nuzta. Ferrah did nothing and just closed her eyes. She stood still for a few minutes before opening her eyes that were still glowing red. She then turned her head to the direction where the man ran.

A red circle formed in one of her hands. The circle turned into a chakram. Ferrah raised the weapon in her hand in preparation to throw it. A moment later, she threw the chakram to the air, aiming for something far away.

The leader of the group Ferrah slaughtered was currently hiding in the line of trees, hoping to turn the trunks into his cover. Since Ferrah said he will be her target practice, the man expected to be chased by projectiles. He waited for minutes, only to find nothing thrown his way.

'Did she bluff?... Did she only say that to make me run?'

Thoughts circled in his head until he saw a light in the distance. It was most likely the guards patrolling the streets outside the town.

The man felt hope when he saw that light. He decided to step out of the tree line and approach the light.

Unknown to the man, Ferrah had her eyes on him at this moment. As the man ran towards the light in the distance, the chakram Ferrah threw went closer and closer to its intended target.

All of a sudden, the man felt his world spin. His vision fell to the ground as he tried to figure out what happened to him. His vision went darker and darker until eventually… he was no more.

Ferrah arrived at the location of where the man fell seconds after. She saw his head on the ground a short distance away from the rest of his body.

Ferrah reached a hand out and the chakram went flying back to her hand. She shook off the blood on her weapon before it disappeared in a red light that seemed to have streamed back in the pores of her palm.

Ferrah walked to the head of the man she decapitated from a distance away and picked it up to inspect it. She held the head by its hair as she focused her gaze on the cut she made.

"Tch. Off the center. I really am rusty."

Ferrah felt the glare of the light the man was chasing come closer to her position. Acting quickly, she picked up the body along with the head and threw it far away into the depths of the forest.

Ferrah then reached her hand out to the ground. The blood that spilled from the man's head and body bubbled and gathered together by her hand.

The blood collected and slowly took form. The collected blood turned into a small throwing knife. Ferrah clutched it in her hand before disappearing from where she stood.

The night was calm and silent. Gentle yet ominous blew as an enraged mother was on the prowl to hunt down an annoying insect.