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The Destiny of the Blind Swordman: A Tale of Magic

The Destiny of the Blind Swordsman: A Tale of Magic and Blades follows the story of a boy born blind, rejected by his family, and sold into slavery. He must navigate a world of clandestine combat, wielding both magic and swords, as he fights for survival and searches for his true destiny. Will his blindness be a hindrance or a hidden strength in his journey?

ErickVazquez17 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
53 Chs

The Clock is Tickin

The group was racing against time. With every second that passed, the pressure mounted. Khalid led the charge, his face set in a grim determination. "We can't waste time looking for Evelyn's group," he said, his voice firm. "We need to move forward and cross the river. They can take care of themselves."

The others nodded, understanding the urgency. In the distance, they could see the river, its waters rushing rapidly under the fading light. Beyond the river, far on the other side, stood a small shack—their destination. But the river posed a new challenge, one that could easily spell disaster if they weren't careful.

The current was strong, the water icy cold. "We need to find a way across without getting swept away," Khalid said, scanning the area for a possible crossing point. The group moved quickly, searching for any sign of a narrow passage or shallow waters.

One of the children spotted a cluster of rocks jutting out from the riverbank, creating a makeshift bridge. "Over here!" he called out, pointing to the rocks. "We can use these to get across!"

Khalid approached the edge of the river, eyeing the rocks with caution. The gap between each was significant, and the slick, wet surface made it treacherous. "We'll go one at a time," Khalid ordered. "Be careful. One wrong step, and the current will take you."

The first child stepped onto the rocks, moving cautiously from one to the next. The others watched with bated breath as he made his way across, finally reaching the other side safely. "Come on!" Khalid urged the rest, waving them forward.

One by one, the children made their way across the rocks. The river roared beneath them, its icy waters lapping at their feet as they carefully balanced on the slippery stones. The tension was palpable, each step a gamble against the raging current.

Finally, only Khalid and Kenshin remained on the riverbank. "You go first," Khalid said, motioning for Kenshin to cross. Kenshin hesitated, feeling the unease in his gut. But time was against them, and he knew they had no choice.

Kenshin stepped onto the first rock, feeling the cold, wet surface under his feet. His heart pounded in his chest as he moved cautiously from one stone to the next. The river's roar seemed to grow louder, the current threatening to pull him under with every step.

As Kenshin reached the middle of the river, he suddenly lost his footing on a particularly slick rock. His arms flailed as he tried to regain his balance, but it was too late. The current grabbed hold of him, dragging him towards the edge of the rocks.

"Kenshin!" Khalid shouted, his voice filled with alarm. Without thinking, Khalid leapt onto the rocks, reaching out to grab Kenshin's arm just as he was about to be swept away. With a tremendous effort, Khalid pulled Kenshin back onto the rocks, steadying him.

"Careful!" Khalid warned, his voice stern but laced with concern. "You can't afford to slip."

Kenshin nodded, his breath shaky from the close call. Together, they made their way across the remaining rocks, finally reaching the other side of the river. The group breathed a collective sigh of relief, though their ordeal was far from over.

Khalid glanced back at the river, the current still rushing violently beneath them. "No turning back now," he said, his tone resolute. "We keep moving. We can't afford to lose any more time."

Inside the dimly lit shack, Frozenfang stood with a pocket watch in hand, flanked by two soldiers—the old man who had trained Kenshin and the muscular figure who had honed Khalid's combat skills. Frozenfang's eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and cold indifference as he glanced at the group that had just arrived.

"Nice timing," he remarked, his voice a cold drawl. "Twenty minutes early. But…" His gaze swept over the group, noticing the missing members. "It appears not all of you have arrived. A pity—I had high expectations for that girl. But let's wait. We never know."

Khalid clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing with concern. "We can't just stand here. We need to go look for Evelyn and the others," he declared, taking a step toward the door.

Frozenfang's eyes bore into him, the chilling intensity of his gaze stopping Khalid in his tracks. The silent message was clear: *If you leave, you're dead.* Khalid hesitated, his heart pounding, but he knew better than to defy Frozenfang's unspoken command. Reluctantly, he stayed, frustration and worry gnawing at him.

Minutes passed in tense silence until the door creaked open, and Evelyn's group staggered inside. They were exhausted, their clothes torn and bodies battered. Some were nursing fresh wounds, hastily bandaged, while others leaned on each other for support. Despite their state, they had made it.

Frozenfang watched them with a faint smirk. "Well, well. It seems you're not entirely useless." But his smile faded when he noticed two members of Evelyn's group missing.

Time ticked on, and just as the final seconds slipped away, the door burst open again. One of the missing kids rushed in, panting and sweating. "I made it!" he cried out, his voice filled with desperate relief.

Frozenfang's expression darkened with disapproval. Without a word, he formed a shard of ice in his hand and flicked it toward the boy. The shard struck with brutal precision, bursting through the boy's chest and spraying blood across the floor. The boy collapsed, dead before he hit the ground.

"You arrived two minutes late," Frozenfang said coldly. "Clean this up, and let's leave. We don't want to be late." The cold indifference in his voice sent a shiver down everyone's spine.