Merchants

A few days later, they heard the sharp sounds of blades clashing ahead of them.

Grimm's men moved to the scene, staying in the cover of the woods and found the source of the commotion.

Two groups were fighting to the death.

There were a trade caravan with merchants was being fiercely defended by their bodyguards, while their attackers, a group of bandits had set a cunning trap.

These merchants had been ambushed in a well thought out trap, and despite having initially outnumbered the bandits, several of the caravan's guards lay dead, their bodies strewn across the snow, arrows protruding from their lifeless forms.

'I swear to God, I never want to see another arrow in my life ever again...'

[A/N: arrow-kun appears to have traumatized him.]

Arrows were scattered on the ground and embedded in several of the guards who were already dead.

The remaining bodyguards, a mere handful now, were clearly overwhelmed. Some were terribly injured, either bleeding from sword cuts or pierced by arrows.

They were clearly losing the battle and were soon about to be completely wiped out.

Still, they fought. Despite the hopelessness of the situation, they fought, desperately trying to cling to their lives.

"Shouldn't we go help them?!" Sol exclaimed, his voice urgent.

Tamak just snorted, dismissing the idea. "And what good would that do us? Better to wait until their guards are all dead. Then they'll be more grateful for our help and give us more leeway."

Sol was furious at Tamak's cold indifference.

This wasn't just a game; it was human lives they were toying with!

From the midst of the bandits, a cruel voice taunted, "Don't worry, sweetheart. Just you wait. We're gonna have our sweet fun with you soon."

The words echoed through the clearing, sending a surge of fury through Sol.

The memory of Rona's torn clothes and lifeless body flashed in his mind.Without realizing it, Sol began to move forward, his intent clear in his eyes.

But Tamak's hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt, yanking him back.

"Hold your horses, boy. What the hell do you think you're doing?! I didn't know you to be this stupid. Stay back unless we give you an order! Do I make myself clear?!"

Sol clenched his teeth and nodded his head.

The bandits' lecherous gazes were fixed on the woman among the caravan members, their intentions evident in their hungry stares.

All the bodyguards had now been killed and they were about to do away with the merchants too.

Grimm gave a signal with his hand to Tamak and rushed forward on his black steed. Tamak followed on his horse and rushed forward.

The rest of the mercenaries emerged from the woods casually, their weapons still sheathed, their demeanor nonchalant.

"Aren't you gonna help them?!" Sol shouted at his comrades, watching their lackadaisical approach.

There were about thirteen bandits, and Grimm's men were still outnumbered, but their intervention could even the odds.

Sol already knew Grimm was stronger than most men, he would at least be able to take three people on his own and Tamak his second-in-command would also be strong in his own right, so if they all went in together they ought to be strong enough to defeat the men with relative ease.

"Shut up you brat!" Isla yelled at him. "Those two are more than enough on their own."

The bandits turned around surprised by the incoming attackers.

The bandits, startled by the sudden appearance of new attackers, turned their attention to Grimm and Tamak.

Grimm drew his great sword from his back with a fluid motion as he charged at the archers positioned away from where the main fight had occured.

With terrifying efficiency, he cleaved through the nearest archer, splitting him in two before he could even react. The man's innards spilled onto the snow.

Sol looked away, unable to watch the brutal display.

Grimm moved methodically, dispatching the next archer with equal ease. Tamak followed closely, cutting down bandits as they approached the caravan.

They cut through the bandits like knife through butter, turning them into nothing but a pile of unrecognisable bone and flesh.

It didn't even look like they were trying!

"Please, have mercy!" One of the two remaining bandits begged, his voice quavering as he dropped his weapon, his fear evident as he soiled himself.

Grimm showed no mercy.

With a single, brutal downward swing of his greatsword, he split the bandit's head and upper body in half, the blade slicing through thick metal armor, bone and muscle with effortless precision. The scene was horrific—Grimm's sword cut through him like an axe through a log of wood.

'Fuck!'

Sol who found himself looking again winced inwardly at the gruesome sight and swallowed the bitter liquid that had appeared in his mouth.

He couldn't believe what he had just seen. Was Grimm even human? Was it that easy for people to be spliced apart like a piece of birthday cake?

'Monster! He's a freaking monster!'

Tamak soon severed the head of the last bandit with such force, it was sent flying through the air.

The head flew several meters across the air, plopped on the snowy ground and rolled across the floor stopping at Isla's feet.

Sol who was right beside Isla watched in horror as it landed next to Isla's feet. The head, still twitching with life, eventually came to a stop, its eyes dimming as life faded away.

The sight chilled Sol to his core.

On the other hand, Isla looked at the head with a mix of wry amusement and disdain, before eventually snorting and kicking it away.

"Respect the dead." Sol said.

"The dead ain't complaining," Isla retorted, snorting once again. "Stop clinging to me like a lost puppy and get lost!"

Sol ignored Isla and turned his sight back to Grimm and Tamak.

Grimm had killed eight men all on his own and Tamak five of them, how was that even possible?! Just how strong were they?

Once again, Sol had underestimated the strength of the mercenary leader.

After the last bandit had died, the merchants came out of their state of fear and walked towards Grimm.

Their leader in front was an elderly man with a head full of grey hair and a long beard. Further describe his appearance including the face that he looked like a well to do merchant.

After the bandits were dealt with, the remaining merchants, emerging from their state of terror, approached Grimm.

Their leader, an elderly man with a distinguished appearance, stepped forward. His head was crowned with a mane of grey hair and a long, well-groomed beard. He looked every bit the well-to-do merchant, his clothing rich but practical, tailored for a journey.

"Thank you! Thank you, young man! You have saved the lives of my granddaughter and my people!" His voice was filled with gratitude and relief.

The elderly man's granddaughter, standing behind him, was a striking figure. Her long black hair cascaded down her back like a dark waterfall, contrasting with her porcelain skin.

She wore fine medieval garments, intricately adorned and designed for both elegance and practicality.

"Thank you," she said softly. "We would all be dead right now if not for your arrival."

The elderly merchant explained that they were from the city of Essex, a small clan of merchants returning from a trade journey in the Pleiadean Empire.

He told them he had simply taken his granddaughter on this trade to give her some experience since he had been grooming her and planned on making her take over his business.

Their journey had been smooth until the ambush that nearly led to them being wiped out.

Luckily, the merchants were heading to the same city that Grimm was heading for. He offered to escort them safely the rest of the way for the payment he was going to give the previous bodyguards and the elderly man happily obliged.

Grimm, with a touch of his characteristic coldness, addressed the man's granddaughter.

"You're aware that the life of a merchant is always fraught with danger? Are you sure this is the life you want to live?"

It was true. That was the lives of merchants anyways, it wasn't just mercenaries whose lives tethered on a thin line between life and death.

In fact, that was the sort of place this medieval world was in general.

"I know," she replied, bowing deeply. "I've trained with the sword all my life. I may not be the best, but I can hold my own with a sword in my hand."

"Suit yourself," Grimm said dismissively.

The matter was settled and they would now escort the merchant to the city of Essex.

Sol turned to the body of the only merchant that had died during the struggle. If Grimm had come in sooner, his life could have been saved.

The boy was so young, only a few years older than Sol.

Sol reached out a hand and closed his eyes.

"Rest in peace..." Sol said somberly.