Chapter 104: 16

Chapter 104: 16

At his appearance many of the slaves shook in anger— and not just because the young man had thunked his silver goblet at a fellow slave. 

Off to the side, the mercenaries too were surprisingly trying their best to hide their annoyance and displeasure. Weeks back on their journey here, it was them who had to try exceptionally well to keep the young man from destroying the quality and condition of the goods— most notably the slaves. 

"Young Kail, always a pleasure." Dais said flatly. 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." 

Although he had everyone's gaze, comparatively the young man took no one into his eyes. He treated everything in his surroundings as if they were his, and he treated everyone except Dais as his servant. 

For good reason too, as he was not only one of the favorite sons of his tyrant father who spoiled him rotten, but also because he was especially appointed the figure behind him, who served as protector, but more enforcer. 

The man was tall and looked fierce. Raised especially by the dreadful "merchant" family, he was pumped up by various drugs and vicious medicines to quickly increase his strength. With veins crawling all over his body like worms, although he looked to be in his late-thirties he was actually only eighteen.

The most striking thing about him, however, was the gigantic warhammer on his back. The head of the enormous thing was like six watermelons lined up horizontally, and attached to it, was a broad, thick, six-foot pole of rough metal. 

He turned his gaze towards those who dared to look at his young lord with hostility, and many of the slaves who were trembling in fury looked away sheepishly, or started to tremble in fear instead. 

The mercenaries also swallowed their pride and avoided his gaze. Only those of the true elite such as Nadia and two others might be able to hold their own against him, but as mercenaries they simply did not desire the trouble. 

The trouble had to be worth the gold, after all.

"Hey." 

"Are you even a man?" 

Steps echoed throughout the stone palace as the young lord made his way over to Amon. The slave boy was still groaning in pain with his hands clutching his eye, so of course he didn't notice the young menace approaching him. 

Unceremoniously, Kail's leg left the ground and his foot crashed right into Amon's chin. The blow instantly fractured the bone near that area, and the slave boy howled in pure anguish. 

Truthfully, such a blow to the chin should have rendered him unconscious, but his unnecessary perseverance kept him wide awake for all the breadth of the pain. 

To the young noble however, it did not matter if Amon was conscious or unconscious, it mattered even less to him whether he was in pain. Kail was determined to vent his displeasure on the boy even if it killed him. 

"Useless bastard!" 

"You actually lost to a wench!?" 

"You were even led around by the nose!" 

A relentless barrage of kicks landed on Amon's chest, stomach and back. 

"Am I only worth this much!?"

"Once you had seen me! This young noble! Watching! You should have kept fighting until you fucking died!" 

The sound of the dull blows audibly rang out to everyone's ears followed by Amon's weak and anguished groans. Many of the slaves watched in sorrow and furious shame. 

Their spirits were evidently not yet broken, but they did not have the strength to change their circumstances just yet. They held onto hope, but that feeling of powerlessness that coursed through them was always overwhelming. Whenever it came, it was something they always tried fiercely to resist. 

Off to the side, Dais looked at his younger brother without an ounce of familial love. Talentless and spoiled, this younger brother of his came from one of his father's many women, and he had grown to become an unreasonable and insufferable wretch. 

Dais moved his eyes next to the man on the throne. While turning his head he noticed that a few mercenaries already had their eyes glued to Balon, but he thought nothing of it. 

Maybe they too were expecting a show. 

Clueless, Dais was looking forward to what Balon was going to do about this mess and how he was going to solve it. It was a low chance, but he did want to see his brother suffer. If not that, then the ensuing chaos that would follow could still entertain him. 

The elite mercenaries on the other hand, were getting ready to burst and escape out of the cave if that man on the throne's wrath spilled towards them. 

Yet, his expression was the same, never once changing. 

Only if one looked especially close— and some did— would they notice…his eyes were neither on the younger son, nor on the slave boy being beaten. Instead his eyes had never left his apprentice, and for good reason…

Suddenly, the dull sounds of the continuous blows halted. Another strike meant to inflict pain and anguish was stopped in midair. A small and dainty hand caught the leg of a bigger and older boy, stopping it right in its tracks. 

"Um…I— I– I think that's enough…" Her tone was neither firm nor strong, but the girl managed to speak her will anyway. 

Surprise appeared on everyone's face at that moment. It was especially apparent on some slaves, who only vaguely remembered kindness as a distant memory. 

A slight smile curved on Balon's face. 

He did not care for protecting the weak, but he did care that his disciple had agency and autonomy. 

What she was to him was a disciple, not a servant, and the young man on the throne could respect those who fought for and acted upon their own values.

Though that mindset was contrary to Kail's. 

"You dare stop me, whore!?" 

He violently shook his leg from her grasp. 

"You were just having a match, weren't you?"

"How bout I take his place!" 

Obviously he did not wait for Yela's reply, nor anyone's permission. 

Albeit slightly tipsy from the wine, the young man performed a skillful kick towards her. 

Taken by surprise the girl just barely blocked the kick with her arms. 

PLAP!

Yela gritted her teeth. A dull pain had spread from the area of the blow as the force of the kick pushed her noticeably back. 

"You have the gall to stop me? What's your status!? My father has turned even nobles into prostitutes before! And I'd do the same to you!" 

The air shook and before she could take the chance to fully ready herself, another strike had already been thrown which was quickly approaching her. 

A dull clap sounded out from the violent collision of flesh, and Yela's arms trembled from the immense pain. She was no doctor nor medic, but she felt like the bones in her arms had cracked with a few fractures. 

Nadia and her mercenaries locked onto Balon once again, while Dais took more than a few glances at him. The mercenaries were nervous at his retaliation that thankfully never came, while Dais took special note of his indifference, even when the little girl was subjected to injury and pain. 

WHOOSH!

Another strike came, and out of pure emergency she sidestepped the blow. Luckily the girl was talented enough to do so, for the trembling pain made it hard for her to immerse herself back into that strange trance-like dance. 

Now, instead of effortless grace and smooth flowing motions, her movements were hurried, hasty and strenuous. 

A few seconds passed by, and slowly, the scene before everyone looked the same as an intermediate martial arts match.

Having a rich father meant that Kail was entitled to various high-level combat instructors to make up for his shit business sense, while Yela was simply a quick learner. 

Unlike her last opponent, the young noble's punches and kicks had a proficient sense of form and dexterity. His strikes flew through the air rapidly and fiercely. In turn, the young girl strived to move as fast as she could, and during the fight she was even rapidly shortening the distance between each of her dodging maneuvers. 

Her opponent was much more skilled and obviously decently trained, but as the fight went on…the scene before everyone slowly started to repeat the earlier match. 

Time seemed to have rewinded. Yela was somehow, simply dodging every strike no matter at what angle and speed it came from. 

And yet…she still never chose to strike back. Some of the less skilled mercenaries thought that she was using all her effort to dodge and couldn't strike back, but Nadia noticed that this was a case of choosing not to strike, instead of not having the adequate skill to retaliate. 

Sweat dripped from both of their bodies as they both breathed out exhaustedly. Although they were beyond tired, surprisingly, both of their movements were not affected much. 

One of them had been practicing for years, and was operating out of pure anger and rage— he felt humiliated that he had not struck the annoying little cunt since the beginning of the fight. 

While the other, was someone who although had just entered the fighting world, was a person who was constantly pushed beyond her limits. Being relentlessly battered, bruised, and gashed by the jagged rocks with little to no rest, and forcing herself to continue despite the agonizing pain and exhaustion, it was clear that her teacher's training program had made her endurance and pain tolerance significantly skyrocket. 

…Truth be told she was still much more exhausted than her opponent who had been conditioning for years, but her tempered will kept her body in dynamic motion. 

The sound of clothes flapping through the wind was heard. A fist flew at high speed, and hit nothing but air, and a young boy huffed and puffed from both exhaustion, and furiousness as he glared at his opponent hatefully. 

"Hahahaha!" 

An older voice laughed loudly at the circumstances. There was only one man who would dare to do so despite the situation, and Dais made sure not to suppress himself, letting everyone, and especially his brother, hear his laughter. 

Although he was expecting and looking forward to one of the two fighters being beaten senseless, the sight before him proved to be much more enjoyable. Seeing his younger brother trying and failing over and over— making a fool of himself so embarrassingly in front of so many people— was something that always made him laugh with glee. 

At his brother's mocking laughter, Kail did not yell, scream or throw a tantrum in frustration. The boy was most definitely still malding, but instead his fury started to grow more quiet and…insidious. 

Nadia noticed this as she was especially perceptive and experienced. She once had those same eyes that the young noble was giving off, and what hid behind them was scheming malevolence just waiting to be unleashed. 

In the next moment, the boy lunged at his opponent once again. Dais's smile crept further towards his ears as he noticed that his brother's movements were much more forceful and reckless. It seemed he was successful in riling up his little brother. 

In turn Yela had to take wider dodges as her opponent was now swinging wildly at a rapid rate. Only a few people, including Nadia and Balon, noticed that Kail was slowly pushing Yela towards a specific location… 

A sweeping kick swept high through the air— the boy had missed widely again but this time on purpose. As he descended from his missed strike, he spun around and hit some metal object with the back heel of his foot. 

That miscellaneous object was the silver goblet that he previously threw at Amon, and now the motionless thing that was previously on the floor, was speeding like a shooting star through the atmosphere right towards the young girl. 

Yela was talented but in no means experienced. If she was, then maybe she would have caught on to the boy's schemes. Perhaps she could have easily sensed and dodged the silver cup when she was in that strange dance, but now it took her totally by surprise. 

Kail did not necessarily take proper aim, so he too was surprised when the silver cup smashed into the little girl's head, right on her brow just above her right eye. 

The girl fell to the ground in both pain and shaky dizziness. The world was spinning, and the colors of each indeterminate thing in her eyes started to bleed onto each other, creating a messy, jumbled, chaotic world. 

Other than that, actual blood also started to leak from her forehead. 

Unfortunately there were no breaks in battle. She could feel an unbearable pain above her right eye, and without warning a hard fist slammed into the eye opposite. 

Her eye swelled with blood and bruise, a relentless series of blows assaulted her as she hurriedly raised her arms to impede the onslaught. 

"Hahahahaha!" 

The young man started to laugh in a cruel and mad glee. Although she tried desperately to stop the blows, the silver goblet had left her head jumbled and wobbly, leading to a number of blows to pass through her hurried defense and smash right into her face. 

The smile on Dais's face disappeared and what was left was a sort of displeased boredom. On the other hand, the slaves had mixed feelings. They did not support the little lady as she was assumed to be of a higher class, and obviously they hated the young man who was her opponent, but seeing her be abused like this still left them with terrible feelings in their chest. 

The mercenaries and the three sisters however, looked towards the man on the throne. They expected him to be furious and issue a slaughter, but instead he kept looking at his disciple, unfazed. 

Those eyes either held no emotion, or hid them well. Even as the girl was pummeled and beaten to a pulp, there was nothing. 

Even as one of her arms fell to the side from the relentless beating, her skinny arm bruised, broken and limp— not a single tinge of emotion appeared on his face, and let alone, did he decide to end the fight.