The Crimson Chains and Whispers of Rebellion

Auralis and Heabi's battle had reached a fever pitch, with each exchange more brutal and intense than the last. As Heabi attempted to vanish and reappear behind Auralis, Auralis quickly countered by unleashing a blinding spell called "Illuminating Flash Fire." The blast filled the forest with a searing purple-red light that could be seen from miles away, setting the trees and mountainside aglow with an eerie, almost supernatural aura. In the distance, Lon felt his chest tighten with alarm as he saw the light pierce through the night, while Hercules, too, took notice, muttering something about "another one of those damn light shows" as he made his way toward the source.

Blinded by the spell, Heabi stumbled, blinking away the intense afterglow, only to find Auralis standing calmly, watching him. As the haze lifted, Auralis took in Heabi's appearance—an oddly youthful, fair-skinned man around twenty-five, with golden hair and an unsettlingly charming face. Chains of pure gold wrapped around his arms, gleaming with symbols of unknown origin, while his clothes were adorned with splatters of dried blood, partially hidden beneath a ghostly, translucent robe. Heabi's weapons shimmered in the dim light: two wicked-looking daggers, one silver with a crimson line down the middle and the other golden with a streak of dark purple, were gripped tightly in each hand.

Regaining his composure, Heabi lunged forward, thrusting his daggers with deadly precision, aiming directly for Auralis's heart. "You're good," Heabi sneered, his tone dripping with mockery, "for a dead man walking. Maybe I'll add you to my collection."

But just as Heabi's blade seemed to pierce Auralis, his form faded like mist, revealing itself to be an illusion. Heabi's eyes widened in shock, realizing too late that he'd been tricked. The real Auralis appeared behind him, his fist drawn back, charged with an unsteady, but potent, crimson flame—a spell he'd dubbed Gonky Fist. With a fierce swing, he punched Heabi directly in his scarred abdomen, where an old wound still throbbed beneath his armor. The blow reignited the old injury, tearing it open anew and sending Heabi sprawling into the nearest boulder, cracking the stone with the force of the impact.

The flames from the Gonky Fist burned weakly, but the attack did its job. Heabi winced, feeling a familiar sharp pain as blood seeped through his clothes. But he wasn't down yet. Gritting his teeth, he activated his unique ability, Usap of Gold, his entire body hardening into a metallic sheen, his golden dagger transforming into a deadly needle-tipped weapon, gleaming with a venomous intent.

Charging with renewed ferocity, Heabi conjured four identical copies of himself, each one mirroring his moves with chilling accuracy. Auralis narrowed his eyes, calling on a weaker variation of his area spell. With a burst of energy, he dispelled the illusions, but as the images faded, Heabi was nowhere in sight.

Then, with a sudden crack, Heabi tunneled up from beneath the earth, emerging right at Auralis's feet, his needle-tipped dagger aimed unerringly for Auralis's throat. In that instant, Auralis realized he was too slow to dodge, and he braced himself for impact—only to see Heabi's dagger freeze inches from his neck.

Heabi's hand had been caught, gripped tightly by none other than Hercules, whose large, rough hand locked Heabi's arm in place as if holding a child's toy. Heabi's shock was immediate, his eyes widening as he struggled to pull free. Frustrated, he raised his silver dagger to strike Hercules, but the legendary general merely blocked it with his bare hand, the blade sliding off his skin without leaving a scratch.

Hercules gave a low chuckle, looking down at Heabi with an amused glint in his eyes. "You really thought you could harm my... food supplier?" he said, an eyebrow raised. "If he dies, who's going to bring me anything good to eat?"

For a split second, Heabi's smug demeanor faltered. His face twisted in surprise, a flicker of disbelief and then, unmistakably, fear. He had heard rumors about a legendary general who had taken to these mountains—an indomitable warrior, thought to be only a myth. And now, the man was standing before him.

At that moment, Lon arrived, his chest heaving, eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. He saw Auralis bruised but alive, Hercules restraining an ominous stranger, and the faint glow of purple fire still lingering in the air. Assuming Hercules was just another old man helping to protect Auralis, Lon shouted, "Let me help! I won't let this guy hurt Auralis!"

Hercules laughed, his grip on Heabi still unyielding. "This kid thinks he's saving the day," he said, shaking his head. Then, leaning closer to Heabi, he added in a low voice, "You really thought you'd get away with killing my favorite chef? Not on my watch."

Heabi's face went pale as he realized, with a sinking feeling, exactly who stood before him. "Could this man really be…?" he murmured, but his words trailed off as Hercules's grip tightened, and for the first time, Heabi felt true fear in his heart.

Lon's eyes burned with determination as he saw the scene unfold before him. Heabi, a dangerous man who had caused so much destruction, stood still, seemingly in the grasp of Hercules. But Lon didn't hesitate. He remembered Herley's words echoing in his mind, "Killing is easier than capturing." The urgency of the situation consumed him, and in that moment, his sense of duty took over.

Lon swung the hammer Herley had given him. It wasn't a large, cumbersome weapon like the ones most warriors would use—it was lightweight, designed for speed and precision, not heavy impact. This was important for Lon, given his half-giant heritage, which made him stronger but also prone to exhausting himself if he used something too heavy. He swung the hammer with all his might, hoping to strike Heabi down, but as he did, Hercules, quick as ever, tossed Heabi aside to protect him.

The hammer connected with Hercules's broad chest instead, but the legendary general didn't even flinch. His stoic expression didn't change, and he didn't even seem to notice the impact of the strike. Lon froze in shock, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized Heabi hadn't escaped, but was being protected.

Lon's panic grew, thinking the old man was hurt, that perhaps Heabi had caught him off guard. In that moment, he wasn't thinking clearly. He raised the hammer again and prepared to strike at Heabi. But before he could land the blow, Hercules blocked it once more, his hand effortlessly stopping the heavy weapon mid-swing.

"Brat, stop attacking," Hercules commanded, his tone firm. "I want to know why this man attacked my supplier. Who is he?"

Lon, stunned, lowered the hammer slowly, trying to make sense of the situation. He couldn't believe that the elderly man had not only survived his strike but had also blocked his attack so easily. Lon was strong, no doubt about it, but Hercules was on another level. He had to acknowledge that.

"Senior," Lon said respectfully, though still on edge, "Please, evacuate. He's a criminal. He needs to be executed."

Hercules chuckled darkly. "Stop the act, kid," he retorted, his voice carrying a trace of amusement. "I'm no weakling, so don't try to order me around. You're the one who's still got a lot to learn."

Lon, caught off guard, paused for a moment. His mind raced, struggling to reconcile the situation. He had been taught to think of himself as a knight in training, someone who would do anything to protect the innocent and punish criminals. But now he found himself at odds with a figure who had far more experience and power than he could imagine.

"...You're my senior," Lon muttered, still recovering from the shock. He lowered the hammer slightly, the weight of his confusion settling in.

Hercules grinned at him, his eyes full of wisdom and something else—something like respect, though he kept it hidden beneath his gruff exterior. "That's right, kid. And if you're smart, you'll listen up. We need to figure out who Heabi is, what he's doing here, and why he attacked my supplier." The way he emphasized "supplier" hinted at something deeper, something that was now calling for investigation.

Lon couldn't help but feel a sense of disbelief. Everything had changed in an instant. Heabi was no longer just a criminal; he was part of something much bigger, and Lon had a feeling he was about to be dragged into it. But for now, all he could do was stand there, taking in the lesson Hercules had just imparted—strength, yes, but also patience and a willingness to listen.

This moment, this encounter, was the beginning of something much more complex than he had ever imagined.

Hercules's grip tightened around Heabi's collar as he lifted him off the ground, his large hands easily holding the man's frail form. Heabi winced in pain, his body battered from the earlier clashes and the brutal fire attack from Auralis. He could barely hold himself up, his face already bruised from the relentless blows.

"You're not in any position to talk about justice," Hercules growled, his voice low and menacing. With a swift motion, he slammed Heabi's face back against the stone wall, the force of the impact causing Heabi to cough up blood.

Heabi, his eyes glazed over with fatigue, barely managed to speak. His words came out weak, barely more than a rasp. "I am justice," he muttered, his voice filled with a twisted conviction. "Not in your sense… but in the true sense… the balance…"

Hercules's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. He wasn't interested in Heabi's cryptic ramblings or his distorted view of justice. He needed answers, and Heabi was the key to unraveling whatever this man had planned. Hercules leaned in close, his voice cold and dangerous.

"You think you can just walk in here, attack my friends, and spout nonsense about justice? I'm done with this game." Hercules paused, glancing at Lon, who stood silently behind him, uncertain of what was about to happen.

Hercules took a deep breath before he hoisted Heabi over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Enough talk. You'll get your chance to speak once you've recovered."

With a decisive turn, Hercules carried Heabi through the dense forest, his steps unhurried, as if the weight of the situation had barely phased him. The trees around them swayed in the wind, the eerie purple light from Auralis's earlier spell still casting strange shadows across the landscape. Lon followed behind them, his mind racing with questions.

What exactly was Heabi after? And what did this so-called "justice" mean?

Hercules carried Heabi to a secluded cabin deep in the woods, a place known only to a select few. It was an old hideaway, a quiet place where the legendary general often took refuge when he needed time to think or rest. Heabi, now unconscious from the combination of pain and exhaustion, was unceremoniously thrown onto a rough wooden table.

"Let him sleep," Hercules muttered, turning to Lon. "We'll wait until he wakes up. When he does, we'll make sure he talks. And this time, it's not going to be easy for him."

Lon nodded, unsure of what to make of the situation. He had never seen Hercules so serious, so focused. There was a grim determination in his eyes that spoke volumes about how far he was willing to go to get the answers they needed.

For now, they would wait. But the moment Heabi regained consciousness, Hercules would make sure he revealed everything—whether he wanted to or not.