CHAPTER 52: THE WORDS OF A MAN.

Anticipation hung heavy in the air.

The bandana boss’s command still resonated through the street, but it was Kelvin who responded.

He moved so fast that it became hard for anyone to even keep up with him.

The whoosh was the sound of displaced air, and the first slash was a silver arc that seemed to draw a line across the throats of the first two men. It was impossibly fast, a dance of deadly precision.

Before the third man could even register that his companions were collapsing, gurgling as they clutched their necks, Kelvin had already spun.

His second blade, held in a reverse grip, flashed upward, burying itself deep under the third man’s armpit, severing muscle and artery.

The man’s war cry died in a wet cough, his sword falling from a hand that had suddenly lost all feeling.

Kelvin kicked the dying man away, flicking the blood from his blades with a theatrical flourish.

He stood amidst the three twitching bodies, a cocky, almost feral grin plastered on his face.

"Three down," he announced to the remaining seven, his voice dripping with condescension. "Honestly, I expected more from the ’elite’ White Rivels. Are you going to just stand there, or was that the entire welcome party?"

The bandana boss’s jaw was tight, his knuckles white on his spear shaft.

He had seen fast, but this was different. "You bastard... kill him! Kill them both!" he roared, his confidence rattled.

The remaining seven men, now far more cautious, fanned out, their blades held low. They recognized they were dealing with someone far outside their usual weight class.

"Oh, good," Kelvin chirped, bouncing lightly on his feet. "A real warm-up!"

He met their charge head-on.

The street erupted into a chaotic symphony of steel. Kelvin was a whirlwind, his dual blades a continuous blur.

He parried a heavy broadsword with one blade, the force jarring his arm, while his other blade darted out like a snake to hamstring the attacker. The man screamed and went down.

Another came at him from the side. Kelvin ducked under the wild swing, sweeping the man’s legs out from under him and driving a boot into his face for good measure.

He was showing off, adding unnecessary spins and taunts, clearly reveling in the spotlight.

"Sloppy!" he yelled, deflecting a thrust. "Too slow!" he taunted, dodging a cut.

Echidna watched from the inn’s doorway, her hand covering a delighted smile.

"My, my, he’s certainly energetic," she mused to herself, her eyes tracking the one-sided slaughter with the detached interest of a critic.

Inside, the noise was a grating intrusion.

Ash sat on the edge of his bed, the map from Terra spread out before him. His mind was a battlefield of its own, far removed from the petty skirmish outside.

He meticulously traced the city’s lines, mentally mapping the entrance to the Underground Yabor. Isaac’s arrogant smirk and Owen’s feigned piety—the faces of the hero’s party members—flashed in his mind.

Adding to that was the constant thought of what Terra told him. He could tell she meant every word, and he wasn’t supposed to care either way.

And yet...

’Sigh.’

He continunsed his calculations and planning. Trying to build a mental framework for a revenge that seemed, at times, impossibly large.

’Am I strong enough?’ The thought was a persistent, venomous whisper.

The system was right.

He needed an army strong enough to stand on its own without the fear of being snuffed out. Without the fear of every losing a battle.

CLANG!

A body slammed against the inn’s outer wall, shaking the cheap wood and rattling Ash’s concentration.

CRASH!

He gritted his teeth, his fingers tightening on the map.

The sounds from outside—the grunts, the screams, and the insufferable, cocky laughter of Kelvin were like a hammer on his skull, shattering his focus.

"That idiot..." he growled.

Outside, Kelvin had just disarmed the last of the seven grunts, leaving him with a broken wrist.

The man was on his knees, begging. The other six were either dead, dying, or unconscious.

Kelvin stood over the last man, his blades crossed, breathing a little heavily but clearly triumphant.

"See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

"Enough playing, boy," the bandana boss growled.

He finally stepped forward, planting the butt of his spear on the ground.

The weapon was at least seven feet long, with a wicked, leaf-shaped blade at its tip.

"You’re fast, I’ll give you that. But you’re just a flashy little insect. Now, you face a professional."

"Oh?" Kelvin’s smile faded slightly. The spear’s reach was a genuine problem for his short blades.

The boss didn’t wait for a reply.

He thrust the spear forward with blinding speed.

It wasn’t a flashy move; it was a simple, brutal, and effective lunge. Kelvin was forced to jump back, the spear tip grazing his chest, cutting a line through his leather tunic.

"Tch!" Kelvin scowled.

The boss advanced, a wall of motion.

He twirled the spear, creating a blurring zone of death that kept Kelvin completely out of range. Every time Kelvin tried to dash in, the spear point was there, forcing him to retreat.

"All that speed, and you can’t even touch me," the boss mocked, jabbing again and again.

Kelvin was growing frustrated, his show turning into a humiliating defense.

It was at that exact moment that the inn door swung open with a resounding bang.

The sound was so final, so heavy, that everyone froze. Even the boss pulled his spear back.

Ash stood in the doorway.

He wasn’t yelling, but the tone of his voice was enough to put fright in anyone’s heart.

He was just standing there, and all attention had been shifted on him.

The air, which had been full of the hot smell of blood and adrenaline, suddenly dropped several degrees.

His eyes, cold and utterly devoid of emotion, swept over the scene: the bodies scattered on the ground. t, the few survivors barely able to stand on their feet, and finally, the frustrated Kelvin.

Then, his gaze locked onto the boss.

The bandana boss was a veteran of countless street brawls and gang wars.

He had faced down guild adventurers and city guards.

But the look in this man’s eyes made his blood run cold.

While it looked like anger, it was something different; it was the abyss.

It was the look of something that he should definitely be afraid of.

"Hey!" Kelvin snapped, annoyed. "I had this! Don’t you dare steal my spotlight!"

Ash ignored him completely. His voice was flat, carrying easily in the sudden, terrified silence.

"You’re making too much noise."

Before the boss could even formulate a response, the survivor who had been hiding at the back of the group pointed a shaking finger, his face a mask of pure terror.

"T-THAT’S HIM! BOSS, THAT’S THE ONE! HE’S THE MONSTER WHO KILLED GREG AND THE OTHERS!"

Echidna’s smile widened until it was a chilling, predatory crescent.

’Ah, there it is.’

The boss’s blood turned to ice. This was him. This was the man who had butchered an entire squad without breaking a sweat.

"I told you," Ash said, taking a single step forward.

"That you’re making too much noise." He didn’t draw a weapon. He didn’t need to. "Leave. Or I will make you quiet."

The boss swallowed, his bravado evaporating.

He looked at Ash, then at his spear, then at the mangled bodies of his men.

The calculation was simple. He wasn’t being paid enough for this.

"This... this isn’t over," he stammered, a pathetic attempt to save face. "The White Rivels don’t forget!"

"I don’t care," Ash replied. "Get out."

Scowling, the boss jerked his head at his remaining, terrified men. "Grab the wounded! We’re leaving!"

They scrambled to obey, dragging their moaning comrades away, leaving their dead behind.

The boss was the last to leave, his eyes never leaving Ash as he backed away slowly before finally turning and running to catch up with his men.

The street was suddenly empty, save for the corpses and the small crowd of onlookers, who now began to disperse, whispering frantically.

Kelvin sheathed his blades with an angry shing. "You totally ruined my moment, man. I had him."

Ash didn’t even look at him. He turned and walked back inside the inn. He stopped at the door, his back to them.

"Kelvin. Terra."

Terra, who had been watching the entire exchange from the window, her face a complex mix of fear and awe, flinched.

"We’re leaving in an hour," Ash commanded. "Be ready. We’re going to the Underground Yabor."

"Hai!~" Echidna giggled as she immediately ran after him, skipping like a little kid.

Kelvin sighed.

"Honestly, that dude can be such a pain in the ass sometimes." He looked towards the single dead body beside him.

"But the fact he made them leave just like that is kind of scary. Sigh, no wonder Echidna follows him around now."

Taking a final sigh, he headed into the inn, ready to head out alongside Ash and the others.