DRACONIC LEGACY

Cold Blooded Skirmishes

“Ahh, that's what YOU said,” Khanz grabbed, he lowered his axe from his shoulder. “If those trees could talk, they'd be as cackling as us, you Sunset Isle bastard! You don't know yourself! Fool!” Khanz spat into the snow.

"What do you want, Khanz?" Sancho chased after him, his voice shaking.

“Dang! So now we're talkin'. What do WE want?” Khanz spat and cursed in the local language.

“Did you hear what he said, I couldn't believe it, Sancho? A year of us of not seeing each other and you being such a hypocrite, you midget!” Khanz squealed back, his men occasionally squeaking and chiming in.

“Of course, we want money!” he shouted then.

"He probably hit his head," said one.

"Or maybe he's crazy," said another.

"Have you found religion, or have you 'turned a new leaf?" asked Khanz, mocking again, before turning back to his brusque self. “Hey, bastard! You forgot who helped you when the Haugers treated you like dogs because your family's skin color is different? Who treats you equally? Who gave you money for your wife's treatment, taking care of your brother's 'case'?"

"Yeah, step aside Sancho, don't act like a hero."

"You remember revenge, don't you?"

"The Trees shall testify, did you forget that?"

Voices again filled the barrier, Sancho bowed deeply and clenched his fists in exasperation, his face embarrassed and looking like he was about to cry. Rygar who seemed to understand a little what was going on, patted the shoulder of the frozen Sancho pulled him back, and took the initiative to step between them all.

“Gentlemen, unfortunately, I don't have much time to chat.” Rygar plays his sword. Then put up the horses. “How about you finish your intentions right away? If you want money, I have money, come and get it."

“Ratty brat, you underestimate us, eh?” Khanz sent two of his goonies to attack Rygar.

Rygar hurled himself with a steady footing, a short pirouette action between the two bandits followed by a lightning circular s***h to end the round. There was no commotion, only the creaking of footsteps on the snow and a short muffled groan.

Sancho wiped the blood splatter that landed on his cheek, shocked to see the red color on the white snow that was nearby.

A pair of large bodies collapsed with their stomachs swelled. Rygar shook off the remaining blood that was still dripping from the tip of his sword, the implied message was short, he wasn't entertained.

"Carry on?" asked Rygar.

Khanz widened his eyes as he watched two of his trusted confidants fall without any significant resistance, swallowing his saliva in horror. He almost stepped back, only to see Rygar who was stepping forward, if only he had not reminded by his prestige.

“Forward, forward! Forward all of you, finish off that brat!” Khanz frantically dispatched his entire retinue, even though he was frozen on the spot, watching a new pair slaughtered without any significant resistance.

Rygar embodies a black cyclone that swept across the white expanse, its flash of brilliant silver gilded with pure Mythril. Took turns slicing, parting, and separating the crowds of people lump of limbs, a dozen hands separated from its body.

In Khanz's head, the one they were fighting right now was not a human, some sort of demon in the form of a young human, perhaps. He who was watching barely even saw when the young man swung his sword, not even a shadow, his steps were light and quiet.

Suddenly he was moving toward his followers one by one, like a butcher to the cattle, and they too fell with their bodies slashed by swords. It was rare for a sword fight to occur, even before they had finished mounting their stances, the young man's sword swing sent far ahead despite his body being in a constant gallop. They are slaughtered like sheep.

The unequal battle ended by a diagonal s***h that tore a right shoulder to the chest, as well as severing the hilt of the ax that reflexively served as a barrier. Thus, his last accomplice fell.

A family of grizzly bears who were hunting for fish in a cold river was taken aback by the sounds of moaning humans, their echoes overpowering the roar of the water. The commotion that only lasted for a moment also disturbed the birds in the tree branches, some flew away with a long chirp, startling the snow fox that was about to ambush it.

And now, when the butcher has done with his men, he was the only one left. His wide eyes could see how scary the tall, young figure was walking towards him, carrying a sword that was still covered in blood.

Khanz's chest heaved up and down and suddenly his head went black, suddenly breathing was something very difficult. Finding his hands shaking so much that his axe slipped into the snow, he had a hard time understanding the cause of the weakness in his burly leg muscles.

His brain told him to immediately take a thousand steps, right now, as far as possible, but his body resisted and chose to stay. Khanz seemed to be at war with himself, and every step closer the young man-slayer took would reduce his lungs' ability to pump air in.

And the long strides that were forced to make later seemed meaningless. It was like running in a nightmare, the distance that he was headed was never close as if running in place. Weak and slow. His waist was even shaking now, and he only felt a little relieved when he felt a wet warm seeping from his crotch.

"Who are you?" Khanz squeaked. Turned towards the inevitable nightmare.

"I, am the main character in my story," Rygar answered.

Releasing the silver sheen that grabbed so coldly.

Birds flew again from the branches of shady trees whose stems spiked with piles of snow. The white fox peeking from the low trunk pouted.

***

"Are you all right, Sancho?" asked Rygar to Sancho who had been quiet ever since.

Now he realized that despite his appearance as tough as a mountain rock, Sancho was a gentleman. He even looked teary-eyed when Rygar finished cleaning up the mountain bandits that had been stalking them earlier.

"I know their family," he said.

They were now in a small river that was slightly higher than the original resting place. Rygar was washing his face and washing the red spots between his fingers, face, and clothes in a cold stream. Dealing with the smell of blood from his body so as not to provoke a pack of glacial wolves.

The guide, who was pensively staring at the gravel, was taken aback by his cry. “I-I, yeah, I, I, I'm fine, Rygar,” a stuttering Sancho replies.

Rygar responded to the stuttering answer with a bitter smile, then scooped cold water into his face, he understood that it wasn't every day people saw a m******e like this. Not infrequently people will vomit seeing the results of their actions. Even him 4 months ago would have reacted the same way, but now, the rancid smell of blood was something he was familiar with.

“Why…you?” asked Sancho, Rygar wiping his face with a blue handkerchief, wondering why his guide was choking on his own words.

"What is it?"

“I-I, I used to work for him, Rygar. Khanz wasn't completely lying, although I had my reasons. But, why aren't you bothered by it, why don't you, don't even send me back to Hauger?”

"Oh, that." Rygar crouched down and grabbed one of his swords, the other sword, which was wrapped in a tiny chain, was left lying.

“If you are meant to hurt to me, surely there's no need to wait until we get this far, right? I'm nobody in Hauger, just a foreign traveller, nobody cares even if I die." Rygar took out his sword from the hilt and dipped it into the river.