Knight of the Magical Staff

Issa's Arrow

The following days continued to pass by hopelessly and uneventfully.

Prisoners were still being dragged out one after another by mercenaries and sold to various buyers. The number of people in Leon's cage was gradually decreasing; he knew that sooner or later, his turn would come.

On the day when Leon, bored out of his mind, was carving the sixth mark on the ground, he noticed two mercenaries approaching his cage, babbling incomprehensibly. One wore an expression of delight, while the other looked as if he had lost a loved one.

*(In Uria language)* "...This one~ this one, and this one... Just these three. I'm not asking for much. Quickly open the cage; I need to get back before the city gates close at dark." The Kantadar mercenary, his face full of joy, pointed at the three youths who happened to be sitting together in the cage.

*(In Uria language)* "The price of these three slaves is enough to settle our debt. Remember, don't you dare bother me at the camp again. I'll never gamble with you again in my life," grumbled the mercenary opening the cage, angrily pushing the cage door open.

Although Leon couldn't understand the conversation between the two foreign mercenaries, seeing their gestures and having heard their rude shouts many times, he could still understand that they were ordering him and the others to come out.

As he stood up, Leon looked at Lohak and Azerion, who had also been pointed out.

Seeing the hateful and hostile glare in Lohak's eyes, Leon's heart skipped a beat. Afraid that his companion might act impulsively once they got out, he slowed his steps and quietly reminded Lohak beside him, "It's not the time. If we act rashly, we'll all die."

Lohak frowned deeply but didn't answer. In the end, he nodded.

*(In Uria language)* "Damn it, what the hell are you brats muttering about? Shut up and move faster!" The Kantadar mercenary who opened the door obviously couldn't understand the Serian language. Impatiently, he yanked Leon out.

Leon lowered his head submissively without resisting, allowing the mercenary to add another iron chain to his shackles. He, Azerion, and Lohak were each chained together by the same chain attached to their shackles, forming them into a single line.

*(In Uria language)* "Keep moving!"

The mercenary, delighted at gaining three slaves for nothing, took the shackle key from the other man, then gave Leon, who was leading, a hard shove, cursing as he gestured for them to proceed along the camp road.

Leon neither had the ability nor the mood to resist such humiliation now. He could only suppress his anger, trying to quicken his pace to avoid being kicked.

They passed through gaps between the barracks and walked through gate after gate guarded by soldiers.

The path they took made Leon's eyes widen unconsciously. Before long, under the mercenaries' pulling, they actually walked out of the heavily guarded mercenary camp.

The chain-linked group trudged along a muddy path full of footprints but hardly worthy of being called a road. Around them stretched open fields, with woods in the distance. Leon trudged barefoot with difficulty, stumbling over uneven ground, but he couldn't care about the pain in his feet; excitement welled up in his heart.

He didn't know where the mercenary intended to take them, but he realized that this was the opportunity he had been waiting for!

Having left the camp guarded by mercenaries, the only thing now restricting their freedom was this one soldier and the shackles on their hands.

His heart pounded with nervous excitement. Leon glanced sideways at Lohak behind him. Sure enough, a spark of eager anticipation flickered in Lohak's eyes.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Leon continued to march with his head down, using his peripheral vision to quickly assess the Kantadar mercenary escorting them from behind.

The mercenary wore an iron nasal helmet on his head and a suit of chainmail interlaced with iron plates on his body. He carried an arming sword at his waist, a dagger on the other side, and a round shield strapped to his back.

Looking at the mercenary's weapons and armor, Leon gradually calmed down. Facing such a fully armed mercenary, the three of them, without weapons, would find it difficult to threaten him even if they freed their bound hands.

Moreover, both he and Lohak and Azerion had been hungry and imprisoned for so long, their physical strength was nearly exhausted. In such a situation, three unarmed youths recklessly confronting a mercenary was no different from seeking death.

So should they just run into the wilderness?

Even less feasible.

Leon looked down at the iron chain linking their shackles. This thing was designed to prevent slaves from escaping. The chain connecting the three people's shackles wasn't long; if they ran, they would easily trip over each other and fall.

Besides, how could three hungry youths possibly outrun a mercenary? Even if they didn't stumble, they would be easily caught by the mercenary, who could simply draw his sword and finish them off.

Should they give up?

But after finally getting a chance to leave the cage and distance themselves from the camp full of soldiers, here in the wilderness, if they could run for a while and reach the woods, they might regain their freedom. If they missed this heaven-sent opportunity, what if the place they were being taken to was even more heavily guarded?

As he pondered anxiously, taking advantage of a moment when they rounded a small hill, Leon covertly glanced back at Lohak.

Catching each other's eyes, they could feel the other's barely suppressed anger, seemingly waiting for a signal to act together. This boy, bearing his hatred, would turn and attack the mercenary without hesitation, even with his hands bound.

Leon’s gaze moved past Lohak to the rearmost Azerion. The fair-skinned boy was also quietly observing the mercenary escorting them. He almost immediately noticed Leon's covert glance. At the moment their eyes met, the fair youth gave Leon a firm, subtle nod.

No longer looking to avoid arousing the mercenary's suspicion, Leon bowed his head again. He had already understood the resolve of the two behind him. As long as they made a move, Lohak would need no prompting, and that lad Azerion would also fight desperately alongside them.

If the three wanted to regain their freedom, now was relatively the best chance for success.

Even if the odds of defeating the mercenary were low, they had to risk their lives and give it a shot.

...The most intense fight he'd ever had in his previous life was fencing at a sword club. Now he was about to risk his life playing Spartacus. Had he known, he would have seriously learned some hand-to-hand combat... With a final complaint about the life-and-death pressure he couldn't escape, Leon's heart pounded like a drum.

Suddenly, a faint breeze brushed past him.

——!

An almost imperceptible movement came from his wrist.

The light clicking sound was masked by the clanking of shackles and chains as they walked. If not for the vibration coming from his wrist, Leon might not have noticed it.

He looked in confusion at his wrists bound by the shackles, sensing that the tight, dead weight had relaxed considerably.

An incredulous doubt surged in his mind. Leon tentatively arched his wrists slightly...

Sure enough, he no longer felt the constraint of the locks. The two U-shaped iron cuffs of the shackles actually lifted slightly off his wrists, enough for him to slip free.

Did the shackle's old lock mechanism fail?

Could he be so lucky? Just as he was about to risk everything?

Leon, filled with doubt and uncertainty, pressed his arms down, letting the iron cuffs face upward to conceal the anomaly on his wrists. Before he could feel the sudden ecstasy, a soft, melodious girl's voice echoed faintly in his heart.

"...Only... one chance..."

The sudden voice in his mind startled Leon.

Who was speaking?

The voice continued on its own.

"...Remember this sigil, Issa's Arrow; aim it at your enemy..."

A pair of hazy hands appeared out of thin air in Leon's astonished gaze, like phantoms solidifying.

The glowing hands gracefully and simply traced a set of gestures, then faded away like a dream.

Disregarding his astonishment, Leon quickly glanced at the mercenary behind them.

The mercenary was still focused on leading them forward, showing no sign of noticing the projection that had just appeared in midair.

Leon breathed a slight sigh of relief.

—Who are you?

He tried again to question the voice in his mind.

...No response.

After calling out several times, his questions were like pebbles sinking into a silent lake, with no echo. Leon had to temporarily give up trying to communicate.

He didn't think it was an auditory or visual hallucination, because the shackles on his hands had undoubtedly been undone by a force beyond his understanding.

Then what did 'Issa's Arrow' mean? Use that hand gesture to aim at my enemy?

...Magic?

The simple memories left by the original owner, the hunter's son, offered little knowledge. But as a modern person bombarded by all kinds of fantasy works, Leon, though puzzled, used his imagination to make some guesses.

Perhaps another consciousness, like a soul, was residing in this body, just like him. She used some kind of magic to unlock his shackles, undoubtedly helping him escape.

Leon’s gaze gradually became firm. He had no time for pointless doubts. Whether or not he had magical assistance, he had to seize this opportunity. At least with his hands freed, his chances of survival greatly increased.

As for the hand gesture shown by that mysterious consciousness...

From her words, perhaps it was a spell akin to shooting an arrow? How powerful was it? Could it penetrate the mercenary's chainmail? What was its range?

He knew nothing.

His blood boiled along with his nervous excitement. Leon took a deep breath to steady his heartbeat one last time.

The mercenary had always been walking beside them, staying at the back of the group to watch over the three. Leon knew they had no chance to launch a sneak attack from behind. No matter who acted first among the three, the mercenary would have ample time to react and draw his sword.

So compared to the two behind him, being relatively furthest from the mercenary himself, he was the best person to attract the mercenary's attention.

...

A breeze rustled the wild grasses beside the path.

Leon’s gaze swept over all the relatively flat spots within a step ahead where he could plant his foot.

It's now!

He bent his arms, forcefully pushing off the shackles with his wrists. His hands completely freed from the restraints.

As he stepped forward, Leon suddenly turned around and shouted sharply to Lohak behind him, "Now!"

With his shout, Leon was the first to curve toward the left front, charging at the mercenary, immediately attracting the mercenary's astonished gaze. This distance wasn't enough for Leon to reach the mercenary before he drew his sword. Leon's charge was only to lure the mercenary to face him, creating an opportunity for the other two to attack from the side.

Although momentarily surprised that his companion had unlocked his shackles, the strong and prepared Lohak still turned and charged at the stunned mercenary with the fastest speed of his life.

Azerion was only a beat slower in reacting. The chain of his handcuffs was still linked to Lohak's, so he had to follow Lohak's movement and run toward the mercenary together.

*(In Uria language)* "Damn it! You looking to die?!" Although the mercenary was startled by the sudden outburst of the three slave youths, he didn't panic. He also didn't foolishly face one direction as Leon had hoped.

He reacted swiftly, stepping back two paces. With a swish, his right hand skillfully drew the arming sword at his waist. The moment he had the blade in hand, the mercenary stopped retreating and instead advanced, his face fierce as he raised his sword to strike at Lohak.

Although killing a slave would cause him some loss, the mercenary also knew that only by decisively killing one as an example could he suppress these audacious youths.

Even the rage-filled Lohak felt a bone-chilling fear of death as he saw the blade descending.

No weapon to block, no armor for protection, and not enough distance or space to dodge. Lohak futilely raised his arm; he seemed to see death itself. In a flash, images of his deceased parents' pained faces flashed through his mind, the tear-filled eyes of his sister being dragged away, and the sword blade cutting through his arm and then chopping his head off, blood splattering...

The breeze seemed to slow in midair. Leon felt as if time itself had slowed... He raised his left hand, replicating the mysterious hand gesture with his middle and ring fingers bent. His right hand formed a sword-finger with two fingers extended, pointing toward the mercenary ahead.

Leon didn't even have time to pray whether this strange gesture would work. In an instant, he felt his blood surge throughout his body, rushing toward the fingertips of his left index and little fingers.

His right hand, as if guided by an unknown force, instinctively pulled back...

...Then, he saw a miraculous light.

A blossoming light arrow stirred the wind as it pierced through the air. A dazzling flash burst out along the trajectory pointed by Leon's right fingertips.

In an instant, it arrived.

The light pierced through the mercenary's right arm—Bang—!

The sound of flesh tearing, bones shattering, and the chainmail sleeve breaking was piercingly sharp. The Kantadar mercenary's fierce expression froze on his face.

Pure force spiraled, ripping through flesh and chainmail. The severed right arm was thrown into the air.

"Ahhhh—! Aaaahhh!!—"

At the moment the pain signals reached his brain, the mercenary's eyes bulged in disbelief, unleashing a shrill scream. He wailed, clutching his severed limb as he staggered backward, his ugly face streaming with snot and tears.

Hearing the mercenary's pained howls, Leon hadn't even felt the exhilaration of a successful strike when dizziness overwhelmed him. His vision went black, his body collapsing to the ground, instantly losing consciousness—

......

The severely wounded mercenary retreated step by step. Having brushed past death, Lohak didn't wait for the sword to fall. Charging recklessly, he didn't stop for a moment; the strong youth closed the remaining distance, bodily slamming into the one-armed mercenary and knocking him to the ground.

Azerion was also forced to lose balance and fell with them.

In the moment they fell, Azerion saw the arming sword that had fallen along with the severed arm. He was the first to react, straining against the chain to reach out with both hands.

"—Aaahhh!! You damned little brats! I'll kill you, kill you all!!!" The fallen mercenary struggled violently. Survival instincts momentarily overcame the pain of his severed arm. In the scuffle, he grabbed Lohak's throat in a death grip, his fingers like iron clamps choking the youth until he couldn't breathe.

Lohak hadn't been able to stop the mercenary's dying counterattack initially, but he managed to grasp the dagger on the mercenary's other side at his waist.

Without hesitation, the youth drew the long dagger and stabbed fiercely at the mercenary's side. However, despite using all his strength to thrust, the dagger couldn't penetrate the thick chainmail and padding. Even though the blade tip pricked the mercenary painfully, it didn't make the enraged and terrified man loosen his grip in the slightest.

Until a squelching sound...

Blood spattered.

With a sickening sound of flesh being sliced, the sharp sword point thrust upward from below, piercing the mercenary's jaw into his skull. This fatal blow ended the one-armed mercenary's final struggle.

The dying mercenary's eyes widened; he coughed up blood, twitched a few times, and finally went still.

Seeing this, Lohak raised his hands to break free from the dead mercenary's chokehold, gasping for breath as he turned to look at his companion.

He saw Azerion leaning sideways, his bound hands holding the arming sword he had just grabbed in a reverse grip. By inverting the blade, he had successfully thrust the sword into a gap unprotected by the mercenary's chainmail and helmet during their struggle on the ground.

"Huff... huff... Well done..." Supporting himself as he got up from the corpse, Lohak helped Azerion to his feet, catching his breath while expressing his gratitude.

Azerion stood up with difficulty, looking at the dead mercenary. He felt a mix of post-survival relief and a slight satisfaction from avenging his family.

Now that the crisis was over, the two suddenly remembered to look at Leon, who had fallen not far away.

The youth who had just shot a beam of light from his hand like a divine being was now lying motionless on the ground.

"Hey! Leon! What's wrong?" Lohak hurriedly tried to rush over to check on his companion but stumbled due to the chain.

"Wait, find the key to unlock the shackles!" Azerion was much calmer than he was. He knelt down and rummaged through the dead mercenary's body, quickly finding the simple cylindrical iron key.

The two helped each other unlock their shackles, and the freed Lohak hurried over to the unconscious Leon.

Azerion didn't immediately join him in checking on their comrade. Instead, he squatted down and began stripping the mercenary's body of chainmail, clothing, and all useful items. He knew that their escape had only just begun.