Chapter 87 - Caught

In the previous chapter, the trio ventured to a nearby village, where Mingan persuaded an elderly couple to let him use their kitchen to prepare a delicious meal for Orb. The meal was successfully concluded, and the trio continued their journey, eventually arriving at the port of Hydorum.

* * *

As the setting sun cast a warm glow over the Hydorum Port, the three companions arrived and were greeted with a salty breeze that swept through the bustling marketplace located east of the port.

Tippa enthusiastically led the exploration, darting quickly among the colorful stalls lining the sides of the market, where vendors sold their goods to curious tourists. Mingan and Orb followed behind.

Mingan did not forget to describe the place to his blind companion, who walked beside him. He described the lively taverns, the winding streets illuminated by lanterns, the children running with hands full of candy, the fresh fish shimmering on ice slabs, the various clothing displayed with vibrant fabrics, and piles of sweets and sugar-coated fruits reflecting the evening lights.

When the scent of caramel-covered cakes attracted Orb, he cautiously walked toward one of the stalls, with Mingan walking alongside him eagerly, being a lover of sweets himself.

The two, forgetting about Tippa for a moment, lingered long before the stall as Mingan described the varieties, colors, and flavors to Orb. Despite Orb’s desire to try the freshly baked cakes, he could not voice it.

Mingan could tell that his blind companion’s eyes were sad behind the mask.

“Wouldn’t you like to taste the local cake, Orb?” Mingan nudged him, curious.

Orb shook his head, denying, and said with a tinge of embarrassment, “Maybe another time.”

“I have the money, don’t worry,” Mingan insisted.

Orb looked toward Mingan hesitantly.

“What’s the harm in indulging a little? I want one, too.”

Orb finally gave in.

“Alright. Thank you, Mingan,” He shifted his gaze to the row of cakes before him. “Can I get a vanilla-flavored cake?”

Mingan’s eyes sparkled with happiness as he looked at the vendor.

“Ma’am, two pieces, please.”

After he handed the lady some coins, he received two pieces of cake wrapped in paper, gave Orb his share, and the two turned to leave.

“SWEETS?” Tippa suddenly intervened, “I left you for five minutes, and this what you planned to do? Couldn’t you wait to have dinner first?” Tippa loudly disapproved.

“You’re right,” Mingan quickly affirmed. “But we would like to have the cake now.”

“Tippa, they taste better when they are warm,” Orb added, confident that he would convince the grumpy, short man.

Tippa shifted his gaze between the two, his expression stern.

“No, Orb! Mingan is still in a sensitive growth stage. So don’t teach him bad habits.”

“I—see,” Orb’s voice carried a hint of disappointment while Mingan pursed his lips.

“What’s with the long faces?” Tippa grumbled. “Don’t you two know that excessive consumption of sweets causes tooth decay and weight gain?”

“But we didn’t overdo it,” Orb shook his head while walking. His hand is still holding the cake wrapped in paper.

“You will, Orb, if I leave the two of you unsupervised.”

The sight of the three walking together was striking. Despite Mingan’s towering height and massive frame, he walked with agile steps while holding his cake wrapped in paper. Tippa, short in stature with fiery red hair that glowed under the lamp lights like flames, walked between his two companions, scolding them with his small voice. Orb, the blind one, wore a red mask and held a white cane fused with gemstones.

“MINGO!!!”

Tippa scolded Mingan, who shoved the cake into his mouth in one swift motion and swallowed it without chewing.

“How could you eat it when we agreed it would be after dinner? You even swallowed without chewing?”

“We did not agree on anything,” Orb thought. He smiled, amused to learn about his companion’s minor betrayal.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist …,” Despite the stiffness of his features, Mingan felt truly sorry. He even stopped walking to allow Tippa to stand in front of him and scold him. The two left Orb standing alone a few steps next to them.

Orb, who was happy to have a simple piece of cake he had not tasted in years, held it in its paper wrap in one hand while his other hand rested on his cane, listening to Tippa scolding Mingan.

It was only a few minutes, but he felt Tippa’s firm rebuke was not harsh or hurtful. It was as if he were an older brother to them, wanting to give them advice out of genuine concern.

* * *

Suddenly, Orb heard the crack of a whip and instantly jumped in shock, the cake falling out of his careful grasp. Before receiving another real blow, Tippa rushed to stand by his side, instinctively taking out his large red scissors and readying himself to cut the vicious stripes while Mingan positioned himself behind Orb and Tippa.

The three stood in the middle of the road facing Vermon, whose sudden appearance alarmed them. He stepped forward, crushed Orb’s cake with his foot, then looked at them with sparks flying from his eyes as he put back his whip, reluctant to have any stripe cut by Tippa’s sharp weapon. He was panting, his breaths heavy, not from physical exertion but from a terrible anger that filled his chest and shook his limbs.

Without hesitation, Vermon released his red chain from his hand to restrain Orb, confident it was not susceptible to getting cut like his whip. Before it could reach its target, Tippa intercepted it effortlessly with his scissors, cutting it in half.

That, Vermon did not expect, yet he instantly released another chain from his other hand. Mingan intercepted and caught it with his hand, stepping forward toward Vermon to engage him in physical combat.

“What’s going on?” Orb asked, his heart pounding nervously.

“Vermon tried to capture you with red chains, but Mingan is keeping him busy,” Tippa responded, taking his place next to Orb.

A crowd began to gather, drawn by the spectacle unfolding before them. The curious onlookers murmured amongst themselves, some nervous about the intensity of Mingan and Vermon’s fight, others simply curious.

Mingan swiftly surged forward, with his right fist clenched, and hit Vermon’s left temple. The latter was stunned by the speed and the sudden unforeseen strike, which caused him to stagger back several steps, momentarily disoriented.

His hand instinctively grabbed Mingan’s arm like an iron clamp and yanked him vigorously toward him before driving his elbow into Mingan’s spine with brutal force.

Mingan grimaced in pain but refused to fall completely on the ground. Instead, he supported his weight with one arm before swinging his right leg powerfully and striking Vermon’s knee from the side. The boy broke Vermon’s knee neatly and let him fall to the ground on his uninjured knee, grimacing in terrible pain.

Vermon’s wounded knee and pride eclipsed his judgment, so he instantly vanished from Mingan’s line of sight, only to reappear behind him with a thunderous crash. Both Arkosian fists landed on Mingan’s head with force, mercilessly smashing him into the ground.

Within those few seconds, Mingan lay stunned on the ground; Tippa attempted to assist him, but before he could move away from Orb, a sudden dark object descended from above. With a swift and heavy thud, a black sword plunged into the ground between the two young men.

Tippa, Mingan, and Vermon froze, their eyes staring at the unexpected intrusion. The unusually long-hilted, thin blade seemed to be carved entirely of an ordinary stone but cast a sinister shadow over the ground. It ended with a thick cross-guard and a diamond-shaped pommel engraved with the sword’s name, Qadhi.

To ordinary people, the black sword would be mistaken for a toy because it could change its real weight to that of wood if touched by anyone other than its rightful owner. However, the sword’s true power could only be unleashed by its master, Akinos.

In his hands, the black-stone sword turned into the most dangerous weapon; once light as air to others, it became as heavy as a massive rock, with a razor-sharp edge capable of slashing with deadly speed and precision through flesh and bone.

As Akinos rarely summoned Qadhi, the sword’s appearance meant he was either serious or in a bad mood. He did not need to speak; his action caused Vermon to instinctively step back, leaving Mingan on his knees before cautiously retreating to where Orb stood.

“Mingan, are you alright?” Tippa inquired.

“Hn,” the tall young man nodded reassuringly despite his bruised face and bleeding nose. Tippa silently lent him a cloth to wipe his bleeding face.

Still rooted to the ground, Qadhi began shaking and emitting the sound of metal clashing against metal; it was loud enough to reverberate across the entire market.

This caused some of the crowd to back away in confusion, eventually leaving in unspeakable dread of its nature.

However, Akinos, who materialized atop the back of his black horse, Erarof, instantly commanded his sword.

“Not today, Qadhi!”

* * *

The Arkosian prince gestured to his sword to extract itself from the ground and return. Hence, the black blade swiftly flipped and thrust itself toward Akinos, but the ignorant spectators could not help but make a collective gasp, dreading the menacing object that would stab the prince.

Yet, to their astonishment, upon touching the fabric of Akinos’s cloak, the sword vanished instantly into thin air, leaving Akinos unharmed, looking as graceful and composed as always.

Akinos, unconcerned about his surroundings, turned toward his friend and mentally scolded him.

“I explicitly instructed you to wait, Vermon!”

“But Akinos,” Vermon protested, “the mere sight of them indulging in sweets and enjoying their time after what they’ve done to me— is enraging, maddening—It’s unbearable!”

“I haven’t forgotten! I’m warning you for the last time not to sabotage my mission, Vermon, son of Uthus!”

Addressing Vermon by his full name carried a weight of formality. It indicated Akinos’s rare but simmering anger.

Vermon could not evade the rebuke, the anger, the formality with which his only friend and lord spoke to him. Thus, he straightened his posture and responded audibly but reverently:

“As you command, my lord.”

Vermon, breathing through his nose, tried to calm his raging emotions at the sight of his runaway slave and his two accomplices. His gaze shifted to Orb, whose shoulders tensed visibly in the presence of both Vermon and the prince in the place.

* * *

End of Chapter