Chapter 6: Step of Decision

As the crossbow bolt pierced the air, Obi-Wan felt a surge of uncontrollable terror and trembling born from his own mounting rage, coupled with a profound sense of helplessness.

He had been suppressing Wang Yu from the very beginning; in technique, strength, and speed, he had completely and utterly outclassed him.

Yet, this accursed man had time and again caused him to fall short just as victory seemed within his grasp.

This time was no different; he had been on the verge of slaying this squire, but damn it, what happened to the knightly code of a fair duel?

He had truly believed this fellow would fight him one-on-one, never suspecting an ambush. Damn it, the way this man fought had deceived him once again!

If one were to ask Wang Yu to critique Obi-Wan’s psychological state after the battle,

he would first say that when facing an enemy, any means are acceptable.

Second, this was the terrifying reality of a calculated trap against an unsuspecting foe.

He and Avia had been plotting against Obi-Wan all along, and this was what truly compensated for the disparity in their raw power.

A fierce willpower might have played a part, but it was not the deciding factor; the quagmire of a trap laid in silence was Obi-Wan’s true guillotine.

Despite the unavoidable sense of powerlessness, the residual fury and a desperate urge to survive drove Obi-Wan to lunge to the side.

However, the enchantment on the crossbow and the suddenness of the ambush meant that even Obi-Wan’s desperate evasion could not save him from harm.

"Sshhh!" The bolt bit into flesh, piercing through Obi-Wan’s body from behind.

Whether by luck or some indescribable sixth sense, although Obi-Wan’s dodge failed to avoid the hidden arrow,

the trajectory happened to miss his vital organs, granting him a sliver of hope.

His powerful musculature prevented the strike from crippling him entirely or rendering him defenseless.

Though it had punched through his back, the bolt was lodged halfway, gripped tight by his dense muscle fibers.

Rolling rapidly and turning, he used his free hand to yank the bolt from beneath his left ribcage.

The searing pain made him tremble uncontrollably, and blood sprayed forth, but he had to remove it; even if it caused secondary trauma, it was better than letting the bolt hinder his movements and lead to another hit.

Turning, Obi-Wan saw the figure standing in the doorway—Avia, holding the crossbow.

The boy’s face was unnaturally pale, his body trembling slightly, his expression etched with fear.

Sweat beaded on his brow, soaking his pale golden hair until it clung to his face.

Facing such a perilous scene, the youth, unaccustomed to danger or sudden crises, felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety and dread.

Yet, his hands did not falter; he remained calm amidst the chaos, a trait Wang Yu deeply admired in him.

Reloading quickly, he pulled the trigger, and the bolt tore through the air like a phantom, streaking toward Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, having just adjusted his posture from the inertia of his dodge, tried to evade again, but he was a fraction of a second too slow.

The bolt pierced his right shoulder—the side holding his blade—and Obi-Wan felt the sword grow heavy in his grip.

The high-intensity clash with Wang Yu had not only exhausted the squire’s stamina but had also drained Obi-Wan, who had been forced to maintain extreme focus.

Now, the symptoms of overexertion were manifesting in Obi-Wan as well.

Pulling the bolt out once more and letting the blood spray, he quickly adjusted his stance.

He had not conceded yet; the damage was still limited, and the non-vital wounds were merely an inconvenience.

If only... if only he could kill the one with the crossbow, he would win. As long as he remained vigilant, he could surely finish Avia before the bolts claimed his life.

The physique of a squire-in-training was still formidable to an ordinary person; his constitution allowed him to keep moving despite two piercing wounds.

Crouching low, he sprinted, watching Avia’s hands as he reloaded, tracking the direction of the weapon.

Just before the bolt was set, he rolled! The projectile grazed his ear, drawing a spray of blood.

The cold sting of pain returned, but Obi-Wan felt a surge of joy; by observing the bolt’s path, he had successfully predicted Avia’s aim.

He rolled behind the table that had been overturned during Wang Yu’s earlier ambush, effectively shielding himself from the shot.

"He’s no professional marksman. Isn't this the noble boy that old mage wanted? How is he here..."

"Damn it, he must have been released by that squire, that bastard!"

Crouching behind the table, Obi-Wan thought frantically, cursing Wang Yu.

Yet, he felt a measure of relief that Avia was an amateur. He could do this; he could kill this boy.

Hiding behind the table, Obi-Wan tore off his blood-soaked shirt. "Three, two, one!" Counting down, he flung the shirt into the air above the table.

The next moment, "Whoosh!" A bolt tore through the air, piercing the flying shirt and pinning it to the wall.

A simple but effective ruse had successfully baited Avia into wasting a shot.

Kicking the table aside, Obi-Wan charged at Avia with all his remaining strength, sword raised.

Noticing the deception, Avia panicked, his hands fumbling as he tried to reload, but he could not speed up.

The high-speed charge closed the distance; just before Obi-Wan entered his striking range, Avia loaded the next bolt and fired!

Obi-Wan was beyond reason now; he dove in a side-roll, ignoring the agony of his wounds.

Because of the proximity, the bolt was harder to dodge, and his simple roll only spared his vitals; the projectile slammed into his chest, bringing a wave of pain and weakness.

But Obi-Wan could no longer care. Kill—that was his only thought. Kill the archer, and everything, everything would end!

His eyes wide, he roared as he lunged at Avia, whose own eyes were filled with terror.

He and Wang Yu had plotted against Obi-Wan, but the man’s superhuman constitution and luck had allowed him to survive the ambush without being incapacitated.

With trembling hands, Avia pulled out the lime powder Wang Yu had given him and flung it at his attacker.

The powder hit Obi-Wan’s wide-open eyes, reacting instantly and causing the roaring man to shriek in even greater agony.

Though Obi-Wan faltered for a heartbeat, he still charged at Avia. He had to kill him; he had to!

The lime could not stop Obi-Wan, who, blinded by pain, continued his desperate assault.

He raised his longsword high; with the strength of a squire-in-training, the sharp blade would slice through Avia’s ordinary body without resistance.

Closing his eyes in despair, Avia felt an indescribable sense of release.

Death? So be it. Perhaps for a rejected, betrayed noble like himself, death was the best destination.

Regret? There was nothing to regret. At least if Wang Yu hadn't saved him, he would have died in that cell.

And truly, in the vast, unforgiving wilderness, could a noble who had lost his servants and guards—a noble who was, in truth, a... could he really survive? Where could he go?

The answer seemed bleak, so perhaps this final struggle was a fitting end.

At least he could help this loyal squire, whom he had admired and envied despite knowing him for only a few hours. Regardless of the outcome, he had tried, and he had fought.

Avia waited for the final pain of death.

Obi-Wan, eyes shut, anticipated the visceral sound of blade meeting flesh.

"Sshhh-crack!" The sound of tearing flesh arrived as expected, but Avia felt none of the anticipated agony.

Opening his eyes, he saw the squire standing before him, his left arm severed, no longer able to bleed.

Obi-Wan’s sword had struck his left arm, embedding itself deep into the forearm.

But the exhaustion had sapped the lethality from Obi-Wan’s strike; the blade was lodged deep in the muscle, failing to sever the limb entirely.

This accursed man, who should have bled to death long ago, had somehow been spurred on by a terrifying will, driving his broken body forward to intercept the blow.

Obi-Wan had yet to realize the gravity of the situation, his face twisted in a mask of profound ecstasy; it was over, finally, finally over.

The villain, forced to squeeze his eyes shut against the stinging lime powder, still believed he had slain the crossbowman, shivering now in the throes of his triumph.

A voice, devoid of strength but laced with a faint smile, drifted from Wang Yu’s lips—no tragic lament, merely a touch of dry mockery.

The man was truly, damnably nonchalant about the prospect of death.

"How did it go? I'm the tank, you're the carry; the tank won't let the carry come to harm before he falls... Avia, the whistle, thank you..."

Blocking a sword strike before the stunned Avia, Wang Yu finished his final words before collapsing, his body surrendering to the pull of gravity.

Obi-Wan’s expression contorted in an instant of uncontrollable rage—why, why was it always this man?

He tugged at his blade, but the bone of Wang Yu’s left arm had wedged the steel tight; his frantic strength could not dislodge it, and the weight of the falling body dragged the exhausted Obi-Wan down with it.

Unable to check the momentum, Obi-Wan fought with a desperate, primal instinct to survive, maneuvering Wang Yu’s body to serve as a human shield against any incoming arrows.

The impact sent Obi-Wan sliding back more than a meter until his spine struck the wooden wall, Wang Yu’s frame perfectly obscuring him.

He exhaled in relief; if he could only evade the next volley, he would still emerge the victor.

But what awaited him was not a lethal arrow, but a sharp, piercing whistle!

The shrill sound tore through the air, echoing out from the cabin, and this anomalous act filled Obi-Wan with an inexplicable, mounting dread.

Struggling to shove Wang Yu’s body aside, Obi-Wan hurried to finish off Avia, the unstable variable, but the thunderous rhythm of hooves struck his ears!

Before he could grasp the nature of the intrusion, the cabin wall was shattered by a massive, powerful form.

A stallion with brown hide, flowing mane, and a pair of horns unknown to common horses burst through the timber, sending splinters flying as it erupted from the wall behind Obi-Wan.

"Crash!" The wall disintegrated, and the debris rained down upon Obi-Wan’s head and shoulders, stinging and sharp.

That was not the worst of it; the horned beast, its intelligent eyes sweeping the room, caught sight of Wang Yu on the floor and the man entangled with him.

A flash of fury crossed the horse’s face, and it charged, front hooves rising high to slam down with crushing force onto the chest of the man struggling to stand!

The immense weight and power dealt a devastating blow to the apprentice knight, and blood erupted from his mouth.

He thrashed with every ounce of his remaining strength, his sword slashing wildly to carve bloody gashes into the horse’s legs, his incoherent screams sounding both grotesque and pathetic.

"Damn you, I don't want to die, I’ll kill you all, you wretched curs, damn you, I’ll kill you, ahhhhh!"

"How can it be me? Why should it be me? You are the ones who should die! Go to hell, you damned things!"

Battered and broken, Obi-Wan unleashed the terrifying, final struggle of a cornered beast, tapping into the full power of a high-level apprentice knight.

With 1.8 times the human limit, he actually forced the horse back, shoving its legs aside as he howled, "It’s not over! I will survive! I will survive!!!"

"No, it is over..." a calm voice, tinged with a trace of sorrow, spoke softly.

In the next heartbeat, Avia’s bolt pierced the skull of the raving, mindless beast, and the roar was silenced forever.

The wretched villain finally fell, blood and gray matter leaking from the hole in his head.

The evildoer had met his end; the shattered skull left no room for the dying beast to struggle, and death and despair were the only companions left for this man of infinite sins.

The horse ignored the dead Obi-Wan, indifferent to the gashes on its legs, and stepped gently toward the fallen Wang Yu.

It lowered its head, sorrow in its intelligent eyes, and licked the pale, blood-stained face of the man...

Avia approached as well; the horse glanced at him but remained unmoved, continuing to lick Wang Yu’s cheek in mourning.

The blood had ceased to flow from Wang Yu’s severed limb and wounds—not because of healing, but because there was no pressure left to pump it, and he had lost too much.

Even with the "bonus period" of high cellular activity, it only granted a capacity for recovery, not a miracle for such catastrophic trauma.

The successive blows had burned Wang Yu’s body to ash; no will, however strong, could drive this barren ruin any further.

The blood loss had left the man deathly pale, yet perhaps due to his cursed nonchalance, his features remained free of any twisted agony...

Avia looked at the man on the brink of death, his stubborn heart stuttering to a halt, and felt only profound shock.

The man’s tenacity was staggering, and the way he had thrown himself into the path of a lethal blade had touched him to the core.

Feeling the heartbeat—already faint—slow even further, Avia’s expression hardened; he would not let this damn fool die here...

Even if it meant using that cursed ability he had sworn never to touch again!

A look of resolve settled upon his delicate, grime-streaked face; the boy’s tension and panic vanished, replaced by a steady, calm purpose.

A faint violet glow appeared on his forehead, then bled into his palms. In a place unseen, the flesh of the boy’s hands began to turn translucent, as if drifting away from reality itself...

Without a second thought, Avia pressed his glowing hands against the chest of Wang Yu, whose breath and heart had all but ceased.

The pale violet light, like the stars of the deep void, illuminated the blood-drenched cabin.