Darkness had claimed the sky; the night was nearing its deepest hour.
The bandits, the captured villagers, and Edward all stared at Elias in stunned silence. Hedric barked at one of his men, "What are you waiting for, you idiot? Kill the brat already!" and shoved the swordsman forward.
The man swiftly raised his blade, aiming straight for Elias' neck. Elias didn't even flinch.
"Elias, run! Now—" Edward shouted, but his voice was cut off.
The sword had snapped in half. The hilt remained in the man's hand, but the blade was gone. Shocked, the bandit looked at Elias—and then screamed. He stumbled backward and collapsed, trembling.
"What the hell happened? What did you see in a mere child that scared you so damn much?" Hector shouted furiously.
The fallen bandit tried to speak, eyes still locked on Elias. "H-His eyes... th-they…" he stammered.
When Elias stepped forward, the man screamed again.
"Stay away! Don't come near me!"
Elias stood with his back to the crowd. For a moment, silence ruled.
Then, with a slight flick of his hand, the terrified bandit's head was severed clean from his shoulders.
Everyone froze, stunned.
It was a Wind Blade technique—a deadly slicing magic typically wielded by Second or Third Tier Wind Mages. How could a child this young manage such a feat? And more importantly, how did a mere commoner know such techniques?
All eyes briefly turned to Edward. But he was just as shocked, clueless.
Elias turned to face the crowd. Screams erupted.
Though just months shy of his sixth birthday, Elias' eyes had turned into hollow, pitch-black voids—as if his eyes had been gouged out. A wide, unsettling grin stretched across his face. The moment he released his aura, he began walking toward Hedric.
"What are you standing there for, you fools?! Kill him already!" Hedric roared, a mix of rage and panic in his voice.
The bandits charged.
Elias moved like a ghost of death. Three of the largest men were cleaved in half at the waist by his Wind Blades. Within seconds, over ten corpses hit the ground, limbs missing, blood pooling. Step by step, he advanced, his lifeless gaze fixed on Hedric like a predator ready to devour its prey.
A whirlwind of air circled him, slicing through anyone who dared approach. Elias walked forward, leaving only corpses in his wake.
Then suddenly—he stopped. His head jerked, and he stumbled, gripping it with both hands.
While confusion swept over the scene, a sly grin crawled across Hedric's face.
"So… it's a Transformation Technique…"
Transformation Techniques push elemental energy to its peak, forcing the body into an altered state. The user can meditate while standing and access unlimited sangra—but it demands mastery of both elemir and sangra. And the duration depends on how much elemental energy the body can withstand. If his eyes alone have changed, then… he hasn't mastered it. He's lost control of his mind.
But a boy this young… to use such a technique… a golden goose just landed in my lap.
Meanwhile, Elias—who had already torn through fifty men—now stood before Hedric.
Quickly grabbing Clara, Hedric noticed Edward rushing from the left with a thunder-infused blade. In a flash, Hedric trapped Edward inside a thick ice barrier, then formed a triple-layered ice prison around Elias.
Turning to Edward, he conjured a dagger and held it to the unconscious Clara's throat.
"Listen to me, bad boy," Hedric said, voice cold and cutting. "Move, and your wife dies. Understood?"
"No! Okay, okay! Please—don't!" Edward shouted, dropping his swords and raising his hands.
"Listen closely, you damned fool. Your son… he's not in control anymore. Leave him be, and he'll tear us both apart."
Edward turned to Elias—just in time to see him shatter the thick ice with his bare hand and pierce a man's throat with his fingers. That same twisted grin still curled his lips.
"What do you want from me? You want me to calm him down? Or just stand here and do nothing?!" Edward snapped.
"I want to make a little deal, my dear friend," Hedric said with a devilish smirk. "Either you kill me and give up your wife, or—"
"Or what? Let you take my wife and unborn child?!" Edward roared.
"Hah. As always, you never let me finish. Now shut up and let me speak."
"Fine! Speak, damn you!"
"You either give up your wife and unborn child… or," he pointed at Elias, "you hand him over to me."
"Don't be ridiculous, Hedric. He's my son too!" Edward protested. But a vision from days ago flashed in his mind—the dream. The prophecy.
Damn it! I thought it was just a dream…
The storm inside him swelled.
What should I do? He's my son! If I betray him, I'd be no better than a father selling his child. But Clara… I can't lose her. Or our baby. Damn it! This choice… this is worse than hell!
If I hand him over… maybe they'll live. But can I live with myself afterward? Can I carry that shame?
"And what do you think the kingdom would do to a father who hides a mage child?" Hedric added, his voice steely, lips curled in that sly smirk. "If I report you, the royal army will be here in days. They'll execute you and your wife, and take the boy away."
"Damn you! And how do I know you'll actually leave once you have him?" Edward shouted, glancing again at Elias—who had now dropped all Wind magic and begun attacking like a beast. He crushed one man's skull with his bare fist and gouged another's eye out.
"I swear on the Fredross name. Besides… I've only got twenty or thirty men left, as you can see."
Hedric pressed the ice blade harder against Clara's neck. Blood trickled down.
"Now choose! Will you save this damn monster... or Your wife and unborn child?"
Edward sighed deeply. Hedric may be a liar, but when he swears on his family, he never breaks his word… And he's right. He has at most thirty-six men left. Now it's thirty-five… he thought, watching Elias crush another man's skull.
I guess he's finally reaching his limit. It's a miracle he's held out this long...
What should I do? If I hand Elias over to this scum... I'll be turning my own son into a slave. And in this world, even animals are treated better than slaves...
"Will the king leave me alone after this?" Edward finally asked, still hesitating.
"After this attack, he'll likely assume you're dead. And even if he doesn't, go back, apologize, and re-enlist—you'll be forgiven. You're just as valuable to the kingdom as I am, Ed."
At last, tears welled up in Edward's eyes as he lowered his head.
"Alright… I'll give you Elias."
At that moment, Elias, drained of energy, lost his balance and dropped to his knees. A few seconds later, he pushed himself back up. Hedric now had only thirty-four men remaining.
Elias turned to his father. His eyes carried a strange awareness, as if he understood everything. Then he smiled, a smile that seemed to say, "It's okay, Dad. Don't blame yourself." He walked over to Clara, gently touched her forehead...
Then collapsed.
The trade was made. All the captured villagers were freed. No one truly knew why Elias was so valuable.
But Edward… Despite that final smile his son gave him, he would never forgive himself for the rest of his life.