Traitor Of Humanity 9 Blackened Arrow

20 of these men are elite soldiers raised by the Zefer family, while the one leading them is the Zefer family's lord, Merab Zefer. The soldiers surrounded their lord, protecting him, vigilant of their surroundings as they proceed along.

Today, they are coming back to Haradur City after doing a business transaction at a nearby larger city. The further inland, the more prosperous the cities are. The more prosperous a city is, the better resources it has. Such resources do not only include food, clothing, and technology, but also medicines, elixirs, and weapons. The trip this time is precisely for those latter items.

Considering that the lord of the Zefer family himself made this trip, it can be inferred how valuable the items being transported are. Encased in steel boxes, those items were fastened tightly to the horses' sides.

"The amount purchased this time, coupled with what is in the treasury, should be enough for Seth to use for the next several years…" Merab Zefer thought to himself whilst riding against the wind. The reason why he made this sudden trip this time was mainly to gather more elixirs for his third son's use. With the talent that his third son has revealed, and with the support of the elixirs he had already given him, plus the fact that the boy had never used any elixirs before, Seth should be able to reach the second level of the heroic bearings stage in less than a month.

"Considering how talented Seth is, and how useless my other sons are, the genes of that woman must be quite good..." By "that woman", of course he is referring to Seth's mother, Aki Molley. In recent years, due to how skinny she has been getting, mating with her hasn't been as enjoyable as mating with his wife or his other concubines. Thus, as time went on, he began to neglect her more and more.

But considering the talent that Seth has recently shown him, Merab Zefer pondered. "It will be good If I can get another offspring of such great quality from her. It looks like I will have to "interact" with her more in the future."

But while Merab Zefer was thinking about how to deal with Aki Molley, one of his soldiers suddenly shouted. "Enemies coming from the east!"

Merab Zefer glared in the direction of the sun. When he recognized the man leading the incoming mounted soldiers, he sneered.

"Throm Bilin, maybe if your father were here I'd be a little anxious, but for you to appear here by yourself, don't tell me you're here to offer me your head?"

...

Riding in the middle of his troops, Throm Bilin felt like he was sitting on pins and needles. Though in actuality, he was sitting on the saddle of a horse. The number of troops he has on his side is twice that of the other side's, and the quality of each of their troops do not differ by much, all of them either at, or approaching, the peak of the unforgiving mortality stage, being the elite troops of their respective families. But his opponent is someone that can fight on equal footing even against his father, the lord of his family.

Both his father and Merab Zefer are at the peak of the heroic bearings stage, a level that he himself would still need a long time to catch up to despite having stepped into the same stage himself.

If he were to directly clash with Merab Zefer, he would only be able to put up some resistance before dying. But due to the fact that they are riding horses, unless he is dumb enough to charge directly at him, he would not suffer such a fate.

Humans at the peak of the heroic bearings stage are still not faster than horses. Thus, on the plains, whether one can reach another will depend on the quality of their steeds, and the riding skills of the riders. Luckily for Throm, at least the quality of his steed is no different from his opponent's. Not only that, as a martial artist, the weapon that Throm Bilin specializes in is the bow. To be more accurate, the weapon he uses is a greatbow capable of firing arrows with enough force to pierce through armor. It was a weapon so heavy that only someone as strong as himself, or stronger, could wield it.

As long as he can maintain a good enough range, with his troops as human s.h.i.+elds, Throm is confident that he can one-sidedly attack Merab Zefer.

As long as he doesn't let his guard down, Merab Zefer wouldn't even touch the edge of his clothes. It's just that if he does let his guard down, the consequences could be fatal.

The other reason for Throm's nervousness are the two steel arrows with blackened arrowheads and differently colored fletchings within his quiver. The number of chances he has are few, and each chance was expensive. He must not screw up!

Throm Bilin took in a deep breath. It was time for this mission to begin. He ordered in a low voice. "Surround them!"

…

"D*mn!" Throm Bilin cursed. The sight in front of him was aggravating. His opponent, Merab Zefer was cutting down one of his troops after another, starting from the very moment that both sides clashed.

Throm Bilin's troops surrounded Merab Zefer's, while Merab Zefer decided to have his troops stab straight out of the encirclement, with the goal of taking home Throm Bilin's head as a souvenir.

Protected by his guards, Throm Bilin notched his first arrow for a warm-up shot, aiming it at Merab Zefer's head. Letting loose his fingers, the warm-up shot was released… and as expected, it was cut down as soon as it reached the range of Merab Zefer's saber.

Throm Bilin took a deep breath. At the very least, it seems that today, his aim is not off. What he needs now is patience, enough patience to wait for an opening in his target's defenses, whilst at the same time, watching one subordinate after another throw their lives away.

In every clash of weapons between one of his peak unforgiving mortality stage martial artist subordinates and Merab Zefer, his subordinate's weapon would be knocked back facing the overwhelming brute strength of a peak heroic bearings stage martial artist, before that subordinate is cut down by Merab Zefer's second slash. The armors they wore could slow down the blade, but were unable to block it from cutting through. Those that were lucky would be knocked off their horses and fall to the ground below after having been seriously injured. Those whom were unlucky would have been wounded so deeply that they died before they even hit the ground.

Throm's other subordinates, fighting the subordinates of Merab Zefer's, fared better, often getting entangled with their opponents, or suffering lighter wounds whilst wounding their opponents as well. But seeing their allies being cut down so easily by the enemy leader caused their morale to lower.

At this point, the encirclement was already broken. Throm Bilin's side managed to not lose out much in the initial clash thanks to having taken the more advantageous formation at the beginning despite the disparity in their leaders' levels, but if this battle goes on indefinitely, Throm Bilin's side will definitely lose.

Right now, both side's horses are running parallel. A blackened arrow has already been drawn on Throm Bilin's greatbow. Steering his horse with only his legs, he patiently waited until the exact moment when Merab Zefer cut down one of his human s.h.i.+elds. That extremely short time frame where the saber was still lodged in a man's red flesh, was when Throm released his bowstring!

Whizz!

One of Throm Bilin's only two blackened arrows, shot directly toward Merab Zefer's neck. The arrowheads were particularly sharp, and as long as they even graze Merab Zefer's flesh, Throm Bilin will have won.

The arrow flew faster than the wind, at a speed impossible to see with a normal human eye. However, Merab Zefer did not even look at it, before letting out a harrumph. Having just sliced through both flesh and armor, his saber was slow in rising back, while his current posture was not one that could easily dodge that arrow. Thus, letting go of the reins, with his other hand, he grabbed the body of the man he just cut, just as it was falling to the ground and used it to s.h.i.+eld himself.

STAB!

The blackened arrow harshly stabbed into the skull of the human s.h.i.+eld from behind, instantly ending the already dying life.

"F***!" Throm Bilin cursed again. What an aggravatingly high reaction speed that man has.

But it wasn't over yet.

"My G.o.d!" Throm Bilin cried. The current scene betrayed his belief. That brute, Merab Zefer did not let go of his subordinate after using him as a s.h.i.+eld against his arrow, and instead whirled him in the air before throwing him in his direction!

Common sense would say that doing such a ridiculous action on horseback would throw the horse off-balance and can even make the rider fall off, but Merab Zefer did it anyway. Either he had no common sense, or he did not care even if he trips and injures his horse.

But Throm Bilin could worry less about the logic now. The corpse of his subordinate traveled through the air and slammed into his horse before he could make any move to dodge, causing Throm Bilin himself to fall off as his horse toppled over.

"Young Lord!" His subordinates cried before they turned their horses back to save their young lord. But by then, Merab Zefer was already urging his horse towards the fallen Throm Bilin.

In his desperation, Throm Bilin drew the last blackened arrow from his quiver, nocked it on his greatbow, and fired it with barely any aim at the incoming Merab Zefer.

Merab Zefer laughed. What was this cheap shot? The smile on his face grew increasing sinister as he prepared to slash his saber down at the fallen Throm Bilin, ignoring the arrow that flew past his right side.

Throm Bilin felt despair. He could see the saber coming for his head. He did not even have the time to roll over, let alone stand and run. What flashed before his eyes the moment before his death was not his life from the moment he was born until now, nor was it his aspirations as the future lord of the Bilin family. What he thought of, was his youngest daughter, the only one among his children that has yet to marry. His sons have all already set on their paths, having grown up. His other daughters have already been entrusted into the hands of capable men. It's just his immature youngest that he still worries about.

"…Irene, father wishes you a happy life." Saying his last prayer, Throm Bilin was about to close his eyes as the saber's sharp edge closed in on him.

But at that last moment, Throm Bilin heard a wretched groan.

"AAARRRGGGHHH!!!" It was a groan of utter pain.

The sound didn't come from him, because Throm Bilin knew that he felt no pain. Instead, what he heard was the scream go by as a horse sped past him.

"What…" Throm Bilin heard the sound of something slamming and rolling against the ground a distance behind him. Turning around, he saw his would-have-been killer, Merab Zefer, covered in dust and curled up on the ground, screaming in pain.

"It… it hit? Ha… Hahahaha! As expected, a foul man meets a foul end. Merab Zefer, your final day has come. Remember that the one who killed you is this Throm Bilin!" Standing up, Throm Bilin laughed out loudly, the feeling of death's embrace having left him.

"Oh? You're still alive? How tenacious." Throm was surprised to find that after having screamed his lungs out, Merab Zefer still managed to raise his head to glare at him with bloodshot eyes. Those eyes were filled with so much hate that one would think the person being looked at by them had killed the owner of those eyes' parents.

"Hm… that poison was supposed to be able to kill a heroic bearings stage martial artist, but I guess being at the peak of the stage allowed you to just barely survive. No matter, You are obviously in no condition to fight. Before your troops circle back, I'll deliver you the finis.h.i.+ng blow!"

Drawing his sword, Throm Bilin gleefully slashed downwards at the groveling Merab Zefer. To personally experience the pleasure of cutting off the head of a long hated foe, and to return the experience that he suffered when he almost got his head hacked off by Merab Zefer's saber, Throm Bilin foolishly neglected using the bow that he excels at, and instead chose to use the sword that he has less attainments in. In all his elation, he forgot one simple truth. The moment a beast is cornered is the moment that it is most dangerous.

Soon, another bloodcurdling scream rang out as blood flew into the air.

Throm Bilin's sword fell out of his hands as he staggered backwards, with his face expressing shock, and a terrifying gash opened through his stomach. Through his clothes, one can see the broken chainmail and b.l.o.o.d.y organs beneath.

Throm Bilin coughed out blood. If it weren't for his chainmail and the fact that Merab Zefer could not gather any strength for a step-in, the upper half of his body could very well have been severed from his bottom half.

Merab Zefer stabbed his b.l.o.o.d.y saber into the ground, propping his body up. His legs were wobbling the whole time.

In the end, he could not maintain his balance and fell back down. Still, his bloodshot eyes continued glaring at Throm Bilin with venomous hate, as if burning the man's image into his retinas.

It was at this moment that Throm's troops came back. They immediately grabbed their badly injured young lord and sped off, not daring to attempt to finish off Merab Zefer no matter how weakened he looked. The aura of madness around the man caused fear to instinctively rise within their hearts…