The boy's legs tensed, pressing against the horse's sides, forcing it forward.
*Nyeeeeeih!*
"Woah… Woah!" The horse reared, standing upright on its two hind legs, front hooves kicking at the air. The peasants around them looked on, eyes wide.
"Hahaha!" A kid laughed from behind his mother, the sound clear and bright.
The nerve----
The boy glared at the child, suspended in the air.
CLUMP!
The horse's two front legs slammed back to the ground, its muscles firm beneath him.
*Brfff!* *Brfff!*
"Damn horse!" The boy's mouth twisted in frustration as its hooves plopped through the mud. He rode closer to the man, who was now walking away with the group of people, their faces heavy and seldom.
"Hey, wait." The boy reached a hand forward, trying to call out to the man.
"Hmm?" The man paused, turning his head slowly to look.
"Oh, it's you…" His voice was like a heavy stone dragged against dry gravel.
What does he mean "oh it's you"? Do I know him from anywhere or what?
"Wait! I have something urgent I need to talk to you about." The boy closed in, still on his horse.
"Can't you see I'm busy? Sod off!" The man waved his hand at him, dismissing him like a pestering fly.
He's treating me like some insect, as if I'm one of the people he's whipping.
The boy's blood felt like it would burst from his skin as the man continued to walk away.
I've spent too long…
All just for what?!
I can't let him treat me like this!
Who does he think he is?!
He quickly hopped off his horse, his boots slamming into the mud, sending bits flying.
"Hmm!" The boy grunted as he walked towards the man, each step heavy and deliberate.
"Hey!" He caught up to the man and cemented his grip on his wrist. The people around them stared and murmured, some coughing, their wet gasps rivaling the dullness of the mud.
"Oh no… doesn't he know?" One of the people the man had barked at whispered under their breath.
"What's the meaning of this?!" The man's voice rose sharply as he slowly turned his head.
"I said that I needed to ask you something," the boy stated, each word slow and heavy, dripping with thinly veiled anger.
"And I told you to sod the fuck off!" The man shrugged his hand from the boy's grip with a forceful jerk.
The boy bent his head down, his body trembling, not from defeat or fear, but from the immense effort it took to fight every fiber of his being that screamed at him to strike the man.
Does he know who I am?!
Whatever useless position he has doesn't compare to me!
The boy's mind raged, a silent fury that felt like fumes escaping his ears.
"Where's the Kumigara? Where can I find him?" His eyes, deadlocked on the man, finally relaxed, his hand settling on the hilt of his sword.
"The Kumigara…" The man gazed up into the sky for a moment. "I don't know, you happy now?" He grinned, his yellow-stained teeth bared at the boy.
"Bullshit," the boy's mouth said almost instinctively, the word sharp and immediate.
"So what? You're saying I'm lying now?" The man fully turned his body, his gaze hardening. He caressed his whip, then gripped it firmly and pointed it forward.
"Look… I don't know who you are or what you want… But you don't dare speak to me like that! For I am the great Isan!" He unrolled the whip, brandishing it into the air with a flourish.
SNAP----WHIP!
"Damn… Now he's riled up," a woman whispered, skittering away with her child.
"What can that boy do? Against Isan's whip?!" An older woman murmured, sniffing.
"Now… Go away!" Isan commanded, the whip's coiled length dropping into the mud.
The boy's lips remained sealed, his eyes fixed solely on Isan as a cool breeze swept through, making his cape dance like a living thing.
"Isan, was it?" The boy moved closer, slowly drawing his sword from its sheath, the subtle rasp of metal against leather cutting through the air.
"I couldn't even care less who or what you are to this town."
"Why… You little kid!" Isan gripped his whip so hard that a squeezing sound was heard, a faint creak of strained leather.
"Yeah, I am a kid…" The boy's voice was low, almost a whisper, yet it held a chilling edge.
"…Yet you still don't compare to me."
The boy pointed the tip of his sword at the man, and as if on cue, a lone ray of sunlight pierced through the clouds, gleaming off the blade's polished surface.
"And what sort of playful imagination led you to that?" Isan chuckled, raising his whip high above his head.
"It's the imagination that you could never even afford, even if you lived a thousand lifetimes." The boy glared, his gaze directly piercing Isan's iris.
"Hehehe." Isan tightened his jaw, a muscle twitching, and cracked his neck, the sound sharp in the quiet air as the cool wind blew once more.
"Maybe this will teach you some manners!" the man screamed, lashing the whip forward towards the boy.
"Hmm… Pathetic," the boy muttered under his breath, leaning back slightly, just enough to avoid the strike.
What a god awful whip!
---The end of chapter 9---