Isan still screamed and thrashed from side to side like a baby in a cradle. Metal clanked, and a squeaking sound grew louder, closer.
I can't let something as little as cutting someone's hand deter me.
I'm the heir to the Ujochi clan, for crying out loud!
So I have to calm down.
Calm down!
Jorel thought, steadying his hand and slowly breathing out.
"Hey, you, stop!" A voice shouted at Jorel.
Who's that?
He raised his head.
They don't learn… do they?
"What happened here?" The man's face scanned the surroundings, the sun trying to reflect off his rusted armor but failing, only Slov's crest visible. His eyes landed on the wailing Isan in the mud.
"Wait… I-Isan?! W-What happened?" The man stepped forward, extending his hand, but stopped midway.
"Blood…" He looked at the mud, tracing the trail back to Jorel's clothes.
"…" The man recoiled, gripping his fist and drawing his sword.
"Till we figure out what happened, you're not going anywhere!" he bellowed, pointing his sword at Jorel.
"And what makes you say that?" Jorel countered, his cape subtly dancing in the breeze.
That same crest on his armor… Is he some sort of authority here?
Jorel's eyes focused on the man's chestplate.
"Nhnn… Come with us! Or we'll use force!" The other guard gritted his teeth.
"Who do you think you…" His gaze shifted downwards to Jorel's shirt.
T-That symbol…
The other guard trembled.
"W-Wait… I don't think…" He tapped the man on his arm.
"What?!" the man shouted.
"H-He's the… The…" The other guard stuttered.
Other peasants pushed past the guards and Jorel, walking towards Isan.
"Quick! Get him to the healer!" one peasant urged, grabbing Isan and waving his hand in the air.
"He's losing blood!" another added, helping to lift Isan. They all joined in, raising him.
Blood still dripped from his hand, and his eyes were watery.
Good, I don't want to see his dirty face ever again!
Jorel scorned, his eyes narrowing.
Isan, his eyelids drooping, glared at Jorel as he was carried past him.
"Hey!" The man snapped his fingers.
"N-No…" The other guard tugged his arm once more.
"Come on, just spit it out already!" he raised his voice at the other guard, flicking his hand violently.
"Hmm…" The other guard squirmed, pursing his lips.
"H-He's the nobleman---the one from the Ujochi clan that came earlier today," he squealed.
"W-What?" The man's raised voice immediately faded.
"Look at the symbols on his shirt---that's the Ujochi clan's insignia." The other guard pointed, slowly backing away.
"H-How are you so sure?" the man asked, his face gradually turning white.
"He was confirmed to be one by the Kumigara himself!" The other guard shook his head, his feet quivering.
"Didn't you hear?!"
"..." The man just stared at the other guard, his grip on his sword loosening.
"I-I'm not dealing with this!" The other guard turned away, his back to them, and ran off in the blink of an eye, his poorly made sword clattering from his waist.
"W-Wait…" The man reached his hand towards the fleeing guard, beginning to sweat.
"You were saying?" Jorel crept closer to the man, his face intimidating. The man quickly spun back and bowed low without a second's hesitation.
"I'm very sorry, sir! Please don't do anything to me!" The man pleaded, tears welling in his eyes, his body trembling, sweat flowing between the plates of his armor. "I'm a single father!" he whimpered.
"Just don't make me like Isan!" His voice shied away.
Make you like Isan?! Hah!
It was even a waste to use a fine weapon like my sword on him, let alone you!
Jorel let out a slight huff of breath, watching the man bow, what seemed like either tears or sweat pooling in the mud around him.
"You can go, but do it quickly. You irritate me," Jorel said, his voice condescending, waving his hand dismissively as if swatting a pestering fly.
The bowed man raised his head, his face full of glee and his eyes almost brimming with tears. He bowed once more and dashed away, scooping up the other guard's discarded sword from the mud. The peasants watched him run.
It is really becoming quite irritating.
Don't they have any sort of vigor in them? All bowing and begging?
I mean that's who and what they're supposed to do, but…
Jorel's thought was abruptly interrupted by the neighing of horses and the creaking of wood as a carriage rumbled onto the path.
"Hmm?" Jorel slowly adjusted his body to look behind him. He saw a carriage, painted a dirtied white with chipped parts, being pulled by frail horses, with men riding them.
"Well, that was quick," Jorel muttered to himself, a smirk playing on his lips. The carriage slowed, the horses resisting the forward thrust, and stopped directly before him.
One of the men on horseback looked around, his eyes meeting Jorel's, catching sight of the Ujochi clan's mark on his shirt beneath his cape.
Must be him… right?
The man thought.
---The end of chapter 18---