The Sword Of The Fire Dragon

Saving Hole

"Stop, you bastard!" shouted Darsa as he kept running after Arya. His breath was heavy, matching the quick pace of his footsteps.

Thirty meters ahead, Arya's heart pounded like a war drum beaten repeatedly. The handsome young man did not glance back even once to see how close Darsa was behind him.

Arya ran with all his might. His only thought was how to escape from the clutches of those who wanted to sell him.

"Stop, Arya! Don't run!" Darsa shouted again.

Arya was the name the young man had given to the people who had captured him. In truth, he didn't remember his real name or where he came from. He remembered nothing except waking up suddenly on the banks of a fast-flowing river.

While searching for food to fill his growling stomach, the human trafficking syndicate found and captured him.

The gap between Arya and Darsa gradually narrowed. Physical ability and combat skills clearly made the difference. Arya was a young man with no knowledge of martial arts. Although his physique was strong and upright, it was not the result of any training but rather a natural gift from birth. Moreover, his empty stomach—he couldn’t even recall the last time he ate—further weakened his steps.

Darsa, on the other hand, was a trained warrior, even if an ordinary one. His physical condition was far better equipped to endure exhaustion.

Still running, Arya glanced back. His instincts were right; the gap between them was closing rapidly.

"I can't let myself get caught again!" he screamed internally, trying to reignite his fading resolve.

But determination alone wasn't enough without physical strength to back it up. Eventually, a powerful kick from Darsa sent the seventeen-year-old crashing and rolling across the ground covered with dry leaves.

Thud!

Arya let out his first cry of pain. Exhaustion, hunger, and thirst melded into one, tearing through his body like fiery needles. Darsa's kick to his back felt like being stung by a swarm of wasps.

"You bastard!" Darsa glared at Arya. "If it weren’t for those two protecting you, I would've killed you by now! You're nothing but trouble!" he spat angrily.

Arya remained silent, not responding. His mind raced, searching for a way to escape Darsa’s grasp.

Moments later, five members of the human trafficking syndicate arrived, catching up with Darsa.

"We should take him back now, Darsa. If you keep beating him, I’m afraid Barda and Restu will be the ones punishing you," one of the newcomers said, casting a glance at Arya, who lay motionless on the ground.

Still seething with rage, Darsa snapped back, "You deal with him, Topan. Keep him away from me, or I might lose control and kill him!"

"Fine, I’ll handle him. You should head back first. Besides, it looks like the boy has passed out," replied Topan, his eyes fixed on Arya’s body.

Darsa exhaled sharply, irritated, before walking away. Topan approached Arya’s lifeless form, crouching down to check his condition.

Three members followed Darsa, leaving the area, while one stayed behind to assist Topan in case they needed to carry Arya.

Topan shook his head in frustration at the situation that had delayed their journey. He also silently resented Darsa’s temperamental behavior. It wasn’t the first time Darsa had beaten up victims they intended to sell.

Arya, meanwhile, was waiting for the right moment to escape. Feigning unconsciousness, he closed his eyes while his mind worked furiously to find an opportunity.

"What a mess," Topan muttered with a heavy sigh as he crouched near Arya to check his pulse.

Arya slightly opened his eyes when he felt someone gripping his left wrist. The first thing he saw was the sword hanging at Topan’s waist.

This, he thought, was the chance he’d been waiting for. Arya waited for Topan to drop his guard before acting.

"Broto, come over here!" Topan called out to his companion.

Seizing the moment when Topan was distracted, Arya reacted swiftly, grabbing the sword at Topan’s waist and plunging it into his abdomen.

Aaargh!

Topan screamed, staggering backward with the sword still lodged in his stomach, clutching at it in shock.

"You…!" Topan gasped before collapsing onto the ground.

Arya wasted no time. He ran with what little strength he had left. This was his final chance to escape. If he were caught again, Darsa would likely kill him.

Broto was stunned by the sudden turn of events. Summoning all his strength, he shouted for Darsa and the others.

"Darsa! The boy escaped!" Broto yelled, pointing at Arya sprinting away.

Darsa and the three others turned upon hearing Broto’s call. Without hesitation, they rushed back to the scene.

"Bastard!" Darsa growled when he saw Topan’s lifeless body. "Chase him and kill him! Don’t let him get away!"

The five members of the human trafficking syndicate ran after Arya, swords drawn. They no longer intended to capture him alive. Vengeance for Topan’s death was now their sole focus.

Arya was internally shocked by the killing he had committed. He never imagined himself capable of taking a life, let alone a human’s. Even killing an animal would have given him pause.

"Stop, scum! You’ll pay for my friend’s death!" Darsa shouted, running furiously after Arya.

Overwhelmed with rage, Darsa disregarded Barda’s orders to capture Arya alive. He was ready to justify the murder with Topan’s death.

Once again, the distance between Arya and his pursuers began to shrink. Without mercy, Darsa, now within striking range, swung his sword, the blade slashing across Arya’s back.

"Die!"

Aaagh!

Arya screamed as the blade tore through his flesh, leaving a wide, gaping wound. Blood flowed freely from the injury, soaking his back.

Despite the agony, Arya refused to stop. He kept running until he unknowingly stepped into a hidden hole resembling an underground cave.

Aaaaaakh!

Arya’s scream echoed before disappearing into the darkness below.

Darsa and the others skidded to a halt at the edge of the wide hole.

"It looks deep. There’s no way he could’ve survived that," Darsa remarked, tossing a rock into the abyss.