The Last Primal

Chapter 488 - 488 - Trap Or…?



Chapter 488 - 488 - Trap Or…?

*SWOOSH*

A shining, curved bladed metal sailed horizontally across the sudden darkness with frightening speed. Its aim was to separate the first unprepared intruder's head from the rest of his or her body.

??

From the speed, the momentum, and from the might that the sudden strike launched from such a prepared ambush would have been enough to catch many unprepared and spell out an early demise for any of the ordinary townsfolk, be it trained or otherwise.

Yet, unfortunately for those lying in wait and hatching such a sinister course of action, the boy they've met was anything but ordinary. Without a change in his usual, calm demeanor, Aiden's right hand suddenly blurred, coming to oppose the cold assailant.

The prepared strike came to an abrupt halt as the tip of the saber-looking weapon was caught between Aiden's right thumb, index, and middle finger instantly diminishing all the carried force within. 

A grunt could be heard from the right side of the door, as the trunk-like hairy hand of a man was slowly revealed as the light from outside shined on it.

Ignoring the figure being caught in this awkward predicament, Aiden's attention was focused on the dark, unlit depths of the building. His face not changing, still retaining that easy-going smile of his, he asked out in a calm but inquisitive tone.

"Unless you want me to make a move right now and make you lose one of your men, I suggest you end this charade and reveal yourself old man."

His words caused shocked, surprised yelps and gasps to erupt from behind him, whilst a thin smile emerged on the elderly butler's expression. 

'Just like the Mistress said… This boy is unique!' He remarked inwardly, keeping his stoic posture on the outside. He didn't say a word, and let the two groups get to each other by their own accord. He was either aware of the ploy beforehand, or just didn't care, as he kept standing without seemingly a care of what was happening.

"Grmph… Let… go!" The ambushing figure hiding in the shadows to the right of the door groaned amidst his futile attempts to tug or pull his blade free from the seemingly nonchalant hold of the boy. Yet, no matter how much force he exerted, how hard he tried, it was as if his blade was plunged deep into a stone wall; he couldn't break away and was stuck in this uncomfortable dilemma until the other party felt otherwise.

Yet Aiden, though didn't let go of the weapon, he didn't do anything against the figure either. The reason was simple: Through his system's mapping feature and his scanning, sensory abilities, he was aware of the prepared 'trap' long before they marched in. 

Normally an attack like this would be also shrouded in a dense layer of coldness. A rigid aura, a domain that carried the merciless, vile will of its owner: Killing Intent. The intent, the wish not just to cause harm, but to straight-up kill the opponent if possible.

Yet, in this case, there was no such aura lingering around the room. None of the dozen-so figures hiding in the shadows radiated anything like that. Sure, there were uncomfortable, not so friendly emotions radiating from most of them, none of them crossed that imaginary line and transformed into something dangerous. 

Also, the now-familiar feeling of corruption, the darkness was not present in any of them, they were still ahold of themselves and hasn't been twisted by the lingering whispers coming from the shadows.

Though from the elevated, chaotic thumping of his heart, the assailant to their right was in an agitated state, it was most likely just a rise of his arrogance due to his trampled pride. There was no desire to kill coming from him, the blows of the rigid cold didn't come from his direction, thus Aiden didn't bother taking any action.

It was obvious that this trap was set up so that this rough team of veterans could get some early information out from their newly added compatriots.

Suddenly, as if to answer Aiden's question, a sense of dread, danger-filled the senses of the team of youth: from amidst the depths of the dark room, suddenly the tip of the spear appeared as it was lounged at Aiden's head!

With a displeased frown suddenly flashing across Aiden's face, he jumped into action once again.

He clenched his hand, shattering the fine steel blade caught by him as if it were mere glass causing a wave of yelps coming from the dark. Yet before anybody could react, his right hand blurred again, catching the impending doom whistling towards him.

This time, however, his action didn't stop by merely blocking the makeshift javelin; no, with the same swift motion, he spun the weapon at its center, then with a flick, Aiden threw it back whence it came from!

The whole action was fluid, and neigh instantaneous. Most couldn't even discern what happened, other than the weapon suddenly changing course and traversing with an even greater might from where it came from.

In the next moment, a bright shine filled the dark, unlit barracks. The metallic shine of a shield was swiftly raised to block the thrown attack.

The projectile arrived in an instant; the power it was returned was incomparable to the flimsy attempt. 

*CLANK!*

As it crashed into the glowing, bright surface of the hand-held silvery barrier, a loud, ear-shattering metallic clank reverberated in the room. From the sparks that were spawned from the two opposing' forces continued collision the silhouette of a brawny, buff man was revealed. 

His face contorted into a snarl as he pulled all his mind, his focus into absorbing the fierce blow. The generated wind blew against his shoulder-length, white hair and braided, white beard. The outline of a deep gash -either a claw mark of a fearsome beast or perhaps a slash of a sword of a bested opponent-, ran across his face, ending just above the left side of his lips, even going through his crooked, beaten nose.

Though it was hidden from plain sight, from his firm stance as he held the shield now with both of his hands and from his slightly bent knees as it tried to find a firmer hold of the floor beneath him, lest he would be thrown back. It was clear that he was putting all of himself into trying to absorb this surprisingly brutal blow, causing another wave of shock and surprise-filled gasps to come from around his figure.

Meanwhile, on the other side, the man that was supposed to launch the ambush at the youngsters has fallen down on his butt on the ground, looking ahead at strange, lean, long dark-haired youngster with utter disbelief plastered on his face. 

He couldn't understand what happened. Where did his weapon go? How did the boy destroy it with such ease? Was that maybe a fluke? Was it a hidden skill? Was he fallen into a ploy, played with, and be thrown away?!

His pride, his arrogance, that he felt was well earned through the many years of experience he held under his belt. He felt that such an outcome was unacceptable! Anger quickly filled his body and mind, he looked at the youngster with a rising hatred, wishing nothing more than to rip him apart!

Suddenly, a thought came to his mind, causing him to sneer viciously at the group from the side.

---

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