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Bölüm Başlığı
Chapter 27: Wolves of the Steppe and the Shadow Ambush
Ön Söz (Author's Note - Öncesi)
Author's Note:
Welcome to Chapter 27! In this chapter, Tair proves that you don't always need a sword or combat energy to survive an ambush—sometimes, a loose stone and cold calculation are enough. Enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 27: Wolves of the Steppe and the Shadow Ambush
The sun had descended over the Western Ridges, casting a bruised crimson glow across the valley's jagged rocks. The trade route leading to Elyaran narrowed here, squeezed between steep shale cliffs and a dried-up, dead riverbed littered with rocks.
Azhred suddenly raised his hand. The packhorse behind him gave a faint whinny and stopped, catching a scent in the bitter wind.
"There are three men on the rocks above us," Azhred murmured; his fingers tightened around the silver hilt of his sword. "Two more are hiding among the bushes ahead. Scouts of the Regional Governor's mercenaries. They've been following us since afternoon."
Tair did not stop. He dragged his iron-braced leg forward in a slow, agonizing rhythm. Scrape. Scrape. His sunken black eyes scanned the terrain, completely ignoring the men. He looked at the loose gravel accumulation on the high rocky slope, the layer of damp clay making the floor of the dead riverbed slippery, and the narrow passage where two enormous boulders leaned against each other like slanted tombstones.
"Five men... is a patrol," Tair growled; his voice was a low, rough vibration. "Another... fifteen covering the rear... otherwise they wouldn't attack."
Before Azhred could answer, a sharp, piercing whistle cut through the silence of the canyon.
Armored men burst from the rocks above and the bushes ahead—they wore leather vests reinforced with iron scales, their curved swords drawn, shouting in the rough dialect of the borderlands. Just as Tair had predicted, another dozen mounted men appeared, closing off the narrow, tunnel-like entrance from behind; they had trapped them inside the gorge.
Azhred's eyes ignited with a cold, dazzling silver light. The air around him rippled as the Noble Essence began to shine, spreading a terrifying wave of pressure across the rocks. With a fluid, swift motion, his sword slid from its sheath and rang out in a deadly, high-pitched tone.
"Stay behind the horse, Tair," Azhred ordered, stepping forward. "Try not to die while I clear the path."
Azhred moved like lightning. He met the first three attackers in the narrow passage; his sword spun in brilliant silver arcs. Steel bit into bone; blood sprayed across the gray shale rocks. He was a master of the sophisticated Drazhan martial arts—every strike graceful, decisive, and crushing.
Yet Tair did not take refuge in the safe area behind the horse as ordered.
Dragging his lifeless right side, he stepped sideways toward the muddy riverbed. Two mercenaries, seeing the brutality Azhred displayed and searching for an easy target—having noticed a crippled man leaning against the rocks with a useless arm—changed direction and charged toward Tair, raising their iron daggers.
"Easy prey!" one of them snarled, lunging forward.
Tair did not reach for a weapon. He did not even blink. As a sudden surge of neural heat rose through his field of vision and lettered seals flashed into existence, his eyes calculated the attackers' weight, speed, and the ground beneath their feet within a fraction of a second.
System Interface: ASTRA
NEURAL COST: 19%
SPATIAL ANALYSIS: Clay Slipperyness Detected