Broken Tower Saga: The First Swordsman

[User Anton Blaciel is under a slave brand. You cannot eliminate yourself from the test anymore.]

All the struggling resistance Anton made failed as the runic pattern of the slave brand appeared on his forehead. With that came a slight migraine in his head, disabling him from thinking straight. Anton did his best resisting the brand. 

"This is not enough. This won't be enough," Anton muttered with a pained expression on his face.

"That's a resilient one," Ben added, looking at the leaving Scythe. "I don't think the slave brand will be able to hold him back."

Even though the slave brand was quite useful in the trial, it was not permanent, and moreover, it had a lot of flaws. If the slave had considerably strong willpower, they could deny their master's order. In the week of their test, Ben had seen many cases of betrayal among the slaves, too.

The only way was to make the slaves act as a slave was to break off their will, though that could never heal even after the test or in a lifetime.

It was as Ben said it. In the next moment, Anton lifted his back with all of his might, as he shouted in anger. "Fuck off."

"See," Ben said as he made a few hand signs with his glowing azure palms as the pressure on Anton raised by another level.

Anton fell again as he felt sweat blood on his lips. Ben was still above him.

Yet Anton was not someone who would give up. He tried to get up again, but failed. He roared again, raising a middle finger at the Scythe. "I SAID. .. FUCK OFF."

Scythe tilted his head at Anton. Even though Anton could not see the eyes of Scythe through the mask, he felt his opponent was staring right into his eyes.

"Cut off his middle finger," Scythe announced. "And Ben, do what you do best."

"Aye, aye," Ben saluted like a good soldier. He looked around to find a knife struck on his left shoulder. He picked it up with his other arm, even bit his lips a little doing that, but that looked too much artificial. This fellow did not seem to feel any pain doing that. "Sorry man, you picked the wrong den to invade."

Anton shouted in agony the next moment. Ben did not cut off his middle finger in one swoop, but slowly. Moreover, this maniac seemed to enjoy it. Anton gritted his teeth as the pain continued for a while, then his middle finger fell on the ground.

"Done," Ben said, and noticed Scythe already left. He laughed ruefully, losing all the interest in the matter. He picked up the finger and put it in the inside vest of Anton. "Lock him up and entertain him well before I have the time to."

The underlings followed without any question. Anton did struggle now, as it would be pointless. He let the men carry him and noticed Kevin looking at him apologetically. Kevin seemed to feel all of this was his fault. Well, Anton did get captured trying to rescue him.

'It's not your fault,' Anton muttered under his breath. 'I should have collected more information.'

.. . 

It was way past the time Anton said to wait. Davin was becoming more anxious with each moment pass. The half-moon on the sky moved way past the middle as the night was not young now. He bit his lips, gazing in the southwest direction. 

"You should run now," said the red-faced man. He was sleeping a moment ago, and when he woke up, the deadpan expression on his capture face greet him, making his way better even though he was stuck to a tree. 

Davin did not answer, only frowned at the captive, then return to his worry.

"Haha," the red-faced man laughed maniacally as the moon on the sky moved. "That friend of yours was out of his mind. Challenge the Scythe on his own. A stupid fool.. . ."

Davin became quite irritated with his worries as the captive run his mouth in maniac laughter. He had to do something about this guy.

"You have not eaten yet," he said, looking at the man bound to the tree. "Would you like to eat your boot?"

The red-faced man turned silent. 

"Good. Stay like that."

The night turned deep. It was past midnight. More than a couple of hours passed since the time Anton mentioned, yet Davin had not moved from there yet.

His eyes drifted to the southwest again with a little expectation on his eyes. He saw a few lights drifting there that seemed like fireflies in the cold night and mist.

"Damn it," cursed Davin. Those lights are not fireflies, but a group of people heading his way, and they were moving fast. It could be the underlings of Scythe, or some other group, but Davin could not take chances now.

"You should run now." Nobody stopped the red-faced man's laughter now. 

Davin did not care about him anymore, stood up and carried the two large baggage—his and Anton's. 'If Anton succeeds in fleeing, he will be able to find me," with that thought Davin was about to move, but suddenly stopped.

He went near the red-faced man to unsheathe his sword. 

"What are you planning? No.. .. " the man cried out in panic.

"I'm not that inhuman," Davin whispered, before hitting the head of the man with the hilt of the sword. "It will hurt a little."

Putting off the fire, Davin strode to the opposite direction the men were coming from. Anton told him to look for Wrik and others if he did not return, and Davin had the same idea in his mind. If only it were easier. Moreover, now he had two groups looking for him.

________________

Next Chapter: Plans. 

The counteract will start in a few more chapters, and it's only the beginning.

Another chapter in an hour.

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