Chapter 4: The Color of Minma
Trapped in a lethal storm of unseen blades, Fulan knew that defense was a slow death. His instincts were screaming, his body was already tiring, and his enemies were invisible. He needed to shatter the board, not just play the game.
With a defiant roar that was more frustration than battle cry, he unleashed his power again. The white, incandescent aura did not flare around him this time; instead, he channeled it all into a single, desperate act. He lunged forward into an empty space and threw a punch with such blistering speed that the air itself seemed to tear. A deafening CRACK, like a thunderclap, ripped through the clearing as his fist broke the sound barrier. The shockwave blasted outwards, kicking up a hurricane of dust, leaves, and twigs, momentarily outlining everything in a swirling brown cloud.
One of the hidden bandits, seeing Fulan's seemingly random and wasteful attack, grinned from his concealed position. He's blind. Thrashing about without a target. Seeing the perfect opening, the man moved like a wraith, circling silently behind Fulan. He raised his short sword, the steel invisible within his camouflage, and lunged, aiming for the fatal, unprotected space of Fulan's neck.
The blade would never arrive.
A streamer of brilliant blue light, fluid and swift as a striking viper, shot out from Fayrouz's direction. It wrapped itself around the unseen sword, and as it tightened, the bandit's camouflage flickered. The soft, cerulean glow of the ribbon illuminated the steel blade, halting it a mere inch from Fulan's skin. The force of the blow was stopped dead, absorbed by the solidified energy.
In that same instant, Fulan, guided by the sudden flash of blue, was already moving. He appeared before the now-visible bandit, whose eyes were wide with terror. Fulan's fist, still radiating a faint white energy, slammed into the man's stomach. The impact was devastating. All the air rushed out of the bandit's lungs in a single, choked gasp, and he was launched into the air like a stone from a catapult, landing in a heap ten feet away, utterly defeated.
With one threat neutralized, Fayrouz moved with terrifying grace. Underneath her blindfold, her eyes were now glowing with an intense, azure light, twin pools of deep ocean blue that seemed to perceive the world in strands of energy and light. She saw not men, but the faint, flickering auras of their Minma. Another bandit, who had been creeping up on Fulan's other side, was suddenly enveloped by more of the glowing blue ribbons, which had emerged from the shawl around Fayrouz's waist. They coiled around his limbs and torso like powerful constrictors.
"Let me go!" he shrieked, his camouflage dissolving as he struggled.
Fayrouz was silent, her expression serene. The ribbons tightened their grip. A sickening series of cracks and pops echoed in the clearing as bones dislocated and muscles were crushed. The man's screams died in his throat, and his body went limp, held up only by the relentless blue bindings.
The remaining three bandits, witnessing the swift, brutal defeat of their comrades, finally broke. Their only thought was to escape. They turned to flee into the dense woods.
"Fulan! To your right, running for the treeline!" Fayrouz's voice cut through the air, sharp and precise.
Fulan didn't need to be told twice. He pushed off the ground, a white blur of motion, and intercepted the fleeing man with a flying kick that caught him squarely in the back. The bandit went down hard and did not get up.
Simultaneously, Fayrouz extended her arms. The blue ribbons shot out, becoming impossibly long and flexible. They moved like living tendrils, easily ensnaring the last two escapees, yanking them off their feet and binding them back-to-back in unbreakable glowing knots.
The battle was over. The silence that returned to the clearing was heavy, punctuated only by the groans of the defeated.
Fayrouz stood calmly amidst the scene. She watched as the last traces of the brilliant white Minma aura around Fulan flickered and then vanished. His energy signature, which had burned like a star, suddenly became placid, almost nonexistent—as colorless and unremarkable as a common stone.
"Your Minma," she said, her glowing eyes fixed on him. "I am not imagining it, am I? The particles shift. They go from colorless to pure white when you are in combat. You are concealing its true nature."
Fulan was momentarily taken aback, not by her astuteness, but by the sight of her eyes. The blue blindfold she had always worn lay discarded on the ground, revealing eyes that shone with a light of their own. "So, you're not blind," he stated, the surprise evident in his voice.
Fayrouz raised a delicate eyebrow. "What ever made you assume that I was?"
"The… the covering over your eyes," he said, gesturing vaguely.
"You mean this?" she asked, picking up the blue cloth. She handled it with a certain fondness. "This is not a weapon. It is simply a shawl. An old gift from my mother. I wear it over my eyes to help me focus." She let that statement hang in the air, offering no further explanation. "Now, we have a problem to solve. We need to transport them."
Fulan looked at the nine unconscious bodies scattered around them. "You don't seriously expect me to carry them, do you?"
A small, confident smile touched Fayrouz's lips. "I have a more suitable idea."
By the time they reached the western gate of Saikono village, the sun was a fiery orb sinking below the horizon, painting the sky in strokes of orange and purple. The two guards at the gate were leaning on their spears, trading lazy stories, when they saw them approaching. Their conversation died in their throats.
The sight before them was one they would recount in taverns for years to come. A young boy and a girl walking out of the dangerous pass as calmly as if from a stroll in a park. And behind the girl, trailing in the dust, were nine unconscious men, including the infamous leader of the Nine Spider-Feet. They were all bound and trussed, dragged along effortlessly by nine shimmering blue ribbons of light that extended from the girl's waist, fanning out behind her like the tails of some mythical creature.
The guards stared, jaws agape, as Fayrouz dragged her cargo to a halt before them. With a flick of her wrist, she released the bandits, who fell into a tangled, groaning pile at the guards' feet.
"We believe these belong to you," she said, her tone businesslike. "They were obstructing the road."
As the guards continued to stare in stunned silence, the nine blue ribbons flowed back towards her, retracting and shrinking until they coalesced into a simple, elegant blue bracelet that settled silently onto her wrist.
"Well then," Fayrouz said, turning to Fulan. "Shall we continue on our way?"
They walked past the speechless guards and through the village gate. After a long moment, one guard finally turned to his companion, his eyes wide as dinner plates.
"Wasn't… wasn't that the Nine Spider-Feet gang?" he stammered.
"It was," his partner whispered, still staring at the pile of defeated men.
"What's the bounty on their heads again?"
The second guard did a quick, mental calculation, his eyes growing wider with every number. "Five hundred Diamo for each of the men… and fifteen hundred for the leader." He swallowed hard. "That… that total is more than I make in six months of standing at this gate."