Chapter 31 Messiah
A dozen or so figures darted out of the darkness, each carrying a sword and a net.
Another voice rang out in the dim light—
"Kill the big ones, leave only the small ones!"
"Fifty gold coins each after this job!"
A cacophony of cheers erupted from outside the camp.
Upon hearing this, the old man immediately showed a look of fear and exclaimed:
"not good!"
"It's a group of slave traders! Run!"
Upon hearing this, the children were immediately terrified and panicked, throwing themselves into chaos and bursting into tears...
The slave traders were even more excited when they heard the child crying. They seemed to hear not the sound of a child crying, but the crisp clinking of money!
"It's them!"
The slave traders, brandishing swords, swarmed through the makeshift barriers at the camp entrance...
I saw those greedy eyes, like those of hyenas, and those swords raised high, gleaming in the firelight.
The old man's heart sank to the bottom; his withered Adam's apple bobbed, and a feeling of despair welled up inside him...
No... even if I die, I want to die before the children...
In despair, the old man stepped forward, blocking the child's path, his hoarse throat trembling as he roared:
"You...you beasts!"
The slave trader sneered, "Get out of here, you old codger!"
Just as the slave trader sneered—
An arrow, with a whoosh...
It pierced his throat!
Before the slave trader could react, he instinctively touched his throat...
Blood?
Then, with a thud, it fell to the ground...
Immediately afterwards, whoosh whoosh whoosh—
Several more arrows struck the throats of several slave traders.
A single drop of blood can kill... precise and deadly!
They didn't even have time to react, not even to scream.
They then collapsed to the ground with a thud.
They could only watch in terror and despair as the moonlight gradually blurred and blood soaked the ground...
The remaining slave traders who had not yet entered the camp quickly realized that something was wrong and turned to run away.
However, even those of them with good stamina managed to run dozens of meters.
They were immediately overtaken by those terrifying arrows.
Like death itself, it pierced their throats with effortless ease...
...
Everything happened too fast.
When these slave traders stormed into the camp, they all died...
It only took a dozen seconds in total.
Even old Tyr and Pan had just drawn their weapons, ready to fight.
The group looked at Dick in surprise...
Those last few moves were definitely at the level of a Gold Warrior...
Dick's growth was so rapid that even old Tyr found it incredible.
However, Dick had no time to care about any of that.
He trembled, his face deathly pale, and looked at Yara. He pursed his lips and said:
"brother..."
"I might have to go first."
"Perseus is still in the city..."
"if..."
"If anything happens to him, I'll regret it for the rest of my life!"
Yara nodded. He knew that Dick had entrusted little Perseus to the care of his so-called 'friend,' promising him five gold coins in exchange for looking after him for a while...
Perhaps at that time, five gold coins could persuade his 'friend'...
However, after learning that a child could be sold for a high price of 100 gold coins...
Human nature, then, cannot withstand any test.
"Go, my friend..."
"Take care on your journey..."
"Make sure you are safe..."
"We will return to Argos as soon as possible to join you!"
May the Lord bless you.
Yara opened her arms and embraced the pale-faced Dick, offering him her blessing.
"Thank you, my brother."
Dick expressed his heartfelt gratitude.
He then grabbed his longbow and galloped eastward, disappearing into the night...
...
The battle ended so quickly that it didn't even end until Dick left.
The old man finally came to his senses and stared blankly at Yara and his group.
It seems like there's something to say, but they don't know how to start.
Yara witnessed Dick's figure disappear into the night.
He sighed.
I silently prayed for this friend.
After doing all this, he noticed the stunned old man and the still-shaken children standing to the side.
He reassured her:
"Don't be afraid...the slave traders are all dead."
The old man regained his senses and gave Yara a deep look.
To be honest, he had long sensed that this group of people were extraordinary...
So, mustering his courage, hesitantly asked, "Who...are you?"
Yara did not hide anything, nor was there any need to hide anything, he explained:
"We are warriors sent by the King of Argos to vanquish the Lion of Nemea..."
"I am Arah, the Messiah of God."
"This is Tyr, the legendary swordsman."
"This is Pan, the renowned Golden Warrior."
"And that man just now was named Dick. He was my friend, a prince, and one of the warriors who fought against the lion."
The old man was stunned, a look of shock flashing in his eyes, and he exclaimed:
"Conquer...the Nemeria Lion?"
"By the gods! Is this something a mortal could do?"
"Did you... succeed?"
But he soon realized that he had asked a pointless question.
Yara picked up the handsome lion's head with its golden mane from the ground.
He held it high.
The moonlight shimmered on the golden mane.
"God bless us, we succeeded..."
The old man was deeply moved, tears welling in his eyes. He knelt down before Yara, trembling.
The voice also carried a hint of sobbing:
By the gods...
"You defeated that monster..."
"They've saved these children again..."
"And I, before, was so disrespectful to you, to a hero..."
"My gratitude and guilt are beyond words!"
Yara corrected, "No, not the gods..."
"It is God."
The old man didn't understand.
Yara looked at the children hiding behind the old man, their clothes barely covering them, their faces pale and thin. Their limbs were emaciated, their bellies large, and some had red eyes and were sobbing constantly; they must have been terrified.
The ground was littered with corpses, emitting a foul stench; the dilapidated ruins behind them offered no shelter from the wind and rain...
A feeling of deep empathy and heartache rose from the bottom of my heart...
Weren't the Canaanite children the same during that time of disaster?
A nagging pang of conscience told Yara that she had to do something!
He pondered for a moment and said:
"Come with me."
The old man was taken aback again, not understanding Yara's meaning.
"Go to the east."
There's a place to the east called—
"Canaan".
"The food there is plentiful, and the scenery is beautiful..."
"My people are there."
"You and the children can stay there."
"There's no need for a life of wandering."
"There is no need to go hungry."
"There is no need to be naked."
When Yara said these words.
The old man kneeling on the ground before him suddenly felt a strange tremor...
No one had ever treated him and his children like this. Their family abandoned them, seeing them as a burden; merchants approached them with profits and collars; slave traders came near with knives and branding irons...
Everyone harbors ill intentions; everyone's smile hides a knife...
He had already accepted that this world was dark and cannibalistic...
But at this very moment, in a moment of despair.
He saw a beam of light.
He was willing to share meat with the children, and he was willing to provide shelter so they wouldn't be hunted down by greedy thugs...
His reason told him that such a person couldn't possibly exist in the world, and that there would be a price to pay...
But his intuition told him... the person before him might be different...
He possesses something that the vast majority of people in the world do not have—
conscience.
"I don't know how to thank you enough..."
"The children have suffered so much... They and I have been constantly on the move... We've never had a proper meal, never had a good night's sleep... I don't even know if we can make it through this winter..."
"And your compassion is so timely..."
"However, I'm confused... why are you helping us at such a cost—"
"Why is that?"
The old man asked the last question that had been lingering in his heart.
The moonlight, like a sacred veil, shone behind Yara.
The dim, yellowish light from the nearby campfire illuminated Yara's face...
He said:
"Because...I am the Messiah."
The old man, like a devout believer, lowered his head and asked:
"Messiah? What's that?"
He answered decisively:
"God's anointed one."
"The one who saves humanity from suffering—"
"Savior."
...