10
The clash between the mercenary group led by the Hound and the Razcrew outfit began late at night.
The uninhabited ghost town along the highway connecting the cities was one of many places upstanding merchants used as a campsite to rest themselves and their pack animals.
Once a farming village, the site had been abandoned and repurposed as a communal rest spot. Scattered farmhouses, remnants of days gone by, provided shelter, and those with intact roofs made the campsite even more appealing.
For a band of unscrupulous criminals to dare to use such a place only fueled the Hound’s and his men’s anger.
Late in the night, the Hound and his forty-odd mercenaries infiltrated the ghost town. A lookout fire burned at the camp’s edge, and drunken, vulgar voices echoed in the darkness. The linked wagons bore the target merchant company’s name, confirming their prey.
The map engraved on TB’s chest was flawless. Leaving the boy behind in his tent before the operation began, the Hound couldn’t shake the memory of his pleading voice. Even so, he gave the order to his lieutenant, instructing him to position a smaller platoon at the village’s landmark.
The lieutenant nodded in confirmation. Then, at his signal, the Hound lifted his head to the sky—
“AWOOOO!”
His howl tore through the night, so fierce, it seemed it might reach the full moon hanging in the sky.
An instant later, the Hound dropped to all fours, bounding toward his target. The battle had begun.
“RAAAAAH!”
“Aw, shaddap, jackass!”
With a single swing of his massive machete, Ricardo struck down the crazed man charging at him. The thick iron blade sank into the man’s skull, splitting it open like a ripe fruit. As the corpse keeled over, spilling blood and brain matter on the way down, the men behind him gulped in unison.
“Eep…”
“Don’t just stand there, shit for brains!”
Freezing up in the face of such a grisly scene was beyond amateur.
Ricardo cleaved one man in two, then crushed another’s windpipe with a single punch. With all his might, he kicked a third into a wall, cracking the stunned man’s skull with the hilt of his machete, silencing him for good.
The criminal outfit had disguised themselves as a legitimate trading company, systematically raiding merchant caravans along the roads. But despite their notorious record, they crumpled the moment the tables were turned.
“Ricardo! How’s it looking on your end?!”
As Ricardo kicked aside a bloody corpse, his lieutenant ran over, his sword dripping with fresh blood. When he took in the carnage at Ricardo’s feet, he groaned and slapped a hand to his forehead.
“I wasn’t worried about you, but damn, you went overboard. You trying to kill everyone?”
“These bastards ain’t worth keeping alive. I’ll tear ’em limb from limb and toss ’em into a pot of boiling oil.”
“I get it, but think about the aftermath. We’ve got to answer to the council. If you wipe ’em all out, they won’t let you off easy.”
“What, you sayin’ they’ll want me to pay for it with my life? Fine, I bloody will! But only after I’m done with ’em. And if Ana and those kids ain’t safe, the deal’s off.”
While the lieutenant worried about the city council, Ricardo only burned with fury. The criminals’ true identity wouldn’t have been exposed if not for Anastasia’s quick thinking and the catmen’s help. Those poor kids had been pushed far beyond their limits. It was their duty to make things right.
The lieutenant’s scowl deepened. He threw his head back and howled, “Agggh, dammit! This is why I hate working with you. You fire everyone up too damn easily. At this rate, we won’t have enough survivors left to testify—”
“I told ’em to leave the leader alive. That’ll be plenty. But what matters more is—”
“I know. The skin flaying bastard, right?”
The skin flayer, Didorii. That many-armed man was the real muscle behind this operation. Sneak attacks and tricks wouldn’t work on him. He was on a whole other level.
“I’m the only one who can take him down. No one else is touching him.”
“Yeah, otherwise we’d just end up with more dead men. So isn’t it about time—?”
Ricardo had ordered the mercenaries to signal him with a whistle if they spotted Didorii. Once he took him out, everything else would fall into place. He stood still, ears sharp, waiting for the sound—
“Hellooooooooo! Oh, Wollllllfie! Come out and plaaaay!”
The smarmy, chilling voice cut through the blood-soaked ghost town, shattering the tension with unwelcome cheer.
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