The forest was filled with screams. A carriage with a father and a daughter was attacked by four brigands. They had the girl—not older than sixteen—held to a tree by one, while two of them held down the father and stabbed him in his shoulder. The girl screamed as loud as she could for help.

  'Shut up!' Said her captor. 'No one's coming to help you, you stupid cunt! You are ours until your daddy opens that goddamned chest!'

  He looked at the girl a little closer, and a devious smirk appeared on his face.

  'I think I know just the way to pass the time,' said the lowlife.

  'No! Leave her alone you bas- aaaagh,' the attacker deepened the knife into the man as soon as he spoke.

  'Well, well, well. You can speak after all! Oi, start stripping her clothes. Slowly. Maybe that will make the old-timer talk!'

  The girl started screaming even louder in desperation. It was like all her worst nightmares were were coming true at once.

  Lucky for her, a voice finally answered her cries.

  'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' said a rough, stern voice.

  All at present froze for a moment, seeing the new arrivals.

  There were two men. A big, muscular one with dark hair and a scar on his face. He had a two-handed mallet on his back, and even by first impression, the brigands knew that he was a warrior.

  The other, a much older one, with dark blue armor and a spear. He did not seem threatening at first glance, but his stance suggested training and experience.

  The two thugs stepped away from the old man in an alarmed stance. The one who looked after the horses this far came closer, weapon drawn. And the last one who was holding the girl got so scared he held the girl before him as a human shield, putting his knife to her throat. He was the first to address the two travelers.

  'Hey, back off! This is none of your business, so if you know what is good for you, you will just walk away, like nothing happened!'

  The little girl, meanwhile, looked terrified. She looked at the two possible helpers pleadingly.

  Wolf started laughing.

  'Look, Scythian! How adorable, they think they are a threat!'

  'You should not underestimate them,' said the old fighter. 'They might hold some tricks! Better be on guard.'

  The warmaster turned to his traveling partner.

  'Come on, they would barely be a threat to a butterfly! I mean, look at them. They are wearing regular clothes; they can barely hold their weapons properly, and look at how they stand. I am pretty sure a stronger gust of wind would knock them off balance! Hell, their blades are duller than my teeth!'

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Scythian answered without looking at him.

  'That tells more about your hygiene than their blades, I'm afraid.'

  'Oh, shove it!' Snapped the veteran. 'Why, do you see anything threatening in them?'

  'No,' agreed the spearman after a brief pause. 'They are completely harmless to us.'

  The one holding the girl finally snapped. In his ange, he pointed his knife towards the two warriors.

  'Hey! Don't think that we are pushovers! We still outnumber you, two to one!'

  'Look,' now the old scholar let out a chuckle. 'They think that we are the ones they should worry about.'

  The leader of the group had enough. He tossed aside the girl and started to walk towards the two wanderers.

  'Enough! What are you talking about?! Who else would—? He could not finish his sentence before the blade of Anger cut through his chest. In shock, he looked down at the wound. Suddenly a voice came from behind.

  'Does this answer your question? Good.'

  The man pulled out his blade from the brigand's body, which fell lifelessly to the ground. The remaining three took up battle-ready stances.

  The warrior simply smiled.

  'Now then. Show me what passes for fury in your misbegotten kind!'

  'Wow, this food is fantastic!' Said the man.

  They were in a tavern. After the fight was done and the wounds were tended to, the old man offered to bring them to this place. He even insisted on paying for the night, saying this was the least he could do for them after saving him and his daughter. On a somewhat strange action to the mentors, the traveler did not even attemp to refuse his offers, unlike in previous cases.

  After they settled in, they ordered themselves some food and a keg of beer. After all, the warrior wished to celebrate.

  'Glad you like it, lad,' said Scythian. 'So, will you tell us what it it isat got your mood so high?'

  The wanderer quickly swallowed the bite in his mouth.

  'Oh, right,' he poured out some beer from the keg. 'We are celebrating the fact that I am back at full strength in the matters of swordfighting and spells! I am at the level I was when I was a squire under Sir Lionel, proven by today's fight. All thanks to you.'

  They had a toast and quickly emptied their jugs.

  'So,' started Wolf. 'Does that mean that you achieved all your goals just because you killed some amateurs?'

  'Not even close!' Replied the swordsman. 'While I do feel stronger, I am nowhere near done with learning. There are so many techniques, spells, and other tricks I would like to explore. And yes, those thugs were nothing, but a few months back, I would have had to make an effort in beating them. Today, it was like cutting through bread.'

  'Please, I am eating here,' said Scythian, thinking back to the disgusting images of how the brigands died. In some cases, he thought his disciple could have been more sophisticated.

  'Oh look, poor little princess is upset, just because of a little blood,' mocked the old spearman Wolf. Then, with a disturbed look, he turned to his pupil.

  'But seriously,, kid, cutting them in half I get; chopping their head off is fine. But did you really have to blow up one of them?'

  'I wanted to try out that spell,' shrugged the swordsman. 'Besides, why would I show respect to them after what they wanted to do?'

  'Hey, I'm not saying they did not deserve it! Just that it looked a little too... exaggerated for someone saving lives.'

  The man took a bite from his meal. He kind of understood his mentor's concerns but had no regret whatsoever.

  'I am no hero,' he simply said.

  'So you say,' replied the old scholar. 'But this was not the first time we saw you jump headfirst into danger to help someone or avenge someone. I know that you think you are no hero, and—given what you told us about that night a few weeks ago—you even told this to a goddess. Yet, your actions tell a different story, lad. ' He took a sip of beer and continued. 'It is contradictory, especially when I remember what you told us: "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves.". So, which one is true? Your actions or your words?'

  Dear reader,

  As always, credits to Jorge Riverra-Herrans, for the song Ruthlessness. Also a quick update: this book will probably be updated less frequently from now on. The reasons are two fold:

  1.I started a new book! Its name is Warhammer 40K: Defenders of Eden. It is a fun book, check it out especially if you are a fan of the universe! Its gonna have most of my writing focus from now on.

  2.This book is about big themes and life lessons I have learned/learning currently in my life. Since these things can not be rushed, I would like to take more time from now on to really flesh these things out and have a better quality of the writing, as I feel that in some cases I cut some corners with it.

  DO NOT WORRY! I will still release a new chapter every month at least (sometimes more).

  So this is not the Journeys end, simply a new road which we shall take. I will see you all there!