Chapter 20: Demon or angel?

The man and the child stood in the dimly lit cave, their swords drawn and ready for battle. The man's hands trembled as he looked at the small assassin before him. He had seen the child's deadly skills, and the recent deaths of his friends at the child's hands weighed heavily on his mind.

 

The child, no older than 10, stood with the confidence and poise of a seasoned warrior. The man could see the determination in the child's eyes, and knew that this would not be an easy fight.

 

The man swung his sword wildly, trying to intimidate the child with his size and strength. But the child was quick and nimble, easily dodging the man's clumsy attacks. The child struck back with precision and speed, landing blow after blow on the man's sword and armor.

 

 

The man could feel the sweat pouring down his face as he struggled to keep up with the child's deadly attacks. He could hear the jeers and cheers of the slaves and caged monsters that surrounded them, cheering on the small assassin.

 

 

The man tried to change tactics and get close to the child, but the child was too quick and agile, always staying one step ahead. The man could feel his strength and energy slipping away, and knew that he was no match for the skilled assassin.

 

 

Finally, the child landed a swift blow to the man's sword, causing it to fly out of his hand and skitter across the cave floor. The child then pressed the tip of his sword against the man's throat, holding him at sword point.

 

 

"Surrender," the child said, his voice cold and emotionless.

 

 

The man, defeated and out of breath, raised his hands in surrender. The child lowered his sword and gestured for the man to be taken away. The slaves and caged monsters erupted in cheers as the child emerged victorious.

 

 

As the child turned to walk away, a hulking figure stepped out from the shadows in the corner of the cave. It was the male slave from earlier, his body scarred and bruised from his time of captivity and abuse. He was dressed in tattered rags, his once-muscular frame now emaciated and weak.

 

 

The child could see the fire in the slave's eyes, the determination to fight for his freedom. He knew that this would not be an easy fight.

 

“hey stop am here to save you all" said the child in a cold but warm voice. It was very confusing. It felt like he was confusing a demon or angel. No one could tell what he sounded more like.

 

The slave charged at the child, wielding a crudely fashioned sword. The child was quick to react, dodging and weaving through the slave's attacks with ease. The slave was strong, but he was also slow and uncoordinated, making it easy for the child to predict and counter his moves.

 

 

The child landed blow after blow on the slave, but the slave refused to back down. He fought with all his might, fueled by his desire for freedom. The child could see the desperation in the slave's eyes, and for a moment, he hesitated.

 

 

The slave took advantage of the child's hesitation and landed a heavy blow to the child's shoulder, causing him to stumble. The child retaliated with a swift strike to the slave's chest, killing him instantly.

 

“Why did you have to do that?” screamed the child.

 

The caged monsters erupted in cheers as the child emerged victorious once again. But the child and slaves understood that the man was innocent , just crazy. The slavery had driven him to go berserk. The masked kid couldn't bring himself to feel victorious.

 

He knew that the slave's death had been necessary for his safety, but it didn't make it any easier to bear.

 

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As the child walked away, he couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness and guilt wash over him. He had been training himself to kill, to feel nothing as he took lives. But now, as he looked back at the sad slaves and cheering caged monsters, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had taken another life. He remembered the old man he had killed back at the castle. Another mentally ill person.

 

The child knew that he had to focus on his mission and complete it, but the weight of the lives he had taken weighed heavily on him. He couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the children in his organization, for himself and even the slaves around him.

 

 

As the child walked away, he noticed a group of people huddled in the corner of the cave. They were a group of slaves, young men, young women, and children, cowering in fear. The child realized that his mission was not yet complete, there were still those in need of liberation. He approached the group and with a stern but gentle voice he offered them his help, they accepted his help and accompanied him.

 

 

Together, they ventured deeper into the cave, the child leading the way, his sword at the ready. They encountered several guards along the way, but the child dispatched them with ease, his training and skills making him more than a match for them.

 

 

Finally, they reached the heart of the slave operation, where they found the man who had been running the operation, a cruel and ruthless tyrant named Mamba who was responsible for the suffering and deaths of countless people as his people raided villages for young slaves and merchants for monsters and other commodities.

 

 

The child approached the man, who sneered at him and drew his sword. The child could see the fear and desperation in the man's eyes, but he also saw the determination to fight for his own survival.

 

 

The child and the man engaged in a fierce battle, the child's skill and training against the man's brute strength and experience. But in the end, it was the child who emerged victorious, striking the final blow and killing the man.

 

 

With the man dead, the slaves were finally free. The child had completed his mission, but at a great cost. He had killed many people, both guilty and innocent, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt and sorrow for all the lives lost.

 

 

He turned to the slaves, and with a heavy heart, he said, "You are all free now, but there is still much work to be done. I will help you in any way I can, but it is up to you to make something of your freedom."

 

 

The slaves nodded, tears of joy and gratitude streaming down their faces. They knew that they had the child to thank for their freedom and they vowed to make the most of it.

 

Minus the injury the slave had given him on the shoulder. The masked person was perfectly fine since most of his kills were assassinations. His stamina was down but he felt great since he knew he had cleaned the world just a little bit.

 

Now he was looking at a crowd of children standing near the cages.

 

“those of you who have a place to go back to. Stand on my left. I will compensate you with some money to help you get back to your homes.” Said the masked person in a normal child’s voice which shocked these people. It was like the masked kid was haunted by two souls. A cold killing machine and an innocent child. They had seen how fast he had taken down mercenaries like they were training dummies. They could not help but wonder, is he a demon or an angel.

 

They quickly separated into two groups. The children on the right were around 100 and the rest were on the left. He told one of the older boys on the right to come forward. He was the slave that had been kicked by the man at the beginning when the monsters went crazy.

 

He have him a big bag of coins to him. “that bag contains silver coins, give each one of the people on the left 15silver coins. I will go mark the way to leave the cave. They shouldn’t take anything else. I will be back to sort the rest of you out. Make sure he doesn’t escape” said the masked man as he pointed at the man that had surrendered and was currently in one of the cages.

 

 

“Y..yes sir" said the boy in a very panicked but respectful manner. The masked man then left.

 

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