A Failed Hero's Voyage Chapter 10: Chapter 10: A Savior

Read chapter 10 of A Failed Hero's Voyage by churro on NovelPedia.

The skinny man hissed through clenched teeth, his patience already worn thin. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, his voice sharp with irritation as he struggled against the hand that held his own in place. Atherius regarded him in silence for a moment, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly. Then he exhaled, long and measured, as if burdened not by the question itself, but by its inevitability. Of course, someone from the slums would not recognize him. Why would they? He was a figure spoken of far more often than seen, a name carried through stories and sermons rather than a face familiar to the masses. His attention shifted briefly to the boy still pinned by the throat, then returned to the man before him. “I believe,” Atherius said calmly, his voice quiet yet carrying an unmistakable weight, “that you do not understand what I mean.” The man’s expression twisted further with each passing second. Frustration turned to anger as he jerked his arm, attempting to wrench it free, but Atherius grip did not so much as falter. Their eyes met. Atherius expression remained cold, utterly devoid of emotion. Then, without warning, he moved. With a single, effortless motion, he twisted the man’s arm. A sickening crack split the air as bone shattered under the force. Flesh tore as the limb bent in a direction it was never meant to, jagged fragments piercing through skin. The man recoiled violently, a raw scream tearing from his throat as he staggered backward, clutching at what remained of his arm. Atherius stepped forward, closing the distance with quiet inevitability. Behind them, the two boys who had been restraining the child froze for a heartbeat, their courage collapsing under the sheer presence of the man before them. Then, without a word, they fled, disappearing into the maze of alleys as fast as their legs could carry them. The wounded man barely noticed. He groaned, then screamed again, his body trembling as he tried to retreat, only for Atherius to crouch down before him, forcing their eyes to meet. For a moment, the world seemed to shrink to that single gaze. One eye, a void, endless, devouring. The other, crimson, sharp and inhuman. The man’s breath hitched as something primal took hold of him. Fear, raw and absolute, seeped into his very being, as though those abyssal eyes were not merely looking at him, but through him, stripping away everything he was. Atherius watched him for a moment longer. Then he spoke. “Leave.” The word was quiet. It did not need to be louder. The man flinched as though struck, then scrambled to his feet, clutching his ruined arm as he ran. He did not look back, not once. Within moments, he vanished into the slums, leaving behind only a trail of blood marking his escape. Silence settled over the alley. Atherius exhaled softly before turning his attention to the boy. His gaze hardened slightly. “How many times,” he began, his tone measured yet edged with restrained frustration, “do I have to tell you to remain within the temple, Sefyr?” Sefyr met his eyes without hesitation, defiance burning brightly despite everything that had just occurred. “You know I hate that place,” he shot back. “Why would I stay there?” Atherius stepped closer, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder before lowering himself to meet his gaze directly. His expression softened, though the firmness in his voice did not waver. “You are safe in the temple,” he said. “So that is where you will stay.” Sefyr clicked his tongue in irritation, already turning away. “Yeah, yeah… whatever you say.” He had barely taken a step before Atherius hand closed around the back of his collar. In one smooth motion, he lifted the boy clean off the ground. Sefyr recoiled instantly, kicking and striking at him in protest. “Let go of me!” he shouted, struggling to break free. Atherius, however, remained unmoved. “I am afraid,” he replied calmly, bending his knees slightly as his body shifted in preparation, “you have already proven that I cannot do that… little