NOVEL NEXT Chapter 19: Chapter 19 Mercy
Owain watched Ieuan and Gruffudd depart, their small party of riders moving steadily toward their destination. From his vantage point atop a rocky outcrop near Harlech Castle, Owain's gaze was fixed on their retreating figures, a grim sense of anticipation hanging in the air. Marred, standing by his side, touched his hand, a silent acknowledgment of the uncertain road ahead.
The day's light faded as Ieuan and his men made their way through the rough landscape. The road was unkind—bumpy, unpredictable, yet the riders pressed forward. The path took them close to Lake Trawsfynydd, its placid waters reflecting the last embers of the setting sun. Ieuan glanced at the distant Aran Mountains, their peaks dusted in the last streaks of light before nightfall swallowed them whole, The peaks might be beautiful, but they're indifferent, like everything else in this world. There's no real peace here—only the slow grind of time. Everything in this world felt both familiar and foreign to him.
By the time the sun sank below the horizon, the group had stopped to make camp. A fire crackled softly, its orange glow throwing long shadows against the rocky outcrops around them. Gruffudd, ever the wary leader, noticed Ieuan's stillness as the group settled. "I haven't seen you eat or drink all day, brother." His voice was kind, but his eyes narrowed with concern. "Take this." He offered Ieuan a strip of dried meat.
Ethan's mind briefly flickered with memories of his old self—the taste of food, the pleasure of a full stomach. But his body no longer needed food or sleep. "Thank you," he replied softly, taking the meat. He bit into it without thought, though it was more for appearances than necessity.
Gruffudd, content to see his brother accept the gift, raised his wine cup in a silent toast to their journey, settling down near the fire to rest.
As the hours dragged on, the stillness of the night was broken by the return of Gruffudd's scouts. They came back with two disheveled men—dirty, sweating, their clothes torn. "Lord," one of the scouts called out. "These two say they were robbed by bandits on the road."
Gruffudd, eyed the two men carefully, before offering them food and a place at the fire. "You're heading to Bala as well?" he asked, his tone neutral but probing.
Ethan, scanned the men with a keen eye. His vision, heightened by his nanobots, pierced through the dirt and grime of their appearance. He could see the subtle bulges beneath their clothes—knives, hidden well but not well enough. His suspicion deepened, the quiet hum of the nanobots within him adding to the growing unease.
'They're lying,' Ethan thought, the wheels of his mind turning as he studied their every movement. 'Let's see what they're truly up to.'
Later that night, as the moon hung high, the camp fell into a quiet sleep. The two men, still near the fire, shared a glance that spoke volumes. One kicked the other, a subtle signal. In the darkness, Ieuan heard the whispered command far from his tent, "Only forty men and a few drunk on watch. Get to the others. We strike tonight."
Ieuan rose without a sound, his movements fluid and deliberate. He followed the man silently, his senses keen as the wind rustled the leaves. The man met with the others, and Ieuan overheard their conversation: "We've struck gold. Their armor is fine, and they have horses too." The leader of the bandits sneered. "Glyndŵr's men, eh? His men are dead as his rebbelion. Let us put them out of their misery."
"Misery?" Ieuan's voice rang out suddenly, cutting through the air. The bandits froze, looking around in confusion and fear. "Show yourself!" one of them shouted, his sword drawn.
Ieuan stepped forward, his form emerging from the shadows like a ghost. "No need." His voice was cold, yet somehow mocking.
A bandit rashly lunged at him, sword raised. But Ieuan moved with an uncanny speed, dodging effortlessly, before his hand shot forward. The impact was instant—his hand crushed straight through the man's skull, a burst of blood spilling as he collapsed to the ground.
Ieuan stood over the corpse, his expression unreadable. "Huh. I killed him." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That was.... too much power than I intended."
The remaining bandits were paralyzed with fear, their eyes wide as they turned to flee. "A monster!" one of them screamed, his legs failing him as he scrambled to escape.
Ieuan's eyes gleamed. "Do I have to kill them?" he wondered aloud. "If I leave them, innocents may get hurt."
He reached down, picking up a large stone from the ground. With a flick of his wrist, he ground it into little pieces, his speed and force of the projectile were unnatural. The stones flew through the air like a bullet, piercing one man's back with brutal precision. Another stone followed, then another, until all of them had dropped like flies, their bodies falling to the ground in an unceremonious heap.
The last man, now kneeling in terror, pleaded, "Please spare me! I promise—I won't do it again!" He trembled, eyes wide with fear. "I swear it!"
Ieuan knelt before him, his expression cold but calculating. "Cut off your hands. Atone for your sins."
The man gasped, his voice shaking. "But... how can I...."
Ieuan's voice cut through the fear like a blade. "You asked for mercy. Now you will earn it."
The man, trembling with fear and desperation, extended his hands to Ieuan. With one swift motion, Ieuan unsheathed his sword and severed the man's hands, the blood splattering onto the earth. The bandit screamed in agony, his cries echoing into the night.
But then, something unexpected happened. The man fell to his knees, pleading. "Save me! I beg of you..." His tears streaked down his face as he looked up at Ieuan.
Ieuan's gaze softened for a moment, but his thoughts wavering. Mercy is a concept made for those who still believe they have a choice. But everyone's story ends the same way...
The man looked up, eyes filled with reverence and desperation. "Please, don't let me die like this! I will do anything... please just this once!?" He swore, his voice filled with a strange conviction.
Ieuan studied the man How strange, this man... assessing the sincerity in his eyes. The nanobots within him hummed as he reached out, touching the man's arms. Slowly, the bone and flesh began to heal, the hands regrowing before the bandit's stunned eyes.
The man gasped in horror, then amazement. "What sorcery is this!?" He shook his head, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Ieuan stood tall, watching the man's transformation. "Mercy didn't change this outcome. It is just a way to delay what's already coming."
The man, now whole, at Ieuan's feet, his voice filled with awe. "I Callwen son of....will serve you, I swear it! For as long as I live, I will die for your cause!"
Ieuan paused, considering the man's words. Then, with a cold, commanding tone, he spoke. "Rise."