Void Tree Chronicles

Chapter 11: Slaughter



Wes forced himself to move.

His legs shook violently, his body felt shattered, but he stood. He had to.

His sister's cries filled the room, raw and terrified.

"Wesly… Wesly…"

She was sobbing, her voice cracking, barely able to form words.

She was the only one who called him that.

Wes clenched his jaw, his breath ragged, his entire body screaming in agony.

He looked at the dagger in his shaking hands.

Then—

He heard them.

His father. The men. They were back.

Heavy boots. Rushed movements. Voices cutting through the chaos outside.

The void-eyed man turned his head toward the door, his expression shifting.

He looked surprised.

As if caught off guard.

For a moment, Wes actually believed it.

And then—years later, he would understand.

It was a fucking trick.

The void-eyed man had known. He had known his father was coming long before it happened.

But back then, Wes hadn't realized it.

The way the void-eyed man had paused, tilted his head, acted surprised— it had all been a performance. He had pretended to be caught off guard, just like Wes had been.

It was calculated. A deception.

And Wes had fallen for it.

He lunged, dagger aimed for the man's ribs, heart pounding as he put everything he had into the strike.

The void-eyed man moved his sister into the blade's path.

The dagger sank deep into her small frame.

Wes' breath caught in his throat.

For a second, time froze.

His sister's tiny hands clutched at his wrist, her eyes wide with shock, confusion, lips trembling.

Then—blood.

It soaked her dress, poured over his hands, warm and wet.

"No…"

The word barely escaped his lips. His entire body locked up.

The void-eyed man grinned.

Then, he let go.

Wes' sister fell from his grasp, collapsing onto the cold floor.

Her small frame twitched once. Then stilled.

Wes dropped to his knees. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest rising and falling in frantic, disbelieving horror.

The void-eyed man turned away, already walking toward the door.

And then—

Simon arrived.

Wes barely registered it at first. He only noticed when the void-eyed man actually stopped.

Simon didn't hesitate.

As soon as he reached the doorway, his fist shot forward, a brutal punch aimed straight for the void-eyed man's head.

The man didn't dodge.

He raised a single hand—palm open—and met the blow head-on.

A split-second impact—then Simon was sent flying.

His body slammed into the far wall with a sickening crack.

The void-eyed man barely reacted.

He simply dusted his palm off, adjusting his stance before stepping outside.

Casually.

Unrushed.

Like the fight hadn't even started yet.

And then—

The slaughter began.

Simon recovered fast, pushing off the ground with a snarl, his Void ability fully active.

Wes didn't know it yet, but it was a Bloodline ability from his void crystal, he tried to keep his ability hidden from king.

His hair was darker, his movements sharper, his speed and strength slightly enhanced.

For the first time, the void-eyed man turned to face him properly.

Simon moved first.

A powerful thrust—his spear cutting through the air like a bullet.

The void-eyed man tilted his head slightly, just enough for the spear to miss his throat by a fraction. The weapon scraped his shoulder, but it was nothing.

Simon didn't hesitate. He twisted the spear, spinning it into a wide sweep meant to cleave the man in two.

Too slow.

The void-eyed man stepped inside Simon's guard, a knife flashing in his grip.

Simon reacted immediately, twisting his body, but blood sprayed as the blade carved across his ribs.

He barely flinched.

Simon countered with a vicious backhanded stab, aiming straight for the void-eyed man's chest.

A blur of motion.

The void-eyed man deflected the attack, his knife carving downward in a precise, lethal arc.

Another slash—Simon's forearm split open.

Then, a knee to the gut.

Simon staggered, coughing, but held firm.

The other men rushed in—four of them, weapons drawn.

It didn't matter.

The void-eyed man moved like a specter, weaving through their strikes like they were standing still.

One man's throat was slit in an instant—he fell before he even realized he was dead.

Another was impaled through the chest, pinned to the wooden wall like an insect.

The third had his spine severed in a single precise strike, his body crumpling without resistance.

And the fourth—

The void-eyed man dodged his desperate attack and slammed his knife into the man's skull with brutal finality.

Simon barely had time to process it.

The void-eyed man was already upon him.

A final slash—clean, efficient.

Blood sprayed.

Simon's body went rigid. His fingers trembled around the shaft of his spear, his grip faltering.

The light in his eyes dimmed.

Then, he collapsed.

Wes couldn't breathe.

He sat frozen, dagger still slick with his sister's blood.

The void-eyed man looked back toward Wes's direction one last time.

Then, he turned and walked away.


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