Mac eyed Luterio with a bit of hesitation. It was clear to him that his crippled guide was slowly recovering his sanity. But in less than a second, any shred of worry immediately evaporated from his mind.
"So what if this guy can display emotion now." He thought. "That is the most he can do anyway. With two limbs missing and considering the amount of blood he lost, a fly is more treacherous than him. Heck, he can't even bite me back with that broken jaw."
Mac was arrogant to a fault (A large and dangerous fault, mind you). But he more often than not had the ability to back his claims and his views. He didn't bother with Luterio, and what could he do anymore. Instead, he focused on how to deal with his two new, unexpected foes. And lo and behold, Mac already formed an unnecessary faulty plan.
With his good arm, he dragged Luterio in the direction of the cave with the same recklessness. Despite his hurts, Mac did not think he needed help to deal with this problem, at least not Hai's.
Mac ran at full speed, bashfully dancing around the green until the invaders' hideout entered into view. It was somewhat similar to a camping site.
Now that Mac was up close, he could clearly see that the hideout was not limited to the cave slightly up the hill. At the base of the mountain in front of him, he saw a dozen tents scattered unorganized. Some of them seemed to be about to fall due to poor management.
He noticed they were probably stolen from the Sun Grow Tribe, but Mac could not be sure because the invaders' tents were ragged and covered in filth, almost unrecognizable. Despite where those tents came from, the invaders did not know how to care for them.
There were also your traditional campfires, three scattered around the place with no discernable patterns. Mac also saw weirdly well washed clothes hanging on branches from a nearby tree and on the grass.
"Vish, what is wrong with these guys?" Mac commented as he went up the hill. "They are messier than me! And that is saying a lot!"
He remembered how he spent the nights in the wild in these past few months. He could not bother himself with fire for heat or a place for shelter. He would only scale the most prominent tree he could find to rest just because he would often be attacked by wild animals if he slept on the floor. Although, Mac started being pickier with his resting spots when that old man started following him.
"Wait, who goes there!?" Mac awoke from his memories.
Looking up ahead of him, right outside the mouth of the cave, he saw the last two (he hoped) invaders. Under the light of the day and in a less pressuring situation, Mac got to see his enemies more plainly. Their skin tone was as dark as his, and just now did he realize they were bald, proudly displaying their shiny head to the world. "Poor bastards." He thought while imagining how worse a world without his lustrous orange hair seemed.
Their clothes, once again, were curiously clean. Mac could not, by the life of his, understand how such a disorganized and grungy group could keep their garments from the filth. His eyes lingered on their vestment for a while, and he had a minimal sparkle in his memory. He had seen those designs before, a long time ago.
Mac shook his head, trying to whisk away his parasitic memories, but instead, he only aggravated his pain. His head was still sore, so he shook it even more violently.
"Answer us already! Who are you!?" The other guard roared even louder with his spear firm in hand. He cautiously stepped closer, with his companion by his side. But, suddenly, they stopped in their tracks in shock. It seemed they recognized who was in front of them.
"Mac Key Kast!"
Mac finally stopped when he heard his name. Seeing the fear and uncertainty in the invaders' eyes filled his mind with a desire. A desire to terrorize and to harm. His greedy side was momentarily put aside in favor of his sadistic side.
"It seems you fools recognize me!" He laughed while striding ahead with striking steps. The scared guards jumped back in fright, taken completely by shock. "Took you long enough. It is not that hard to distinguish me from the crowd, is it now?"
Mac followed them to the mouth of the cave when the guards finally managed to conjure the strength to stand firm on their spot, even though their legs were visibly shaking.
"Stand back, you monster. We, the soldiers of Erapta, will put you to justice for the crimes committed against our kingdom." The guards would sound assertive if they didn't stumble over each other while cowering behind themselves.
Standing there with a terrible grin on his face, Mac enjoyed the view of grown men over thrice his age quivering in fear before him. It made him feel powerful.
Despite Mac's uncanny demeanor, it seemed courage had found its way over one of the guard's senses. "You are doomed now, Mac Key Kast!" He said, pointing a trembling finger. "We have a cultivator as our master and a small army to boost. The family Lu shall bring your end."
Mac's grin somehow got creepier. He raised Luterio with his right hand until the guards could see his face. "The family Lu, you say?" He mocked while swaying Luterio around like a puppet. "Holy Hevi, what did I get myself into?"
The guards stared at the lifeless and crippled body of their once proud and great captain, who, just a few hours ago, led over a dozen warriors to save his captured little brother. They remembered how mighty and superior he looked when he decided he would not be intimidated by cowards who kidnapped children. But now, he was reduced to less than a shadow of the man he was before. They could not even tell if he was alive.
One of the guards finally dropped to his knees while still staring at Luterio with his back hunched over. Its glare was similar to the one Luterio had when Ludan was massacred. Meanwhile, the guard left standing went a different kind of insane. He pointed his now fribbled finger at Mac and somehow managed to spurge a burst of maniacal laughter from his trembling mouth.
"Now you have done it, Mac Key Kast!" His spathic laugh greatly contrasted with his terrified eyes. "Do you know who-who that is?! That is the son of one of- NO, the most outstanding men in this world! A CULTIVATOR! FROM THE LEGENDS! His might will one day compare to Erapta himself! And the revenge that he will take on you will only be a forgotten tale among his destined glory! Ludan is his name, and I am sure he will never rest until you have suffered a thousand deaths."
The standing guard frenetically splurted his threat. The madman put all of his heart and none of his mind into his words to the point that it was hard on hearing. It seemed to have an effect, though, as the kneeling guard also started to laugh, albeit with less enthusiasm. A few ailing humbles left his mouth amidst the chortles, but nothing that could be made sense of.
Mac wanted to poke his ear as an idiotic joke, but this time he realized that only his broken arm was free and that dawdling his crushed ear was not a good idea to pair. Instead, he decided to settle for a more safe, more traumatizing joke.
"Damn! This Ludan guy sounds dangerous and strong as fuck" He realized mid-sentence that just now he was learning about the name of the cultivator he killed last night. Not that he would remember by the end of the day. "Oh boy, I sure am in a pickle right now!" Nevertheless, he continued. "Hey, Luterio! You are this mighty cultivator's son, right? Do you think you can convince him to spare poor me?"
The two guards, somehow, laughed even more due to Mac's words. They failed to catch the sarcasm. It appeared they were going more insane by the minute. A mixture of relief and joy right after the sense of despair that Mac bought was too wild of a change for their minds. But they suddenly stopped as something in front of them changed.
Slowly and frailly, Luterio raised his head to the side. His face, tainted by his own blood and the dirt he once stepped on, came into full view to Mac, which surprised him greatly.
Beyond the personification of shame and disgust that clouded Luterio's expression, Mac noticed the light in his eyes, a deeply disturbed and sorrowful light. For a brief and forgotten moment, Mac thought he was looking in a mirror.
He awkwardly edged Luterio away in distress, but Luterio's last arm, in a similar fashion to his father, abruptly gained life and grabbed Mac by the neck. There was no strength nor intent to strangle him, the crippled man just wanted to look Mac in the eye.
"You killed him." He mumbled with the last of his strengths. "You killed my father. You, YOU, Mac Key Kast, killed a cultivator! Do you have the slightest idea what that means?! Or, at least, what is supposed to mean?!"
Luterio's glare ignited with a stream of rage. "Why are you wasting your time with these weaklings?! You can crush their skull with a swing of your weapon! Why are you even talking to them when their destiny is reaped? You are supposed to be the strongest, right!? You killed a fucking cultivator, after all! Doesn't that mean anything?"
Luterio seemed to calm down as his cries weakened. The fury in his eyes got replaced with a mixture of affliction and dismay. "Does my father's death really mean nothing to you?"
Despite the broken jaw, Luterio clenched his teeth with a pain that did not come from his injuries. His whole life he idolatrized cultivators and their power. He wished to be like them, to one day reach the state he believed to be akin to a god. Someone who was, by nature and fate, infinitely superior to others, the true rulers of the world!
And yet, there was someone who completely proved him wrong. Someone who destroyed his army in one night, basically by himself. Someone who managed to extinguish a cultivator to nothing. Luterio could have understood if that person was another, more potent, cultivator. He could have acquiesced that was just how this world works, and that nature and fate were following its fundamentals. But the reality couldn't be this simple, could it?
No! Because the man who won, the one that swung the child of a cultivator around with no care in the world, that man was Mac fucking Key Kast! Luterio could never summon a more opposite image to his ideals.
The man who destroyed Luterio and everything he believed just stared as his mind went peaceful. Mac got an honest fright from his previous-soulless puppet, but the words that Luterio so desperately screamed with pain and blood only improved Mac's humor.
There were not a lot of things that could make him happier than hearing his enemy breaking down.
"Anyway," He interrupted himself midsentence with wild laughter as he turned back to face the two guards who had stayed put throughout Luterio's whole speech. Mac realized that the not-so-soothing words from their leader damaged their spirit more than he ever could. The will of the madmen finally broke, and so his plan succeeded. His Hidden Will was his trump card to avoid hurting himself. "Both of you, bow with your head to the ground. Now!"
The invaders who had listened to their leader declaring to the world how their last hope died a purposeless death had no power to resist Mac's. They pushed their head against the ground and didn't utter a word.