'Huff...Huff...'
Sullivan felt like he was dying.
Every footstep felt like stepping on a thousand nails and every breathe heightened the burning sensation within his chest. His hunched back screamed in pain as he struggled to move the logs that were strapped on to him like vengeful ghosts. To further add onto his sorrow, the sheer weight of the logs made the rope around him tighten, scraping his fair skin and burning it red.
There were eight logs around the same size, each one being at least half of his weight that bore down heavily on his body. Every step would take all of his willpower to execute whilst every muscles would ache in pain regardless of his action. He wanted, and needed, to take a break; but he knew that his father was watching. He knew that if he was caught in the act he would have to face his wrath and be made to do something much, much more challenging.
With that thought in mind, he renewed his resolve and took one small step at a time, wheezing with exhaustion in the process. His gear was in shambles as holes and tears appeared all over due to the constant use and abuse it had to go through, becoming worthless scrap that can't even cover most of his body from the cold. Yet, behind his pathetic state, any who saw the boy would find well-defined muscles bulging out from his tattered attire as he pressed on with determination. Taking even the most insignificant steps to reach his final goal.
Every training regime that his father had set up for the past several months had only been getting harder and harder as he continued to keep adding extra logs and laps onto Sullivan, forcing him to take part in an excruciating exercise which only demons could come up! Thus, his father, like the demon he is, also made the boy do various of other tasks that no child should be put through, such as swimming in a large freezing body of water with logs attached to his back or climbing a frigid mountain with even more logs strapped to his back. For some reason, his father has a fixation on large logs and Sullivan was worried that his back might be irreversibly damage if this continued on for long.
It was so physically and mentally draining that even Demons would fear taking part... and he had to overcome this ungodly regime on a daily basis with the terrible state the boy's [Mark] is in. If the training was too intense for him, he would have to get healed by his father's [Bestowal Arts].
Yet, that did not stop his father from forcing him to continue his training with an intensity that seemingly snowballs without stop. Therefore, on multiple occasions, he had been pushed to his very limits. No matter the strength, endurance and agility he had accumulated, he was always utterly exhausted by the end of it. In fact, the training was so exhausting that Sullivan couldn't remember a single moment where he thought he wouldn't drop dead in the process.
This type of thinking was demoralizing as he believed that he made absolutely no progress since the beginning. However, what the boy didn't realize was that the fruits of his efforts were way beyond expectation. Anyone who bore witness to the sight would not be able to make a connection between this muscular and extremely handsome boy in front of them to his frail self half a year ago. His entire body practically went through a rebirth, something not even his own father expected, as the boy's toned abs and sturdy muscles significantly boosted his charms and looks. So much so that the boy's father even began suspecting if he was really his child.
He was just too damn handsome!
However, despite feeling slightly inferior to a fourteen year old boy, Durivan still felt extremely proud. He knew such a boon will provide Sullivan numerous instances of aid when he really needed it, especially so when he decides to travel the world whilst no one in his family are looking after him. However, it will likewise act as a double-edged sword that would often beget jealousy and malice, as that is the dog-eat-dog world they live in. Durivan hopes that the latter will never come to be.
However, his thoughts were not solely focused about the safety of his own children, but the grandchildren they could potentially give him and his wife. Sullivan's personality and looks are like a magnet to even the most coldest of women out there, so getting a grandchild is relatively easy compared to his other siblings. Eva, unfortunately, has extremely high standards due to growing up with the very symbol of beauty and she is quite aggressive to all boys except her brothers...
... Whilst Zurivan is Zurivan.
Of course, Sullivan and the rest were not made known to their father's thoughts since none of his expressions explicitly revealed anything. Actually, to them, his poker face had remained almost the same for as long as they can remember!
CLICK! TICK TICK TICK TICK
As the boy was still wallowing on his own failure as a man, a clicking sound, followed by a flurry of rapid ticks, shattered his thinking as they drill into his ears. He looked down in a brief moment of confusion before his face quickly turned deathly pale. 'Oh no', the boy thought as he immediately knew he stepped on a trap.
His back shot up in fright as the logs clinging to his back swung powerfully in the opposite direction, slightly throwing him off balance. Yet he quickly got his bearing as his swollen feet, that he was just dragging a moment ago, suddenly obtained new found power in desperation. He placed all his concentration on his legs as he quickly dashed to the right with all the force he could muster. Then, in a blink of an eye, a huge metal 'mouth' with sharp 'teeth' mercilessly chomped the area where Sullivan used to be, giving him a cold sweat mid-air. Though, he wasn't relieved, he knew this was just the beginning.
During his months in training, he often came across these traps on the outer edges of the field. A remnant of his own sisters training. Each one was capable of harming cultivators, much less his cultivation-less self. So he tried with all his might to avoid these traps as much as possible. Fortunately, anytime they're triggered a sound of a spring would occur to inform him beforehand when it was about to activate. A feature he believed that his father deliberately placed so that training would be a bit easier for his sister. However, to Sullivan, it was definitely not easy, and he knew the worse of it has yet to come.
Without hesitation, he attempted to stand up in a hurry only to step on something slippery beneath the snow, falling onto on the cold ground again. He instantly got nervous as he wasted too much time. He knew the grace period of the traps, and he knew that if he doesn't get out of the area quick, he was genuinely done for.
He quickly yet carefully stood up and then wildly took off, disregarding the banging sounds behind him as the logs hit one another or rub on his back painfully. Then, almost on cue, numerous springing sounds reverberated in the area around him. His face paled even more at a visible rate as his heart immediately dropped in fear.
There were too many springs! Too many traps! There was no way he could live through this! The boy started to panic as he realized he was in the most dangerous situation that he had ever been in his entire life. Even the near death beating he had six months ago did not trigger so many warning bells like now.
There was no way out. He could not see an opportunity as no matter what direction he looked, there were just uncountable ticking sounds mixing together like a choir of death and despair. Destroying his hopes with every 'chorus' that pounded into his mind. He knew that if he took one wrong step then he might get burnt, skewered, chopped, sliced, crushed or more.
He felt utterly hopeless.
As he looked around his surroundings in despair, he began counting the amount of simultaneous ticks echoing throughout the freezing air. His thoughts filled with his family and the beautiful scenery of white which he assumed will be his grave. He closed his eyes in acceptance and waited.
CLINK
BOOM BOOM FWISH CHOMP SHING BOOM
The area erupted chaotically with explosions, metal clashing with metal and projectiles flying through the air as if a war of immense proportions suddenly broke out. The sound was almost deafening as the environment was laid to waste by the shear ferocity and firepower these traps were letting out, sundering the ground to pieces and scaring beasts in a 3 mile radius away. It was so earth-shattering that the village also experienced a mini-earthquake.
"What's going on?!" One villager nervously said.
"I felt some vibrations in the distance... I wonder what that could be?" Another villager thought, losing himself and mumbling, "Probably some powerful beasts fighting for territory?"
"No way! No beast in a thousand-mile radius has that power!" Hearing the previous remark, a random warrior immediately refuted the claim. "I have always gone out hunting in the deep forests, experienced many things and battled many beasts but I have never felt such a power on a beast before!"
The villagers gathered after feeling those vibrations, clearly shaken of the danger this potentially represented. This was not a good sign at all.
"Everybody, please remain calm! I can assure you we are definitely safe, I have already set out a few capable warriors to get to the bottom of this." Suddenly, a rough voice sounded out behind them. They all turned and gazed at a large bald man with a black bear coat. His face was covered in small scars which made anyone who stared at him feel fear and two sharp yet beady eyes that could seemingly kill with a look, further highlighting his ferocity. He towered the other villagers as he spoke with an assuring tone, completely in contrast with his current looks.
"Village Chief! Thank god you're here! If you think we're safe, then there is no use to dwell on the matter anymore." The previously nervous villager immediately beamed, a smile of relief appearing on his face.
"You're our savior!"
Watching their facial expressions relax, the Village Chief Rodrick nodded in affirmation. He was a respected figure of the village and is considered as one of the most or the most powerful warrior around. He was kind, caring and a dependable figure that almost everybody in village turned to when something they cannot handle appears. He is the guardian of the village and a heroic figure in the eyes of the younger generation. However, for some reason, such a man has yet to marry and have children, which seemed rather odd to the villagers. Thus leading many to believe that he is not capable of doing so down below, which is somewhat pitiable for a man of his standing. Though, despite his great reputation, not everybody respected his authority.
"It's fine Rodrick, I already have it under control. No need to call your men." Before Rodrick could issue orders, a monotone and indifferent voice cut him off. Like a ghost, an imposing figure appeared by the group of villagers without notice, startling some in the process. He was slightly smaller than the Village Chief yet still much taller than the rest of the group. His face was stoic and cold, akin to a statue of an old warrior whilst his emerald green eyes stared seemingly at their souls, making them shiver despite their thick coats giving them warmth.
Having recognized the figure, Rodrick frowned slightly but quickly hid it with a smile as if to avoid the figure in front of him from noticing, he quickly greeted him, "Durivan! Been a while, huh?"
Durivan, having already noticed his facade, turned away with indifference, clearly not minding - nor caring - what Rodrick thought, he 'courteously' replied, "Indeed it has. I believe we last met a year ago? You should visit Shiva and I sometime for a nice meal, perhaps teach our children a few things that you learnt over your years leading this village."
Rodrick slightly trembled the moment Durivan voiced out the words 'Shiva', but quickly reverted back to normal conversing as if nothing had happened, "Oh? Perhaps I can take you up on that offer with you and... Shiva... in a later date. However, now we need to talk about what you just said a moment ago."
"I hope you know that those vibrations can potentially be terrible omens in these frozen wastelands. If it is a huge threat, then we need to get a better idea what we're dealing with. I cannot call them back merely because you believe you can handle it."
The Village Chief was still spoke in his usual deep and assuring tone, however, sharp villagers were able to tell a small bit of irritation in the mix. The atmosphere turned dark as each one of them shut their mouths in silence whilst looking between the two figures. If even this Chief's irritation can be detected by a bunch of normal villagers, how could it possibly escape the ears of Durivan before him? In fact, he even managed to detect Rodrick's strange behavior earlier after the mention of Shiva. Therefore, for a moment, Durivan watched Rodrick without any emotion or reaction before opening his mouth with the same attitude he had before.
Suddenly, at the sight of Durivan's mouth opening, all of the villagers felt pressure and a bone piercing cold surrounding their body's, causing goosebumps to appear all over their arms as their hairs stiffly stood up in one end, like frozen corpses in the middle of a blizzard.
"What? Don't think I can handle it?"
"No one can handle me. Understand?"
A chill ran down the groups spine as those words echoed through air. Some fell down in fear and others blanked out with shock. What an imposing figure! What arrogant words! The sheer audacity!
'Did he just treat him like a child?!' Many couldn't help but think.
With those thoughts, every villager quickly turned to Rodrick in bewilderment, but only found themselves spiraling further into shock. Rodrick was clenching his teeth incredibly hard, as if they he wanted to shatter them on the spot. His face was incredibly red, like a tomato, and his fists were clenched so hard many detected a sliver of blood running through the gaps of his rough fist. It was clear that he was furious and many were utterly dumbfounded since his current state was foreign to them. Was he going to kill the arrogant man before him right then and there or is he going to pummel him black and blue?
As they started to get worried, Rodrick turned around fuming whilst Durivan still remained standing in place, watching him with the same expressionless demeanor that he had in this entire exchange. The Village Chief stomped on the ground in anger, causing the area around them to shake and throw off some villagers off their feet. Without showing his face, he began walking away.
"I will not do anything! But if it is something you cant handle and bring danger to the village, you are the first that I will kill!" Leaving the threat behind, Rodrick quickly left the scene without looking back, almost as if he was afraid that he might pounce on the unreasonable 'ass' and give him a beating if he looked at him one more time. Durivan looked at the back of the huge figure until he slowly disappeared within the veil of falling snow in the distance, watching him until his figure could no longer be seen. Then he turned around and, in a blink of an eye, disappeared from the spot. Leaving in the exact same way he came, like a ghost shrouded in the snow.
The villagers were a bit confused by this exchange. They were too many people in the village for each person to be familiar with one another, but everybody knew about Durivan and his wife as they were quite famous. However, nobody quite knew exactly the history between him and Rodrick since clearly from this exchange they do not have the best relationship around. In fact, some could say they are fairly hostile between one another, as if they rivals trying to out do one another. Though, before they could gossip, their hairs once again stood up in one end and suddenly, like a thunder strike in the middle of the day, a cold voice powerfully drilled through their ears.
"Like I said before, none can handle Durivan."