A couple of minutes earlier, just as the crimson light from the mirror faded, the Boss clicked his tongue. He had just wasted an extra Mana Crystal.
If only those pesky brats that defended the half-blood succumbed to the first attack. Then, he needn't have used such a precious resource. As it was though, he couldn't change the events that had already happened.
The bald man crushed the remnants of the translucent crystal - which had lost a large portion of its luster - with a snap. He allowed his thoughts to stray towards the future and the possibility of working under the Stanburg Family.
As long as his superiors paid him well, he really didn't care what he would have to do. Once they satiated his greed, he would be more than happy to do their bidding.
The Noble House could even help him form a mana core if he performed exceptionally.
Recalling how he had come by the magical mirror in the first place, a subtle shiver racked the Boss's spine. 'That' group was probably even more dangerous than the medium-sized noble family tasked with protecting the borders of the Augustus empire.
Shaking his head, the bandit leader stared at his young master's peers. The sight of so many petrified youths did not shake him.
His eyes remained emotionless and even flickered with disdain once his gaze paused on the half-blood.
'Dirty half-breed.' he sneered internally.
The Boss shifted his gaze and eyed the only two people who had stood up for the half-blood with a contemplative frown. Since he had experienced the futility of this world first-hand, the older man wondered why on earth someone would so willingly throw their future away for the sake of a friend.
Shouldn't they have prioritised themselves first?
The bald man shook his head ruefully. Truly a good waste of talent that the human race could have utilised in the future. Especially that brown-haired trainee who was able to deal with his young master and even wound him, albeit to a small degree.
Even so, it served to further prove his courage and skill. Such a shame that it had been misguided!
The Boss yawned slightly, not worried that any of the youths could escape the spell he had put them under. The only way anyone could get out was if they managed to overcome their biggest fears or trauma.
Looking at these young kids who showed no signs of resolving any of their inner conflicts, the man with the golden necklace issued a relaxed sigh, suppressing his impatience at getting this whole debacle over and done with as soon as possible.
He turned his head to the side, his senses picking up the echo of a heated discussion. Shifty and Skinny slowly made their way over to his location.
"I'm telling you, there's no better feeling than getting drunk at the end of the day! Especially using someone else's money to pay for the drink…. that just hits the right spot! Splurging your money on dolls is just pathetic!" The man with the limp sneered.
An ugly expression appeared on the scrawny man's face in response. He looked ready to kill.
"At least it's better than drowning myself in drinks and then getting kicked by a horse."
This time it was Shifty's turn for his expression to twist. "At least my father actually cared for me. May that poor old sod rest in peace."
Skinny clenched his sword tightly with bloodshot eyes. "Say that again. I dare you…" he growled through gritted teeth.
"That's enough!"
Just before Shifty could continue to goad his fellow bandit, a booming voice streamed into his ears. He turned around and faced his leader, who had a scowl on his face.
"I don't care whether you drink yourself to sleep or play with some small little dolls…" the bald man sent a weird glance at the thin bandit, before continuing in a harsh tone, "No, what I care about is getting this mission over as quickly as humanly possible. So, unless being inebriated causes your combat prowess to skyrocket, I don't give a rat's ass about what you do in your downtime."
The bandit leader glowered at his subordinates. His eyes seemed to be asking why they had travelled so far from their posts.
Shifty sent Skinny an angry look as if blaming him for them being scolded - which almost caused the scrawny bandit to go over the edge.
The man with the limp cleared his throat, "We, uh, thought that after you used that mirror, there was no point in doing anything else, since Young Master Lucas probably wants to deal with the scourge- I mean, half-blood, by himself. We can dispose of that raven-haired youth later and dump his body in the woods."
The Boss shifted his gaze, his eyes trailing after his young master's figure. It seemed the esteemed heir wanted to finish off his brown-haired opponent before turning his attention toward the half-blood.
The bald man nodded reluctantly. Shifty's words made sense.
He pressed his lips into a thin line, crossed his arms, and tapped his feet impatiently against the ground.
'For the love of the Lord, please hurry up.'
Just then, the Boss suppressed the sudden unease that had appeared in his stomach.
He scoffed internally.
Nothing could go wrong…
***
Henry cautiously opened his eyes. He blinked rapidly as he unconsciously staggered. The events he had witnessed turned his face deathly pale.
After the crimson light engulfed his vision, Henry found that, what he presumed to be a mysterious and sinister spell, evoked his deepest fears. It started off mild - well, relatively so - where his parents expressed their disappointment at his lack of talent.
Then things slowly started to escalate.
The next event he observed showed him coming back from the Awakening Ceremony all scratched up and the bearer of bad news. The ashen expressions and utter despair his family exhibited upon hearing that he had failed to form a core, made Henry feel sick to his stomach.
Some bile crept up his throat before the young farmer forcefully pushed it down amidst the acidic burn.
It got worse.
The last thing Henry saw was him opening the door to his home and stumbling upon the dead corpses of his parents. Their flesh was bloodied, torn, and mangled, particularly in the chest area. It was as if something had punched a hole right through them.
His mother and father wore aggrieved expressions as if lamenting to the heavens why they had endured so much, only to meet such a pitiful end.
Henry inhaled a shaky breath, trying his best to calm himself down. He reminded himself that these were all his inner fears and not something that had occurred in reality.
A determined look crossed his features soon after. The only reason he managed to escape the quagmire he was in, lay with what he had seen during the trials.
The man who constantly thrust his spear had helped Henry form his own conviction… and realise what was truly important in life: valuing the present.
So far, all the green-eyed farmer had been doing was focusing too much on the future. He agonised over whether he could successfully overcome the Awakening Ceremony, to the point where it had become an obsession.
One, where he had experienced quite a few sleepless nights as a result.
Henry bit the inside of his gums to stop his thoughts from going on a tangent.
He surreptitiously scanned his surroundings, trying to stay as still as a statue and not give any indication that he had escaped the harrowing ordeal the mirror had put him through.
His injured shoulder throbbed painfully. Yet, Henry paid it no mind. He had more important things that required his immediate attention.
From the corner of his vision, he discovered the White Cobras huddled together. To his relief, the raven-haired farmer noticed that the figures of the two bandits who fought him and Leon obscured the other bandits from gazing at him.
A sigh of relief unconsciously escaped Henry's mouth.
He noted that beside him, his burly friend remained trapped in the mirror's spell; no doubt reliving something extremely traumatic.
A pang of sadness filled his chest.
He shook his head softly and carefully turned his head slowly to the left. All that remained was to make sure Nico was all right.
After that, he could start to come up with some sort of plan that might aid them. Not that he thought they could break free of their current predicament.
The whole situation was just really, really, grim. Biting the inside of his cheeks again, Henry narrowed his eyes.
On the western side of the clearing, a solitary figure stood. Their body was frozen to the spot, not moving an inch. From their posture, they seemed to be in the midst of a difficult internal struggle.
A distance away, another figure was rushing up to the lone trainee. A wicked glint appeared in his crimson eyes. His face twisted into a victorious sneer.
'Nico!' Henry gasped silently, somehow not making any noise. He had one last, urgent peek toward the White Cobras before spurring into action.
'Blasted Appleseed's…. Blasted Appleseed's… Blasted Appleseed's!'
The young farmer cursed in his mind, abandoning any semblance of caution. He inwardly prayed to all the Transcendent beings to help him in his time of need.
Henry groaned internally, his injured shoulder on fire. His running with abandon did nothing but aggravate the wound even further.
Yet, Henry did not care.
His friend's life was on the line!
As the haughty noble neared within a couple of metres of his brown-haired companion, Henry's face turned grim. He gritted his teeth and strained his battered body further.
'Just a bit more!'
The next few seconds passed by in a blur. All Henry had in his mind was to stop the axe from touching Nico.
Just as Lucas tensed his shoulders and raised the menacing weapon in the air, the raven-haired farmer lunged forward, trying to place his body in the way of the strike.
With a crystal clear whoosh, the axe chopped downwards. Henry dazedly saw Nico's eyes flash green before the brown-haired boy snapped back into alertness.
He blinked and his eyes widened in terror. Yet, the farmer had arrived in the nick of time.
Time slowed to a crawl.
Henry groaned as the axe slowly cleaved through his good shoulder, and down the side of his body in what felt like slow motion.
A bright grin coloured his features.
He had made it, just barely.
'I'm sorry Mom and Dad, it seems I have failed you. Please forgive this unfilial son of yours.'
Feeling strangely calm and at peace with what was happening, Henry felt the axe cleave through more of his body.
Pain overwhelmed his senses. Yet even that seemed dull in comparison to the relief he felt.
As bright red blood spilled out of his mouth, he shifted his head and gasped, addressing Nico for the final time, "Nico, please look out for my family for me. I'm counting on you. You better not be joining me anytime soon, dearest little hen." The farmer smirked subtly through the pain.
The noble's axe finished slicing through the rest of his body.
Henry's lifeless body slumped to the ground, his eyes slowly turning listless, forever losing their shine.
Nico's agonised scream filled the air.