Chereads / Transcendence: A Father's Second Chance / Chapter 35 - Chapter 35: The Turning Tide

Chapter 35 - Chapter 35: The Turning Tide

The air in the tavern seemed to freeze the moment Lorento's soldiers advanced again. Clara's muscles tensed, her senses sharpened as the clash of steel echoed once more through the confined space. Elysia darted ahead, moving like a shadow, her sword cutting through the chaos with swift precision. But Clara's focus was entirely on Lorento, whose cold, calculating gaze never left her.

"Take him out, and they'll break," Clara muttered under her breath, glancing at Kaelan. He nodded, his jaw tight with determination.

Kaelan slashed through another soldier, his mind working as quickly as his blade. Lorento was too calm, too assured of his position. This wasn't the first time the Thornhills had faced overwhelming odds, but something about this felt different. More dangerous. More personal.

Lorento stepped forward, his boots clicking against the blood-slick floor. "You know, Clara, you can't win this fight. You're only delaying the inevitable. Why throw your life away?"

Clara ignored his words, focusing on parrying an incoming attack from a soldier who had broken through their defense. She gritted her teeth as the force of the blow reverberated through her arms.

"You think I'd surrender so easily?" she shot back, pushing the soldier away and slashing across his chest.

"You misunderstand me," Lorento replied, his tone annoyingly casual. "It's not just your life on the line, is it? There's a lot more at stake than you realize."

The ominousness of his words sent a chill down Clara's spine. Was he bluffing, or did he know something she didn't?

Suddenly, a loud crash came from behind them, followed by shouts from the villagers near the back. A second wave of Lorento's men had stormed through the rear of the tavern, blindsiding those who had been stationed there. Chaos erupted again as the villagers scrambled to hold the line, their defensive formation faltering.

"We're being overrun!" Kaelan shouted, his voice strained as he fought to regain control of the situation.

Clara's heart pounded in her chest. They had underestimated Lorento—he was always one step ahead. But they couldn't afford to lose ground now.

"We push back now!" Clara ordered. "Kaelan, Elysia—focus on Lorento's men at the back. I'll handle him."

Kaelan hesitated for a moment, glancing at Lorento. "Be careful," he warned before turning to help the villagers push back the second wave of attackers.

Clara's grip tightened on her sword as she turned to face Lorento. His amused smile faded slightly, replaced by a glimmer of interest. "A brave decision," he mused. "But foolish."

Without another word, Lorento drew his weapon—a curved, wickedly sharp blade that gleamed even in the dim light of the tavern. His movements were swift and fluid, far more skilled than any of his men. He closed the distance between them with terrifying speed, his blade arcing toward her.

Clara barely had time to react, raising her sword to block the blow. The impact sent a jolt through her arms, but she held her ground. Lorento's strength was far greater than she expected.

"You've made quite the name for yourself, Thornhill," Lorento said, his voice smooth even as their blades clashed. "But you're still just a pawn in a much larger game."

Clara grunted, pushing back against his attack. "And what does that make you? The one pulling the strings?"

Lorento chuckled softly, his blade sliding dangerously close to her. "I'm more than that. You'll understand soon enough."

He pressed the attack, forcing Clara back with each strike. She parried and countered, but Lorento's skill was undeniable. His strikes were precise, calculated to wear her down.

"Give it up, Clara," he whispered, his voice unnervingly calm. "You're only delaying your fate."

Clara's jaw tightened. She could feel her muscles tiring, but surrender wasn't an option. She had faced impossible odds before. She wouldn't let Lorento break her.

Just as Lorento raised his blade for another strike, a blur of motion caught Clara's eye. Elysia, swift and silent, lunged from behind Lorento, her blade aimed for his side. But Lorento was faster than either of them anticipated. He spun, his own sword deflecting Elysia's attack with a single fluid motion.

"Ah, the assassin," Lorento said, almost amused. "I wondered when you'd make your move."

Elysia glared at him, her eyes filled with cold determination. "You talk too much," she hissed, striking again.

The fight became a blur of blades, Clara and Elysia working in tandem to corner Lorento. But he moved like a shadow, slipping between their strikes with a grace that belied his size and strength.

Despite their best efforts, Lorento never seemed to falter. Every step, every strike, was calculated. He was toying with them.

Then, with a sudden and vicious strike, Lorento disarmed Elysia, sending her sword skidding across the floor. Before she could react, he grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off the ground with terrifying ease.

"No!" Clara shouted, rushing forward.

But Lorento was faster. He turned, using Elysia as a shield, his blade pressed dangerously close to her neck.

"Take one more step, and she dies," he said, his voice low and menacing.

Clara froze, her sword poised in mid-air. Elysia struggled in his grasp, but Lorento's hold was like iron.

"You're out of options, Clara," Lorento said, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "Surrender the artifact, or she dies."

Clara's heart raced, her mind scrambling for a solution. She couldn't let him win. But if she moved, Elysia would be—

Suddenly, the door burst open.

A blast of cold air swept through the tavern, and through the doorway stepped Marcus, flanked by Alaric and a group of villagers.

"Clara!" Marcus shouted, his eyes widening at the sight of Lorento holding Elysia hostage.

For a brief moment, Lorento's eyes flicked to Marcus. That was all the opening Clara needed. In a flash, she surged forward, her blade slicing through the air. Lorento, caught off guard, released Elysia to block Clara's attack, but it was too late. Clara's sword struck true, slashing across his arm.

Lorento let out a snarl of pain, staggering back. Blood dripped from his wound, but his eyes blazed with fury. "This isn't over," he growled, his voice filled with venom.

Before Clara could press the attack, Lorento darted toward the open door, slipping into the night like a shadow. His men, seeing their leader retreat, quickly followed.

The battle was over, but Clara knew this was only the beginning.