Chapter 19: Crimson Fang Strikes Ashveil
The sun was just beginning to rise over Ashveil when the first signs of trouble appeared.
Rhaizen had barely returned from the forest. His clothes were dirty, his arms scraped, and his body still recovering from the last fight. He rushed straight to Elder Jonas to report what he found—but the elder wasn't in the town hall.
Instead, two guards came running toward Rhaizen, breathless, terrified.
"Rhaizen! Rhaizen!" one of them shouted. "It's the Crimson Fang—"
Rhaizen's head snapped up. "What about them?"
"They're coming," the second guard panted. "Not a small group. A full strike force. We saw them from the watchtower—forty, maybe more!"
Rhaizen's stomach dropped.
Forty.
That wasn't a raid.
That was a full attack.
"Get the Elder," Rhaizen said. "Get everyone ready. Sound the alarm!"
"We tried!" the guard said, shaking. "It's too late! They're already at the outer road!"
A loud horn sounded in the distance.
A cry of warning.
Then screams.
Rhaizen didn't waste another second.
He sprinted toward the main street, pushing past townspeople already panicking. Mothers grabbed their children. Shop owners slammed their doors. Some froze in fear, unable to move.
"Everyone inside!" Rhaizen yelled. "Lock your doors!"
But he knew people wouldn't move fast enough.
He had to buy time.
Shadows moved at the far end of the street.
Red cloth.
Raised weapons.
Cruel grins.
The Crimson Fang poured into the town like a flood of wolves.
---
The Attack Begins
The first wave of bandits charged through the gate, shouting and yelling like they owned the place.
"Take everything!"
"Grab whatever you want!"
"Kill the guards first!"
"Find the boy who fights with fire!"
Rhaizen heard that last shout and clenched his jaw.
So they were looking for him.
Good.
He wanted them to see him.
He stepped into the center of the street, planting his feet, black-red aura flickering faintly around him.
A bandit spotted him.
"Hey! There he is! The kid who killed our squads!"
Five of them rushed at once.
Rhaizen met the first one with a punch to the jaw.
The crack echoed through the street, and the man dropped immediately.
The second swung a club—Rhaizen ducked under, hit his ribs, then kicked his knee.
Another down.
But the third was faster.
He swung two knives at Rhaizen. Metal scraped Rhaizen's forearm, drawing blood. Rhaizen grabbed the man's wrist, twisted hard, and slammed a knee into his chin.
The last two hesitated for a moment, but then charged.
Guard spears flew past Rhaizen, hitting both bandits in the chest. Guards from Ashveil finally joined the fight, their faces pale but determined.
"Rhaizen!" one guard called. "We'll hold this area—go help the others!"
Rhaizen nodded and sprinted toward the next street.
The screams grew louder.
Crimson Fang had split into groups, attacking homes, smashing carts, pulling people out of hiding.
Rhaizen felt his blood boil.
"This town helped me," he whispered. "I won't let you destroy it."
---
Chaos in the Streets
Ashveil was turning into a battlefield.
Smoke rose from burning houses.
Fallen guards lay on the ground.
Women carried their kids, running from attackers.
Men held farming tools like weapons, trying to defend their families.
But the Crimson Fang were trained.
Strong.
And cruel.
Rhaizen reached a square where three bandits cornered a young couple.
"Get away from them!" he shouted.
They turned.
He struck first.
Crimson Step activated—his movement became sharp and fast. He dashed between them, landing three quick blows.
One fell instantly.
The second stumbled backward.
The third tried to grab the woman again—
Rhaizen punched him so hard he hit the wall.
The woman sobbed. "Thank you—thank you—"
"Hide in your home," Rhaizen said quickly. "Don't come out until you hear the town bell three times."
She nodded and ran.
Rhaizen turned back to the street.
The screams were getting louder.
He ran toward them.
---
Outnumbered
Near the town market, the worst of the fighting had started.
Ten Crimson Fang bandits surrounded four guards, pushing them back step by step. The guards fought hard, but they were weaker and lacked proper training.
Rhaizen jumped into the fight.
He punched one bandit off his feet, kicked another in the stomach, and blocked a sword slash from a third.
But there were too many.
Three bandits came at him at once—
One from the front, one from behind, one from the side.
Rhaizen ducked under a sword swing, twisted away from a grab, then elbowed the attacker behind him—but the third hit him in the back with a club.
He staggered forward, gasping.
Another bandit rushed him.
Rhaizen barely dodged. His body felt slow. His Qi wasn't fully recovered from last night.
He needed to be careful.
He couldn't fight like last time.
He couldn't burn all his Qi.
Not yet.
He tightened his stance and focused on defense.
Block.
Step.
Hit only when needed.
He managed to drop two more bandits, but more kept coming.
A guard yelled, "There are too many! We can't hold them!"
"Yes, you can," Rhaizen shouted back. "Just protect the people!"
He noticed another group of bandits trying to break into homes.
Another pulling people out.
Another setting shops on fire.
Rhaizen's chest tightened.
He couldn't be everywhere.
"Think," he told himself.
He needed control.
Not chaos.
Not blind fighting.
---
Simple Tactics
Rhaizen climbed onto a market stall and yelled loud enough for everyone nearby to hear:
"GUARDS! FORM TWO LINES AROUND THE PEOPLE!"
The guards turned to him, confused.
They weren't used to giving orders or receiving them from a child.
But Rhaizen shouted again:
"Protect the center! Keep the families behind you! Make the bandits come to one place!"
It was simple, but it worked.
The guards quickly pulled the townspeople together, forming a circle around them. Spears pointed outward. Shields raised.
Bandits tried to rush the group, but now they faced a wall instead of scattered victims.
Rhaizen took the front position.
"Come on!" he shouted at the bandits. "Fight me!"
The bandits charged.
Rhaizen struck the first.
Dodged the second.
Kicked the third.
Blocked the fourth.
But even with his strength, he began to feel the weight of every attack.
He had already fought dozens.
His arms trembled.
His legs felt heavy.
A sword cut across his shoulder.
Rhaizen winced, blood dripping down his arm.
Another bandit swung. Rhaizen blocked, but the impact pushed him backward.
He stumbled, breathing hard.
These weren't weak thugs.
Some were first-rate.
Some were close to master level.
And worst of all—
There were still more coming from the east side.
Rhaizen gritted his teeth.
"I can't lose…"
He pushed himself forward again.
---
Crimson Fang Reinforcements
More footsteps echoed down the road.
Heavy.
Slow.
Disciplined.
Rhaizen turned—and his eyes widened.
Fifteen more Crimson Fang fighters entered the market street.
They all wore better armor.
Their weapons were clean and sharp.
Their movements were solid.
They weren't simple bandits.
They were elite fighters.
The guards froze.
"We're dead…" one guard whispered.
"No we're not," Rhaizen growled. "Move back, all of you!"
He stepped in front of them again.
His right hand shook.
His left arm burned.
His breathing was rough.
But he didn't step back.
Not an inch.
One elite bandit smirked.
"This the brat the boss wants?"
Another laughed.
"You sure he's the one? Looks half-dead already."
"Doesn't matter," the third said. "Kill him."
Rhaizen's black-red aura flickered weakly around his fists.
He took a stance.
His vision blurred at the edges.
But he didn't let it break him.
"Come," he said.
And they did.
---
The Breaking Point
Three elite fighters rushed first.
Rhaizen dodged the first slash, countered with a punch, but the second fighter hit him in the ribs. Sharp pain shot through his side.
He tried to block the follow-up strike, but the third fighter swept his leg from under him.
He rolled on the ground, barely avoiding a downward slash that would have cut him in half.
He got up—
Only to get hit in the shoulder by a heavy mace.
Rhaizen collapsed to one knee, teeth gritted.
Blood dripped from his lip.
His arms shook heavily.
He could still fight…
But not for long.
A guard shouted, "Rhaizen! Get back! We'll try—"
"No!" Rhaizen yelled. "Protect the people! I'll hold them!"
Another elite fighter swung at his neck.
Rhaizen barely ducked.
He used Crimson Step—moving fast enough to dodge the hit and land a counterpunch to the man's face. Blood sprayed.
But that drained more Qi.
Too much.
His knees trembled.
He almost fell.
More elite fighters stepped forward.
"You're done, kid," one said, raising his sword.
Rhaizen forced himself to stand again.
"No… not yet…"
He couldn't lose.
Not here.
Not with families watching.
Not while Ashveil still had hope.
He glared at the bandits.
"This town helped me," he growled. "I won't let you take it."
His aura flickered again—weak but stubborn.
He took one shaky step forward.
The elite fighter laughed.
"You're brave, brat. Stupid, but brave."
He raised his sword for the finishing blow.
And then—
A loud, heavy voice echoed from the end of the street.
"STOP."
Everyone turned.
A large man stepped out from the smoke.
Tall. Muscular. Wearing a full red shoulder guard and carrying a huge axe across his back.
His presence alone froze the entire street.
He wasn't a normal bandit.
Not even an elite fighter.
He was something else.
The man cracked his neck, glaring directly at Rhaizen.
"So," he said with a deep, mocking tone,
"you're the brat who keeps ruining our plans."
Rhaizen's eyes widened.
A Crimson Fang Captain.
A real monster.
And the chapter ends here.