Chapter 83 The Golden Isaac
The night was deep.
Even the moonlight seemed obscured by dark clouds.
The sky was dim.
Logically, Isaac had practiced swordsmanship all day.
Even with the Purple Robe's essence replenishing his energy,
Isaac's penchant for overtraining left him extremely exhausted, both mentally and physically.
He should normally fall asleep the moment his head hits the pillow.
But now, Isaac tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
A strange, dangerous premonition lingered in his mind.
That premonition felt like needles pricking his brain.
It made him incredibly uncomfortable, preventing him from falling asleep...
So, the sleepless Isaac simply got up, intending to wash his face, drink some water, and cool off to relieve his unease.
However, just as he got up, his keen senses detected some movement in the courtyard?
Isaac frowned, but then relaxed...
Lately, he seemed a bit paranoid.
Perhaps it was just a few stray cats or mice that had wandered into the yard?
This wasn't uncommon.
Thinking this, Isaac took a deep breath, banishing those thoughts from his mind.
He continued on to the kitchen to get a drink of water...
...
Meanwhile, in the yard.
Several men climbed over the wall, each carrying swords and knives, their eyes gleaming menacingly.
To avoid alerting Isaac's family during their escape, they crept forward silently, making almost no sound unless one listened carefully.
The gate was locked; forcing it open would create a huge commotion.
That would cause unnecessary trouble...
So, the men exchanged glances and decided to climb in through the guest room window.
The burly man at the head of the group asked in a low voice:
"Do you know that tongueless slut?"
The men nodded.
"We'll climb over there and subdue her first..."
"But don't kill that bitch yet. Knock her unconscious... She's a good catch; many people are willing to pay a high price for her."
"Then we'll proceed according to plan..."
"Dump their entire family's bodies in the wilderness, claiming it was the work of wild animals..."
"Just like we did with that pockmarked man."
The burly man, knife in hand, repeatedly gave the orders.
The men moved with practiced ease; clearly, they had done this many times before.
In the past eight years, not only the pockmarked man, but many other influential figures with a sense of justice had been eliminated by them using this method.
They crept along the courtyard to the guest room.
To their surprise, the window was open; the blinds were slightly ajar, and moonlight streamed in, clearly illuminating the pale face of the sleeping woman inside...
They carefully opened the window and climbed in.
The beauty of so many Canaanites' dreams, dressed in loose clothing, revealing glimpses of her pale skin, breathing evenly, her eyelashes fluttering, lay before them, completely unguarded.
This caused the old patrons' breathing to quicken inexplicably.
The burly man, seeing this, pushed through the crowd and grabbed Shia's neck.
Nashia was jolted awake from her sleep, only to find several strange men in her room.
She instinctively wanted to scream, but the excruciating pain in her neck made it impossible for her to even breathe, let alone speak. She could only struggle desperately with her slender limbs, but the burly men held her firmly...
However, just as her terror reached its peak and her consciousness began to fade,
the door to the room was suddenly kicked open—
The boy with golden eyes stood there in the doorway,
staring at everything in disbelief.
His pupils trembled...
Then... upon recognizing the faces of those before him...
The scattered doubts suddenly formed a clear thread in his mind,
that intuition, beyond reason, almost precognitive...
gave him a definite answer—
They were intentionally concealing the Messiah's deeds...
The smell in the council chamber was the smell of women and their semen...
The pockmarked face was murdered, not died accidentally...
These people, like parasites, inhabited Canaan, gradually growing stronger, and when the time was right, finally possessing the entire Canaan, causing this divinely bestowed land to gradually become diseased, growing a filthy tumor, no longer what it once was...
And now, these people, to prevent their power from being threatened...
They've come to kill him!
Suddenly.
A surge of rage.
exploded in his heart like a raging fire!
Isaac's fists clenched, trembling slightly.
His pupils seemed to hold a golden Nemean lion.
He stood at the boundary of light and shadow, moonlight illuminating half his face, the other half hidden in shadow. He slowly exhaled:
"You…"
"How dare you!"
Upon seeing Isaac's sudden appearance,
these people were initially stunned.
Then the burly man reacted first, roaring:
"He knows about this…"
"We can't let him get away!"
"Kill him!"
The men wielding knives reacted immediately, rushing forward with the burly man, machetes in hand.
Isaac was still enraged.
Several men with knives charged forward.
Although armed, they were no match for Isaac.
Even unarmed, Isaac easily and swiftly knocked them unconscious with a few punches.
However, after the first few fell,
the burly man wielding the machete roared and slashed down.
The blow was powerful and heavy, but Isaac didn't take it head-on.
Instead, he took a step back.
The burly man's machete slammed into the door.
It cleaved the entire door in two.
The strength was not to be underestimated…
Seeing this, Isaac's expression hardened. He retreated a few steps, reaching the spacious living room.
The burly man, seeing Isaac retreat, sneered:
"You dare call yourself the son of a hero?"
"Even your father was probably just a figurehead."
"Times have changed. That Nemean lion, if placed now…"
"It would probably only be a Gold-rank beast…"
"But back then, everyone was too weak, thinking that kind of beast was formidable…"
Isaac remained silent.
His golden eyes were fixed on the burly man before him.
He was unarmed…
His fists alone wouldn't be enough to defeat that man.
The burly man pressed forward relentlessly, each strike powerful and aimed at Isaac's vitals.
However, Isaac was agile, dodging and weaving. The man's blade only managed to strike pieces of furniture, wantonly destroying the furnishings of the house...
But passively dodging was not a solution.
Seeing an opening in the man's defenses, Isaac threw a punch at his face.
But the man smiled knowingly.
Isaac was startled, realizing that his hasty counterattack had given the man an opening.
He tried to dodge, but it was too late...
The man seized the opportunity presented by Isaac's attack.
He slashed at Isaac's abdomen.
Isaac staggered back several steps.
Clutching his bleeding abdomen, blood dripped onto the ground.
He gritted his teeth.
His gaze was fixed on the burly man...
"I stabbed your internal organs..."
"You won't live much longer. Come and face your death obediently, and you'll suffer less..."
The burly man continued to speak rudely.
Isaac, enduring the pain, kept glancing around...
He needed a weapon, a sword, even a wooden stick would do, otherwise he couldn't utilize his strengths...
Just then, a figure suddenly appeared at the entrance to the living room and courtyard...
When Isaac recognized the figure, he was startled and exclaimed in panic:
"Mother!"
"No, get out of here! It's too dangerous!"
But when the figure entered the living room and was illuminated by the fireplace...
He saw that Sarah was holding two things—
A bronze sword and a golden-brown cloak...
Sarah tossed the bronze sword and cloak to Isaac and said loudly:
"I've been through far more dangerous situations!"
"Catch this, son!"
"This is the sword and cloak your father used..."
Isaac was startled.
Taking advantage of the burly man's momentary daze...
He punched the man in the nose, knocking him back.
Isaac, however, swiftly caught the sword and cloak Sarah tossed to him.
He tossed the golden-brown cloak over himself, while his other hand gripped the bronze sword.
The moonlight shone through the window, illuminating Isaac's golden cloak.
When the burly man lowered his hand from his nose...
he looked at Isaac again.
He was somewhat taken aback by the boy's attire.
Before he could react, Isaac tossed his cloak and thrust his sword at him,
swift and deadly, as if the wound in his abdomen had no effect on him...
The burly man, though frightened, still managed to parry, but his momentum had weakened somewhat...
Isaac's swordsmanship was exquisite, almost flawless.
From initially being on the defensive, he gradually seized the initiative.
A slash and a strike aimed straight for the burly man's vitals...
The burly man could only parry with his blade, while Isaac's sword danced in the moonlight. One attacked relentlessly, the other retreated, until finally the burly man was cornered, pressed against the wall...
However, the burly man seemed to be driven to desperation, unleashing a burst of strength from somewhere.
He found an opening in Isaac's masterful attacks.
He frantically, desperately, slashed at Isaac's heart...
But Isaac stepped back.
He flicked his cloak.
The golden cloak blocked the man's blade before it touched his chest.
Clang—
A crisp sound of metal clashing against metal rang out.
The burly man looked in horror at his broken blade...
"This...how is this possible?"
The soft cloak collided with the hard blade.
The blade had shattered?
The burly man seemed to remember something, glancing at Isaac's slashed abdomen, only to find that apart from a few drops of blood, there was no visible wound...
As Isaac's sword pressed against the burly man's neck,
he uttered his last words:
"Why?"
Isaac's wrist flicked, splattering blood across the wall.
The headless corpse slowly fell to the ground...
He slowly sheathed his sword.
And in the moonlight and blood, he seemed to be responding to the burly man's dying bewilderment...
He uttered those words... words passed down through countless mouths in the years to come, woven into epics and legends by countless poets—
"For Isaac is the burnt offering forgiven by God."
"Son of Canaan in fire,"
"Isaac the Messiah of Gold."
...