Chapter 57: Leave her alone!
The red tattoo on his neck faded back to its usual dormant state.
"Can you hear me?" he asked gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. His touch was careful, mindful of her injuries.
The girl’s eyes fluttered open.
They were green and bright despite her pain.
She looked at him with confusion and fear, but there was also something else there—a spark of hope that hadn’t been completely extinguished.
She nodded weakly, wincing at even that small movement.
"Good," Jorghan said.
He carefully helped her sit up, his hands steady as he checked her injuries.
Her left arm was badly bruised, possibly with cracked ribs from the way she held herself, and she had cuts and contusions across her face and body. Nothing seemed broken beyond repair, but she was badly hurt.
"You’re going to be okay. I won’t let them hurt you anymore."
He didn’t know why he was helping the girl. He just didn’t want to see her in pain anymore.
The girl managed a small smile through her pain.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse.
"They said... they said no one would come. That no one cared."
"They were wrong," Jorghan replied simply.
Before he could say more, he heard the sound of boots hitting pavement—lots of them.
More soldiers were coming, at least twenty of them this time, rushing down the street with fresh weapons and reinforcements. They had learned from their comrades’ mistake and were approaching with more caution, spreading out to surround him from multiple sides.
These ones looked better equipped, too, with heavier armor and more advanced weapons.
Jorghan stood up slowly, positioning himself between the girl and the incoming threat.
He didn’t look worried.
If anything, he looked annoyed at the interruption.
[Multiple Threats Detected]
[Bloodborne Rage: 25%]
The new commander, a stern-faced woman with a captain’s insignia, raised her hand. "You’re surrounded! Stand down and release the civilian!"
"She’s not a prisoner," Jorghan said calmly.
"She’s under my protection."
"Then you leave us no choice." The captain’s hand dropped.
The soldiers opened fire.
Bullets filled the air, a deadly rain of metal aimed at Jorghan from every angle.
The sound was deafening, echoing off the buildings. Shell casings clattered to the ground like metallic rain.
But the bullets never reached him.
They froze in mid-air, hanging there like suspended raindrops caught in impossible stillness, before falling harmlessly to the ground with soft metallic clinks.
The soldiers stared in disbelief, continuing to fire even as their ammunition proved completely useless.
Jorghan raised both hands this time, his movements deliberate.
[WIND ATTRIBUTE]In bound]
The soldiers suddenly found themselves lifted off their feet, floating in the air like puppets on invisible strings. They shouted and struggled, weapons falling from their hands as they grasped at nothing. Some tried to shoot, but their guns wouldn’t respond.
The very air around them had become solid, imprisoning them in place.
With a flick of his wrist, Jorghan sent them flying backwards.
They crashed into walls with bone-jarring force, rolled across the pavement, and tumbled over abandoned vehicles.
The sounds of impact echoed through the street.
None of them would be getting up anytime soon.
Just as Jorghan turned back to check on the girl, the entire street was suddenly bathed in blinding white light.
He looked up, shielding his eyes with one hand.
A massive ship hovered above the narrow alleys, its hull gleaming with advanced technology, its engines humming with power that made the air vibrate.
The light beam focused directly on where Jorghan stood, illuminating him like a spotlight on a stage.
The girl behind him whimpered in fear.
Jorghan reached back, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder without taking his eyes off the ship.
Then something dropped from the vessel’s main hatch.
It wasn’t a dramatic fall.
There was no explosion of dust, and no crater formed in the ground from impact.
The figure simply landed, touching down on the street as smoothly as if he had taken a single step.
It was almost graceful, effortless in a way that suggested immense power held under perfect control.
Not even a whisper of displaced air marked his arrival.
Jorghan’s eyes narrowed as he studied the newcomer.
It was a young man, probably around sixteen years old. He had sharp, aristocratic features and dark hair that fell across his forehead in carefully styled waves. His clothes were strange—some kind of tight-fitting combat suit that shimmered with protective energy fields, clearly high-tech and expensive.
But what struck Jorghan most were his eyes. They were cold, calculating, and utterly confident. The eyes of someone who had never truly been challenged.
The young man looked at Jorghan with something like curiosity, the way a scholar might examine an interesting specimen.
"So you’re the one causing all this trouble," he said. His voice was calm, almost bored, with an accent that spoke of expensive education and privilege.
"I’m helping someone who needed help," Jorghan replied evenly.
"If that’s trouble to you, then yes."
"You shouldn’t poke your nose in matters that will get you killed," the young man said, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve.
"You’ve interfered with local affairs. You’ve assaulted peacekeeping forces. Destroyed military property. That makes you a criminal under interplanetary law."
"Those peacekeepers were beating an innocent girl," Jorghan shot back, his voice hardening. "What does that make them?"
The young man shrugged, genuinely unbothered by the moral question. "Not my problem. You can come quietly, or you can resist. Either way, the result will be the same."
"You seem confident," Jorghan observed.
"I have reason to be," the young man replied with a small smile.
Without warning, he moved.
He was fast—incredibly fast.
One moment, he was standing ten feet away; the next, he was right in front of Jorghan, his fist aimed at Jorghan’s face with enough force to shatter concrete.
The air itself screamed at his passage.
Jorghan blocked it, but barely.
The force of the blow sent him sliding backwards several feet, his boots leaving grooves in the pavement. This kid was strong. Much stronger than those soldiers had been. Stronger than most people Jorghan had fought recently.