CHAPTER 60: HELPING THE INJURED MAN

Amon and Vixra exchanged a glance. Neither spoke, but both began moving, their steps slow and cautious, following the direction of the scream.

The city around them was still. Too still.

The lamps flickered faintly, casting shadows that stretched unnaturally long across the cobblestone path.

Every house they passed stood quiet, windows dark, doors closed. Not a single sound came from inside.

Their footsteps echoed, each one sounding louder than it should in the suffocating silence.

"Junior... stay sharp," Vixra whispered, her grip tightening on her wand.

Amon gave a small nod, his jaw set. His eyes never stopped scanning every corner, every alley, every shadow.

As they turned down a narrow street, the silence pressed heavier. The air felt colder. The lantern light dimmer.

The scream had come from somewhere ahead. From this narrow street.

Amon gulped down his saliva. The scene looked like something from a horror movie. It was a good thing he was not alone here.

They walked deeper into the small street, the walls of the houses rising close on both sides. Their breaths quickened. Amon’s heartbeat grew faster.

And then another sound.

"Ahh!"

A faint rustling. A low, strangled groan.

Both of them froze.

The source was close. Very close.

Amon raised his hand slowly, signaling Vixra to stop. His eyes sharpened as he stared down the shadowed stretch of the street ahead, where the faint sound of something or someone was groaning in pain.

They walked closer.

Amon summoned his sword from his ring and held it tightly, while Vixra was ready to conjure a spell with her wand.

The mana lamps illuminated some parts of the street, leaving others swallowed by darkness.

From one of those darker areas, a shadowy figure was crawling and groaning. His bloodied hands came into view.

The figure dragged himself across the street, pulling forward with his hands while lying flat on his stomach. His body slowly came under the lamp’s light.

He was a man in his thirties, wounded and bloodied. His hands left streaks of blood where his palms scraped against the street. His clothes were torn. He was on the verge of death, groaning in pain, his breathing heavy.

As the man’s eyes fell on Amon and Vixra, he used all his strength to mutter for help.

"H-help!"

The moment Amon and Vixra saw him, they rushed toward the man.

"Hold on!" Vixra knelt beside him, her hand hovering uncertainly before she finally touched his shoulder. The man flinched but didn’t resist.

Amon crouched on the other side, sliding an arm under the man’s chest to lift him.

"He’s bleeding badly," he muttered, noticing the crimson soaking through the man’s clothes at his side.

The stranger groaned, his voice weak and cracked. "Please... help me..."

Carefully, they pulled him up between them, each supporting an arm. His weight sagged heavily, but they steadied him, guiding his faltering steps away from the cold stone street.

They helped him sit against the wall of one of the houses beside the street. His back rested against the cold stone, still groaning, his eyes heavy.

Vixra held her hand close to the man and chanted a healing spell. It was an advanced-level spell.

Meanwhile, Amon took out an advanced healing potion he had bought before coming here. He opened the lid of the glass tube containing the potion.

He brought it close to the injured man’s lips.

"Drink it, man. It’s a healing potion," Amon said, trying to keep him from losing consciousness.

The man struggled, but slowly managed to drink the healing potion.

Between Vixra’s spell and the potion, his wounds began to heal. His face slowly relaxed. His breathing became steadier.

Amon noticed a huge diagonal cut on the man’s chest.

It was healing, but too slowly. Since it was deep, it might not fully heal.

"What happened to you? Who attacked you?" Amon asked, his voice low but serious and firm.

The man swallowed, his eyes wide and unfocused, as though the memory was haunting him.

"I... I was with my friends," he rasped. "At the bar near the market. We were drinking, talking, nothing unusual."

He coughed, spitting red blood onto the stones before continuing.

"Then suddenly... everyone froze. The whole place went silent. They didn’t even fall asleep, they just... stopped. Cups in mid-air, voices cut off." His grip tightened weakly on Amon’s sleeve.

"Only me and my two friends could move."

Vixra frowned.

"And the others?"

"We tried," the man said, shaking his head, his voice trembling.

"We shouted, shook them, slapped their faces, but nothing worked. It was like their souls had left their bodies. Their eyes were dazed with no life in them. Then... they all stood up. And remained still. We searched every corner, but no one else... no one else responded."

His eyes darted toward the darkened street behind them, fear creeping back into his tone.

"Then the three of us left the bar... we were going toward the inn where we had been staying for the last two days... but suddenly two hooded figures came from behind, silently."

His expression turned grim. He breathed heavily.

"We didn’t sense them coming. We were in a hurry to get back. Before we understood anything, one of them sliced across my friend’s neck. He died on the spot..." His eyes grew teary as he continued,

"...One of my friends was non-awakened, while the two of us were just awakened ones with not much experience to fight..."

"We tried to fight back, but it was no use... They killed my other friend as well... I had some experience in fighting, so I was able to run away from them barely... and then I met you guys." His tears streamed down his cheeks.

He had just lost two friends in front of his eyes, after all.

Amon’s face turned solemn. He knew it was true,not everyone had the talent to ascend to the next stage, even if they were awakened. Just like how he himself had no talent. His growth was far too slow.

Since a human gains access to mana at the age of fifteen, it is very hard to control and manipulate.

It takes years just to break through to Mana Initiate level. No wonder the academy doesn’t allow just anyone. Amon was just lucky.

"Were they your enemies?... Are they still following you?" Vixra asked this time. Her tone was tense.

After all, they needed to know. She and Amon might have to fight those two suspicious figures.

The man remained silent for a while, as Amon and Vixra waited for his reply.