CHAPTER 51: A CHILD’S TRUST

[: 3rd POV :]

As Daniel stepped closer, the details came into focus, and what he saw ignited a storm inside him more violent than anything he had felt in years.

The little girl, no, the hatchling was barely clinging to consciousness.

Her delicate body trembled with every shallow breath she took.

Her skin, pale and marred, was covered in bruises with purple blotches staining her arms, legs, and even her neck.

Her once-pristine clothes, clearly crafted with care and meant for exploration, hung off her like rags.

Torn fabric, frayed seams, and deep gashes told a story of violence, of someone who had been thrown, dragged, and bound like an animal.

Dried blood crusted around the edges of her wounds.

Fresh scratches ran across her cheeks and shoulders.

But what made Daniel’s heart clench, what truly pushed him past the edge of fury, were the red, raw marks around her wrists and ankles.

It clearly indicated that she was chained.

Her wings—small, fragile—were limp and battered.

Her tail barely twitched, caked with dirt and scabs.

And her face... her once youthful, radiant face... was hollow.

Eyes sunken with dark rings beneath them, lips cracked and dry, and cheeks far too thin for a child her age.

She hadn’t eaten in days.

His hands trembled as he knelt beside her, his eyes never leaving her broken form.

His voice, when he spoke, was low... too low—soaked in something ancient and murderous.

"...They did this to you."

Each word was carved from his soul, trembling with restraint.

His fists clenched so tightly that his nails pierced skin, blood trailing down his knuckles, unnoticed.

His heart pounded like war drums.

His mind spiraled, flooded with memories—of chains.

It reminded him of the pain, screams and of himself, Caelira, Rika, Manork, Kiel.

He thought he had overcome it but Daniel realized that some things could ever be forgotten or forgiven.

The world blurred with red, a seething, molten rage erupting from his very core.

"They dared... to chain a child."

His hand moved with quiet gentleness, fingers softly caressing her blood-matted hair.

Erina finds his contrast so sharp it was terrifying.

The tenderness in his touch, and the storm burning in his eyes.

The slave merchants had halted, momentarily stunned by the sudden intrusion.

Their boots crunched against the forest floor as they slowly approached, eyeing Daniel with confusion—and growing unease.

The one in front, a tall man with a whip coiled at his side, squinted through the trees.

"Oi! Who the hell are you...? And how did you just appear like that?"

Daniel said nothing.

His eyes remained fixed on the girl.

His fingers gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her bruised ear as she whimpered faintly in exhaustion.

Silence.

But it wasn’t peace.

It was pressure.

The kind of silence that screamed louder than words.

The kind that made the back of your neck itch and your instincts whisper run.

Another one, stockier and bolder, stepped forward. "You deaf, bastard? I asked you a question!"

Still no response.

The slave merchants glanced at each other. The tension crept in, slow but undeniable.

"You with the Guild?" the first one asked again, this time more cautious. "You don’t look like no soldier... but you sure as hell ain’t normal."

Daniel’s hand stilled on the girl’s head.

His gaze lowered to the marks on her wrists—the deep, raw indentations left by metal shackles.

Then to the filth on her cloak.

To the bruises that colored her skin like bruised fruit.

To the tears still wet on her cheeks.

His jaw clenched.

"...You trying to protect her?" another sneered, spitting on the ground.

"She’s a damn hatchling. Worth millions. What’s she to you, huh?"

"Oi, what’s with this guy? Just standing there like a statue!" one of the merchants barked between wheezing chuckles.

"You broken or something, freak?"

The laughter grated on Daniel’s ears like rusted steel. Loud. Mocking. Insane.

Another laughed, clutching his stomach. "Maybe he pissed himself. Look at him—too scared to even move! That’s adorable."

Their laughter echoed across the forest like a twisted chorus, each note trying to drown out the growing tension in the air.

But they didn’t realize—they couldn’t realize—that Daniel’s silence wasn’t weakness.

It was a warning.

A storm crouched in human form.

And they had mocked it.

And then, a voice—cocky, cruel, laced with arrogance.

"Tch. Move aside, stranger. Last warning. That girl’s ours."

Daniel finally moved.

His hand gently slid from the girl’s head and rested her down against the roots of a tree, carefully, as if placing down something sacred.

One of the merchants scoffed, clearly mistaking the silence for submission.

"You don’t know who you’re messing with, freak. I’ll count to three. Step away before we decide to add you to the cargo."

Daniel slowly rose to his feet.

And for a heartbeat... he still said nothing.

But inside—he was unraveling.

He wasn’t silent because of fear.

He was silent because he was barely holding himself back.

Because if he spoke now—if he let out even a single word—the dam would break.

And he didn’t want the child to see what he would become.

"Three!" one of them barked.

Daniel ignored them as his gaze slowly shifted down to the girl, her name.

[: Erina :]

She was still curled beneath the tree, wings folded close to her body like a wounded bird.

Her small frame trembled—not from him, but from the lingering terror of the past few days.

Her hands clutched the torn fabric of her cloak tightly against her chest, as if holding onto the last thread of safety in a world that had abandoned her.

She looked so fragile.

So small.

And yet, when Daniel crouched beside her again, she didn’t flinch.

She didn’t move away.

He reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, his touch light, careful—like he was afraid she might break.

"Stay here, child," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, yet warmer than any fire.

"And don’t go anywhere, alright?"

Erina blinked up at him, those dark draconic eyes wide and filled with confusion... but not fear.

Not anymore.

Not with him there.

Even as her limbs trembled with exhaustion, even as her stomach screamed in hunger and her mana threatened to flicker out entirely—something about him made her feel as if the world couldn’t touch her.

Daniel gave her a soft smile.

Not the smile of a warrior.

Not the smirk of a killer.

But the tender, tired smile of someone who had known pain... and couldn’t bear to let someone else feel it again.

Two!" They kept counting.

"Can you do me a favor, little one?" he asked, brushing a strand of tangled hair away from her face.

"Can you close your eyes for me?"

His voice was like a lullaby to her stormed heart.

It was strange.

She barely knew him.

He hadn’t told her his name.

She hadn’t even seen his face clearly through the haze of her tears.

But his presence... it wrapped around her like her mother’s wings once had.

She felt safe, warm and protected.

She nodded slowly and she closed her eyes.

Because for the first time since she arrived in this cursed forest, she believed the words he said.

Everything was going to be alright.

"Silence" Daniel declared a decree like a king who had casted his judgement upon sinners.

"On—"

The merchant’s voice stopped.

The third word never came.

Because in that final step, Daniel raised his head.

And they saw his eyes.

Not human.

Not even draconic.

But something far beyond.

Eyes glowing with cold, celestial fury—an abyss of vengeance that promised only annihilation.

The slave merchants stood frozen—literally.

Their mouths opened, trying to shout threats, curses, or pleas, but not a single sound escaped.

Their limbs refused to obey, stiff as stone, as though invisible chains had locked their very existence in place.

Panic flared in their eyes.

One by one, realization began to settle in.

This wasn’t a paralysis spell.

This wasn’t fear-induced immobility.

Their powers—everything they prided themselves on—were gone.

Muted and sealed.

’Wh-what the hell...?’ one tried to whisper, but not even a breath left his lips.

They could feel their mana struggling, writhing helplessly within them, suppressed by a force that was vast... ancient... and merciless.

They were B-Rank slavers, each one a hardened criminal with enough strength to overwhelm squads of trained fighters.

Together, they had trafficked beasts, monsters, and even dragons.

But never—never—had they encountered someone who could erase their abilities with a mere glance.

That alone meant one thing.

He wasn’t just stronger.

He was superior.

At least S-Rank... or worse, one of them thought, eyes wide with horror.

Daniel’s violet eyes shimmered in the twilight, not with warmth—but with judgment.

He took one quiet step forward.

The leaves beneath his boot didn’t even crunch—nature itself seemed to hold its breath.

"I could have tortured you..." he began, his voice calm, almost hollow.

"Ripped each of you apart slowly. Crushed every bone. Made you beg."

His eyes drifted to Erina, curled behind him like a broken songbird, eyes closed in exhausted trust.

"...But for the sake of the child," he said, voice heavy with unspoken rage, "I’ll end this swiftly."

Then, he raised a single hand.

A snap echoed like a thunderclap through the clearing.

In the next instant, three spears of pure, molten violet energy burst forth from the void—shaped by the Element of Destruction, radiant and absolute and also Singularity Destruction.

They struck without mercy.

One after another, the spears pierced clean through the chests of the slavers, burning holes through flesh, bone, and soul.

There was no scream.

No struggle.

No final words.

They were erased.

Ash scattered in the wind where bodies once stood, and silence once again reclaimed the forest—this time, serene.

The Slave Merchants were gone just like that with their existence erased.