Return of the Youngest Son with SSS-Rank Talent-Chapter 48: It was the ultimate privilege of a loyal servant

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Chapter 48: It was the ultimate privilege of a loyal servant

Seeing Kael jump into the water without thinking, several figures in the forest were surprised.

However, none of them made a sound or spoke; they weren’t stupid enough to talk out loud.

They looked at each other, and the leader of the group raised his hand, slowly clenched his fist, and signaled to move forward.

With slow and careful movements, they emerged from the forest and stood exposed under the moonlight, which was like a silent observer.

In the distance, you could hear the howling of wolves, owls, and other animals and insects, which sounded much louder, making the night more dangerous and deadly.

After inspecting the surroundings with his limited vision, the leader gestured to one side and then traced a semicircle.

Step by step, they got closer and closer to the water, the sound of the waterfall filling their ears with intensity.

When they reached the riverbank, the leader looked at one of them and motioned for him to check, then signaled to the others to be on alert for any kind of surprise attack.

The member approached with his nerves and senses on high alert. He circulated his mana essence toward his dantian, converting this energy into an aura that took on a coppery green hue that covered his body.

He peered over the edge but saw nothing: no fish, no aquatic plants, only darkness. There was no sign of Kael or any disturbance in the water, only the gentle current and the loud sound of the waterfall.

The man turned around and, making several gestures with his hands, indicated that there was nothing unusual, which was very strange.

Did he go down the stream? That’s most likely. Despite being so young, he’s quite resourceful. Not only did he discover us, but he acted quickly before we could act. What a competent young man.

The leader of the group quickly analyzed Kael’s actions and was surprised by his quick adaptation and judgment. He looked at his men and motioned for them to check downstream.

As he turned to join the search, a noise behind him caught his attention.

Turning, the leader saw him: Kael, wielding the coin sword with an ominous glow in the moonlight. The weapon descended with a hiss and split one of his men in two, from shoulder to hip.

The body did not fall immediately; for a grotesque moment, the two halves remained connected by strands of flesh and tendons before collapsing. The grass, once green and fresh, was soaked in thick red blood, and intestines spread out like snakes, still pulsating.

The smell of copper and guts filled the air.

The shock paralyzed the group, but Kael was not a man to waste advantages. His essence of mana, converted into an aura, propelled him toward his next target.

It was a matter of three steps.

The second man raised his weapon too late. A clean cut severed his right arm, and before the pain reached his brain, the coin sword sliced through his belly. His intestines spilled onto the floor with a silent splash, and his head rolled seconds later, his eyes still open, his mouth twisted in a scream that never came out.

The third managed to block, but his hands were shaking, his breathing a desperate gasp. Fear had slowed him down. Kael shattered his defense, ripped his hand away with a blow, and with one fluid motion slit his throat.

The man collapsed, choking on his blood, which gushed out between his mutilated fingers.

And Kael didn’t stop.

However, just as he was about to finish off the fourth member, the leader, who had recovered from his surprise, blocked Kael forcefully and shouted at his subordinate:

"Run! Go tell our lady!"

The remaining member ran quickly toward the forest.

Kael, seeing this, frowned. He couldn’t let him live, but he couldn’t kill him because of the person standing in front of him.

Besides, the element of surprise was already gone.

He took three steps back, the coin sword dripping fresh blood. The metallic smell mixed with the humidity and fragrance of the flowers reached his nose.

What a perfect night.

Kael fixed his gaze on the man in front of him and spoke calmly: "Who sent them? My brothers weren’t involved; they don’t have the capacity to have such well-trained members. Was it the first wife? The fourth?"

"Aren’t you worried? Now the lady will know your true strength and skill. Even if I die here, my mission will be complete. So let’s dance a deadly dance! Will you join me in this last dance, young master?"

The leader of the group, Said, did not respond and drew his two daggers, preparing for what was probably the last battle of his life.

He did not fear death. What value did a life like his have, if not to give it up? He had already fulfilled his role. He did not need glory, reward, or redemption.

Face Kael? It made no sense. He wasn’t the protagonist of this story. From the moment he decided to serve her, his life no longer belonged to him. His only will was hers, his only destiny was to obey her orders. Dying for her was not a sacrifice.

It was the ultimate privilege of a loyal servant.

I see, how interesting. Kael did not expect to see such flashes of loyalty and certainty in a person, let alone on this mountain.

He gripped the coin sword a little tighter, which was covered with the crimson aura of the "Crimson Plum Circulation" cultivation technique.

Without further ado, Kael lunged at Said with a cold gleam in his eyes.

And so their battle began.

...

Under the moonlight.

The remaining member who had survived zigzagged quickly between the trees. The branches scratched his body, leaving bloody gashes on his flesh.

But he wasn’t the only one running.

From the shadows, a pack of hungry wolves emerged like shadows, silent and merciless.

The first lunged without warning, its jaws snapping shut with a wet crack on the man’s calf. The bone shattered instantly, breaking like dry wood.

The man screamed in pain, just before another wolf jumped on his shoulder and tore off a chunk of flesh, exposing his throbbing shoulder blade.

He fell to the ground.

He didn’t have a chance to get up.

The wolves lunged all at once. One bite into his lower jaw and pulled so hard that it tore off half his face. His tongue hung down, still twitching, while the rest of his teeth flew through the air amid splatters of thick blood.

Another sank its jaws into his belly, tearing through the skin; wet intestines and viscera slid to the ground with a slimy sound, and were caught between fangs and voracious paws.

One of the wolves tore off his hand and chewed it as if it were a piece of leather. Another clung to his neck and ripped out his windpipe with a sharp tug, letting a jet of warm blood spatter the nearby logs like a crimson brushstroke.

The member of Said’s group no longer had the throat to scream or the legs to run. Only reflex spasms remained, as the wolves tore his body apart, ripped out organs, chewed on cartilage, and tore nerves as if they were strands of moss.

When it was all over, there was nothing left but a mass of unrecognizable flesh, broken bones scattered among the grass.

One of the wolves raised its head, its muzzle covered in warm entrails, and howled at the moon.

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