Chapter 18: Lucky Son Of A B**ch

The wolf-like dog Renga raced through the forest like a gust of wind, paying no heed to his master's continuous shouts and commands trailing behind him.

It was often said that children learn from their parents, and Renga was no different.

From his master Jandar, who is also like his adopted father, he had inherited not only the man's courageous spirit and resolute demeanor but also the same stubbornness and pride.

Like father, like son. Or in this case, like master like pet.

As Jandar contemplated that his unruly pet would never cease its constant running, he was taken aback when Renga's pace gradually slowed down.

The wolf-like dog eventually came to a halt near a towering tree, prompting Jandar to catch up with a mixture of surprise and frustration evident in his expression.

"You rascal! How dare you run off like that? That's it, no dinner for you tonight," Jandar scolded, his voice filled with both irritation and concern as Renga began to whimper in response.

"Woooow... Woooow... Wooow!!"

"Stop your whining. Your acting won't work on me. Now, show me what you chased after, you stubborn brat," he demanded, his eyes reflecting a mix of discipline and curiosity.

Renga immediately ceased whining and swiftly led Jandar behind the huge tree. As they approached the other side, an alarming sight unfolded before them.

A lean young boy, his body bruised and his clothes torn and stained with blood, lay motionless on the forest floor. The bruises and blood stains painted a grim picture, making the boy appear more like a lifeless form than a living being.

Jandar's expression shifted from anger to concern as he rushed to check on the boy's condition, his heart racing with worry and unease.

He swiftly closed the distance to the fallen boy and bent down, pressing his fingers against the boy's neck, checking for a pulse to ensure he was still breathing.

Satisfied with the steady rhythm beneath his touch, Jandar scanned the surrounding area before returning his focus to the unconscious form before him.

He recognized the boy as the son of the maid he had been searching for.

Studying the boy's peaceful expression, Jandar couldn't help but mutter under his breath,

"Boy, you're one lucky son of a bitch. You owe my dog a feast. Make sure it's a big one when you wake up."

With practiced ease, Jandar lifted the boy's limp body over his shoulder. Despite the weight, Lander's form felt almost weightless in Jandar's strong grasp. His face showed no strain or concern.

To him, carrying the boy was as effortless as if wearing an extra layer of clothing.

From his pocket, he retrieved a crumpled dark yellow flower with orange edges, holding it close to Renga's nose.

"Now, Renga. Guide us home," Jandar instructed.

The five-petaled yellow flower, known as the fire flower, possessed the remarkable ability to clear animals' minds and enhance their concentration.

Despite Renga's natural intelligence and Jandar's familiarity with the way back to town, Jandar wanted to ensure a smooth journey, especially since they were still within the territory of the golden-eyed beast.

As Renga breathed in the scent of the flower, a wave of clarity washed over his mind, infusing him with newfound vigor. With a burst of energy, he sprinted back toward the direction of Red Hawk Town.

Jandar trailed closely behind, matching Renga's speed despite carrying Lander on his shoulders.

As they traversed through the forest, the boy on Jandar's shoulder began to stir slightly.

His eyelids fluttered open slowly, revealing eyes that seemed to have never been closed in unconsciousness.

—--------

Hendriks found himself standing within the ruins of what could barely be called a house, located in the far reaches of the town's southern expanse.

Referring to this structure as a house would be an insult to the very concept of shelter. Its run-down state evoked a sense of distaste from anyone who noticed it.

The walls, once sturdy, now crumbled under the weight of neglect, while the roof resembled a sieve with countless holes, allowing slivers of light to pierce through.

In one corner lay a cart-like bed, its condition, and last wash, a mystery lost to time.

It was unthinkable that any human being could endure living in such a mess, yet Derek Altard called this place home.

This forsaken building belonged to the 'man of the hour,' the primary target of Hendriks' relentless pursuit.

Hendriks was acutely aware that combing through every house in pursuit of the man was a flawed strategy.

The risk of alerting the thug and prompting his escape from the town was too high.

Nevertheless, Hendriks purposefully made more noise, hoping Derek would catch wind of the manhunt.

He wanted the fugitive to panic and flee, anticipating the perfect moment to apprehend him.

Hendriks had meticulously orchestrated his plan, deploying trusted soldiers to every exit point in the town.

He anticipated Derek's potential reactions should be either seeking refuge within a poor man's household or attempting a daring escape from the town.

So his objective was clear, to force Derek Altard, the subject of the town lord's pursuit, into a corner. He aimed to push Derek to flee the town, unwittingly leading himself straight into his trap.

The perimeter around the town was fortified with vigilant soldiers, making any potential escape routes nearly impossible for the fugitive to navigate.

Hendriks was confident that it was only a matter of time before the notorious thug would be apprehended. At least, that's what he had believed.

As the hours ticked by without any sign of Derek's capture, Hendriks grew increasingly perplexed.

'Could he have slipped away last night undetected?' Hendriks mused. 'No, that's not plausible. He couldn't have known about the town lord's pursuit yet. So where did I go wrong in my plan?'

Hendrik was stunned by the failure of his meticulously crafted plan. He couldn't figure out how, but the bastard had slipped through his fingers. The realization that a common thug had outsmarted him left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I underestimated him, that lucky son a bitch" Hendrik muttered to himself, his frustration palpable.

Determined to rectify his mistake, he hastened to Derek's hideout, where a few soldiers were stationed.

His intention was to conduct a thorough search of the premises. However, as he took just one look at the condition of the house, he realized there was little left to search for.

He turned to one of the soldiers stationed beside him, the one tasked with covertly monitoring the house.

"So, no one has approached the house?" Hendrik inquired, his tone laced with urgency.

"That's correct, sir Hendrik. We've been here since before sunrise. No one has entered or exited," the soldier reported diligently.

"Have you thoroughly searched the house?" Hendrik pressed further.

"Yes, sir. Honestly, there was nothing to find. What you see is all there is. I'm actually at a loss as to how this man managed to survive without even a firepit for cooking," the soldier remarked.

"Why bother cooking when he can simply steal what he needs for free?" Hendrik mused aloud. "Hm... Did you find any parchment or documents of any kind?" Hendrik queried, his mind racing with possibilities.

"No, sir. As per your instructions, I searched thoroughly. There was nothing of that sort here," the soldier confirmed.

"Very well. Search the premises once more. Also, scour the surroundings for any clues. I want one of you to conceal yourselves inside the house, while the other maintains watch from outside. If anyone other than our men in uniform shows up, you know what to do," Hendrik instructed firmly.

"Understood, sir," the soldier replied with a nod, ready to carry out his orders.

"And I need a comprehensive list of every soldier who had any form of interaction with that man Derek," Hendrik ordered with a determined tone.

"It doesn't matter if it was just a single conversation in passing or if they received constant bribes from him. I want to know every soldier who had spoken to him or had any kind of relationship with him. Can you handle that?"

The soldier didn't hesitate in his response.

"Yes, sir. I can certainly do that. However, it may take some time to gather all the information."

Hendrik had specifically chosen this particular soldier for the crucial task of monitoring Derek's house and gathering information about other soldiers for a reason.

Like Hendrik himself, he was also an outsider.

At forty years old, with a decade of military experience, he hailed from the eastern reaches of the Sikor kingdom, seeking a new life that led him to settle in the relatively tranquil town of Red Hawk.

His straightforward nature and integrity set him apart from the aspiring warriors in uniform, earning Hendrik's trust and making him a personal confidant.

"Good work, Erik. I appreciate your diligence," Hendrik praised.

"It's my duty, sir Hendriks. Is there anything else you need?" Erik responded dutifully.

"Not at the moment. Just ensure you gather the information I asked for. The sooner, the better," Hendrik instructed.

"Understood, sir," Erik acknowledged, ready to carry out his assigned task with diligence.

Hendrik stepped out of the house, his mind already racing with plans. Mounting his horse, he urged it forward, galloping towards the lord's manor to brief him on the unfolding events.

As he approached the main part of the town, a distant scream shattered the air, piercing through the wind.

"Aaahhhhhhhhhh...!!!"

The sound originated from a distant area, where only swaying tall grasses dominated the landscape, obscuring any visibility beyond.

The urgency in the woman's scream urged Hendrik into action. Without hesitation, he redirected his horse toward the source of the cry, riding it into a rapid sprint across the uneven terrain.