Devourer's Legacy: I Regressed With The Primordial Crest-Chapter 23: Ambush, Again? (1)

The final match is scheduled the next day.

It was an idea from the finance administration of Draemir to generate boost revenue from the festival.

Since there were many things to experience - Renard decided to explore around the festival with Aria.

"Not going to training again?"

Aria said surprised that her brother was coming with her.

"No, I thought I would join you to explore the festival"

"Wow! What's gotten into you? Are you really coming with me?"

"Well, we should enjoy life every now and then."

"You're really acting strange"

Sara, who was beside Aria giggled at their conversation.

Since having maids would attract too much attention, they dismissed them and went ahead only with their escorts, Sara and Zain.

Zain was already sulking, he thought he could rest but here he is again!

As Renard walked with Aria, he found himself deep in thought.

'This is so different from before.'

The festival was called off in his past life because of Aria's death. Lord Agusthus who was enraged by the death of his granddaughter was searching the whole forest towards the Tiara castle for the culprit.

The whole territory was in a depressed mood.

But now - it was brimming with life and laughter.

How nice!

'It feels good'

With that in mind, Renard walked around the festival with Aria.

She enjoyed the crowd, but Renard's thoughts were too tangled to fully appreciate the festival.

They went around to different food stalls, trying new dishes, looking around ornaments and more.

After a while of walking around, Aria stretched and complained.

"It's fun, but I am tired, let's find somewhere we can sit."

Just as she was looking around with a tired face, one man approached them.

Sara and Zain became alert, but the man didn't seem to possess any danger.

"Young Lady, would you like to watch the play of the terrible?"

The man, with a friendly smile, said pointing towards the narrow street.

"We are putting on a special show a bit outside the main area."

"Oh! Really what's it about?"

"It's about a terrible monster which was slayed by the combined effort of eight houses - An old tale, it isn't everyday you get to see it."

"Really? Let's go! Let's go see it!"

With eyes sparkling with excitement, Aria eagerly replied.

Renard beside her squinted his eyes. Tale of a terrible monster... it seemed quite interesting. Honestly, he wanted to see it too. So when Aria looked at him with puppy eyes, he could only agree.

"Okay, let's go."

They followed the man through the bustling crowd until they reached a quieter area. Several rows of wooden benches had been arranged in a semicircle, facing a makeshift stage constructed from wooden planks and cloth. The area wasn't particularly secluded, but the atmosphere felt different from the lively festival grounds.

As they took their seats, Renard noticed other spectators trickling in, filling the benches around them. On stage, actors dressed in elaborate costumes were performing, their voices carrying through the open space as they narrated the tale of a fearsome beast that had once terrorized the land.

"The monster's scales were harder than steel!" One actor proclaimed, brandishing a prop sword. "But the eight houses united, their determination unbreakable!"

Something felt off. Renard's instincts, honed through countless life-or-death situations, were screaming at him. The way the other spectators moved, how they positioned themselves... it was too deliberate, too coordinated.

The actor on stage suddenly stopped mid-sentence. The dramatic pause stretched uncomfortably long, until it wasn't a pause at all. One by one, the faces in the crowd turned toward them, their expressions changing from feigned interest to cold calculation.

"Alright, I brought them here as promised! Let's wrap this up quickly!"

The man who had led them here suddenly shouted, his friendly demeanor evaporating like morning dew. The actors on stage dropped their props, revealing real weapons hidden beneath their costumes. The spectators rose as one, and Renard realized with grim certainty that they had walked right into a trap.

Sara sprang into action, unsheathing her sword and positioning herself in front of Aria and Renard while Zain moved to guard their rear. The makeshift theater had transformed into a killing ground, and they were surrounded on all sides.

Aria's grip on Renard's arm tightened, her earlier excitement replaced by rising panic as she realized their dire situation.

"You really did bring them here? Haha! What fools!"

A middle-aged man emerged from the shadows. There was nothing remarkable about him – the kind of face you'd forget the moment you looked away. Perfect for someone who needed to disappear into crowds, to become invisible when necessary. His ordinary appearance made him all the more dangerous.

"What's the meaning of this?" Zain's voice cracked, his hand tightening on his sword hilt as he counted the enemies surrounding them. Too many. Far too many.

The guide who'd led them here shrugged with casual indifference. "My job was just to bring you here. Whether they sell you as slaves or kill you – that's not my concern anymore."

"What?" Zain's face drained of color, but Sara's eyes narrowed, her stance shifting subtly as she positioned herself between the threats and her charges.

Renard stepped forward, his voice carrying an edge that made several of the thugs shift uneasily. "You deceived us? You think you'll get away with this once Lord Agusthus learns of it?"

The guide laughed, but there was a bitter edge to it. "I'll take the money and vanish. I'm done with this wretched life of endless labor."

Renard's mysterious smile should have been a warning, but the guide mistook it for resignation. "My conscience stings a little, but there's no other way," he said, though his expression showed no trace of the remorse he claimed to feel.

He sauntered toward the middle-aged man, confidence oozing from every step. "So, where's my money?"

The middle-aged man produced a pouch of gold coins, letting them jingle temptingly. "Relax. It's all here." His thin smile never reached his eyes as he held out the pouch.

The guide reached for it – and in that moment, everything changed.

The middle-aged man's hand shot out like a viper, grabbing the guide's wrist and yanking him forward. Steel flashed in the dim light.

"Gah—!"

The dagger, drawn so smoothly it seemed to materialize from nowhere, plunged into the guide's stomach. Once. Twice. Again and again.

Thud! Thunk! Thud!

Sara moved the instant the first drop of blood hit the ground. Her sword sang as it left its sheath, catching a thug's blade inches from her face. The clash of steel rang out like a signal.

"Young master, young miss – stay behind me!" she shouted, her blade dancing in deadly arcs, keeping three attackers at bay through sheer skill.

Zain exploded into action from behind, his earlier fear transformed into focused rage. "You won't touch them!" His sword caught another attacker in the shoulder, sending the man stumbling back with a howl of pain.

The middle-aged man stepped back from the guide's corpse, casually wiping his blade clean before lighting a pipe. "Forgive me for this unsightly display, young miss and young master." Smoke curled around him like a serpent as he surveyed the scene. "Phew... smoking really does taste best at times like this. Now, shall we finish up?"

His men closed in, forcing Sara and Zain to tighten their defensive circle around Renard and Aria.

Aria clutched Renard's arm, trembling violently. The brutal murder replayed in her mind, each stab a promise of what might await them. "Brother, let's run!"

She tried to pull him away, but Renard remained unmoved. "It's alright. Let go – you're surprisingly strong, you know?"

"Let's get out of here!" Her voice cracked with desperation.

"Don't worry about it. Your mighty brother is here. They aren't much to worry about." Renard's casual tone seemed absurd given their situation, but something in his voice made Sara and Zain exchange glances.

"Why are you so strong?"

Aria stared at her brother in shock, unable to comprehend what he was thinking.

The middle-aged man chuckled at the scene, remembering the rumors – how young lord Renard had survived an assassination attempt, fighting off multiple killers alone. Perhaps the boy had gone mad from the experience?

But then Renard turned to face him, and the air itself seemed to grow heavy.

"You know," Renard's voice carried an ancient weight, "this is the second time I'm saying this." His gaze swept across the assembled killers, and even Sara and Zain felt a chill run down their spines at the change in his demeanor.

"You guys," he said softly, terribly, "are all dead."

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