Chapter 33: Chapter 33: Bone Fist and Skullbreaker In Action (part 1)

And here the man is, sitting openly in a village inn, ordering food like he belongs.

The target takes a seat near the center of the hall, resting one arm on the table, his eyes lazily sweeping the room. For just a brief moment, his gaze passes over Aiden.

Their eyes meet.

Aiden doesn’t flinch. He lowers his cup slowly, expression calm, unremarkable. Just another traveler passing through.

The man looks away first, already bored.

Aiden exhales softly through his nose.

’Yeah,’ he thinks. ’This one really believes no one here can touch him.’

That’s fine.

Confidence like that is exactly an easy target.

Aiden tails the man in silence.

He keeps his distance, matching the stranger’s pace without making it obvious. The dirt road leading out of the village stretches into open fields and low hills, the houses slowly shrinking behind them. The air grows quieter with every step, no merchants calling out, no villagers passing by, only the wind brushing against tall grass.

Perfect.

They walk like that for several minutes.

Far enough now.

The man suddenly stops.

His boots scrape against the gravel as he turns around, a crooked smile spreading across his scarred face.

“So,” the man says lazily, one hand resting near his blade. “When are you going to attack me? I’m getting bored.”

Aiden halts as well.

Aiden halts as well.

“Oh,” Aiden replies calmly. “So you knew.”

The man chuckles. “Of course. You’ve been following me since the inn. And you don’t move like a farmer or a merchant.” His eyes sweep over Aiden from head to toe. “You’re too well-equipped.”

Aiden doesn’t bother denying it.

Behind the man, hidden among the trees and tall grass, two figures shift silently.

Bonefist.

Skullbreaker.

They’ve already been summoned, their presence masked by distance and cover. Their faces are concealed behind worn masks, their bodies wrapped in dark clothing. To any ordinary person, they look like mysterious practitioners, nothing more.

The moment he gives it.

They strike.

Bonefist explodes forward first, feet pounding against the ground as he closes the distance in a heartbeat. His fist comes in low, then snaps upward toward the man’s ribs.

At the same time, Skullbreaker charges from the opposite side, swinging his spiked club in a brutal arc aimed at the man’s shoulder.

The ambush is clean. Precise.

But the man reacts instantly.

Steel flashes.

He twists his body, drawing his blade halfway from its sheath just in time to deflect Bonefist’s punch. The impact sends a sharp metallic clang through the air. Before Skullbreaker’s club can land, he pivots on his heel and kicks the shaft aside, narrowly avoiding the spikes.

The ground cracks beneath his feet as he slides back several steps.

His eyes widen slightly.

“So there’s three of you,” he mutters, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Not bad.”

Bonefist presses forward without hesitation, launching a rapid series of punches. Each strike carries the force of a trained beginner martial artist, solid, direct, and relentless.

Skullbreaker follows up from behind, swinging his spiked club in wide, crushing arcs meant to limit the man’s movement.

The man blocks, dodges, and counters, his blade moving in sharp, efficient lines. Sparks fly as steel meets bone and hardened flesh. He’s clearly stronger than either of them individually. His movements are smoother, his reactions faster.

Aiden watches from a distance, eyes narrowed.

’He’s stronger than beginners,’ Aiden thinks.

The man parries another punch and steps inside Bonefist’s guard, slamming his elbow into Bonefist’s chest. The undead staggers back a step, but shows no sign of pain.

That makes the man pause.

“…You don’t feel that?”

Bonefist doesn’t answer.

He simply steps forward again.

Skullbreaker comes in from the side, his club whistling through the air.

The man barely manages to raise his blade in time, the spike scraping along the edge with a shrill screech. His arm trembles from the impact.

Now his grin fades.

He studies the two masked figures more carefully.

“No fear in your eyes,” he mutters. “What the hell are you two?”

The man fights on, but his attention keeps drifting past Bonefist and Skullbreaker.

His eyes flick toward Aiden.

The third one.

The one who hasn’t moved since the battle began.

Aiden stands a short distance away, hands relaxed at his sides, simply watching.

That unsettles him more than the two attackers.

Most fighters shout, threaten, or rush in to finish the job. But this one just observes, calm and silent, like he’s waiting for something.

It makes the man’s skin crawl.

He snarls and swings his blade in a wide arc, forcing Skullbreaker back, then pivots and drives the tip straight into Bonefist’s side.

The blade sinks in.

He feels it pierce flesh.

He feels the resistance give way.

Blood should have sprayed.

Pain should have followed.

Instead.

Bonefist doesn’t even flinch.

The undead steps forward, grabs the man’s wrist, and tightens its grip.

The man’s eyes go wide.

“What…?”

He yanks his arm back, tearing the blade free. A dark stain spreads across Bonefist’s clothes, but the masked figure doesn’t slow down. There’s no scream. No stagger. Not even a change in posture.

It’s like he stabbed a corpse.

Panic creeps into the man’s breathing.

He retreats two steps, chest rising and falling faster now.

“That should’ve dropped you…”

Skullbreaker doesn’t give him time to think.

The spiked club slams into his shoulder, sending him stumbling sideways. He barely keeps his footing, boots carving deep lines into the dirt.

He whirls around and slashes again, carving a long cut across Skullbreaker’s arm.

Same result.

No reaction.

No pain.

They just keep coming.

Relentless.

Silent.

Their movements are clumsy compared to a seasoned practitioners, but they don’t hesitate. They don’t fear injury. They don’t slow when wounded.

It drives him half-mad.

His gaze snaps back to Aiden.

“You!” he shouts, voice cracking. “What are they?!”

Aiden doesn’t answer.

He only watches, eyes steady, like a hunter studying trapped prey.

The man’s heart starts pounding in his ears.

Every instinct he has is screaming that something is wrong.

Very wrong.

He’s fought plenty of people before. He knows what pain looks like. He knows how fear shows on the eyes.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep