I Am Not The Duke's Evil Son
Chapter 59: The Merciless Arvan

Chapter 59: The Merciless Arvan

Arvan’s attack was erratic and unpredictable. No one could react. All they could do was stare at the ice blades moving far too fast, as they sliced through the air toward them. And in an instant, screams erupted.

Three knights and a servant fell to the ground, blood gushing from gaping holes in their bodies. The same fate met the bandits, seven were killed outright, and two were injured. Several trees around them shattered, adding chaos to their already broken formation.

The knight commander froze in place. A long gash stained with blood ran down the side of his helmet one of the blades had passed right beside his cheek. His body trembled. Slowly, he swallowed a mouthful of saliva and turned to look at his master, whose expression remained indifferent, as if he hadn’t just killed his own men.

He murmured, "Yes, my lord." Then he turned toward Thorne, drew his sword, and shouted to the other soldiers, "Kill them all!"

At the same moment, Thorne yelled, "Defend yourselves!"

Their loud shouts marked the beginning of battle. Swiftly, the sniper loosed his arrows, which flew in a curved trajectory and struck three people simultaneously. On the bandits’ side, over twenty archers launched arrows in response, but unlike the sniper, their shots were weak and inaccurate.

Because of that, the knights easily defended themselves except for one unlucky man.

The official mages released their spells. Fireballs and wind blades lit up the air for a moment before they struck several targets. One man was burned alive; another was sliced clean in half. Some managed to escape with minor scrapes, but they had no time to rest, forced instead to fight for their lives amid relentless attacks.

Thorne didn’t just stand idle while his followers were slaughtered. He charged forward with heavy steps, like a rampaging beast, aiming to neutralize the greatest threats, the mages and the sniper. But the knight commander stepped into his path, and their swords clashed with such force that the air itself seemed to tremble.

Slash!

Slash!

The two exchanged several powerful blows in mere seconds their duel so intense it drew attention despite the surrounding chaos.

Meanwhile, Thalia was faster than her brother. Exploiting the brief moment of distraction, she reached one of the knights and effortlessly sliced off his head. Without stopping, she sprinted toward the nearest mage—but suddenly, she felt a sharp sense of danger and leapt back. A fast arrow shot past her face and struck the ground. If she’d hesitated even a second, it would’ve taken her head.

But there was no time to think arrows rained down on her nonstop. The sniper had realized how dangerous she was and wanted her dead, fast.

She leapt to the right, dodging another arrow, then bent backward gracefully to avoid a shot flying above her. The sniper increased his pace, firing three arrows at once. Thalia couldn’t evade them all, so she dropped to the ground on her back, barely dodging. The arrows passed just inches from her body.

Without pausing to rise, she began to roll across the ground, dodging arrows as she went. During the roll, she grabbed a stone and flung it at the sniper. It was unexpected, but the sniper’s sharp reflexes let him dodge it easily. Still, that brief pause gave her just enough time to stand.

She rushed at another knight and stabbed him to death. The sniper, annoyed, fired every arrow he had at her. He didn’t notice that one of the E-rank bandits had climbed into the trees and was aiming right at him. The bandit loosed a high-speed arrow that shot toward the sniper’s head but at the last second, a wind barrier appeared out of nowhere protecting the Sniper from the arrow.

The sniper shuddered, then turned and shot an arrow at the bandit, who had no time to dodge. The arrow struck, and the bandit fell from the tree dead. The sniper nodded in thanks to the mage who had saved him, then turned his attention back to Thalia.

A bloody chaos—that was the only fitting description of the sudden and brutal battle. Though the knights and mages outmatched the bandits in raw power, they lost many men in a short time. The first to fall were the weak servants—only two E-rank servants remained. Most of the E-rank knights had been killed, leaving only four. The Tank had taken several arrows, but thanks to his tough body, he was still able to fight. The mage, healer, and sniper had more enemies to deal with, given the weak protection around them.

The bandits had lost over twenty men; only thirty-four remained. Suddenly, and for no clear reason, the fighting eased. Everyone paused to catch their breath, though they continued to eye each other warily, preparing to clash again. Some of the bandits, overwhelmed with fear, broke into a run and tried to flee.

Near the carriage door, Arvan watched the fleeing bandits, and rage filled his chest. " You weaklings How dare you run after blocking my path!" He swiftly pulled out a second magic scroll.

Upon opening it, ten glowing magical arrows emerged and floated around him. Coldly, he pointed at the deserters and said, "Kill them." As if they understood his command, the arrows shot out at terrifying speed.

Before the fleeing bandits even realized what was happening, the arrows pierced through their bodies and killed them. Some had already run far, and they noticed their comrades falling behind them. They quickly veered in different directions, hoping to confuse the arrows—but it was useless. The arrows curved mid-air and hunted them down.

One man tried hiding behind a large tree. It didn’t help. The arrow pierced the trunk and his body.

Everyone trembled in fear—even the knights and mages were disturbed by Arvan’s savagery.

But Arvan only grinned wickedly and pulled out more scrolls. He opened one and tossed it toward another group of bandits. The moment it touched the ground, it exploded with devastating force. Five people died instantly, including one of his own knights. Arvan didn’t care. He didn’t flinch. As if it were all a game to him.

He didn’t blink. He didn’t panic. Even as three bandits fired arrows at him, he remained still. The bandits who noticed this felt a spark of hope, while the mages’ faces twisted in alarm. The Tank sprinted toward him, but he wouldn’t make it in time—so he threw his heavy shield.

Two of the arrows struck the shield, but the third was only nudged slightly off course.

Slash!

Scream!

The third arrow struck Arvan’s thigh and stuck. The pain was excruciating. Arvan screamed without restraint, grabbed the arrow, and stared at his blood with murderous eyes. Clenching his teeth in humiliation, he growled, "Damn you... filthy sons of whores... I’ll kill you all!"

The knight commander instantly backed away and stopped fighting Thorne. He turned to look at Arvan’s wounded thigh his expression shrank in horror. "What have you fools done..." he muttered, dread filling his voice. He alone knew what was coming next.

He turned slowly to the stunned Thorne and whispered, "Run."

"What do you mean?" Thorne replied, confused. But the commander gave no answer he turned and fled at full speed.

Only then did Thorne realize they might have made a terrible mistake. He shouted to his followers, "Run!"

" Filthy gutter rats " Arvan pulled out another scroll from his ring, unlike the others, this one glowed with fiery red light. A swirling mist within the scroll moved erratically in every direction.

The nearby mages trembled, staring at the scroll in horror. They could feel the overwhelming magic radiating from it.

"A B-rank Dragon’s Breath scroll..." the healer whispered, barely believing what he saw. The name alone was enough to make hearts sink. Everyone froze for a single second—then scattered in all directions, even the mages retreating behind the carriage for cover.

"Die." Arvan opened the scroll and threw it high. It stopped midair, floating in place. The sky around it turned blazing red. From within emerged a flaming dragon’s head with pitch-black eyes. It looked down at the people below with arrogant disdain, then opened its massive maw and unleashed a torrent of flame—a wide column of dense fire that turned everything in its path to ash.

The first to die were those who had shot Arvan. The Tank who failed to protect him perished as well. Trees turned to charcoal. Flames spread across the forest.

"Shit," Thorne cursed, frantically searching for his sister so they could escape, but his body froze when he saw Thalia charging at Arvan, who now stood unprotected. In a flash, she closed the distance and swung her sword.

Arvan’s eyes widened in shock. He saw the glint of steel and death rushing toward him. For a moment, time froze for him.

But suddenly—a swift arrow struck Thalia in the shoulder, making her stumble and miss. The sword passed in front of Arvan’s face; his eyes widened in terror, and he fell back onto his rear, stunned, his legs giving out beneath him. A growing wet patch spread across his pants.

He had pissed himself from fear.

The shock broke his connection to the scroll, and the dragon’s head vanished. Still, most of the bandits were dead, along with nearly all the knights and servants. Only a few survived: the two official mages, the healer, the sniper who had shot Thalia, and the knight commander, who stood at a distance with a pale face.

Even wounded, Thalia didn’t stop. She regained her balance and attacked again—but this time, a mage cast a defensive spell to protect Arvan. Thalia reacted instantly, she shifted her aim and hurled her sword with terrifying force. The mage didn’t even realize he was the target until the blade pierced his head, killing him.

The barrier vanished.

In that moment, something unbelievable happened. Claws—sharp and bestial—emerged from Thalia’s hands. She lunged at the seated Arvan. The sniper fired his final arrow, forcing her to leap back with animal agility.

"A half-beast..." the sniper muttered in shock. His sharp eyes saw the changes, her fangs had lengthened, her glowing blue eyes widened, and her physique had grown larger. Though her thick clothes concealed most of it, he could tell her body had transformed.

He rushed to stand in front of Arvan and drew his sword. He wasn’t skilled in melee combat, but he risked his life to hold the line. The last mage stepped forward as well. Meanwhile, the healer hurried over to treat Arvan, and first cast an enhancement spell on the two defenders.

As soon as the healer began tending to him, Arvan regained a bit of courage. Humiliation burned inside him, he’d pissed himself.

"Get away from me, you wretch!" he snapped, pushing the healer aside. Then he pulled out a stack of scrolls. He was rich and his father had supplied him with dozens of magical scrolls in advance. The Dragon’s Breath scroll had been the strongest.

He opened three scrolls at once and roared, "Die, you filthy beast!"

Ice blades, fireballs, and magical arrows burst out from all directions toward Thalia, who found herself with nowhere to run.

"I’m not letting her die!" Thorne shouted, eyes wide, and charged forward. But the knight commander, having finally regained his composure, blocked his path.