Berserk: The Prophet

Only the sharp pain on the tip of his tongue could awaken Seranti's consciousness. Seranti, leaning on his scimitar, slumped to the ground, panting heavily. Through the crack in the door, he could see the firelight in the corridor. Clever as he was, he had already figured out the general layout of the castle and several escape routes.

Thrandt vomited up the tea, but the drug was still taking effect. The potent hallucinogen began to work, and in his hazy state, his whole body felt as if it were being gently enveloped by an uncontrollable warm current, as if his soul were floating in an ocean of joy and happiness, slowly rising into heaven. He even seemed to vaguely see his mother. Thrandt leaned against the wall and reached out to touch her. The touch was incredibly real. He saw his mother as a young woman, cupping his face in her hands and gently kissing his forehead. Her gaze was so tender, so unlike anything he had ever seen before...

"Haha...hahaha..."

Seranti laughed foolishly while tears streamed down his face. He saw many elves dancing and singing around him. What a wonderful world!

I had a good dream.

As the hallucinogenic effects wore off, Seranti's consciousness plummeted from the heights of ecstasy until he regained consciousness and realized he was in a cold, desolate world.

Thrandt opened his eyes. The familiar scene filled him with terror. The pungent smell of blood awakened memories of the night before. Stam's blood was almost dried on the ground. Suddenly, hurried footsteps reached Thrandt's ears from outside the corridor.

Seranti quickly gripped his scimitar and stood up. The unpleasantness of the evening had also made Seranti aware of the danger. This man would imprison him sooner or later, and tonight he would settle things once and for all!

The sound of swords being drawn rang out, and the man burst in, seeing Seranti covered in blood.

As for who was lying on the ground, Arkas didn't care; his mind was entirely on Seranti.

"Seranti, are you alright?"

"...Put the sword down, okay?"

Arkas saw the scimitar in Seranty's hand and tried to reason with him. The anger and hatred in the boy's eyes were so undisguised that it deeply agitated him, and the veins on his forehead bulged. He vowed that once he caught Seranty, he would subdue him and give him a good beating.

"Do you know who's lying on the ground? It's Stam, just like you. It's disgusting, Arkas."

Seranti kept his scimitar pointed warily at Arkas, maintaining his distance from him in the room. He hadn't forgotten the methods this man was used to; he would never allow Seranti to disobey him. Arkas would only use his unconvincing words to deceive him, and then beat him up.

If he were to be captured in close combat, Seranti would have no chance of winning, so he secretly pulled out a packet of powder from his lower back in preparation.

“Stam?”

Upon hearing this, the man's pupils contracted sharply. The figure did indeed resemble Stam. He rushed over to investigate, while Seranti charged forward with his scimitar, ready to deliver a fatal blow. In a situation where the strength difference was so great, no one cared whether the methods were despicable or not; there was only the victor and the vanquished.

Arkas knew that killing Stam would not spare him, and Thranduil was absolutely certain of this, because the old man only had this one son who could come out of the public eye and inherit the family business.

"Ping"

Arkas's years of experience fighting abroad allowed his body to react quickly, numbing Serant's hand. However, Arkas's shoulder was still cut by the scimitar, and blood slowly flowed down his arm. The smell of alcohol and his rage made Arkas's face flushed red, and he looked quite terrifying. But the moment he turned around, Serant had already sprinkled the powder on his face.

"Aaaaah, my eyes! I've wasted my life raising such a beast!! I should have locked you up a long time ago, you damned little bastard."

Arkas angrily covered his burning eyes with one hand while defending against Seranti's attack. The man's hearing was also good, but without his sight, his movements were much slower. He also had many wounds, large and small, on his body. The tendons in his right leg were torn open, and his huge body knelt on one knee.

As he gradually adapted to the lack of visibility in battle, Seranti found it increasingly difficult to succeed, to the point that he had to take out another bottle of potion, bite off the stopper with his teeth, and pour the potion onto his scimitar. This was a slow-acting toxin made from a mixture of several good medicines, which would cause muscle stiffness and unconsciousness due to drug poisoning.

After several fierce attacks, Seranti left several deep wounds on the man's body. Although Seranti had avoided them very well, he still suffered large and small wounds under Arkas's frenzied sword attacks.

Finally, the effects of the drug on Arkas kicked in. Perhaps because of the alcohol, the drug took effect quickly as it flowed through his bloodstream. His movements slowed down noticeably due to the stiffness of his muscles, and Seranthi chopped off his strong right arm, sending it flying into the air.

It's finally over... I've successfully done it!

Seranti's heart leaped with joy. The hatred that had been building up for so long was finally released completely. He had done it. Did you see that? Mother... your child has avenged you.

"Guards!! Where are the guards?!" Arkas roared furiously; he was determined to get revenge on these freeloaders!

"So noisy, go to hell!! You damned bastard!!!" Seranti shoved his scimitar into the man's incessantly stinking mouth, and only after seeing the man's miserable state did he breathe a sigh of relief. Finally... he didn't have to live like that anymore.

"squeak"

The sound of armor clanging and clattering came from outside the door. Seranty's nerves, which had just begun to relax, tightened again. His ruthless gaze was fixed on the doorway, where the effects of the drug on the guards who had been drugged by Stam had worn off.

Seranti rushed towards the door, slashing the tracheas of the two guards as they groggily opened their eyes. He couldn't just run out openly like that; his pointed ears and appearance would attract attention!

Seranti ran back to his room, put on the cloak that Stam had brought, and took out several sealed powders and potions with him. He calmly moved the two bodies to the bedside, then picked up a torch from the corridor wall and threw it on the bed, setting the former bedroom on fire to attract the patrol's attention. He then ran away along the route he had planned.

Fortunately, tonight Stam, that idiot, had drugged all the guards on the floor, and they arrived smoothly at the floor where the lord usually stayed and entertained guests. The servants were still clearing away the tableware. Because of the banquet, there were no soldiers patrolling back and forth until the end of the banquet, only those on guard duty. Now that the guests had left, they were preparing to patrol once before going back to rest and take turns on guard duty.

"Fire!! Fire!! People have died!!"

After waiting for a while, a few servants finally noticed something was wrong above the castle. Immediately afterward, the patrolling soldiers mobilized and ran upstairs, and the servants followed suit. The lord's bedroom and hall were now empty.

Seranti was just about to escape as planned when he looked at the lord's bedroom, which he had never been to before, and hesitated. He went in anyway, thinking that he might be able to find some useful information.

Thranduil found a map in the man's bedroom. The things drawn on the table looked familiar. Thranduil's pupils contracted sharply. It was an extremely exquisite metal chain lock, shackles, and handcuffs to be made for him. The estimated time to complete the project was two years. The title read: "Half-elf Auction in Lake-town," and the date was two years in the future.

What a disgusting bastard!! He had indeed wanted to do this for a long time. If Stam hadn't barged in tonight, he might have ended up like his mother if he had hesitated for another two years. He had felt a little guilty for killing his father, but now he didn't even feel that guilt anymore. All he felt was contempt and deep disgust for that scumbag.

Seranti threw the attempt into the fire, and the disgusting 'auction plan' burned to ashes along with the scumbag.

Even after Seranti escaped the castle during the snowy night, which was left unguarded as people were busy fighting the fire, the flames still burned for a long time. The orange flames and billowing smoke added a touch of warmth to the cold weather.