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Taming the Dark Lord - Chapter 81

Published at 20th of May 2022 08:15:42 AM


Chapter 81: Stampede

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Chapter 81 – Stampede

‘Wow. When did this man learn how to flirt?’ Amelia thought. A slight blush was slowly forming on her cheeks feeling Alfonso’s eyes locked on her.

Just when she’s about to shy away from his gaze, she realized that Alfonso wasn’t looking at her after all. She studied him and saw that he had his attention fixed on her blonde locks, which are twirled loosely around his fingers.

Flirt. My ass.

Turns out, he was only speaking his mind, not flirting with her.

From his point of view, he genuinely felt that her blonde hair was way more beautiful than any other shade, and nothing else comes close.

Amelia’s heart was racing from the way Alfonso was intently staring at her tresses, looking at it as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. His gaze alone was enough to make her breath hitch.

She gulped and casually combed her hair with her fingers, her locks slipping from in between his. “I’ll let you touch them when we get back.”

Like a glass shattering, Alfonso’s expression changed in an instant and creases formed on his brow. ‘Touch what? Her hair? What’s so good about her hair?’ He thought defensively.

The vendor packed the jewelry in their separate pouches before placing them into a box, carefully presenting the package towards the two.

Amelia tapped her fingers together and casted a floating spell. The vendor’s eyes were filled with admiration. He said, “Young lady, the jewelry you have now were all handcrafted meticulously, down to the smallest of details. I assure you that you won’t be disappointed and if ever you find anything that seems off, feel free to bring them back here for adjustment—“

Before he could finish his words, a loud sound suddenly erupted in their surroundings. The loud was so sharp that it could be heard even in the bustling streets. All the civilians and vendors alike turned their heads where the noise had come from and saw a tent collapse. The wooden sticks that kept it upright broke down along with the rags that covered it. A small figure moved from the pile of debris and rolled weakly, whimpering as he did.

“Child!” A middle-aged woman selling exotic fruits on the street quickly dashed towards the mess, and hurriedly pulled the rag off the child. She blinked the tears from her eyes and called, “Bell? What’s wrong with you?” She asked anxiously.

She turned the child to his back, revealing his face and the onlookers gasped in unison.

On the child’s cheeks, black, dented spots filled a large area where a pack of boils were fitted tightly together. Red and yellow blood oozed out of the holes, and his veins protrude out of his skin.

It was stomach-churning, and it was really disgusting. Amelia’s mouth gaped upon seeing the horrifying sight, and goosebumps crawled all over her body.

The young child was screaming hysterically, straining his throat raw from his relentless screech. The lively street was stunned into silence as the black spots on the boy’s cheeks gradually became bigger than its original size. They all took a step back, “It’s the plague!” Someone screamed in horror.

The crowd was awakened from their senses, like they were snapped out of their reveries as they turned their heels and ran as fast as they could, wanting to distance themselves away from the plague.

The civilians jolted past them like a herd, and both Alfonso and Amelia were trapped in the commotion before they could even dash out.

With Amelia’s small figure, she was almost pushed out of the way by the panicked crowd when a gripping force circled her waist and lifted her from the ground. The elf’s muscular arms were wound tightly around her waist, her legs dangling from below her.

Amelia was startled from the suddenness of it all. She quickly placed her arms around Alfonso and leaned on his ear and said, “Go find a place where no one would see me and put me down. This will be a huge mess if this chaos continues! Quick!”

The vendor hugged his frail sister tightly and followed the stream of crowd and ran. With his legs weak and arms sore from carrying his sibling, he stopped for a second to catch his breath when a sharp pain rattled him out of his stupor and his arms loosened the hold he had on his sister.

A person’s handy knife had somehow lost its sheath from the commotion and the blade grazed the vendor’s thin arm. Blood gushed out instantly and the cut was so deep you could see the faint outline of his bone.

The vendor didn’t bother looking where the knife had come from, nor did he have the time to check his wound. His eyes widened seeing his sister falling to the ground with a loud thud and the crowd paid no heed as they stepped on her form, pairs of feet one after the other.

One… then two… then three.

Her face was contorted in unmasked pain. Her thin arms were stretched out towards her brother who was helplessly looking at her. He was pushing against the horde to no avail as they harshly bumped into him, and before he could even get near her, she was brutally stepped on again by the masses and a faint sound of cracking bone reached his ears.

“N-no…” The vendor stammered weakly. He was still pushing on, wanting to reach his sister when he saw a man speedily running forwards, and he would surely trample on her head and the vendor screamed, “No!—“

His warning died in his throat when a light whip came from nowhere. It slithered the little girl’s waist in a tight grip and pulled her out of the stampede.

The vendor’s face was wet with tears. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and hoped that his sister would be all right. His eyes followed where the light whip ended and saw a white dress that shrouded a slender waist, panning upwards until his eyes met a pair of blue eyes that was filled with nothing but compassion.

The blonde girl was up in the air, her dress fluttering softly from the breeze. His little sister was bunched up on her arms and stained the blonde’s stark, white dress. Amelia gently lifted the girl’s jaw and brushed the dirt off her deep scars.

God really does love everyone, even the peasants like us. The vendor thought.




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