A short sword flew through the air, landing a few feet away, followed by a person rolling across the ground.
"Ah, fuck you! You almost killed me!" the noble captain shouted, his face burning with fury as he lowered his fist. If he had been a second later, his neck would have been cut, and blood would have sprayed everywhere.
Some of the onlookers immediately rushed toward the fallen middle-aged woman. However, the silver-armored guards were faster, kicking, punching, and slicing at those who tried to help with their swords.
Screams echoed as those who tried to assist had no choice but to retreat. They could only stare helplessly at Miss Millie.
"You'll regret that, bitch!" The captain glared at the woman coldly, his killing intent flaring. He walked toward her, releasing his cultivation pressure.
At the 4th-Step Foundation Building stage, his pressure was enough to terrify ordinary people. They retreated, even from afar, their faces filled with fear as they anticipated what would come next.
The captain picked up the short sword and stood over the coughing woman.
Blood splattered onto the ground, turning brown dirt a deep red, and some of her inner organs could be seen mingling with the liquid.
Miss Millie wiped her mouth and looked up at the man in front of her. Those eyes… they always had the same look when directed at people like us. Ants, insects they could crush at any moment. Miss Millie resigned herself to her fate. Death.
"Die!" The captain raised the short sword high, preparing to stab her in the head. A wicked smile spread across his face. He was angry but also excited—eager to feel the pleasure of taking another life once again.
However, just as the sword was about to pierce her, he suddenly felt a threat from his side. Before he could react, his body was sent hurtling through the air as winds swirled violently around the spot where he once stood!
The world spun, dizziness overtaking him. In this blurry haze, he caught a glimpse of two small figures running toward the middle-aged woman. With a thud, the captain crashed into the ground, raising a cloud of dust!
A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by a shout.
"Miss Millie!" Don cried out, his small voice drawing everyone's attention. He hurried toward the street leader, worry etched on his face.
Miss Millie opened her eyes in confusion. She had expected to die, never to see the world again. But it hadn't happened. Instead, Don, one of the street kids, stood in front of her.
"Are you okay?" Don asked, though he didn't need an answer as he took in Millie's battered face.
"W-what… what's happening?" Miss Millie stammered.
"I went and found him!" Don said, stepping aside to reveal the person behind him. "Mr. Cultivator!"
Miss Millie looked past the boy and saw a seven- or eight-year-old child clapping his hands. The silver-armored guards lay on the ground around him. Their condition was unclear, but the blood pooling beneath them made it obvious.
"I told you, I'm just your friendly neighborhood beggar," Apollo said, walking toward the middle-aged woman.
Dealing with these 'scary' looking guards was a piece of cake. They were at the 1st-Step and 2nd-Step Foundation Building Stage, but with his current cultivation and the Simple Sword Technique, they were nothing but moving dummies. His fingers alone were enough to pierce their silver armor and kill them. He had left his new wooden sword back at the beggar spot, deeming it unnecessary.
It wouldn't have made a difference if he had brought it.
Staring at the kid beside Don, Miss Millie recognized him. He was the same boy who had wanted to visit Bubba but instead found him already covered with a cloth. According to Don, this same kid was also a cultivator. Glancing at the silver-armored guards on the ground, it seemed to be true.
Miss Millie tried to stand, but her injuries caused her to stumble. Don quickly supported her. "W-what… happened… to the… captain?"
"Mr. Cul— Beggar blew him away!" Don said, a smile on his face. Their savior kept insisting he wasn't a cultivator but a beggar, so Don went along with it.
"A simple trick. Fortunately, we arrived just in time," Apollo said, glancing at the middle-aged woman before turning to the dissipating dust cloud.
"W-we… should… get out… of here," Miss Millie urged, staring at the cultivator. "Th-they will… kill… us."
"I'm not surprised," Apollo nodded. If these guards had come in peace, they wouldn't have hurt anyone. But they had already killed some of the Slumstreet people, showing their true intentions.
Whether they left or not, it was clear the guards intended to kill them.
"You all should leave. I'll stay here and buy you some time," Apollo said, glancing at the approaching figures.
Miss Millie's eyes widened at their savior. "You… this is more than enough. We couldn't afford to waste your time, sir."
"Haha, Big Chub is my friend, and I'm helping as best as I can," Apollo smiled at them. Though he looked like a child, the way people gazed at him was filled with admiration and respect. No one believed his current appearance was his real form. There was no way a child could be a cultivator—they assumed he was older, using a technique to change his appearance. Miss Millie was sure of it.
She fell silent, but hearing the cries of the children and seeing the wounded people who had tried to save her, she gritted her teeth and nodded at the cultivator who introduced himself as a beggar.
She had hesitated before, which had caused the deaths of others. She couldn't afford to make the same mistake again.
"I will stay with you!" Don shouted, his face filled with determination as he looked up at the beggar.
"Go with them. You'll only be a burden," Apollo said, patting the boy on the shoulder.
"B-but—!" Don tried to insist, but Miss Millie placed her hand on his shoulder. When he looked at her, she shook her head.
"Don't worry. I'll make sure you come back here, and no one will bully you anymore," Apollo said, glancing at the people around him, his voice full of assurance.
"Thank… you…" Miss Millie bowed her head, and the others followed suit.
Everyone bowed their heads, faces filled with gratitude. They cried, worried about the future, but for now, staying alive was what mattered most.