A Gorgeous White

Chapter 42: Definitely Not A Saviour Type

Moulin kept a cool expression. His heart loudly berating Snow, that brat, for running off and stupidly pushing him away from his hiding place. However, what had infuriated him, even more, was the disgusting look on the man's face standing before him.

The leader of the bandits, Moulin had presumed. Even the air around the man was irksome.

As those foul words escaped from his thick mouth entered Moulin's ears, it stabbed endlessly into his patience like needles. However, the third young master kept a blank face as if nothing could faze him.

The maeruthan man found his silence scornful. His eyes blazed with anger and fire engulfed his fists. "How kind for the heavens to bring me a more delectable morsel. Perhaps, this young lad better thinks twice before I mangle your sweet body better than wolves." He smiled, licking his teeth.

"Although, who wouldn't want to mount such a sweet thing like you."

The other bandits who had pulled themselves off the ground chuckled with the man as if they pictured the scene in their minds.

Internally, the bandit leader was wavering in his heart the moment he saw the wave of frost distinguish his firewall in less than a minute. The boy with silver-white hair was a maeruthan, an Aphrodite one. What a catch he would be! Seeing the vulnerable-looking lad with such a pretty face he couldn't bring himself to run away empty-handed. Perhaps, only luck had aided the boy to coincidentally put off his flames. Yes, that should be the case.

The men's thoughts had run wild, completely ignoring Moulin's oh so impassive countenance.

The youth closed his silver eyes at the same second when one of the bandits made a move to grab him. But the man's hands never reached him.

His face broke from confusion until it contorted into pain. It seems not only was he in an unusual situation but so was the rest of them.

Their eyes looked down at their legs and their breath ceased. From the earth beneath their feet was devoured by perilously thick ice. The cold bit into the skin of the soles of their feet up to their ankles, not even thick leather could deter it. The more they moved and struggle the more their flesh melded with their clothes with the deathly cold.

The ground had completely frozen under a thick sheet of eyes, spreading surreptitiously outwards from Moulin's feet. How could they have not noticed it?! Their heartbeat drummed, caught by the ears of the reaper.

A sharp cry started the hysterical struggle to be released. Except for the bandit leader, the rest was as good as dead as they began to scrape out the ice in a maddening way.

Watching his men resorting to slicing off the ice on their skin which was an intensely bloody sight, his gaze grew unfocused. How was this happening? How could this-

His thoughts paused.

He whipped his head towards Moulin who he knew was the man behind his men's agonizing torment. Fear and dread in a sweet blend, he used his ability to melt the ice on his feet without taking his eyes off Moulin.

The moment he had freed himself, he sprinted away as fast as he could, mercilessly leaving behind his subordinates. The rest of the bandits, who were currently as powerless as a babe, widened their eyes in disbelief, rage growing within their chests.

The youth slowly opened his eyes and witnessed the ghastly scene which could not move his heart. Unmoving, his silvery gaze watched the fleeing man's back. Moulin didn't need to act, the man could not go far. Instead, he watched the struggling group of men. Terrified by the scent of death and blood from their hopeless efforts.

For a moment, Moulin felt pity. There was hesitation within his deep silver eyes but it was immediately replaced by indifference.

Panting heavily, As if chased by the large bloody jaws of death. The bandit leader's breath quickened as he ran. Unfortunately, he could not get too far.

His eyes widened and his steps abruptly stopped when a large shadow flashed right past him. A menacing growl could be heard within the silent woods around him. The man's fingers trembled in fright, eyes constricting, terrified.

A large shadow covered his sorry figure, completely overwhelming him. The man was too terrified to remember that he could make use of his ability to defend himself. The deathly silver pair of eyes belonging to the beast in front of him cut straight into his soul. Shredding away every bit of courage inside him, replacing it with horrifying fear.

Around the same time, Moulin walked towards the bounded lady, ice spreading from his feet heading towards the scattered binding stones. A loud crack sounded, the finger-sized stones broke as the ice penetrated through its core.

The moment Moulin had stood in front of the dark-skinned lady with blue eyes, the binds keeping her bound dissipated.

Seeing that she wasn't seriously harmed, he turned to the bandits, who's legs were half frozen. Their dejection and yielding spirits were evident within Moulin's sight. With a sigh, the youth raised his hand and thawed the ice around them, giving them the chance to escape once their legs were free.

"What are you doing?" Ghana looked at him, greatly opposed to his reckless decision. She watched the fleeing men, scrambling away like flightless birds.

"Ease the hatred in your heart. Nevertheless, they will be living the rest of their lives crippled. Moreover, they aren't the ones you have set your hostility against, are they?" Moulin glanced at her.

THUD!

A body dropped before them from above. The bandit leader's body bounced heavily at the impact of being dropped. His body, bloody with deep claw mark-like wounds gaping open and bleeding down his arms like streams.

Ghana gnashed her teeth, her hands itching to rip him open from his wounds. Moulin's eyebrows furrowed. Had Snow gone too far this time? Honestly, the bloody man before him looked like he was mauled.

Out of the blue, A Large creature landed before Moulin and Ghana, dust and leaves floated in the air before settling down. Ghana lowered her arm covering her face, adjusting her eyes focus. A second after she did, her eyes widened. Such a beautiful Mystic Beast was in front of her!

"Snow..." Moulin frowned at his bratty friend while glancing at the bandit leader between them, "Don't you think you've gone too far?"

Snow's eyes blinked at him, innocently. As if he had done nothing wrong. This reaction made Moulin's head throb. Ugh, no matter how much he reprimanded this brat the latter still acts as if he was faultless!

The white beast walked over the shuddering man who began to crawl back but failed hopelessly as he cried, holding his broken leg which Moulin had just noticed. The man could not run away again.

Snow neared his master, pushed the tip of his snout unto Moulin's soft rosy cheek, and licked it warmly.

Moulin rolled his eyes and pushed his snout away, glaring at the small patches of blood staining the fox's white fur. His eye twitched, in his eyes, it looked wickedly revolting. He didn't like it one bit.

"Dirty..." He mumbled. "You need an entire day of scrubbing you brat. Don't sleep on my bed if you aren't spotless enough to deserve it"

Snow frowned, whimpering. He lowered his head, glancing at the blood on his paws. Mn, His master is right. The red staining him looked terrible. He lowered his head even more.

"You..."

Moulin shifted his attention to the woman beside him. Her expression was too confusing for him to discern.

"..."

Ghana could not believe a boy could tame such a beast. In truth, she had never seen a Mystic beast like the fox in front of her. Her father once told her that these special beasts who were unlike any other could only be tamed by an even more special being. They were unique, possessing the ability to release pheromones to dominate with other beasts and to communicate with maeruthans and other races. With one look at those glowing eyes of silver, Ghana knew this was one of the known mystic beasts that even she was curious about.

Her impression of the youth looked even brighter and aggrandized. Clearly, he was younger than her and more vulnerable looking. He was even an Aphrodite Maeruthan who were ought to be very soft, gentle, and docile. Indeed, she could no longer trust her eyes to assess people.

"Don't you still have to finish something?" Moulin abruptly pulled her back from her thoughts. He somehow felt shy under her deep appraising gaze.

"Ah..." Ghana turned to look down on the man who was quietly shaking in fear as his fingers dug on the ground.

"No! Please! Spare me! Spare me!" He begged her as Ghana approached him. "No!! I-I can give you gold! Anything you want! I can give it to you!"

Moulin frowned, he looked away clutching on the strap of his satchel. Ghana noticed his reaction and stopped before the crawling man on the ground. Her pale blue eyes razed over the man's beaten body. Bloody with hideous claw marks on his arm and his legs that could no longer move. The right leg was twisted in backward, lying limp under the man's hold. She didn't feel an ounce of pity of course. They brought their demise unto themselves. She could kill him mercilessly if she wanted to.

However...

Her blue eyes glanced at the youth at the corner of her eyes. How his beauteous face fell into a frown as he pressed his lips together. He was so impassive and unmoving as he brought pain to his enemies but was he uncomfortable at the sight of death? Is that why he released the other thieves from their pain?

Honestly, she had never seen such ruthlessness and compassion blended into one person. Even the children growing up in knighthood of the noble houses of her province wouldn't even bat an eye as they butchered piglets and lambs.

She sighed.

Ghana turned around and walked towards the youth.

What the girl didn't know was that Moulin's thoughts were completely different than what she had assumed it was.

Moulin was wracking his brain out as he thought of an undeniable excuse to tell his brother. He was sure the guards have already reported to Emlen and he was also sure that Emlen would certainly scold the life out of him. What if he flashes his usual watery-eyed, pouty tempting I-was-wrong look at him, could it possibly work? But if it doesn't then...

His silver eyes glanced at Snow who had already transformed into his puffball form and was whimpering at the taste of blood in his mouth. Moulin's eyes gleamed. It seems he has to push the blame this time. Although it was pitiful, it really wasn't his fault he got involved in other people's business. He wasn't really a savior type of person.

Tilting his head, Snow innocently looked at his master, oblivious of the schemes in his master's trusty eyes.

"Thank you..." A sincere voice spoke out, startling Moulin out from his mind.

Ghana was gratefully bowing her head at him. The moment she lifted her head she met Moulin's striking silver eyes. Her eyes widened in wonder.

"I'm glad you are alright" He nodded at her.

He glanced at the thief crawling on the ground, trying to escape. Confusion washed his expression as he turned his gaze back to the woman in front of him, "You... didn't kill him?"

She nodded, "I will spare his life. As you have said, he and the others will live crippled and lame. That is enough punishment."

That isn't right. Wasn't she ruthless and unforgiving? The look on her eyes before was blazing with raw anger. Does she actually want to spare this man?

Moulin furrowed his eyebrows. If that is her choice then he would not meddle. Honestly, what right does he have to tell someone, a stranger, what to do? He mentally berates himself.

Nodding as a response, Moulin smiled at her. "If that is your choice..."

Ghana's lips turned up as her eyes narrowed at the youth's smile, "Thank you for saving my life. I am enternally grateful to you"

"I would not turn a blind eye on a person in need of help. It is not a big matter-" his words were cut off when a loud shout echoed loudly around them.

A single name echoed in the woods.

"Moulin!"

Shit...

Of course, Moulin knew the owner of that loud, worrisome voice.

He glanced at the blinking gem on his bracelet, sullenly. Emlen was really going to give him an earful...