Misunderstood Hero: My Family Are All Villains

"..."

"..."

The two soldiers stared at the drunkard.

It took a while, but they eventually managed to compose themselves.

No, they wouldn’t succumb to their anger, not when the Sultan was here.

"Let’s scare him off."

They stepped towards him, their spears raised.

"Get out of here, old man. This is military property."

Malik mumbled something unintelligible and kept stumbling towards them.

"Damn fool! Fuck it, let’s just kill him!"

The first guard reached out to stab him.

"No, you idiot!"

The second guard rushed forward, pushing the spear away.

"Hm."

The moment they were close enough, Malik smiled.

His right hand shot out, the dagger the rebels had given him appearing from his sleeve.

The blade caught the torchlight, and then, with two quick strikes, the guards fell without a sound.

Malik caught the first guard’s spear before it could clatter against the stones. He lowered it gently to the ground, not needing to do the same with the second as it fell with its owner, dampened by his body.

Then he turned to the gate.

It was massive, thick wooden beams bound with iron, reinforced with steel plates.

With a few hours, he could use a battering ram to break it down.

It would take time that he did not have.

Thankfully, he had another method.

His hand touched the wood.

Ember’s Touch activated.

Golden fire bloomed from his palm, concentrated at a single point on the gate.

The wood blackened, the iron glowed red, and the heat spread in a small circle, eating through the barrier.

Scorpion’s Sting followed.

No longer gold, his fire turned black.

It devoured faster, melting through the remaining wood and iron.

The gate groaned, and its hinges buckled.

Malik could’ve pierced through it, but no.

That wasn’t enough of a message.

He needed more, and thus...

"Haa..."

Lowering himself, he gripped the gate from below.

His muscles flexed, Goliath’s Fall boosting his strength to new heights.

CRRAAAAAAACK!

The gate’s hinges were destroyed at once as he began to lift it.

And then, before anyone could even process what they were seeing, the gate rose.

Malik had fully lifted it, making them witness one of his titles.

It went higher and higher as he began to push it up.

Only to then let it fall.

It was low, but so very fast.

BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNG!

The sound echoed across the outpost, loud as thunder.

At nearly the same time, arrows and spells rained from above.

Almost immediately, the watching soldiers—the ones the rebels could not shoot—screamed:

"We’re under attack!"

"Sound the alarm!"

"The south gate is breached!"

They scrambled from their covered positions, rushing towards the now-open entrance.

Ranged attacks in many different elements kept falling from the hills, felling the first wave of soldiers where they stood.

In their low class, nothing much could be done against such a barrage.

Both their blades and armor were easily punched through.

But the soldiers had served their purpose.

The alarm had been raised.

The outpost was awake.

Malik stepped inside.

A dozen soldiers met him, their shields locked together, forming a wall of steel.

His left hand sat behind his back; his right hand held the dagger, its blade wreathed in black fire.

He crashed upon them.

...it was a massacre unlike any that came before it.

Nearly every time Malik killed a group of people with fire, it was from afar.

But now, he stood face to face with them, his fire directly stabbing into them.

His earlier comparison of Scorpion’s Sting to the void was too accurate.

Malik almost felt disgusted using this power.

The soldiers before him, they...

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

They screamed, cried, and begged.

Yet the fire took them anyway.

A single scratch, and their life was over.

Truly, this was a Scorpion’s Sting.

Despite feeling as such, he kept moving.

Because, well, the traitorous soldiers kept coming.

From behind, the rebels had joined him, led by Rafa, but he didn’t see them.

Malik only saw his enemies, and he only heard their cries.

Goliath’s Fall was constant now, flooding his muscles with strength, making every blow heavy enough to shatter bones, and every dodge fast enough to avoid a dozen blades.

Ember’s Touch coated his dagger in fire, turning a simple blade into something that could melt steel. Scorpion’s Sting flared at need, devouring the soldiers who got too close.

Every burst of fire in the night meant that another life was taken.

The soldiers surrounded him, calling for his death.

Easily more than a hundred of them.

Their blades rang against the rebels, utterly deafening.

And through it all, Malik wove.

A devil cloaked in fire.

The rebels descended from the hills.

Archers and spellcasters stayed high, providing cover, picking off soldiers who tried to flank Malik.

The others moved through the alleys and side streets, striking from the shadows.

None of them stayed still.

They hit, disappeared, and hit again.

Their attacks were quick and brutal, much like Malik’s own.

They left the attention on him, letting him draw the enemy’s eyes while they cut them down from behind.

The soldiers could not adapt.

Every time they tried to focus on the rebels, Malik cut through their ranks.

Every time they tried to focus on Malik, the rebels struck from the shadows.

Zayna, despite her earlier comprehension, didn’t fail the cause.

This was a night of fire and blood.

They were winning, and the soldiers knew that.

Some seemed to have given up, all but raising a white flag.

But of course... it couldn’t have been that easy.

Among the chaos, a familiar figure appeared.

The fake sultan.

He casually strode through the crowd of soldiers, his dark robes billowing behind him.

His face was calm and confident—the face of a man who believed his own lies.

Malik’s golden eyes locked onto him the moment he appeared.

The fake sultan raised his hand.

On his finger, a ring flashed purple.

Rukh gathered around it, forming a circle that spread across the ground beneath them.

Malik did not know what the spell was supposed to do, but...

’No, you won’t.’

He wasn’t about to wait to find out.

Fire erupted from his feet, blasting him forward, scattering the men in his path.

Malik reached the fake sultan in a heartbeat, his dagger stabbing forth.

The fake sultan’s hand swept down in a panic, trying to quicken the spell.

He failed.

The circle beneath them cracked.

Purple light exploded outward.

And then...

"You fake idiot."

Everything disappeared.