Chapter 447: Disciple
In that fleeting moment of realization, Orso's mind pieced together the puzzle, unraveling the truth hidden beneath the chaos. The assailant who had attacked him and the one he had been mistakenly accusing as a traitor was none other than Tesa, the Vice-Leader's trusted confidant.
Tesa, a young and formidable lone wolf, had yet to ascend to the esteemed ranks of the elders. However, his strength and skills were not to be underestimated. Despite his youth, Tesa had earned a reputation as a true hero, a guardian of the village and city. Time and again, he had risen to the occasion, protecting countless lives from the clutches of menacing monsters and the ravages of unforgiving natural calamities.
His valor and selflessness had garnered him the admiration and gratitude of hundreds, who regarded him as a symbol of hope and protection. Tesa's unwavering dedication to safeguarding the welfare of his people had forged his path as a legendary figure within the clan.
Furthermore, whenever tasked with distant missions that required his presence, Tesa demonstrated unparalleled precision in accomplishing his objectives. Notably, Tesa held the remarkable distinction of never losing a single teammate during these perilous ventures, solidifying his standing as a beacon of trust and reliability.
His exceptional track record and unwavering commitment to the safety of his comrades endeared him to the hearts of many esteemed elders within the clan. Their trust and admiration for Tesa paved the way for him to ascend to the position of a direct disciple under the tutelage of the Vice-Leader himself.
With a grimace etched upon his face, Orso summoned the last vestiges of his fading strength. His trembling left hand, fueled by sheer willpower, reached out to intercept the deadly blade. Time seemed to slow as his trembling fingers closed around the hilt, a momentary respite from the unrelenting pain coursing through his body.
The sword, unable to penetrate any deeper, was held at bay by his resolve. But the damage had been done, the fatal wound compounded by the merciless strike. As the seconds ticked by, Orso's strength waned, his grip on the sword slipping. He knew that his time was drawing near, the veil of life growing thinner with each passing heartbeat.
Summoning the last remnants of his ebbing vitality, Orso mustered a resounding cry, his voice echoing through the chaos-ridden battlefield. His declaration, filled with unwavering conviction, pierced through the cacophony of battle and reached the ears of the vice-leader.
"He is the traitor!"
Time seemed to stand still as the vice-leader's eyes locked with Orso's, disbelief and shock etching deep lines on his face. The deafening silence enveloped them both, broken only by the heavy panting and the symphony of clashing weapons that continued to echo in the background.
Orso's voice, though strained and weakened, resonated with an undeniable urgency. His words reverberated through the air, carrying the weight of truth and accusation. Each syllable seemed to hang in the air, permeating the battlefield with a sense of betrayal and impending revelation.
The vice-leader stood frozen in his tracks, his mind caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
lightsΝοvel One side stood his disciple, Tesa, the wolf whom the vice-leader had watched grow and nurtured with unwavering support for over a decade. The bond between them ran deep, built on trust, shared experiences, and countless battles fought side by side. Tesa was like a son to him, and the vice-leader's heart ached at the thought of his beloved disciple being labeled a traitor.
On the other side stood Orso, a trusted elder and a loyal friend who had walked the path of life alongside the vice-leader for more than four decades. They had weathered storms together, their unwavering camaraderie forged through countless trials and tribulations. Orso's loyalty had never wavered, and the vice-leader held his wisdom and counsel in the highest regard.
The vice-leader found himself torn between two pillars of his life, both stained by the shadows of doubt and accusation. The decision before him was not one to be taken lightly.
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