Chapter 52: One Warrior, Three Wanderers
Narrowing his eyes, Darien stared at the unfamiliar figures.
Aura saturated the desolation, conquering the mist itself and leaving tension between him and his assailants.
’Shameless wanderers,’ he thought.
Although he didn’t know them personally, Darien could recognize this type anywhere.
"That shield of yours isn’t bad. It actually took my shot clean without cracking," one said.
The second, a woman clad in a light-blue dress, usually double-split for female warriors, glanced at the orange glow in Darien’s possession.
"But that weapon... now that’s a treasure worth killing for, young man."
Wanderers were rogue fighters who found their way into the Primordial World just to lurk in the shadows, waiting to rob young warriors of their kills or ambush them for loot.
Most of them weren’t even strong at all, but their cunning and desperation made them dangerous at the wrong moment.
Unfazed, Darien’s glare cut through the fog sharper than his sword.
His expression alone told them to back off. He wasn’t some greenhorn warrior to be cornered and stripped.
But the wanderers didn’t flinch. Their hungry eyes lingered on him, on his armor, on his blade.
Like a bowstring, the tension stretched, the air thick and dreaded, daring one side to snap it first.
The first man had wind affinity, the woman a water awakening, while the third was merely a knight, though he wielded a massive warhammer.
They were all Rank 1, and if they did not know, they stood no chance against Darien. He knew they were dying today.
What if these wanderers were the ones who’d waylaid his party?
As Darien considered that possibility, he decided he’d make their deaths more excruciating if they had been his party’s killers.
"Have you seen any young warriors around here—about my age?" he asked the figures calmly.
But the warhammer fighter sneered.
"Maybe we saw some, maybe we didn’t," the woman said as her fingers liquefied into threads of water. "Either way, you won’t be leaving this place alive."
The others laughed mockingly, their smiles cold and hungry.
No more words were needed from them. Darien concluded everything from their tones.
"You three are dying here," he said to them as he snapped his blade open.
~fwisssshh!
Darien gave his enemies no time to act as he lunged forward with glowing eyes and a blank face.
By the time they saw him, he was already bent low, and before them, his sword was carving a molten arc through the fog.
~SHLESSHH!
The warhammer knight didn’t even have time to lift his weapon before Darien’s blade ripped clean through his midsection, splitting stomach to spine in just one stroke.
The man’s agonized scream died with him as he collapsed into two steaming halves before Hellheart consumed his corpse.
Calmly, Darien rose as his gaze shifted toward the two survivors.
Their confidence was shattered, terror painting their faces.
It was plausible for a young warrior to already possess a magical shield, but that speed and blade art were far beyond the range of what they could comprehend.
This was no warrior—this was a monster wearing human skin!
The two wanderers exchanged desperate glances as fear gripped them, stealing their breath away.
The wind fighter was the most disturbed, wearing a pale face, while the water woman was frozen, still trying to process the brutality she had just witnessed.
’I knew it. A target coming from our sender was never going to be some normal young warrior.’
"This... this isn’t what we signed up for," the wind fighter stammered, stepping back. "No pay is worth dying for!"
’Isn’t he one of the novices today? And yet... he’s already at Expert. What have we gotten ourselves into??’
The woman hissed silently as she assessed Darien, water dripping from her fingers, ready to strike, though her eyes betrayed her sudden fear of him.
The wanderers knew they had no chance. The boy had a magical shield that their low-ranked spells couldn’t penetrate.
And his speed was too swift and merciless for Rank 1, making it difficult for their eyes to follow him.
They had been specifically hired to capture Darien, and it seemed their hirer had left out some crucial details about this target!
The wind fighter acted the instant Darien shifted, knowing the boy’s next strike was already coming.
In desperation, he flung out a short burst of wind that swept up the black dust until it rose in a blinding storm.
Darien lifted his forearm to shield his eyes. He admitted to himself that he hadn’t seen that coming.
By the time the dust settled seconds later, the two wanderers were gone from his line of sight.
But Darien could still feel their presence in the area.
His blood boiled in haste to find them as he whipped his gaze left and right, scanning the fog, the earth, and even the sky.
And then, he caught them!
High above, the wind fighter was fleeing, carried by a cloud of air beneath his feet, while the woman clung desperately to his clothes.
"How dare you try to leave me with that monster?!" the woman hissed.
"Let go, you bitch!" the man barked back, kicking his legs and wiggling furiously as if he could shake her off like a stray cat.
Darien began laughing at the cowards as he watched them thrash about just to escape.
But he wasn’t going to let them evade him.
Materializing in his hand was a <Frostfang Javelin>, its crystalline tip glowing in the dark.
He hurled it with precise intent, but the duo’s frantic struggling made his target elusive.
The javelin missed the man’s skull, striking through his shoulder instead, drawing a pained scream as frost spread across his skin.
The woman was lucky to let go, dropping to the ground, while the man crashed down hard beside her.
The ice that encased him shattered instantly, leaving him trembling violently, deadly shivers wracking his body as cold blood poured freely from his torn shoulder.
The anguished cry of her colleague drowned her heart, but the woman gritted her teeth, facing Darien.
Walking calmly toward them, Darien was met with a flurry of water magic.
"Wave Ball!"
"Greyer Strike!"
Each spell was futile against his magical shield, but he chose to sidestep them regardless.
He closed the distance in no time, and with an X-shaped slash, he severed the fingers of the woman’s outstretched hands, sending her wailing in pain and shock.
Her scream pierced the air.
"We didn’t kill your party!" she cried, but her words were cut short as Darien’s sword impaled her through the neck.
-950!
Darien paused as Hellheart consumed the woman’s corpse, the flames licking the air until her body was gone.
We didn’t kill your party?
’Now... what did she mean by that?’ Darien thought, confused. ’I just killed you guys for nothing, then?’
Turning, Darien noticed the wind fighter still alive, sprawled in the shattered frost with blood soaking his shoulder.
It was a good thing the javelin hadn’t finished the man in one strike. If the woman’s last words were true, then he might have the full story from this one.
Dropping to a knee, Darien retrieved an Uncommon healing ointment from his Inventory.
He uncorked it and poured the substance directly into the gaping wound.
Of course, a half-dead man wouldn’t be able to talk.
Within five seconds, the magic quickly took effect, flesh stitching together until the wound was sealed shut with a scar.
The man gasped from both relief and fear, but a shadowed figure was looming above him.
"Your colleague said you three didn’t kill my party. Is that true?" Darien asked.
The man nodded frantically, fear dripping from his eyes. "Y-Yes... yes, we didn’t kill them!"
"Then what did you do with them?"
Swallowing hard, the man let his words tumble out. He was bent on exonerating himself if it meant snitching.
"We were only hired—to capture them. The Velgrane heir gave the order... we were to use them as bait... and bring you to him too. That’s all! I swear it!"
Darien’s eyes lit up, recognizing the name.
’Vincent Velgrane... wants to capture me? Man, what have I done??’
Somehow, he realized he had been a thorn in the Duke’s son’s side for a while now, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.
Was it the arena duel, where he had humiliated him in front of the crowd? Or maybe it was his constant success in modules, shining brighter than the mages?
Whatever the reason, it had to be dire enough for the crowned Earl himself to send these gutter rats after him, and worse, to take his party hostage as bait!
"Believe me," the man begged, crying.
"Of course, I believe you. Damn, who wakes up one day and forges a story like this?"
Darien glanced around before asking, "Well then, where’s he keeping them hostage, and where’s he?"
"At... at the Sanctum!" the man blurted out, eager to prove his worth to the young warrior. "There are a lot of guards there."
Hearing this, Darien rose to his feet, lifting his gaze to the first pure white full moon ahead, peeking through the mist.
The Sanctum was the only known landmark at the twilight edge of Duskfall City, so Darien knew he was already close.
He was relieved that his party wasn’t slain after all, but he was also disturbed by this new revelation of being wanted.
Ever curious, Darien knew he couldn’t simply dismiss this and pretend like he hadn’t heard any of it.
Looking down, he surprisingly thanked the pitiful soul before taking firm steps forward to the moonlight.
Behind, the shivering man trembled even harder as the boy’s presence passed by.
Mustering the courage through fear, he croaked out, "S-so... I’m free to go...?"
Without looking back, Darien dismissed him.
"Sure, run away, you scalawag."
The man instantly heeded. But he was too weak to summon his floating skill, so he lunged forward, running as fast as his shaky legs could carry him.
With a pounding heart, he was relieved that he hadn’t died like his two comrades.
But Darien’s steps halted. He turned slightly, looking back at the cowardly figure running into the mist like a frightened animal.
Suddenly, the earth rumbled before convulsing as a colossal hand of stone burst upward beneath the runner’s feet.
With a crushing force that snapped bones, the hand clamped around the man’s body.
–1699!