Chapter 30

Eren

The first light of dawn had barely crept over the horizon when Adom and the boy, breaths ragged and feet pounding against the dew-laden grass, pushed their limits, fleeing from an unseen yet palpable threat. The air was crisp, the morning quietude shattered by the urgency of their escape. Adom, was leading the way with determination etched into every step, they had been running for twenty minutes and he had been forced to use a wind spell to make them both faster and felt an unfamiliar weight dragging at his limbs, an ominous harbinger of his waning strength. Something was not right.

The city was waking, its early risers oblivious to the drama unfolding in the shadows of the grand adventurer guild building. The structure, a bastion for those who tread the fine line between bravery and folly, now served as a temporary sanctuary for two desperate souls.

Adom's heart hammered against his chest, a relentless drum echoing the frantic pace of their flight. With each stride, a sharp jolt of pain lanced through his body, a vivid testament to his physical exertion and the dire straits of his magical reserves. The status window flickered into existence before his blurred vision, a grim reminder of his precarious state:

[Warning: Your essentia levels are depleting faster than normal. Resting is advised. Hp -2]

He stumbled forward, each step a monumental effort, as the messages continued to assail his consciousness, relentless in their frequency.

[Hp -2]

Sweat drenched his brow, trickling down his temples in rivulets, mingling with the dust and grime of the road. His breaths came in short, sharp gasps, the cool morning air burning his lungs like fire. The world around him seemed to tilt and sway, a disorienting dance that blurred the edges of reality.

Adom realized with a sinking heart that the Hp reduction must be linked directly to his physical well-being. Drained of essentia and now hemorrhaging health, he was teetering on the brink of collapse. The warning was clear: stop or be stopped. Adom's did not have an extraordinary reserve of essentia right now, but it wasn't exactly on the weaker side either, so it was odd for it to deplete so fast. What caused it? He first decided to cancel the spell, yet not much changed. Did that Pablo do something? He did have an odd ability to locate me, maybe he had more things up his sleeve. He mused internally.

The boy, sensing Adom's faltering steps, cast a worried glance over his shoulder. His face, etched with concern and fatigue, was a mirror to Adom's own distress. With a decisive nod, he took the lead, his hand gripping Adom's with a strength that belied his youthful appearance. Together, they veered off the main path, seeking refuge in the shadow of the adventurer guild's imposing structure.

As they huddled behind the building, hidden from prying eyes, Adom's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the cold, damp earth. His chest heaved with labored breaths, each one a battle fought and lost. Sweat soaked through his clothes, clinging to his skin with a cold, clammy grip. His vision swam, the world reduced to a kaleidoscope of swirling shadows and muted light.

The young boy, ever vigilant, kept watch, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of pursuit. But Adom's focus was inward, grappling with the symptoms that screamed of essentia depletion. It was an ailment not unfamiliar to seasoned sorcerers, yet its grip on him now was like none he had ever experienced.

The signs were textbook: the sweat that drenched his body was not just from exertion but from the internal struggle to maintain his body's functions without the necessary magical energy. His vision, blurred and unreliable, was a direct consequence of his brain being starved of the essentia it needed to process and interpret his surroundings correctly.

In the quiet of their makeshift haven, Adom leaned heavily against the rough stone wall, the cold seeping through his sweat-drenched clothes. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a Herculean effort that brought no relief. The boy, sitting close, offered silent support, his presence a steady anchor in the storm that raged within Adom.

The young sorcerer closed his eyes, trying to marshal the remnants of his strength. He knew the dangers of essentia depletion all too well—the body could only compensate for so long before it began to shut down. And without immediate rest and replenishment, he was walking a thin line between recovery and collapse.

The boy peered cautiously around the corner of the building, his eyes scanning the streets for any sign of their pursuers. Satisfied that they had evaded detection, he returned to Adom's side, his young face etched with concern. "Hey, are you alright?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

Adom, gasping for breath, trying to get back up, managed a weak chuckle, "Oh yeah, yeah, been... a while since I sprinted. Just getting used to it again, haha." His attempt at humor did little to mask the gravity of his condition.

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The boy eyed him incredulously. Despite Adom's dire state, his spirit remained unbroken, a fact that both amazed and baffled the young boy. "Looks like you have essentia depletion," the boy observed with a surprising amount of insight. "A bad one at that. You should sit back down and catch your breath before it worsens."

Gratefully, Adom sank to the ground, leaning against the cool stone wall. "That's a very good idea," he admitted, the seriousness of his situation finally dawning on him.

The boy reached for a bottle strapped to his waist and handed it to Adom. "Here, water. Drink."

Adom took the bottle with trembling hands, the cool liquid a balm to his parched throat. As he drank, he noticed the status window update in his peripheral vision: [Hp+2]. The water, seemingly mundane, acted as a catalyst for his body's recovery, bolstering his health and providing a much-needed respite from the relentless drain of essentia.

After draining the bottle, Adom handed it back to the boy with a grateful nod. "Thank you," he managed to say, his breathing still labored but gradually easing.

A moment of silence passed between them, a shared understanding of the ordeal they had just endured. Then the boy, his curiosity piqued by the events that had transpired, ventured a question. "Pablo's fingers, how did you..."

Adom remained silent, the weight of the boy's gaze heavy upon him. He knew acknowledgment could expose more of his secrets.

"Thank you," the boy continued, his voice firm and sincere. "You saved my life back there. I owe you a debt."

Adom offered a weary smile, the lines of exhaustion etched deep on his face. "Eh, don't sweat it, kid," he said, his tone light despite the gravity of their situation.

"Kid?" the boy echoed, a hint of surprise in his voice. "You look the same age as me, though."

Realizing his slip, Adom hastily corrected himself, his mind still foggy from the depletion. "Ah, I'm still a bit dizzy, sorry about that." He then shifted the conversation, seeking to understand more about their predicament. "But why was that guy trying to stab you?"

The boy's expression darkened, the weight of his past burdens momentarily overshadowing the relief of their escape. "My father owed him and his gang some money," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "He died last year, and now I gotta pay them back."

Adom's expression softened as he acknowledged the boy's harsh reality, "I see... sorry about your dad..."

The boy's face hardened at the mention of his father, his voice tinged with bitterness, "Don't be, he deserved it."

Adom respected the boy's pain, choosing not to probe further into his turbulent past. The world had shown its harshness once more, and Adom was no stranger to it. He simply offered the boy a nod, an unspoken understanding between them.

The tension eased slightly as the boy introduced himself, "My name is Eren, by the way." He extended his hand in a gesture of newfound camaraderie.

Adom grasped it firmly, "I'm Adom."

Eren's curiosity got the better of him as he asked, "Adom, are you a sorcerer?" Adom's nod in response brought a light laugh from Eren. "I've always had a lot of respect for sorcerers," he admitted, his earlier tension momentarily forgotten.

Adom thanked him, appreciating the boy's candidness. Their brief moment of levity, however, was shattered by a distant howling. Eren's face drained of color, panic creeping into his voice, "Shit, they found us."

Adom, alarmed, scanned their surroundings, "Who's 'they'?"

"The hounds. The gang after me. They must have tracked us here," Eren explained, his voice laced with fear. "Are you good to go?"

Adom assessed his condition; his health was slowly improving, and his essentia reserve was gradually replenishing, but not nearly enough for another sprint. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "I am still a bit too weak to run."

Undeterred, Eren grabbed a stick from the ground and assumed a defensive stance. Adom couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "What are you doing, Eren?"

Eren's resolve was palpable, "I cannot leave my savior in danger, so I'll have to fight them while you recover."

Adom raised an eyebrow, "You know we're in the middle of the city, right? Right at the adventurers' guild's doors. Granted, it's closed right now, but do you think they would try anything here?"

Eren's determination didn't waver despite his panic, "You have no idea what they would do."

Adom's mind raced as he pieced together a plan. "Can you cast any fire magic spells?" he inquired, hoping to utilize the boy's skills, if he had any, to their advantage.

Eren's nod came with a hint of pride. "I can fire at least 18 times," he declared, a statement that took Adom by surprise. For someone so young and seemingly without formal training, this level of proficiency was remarkable.

Curious, Adom allowed himself a discreet glance at Eren's level, noticing the '6' floating above the boy's head. The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow. Eren was on par with Damus, a formidable sorcerer in his own right. And yet, Eren didn't appear to be affiliated with Xerkes Academy, suggesting he might be self-taught or under the tutelage of a hidden master. The implications were staggering, and Adom couldn't help but feel a newfound respect for the young man before him.

With the urgency of their situation pressing down on them, Adom quickly formulated a strategy. "Wait for my signal," he instructed Eren, "and then cast three simultaneous fire spells into the sky, as far as you can."

Eren's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why?" he asked, the logic behind the plan eluding him.

Adom's response was swift, his voice carrying the weight of their dire circumstances. "It's the Mandrake special guard's urgency signal. If we make enough noise, they'll definitely come here to investigate."

The plan was a gamble, but with their options dwindling and the threat of the hounds looming ever closer, it was a risk Adom was willing to take. The special guard was known for its swift response to danger, especially when signaled from the middle of the city. If Eren's display of fire magic was grand enough, it would surely draw their attention—and, with it, their aid.

Eren nodded, understanding dawning on his face. The stakes were clear, and the role he had to play was crucial. With a newfound determination, he readied himself, his focus narrowing on the task at hand. The air around them seemed to charge with anticipation, the early morning stillness bracing for the imminent eruption of magic.

Adom watched, his body tense, as Eren raised his hands to the sky. The boy's concentration was palpable, a visible aura of energy gathering around him. Adom knew that the success of their plan—and possibly their very survival—hinged on what happened in the next few moments.