Within a week on the road he had come to know many of the people except for one group that rarely left their wagon unless it was for one of them to pop their head out to demand something. It became apparent that they were from the upper crust of society so to speak. Wyatt was told to steer clear of them. Apparently they all had relatively high cultivation compared to most of the population just because they were from the nobility. More resources, and training were poured into them to help them achieve success. It was like generational wealth on earth except here it also let you punch through a tree. Orkan the head of the caravan guards told him that although they advanced in their cultivation this specific group was all lazy. While they may be more durable and faster than a lesser cultivator they would still lose against a well trained opponent with even minimal levels of cultivation.
Whenever there was down time anyone who wasn’t needed to actively watch would take turns training. Occasionally Wyatt would see one of the nobles looking on and sneering at them. It was rather frustrating seeing examples in this world that seemed to mirror the disdain of those on top of those who were not. It just fueled Wyatt to train even harder. His connection between the fang and Joy continued to increase. He could temporarily increase his strength, his speed, and the precision of his movements had greatly increased. Even being physically slower than the other guards he was often able to fight them to a draw, occasionally even winning the bouts. Time seemed to pass slowly on the road with the rather boring routine. At first it had grated on Wyatt, but when he started to see huge gains in his fighting prowess he threw himself wholeheartedly into his training.
The integration of Joy into his fighting style came with some unexpected consequences. Wyatt could much more freely converse with Joy. It was still not the same as talking with words, but it had become much easier for him to interpret the feelings she was sending him. It all built on itself. The closer he got to Joy outside of combat the better they worked together in combat, and vice versa. ‘It’s funny that the person I am closest to in my life is the ghost of an animal from another world than the one I was born on. Sounds like the start of a bad joke, and yet it is completely 100% true.’
It was about 3 and a half weeks into the trip that something unexpected happened. Wyatt was sleeping under the food wagon as he had started to do when a massive explosion woke him. Wyatt woke up to a night that was as bright as day. He could feel the heat front he explosion, and he saw what appeared to be a giant glowing hand flowing through the air towards the wagon that contained the nobles. A moment before it struck he saw Orkan create some sort of blue shield around himself blocking the hand. It still detonated creating a huge explosive sound. Orkan was bleeding, and it also looked like he had suffered some burns. Wyatt looked towards where the big hand made of energy had come from. There appeared to be 3 nooku wearing what looked like Karate Gi’s standing there. Wyatt expected the nobles to come out to fight so he was rather surprised when a huge flash went off, and their entire wagon disappeared.
Everyone but Orkan stopped in surprise. The entire wagon had vanished in a flash. Orkan took full advantage of everyone’s surprise, lunging forward and slamming his fist into one of the 3 Nooku’s faces. A moment later Orkan was thrown backwards about 30 feet. One of the Nooku said “That was a mistake. We would have left everyone alone, but now that you have forced the issue none of you will be leaving here.” It was said in a deep even tone as if it was a fact. There was no emotion in the voice, and it was the single most terrifying thing that Wyatt had ever heard. One of the three Nooku was trying to pick himself off the ground from Orkan’s hit. Orkan himself was lying on the ground wheezing. Everyone else was still in shock. The man that had punched Orkan seemed to be their leader given he was the one who spoke, and also that he radiated power.
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Wyatt determined that if anyone was going to survive this a sneak attack against the leader would be of the utmost importance. He started to move himself from under his wagon and allowed Joy to merge with him. Silently moving out he headed into the woods looping around behind the nooku. He was like a silent ghost moving through the brush. His memories combined with Joy, and he stalked forward with no sound. As he got closer he saw the injured nooku who had managed to get up to his knees. His plan was originally to ambush the leader, but if this man was recovering and he was the one Orkan attacked first there had to be significance to that. Orkan was many things, but a fool was not one of them. Without knowing what was happening with everyone else Wyatt summoned up as much power as he could channeling it through the fang. Then with a decisiveness that only seemed to be possible for him in these high stress moments he jumped forward slamming the fang straight through the back of the nooku’s head. He didn’t hesitate for even a second already moving back into the shadows. Apparently his first attack went unnoticed because he was able to put himself behind the second of the nooku without too much trouble. He felt bad about essentially murdering this person, but replaying that emotionless voice in his head telling him he wouldn’t be leaving was enough to get him moving. Whether it was because the other had been already injured or if this guy had better awareness his target moved as he attacked. It still caught him off guard enough the attack did damage it sheared through his arm, and cut deeply into his chest. Wyatt felt the drain this time feeling like he had just donated all the blood in his body.
Swaying on his feet staring at the stump of the man in front of him bleeding from the gash to his chest. Wyatt knew the man was still extremely dangerous and that was without taking into account the other enemy that he had lost track of, but he was giving it everything he had just to remain conscious. Joy pushed him just a bit more, and he let his body fall forward, giving the last of his energy to the fang. He didn’t even know if he was successful as he pitched forward. He was not sure if he had died or fallen unconscious. It was no longer night when he woke up bouncing along laying on the floor of one of the wagons. The sunlight felt like someone was stabbing him in the brain through his eyes, and each bump of the wagon made him feel like he was about to puke. He looked around trying to assess the situation, but even just the minor motion of turning his head to the side increased the nausea so much that it took everything he had to close his eyes and avoid puking.
Wyatt heard talking, but whether it was too far away or for some other reason he couldn’t make sense of the words he was hearing. Without realizing it he drifted off into unconsciousness. There was still daylight when he woke again, and turning to the side pushed him over the edge with his nausea. He puked, and even before he could really process what was wrong with him passed out once again. Wyatt continued to regain and lose consciousness, sometimes it was night, sometimes it was day. Occasionally he heard talking, but rarely did he understand what he was hearing. Whether it was a few days or weeks later Wyatt eventually regained consciousness, and didn’t immediately feel sick. “Hopefully .. wake up ..not certain..” Another voice responded. “Faith.. sometimes.. recover..” Wyatt was feeling much better than the other times he had woken up, but he still felt incredibly tired. He tried to call out, but just ended up coughing. Closing his eyes after his unexpected coughing fit he didn’t even realize he was drifting off to sleep again.