Marco gritted his teeth, his face pale from pain. Moving his hand, he yanked out the arrow from his left shoulder!

“Hiss?!” Blood spurted out of his wound, which he hurriedly covered with his hand. Flowing his energy through his shoulder, the bleeding gradually stopped.

Zethir cursed, turning to look at where the arrow came from. “We've been found, hurry up!” He yelled, grabbing Augustin by the arm and dashing off.

“Wait— Carry Marco instead! He's injured!” Augustin cried out, looking behind them.

“He's fine,” Zethir said, speeding up.

Behind them, Marco stood up shakily, before taking off after the two. To Augustin's surprise, he wasn't any slower than Zethir, who was running so fast that his cloak was fluttering like butterfly wings.

“I'm fine,” Marco smiled, seeing Augustin's worry. “Us elites aren't the same as ordinary humans. You'll understand when you reach our level,” he said.

Hearing this, Augustin looked at the wound on Marco's shoulder. The iron chestplate he was wearing did nothing against the arrow. The only thing it did was show where Marco was hit.

“If you say so,” Augustin shook his head and looked around. Looking at where they were going, he couldn't help asking, “How come they haven't fired another arrow?”

Zethir frowned. “Don't ask me.”

“They probably don't have much energy left,” Marco said from behind. “After all, we're just humans. We don't have infinite energy.”

“Energy… what about you, Marco?” Augustin looked behind him.

“I practice arcane, my magic comes from the surroundings… you practice arcane too, don't you?” Marco casted a doubtful look at Augustin.

“I…”

“Tsk, quiet. I can sense people ahead,” Zethir butted in. Then, throwing Augustin from his shoulder, he unsheathed his sword.

Ahead of them, an arrow shome brightly in blue, tearing apart the air as it traveled the air.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

ZZIIIII—BOOM!

A tree on its way tore into two, it's upper half falling forward and it's lower half being half uprooted.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Trees fell one after the other, but the arrow gained more and more momentum instead. Finally, after piercing a dozen trees, Zethir and the others were able to see the arrow.

Zethir swung his sword—BANG!!!

“Zethir!”

A shockwave threw the two mages off their feet, followed a cloud of dirt engulfing Zethir. Zethir gasped, his arms feeling numb from the impact.

He managed to cut the arrow in half, maing it lose its blue glow. However, the muscles in his arms were almost torn!

“Marco!” Zethir yelled, his eyes glowing a fierce red like two balls of fire.

“On it!” Marco hurriedly stood up, raising his hands to gather energy.

Gray dots of energy gathered around his hands like a swath of fireflies. Then, as he mixed it with his energy, the energy started turning green, and soon it was emitting steam.

This was arcane energy.

As soon as the arcane energy was ready, Marco's eyes bursted in a fierce green glow. Swinging his arms, rocks all around them started to levitate, before gathering around him.

“Follow me!” Yelled Zethir, who was already far away from the two.

A second after Marco started gathering energy, he already took off. Using the trees as footholds, he dash in a zigzag, rapidly moving forward. As soon as he yelled, dozens of fist-sized rocks chased after his body.

“Found you,” Zethir mumbled, jumping from the trunk of another tree. Like a bullet, he flew forward, his eyes trained on the man standing straight with his bow drawn back.

The arrow cocked in the bow was starting to glow blue, and as soon as Zethir and the bowman locked eyes, the bowman released the string.

Zethir spun mid-air, dodging the arrow, but he was forced to land abruptly. Then, like a panther, he pounced on the bowman.

In an instant, his sword was already inches away from the bowman's neck.

“Heh,” the bowman scoffed, swiftly raising his hand. Then, before Zethir's widened eyes, the bowman blocked his sword with the back of his hand.

“Tch,” Using the bowman's hand, he used his sword to launch himself away from the man.

“A warrior?”

The bowman scoffed, patting his now untidy dark-blue uniform. “A blind man?” He taunted, shooting two arrows at Zethir one after the other. Zethir cut both of them expressionlessly.

“Where's the others?” Zethir asked, walking toward the bowman, who fired four more arrows.

“You're wasting your time~” The bowman sang.

“Yes,” Zethir nodded. But then, the bowman turned around, squinting at the dozens of rocks shooting toward him.

“Hehe,” chuckling, the bowman raised a hand and opened his palm. Then, a half-dome blue energy shield manifested in front of him.

“A mage?” Zethir whispered, and finally, the bowman's eyes widened in surprise. Zethir was already behind him, breathing down his neck.

{=|=}{=|=}{=|=}

“Ha… Ha…”

Kneeling, Fernando stabbed his sword on the ground, if nothing just to keep himself upright. His glowing topaz-like eyes started to dim, blood flowing at the corner of his lips like drool.

His body, once protected in full iron armor, was now covered in blood, his armor shattered and on the ground.

“Putui!” He spat blood on the ground, glaring at the dozen men approaching him. None of them wore armor, only dark-blue military uniform, and they were all holding a sword.

“Noble’s bastards, you're so slow,” he grinned, cackling soundlessly, his teeth caked with blood.

“Hm~ Sir Fernando surely jest~” A whistle came from behind the twelve swordsmen. The swordsmen stepped aside, giving way to Lance who leisurely walked toward Fernando.

Behind him, five bowmen followed.

“What would your son think~?” Lance placed the tip of his spear on Fernando's chin, using it to raise the latter's head.

Gritting his teeth, Fernando's eyes glowed fiercely, his blood roaring in defiance. Sadly, he was but a candle at the end of his life.

“My son is none of your business,” he tried to rise, but his knees had already given up.

Lance hummed. “Well~ Did you ever care for your son? Rumor has it, the honorable sir Fernando is a bastard father!” he chuckled.

Surprisingly, Fernando chuckled with him. “Men thrive in hard times.”

“Is that so?” A voice trickled into his ears. Fernando's body turned stiff, turning his head to look behind Lance.

And then behind the bowmen.

There, a man dressed in a red uniform was calmly walking forward, his topaz-like eyes dim with dismay.

“I'm disappointed,” the man said, “Father.”