Chapter 199 Dance With The Devil

Soon, night crawled over as a result of the sun-like crystal in the air dimming, releasing pollen-like particles that danced through the isolated air, resembling stars.

Nightfall?...Can’t say I’m excited for that, he thought.

It was devastatingly dark; the glistening pollen above hardly provided any light, forcing him to move through the ominous forest of death.

The sound of weightful footsteps crunching twigs and leaves caused him to duck into a bush again, opting to avoid a fight if he could.

“–” He suppressed his breathing.

What he found marching through the sea of trees was a humanoid figure, though clearly not; its flesh was of rotting bark, each step it took sounded as if wood was creaking. There were vines hanging from its body and flowers blossoming, yet wilting.

What is that...? He questioned.

There was no part of him that wanted to find a specific answer as he watched the humanoid tree groan and march past. If it was a version of him from perhaps a few months or even weeks prior, he might have found himself confronting the entity out of confidence. Though it was likely in his mind he could handle it, that wasn’t the problem.

He learned of his own limits in his time in Larundog; if a fight could be avoided without consequence, it was the best course–especially when there would no doubt be unavoidable conflict in the future.

Pressing his back against a tree, he was unable to watch it directly, only listening to it shuffle through the leaf-covered ground while it groaned out as if anguished.

As its footsteps became distant, he let out a sigh of relief, picking himself up as he moved in a different direction than where the tree lifeform went.

This place is too much. Please...be alright, Melisande, he thought.

Into his night-crept search, rain began to fall, though that too was contorted by the ways of the valley; rather than plummeting downwards from non-existent clouds, it came sideways, both left and right.

It was a surreal sight as he held his hand out, watching the droplets of rain land against his hand from the unorthodox directions.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget just what kind of world I’m living in...I’ve been here for fifteen years now, but it all feels so magical still at times like this, he thought.

While he was entranced by the logic-defying rain, a rustle of the bushes to his left pulled him out of his distraction just as something caught the corner of his eye.

It was a humanoid figure, of yellow skin and pointed ears, lunging towards him with a knife:

A goblin? He realized.

Though it came to him with a surprise attack, he was far above the league of the cowardly monster, ducking beneath the incoming blade and countering with a straight punch into its gut. Filled with riveting intent, the draconic force swirling in his blood bolstered the blow with enough force to ripple the goblin’s insides. In the heat of the moment, nothing restrained him as he was able to conjure the might of a dragon in his knuckles, sending it flying back as it slammed against the tree.

The entire bulk of the tree shook as leaves fell with the yellow-skinned goblin seeping blood from its pores, felled in one blow.

For a moment, he was still surprised at his own strength, though there was no time to be as more rustling met his ears, bringing him to spin around, finding that there was undoubtedly an entire group of the fiends surrounding him.

“–Where there’s one, there’s a dozen...Father taught me that much,” he mumbled to himself.

He could barely see the short, conniving creature behind the veil of the foliage.

Emilio’s first instinct was to grab the staff strapped to his back, but stopping to think for a moment, he realized it’d be entirely a waste of mana to use spells on goblins. Instead, he unsheathed the sword gifted to him by his parents.

CLANG.

Before the man’s blade could graze the unknowing girl’s neck, it was intercepted by Emilio’s sword.

“–Huh?” Melisande turned around, blinking, “Emilio? You’re here! Wait...Amon? Why’re you guys...?”

Amon had a wicked smile on his lips, holding his dagger against the young man’s blade, “It seems Lady Luck still despises me after all–what awful timing. Oh well...”

“Melisande, stay back! This guy is a problem! He was going to kill you!” Emilio warned.

It was all sudden; before the eyes of the silver-haired girl, she witnessed the two clash blades through swift combat.

“You’re good,” Amon smiled, setting his lifeless, black eyes on the young man, “Unlike the other disappointments.”

There was a frightening elegance to Amon’s swordplay; the reach of his daggers wasn’t a present issue through his swiftness and ability to continuously keep Emilio locked into close distance with himself.

It resembled the Chaos God Style in some ways, through the way Amon unorthodoxically spun his blades around for unnatural strikes, but it had a methodology to it. Like a phantom of the night, Amon vanished and reappeared repeatedly. Each vanish, the young man found himself having to react at his utmost as Amon continuously attacked his blindspots.

He’s good–it’s so natural to him–I can feel it in each strike, Emilio thought, he’s used to killing others.

“What?...Amon, you were–? You!” Melisande angrily realized.

In aid of Emilio amidst the clash of steel, a spell managed to manifest without the need of words, using the girl’s anger and intent as a catalyst, a blast of wind shot directly against Amon’s back.

“Ah! That was surprising,” Amon smiled, glancing back.

Melisande was stunned, “...It did nothing?”

Though it provided Emilio with an opening; he rushed forward and managed to break through the malicious man’s guard, leaving him wide-open for the follow-up.

“Raagh!” Emilio yelled, swinging his sword without restraint.

“Ah, this is no good,” Amon remarked with a smile.

Before the steel could carve through the flesh of the murderous stranger, Amon vanished before Emilio’s eyes, leaving the young man’s sword only to swipe through shadows.

“What–?” Emilio let out.

“Behind you!” Melisande warned.

Though he was given the warning, he didn’t have time to turn around before a whisper sank into his ear from the wicked man:

“This was fun,” Amon said smoothly, “...Let’s do this again.”

As he spun around with a slash, once again, he only cut the wind. The figure was gone without a trace, leaving just the two alone in the clearing.

“...He’s gone,” Melisande said.

“Who the hell was that?” Emilio huffed.

“He saved me earlier, but...I didn’t think he was like that,” Melisande said, standing beside him, “Thanks...I needed your help again.”

“Don’t say that,” he sighed, keeping his sword out cautiously, “I’m just glad I made it in time. We need each other if we’re going to survive this trial.”

“Right,” Melisande nodded with a small smile.