"...I'll know soon enough."
The hooded mercenary's fist hurtled towards Rhys's face with blinding speed. Time seemed to slow as Rhys assessed his options. He could dodge—the punch wasn't really that fast as he could still step to the side to avoid it—but a curiosity flickered through his mind. Instead, he chose to block, his forearm rising to meet the incoming blow.
And following his curiosity seemed to have been the right decision — The impact was staggering. Despite his strength, Rhys found himself airborne, thrown back by the sheer force of the mercenary's punch. His silver eyes reflected the moon above him as he squinted his eyes—a squint; the only outward sign of his shock—as he recovered mid-air, his body twisting with catlike grace.
But the mercenary was relentless. Before Rhys could touch down, he was already waiting for him there, his green eyes glinting beneath the hood. He did not really give Rhys any time to react at all as he suddenly grabbed his ankles.
"!!!"
The mercenary then pulled Rhys down, using all of his weight to quickly slam him to the ground. Rhys's mind raced as he plummeted. This sort of strength was not something Rhys had seen from these people — even the muscular hunters of Calydon just exhibited the strengths of a Lowborn.
It was highly possible that this green-eyed mercenary had the blood of gods flowing through his veins as well. Rhys was wondering when he would actually meet a demi-god, and now here was one — and incredibly random too...
...or is it?
And as Rhys's thoughts were running in a speed of a million times per second, the ground soon rushed up to meet him, but Rhys was already planning his counter. As soon as his palms touched earth, he bounced back into a powerful kick, aiming for the mercenary's chest.
The mercenary, however, was able to block Rhys's kick; leaping back just at the right moment to completely soften blow and not be blown away. The mercenary was about to grab his feet, but Rhys just suddenly stood on his hand; spinning like some sort of ballerina as he swung his foot toward the mercenary's face.
"Heh..." The mercenary chuckled as he stepped back — but the way he did so was as if he was following a beat, "...Capoeira?" And as he whispered that, he soon started to dance and copied Rhys's stance — their leg, quickly meeting together.
But it was obvious that Rhys's was physically stronger by leaps and bounds.
The air crackled with tension as Rhys and the hooded mercenary continued their deadly dance. Each blow they exchanged sent shockwaves through the air, causing the very ground beneath them to tremble.
And very soon, the two changed their stance —both of them now trying their best not to be caught by the other—Rhys's inky black hair whipped around his face as he ducked and weaved, his silver eyes never leaving his opponent.
"...Are you working for the people of Thebes?" Rhys asked.
The mercenary, however, just responded with a flurry of punches as his stance once again became that of a boxer, each one precise and devastating. Rhys blocked and parried, but very soon, he could feel the tide of the battle turning. His opponent's technique was flawless, each movement flowing into the next with a grace that spoke of centuries of practice.
There and then, as Rhys found himself soon unable to actually land a hit — he realized he was completely outmatched in terms of technique and close-quarters combat. The mercenary seemed to be having fun too; the smile on his face proving that he was amused with Rhys.
It was weird, incredibly so. For some reason, as she felt her skin touched his, it was almost like her entire body was turning hot. She had never really felt like this before — and she shouldn't.
"...You can let go of me now, Outsider," after a few more seconds of her mind being at a lost as to what to do, Clio finally decided to unwrap her arms from Rhys, "I do not think anyone is in pursuit of us anymore."
"No."
"...Sorry?"
Rhys, however, did not let go of her at all and even tightened his arms, causing Clio to let out a soft moan as she felt the tips of Rhys's fingers slightly tickle close to the side of her breasts.
"I... I demand you to let go of me now!" Clio bellowed.
"I said no," Rhys just sighed and shook his head, "I'm moving in a way that won't make tracks — I won't be able to do that if you're running beside me. Just wait until we get to the other side of the mountain — we are going to this direction, correct?"
"That... that is what I saw in my dreams," Clio breathed in as she just tried her best to ignore the warmth of Rhys's body.
"And then where do we go after?"
"...I don't know."
"What...?" And as Clio uttered those words, Rhys finally granted her request as she just unceremoniously placed her back on the ground, "What do you mean you don't know?"
"Well... I haven't really dreamed which direction I'm going to go next after we cross the mountain." Clio reasoned.
"Dream..." Rhys blinked a couple of times as he stared at Clio in disbelief, "...I thought you received an oracle or something."
"That... that is the oracle! I... I swear, if we keep following this path. I know we will know where to go next!" Clio's voice slightly became louder, "I promise! There is—"
And before Clio could finish her words, the clouds suddenly cleared, and the light of the moon showered and veiled the sea of leaves above them. And almost as if the winds wanted to tell them something, it started splitting the formation of leaves...
...the rays of the moon, almost as if creating a path for them to follow.
"S... see?"