Chapter 149: Being Weak

It was Lord Sven's master-servant. Clad in a black vest and black suit, his boots smudged with mud, and edges were somewhat torn apart.

"I ran after I heard the explosion," Twali said. He doesn't felt reserved toward Ned, his voice was calm. He held Ned to stand, then leaned on Sasani as he lifted her on the ground.

Beasts screech in the blinding light. But it won't last long as trees started to show themselves against the darkness.

Gogmurch grunt and Sidric was thrown. They need to move before the old goblin started to show revenge.

"Can you move?" Asked Twali holding Sasani, like a damsel in distress. Making sure her lady won't feel disturbed. He didn't wait for Ned to reply, he dashed going east.

Left wrist marked with the old goblin's fingers. Muscles stiffened, and silver hair wore dust ana some sprinkle of dried blood. But Ned can still move. He dashed, and jumped the fence, and stopped—

Rickart, shit. Ned thought cussing. He was a foot away from the bloodied Rickart. He's alive. Their party may be new to him, but after all, they took him under them.

He was alive. Ned thought. And that is all that matters.

Instead of following the two. Ned spun and with all the strength he could muster, he lifted Rickart who was idly breathing in the middle of the settlement.

Before the rune's effect ended, for a brief moment, Ned saw a glimpse of light toward the forest where Sidric had used to guard. Might be a beast, might be a torch, or might be something of value.

Ned tsked. Lifted Rickart, muscles aching. He spun with Rickart hauled on his back. Beasts stampede toward the first human they saw. With a squinting eye, wargs, sinking hounds, and goblins made way toward Ned—the first human they saw.

Luckily, the old goblin—Gogmurch—was still busy scraping his eyes. After the last of the smoke had dissipated, his left hand. A hand he once used to mutilate his enemies, was now gone to pieces. Tidbits of meat and fresh blood seeped out the torn hand.

Gore of red liquid trickled on Ned's shoulder as Rickart's head was leaning against it. Ned dashed with the additional weight of Rickart. They went forked against Twali's path. It was blocked by the collecting beasts.

"Thag ta halooman!" Gogmurch cried, now Moloatiss was mending his amputated arm. The caterpillar opened his mouth, tongue bristled like that of humans. He then licked Gogmurch's bleeding arm, it was followed by oozing steam.

Ned doesn't understand them anymore, their beastian language was new to him. But with Gogmurch's top of the lung cry, he knew what he meant. 'Get the human', 'kill the human'. Perhaps he wants to want me alive. Ned thought. Jumping on a rock, Rickart's limbs swayed back and forth. Ned clutched the scout's leg on his side, making sure it was clipped hard enough to avoid from falling.

Rustles made their way toward Ned. The beasts were trailing, sinking hounds followed by wargs. Heaving, Ned jumped forward. Sweat streamed from his forehead and the forest seemed to grow just faintly darker. Maybe, no, more focused. Just him and Rickart and the beasts. The only wind was that of his silver hair ruffling and Rickart's empty scabbard, the only sound that of his feet hitting the ground, and the only vibration that of his heart thumping.

Not long after, the silence broke by the first sinking hound clawing toward Ned. Rickart's weight was almost two times that of Ned, his legs straining, and a claw reached his right leg. Mist of blood drifted in the air as the first sinking hound approached. Ned couldn't stop, he wouldn't. He was reluctant to stop, stopping means he couldn't go further.

Instead, he spun and bent to secure his footing. With his mana left, he muttered words and gestured. Ned could hardly raise a hand. Sparks first, followed by distortion on the end of his hand, he released a fireball.

It went whistling, then a boom. The sinking hound lost two of its front leg. It fell whimpering, alive but not for long. Pebbles and dust skirted the hound, it vanished as another hound made an entrance with preying eyes.

No time for this. Ned thought turning away from the group of hounds and wargs. Not long after, came the goblins.

Crude arrows came wooshing. A splinter of wood from his right, and a splatter of mud from his left—it was Sidric with a throbbing parasite. He hurled his long-sword supposedly to Ned, but it went stabbing against a fat tree. Ned continued onward, not leaving Rickart.

He was slow, yet determined. He turned to his right seeing a grass under the inviting light of the moon. He smiled, at least the moon was on his side. The grasses were stacked, making a small hill. Another dwelling for beasts as the hill of grass was based on rocks and edged with sticks.

He spun around the stack of grass. It was dry and Ned smiled. With a flick of his wrist, although aching and swelling he forced the mana into his palm. "Fireball," he muttered. It was tiny, the tiniest fireball he conjured. But it was enough, more than enough to start a fire.

The dried grass, in an instant, went ablaze. It was enough to halt the approaching beasts. And it was enough for Ned to stall them. He entered a spot in the forest with heavy covering: bushes, vines with different thicknesses, and turns. They're going north. To be precise, they're going to the Inner area. Sooner, if not later, Ned was sure they will stumble a river. And this river was the indication that they have entered the very edge of the Inner forest.

They lost them, it was a success. But not for long. Unrelenting, a figure approached them. It was Sidric, brushing all the stems and snapping twigs along the way. He jumped, for a moment, Ned saw a thin light running his legs. Which made him coked an eyebrow. He brushed the thought, he couldn't fight. First, Ned wasn't a hunter, he doesn't have a rank. And he didn't know what was his level according to the Hunter's Ranking System, he couldn't fight with a blind eye. Two, he has Rickart, that alone was enough to reach a decision that he shouldn't fight.

But Sidric wouldn't leave them, he landed feet away from Ned. Trees were scattered enough for them to move. Which gave Sidric a leeway to swing his long-sword. The sword gleamed under the moonlight, he swung wide open to Ned.

No swords, no bow. Ned jumped backward. Forcing his legs to heed his commands. The sword cut air. Sidric's sword was almost two meters long. And if left unchecked, Ned might lose a limb or two.

Ned threw a quick breath, holding Rickart with one. He then conjured a spell. Cussing along the way. I need more spells. Ned thought. Letting go of the fire spell.

Sidric slashed it with ease. His human instinct told him that Ned's fireball wasn't an ordinary one. He was being aware of the spell strength. He dashed left and right, trying to lose Ned's aim.

But, no, Ned's display shows Sidric's movements. And a predict where he would go. But, no, Ned couldn't follow with his body. He leaned like a hunchback as Rickart was slumped behind his back. Ned must survive. Sweat dripping his chin, he conjured another fireball. Sidric evaded. Fireball; evade. Fireball; evade was the pattern.

At two meters apart, Sidric, with blank eyes and a shining parasite, slashed the long-sword.

At two meters length, Ned couldn't duck, couldn't jump behind with tree blocking his back.

"Shit!" He cried. Grit his teeth, and clenched his jaw. At point-blank, he conjured another spell. Forget the recoil or the effects. He must block the sword. With at least the spell he would conjure. He raised his hand aimed at the blurring sword, conjuring it along the way. But Ned stopped. Saw a dark figure approaching from his right. It was Twali, for the second time, they were saved.

It was Twali—alone. Sasani wasn't with him. Twali then lunged himself between Ned and Sidric. He doesn't have a scabbard, yet, twin blade he held. Straight and identical. The twin blade blocked the long-sword, it gritted vertically. Twali bent against Sidric's force. Clenching his jaw, he grunted and forced himself to counter Sidric's sword.

It was practical for Twali to cut his hair as short as possible. He looked almost bald without his darkened hair, his eyes were narrowed looking at Sidric with admiration. He clenched his pointed jaw and looked at Ned at the tip of his eyes. "Kid," he said, grunting with his force. "Lady Sasani is safe. Follow my trail... And you'll see her hidden inside a tree. You'll know it when you get there. Now go. I'll hold him."

Ned shouldn't waste the time Twali gave him. He nodded and proceed to the path where Twali went through.

I hate this. Ned thought. Gritting his teeth, not because of the weight of Rickart. But it was his weaknesses that made him hate himself. He hates being saved, he hates that he needed to rely on someone to survive. I hate it! He cried in his thoughts. "I hate being weak!" He muttered. A boom then echoed behind him. Where Twali and Sidric fought.