Chapter 350 Opportunity To Reunite

It felt as though his insides had turned to mush; heat soared through his abdomen as warmth flooded from his stomach. Even wounded as he was, he was forced to roll over just as the massive, reinvigorated champion crashed down after a dramatic leap, attempting to crush him beneath its foot.

Only barely did he manage to avoid being crushed, but it hardly seemed to matter when he could only pick himself up to a single knee before the drooling beast was in front of him again, lifting its brutal club up with lethal intent.

CLANG

As heavy as death, the club descended like a falling tower, though it stopped just short of bashing in the man's head as he sat there on a knee, witnessing a familiar figure intercept the attack, holding the large club back with a claymore.

"Are you alright, Vandread?"

Forcing the checkered champion back with a burst of darkness, Asher stood there as his jet-black tufts brushed aside from the gale of battle.

Vandread stood back up, silently walking past Asher as he left a pat on the adolescent's shoulder before standing in front of him.

"Hey? You're bleeding pretty badly," Asher warned.

"It means this fight is interesting now," Vandread said, not looking back as he tore his shirt away.

The dark-skinned man's torso was mostly painted in blood from the few holes left bore in his abdomen, yet he didn't wince or look moved at all by the condition of his body, only wielding his two daggers while facing the salivating alpha.

"Sit back and watch me," Vandread said.

Asher looked perplexed before slowly nodding, sheathing his claymore, "You're Emilio's teacher, right? I've been interested in seeing what you can really do."

"You'll get what you want, then."

It was a similar development that the Dragonheart had experienced through delving into the true core of life-and-death battle; one that Vandread understood well as he tapped into that flow as he felt his body heat up and blood drip from his wounds.

"The Zone".

A state where bloodlust is refined into a masterful condition; where pain fades; blood boils and one's heart dances, beating like a drum in one's ears before–silence. A lull where killing becomes one's sole nature begins.

The moment he reversed the grip of one of his daggers, the black-and-white goliath moved with that monstrous speed, covering the distance between them in an instant and moving behind Vandread.

Though it appeared at first that the silver-eyed man failed to track the bestial champion's speed, he instead flicked his hand without looking behind him, launching a weaponized projectile of his own blood into the champion's eyes.

"Nrgh?!" The beast reacted as the crimson fluid blinded it.

Using his own lost essence as a tool, Vandread took advantage of the beast's stolen sight, closing in within an instant as he leapt up, going for a slash against the champion's throat as he needed to jump in order to reach it properly.

He scraped his dagger across its neck, though its fur was thick and its muscles were dense, leading only to a shallow cut landing.

"Tch," Vandread clicked his tongue.

As a swing of the club came his way in retaliation, he curved his body in mid-air, managing to just barely, but intentionally, evade its violent end. Even if it came close to touching him, even if the raw speed of the checkered champion surpassed his own, it never had a chance of hitting; this was due to the "Zone" and what it meant for the veteran killer.

The world before his eyes connected like a series of threads, all of which led to the singular goal of killing the enemy before him; a plethora of choices carved from his decades of experience.

Asher witnessed this clash, finding himself thoroughly impressed and in disbelief at the execution of the man's movements.

'It's one thing when you have the power of a System backing you up, but…Vandread has none of that; he doesn't even use magecraft. This is somebody that has honed their craft to such a level that with their own skill, they can challenge both magic and systems–he's an anomaly in his own right,' Asher thought.

Flawlessly and without flinching, Vandread weaved through the blurry swings of the club with minimal movement, all while attempting to find the opening in which he can launch his own counterattack. Each of the checkered beast's swings were faster than what a normal person could perceive, causing the air to howl and stone to shatter.

"Found it."

Swinging through the air with enough force to turn a human into nothing more than crimson splatter, the club swept by, only for Vandread to already have leapt forward, weaving perfectly through the attack as he ran up the beast's arm.

Asher witnessed this counterattack with complete intrigue, almost missing it with how fast and seamless it was executed by Vandread; using the momentum from his own run, Vandread plunged his daggers into either side of the champion's head through both of its ears.

"Your hide was too tough, but there are openings in every creature–that's no different for you," Vandread spoke quietly.

A true testament to the extraordinary limits of humanity; despite facing a bestial champion that wielded such monstrous power, the daggers of Vandread knew how to cut the thread of life unlike any other, leaving him standing over the fallen champion as he withdrew his daggers.

Vandread let out a single tired breath before wiping the blood from his chin, looking over at the other man in the room, "Let's find the others."

"...Right. Sure," Asher nodded.



Walking through the checkered forest almost aimlessly, Emilio kept his lesser elemental spirits manifested, closely scanning the area, though to little avail.

"Where are they? We couldn't have been thrown that far from one another, right? I mean, we found each other pretty quickly," Joel remarked.

"We can probably chalk that up to a bit of luck," Emilio said.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya," Joel sighed.

The mist was heavy and dense, leaving sprinkles of water when walking through it; even the four lesser spirits he summoned couldn't seem to look far past the fog at all.

"Anything?" Joel asked.

Emilio held his hand out as the elemental spirits returned to him, shaking his head, "Nothing yet."

The silver-haired man sat down on a fallen tree log with a sigh, "Urgh."

"What?" Emilio stopped, looking at him.

"I think we should stop and wait it out for a bit," Joel recommended, "I mean, we're making good time, right? We're pretty close to the destination with a lot of time to spare–I just think it'd be best to try seeing if they come to us."

Thinking about it for a moment, at the very least, Joel was right–they were certainly making good time on approaching the Quandary Gate. Though he wanted to keep moving, he recognized it was at least worth trying to wait a bit and get some rest in.

Emilio sat down against a tree, leaning his back against the brisk trunk, "Alright. We'll wait for a few hours. Problem is…Who knows if this mist will ever die down."

"I was thinking about that, too," Joel said.

It was when sitting there for quiet time that he really felt just how mystifying the forest was; the snow-white trees, the trees that sprouted pitch-black leaves that seemed lifeless, yet constantly swaying from the movement of the mist. Something about it all felt off; it felt as though eyes were constantly on him; the shuffling of critters through the bushes felt intentional rather than the act of fleeing creatures.

'...Something about this forest is…alive,' he thought.

Joel managed to fall asleep pretty easily, snoring while laying against a moss-layered log like it was a comfortable bed, but Emilio refused to indulge in the temptation of sleep–not after the experiences he continued to suffer when trying.

He mainly stayed there, thinking of the length of his journey thus far, finding it almost comical just how difficult it truly was to achieve his goal of becoming a world-class adventurer.

'I wonder how the others are doing…Melisande, Everett, and Yuna…I hope they aren't stuck grieving over me. I'll be back soon enough, with plenty of stories to tell,' he thought.

After a few hours of remaining sat there while his friend slept, he suddenly jumped up as a shriek came from beyond the mist–

"AAAAAAAAHHH—!"

–It was a bloodcurdling shriek that sounded like bloody murder had occurred; a female voice that pierced the silence of the fog and even brought the silver-haired man out of his slumber.

"Wha…? What was that?" Joel sleepily asked.

Though he was hesitant at to what it was, by the sheer volume of it, Emilio found himself focused on one aspect of the scream:

'The others probably heard it, too! This is it–this is our opportunity to find them!' He thought.

"Come on!" Emilio shouted.

Without wasting a moment, he activated his draconic, azure armor before grabbing Joel's arm, hoisting his friend up and guiding him along as he began sprinting with superhuman speed in the direction of the shriek.

[Dragonheart System Activated]

[Current Stage: 3/10 | Dragon Warrior]

"Wait, wait, wait–! I'm not adjusted to your freakish speed—! Emilio!" Joel called out.