The old knight swiftly sprinted through the forest in pursuit of the watchman. It had been years since the Avalon Empire entered a direction confrontation with the Everheart Kingdom, but such a thing was inevitable. Their grudge was seething to the point where one would think that it was as old as the passages of time. Yet Quincy knew better. The entire war felt off, and according to his sources, the Riverdale family wasn’t partaking because of threats from the neighboring nations.

  It was nothing more than a blatant lie that betrayed the very notion of their homeland.

  One that stung as much as the chilly spring air on his skin. His aching bones knew better than to believe such a thing. It was unprecedented for one of the Empire’s most powerful families to remain idle. And it was far more shocking that they weren’t charged with treason for their refusal. After all, what was the point in amassing such power and wealth if there were no intentions of using it? The people were already suffering, and with the sudden appearance of a demon within their borders, the situation only grew grimmer, especially after the military failed to kill it.

  Quincy shook his head after shoving his thoughts into the back of his mind. Cowardice and incompetence polluted their ranks, but there was nothing he could do except continue on his path. His figure turned into a streak of blue light, crossing through the terrain. The trees were a blur, and seeing the traces of mana that lingered on the forest floor was enough for him to track down the watchman.

  For a moment, it felt like his surroundings had died down. The ambiance of the forest fading into the distance as a shimmer of light entered his sight. Two distinct flashes of emerald cut through the air. Soaring towards him at a remarkable speed that caused him to frown. The blue veil surrounding his body hammered against his soul, rising to the challenge as his blade met the two projectiles head-on.

  The aura clashed with the essence, deflecting the arrows to the side while leaving a tingling sensation in his fingertips. He glanced at his hand before catching a glimpse of another emerald flash. His eyes snapped to the side as he caught the last one aimed at his temple with his bare hands.

  It appeared nearly out of nowhere, but soon several more flashes came into view and with a quick twist of his body. He narrowly dodged the projectiles as his armor scraped against the forest floor. Sliding to a halt, he rolled on his side and crouched on the floor with one hand on the ground, locking onto the source of the arrows.

  The watchman was several meters in front of him, and judging by the trajectory of the projectiles, it was only possible if he curved them. This meant only one possibility. Wind contractors.

  Quincy grunted before reaching behind him and pulling out one of the five javelins from the opened leather bag. In his years of experience, there was only one effective answer to dealing with those types of watchmen. He drowned out rustling leaves and the buzzing insects hidden within the foliage. Focusing solely on the sound of where the wind blew strongest.

  It was a rough guess at best, but enough to figure out their capabilities.

  His hand tightened around the wooden shaft as he took a fierce breath. Charcoal smeared the javelin’s head, hiding the sharpened tip’s luster from afar. The beating of his heart pounded heavily in his chest, fueling his body with strength as he took a step forward. Building momentum in his strides while lunging forward with all his might.

  Each step solidified the aura around the projectile. Filling it with power and once his final step hit the cold dirt path, his body jolted forward. Transferring the explosive power from his body, through his arm and into the javelin as he released it with a snap of his wrist. Soaring with a sense of purpose against the sky.

  Before Tucker could even react, he felt something tear through his cloak. Ripping the fabric before cutting through the open space between his arm and chest. The sheer pressure of the attack caused him to cough up a mouthful of blood as he gritted his teeth, holding back the urge to cry out in pain.

  His eyes focused on the javelin that embedded itself into the ground a few feet away from him, and in an instant, he fell to the side and took refuge in the bushes. Right before the object hurled into the ground, erupting the surface of the floor with a thunderous roar that shook the nearby branches of the trees. The shockwave rippled outwards like an object breaking the tension on the water’s surface. Sending dirt, stones, and fallen branches flying in every direction.

  “What the fuck was that?” Tucker cursed under his breath.

  He covered his face with his arms and took short, silent breaths to calm his racing heart. If the javelin had shifted a few more centimeters to the right, he would have died instantly. Tucker held onto the torn breastplate with his hand, feeling the bruised area pulse in agony while flinching.

  How did he know? The thought dug into Tucker’s head like a nail hammered into a wooden board. He couldn’t believe that some knight could easily pinpoint his position like that. Was it like a stroke of luck? No, impossible. If anything, he was lucky enough to live through that. There was only one possible conclusion after witnessing the eye that pinpointed his position. He had to have been marked with a spell that would reveal his general position. Just like Alex had been back at the bandit compound.

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  Tucker gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Weighing the options in his head. The essence surrounding his body vanished, and soon Sally caught his attention. The spirit’s azure eyes glistened while staring at him, followed by a subtle nod that seemed to urge him to make a decision. His companion and Newton were circling the skies at a constant pace. Fluttering their wings in steady beats while waiting for a decision. But he could tell that they were all on the same page. He needed to fight.

  The rookie closed his eyes and let his essence get drowned out by the natural breeze that swept through the air. Ignoring the clean puncture wound made within the trunk of the trees, it became clear the knight could easily attack him no matter what obstacles he put in between them. Only seconds had gone by, but the sound of heavy metal boots entered his ears.

  Thud. Thud. Thud.

  The steps drew closer. Each one matching the steady rhythm of his cold beating heart. There was no need to run. No need for fear. All he needed to do was focus on the task at hand and kill the knight that was approaching. A feat far more difficult than it sounds. But one that needed to be done since it directly affected his allies fighting on the front lines.

  Tucker kept his hand over the hilt of his sword, slowly pulling it out from its scabbard while holding the cover. The footsteps stopped, and he didn’t dare to move a muscle. With the blade partially drawn and a tiny gleam revealed from the section that was exposed, he prayed the knight hadn’t found his position. If the spell really tracked his spirit essence, then there would be no reason for his opponent to discover him. Yet as he peered over the branches, through the leaves, he could see the knight tightly grasp onto the javelin.

  An azure energy swirled around the weapon. The knight held it firmly in his hands with his eyes closed. He knew the watchman was trying to escape, but now it was harder to trace them. No longer could he feel any strong trail of wind in the forest and instead only the standard ambience. They had adapted. In such cases, they would either choose to fight or continue on foot without relying on their spirit essence and mana. He opened his eyes and stared at the lingering traces of mana that slowly vanished. The small bits slowly curling into the air like leaves being uplifted from the ground. Withering away with no visible sign left.

  Quincy adjusted the amount of aura loosely covering his javelin as he strengthened his hearing. It was safer to anticipate an ambush, since if the watchman decided to run away with feather step, their mastery of the technique would be far more advanced. Thus making it far more difficult to locate them.

  If they were inexperienced, then they would make a mistake. One that would easily be detectable by simply paying more attention, and soon it came. The soft metallic melody of a sword strumming against its scabbard.

  His soul flared as he raised the javelin above his head while pivoting on his left foot. He slid his other foot behind him and took a position akin to a lunge. With all of his might, he stepped forward with the foot behind him. Crushing the dirt floor before him, and hurled the javelin. Aura wasn’t fully needed on an attack meant to drive out his foe. Only the bare minimum amount, the rest, would be supplemented with raw strength.

  The projectile whistled while crossing the open space. Blowing a large crater through the tree trunk and releasing an ear-shrieking noise from the splintered timber, followed by clumps of bark. His foe came into sight, desperately repelling the attack with his blade as the muscles in their arm filled with tension. The struggle was admirable, and soon, its efforts would come to fruition as the javelin’s trajectory flew to the side. Tearing through the nearby trees as the watchman panted heavily with his body slouched forward.

  Tucker gritted his teeth while focusing on the knight. The throbbing in his fingertips slowly subsided, and his heart was at ease. The attack wasn’t enough to break his spirit. He was strong enough to block a few more javelins like the one just now. It was simply a question of whether he could end this battle in a timely matter. At most, he had fifteen minutes. That was all the time he could spare before falling too far behind or until the other knights arrived.

  “I see you’re no longer hiding, watchman.” Quincy stabbed his sword into the ground before him and rested both of his hands on the cross-guard. It would be easy for him to kill a watchman of this caliber, but there was one thing that bothered him. “Now, tell me—was that vile demon appearing in the backwaters of our nation your doing?”

  Demon? Tucker’s brows knitted together as he held his tongue. There was the demon that appeared when they rescued Blaire, and they may have accidentally led it to their army, but they didn’t summon it. It just appeared from that teleportation device May had found. “Depends. Will you let me go if I answer?”

  “I don’t suppose I would, but it would change whether I decide to kill you or not.” Quincy’s iron gauntlets released a small metallic rustle as he pulled the sword out.

  Tucker scoffed. “In that case, why should I even bother answering your question?” He raised his sword in response and glared at the old knight.

  “Because it’ll give you a chance to live.”

  “Bullshit. How can I trust someone I don’t even know?”

  “I swear it on my honor as a knight that if you surrender, I shall spare your life and grant you safe treatment as a prisoner of war.”

  “Honor? Don’t make me laugh. I’ve seen how your comrades operate. They don’t care about honor, so why would you—”

  “I am not those men,” Quincy interrupted, his voice etched with a firm sense of pride and belief. “I am Quincy Armstrong, banner knight of Lord Albert Cameron, unlike those who are undeserving. I have not forsaken my pride.”

  Tucker’s essence surged from his heart and out into the trees. He felt the warmth of Sally’s scales through his shirt as the companion hid beneath his iron chest plate. The other two spirits carefully circled the sky, waiting for an opportunity to strike. If anyone drew near, Gale would let him know. So, all he had to do was focus on the knight before him. “We’ll see about that.”

  “A shame you’ve chosen to quicken your death.”

  Quincy’s aura exploded, lighting up the area in a blue shimmer. The sudden light that rose from Quincy’s body was unlike anything Tucker had ever seen before. The ground beneath him cracked as the knight stepped forward. But after surviving so many confrontations, Tucker couldn’t help but feel at ease. He wasn’t scared or trembling. What took place was a firm resolve to defeat his foe. Because if he didn’t, then their mission would be compromised.