Chapter 33

Chapter 33. 

Talent Plunder of the Weakest Conscript

The dense oak forest felt like a space cut off from the outside world. Sunlight shattered into tiny pieces through the leaves covering the sky, creating wavering shadows on the forest floor.

Rian leaned his back against a thick tree trunk and, for a moment, steadied the ragged breaths he had been forcing out. The sharp pain stabbing his lungs slowly subsided.

With numb fingers, he touched his right cheek. It was where Eric’s arrow had grazed him.

Along with a stinging pain, a small amount of blood came away. The wound was not deep. Only the outer layer of skin had been lightly torn. The fact that his life had hung on that hair’s breadth did not shake his emotions in the slightest. It merely existed as a fact.

Rian reached a hand over his shoulder and checked the quiver on his back.

The steel arrowhead that had pierced through the tough leather had left behind an ugly hole. A few arrows inside the quiver had snapped in two from the impact, or their fletching had been crushed.

He carefully pulled out only the usable arrows and stuck them at his waist. The sensation of feathers brushing his fingertips felt unfamiliar.

Only four arrows remained.

‘Four chances.’

Rian let go of the broken quiver without any regret.

Tap.

The leather quiver fell soundlessly into the dry bushes. His body felt much lighter. Right now, he had to strip away everything unnecessary.

He closed his eyes.

In that instant, Elias’s senses spread through the entire forest like mist. The faint friction of leaves shaking in the wind, the smell of damp soil mixed with rotting fallen leaves, even the chirping of some unknown bird in the distance. Every piece of information composing the forest flowed into his mind like a river.

This place was no longer unknown territory. Everything was as clear as though it were a front yard he had crossed back and forth for decades.

‘This is my garden.’

Rian opened his eyes. A cold light lingered in his empty gaze. He began moving again.

He did not run frantically as before. He lowered his center of gravity as much as possible and killed his footsteps, moving as though seeping into the forest’s shadows. It was not the clumsy gait of a conscript. It was the movement of a hunter who had roamed mountains for decades.

Before long, he deliberately stepped on a rock covered in damp moss.

With a squelching sensation, the print of his military boot stamped clearly onto the dark green moss. It looked like a signpost pointing the way.

After moving a few steps farther, he changed direction and headed toward a place where dry soil was exposed. Then he drove his heel hard into the ground. Dust rose faintly, leaving a footprint deep enough for anyone to recognize.

‘I have to make him come this way.’

He had to use the pursuer’s anger and impatience. He had to keep the bastard biting at the bait in front of him without giving him time to think.

He moved again. This time, he pushed his way through dense bushes. He deliberately broke a low branch with his hand in a rough motion.

Crack.

The sound of dry wood snapping rang especially loud in the quiet forest. The branch, exposing its pale interior, clearly indicated the path he had taken.

Rian stopped for a moment and listened. He focused all his senses behind him.

Footsteps came from afar, but they were gradually drawing closer. The sound of someone pushing through branches and stepping on dry leaves could be heard at regular intervals. Eric was following him. Faster than expected.

Rian’s steps quickened again. Yet they were still soundless.

A small stream appeared before him. It was not especially wide, but the current was fairly swift.

Without hesitation, he stepped into the cold stream. The chill rising to his ankles soaked his leather military boots in an instant, but he paid it no mind.

He walked downstream along the current for a dozen meters. The flowing water would erase his tracks without leaving a single trace. The pursuer would hesitate here for a moment.

But Rian did not leave the water. Still submerged in it, he turned and looked upstream.

‘I have to make him think the trail was cut off.’

He went back up against the current. A little above the point where he had first crossed the stream, he climbed quietly like a waterbird onto a large rock jutting out by the bank.

From the rock, he leapt soundlessly into the forest on the opposite side.

Softly.

He landed on dry fallen leaves, but almost no sound came. It was a perfect landing. No sound, and no trace.

He hid himself in the deepest shadows of the forest. Now he was no longer a fugitive, but an observer. A spider waiting for prey to be caught in his trap.

His eyes gleamed coldly, like sheets of ice.

A moment later, red-haired Eric appeared at the entrance of the forest. Irritation and anger were mixed on his face. As though he was not yet used to the forest’s darkness, he frowned and looked around.

Soon, Eric discovered the footprint Rian had left on the moss.

A contemptuous smile rose on his lips.

***

Eric slowly crushed the clear military boot print left on the moss beneath his own boot. The sensation of damp moss being ground down carried through the sole of his foot.

‘Does he think he can escape this way, that rat bastard?’

He raised his head and swept his gaze over the forest’s interior. It was the direction the greenhorn conscript bastard would likely have gone.

Before long, his gaze stopped on a broken branch. Its pale exposed interior stood out especially clearly in the dark forest.

“Crude work.”

Eric muttered in a low voice and strode that way. Following tracks was as natural to him as breathing. The title of master archer of the empire was not something one could obtain through archery skill alone.

He advanced without hesitation along the trail. He pushed through bushes and leapt over fallen trees.

A stream appeared before him as well. Eric stopped in front of the last footprint left on the bank. The deep mark carved into the soil seemed to show that the fugitive had hurriedly jumped into the water.

He stared at the trail that vanished into the water and sank into thought for a moment.

‘Did he run along the water?’

His gaze naturally swept downstream. If the bastard rode the current downward, shaking off pursuit would be easier. It was the most common and most predictable method.

A mocking expression brushed across Eric’s face.

‘Too obvious.’

With this sort of escape route, he could not get away from him. The bastard must know that too.

His gaze carefully examined not the downstream direction, but the dense forest across the stream. The trees there grew even thicker, and despite it being midday, the inside was dim.

‘A trap? Or just his final desperate struggle?’

Eric hesitated for a moment. There was a possibility the bastard was luring him in. But would a mere conscript have the guts to set a trap against a Senior Archer of the empire? As though he had made his decision, he twisted up the corner of his mouth.

“Interesting. Fine, I will play along with your tune.”

He deliberately pretended to walk a few steps downstream. As though he had fallen completely for the bastard’s intent.

Then he suddenly changed direction, kicked off the ground, and leapt across the stream in one motion. With a light landing, he stepped into the forest on the other side.

But something was strange.

The trail continued too easily. As though it were guiding the way. Broken twigs, overturned stones. They were tracks so artificial that anyone familiar with pursuit would have been able to find them.

As he pushed through the forest, he suddenly stopped walking.

The surroundings were too quiet. Not a single birdcall or insect cry could be heard. It was an unnatural silence, as though every living creature in the forest were holding its breath.

‘This isn’t a simple escape. It’s an obvious lure.’

Eric recalled the contents of the report that had been delivered to him. The unidentified ghost who had been sniping imperial army officers and messengers at Gallows Heights. It was an analysis of that ghost’s behavioral patterns.

‘Once he chooses a target, he always cuts off their breath. He is skilled at using terrain, and he is extremely cunning and bold.’

“The Ghost of Gallows Heights...... as cunning as the report said.”

The anger boiling in his eyes cooled sharply. In its place rose the chill interest of a predator facing its prey.

‘Where is he trying to drag me?’

He examined the surroundings again. The terrain was becoming increasingly rugged. The gentle hill had at some point turned into the terrain of a steep valley. The trees grew even denser and obstructed his vision, and sharp rocks jutted up underfoot. It was the worst possible terrain for using a bow.

‘Good. I’ll see for myself where the grave you dug with your own hands lies.’

Eric tightened his grip on the strong bow. More carefully, but without stopping, he advanced. From now on, this was no simple chase. It was a high-level battle of wits where they had to read each other’s moves and grasp the other’s intent.

***

Hidden like a shadow behind a tree, Rian confirmed without missing a single detail that Eric was moving according to his intent. The bastard had noticed it was a trap, but his arrogance had not allowed his footsteps to stop.

Rian turned soundlessly and headed deeper into the forest.

From here on, he would leave no traces.

He avoided the thick piles of fallen leaves. It was to keep them from rustling. Instead, he chose to step on firm ground or moss-covered rocks. His movements were as quiet and stealthy as a wildcat’s. He seemed almost weightless.

The forest grew deeper and deeper. Huge trees stood densely packed together and completely covered the sky. It was dim in every direction, and the damp, cool air brushed his skin.

Rian’s final destination, a valley terrain where visibility was extremely limited, was drawing closer.

He looked back one last time. Nothing could be seen in his field of vision, but Elias’s senses told him clearly.

Eric’s presence was steadily following, maintaining a constant distance.

Rian slid down into the darkest, deepest part below the valley.

There, enormous rocks and the thick roots of trees that seemed hundreds of years old were tangled together, creating natural cover. He pushed himself into the gap. It was a perfect ambush point.

He quietly pulled out one arrow from his waist and set it to the string.

Slide.

Not even the sound of drawing the string could be heard. It was as natural and smooth as a motion repeated for decades.

Rian held his breath. His heart, which had been beating quickly, slowed and quieted as though it had been a lie. He set every nerve in his body on edge and focused everything on hearing and sight.

He was now part of the forest. A rock, and a tree’s shadow. Not a living creature, but merely part of the landscape.

His gaze was fixed on the narrow entrance of the valley where Eric would appear.