"The rendezvous point is on the other side of this forest. Lord Brutus will ensure you reach the place you need to go."
The carriage driver spoke steadily, but he wore a grave expression. His eyes never stopped shifting around the forest since their entry.
Roland felt a little more secure without a visible dragon flying above them, but his chest hurt each time he thought about his death knight.
The carriage wheeled slowly through the consistently thin road sliced through the forest. The tall trees were beginning to lean over their path, so there was no room for the previous speed of travel that had been executed beforehand. Their descent was less noisy, but unlike beforehand, at this pace, Roland sensed they were almost sitting ducks to an attack.
He still remembered the last time he ventured through this dried forestland. Twice it was. On both occasions, he was left with more dilemmas than expected.
'Wait, I can do that, can't I. Omega, switch to scout mode.'
His AI system complied, and suddenly, his vision turned greyscale. His world was filled with different particles forming cloudy colours. The Swallow and the carriage driver were filled with bright blue wispy particles. From the tips of the leafy stemmed branches, Roland saw green and blue particles drifting upwards. The forest bed was covered in bright yellow particles, with feint blue ones mixed in.
The more he indulged in the greyscale view, the more he caught onto a mythical ease, seamlessly drifting along the air; seeing the world from this view was tranquil and albeit a little disturbing at the same time. The carriage rolled on, and Roland combed his gaze across the forest.
Scattered around the area were animals of all different natures, doing their best to avoid them. Roland was growing glad that no one else was here from the looks of it. But the blindfolded girl beside him didn't share the same sentiments.
The Swallow had two short daggers laid flat against her lap. She ran her fingers slowly over the dagger's bite every so often.
Rolands's mouth opened slightly, poised to ask her something. Just then, Omega's voice filtered into his thoughts.
{Warning. Heat signatures detected 200 yards away}
Roland tossed his gaze forward and narrowed his brows. He could vaguely see four...no...five to seven blue smokey figures standing in a line between the hurdle of thin trees aligned in his way. Before he could even speak out. The short silver-haired girl was already rising to her feet with two daggers pressed against her dainty palms.
"Sigh, it looks like they beat us here. Welp, it's time for graduation, weak prince. Here, you might need this."
Roland expected the Swallow to hand him one of the two daggers in her hand. Instead, he was slightly taken aback once she pulled out a familiar glassed dagger from behind her. The telltale shimmer against the glassed metal was bewitching, as it had been the very first time he laid eyes upon it inside Wizard Grey's cave.
"Why are you just staring? This is yours, isn't it? We brought your stuff along with us; look just over there." Following the line of her finger, Roland saw the familiar beige sack slacked against the corner. That ivory mask flashed through his thoughts.
"Take it, I think it'll probably be useful."
Roland snapped out of his daydream before nervously taking hold of the dagger. The carriage wheeled to a slow crawl, and the eerie sounds of crackling ground layered beneath filled the dense silence.
"Shit, we've got trouble. You all should prepa-"
"Hyup!"
Before the carriage driver could finish his sentence, the Swallow vaulted over the front of the carriage and swiftly moved in front between the two horses.
She landed with the deftest movements like a cat, twisting over her shoulder. Roland felt her shielded gaze laser on him especially. Then her small lips parted aside, and her gentle voice flowed freely.
"Survival. That's all you need to worry about. I will clear the way ahead. I just need you to pick your opportunity well...all in all, it's been a pleasure...weak prince."
With that said, the little Swallow scurried off ahead towards the line of bodies waiting. Roland remained silent and stared in the empty way for a few moments. A soft wind walked through the crowded forest, and Roland felt the ends of his loose braids carrying forward. He twisted around on his heels; there was a feeling of something unseen pushing him. But nothing was there. Within that moment, a wave of clarity brushed through his mind. Roland wasn't sure why he remembered that one time, the day before his execution.
He caressed a similar feeling that night as well, where time seemed to stop, and nothing felt true. That night, he understood there was no turning back from his fate. The odd thing about that night was his defiance against his impending end. The term "end" didn't quite register with him, perhaps in his delusions or his own confidence in the unseen powers that be. Roland was assured he would live forever.
He creased a boyish smile and placed his palm between his chest.
"Be still my heart; we've been through much worse things before." He declared.
He dismounted from the carriage and, with measured steps, casually followed the trail left behind by the Swallow. Roland took a few steps forward when he was held in place by a voice arriving behind him.
"Hey, kid, many people are giving up their lives for you. I don't know you enough, but s'pose I better say this...you better be worth it."
Roland gave the carriage driver a slight nod and pressed his heels further ahead. The thin road was practically covered in mud and crunchy leaves slithering between the host of tall trees in his way.
'Omega, how long can I sustain Predator Mode for?'
{With the host's current abilities and vitality. Omega estimates Predator mode can be sustained for 25 minutes and 40 seconds}
Roland exhaled a cool breath and nodded.
He could hear noises drifting alongside the wind coming from ahead. Roland continued his measured walk until he eventually arrived at a crowd of tall shrubbery blocking his view. He parted the bush aside with his two hands and stepped through the gap. He stumbled out into an oval-shaped clearing, where the crunchy leaves were less here, and the ground was mostly flat.
But his gaze swiftly narrowed, and he noticed a few lifeless bodies twitching against the ground. The men wore the armour and carried the steel of the cloud family. Four of them remained, while three were engaged in what looked like a very deadly bout against a certain silver-haired girl wearing a blindfold. Roland was poised to react when he scanned across the assailants and caught sight of the fourth body, who stood atop a high branch overlooking the fight below.
The round face and cupid smile twisted horribly once they made eye contact.
And beneath his initial slight fear, Roland felt delighted that he was face to face with this dandy who stabbed him multiple times in the back before.
The young man parted his hands aside; he hopped away from the branch and freefell. Landing expertly on both his heels without breaking a stride.
"Well, well, if it isn't my favourite cripple. And here I was, afraid you somehow scurried past us like a little rat. Hahaha- what a lovely twist of fortune." The young man sang whilst advancing closer towards Roland with each passing breath.
Roland creaked his head from side to side and exhaled a pent-up breath. He creased a boyishly wide smile as he, too, started to advance forward.
"I might've felt a little annoyed if I left this shithole without carving your black heart out." He spoke creasing a wide grin.
"My-my such disgusting words from a bastard whose father was likely just as worthless as he was. Tis a shame your name won't save you today...Smoke? Aha, a reminder that you'll never be a cloud. Your ugly blood will never be a full breed."
"Arah! That's interesting, considering I never once cared for such stupid titles, nor this stupid place to begin with."
Roland shrugged his two shoulders unconcernedly.
"And I really couldn't give a damn about you shitty people as well. It sounds like your precious family is about to be wiped out anyway. Good luck with that" He chuckled loudly.
The young man's face turned dark.
"You dare to still talk like that? Aha, alright. No matter, I'll make sure my blade removes that tongue of yours first...now die!"
'Omega!'
{Affirmative...Predator Mode Activated}
Roland's neck jerked back as his eyes quickly shot open. Blood pumped aggressively through his veins like worms writhing beneath his skin. Roland felt a sudden jolt of euphoria surging through his body. He almost felt like he was flying. Such a feeling was incredibly blissful and freeing at the same time.
Once his head finally slumped down, the young man had closed in on him in seconds. Two curved daggers with golden hilts flashed forward in quick succession. Their destination was Rolands's mouth. A look of surprise briefly flashed against his face. Roland was surprised the psycho was true to his word and attempted to go for his mouth.
He took one step back and swayed low to one side by instinct. The second blade arrived expectedly, and Roland swayed back and shuffled his body to the other side like a boxer.
The young man's face looked noticeably shocked. But his blades continued to dance forward, each curved strike aimed at Roland's head. Roland returned his planted leg and intercepted the fast-bladed strike with the glassed dagger shooting at just the right angle.
The iron bit against the edge of the glass, and a *Ting* sound vibrated out. Roland felt the recoil threaten to derail his hand. The young man wasted no movements and attacked again with his free hand; Roland kicked off from the ground and evaded. But he barely escaped the dagger bit at his wrist bone and drew a line of blood. Roland saw this and stepped forward, attempting to slice the glassed blade across the young man's neck. He met the edge of one of the dual blades instead. Then, a firm boot stiffly across his abdomen.
The force snatched the wind from his lungs and dragged his heels painfully against the ground.
Thankfully, predator mode had turned off most of his pain receptors, so Roland recovered quick enough to evade the follow-up strikes. The young man continued his onslaught, with strikes that moved so quickly Roland barely caught the afterimage. Most of the bladed attacks either bit his skin or sliced his clothes.
Facing a skilled fighter at the core Iron rank was as challenging as he expected, unlike in his old world, where skill and experience mattered. Roland had already understood a glaring gap between a low-rank Iron body and someone at the core stage. Power was everything in this world.
But still, he didn't feel hopeless enough to give up. When he thought about Lord Soma's strength with his Gold Rank body, the difference between that overwhelming power and this was as glaring as night and day.
Not to mention his movements, his way of approaching a fight, and his breathing. Everything has been tailor-made by the finest teachers he had ever had. The Willow, The Swallow. And the years of experience from Zachary Jurren Lynch.