Chapter 69 Cormac Ambushed
"You won't get away from us!" the first person declared arrogantly, his tone full of confidence.
The additional men closed in on Cormac, their numbers growing as they continued the chase.
Despite their efforts, Cormac's pace remained steady, and he slowly began to lose sight of them, the dense forest and darkness obscuring his trail.
'I don't have time for this. I may not fully understand what they want with this artifact, but it definitely can't be left with these savages,' Cormac thought, pushing himself to run faster.
The pursuers' shouts faded as he continued, eventually disappearing from their view.
'I need to report this to the guild, but it's a fair distance from here. To think they would openly confront me near the capital. Lord was right about there being a bad apple in the royal council,' Cormac pondered as he moved through the forest.
Suddenly, a tall, rough-looking man with fiery eyes stepped into his path, blocking his way. He wielded two sabers, his bare torso covered with numerous scars.
The man's rugged appearance and the way he carried himself made it clear that he was no ordinary opponent.
"Oi, this is as far as you'll go, mate. Hand it over, and I'll grant you a painless death," the man growled, his voice gruff and threatening.
Cormac made a quick attempt to run past him, but the man stood his ground, unwavering. The air around them seemed to thicken with tension as the man activated his skill, [Great Wall].
A barely visible barrier materialized before Cormac, rising 100 meters high.
Cormac's senses tingled with a heightened awareness of the danger. The skill's presence and the man's imposing stance indicated that this was a formidable foe.
"So they even sent someone as strong as you to intercept me," Cormac sighed, glancing at the man. "This artifact must be really important to your organization."
"Beats me. I just do what I'm told," the fiery-looking man shrugged, trying to laugh off the situation.
"Well then, just another crimson hound I need to dispose of," Cormac said, leveling his spear at the man.
"Crimson Hound? What's that?" the man asked, his confusion evident.
Cormac, slightly surprised, lowered his spear. "You don't even know who you're working for?"
"No clue," the man admitted, clanging his sabers together with a confident grin. "But I was told I'd get to fight a strong opponents and have some fun while getting paid. Judging by your Aura, I can safely bet you're the strong foe I'm supposed to face."
"I see, you're just an idiot. I went full defensive for nothing," Cormac said with a sigh, turning as if to walk away.
Before he could take a step, the man's Aura flared, and a surge of energy sliced through the air, creating a massive hole right next to Cormac.
The force of the attack left a deep scar in the forest floor, sending debris flying.
"Where do you think you're going, huh? You're going to pay for that, boy!" the man bellowed.
"Boy?" Cormac paused, his gaze narrowing.
"I'll call you whatever I want to. Now face me like a man!" the man continued to yell, his voice echoing with challenge and anger.
Cormac turned back to face him, readying himself for the confrontation.
"I can sense you'll be a formidable enemy. Why would you align yourself with such a group when you could be a successful adventurer?" Cormac asked, his gaze shifting as he took in his surroundings. 'I need to buy more time for the skill to cancel out,' he thought.
"The thrill, of course," Rashmire replied, his eyes gleaming with excitement as he charged forward with a powerful swing. Cormac blocked the attack, their weapons clashing with a resounding clash.
The battle unfolded with intense exchanges. Rashmire swung his sabers with wild abandon, his movements fueled by exhilaration. He laughed and taunted with each attack, reveling in the challenge.
Cormac, on the other hand, remained composed and silent, his focus unwavering as he expertly blocked, dodged, and countered.
Their fight was a dance of power and precision. Rashmire's strikes were swift and aggressive, while Cormac's defense was methodical and calculated.
The two warriors moved with remarkable agility, each attack and parry echoing through the forest.
The fiery man's laughter punctuated the clash, while Cormac's silence spoke volumes of his concentration and resolve.
After a series of exchanges, they both stepped back, taking a moment to reassess.
The air was thick with tension as they analyzed each other's strengths and weaknesses.
'We're evenly matched. There's no doubt he's skilled,' Cormac thought, noting the man's prowess. 'But it seems like he's holding back: either stalling for reinforcements or simply enjoying this too much.'
'This kid must be a monster to keep up with me. This is exciting, but I need to end this soon,' Rashmire thought, a smile playing on his lips as he looked at Cormac.
"The name's Rashmire," Rashmire declared boastfully, his grin widening. "I must say, I'm impressed that you've lasted this long with me."
"And I need this information because…?" Cormac's tone was indifferent, clearly uninterested in Rashmire's boasts.
"You can call me Rash. Only those I deem worthy get to call me that," Rashmire said, his smile broadening with pride.
"Because you look like you name and they're not scared to say it?" Cormac retorted with a blank expression.
"Never mind," Rashmire snapped, clearly irritated.
"It seems you've never learned how to respect your elders. And what's with that look on your face, huh?" His annoyance was palpable. "I think it's time we ended this childish game."
With a sudden shift in demeanor, Rashmire activated [Warrior Blessing]. His Aura flared, its color intensifying and becoming more menacing. Cormac could feel the pressure of Rashmire's increased power.
'Intermediate Rank? How troublesome,' Cormac thought, noting the bright yellow color of Rashmire's Aura.
Cormac didn't hesitate. He faced Rashmire head-on, unleashing [Boost] to counter the surge in power. His own Aura flared in response, matching Rashmire's intensity.
Despite the boost, the two continued to clash evenly. However, Rashmire's serious demeanor and heightened skills began to turn the tide in his favor.
As Rashmire stacked additional skills for even greater power, he gained a clear advantage. Cormac found himself on the defensive, struggling to keep up with the relentless onslaught.
"Haha, is that all you've got?" Rashmire taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "Where's that nonchalant attitude you had just a moment ago, huh? Are you scared of me?" His laughter echoed as the fight dragged on.
"Tch, keep dreaming," Cormac muttered under his breath. 'His skills are no joke. I don't even see an opening to counter: he's just that fast.'
Rashmire launched a new attack, his sabers flashing as he executed [Sabre Art: Second Form - Twin Fang]. The cross strike, charged with his Aura, slashed through the air toward Cormac.
'A weapon technique? I might lose if I'm careless,' Cormac thought, barely dodging the attack. The force of the blow grazed him, damaging his disguise and causing blood to trickle down his cheek.
"You don't even look like you're past forty. How old are you anyway?" Rashmire asked, his curiosity tinged with arrogance.
"Forty? But you keep calling me kid," Cormac replied, trying to wipe the blood from his face.
"Because I'm ninety-three. Not bad for a level eighty-six warrior, right? Especially since we live for about two hundred years or so," Rashmire said with pride, his chest puffed out.
'Not even worth my Lord's time,' Cormac thought, pushing himself up despite the pain.
"I see, so you still have some fire in you, huh? Well, it's too late now." Rashmire pointed toward the direction Cormac had been running from.
Seven cloaked men were already heading that way.
"Sadly, this is the end for you," Rashmire sighed, his tone final.
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Damn his trapped now...