CHAPTER 29: The Path Eastward - Part 1

  Ryse walked along a forest trail, his left hand carrying a bundle of cloth. The only way to reach the east in time was to trust Marfas. Sherry's shortcut would let him chase Ordofel's funeral procession without encountering guard posts.

  The autumn leaves in this forest are so red that they disturb his sight, even though due to Prana, he does not experience an afterimage. Thorny bushes snagged his jacket and trousers. He hastened, aiming to arrive before sunset. Yet, there was something he had to settle first.

  Since entering the forest, Ryse knew he was followed. The footsteps of his pursuer were louder than his, who was not even trying to hide. The path led to a stream in a small ravine. He set down his bundle, drank from the stream, and scanned the area. A good spot, the enemy could not escape here.

  “Don't get offended,” he said, “but I really can't tell you guys apart. Are you Igmar or his lookalike?”

  “Igmar.” One of the Wingard brothers emerged from behind a large tree. His body language exuded hostility. Without a word, he materialized Prana Armor. A pale blue aura wrapped around his legs up to the knees.

  “From now on, I can't mess up or I'll be late. What I'm going to do to you is not personal.” Ryse materialized Stormridge. In the next blink, Igmar's spinning kick was handbreadth from his face.

  He dodged using Somatic Drive, drew his whip, and retaliated. The agility of his enemy made the swirling strikes of Tempest shatter branches and scatter dried leaves on the ground.

  Igmar attacked from the side, first with a kick towards face which forced him to step back, and then with a leg sweep. The second strike hit, bending Ryse’s knees and halting his movement.

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  Igmar continued with a knee strike to the temple. But his whip coiled around Igmar's supporting leg, hurling him into a tree. Igmar's back struck hard, and he fell to a sitting position.

  Before the enemy could rise, Ryse lashed his whip from the center of the clearing. The tip only exploded a tree trunk as Igmar had already dodged to the side. The enemy then glided among the trees, aiming for a flank attack.

  Tempest glistened as it snaked between trees, seeking its target. Tree bark peeled and splintered, brushed by golden scales. Then, Igmar vanished among the trees.

  Reappearing, Igmar descended from a tree. His right leg raised, ready to deliver a heel drop. Blue-white Prana blazed on his leg, indicating that he exerted his full power for this attack.

  But that was his mistake. Ryse fired two intertwining Gale Bolts. Igmar could not dodge in mid-air and used his heel drop to shatter it – another mistake.

  Instead of breaking, the Gale Bolts scattered, wrapping Igmar in a whirlwind. The Gale Shroud suspended him in mid-air. Without place to stand on, he could only squirm and wriggle, like a baby trying to escape its mother's embrace.

  Tempest coiled around one of Igmar's legs, then with a wide swing, Ryse slammed him to the ground. Igmar lost consciousness at once, his Prana Armor disappearing. Ryse deactivated Stormridge and stored his whip.

  “If you want, I can handle him before he leaves.” Someone emerged from the trees, brushing back her hair. Sherry.

  “Thanks, but I don't want to bother you anymore. How about Ignaz?”

  “Asleep. Snoring. He was cautious to get his own water, but didn't realize I coated the rim of his container with a henbane brew,” Sherry said, fastening a restraining bracelet on Igmar. “I'll keep them at the hideout until I hear from you. Right?”

  “Yes. Thanks. If you don't hear from me in three days, just set them free. But if I get caught, please do as I've said.” Ryse picked up the cloth bundle. “I owe you one. If you ever need help–”

  “No need.” Sherry slung Igmar's body over her shoulder and neck, then disappeared among the trees.

  Ryse scratched his hair. He should have been better at treating someone who had saved his life and helped him more than once. But right now, he was pressed for time. He would visit Sherry later, once everything was settled.

  Before the sun set, he caught up with the funeral procession. He observed them preparing the camp from the tree line. A pair of Mana Decimae maintained cooling spells beside Ordofel's coffin without resting. The pennons at the campsite indicated Isfan and his siblings were present.

  The royal procession was followed by a throng of citizens coming to pay their last respects. They too were busy setting up camp, and it was through them that he planned to infiltrate.