ROTLE- Chapter 180- Revenge

Sitting down on the high boulder where he and the others had stopped to check on what was further ahead, Aiden took one final glance at the dimensional mana crystal he had gotten from the [Life Eater].

How did it use it to cancel Estabel’s teleportation, he thought, slipping the dark crystal back into his storage space.

He cast his glance into the distance once more, frowning. And why do you people keep moving farther away?

At this point, Ted and the others were no longer heading towards the direction that Oncot had thrown Aiden in. Their movement the past few days was reminiscent of people who had a purpose. Aiden hoped they did not intend on finding Nosrath themselves.

It was funny that he could actually picture Ted talking about how he would continue the mission and go for Nosrath, so if they found Nosrath they would find him.

The thought made him smile for a moment.

“Anything?!” Tanor called out from ground level, drawing Aiden’s attention to him.

Aiden looked back down, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

He began his climb down. A part of him knew that he could simply drop from the height and survive, but he wanted the climb. Ever since killing Clerent they had run into a few other monsters. Aiden had killed a few, gaining four levels, now putting him at level one hundred and four.

Yesterday, during their night watch, they had been ambushed by monsters. Saving the [Enchanter] Yerit had forced Aiden’s [Unarmed Combat] mastery to ninety-nine point nine, nine percent. He ignored the wind of his still active [Pathfinder(U)] as he climbed down the rough boulder.

Getting to the bottom, he cast a glance at his current team. Tanor had been given him wary looks for days now, but he had never shown any signs of fear. He didn’t trust Aiden, but he didn’t think Aiden was going to turn around and stab him in the back. At least Aiden liked to think so.

Estabel showed new found respect for Aiden. Aiden wasn’t sure if it was because she had a dislike for the [Saint] or if it was because she didn’t think she would’ve been able to kill Clerent in a one on one situation. On Nastild, the fear of and veneration of [Saint]s was because of the mystery of their title and not necessarily because of some level of strength that they possessed. Yes, the [Saint]s were strong in their own ways, but they were not all powerful.

Mostly, the fear of going against a [Saint] came from the fear of what the church would do to you, not what the [Saint] was capable of, at least for those who were actually strong enough to face one of them. Simply put, a [Saint] was as strong as any one of their level, their advantage being in whatever divinity skill they were granted by right of their sainthood.

Somewhere in history, however, people had simply begun to see [Saint]s as enigmatically powerful. Then they had come to fear standing against them in combat for fear of defeat.

“So nothing at all?” Estabel asked.

Aiden nodded. “There’s just fog, and my perception wasn’t high enough to see anything.”

“And you still think we should keep moving forward?”

“We certainly can’t keep going back.”

Estabel frowned, her expression taking on something of discomfort. “I don’t like that my tracking orb can’t identify what is ahead of us.”

Aiden didn’t like it either, but the skill she used to scout ahead was not perfect. It didn’t always tell the caster what exactly was ahead. It was not a glitch, just a downside. The spell did not identify everything perfectly.

“Should I try and scry it?” Yerit asked, stepping forward.

“It won’t work,” Aiden said, Estabel shaking her head at the same time.

Yerit looked to both of them, confused.

Estabel was the one to give her the answer. “We’ve been going deeper into the forest, and for a while now the mana has been getting denser.” She gestured around. “The demonic mana is too thick here, scrying enchantments won’t work.”

“At least not at your level,” Aiden added, without really thinking about it. “We’ll have to brace it and hope for the best.”

Tanor shrugged. “I’m all in favor of hoping for the best.”

Aiden looked at Tanor. The Tanor he knew would not have said that. In fact, he was always in favor of knowing before moving, but not to the point of annoyance.

He’s different, Aiden thought, not for the first time since seeing Tanor. It was not a bad thing, just a different thing. It was also a reminder.

In the Order, Zen had been called talented, picking up things fast. The Zen that he traveled with picked things up slowly. The Tanor that he knew gathered information and moved accordingly. This Tanor was more than happy to hope for the best.

They are young.

It was the answer. Aiden was not supposed to meet them for another five years. He did not know the young versions of his teammates, and a lot could happen to a person in five years. People could change.

“You good?” Estabel asked him.

Aiden nodded. “Yes, just thinking about something.” He turned away from them, casting his gaze to the path they were supposed to follow. “We move forward. But we’ll be careful. The last thing we want is to get picked off one by one. I can’t afford to die now.”

“I don’t think there is ever a time where a person can afford to die,” Tanor pointed out.

Yerit inched a little closer to Estabel. If Estabel noticed it, she didn’t show any sign of it.

“Our formation?” Estabel asked, instead.

“The same.” Aiden checked the hem of his coat. It had been a few days and it still hadn’t completely repaired itself from his fight with Clerent. “Estabel, you’ll play ranged support, specifically healing and escapism. Tanor, you’ll play damage dealer. Yerit…”

“Disabler and buff support,” Yerit opined, knowing her role.

Estabel folded her arms. “And you are the wild card.”

“Skirmisher,” Aiden corrected. It was what they called it in the Order. Although that was not his role in his team when he was in the order.

It was the skirmisher’s job to be unpredictable. If the enemy could not find pattern in their teamwork, it was difficult for them to destabilize it.

They resumed their sojourning deeper into the forest, through the trees and rising mist from the ground that Estabel attributed to the mana density. Aiden stayed in front of the group as they moved. He tracked the mana orb that Estabel had fired forward.

Why am I being the scout? He asked himself, his perception spread far and wide.

“So we won’t talk about what happened?” Estabel asked.

Aiden looked at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the back of the group?”

“The center, actually,” she corrected. “But I’m a [Mage]—a big girl—I can take care of myself.”

She raised her staff as if for emphasis. Aiden saw the slight strain on her face from the mana weight of the staff and wondered if he would be able to pick it up. From what he knew, the staffs were meant to be lighter for the [Mage]s they belonged to than any other person, it did not mean that they were impossible to pick up, though.

“So, about what happened?”

“When?” Aiden asked, being intentionally dense.

“Saint killer,” she said simply.

Aiden’s senses picked up Tanor stiffening slightly at the back of the group. If he remembered correctly, [King Killer] was the title someone gained for killing multiple kings. The number was more than two but was not specific. The same rule applied to the title of [Saint Killer].

He hadn’t really known of [Devil’s Advocate] but it wasn’t like he remembered every minute detail from his past life.

“I’m not a saint killer,” he objected. “I killed a man trying to kill me.”

“True, but did Bandiv not teach you that the [Saint]s are considered sacred on Nastild?” she asked.

“They taught me a lot of things.”

“Including how taking another human life is punishable by death?”

Aiden spared her a glance. “Do you have something specific that you want to ask?”

“Yes. Did you gain a title for it?”

Aiden said nothing, making his glance a little more pointed.

“Killing a person doesn’t give you a title,” Estabel said, explaining. “Killing a person with a title could.”

“Are you saying that you don’t know if I’m supposed to get a title or not?”

“I am.”

Aiden pushed aside a stray branch as the world darkened more with the descent of night. His perception was beginning to strain, which wasn’t supposed to happen in normal situations. The mana density, however, was having its own effects.

“So what title did you get?” she asked.

Aiden sighed. “Why would I get a title for killing one person?”

“Duh. Because it’s a [Saint]. For example, I refuse to believe that killing the [Hierophant]—that’s the head of the church—will not give you a title.”

Aiden paused to look at her. Duh? Did she just say ‘duh’?

Just how casual was she beginning to treat him that she would regress to a friendly conversation befitting of the word?

Estabel blinked. “What?”

“Talking about killing the [Hierophant] is not a normal conversation,” Tanor answered for her from behind, proving that he was listening to their conversation.

“For children like you, of course not,” she answered him.

“Not for children like me. It’s not normal because it is blasphemous. Heretical.”

“The word you are looking for is sacrilegious,” Aiden corrected. “Blasphemous is against the gods. Heretical is against the religion. Sacrilege is toward the sanctimonious or sanctified. In this case, the leader of the church.”

Tanor paused. “Yeah. What he said.”

Estabel ignored Tanor, returning her attention to Aiden. “That’s the point I’m making. There is only one of the [Hierophant] and a limited number of [Saint]s as against normal people and monarchs. I wouldn’t be surprised if killing one gives a title.”

She gave him a very innocent but enthusiastic smile. Aiden grimaced at it. There was just something about the [Mage] trying to be a woman with him that rubbed him the wrong way. Wanting nothing more than for it to end, he told her.

“I got something called the [Devil’s Advocate].”

She beamed with satisfaction. “Can I see.”

“There are unidentified enemies somewhere ahead of us,” Tanor said immediately. “This is not the time to be letting our guard down.”

Yerit was stuck silent in the group, having nothing to add to the conversation. She seemed a little too timid and completely out of her element. Aiden could not blame her, remembering how she had said she’d applied for a position in the Mage Radiants that was supposed to keep her away from combat situations.

“Can I see?” Estabel repeated, ignoring Tanor.

Aiden’s answer was simple. “No.”

“Just the title and its effects,” she pressed. “I promise not to look at anything else or ask for anything else.”

“No.”

Aiden’s perception picked something up. A combat situation. He could hear groaning and fighting.

“Lord Lac—”

He raised a hand, silencing Estabel.

“Someone’s fighting up ahead,” he said in a low voice.

Estabel paused, turning her ear to the path ahead. “I don’t hear anything,” she replied in a whisper.

Aiden unclipped one of his soldier pockets and let a blank or fall in his hand. Estabel gave it a confused expression. Ignoring her, Aiden placed a finger on it, only to pause. Thinking better of it, he handed the item over to Yerit.

Yerit hurried forward to take it, then she waited for what she was supposed to do with it.

“Do you know how to engrave a shrapnel effect?” he asked her.

Yerit paused. “Yes, but I don’t have any shrapnel to work with?”

“The orb is all the shrapnel you need.”

Yerit gave him a blank look. She was lost.

Aiden could simply inscribe the engravement he wanted with [Unarmed Engrave] but he was not ready to have them know more things about him.

“Use a gas enchantment,” he said, “then a wind enchantment. Use a force enchantment, linked with a linking rune to compress them. Then an ignition enchantment. That way you create an internal explosion that sends shards of the orb itself flying.”

Yerit paused. “Oh.”

Aiden could see it on her face that she understood the principle but something wasn’t cliquing. Was it her level?

“Are you past level one hundred?” he asked her.

Her face wrinkled as if she had been insulted.

“Yerit here is a level seventy-three [Enchanter],” Estabel offered. “Unless she has leveled up since being on her own and I am not aware of it.”

With a frown on her face, Yerit was already doing as instructed.

“Here,” she said, handing the orb back to him.

Aiden took it, studied it. She had engraved the enchantments just right, a proper compound enchantment with no flaws.

“This is actually quite good,” he told her. “Not yet at level one hundred and your compound enchantments are this clean. I’m impressed.”

Yerit blushed lightly, looking away. It seemed the compliment made her shy.

Aiden held up the orb to Estabel, the [Enchanter] in him wishing to show off how good the work of a young [Enchanter] was, how impressive it was. All he got from her was a confused expression.

“You continue to be a conundrum, Lord Lacheart,” she said.

Aiden paused, then shrugged. People weren’t as impressed by clean enchantments as [Enchanter]s were. Especially when it was more about the beauty in simplicity.

“I’m not much of a conundrum,” he said, making sure their voices remained low.

“I looked into you,” Estabel explained, her tone letting him know that she disagreed with him. “You’ve got a domestic class. You have an arm that changes color and can destroy a mage staff. And you know a lot about monsters unheard of, and then there’s your knowledge of enchantments. Bandiv is good but they aren’t that good.”

“I would beg to differ.” Aiden looked back at the others. “Get ready. Once I throw this, we’re going in.”

“Just how far do you plan on throwi—”

Aiden channeled mana into the orb, activating the device, and chucked it. It shot straight through the trees like a fired bullet interrupting Tanor.

When it struck their target, the impact was loud. Then came the boom.

“Now!” Aiden called, darting forward.

There was a reason he always played the position of skirmisher in teams since regressing. It was because most of the people he worked with were not experienced enough or skilled enough to work with a member of the Order. Being a skirmisher gave him free reign, allowing him to do whatever he wanted or adjust to best fit the team he was working with.

The trees blurred around him as [Dash] carried him through the distance. Estabel was right beside him. She was using a levitation spell and a speed spell that had her flying just as quickly as he could move. Tanor ran, armor seeming not to weigh him down. Only Yerit had a difficult time keeping up.

Aiden could hear it now. Everything was clearer, the fighting, the voices. They were coming up on people. He couldn’t hear any monster sounds.

Humans fighting, he concluded.

He found himself hoping. If a team had already taken care of Nosrath and had been ambushed by another team, it would make this entire thing easier for him. He could steal the heart and—

Chaos flared in his environment. Something zipped straight for him from within the trees. Aiden turned, ducked into a roll. When he came up to his feet, it was preceded by the booming of impact. He turned only for a moment to find that one of the trees had a crater in them that was still letting out smoke.

A powerful strike. He frowned. But from where?

“AIDEN LACHEART!” a voice roared just before someone pommeled straight into him. They tackled him, sending him and the person cascading through the forest.

Aiden’s back struck something hard, sending him off-kilter. Arms locked around him, trying to hold him down as he and his assailant continued to bounce through the forest. Somehow they didn’t seem to be coming to a stop.

A fist struck him in the nose with enough force to draw blood. Aiden gritted his teeth, closed his heart to the pain. Another blow landed against his stomach but his coat dulled the impact. They bounced again, and again, and again. Each bounce was followed by another strike.

It was a moment before Aiden maneuvered his assailant. Grabbing them by the back of their neck, he folded himself into the space between them and pushed with his legs.

It sufficed to break their lock, sending them flying apart.

Aiden hit the ground, rolled, and came to a stop. It seemed his assailant had used a skill that kept them tumbling considering how long they’d been tumbling for only to come to a halt when he separated them.

“AIDEN LACHEART!” the person roared.

Aiden took notice of the voice now. it belonged to a woman, and a woman stood before him. She was heaving, her body covered in beautiful dark skin. She had hair like black wool that was braided and came down just below her shoulders.

“I have come to take my revenge,” she growled, pulling a bow out of nowhere. “You took everything from me.”

Aiden paused, brows furrowed.

“Revenge?” he asked, with all the confusion he felt. “I don’t even know you?”