The camp's atmosphere was the complete opposite to the first time Galahad snuck through. All the campfires and lights were out, and no one was making any noise. No one was even around for him to hide from or take down either.
The only trace of his first time through was the blood stumped heads and bodies of the first two guards. He stayed low and crept between the tents a lot slower than before, he wasn't hiding in plain sight this time. Galahad was keeping to the shadows the best way Trista had taught him to, back when they had some time to kill in the dungeons.
'let's see, it was "no sudden movements," and " don't hold your breath." Oh! How can I forget "walk gently heel to toe." Oh gods, I hear her yelling at me again, why am I trying to save her?' Galahad was joking to himself and immediately cursed his entire being for even thinking of such jests.
It was Trista who saved him from the dark and twisted cavern; she gave up her Karmic plate to let him resurface, damning herself to the deep parts of the dungeon. Galahad had no idea what she was thinking when activating the Return spell on him instead, but he knew that he won't ever waste the chance she took to let him live. He couldn't afford to delay their rescue, no mistakes and jokes allowed at his friends expense.
Once Galahad was a few feet away the cinder-filled frame of the tent, he gave up on the stealth and just ran straight for the barrel of orbs. So far he only managed to snag the handful of orbs from fleeing, and they were still jammed in his jacket's inner pocket. He felt his body almost craving whatever he could gain from the prize in front of him. At the very least, there was ten levels just sitting in front of him.
Galahad quietly jogged around the table and fallen chandelier to see the long list of mana orbs pop back up in his vision once more. He grew excited as the air seemed to buzz around him, although that might have been the smell of burnt ozone from Dante.
Galahad was only ten yards away before the barrel exploded from the inside.
A small pouch of fire puffer dust was stuffed inside with mana orb barrel creating a delay explosion of reactions. The orbs inside immediately reacting to it like a gas cloud to a spark. The barrel exploded into a wreck of flaming splinters that pierced Galahad as he flew backwards.
'Damn it! I shouldn't have let them figure out I wanted the orbs.' Galahad cursed himself as he rag dolled across the dry dirt floor of the tent. Had he not been so focused on getting the orbs, he would have realized the bandit camp created a trap for his arrival.
As he stood up and blinked the spots out of his eyes, Galahad watched the barrel burn with the wind throwing all the remaining blue smoke into various directions. None of the orbs surviving for long, he watched the list shrink down to nothing. His chance to had literally gone up in smoke.
Dante stepped quietly into the pavilion's borders, Galahad turned himself around and was staring coldly at the bear-like man before him.
"What the hell? You chose to burn all your belongings instead of letting someone take them, how petty can you be?" Galahad asked irritably, he stopped smirking for the first time that night. He was truly angered by the outcome before him. His chances to go sooner into the dungeon and rescue everyone was now little a lot farther away than before.
The pain of the wood splinters across Galahad's body seemed to wash away as the red flames grew across Galahad's body. He didn't want to preemptively use up the all Chi in his body, especially after using a few minutes, but he needed the strategic thinking powers that came with the skill.
Yet nothing came to his mind when he looked at Dante.
Galahad wasn't so sure the thinking part of Fury and Fyre was working, all of Dante's body was grayed out now. The first fight consisted of weaknesses being highlighted clearly inside his joints, major arteries, and his backside, now it all disappeared with nothing emphasized. The giant man before him was just one singular shade.
It wasn't until that moment that Galahad finally realized Dante's eyes had a strange glow in the pupils. A faint grey spilled out of the circles that were supposed to be black, giving the man's brown eyes a rather ethereal look.
Dante only charged forward without uttering a word or changing his facial expressions. He only brought down his weapon in a vertical swing, in a form completely different than before. He exaggerated the swing in his shoulder far too much, letting Galahad read his motions and easily sidestep. His movements were rigid and almost amateur compared to before, making Galahad's job to dodge much easier.
'What's wrong with this guy, fifteen minutes ago he was capable of swinging that better than a berserker. Now he is swinging it as bad as I would.' Galahad pivoted away from a terrible stab at his chest by slamming the flat of his sword down on the claymore's blade.
Galahad appeared to have an advantage against this new Dante, but the problem that remained was taking down a still stronger man with a magic weapon in his hand. The playing field had barely changed from before, only the main difference this time was there wasn't a crowd. No one had stepped or cheered for the fight to end.
'Damn it, is that grey light in his eyes some kind of special skill? Fuck him if it is. Well at least I still know where I should hit.' Galahad ducked beneath a rather sloppy swing and ran the edge of his blade quickly across the inside Dante's forearm while retreating one step back.
Galahad wanted to be cheer about getting a decent attack in, until Dante's other hand let go of the hilt and slammed his elbow into Galahad's ribs. Just like when the lightning launched him at the table, this force was no different in strength. He hit the table at an angle and his body skidded across the surface, taken out some plates of cold food and a few mugs of ale.
His sword clattered loudly against the packed dirt as he flew over the table, leaving him defenseless and only gaining some broken ribs in return. All weapon in the pavilion were now on the other side of the table, including the fallen sword.
Behind the table, Galahad was no longer visible to Dante, but his moans of discomfort confirmed he wasn't moving anytime soon. Dante clumsily turned and walked towards the table with the Claymore pointed at the spot, the point was leaning away as one of his arms dangled loosely at the elbow. Blood was immediately starting to clot and spilled from the wound and hitting the floor with audible drip and wet smack.
Despite the clear amount of damage done; He had yet to say a word since the battle started. Dante didn't even react to the cut or grimace in anyway, was like he was an emotionless doll.
The hilt started flashing its blue gem again, allowing Dante the ability to fire the lightning bolt once more. He brought the heavy weapon back with one had to wind up the magic shot, until Galahad jumped straight up into his face.
Galahad had jumped out from underneath the table, merely pretending his ribs were broken. He felt only fractures across his side that could easily be healed with the few mana orbs he still had, once the fight was over.
He dealt with the pain for the time being and flung himself out while swinging two different objects at Dante with each hand. A half empty mug of ale was splashed across Dante's face, the alcohol blinding his eyes and causing his lightning shot to aimlessly go up into the air. The other object pierced through the bear hide he wore and went right into the spacing between his sternum and heart.
Galahad had stabbed Dante with one of the tableware knives, one of the many items that hit the floor with his crashing landing. Had the muscles in Dante's forearm not been severed, he might have been quick enough to put his free hand in the way.
Too bad fate decided to end his life that night.
*****
Arma had been climbing to the top of the hill next to the camp so he could have Croten search for Galahad. He was nearly halfway up the steep incline before he witnessed Dante's magic lightning fly out of the camp and into the air.
He knew something was happening involving Galahad, so Dante might need him and Croten's help.
Rather than running back down the hill, the boy only put his hand up into the darkness of the night. Something in the pitch black grabbed him and hoisted his body into the air, bringing the boy straight back to the camp with almost complete silence.
*****
Galahad's lunge brought both himself and Dante to the ground. Only He could stand back up after the fight since the knife wasn't his chest. Dante simply laid still and the grey light began to fade from his eyes.
Galahad leaned against the table and felt the adrenaline leaving his body and deactivated Fury and Fyre. The discomfort of being elbowed hard and stabbed by countless little splinters was growing as the red flames dispersed and the orange cracks resealed themselves. Any second longer would undoubtedly be the start of his three minute timer.
'Wait no, the timer extended by two seconds so maybe next time it will . But the other points .' He was sure the +3 all attributes should taken affect, but it didn't. When he evolved to level nine, he didn't feel a big change like before.
Galahad pulled up is stats and brought his palm to his forehead. He knew something was different now he knew why.
-----------------------------
[ Galahad Mystroff ] lvl. 9
Battle Class: Spartan
965/1085 HP
Title: Lone Survivor (1/1)
Attack: 28
Defense: 28
Agility: 28
[ Points Available: +3 ]
-----------------------------
[ Points Available: +3 ] flashed across the bottom now, something he hadn't seen or checked for after he took down the bandits and buried them in rubble.
'Damn it, I should have checked everything before coming here. That's why I didn't feel my body improve after level nine. I guess choosing a class decreased the amount of points I get too. I can only hope it doesn't hit an steeper progress curve in the future.'
Galahad put everything into attack so it was raised to thirty-one before attempting to stand back up. Once he was up, He heard rapid little footsteps coming towards the tent. Arma came sprinted straight into the pavilion wearing the same false farmer boy clothes from earlier that day. He didn't stop running until he saw Dante dead on the ground, Arma fell to his knees with tears ready to burst from his eyes.
Arma silently stared in horror as Dante was silently laying with no focus to his eyes that simply stared up into the night sky. He couldn't believe that the man he admired all his life was defeated right in front of him. To him, Dante was an invincible warrior that would one day train him to be a great fighter that worked beside him as an equal. It was all he wanted when the Fang of Nyt took him in as a child. Now it had all been snuffed out in that moment.
They may have been the childish dreams of young boy, but they existed nonetheless. He felt every one of those dreams die when the leader of the Fangs of Nyt hit the floor. Something broke in Arma, and he was going to unleash it on the only other man in room.
The boy screamed and something bizarre happened in front of Galahad.
The loud screech became almost jarring in intensity, then his mouth was releasing a green mist that shared the same ghastly properties as the mana orb smoke. The green moved unnaturally against the wind and formed a perfect circle no bigger than Galahad's torso. The smoke completed the circle when it transitions from translucent to a density too thick to see through.
Galahad took a step back before a gust of wind shot out of the circle and emerged an enormous Black bird that was even larger than Solteer the king ever had been. It took him a moment before Galahad realized he was staring at a giant black crow. Then the boy's perfectly timed appearance on the road to Bluewalk made sense.
The boy was a Summoner class who just unleashed Croten the Crow King.