'Blasted Asterons!'
Alden immediately cursed, sensing the flame wielder's blade arc for his neck while the charming blonde's dagger sped toward his heart.
He immediately flung his pack.
His mind whirred, wondering which attack he should stop.
Logically, the most pressing would be the strike aimed at his heart. However, Alden knew that if he stopped that blow, he would be wide open for the flame wielder to decapitate his neck.
He made his decision within a split second.
Tugging at his core with all he had, Alden reinforced his whole hand with mana. He clutched at the incoming sword, taking a half-step to the side. That minuscule movement was enough for Charmy's dagger to graze his ribs but nothing else.
Fueled by the close call, Alden surrendered to the adrenaline rushing through his veins.
A tenebrous energy rose from his hand, decaying a portion of the sword.
Instantly, he saw the red-haired scout let go of the weapon and retreat.
'Smart.'
Alden clicked his tongue.
They were an experienced bunch.
'However, so am I.'
His gruelling lessons with Alistair over the years had allowed him not to panic in the face of such a deadly two-pronged attack. Moreover, the sparring helped build up his stamina and endurance, which would now prove crucial if he wished to remain alive.
That was not all.
Since he had not yet awakened at the time of their lessons, Alistair had forced him to focus on improving his technique.
Until, eventually, it became as easy as breathing and an extension of his will.
Alden would be forever grateful to the man.
Without his instruction, he would have died long ago in the wilderness.
After all, working as a porter was incredibly risky.
…Especially if you were among the mundane.
Nonetheless, now that he had supernatural power rivalling the Champions and a refined technique, Alden's proficiency began to shine. Unarmed and outnumbered, he made for a pitiful sight. However, beneath that facade, lay an adeptness for combat that could only be achieved after countless repetitions.
Immediately after dodging Charmy's blow by a hair's breadth, Alden swiftly struck.
He reinforced his punch with mana to offset the disadvantage of fighting without a weapon.
Unfortunately for him, the attractive blonde evaded the blow.
Alden wasn't discouraged, though.
With his flashy stunt against the flame wielder, the momentum of the battle had shifted in his favour.
He could tell they were afraid of his decay.
Even when Scar joined the fray, Alden noticed the scout leader kept his distance.
Charmy did the same, and slowly, the two scouts circled him, searching for any openings to exploit.
They were bound to be disappointed. Alden's stance was airtight.
He parried with his bare hands, shifted his weight at the last minute and even tanked any attacks he thought were not worth defending.
Shallow cuts appeared all over his body.
However, Alden's cold grin only widened.
Just then, after dealing with another round of consecutive attacks from the two scouts, Alden's senses blared as he stepped back.
A wave of scorching yet cool heat quickly engulfed him.
It was like an omen of disaster, foretelling the torturous suffering he was about to experience.
Alden gritted his teeth as he stared at the approaching fireball.
The ground beneath him trembled, and the surrounding air grew hot.
Even though he was a [Preserver of Flame], Alden knew that having resistance to something did not mean it wouldn't hurt.
At most, it reduced the damage he took from the searing hot flames.
Thinking quickly, he crossed his arms diagonally to each other and closed his eyes.
His core hummed in response.
Then, the next second, Alden found himself rapidly submerged in an ocean of flame.
As Alden used more and more mana to keep the fireball at bay, erecting a shield of decay with his crossed arms, the flame finally went out.
The smoke then cleared allowing him to gaze at the stunned expressions of the scouts.
Alden felt incredibly smug.
He did not let that cloud his judgement, though.
Within an instant, he was at Charny's side, sweeping a leg under him.
The winsome man had no chance to react.
Charmy's eyes widened.
Gripping the scout's face, Alden pressed it into the earth and tugged at his core.
A tenebrous energy as black as night manifested from his hand.
The blonde's muffled cries barely registered in his ears.
Alden ignored the sickening sensation and shut his eyes, sparing himself from watching the disturbing scene.
After the attractive man was no more, he turned around and spoke, his cold tone enough to make even the most fearless of men shiver.
"Next."
***
Scar stared at the young man.
He blinked uncomprehendingly.
How had he tanked an immolating fireball?
Scar knew he would have been unable to do the same if he was in the young man's shoes.
'It must be because of his damned decay!'
A second later, the leader of the scouts jolted out of his reverie.
His scar twinged as his features turned grim.
The fight had just turned a whole lot harder.
With three of them against the young man, they could have slowly exhausted his stamina and then dealt the final blow, keeping casualty and injury to a minimum. Unfortunately, their opponent's decisive action, whilst they were all stunned, threw a wrench in that plan.
Scar gritted his teeth, sensing Swifty's mana signature fade away into the distance.
The red-haired scout was running away.
'That damned coward!'
Scar clenched his teeth harder, his heart trembling, from both fear and anticipation.
Fear of what would happen if the tenebrous energy touched him, and anticipation for what he would do if he acquired the phoenix.
After all, he wasn't like the greedy fool Swifty.
Although some extra money would have been nice, it was not his top priority.
Scar had planned to stab Swifty in the back once they concluded with Charmy.
Why?
Because… Scar would have lost the opportunity to use the phoenix's priceless flame if the red-haired scout had gotten his way.
Why did he desire its flame?
To heal his face.
More precisely… his scar.
Oh, how he loathed that cursed thing!
He had gained it after a harrowing battle against a venomous viper with an onyx blade for a tail.
Scar barely kept his life as he subjugated the infernal thing - learning just in time that its blade was coated with a harrowing venom, and reacting accordingly, ensuring it only grazed his face instead of slicing his neck.
Much to his dismay, the healer on hand had only been able to expel the poison. They could do nothing to restore the scarred tissue to its former state.
When he enquired about someone who could rid his face of the ghastly blemish - through a magical concoction-, Scar learned that the potion required rare resources to be made.
Resources… that the medical practitioner would rather not use on a "minor" case like him.
They even dared to say that he should wear his gruesome scar with pride - a sign of his bravery and courage to fight back against the Defiled.
Unfortunately, Scar saw things very differently.
Never mind the fact that it was a constant reminder of his weakness, no one would want to marry a disfigured man like him.
And so, with the absence of love, came hate.
Both for himself, the scar, and his nickname - that blasted thing.
Just when all hope seemed lost, Scar came across the legendary phoenix.
A bird famed for its purity of flame, and rebirth.
Surely it would be able to get rid of his unsightly scar.
Thinking along those lines, Scar's resolve deepened.
He stared at the young man again.
This time, his gaze held a hint of madness and obsession.
An eager grin graced his face.
***
As soon as the echo of his voice faded, Alden jumped into action.
He leapt toward Scar, intent on finishing off the man as quickly as possible.
The sooner the fight was over, the sooner he could reunite with Celeste.
'Come at me, bastards!'
Contrary to his thought, the scout leader did not immediately rush him.
Instead, Scar welcomed Alden's advance with a smile.
One filled with endless yearning.
The sight sent chills down the young man's spine.
However, even though the scarred man seemed excited, he kept a safe distance.
It was evident that Scar was wary of the young man's insidious power.
A knot of anxiety and impatience formed in Alden's stomach.
Now that the white-haired young man was this close to the Sanctuary, he wanted to rush in and embrace his first love.
Alas, he had to deal with these rapacious scouts first.
Gritting his teeth, Alden suppressed his restlessness and strived to keep a cool head.
Just then, his gaze constricted as a flying object grazed the side of his neck.
If it wasn't for Alden's lightning-fast reflexes, he inwardly knew he wouldn't have survived such a quickfire attack.
The little wound stung, doubtless drawing a thin line of blood.
His features turned grave.
As he dashed forward to close the distance between him and Scar, Alden was able to identify what had almost killed him. Several shuriken now floated around the scout leader, ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice.
'Telekinesis?'
The young man's features turned even more grim.
With that discovery, his desire to get close and not give Scar the luxury of launching attacks from long-range doubled.
Alden dodged a couple more shuriken, removing any thoughts of Celeste and the Sanctuary from his mind. What replaced it was a cold, calculating battle clarity that quickly attempted to analyse a path that would bring the scarred scout down.
'If I keep moving closer, he'll just keep backing off and pelting me with shuriken from range. I need something that will make him come to me, instead.'
Alden's eyes sharpened.
He had just the trick.
Just as he neared Scar, he suddenly stumbled.
That momentary slip was enough to offset any momentum Alden had gathered from his earlier dash.
Instantly, Scar capitalised on the opening.
Rather than finish him off with shuriken, the scout leader darted toward him.
His blade swung through the air full of menacing promise.
Alden merely smiled.
He had guessed correctly when he assumed Scar would become overconfident after seeing him stumble.
…For this was no accident.
It was a trap.
Grinning viciously, Alden used his mana sense to discern the approximate trajectory of the sword. Then, using all the flexibility he had learned from his favourite pastime as a child - parkour - the young man pressed his hands into the earth and launched himself into the air.
As the sword whistled past his ear, he twisted his body and launched a brutal kick to the scout's face.
Scar crumbled to the ground, dazed.
Alden immediately pounced, not letting the opportunity go.
His hands found the man's neck.
After a few minor adjustments, he lifted the scout into a chokehold.
Then, he twisted.
A distinct snap echoed through the air.
Scar collapsed for the final time.
Alden sensed the life swiftly fade from the man's body.
He sighed.