Ba-Dump Ba-Dump Ba-Dump
A heartbeat echoed.
"Fuuu." White Mask, released a soft breath.
The plan was to avoid a direct confrontation by all means, yet Rolan's impatience had nearly shattered that option to pieces. Not that it was entirely unexpected though— with the archer's current mental state, it wasn't much of a surprise that he would do something stupid.
Invel was the type to combat fire with fire and White Mask understood this better than anyone. Their chances of surviving a head-on confrontation, factoring the advantage of their Bugged cloaks now dwindled to a mere 5 percent. And therefore, swift action was needed.
Even the slowest S-rankers could traverse fifty meters in a second using chakra boost. And while White Mask was previously hesitant to strain the cloak's efficacy, there was no point in holding back any longer.
In a singule breath, the masked figure materialized on the scene, scarred beyond recognition from the traces of battle.
Invel's rear view exhibited an illustration of suffering. Blood seeped out from numerous wounds and chakra arrows pierced every inch of his torso, depicting a ghastly image of agony. Despite this, the prince showed no signs of despair.
He stood tall, his hand delicately brushing away the tears from Inara's cheeks.
It was unfathomable how anyone in such a state could remain on their feet. But if there was someone capable of this feat, it most certainly was Invel.
—
Invel, releasing faint, stifled gasps, spoke carefully to Inara.
"Ina..." He began, his voice trailing off with each breath.
"Do you remember our conversation from three years ago... before you embarked on your first visit to Lorianth..." He pressed on further. But as he remembered that the visits to Lorianth were a part of her forgotten memories, regret clouded his face.
Yet, when the princess lifted her gaze, tears cascading down her cheeks, the need to comfort her overwrote his remorse.
Invel continued, fully aware of the pain his words might inflict.
"Remember, I told you of the state I attained that makes me the strongest... the state of absolute oneness..."
The prince's words paused momentarily, tender and warm. His breaths intermingled with a smile that contradicted the torment surging through him.
In response, Inara nodded, wiping away her tears.
"We readers call it the Ace of Dells..." He disclosed as blood trickled from the corners of his mouth.
"I believe you will reach this state one day... and when you do... you'll know what it's like to be loved by... cough." His words choked in the air, and concern immediately creased Inara's face.
"Big brother, p-please stop talking, your condition may—"
"Calm down and listen to me..." Invel sharply interjected, determination seeping through his weakening voice.
"When you're loved by chakra... the essence of your abilities will independently act on your will, even when you find yourself under restriction..." His words lingered in the air as he unveiled the true nature of the manifestation he often referred to as 'the particles.'
"As long as they're here, I won't die to the hands of someone infinitely weaker than me..." Lies. He had now enveloped Inara in every accessible particle. Undoing it also wasn't an option given how dangerous the situation had become.
The lingering energy from the princess' Gavel also made it impossible for him to activate his own. This meant that, were it not for her, he could effortlessly extricate himself from his predicament using the god-like powers sealed within his eyes. Knowing Inara was aware of this, he resorted to falsehoods, concealing the truth of his vulnerability.
"And no matter how dire the situation seems... remember that I'm still here... still standing on my two feet... so you have nothing to be worried about..." His cascade of white lies continued. The particles would maintain their shield only as long as Invel remained alive; his death would undoubtedly leave Inara vulnerable.
But Invel didn't care how many lies he had to tell. With darkness slowly encroaching his mind, he resumed with words aimed at dispelling her sadness.
"That sorrowful look doesn't suit you... I miss seeing your smile... most especially the one you had on your face that day..." The prince spoke. He should've halted when Inara's tears ceased, but he couldn't fully rein in control over his words.
"It also doesn't help that... the last time you shed tears like this..." Stop talking. His breaths labored as he struggled against the words slipping from his lips.
'Was the day you pleaded to have your memories erased.' An unintended revelation nearly escaped his lips, but thankfully, he was able to force his words to a halt at the last second.
Breathing heavily, he bit his lower lip until it bled. Then, placing one hand on her shoulder, he spoke, voice laced with determination.
"Sorry... I need to go entertain our guests," the prince said as White Mask arrived at the scene.
Invel turned around, and the masked figure dropped to one knee, head lowered with one fist pressed against the floor.
"Greetings, lord Invel." Echoed a muted voice.
Invel paid the voice little attention. Absorbed in his own world, he moved on ahead with a zombie-like, unsteady gait.
As another jade arrow streaked towards him, aiming for his head, the beleaguered prince released a quiet breath.
His hand deflected the projectile, sending it veering off course. Invel's vigilant eyes had detected the arrow in time, yet the sheer force of the projectile left the prince's hand marked by a profusion of blood.
—
Rolan, perched atop the gnarled tree branch, meticulously fashioned another chakra arrow.
'Tsk, just die already!' He thought, eyes widened, carrying impatience.
With gritted teeth, the young archer pulled back his gleaming bowstring. He had already pierced his target in several vital spots. Invel's heart, lungs, liver, kidneys and other crucial organs all bore wounds of the archer's lethal precision.
By all logical measures, the prince should have met his demise at least ten times over, but there he stood, a living testament to endurance.
Disbelief fractured Rolan's focus. As he beheld the living contradiction from considerable distance, his limbs trembled, his aim wavering.
Just as the archer prepared to release, their gazes locked in a profound connection across the distance. Invel's terrifying scowl sent a sudden tremor, more felt than heard, rippling through the entire forest.
Rolan's heart quickened, his concentration shattering like glass.
Startled, the archer's world spun and he found himself tumbling from his perch. Twigs and branches creaked and snapped as he crashed through them, into the ground below.
—
Invel lurched forward, painting a crimson trail with each step. His breaths were ragged yet, he advanced towards the masked figure ahead of him.
As he slouched forward, nearly collapsing to the ground, Inara promptly appeared from his shadow. She slid his left hand around her shoulder, offering him reliable support.
"Appreciate it, my bad..." He said to her but she remained silent. Her hazel eyes, once stained with tears, now held steady with resolve.
The quivering forest intensified the sense of impending doom. And as the pair reached the masked figure, White Mask spoke, retaining a deferential posture of greeting.
"I beg forgiveness for my companion's impudence, my Prince. He's only a child, please overlook his actions," the distorted voice resonated.
"Vermin..." Invel exhaled softly, a chilling pause hanging in the air.
"I'd rather you quit buying into your own act... rise and reveal your true intentions." Invel declared. And following his command, the masked figure stood, confronting the prince.
Negotiating with an angered Invel was an extreme sport, yet White Mask couldn't afford to back down. The lives of three people were on the line, fueling a sense of confidence despite the imminent danger.
"As I mentioned earlier, I really am sorry for everything... but..."
"Under the orders of Lord Latio Deathbringer... we have come here to retrieve Lord Keres." White Mask declared, determination burning in the muffled voice.
—