Renard watched with cold eyes as Victor's body slumped to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
He glanced at the sword in his hand; it was too big for his small frame, but sure enough, his body hadn't forgotten how to kill!
There was no hesitation whatsoever.
Regressing hadn't affected the coldness of the Demon army commander after all.
Just as Renard was about to look at Victor's body, a rustle behind caught his attention, and he paused.
When he turned, he saw Gerald getting up from his sleeping spot, his hand already on the hilt of the sword.
At first, the knight seemed confused. But then, as he saw the bloodied blade in Renard's hand and Victor's lifeless body, he froze, and his eyes widened.
"Young master…?"
Gerald whispered, clearly shocked and not understanding what was happening.
Renard didn't bother to explain. He simply lifted a finger to his lips, asking him to be silent.
He didn't want Aria to wake up and see him like this.
Renard had already looked at all the escort member's Providence States.
Gerald was the knight in command of the escort, and there was nothing suspicious about him.
It was the same for the rest, and it seemed like none of them had any idea about the ambush.
"Wake everyone except Aria. Prepare to depart." Renard declared.
Even though he was only fourteen, his voice carried a firmness. "We need to leave. Do it quietly and carry Aria to Carriage."
Gerald looked at Victor's body again, then back at Renard.
His initial shock seemed to have faded.
Sure enough. He was a veteran, a senior knight who had served Tiara Castle for decades. He understood what had happened without needing any explanation.
Victor turned out to be a traitor.
And seeing the colorless vial on Victor's hand, Gerald realized that it wasn't anything pleasant either.
But what truly surprised Gerald was the young master himself.
His eyes were unusually cold; he hadn't seen the young master like this ever… what had happened to cause such change?
Even as these questions filled his mind, Gerald managed to compose himself.
If the young lord was asking to move then, then it's likely that Victor was not the only enemy, there may be more on their pursuit and already closing in.
He didn't know how the young master knew all that, but he just nodded and went to wake the others.
While Gerald did that, Renard squatted next to Victor's corpse.
He took the small glass vial in Victor's hand. Upon taking a closer look, he saw that the liquid inside looked much like water.
Of course, Renard knew it was anything but that.
'What a fool,' Renard thought, turning the vial in his fingers. 'You didn't even know what you were carrying.'
The liquid inside wasn't just something to track them.
Though it had tracking properties, its true nature was far more insidious—it was a poison. One designed to specifically sever a person's connection to their Blood Crest, thereby stopping them from using it.
Soul Sealer - a highly potent Essence Dispersing Poison.
In that instant, every piece of the puzzle clicked in. Renard understood why all the escorts died in his past life without even putting up a fight… it wasn't because they were weak.
Though Soul Sealer didn't outright kill, nor did it render one invincible. It temporarily made them unable to access any abilities. This made it devastatingly effective for escort knights at their level; it would leave them powerless and vulnerable—little more than defenseless prey awaiting slaughter.
'Thank god I didn't give him a chance to use this.'
Renard knew that if he was even a movement too late… things would have ended up very differently.
Anyway, now that he had the poison, an idea struck his head.
Thinking that, Renard reached for Victor's body, but something unexpected happened. A sudden flickered in his vision, and blue words appeared in front of him.
[Target can be Devoured]
[Would you like to Devour?]
Renard blinked in surprise.
So that's how you use the ability? But…. What exactly was he supposed to devour?
Well… he would find out soon enough.
The night remained eerily quiet. While everyone else was starting to wake up and preparing to depart in a hurry, Renard looked at the bottle in his hand and the blue words…
He had a plan now. A way to survive.
_____
The night was still, broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl and the rustle of leaves.
A group of dark figures gathered around a dying campfire, their hooded forms casting long, wavering shadows in the dim light. Their faces were barely visible under the dim moonlight and were unreadable, but all of them seemed to be waiting for something.
Then, one of them abruptly jerked upright. His hood slipped back to reveal sharp features illuminated by the embers.
"The Soul Sealer has been used!" he exclaimed, his voice cutting through the silence.
The others reacted immediately, and their hands moved to weapons concealed beneath their cloaks. A tall figure at the edge of the group stepped forward, his face hidden in the depths of his hood.
Without a word, he raised his head as if sniffing the air.
A few seconds passed, and then a few more, but none of the others present said anything.
"This way," he finally said, his voice gravelly and low.
No one questioned anything. Instead, they acted on his command.
Moving like shadows, they went through the forest, their feet barely making a sound on the leaf-strewn ground.
From their precise and practiced movements, it was clear that all of them were incredibly well-versed in the art of stealth.
The hooded leader navigated unerringly through the darkness, following an invisible trail only he could sense.
After several minutes of running, he felt something was wrong, and the leader's steps faltered.
"They are moving…" he muttered, more to himself than the others.
But he didn't stop!
The group pressed on, their breathing controlled despite their increased speed. Soon, they spotted the unmistakable imprints of horse tracks in the soft earth.
"There!" one of them pointed. "They're mounted. They seem to be running in a hurry."
"Speed up," the leader ordered, his voice tight with urgency. Though there was only a trail of a single horse, he had a bad premonition about this situation…
Something felt very… wrong.
"We can't let them escape."
It seemed like their plan to ambush the escort had failed, but that would not matter since the poison had already been used, and it won't change the end result!
The group surged forward, chasing the horse tracks through the dense underbrush. The trail led them to a small clearing, where a single horse grazed peacefully on dewy grass, its reins dangling loose.
But what lay draped across the horse's back made them stop dead in their tracks.
There, limply sprawled across the saddle, was Victor!
Blood stained his clothes, and his body was limp, unmoving. He… he seemed to be dead!
One of the men stepped closer, cautiously examining the scene. As he got closer…he noticed something carved on Victor's Forehead…
You are Dead
The words were crude, likely carved with the help of a sharp object!
More like a blade!
"We've been played," the leader snarled, ripping back his hood in frustration.
What came to view was a very blurry man with strong features, clad in full-plated armor and on his chest was the insignia containing the image of a Wild black panther and a white wolf!
It was the emblem of the Grim Household!
"They must have used the poison on Victor's body… and sent the horse in the wrong direction!"
The group stood in tense silence, realizing that they had been played!
The leader's fists clenched.
"Spread out!" he barked. "Find their real trail. They can't have gotten far."
Victor's blood was still fresh, which meant that it hadn't been long since he was killed!
No matter how fast they ran…
They wouldn't outrun the Wild Wolves of Tiara!
一一✽✽✽一一