Running helped. It really helped. Or perhaps it was just the aftereffect of getting out of that burning pan of murder. Either way, his mind was clearer. It ordered his legs to keep moving while all he wanted was to find a place to sleep. Perhaps a sleep could continue its awesome function of curing everything. His conscience included.

  But no, staying in proximity was dangerous. It was a revolt. Even though he was just passively tagging along, the fact that he killed the Red Nose and helped the rebels wouldn’t change. He did participate in that. No, getting caught now would be bad.

  After getting out of the settlement — which was also awakened by what happened in the fighting pit — Zalanir quickly caught on to the fact that he wasn’t the only one chasing after Djaxinz. He had no way of seeing the man with the funny hat anymore, but his ears could still point him in the direction of the man. However, after getting into the forest, there was also another source of steps rushing to his right. Quite far away from where he was, though, so he couldn’t really tell if they were friends or foes. No, not friends, because the only one who he could reluctantly call that was Lithma, and the man was still fighting back there from his last glance at the battlefield, so the one who was chasing after Djaxinz was neutral at best toward him. A high possibility would be a guard.

  Zalanir slowed down a bit, lengthened the distance, and minimized the impact of his footsteps. He wasn’t sure where Djaxinz was going, but this had triggered his curiosity. He was doing his utmost not to think about the death of the Red Nose. This could be a substitute for the time being.

  “Isn’t it rude just following behind? Why not come out and say hello?”

  Zalanir shuddered at the voice of Djaxinz after tracking him for god-knows-how-long. He was too focused on avoiding any broken branches or stuff that would give him out. But Djaxinz knew after all. And here he thought that he had been deliberate enough. The man was still quite a bit ahead, so Zalanir stopped stooping and came—

  “As expected of someone who dared to steal from under his nose. It itched me to think that you have no connection to the revolt. Am I right?”

  A deep, strained voice vibrated in the air, stopping Zalanir in his tracks. To confirm the situation, he decided to lie low, not moving a single step.

  “And here I am wondering who it is. My greetings, Dgun, or do you prefer the name Xilma?

  “You are rather informed, aren’t you? Not like I expect anything less from the man who could track down even the location of the black lotus. Now I am in quite a pickle. Boss loves that flower, but at the same time, I don’t want to fight you. Can we settle things in peace?”

  “We can. I will go my way, and you follow yours. No one knows about this meeting. Isn’t it the best?”

  “Looks like we can’t reach an agreement. So let me have a taste of the man who has been hailed as one of the strongest men of the fighting pit then. My hands have always been tied in there, you know, playing two roles at once.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine.”

  The conversation was cut off, replaced by the sound of broken branches and stuff colliding. Zalanir wanted to see the fight between those who were praised as the strongest fighters, especially after Vitius and Schallin had already left. Those two were the only ones left from the five fighters that Lithma mentioned. No, four. That Dgun and the mysterious boss of the Invincible gang were in fact one person, after all. Thinking back to the notoriety of the Invincible Gang, and the appearance of Red Nose and others alongside the guards, everything became clear. Damn it. He had failed to connect so many hints.

  The closer to the battle, the slower Zalanir crept forward, carefully avoiding any possible obstacles. He aimed for a tree with big roots at first, but then decided that peeping over a huge rock to the left was the better choice. He would rather stand than crouch. His back still ached and screamed from all the stabs and wounds caused by that rat.

  The distance was still about 20ish meters, but Zalanir was content for now. If he wanted to get closer, he would need to get to a bush about half-way there, and he wasn’t confident that he could still stay undetected in that case.

  Thanks to the moonlight that somehow managed to squeeze through all the dense canopy and branches, Zalanir could follow what was going on. Both of them were quite evenly matched. That was his analysis after watching for five minutes. Djaxinz, as always, relied on his punches, kicks, and incredible speed and reaction to take on the opponent. Zalanir had questioned before that whether this style of combat was employed because of how good-looking Djaxinz was, or was it because of the way he weaved in and out effortlessly that reminded Zalanir of a dancer, not a combatant, that projected and illustrated the awesomeness of the man? What came first?

  On the other hand, Dgun fought with a big black blade that he just hurled around using only the right hand. What strength! If one took into account the fact that he didn’t look buffed at all, it would look even more impressive.

  But going even with Djaxinz meant bad news for the boss of the Invincible Gang because of the bursts that Djaxinz could manifest out of nowhere. Zalanir wasn’t sure what exactly the cause was, but it seemed like it was related to how the man sometimes just kept going after unnatural spots. Just now, Djaxinz took an elbow to the upper chest in exchange for a tap on the back of Dgun’s right shoulder. Who traded like that?

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  The flow of the fight changed when Dgun, in a surprising move, conjured three additional blades that floated in the air and attacked Djaxinz on their own. They were the size of a normal blade, not as massive as Dgun’s main, but still prevented Djaxinz from approaching.

  Just when Zalanir was wondering what would be the answer, the man with the feather hat also upped his tempo. A glowing blue aura enveloped his body, and suddenly, his speed surpassed that of a simple slash. Dgun’s attacks couldn’t even touch the man’s shadow, let alone his real body.

  Now, the fight was heavily in Djaxinz’s favor. Dgun had almost retreated to defense only now under the constant assault of his opponent, only able to swing two or three just-to-be-there attacks. Then, in the blink of an eye, the gang’s boss collapsed onto the ground. Djaxinz’s shadow washed over him.

  Zalanir prepared to move again when the fight was already over, but the man just stood there motionlessly. Puzzling about what was happening over there, Zalanir thought of revealing himself, but suppressed it for now. This feeling of sneaking around and worrying about being caught red-handed was rather pleasant and exciting, at least for him at this moment.

  “You should have been more aggressive when he swung his blade. Plenty of opportunities to sneak in at least some attacks there.”

  A third voice caught Zalanir off guard, prompting his body to immediately crouch down. It came into his ears like a top-tier headphone that he had once tried at a tech showcase. The sound was everywhere and immersive. How come Zalanir wasn’t aware of the third person? Did he know about his current spying? Where was he?

  “Master! You are here.”

  Djaxinz’s response revealed the identity of the mysterious person. No wonder that man was so strong. Having a secret master like that was just unfair.

  “Now, before you tell me what you’ve been up to during the last three months, kid! Come here. You have been sneaking up to Djaxinz for a while. Based on your reasons, I will decide what to do with you.”

  Djaxinz’s master kept his calm tone, but the target had no doubt changed to Zalanir. Or maybe others? Zalanir counted to sixty seconds, but nobody came out. Sighing, he stepped out of the little hiding spot.

  “Oh, it’s you. What’s with all these wounds? What are you doing out here?” Djaxinz waved his hands.

  “Well, the revolt. I found you leaving the pit via the back, so I just kind of followed along. You know, having nothing better to do,” Zalanir scratched his head. His health bar was no longer flickering, thanks to passive regeneration, but still, it was just enough to edge over the 20% mark.

  “That’s good. You survived it. Well, Shinnya isn’t here anymore. If you want to, she’s probably in Yebin right now,” the man wore a teasing smile on his face.

  “You know it’s not it,” Zalanir sighed. “But what are you doing out here? I feel like this question should be pointed toward you rather than me?”

  Zalanir got to where Djaxinz was and glanced toward Dgun. There was no visible detrimental wound, but knowing the weird burst, he wouldn’t be surprised if the man was already dead. Ugh, another death.

  “He’s still alive, but shouldn’t wake up for at least two days. His internal organs are probably mending themselves right now, but nah, can’t be too quick. By the way, I’m leaving soon, so you should head back. Ah, my bad. Maybe not back there. You won’t have a good time there after the revolt.”

  Right. Now that he mentioned it, Zalanir did really have nowhere to go now. He could already imagine the punishment if he returned, and there was no way he turned himself in. As for whether the rebellion succeeded in taking over? He doubted it. The settlement was waking up when he left, so maybe the army would show up. They had to have an army to keep everything under control, right? Not to mention the fact that the henchman of Harkon chasing after Djaxinz until here had to mean that he was confident in whoever was in charge back at the pit to handle the situation.

  Well, maybe I will go explore a little bit. Having been pulled into this world, being caught by the brigands, getting sold to a fighting arena — each of these occasions was outside of his control. Even though his plan of reaching level 35 to buy back his freedom, and then going outside to explore the settlement was already ruined, if he looked at it from another angle, didn’t it mean that he had accelerated the process of reclaiming his freedom to several weeks, or even months ahead? He basically just skipped the whole thing altogether.

  He was free now. There was no chains keeping him in one place anymore. And instead of a settlement, he had the whole world to explore. The child inside his body was screaming and jumping up and down right now from just the joy of imagining it. What would happen if he saw a dragon? Or a phoenix? Maybe there was a peaceful, impeccable agriculture land full of barefooted halflings out there waiting for him to visit. Or perhaps he could stumble upon a vast desert filled with ancient tombs, sepulchral snakes, and laser-firing constructs. Oh, and the giant scorpion and moving sphinxes. Those were awesome.

  Lots of images of places and creatures ran through his mind, but he had to cut them off for now. There was an old man descending from the sky. Based on the calm manner, he doubted the old man was just jumping down from a high vantage. No, he was floating down. In other words, he flew. He was fucking flying.

  He was a normal-looking old man with hair almost touching the ground when he landed. Hiding inside of them were two bumps on top of his head that Zalanir wasn’t sure what they were. Horns? Cool-designed helmet? The man reminded Zalanir of his grandfather. There was a feeling of oldness and calmness there. And anything but frail, because the man was still sharp and on-point with his movements. Almost no hesitation was shown.

  Zalanir was about to greet the old man, or Djaxinz’s master, after he landed, but an occurrence happened that captured not just his, but also both of the pupil and master’s attention as well. A single green butterfly emerged from inside the old man’s silk shirt and flew toward Zalanir. He wanted to react, but his eyes just got sucked into the small creature, as if its existence challenged and dwarfed anything or anyone trying to make their presence known.

  Then, it landed on top of his forehead, and the last sight he saw was his vision shifting from a horizontal view toward the dark sky.