C167: Arnold’s ambush
Roson, while concealed within the dense branches of a nearby tree, frowned upon hearing the small lad's sudden declaration of surrender.
'What manner of trickery is this?'
For once, she had not expected herself to be exposed.
She had deliberately expended her precious blue Pure Yi essence vial to conceal herself from sight and detection. It should have suppressed her presence, rendered her invisible to any Stagefarers. Yet her opponent apparently possessed some other means of perceiving her.
That revelation also made clear another truth: this lad was far from the ordinary she had initially taken him for.
'Is this what the Customer's warning foretold of this lad?'
The lad certainly appeared dangerous enough at first glance.
He emanated some predatory aura that prickled against her senses, and the fact that the thin man named Davis had to be polite around him had also served as evidence.
Roson had taken the Trader's warning with seriousness. It was, after all, a warning issued from a Golden Stage Curse.
However, the difficulty remained that the Customer could not pinpoint the source of that bad luck. It might emanate from this lad, or it might originate from some different quarter.
She had trailed them for a considerable span of time, unwilling to intercept directly, knowing full well she had to beware of prepared traps and ambushes along the path.
But never had she expected that this lad would not only be aware of her presence, but would also betray his own senior in cold blood to save his own skin!
Roson observed the lad with the bandaged head and clean attire carefully. She studied his form for a full minute, uncertain how to proceed.
'This lad possesses some nerve, I will grant him that.'
She still needed to ascertain whether Davis was truly dead, or whether this was just a performance staged to deceive. She could detect the scent of fresh blood on Davis's body, but it carried a strange, off-putting scent, more peculiar than the usual iron tang of human blood.
'I can always transform into bats and flee should things turn sour.'
After weighing the matter at length and concluding she had nothing meaningful to lose by revealing herself, Roson dropped from the tree and landed lightly upon the earth.
In that same instant, the lad turned his head, and his gaze locked directly with hers.
"When did you become aware of my presence?"
Roson demanded promptly, maintaining a careful distance between them.
The lad tilted his head to one side, as if deep in thought. He gestured briefly toward Davis's body under his feet, before answering politely.
"From the very beginning. That is why I led him away from his companions."
"What do you want?"
"I wish to join the Trader," the lad declared, placing one hand flat over his heart in the formal courtesy employed by the White Church. “I trust he possesses the means to assist me in advancing to a higher Stage, more than this group of thugs."
Roson did not refuse outright. To accept or reject such a proposition was solely the Trader's prerogative; she had no authority whatsoever to speak on the matter herself.
However, she still required clarification on one point before proceeding any further.
"What Path do you walk? And by what means did you detect me?"
The lad met Roson's gaze without flinching, offering a respectful bow before answering.
"I walk... the Spy Path of the Moon Faction. As for how I perceived you, surely you must understand it better than myself."
Roson's brow furrowed, but she offered no response.
'Spy Path.'
The pieces of the puzzle clicked together in her mind, and at last understanding dawned.
'I see. That explains why we have no prior intelligence on this lad. He must be masking his own power.'
The Spy Path Stagefarers were renowned throughout the underworld for their masking abilities, capable of concealing themselves or any object they wanted to hide, extending even to the disguise of their Path, their eye color, and their spirituality.
At the weaker Stages, Spy Path Stagefarers were mostly considered weaklings. It was rare to encounter someone as audacious as this lad, willingly revealing his own Path so openly. It defeated the whole purpose of his Path.
As for how the lad had detected her, she could not guess. However, that mystery was not important in the present situation.
Roson advanced toward Arnold's position gracefully, twin daggers held ready in her hands.
She cast a glance around her surroundings. Her eyes cataloged Arnold, Davis's body, and the star-scattered sky above.
Detecting nothing amiss, she proceeded further.
She passed by Arnold, leaning down to examine Davis's corpse at close range, her expression darkening as her sensitive nose confirmed her initial suspicion.
'As expected, the scent of this blood is wrong.'
In an instant, Roson’s eyes flashed violet. She moved her hand and swung her dagger toward Arnold’s throat!
The lad reacted immediately. He raised his arm, and a dagger hidden beneath his coat sleeve slid into his hand, intercepting Roson’s strike.
A sharp ringing sound reverberated through the trees as the two daggers collided.
At the same time, Arnold took several steps backward and threw a handful of small silver shillings toward Roson.
Roson waved her arm, knocking the coins aside.
*Pick, pick, pick.*
“?”
A confused expression crossed her face as she realized the coins were harmless. They struck her coat and fell to the ground without even damaging the fabric.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“Have you heard of the custom of throwing beans to banish demons? Something like that.”
“...”
Roson drew another dagger with her free hand. She stood still, her eyes flashing with contempt as she crossed both blades into an X before her chest.
In the same breath, her white coat turned black. Her figure blurred and vanished in a streak of violet light!
Arnold’s pupils moved rapidly as he tried to follow her. His ordinary vision could not pinpoint Roson’s position. She was simply too fast, moving between the trees and branches before his eyes could properly register her.
However, he had another advantage at his disposal.
The calculated power of two minds worked together through Field Vision, allowing them to process her movements from multiple angles.
‘Isa!’
‘Yes!’
Isa seized control of Arnold’s body and maneuvered his movements, while Izzy controlled his reflexes. His arms rose at the exact moment Roson’s dagger flashed toward his head, deflecting the strike with a metallic clash.
“!”
Roson’s figure blurred again. She moved between the trees and branches, vanishing into the darkness. Each time she appeared, another slash descended upon Arnold, and each time, he promptly blocked it.
The sound of colliding daggers echoed throughout the edge of the forest. The wind rose around them, carrying the rustling of leaves and the snapping of thin branches through the dark. Shadows shifted between the trunks, and the cold night air was sliced apart again and again by flickers of steel.
At first glance, it appeared as though the two forces were evenly matched. Whenever Roson struck, Arnold immediately reacted and intercepted her dagger.
However, only Izzy knew that Arnold was being pushed backward.
The evidence appeared on his torn attire and the shallow slash across his cheek, where blood slowly ran toward his jaw. Arnold was struggling with everything he had to keep pace with Roson, while Roson continued using her usual speed, testing him and measuring the limits of his ability.
The two could not be placed on the same scale.
Roson was a Foundation-stage Dhampir, while Arnold was just an ordinary human vessel controlled by two minds. Under normal circumstances, Arnold would have stood no chance against her.
Nevertheless, Izzy’s objective was never to defeat Roson. She had another plan in mind.
At that same moment, a quick thought flashed across Roson’s mind.
'He is not particularly strong. Why, then, do I feel a sense of danger?'
The lad was clearly not powerful. At most, he had the strength equivalent to an Apprentice-stage Stagefarer.
Even at the Foundation Stage, a Stagefarer of the Spy Path could not compare with most other Paths in direct combat.
It was a Path for cowards, as far as Roson was concerned.
Judging from the situation, Roson’s victory was already imminent. She had not yet revealed any of her true abilities, while the lad had already sustained visible injuries. His coat was torn, his cheek was cut, and blood stained the side of his face.
Yet the bad feeling continued to rise within her chest.
'This lad is waiting for something.'
Roson slowed her pace and stopped several meters in front of Arnold. She glanced around the surrounding trees, checking the branches, the undergrowth, and the dark spaces between the trunks for any sign of a hidden trap.
Then realization struck her.
'I understand! That Deceiver is deceiving me!'
Roson’s eyes widened as the pieces aligned in her mind.
The strange scent of Davis’s blood, his betrayal, the lad’s suspicious behavior, and the deliberate confrontation had all been arranged to expose her presence!
Fortunately, she had remained cautious.
While this lad distracted her, the thin Deceiver must have used his Distraction ability to conceal himself, slipping away from the ground and circling around to await the perfect moment to strike.
Roson turned her head abruptly behind her.
“Hah! I have seen through your pl—why are you still lying there?”
As if laughing at Roson’s deduction, Davis remained motionless on the ground, exactly where he had been.