Gregory was, as the woman said, Colin’s savior. He could use that as leverage to explore whatever lay hidden behind the door. It was practically a given, considering the woman’s attitude.
However, that was only possible if she didn’t know Gregory’s current situation.
‘Right now, I'm bound by Malia’s Sensory Sharing.’
Gregory was currently under Malia’s watchful eye. Breaking free from the Sensory Sharing wasn’t difficult, but it would instantly alert Malia. And for Gregory, who was walking a tightrope with Frondier, that was a risk he couldn’t take.
‘I don’t know for sure, but there’s something dangerous in there. This woman, acting all friendly, she’s trying to figure out who I am. Like finding out who the owner of the Mana within this crow is, or tracing it back to attack me directly.’
He had just recently been found out by Malia. To go through something similar again was unbearable.
Furthermore, if she could trace it back, Malia would be in danger as well.
Hurting Frondier’s mother, Malia, due to a moment of carelessness? He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Frondier would do.
“In that case, I suppose I can’t invite you in.” The woman said, sounding disappointed. Gregory could tell from her voice; she was his kind of woman. The type who lied so much, even they couldn’t tell what was true anymore.
Just then, another voice cut in.
“Hey, I don’t know who you are, but…” It was Colin.
“You said you were here to help Frondier, right?”
[That’s right. Even if it was you I ended up saving.]
Gregory had indeed crossed the continent in search of Frondier.
A little birdie told him.
After receiving a great deal of information about Frondier, Gregory learned that he had become quite famous in Atlas in that short period of time. Of course, with his skills, it was only natural for Frondier to gain notoriety quickly.
Gregory had tracked Frondier not by scent or senses, but by information. So, he was aware of the general situation.
However, even that information wasn’t any more detailed than what Frondier himself knew. He simply hadn’t had enough time.
“Frondier headed towards Charon’s mansion. I’ll tell you the location, so please head that way.”
[Charon is that man who just left. The enemy is one step ahead.]
With Charon here, there was no way Frondier would find him at his own mansion.
There was no way this timing, in this situation, was a coincidence.
For some reason, Charon knew Frondier’s situation like the back of his hand.
“There’s no time. There’s a high chance he’s already been ambushed. Please, hurry.”
Although faint, Colin’s voice held a hint of urgency that hadn’t been there before. Of course, it was so faint that Gregory, who had just met Colin, couldn’t even perceive it.
[Alright.]
“I’m sorry for chasing you away like this, but it’s truly urgent.”
[I said I got it.]
The crow replied, but didn’t move.
Colin, feeling puzzled for a moment, soon understood.
[I’m going now.]
***
Pielott, his body yanked through the air by the arrow, felt his vision fading in and out from the excruciating pain.
For an immeasurable amount of time, he was suspended between the sky and the earth, his arrow-riddled body dragged mercilessly towards an unknown destination. The wound burned deeper with each passing moment, his vision blurring with tears of agony.
Whee!
Thump! Thud!
Crrrrrash!
Finally, after an eternity of suffering, he was flung violently onto a hillside. Like a stone skipping across water, his body bounced several times, leaving a long, bloody trail in the dirt.
“Gah… ugh… huff… huff…!”
Pielott struggled to push himself up, his body trembling uncontrollably.
His body was pierced, blood flowing freely from the wound. The thread attached to the arrow, the source of his brutal journey, still clung to him. Pain and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him.
But he was behind enemy lines. To collapse here meant he would never rise again.
“Well, well, well.”
A carefree voice echoed from above.
“They’re not chasing after you. What a heartless captain you have.”
Pielott raised his head to meet the gaze of his tormentor.
‘…Easy to spot.’
A man with a sturdy build, holding a bow in one hand and a fist—or perhaps the end of the thread—in the other.
And then there were the wings on his back, leaving no doubt about his demonic nature.
“You poor thing, working for such a cold-hearted leader.”
“…Cold-hearted?”
“Indeed. His subordinate gets dragged into enemy territory half-dead, and he doesn’t even bother to send anyone after you.”
The man shook his head theatrically, feigning sympathy.
Then, a cruel smile spread across his face.
“Have you been abandoned?”
“…”
Pielott didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for the arrow.
The thread was still attached to it. If he left it in, he would be nothing more than a fish caught on a hook.
“Ah, hold on a second. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The man warned.
“My arrows are specially made. Pulling it out will only make the wound worse. Besides, the entire arrow is coated in poison. Touch it carelessly, and the venom will spread to your internal organs in an instant…”
Fwip!
Ignoring the man’s warning, Pielott yanked the arrow out.
“…Oh my.”
The man let out an amused gasp, his eyes widening in surprise.
“You’re an interesting one, aren’t you? Used to pain beyond your years. Special training, perhaps?”
“Something like that,” Pielott grunted, forcing his trembling body to stand.
“My captain has a penchant for pushing people around.”
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