Kapitel 59: Time-Out

///Lost'sForward/// 100 Power Stones = 1 Chapter

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When Olive returned, midday approached. The men were even more exhausted than the last, nevertheless, they were nearly completed with the construction of livable structures. The buildings were single story and crafted from wood. The wood was light in color, tan, and through the use of its logs and boards — simple cabins erected in record time.

The cabins were square with slanted roofs. It cost seven logs for every cabin with one log at each corner and a split log each to build the reinforcements between the four corners. From there, the remaining logs were cut into boards. These boards were used to construct the cabins walls and roofs — in addition to doors, stools, tables, etc..

Also, thanks to the weavers, a massive pile of rope was made from the grass. This rope was used not only for the stability of the cabins, but it led to baskets, sandals, and blankets alike with the help of a little braiding.

As Olive strode through the grass and up the hill, the men around observed her. Nobody approached or greeted her.

In fact, none of them knew where she had been all this time. They didn't know when she was supposed to come back or when she was supposed to leave. All they knew about her was that she humiliated Miles — and in a rather aggressive manner at that.

Once she had climbed the hill and made it to its top, Olive noticed a crowd of men gathered around something she couldn't see. As she was searching for Isaac though, Olive naturally assumed that a crowd of people was most likely gathered because of him.

So, she meandered through the crowd of men and was spit out in the center where she found two familiar faces brawling for sport: the man who irked her, Miles, and another one of the men who skirmished with Miles the last time Olive was here.

The creme of the crop, according to Isaac.

Beyond the two men sparring, at the other end of the crowd, Olive found Isaac playing referee. As such, his eyes remained glued to the fight — fully entranced in his protege's prowess'.

Olive, however, was stressed. She had a burning anxiety at the back of her mind and a thumping that constantly struck her eardrums. Olive glanced at the spar momentarily, before ultimately deciding it was a waste of her time. Thus, Olive tip-toed her way around the edge of the crowd — hoping to disturb nobody — while making her way towards Isaac.

In the meantime, in the center of the crowd the spar intensified.

Miles's nails were extended — a result of his Ability — they resembled talons: long, sharp, and strong.

He struck with deadly precision and he was more nimble than the average joe. His steps were light and delicate, he fluttered through the grass and weaved his way in and around all of his opponents' attacks.

Miles played a game of tag. He consistently rushed towards his opponent, feigning an attack, before instantly side-stepping or leaping another direction; either around his opponent towards their back or Miles would retreat entirely, effectively resetting the engagement.

In addition, Miles possessed an in-depth knowledge of anatomy. All of his strikes, or swipes rather due to his claws, were pin-pointed at his opponents tendons and pressure points. In general, Miles engaged in a hit-and-run tactic: opting to rely on his swiftness to deliver minor wounds while searching for opportune moments to strike at vital points.

His opponent, on the other hand, relied on standard boxing practices. He was also light on his feet and he maintained a solid defense, but none of his strikes were connecting. Miles was simply too agile.

His opponent would throw a punch, a right hook, an uppercut, it didn't matter because Miles was able to avoid all of them and when he did so, his opponent would be left vulnerable and Miles could capitalize.

While their tug-of-war continued, Olive made it to the other side of the crowd. She tapped on Isaac's shoulder and grabbed his attention.

Immediately upon seeing her, Isaac hugged her.

"Time-out!" Isaac shouted.

Miles and his opponent froze — Miles's claws were inches away from his opponent.

Isaac gave his attention to Olive and Olive informed him of her run in with the Orc.

Meanwhile, the crowd of people felt dejected. The two participants even more so. They watched the pair discuss amongst themselves while practically ignoring the rest of them.

Olive did not intend to exclude anyone. She simply didn't feel the need to relay information to a large crowd of people — that was never her gig. Olive knew Isaac would tell them everything she told him, and he'd probably do it in a much more refined manner.

Isaac, on the same wave-length, paid rapt attention to Olive's words. Even though the camp was progressing smoothly, minus food and water, their shelter was immaculate. Also, Isaac simply trusted Olive more. And how could he not?

They had spent months hunting together, exploring together, and training together. Olive was an integral part of Isaac's team. Meanwhile, the newly summoned he was training was just that — training.

Once the camp was functionional and sustainable without his presence, Isaac planned to once again move with Olive.

Isaac's golden protege Miles, on the other hand, felt minorly betrayed. Already nauseated by Olive's presence, Miles distinctly noticed that whenever Olive came around — she took priority for whatever reason.

And Miles refused to see this trend continue for any longer.

"Hey!" He spoke with hints of venom, "Can't you see we're in the middle of something!? Why don't you wait your turn!"

Olive glanced at him, but ignored his words. What she was saying was more important than some jealous schmuck.

Isaac too, was enamored by Olive's report. Not only did she face an Orc, but without the aid of a weapon — the confrontation was a disaster. Orcs are physically superior in every possible way and if even Olive was beaten within an inch of her life — then the rest of them stood no chance.

They needed a forge. They needed metal! They needed food, water, weapons, training, experience!

They needed too much!

The thought of facing Orcs at the moment greatly concerned Isaac and completely occupied his thoughts. Moreover, Olive discovered water! Which means they need to create a team to effectively stake the water and claim it as their own, but Isaac just established that no one is strong enough to face the Orcs!

So what are they supposed to do? They needed water to survive, but to safeguard the water they needed weapons, but to make the weapons they needed to find ores, but to find the ores they needed to be strong enough to —

"Hey!" Miles shouted, "I'm fuckin' talkin' to you!"

Isaac was pulled from his plight. He looked over at Miles, a confused expression strewed across his face. He was too busy trying to find solutions, Isaac hadn't even noticed the annoyed glares directed his way.

Olive, on the other hand, was keenly aware of Miles's disgust and now she was fed up with it.

"Yeah! I could tell!" Olive glared back, "But I'm sort of in the middle of explaining something a little more important than your SHITTY fight!"

Miles's muscles constricted.

Adrenaline flushed his system.

Olive. Ruined. Everything.

His image. His reputation. This one, little victory in a spar that he's been working so hard for!

He is TRYING to fix his reputation! He is pushing himself as hard as he can to be better! To be stronger!

But SHE'S ruined EVERY opportunity for him!

"You know what?" Miles said.

"Fuck. You." He flipped his finger.

"Who do you think you are anyway? You walk around this place like you own it, but you didn't help us at all!" Miles's voice grew louder.

"You've been off doing who knows what! And you know what, I'm fuckin' SICK of your ATTITUDE!"

"Miles!" Isaac interrupted.

"STAY OUT OF IT!" Miles screamed.

He pointed towards Olive who still stood there, expressionless.

"Fight me!" He said, "PROVE you're better than me since you always act like it!!"

Olive rolled her eyes which just further enraged Miles, but he controlled himself.

On the other end, Olive was now pissed off at Miles's impression of her!

'What the fuck is he talking about!' She screamed internally.

'I've only been here like twice! How can I walk around like I own the place?!'

In her opinion, Miles was just an idiot lashing out for attention and at this point, Olive was happy to grant it.

She brushed off Isaac's hand that was holding her shoulder. She looked into Isaac's eyes and before he could say anything, Olive interrupted.

"I'll handle it."

She stepped away from the ring of the crowd and moved inwards.

She cracked her neck left and right.

"Pretty little claws you got there!" Olive mocked.

"I hope you don't think that makes you a lion because all I can see is a pussy!" Olive winked.

At this comment, the veins in Miles's neck bulged.

He didn't care for a referee. He wanted to wipe the smug look off of Olive's face as soon as possible!

He leaped off the ground and sprinted towards Olive.

He kept his center low and ran through the grass. He appeared before Olive rapidly and slammed his foot in front of him. He slid across the ground and came to a grinding halt all while exploding his forearm skyward and dragging his claws up towards Olive neck.

Olive leaned back just slightly and Miles's claws whooshed a hair's width past her face.

Olive extended her arm and, with an open palm, slammed her hand into Miles's chest.

Miles stumbled backwards and lost his balance. He tripped over himself and fell onto the grass.

Olive looked at him.

"Pathetic." She muttered.

She hadn't said it loud, only Miles could hear it, but that was the only person who needed to hear it.

Miles ripped himself off the ground and rocketed himself at Olive!

In his blind rage, he quit the hit-and-run tactic and repeatedly struck with brutal ferocity. He straightened his claws and speared them unto Olive, like punching with stretched out fingers, Miles pierced the space before him in a violent storm.

But his claws tasted no blood. Olive narrowly evaded each strike and as she did so, she backpedaled around the circle and led Miles around like a headless chicken. Olive side-stepped lunges, ducked underneath slashes, and weaved through Miles's onslaught of rage-induced attacks.

Miles struck fast, his arm flew above Olive's head. Meanwhile, Olive ducked underneath and pushed off the ground. Her clenched fist soared up and cracked against Miles's chin.

Miles stumbled backwards again. His head felt woozy and vertigo assaulted him.

Olive tore through the wind and arrived in front of Miles. She planted one leg on the ground and spun her hips around, launching her other leg through the air until her foot collided with Miles's temple.

Miles shot to the ground where he stayed, knocked out.

Silence engulfed the crowd.

They couldn't believe what they had just witnessed. A man double the size of Olive was K.O.ed in three strikes — one of which was against his chest!

*clap* *clap* *clap*

Then, a single set of clapping interrupted the stunned silence.

Everyone looked towards the clapper, including Olive, but all they could see was thick hands smacking against each other behind the heads of many men. As everyone else was now blankly staring at the men in the way, they dispersed almost immediately.

Even after the men moved, Clark kept clapping.

Olive scanned Clark up and down. She remembered him vaguely, he had some sort of crafting Class from what she could remember. Once Clark noticed Olive looking at him though, he froze and quit clapping.

Olive dismissed him and stepped over the unconscious Miles. She still had some stuff to talk about with Isaac, after all.

///LostNoteFound///

Hey! DevilGod_of_Chaos, thanks for the stone!!