章節 107: Fallen Sky’s Convoy
"All I'm saying is I think slavery has a few benefits—"
"Blood!" Emile cut him off.
"What?!" He snapped back.
"Now's really not the time!" Emile grunted, receiving a full-frontal blow from Willow's fist.
Her fist struck his scimitar and yet Emile was launched back. His feet slid across the white sand and sunk into the dune behind him.
Blood sat on top of said dune, snacking on a meticulously laid out array of dried meats and fish. Between bites, his job was to distract Emile without interfering in their spar. So far he's been quite successful.
Emile dug himself out of the sand dune and spit a clump of sand to his side. He activated his Nimbus Charm and exploded forward, immediately crashing into Willow's wrist guards.
Willow stood her ground, her golden armor absorbed the vast majority of Emile's impact and was tough enough to resist any and all slashes from his Enlightened scimitar.
With Emile above her, pushing his sword into her wrists, Willow took advantage of his opening. She dropped one arm and plowed it into Emile's stomach.
The strength behind her uppercut kept Emile in the air, in fact, it sent him even higher. Emile soared through the air and crash landed beside Blood, knocking up piles of sand and ruining the little prince's picnic.
Rolling over, Emile clutched his stomach and dry heaved over the sand. He kept trying to suck in air, but his diaphragm had just been crushed.
"I think it comes down to individual needs versus collective needs, you know? Obviously I understand nobody wants to be a slave, but think about how much they contribute to the collective…." Blood began rambling again.
"I think that's enough for today," Willow interrupted Blood, walking up the dune and arriving beside the two boys.
They were currently settled just outside of the Hollow Mountains, on the border between the sand dunes and the rocks. They've been here for almost a month, entirely focused on training and sparring, preparing for the inevitable war that's going to take place just over the mountains.
Timi Oswald continued to remain a ghost as nobody had entered or exited the Hollow Mountains during their stay there. Apart from training, they were actually waiting for the first convoy from Fallen Sky.
Ordered by King Alexander and then approved by King Ulmor, Emile was granted a particularly unique role in the upcoming months. He was to remain stationed near the Dead Tree's miasma and protect the researchers conducting experiments on it, all with the end goal of finding a cure or antidote to the miasmas effect.
His ability to heal, even if the King's believe he's only able to heal himself, makes him an invaluable asset; Emile can search the otherwise unsearchable. With him leading the research team, they were far more likely to find some way to counteract it.
And because he was essentially charging into enemy territory, Willow was ordered to accompany and protect him.
And Blood, well, he's just here for fun.
"I really think I'm onto something here." Blood commented.
"You're not." Emile shut him down the moment he could catch his breath.
"You're progressing incredibly fast, Spright. I'm not sure you can get any better without transcending." Willow said.
"I haven't won a single spar." Emile dejectedly replied.
"I don't think you'll ever be able to beat me. Maybe in a battle of attrition, but it's essentially a non-combatant versus a highly specialized combatant. It's incredible you're as strong as you are with the Gift you have." Willow showered him in praise.
"So I need to go on a killing spree." Emile concluded.
"Pretty much." Willow shrugged.
"But we have to wait for the convoy." Emile stated.
"Yeah… we're pretty much stuck doing nothing." Willow dismissed her armor, revealing her glistening skin underneath.
Wearing a crop top and shorts, sweat ran down Willow's back. Her bright, red hair ruffled in the hot winds and her white teeth seemed even brighter next to the white sand dunes.
Emile caught himself staring and quickly looked away only to notice Blood doing the same thing, although he wasn't smart enough to catch on.
Willow slammed her foot into the sand, kicking a ridiculous amount of it directly into Blood's eyes. The black haired prince coughed bloody murder and pushed his fingers into his mouth, trying anything he could to get the sand out.
"Was it worth it?" Willow asked, a devious smirk spread across her soft lips.
After getting enough sand out of his eyes and mouth to operate, Blood exploded up. He stood his ground, planting both feet on his picnic blanket.
"Does the blanket mean nothing to you two?!" He yelled, "Sand does not go on the blanket! It's a simple rule!"
"And I don't like being ogled by little boys, but here we are." Willow shrugged.
"Spright was looking too! Kick sand in his face!"
"Spright's my equal. Where his eyes fall is none of my business."
"What?!" Blood shouted.
"Hey guys—" Emile called out.
"What the hell do you want?!" Blood snapped.
"They're here." Emile pointed out in the distance, across the desert.
Far away, appearing on the horizon of the desert, a caravan of wagons and soldiers marched towards them. Finally, after a month of traveling and another month of sparing, the trio would finally get to do something a little more interesting.
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