Two days later…
Two figures could be seen running at full speed when an earth wall suddenly erupted from the ground in front of them, appearing out of nowhere like a living barrier.
"Shit, watch out!!"
Neither of them had any intention of smashing through the wall and losing precious momentum. Without slowing down, they instinctively split apart, darting past either side of the earthen structure as chunks of soil crumbled and fell behind them.
The two figures were none other than Azrael and Ryker.
"I knew this was a terrible idea," Azrael said through clenched teeth as he ran. His breath was uneven, his expression twisted with frustration. "We haven't even reached Stormwind Mountain, and our lives are already in danger."
"Panicking won't solve our current situation," Ryker replied calmly, despite the chaos around them. His voice was steady, almost annoyingly so. "We need to calm down and think of a way out of this predicament."
"I wouldn't even be in this predicament if you hadn't decided to provoke those bandits," Azrael shot back, throwing Ryker a sharp glance while keeping his feet moving.
"I didn't provoke them," Ryker said defensively. "They provoked me."
Azrael let out a disbelieving scoff. "You insulted them. You insulted their occupation. You even added that if their parents knew they'd grow up this useless—becoming nothing more than a nuisance to society—they'd curse the day they were born and choose never to conceive at all. You said the reason they're living like refugees is probably because their parents kicked them out for being disappointments they couldn't stand to look at anymore. And you're saying you didn't provoke them?"
Just as Azrael finished speaking, his body moved on instinct. He subconsciously twisted to the side, and in that exact moment, a blazing fireball tore through the air where his head had been.
The heat grazed his cheek, scorching hot, like standing too close to a raging furnace. His skin prickled, and the smell of burning air filled his nose as the fireball exploded somewhere behind them.
"Shit!" Ryker cursed. "You've made them even angrier now." He shot Azrael an irritated look. "Why did you have to shout everything I said, knowing fully well they can hear us?"
Azrael didn't slow down. He turned his head slightly toward Ryker, his expression dark as they continued sprinting at top speed.
"If we somehow manage to survive this," he said, breath heavy, "I'm never going along with any of your plans or ideas again."
"And if we don't?" Ryker chimed in casually.
"Then I'll find you in the underworld or wherever it is that dead people go and kill you." Azrael replied coldly.
"Hahaha!" Ryker couldn't help but laugh at Azrael's words. The situation was absurd, and the threat somehow made it funnier. However, his laughter was cut short when a terrifying chill crawled up the back of his neck.
His instincts screamed.
Ryker reacted instantly, throwing himself sideways. An arrow whistled past his face, missing his eye by a hair's breadth. Had he been even a fraction slower, the shaft would have pierced straight through his skull.
If not for his lightning element enhancing his reflexes, he would have already lost an eye—or worse.
"Shit! These people are really trying to kill us!" Ryker shouted, his expression finally turning serious.
"You think?" Azrael replied dryly.
"We can't just keep running like this," Ryker added as he leapt into the air. The ground in front of him suddenly erupted as jagged earth spikes shot upward, narrowly missing his legs. "We have to do something!"
"What do you want us to do?" Azrael snapped. "Fight? If we could fight them, we wouldn't be running in the first place!"
He clicked his tongue in irritation. "If not for the fact that we both have elements specializing in speed—and high-grade ones at that—we'd already be dead."
That much was undeniable.
One strange and almost amusing fact, however, was that Azrael was nearly keeping up with Ryker's speed. This should have been impossible. Azrael's wind element was two entire grades below Ryker's lightning element, and by all known logic, the gap between them should have been overwhelming.
Yet here he was, matching Ryker stride for stride.
Unfortunately, neither of them noticed this anomaly.
They were far too busy running for their lives.
"Do you think they'll stop chasing us if I apologize?" Ryker asked suddenly. "We can't keep this up. It's only a matter of time before our elemental essence runs out."
Azrael didn't need Ryker to remind him. He could already feel it—the wind elemental essence circulating through his body was thinning rapidly. His legs felt heavier, his breaths more labored. They wouldn't be able to maintain this pace for much longer.
Just when the situation seemed bleak, the terrain ahead began to change.
The open land gradually gave way to rugged ground, and in the distance, a vast mountain range came into view.
Stormwind Mountain.
Both Azrael and Ryker felt a surge of relief at the sight.
Their spirits lifted instantly.
The mountains meant dense trees, hidden caves, uneven terrain—countless places to hide or break line of sight. It would be far easier to lose the bandits there than in the open plains.
More importantly, the bandits wouldn't dare attack wantonly for fear of creating a large ruckus and attracting the magical beasts within the mountain range—something that would be anything but good for them.
For once, luck seemed to be on their side.