The robotic screams of the rotund man were immediately followed by the battered form of the man on the floor abruptly standing up, his form bowing, and the two standing behind him also bowing. The three hit their chests in unison, the sound of hardness meeting hardness permeating the space.

They each uttered something at the same time, but it was clearly not in the human language. It sounded like clattering, as though hollow iron meeting another hollow iron. They each had the same translation artifact, yet it hadn’t translated it. Regardless, its meaning was clear.

The man maintained his seething demeanor as he stared at them, “Dismissed!”

He ordered, and just as he was about to turn, one of the guards suddenly spoke,

“What should we do with the prisoners, Lord Illai?”

Ilia’s response was immediate, “Focus on finding the third Prince, you buffoons, before I have all your limbs cut off! Move now!” He thundered, making each of them bow and leave the room.

As soon as they left, the angry expression on his face instantly morphed into a worried one.

“Shit! How did it come to this?” He hit his massive hand on the sturdy table, its form instantly buckling under the force, crashing down on the floor and spilling all the food. It was clear that despite his looks, he still packed quite a bit of strength.

Ilia put his right index finger in his mouth and bit down hard on it, a significant amount of blood gushing out. He kept on biting his index finger until he felt he had calmed down enough, his beating heart calming down slightly.

“It’s not the Ossarch I should be worried about, it’s her,” he thought gravely. “I shouldn’t have brought that fool here despite how much he pleaded! Shit!”

The sounds of numerous firm footsteps resounded across the area as a staggering amount of soldiers, donned in purple futuristic suits and all equipped with guns, marched out of the hastily made camp.

The short wooden gate closed behind the group, their march undisturbed as they streamed into the forest.

Seeing them, Atticus immediately hid, making sure to stay away from their sights. After a few seconds, with each of them long gone, Atticus landed on the ground once again and focused his gaze on the camp.

‘This makes it easier. I have to act now before they return,’ Atticus decided.

Although the camp wasn’t empty, it was quite scanty. However, Atticus had zero intentions of attacking the camp head-on.

For an important person such as Zekaron to be present, it was only fair that there be some strong warriors to protect him. Plus, even though he had acted like a warrior, he still gave off some kind of young master vibe.

‘These towers are a huge problem.’

Luckily, the camp was surrounded by trees, enabling Atticus to jump from one tree to another and circle the camp. After observing each of the watch towers around the camp, Atticus noticed a pattern in their routine.

There were exactly seven towers around the camp, and the men on top were all so diligent in their jobs that they practically acted like robots.

The duo on the top of each tower stood on different sides of the tower, and after more or less 10 seconds, each pair would swap their positions, moving slowly in a clockwise direction.

After watching them for a while, Atticus studied every single one of their demeanors and habits and instantly came up with a plan of entry. He would be cutting it close, really close, but it was his only option.

He chose the western side of the camp where three towers stood.

‘At the point of exchange, the men on the two towers at the left would lose sight of the spot in between the middle and the right tower for exactly 2.4 seconds. The only problem is that the man on the right tower would only lose sight for 1.6 seconds, and I need at least 2 to pass through,’ Atticus’s mind swirled.

The distance between him and the camp was about 50 meters. Taking into account his speed and precautions, Atticus determined how long it would take him to reach his destination.

‘I would need a small distraction.’

Atticus jumped down quietly from the tree and grabbed a flat stone on the forest floor, bending down and picking up another,

‘Just in case.’

Then, he crouched down, both hands on the ground, one knee forward and the second stretched behind him, placed firmly on the tree.

Then, Atticus slowed down his breathing, his focus on each of the men on the towers, watching silently.

After a few seconds, the men started switching positions, and just as they got to the noted position, Atticus’s leg tensed, his form erupting with speed.

His every step on the ground was utterly silent, his every movement swift and without hesitation as he ran.

One second elapsed, and Atticus’s gaze snapped towards the man he had predicted would sight him during his run, his hand flickering to the side as a flat stone appeared in his hand.

Without disturbing his momentum, Atticus threw the stone, its form spinning in the air, moving in a curve, reaching its target.

“Hm?” A man at the top of a tower suddenly turned his gaze towards the forest. He thought he felt something hit his suit. Seeing as there was nothing there, he turned and continued his walk, but unfortunately for him, Atticus was already long gone.

Atticus used one of the large heavy artillery as cover and moved carefully around it. One of the reasons he had chosen the west was because of its close proximity to his destination. And he hadn’t been wrong.

‘I just have to get to that artillery, and I’ll have perfect cover to attack,’

Atticus focused on the artillery ahead of him. It was about 10 meters away, and it was a distance he should be able to cross in less than a second.

From his cover, Atticus’s gaze fixed on the towers that were in his line of view. The good news was that as the exchange ended, the interior of the camp was away from their view until they moved, which happened more or less every 10 seconds.

After a few seconds, and checking around to see if anyone was in the area, Atticus’s form shot forward.

But just as he left the cover of the artillery, at the corner of his vision, he suddenly caught sight of two men, donned in purple suits without helmets, coming out from a door that suddenly opened up in the artillery he had just left, their eyes widening as they locked their eyes on him.

Atticus’s gaze narrowed dangerously.

…

A

/N: Hello guys! I’ve noticed y’all are dissatisfied about the current situation of things and I decided to put this note here to address any complaints or questions(no spoilers) you might have. I will respond to everyone to the best of my abilities. So, fire away.

Ps: If it’s about the pacing, I really am trying to speed things up. But honestly I’ve come to realize that this is just how I write. I love adding details(that might seem useless to you) when I’m writing. And if it irks you, this poor author is sorry :(. Ill try my best to ramp up the pace. Btw, how’s the pacing since the start of the summit?

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