Alan forcibly froze in place, his dash interrupted by a hand. This hand latched onto Alan’s left shoulder, gripping with such intensity it nearly shattered his bone, had he not instinctively counterattacked. His hand balled into a fist, mana coalescing into it, as it slammed into the chest of the criminal. The man chuckled,
“Do you really think this would do dama-” His words turned to a groan as mana surged through his skin and muscles, shooting towards his mana core. Although not powerful enough to cause serious damage, the mana Alan shot through, allowed for a temporary paralysis. The man's fingers twitched slightly, loosening just enough for Alan to escape, and draw his katana in a powerful slash, splattering blood as the blade sliced partially into the man’s forearm.
[Congratulations!]
[New Technique Unlocked]
[Paralyzing Fist]
My body moved on its own there. Alan thought, recovering his focus, and waving away the blue screen, I guess I can still use whatever techniques I know, or at least that this body can perform.
“You’re quite strong. But you seem surprised at my power,” The man said, examining the cut on his forearm that seemed to drip blood without any sign of stopping. The rhythmic blood splattering resounded throughout the room as Alan’s mind raced.
“Who are you exactly?” Alan questioned, attempting to stall for time.
“Name’s Orulo. Burn that into your memory, 'cause I’m gonna kill you.” Orulo yelled, squatting down, preparing for an attack. The dirt ground cracked beneath his feet and he exploded forward, fist extended, a thin coat of red energy sticking to it. Wind stabbed into Alan’s cheek as he dodged, a titanic burst of air flowing out of Orulo’s closed hand, the dirt wall directly opposite cracking from the force.
That must be his special technique, Alan thought, letting out a breath, luckily it isn’t too much to handle. Maybe if I’m lucky it’s restricted enough so that taking out his hands will prevent him from using the technique.
Alan ducked down, planting his feet firmly, gripping his katana with both hands, “Dance of Wind,” he whispered, channeling mana through his veins and muscles, maneuvering in such a refined way to perform this technique. Alan’s katana carried him in a fluid motion, his body stepping and dodging like a performance of the highest degree. His body flowed like the wind, the tip of his sword effortlessly slashing through Orulo’s outstretched forearm, pulling Alan around and to the side. In a flash, he was now a good meter or two behind Orulo. A wet splat echoed around, as an arm landed on the ground, pools of blood spilling from the stump. The same crimson liquid also splattered down Orulo’s neck, as the limit of what Alan was able to achieve in the second slash was a shallow cut.
“You bastard, you nearly cut off my head,” Orulo’s eyes widened, gripping the stump of his right arm, attempting to slow the bleeding, but to no avail. The dripping continued, a pool of blood quickly forming around Orulo’s feet. However, Alan’s state was no better.
“So close-” Alan coughed up blood, his arms shattering, muscles ripped from the usage of Dance of Wind.
[Congratulations!]
[New Technique Unlocked]
[Dance of Wind]
Although an effective technique, one Alan primarily used in Bronze to Gold stage during his past lives, the toll taken on the body of one still in the Foundation realm was immense. Differences between stages were already tremendous, and the differences between Grades were vast as well. But the strength someone in the foundation stage, and bronze stage had was even greater. Alan’s body simply couldn’t withstand the force of the technique, and nearly all of his mana had been wrung out in an instant.
“Fuck,” Alan grumbled, grip releasing, his katana falling to the ground with a clatter. Luckily, the damage to his legs was not nearly as bad, I had to risk it. I couldn’t think of any other way. If I just keep running, this guy should bleed out and die soon.
Blood continued to patter against the rough dirt like rainfall. Alan turned, eyeing Orulo, waiting for his next attack.
“You bastard, what did you do?” Orulo yelled, charging once again, his fury palpable. The muscles in Alan’s arm too damaged to move, swung flimsily as he sidestepped a punch, air rushing past his face. Wind surged, obliterating the damaged throne, and cracking the dirt behind it. As Orulo moved, a trail of blood followed, and his skin became visibly pale.
This time, he followed up with a kick, spinning around on his back leg, aiming for Alan’s skull. This however was a telegraphed attack, moving obviously in Alan’s eyes, he knew precisely the direction of it, slipping swiftly as he dodged the kick of someone lacking martial prowess.
“Just die!” Orulo burst out in frustration, unable to touch even a hair on Alan’s disheveled body, blood continuing to flow like a dam had burst. Orulo’s movements became visibly slower, and his strikes weaker, the paleness of his skin much more apparent. The oppressive aura he released became manageable even for the chubby man in a suit, who had collapsed to his knees, most likely having wet himself.
Exchange after exchange continued, Alan growing similarly exhausted, but Orulo, unable to go on any longer, drew out as much strength as he could for a final attack. He let out a cry, drawing his remaining fist back. Alan prepared to dodge, just as he had been doing, but his legs didn’t listen. Disobeying his command, he fell to his knees, the world spinning around even from such a weak impact. Orulo drew closer, his special technique ready to be released upon Alan’s marred features.
“Die-” Orulo was just out of arms reach as his legs gave out, and his muscles failed, falling to the ground with a thud, face slamming into dirt. Spurts of blood continued to burst out, swiftly forming a pool of blood around, certainly drowning Orulo had he not already perished.
“That was close,” Alan sighed, gritting his teeth as tremendous pain rushed through his body.
[Congratulations!]
[Souls being absorbed from a successful battle!]
[Total souls acquired: 543]
Alan’s eyes widened, surprised at the high number. Recalling what he received from utilizing only 141 souls, a fire exploded within his heart as it began to beat against his ribs.
A memory shot back into his mind, and his gaze darted to the chubby man, whose shaking arms pushed him to his feet, mouth still agape.
“Who are you,” Alan released killing intent, his intense glare boring holes into the man. The ferocity of a predator, even in his weakened state, still sent shivers down the man's spine, urging him to say nothing but the truth.
“I-I’m a merchant,” the man's voice quivered, “My name is Gherardo Figiovanni. I run the Vosrak merchant group.” Gherardo waited for Alan to speak, but silence prompted him to continue, “Orulo and his group threatened me, and, ah…forced me to acquire funds for their group, and give them supplies.” Alan was quiet for a moment, lost in thought,
“How successful were you?” Alan replied, keeping a powerful glare on Gherardo,
“Why-” Gherardo paused, almost blurted out a question, but stopped himself, “I would say I acquired around 10 gold coins worth of money.” Gherardo chuckled nervously, afraid he would be roped into another criminal organization and threatened for his life almost daily.
“How long did that take?” Alan answered with another question. Gherardo sighed, certain his own merchant group would take a massive hit after spending even more time and resources funding a good-for-nothing. Although the man before him was powerful, such strength was common closer to the capital,
“About two weeks.” Gherardo saw Alan’s eyes widen, and a light grin revealed his milky white teeth, “Sir, please-”
“Don't worry, I’m not gonna do what Orulo did.” Alan blurted out before Gherardo could continue, “You are clearly an exceptional merchant, one I would very much like to have on my side. I simply want to make a deal.” Gherardo’s heart began to beat with relief, and a deep curiosity replaced his helplessness.
“What deal would you like to make?” Gherardo’s face changed. His eyes became sharper, and his body looser.
“If I’m able to reach Bronze Grade 4 in one week, I would like you to sponsor me.” Alan suppressed his killing intent and released his intense glare. When making a deal with a merchant like Gherardo, forcing it from fear and threats will only hinder the potential gains from such a relationship.
“Oh?” A light grin played across Gherardo's lips. Alan noticed this, becoming more amused at the change this man exhibited while discussing a deal.
Gherardo continued, “To make such a deal, you clearly have a way of achieving it. But it is certainly hard to believe. I won't deny the incredible skill you showed though.”
Gherardo seemed to be in deep thought, staring up at the ceiling,
“Deal. In one week I’ll meet you at the Golden Goose Inn and bring a high-quality mana core stone just to make sure you aren't lying. I trust you, and you have my utmost thanks for freeing me.” Gherardo bowed,
“But, Orulo was only a small part of the Red Lion organization, and I’m sure the higher-ups will find out about you soon enough. They are certainly a formidable group. I just have to be sure you will continue to grow strong enough to protect yourself.”
Alan smiled, “Don’t worry, my growth won't be stopping any time soon.” He flicked his head toward the pile of boxes in one corner, “Do those boxes have the money.”
Gherardo nodded, “And some supplies. As do the boxes in the previous room.”
“I’m sure you have some people to help you. Take all the money and supplies. I’ll only take around twenty silver. I’ll also be staying down here for a few hours to heal, so by noon tomorrow I should be gone. You can collect everything then.”
“Once again, thank you very much.” Gherardo bowed, “And, what should I call you?”
“Alan,”
“I’ll get going then, Alan. See you in a week.” Gherardo smiled, walking to the large door. He struggled to open it, eventually squeezing through a small crack he created, waving goodbye, before it slammed shut.
“Finally…” Alan sighed, “I hope I get something good,” His eyes focused on the blue screen in front of him.
[How many souls would you like to use?]
“543” He blurted out excitedly.
