Decision

Swords clash with a sound akin to the thunderous collapse of a star, each meeting of metal birthing echoes that dance wildly amongst the trembling trees. Leaves whirl in frenetic dances, as if trying to escape the earth-shaking confrontation below.

Aira uses her lithe fingers to expertly adjust her sword's position as she sidesteps an assault from the side. She blocks, a motion as fluid as it is sudden, and the resulting shockwave from the impact hurls her backward. Yet, she lands with the poise of a seasoned warrior, her eyes gleaming with an unvoiced thought: 'These criminals are weak.' She leaps back, her movements a blur, embodying the relentless spirit of the wind.

In stark contrast, Caelir, besieged from all angles by the ruthless onslaught of two different blades, exhibits a ballet of evasion. His diminutive stature, far from a hindrance, proves to be his greatest asset, enabling him to weave through the deadly dance with the ease of a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. Eventually, seeking respite, he ascends to the sanctuary of a tree branch, lounging with deceptive casualness. "Hey bro, do we really have to do this?" he asks, his tone a mix of resignation and mild annoyance.

Kael responds with a languid yawn, the embodiment of detachment. "Sorry, but I promised him they could be used as test subjects," he states, his gaze drifting lazily toward Oliver. The criminals, momentarily puzzled, direct their attention toward the young alchemist. "Those kids are too scared to help you, huh?" taunts the one marred by a sinister scar, his voice a venomous sneer.

Oliver, however, merely smirks, a disturbing glee twinkling in his eyes. "Ah~ this is great. I don't have to worry about hurting you since you're all criminals~" With a swift, deliberate motion, he hurls a potion to the ground, conjuring a smokescreen that swallows the clearing in an instant. "Huh? Where did you go, you little pest!?" one of the outlaws growls, his confusion palpable amidst the encroaching fog.

Appearing behind the shortest criminal, Oliver, with a mischievous grin splitting his face douses the man with a potion, prompting a bewildered exclamation from the victim, "What the he—" But his sentence breaks, splintering into horror as he gazes downward. "Mhmhmhahahaha, I feel amazing! I've never felt so energized! I feel like I can sprint a marathon," he exclaims, delirious with an unfounded euphoria.

His companion whirls around, eyes widening in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about? Ah!! Your face!" The words die in his throat as he witnesses the gruesome transformation; the affected criminal's face begins to disintegrate, "What do you..." his features melting away like wax before the horrified gaze of his ally. With a final, pitiful sigh, he collapses, his body nothing more than a mound of deformed flesh.

Oliver frowns, the light of scientific curiosity flickering in his eyes as he scribbles notes. "Tsk, why is it so difficult to make a week-lasting stamina potion?" he mutters, his tone laced with frustration and the relentless drive of a researcher on the cusp of a breakthrough.

The remaining criminals, fueled by a blend of rage and terror, launch themselves blindly into the smoky veil, their threats punctuated by desperation: "We're going to kill you, you crazy brat!"

With a heavy exhale, betraying the weight of his actions, Oliver speaks, a hint of regret lacing his tone, "Hey, I didn't want to kill him, but you know, he got unlucky. The potion wasn't supposed to do that." His request for space, "Back up, please," sends Kael retreating with a resigned sigh.

"Come on, Aira, come on, Caelir, he's going to do something dangerous," Kael announces, steering them away from the imminent danger. Caelir, ever the thinker, strokes his chin, his mind racing. 'He tried making a week-lasting stamina potion? That's absurd,' he muses silently, his analytical mind dissecting Oliver's methods. 'Every alchemist knows the main ingredient, condensed slime, extends the duration of stamina potions. But in large quantities, it's lethal to most living beings, except orcs and goblins.'

"What is he going to do?" Caelir voices aloud, his curiosity piqued yet coated with a hint of apprehension. Kael, leaning against a tree, shrugs off the question, "Who knows, he's a hardcore alchemist, so it's probably something stupid."

His thoughts drift to Lúthien, imagining her in the thick of her own battles. 'Lúthien is most likely fighting by now. There's been a lot of changes in the story. She is supposed to have a hard time, but since I was sent to this side, Lúthien and Isabella are likely near each other. If those two work together, they should be able to deal with those two guys who are planning to torture her. The forest can be split into four sections; we are in the top left, and since Isabella hasn't found us, she's most likely in the bottom right, the same place Lúthien was teleported in.' he contemplates, nibbling nonchalantly on a snack.

Meanwhile, Oliver delves into his pouch, retrieving a face mask etched with ancient runes. With a swift motion, he unleashes a green potion onto the ground, enveloping the area in a noxious mist. The criminals, now disoriented and panicked, flail their weapons in a futile attempt to disperse the creeping fog. But soon, their movements falter as they clutch at their chests, collapsing to their knees, their skin bubbling and mutating into an unnatural purple hue.

Oliver clicks his tongue. "Dammit, fail after fail," he voices under his breath, the words barely escaping as he frantically records his findings. His handwriting, a mix of haste and precision, mirrors the turmoil of his thoughts: 'Healing mist complete fail, the concentration is too high—'

But then, his analytical process comes to an abrupt halt. The grim reality before him demands his full attention. With a methodical calmness that belies the chaos of his surroundings, he dons a protective glove, an action both deliberate and necessary. He approaches the criminals, now reduced to mere subjects of his failed experiment, lying vulnerable on the forest floor.

Oliver's examination is thorough, detached from any semblance of empathy; he lifts their eyelids, inspecting the dullness that has replaced the spark of life. His fingers pry open their mouths, revealing the unsettling truth within. The notes he had been scribbling morph into silent observations, etched deeply in his mind: 'causing complete organ failure and melting all sensitive organs.'

"Tsk, if only I could get a mage or swordsman. Their bodies are stronger, and they'd probably react differently," he mumbles to himself, lost in the morbid fascination of his alchemical pursuits.

Amid the chaos, Aira's fingers dance across the surface of her holographic screen, a beacon of modernity in the primitive wilderness. Her thoughts, previously scattered, begin to converge with newfound purpose. 'Oliver... I've been ignoring him given his obsession with alchemy, but his potions can be used in some interesting ways...'

Without warning, her expression shifts from contemplation to concern. "Um, V... we have a problem," she announces, initiating a video call with a sense of urgency that slices through the calm. Kael, drawn by the gravity in her tone, approaches with an inquisitive frown. "What do you mean?"

The screen flickers to life, revealing Isabella's frustrated countenance. Clutching at her neck, she exudes a blend of fury and desperation. "Dammit!" she explodes, her voice a tempest of anger. "V! It's your fault! Why the hell is there a criminal hunting you?" Her words, sharp as knives, carve a wave of confusion through Kael.

Raising an eyebrow, he attempts to interject, "A criminal hunting me? What? I don't unde—" But his words are swiftly cut off as Isabella continues, the frustration evident in her clenched fists. "That bastard knocked me out," she seethes, the revelation igniting a firestorm of questions in Kael's mind. "He was going to take me, but he took Kaida after she told him she knew you. You know how weak that commoner is."

Kael's mind whirls, a tumultuous sea of thoughts and emotions as he internally groans, 'What the hell is going on...?' His contemplation is abruptly interrupted by the intrusive ping of a system notification.

[❃Congratulations!❃]

[You're being hunted! You sure know how to anger people!]

[New Task!]

[The criminal originally planned on kidnapping Isabella to kill her off later. However, Kaida, with her pure soul, decided to replace Isabella. The criminal will not kill her for the next 24 hours as he searches for you]

[Save Kaida before the 24-hour mark in a heroic fashion (I doubt you're capable of that)]

[Reward] ➙ [calculating]

[A map to an unknown Ruin]

[It will be a random pick, possibly good, possibly bad]

Kael exhales deeply, his frustration palpable. 'Hmm... no points? If I'm the target, that means Lúthien won't be tortured. Fuck, I expected them to target me during my visits to the city. Pfff, what a joke. Do they seriously think Lúthien and I are dating?' He ponders, trying to sift through the chaos of the situation, tapping his chin in thought.

Aira, impatient and riddled with concern, snaps him back to reality. "Hey V, stop zoning out, this is serious. Kaida is in trouble. We don't know how long she'll be kept alive, but we have to save her." she presses, her voice laden with a seriousness that brooks no argument.

"We need to meet up right now. Although she's just a commoner, she was willing to replace me. I won't let her die," Isabella states, annoyance tinging her words as she massages her neck, turning to Kael with a look that brooks no argument. Aira, observing Kael's reaction, muses to herself, 'He seems surprised, so he doesn't know this criminal. Given his relationship with Lúthien, it's likely an elf wants him dead but they can't act on their own, so they hired a criminal.' She then addresses Kael directly, "V, I know you're not close to any of us, but you're indirectly responsible for this. You're going to help, right?" Her tone is calm, yet the question hangs heavily in the air. 'What will you do V... What type of person are you?' 

Stretching his limbs, Kael replies with a hint of indignation, "What do you take me for? I'm obviously going to help." Nearby, Caelir, who has been quietly leaning against a tree, chimes in with a nonchalant, "I'll tag along, but don't expect me to help. If it's too dangerous, I will disappear." Kael acknowledges his stance with a nod. "Sure, we won't force you to help."

In the midst of this planning, Oliver, who had been absorbed in writing notes, trips and falls to the ground with a grumbled, "Ugh... fuck." Picking himself up, he adds, "Thanks for the subjects; we can leave now." Kael then addresses the challenge at hand, turning back to Isabella. "The forest is huge. The whole point is to keep students from finding each other. Elves will stay away from us since most criminals are humans and they were all given normal clothing to blend in. Finding Kaida could take days, but Biana should be able to track her down."

Isabella's face scrunches up in disdain. "Ugh... that lazy woman. How are we going to find her?" At that moment, Kael checks his messages, finding one that reads:

[I'm going to fight Biana, find me before I accidentally kill her]

'Um... I feel bad, not for them but for those around them. Biana is more than capable of dealing with Lysandra's thirst. Even though Lysandra is stronger in nearly all fields, Biana is tricky. Her processing speed is monstrous, the only way for Lysandra to kill her is if she does it in one hit.' he contemplates, a hint of exasperation evident in his thoughts. Looking up, he states decisively, "She's with Lysandra. I'll head to Lysandra right now, track our location, and meet up with us." Isabella clicks her tongue in annoyance but concedes, "Fine." With a swift click, she ends the call.