CHAPTER 36

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Although it was not the first time that Isaia had met someone in knightly attire, that occasion seemed to him out of the ordinary.

It was not out of bounds, being a kind of cosplay and childishness, because there were only two persons and it could be their special fetish and caprice at the moment of meeting. But when there are more than a dozen mounted horsemen in knightly garb nearby, one has to put up with the strangeness of the situation without the possibility of reducing it to silly games with disguises.

Furthermore, it seemed to Isaia that the outfits of these riders were of high quality, something the first two that the young man had encountered shortly after waking up in this strange place could not boast of.

What was also remarkable was the payoff his magical ability was receiving. The manipulation of blood gave off the same sensations from these riders as it did from boars and other large animals. The trio encountered a few days earlier felt like bonfires, by the "call" of magical ability, these ones couldn't boast of such a thing. Isaia kept wondering if he would get as much energy from them as he did from that trio, if they seemed so different by sensation.

The horses themselves, by the young man's estimation must contain even more blood than the largest boar he had come across as prey. What would happen to absorb the blood of these men, Isaia couldn't estimate, but it wasn't worth checking here and now. Nor was he saddened that the riders were gone.

It would be less of a headache, as it was too difficult for him to take decisive action against such a large group, and warriors at that.

Of course, there was always the option of going to extreme measures, such as an ambush, but it was quite reasonable to understand that testing the limits of one's abilities in such a situation would be foolish.

Maybe the blood manipulation would only be enough for five, maybe even more, but Isaia knew one thing for sure, the three opponents previously were no match for the fourteen armed and most likely more trained riders.

One of them might do something unexpected, like shoot an arrow directly into the young man's eye, and he had no desire to see if his brain would be regenerated.

Having calmed down and survived such an eventful day, Isaia continued his grueling task of waiting.

Using the blood manipulation, he managed to stay out of trouble by not contacting this group led by an unknown target, but there was still no good reason to abandon his own plan.

The fear of being on the plains and being chased by mounted pursuers made it necessary to conceal his whereabouts and identity even more carefully.

The way to secrecy was to be well disguised and inconspicuous, which required getting what the people here wore and speaking the way the people here were accustomed to.

Isaia changed his tactics and began to move around the edge of the forest, in turn staying a little further away from the places he had hunted before so as not to attract too much attention.

He tried to constantly check his surroundings by manipulation of blood, but it was impossible to do so all the time, so he did not notice that several carcasses left in different places had disappeared.

Apparently, the wolves were slowly finding the animals the young man had killed. The need for carcasses disappeared though, and so the lad did not care about the fate of the exsanguinated sources of his endurance.

Each day spent in mere wanderings and thoughts turned the whole process into a endless torture. But with the emergence of such thoughts Isaia quickly looked around like a scalded man, afraid to cause the wrath of fate, which again could throw out something like a squad of mounted riders.

Perhaps it was the constant changing of positions, but on the fourth day of his wait, Isaia found a potential target that fit many criteria. First, the target was alone, not requiring getting rid of his companions. Secondly, he wasn't wearing expensive or high-quality clothes, which meant that he wasn't an important figure and it was unlikely that anyone with great influence would notice that he was missing.

This was also the reason why Isaia had not acted on the case of the horsemen. Warriors are often in service to someone or something, which means they are on a fairly strict registry.

The loss would be easily noticed and a search organized accordingly, which Isaia wanted to avoid with every fiber of his being. At least until he had mastered the language and could pretend to be their own.

The one encountered was a middle-aged man, with dark, unkempt-looking hair and beard. He was dressed in cheap rags, almost identical to those worn by the thieves who had attacked during the previous encounter, perhaps only slightly better.

The stranger was carrying a basket of some sort, obviously made from the twigs of some plant. For sensible reasons, Isaia did not act immediately, packing his potential hostage on the spot.

Instead, he was patient and watched the unknown man, justifying to himself that if he could wait a number of days, he would be able to wait for a few more short periods of time.

All sorts of factors could not be ruled out, perhaps he was going to meet someone in the forest or had some other agenda that caused him to visit the forest.

If it was the former, his disappearance might be reported. Accordingly, it was necessary to be patient and take a little time to finally understand target's intentions, at least to try to guess them from his behavior.

After watching for a while, Isaia concluded that it was a simple mushroom picker, for he was often digging in the dirt and collecting these parasitic plants.

Of course, Isaia was ignorant as to whether mushrooms were really parasites, but the fact that they could grow on still living vegetation, particularly on trees, and what he had once heard about parasitic mushrooms, made him, in his simple and philistine way of thinking, classify the whole kingdom as such.