Slave traders III

Darius moved swiftly through the dense forest, each step carefully measured as he made his way toward the edge of the woods. His instincts told him to remain vigilant. He kept his head low, staying beneath the cover of the trees to avoid the sharp eyes of the wyverns circling overhead. The weight of what he had done lingered in his mind—the freed captives, the chaos he had left behind—but there was no time for regret. His focus was on escaping undetected. In the grand schemes of duterra Darius was still a small fry, if his involvement in freeing the slaves become known to the people who are waiting for them, his life is pretty much over.

The cool air of twilight brushed against his skin as he pushed forward, his senses alert to any movement. The forest was eerily silent, the sounds of battle fading in the distance. Darius allowed himself a small breath of relief, thinking that perhaps he had escaped danger. But just as that thought crossed his mind, a chilling presence washed over him. His heart skipped a beat, and his hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his sword.

Emerging from the shadows ahead was a figure cloaked in darkness. Most likely a high-ranking member of the demonic humans. His aura was suffocating, thick with malevolent energy that distorted the air around him. I could feel the power radiating from the figure, and a deep sense of foreboding settled in his chest.

The demonic human's eyes gleamed with a predatory glint, his voice dripping with malice. "So, you're the one who caused all that trouble at the camp. Why didn't I sense you when you entered my barrier? And your mana… How very peculiar."

"Damn it," I cursed under his breath. Somehow, my ability to peer into the future was not working now. 'This ability probably has a cooldown period before it can work again,' I thought, frustrated.

'The demonic human standing before me is probably stronger than the slave trader's leader'. I began weighing my options. Running would be futile; the power gap was too great; He would catch up to me in a second. I had no choice but to engage even though it was a losing battle. I had no choice left. The thought of dying in a strange world made me feel sick especially after going through all the trouble to get here. Determined to survive in this second life and to make the most of what I couldn't back in my own world. I began to steel my resolve and prepare for the upcoming battle.

As i steadied myself, the demonic human locked eyes with me. The eerie silence between us only added to the tension. I knew that combat in this world wasn't about brute strength alone—it was a test of mana mastery, technique, and skill. As I prepared for the fight, I recalled the combat level from this world:

- **Novice**: The beginner stage, where mana control is basic and technique undeveloped. Everyone with mana goes through this phase before advancing.

- **Intermediate**: Where you start honing your skills, but true mastery is still far off. At this stage, you begin to get a feel for mana, raising your proficiency with your techniques.

- **Expert**: Combatants at this level have refined their control over mana and have begun mastering their techniques. Furthermore, they start enhancing mana with their will.

- **Master**: Warriors who have mastered their abilities, blending mana and technique seamlessly. Most people reach their limit here. Mana users at this stage can manifest their willpower to reinforce their skills.

- **Grandmaster**: Those who have perfected their abilities, able to manifest their will entirely through mana. At this stage, they can manifest their will to their surroundings to reach this level, and many of the elemental masters descended from this tier.

- **Supreme**: The pinnacle of power—where fighters can bend reality itself with their mana and will. Only a handful have reached this level, most joining the council to oversee their nations.

The leader of the slave traders had been an Intermediate, but this demonic human, he felt closer to an Expert, maybe even higher. Meanwhile, I couldn't wield mana at all, which put me at a serious disadvantage. No enhanced senses to detect mana fluctuations, nothing to anticipate his moves. The gap in our abilities was huge—but giving up was never an option for me.

The demonic human smirked. "Boy, how did you pass my barrier without alerting my senses? If you answer honestly, I might consider sparing your life."

I narrowed my eyes. 'Why isn't he attacking yet?' I wondered. 'Demonic humans usually can't wait to torture or kill. Is he being cautious?' It dawned on me—he couldn't sense my mana, because I had none. He couldn't tell if I was stronger or weaker. To him, I could be suppressing a vast mana reserve or have none at all. He didn't want to take any chances.

A flicker of confidence surged through me. I decided to play on his uncertainty. "That answer will do you no good, Demon" I said coldly, gripping my sword with steady hands. "I'll kill you, anyways" My voice dripped with venom, a calculated mix of truth and bluff.

I took a step forward, my voice deadly calm. "How about you tell me, who are your allies in the human domain that are helping you and I let you live?"

The demonic human's grin faltered, suspicion creeping into his eyes. "You're well-versed in our tactics… My spies didn't report any holy knights nearby, which makes you either an undercover member of the League of Arcana or a demon hunter, doesn't it?"

Without warning, he surged forward, his blade crackling with dark energy as it sliced toward my head. I barely ducked in time, the blade whistling past close enough to shear a lock of my hair. Rolling to the side, I sprang to my feet and retaliated with a swift strike aimed at his midsection.

Our blades clashed with a deafening sound, sparks flying as he parried my sword effortlessly. He was fast—blindingly so. His movements were fluid, precise in ways no human could match. Gritting my teeth, I blocked another attack, my arm vibrating from the force. Each blow felt like a hammer, pushing me back inch by inch.

"Not bad for a human with barely any mana! HAHAHAHA!" he sneered, lunging again. I deflected the strike, but the impact nearly tore the sword from my hands.

Sweat dripped down my face as I spun away, trying to create some distance, but he pressed forward relentlessly. Another strike, this time aimed at my legs. I leaped back, but not fast enough. The blade grazed my thigh, cutting through cloth and skin. Pain flared, but I forced myself to stay focused, pushing the sting aside.

"You're not from the League, are you?" His voice was mocking. "If you were, you wouldn't be this sloppy. Just some unlucky passerby, then? Someone who doesn't know when they're outmatched!"

He thrust his sword again, dark energy crackling around the blade. I sidestepped, but he was faster—too fast. Before I could react, burning pain shot through my side as a hidden dagger pierced my waist. He had used the earlier clash as a distraction.

Gasping, I felt my vision blur as he twisted the dagger, releasing poison into my bloodstream. His smile widened, sadistic. "I won't figure out how you got past my barrier now, but no matter. Once the poison takes hold, I'll bring you back to headquarters. A little torture will loosen your tongue."

I staggered backward, gripping my sword with all the strength I could muster despite the growing numbness. Swinging wildly, desperation fueled my attacks. He dodged effortlessly, toying with me, savoring my helplessness.

For a brief moment, I managed to put some distance between us, but I knew it wouldn't last. My breaths were coming in ragged gasps, each one more difficult than the last. The poison was working fast, sapping my strength. My vision began to narrow, darkness creeping in.

The demonic human raised his blade for the final blow, a wicked grin on his face.

**Whoosh! **

An arrow whistled through the air, embedding itself in his shoulder. The force knocked him back, and he roared in pain and fury.

Blinking in disbelief, I looked toward the trees. Through the dim light, I saw a group of elves with their bows drawn, arrows ready. Among them was the elf I'd freed from the slave traders' camp. Her bow was still aimed at the demonic human.

He snarled, clutching the arrow embedded in his shoulder. "You got lucky this time, human. Next time, I won't be so lenient."

"STOP HIM!" the elven leader shouted, but before the arrows could fly again, the demonic human hurled a strange orb to the ground. Shadows enveloped him, and within moments, he vanished.

The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was the elves running toward me, their voices fading as darkness swallowed me whole.