Zensuon: Crystal Age

Best served Cold, but even then, not that tasty

Where Mica finds a part of what he wanted, or perhaps, a part of what he needed.

The irritation in his hands stopped so abruptly, that he ended up running faster for it.

Traveling for so long he wanted the itching to end, and now of all times it did, just when he was going to use it for his own end?

Urrrgh... Styllia must really hate me for living on, but I've had little other choice. Besides, anyone else in my position would've made the same deal.

Maybe Siegfried wouldn't, but he's dead, so that proves my point.

All he could feel now, faintly, was a tingling sensation toward where all the elves were stationed at the back of his palms, and the last time he was near some elves they tried to kill him. They killed the mage, thank Styllia, but somehow he got away. He was hoping no one was following him.

He arrived at a dense part of the forest. Morning had just started, and there were no signs of elves anywhere. He was only a bit winded even though he was running all night. He was no longer surprised at his endurance and physical capabilities at this point.

He stopped and listened to the wind. Things that masters who spent years doing, he could now do on a whim, just by understanding the basics.

It was so easy to hear now that there was a figure behind the nearby hill. The figure seemed to be patrolling back and forth. The way the wind was blowing told him it was in a path between two small ridges that was probably hard to see through the forest, with how densely the wind flowed through it. A perfect place to hide. Here he'll find what was his, and what should've been his from the start.

He walked a large circle around the spot where he heard the patrolling creature, never dropping the effect of his keen hearing. Even if each step he took on the leaves felt like a loud crunch to him. He made sure the wind carried the sound away, so none of it came toward the guarding figure which he could not yet see.

He reached a position far enough where he hoped most creatures ill-equipped with magic items and magical abilities created by strange contracts could not see, and stopped.

He focused his vision toward where he heard the figure. He could see it.

An orc. It wasn't Nuraka, but yellow or brown or brownish yellow, and smaller. He also had an eye-patch. What kind of orc has an eye-patch? For some reason, he felt somewhat peeved. Was it because he was looking to find the greenskin, or was it because he couldn't handle the fact that orcs had customs that people had?

It doesn't matter. What was more important right now was to knock him unconscious so he could find the crystal.

The sound of his sling stretching struck his ear. He had to focus. The moment he released it, he would drop the obscuring wind and focus it on the shot. It was easy to execute one of these feats quite perfectly, but trying two at the same time was still taxing on him. Again, was it that he didn't have enough of whatever new energy was fueling him by this contract, or that he needed the greater understanding masters had? He couldn't quite answer that himself yet. Maybe if it was a simple execution... No time now. The yellowskin is looking over here, before he finds me, I have to shoot. A bump on his head should knock him out cold.

In an instant, he switched between the two.

So fast that the stone created a shock of wind where it struck.

Sadly, it wasn't at the target.

The one-eyed orc seemed to phase through the incoming rock and ended up some meters to the left. The orc's one eye gazed up. To Mica's exact location. The orc then started running like the wind.