"One of you will stay with me; the rest will carry the injured and continue. After we buy enough time, we will follow," Armani commanded as he equipped his bow.
"I will stay. Go so we can leave faster." The old hunter volunteered while urging the other two to move on.
The other hunters nodded, took their wounded member, and then left.
Whoos.
Another sound pierced through the air.
Knowing an enemy skilled with a bow hid nearby, Armani was ready. With a quick flick of his hand, he shot an arrow, targeting the arrow heading towards his escaping members.
With great accuracy, the green-haired leader had succeeded in splitting the enemy's arrow right in the middle.
"The enemy is on our left! Intercept!" Armani jumped, trying to face their hidden foe.
As they charged, multiple arrows flew at them while the ambusher tried to retreat.
The man had curly black hair, wore a dirty loincloth, and had unknown symbols tattooed all over his body. Unlike the Blood Hunters, the paint on his face only covered the upper half, and his body was unhealthy, as if deprived of food for days. He appeared young, probably 19 to 20 years old.
The two Phantom Hunters zigzagged behind trees, turning themselves into difficult targets.
"A Blood Tribe's slave," Ira uttered, the concern in his face evident with the creasing between his brows.
"It does not matter," the foxlike man declared. "We have to neutralize him and leave as fast as possible. We do not want to be between enemies. Confront him in close combat; I will support you from the rear."
Without confirmation, the old hunter utilized the Phantom Steps, instantly reaching the slave.
Surprised, the enemy turned his back and tried to hasten his pace. However, Armani shot an arrow towards the escape route of the slave, halting him for a second.
The old hunter took the opportunity and engaged, preventing the foe from making another attempt.
Aware that his bow wouldn't be effective in close quarters, the slave pulled a stone knife from his waist and defended himself with great effort.
At 52 years old, even with his lackluster fighting capability, Ira had accumulated enough experience throughout his life to know that it would only be a matter of time before he won. But that wasn't enough.
Time wasn't on their side. Therefore, he used a swift combo of thrusts and spear sweeps to finish the fight without a second of rest.
Overwhelmed by the barrage of attacks, the slave was slowly pushed back. Still, it was baffling that he had managed to last so long with two enemies, with only a dagger and a bow.
Nevertheless, the slave's luck ran out as an arrow pierced his right shoulder, interrupting him for a bit.
That small window was enough for the old hunter to end the battle. He rotated his body, boosting the power of his sweep.
His spear crashed into the slave's waist with a sickening crack, sending him flying into a tree where he crumbled, unconscious.
"Let us leave," Armani ordered, placing his bow behind him.
He threw one final glance at the slave on the ground and then quickly disappeared into the distance.
After a few minutes, another group of people arrived, the Blood Hunters.
The one leading marched to the sleeping man and kicked him hard in his stomach. "Wake up!"
The leader was a young man between the ages of 15 and 17 years old. He had short orange hair like a dancing flame in the wind, complemented by his painted face, looking like a sun burning in uncontrollable fury.
The slave abruptly opened his eyes as the electrifying pain crawled throughout his body.
*Cough* Cough
"Where are they, you useless piece of shit?" the young leader continuously stomped on the slave while screaming his lungs out. "I brought you here, thinking you have skills, to give you a chance to prove yourself, and this is how you will repay me?!"
The slave couldn't utter a word as the devastating injury in his side crippled his movement, making it harder to breathe.
"Should I just kill your sister? If this is all you can do, I do not think you are worth keeping as a pet!" The orange-haired young man threatened.
Hearing this, the slave endured the pain and knelt before the raging young man, grabbing his feet as he begged. "Please, give me another chance. I will catch more people!"
"I do not want more people!" The young leader stepped on the back of the kneeling man. "I want those people! They almost killed me with that spear throw! I want them dead! Find them and their tribe! I will torture them myself and let them watch while I eat the hearts of their loved ones!"
"I understand," the slave said in a hoarse voice.
With much effort, he stood, pulled the arrow embedded in his shoulder, and ran towards where Armani and the others had escaped.