Max sprinted down the avenue, his lungs quickly wanting to fail him.
The accumulated stress from running around all day was getting to him, and his D- Strength and E Endurance weren't doing him any favors now.
I need witnesses. A place more public. The Academy won't let a student die on campus.
He changed course toward a gathering of senior students near a fountain, deliberately slowing his pace to appear casual despite his thumping heart.
Getting students involved would probably be more trouble than its worth. It may seem crazy given Max's conduct, but Max would not go as far as to involve innocent bystanders in a situation where his life was literally at stake.
"Excuse me, seniors! Could you point a junior toward a shortcut to the ceremony? I'm running late."
The students turned. A couple of them widened their eyes slightly, a little startled by his appearance. Before one could give Max the directions he needed, a loud shout shattered the air.
"Academy security! Clear the area!"
Two of the attackers approached, red sashes suddenly visible on their arms. They moved with coordination, flanking Max while maintaining a distance.
These bastards. Those sashes are definitely fake.
The students instinctively scattered back, watching him leave.
"What's going on?"
"Should we help the boy out?"
Two of the three students looked to their most reliable friend.
Different from them, he held an expression of disappointment.
"I'm afraid it's merely a junior stirring up mischief. Did you see his bedraggled look? Something must have happened, and the silly student thought he could outrun the Academy enforcers. There's always one at this time of year."
Back to Max, he was still on the run from his pursuers, striking distance was closing in.
"So much for witnesses," he muttered.
And then the distance was breached.
One of the attackers, a young man in his late twenties, flicked his wrist. A whip-like strand of green energy materialized in his hand.
Sensing the air behind him changed, Max glanced back.
He let out a sharp yelp at the sight.
Good to know exactly what I'm up against. The level of being able to manifest mana like that without incantations and a catalyst was Tier 3 Adept. In other words—shit!
Whoosh!
The magical whip lashed out, scorching the ground where he'd stood a split second earlier, cutting his assessment short. He rolled away, scrambling to his feet and breaking into another run.
Out of the corner of his eye, Max noticed the scarred woman standing apart from the others, arms crossed as she observed. Her eyes tracked the movements of her team more than they did Max himself. She nodded slightly when a gaunt-faced man executed a particularly difficult maneuver, then frowned when another stumbled slightly in pursuit.
You got to be messing with me. She's assessing them, not me. Am I fucking training exercise to them?
These attackers weren't just hired muscle. They were an elite team using him for field practice.
This meant their leader thought so little of his chances that she considered it a training opportunity.
Max cut through a narrow passage between two buildings, hoping the confined space would limit their mobility. He'd barely made it halfway when a shadow passed overhead.
A figure landed in front of him with grace.
It was a teenage girl, no older than fifteen, with close-cropped hair. She'd literally run up the wall and flipped over to intercept him, her movements enhanced by the small blue glow of aura at her feet.
Wall-running? Another Tier 3?! No it was too short, probably at least a Tier 2 Disciple with her aura control. Damn she's a talent to be able to do that at her age.
She flashed a childish grin, a contrast to the malice in her eyes.
Max scowled and skidded to a halt. He whirled around to retreat, only to find the entrance blocked by another person.
I'm surrounded.
The teenage girl lunged forward with inhuman speed. Max barely managed to duck her first strike, but her second caught him squarely in the ribs.
CRACK!
"GAHH!!"
"Pathetic," she giggled. "Is this really worth gold?"
Max wiped the blood spilling from his mouth. From behind, he could hear the other one charging forward. Not keen on playing games like the child in front of him.
His hands shook, the tremors causing him to stumble. In that moment of disorientation, his gaze locked onto the decorative lanterns hanging from their heavy chains.
Hope this comes in handy.
With no time to lose, he leapt up and yanked one free, sending it crashing down between him and the girl.
The glass shattered, oil spilling across the stones.
Max snapped his fingers near the pooling oil.
"Lantern Glow," he wheezed.
The spell wasn't meant to create fire.
Just a hovering light.
But with the oil as fuel…
Fwoosh!
A sharp fwoosh erupted as the tiny spark met the oil, quickly blooming into a wall of fire that temporarily blocked the passage.
Both pursuers were forced to halt in their tracks.
Max staggered backward, his hand instinctively going to the emerald cloak still secured around his shoulders.
The wind essence…
With trembling fingers, he quickly channeled his mana into the fabric. The cloak responded instantly, rippling with magical energy as the wind essence activated. Max felt his body lighten, the emerald fabric billowing behind him.
He leapt, and the cloak amplified his movement, sending him soaring upward toward a maintenance ladder built into the wall. He grabbed the rungs, the cloak's power helping him ascend. His broken ribs screamed for every level he rose.
Thank god for this thing. Without it, I'd be caught already.
He hauled himself onto a rooftop, the cloak's power fading. He'd need time to channel more energy into it for another boost, but he didn't have such luxury.
In the distance, he could see students and faculty streaming toward the Serenity Haven. If he could just reach them...
Ffft!
A whistling sound was his only warning.
Max threw himself flat as something streaked over his head, embedding in a wooden beam with a thunk. A dart, its tip glistening with a strange substance.
This... Nah fuck off! Poison? Seriously?
While crawling back slowly, he glanced up to find another person standing on the rooftop. This one was older, perhaps in his late twenties, with a gaunt face and gloved fingers stained green from whatever toxin he'd been handling.
The man moved as if he was measuring the distance, the wind direction…
Such a joke.
The sniper raised his blowpipe again, taking careful aim.
Max rolled behind a chimney stack just as another dart sailed past. His mind thinking nonstop, finding any way to get out of this mess.
His trash mana reserves were running low. His body was already failing him. There was nowhere to run on the rooftop.
Think, Max. Think!
The sniper's footsteps approached slowly, savoring his trapped prey.
"You've led us on quite a chase. Not my forte, but it was a nice change of pace."
As much as Max wanted to curse in rage, he did not respond. He grabbed a handful of loose tiles from the roof and waited.
The moment the sniper rounded the chimney, Max flung the tiles at his face.
The man easily dodged the clumsy attack
—exactly as Max had hoped.
The distraction allowed him to tackle his legs, sending them both sliding down the sloped roof toward the edge.
The Hunter with his trained reflexes did not struggle much to escape.
Max was different.
He plummeted two stories, desperately reaching for a banner line strung between buildings. It tore free under his weight but slowed his fall just enough that when he crashed through a stall's abandoned rooftop, he survived. The impact sent fresh agony through his already broken ribs.
"GAHH!"
Max lay amid the shattered remains of the canopy, struggling to breathe. More waves of pain crashing through his body.
Get up. GET UP!
Somehow, he forced himself to his feet, stumbling forward.
He had to keep moving.
Had to reach people.
Had to—
Ffft!
Something struck his shoulder, spinning him around.
He reached back and pulled out a dart, its reservoir half-empty.
The poison was already entering his system.
"Fuck," he gasped, feeling numbness spreading from the impact site.
He staggered forward, his movements growing clumsy. The world tilted sickeningly around him.
He had minutes, maybe less, before he lost control of his limbs completely.
Through blurring vision, Max spotted a large grouping of people ahead. They were professors heading to the ceremony.
Safety.
Witnesses.
Unlike before, with his condition and their identity as professors…
If he could just reach them...
Another new figure dropped from above, landing directly in his path. It was a muscular man with a shaved head and tattoos. Without hesitation, he drew back a fist that glowed with concentrated aura.
The man slammed his fist into the ground, and the stone beneath Max's feet exploded upward.
Cobblestones sprayed like fireworks.
Tier 3 Warrior.
BAM!