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That low-perennial had no soul art. But he could see what happened to the downed perennial and could easily recognize the strange pressure must’ve been from the drake’s soul art.

With the perennial gorilla at his back and the mortal drake in front, the low-perennial assassin took the simplest, wisest bet. To defend and strike at the drake as fast as possible. Otherwise, with only water essence, the low-perennial might be slowed just enough for the gorilla to catch up.

The fiery early-perennial noticed what was happening as well. And a different set of options had been thrust upon him.

He was the furthest from the gorilla in that scenario, giving him the best chance and the most time to back away to safety should his assassin companion fall and stall the beast’s charge. That was the first choice he could take.

But the fuming, flaming assassin also saw how the drake was aiming for his companion as well. It was the first time the flaming perennial had an easy target of the drake. And with everything that had happened, killing the drake was not only a priority but a raging necessity.

So the early-perennial made the easiest choice of them all.

Stopping where he stood, the early-perennial assassin unleashed a torrent of flames aimed straight for the drake and the low-perennial! The flames spread wide to encompass a huge space and keep the drake from escaping yet again.

“What are you doing?!” spat the low-perennial. Just when he gathered essence to strike down the mortal drake, he suddenly had to defend himself from the surprise, AOE attack of his ally! All with the gorilla about to breathe down his neck!

.....

But the low-perennial hastily acted to try and flip the situation in his favor as best he could.

A column of ice appeared to one side, giving the low-perennial shelter from the attack while routing himself somewhat off to the side. It still slowed him down, but it was better than stopping and defending himself from all sides.

At the same time, while the low-perennial focused on the fire and gorilla, the soul pressure vanished all at once.

Freezing the ground and skating at top speed in place of putting up full essence armor, the low-perennial rushed behind his barrier and glanced back at the gorilla, his greatest fear.

When he spotted the gorilla turning toward the flaming perennial, a tsunami of relief washed over the water-wielding assassin. “I’m alive–”

Frrrip… “AaaAGGhh?!”

A streak of darkness appeared behind the ice-skating perennial. The Shadow Drake used that same ice column for protection while withdrawing all excess essence to hide while surrounded by overpowering flames. A sharp yet instantly retracted rush of spiritual pressure appeared as the drake slashed into the perennial’s back.

The wound itself was minor. Against the toughened body of a frantically running perennial, Oli couldn’t get a killing blow or leave a major injury. At least, not on the body.

That low-perennial assassin fell onto his ice before he could give the drake a counterattack. He clenched at his heart with one hand while forcing himself to his feet with the other hand. “Y-You?!!”

Thud! C-crack!

The low-perennial’s legs were shaking. He needed a hand and a knee on the ground just to stay up. And that was too good of an opening for Hurdo to let go.

Since the flaming assassin had chosen to attack instead of flee, Hurdo ignored the incoming flames and raised stone walls all around the early-perennial to cut off the human man’s easy escape. Hurdo allowed the flames to crash into his earthen essence armor without batting an eye. While that decision through the flaming perennial into a mental pit of despair, Hurdo used that time, instead, to hurl the corpse-turned-flail at the shaky, icy perennial.

“Thanks for the prey, Vero!” Hurdo heartily laughed as the icy assassin was knocked through his own ice barrier by the flying corpse.

While the tumbling, twitching low-perennial rolled through the burning undergrowth and the flaming early-perennial attempted to blast a hole in the stone walls to escape, the Shadow Drake hurriedly flew toward the elders battling at the center of the camp.

Oli panted hard but kept his focus on what needed to be done. His essence was running drastically low and he had improvised to escape the clash of perennials. If Oli didn’t have his powerful body and soul art left, he would’ve chosen to flee the battle completely. Especially when the perennial knife to his chest had been far too close for comfort, and had been moving faster than Oli had hoped.

Oli was certain that the only reason he was still breathing was because the assassin had no idea at all about Oli’s soul abilities. That deduction was verified by the other assassin still being able to move and control himself after receiving an even cleaner hit from Oli.

*So perennials aren’t that easy to pick off. I guess that makes sense…* Oli’s racing mind forced him to acknowledge that fact.

However, while Oli’s mind was tormented by the thought of fighting more perennials, his sudden appearance over the elder battlefield sent waves of realization to everyone there.

“Hold strong!” Fulkar shouted, elated to see the drake coming to their aid.

One of the six mercenaries had already died and two more were critically injured. But they heard that shout, spotted the reinforcements, and powered through with everything they had left, clinging to every hope of life they could find.

Whiff. Frrrip! Whiff, whiff. Frrrip, Frrrip!

The Shadow Drake didn’t roar or show off his purple flames. He was too tired to keep up the bravado, which was necessary against powerful perennials.

Instead, Oli waited for the elder assassins to attack first. Oli then weaved the strike, with help from his wings, and delivered a single targeted slash to each assassin he passed. Before anyone could realize that the drake was exhausted from fighting perennials, three peak-elder assassins had either their throats slit or their hearts pierced.

Thus, there were now eight defending elders and nine elder mercenaries stuck in the center of camp with perennial battles all around them.

Seeing the developments of the other battles, the boss assassins were up on the ropes with decisions. No matter how much they wanted to kill the men holding them back and eliminate their mission’s target, they were cold-blooded professionals of the business. They would see the blood on the wall before it was ever splattered. And it wasn’t too late for them to change tactics just yet.

Ranon stared back at Marsel. He focused on weaving by the flaming axe in Marsel’s hands and let his mind hastily put a plan together.

Dallad was on the same wavelength, only he was facing a more difficult position than Ronan. Despite being confident in his speed, especially with his lightning essence, Dallad’s opponent, of all people, was the mid-perennial with wind. And that same mid-perennial knew all about the stories surrounding Blood Moon Order and their supposedly faceless bosses. Turning tail and fleeing from Lambier was incomparable to retreating from Marsel.

“Please–”

Frrring, Frrring!

Before another assassin could beg for mercy, Hurman’s sword covered in revolving ice cleaved through the man’s torso, from the assassin’s shoulder to his opposite hip.

Only two low-perennials remained to keep the swordsman at bay, and both were already injured.

No time was left. It was now or never.

A shroud of darkness burst out of Ranon, temporarily covering and blinding Marsel. Even his senses were dulled against dark essence as Ranon matched the strength of his essence armor to the dense mist.

Not daring to be left behind, a dense shockwave filled with lightning erupted out of Dallad. It wasn’t enough to detain his opponent but it was an opportunity for Dallad to at least create some distance and begin his retreat.

Both boss assassins leaped away at top speed, finding themselves going in the same direction.

“Go a different direction!” Ranon stated.

Dallad leered at his long-time partner in crime. “Either we both escape or we both die!”

They rushed to the north, where the mortal drake had been at first. But all that remained there now were flaming trees, charred bushes, and a burned, spasming assassin.

A rush of wind appeared behind them, as they had expected with Lambier giving chase. There were a few fireballs thrown as well since Marsel hated the idea of getting left behind.

The fireballs weren’t too much of an issue, the boss assassins thought in unison. All they had to do was evade them while keeping Lambier from getting too close. So long as they could get far enough away, they could both turn on the wind-wielding perennial before making their true escape. Then, they could decide whether retreating to Prodson or fleeing directly toward other territories was a better idea.