Chapter 92: Escape from Death

At this moment, Roland and Menlet were deep in conversation, entirely oblivious to the blade poised behind him. Victoria, who was on Roland's other side, was the first to notice, but it was already too late for her to intervene. In desperation, she shouted, "Roland, look out!"

Startled, Roland and Menlet turned just as the knife's tip was only inches from Roland’s back. As it turned out, when Roland and Menlet were exchanging the magic crystal core, Rand had quietly stepped back, unsheathing the dagger from his belt without anyone noticing. With Roland off guard, he launched the attack, aiming directly for Roland’s vital point.

Rand had long planned this moment—he would kill Roland, snatch the ring, and flee into the wilds. As for Menlet, he was only a third-level martial artist, and Victoria, though a fourth or fifth-level mage, would be hard pressed to catch him if he escaped at full speed. Besides, they were deep in the perilous Maya Mountains; he could vanish into the wilderness, where neither would dare pursue him too far. Even if they reported the murder and theft when they returned to the academy, with the spatial ring in hand, Rand could sell it for a fortune and settle any trouble. Killing Roland would also avenge the humiliation he suffered earlier, so he hesitated not at all.

"You dare!" Menlet roared in fury, shocked that his companion from the Martial Academy, Rand, would suddenly try to murder Roland. He swung a punch at Rand’s arm, hoping to knock the dagger away, but as a third-level martial artist, he was simply too slow.

A faint sound of steel tearing flesh rang out, followed by a brilliant spray of scarlet blood from Roland’s back, and his body was sent flying forward, collapsing to the ground with a thud.

Though something felt amiss, Rand’s face flashed with triumph at his successful strike. Menlet's punch now arrived, but Rand merely sneered, dismissing the attack of a third-level martial artist. He didn’t even bother to dodge, instead bracing his legs to lunge for Roland’s spatial ring. But to his astonishment, his legs wouldn’t move; they were frozen in place.

Terror gripped him further as he suddenly realized his entire body was immobilized, and a bone-chilling cold engulfed him.

A crisp crack resounded, and Rand’s worst nightmare unfolded—his arm was snapped off by Menlet’s punch, the severed limb falling to the ground without a single drop of blood.

Menlet was stunned by the effect of his own blow. Both his gaze and Rand’s, now missing an arm, turned to Victoria, who had been silent until now. Around her body swirled a violent aura of frost.

Victoria, having poured all her spiritual and magical power into freezing Rand, was now pale-faced, but she ignored the pain from her nearly depleted reserves. She rushed to Roland, who lay collapsed on the ground.

With a trembling voice tinged with tears, she called softly to him. How could Roland, a mere third-level mage, survive a full-force blow from Rand, a fourth-level martial artist?

Menlet, seeing Rand lose an arm, cared nothing for him now, and hurried to Roland’s side. As a fellow martial artist, he knew the lethality of Rand’s attack—it was a sure-kill strike. Roland, a mage, was physically frail; surely he would not survive...

With a mighty kick, Little Black sent Rand flying, then hurried over to Roland.

As blood gushed from Roland’s wound, Victoria’s heart almost faltered, nearly losing control. Instinctively, all her remaining magical and spiritual power surged forth, freezing Rand’s dagger-wielding arm and body. It was the fastest way to stop a fourth-level martial artist’s deadly attack, but even her ice came a step too late.

Once Rand was frozen, Victoria didn’t spare him a glance, instead rushing to Roland. He lay sprawled on the ground, blood still seeping from his back. Victoria quickly summoned what little magic and spirit she had left, forming a layer of ice over his wound to staunch the bleeding.

“Roland, you…” Victoria couldn’t finish her sentence, tears streaming down her cheeks. In their weeks of traveling together, every day had been joyful, but now, just as they were about to leave the Maya Mountains, disaster had struck.

“So cold!” came a voice, heavenly to her ears. Though soft, it was more beautiful than any song. Through her tear-blurred vision, Victoria saw Roland grimacing, lifting an arm behind him, trying to peel away the ice from his wound.

Suddenly, joy surged within her. She stared wide-eyed, scarcely able to believe it. “Roland, you... you’re not—don’t take it off, your wound is still bleeding!” Seeing him try to remove the ice, Victoria quickly grabbed his arm.

Menlet, now at Roland’s side, was equally elated. “Roland, you tough bastard! You’ve got nine lives!” He forgot himself and slapped Roland heartily.

“Are you trying to kill me? Help me up instead!” Roland protested, rolling his eyes.

“Ah—sorry, I got carried away!” Menlet quickly and carefully helped Roland up. Though they’d squabbled as children, after reconciling and fighting beasts together, Menlet saw Roland as a true brother. Now, witnessing his miraculous survival, Menlet was overjoyed.

Seeing Roland unharmed, Menlet finally relaxed, though anger welled up. “Damn it, Rand, you attacked one of your own—I won’t let you off!” But when he looked up, Rand was already gone.

Rand had intended to kill Roland with a single blow, seize the ring, and flee. Yet the moment his dagger struck Roland’s back, he sensed something was wrong. Roland’s body had somehow shifted just enough to avoid death, and the blade met unusual resistance within his flesh.

To others, it appeared a powerful strike had sent Roland flying, but Rand realized it hadn’t been fatal. He couldn’t fathom how a third-level mage like Roland could survive such a deadly attack.

When he tried to grab the spatial ring, Victoria’s ice magic immobilized him, most of its force concentrated on his arm. Thus, Menlet’s punch easily broke his now brittle limb.

Knowing that once they recovered, they wouldn’t spare him, Rand forced himself to break free of the ice, risking severe internal injury. Fortunately, his body wasn’t completely frozen, so he managed to escape while Victoria and Menlet tended to Roland.

Roland stopped Menlet from pursuing Rand. “Don’t chase him. There are too many hiding places around here; he could be anywhere. Besides, we’re still in the mountains—if we run into a fierce beast, it could spell disaster.”

As he spoke, Roland resolved never to forget this deadly attack; he would avenge it someday.

“Fine, we’ll deal with him when we get back!” Menlet grumbled, then turned to Roland, confusion in his eyes. “Hey, Roland, how did you survive that sure-kill strike?”

Victoria, on Roland’s other side, shared the same question, her gaze fixed on the man who had cheated death.