'What you are not changing, you are choosing.'"
Evandro slowly got up and picked up his sword from the ground.
Walking slowly, they left the clearing and headed back the way they came.
And so passed the end of the night and the beginning of the morning. The rain had stopped, and they were walking as fast as they could.
By late morning, near noon, they stopped beneath a stone platform held up by another high one — about the size of the two of them combined — to eat and prepare the alchemical mixture.
Alexander gathered the ingredients, and Evandro prepared them over a fire. They preferred to do it during the day because there was less chance of someone spotting the smoke or rain possibly coming to put out the fire. Even though they were sheltered by the stone, caution was necessary.
To use as a boiling container, they took the bread from their packs, broke the left side off one and the right side off the other. Then, they tied them together with the vine Evandro had saved earlier.
By about one o'clock, the alchemical mixture was ready. They filtered it using a technique from Evandro's family, which involved taking a large leaf and making small holes in it — in their case, they used a shard of wood.
After filling two containers from their belts — the other two were filled with water, which they wisely collected the night before from running water points and tree leaves.
Without much hesitation, they extinguished the fire with dirt and hurried off.
On their way, as they approached a narrow clearing, Alexander, who was in the lead, felt his spine freeze from bottom to top and stopped abruptly.
"What th-" Evandro couldn't even say three words before Alexander turned around, signaling for silence while he lay down, hiding beneath the bushes.
But it was too late. A soldier dressed in crimson unsheathed his sword and ran toward them, seeing Evandro standing.
Evandro drew his sword, and the soldier, looking much more robust than those they had faced before, noticed Alexander on the ground when he got closer. He jumped toward the bush, attempting to strike.
Alexander, however, was faster and spun on the ground to the right, dodging the soldier's attempt to impale his head.
Two more soldiers emerged from either side of the forest as Alexander and Evandro backed up to stand back-to-back, surrounded.
Alexander unsheathed his sword and gritted his teeth.
"Two against three… I like it!"
The first soldier in crimson armor attacked first.
He struck vertically with his sword, and Alexander responded by blocking with his sword horizontally, followed by a kick to the soldier's leg — taking advantage of his shorter stature — and he shoved him with considerable force, knocking him to the ground.
Evandro got distracted, and immediately, the two soldiers, hidden in the shadow of the trees, advanced toward him with impressive speed.
The soldier on the left reached him first, delivering a crosswise blow, and the one on the right repeated the same, but was stopped by Alexander.
Evandro struggled against the soldier's immense strength and noticed that the first soldier Alexander had knocked down was groaning, his legs bloodied, and his sword thrown far into the bushes.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sound of swords clashing in quick, precise blows from both sides became the primary sound calling out through the forest for several minutes.
Evandro managed to land more strikes on his opponent, but he was having more difficulty compared to Alexander, who, although he hadn't landed any significant blows, was resisting and much more energetic than Evandro.
Evandro struck the soldier's waist, forcing him to open his guard, and seized the opportunity to strike again. Now, inspired by Alexander, he hit the soldier's foot with his sword, making the soldier stagger backward and fall onto a relatively large oval stone. Evandro then stabbed his left shin with impressive speed and repeated the same on the other leg, nearly driving his sword into the stone.
The man dropped his sword to the ground, screaming in pain, and Evandro coldly kicked it away.
A rush of euphoria took over his heart. His teeth were clenched, his body sweaty and panting, his sword covered in blood — his clothes splattered with several bloodstains. He immediately remembered the dream that had haunted his mind.
But his quick thoughts were interrupted by Alexander shouting for help.
The soldier had knocked him to the ground and was trying to shove his sword into Alexander's throat, while Alexander held the blade with his palms, the fresh blood from his hand's flesh dripping down his arm agonizingly.
Evandro ran like lightning and shoved the soldier to the ground, sending him rolling.
He quickly jumped over Alexander and did the same thing he had done earlier with the soldier, stabbing each leg, at the shin where the armor was weakest.
Alexander stood up and grabbed his sword from the ground.
The two were sweating profusely. Alexander finally relaxed his jaw, his eyebrows in relief after a long period of his face contorting, and his teeth clenched.
Evandro kicked the sword from the pale, white hand of the man and sent it far away.
He sheathed his sword, and with a cold expression, teeth and fists clenched, he walked off without waiting for Alexander, continuing down the path.
Alexander stood stunned when he noticed the paleness and sickly expression on Evandro's face. He seemed to be holding back an overwhelming urge to cry.
'I think he's struggling with the violence...'
Alexander furrowed his brow as he moved toward the clearing. Part of him regretted harming any form of life, even those soldiers, but another part of him said they should have killed them.
'What you are not changing, you are choosing.'"
'I think it means that anything I want to change, if I don't make an effort, I'll ultimately choose not to change…'
...
NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE THE END OF THE FIRST MINI ARC