Chapter 548: I'll Wing It
He had to be careful. While he was suicidal, he was not ready to die at the moment. However, Damon was also aware that defeating them was not even a factor in his equation.
The few knights in the fourth class here were a massive threat — just one could take him out. Then there was the multitude of those in the third class.
He kept his shadow perception off them, careful not to trigger attention.
At the same time, Damon still had to keep an eye on them without actually looking directly. It was a well-known fact that at a certain level of strength, you could instantly sense when someone was staring at you.
This level of equipment and troops… they seemed well-organized and far too secretive.
It was clear from the scratches on their carriages that they had not contacted any civilized part of the world in quite some time.
"However, they knew about the elves."
Which meant they still had information passed to them even in the wilderness.
Who in the empire had such power? Damon could only think of a few who could casually deploy such a force.
It was clear… this was either the grand duchies or the imperial crown.
He ruled out the Temple. If it was them, he would have seen some trace of religious designs. These knights were more loyal to the state than to the goddess.
Damon swung down from a tree, his feet briefly stepping on the air like it was solid ground before he slid into a shadow, tailing them from a few kilometers behind.
There seemed to be a chain of command — someone in the main carriage was giving orders, and this group of knights obeyed with almost reverent precision.
Damon felt a twinge of envy.
"Goddess, when..."
When would he have this kind of privilege? All he had was a few hundred orcs… maybe he was being ungrateful.
He shook his head. This was not the time to remember he was poor.
The chase — or rather, their journey — continued deeper into the wilderness, across rough terrain.
For hours, the cover of darkness grew deeper. Damon began to wonder if these people even planned to stop for the night. He disliked stalwart knightly types — workaholics to the bone.
Except Matia. She was perfect.
Just as he considered whether it was worth continuing the chase, they slowed at a clearing and began setting up camp. The knights quickly used a magic artifact to raise a large command tent.
Afterwards, they arranged themselves into a protective formation and approached the main carriage. Using massive tower shields, they formed a canopy that connected to the tent flaps.
Damon didn't see who stepped out, nor did he use his shadow perception to check. Whoever it was, they were clearly high profile.
"They must really like being dramatic… I mean, walk out of the carriage like a normal person. I can understand if it's sunny or raining, but come on…"
The raven and the squirrel merely watched the dirt-poor commoner vent about the good life.
The person entered the tent before the rest began setting up smaller tents around the clearing. At the center, what seemed to be a mage class woman was activating a magic artifact that projected a barrier over the area to keep intruders out.
Damon slipped inside just before the barrier sealed, hiding his shadow form within the shrubbery.
He looked no different from any ordinary patch of darkness.
If a formless shadow had lips, Damon would have smiled. Now that he had the Heart of Shadow, he didn't have to worry too much about shadow energy.
"I can do this all day…"
The squirrel and raven didn't even need to hide. In a forest, they were just forest critters. The knights ignored them so long as they didn't cause trouble — though Damon didn't trust those two.
The raven had been well-behaved… until the squirrel joined.
Damon slid casually through the shadows.
Only after entering the camp's inner perimeter did he realize he didn't have a plan. Not a damn one. Not even a vague idea.
'Man proposes, Unknown God disposes… planning is useless. I'll wing it.'
Damon was certain that come what may, he would not die.
And if he got captured and tortured… that sounded like a good time. In case he couldn't escape, he could always play his "rescue me" card: Big Sis Lilith Astranova.
If that didn't work, he'd arrogantly declare, "Do you know who my grandfather is?"
Would that make him lose aura? Yes. But so what? Having rich backers was part of life.
"You only hate nepotism because it doesn't benefit you…"
It wouldn't come to that, though. He was just here to steal a dragon horse — er, get compensation for the mount that knight killed.
By now, half an hour had passed. The knights had campfires going, the scent of delicious food wafting out. They spoke softly, their discipline unshakable.
No doubt about it — imperial knights.
Which begged the question: who was leading them?
Damon glanced toward the dragon horses being fed on the far side of camp. He could circle around, but cutting across would save time.
"I can teleport out of here, right…"
He probably couldn't, but curiosity won out.
"Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back…"
With that as his guide, Damon began mapping escape routes in his head. The raven and squirrel moved in from different sides of the camp.
He avoided knights by hiding and gliding through shadows. When he reached the tent, he sensed the aura of two rank-four knights pressing against him.
He froze as one turned toward his location — spotting only a raven standing in the grass, its deep shadow stretching unnaturally long.
The knight looked away, losing interest in the bird.
Damon exhaled quietly in relief, then slid around to the back of the tent and sank into its shadow, using shadow movement to slip inside.
What he saw made his eyes widen slightly.