Chapter 2128: The Impact Of One Person II
Chapter 2128: The Impact Of One Person II
Odelia drew a long, shaky breath and let it out slowly. The tension that had locked her shoulders finally eased a fraction. Sweat and melting ice still clung to her skin, mixing with the blood that continued to seep from her ruined right arm.
"How are things over there?" she asked.
Grey’s answer was brief. "They’ll be fine without my help."
She nodded once. The short reply was enough. She did not need the details.
The two Gnomes standing opposite them felt none of that relief. They had pushed harder the moment Grey left, determined to finish her before he could return. Instead he had appeared at the exact instant her resistance began to crack. The timing left a bitter taste.
The scarred Gnome’s jaw tightened. Grey had stopped his wind blades as if they were nothing more than drifting leaves. He glanced sideways and saw his companion’s eyes twitching as they locked onto the young human.
The blood-stained Gnome stared at Grey for a long moment, expression cold. Then he turned his head slightly toward the scarred one.
"Let’s go."
The words hung in the hot air. Both the scarred Gnome and the two humans opposite them made the same startled sound.
Grey and Odelia exchanged a quick look. Neither had expected a sudden call for retreat.
The scarred Gnome leaned closer, voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "What do you mean, let’s go?"
The blood-stained Gnome did not look at him. His gaze stayed fixed on Grey. "You won’t try to keep us here, correct?"
Grey gave no answer. He only glanced at Odelia again, both of them trying to read whether the offer was genuine or a trap.
The blood-stained Gnome grunted. "Relax. We are not like you humans. When I say we are leaving, we leave."
To prove the point he raised one hand and sent a brief flash of dark light into the sky. It lasted less than a second, but it was enough. Across the Peak battlefield the remaining three Peak Sovereign Gnomes, who were still locked in combat with Old Humphrey, Rowena, and Blaire, broke away at once. They disengaged cleanly and streaked toward the blood-stained Gnome’s position.
The only one still with a puppet arrived first. He looked from the two motionless Gnomes to Grey and Odelia, then frowned.
"Why did you tell us to stop?"
The blood-stained Gnome’s voice remained cool. "No clear winner will emerge anytime soon. We’ve already delivered our message. There is no point in staying longer."
The eyes of the Gnome with a puppet narrowed. The explanation felt thin, but he kept his questions for later. Something more sat behind the decision; he could sense it.
Old Humphrey, Rowena, and Blaire reached Grey and Odelia a moment later. The two younger women moved straight to Odelia’s side, their faces tightening when they saw the state of her arm. Old Humphrey had no such luxury. He kept his attention locked on the five Gnomes, body angled so he could react at the first sign of movement.
Grey studied the old man in a single glance. The damage was worse than Odelia’s. Old Humphrey’s breathing was controlled but shallow, and a fine tremor ran through the hand that still held residual elemental energy. If the fighting dragged on much longer, the old man might not walk away.
Old Humphrey met Grey’s eyes briefly, then looked past him to the three women. He understood the situation as clearly as anyone. The Gnomes wanted to leave for reasons of their own. In his current condition he had no strength left to force them to stay. Trying would be little better than suicide; the Gnome and puppet he had just fought had already pushed him near his limit.
He spoke in a cold, level tone. "The desert is not a place you can enter and leave at will."
The blood-stained Gnome answered without hurry. "One of our companions has already paid the price with his life. That should be enough compensation."
Old Humphrey wanted to press the matter further. The words were on his tongue. Then he glanced again at the three women behind him, Odelia’s ruined arm, the exhaustion on Rowena’s and Blaire’s faces, and the argument died. In truth he wanted the Gnomes gone more than anyone. He simply could not afford to look eager. If they sensed how close he was to collapse they might change their minds and try to finish him, or one of the girls, before they left.
He gave a short grunt. "Fine. Withdraw your troops. And never set foot in my desert again."
"Certainly."
The blood-stained Gnome drew a small object from his sleeve and tossed it skyward. The item unfolded in mid-air, expanding into a large, dark horn that hung unsupported. A deep, resonant note rolled out of it, low and carrying, spreading across the open plain until even the farthest skirmishes could hear it.
Every Gnome on the battlefield reacted at once. They broke away from their opponents without striking another blow, streaming back toward their own lines in disciplined groups. Dust rose in long trails behind them as they regrouped.
The human warriors hesitated. The sudden withdrawal left them uncertain. The weaker fighters looked toward their superiors; the superiors themselves looked toward the Peak Sovereigns for guidance. A few were already shifting forward, ready to pursue, when Old Humphrey’s own retreat signal sounded, clear, deliberate, and final.
He had known his people would chase if given the chance. The moment he saw the Gnomes truly intending to leave, he cut off any further engagement.
Both sides’ Peak Sovereigns returned to their respective armies. When the four human Peak Sovereigns and Grey appeared together, a ragged cheer rose from the ranks behind them. The cheer grew louder once the soldiers noticed that one Peak Sovereign Gnome was missing. The realization spread quickly: the invaders had lost. Blood heated. More than a few warriors clenched their fists, the urge to finish every last Gnome flaring hot and sudden.
They were on the front foot now. Why stop?
Across the open ground the blood-stained Gnome scanned the surviving Ninth-stage Gnomes in his ranks. His expression tightened. Too many gaps. Too many missing faces. His gaze found Grey again and stayed there. One Ninth-stage human had walked onto the field and, in a handful of minutes, cost them a Peak Sovereign and a string of Ninth-stage lives.
The thought settled cold and absolute in his mind.
He has to die.