Moments after their first encounter with the Gray Persudo, Imuru stayed on the outside walking alongside Collon stagecoach, leaning against Forcent, ruffling his fur and nozzling his face in Forcent's side.
The Ennom grumbled as Imuru pushed against him. The guard behind them, observed them, a few cold sweats dripping down on his face, before he turned away.
Traveling up through the forest that curved, they came upon a patch of clearing on the left, with a small bluff—a towering wall of eroded earth and tree roots.
The coachmen turned off the trail over to the patch, checking on the horses and enabling the guards to get some rest.
Ori stepped out of her stagecoach, yawning and stretching. "Oh! Yea! This feels… Wonderful."
She spun around, walking right up to Imuru leaning back casually on Forcent, hands on the back of his head.
Ori cleared her throat, still not quite used to addressing Imuru. "Ah~h… Demon Lord Imuru, I~Uh…"
"Hmm." Imuru sat up, leaning off Forcent, his eyes still closed. "Just Imuru will do," He replied in a casual manner.
"Ugh!" Ori exclaimed exasperated. "Wonderful. I doubt I would've gotten used to that. Of course, pardon me for disturbing you, I'm just curious how long until we get there?"
"Right. She's probably growing a bit anxious," Imuru thought lazily. "Lucky her, I'm just waiting to die from shock… But, as I come to realize the world strives after one's suffering—"
"Imuru!" Ori interjected, throwing herself in-between his self-loathing.
His cheeks flashed a faint red, but he instinctively composed himself in order to not break down his facade.
He leapt up to his feet. " I'll need to check on Collon for that one. Just a sec."
"Hi-Hi." Ori observed him, unable to tell if something was off or this is just how he was.
Right over to the stagecoach Yosho was standing at the door, knocking, calling out to her brother to open the door. With Imuru beside her, propped her hands up on her hips, a glaring suspicion in her eyes.
"Well Dare. Hmph. If you will not open for me, then I shall leave." Yosho turned away, nodding to Imuru.
Watching her leave, a cold sweat on his cheek, Imuru knocked on the door. "He's hiding… Uff, can't blame him. She is scary."
The door opened suddenly, Collon pulling in Imuru, shutting it as quickly behind him. Collon sighed, dropping down on the seat, a hand over his exhausted face.
"I swear—If she finds out what they're up to, she'll do something reckless. She never liked them in the first place, this would just be the nail in the coffin."
"Ow~... I'd imagine," Imuru said with sarcasm dripping off his tongue. "Besides that, how long until we get there?"
"Don't worry, this is our final day," Collon replied. "... I want this to be over."
On the edge of the forest on the other side of the path, Slite stared into the forest. Carefully gazing into the silence, turning his head until his eyes met the crimson gaze of another.
The second the creature realized it was noticed, it sprinted off back deeper into the woods.
The beast that rushed came to a stop soon enough, to a small clearing with the body of a deceased Gray Persudo laid in its own blood, with a blade sticking out of its side.
The Orc grabbed the handle of the weapon pulling it out.
From behind, Slite glared at the Orc that stood at an imposing 6'4", a mountain of muscle and menace that weighed over 280 kilograms. Slung across his broad back with an almost dismissive ease was a battle-axe of terrifying proportions.
An ear of the beast perked up, and he turned to face Slite, standing behind him. The Orc had a vicious slash scare that carved its way across his left eye.
They both looked at each other trying to discern each other's particular intention. The Orc turned around completely, brandishing his sword.
"There is no need for hostility," Slite said, hoping to reason with the Orc.
The Orc's fist tightened around the handle of its weapon, and raised the sword, charging in with a swing.
Slite eyes were keen, picking up on the Orc's intention to attack, before it did, he evaded the Orc effortlessly—leaping over its head.
The Orc spun around to strike once again, only for Slite to parry the blade out of his hand with the simple quick-draw of his own blade.
Growling the Orc reached behind its back removing the battle-axe.
"Then so be it," Slite muttered in discontent, resting a hand on the handle of his sword.
Making the first move the Orc brought down the axe, missing Slite as he blitzed to the other side with the Orc wide open, slashing him across the back.
"Argh!" The Orc came back around with another swing down at Slite, crashing his weapon deep into the ground.
Having evaded by simply stepping back, the old man was light on his feet once again, slipping from the grasp of the Orc's bear hug.
The assault didn't stop and the Orc reached for the battle-axe, throwing it at Slite.
Ducking, the axe went sailing right above Slite. Swiftly moving, the Orc captured the blade mid-air, and both their blades collided, flashing sparks.
Unlatching the sheath off his waist, and with a smooth spin, Slite quickly broke this clash, slamming the butt of the sheath right into the Orc's stomach, sending it sliding across the clearing, coming to a stop right on one knee and knuckle.
The pair locked eyes, both gaze calm and without intent. Raising to its feet, the Orc turned and retreated back into the forest.
Slite sighed, sheathing his blade. He looked at the corpse of Gray Persudo for a moment, before he turned to return back to the group.
Right on his way back, he made it in time to see the group already ready to depart once again.
The stagecoaches and wagon lurched again, their iron-rimmed wheels finding a new rug in the mountain road.
Within the stagecoach in front, Ori took notice of Yosho's anxious expression; she had never noticed since meeting her.
"Yosho…" Ori bent in closer. "Are you okay?"
"Uah. Yes, of course." Yosho replied.
Ori leaned back, looking off through the window. "You're usually quite composed, and you're not the type to just have your eyes open to stare at a wall… But okay."
"Oh, Dear." A sly smile crept onto Yosho's face. "Was I? Fufu~."
Inside the stagecoach of Imuru and Collon the window was down, letting in the crisp, thin air of the high pass.
As the team of horses labored upwards a sudden, yawning space opened to the right. The scraggly line of the road's edge simply fell away.
There, far below, lay the world unveiled.
It was a tapestry of green and gold, the plains stretching to a horizon blurred with summer haze. Sunlight poured over the land, catching on a distant, meandering river that shone like a discarded sliver ribbon.
Coming upon the capital from the dirt path that turns to cobblestone that leads to the town, with lush low grass on uneven territory.
The Sacred Forest Council Meeting Capital is a town situated in a spacious, elevated region within the Sacred Forest.
A guard shouted out to the caravan, alerting them to their arrival at their destination.
Imuru instinctively tensed up, already knowing what's to come.