The knight blinked, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She finally managed a shaky bow. "I… I didn't think anyone could—"
"Focus on surviving first," Leo cut in, his voice sharper than he intended. He tried to prop himself up on one elbow. Pain shot down his spine, but his mind was already scanning the area.
Variables: terrain, enemy density, magical residue in the air, probable spawn points.
A faint vibration hummed from the forest floor. Tiny crystals embedded in the trees glimmered faintly. Leo's sharp gaze caught it before the knight did.
"Movement detected," he muttered. "At least two more Ignis units—Level 4 minimum. They're likely drawn by the scent of blood… mostly yours."
The knight froze. "Units? Scent of blood?"
Leo didn't answer verbally. He grabbed a fallen branch and, despite trembling hands, threw it to the side with perfect accuracy, diverting the enemies' attention. The distant rustle of leaves confirmed it—the smaller boars had noticed.
"Stay low," he commanded, voice almost mechanical. "They charge in straight lines until they perceive a threat. I can calculate an intercept path, but I won't survive another frontal clash."
She swallowed hard, her armor clinking. "And… what do you want me to do?"
Leo's eyes, cold and piercing, met hers. "You follow my commands exactly. No improvisation. Every deviation increases our probability of death exponentially. Understand?"
"I… understand," she whispered, nodding, though uncertainty still flickered in her gaze.
Leo exhaled, forcing himself upright. His legs screamed in protest; every micro-movement required full conscious effort. The world was a blur of numbers and probabilities in his mind. He visualized the incoming enemies: their trajectory, the speed at which they would converge, the angle at which his fragile frame could move without breaking.
The forest trembled again. Branches snapped like brittle bones. Two Ignis boars burst from the undergrowth, smaller but just as menacing. Their tusks were sharp, and their eyes glowed faintly with the same red-orange hue as before.
Leo calculated:
●Distance to first enemy: 14.3 meters.
●Reaction time: 1.82 seconds.
●Optimal escape vector: 22 degrees off current heading.
●Survival probability: 37%.
"Move!" he barked.
The knight hesitated for a split second—too long. Leo shoved her forward with one arm, barely keeping himself from collapsing under the effort. The first boar charged, tusks lowered, claws tearing into the soil. Leo's mind had already predicted its trajectory, even as his body lagged.
The branch he had thrown earlier snapped under the boar's weight, slightly altering its path—a variable Leo had accounted for in milliseconds. With a guttural scream, he tumbled sideways, dragging the knight behind a moss-covered rock. The boar slammed into the ground where they had stood, sliding past harmlessly.
Leo's mind burned. Every thought, every prediction, every calculation scorched through his skull. And yet… he was alive.
"Again," he muttered, almost to himself.
"This time… I need you to anticipate, not just follow."
The knight's wide eyes met his. "Anticipate…?"
Leo's lips twitched into the faintest of smirks, despite the pain.
"Yes. Because I won't always have the luxury of my body keeping up with my mind."
The forest was quiet again, if only for a heartbeat. But Leo's eyes were already scanning, calculating the next threat. Survival wasn't luck—it was numbers. And Leo, for all his fragile body, was about to prove that numbers ruled everything.