Genius Mage in a Cultivation World

Layn continued to watch over the girl for over an hour. At this time, he didn't care even the slightest bit about anything that was happening around him. His focus was fully and solely dedicated to supporting Irea's effort at recovery. 

But that didn't mean the time itself had stopped. 

"Keep running, fool!" Antion shouted, calmly jogging after the escaping traitor. There wasn't a single bead of sweat on his forehead or expression of anxiety nor tiredness in his eyes. From his disposition alone, it was clear that he considered his current hike as nothing more than that. 

The same couldn't be said about Befrel. Roughly a hundred steps ahead of Al, he was using every last bit of his energy, magic, and cultivation to keep his legs moving. Yet, despite pushing himself to his limits, he just couldn't shake that annoying pest off his back. 

'Damn it all!' Befrel cursed in his thoughts, constantly pushing himself to his limits. His body was soaking wet from all the sweat he produced, yet he didn't feel cool at all. 

Even though the open plains were nowhere nearly as harsh as the desert itself, it didn't mean the sun didn't do its work there. Under the constant assault of its warm rays, Befrel continued to lose his strenght with each passing second. 

'I was so close, I was so damn close!' he moaned with disappointment in his thoughts. Even though he was desperate, his desperation didn't give him any additional energy. Rather than that, it seemed to be a massive leach on his soul, sucking his mental will to resist his fate. 

'It's all because of that whore,' he thought. For a moment, his thought mellowed down, sprinkled with the mead of achievement. 'At least she got what she deserved now,' he thought, recalling the moment when his state-of-the-art spell fired off. 

She managed to divert it, preventing Befrel from starting a massive conflict between the two entities that the Star Emperor could have trouble subjugating. And while that meant the end of Befrel long and harsh mission, it also meant that there would be no chaos that would allow him a swift escape. 

Tick. 

Befrel tripped on a random stone protruding from the grasslands. Or rather, protruding from the ground, but fully invisible under cover of thick and high blades of grass sprawling all over the massive plain. 

'Dang it,' Befrel thought, feeling how all the hope of ever returning home vanished from his soul. Even though he knew he couldn't outrun that damned traitor of a perfect, he still hoped that some kind of miracle would save his life from the hands of that damned bastard. 

But the great Gods didn't seem to look at him with favor today. 

That's why Befrel didn't bother to stand up. 'I didn't have a huge advantage over him,' he thought, expecting to feel the man's kicks and fists at any given notice. 

'Any moment now,' he thought, even going as far as to close his eyes to prepare for the inevitable. 'What's taking him so long?' he asked himself, but the sudden prospect of opening up his eyes and checking the situation was just too scary for the man to handle. 

For as long as he had his mission, he was willing to brave through the greatest dangers and act as a friend to the monsters that shouldn't exist and people who allied with said monsters. 

'But now that my mission is fulfilled, I have nothing to worry about anymore,' Befrel thought, ready to depart from this world at any time. 

But Antion continued to refuse to touch him. 

'Heck, I tripped a long while ago. Did something kill him?' he thought, unable to hold the pressure of ignorance. Forcing his body to act, Befrel opened his eyes up before pushing his upper body up. 

And there he was. Standing exactly a hundred feet away from him. 

"Stand up and run," Antion said with a cold look on his face. He didn't even hold his weapon, proving that he didn't even consider Befrel to be his opponent. 

'That damned bastard,' feeling the sting of the insult to his pride, he clenched both his teeth and his hands. 'Well, being in his position, I wouldn't bother acting kind either,' Befler thought, suddenly feeling the remorse.

'Well, no point getting anxious about the moral side of things now,' he thought after a moment, forcibly removing all the hesitation from his thoughts. 'They might look and act like humans, but they are not humans. There is nothing wrong with turning the life of monsters into hell,' he repeated the same words he heard from the Emperor's interrogator that gave him the mission to infiltrate Layn's group. 

And those were the words that Befrel decided to believe now. 

'Even if they are all a lie,' he thought, grimly acknowledging the fact that what he believed in was nothing more but a sham made to ease his mind in a situation like the one he was in. 

"Just kill me already," Befrel finally spoke up, shouting over the distance to his purser. 

"Stand up and run," Antion replied coldly, not minding the requests of his prey at all. "I won't let the stray stone claim the achievement of catching a cursed traitor like you," he said, placing his hand on the knob at the end of his sword. 

Amongst everyone in the camp, Antion was the only one to use this noble weapon. Not because he was the only one capable of wielding or purchasing it. Given how every single member of the party was an accomplished adventurer before joining Layn's group, it would be strange for all or any of them to be unable to afford such a relatively cheap weapon.

But there was a difference between using a weapon one was used to and the weapon that one only ever heard about or saw someone else use. Even if Befrel could afford to buy a sword for himself years ago, he decided not to after carefully asking around just how many years would he have to train to master it. 

After all, for an adventurer, several years of training would mean bankruptcy and starvation. 

'Well,' Befrel thought, standing up and looking at Antion in the distance. He released a deep sigh before reaching towards his belt. "At least I will die by the weapon I adore," he said out loud, not minding the other party listening to him at all. 

If Antion were to deprive himself of his weapon just to deny this last wish of his, then Befler would gain an advantage. An advantage that he could potentially turn into a window of opportunity to escape. 

And if he didn't, then Befler would at least fulfill one of his wishes before disappearing from this world. 

"Who said I'm going to kill you?" Antion suddenly asked, leaning his head over to his side. Then, he started to slowly make his way forward, still refraining from pulling his weapon out. "Do you really think I'm that stupid?" Antion asked once again.

'Layn would kill me if I dared to lay a single finger on this guy,' Antion thought, already picturing the rage seeping out of the leader of their group. Not minding the treason alone, something that Layn would possibly be able to forgive in some specific circumstances...

From the moment Befrel, even if indirectly, ended up hurting Irea, his fate was already sealed. 

"I guess that's the situation we are in," Befler said, losing all his hope when Antion still refused to pull his sword out. "I guess there is only one thing left for me to do then," he said before pulling out a small dagger from a sheathe hidden underneath his clothes. 

But he didn't throw it at Antion. He didn't even hold it in his hand as a sort of super-close combat weapon. With one move, he brought the knife to his own throat. 

"As if I would let you." 

A calm yet domineering voice spread throughout the entire plain. Even those uninvolved with the situation at all could hear it. 

"What was that..." Shocked by the change in the situation, Befler attempted to slice his throat open in a hurry, only to realize that whenever he would push the knife closer to his throat, it would somehow appear further away. 'Is he messing with my senses?!' Befrel thought in panic, recognizing the possible nature of the spell. 'But that would mean...' he thought, before something struck the side of his head, depriving him of consciousness. 

"Boss!" Antion sprung up and saluted Layn as soon as he appeared right behind Antion's prey. His raised hand indicated that he was the one to strike the traitor unconscious. "Sir, by your presence here... I assume lady Irea managed to make it out alive," Antion said, making sure to not form this sentence into a question. 

"Yeah," Layn replied shortly, staring down at the lifeless body of the traitor. His eyes were filled with some strange, dark presence that Antion never experienced before. "She just needs some rest now," he added before lowering his hand and moving his eyes from the unconscious man to his loyal subordinate. 

"Take him back to the camp. I have some means to get all the information we want from him, but I will need peace and quiet place to do it," Layn said before turning around and leaving. Or rather, before turning around and suddenly disappearing, as if his entire body turned into a fine powder and disappeared on a random gust of wind.