"Rotate! Mimphralgos and Drathalsiel you're up!" Asura shouted as he sliced down an adventurer. "How much further Delsair?"

"Almost there," she replied, "Just a couple thousand kilometres."

"We don't have such a privilege," Pharos panted, "At most a few thousand metres. We would be exhausted before we get there!"

"We can do this, don't give up! We must prove to Milord that we can be trusted with the hardest tasks and that we have the ability to complete said tasks," Asura encouraged them.

At this point, it was a battle of morale for the Honour Guards. They no longer had the strength to stand up and fight; they were running only on pure willpower. This chase had been going on for about a week now and they were barely making any progress. They were moving at a snail's pace of tens of kilometres a day. While it was a significant improvement to their previous couple of metres a day, at this rate their pursuers would catch up and swallow them before deciding on how to split them between each other. They urgently needed to rest and rejuvenate but their enemies certainly wouldn't allow that. The adventurers' attacks had been becoming stronger and stronger as each day pa.s.ses and the Honour Guards had been getting weaker with each pa.s.sing day. Their complexion was pale and they were listlessly running for their lives. Every time they fought their strikes lacked power behind them and if it weren't for the technique and finesse that they were showcasing they would have been long dead.

With risks came great rewards and this certainly rang true for the Honour Guards. These past few months of constant fighting had honed them and they had become more skilful day by day. The pressure exerted upon them in a battle of life and death motivated them and gave them the push that they needed to be able to advance their skills and hone them to become sharper. Whenever they made a move it no longer looked like an amateur was doing it. When they killed someone it was no longer due to their overwhelming physical traits. Instead, it was a combination of skills and the gift that they were born with. It was due to this that they were able to survive until now. Their current situation further served to temper them as they were burnt under even stronger fire and being forged under more skilfull hammer strikes resulting in a blade that is of greater quality.

Mimphralgos suddenly raised his sword high up to the sky and smashed it down onto the ground. Suddenly, large spikes rapidly rose from the ground creating a mini mountain range that originated from the tip of his sword. This gave the Honour guards a breather and they cherished this chance and immediately bolted as fast as they could. They traversed hundreds of metres in an instant, the ground beneath them simply a blur. They unleashed their full speed as they ran for their lives from the hungry group of ravagers that there hunting them down. Nine mice were running for their lives as a humongous cat chased them wanting to swallow them and fill its ever growling belly. Gone were the exquisite magic being cast and what was left was just crude legs and stamina. The faster your legs moved the bigger your chance of achieving your goal. The roles had been reversed now and the hunter had become the hunted. Fortunately, for the prey, the hunter had been severely damaged by their previous attacks and it had suffered from grievous wounds which were still not addressed. This gave the prey more breathing room as the hunter slowed down the longer the chase lasted. Finally, with a last burst of strength, the honour guards made it to the 2nd Floor and they rushed into the nearest goblin town they could find. The moment they reached the front gate of the town they immediately collapsed onto the ground. The wave had already calmed and was no longer chasing them. The adventurers gave up as soon as they saw their prey entering the 2nd Floor.