Alright, let's infuse this with that web novel flair, keeping everything intact:
Saland, Rorrak, Ren, and Rhon... they've decided to forge their own path. A pang of something akin to disappointment flickered within Saland as he heard their words. "We've decided to create our own group," Saland repeated their sentiment internally, a slight frown creasing his brow. "Sorry, but we won't be following you for now." The finality in their tone was unmistakable.
Saland's gaze hardened, a nascent ambition sparking in his eyes. "When I become the king of this land," he declared, his voice carrying a newfound weight, "I'll need strong allies. Rest assured, we'll be in touch in the future." With those words hanging in the air, Kan and the others turned as one, their figures melting into the embrace of the dense forest, leaving Saland alone with his resolve.
Turning his attention, Saland and the aged Egar began their trek towards the king's formidable castle. The journey stretched before them, an unknown path fraught with potential peril. Doubt gnawed at Saland's mind. "Old man," he began, his voice laced with a hint of uncertainty, "how in the world do you know the direction we're heading is even right?"
A knowing glint appeared in Egar's ancient eyes, a testament to battles long past. "As I've already recounted to you, young one," Egar's voice was a low rumble, filled with the wisdom of experience, "I once clashed swords with the very king who rules this realm. That encounter, though years ago, left an indelible mark. Since our powers collided, I possess the unique ability to distinctly sense his aura, a faint but persistent signature in the tapestry of this land."
Days bled into nights as Saland and Egar pressed onward, the forest their constant companion. The air grew heavy, the silence punctuated only by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of unseen creatures. Then, a sudden shift in Egar's demeanor broke the monotony. His piercing gaze swept across the surrounding foliage. "Boy," he warned, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "we are not alone. My piercing eyes have detected the presence of several enemies lurking in our vicinity. Brace yourself, young Saland. A fight is coming."
As if summoned by Egar's words, a voice echoed from an indiscernible point within the dense woods, its tone cold and authoritative. "Fugitives on the run! By order of the crown, we command you to halt immediately and submit to arrest! Should you resist capture, know this: we will show absolutely no mercy!"
In the blink of an eye, the shadows around them coalesced, revealing a menacing circle of at least 20 figures – executors of the king's will. They moved with a practiced efficiency, clad entirely in black, their faces hidden behind featureless masks, adding to their aura of dread. Without a word, the executors launched their assault, a coordinated wave of aggression crashing against Saland and Egar.
But the two were not without their own strengths. Egar, his aged body moving with surprising agility, utilized his piercing eyes to their full potential, his attacks swift and precise, eliminating at least three of the black-clad figures in rapid succession. Not to be outdone, Saland's aura flared, and he immediately activated his rekkai, a visible manifestation of his inner power, meeting the onslaught with a flurry of powerful fists.
One of the executors, breaking from the melee, unleashed a crackling bolt of lightning aimed directly at Saland. With a roar, Saland channeled his energy, meeting the electric assault with his fendi montagne, a technique that not only deflected the attack but also shattered the executors directly in his path into lifeless fragments. The initial clash against this first wave proved to be short-lived. It became apparent that these enemies, sent to intercept them, were not even of official rank, mere obstacles on their path.
Pushing forward, Saland and Egar ventured deeper into the darkening embrace of the forest. Through the oppressive gloom, a fleeting shadow caught their attention in the distance. It moved with an unnatural speed, a black blur leaping effortlessly from one towering tree to another. Its velocity was so great that it defied the limits of normal human perception. Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the figure materialized directly behind them. Instinct took over, and Egar whirled around, launching an attack, but before his strike could land, Saland's hand shot out, gripping his arm and forcefully throwing the old warrior to the ground.
"Boy! What in the heavens are you doing?!" Egar roared, his voice filled with pain and confusion. "That was an enemy!"
Saland, however, remained unfazed. He rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on the mysterious figure. "No," he stated with unwavering certainty, "he harbors no ill intentions. I can feel it deep within."
A voice, smooth and familiar, finally broke the silence. "I am surprised that you still remember me, Saland." The figure stepped forward, revealing himself. "Well, know this, Saland. I am Saruth, and I am not here to end your life. Quite the contrary, I have come to warn you. Beyond the confines of this forest, the current commander, Morgar, lies in wait. He is determined to stop you, no matter the cost."
Saland's eyes narrowed, considering this new information. "Saruth," he began, his tone thoughtful, "could you possibly do me a favor?"
"Of course," Saruth replied, his gaze steady.
Saland continued, his request earnest. "I would be eternally grateful if you could take Egar with you and bring him to a safe place. I do not wish for him to be caught in conflicts that are not his own."
A look of surprise crossed Egar's weathered face. "Boy," he said, his voice touched with emotion, "I am truly happy that you care for me. But do you honestly believe that you will succeed in your endeavor alone?"
Without a moment's hesitation, Saland's answer rang out with unwavering conviction. "Yes. I hold absolutely no fear of facing Morgar or even the king of this entire realm."
Hearing these resolute words, a visible shiver ran down Saruth's spine. "Very well," he conceded, a hint of awe in his voice. "It is time for Egar and me to depart. May fortune favor you, Saland."
Before they vanished, Egar pressed a small, intricately carved object into Saland's hand. "What is this, old man Egar?" Saland inquired, examining the strange artifact.
Egar's gaze softened. "I have imbued the very aura of the king, as it remains etched in my memories, into this magic rune. This rune will serve as your guide, leading you directly to the place where the king resides. Good luck, Saland, and please... return to us alive."
With a final nod of farewell, the two parted ways. Saruth grasped Egar's arm, and in a burst of incredible speed, they vanished into the depths of the forest, leaving Saland to face his destiny alone.