The thunder of battle reached them long before the silhouettes could take shape through the gloom.
There were the sharp impacts of steel, muffled groans, and the aberrant crack of branches breaking with the ease of dry bones.
Lusian raised one hand in a firm gesture.
—Silence.
The entire group froze instantly.
The humans from the tribe crouched in terror against the twisted tree trunks; several children stifled their sobs by covering their mouths with both hands. Even Thunder stopped, holding back his snort.
The forest fell into a deathly stillness.
Far too still to be natural.
Then the foliage exploded, and a body was violently thrown through the undergrowth.
A young Dark Elf rolled across the fallen leaves before slamming into a rotting trunk covered in fungi that pulsed with a sickly light. He spat out a mouthful of blood and struggled to push himself upright, bracing his knuckles against the ground.
He failed.
Twelve silhouettes emerged in a line from the blanket of purple mist.
Dark Elves.
Or the shells of what they had once been.
Their pupils had been erased by absolute blackness, swollen veins protruded beneath their skin like grotesque, withered roots, and vivid purple stains spread across their torsos. They advanced with a jerky, uneven gait, yet without the slightest trace of confusion.
They were hunting.
Three female elves retreated in terror before the pack. One shielded a little girl with her body; the second clutched a terrified boy against her chest, while the third tried to stand between them and the attackers with nothing but her bare hands, desperately trying to buy a few seconds.
They never stood a chance.
One of the corrupted elves lunged at the woman.
She raised her arms on instinct and took the impact head-on, sending her crashing to the ground.
The second did not even flinch.
It stopped abruptly and remained perfectly still, devouring her with its gaze.
The woman rolled across the fallen leaves, desperately trying to get back on her feet. But before she could rise, the second elf stepped toward the exact spot where she would fall.
It seized her by the arm with brutal precision.
There were no exchanged glances between the attackers.
No shared commands.
They moved with the perfect synchronization of a single mind, as though they had known each of their movements in advance.
The boy let out a scream of agony.
A cold shiver ran down Selvryn's spine.
—No...
Keryn looked at her, desperation written across her face.
—What's wrong?
—They've never fought like this.
—What do you mean?
Selvryn did not take her eyes off the two corrupted elves.
—They're soldiers from my own guard. I've known them for years —her voice trembled slightly—. Even the best warriors in the elite guard need to look at each other, communicate, or give some kind of signal before coordinating a maneuver.
The first corrupted elf resumed its advance with heavy, uneven steps.
However, the second adjusted its stance and closed off the escape route with millimeter precision long before its companion made even the slightest movement.
They moved like puppets tied to the same invisible strings.
Like two limbs of a single body.
Selvryn clenched her teeth until she tasted blood along her gums.
—They're not fighting as a team.
Her terrified gaze dropped toward the ground, where dark roots cracked and writhed convulsively beneath the fallen leaves.
—Someone... something is fighting through them.
Adela tightened her grip on the reins of her tiger, her knuckles turning white.
—Lusian...
He did not answer.
His burnished-gold eyes scanned the scene, but his attention was not focused on the corrupted elves.
It was focused on the reaction of the environment.
The enormous roots writhed voraciously around the clearing. One of them caught a corrupted elf by the ankle, driving its thorns into the flesh and dragging the creature toward the earth.
The elf did not react.
It did not even interrupt its advance.
Another root emerged behind one of the women.
The forest did not care who was fighting whom.
It took no sides.
To it, they were all the same:
Living matter that could be incorporated into its expansion.
That was when she appeared.
A silhouette burst through the dense mist and dropped to her knees upon the carpet of leaves.
Selvryn.
The blade of her sword was chipped and covered in notches. A bleeding cut split open her forearm, while a trail of dried blood marked the corner of her lips. She could barely remain standing, yet she refused to let go of her weapon.
—Hold the battle line! —she roared, her voice breaking under the strain.
Four emaciated elves appeared behind her, trying to protect the younger ones. Several could barely remain upright.
They were not a vanguard squad.
They were the miserable remnants of a massacre.
Selvryn raised her sword again.
A corrupted elf lunged at her position, but she desperately deflected the attack.
Another metallic clash rang through the clearing.
The elf staggered backward.
Another strike.
Her knee gave out, and she dropped to the ground.
—Selvryn! —Keryn shouted from afar, trying to break through the encirclement.
Selvryn gritted her teeth and tried to stand, but her strength failed her.
The corrupted elf raised its weaponized arm, preparing to deliver the killing blow.
At that very moment, a piercing scream tore through the air.
Another mutated elf had seized the little girl by the neck, lifting her from the ground like a rag doll.
Selvryn's eyes widened, a strangled gasp escaping her lips.
—No...
She tried to lunge forward, but her legs simply refused to respond.
The girl kicked helplessly in the air, desperately trying to breathe.
The corrupted elf drew its arm back with brute force, preparing to smash her tiny body against a rocky outcropping.
Lusian took a single step forward.
The air collapsed, and the tide of purple mist contracted violently.
The blow never landed.
A dense mass of shadows emerged from nowhere between the girl and the rock, completely absorbing the impact.
The child's body fell gently onto the mantle of darkness, completely unharmed, before rolling onto the grass.
Elizabeth was already moving.
—Now!
Thunder burst into the clearing like a runaway bolt of lightning.
His neigh shook the forest as a surge of blue energy tore straight through one of the corrupted elves, reducing it to ash before it touched the ground.
Adela leapt from the back of her colossal white tiger and landed with a predator's precision on another infected elf, bringing it down before it could even touch the boy.
In that same instant, Dayana dissolved into the mist.
A second later, two more bodies collapsed lifelessly, clean cuts across their throats.
The humans from the tribe retreated in a panic, seeking shelter behind the group's guards.
Lusian did not need to move from his position.
Selvryn's golden eyes locked onto him from the ground.
For the first time during the battle, the pride and defiance had vanished from her face, leaving only devastating exhaustion exposed beneath them.
—Help them... —she whispered, her breath ragged.
Lusian held her gaze, expressionless.
Selvryn clenched her teeth, feeling her pride breaking in her throat.
—Please.
That single word seemed to cost her more than all the wounds covering her body.
Lusian slowly raised one hand.
Darkness spread across the clearing like a sea of living ink.
There was no violent explosion.
No roar.
Only pure shadows winding through the vegetation.
The corrupted elves that attempted to charge were swallowed instantly by the abyss.
One dropped lifelessly.
Then another.
A final infected elf tried to flee into the dense undergrowth, but a shadow spear pierced its chest, pinning it to the ground.
Within seconds, the slaughter ceased, and absolute silence once again claimed the clearing.
Only the survivors remained.
And the ever-present threat of the roots.
Selvryn breathed heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
She surveyed the scene.
Her people were still alive.
The little girl sobbed quietly in her mother's lap. The boy clung tightly to the torso of one of the warriors, while Keryn remained on her knees, struggling to comprehend their salvation.
The elf slowly lowered her chipped sword.
—Why? —she asked, fixing her eyes on Lusian.
—Because I needed them to survive —he replied without hesitation.
She frowned suspiciously.
—What do you want in return?
—Information.
Selvryn fell into tense silence.
—I want to know the layout and nature of this forest —Lusian continued. —Which areas offer shelter. Which paths are passable. And where we can settle without having to repel an attack every hour.
Selvryn's expression shifted from surprise to confusion.
—You plan to settle here?
—We have human refugees to keep safe.
The captain turned her gaze toward the group.
Men, women, and children watched the elves with the same restrained apprehension with which the elves watched them:
Two peoples marked by suffering, with not a single reason to trust one another.
And yet, both were driven by the same relentless urgency:
Survival.
Selvryn closed her eyes for a moment, making a decision.
—I will show you the travel routes.
Lusian waited calmly.
—I will also point out the safe locations —she continued, opening her eyes. —But I cannot guarantee the forest will choose to respect them.
—I don't need its permission to exist.
Selvryn stared at him in silence.
For the first time since they had crossed paths, they both understood that they were not negotiating a truce between two rival species.
They were speaking about the same ancient enemy.
Not the humans.
Not the elves.
The Shadow Forest itself.
A dull crack once again traveled through the earth.
The roots emerged from the fallen leaves once more, advancing with sinister purpose toward the corpses of the corrupted.
One of the fallen was still dying in agony when a thorned root pierced straight through his back.
The elf died without uttering a sound as the earth began swallowing his body into the depths below.
Selvryn turned her face away bitterly.
—We must leave this place immediately.
Lusian gave a slight nod.
—Then lead the way.
Selvryn gripped her sword once more.
There was no sympathy between them.
Not the slightest trace of mutual trust.
Only a pragmatic pact forged by necessity.
And as the exhausted survivors began moving beneath the purple gloom, the forest remained in watchful stillness.
Watching them.
Waiting for its moment.
The roots continued advancing beneath the earth.
They had not stopped.
They had learned something new.