Whispers on the trail.

  The faint light of the day’s end painted the trail in golden and orange tones as a young man walked calmly beside his horse, scribbling words into a dark-covered journal with quick, lively strokes. His expression was light, and the discreet smile on his lips suggested satisfaction with what he was writing.  In the distance, he spotted small flickering lights between the trees — a village.  — Finally… let’s rest a bit, buddy — he murmured affectionately, patting his horse’s neck.  He closed the journal carefully and placed it inside a small leather pouch at his waist. As he approached the village entrance, he noticed two young peasant girls ahead carrying baskets filled with fresh herbs and leaves — likely returning from the nearby forest. The soft sound of their laughter and distracted footsteps filled the otherwise silent trail.  He quickened his pace and, upon reaching them, dismounted with a calm gesture, maintaining a gentle smile and tone as he approached.  — Good evening, ladies. Is there an inn around here where I can spend the night?  The two turned almost at the same time. The older one, appearing just over twenty, naturally took the lead with a responsible and attentive expression.  — Stranger in the village, huh? My name’s Nina. And this idiot next to me is my younger sister, Elira. There is, yeah — an inn right over there — she pointed with her chin. — It’s simple, but does the job.  — Simple… right? — the younger muttered, wrinkling her nose before leaning a bit toward the boy with a bold smile. — If you want, you can sleep at my house… and it’s free, okay? I’m still single so be gentle with me right away — she said, without a shred of shame, though completely flushed.  A dry smack echoed on the trail.  — I told you to stop that, Elira! — snapped the older sister, visibly irritated and utterly out of patience, while the younger pouted, rubbing the top of her head.  The boy was so surprised he barely reacted, and after a brief smile…  — Hahaha… thank you for the hospitality, but I’m just passing through. I probably won’t even see the sunrise here.  But before any other comment could arise, the young man suddenly stopped laughing.  His eyes narrowed. A nearly imperceptible chill crawled up his neck. There was something strange… a subtle trace of energy. Magic.  He lifted his gaze toward the forest ahead, his smile softening but his expression turning alert.  The sisters followed his gaze.  — Umbrathara Forest… — murmured Nina, her face growing serious. — Not a good place for anyone, especially at night.  — Hey, Nina… — the younger tugged on her sister’s sleeve. — That noble escort that passed earlier… didn’t they ignore the villagers’ warnings and go in there?  The older sister sighed heavily and nodded.  That was enough.  The boy quickly climbed back onto his horse, which neighed softly at the sudden rise in tension.  — Wait! You’re not going in there now, are you?! — Nina stepped forward, trying to grab the reins to stop him from doing something reckless, but the horse itself moved in a way that blocked every attempt.  He smiled — and there was something serene… but decisive in that smile.  — I appreciate the concern. But I need to take care of something important — he replied gently.  Before leaving, he turned one last time and said: — It was a pleasure meeting you, Nina and Elira. My name is Varian… I’ll come back someday to visit you both.  And then he left. The sound of hooves echoed strongly along the quiet trail as the horse dashed into the forest.  The sisters remained silent for a few seconds.  — What a man, huh?! — said Elira, with a fox-like grin and her arms crossed over her chest.  Another dry slap.  — Idiot. You’re never going to get a husband acting like that! — grumbled Nina as she pointed a finger at her sister, though her mood had obviously changed. Her eyes returned to the forest, carefully fixed on the direction the boy had disappeared.  Back at the ambush on the escort, after surviving the first enemy strike and releasing their auras, Garikk commanded his brave riders positioned further in the rear to advance.  Immediately, his warriors charged toward the enemies; once close enough, they leapt from their mounts directly onto the foes, who did not expect such audacity.  In that powerful strike, several mercenaries were hit and killed, but some knights shared the same fate. One was surrounded by three enemies of equal level and quickly defeated, while another, attempting an attack, had his hands severed in a clean strike and then his chest pierced by a spear.  Garikk advanced through the battlefield like a god of war. His imposing aura spread from his body to his horse, making the steed so fast it left only a streak of light wherever it passed. Each swing of his long sword tore through the air and ground, leaving destruction in its wake. He wasn’t just fast — he was unstoppable.  Not far from there, Lysielle was advancing toward whom she judged to be the enemy leader, her fury immense despite her calm expression. Her empty, intense eyes glowed with pure hatred, and her battle spear was being gripped so tightly that even that powerful weapon seemed it might break in her hands as she walked slowly toward the enemy.  When the two were only centimeters apart, their eyes met, and the pressure around them became oppressive. Two level-5 warriors now stood face to face.  — You’re going to pay for making my friend suffer — said Lysielle, not hiding even the slightest bit of hostility, each word carrying the certainty that she would make him face the consequences.  The bandit leader did not look away nor show fear; with a wide smile, he said with disdain:  — And here I thought I’d have to chase you through the forest, but this little rat came straight into my trap.  After a moment, the boy who had ridden through the forest finally reached a safe distance from which he could observe the entire battle unfold.  He tied his horse in a secure spot, hiding it so it couldn’t run, and returned to analyzing the fight from afar. He quickly noticed it was an ambush.  — There must be an opening… even in this situation, someone like me can be useful — the young man thought.  Though his level was lower than the warriors on the field, he knew he could still contribute.  In the chaos of the fight, Garikk found himself surrounded. His attacks remained precise and deadly, but his movements were losing the vigor they once had, and his aura, though still intense, flickered as if being rapidly consumed. He fought on, firm and relentless, but clear signs showed he wouldn’t maintain that pace much longer.  Meanwhile, an explosion erupted on the battlefield, and from the smoke two figures emerged clashing violently: Lysielle and the mercenary leader were locked in a frantic duel.  The mercenary leader was extremely surprised.  — This girl is much better than I thought… she dodges nearly all my attacks — he thought, striking Lysielle’s ribs with his club and hurling her away. Yet she instantly returned, maintaining direct eye contact.  — She’s so light, it’s like I can’t even feel myself hitting her! — he murmured, finally noticing the girl’s precision and control.  Lysielle dodged most attacks, but when she couldn’t, she allowed herself to be hit in a controlled way, anticipating the trajectory and throwing herself in the direction the blow would send her, drastically reducing the impact. Every movement of hers was calculated, fast, almost impossible to follow.  — Clever — the man thought, realizing there was no opening to escape that high-speed exchange of blows.  Then, out of nowhere, two more level-5 figures appeared, attacking Lysielle by surprise. Unable to react in time, she was hurled away, the combined impact sending her flying — and for the first time, she was truly injured.  After crashing into a large tree and shattering it, Lysielle rose slowly and, upon analyzing her own body, noticed her left arm was broken and dangling, in addition to countless smaller wounds all over her. Her once-calm expression began to change due to fatigue and pain.  She took a deep breath, her empty eyes still glowing intensely as she assessed the situation ahead.  — If I’m not mistaken, we had ten level-4 warriors… — she murmured, scanning several directions — There seem to be at least thirty of them, but only fifteen pose any real danger to my men.  Her gaze then fixed ahead.  — Among those fifteen, only these three in front of me pose a threat to me. — she said coldly, each word precise. She knew that if she lost, everyone might die — but if she won…  After a brief moment of thought, Lysielle began releasing all her mana, revealing for the first time the true extent of her power. As a member of one of the most powerful families and a fully trained mage, her aura was many times stronger than any warrior present.  — Come! — she commanded, her voice cold and firm, as hundreds of mana beasts materialized around her, all mid- to high-level, making the ground tremble under their presence.  From the earth rose a colossal figure, casting a shadow that covered the entire battlefield. Its scales served as an impenetrable natural armor, and its enormous, majestic wings seemed capable of leveling mountains. It was the mana dragon, the ultimate manifestation of Lysielle’s power. With a single sweep of its tail, part of the forest was devastated. Lysielle stood upon its back, steady despite her condition.  The effort of channeling so much mana began to take its toll: blood dripped from her nose as a consequence of massive energy use. But none of it stopped her. The lower-level mercenaries trembled before the creature, paralyzed with fear, and many were crushed without mercy under the dragon’s weight and steps.  — Kill all these enemies! — Lysielle roared, and the hundreds of beasts advanced in unison, attacking relentlessly.  The battlefield erupted into utter chaos. The weaker enemy forces were annihilated, leaving only the main confrontation: Lysielle, standing atop her mana dragon, facing the three, now confident in victory.  But despite this, the three were disturbingly calm as they walked toward the beasts, something that surprised Lysielle.  Meanwhile, the lower-rank mercenaries, once confident, were being massacred by the mana beasts. The creatures advanced savagely, crushing and tearing apart anyone who approached, giving no chance of escape. Their attacks were precise, and in seconds most of the enemy force had already been eliminated, making it clear that the presence of the level-5 trio did not mean the others were safe.  — What a waste… — said one of the three, his voice cold and disdainful — losing so many men because of one girl.  — She didn’t even seem that strong until now — commented another, shrugging as he walked forward.  Lysielle, irritated, raised her voice, not hiding the hostility in her tone:  — You… — Lysielle began, but her words were abruptly cut off when one of the three stepped forward and, with a swift motion, silenced her with a gesture.  Then, that same mercenary pulled from inside his shirt a rare artifact, and upon imbuing it with a wave of mana, an explosion of energy spread through the forest. Lysielle was still speechless, and her astonishment grew even more as she watched the smaller summons — previously countless — be instantly shattered into particles of light, disappearing without leaving a trace.  Her eyes widened in shock, surprise carved across her face.  The mercenary leader let out a dry, cold laugh echoing through the ruined clearing. His eyes gleamed with disdain and malice as he fixed them on Lysielle, who still struggled to regain balance after the unexpected attack.  — You really thought we wouldn’t expect an innovator to use that tired technique?! — he said, every word dripping with mockery — You using that was exactly what we were waiting for from the start!  His malicious smile widened even more, as he thought that because of such a large-scale ability, her mana reserves must now be at the lowest point possible.