**Chapter 56 – Dance of the Winged Shadows**
**[WESTERN FOREST – IMMINENT COMBAT]**
**Julia** didn't think.
She **reacted**.
Her body moved before her mind could process — military training overriding hesitation, left leg **planting** with enough force to crack the bioluminescent moss beneath her boot, hips **twisting** ninety degrees to release stored kinetic energy, right arm **drawing** the sword from its sheath in one fluid motion practiced a thousand times until it became an unconscious reflex.
The blade **sliced** through the air — a sharp metallic whine as metal parted wind, trajectory a calculated instinctive upward diagonal intercept, razor edge **clashing** against the black claws of the bat-human diving toward the frozen Jessica three meters behind.
**CLANG**.
**Metallic** impact — impossible; claws shouldn't have been steel-hard, yet they were. The vibration of collision **shot** up her arm, making bones resonate painfully; a single spark **leapt** from the contact point, briefly illuminating the creature's distorted face half a meter away.
Red eyes **locked** — not animal but **intelligent**, pure malice gleaming through vertical pupils contracting in the sudden light, mouth **opening** to reveal double rows of needle teeth dripping viscous black saliva.
Julia **pushed** — leg muscles **burning** under the strain, sword forcing the claws back centimeter by centimeter; the creature **screamed** — a high, metallic sound that **pierced** eardrums and made her head throb.
**Jessica** behind her — momentarily paralyzed, grimoire open but hands **trembling** slightly as they gripped the pages, eyes **wide** processing the speed of events, mouth **open** with breath caught.
Julia turned her head — only fifteen degrees, keeping the creature in peripheral vision:
**DON'T FALL BACK**! — Voice emerging **authoritative**, unquestionable commander. — Stay in position and—
She stopped.
**Movement** above — not singular but **massive**.
---
**Hundreds** of bat-humans **emerging** from the canopies of the giant trees thirty meters up — not flying but **diving** in coordinated formation, membranous wings beating once to adjust trajectories toward the trio below, red eyes **igniting** simultaneously and transforming the ghostly green canopy into a living crimson constellation, high-pitched shrieks **echoing** through trunks and creating a cacophony that made the air **vibrate** physically.
Not ten.
Not twenty.
**Two hundred**. Maybe **three hundred**.
A full swarm responding to the first one's warning scream.
---
**Julia** — adrenaline **exploding** through her system, time **perceptually slowing**, every individual wingbeat visible, every drop of saliva falling in slow motion:
**ATTACK**! — Scream tearing from her throat; sword **shoving** the creature ahead, hurling it three meters into a tree trunk with an audible **CRACK** of breaking ribs.
---
**San** — ten meters to the left, reacting instantly.
Hands **moving** to the invisible inventory interface — rapid practiced gestures, two icons **tapped** simultaneously; translucent blue glow materializing objects.
**Dual daggers** appeared in his hands — not common iron but polished black steel etched with faintly pulsing silver runes, grips of well-worn black leather, thirty centimeters each, perfectly balanced for throwing or close combat, **Rank D** classification engraved on the pommels.
He grinned — not humor but **anticipation** of a hunter unleashed:
"Time to **work** for real."
---
**Movement** — not running but **vanishing**.
Passive class skill of **Assassin**: *Shadow Step* — short-range teleport five meters, three-second cooldown, moderate stamina cost.
San **faded** — body dissolving into black shadows, **reappearing** instantly five meters up in the air, positioned between two diving bat-humans.
Body **spun** — full three-hundred-sixty-degree horizontal rotation, legs extending to generate momentum; right dagger **slashing** the first bat's neck (clean decapitation, head **separating** in a spray of black blood), left dagger **piercing** the second's eye (brain penetration, instant death).
He didn't stop.
Right foot **planted** on the second bat's back before its body could fall — using it as a platform, leg **propelling** him another five meters vertically to reach a thick branch where three more bats were **perched** waiting to strike.
He landed **spinning** — daggers **cutting** in a crossed X; first blade **tearing** the left bat's throat (trachea exposed, blood gushing), second blade **driving** through the right bat's chest (heart pierced, brief convulsion).
The third bat **attacked** — claws aimed at his face.
San **dropped** — full squat, claws **passing** centimeters above his hair and tearing out a few strands; body **leaping** backward to gain two meters of distance; right dagger **thrown** in one fluid motion.
Blade **spun** — three full rotations, pommel striking the bat's forehead with enough force to **stun**; the creature staggered, disoriented.
San didn't waste the weapon.
He **jumped** — caught the dagger mid-air as it passed, landed on the bat's back; blade **descending** into the neck (cervical vertebra severed, instant paralysis).
---
**Julia** — watching San eliminate seven bats in ten seconds — shouted coordination:
**San**! Clear the ones perched in the branches above! **Jessica**! Take out the ones in the air with area magic! Down here **leave them to me**!
Not a suggestion.
**Tactical order** — assigning responsibilities based on individual capabilities to maximize operational efficiency.
---
**Jessica** — processing the command, nodding once.
Grimoire **glowed** — pages turning on their own until reaching **page 23**; sky-blue runes **igniting** along the edges of ancient paper; voice emerging **clear** reciting a basic flight incantation:
*Ventus… Ascendo… LEVITAS!*
Her body **rose** — not pushed but **pulled** upward by concentrated wind forming an invisible column beneath her feet, ascending three meters per second until reaching **ten meters** of altitude, positioned between canopy and ground with full three-dimensional battlefield visibility.
And she saw — a **tactical nightmare**.
Bats converging from **every** direction — not just above but from the sides, forming a complete sphere of winged bodies encircling the trio; distance closing rapidly: fifty meters, forty, thirty.
**Twenty seconds** until contact.
Jessica — expression shifting from concern to a small, confident **smile**:
"A **CEO** does not falter against simple creatures like these." — Voice emerging **firm**, not arrogance but absolute conviction based on repeatedly proven competence.
Right arm **rising** — palm open upward, fingers curling in a specific arcane gesture; grimoire **glowing** brighter and floating beside her, responding to the non-verbal command.
Voice **reciting** — not in Portuguese but in an arcane tongue that burned her throat as she spoke:
**GLACIES… ARMAMENTUM… DISPERSIO!**
---
**Magic** manifested — not gradually but **explosively**.
Air around Jessica **froze** instantly — moisture crystallizing, temperature **dropping** fifteen degrees in a five-meter radius creating white mist; ice crystals **forming** from nothing through mana-to-matter conversion.
Not decorative crystals.
**Weapons**.
Fifty **ice shurikens** — each palm-sized, six-pointed stars, edges **sharp** as razor blades, tips **piercing** like surgical needles, three millimeters thick (thin enough to penetrate, thick enough not to shatter on impact), glowing translucent blue under the forest's ghostly green light.
They **floated** — orbiting Jessica in a perfect three-meter-radius sphere, spinning slowly awaiting command.
And the bats **arrived** — twenty converging simultaneously from different angles, claws extended, mouths **open** shrieking.
Jessica — smile **widening**:
**ATTACK!**
---
**Shurikens** **launched** — not all in one direction but each following an independent magically calculated trajectory to intercept a specific target, supersonic speed breaking the sound barrier with multiple simultaneous **CRACKS**, air **tearing** visible vapor trails.
**Impacts** — devastating.
First shuriken **struck** a bat's forehead — complete cranial penetration, exiting the back of the skull carrying bone and brain fragments; body convulsed before **falling**.
Second **pierced** the chest — cardiac perforation, blood gushing from fist-sized hole; creature dead before it registered.
Third **severed** wing at the base — complete separation; bat **spinning** uncontrollably, losing altitude shrieking before **crashing** into a tree trunk with lethal force.
Fourth, fifth, sixth — head, neck, abdomen — each impact **fatal** or **incapacitating**.
A **rain** of bodies began — bats **falling** from the sky like black hail, striking the ground with repeated wet **THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD**, creating a carpet of corpses; blood **staining** the bioluminescent moss and turning ghostly green into sickly purple-red.
---
**Julia** — eyes **wide** watching the aerial massacre for two seconds:
*Jessica… has improved dramatically since the last time we fought together.*
No time to process further.
---
**Five** bats landed in front of her — not attacking immediately but **encircling**, moving laterally in a coordinated semicircle, apparent tactical intelligence.
Julia **adjusted** stance — feet shoulder-width apart, knees **flexing** slightly to lower center of gravity, sword **rotating** in right hand to warm the grip, breathing **regulating** into a controlled pattern.
And **attacked** — not waiting for them to initiate.
---
**Fluid movement** — not medieval European style but **Wushu** Chinese martial arts learned in real-world classes before being transported; body **dancing** rather than merely cutting, each attack **flowing** naturally into the next without wasting momentum.
**Step** forward — right leg sliding, body **spinning** one hundred eighty degrees horizontally, sword **sweeping** in a wide neck-height arc.
First bat **ducked** — avoiding by centimeters.
Julia didn't stop the rotation — **leapt** half a meter vertically, left leg **kicking** the crouched bat's face (jaw **shattering**, creature collapsing); body **spinning** in mid-air another one hundred eighty degrees to complete the full rotation, sword **descending** vertically into the second bat.
Blade **cleaved** from shoulder to sternum — deep cut exposing ribs; creature **screamed** and recoiled.
Julia **landed** — knees absorbing impact, body **dropping** into full squat as the third bat **attacked** overhead, claws passing where her head had been a second earlier.
**Upward thrust** — blade **piercing** the bat's abdomen from below, through diaphragm into lung; wrist twist **tearing** internal organs; quick pull freeing the sword.
**Rolled** — evading the fourth bat's dive, rising in continuous motion, sword **cutting** horizontally low at ankle height.
Bat's foot **severed** — clean amputation; creature **falling** off-balance; Julia **finished** with a descending thrust into the exposed neck.
The fifth bat — last of the group — **hesitated** after seeing four companions eliminated in fifteen seconds.
But it had no chance to retreat.
The still-living previous bat's **claw** **tore** into Julia's left side — not fully penetrating armor but ripping metal strips, creating a ten-centimeter superficial cut along the ribs; blood **welling** and staining sky-blue fabric dark red.
Julia **cried out** — sharp pain lancing through her side; body **spinning** instinctively, sword reflexively defending and decapitating the attacker.
**Breathed** — panting, free hand pressing the wound:
*Not serious. Superficial. I can continue.*
---
**San** — in the branches above, continuing methodical slaughter.
Leaping branch-to-branch using trunks and dead bats as platforms — fluid **parkour** movement turning the vertical forest into a three-dimensional playground; daggers **slashing** necks and piercing skulls in rapid sequence without pause.
**Five** bats perched ten meters ahead.
San didn't slow.
**Ran** — three steps building momentum, leapt five meters horizontally, daggers **extended** forward like spears.
He shouted to draw attention:
**HEY!**
Five heads **turned** simultaneously.
They saw San **flying** toward them — but not his body.
**Five daggers** materializing from inventory in an arc around him via rapid invocation, thrown simultaneously with surgical precision using special skill *Blade Rain*.
**THUNK-THUNK-THUNK-THUNK-THUNK**.
Five foreheads pierced — instant cranial penetration, death before processing; bodies **falling** simultaneously.
San landed on the branch they had occupied — retrieving daggers before the bodies fully dropped.
Smiled — professional satisfaction:
"Good thing I bought so many of these **Rank D** daggers. Perfect for medium-range throwing."
---
But **careless** movement.
A bat San hadn't seen **dove** from above — claws **tearing** his right shoulder, ripping a strip of light armor leather, creating three parallel bleeding cuts.
San **cursed** — pain stabbing through his shoulder:
**Damn it!**
He spun — left dagger **rising** and piercing the bat's abdomen; violent twist **tearing** intestines; creature died shrieking.
He touched his shoulder — fingers coming away red:
*Not deep. But it'll hurt tomorrow.*
---
**Jessica** — ten meters up, observing the battlefield.
Fifty shurikens expended.
**Twenty** bats still flying in coordinated evasion of her range.
Grimoire **glowed** — pages turning to **47**.
Voice reciting — faster, urgent:
**IGNIS… GLOBUS… ERUPTIO!**
---
**Ten** fireballs — each melon-sized, orange-red flames **roaring** and consuming oxygen, visible heat distortion — materialized orbiting her body.
**Launched** — not precise discrimination, maximizing area coverage for elimination.
Balls **flew** — random parabolic trajectories, exploding into three-meter-radius spheres of flame on contact with bats, trees, or ground.
**BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM**.
**Massive** heat — temperature spiking twenty degrees instantly, air becoming suffocating, nauseating smell of **burnt** flesh permeating.
Julia **ducked** instinctively — fireball **passing** two meters overhead and exploding against a trunk, bark **carbonizing**, sparks raining.
**San** — twenty meters up shouting:
**WATCH OUT** JULIA! She's gone into **crazy** mode again!
---
**Julia** — not questioning the warning:
**Ran** — maximum speed backward, diving behind a thick trunk five meters away, back pressed against rough bark, breathing **panting**, fireballs **exploding** nearby and creating shallow smoking craters.
*Why is it always like this with her…*
---
**Jessica** — floating, grimoire **glowing** with increasing intensity, expression changing.
Not cold analysis.
**Smile** widening to show teeth — not malicious but pure, uncontrolled **joy** of a child discovering new power.
Arms **gesturing** frantically — each movement spawning a new fireball, hurling them in random directions without **discriminating** friend from foe.
**Laughing** — high-pitched, unrestrained:
**BURN**! Burn **EVERYTHING**! AHAHAHAHA!
---
**Two minutes** of hell.
Forty fireballs **raining** through the forest.
Trees **catching** fire temporarily (flames extinguishing in magic-saturated damp wood but leaving black scars).
Bats **carbonizing** — fifty bodies falling like black meteors.
Ground **smoking** — shallow craters where impacts vaporized moss.
Until **silence** returned — abrupt, anticlimactic.
---
**Jessica** **descended** — levitation ceasing gently, feet touching still-hot scorched ground; grimoire **snapping** shut audibly and returning to its leather satchel.
Expression returning to complete analytical neutrality as though the last two minutes **hadn't happened**.
She sighed — satisfied, relaxed:
"That was **good** for relieving accumulated operational stress."
---
**San** — descending the tree branch-to-branch until reaching the ground, landing five meters from Jessica.
Expression **furious** — not feigned, genuinely **angry**, shoulder still lightly bleeding.
**Ran** — not to attack but to confront, finger pointing accusingly:
"This time I **KILL** you, I swear on everything holy!" — Voice **shouting**, face **red**. — "You almost **burned** me three times! THREE! My hair is **singed**! Look at this!"
He pointed at the tips of his hair — carbonized in places, still lightly smoking.
---
**Julia** — emerging from behind the tree, limping slightly (side still hurting), intercepting San before he reached Jessica; arms **grabbing** his shoulders to prevent advance:
**Calm down**, San! — Voice **firm** but gentle. — **Calm**. Take a deep breath. It's not worth a physical altercation right now.
---
**San** — trying to push past Julia, wounded shoulder protesting the movement:
"That **lunatic** doesn't deserve anyone defending her!" — Voice **vibrating** with accumulated rage. — "And you **shouldn't** always defend her! How many times do we have to **endure** this completely psychotic, irresponsible behavior?!"
---
**Julia** — holding firm despite her own pain:
"I **know** exactly how you feel." — Understanding, empathetic tone. — "But you know perfectly well that she always returns to normal after doing this. It's just… her peculiar way of processing intense mortal combat stress."
Breathing pause:
"And it **worked** objectively. Look around. No living bats left."
---
San looked — battlefield covered in **charred** and **decapitated** corpses, perhaps one hundred fifty bodies, thin columns of smoke rising, acrid smell of burnt flesh.
He sighed — rage **dissipating** gradually giving way to exhaustion, shoulders relaxing, wound throbbing:
"I still think it's completely wrong methodologically…"
---
**Jessica** — ten meters away, voice **projecting** calmly as though nothing had happened:
"As your designated **CEO**, I do not permit inappropriate **flirting** during active field operations that compromises maximum tactical efficiency.
---
**Julia** — turning her head, exasperated:
**Stop** that right now, Jessica! — Tired tone but not genuinely angry, accustomed.
---
**Jessica** began to **laugh** — not sarcastic but genuine, sound bubbling through her throat, shoulders **shaking**, hand uselessly covering her mouth because laughter escaped between fingers.
Julia and San **looked** — identical expressions of confusion and exhaustion mixed.
*What really goes on in that impossible woman's head?*
---
Laughter ceased after fifteen seconds.
The trio remained **standing** — breaths regulating, adrenaline dissipating, post-combat reality settling in.
With the system
**Level up!**
**Level up!**
**Level up!**
**Level up!**
**Julia** — glanced at her own HUD, mentally summoning the interface.
Upper-right corner of vision:
```
╔════════════════════════════════╗
║ JULIA SILVA ║
║ CLASS: SWORDSMAN LEVEL 34 ║
║ ──────────────────── ║
║ HP: 2650/3000 [-350] ║
║ MANA: 480/500 [-20] ║
║ STAMINA: 180/250 [-70] ║
║ ──────────────────── ║
║ STATUS: ║
║ • Superficial Cut (Ribs) ║
║ • Mild Exhaustion ║
║ • -5% Movement Speed ║
╚════════════════════════════════╝
```
Three hundred fifty HP lost. Not critical but significant. I'll need healing later.
**San** — checking his own HUD while pressing his bleeding shoulder:
```
╔════════════════════════════════╗
║ SAN William ║
║ CLASS: ASSASSIN LEVEL 35 ║
║ ──────────────────── ║
║ HP: 950/1200 [-250] ║
║ MANA: 200/200 [FULL] ║
║ STAMINA: 95/280 [-185] ║
║ ──────────────────── ║
║ STATUS: ║
║ • Laceration (Right Shoulder) ║
║ • Moderate Exhaustion ║
║ • -15% Physical Attack ║
║ • -10% Speed ║
╚════════════════════════════════╝
```
He cursed under his breath:
"Damn it… stamina almost depleted. And this shoulder's going to hurt for days."
**Jessica** — reviewing her own interface with an analytical expression:
```
╔════════════════════════════════╗
║ JÉSSICA Mark ║
║ CLASS: MAGE LEVEL 33 ║
║ ──────────────────── ║
║ HP: 800/800 [FULL] ║
║ MANA: 120/600 [-480] ║
║ STAMINA: 200/200 [FULL] ║
║ ──────────────────── ║
║ STATUS: ║
║ • Severe Magical Exhaustion ║
║ • Mana Recharge: 45 min ║
║ • -80% Magical Power ║
╚════════════════════════════════╝
```
"Mana at twenty percent. I won't be able to cast large offensive spells for at least forty-five minutes." — Pragmatic tone, reporting fact, not complaining.
**San** — shaking his head, changing the subject while wincing as he touched his wounded shoulder:
"By the way… these creatures are completely new to me anatomically." — Thoughtful tone despite the pain. — "According to the extensive data I meticulously consulted in the massive monster catalog archives in Ellis, these specific hybrid features have never appeared in any official records over four hundred years. Bat-humans do not exist in known taxonomy."
**Julia** — nodding while wrapping her side with a strip of torn tunic fabric:
"I thought exactly the same thing while observing their impossible anatomy up close during melee." — Pause while tying the knot. — "Which logically means they are either a newly discovered species from unexplored depths… or something created them artificially through forbidden magic or alchemical experimentation."
**San** — looking around the devastated battlefield:
"So what do we do now exactly? Return to Kend, report the discovery of a new species, and collect the reward?"
**Julia** — gazing north in the direction the dragon roar had come from earlier, determination crossing her face despite the wound:
"No. We head precisely in the direction that dragon roar came from fifteen minutes ago." — Absolute, resolute tone. — "We'll find definitive answers there about the true origin of these creatures and the root cause of the infestation threatening Kend."
They turned their heads looking for Jessica.
She was no longer where she had stopped.
Twenty meters ahead — walking north casually as though the mortal combat had never happened, spontaneously humming a strange made-up melody:
"CEO, CEO, CEO… the mind of winners… operational efficiency… burn everything strategically… CEO always wins…"
**San** — looking at Julia with deep disbelief and exhaustion:
"That impossible lunatic…"
**Julia** — sighing, a small tired smile curving her lips despite the exasperation and pain in her side:
"We have absolutely no other choice but to follow her quickly before she runs into an even bigger problem alone and unprotected."
They began walking — limping slightly (Julia on her side, San on his shoulder), following Jessica through the partially burned forest. Smoke still rose from scattered charred corpses; bioluminescent moss extinguished where fire had passed, leaving only black ash contrasting with untouched ghostly green. Temperature gradually dropping five degrees as they advanced deeper north.
Mist thickening — not natural but laden with visible magical energy, purple distortions swirling in the air.
And ahead — distant but approaching inexorably — another roar echoed through the massive trunks.
Closer than before.
Much closer.
Not kilometers.
Perhaps hundreds of meters.
Something massive was waiting.