The darkness cleared, and we had exactly half a second to register medieval architecture before everything went to hell.
A sword swung at my head.
I ducked on instinct, felt the blade whistle past close enough to part my hair, and rolled sideways as my warden power flared defensively.
"What the—"
Arrows hit the ground around us, multiple impacts from multiple directions.
"COVER!" Ryota shouted, already moving toward a half-collapsed stone wall.
We'd stepped directly into the middle of a battle.
And I do mean middle, ground zero of active combat middle.
Medieval soldiers in armor that looked functional rather than decorative were everywhere, fighting with the kind of desperate intensity that suggested this was not a friendly sparring match. Swords clashing, magic crackling through the air in colors that hurt to look at, people screaming battle cries in a language I didn't recognize.
