The dust from our sudden arrival was still settling, swirling in the shafts of sunlight that pierced through the thick forest canopy. I stood with my white gold sword gripped firmly, the weight of the blade a familiar comfort in my hand. Beside me, Celdrich remained perfectly still, his expression unreadable, though the air around him felt sharp and pressurized. In front of us, the girl in the silver-gold armor didn't look relieved. If anything, her grip on her own slender sword tightened, and her long pink hair swayed as she adjusted her stance, her eyes flashing with a mixture of suspicion and pride.
"Who are you?" the girl instantly asked, her voice ringing out with a sharp, commanding edge that seemed to cut through the low growls of the surrounding bandits. She stepped slightly in front of the blonde-haired boy with red eyes, her armor gleaming with a brilliance that felt out of place in this grimy, shadowed clearing. Before I could even offer an explanation or a greeting, she followed up with a dismissive wave of her free hand. "We don't need you! We can handle this ourselves!"
Her rejection was blunt and immediate, a stark contrast to the dire situation they were clearly in. The broken carriage behind them was a mess of splintered wood and torn fabric, and the circle of bandits was far too large for just two people to manage indefinitely. I opened my mouth to respond, to perhaps tell her we were just passing by and couldn't leave them like this, but Celdrich beat me to it.
"Be quiet," Celdrich said. His voice was flat, carrying an icy finality that seemed to momentarily stun the girl. He didn't look at her, nor did he wait for a rebuttal.
Before she could say anything else, before the indignation could even form on her face, Celdrich was gone. He didn't run or leap; he simply vanished from the spot beside me. A split second later, a dull thud echoed from the left side of the clearing. I turned my head just in time to see one of the largest bandits—a man wielding a rusted mace—collapsing into the dirt. Celdrich had reappeared directly behind him, his movement so fast it defied the eye. He didn't use a weapon; his hands moved in precise, rhythmic strikes that sent the bandits sprawling.
The suddenness of his attack broke the standoff. The bandits let out a collective roar of anger and confusion, their attention shifting from the two stranded travelers to the new threat in their midst. Seeing Celdrich already in motion, I didn't hesitate. I lunged forward, the white gold sword whistling as it cut through the air. I didn't aim to kill, but the flat of my blade and the hilt were just as effective in the close-quarters chaos. I drove my shoulder into the nearest attacker, sending him reeling backward into two of his companions.
The clearing became a blur of motion. I moved with a steady, practiced grace, my boots finding purchase on the uneven ground as I wove through the crowd of attackers. Every time a bandit tried to bring down an axe or a jagged knife, my sword was there to parry the blow, the white gold metal ringing out with a clear, melodic chime. I could hear the sounds of Celdrich working on the other side of the clearing—the muffled impacts of his blows and the sudden, startled cries of the men he was systematically knocking down. He was a shadow, appearing and disappearing with a frightening efficiency, never staying in one place long enough for a weapon to touch him.
The girl and the blonde-haired boy stood by their carriage, momentarily forgotten by the mass of bandits who were now focused entirely on us. I caught a glimpse of the girl's face—her eyes were wide, her mouth slightly agape as she watched Celdrich's teleportation. Ishighi, the boy with red eyes, remained leaning against the carriage frame, his gaze tracking our movements with a quiet, intense curiosity.
Just as it seemed we were thinning their numbers, one of the bandits near the edge of the forest pulled a small, wooden whistle from his belt and blew a sharp, piercing note. The sound echoed through the trees, a high-pitched signal that sent a chill through the air.
"Backup! Get in here!" one of the bandits screamed, his voice cracked with desperation.
Almost immediately, the forest seemed to vomit forth even more attackers. A bunch more bandits came rushing out from the thickets, their boots thumping against the mossy floor as they swarmed into the clearing. There must have been twenty or thirty more of them, a ragged tide of steel and leather that threatened to overwhelm us by sheer volume. They were shouting, their eyes wild with greed and malice as they saw the two new targets who had dared to interrupt their raid.
I tightened my grip on the white gold sword, feeling the sweat begin to bead on my forehead. The numbers were daunting, but I didn't feel fear. I looked over at Celdrich, who had paused for a fraction of a second to assess the new arrivals. He didn't look worried; if anything, he looked slightly annoyed at the interruption.
The battle resumed with a fresh intensity. The reinforcements were more aggressive, throwing themselves at us with a reckless abandon. I was forced to move faster, my sword a flashing arc of white gold as I deflected spear thrusts and dodged heavy swings. I felt the air from a passing mace ruffle my hair, but I stepped inside the bandit's guard, delivering a sharp blow to his midsection that folded him in half. I turned and swept the legs out from under another, my movements feeling fluid and natural, a result of the hours we had spent training under Sir Vael's watchful eye.
Celdrich was a whirlwind of motion. He didn't just knock them down; he seemed to be everywhere at once. One moment he was at the front of the line, and the next he was behind the archers who had tried to take aim from the trees. He moved with a cold, calculated precision that left no room for error. Every time he reappeared, another group of bandits would fall, their weapons clattering to the ground as they lost consciousness.
The sound in the clearing was immense—the shouting of men, the clashing of metal, the thud of bodies hitting the earth, and the rustle of the wind in the high branches. But through it all, we remained untouched. Celdrich and I knocked all of them down, our movements becoming a synchronized dance of defense and retaliation. It didn't take long. Despite their numbers, the bandits were disorganized and untrained compared to the trials we had already endured. Within minutes, the tide of reinforcements had been broken, the clearing littered with the groaning, unconscious forms of the men who had tried to ambush us.
The silence that followed was heavy and sudden, broken only by the sound of our own breathing and the distant, fading calls of the birds that had been startled by the noise. I stood in the center of the clearing, my sword lowered but still ready, my eyes scanning the perimeter to ensure no more were coming. The dust began to settle again, coating the broken carriage and the fallen men in a fine, grey layer.
Celdrich walked back toward the center of the clearing, his clothes barely ruffled despite the chaotic struggle. He stopped a few feet away from the girl and the boy, his expression returning to its usual mask of detached observation. He looked at them for a long moment, the silence stretching between us.
"My name is Celdrich," he suddenly said. His voice was calm, the tension of the battle having left it entirely.
I stepped up beside him, sheathing my white gold sword with a sharp, metallic click. I wiped a bit of dust from my face and looked at the two travelers, who were still standing near the wreckage of their transport. "My name is Sogha," I added, trying to keep my voice steady.
The girl looked at us, her gaze moving from me to Celdrich and then to the dozens of unconscious men surrounding us. Her slender sword was still in her hand, though she had lowered it slightly. She looked a bit annoyed, her brow furrowed and her lips pressed into a thin line, as if she were still frustrated that we had intervened despite her earlier protest. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her silver-gold armor, her pink hair shimmering in the afternoon light.
"Zhandra," she said, her voice still carrying that sharp, aristocratic edge. She didn't offer a thank you or a smile; she simply stated her name as if it were a challenge. She then gestured with her chin toward the blonde-haired boy standing behind her. "And the boy's name is Ishighi."
Ishighi didn't speak. He just gave us a short, meaningful nod, his red eyes tracking our every move with a quiet, unsettling intensity. He seemed far more composed than Zhandra, his posture relaxed despite the ruins of their carriage and the battle that had just concluded.
I looked back toward the road, where I knew Sir Vael, Elphyete, and the others were waiting in our own carriage. The clearing felt small and crowded with the four of us and the dozens of fallen bandits. The forest was quiet again, the shadows of the trees stretching long across the mossy ground. We stood there in the aftermath of the clash—Celdrich, Zhandra, Ishighi, and me—the broken carriage a silent monument to the ambush that had brought us together. The southern road was still long, and the king was still far away, but the group had just grown by two, and the air in the forest was thick with the weight of this new, unexpected encounter.
I looked at Zhandra's annoyed expression and Ishighi's red eyes, wondering what kind of travelers they were and what had brought them to this dangerous stretch of the road. But for now, the bandits were down, the names had been exchanged, and the journey toward the Absolute Mana Elixir continued, even if the path had just taken a sharp and complicated turn. We stayed in the clearing for a moment longer, the silence of the woods wrapping around us like a shroud, before the reality of our mission pushed us back toward the waiting carriage and the long miles that still lay ahead.