"Dying?"

Adrian's voice cracked.

Lucien shot them both a fierce glare, then immediately vaulted up the hill to mount his stallion. Adrian followed in an instant, while Gaya was already thundering down the slope.

Lucien and Adrian raced behind her, the hooves of their Horned Stallions pounding the earth with raw power and lightning speed.

The Horned Stallions plunged down the slope, wind slashing past them as the treeline loomed closer. And there he was—a boy crumpled against the roots of an ancient oak, his chest rising in shallow, ragged breaths. His skin was ghostly pale, lips cracked, and his body bore the vicious marks of dark sorcery.

Gaya leaped from her stallion first, landing with cat-like grace and rushing to the boy's side. Her hand pressed against his chest, a faint silver glow spilling from her palm as she whispered an incantation. The light spread through his body like quicksilver veins, steadying his pulse, yet she hissed in frustration.

"I'll heal the boy! But that means I must focus completely—I'll have no time to help you fight."

She locked eyes with Lucien.

"They're no ordinary mages... there's something twisted about them. Something that makes my skin crawl."

Lucien met her gaze and smirked.

"Leave it to me."

Figures in black robes emerged from the tree shadows—at least a dozen of them. Their hoods devoured their faces in darkness, but the air itself grew suffocating with their presence, reeking of malice and charred incense. Dark Mages.

The first raised his hand, weaving a sigil of smoke, but his chant died as Lucien's Darkness Cutter flashed. The katana-like blade shimmered with a faint, hungry gleam, slicing the sigil apart like paper. In one fluid motion, Lucien was upon him, his grin razor-sharp and merciless.

Steel sang, and a robed figure collapsed in two neat halves.

Adrian had already vaulted from his stallion. With a flick of his wrist, green tendrils erupted from the earth, weaving themselves into a bow of living vines. He drew back, and the string hummed as a stem straightened into a glowing arrowhead. He loosed it in the same breath, and the projectile whistled through the air, burying itself in a second mage's chest. Roots exploded from the wound, coiling around the man's body and dragging him down into the soil.

"Two down," Adrian muttered, already nocking another arrow.

The forest erupted in chaos.

Dark bolts of corrupted energy streaked toward them, sizzling as they tore through grass and splintered trees. Lucien danced between them, his blade carving arcs of black light that cleaved through spell and flesh alike. Every swing of Darkness Cutter seemed to whisper hunger, as if the sword itself savored each kill.

Adrian's arrows rained with deadly precision, vines slithering from the ground to bind wrists and ankles, shattering the formation of the robed hunters. His every shot was a command, nature itself obeying him, and soon the ground was littered with bodies strangled in green coils.

Still, the mages pressed forward, chanting in guttural unison. From the ground, dark tendrils clawed upward, seeking to snuff out Gaya's silver glow. She ignored them, her focus unwavering on the boy, sweat streaking her brow. The glow around her hand pulsed brighter, almost defiant, as she bit her lip and forced more essence into him.

Lucien cut down another mage, his laughter sharp as steel.

"You picked the wrong forest to play shadow games."

He spun Darkness Cutter in a circle that shredded three more spells mid-flight.

Adrian landed beside him, breathing hard, bowstring pulled taut.

"They're not here for us..." He flicked his eyes toward the boy under Gaya's hands. "They want him."

Lucien's grin widened.

"Then let's crush their dreams."

Lucien was certain there had to be a reason they wanted the boy—perhaps it was connected to those strange eyes and the rising strength of the Barbarians at the frontier. Either way, to get any lead on their quest, he had to stop them from taking the boy at all costs. So yes, he really had to crush their dreams.

The chanting of the Dark Mages deepened, vibrating through the forest like a funeral dirge. Their black robes swelled unnaturally, as if the shadows themselves had fused with their flesh. A barrier shimmered into existence around them—a translucent wall of rippling darkness that deflected arrows and swallowed Lucien's blade-strikes like water absorbing stone.

Lucien clicked his tongue and drew back, his grin refusing to fade.

"So that's your trick? Hide behind a wall and call it magic."

One of the mages raised his hooded face. Beneath, there was no face at all—only a void with embers of crimson burning like hateful eyes.

"Not wall... coffin," the thing whispered. "For you."

The shadows lashed outward like a whip. Lucien ducked beneath it, rolling across the grass and springing to his feet, his katana poised. He slashed, but again the barrier caught the blade, devouring its edge with oily ripples.

Adrian cursed. His arrows slammed against the defense, bursting into vines that writhed for purchase but dissolved before they could take root. He shot again, each arrow reinforced with chanting, until sweat beaded his brow. Nothing broke through.

"Cien!" Adrian called out, eyes flicking back to the boy under Gaya's glowing hands. "We can't breach it—if they finish their incantation, the boy is gone!"

Lucien's grin sharpened. He tapped his foot against the earth like a man deciding where to place his next step in a dance.

"Then we stop their funeral march with fire."

Darkness Cutter trembled in his grip, hunger surging through its edge as Lucien whispered under his breath.

"Cleave."

The air cracked. A vertical wave of black steel-light shot forward, slamming against the barrier. The rippling shadow wall shrieked, sparks of corrupted energy flying like burning ash. For a heartbeat, the barrier shuddered—but it held.

Lucien laughed. "Not enough? Perfect. Let's make it fun."

He spun Darkness Cutter in a wide arc, his free hand flicking upward. A red glyph flared across his palm, spinning like a fiery sun.

"Fireball!"

The orb ignited, crackling with raw flame. But instead of hurling it straight, Lucien pressed the flaming sphere against the edge of his blade. Darkness and fire fused, the orb elongating, stretching along the steel until the katana burned like a torch of molten night.

Adrian's eyes widened. "What in the gods' name are you doing?"

Lucien winked. "Improvising."

He swung.

The fused strike roared forward—black flame coiled around steel-light, the Cleave empowered by fire. The collision shook the trees, wind howling outward in a shockwave as the barrier screamed in protest. The shadows cracked like glass, fissures racing across the surface.

The mages faltered, their chanting breaking for the first time.

Adrian seized the moment. He pulled back his bowstring, the vines twisting tighter until his arrow blazed emerald. He released, and the arrow split mid-air into a storm of thorn-lances. They tore into the cracks Lucien had made, prying the shadows open like roots shattering stone.

The barrier collapsed with a sound like thunder.

Lucien leaped through the rupture before the mages could recover, Darkness Cutter burning with residual flame. His laughter rang wild as he carved through the first of them, cleaving robe, shadow, and flesh in one merciless strike. The mage's body evaporated into smoke.

Adrian planted himself near Gaya and the boy, his bow weaving a living wall of thorns around them as bolts of darkness lashed toward their position. "You deal with them! I'll guard the kid!"

Lucien grinned, fire reflecting in his eyes.

"Perfect. Let's see how many coffins I can fill before they even touch the boy."

The remnants of the barrier dissolved into drifting black mist, but instead of dispersing, the vapor thickened, curling like serpents around the remaining mages.

Lucien froze mid-swing as the smoke clung to their bodies, seeping into their robes until their limbs grew elongated, their spines twisting in unnatural arcs. Hooded heads tilted back, and from within the shadowed voids came a chorus of laughter—low, guttural, and inhuman.

Adrian cursed under his breath. "They're not ordinary Dark Mages... they're Wraithbound."

Lucien tilted his head, still grinning though his grip tightened on Darkness Cutter. "Wraithbound? Sounds like they upgraded from creepy to downright hideous."

Adrian barked, voice strained, his bow already weaving another arrow of emerald light. "They've sacrificed their flesh to shadows. Normal wounds won't kill them—only soul-strikes."

Lucien's smile sharpened. "Lucky for me... I've got just the thing."

He dashed forward, Darkness Cutter humming, its hungry edge still licked by the lingering fire he had fused earlier. He slashed at the first Wraithbound, the blade cutting clean through its torso. The body fell apart—then dissolved into smoke, reforming a heartbeat later. Crimson eyes flared back at him from the void.

Lucien clicked his tongue. "Persistent bastards."

The Wraithbound lunged, claws of condensed shadow raking the air. Lucien twisted, ducking beneath the strike, then slammed his palm into the ground. A fireball erupted—not as a projectile this time, but as a burst of flame that expanded outward, scorching the shadow-smoke clinging to them. For the first time, their shrieks carried pain.

Adrian seized the opening. He loosed a glowing arrow straight into one creature's chest, vines sprouting from the shaft and burrowing deep, tethering the smoke to the soil. The creature convulsed, pinned and screaming as Lucien's katana cleaved down and severed its core. This time, it didn't reform.

"They can be killed," Adrian said quickly, voice taut, "but only if you burn the shadows away first!"

Lucien laughed wildly, eyes gleaming with bloodthirsty thrill. "Burn and cut? You could've just said it's a dance!"

He spun Darkness Cutter, fireballs swirling along its edge as he mixed strikes and flames into a relentless assault. One mage fell, then another—each kill requiring brutal timing, each shadow burned away before his blade claimed the core.

Still, more pressed in, their chants now warping the air with heavier resonance. The treeline seemed to darken, and from the soil around them rose skeletal arms made of pure night, clawing toward Gaya and the boy.

Adrian planted his feet. His bow blazed emerald, and from it he conjured not arrows this time but a wall of thorn-vines, rising like a fortress between Gaya and the wraiths. His voice thundered with strain as he shouted at Lucien: "Cien! End this! If they complete that summoning, it won't just be Wraithbound we're fighting!"

Lucien steadied his breath, Darkness Cutter trembling as if tasting the darkness ahead. He narrowed his eyes, grin fading into something sharper—deadly focus.

"Fine," he muttered. "Let's cleave the whole damned forest if I have to."

He lifted the blade overhead, fireball glyphs spiraling down his arm, merging with the katana's edge until it blazed like molten midnight. The ground cracked under his stance as his essence surged.

"Cleave—Inferno."

He brought the blade down.

The strike didn't just cut—it erupted. A wave of fire and black steel split the battlefield, devouring shadows, splitting the ground, and ripping through the chanting circle of Wraithbound. Their shrieks split the night as their bodies unraveled into ash and smoke, consumed by the fusion of flame and darkness.

Silence followed, broken only by Gaya's ragged breathing as the silver glow around the boy finally dimmed.

Adrian lowered his bow, vines retracting back into the soil. His chest heaved as he stared at the scorched clearing.

Lucien exhaled slowly, lowering Darkness Cutter, its black edge now steaming faintly. His grin returned, crooked and unrepentant. "Well," he muttered, "that was fun."

Gaya's voice cut through the quiet, sharp and cold. "Fun? That was a scouting party. The real threat hasn't even arrived."

The three of them turned to the boy—his eyelids flickered, and for the first time, his lips moved.

"They're... coming," he whispered hoarsely, before falling unconscious again.

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