I sprint towards ritual ground, clutching Ryoshi tightly in my arms. Her body feels cold, her breathing shallow. When I reach the ritual ground, I see Akriya reinforcing the entire area with thick trees and sprawling vines. Enemies are relentlessly hacking through, their blades slashing at the living barrier. Suddenly, a deafening thunderstorm erupts, sending bolts of electricity surging through the battlefield, clearing a path by obliterating several attackers.
I scan the area frantically and find Lucior amidst the chaos. "Where's Eran? Ryoshi's been poisoned!" I shout over the raging storm.
Lucior, parrying two enemy blades at once, barely spares me a glance. "I don't know! He's fighting—" His words are cut off as another opponent lunges at him, forcing him to engage in battle.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot an enemy raising his blade toward me, but before he can strike, Akriya's vine slams him away.
"Vitrit!" a deep voice calls from behind. I turn sharply and see the tribal chief standing firm despite the chaos. His presence is reassuring.
"She's poisoned," I gasp, my voice laced with desperation. "Her body's turning green—please, do something!"
The chief examines Ryoshi briefly, his expression grim. After a moment of hesitation, he nods. "In the middle of war… fine. Follow me!"
Without wasting a second, we dash toward the forest, weaving through fallen bodies and burning patches of land. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and the lingering crackle of Lucior's lightning. My arms ache from carrying Ryoshi, but I push forward.
Soon, an enormous tree looms ahead, its thick roots twisting like ancient serpents. A network of wooden houses is nestled among its branches. The chief gestures upward. "Climb!"
I scale the rough bark, my grip tightening around Ryoshi as I hoist us both onto a wide platform. As soon as I land, a cluster of tribal women rushes forward, eyes widening in shock.
"Who is he? What's happening at the ritual ground?" they ask, panic evident in their voices.
The chief raises a hand, silencing them. "No time for questions. She's been poisoned in battle. Treat her—now. These warriors are fighting for our side."
The women swiftly take Ryoshi from my arms and rush her into one of the treehouses. My hands, now empty, feel strangely weightless as I watch them disappear behind a wooden door. One of the women, the one who carried Ryoshi, urgently calls for an elderly lady inside. The door shuts behind them, leaving me outside, exhausted.
Sweat drips down my forehead as I struggle to catch my breath. My limbs ache, but despite my fatigue, I turn to the chief and ask between deep breaths, "Why are all the women hidden here?"
The chief exhales heavily, his gaze firm. "It is the leader's command. Every time the ritual is performed, an attack is inevitable. Our enemies seek to steal the ritual book, so we shelter all the women here for their safety."
I wipe the sweat from my brow, frowning. "If you knew an attack was coming, why didn't you prepare a plan to stop it?"
The chief's expression darkens. "We don't have a large enough army to counter them directly. And trust… trust is scarce in times like these." He glances toward the battlefield below. "That's why we delayed the warriors heading for the den mission—until the ritual was complete. We couldn't risk giving them information."
His words sink in, but something still feels off. I narrow my eyes. "Then how did this attack happen? You thought delaying them would be enough?"
The chief clenches his fists. "We never expected the attack to come from within… disguised as warriors."
Before the chief can respond, the door to the treehouse creaks open, and a woman steps out. I immediately halt my conversation and turn to her, my heart pounding.
"Is Ryoshi okay?" I ask urgently.
The woman shakes her head, her expression grim. "Her condition is not well. The poison is spreading fast. I'm going to prepare a medicine, but don't worry—she will survive."
Her words bring little relief. My fists tighten. I want to stay by Ryoshi's side, but my mind is also consumed by thoughts of my friends still fighting at the ritual ground. I take a deep breath and turn to the chief.
"Chief, stay here and protect these people," I say firmly. "I need to return to the battlefield. My friends might need me." I lock eyes with him, my voice steady but urgent. "I'm trusting you—don't break my trust."
The chief nods solemnly. Without another word, I turn and sprint toward the ritual ground, my legs moving before my thoughts can catch up. The weight of responsibility presses on my chest, but I push forward. I have no time to hesitate.
The sun blazes overhead as I reach the ritual ground, sweat dripping down my forehead. My eyes scan the battlefield—Akriya's wooden tomb, built to protect the leader and the ritual, now lies shattered. Most of the enemies are either slain or retreating. Amidst the chaos, I spot Eran, his red-glowing sword slicing clean through an enemy's neck.
Then, above us, two figures—a man and a woman, the ones who orchestrated this entire attack—stand on a tree branch. Their gazes burn with cold determination.
"Don't think this is over," the woman warns, her voice cutting through the heavy air. "We'll return."
Before anyone can react, they dissolve into the wind, vanishing like ghosts.
Eran and Lucior remain on guard, watching the empty space where the enemies disappeared. But something feels off. That's when I realize—Akriya is missing.
"Where's Akriya?" I ask urgently, scanning the battlefield.
Lucior's voice comes from behind me. I turn to face him.
"I saw him half an hour ago," Lucior replies. "He was fighting against an enemy who wielded wind magic. But after that... I lost sight of him."
Eran's eyes narrow. "Lucior, go and search for Akriya."
I step forward. "Should I come too, Eran-teacher?"
He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. "No. Stay here and protect the ritual and the leader. We can't ignore their warning." His expression darkens. "I have something important to take care of."
Without another word, they dash off in opposite directions, leaving me behind. I clench my fists, frustration bubbling inside me. Now, all I can do is wait... and hope they return safely.
Akriya stands firm on a thick tree branch near the border of the tribal area and the dark forest. The golden, electrified shield flickers behind him, humming with energy—a fragile wall keeping the demons at bay. Beyond it, monstrous figures shift restlessly in the dark forest, their guttural roars sending shivers through the trees.
Just in front of him, on the peak of another tree, stands Krik—the wind controller. The air around him is alive, swirling with unnatural force as if the very wind bows to his will. His long coat flutters violently, his piercing gaze locked onto Akriya with cold determination. A smirk creeps onto his lips.
"Boy, this is your last day! You can't hide more" Krik shouts, his voice slicing through the howling wind.
Akriya doesn't react immediately. Instead, he takes a slow breath, his eyes unwavering. He raises a single finger.
"Take a deep breath," he murmurs, voice calm. "And wait until it ends."
In that moment, the tree beneath him rumbles and comes alive. Its trunk stretches skyward, towering above the battlefield as branches expand like a titan awakening. Leaves rustle with newfound vigor, and vines slither down like serpents preparing to strike. With the faintest movement of his hand, Akriya commands the forest itself.
Krik remains unmoved, standing atop his own tree, his grin never fading. The wind howls around him, ready to meet nature's challenge.