The next day, the forest had grown quiet—too quiet.
They moved deeper into the corrupted woods, alert and on edge, expecting an ambush at any moment. Vell raised his hand, halting the group as his predator-like eyes squinted, scanning the unnaturally still trees.
"Something is here," he muttered, his voice low.
"I feel it too. We are being watched," Wren said, her mana-infused claws extending instinctively.
Before Vell could reply, a sword came flying out of the shadows, aimed directly at his head. He caught it casually between two fingers. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it flying back in the direction it came from, using the exact same amount of force. The enemy then revealed themselves. Two figures were perched on the branches of the trees, while the other two stood on the ground, blocking their path.
'Hmmm.' He looked at them all, his expression unreadable, but one thing was certain: these were not ordinary enemies.
