The air in the Elf Village had grown still—eerily so. The fading sound of alarm bells underscored the growing panic as elves rushed about. One girl elf turned to another man elve, her voice laced with concern. "Do you know where our chief is?"
He shook his head, replying, "Oh no, I haven't seen him."
Her voice rising with urgency, she called out, "Has anyone seen our chief?"
Zahir moved stealthily, weaving between the huts and ancient trees. His eyes were sharp, his steps practiced. He reached the northeastern edge of the village, where a lone hut stood nestled among thick roots and vines. His bracelet pulsed faintly—he was close. He said to himself, "I believe I'm in the right place, just as Ravin described."
Inside the hut, Meera's brows furrowed, her breath catching in her throat. A faint, unfamiliar pressure pressed against her thoughts—a foreign mind. In his thoughts, Meera, listened. He is searching.
"Something's wrong," she whispered, standing abruptly. "Someone's looking for us."
Madhav looked at her, confused. "You mean—you just heard someone's thoughts with your mind-reading skill?"
She nodded quickly. "Yes. He's looking for the persons... the one traveling with the Centaur."
Mohit stiffened. "But Ketaki said this hut was safe."
"If he's already inside the village," Madhav said grimly, "then he's planned this well. It's not safe anymore."
"Then I'll check outside," Mohit said, already moving toward the door. "If the way is clear, I think we need to find Uncle Beni first."
Madhav was lost in thought.
Meera placed a hand on Madhav's shoulder. "For now, we need to reach Uncle Beni. I know you want to fight, but now also you haven't fully recovered, you need support."
Madhav nodded, his jaw set. He said "okay."
Mohit slipped out through the door quietly… only to stop short. A figure stood just outside, leaning against a tree as if he had all the time in the world. He looked confident, a smirk curling across his lips.
"Well, well," Zahir said, his voice light but laced with menace. "Going somewhere?"
Mohit's fists clenched.
Mohit stood frozen, his body tense as he blocked the narrow path from the hut. Meera and Madhav stepped out cautiously behind him, the air thick with silence. Above, the trees rustled softly, a stark contrast to the chaos that must be unfolding in the village beyond, where the faint scent of smoke from the earlier explosion still lingered in the breeze.
Zahir offered a theatrical bow, his tone dripping with mockery. "Ah, and there they are—the two lovebirds emerging from their cozy little nest. How very romantic."
Meera narrowed her eyes, her voice sharp and cold. "Who are you, and what do you want? Are you the one behind the chaos in the village?"
Zahir grinned, clearly unbothered by the tension in her voice. "Oh, no, no. The honor of this lovely distraction goes to my brilliant friend. A bit of an experiment, really. He wanted to test—'How quickly can a peaceful elf village lose its mind over two undead guests?' And well, you've seen the results." He punctuated his words with a loud laugh.
Madhav's fists clenched at his sides. "You endangered lives. Innocent elves."
Zahir shrugged casually. "Collateral damage, my friend. Nothing personal. You see, I'm just here to collect something—or someone."
Meera stepped forward, her voice firm. "Why? What do you want with us?"
Zahir looked at her with playful eyes and tilted his head. "Oh, that part's above my pay grade. But I do know someone is very… interested in something here. I was just sent to kidnap someone one of you. No big deal."
As Zahir moved quietly, his thoughts tangled like vines. Where are Sunil and Ravin? Ravin said they'd be here by now… or do I have to handle everything alone?
She Used her skill, Meera listened to his thoughts. Suddenly, a calm yet clear voice cut through the air.
"You're not alone," Meera said, stepping forward, her eyes glowing faintly with an ethereal light. "There are two other person with you."
Zahir blinked, startled, then gave a half-smile. "Well, well… Miss, I'm impressed. Seems you've got some kind of skill up your sleeve. But no worries." He cracked his knuckles, confidence dripping from his voice. "I can handle this situation just fine.
Here, Madhav turned to Meera and Mohit, his voice low but steady. "I think I should go and deal with this person. I have power, so in that time, please leave as soon as possible."
"No," Mohit said firmly. "You're still recovering. You collapsed in the middle of the last fight, remember?"
"He's right," Meera added quickly. "Let's deal with him together."
Mohit nodded, stepping forward. "Yeah.
Zahir chuckled, almost kindly. "Such confidence. I love it." His grin widened. "But, I'm afraid you all are also absolutely useless."
Fury sparked in Mohit's eyes. Without a word, he lunged at Zahir, fists clenched, his heart ablaze. But Zahir stood still—calm, balanced. In a blur of motion, he countered every strike with fluid precision, no weapon in hand, only the mastery of unarmed combat.
Within moments, Mohit lay on the ground, gasping, unable to stand.
Zahir dusted off his hands and looked at Meera with a theatrical sigh. "Well, that was... easy. I didn't even need to use my weapon." He raised an eyebrow.
Madhav's voice cracked through the air as he saw Mohit lying motionless on the ground, unable to stand. "Mohit! Why did you go alone?!" he shouted, his fists clenched with helpless frustration.
Zahir simply smiled, unbothered, and reached behind him. The metallic whisper of steel sliding from its scabbard filled the air as he unsheathed his sword—a blade unlike , gleaming with an shimmer. The moment it caught the light, Meera's eyes narrowed.
She stepped closer to Madhav, her voice barely a whisper. "I'll go first. My target is the sword. Once I make a move, you strike. Got it?"
Madhav nodded, determination blazing in his eyes. "Got it. But be careful," he said, his eyes fixed on Zahir. Then, he announced, "On the count of three, we both move." As they counted...
With that, Meera dashed forward, her footsteps light but fast. Madhav followed, his heart pounding in rhythm with each stride. But Zahir, already anticipating their plan, raised his sword, a spark of excitement gleaming in his eyes.
"Let's dance."
He swung the blade through the air—and as if reacting to his emotions, the sword pulsed. A wave of liquid magic burst forth, and a glowing magic circle formed in the air around Madhav. Water spiraled upward like a living serpent, enclosing Madhav in a sphere of shimmering liquid.
"Wha—?!" Madhav gasped as the magic water locked around him, his body frozen mid-motion, unable to move.
Meera halted for a split second,as she turn toward to she madhav, her eyes wide with alarm. "Madhav!"
Zahir's gaze snapped to her, that unsettling grin still plastered on his face. "Oh, don't worry," he said mockingly, "He'll be fine. Eventually. But you? You're special. I want to fight you—alone. I want to see what color your blood makes on my blade and
If your severed body parts are scattered here and there on the ground. Sounds fun, doesn't it?"
Meera's pulse quickened. Tension curled in her chest like smoke. She didn't respond—just took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing with focus.
"Free him, now," she said, her voice icy.
Zahir tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "No."
With that, he lunged at her.
The clash began. Steel hissed as Zahir's blade sliced through the air with precision and speed, but Meera danced through his attacks, graceful yet sharp. She wasn't just reading his body; she was reading his mind with help of her skill , anticipating the intent behind each movement.
Slash. Dodge. Lunge. Pivot.
Each time he struck, she was already moving, her mind syncing with his rhythm. Frustration flickered in Zahir's eyes.
"Oh, clever girl," he hissed. "Reading my thoughts? That's cheating."
Meera didn't answer—she just moved. She was watching, calculating, waiting. Because one missed thought could cost her everything.
A sudden flash tore through the air—a small bladed knife, whistling with deadly intent, flew straight toward Zahir's head.
But he was faster.
With a flick of his wrist, Zahir's sword swept through the air, and magic appeared. Droplets of water shimmered into existence mid-swing. The blade didn't deflect the knife directly—instead, the conjured water formed a dense wall that caught the knife mid-flight, slowing it to a crawl as if time itself had hesitated.
Zahir's eyes followed the slowed blade, then flicked to the source of the attack.
Standing a short distance away, poised with resolve and fierce elegance, was Ketaki.
Her voice rang out like steel. "Hey, unknown human. Who are you, and why are you fighting a girl who doesn't even have a weapon to defend herself?"
Zahir smirked. "Name's Zahir. And I'm doing my job. So don't interfere, elf girl."
But before he could even finish his sentence, Ketaki bolted forward in a flash of silver. She leapt, dagger raised high, and slashed downward. Zahir raised his sword just in time to block it, dagger sparking against magic sword. Ketaki flipped back and landed in a crouch, her eyes blazing.
"You can breathe now, Meera," she said without taking her eyes off Zahir. "I've got this."
Meera stepped back, saying, "He's dangerous. Please… be careful."
Zahir sighed dramatically. "You're interrupting my dance, elf girl. I was mid-conversation."
Ketaki's glare sharpened. "You humans brought those zombie undead into our village. I should end you just for that."
Zahir's grin faded, replaced by a hard edge. He pointed his sword at her. "Fine. You want a fight? Let's see what you've got."
They collided like thunder meeting wind.
Sword clashed, magic flared. Zahir's blade shimmered, alternating between liquid water and blinding light, each strike imbued with elemental power that throbbed with his very emotions. He unleashed an Offensive Onslaught: blinding flashes of light ripped through the air, seeking to disorient, followed by searing beams of pure energy that could pierce steel and flesh alike.
But Ketaki was a whirlwind of defiance, her movements relentless as she sought to evade his every attack.
Her dagger danced with intricate, woven magic, her enhanced reflexes allowing her to duck, weave, and strike with deadly precision. Spells slipped seamlessly between her agile maneuvers—razor-sharp blades of wind, invisible walls of crushing pressure, and crackling sparks of raw elemental force.
They were equals in fighting.
Zahir possessed raw speed, a blur of motion that pressed the attack, but Ketaki's strikes were honed to a razor's edge, finding the slightest openings. His blows carried immense force, threatening to shatter bone, but she moved with the battle itself, a part of its chaotic rhythm.
Each time Zahir surged forward with elemental fury, Ketaki met him with spell of flame and blade.
Breathing heavy, sweat gleaming across his brow, Zahir's smile widened. "You're good, elf girl. But are you done?"
Ketaki's eyes narrowed. "Not yet."
She chanted a word under her breath, gathering her final surge of power. Her dagger shimmered, ablaze with magical flames, and she lunged at Zahir—her entire being enveloped in light and raw magic, poised to deliver a devastating, final blow.
But just as the strike was about to land—
Clink.
Suddenly, a metal ball spun through the air, landing squarely between them. It burst with a concussive blast, light and sound erupting like a sudden thunderstorm. The shockwave slammed into Ketaki, throwing her back to crash heavily onto the ground several feet away.
Emerging from the dissipating smoke, as casual as ever with an air of nonchalance, was Sunil.
"Tsk. You're too rough, Zahir," he said with a lazy smirk. "Let me handle the clean-up."
Zahir exhaled, lowering his shimmering sword. "Took you long enough."
Ketaki groaned, her head swimming as she tried to push herself up from the ground.
Meera gasped and rushed towards her.
Madhav, still trapped in the water magic, stared wide-eyed at the two strange invaders—his mind spinning, searching for any chance to get out from this.
As Sunil approached with a lazy grin, casually brushing dust off his shoulder. "Ugh, that Centaur came out of nowhere and slowed me down. That's why I'm late—sorry, partner," he said, flashing a playful glance at Zahir.
Zahir sheathed his sword with a casual flourish. "So Ravin isn't here yet?"
"Nope. But no worries." Sunil cracked his knuckles. "We'll finish the job ourselves."
He glanced around, surveying the scene—Ketaki lying injured on the ground, Meera struggling to rise ketaki, and Madhav still trapped within the glowing ring of enchanted water.
"Wow," Sunil whistled softly, a hint of admiration in his tone. "One kid already captured, an elf warrior injured—Zahir, my boy, you really are something else."
With a glint of something wild in his eyes, Zahir grinned. "Of course. I told you—I'm the best."
"Alright, show-off," Sunil said with a chuckle, then reached into the air as if plucking something from nothing. With a flick of his wrist, again rope came out from air —an item from his skill storage space, that act like a snake motion. He tossed it effortlessly.
The rope soared through the air, twisting unnaturally as though it possessed a mind of its own. In a blink, it coiled around both Ketaki and Meera, binding their arms and legs tightly.
Meera thrashed, her teeth clenched, straining against the unyielding rope—but nothing worked. Her body felt weak and useless.
Zahir chuckled, stepping forward. "Oh, sweet girl," he said mockingly, "you won't be able to use any of your skills with that thing wrapped around you. It's enchanted—locks away your will like chains of silence."
Sunil raised a brow. "She was that much trouble?"
Zahir sighed dramatically. "You have no idea. Every move I made, she saw it coming. Like fighting someone watching your thoughts in a mirror."
"Damn. That's a rare artifact," Sunil muttered, impressed. "But—don't forget—we still have one left."
Zahir grinned. "Oh right. Time to break the sword power spell."
He raised his hand and take out his sword , from that a light and causing water droplets to shimmer in the air around it. With a low hum, the water spell dissolved—the circle of energy fading like mist in the morning sun.
Madhav collapsed to his knees, coughing and sputtering. Then, his eyes blazed with fury. In an instant, he sprang to his feet and charged—pure rage fueling his weakened body. "Free my friends," he roared, "or you'll both be responsible for your own fate!"
"I've got this," Sunil said coolly, a hint of amusement in his voice.
He pulled another rope-like item from his storage space and hurled it with practiced precision. Madhav twisted to dodge, his body reacting on pure instinct. The item rope whipped past him, narrowly missing its mark.
But Sunil didn't stop his advance. He was already closing in—his movements fluid and swift, like a fighter in the heat of battle. With a second flick of his wrist, the enchanted rope lashed out once more.
This time, it struck true.
The rope snaked through the air, ensnaring Madhav mid-leap. He hit the ground hard, securely bound and utterly unable to move.
"Gotcha," Sunil said, walking over with a grin. "You almost had me there. Not bad for someone just out of a magical drowning."
Zahir let out a long breath, eyes gleaming with excitement.
Zahir dusted his hands as he turned toward the bound captives. "Let me check what these four have," he said with a smirk, walking over with deliberate steps.
Sunil leaned back lazily, glancing around. "Yeah, yeah, just do it quickly. I hate waiting. What's taking Ravin so long?"
Zahir crouched beside Mohit, patting him down. "Nothing," he muttered. He moved to Ketaki, then Meera—again, nothing of interest.
But when he reached Madhav, something shifted in the air. The boy's eyes burned with quiet resistance, his mouth still sealed shut by the rope's magic.
Zahir reached into Madhav's pant pocket and paused.
"What's this?" he said, slowly pulling out a small, old box—etched with strange symbols, its surface cold to the touch.
The moment Sunil caught sight of it, his eyes widened. "That's it," he whispered, a note of surprise in his voice. "That's the one. Just like the intel said…"
A rush of excitement surged through Zahir's veins. "So it is true," he murmured, a hint of triumph in his voice. Without hesitation, he opened the box.
Inside lay a single gold coin—unusually bright, as if untouched by time.
The moment his fingers grazed its edge, the atmosphere shifted. The air turned thick and heavy, as though the world itself held its breath.
A sudden chill swept through the clearing. Shadows stretched unnaturally long across the ground, accompanied by a faint, deep hum that filled the air with a sense of creeping horror.
Zahir's smile faltered. What's happening? he thought, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach. Why has the atmosphere changed so suddenly?
When he try look other, Around him Sunil, Ketaki, Meera, and Mohit began to smile with horrifying intensity—eerily, their faces twisted into grotesque expressions. Their eyes no longer seemed their own, filled with a vacant, unsettling light.
Zahir staggered back, clutching the coin. "Sunil…?" he asked, his voice cracking with fear. "Why are you smiling like that?"
Sunil didn't answer.
A low, whispering sound echoed from all around, like wind sighing through the bones of the earth.
And then—darkness began to coalesce into form.
From the edges of the forest and the very ground itself, two… no, three figures emerged—their bodies forming like clouds of smoke given shape. They hovered, formless yet watchful, as if unseen eyes peered out from within the swirling gloom.
A chorus of voices, dry as dust, began to speak.
"Toucher of the Coin... I am here for you. Speak your wish, and it shall be granted. We will fulfill your deepest desire."