Aylin's breath caught in her throat as a dark blur cut through the air toward her. Instinct screamed at her to move, and she leapt back, boots skidding over the dirt.
The bird wasn't large—its wings no wider than her forearm—but the sharp glint in its eyes told her size was a lie. Every fiber of her being whispered that this creature carried strength far beyond its frame.
A shadowed voice drifted toward her, low and calm.
It made her grip the hilt of her saber tighter, knuckles whitening.
She couldn't afford to falter—not now, not here.
The fate of her village weighed against the steel in her hand, and she would not let it slip away.
The crow's shriek split the air, so loud it rattled her bones. Its body shimmered, the edges turning translucent until it seemed to melt into nothingness. In the blink of an eye, the world around her shifted—her vision flooded with new shapes, colors, and shadows.
When the blur solidified again, a soldier in full iron armor stood before her, sword in hand.
"This—"
She didn't have time to finish the thought. Steel hissed toward her head, and she dove sideways, narrowly escaping a blow that would have split her skull.
Her mind raced.
Illusions? Could that be possible?
She ducked another swing, heart pounding. "Is this… illusions? How can such small creatures have this kind of power?" she murmured under her breath, twisting and weaving away from the soldier's unrelenting strikes.
A few paces away, the long-haired man with the blindfold simply watched her. His stance was relaxed, but she could feel his gaze on her—sharp and unyielding, even through the cloth over his eyes.
"You catch on quickly," he said, voice almost amused. "That crow is an S-rank creature. The Mirrorwing Crow. It can disappear into its surroundings… and create illusions."
Her saber clashed against the soldier's blade with a metallic crack, sparks flaring in the air.
"It can create illusions that fight?" she demanded, pushing back against the soldier's strength.
"Yes," he replied with maddening calm. "The illusions are substitutes—reflections of the things it sees daily. They can wield the power of their original forms… sometimes even at their full strength."
Her eyes narrowed.
So this was no ordinary trick. The crow's illusions could kill.
"Then it's not something to underestimate," she muttered. "In that case—"
In one fluid motion, she tossed her saber high into the air. The soldier lunged forward to strike, and she rushed in barehanded. Her weapon vanished in a shimmer, dissolving into her body.
The blindfolded man tilted his head. "Foolish woman…" he murmured under his breath.
But what happened next made even him stiffen.
She closed her eyes. Without sight, she slipped under the soldier's swing as though she could feel the air shift before each attack. Her body twisted, coiled like a spring. Then she leapt—two meters into the air—legs straightening mid-spin. Heat flared around her limbs, flames licking her boots.
"Take this!"
Her kick landed like a meteor. The soldier's armor buckled and cracked with a deafening sound, shattering into jagged fragments that clattered to the ground. The armored figure staggered before breaking apart entirely—revealing, once again, the crow at its core.
It screeched in outrage, wings beating furiously.
Aylin smirked, easily dodging its frantic swipes.
"Is that all? For an S-rank creature, you're disappointing me."
Her words were like a spark to dry tinder. The crow's feathers rippled, and its form twisted.
Her blood ran cold.
It became him.
The same man who stood just a few feet away—long, dark hair, blindfold, and all.
"Shit," Aylin hissed.
From somewhere beyond, Aysel watched the scene unfold through Aylin's eyes, breath caught in her throat.
The real man remained leaning against the base of a large tree, expression unreadable. "What will you do now?" he murmured softly.
Aylin raised her hand. Magic flared around her fingers, weaving itself into luminous ribbons that swirled protectively before solidifying into a shimmering shield. She didn't dare take chances—not when she didn't know what the real man's powers were. Even if this was an illusion, she wouldn't lower her guard.
The illusory blindfolded man lifted his hand, and a sphere of darkness coalesced in his palm. Another formed. Then another. Soon, dozens of dark orbs floated in the air like stars in a lightless sky. The world dimmed, the sky itself darkening under the weight of shadow.
Aylin's magic surged.
"I won't let you win!" she shouted.
A void of light erupted before her—vast, radiant, and hungry. It devoured the incoming spheres one by one, swallowing the darkness whole. Then she leapt again, eyes closed, hair streaming behind her as she hovered above the ground.
The sun flared at her back, light wrapping around her like an embrace. It was as if the daystar itself answered her call.
She unleashed it.
A burst of searing sunlight tore through the air, striking the illusion with such force that the ground beneath them burned, grass curling into ash. The heat left deep, smoking scars in the earth. Animals fled into the forest, driven by pure instinct to escape the overwhelming force.
Aysel could barely breathe.
She's casting magic without even speaking a spell…
The crow's imitation shattered, its stolen body unraveling. The true creature fell from the sky, its feathers charred, body battered.
Aylin landed softly and darted forward, catching it before it hit the ground.
"I've got you," she murmured. Her hand glowed with a soft light—green and blue intertwining like ribbons in water. The healing magic washed over the crow, mending burnt feathers and knitting wounds shut.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, voice gentle. "I know you were only following orders…"
The crow blinked up at her, letting out a small, almost grateful croak. It nuzzled her palm, and she smiled faintly.
"It's alright. I went too far too."
Footsteps crunched against the earth. She looked up sharply.
The blindfolded man now stood before her.
"Truly impressive," he said in that same emotionless tone. "You won so effortlessly. It seems you are far more than you appear."
He raised a hand, and a creature no larger than his palm appeared in a swirl of light. It was a tiny dragon, scales soft and petal-shaped, shimmering in pastel hues. The air around it carried the scent of fresh blooms.
"This is the gift I promised you for your victory," he said. "A Petalscale Dragonet. It is of the same rank as the Mirrorwing Crow."
At the mention of its name, the crow took wing, gliding to perch on his shoulder.
The little dragon fluttered toward her, wings beating delicately. Its eyes shone with eagerness, as though asking to stay by her side.
"…Thank you?" she said, still unsure, watching him warily.
Sensing her caution, he added, "I have no interest in using deceit to defeat you. If I had the time, I would face you myself."
The words hung in the air for a heartbeat before he straightened.
"My time is up. Until we meet again."
And with that, he vanished—taking the crow with him—leaving Aylin alone with the tiny dragon, its petal-soft wings brushing against her cheek.