The forest of Vanghlan rose like a wall of shadows, dense and unyielding, its canopy filtering the sunlight into trembling shafts of green light. Every step Laxyie and Lyla took was measured; the soft brush of leaves underfoot could hide a trap, a footstep could announce their presence to unseen eyes.
Laxyie adjusted the strap of his dagger sheath, the weight familiar and comforting. His mind, however, was far from the forest floor. He couldn't stop thinking about Lyla's words last night, about her Valor-Bound disciplines, about Iron Resolve, Tempest Blade, War Cry, and all the raw intensity of a warrior's willpower. Could I even come close to that? he wondered. What am I?
Lyla's green hair shimmered faintly in the filtered sunlight as she moved ahead, every motion deliberate, every swing of her sword measured. Even in a quiet forest, her aura exuded authority, a subtle tremor of power that made the birds flinch in mid-flight. Laxyie studied her carefully, noting how the weight of her sword was nothing to her, how her steps were perfectly balanced, how every instinct was sharpened to a deadly edge.
"Stay alert," Lyla whispered, eyes scanning the shadows. "The bandits know these woods. They use traps, ambushes, and the terrain to their advantage. Don't underestimate them."
Laxyie nodded, though inwardly he was consumed by more than caution. He felt the pulse of the forest, the faint traces of life in the undergrowth, and the subtle glimmers of residual magic. His Sensory Veil tingled faintly, though he had yet to master its full potential. Every heartbeat around him, every hidden movement, pressed against his awareness, reminding him that he was still learning, still weak.
They had barely entered the forest proper when they spotted the bandits' encampment. Several crude tents dotted a clearing, fires smoldering, and the occasional glint of steel caught the light. A group of bandits lounged lazily near the fire, sharpening axes and muttering. Others patrolled the perimeter, unaware that two intruders were crouched just beyond the treeline.
"Seven guards on patrol, two at the entrance," Lyla murmured, crouched behind a moss-covered rock. "Two more near the fire. The girl's probably being held near the largest tent."
Laxyie's hands clenched around his dagger. "We can't waste this. I need to test my senses… I need to see what I can really do."
Lyla's eyes narrowed. "Then be precise. Focus your intent. Let your body and reflexes do what your mind cannot yet control. Misstep, and it could be the end."
He exhaled slowly and let the Sensory Veil bloom in his awareness. Heartbeats, subtle movements, traces of elemental magic—everything around him became visible in a pale, ghostly glow. He could feel the hesitation in a patrolling bandit, the nervous twitch of a wrist holding a bow, and the faint tremor of the fire reflecting off the metal.
Lyla signaled silently. They advanced, weaving through the trees, the underbrush crackling beneath their careful steps. Laxyie followed her lead, letting his senses guide him.
The first strike came unexpectedly. One of the patrolling bandits caught a glimpse of Lyla's movement and shouted a warning. She reacted instantly, her sword a blur, cutting him down before he could draw his blade. The other bandits scrambled, weapons raised.
Laxyie ducked under a swinging axe, rolling across the forest floor. He felt the rush of adrenaline, the pulse of life in every enemy, every subtle motion. For the first time, he began to understand what Lyla had been teaching him. Intent. Awareness. Control.
Bandits charged from multiple directions. Lyla's war cry tore through the forest like thunder, a valor-infused shout that boosted her strength and terrified her enemies, sending several stumbling backward. Laxyie's dagger followed his intent, slashing with precision, dodging the swings and parries of the surprised bandits. Each movement was measured, deliberate, guided by the faint trace of magic and life his senses revealed.
Hours—or what felt like hours—passed in a blur of steel and motion. Every bandit they felled revealed the skill gap between them, and every new attack challenged Laxyie to adjust, adapt, and trust his reflexes. His muscles burned, sweat stung his eyes, but he could not stop. Every heartbeat around him was a warning, every shimmer of magic a hint of danger.
Finally, only the bandit leader remained, wielding a massive, crude axe that gleamed in the filtered light. His guards were down, morale shattered, and yet he stood, sneering, ready to fight to the last. Laxyie felt a surge of determination. Memories of his mother, of Tyke's small face looking up to him, of every battle he had faced since the goblin fight, surged through his veins.
The leader swung with brutal strength, but Laxyie anticipated it, rolling under the heavy swing, feeling the sheer weight of the axe pass above him. Lyla was already in motion, her sword arcing in a tempest of green and silver light. She unleashed a full War Cry, a Valor Manifest, her aura of command boosting Laxyie's reflexes and striking fear into the bandit leader.
The leader's axe clanged harmlessly against the forest floor as Lyla's sword struck true. Laxyie's dagger found its mark in a quick, precise strike, and the bandit fell, defeated.
The forest fell silent again, save for the wind and the distant call of birds.
"That… was incredible," Laxyie murmured, still catching his breath. "You're… something else."
Lyla shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. "This was only a small test."
"I know," he said, eyes dark with determination. "I'll get there. And soon
Just as they secured the chief's daughter, a distant rumble shook the trees. Lyla's War Cry faded into the air, leaving a lingering echo in the forest. Both she and Laxyie froze, senses alert.
From the shadows of the dense forest, a massive shape emerged, its wings stretching wider than any they had ever seen. The ground trembled with every step it took. Its body was a terrifying fusion: the muscular frame and claws of a bear, and the wings, beak, and piercing gaze of a griffin.
The beast let out a roar that shook the canopy, a sound that carried both fury and intelligence. Laxyie's dagger felt suddenly too small in his hand, and even Lyla's fingers tightened on her sword as her eyes widened.
For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Neither warrior moved, both staring at the creature that now towered before them, a living nightmare awakened by the force of Valor Manifest.
And in that tense silence, the forest seemed to hold its breath.
The battle, it seemed, was far from over.