CHAPTER 1008: SURROUNDED

The company had been retracing their steps for three long days. Their boots pressed over the same packed dirt and roots again and again.

At first, Arty thought little of it all. The forests looked similar for her after all.

But soon, the worry and anxiety gnawed at her. The same crooked oak with a hollow trunk. The same patch of moss clinging to a fallen log. Even the same sharp outcrop of rock they had passed yesterday.

Her chest tightened and she realized that they had been walking in circles.

At first, she tried to push it aside and thought she was imagining things. But eventually she couldn’t deny it anymore. Time itself seemed blurred.

Had they been walking for three days or even longer? she was not sure anymore.

Jan, leading the group, wore a grim expression, his eyes sweeping every shadow.

Hund stayed close by with his hand never far from his blade, his jaw clenched tight.

Esther and Annette, on the other hand, smiled at Arty whenever her unease became too obvious.

"Everything’s fine," Annette would say softly.

"Don’t worry, Arty. Just focus on walking," Esther would add with a small smile.

But their eyes betrayed them. Behind the gentle expressions lay their tension as if they knew something she didn’t.

The weight of that unspoken truth pressed heavier with every step.

Finally, Hund broke the silence. His eyes flicked around the trees before narrowing.

"There’s no mistaking it anymore."

Jan, walking ahead, gave only a silent nod.

Arty frowned. "What? What is it?"

Hund’s gaze slid to her. "We might be trapped in a very strong Magic illusion."

Arty’s heart lurched. "What?!"

Hund only nodded again, his face grim.

"We just need to make sure for these past few days. It’s possible to get lost in the wilds but with Jan leading us that was a small chance. Too small." Annette’s voice came light and reassuring, though her tone was firm.

Esther added gently, "Now we’re certain. This isn’t just Jan losing the way. We are walking inside an illusion that bends our path into a circle."

Arty’s throat went dry. "Since when...?"

"Since the second day after we left the place where the wyvern died," Jan answered. "I know these lands. I know the paths. But no matter how I lead, the edge of this forest folds back on us."

Arty looked around. And even she, an outsider from another world, began to notice the details.

The crooked oak. The moss. The rock. Always the same.

Her voice trembled. "So... what should we do?"

Esther exhaled, her lips tight. "Something like this won’t be resolved easily."

Arty lowered her gaze, guilt rising sharp and heavy in her chest. "I’m sorry... because of me, you all—"

Jan cut her words. "No. Don’t think like that."

Annette placed a warm hand on Arty’s shoulder and said with a soft voice. "Jan is right. The fault lies with those targeting you. Not you."

Arty nodded faintly, but her heart still clenched. Whoever was targeting her... she swore to herself, "If I find them, I’ll unleash everything on those bastards. They’ve dragged us into this mess!"

Suddenly Jan raised his arm, signaling sharply. Instinct pulled them all low to the ground.

"What is it?" Esther whispered.

Jan’s bow was already in his hands, arrow drawn. His voice came low and certain. "Around us."

As if on cue, Annette raised her hand and chanted quickly. Golden light shimmered into being wrapping them in a radiant dome just as the first volley came.

Arrows clattered against the barrier in rapid succession, striking from all directions.

The forest that had been eerily quiet a moment before now came alive with the hiss of bowstrings and the deadly rain of iron tips.

Arty’s eyes moved through the trees. Her breath was quick and shallow now. She trying to pierce the veil of shadows where the arrows had come from.

Her anger burned hotter than her fear and her aura flared instinctively, a shimmering ripple of energy crackled around her body.

The light of her Magic showing her mood clearly. It surged wild and untamed again, responding to her frustration and fury.

A warm touch landed on her shoulder. Arty turned and found Annette beside her smiling as though this chaos were nothing more than passing rain.

"It’s going to be okay," Annette whispered, her voice calm and steady like a strange anchor against the storm raging in Arty’s chest.

Arty stared at her in disbelief. That calm gentle smile, how could she manage it now when they were surrounded?

Annette’s eyes seemed to carry some quiet certainty as if she not only understood Arty’s turmoil but showing her reassurance of her own words.

"How can you still smile like that? We’re surrounded by enemies," Arty muttered, her voice tense.

Annette simply shrugged, her smile never faltering. "Like I said, it’s going to be okay. You have us."

Something inside Arty wavered at those words and the certainty in Annette’s tone. For a fleeting moment Arty blinked and wondered if she could truly believe it.

And strangely, she did.

Hund’s low chuckle broke through the tension. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword, eyes gleaming with savage excitement.

"These bastards really pulled out all of this just for us? Ha!" He flashed a grin that looked more like a predator baring its fangs. "Arty, you must’ve offended someone really important."

Arty stiffened. Hund might be right.

For someone to twist the forest itself with an illusion that they said was very strong and command this many men to hunt them, their enemy had to hold considerable power.

The thought chilled her but it also stoked her anger. Whoever it was, they wanted her crushed badly enough to unleash all of this.

The hiss of bowstrings stopped. The rain of arrows ceased leaving only the eerie rustle of the forest.

The unseen archers had realized the futility of their attack because Annette’s radiant dome had made their effort useless.

"I’m ready," Esther said suddenly, her voice calm, but her eyes glittering with a deadly resolve.

Annette gave a small nod, her hand lifting slightly before she dismissed the dome in a shimmer of dissolving light.

The barrier fell away.

Esther raised her staff. The carved runes along its shaft blazed with blue brilliance then a dozen searing Magic missiles erupted to all direction.

They whistled through the air like streaking stars before exploding across the treeline.

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