The night lay thick over the forest, the closed canopy blocking the moon from illuminating the path. The smell of damp earth and rotting leaves filled the air, muffled by the almost artificial silence. Only the sound of cautious footsteps broke the stillness: four figures advanced among thick roots and shadowy bushes.

Irelia led the way, her hand steady on the sword strapped to her waist, her eyes alert as of a beast on alert. Amelia followed close behind, holding the ice staff that pulsed with a bluish glow, a subtle chill emanating from her skin. Sylphie walked close to the princess, her green aura pulsating in tune with the surrounding forest—every leaf seemed to lean slightly toward her, as if acknowledging her presence.

The princess, sheltered in the center of the formation, kept her hood lowered, trying to appear calm, though her eyes betrayed nervousness.

"I don't like this…" Irelia murmured, stopping suddenly and raising a hand in warning. "It's too quiet."

Sylphie closed her eyes, expanding her natural magic. The wind blew softly, bringing her the whispers of the trees. She frowned.

"There's movement ahead. Lots of it. Surrounding us."

Amelia raised her staff, and flecks of ice danced around her hand.

"Finally. I was getting bored." Her voice sounded calm, almost cold, but excitement shone in her eyes.

From the middle of the forest, the first whistle cut through the silence, followed by a sharp crack. An arrow shot toward the princess. Irelia reacted in a flash, drawing her sword. The steel flashed briefly before slicing through the air and deflecting the arrow.

And then, all hell broke loose.

From every direction, bandits emerged. Men covered in torn hoods, armed with short swords, axes, and crossbows. The circle closing around them was too numerous to be casual.

"Ambush!" Irelia growled, stepping into a fighting stance.

The bandit leader emerged from the trees. A brute with scars across his face, holding a two-handed axe. He pointed at the princess with a cruel smile.

"Surrender and hand over the maiden. Perhaps we'll let you live."

"Try," Irelia snapped, her body advancing before the bandits could even react.

Irelia was the first to attack, her sword slashing in a perfect arc. The steel gleamed in the light of the makeshift torches, slicing open the chest of the first enemy. She spun, disarming another and delivering a swift thrust to the throat.

Behind her, Amelia raised her staff and slammed it into the ground. A wave of cold exploded in all directions, covering the ground in ice and sending several bandits slipping. With a gentle gesture, she closed her hand, and pillars of ice rose from the ground, impaling three enemies at once.

Sylphie, beside the princess, spread her arms. The wind blew stronger, leaves and vines twisting like serpents. The tree branches bent violently, whipping the bandits with the force of the forest itself. A thick root emerged from the ground and grabbed an enemy by the ankle, pulling him down until it snapped in two with a grotesque crack.

"Stay behind me!" Sylphie shouted to the princess, as she fired a beam of green energy at another group trying to approach.

The battle spread like wildfire.

Irelia danced among the enemies, each blow accurate and deadly. She dodged axe blows, counterattacked with impressive speed, and used her opponents' weight against them. Blood spattered the stones, staining the ground.

A bandit tried to stab her from behind, but Irelia swung the blade masterfully, severing his arm. Another came with a spear; she ducked and lunged, plunging her sword into his stomach before he could retreat.

Amelia, further away, stood almost motionless, like a statue. Her eyes glowed blue, her staff raised. The air around her was white with cold. When a group of ten men rushed toward her, she simply pointed at them. A storm of ice spears appeared out of nowhere, piercing them all at once. Their blood froze the instant it touched the air.

"You're too slow," she murmured coldly.

Sylphie, on the other hand, was pure savage fury. Her magic pulsed in waves that made the trees shudder. Vines sprouted from every corner, tying necks and breaking spines. One of the bandits tried to cut the roots with a sword, but was crushed by a trunk that split in half and fell on him, guided by the sorceress's will.

The bandit leader roared, cutting a path toward the princess. His axe swung down in a brutal arc, aiming for Irelia. The swordswoman raised her blade, and the impact was deafening. His force pushed her back, but Irelia dug her heels into the ground, holding on tight.

"You won't pass," she spat, and counterattacked with a flurry of rapid slashes, each blow echoing off the steel.

The battlefield descended into utter chaos. The flames of the torches flickered in the wind Sylphie summoned, mingling with the biting cold of Amelia's magic. The ground was a mixture of ice, broken roots, and blood.

Still, more and more bandits emerged from the woods. They screamed like madmen, driven by greed or the promise of easy gold.

"There are too many!" Sylphie shouted, deflecting a dagger that nearly struck the princess. With a sudden gesture, she caused a wall of roots to grow, separating them from a group of archers. "They're trying to separate us!"

Amelia bit her lip, looking around. "Then let's burn them all at once."

She raised her staff and focused her magic. The air grew heavy, the cold growing so intense that ice crystals began to form in her hair. With a violent gesture, she released the energy. A brutal blizzard swept across the field, freezing trees, enemies, and even the ground itself. The silence that followed was broken only by the sound of bodies cracking and shattering.

But the leader resisted. His dark aura seemed to shield him from the cold. With a roar, he shattered the icy chains that bound him and charged straight at Amelia.

Irelia intercepted. Their blades clashed again, sparks exploding in the air. She snarled, forcing the enemy back.

"Stay away from her!"

Their duel intensified. The leader's axe was heavy, each blow shaking the ground. Irelia relied on her speed, dodging by the skin of her teeth and counterattacking, but his strength was superhuman.

Meanwhile, Sylphie noticed a second group of bandits attempting to attack from the trees, leaping from branch to branch like predators.

She closed her eyes, feeling the heart of the forest. The wind roared like an animal, and in response, dozens of nocturnal birds emerged from the canopy, swooping down on their enemies with sharp beaks and talons. Then the trees themselves shifted, branches closing in like giant hands to crush the bandits.

The battle seemed endless. The ground was strewn with dead, but the enemies were still there. The princess stood behind Sylphie, terrified but untouched.

Amelia, exhausted, leaned on her staff, still gathering energy. Her icy gaze showed no sign of fatigue, only determination.

"Time to end this." she murmured.

She raised both hands, and the air instantly froze. Above the trees, a gigantic spear of ice formed, as large as a whole tree. With a gesture, she hurled it at the battlefield. The impact was devastating: the ground shook, dozens of bandits were reduced to pieces, and the forest was covered in a wave of ice that stretched for meters.

Irelia seized the opening. With a war cry that echoed through the trees, she swung her sword in a devastating arc, severing the leader's arm. The brute roared, blood gushing in hot jets, but before he could react, Irelia stepped forward and plunged the blade into his chest, piercing flesh, bone, and fury.

He fell to his knees, eyes wide, spitting dark blood. The swordswoman shoved him roughly, and his body collapsed to the sodden ground, the earth trembling with its weight.

A heavy silence fell over the forest.

The surviving bandits, once raging, stood stunned before the scene. Their leader's severed arm still smoldered on Amelia's ice; his carcass lay imposing, like a warning. One by one, they began to retreat. Some, desperate, ran into the darkness of the woods. Others, trembling, simply dropped their weapons to the ground, the metallic clang echoing like bells of surrender.

The forest, once filled with the sound of steel and screams, breathed again. The wind carried the acrid smell of blood and ice, mingling with the rustling of the leaves.

Irelia stood erect, her sword still dripping red. Her breathing was heavy, but her eyes burned with unwavering focus. Amelia, her staff still glowing pale blue, discreetly wiped the sweat from her forehead—the cold aura around her slowly dissipating. Sylphie, kneeling before the princess, stretched out her hands, carefully checking to see if any injuries had gone unnoticed.

"You are safe now," he murmured, his voice soft but firm, like a root buried in the earth.

The princess looked up. Her tear-filled eyes shone in the moonlight filtering through the canopy. For a moment, the mask of courage slipped, revealing the raw relief of someone who had walked on the brink of death.

"You... you saved my life."

The silence was broken only by Irelia's dry reply. She wiped her blade automatically, sheathing it immediately, and let her gaze roam the shadows of the forest.

"Make no mistake, princess," he said, his voice low, sharp as steel. "This was only the beginning."

And the night wind carried her words forward, mingling with Amelia's chill, the scent of Sylphie's broken sap, and the iron of the blood still dripping onto the earth.