The silence after the fight was almost deafening.

Kael stood there, panting, feeling the sweat running down his face, mixed with the blood of the men he had killed. His breathing was ragged, but he dared not relax. The dead around him did not mean victory; they only meant delay for the enemies still advancing through the forest.

He wiped his sword once more on the fallen leader's cloth and crouched beside him. He took back the real map, already stained with dried blood, and examined it carefully. The notes were precise: alternate routes, ambush points, rendezvous points between the groups of assassins.

His gaze fixed on "Moon Stream" and the "stone marker with the broken plaque."

"Those points are unavoidable…" he muttered to himself. "They plan to surround the girls there."

Kael's heart raced. He knew that stream; he remembered drinking from its waters during the prison break. The place was treacherous: the sound of the rushing stream muffled footsteps, and the dense vegetation made it easy to hide dozens of men. It was the perfect setting for an ambush.

"If I move faster, maybe I can turn the trap against them."

He stood up, clutched the map to his chest, and began moving through the woods, toward the stream. Each step was a weight, not just physical, but emotional. He saw, in his mind, Irelia's face—the determination in her gaze, her sword always in front of her, protecting them all. He saw Amelia, frowning, probably complaining about some stupidity he had done. And Sylphie, calm, but with the tense sweetness of someone carrying another's life in her hands.

And, above all, the image of the princess—fragile, young, vulnerable, surrounded by death advancing in the night.

Kael sped up.

The forest seemed more alive by the minute. The branches creaked, the wind blew in different directions, and each sound could have been an enemy or simply nature itself. Kael no longer knew if what he heard were echoes of his mind or reality closing in around him.

He paused for a moment, leaning against a tree, and closed his eyes.

"Come on... think."

If it were Irelia, she would have taken the most direct route, seeking speed. If it were Amelia, she would have preferred open terrain, where she could use ice magic without the risk of colliding with the trees. Sylphie, however, would choose the hidden shortcuts, the green corridors of the forest. And she was probably the one guiding the group.

Kael opened his eyes decisively.

"You chose the valley. It has to be."

He resumed his run.

The hours dragged by, and finally he heard the sound: the stream. The gentle flow of water cut through the forest like a peaceful song, but Kael knew what lurked behind that melody.

Crouching among the bushes, he glimpsed a portion of the clearing. The scenery was as he remembered: large, moss-covered rocks, arching branches forming a sort of natural tunnel, and the water reflecting shards of moonlight.

But it wasn't empty.

On the other side of the stream, shadows moved. Men. Assassins. A group of at least ten, standing silently, preparing themselves. Some sharpened short blades, others adjusted crossbows. One of them, clearly superior, watched the trail from which the girls would likely emerge.

Kael held his breath.

"They're already ready. Damn them…"

He needed to think fast. If he attacked head-on, he'd be overwhelmed. If he retreated, he wouldn't have time to warn.

His gaze then fell on something nearby: a fallen log partially in the stream. The dry roots pointed like claws toward the sky. There, perhaps, he could create a distraction.

Kael slid silently along the bank, keeping low. He took a small vial of flammable oil from his bag—one of the few he still carried. He soaked some dry leaves in it, stuffed it into a hole in the trunk, and pulled out the flint. A soft crack echoed, and within seconds, thick smoke began to rise.

The wind did the rest.

The assassins on the other side noticed.

"Fire?" one of them muttered.

"No... smoke." The leader narrowed his eyes. "Someone's here. Stay alert."

While they were distracted, Kael took advantage of the opportunity to move around the side, getting closer and closer. His heart felt like it was about to explode, but his mind was clear: he couldn't kill them all, but he could clear a space for the girls to escape.

"If they come down this path, they'll fall right here. I have to... turn the tide."

He pulled out three small daggers and stuck them strategically in the ground, tied to thin fiber ropes that barely reflected light. It was a makeshift trap, but enough to unbalance enemies who rushed forward.

"Come on…" he whispered, hiding behind a larger rock.

The minutes passed like hours. The fire slowly died down, but the smoke still lingered. The assassins took turns, restless. Then, a new sound cut through the air: light but firm footsteps.

Kael held his breath.

From the main trail, figures were approaching. He would recognize those silhouettes anywhere. Irelia, sword drawn, walking ahead like a wall. Behind her, Amelia, staff in hand, eyes alert, magic shimmering at her fingertips. Sylphie, further back, guided the princess, shielding her with her body.

Kael felt an overwhelming relief and, at the same time, a fear greater than before. They were exactly where they shouldn't be.

On the other side, the leader of the assassins raised his hand.

"Now."

The men prepared to leap.

Kael reacted first. He rose from behind the boulder and fired the crossbow he had taken from a dead enemy. The arrow sliced through the air and pierced the neck of the first assassin, who fell without a sound. Almost instantly, Kael pulled the string he had set. Three advancing men stumbled and crashed violently to the ground, breaking their formation.

"Ambush!" the leader's voice echoed.

Irelia looked up in surprise, but did not hesitate.

"Form position!"

And the forest exploded into chaos.

The blades flashed under the moon.

Irelia advanced like a storm, her sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. Each blow was a line of fire, repelling two assassins at once. She did not scream, did not hesitate: she fought as if the world depended on her alone.

Amelia raised her staff, muttering ancient words. Ice formed on the ground, spreading like crystalline roots, trapping the feet of three enemies. They struggled, but were soon swallowed by icy spikes that tore through their legs.

Sylphie remained close to the princess, but not passive. With a gesture, living roots emerged from the earth, whipping enemies and eliciting screams of pain. Her eyes glowed green, and the forest seemed to heed her call.

And Kael, from the shadows, became a predator. He leaped from stone to stone, striking isolated targets. A quick, sharp cut, followed by silence. He didn't need to be seen—just to be effective.

The fight turned into a massacre.

But it wasn't easy. The assassins were disciplined, organized. The leader shouted orders, and slowly they regrouped, surrounding the girls.

Kael sensed the danger. "If you keep this up, you'll close in."

He ran to the bank of the stream, picked up one of the fallen torches, and threw it into the water. The oil that had been spilled earlier ignited, creating a barrier of fire that separated half the group. The heat lit the night, and screams echoed as some were caught in the flames.

Irelia cast a quick glance to the other side, where Kael emerged from the shadows.

"Kael?!"

He didn't answer. He simply raised his bloodied sword as a warning: keep fighting.

The leader of the assassins roared in rage.

"Kill them all! Leave no one alive!"

The fighting intensified. Irelia charged at two enemies at once, dodging, spinning her blade like a whirlwind. Amelia raised ice walls to protect the princess, while Sylphie created root tunnels to confuse her opponents.

Kael took advantage of the chaos. He engaged one of the assassins in a direct duel. Blades clinked, and each blow risked death. The enemy was fast, but Kael fought like someone who refused to accept failure. Fear drove him as much as rage. He blocked a blow and, with a desperate twist, plunged his sword into the man's side. Blood gushed, and the body fell.

But the price came quickly: another blade sliced through his shoulder. Kael gasped, staggering.

"Irelia noticed and roared:

"KAEL!"

He didn't answer, just stood. "I can't fall now. Not yet."

Taking a step back, he steadied his sword and charged at another enemy.

The fight lasted for long minutes that felt like centuries. The smell of blood and smoke filled the clearing, and screams echoed like thunder. Little by little, the assassins fell, one by one. Some tried to flee, but were hunted by the very forest Sylphie had summoned.

When the last of them fell, bloodied, to the ground, only silence remained.

A silence broken by everyone's heavy breathing.

Kael dropped his sword for a moment, dropping to one knee. He was exhausted, his body throbbing with pain, but alive. He looked up and saw Irelia approaching, the blade still dripping with blood.

"You…" she began, panting. "You're an idiot."

Amelia approached soon after, her face sweaty, but still arrogant. "Idiotic and suicidal. But… it worked."

Sylphie smiled, helping the princess to her feet.

"I knew you'd come back."

Kael tried to laugh, but only managed to cough up blood.

"It took me a while, but… I never stopped running to you."

Irelia held out her hand to him, helping him to his feet.

"Next time, don't you dare keep us waiting so long."

He squeezed her hand firmly and looked at them all.

"I promised I'd come back. And I'll keep that promise, until the end."

The moon shone down on them, reflected in the now blood-stained stream.