The path Kael had chosen was not made for human feet.

The terrain was rugged, covered in roots as thick as snakes, and the air seemed thicker, saturated with ancient mana. Each step echoed like a muffled whisper among the trees—and each whisper sounded like a warning.

He walked forward without looking back.

The princess was unconscious again, her body too light in his arms. Kael adjusted her against his back, tying the cloak around her so it held her steady. The warmth of her breath on his neck was the only proof she was still alive.

And that was all that mattered.

Behind him, the rest of the group struggled to keep up. Irelia followed close behind, sword drawn, eyes alert for any movement. Amelia trailed behind, muttering softly as her staff emanated a cold glow to light the way. Sylphie, finally, walked with silent steps, her palm pressed against the trees as if she could feel them breathing.

The path led them to a deep ravine, where the earth cracked into moss-covered crevices. The air was heavy, damp, smelling of iron and sap.

Amelia broke the silence first.

"I should have guessed your 'shortcut' would lead us straight to hell," she said, huffing.

The sound of her voice echoed through the ravine, and Irelia shot her a sharp look.

"Keep your voice down," the swordswoman murmured. "This place... doesn't like noise."

Kael paused for a moment at the top of a rise and looked around. The trees there were ancient, older than any human castle. Their trunks were twisted, and their leaves were black at the tips. A strange wind made the tops tremble, but the sound wasn't leaves. It was... breathing.

Sylphie approached, her gaze distant.

"This is spirit soil," she said softly. "The forest here is alive. And it remembers everything that happened within it."

Kael didn't answer. He simply adjusted the princess's weight on his back and continued down.

Each step sounded deeper, further from the world above.

As if the forest were swallowing them.

Hours passed.

The moonlight had completely disappeared, replaced by a dense gloom. The only light came from Amelia's staff and the soft glow of the runes engraved on Kael's sword.

They stopped beneath a formation of root-covered rocks, a sort of natural shelter. The princess was still asleep, her face pale, her breathing ragged. Sylphie knelt beside her, murmuring prayers in a forgotten language.

Irelia stood, her hand firmly on the hilt of her sword.

"This won't work for long," she said. "We're in forbidden territory. Not even hunters come here."

Amelia arched an eyebrow. "And who exactly forbade it? The spirits?" she tried to be ironic, but her voice sounded weak and unconvincing.

Sylphie answered, without looking up.

"Yes."

The silence that followed was uncomfortable.

The distant sound of trickling water echoed between the stones.

Kael stood at the entrance to the shelter, watching the forest. His golden eyes seemed to capture every movement, every shadow.

Ever since he had destroyed the tracker, something had been bothering him. A feeling—not just of being watched, but of being... waited for.

Irelia approached him.

"Aren't you going to rest?" she asked.

Kael took a moment to answer.

"I can't." His tone was low but firm. "If I stop now, I'll start thinking. And if I think, I'll hesitate. And I can't afford that."

Irelia studied him for a moment.

"Why are you... taking this so seriously?" she asked, curious and cautious... her dear Kael wasn't someone who cared that way about a stranger.

Kael turned his face toward the sleeping princess.

"If you knew what I learned, you'd want to understand too."

He looked up at the overcast sky, his expression hard. "We'd better just make sure she gets to Azalith; we have to be on our guard with this girl."

Irelia saw the way he said it and didn't press further. She simply nodded and walked away, leaving him to his thoughts.

Dawn fell heavy and cold.

It was then that Kael heard it.

A crack.

Faint, distant, but clear.

He straightened instantly, his senses awakening.

The trees were too still. The wind was still. Even the light from Amelia's staff seemed to dim, as if in fear.

"Wake up," he said in a sharp whisper. "Now."

Irelia reacted first, drawing her sword. Amelia raised her staff, conjuring light. Sylphie was already rising, pulling the princess to her side.

The sound came again—closer now.

Branches snapping. Leaves being dragged.

But it wasn't an animal.

It was coordinated.

Kael swung his sword, and gold ran down the blade like liquid fire.

"Don't ignite too much magic," he said, his eyes fixed on the shadows. "They can see light better than we can."

Amelia snorted. "'They'? Who are 'they'?"

"I don't know, something in the darkness is coming."

Because he already knew.

Out of the darkness, something moved. Too fast to be human. A silhouette—long, hunched, eyes glowing pale green. Then another. And another.

Sylphie took a step back, her heart pounding.

"War spirits..." she murmured. "They've been called."

Irelia instinctively stepped forward, blocking the first blow. Her blade ricocheted against something that seemed to be made of smoke and steel at the same time. The creatures were human in form, but not flesh.

They emanated an ancient presence—a mixture of resentment and memory.

Amelia extended her staff, muttering a prayer. The ground froze beneath their enemies' feet, but they didn't stop. The ice cracked as if the air itself protected them.

Kael handed the princess to Sylphie and advanced.

"Stay with her." His tone left no room for argument.

Sylphie grabbed the princess's body, pulling her behind the shelter.

Kael then swung the sword in a perfect arc.

Golden light exploded.

The spirits retreated for a moment, hissing like burning smoke.

But they returned.

He fought soundlessly. Each blow was pure instinct.

The sword tore through shadows, dissipating bodies that crumbled into ethereal ash.

But they kept coming.

Amelia conjured a wall of ice. Irelia cut down those who got in their way. Sylphie kept the wind shield around the princess, her body trembling with effort.

Kael felt the weight growing around him.

It wasn't just spirits.

It was the forest itself reacting to their presence.

A root rose from the ground, trying to grab his leg. He cut it, but another appeared soon after. The trees trembled, as if breathing rage.

"Kael!" Irelia screamed. "This won't stop!"

He knew it.

And then he made his decision.

He ran to Sylphie and grabbed the princess back. She tried to protest, but he silenced her with a look.

"Take the others back the way." His voice was low, urgent. "I'll clear a path."

"You'll die if you go alone!" Amelia screamed.

"Only if I stop." He smiled wearily, his eyes burning. "And I don't intend to stop."

Before they could react, he turned and sprinted into the woods.

Kael ran.

The weight of the princess on his back felt like an extension of himself—a burden and a purpose.

The ground vibrated beneath his feet, the roots twisted, trying to grab him. The wind howled through the trees, but he didn't stop.

His body burned, his muscles screamed, and still, he ran.

The sound of the spirits behind him was like the echo of a thousand distorted voices, blending into a chorus of rage and pain. Each step seemed to tear the air, leaving greenish trails of corrupted mana. Kael could feel them approaching—and also the heavy gaze of the forest, alive, pulsing, almost curious.

He passed through a natural archway formed by two twisted trees. As soon as he passed, the branches closed behind him like jaws.

"Shit..." he whispered, gasping.

He knew he was alone now.

There was no turning back.

The air was thick, oppressive. Ahead, the path descended into a slope shrouded in green mist, and the sound of rushing water echoed in the distance—an underground river. The princess shifted slightly behind him, murmuring something through her daze.

"Shh..." he said, steadying her. "Hold on just a little longer."

The ground tilted suddenly, and Kael nearly lost his balance. Her cloak caught on a branch; he tore it away without hesitation, feeling the cold wind sting his face.

One of the spirits appeared ahead—translucent, with an iron mask floating above nothingness.

Kael paused for a moment, twirled his sword in a guarded position, and waited for the attack.

The creature moved like lightning, and Kael reacted instantly.

The golden blade pierced the ethereal chest, ripping it in two. The energy shimmered and dissipated, but the blow echoed through the forest, as if it had offended something greater.

More figures appeared. Ten, twenty, maybe more.

Kael gritted his teeth, his breath ragged.

"I won't fall here."

He focused his energy. The golden glow in his eyes intensified, and the blade of his sword began to vibrate, as if reacting to an ancient power.

The ground beneath his feet cracked, and a runic circle formed.

The spirits hesitated, instinctively retreating.

"Let them all come..." Kael murmured. "I won't run."

The burst of mana was so intense that the trees bent. The golden energy spread in waves, coursing through the spirits' bodies, and they screamed—screams without sound, just a suffocating vibration in the air.

For a brief moment, everything was silent.

Kael fell to his knees, his body trembling.

The sword pulsed in his hand, alive, hungry. He looked at the blade and saw golden reflections moving within it—as if something were waking up.

The princess moaned into his shoulder, her face against his neck.

"...?" Her voice was weak, sleepy.

He took a deep breath. "Stay calm. It will pass."