Lifeless bodies y sprawled across the earth, their still forms a stark contrast to the once-vibrant emerald canopy now consumed by roaring fmes. The pungent scent of burnt mana hung heavily in the air, intertwining with the echoes of fierce battle that sent tremors through the early hours of the day.

  The grand mage bsted yet another searing beam of crimson fmes, its intense heat licking the air as it hurtled towards Mustapha. The impact of the bst propelled the knight several feet backward, his armored boots scraping against the ground as he blocked it just in time with the summoned knightshield. The shield, translucent, resembling delicate gss yet wielding the resilience of steel, its crystalline surface absorbing the fiery onsught with a resolute shimmer.

  Unfortunately it cost lots of mana, especially to block attacks from a second-order mage. Across the field, the grand mage himself exhibited signs of his own mana depletion, the telltale signs of fatigue and drain etched across his visage. But he is still a grand mage Mustapha knew to be cautious. He watched as the grand mage nonchantly deflected a barrage of powerful mana fused arrows, not bothering where they nded. Normally it would be to their advantage to drag out a fight against mages but the kingdom's soldiers were dying faster than he expected and only the knights were putting much of a fight.

  A sword arced toward him, he batted it aside and drove his bde through the skull of the swordman, kicking another attacker away. A mana fused sword cut through his armor, nicking his chest. The sword came back again but Mustapha jumped backward as the silver swished by him, an inch from his neck. The man lunged but Mustapha twisted, smmed his hand against the ft of the sword, then leapt forward as the weapon sliced the armor over his ribs, and hammered a fist into the man's face. The strange 'mercenary' staggered back with blood pouring out of his mouth. A second blow crashed under his heart, only snapping a rib. He went down, losing grip of his sword as Mustapha's bde descended with unrelenting force, cleaving through shoulder and muscle, nearly rending him in two.

  These were no ordinary mercenaries, he thought. As he leaned down to unmasked him, a faint rustle of sound prickled his senses from behind. Reacting with instinctive swiftness, he whirled around, his shield fring to life in a desperate bid for protection. Yet, the onsught's might proved overwhelming, a tidal wave of force that caught him off-guard, hurtling him through the air with a bone-jarring impact against a crooked tree trunk.

  Agony erupted within him as multiple ribs splintered under the crushing blow, the intense pain robbed him of breath, and his throat convulsed, expelling a spatter of blood as his body contorted in distress.

  Mustapha's battered form persevered, his sheer determination propelling him upright once more almost immediately.

  The mage, visibly drained and breathless, regarded Mustapha with a mixture of shock and disbelief. A flicker of surprise crossed his features as he gnced down at the lifeless body of the mercenary, the unexpected outcome still registering in his eyes. His attention then shifted, casting an expectant gaze in the direction of the king's location, anticipation lingering like a heavy fog. The unfulfilled hope carved disappointment across his countenance, a subtle flicker of realization dawning upon him.

  With a deft wave of his right hand, an incantation danced from his fingertips, and fmes surged to life, devouring the fallen mercenary's remains with a relentless hunger.

  5 mercenaries on horsebacks rushed to take advantage of Mustapha at his weakened state. With an adrenaline-fueled surge, Mustapha's battered form straightened, his gaze hardening as the imminent threat galloped towards him. The pounding hooves of the mercenaries' horses drowned in the air of the battle. Without hesitation, Mustapha's grip tightened on his bde, his every movement a testament to a fight or die spirit.

  As the first mounted enemy closed in, Mustapha's bde arced with practiced precision, cleaving through the air to meet the charging horseman. The csh was a chorus of steel meeting steel, a resonating csh that echoed amidst the tension-filled atmosphere. The force of the impact reverberated through Mustapha's arm, his muscles straining against the weight of the blow. With a powerful twist of his body, he exploited the horseman's momentary vulnerability, delivering a swift kick to the side that unseated him in a tumble of limbs.

  Simultaneously, the second mercenary spurred his steed forward, a gleaming bde glinting in the dappled sunlight. Mustapha pivoted on his heel, parrying the descending strike with a visceral deflection that sent sparks dancing through the air. The sharp cng of metal against metal punctuated his resolve, and in a seamless continuation, he lunged forward, his own bde seeking out the chink in the mercenary's defenses. The resulting csh was a collision of serious skill and sheer willpower, the outcome hanging in the bance.

  The remaining trio of horseback assaints circled, their intent menacingly clear. Mustapha's breaths came ragged, but his focus remained unshaken. It's been a long time since he had ever found himself in a desperate position as this. His body moved with a primal grace as the remaining horsemen closed in, their bdes glinting in the dappled light. With a swift sidestep, he evaded a charging horse and simultaneously swung his bde in a deadly arc. The edge found its mark, severing the throat of one assaint and sshing across another's torso.

  Crimson sprayed the air as the fallen mercenaries met the ground with thuds, final gasps drowned by the st horseman spurring forward.

  Mustapha was quicker. He darted aside, his bde a silver blur meeting the mercenary with a quick death that cut his cry abruptly short.

  Blood dripped from his bde. His chest heaved. Pain cwed at his ribs, his vision flickering at the edges. He could barely stay upright.

  And then he heard it.

  Above the sound of the heavy battle, the distinct sound of rapidly galloping hooves pierced through the chaos. It was a relentless crescendo, an unstoppable force that seemed to echo from the very direction of the Demon Forest. The approaching horses, numbering seemingly in the thousands, carried an unmistakable urgency in their thunderous rhythm.

  Must be the soldiers the king had posted there, Ulric thought. How did they know?!

  He looked about the battlefield. No one was letting the approaching army distract them but everybody was visibly tired, and his mana was almost completely exhausted. There's no way they can take on a fresh reinforcement.

  "Retreat!"

  Swift as a shadow, Ulric wheeled his horse around, the beast's powerful muscles propelling them forward with a burst of speed. Without a backward gnce, he galloped away, the thundering hoofbeats of his mount echoing his urgency. The fate of his mercenaries was a fleeting concern, his focus singur: escape. This was a failure. Not only did they fail to kill the king but he had to turn his back to people like them and run. His hands were trembling in shame. He will have to find them when all this is over.

  ┌─────── ??? ───────┐

  When I sent the beacon spell for Mustapha to find me I should have expected for enemies to do so as well.

  Just about an hour or so after the spell, I heard heavy steppings of hurried horses and with it the sound of loud fighting. The sves darted for cover with nimble urgency, seeking refuge among the natural contours of the terrain. I couldn't do the same, not just because I was king but because I found myself itching for a fight. I was desperate to check out my new ability in actual combat.

  When they were very near, just out of sight behind the bushes and trees, I casted the invisible forcefield spell. My focus shifted abruptly as I was preparing an offensive spell— a violent gust of wind, an invisible juggernaut, barreled into me with unrestrained force. It carried me helplessly through the air, against trees and thorns for several feet before dropping me with a jarring thud upon the ground, my back taking the brunt of the impact.

  As the powerful force carried me through the air, attacks rained down upon the spot I had just occupied. Magic-infused projectiles and thrown axes propelled by arcane energy sliced through the air where I should have been moments earlier. There was no way I would have survived that.

  The moment I hit the ground, eight horses burst into view, their riders cloaked in secrecy. Amidst them, I discerned the unmistakable person of Helene, the witch. Her outstretched hands were aimed squarely at me, and a surge of energy propelled me backward, scrapping through the ground, putting even more distance between us.

  I fell out of view of what was happening but I could hear the distant sound of battle. I was having a hard time trying to understand her actions. No doubt she's part of the old mage's faction, yet she saved me? Why? What is it that she wants that she deemed so important to make her change her mind to support a far weaker faction?

  I couldn't think of anything.

  I strode back toward where the battle was been fought. Been tossed around had left me with ripped clothes and too many scratches on my body but they didn't hurt enough to keep me away from saving face.

  As I drew closer, the pressure from the battle was heavy and there was a distinct smell apparent in the air. It smelt like what you would expect an expired gunpowder to smell like but kind of different and impossibly well refined. The cshes became even louder, steel against contained energy and my heart was pounding heavily despite myself. Then the fight scene came to view. Just like the time with the knights, it was too fast for my eyes to follow. Supernatural level fast and all I could see was blurs of the color of their cloths. 5 against 2 and it was intense. Unlike what I thought, I am nowhere near ready. Helene's shield seems stronger and her spells faster.

  From the corner of my eye, a swift blur materialized on my right, hurtling towards me with a speed that defied my ability to conjure even the simplest shield spell in response. Time seemed to stretch as the blur moved both incredibly fast and agonizingly slow, suffocating me in a moment of impending doom. As panic surged, the glint of silver within the blur seemed to take aim directly at me. But in a breathtaking twist, just as it felt like my life was about to be extinguished, a sudden "voom!" shattered the tension.

  With a tremendous surge of power, the forceful impact sent the blur hurtling through the air, its collision with a tree reverberating in a resounding crash. My attention snapped toward it, Vojnka's imposing axe connected with the chest of a masked warrior, the impact pinning him mercilessly against the sturdy trunk. My gaze returned to the battle scene just in time to see an attacker sshed Vojnka's back strongly but only a grunt escaped her lips. Her powerful hand, maybe by reflex, swung and hit the attacker solidly. The impact catapulted the assaint through the air, his body skewered by the unforgiving branches of the trees. The one in front stabbed her through the abdomen and she drove into the bde and cpped the head of her attacker with both hands. The resounding impact echoed like a reverberating crack, and the attacker crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

  As agony etched deep lines across her face, Vojnka's formidable figure crumbled to her knees, a trembling hand pressing against her searing abdomen in a desperate bid to staunch the blood flow. Her fierce gaze lifted, heavy with discomfort to find Helene persisting in her fierce struggle against the remaining three. Determination burned in Vojnka's eyes as she willed herself to move, her battered body defying its own limitations. With sheer willpower, Vojnka's left hand groped for the fallen foe's bde, fingers wrapping around the hilt as she gritted her teeth against the pain. Her right hand, still clutched protectively at her grievous wound, trembled with the effort as she summoned every ounce of strength within her. Slowly, boriously, she pushed herself upward, every movement underscored by the intense ache that radiated from her injured abdomen. The grimace on her face was a tell to the relentless determination that propelled her forward, even as her body rebelled against the strain. She began towards them as steady as her condition would allow her, and her coming distracted the attackers for a split second but a split second too many for Helene. The vines of the trees came alive once again but this time it was too fast for them to react. One of the assaints, sensing the threat, reacted swiftly, sshing at an approaching vine with his free hand. But their reflexes were no match for the overwhelming assault. Another vine, propelled by an unseen force, swooped down with uncanny precision. It struck with a decisive blow, knocking the bde from the attacker's grasp before entwining around his arm, puncturing the flesh and eliciting spurts of crimson. In an instant, the vines tightened their grip, coiling and winding around the attackers with unyielding determination. The pressure intensified as the vines encircled their limbs, their sinuous forms stretching with a vice-like grip. The scene was one of entwining chaos and inescapable confinement, as the vines enveloped them, tearing at their garments and holding them captive in a web of natural restraints. They began squirming desperately to get out but couldn't even bulge for the reinforced vines held them so tight that it tore their clothes.

  I heard Helene muttering a spell and before her, three ephemeral clouds of purple smoke materialized, hovering with an otherworldly presence. These amorphous masses began to twist and twirl, gradually coalescing into spinning circle bde with jagged-edges and then all of a sudden with a speed I couldn't see it went by them, one for each.

  At first I thought nothing happened but then their heads fell with a thud to the ground and their necks spurted blood, like a bursted pipe.

  Vojnka fell face ft to the ground, and I watched Helen walk to her and knelt beside her as a vine was turning her over, and another pulled the bde deeply imbeddd in her stomach.

  I approached them as Helene brought out a small bde and was cutting the bloody part of the cloth to reveal the nasty wound.

  "She's quite the find" Helene said without looking up when I arrived and stood by her, looking at what she was doing."How were you able to get her?"

  I ignored her and watched as she brought out a small bottle, opened it and poured a good amount of it on the wound. Vojnka though unconscious, gave an involuntary jerk. The wound began to slowly close, and then the vines lifted her up and slowly turned her, her back to the sky revealing a very deep long ssh.

  Helene tore the barbarian's cloth with her knife, exposing the entire back filled with dozens of healed scars. She poured the entire content from one end to the other, the body writhing through out as they slowly began to heal.

  "She will be fine in a couple of hours" Helene said, standing up, the vines still holding Vojnka midair.

  "What changed your mind?" I asked, trying to sound as unconcerned as I could.

  She stared into my eyes for a moment, searching for what I know not.

  "I'm with child" she finally said.

  It was my turn to stare back as I looked from her eyes to her long cascading hair with more strands of grey than bck, held at the top back of the head with a barrette while the rest flow down the back to her waist.

  "...what?"

  "I'm with your child, Your Majesty."

  "It's barely two weeks"

  "It's different for my kind to know" she said. "My mana has been weaker-"

  Rustling within the bushes interrupted and I felt her conjure a spell.

  "Rex" I told her, as the half-humans began to quickly come out from hiding.

  "You know them?"

  "Yes" I said as the group gathered. "They are my sves"

  "I'm afraid we will have to come back for them ter" she said, after staring at them for a moment. "They will slow us down."

  "Slow us down?"

  "We will need to hurry back to the capital for your protection" she said. "It's only a matter of time before Ulric's army of mercenaries finish off your companions and come looking for you."

  "Mustapha won't fall that easily"

  "Not when he is up against Ulric, and outnumbered"

  If Mustapha falls, then it's over for me because who will defend the castle against the old mage? And running now also means probably losing Vojnka and the new sves. I can't afford that. Then it came to me.

  "How will Mustapha fare if I increase his force by another 10,000?"