While Raikha struck like lightning, Lara moved like wind, silent and accurate. She scanned the forest floor with her keen eyes.
Then she saw it: a slender meadow encircled by a thick, tangled tripwire of vines that was naturally concealed. "Great," she thought. The trick of the Thornstep Clan. There was an old whisper from her grandfather about how to influence the living wild.
A clean cut. A change in weight. Only that would awaken the snare.
Her breath was shallow as she disappeared into the trees. Each step mattered. Raikha's rhythm had to be followed at all times.
Lara arrived at the foot of a tall tree as Raikha spun into his next victim, bloodied saber in hand.
The forest held its breath.
She made a wrist motion. A gleam of steel. One significant vine was severed.
The forest held its breath.
Then—whip—twang—snap.
The vines came alive with a violent tightening. Two Kalderan soldiers on either side of Raikha cried out in agony as green tendrils tore their legs from under them.
Then—
BRUGHHHHH.
The tension in the canopy was suddenly released, and a massive tree fell before the approaching Kalderan line. The enemy force was split in two as the ground slammed across their path, shuddering, branches breaking, and bark splitting.
For a breath, Raikha's head jerked in the direction of the sound. He caught a glimpse of Lara, wounded but with sharp eyes, exposed long enough to trigger her trap.
The remaining Kalderans recoiled. Their formation had been sliced in half—some trapped, others now clustered behind the fallen tree. Confusion bloomed across their line. Their unity had fractured.
One soldier, face pale beneath a dented helm, dropped to one knee behind the trunk. His hands trembled as he loaded a bolt into his crossbow, eyes fixed on the girl by the tree—Lara, wounded, exposed, and the source of the chaos.
"There!" someone barked.
The soldier exhaled, steadied his aim, and pulled the trigger.
Thwip.
"Lara, watch out!" Raikha roared, catching the hiss of the bolt midair.
He twisted without hesitation, deflecting it with the blood-slicked saber—a sharp metallic clang rang out as it veered off course, zipping past his ear and slamming into bark behind her with a deadly thunk.
Another bolt hissed through the air where she had just been, slicing a strand of her hair as it thudded into a moss-covered rock.
Keep moving. Continue.
She reached for her belt, her fingers curling around the hilt of her throwing knife. Abrupt motion—another Kalderan, crossbow pointed at her chest.
Lara's arm jerked up. The knife flew end over end and struck the man just above the collarbone with a wet crunch. He screamed, stumbled back, and dropped his weapon. Not dead, but out of the fight.
More bolts were on the way. She ducked low and ran for cover, swerving between trunks and roots, her eyes keen, her breath ragged.
"Raikha—!" she screamed.
But Raikha no longer shielded her. Through the chaos, two Kalderan soldiers had broken from behind, sabers raised, and were charging directly at him. The second one came from the flank, but Raikha was able to turn in time to parry it with a sharp ring of steel-the saber he had taken from the second soldier he'd killed earlier, still slick with blood and warm in his grip.
He could no longer deflect for Lara.
Now it was blade to blade.
He grabbed the first man by the wrist, then twisted and slammed his elbow into the soldier's face. The bone crunched. But the second soldier's saber sliced low at Raikha's ribs.
Raikha jumped back, barely avoiding the blow, and launched a counterattack, but he was now trapped. Two blades. Only one breath.
Lara was still out in the open, and crossbowmen were aiming at her again.
Lara's breath caught in her throat.
Trees whirled, the sky flickered, the world tilted.
The poison.
It had infiltrated more quickly than she had anticipated. The forest canopy swirled above her like a tornado of leaves and darkness as her back struck the ground with a dull thud.
"Lara!" Like a whipcrack, Raikha's yell ripped through the confusion.
He watched her tumble—watched the crossbowmen lift their arrows once more.
But panicking was not an option. It's time to get moving.
With his saber in hand, he charged forward.
As the two Kalderans tried to intercept, Raikha's body moved low in a blur. His silat instinct kicked in this time, but this time he was armed with steel instead of nothing.
He changed into Tebas Bayangan, the Shadow Slash.
It had nothing to do with strength. It was about silence, speed, and angle.
Before he even realized Raikha had moved, a single diagonal cut ripped open the first soldier's thigh. Blood spurted into the ferns as he screamed and dropped his blade.
Raikha stepped inside his guard and twisted the saber, dragging the edge of the blade along the man's ribs in a sickening, red arc as the second attempted to parry. It was enough to bring him down to the ground, gasping and screaming, but not enough to kill him.
She tried to form words with a faint movement of her lips. She had chilly skin.
Holding her close, Raikha spun and ran, into the deeper shadows of the Halimun, through the brush.
Before him, the forest appeared to split. He disappeared into the trees, bolts hissing futilely through the darkness.
The Kalderans hesitantly followed behind them, but none dared to charge the forest at full speed. Not right now. Not in light of what they had witnessed.
Not after his actions.