Chapter 4: The Ambush
The road connecting Petita to Saikono Village was eerily silent. The world itself seemed to hold its breath under the oppressive midday sun. The fields on either side were a wild, untamed sea of green, untouched by plow or fence. Nature reigned here. The heat shimmering off the dirt path was palpable, and the air, thick and still, felt more like the height of summer than a day in April.
The only sounds were the distant, mournful calls of birds and the rhythmic crunch of two pairs of footsteps on the dusty track. Fulan and Fayrouz walked side by side, beads of sweat forming on their brows.
"Despite all the negatives," Fayrouz said, breaking the silence, "this road is perfectly suited for an ambush."
Fulan glanced at her, a hint of amusement twitching his lips despite his thirst. "Wait, isn't an ambush also a negative?"
Fayrouz tilted her head slightly, her blindfolded gaze fixed on the horizon. "What are you talking about? This was a planned encounter. We walked into this knowing they would be here."
"Perhaps you're right, but there's no need to phrase it like that... Anyway, are there really bandits here? I don't see anyone."
Fayrouz fell silent. The silence stretched for a full thirteen minutes, long enough for the tension to become a physical weight. Then, without warning, she stopped. Her expression grew serious as she murmured, "They're here..."
Fulan frowned, his eyes scanning the empty fields. He saw nothing—no movement, no shadows, nothing but shimmering heat and swaying grass. The stillness was absolute. "What do you mean? I don't see anyone."
Before Fayrouz could respond, the air around them seemed to ripple and distort. Nine figures shimmered into existence as if woven from the heat haze itself, surrounding them in a tight circle. They wore dark, hooded cloaks that obscured their faces, their statures varying from tall and burly to short and wiry. The air grew thick and suffocating with their sudden presence.
The first to speak was Fulan, his voice steady but laced with disbelief. "They appeared out of nowhere? How is that possible?"
The bandits remained silent, their movements deliberate and unnervingly coordinated. Fayrouz, however, was unfazed. "Saying they appeared from nowhere is incorrect," she said calmly. "They have been around us this entire time. I could sense their Menma."
Fulan turned to her, his brow furrowed. "You mean they were invisible? Is that even a thing?"
A faint smile touched Fayrouz's lips. "Perhaps you are the one who knows little of this world. The ability to hide one's presence is a dull power, and its users are cowards 99.8% of the time."
The leader of the bandits, a tall man with a medium build, chuckled, the sound muffled by his hood. "That's harsh, but you seem well-informed. Still, this is how we survive. The nobles and the gifted will never understand the struggles of people like us."
Fulan remained silent, his eyes darting between the figures, assessing the threat. Fayrouz, however, wasn't done. "People like you?" she said, her tone cutting. "It is impossible for a group of unrelated individuals to share the exact same ability. Nine people using the same power? That is beyond belief."
The leader listened quietly, but one of the bandits—a slender figure with a youthful voice—spoke up. "Big brother, this girl is sharp. She can track and sense Menma. Maybe we should try to recruit her instead of... you know."
The leader nodded thoughtfully. "You're right," he said, turning back to Fayrouz. "You have a sharp mind, and you sensed us despite that blindfold. Are you blind, or is it a fashion statement? Either way, my little brother sees potential in you. How about this? Join us as our tenth member, and we will let your friend here walk safely to Saikono Village. Not a bad deal, is it?"
The silence that followed was heavy with anticipation. But before Fayrouz could utter a word—
Whoosh!
Fulan moved. In the instant before he lunged, he took one deep, silent breath, holding it fast. His body erupted in a brilliant white aura, his very skin glowing as if lit from within. He crossed the distance to the leader in a blinding flash. The bandits barely had time to register his movement before his fist connected with the leader's face, the crack of breaking bone sharp in the sudden quiet. The man crumpled to the ground.
The attack took less than two seconds, but it sent a shockwave of chaos through the group. Three other bandits fell to Fulan's impossibly fast kicks before they could even think to react, his movements precise and fueled by the incandescent white energy coursing through him.
But the assault was over as quickly as it began. The five remaining bandits recovered, activating their cloaking ability and vanishing from sight. Fulan's advantage was gone, and the battlefield became a deadly game of cat and mouse.
Fayrouz's eyes were wide behind her blindfold as she processed what she had just seen. What is this? His Menma particles… they turned pure white. How is that possible? Even with a hidden ability like this, he can't win alone. I have to move!
Fulan stood in the center of the now-empty circle, his chest still, his breath held. Five of them left. Four seconds. That's all the time one breath gives me. I can't dodge attacks I can't see. I have two options: rely on Fayrouz to track them, or start swinging blindly. Either way, I can't afford to lose here. I haven't even taken my first step toward Ragandarok.
The real fight had just begun.