The tension grew as the two factions stared each other down, the 'Watch' holding the clear advantage in both numbers and equipment.
On the elves' side stood five capable warriors—
the rest, three of them, were too injured to fight.
But strangely, from the nine armed men, only the one who seemed to be in charge stepped forward.
They didn't attack on sight?
So the arrow really was just to announce their presence?
"Lyanna! You really didn't run far this time. What happened, did you lose some precious help while running?"
The man said, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice as he brushed his fingers along the wolf fang at his neck.
He wasn't that different in height compared to his men—
the only real difference was his bulkier frame, proudly displaying his bald head.
"You sick bastard..." Lyanna responded, her voice dripping with animosity, her grip tightening around the hilt of her sheathed sword.
Both sides stood ready to explode at the slightest spark.
"You know," the man continued, almost casually,
"normally you'd get a chance to surrender.
But looking at you... no.
I don't think you would accept, would you?"
She's going to attack.
Aiden thought from the corner, his hands still bound by the rope, nothing more than a spectator in the brewing storm.
In the background, the only detail that stood out was Selina—
no weapon in her hands, only her arms stretched wide open.
A spellcaster?
But Aiden's gaze snapped back to Lyanna just in time—
as she took a single step forward—
As if the wind itself had launched her,
she shot forward with explosive speed, faster than anything Aiden had ever seen.
In an instant, her frame blurred and appeared behind the bald man.
Her sword sliced down, aiming straight for his head—
only for his shield to slam up at the last possible moment, the impact jarring the air.
He matched her speed.
That speed... it's beyond human.
Then, as if that moment had been a signal, chaos erupted.
Both sides charged into each other, the clearing exploding into a brutal melee.
From Selina's hands, small bolts of light shot toward the enemy —
fast, relentless, but almost harmless, barely leaving scorch marks on their armor.
The old man gripped his spear and charged, but whatever drink he had earlier still dulled his movements.
He was quickly injured, a deep cut blooming across his arm.
The woman who had guarded Aiden — the one who had stayed silent — joined the fight as well.
Her movements were sharper, more focused, and in a sudden flurry she critically wounded one of the attackers, dropping him to the ground with a sharp cry.
The archer — the same one who had first shot at Aiden — kept her distance, loosing arrow after arrow into the fray.
Her aim was deadly, saving the old man from a killing blow and even dropping another enemy where he stood.
But not every shot found its mark. One arrow deflected mid-flight, spinning wildly—and embedded itself into the smoldering campfire.
For a second, nothing happened.
Then—the fire exploded outward, unnaturally fast, like dry oil catching a spark. Flames burst up immediately, hungrily devouring the dry bedding and leaves, racing across the ground with unnatural speed. It wasn't just a normal fire—something about it moved too quickly, too viciously.
The blaze forced the archer to retreat, her bow now useless—one of their most valuable fighters taken out of the battle.
In the confusion, the old man wasn't as lucky.
A sword flashed through the smoke and chaos, slicing across his throat.
He dropped without a sound.
But even as the fire spread, the strongest among them — Lyanna and the bald man — seemed to ignore it completely, locked in a brutal one-on-one fight.
They moved with almost inhuman speed, their weapons blurring through the air.
And to Aiden's growing surprise, small bursts of controlled wind spun around Lyanna.
Not random gusts — but sharp, focused blasts.
Each one striking at the edge of the growing flames, keeping the fire from fully trapping them in.
She can use magic too?!
But Aiden's thought was interrupted by a sharper realization:
the fire.
The rope binding his wrists was dangerously close to the edge of the flames now — the heat already making it smoke.
Without hesitation, he shifted, dragging his tied hands closer, ignoring the sting against his skin.
C'mon... just a little more!
The rope strained, smoked — and finally snapped under the heat.
Aiden ripped his arms free, the sudden relief almost making him stumble.
Now he was loose — and faced with a choice.
He could probably run, slip away into the forest while everyone was too busy killing each other...
But this whole situation was also an opportunity.
He needed Coins.
Coins meant Souls.
And from what little he understood, Souls could be taken — through killing.
And the 'Watch' didn't exactly seem like a group of friendly villagers.
But deeper down, there was something else stirring in him.
A sharper, colder curiosity he didn't want to name just yet.
He shoved the feeling aside.
His eyes scanned the battlefield.
It wasn't looking good.
The archer — one of their best fighters — was being pushed back by two enemies closing in fast.
Selina stood not far, clearly exhausted, her spells flickering weakly in the smoky air.
Only two still looked battle-ready:
Lyanna, locked in deadly combat with the bald man —
and the unnamed woman who had once guarded Aiden, her blade flashing as she parried and struck with sharp, practiced movements.
On the enemy side, at least seven warriors remained, including the bald brute.
Aiden stepped to the side, where one of the enemy corpses lay — an arrow jutting from his skull.
But what caught his attention wasn't the body — it was the sword still clutched in the man's lifeless hand.
Aiden reached for it without hesitation.
It was short — barely longer than a long dagger — but enough.
Better than nothing.
Still...
It wasn't like the weapon he had used back against the damn golem.
That soul-forged blade had felt alive — heavy, powerful, connected to him.
This was just steel.
Cold.
Lifeless.
But right now, he had one clear advantage.
In the chaos of battle — the smoke, the fire, the clashing bodies —
no one had spotted him yet.
Not even the Watch's soldiers.
Steel gripped tight in his right hand, Aiden moved — fast and low — circling wide toward the archer.
She was barely holding her ground, parrying frantic blows from two enemies, her footing slipping.
Aiden closed the distance in a blink.
The first man never even saw him coming.
The blade punched clean through his neck — a wet, ugly sound — and Aiden yanked it free without slowing.
The second enemy turned, eyes wide—
but Aiden was already on him, crashing a shoulder into his chest, knocking him off balance.
Before the man could even shout, Aiden drove the sword deep into his chest, twisting hard.
The body spasmed once, then sagged.
Two down.
Aiden's gaze snapped toward the archer —
she was down, clutching at her side, a deep gash running from neck to hip.
Life drained from her eyes even as a faint, bitter smirk twisted her lips, her dying gaze falling on the bodies Aiden took down.
I was too slow.
Selina's next.
Aiden turned—
Selina was dragging one of the wounded away from the growing fire, her back exposed, vulnerable.
Two enemies were closing in fast, swords raised, ready to strike.
No time to think.
Aiden ripped the sword from his last kill's hand and threw it—
the blade spinning once, twice—
before slicing clean across one attacker's throat, a spray of blood flashing in the firelight.
Without slowing, Aiden lunged forward, fist-first, slamming into the second man—
catching him completely off guard.
He pinned the man down, driving the sword deep into his gut.
But to Aiden's shock, a blade punched through his own chest—
the enemy's dying strike finding its mark even as he collapsed lifelessly beneath him.
You damn bastard...
Pain seared through Aiden's body, but he forced himself upright.
He killed the ones who threatened Selina—
but the battlefield was far from quiet.
His eyes darted around:
The unnamed woman had taken down one opponent, but she struggled against another, blood running from a fresh cut.
Selina was still dragging the wounded out of the spreading fire, her arms trembling with effort as flames devoured the ground behind her.
One of the wounded was already heavily burnt.
And Lyanna—
Lyanna was locked in her brutal duel.
Both she and the bald leader showed signs of injury, blood matting their clothes.
But then—
to Aiden's horror, the bald man's speed suddenly exploded, a burst of violent movement faster than before.
Lyanna barely raised her blade in time—
but not fast enough.
The bald man's sword slashed deep across her left arm, drawing a savage wound that made her stumble.
Both sides of the battle were crumbling.
Lyanna, still in the center, was fending off the bald leader.
The unnamed woman struggled farther away, barely holding her ground.
Think...
Aiden's mind sharpened.
The world seemed to slow around him.
If I pick the fight with the bald one, it'll drag out—
even two against one, the other could die before we win.
Lyanna's clearly stronger than me.
If she dies... I can't beat him alone.
A path burned itself into his mind—
risky, fast, barely possible.
Screw it...
He sprinted straight toward the center.
The sword still buried in his chest burned with every step, but he didn't slow.
Lyanna and the bald man both turned, startled—
as Aiden threw himself between them.
"Open!" he barked.
The blue window flashed into existence right in the path of the bald man's strike—
the blow crashing harmlessly into the glowing screen.
Aiden wasted no time.
He grabbed the hilt of the sword sticking from his ribs—
felt it scrape against bone—
and ripped it free with a grunt, ignoring the scream of torn flesh.
In the same motion, he turned and hurled it—
a single, vicious throw across the clearing.
The sword sliced through the air like a missile, striking the man harassing the unnamed woman.
It cut a brutal gash across his chest, sending him staggering—
easy prey now.
One problem solved.
Now the bigger one.
"Lya! Attack the blue!" Aiden roared.
Lyanna hesitated a split second—then trusted him.
She lunged, sword flashing toward the blue window—
and at the last possible second, Aiden shouted:
"Close!"
The window vanished instantly.
Lyanna's blade passed clean through the space where it had been—
slamming straight into the bald man's chest, carving a deep slash across his torso.
Not a killing blow.
Before the bald man could recover, Aiden surged forward.
He dropped low, dodging a sluggish swipe—
then slammed his shoulder into the man's chest, forcing him back a step.
Without hesitation, Aiden grabbed his throat with both hands—
his fingers digging deep into sweaty, blood-slick skin—
he felt the vertebrae shift horribly under his grip—
and twisted hard.
A sickening crack echoed through the clearing.
The bald man's body spasmed—then crumpled lifelessly to the ground.
Aiden fell to his knees, breathless, the last of his strength slipping away.
I did it...
Beside him, Lyanna moved without a word—
her hands pressing together, focus tightening in her eyes.
A faint wind stirred the ruined clearing, barely more than a breeze at first—
then it grew, swelling into a strong, controlled gust.
The air swept across the camp, and one by one, the fires died out, snuffed under her magic.
The clearing dimmed, left only with the smell of burnt earth and smoke.
That's... a really good ability she has.
Aiden's gaze darted around through the haze, trying to take stock.
The camp was almost unrecognizable—
the grass scorched into ash, the crude bedding reduced to blackened clumps.
Everything smelled like burnt wood and blood.
At least I'm still breathing.
Aiden shifted slightly, wincing as pain lanced through his ribs, and glanced over at Lyanna.
"You... always clean up like that after a fight?" he rasped out, half-joking.
Lyanna shot him a dry, almost amused look.
"Only when the camp decides to burn itself."
Aiden let out a hoarse laugh and flopped back onto the ashen ground, staring up at the green-tinged sky peeking through the lingering smoke.
At least this time, he didn't pass out.