"Who are you?" Lysandra demanded, her voice firm and unyielding.
The figure chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Kaito's spine. "A traveler, like your young friend here," the figure said, their voice dripping with sarcasm. "But unlike him, I am not here seeking answers. I am here to take something."
Before anyone could react, the figure lunged forward, drawing a gleaming blade from beneath their cloak. The elves moved to intercept, but the figure was fast—almost impossibly so.
Kaito barely had time to draw his own blade before the figure was upon him, their blade clashing with his in a shower of sparks. The force of the blow sent Kaito staggering back, but he quickly recovered, his training kicking in.
The battle was fierce and fast-paced, the clang of metal ringing through the clearing. Kaito fought with all his might, but the figure was skilled, their movements fluid and precise. It was clear this was no ordinary opponent.
Just as Kaito began to tire, the figure suddenly disengaged, leaping back with a grace that was almost inhuman. "You fight well," the figure said, their voice filled with grudging respect. "But this is not over. We will meet again."
With that, the figure disappeared into the shadows, leaving Kaito and the elves stunned and breathless.
Lysandra approached Kaito, her expression grave. "You have proven your courage, young one. But the dangers you face are greater than you know. Rest now, and we will speak more of the prophecy and your role in it."
As Kaito settled down by the Heart Tree, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and questions. The path ahead was uncertain and dangerous, but he knew he had no choice but to see it through. For the fate of his village—and perhaps the entire world—rested on his shoulders.