Leon stepped into the circle, raising his hands as he began to trace a final seal in the air, the lines glowing faintly under his fingertips. He whispered a command, summoning Miss Lola's presence to guide the ritual.
The air shimmered as the magic took hold. Unlike the complex and dangerous spell they had attempted last time, this ritual was simpler—'a current of magic mimicking the earth's spirit energy, weaving through the forest like a song.'
Glowing tendrils of light pulsed outward from the circle, rippling through the trees. Leon could feel the energy shifting; gentle but insistent, like a breeze carrying whispers from the other side.
"Here we go," Leon muttered under his breath.
The magic flowed effortlessly, easier this time without the interference of a demon. No blood, no chants, no dangerous summons; just the quiet hum of the spirit lamp waiting to capture its prey.
Corvis watched in silence as Leon worked, the strange glow reflecting off his tired face. Despite the danger that still loomed over them, there was a strange sense of calm in the air.
For now, at least, things were going smoothly.
But both boys knew 'in a place like this, peace never lasted long.'
The white light of the ritual magic flowed smoothly along the grooves etched into the earth, spreading across the intricate circle. It glowed for a moment, then dimmed, leaving only faint, pulsing runes beneath the soil.
Leon gripped the hilt of his sword, muscles tensing as he waited. 'Any moment now.'
This time, there were no demon-possessed allies to save, no desperate battles against towering undead with otherworldly strength. It was simpler: draw the undead into the circle, let Miss Lola extract the soul, and seal it in the spirit lamp. 'No need for heroics. Just precision.'
Still, Leon kept his sword at the ready. 'Better safe than sorry.' Not every undead would be cooperative. And the cursed forest was known to spawn more than just zombies; it harbored beasts twisted by death's magic, creatures whose souls were too wild and fragmented to be of any use. 'You can't guide your way out with the soul of a wolf.'
The first hint of movement came with the soft crunch of leaves in the distance. Leon's sharp eyes scanned the shadows, and both he and Corvis turned toward the noise.
A rustling in the undergrowth. Then a figure stumbled into view: a deer with patches of peeling skin, its eyes burning bright red, and its body shriveled to the bone.
Leon sighed. "Another beast."
Before Corvis could offer assistance, Leon shifted his stance, sword raised. The zombified stag charged, its antlers aimed at him like spears. With a swift, practiced motion, Leon stepped aside and brought his sword down in a clean arc.
'CRUNCH.'
The blade cleaved through flesh and bone, severing the deer's head in a single strike. The decapitated body skidded across the ground, limbs jerking in spasms as the head rolled to the side.
Leon wiped his blade clean on the deer's hide, his expression calm but tinged with boredom. 'This was going to be a long night.'
More creatures followed. 'A pack of gray wolves, a ragged fox, even a monkey whose skeletal fingers clawed at the dirt as it lunged toward the circle.' Leon cut each of them down methodically, his sword flashing in the pale light of the ritual. Meanwhile, Corvis took down the occasional undead bird; falcons and crows swooping toward them, by pelting them out of the air with stones, his aim as sharp as ever.
Despite their success, frustration gnawed at Leon. 'None of these creatures were useful.'
"There aren't many humans who'd stumble into this cursed land," Leon muttered under his breath, slashing through another wolf. "Just our luck."
The earth's spiritual energy; the bait they were using, was subtle, far less potent than the soul simulation spell they'd used last time. It attracted animals more readily than humans, and while the steady trickle of undead beasts kept Leon's sword arm busy, 'they weren't what he needed.'
At least, he thought grimly, 'the slower pace meant they weren't swarmed all at once.'
But just as he began to grow restless, something changed.
A new sound emerged from the forest; 'heavy footsteps.'
Leon's breath hitched, his pulse quickening. 'This was no animal.'
Metal clinked softly in the darkness, a rhythmic, deliberate sound 'armor shifting with every step.' Leon straightened, gripping his sword tighter, exchanging a glance with Corvis. 'Finally.'
Both of them stood motionless, listening as the footsteps drew closer. The figure moved through the woods with purpose, but not the frenzied aggression of a mindless zombie. 'This was different.'
A shape emerged from the shadows, a tall figure draped in silver armor trimmed with gold. A tattered red robe hung from its shoulders, swaying with each step. In its hand, the figure held a gleaming halberd, the wicked blade catching the faint light of the ritual.
Leon's eyes widened, both in awe and suspicion. 'The armor was unlike anything he had seen before; ornate, regal, and far too well-preserved for an ordinary undead soldier.'
As the figure stepped fully into view, Leon felt a flicker of unease. Something about the way it carried itself was unsettling. 'This wasn't just another wandering spirit.'
He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, preparing for an attack, but it never came.
The armored warrior approached the edge of the magic circle... and stopped.
It stood just outside the glowing barrier, still and silent, as if observing the ritual with cold intelligence. 'Unlike the mindless undead they had fought earlier, this one didn't charge blindly.' It didn't even raise its weapon. Instead, it remained perfectly still, like a statue waiting for a command.
Leon narrowed his eyes, studying the warrior carefully. 'What is this thing?' The ostrich-feather plume on the warrior's helmet swayed gently in the breeze, its face hidden behind a smooth metal visor. 'There was no way to tell if it was truly undead or something else entirely.'
Unlike the wild Ghoul Knight they had fought before, this one 'hadn't charged.' It stood there, watching them. Waiting.
Leon felt a knot tighten in his stomach. 'This was no ordinary undead.'
Corvis, standing beside him, shifted uneasily. "Is it a ghost?" he whispered. "Or a living person who just wandered in?"
"I don't know," Leon murmured, his eyes never leaving the warrior. 'And that was the truth.' He couldn't tell what they were dealing with. 'Was this a restless soul bound by ancient duty, or something else entirely?'
The warrior remained silent, the glowing lines of the ritual flickering between them. It made no move to attack, but it also showed no intention of leaving.
Leon took a slow step forward, careful not to cross the boundary of the magic circle. His heart pounded in his chest, every instinct screaming that something was off.
And then, for the first time, the warrior shifte; just slightly, but enough to make it clear. 'It wasn't here by accident.'
Leon's grip on his sword tightened. 'Whatever this thing was, it had a purpose. And it wasn't going to leave without fulfilling it.'
Before Leon could voice his suspicion, 'Lola's voice echoed in his mind, her normally calm tone sharpened with surprise.'
"Guardian Knight."
Leon froze. 'Guardian Knight?' The name sent a ripple of confusion through him, though he could feel the weight in Lola's words, as if the term carried deep significance.
"What?" Leon muttered under his breath. "What do you mean, Guardian Knight?"
Lola's voice didn't answer immediately, as if even she was processing what she had just witnessed.
But Leon didn't have time to ask further. His eyes remained locked on the warrior standing at the edge of the circle. What unnerved him most was not just the warrior's regal armor or the halberd, it was the warrior's complete stillness.