The forest, once peaceful under the veil of late afternoon light, now felt like the mouth of a trap. The air crackled with tension as Leon gripped the edge of his seat, eyes fixed on the cloaked figures in the road. Atlas's movements were swift; he threw open the carriage door and stepped out, dagger glinting in his hand.
Edwin was already engaged in a tense standoff, his sword drawn and eyes sharp as steel. "Who are you? State your business!" he called out, his voice a blade itself, cutting through the silence.
The figures didn't respond. Instead, they shifted as one, stepping closer with a fluidity that suggested more than just human strength. Leon's breath quickened, and he felt a pang of recognition—these weren't ordinary attackers. They were Espers, and from the way they moved, powerful ones at that.
"Leon, stay here!" Atlas barked, not daring to look back. The raw command in his voice sent a shiver down Leon's spine, but he nodded, knowing there was little he could do without putting everyone at risk.
The first strike came suddenly, a burst of kinetic energy that shattered through the trees, splintering wood and sending shockwaves through the ground. Atlas barely dodged, countering with his own pulse of power, which collided mid-air with the attacker's, creating a bright flash. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the clash a silent promise of more violence to come.
Leon's Guide senses, sharper than ever in moments of stress, pulsed with empathy for the Espers outside. They weren't just filled with aggression; there was desperation woven into their energy. He gritted his teeth, torn between the urge to help and the fear of revealing too much.
"Edwin!" Atlas shouted as another wave of attackers surged forward. Edwin met them with practiced grace, blade dancing as he kept them at bay. The glint of sweat on his brow and the fierce set of his jaw made him look more warrior than brother in that moment.
Leon reached out through the connection that only a Guide could form, hoping to understand what these attackers wanted. The sudden influx of raw emotion hit him like a physical blow—fear, urgency, and something more elusive... a command. Someone was controlling them, and that someone had powerful motives.
Atlas's eyes met Leon's for a fraction of a second, catching the dawning realization on Leon's face. "There's a handler," Leon whispered, voice strained. "They're being controlled."
Atlas's expression hardened, a spark of anger flaring in his eyes. With renewed determination, he lunged toward the source of the unseen force, weaving through combatants with deadly precision. Leon clenched his fists as he watched, the helplessness biting into him like cold iron.
"Hold on, Leon," he whispered to himself, willing his heartbeat to steady. This battle was more than just another skirmish—it was a warning of what awaited them at the Emperor's court.