Each of them was isolated, battling not just their opponents but the terrain and their exhaustion. The jinns had forced them into separate fights, exploiting their division, and the struggle was growing fiercer with every second. Each strike felt heavier, each parry slower, as the jinns kept them on the defensive, their smoke and shadows slipping between the trees like predators playing with their prey.
Yacha gritted his teeth, eyes scanning for his comrades, but all he could see were flickering shadows and flashes of magic through the trees.
"Stay together!" he shouted.
But his voice was swallowed by the chaos of battle. The jinns had the upper hand now, and it felt like they were being worn down, piece by piece, in this deadly game.
The tide of the battle began to shift. Through the chaos of the jinns' relentless attacks, the four soldiers slowly found their rhythm again. Each movement became deliberate, each spell more precise as they fought their way back to one another.
Yacha was the first to break through the swarm of shadows, his spear cutting through the mist of the jinn wolves as they snapped at his heels. His fiery strikes became more focused, and controlled. Thunder rumbled through the clearing as he blasted one of the wolves back, sending it crashing into a tree.
Speira, her wind magic swirling around her like a storm, took advantage of the distraction. She leaped from branch to branch, her short swords gleaming as she danced between the attacks of the faceless warrior. With a sudden gust, she threw herself backward, flipping through the air and landing beside Yacha.
"Together," she said, panting, her eyes flashing with determination.
Eline followed, her water magic forming a protective shield around her as she dodged the panther's lunges. She cut it off with a sudden torrent of water, slamming the creature against the forest floor. The panther hissed and dissolved into smoke, but Eline was already moving, regrouping with Yacha and Speira.
"We can outthink them," she muttered, her grip tightening on her sword.
Ursang's battle was the most brutal. The smoke-serpent jinn taunted him, slipping between his strikes, but with every failed swing, Ursang's eyes burned with more resolve. His earth magic cracked the ground under his feet, shifting the terrain. He stomped hard, sending shockwaves through the earth, forcing the jinn to stay above ground.
And then, in a sudden, decisive move, he threw his heavy sword into the air, drawing two sleek, enchanted blades from the bracelet on his wrist. He spun them in his hands, their edges gleaming in the dim light.
Yacha's eyes flicked to Ursang's transformation.
"About time you brought those out," he called out, and then, to everyone's surprise, Yacha let his spear drop to the ground. From the sheath at his back, he drew a sword, its blade shimmering with fiery runes. The air around him hummed with a mixture of heat and crackling electricity as he readied himself.
The four stood back-to-back now, weapons drawn, and a silent understanding passed between them. They had fought too long, too hard, to be separated again. This time, they would fight together.
Speira moved first, her body a blur as she slashed through the shadows, her wind magic enhancing her speed. Every time a jinn lunged, she was already gone, her blades leaving trails of wind in their wake. She weaved between the attacks, striking hard and fast, forcing the jinns to fall back.
Yacha followed, his fiery sword glowing brighter with every swing. He combined his fire and thunder magic, sending arcs of flame and lightning crackling through the air. With each strike, the jinns recoiled, their smoky forms sizzling as his blade cut through them. His movements were sharp, decisive, and no longer wild like before.
Eline, her water magic swirling protectively around her, engaged the panther jinn again. This time, she was ready. Every step was measured, and every sword strike was perfectly timed. She used her water magic to trap the jinn in place, freezing it for a split second before her sword sliced through its form. Her attacks were fluid, and relentless, pushing the jinn back into the shadows.
Ursang was a force of nature. With two swords in hand, he moved like a storm, his earth magic causing the ground to tremble with each step. He swung both blades with precision, cutting through the smoke-serpent jinn before it could retreat. His strikes were heavy but calculated, every blow driving the jinns back.
The four of them fought like a single, unstoppable force, their attacks coordinated, their movements fluid. Every swing of Yacha's sword was met by a gust of wind from Speira, every burst of Eline's water magic was reinforced by Ursang's earth-shaking strikes. The jinns, once so confident in their ambush, now found themselves overwhelmed, unable to keep up with the soldiers' relentless onslaught.
With one final, coordinated strike, the soldiers attacked as one. Yacha's sword blazed with fire and lightning as he slashed through the last of the jinn wolves, while Speira's wind-enhanced blades cut through the faceless warrior. Ursang, his twin swords gleaming, drove his blades into the heart of the smoke-serpent, pinning it to the earth. Eline's water magic surged, drenching the panther in a wave of force that shattered its form.
The jinns dissipated into the air, their forms vanishing like mist in the wind, leaving the forest silent once more.
Speira swiftly unleashed a gleaming chain from her bracelet, the links spiraling through the air like a coiled serpent before ensnaring the jinn who was slower than the others due to his injuries, binding its form tightly as it thrashed in vain against the unyielding grip.
The captured jinn writhed beneath the weight of Yacha's spear, its smoky form struggling to reform around the blade lodged deep into its shoulder. Ursang's sword pinned its leg to the ground, making any attempt to escape futile. The creature's glowing, shifting eyes darted between its captors, flickering with malice and pain.
Yacha knelt beside the jinn, his spear twisting just slightly, drawing a hiss of agony from the creature.
"How did you know we were coming to Hallerbos?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. Sparks of fire danced along the edges of his blade, a subtle threat.
The jinn's form trembled, the dark mist of its body flickering like a dying flame.
"You are all fools," it rasped, its voice like a breath of wind through dead leaves.
"Your arrogance blinds you to what surrounds you."
Ursang leaned in closer, his grip tightening on his sword as it pressed deeper into the jinn's leg. His voice was calm, but there was a cold edge to it.
"Answer the question," he growled.
"Who told you we'd be here?"
The jinn gasped, writhing in pain, its shape shifting uncontrollably.
"We knew because one of your own... told us," it whispered, its tone dripping with venom.
"A spy within your precious Seiken Army."
Yacha's eyes narrowed, his grip on the spear tightening.
"A spy?" he repeated, his voice deadly calm.
"Who?"
The jinn's eyes flickered again, a twisted smile forming on its smoky lips.
"I'll tell you nothing more. But know this—your secrets are not safe. Even now, you are watched."
The words hung in the air, thick with menace. Yacha and Ursang exchanged a brief, tense glance. There was a traitor among them, someone within their own ranks. The jinn, even in its defeat. Had delivered a blow they hadn't anticipated.