"They're here," I murmured, my voice low as my gaze lifted to the canopy of trees. The faint rustle of mana betrayed their movements—subtle, practiced, but not quite silent from my refined senses. I narrowed my eyes, focusing on the shadows that bled into the treetops.
Evelyn, standing just behind me, tensed at my words. "What is it?"
"They're not ordinary bandits," I replied, my tone sharper now, a thread of warning woven through it. My hand tightened around my spear. "They're good—too good."
Raine, who had been leaning casually against the nearest wagon, tilted her head, curiosity flickering in her gaze. "What do you mean, 'good'?"
I didn't look at her. My focus was on the stillness above, on the faint ripples in the mana around us that even Evelyn had missed. "They're hiding, and they're not leaving footprints nor mana traces either. No killing intent either. It's almost like… ghosts."
Raine straightened, her grip finding the hilt of her greatsword. "That's comforting."
"Stay sharp," I muttered, already moving. The air around me thickened as I drew mana from my Indigo core. The flow was familiar, the rhythm steady and sharp as it flooded my veins. I channeled it through my spear, refining it, molding it. My mana didn't just manifest—it resonated, humming in time with my will.
The weapon came alive in my grasp, the steel singing with the force I poured into it. A faint, shimmering aura formed at the tip—almost invisible in the dark, but potent enough to carry devastation with it.
I exhaled slowly, my body falling into the familiar movement.
A single thrust.
Simple in theory. Anything but in execution.
The resonating aura erupted from the tip of my spear, splitting outward like arrows of liquid light. It tore through the heavy canopy with the sound of ripping silk, scattering leaves and bark in its wake.
Then, they were there—no longer shadows but figures, forced into the open.
I smiled faintly, my eyes narrowing further. "Well, there you are."
Their camouflage had been near flawless. No cracks, no killing intent. Even Evelyn, with her Indigo core and Flow-level spellcasting, hadn't been able to sense them lurking so close. That alone spoke volumes.
"They were good," I said softly, "but hiding isn't enough."
Above us, figures began to drop from the trees, landing as silently as snowfall. They were cloaked, their faces masked, their bodies fluid with trained precision. Not bandits. Mercenaries, maybe. Assassins, more likely.
Evelyn shifted beside me, her gaze sharp and calculating as she appraised the newcomers. "They're professionals."
"Clearly," I said, still holding my spear at the ready. The aura around it hadn't dissipated—if anything, it coiled tighter, eager to strike again. My muscles were poised, my senses tuned to the faintest shift in the enemy's formation.
Raine, her greatsword now unsheathed, stepped up beside me with a quiet grunt. "I'll take the left," she said, her voice low. "Don't hog all the fun."
"I make no promises," I replied, lips twitching upward in a half-smile.
From the shadows at the rear, I could see Darrin, ever the rogue, drawing a pair of daggers, his form dissolving into the gloom. Garret had planted himself squarely in front of the wagons, his armor glinting faintly as he prepared to hold the line. Mara had an arrow nocked already, her keen eyes tracking every movement in the treetops.
For a heartbeat, the world stilled, the silence deeper than any I had felt all day.
Then, they attacked.
The assassins moved with synchronized grace, their figures a blur of shadow as they darted toward us. One came at me directly, twin daggers glinting in the dim light. I turned my spear, sweeping it in a wide arc that caught his blades with a clash of steel. The impact sent sparks flying, and his eyes widened behind his mask as the force sent him skidding back.
Another lunged from my blind spot, but I was already moving. My spear shifted, the resonating aura flaring to life as I thrust forward again. This time, it wasn't precision—it was power. The aura surged outward like a coiled wave, slamming into the attacker and hurling him backward into the dirt.
A third tried his luck from above, leaping down with his sword poised to strike. I tilted my head up, calm as the blade descended. In a single, fluid motion, I planted my spear into the ground and swung upward with my free hand. The momentum sent my boot into his stomach, and he crumpled mid-air, collapsing in a heap at my feet.
Three down. More to go.
Evelyn's magic unfurled beside me, an intricate web of mana forming around her fingertips. Strings of shimmering light lashed out, ensnaring an assassin mid-step, his limbs jerking violently as he was dragged to the ground. Her puppet magic—subtle, refined, but devastating.
"Don't lose focus," I called to her, my spear flicking toward another enemy. "They're testing us."
"I know," she shot back, her voice tight with concentration. Her black eyes flashed with mana, the air around her shimmering with her growing power. She was holding her own, but this wasn't her ideal battlefield. Evelyn's magic shone in long games, where her control could stretch over time.
The remaining assassins adjusted quickly, realizing brute force wouldn't work. Their formation tightened, their movements sharper. They were shifting strategies—attacking in pairs, trying to overwhelm me. Clever.
But I had no intention of letting them succeed.
I took a step forward, spear at the ready. This time, my movements slowed. The mana in my core shifted subtly as I began to weave it into a tighter, more refined form. This wasn't a reckless surge of power—it was a pattern, a dance I'd honed through years of experience.
A familiar rhythm coursed through me, my resonating aura stretching beyond the weapon itself. The assassins hesitated, sensing the change. For a single heartbeat, they were wary. That was all I needed.
I lunged, my spear trailing a ripple of light as it struck.
The first assassin's blade shattered under the impact, the force carrying him backward like a leaf in a storm. The second tried to pivot, to avoid the brunt of the attack, but the sweeping arc of my spear caught him too, carving through his guard like it was paper.
They weren't weak. That much was clear. But compared to the monsters I had faced before, they were manageable. I couldn't afford to let them regroup.
Behind me, Raine's greatsword slammed into the earth, carving a crater as she sent two assassins sprawling. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she called, her voice laced with effort.
"Can't say I'm not," I replied, stepping over the unconscious body of an attacker.
When the last assassin fell, the silence returned—not gentle, but heavy and expectant.
I glanced toward Evelyn, who stood at the center of a tangle of shimmering strings, her breathing steady despite the strain. She met my gaze and nodded faintly. "That was more organized than I expected."
"Agreed," I said, scanning the downed enemies. "This wasn't random."
Raine approached, resting her greatsword on one shoulder. "Mercenaries, probably. Question is, who sent them?"
"That's something we'll figure out later," I replied, planting the tip of my spear into the ground. "For now, we should move. They might not be the last."
Darrin appeared from the shadows, wiping a smear of blood from his cheek. "Agreed. And next time, maybe let us know before you light up the whole forest with that fancy spear of yours."
I smiled faintly. "I'll keep that in mind."
Evelyn stepped up beside me, her eyes lingering on the unconscious assassins. "Do you think this has anything to do with Orlan?"
I glanced at the merchant, who was visibly shaken but otherwise unharmed. "Maybe. Or maybe we're just too interesting for our own good."
The road ahead suddenly felt much longer, stretching into the unknown like an unspoken challenge.
And yet, I welcomed it.
Turning my gaze to Evelyn, I watched as she adjusted the fraying edges of her sleeves, her face set in quiet determination. Her dark hair hung in loose waves, the faint glow of mana still shimmering in her eyes—evidence of her earlier effort. For all her grace, Evelyn was still young, raw in her potential. But beneath that unrefined exterior was something extraordinary: monstrous talent that whispered of greatness. The kind of brilliance that would one day cast long shadows over the world.
She had been called the witch who might surpass the legendary Witch of Time herself. The weight of that title would crush most people. Evelyn? She wore it as though it hadn't yet sunk into her bones. But it would, given time.
And time, we had plenty of.
For now, though, there were gaps in her skills—gaps that a younger me, without a past life's worth of experience, would have shared. The assassins we'd just faced were a prime example. Evelyn hadn't sensed them, and that wasn't her fault. Even a seasoned Violet core user might have struggled. Their techniques were impeccable, the kind of precision you only encountered with high-tier mercenary guilds. I had picked them out for one reason only: I'd spent years on Earth hunting far worse things than cloaked men in trees.
It was another reminder of how far ahead I stood, but also how far I still needed to go.
Beside me, Evelyn fell into step with quiet focus, her hand hovering near the hem of her cloak where her mana pulsed faintly. I didn't need to ask to know she was replaying the fight in her mind—analyzing her weaknesses, sharpening her resolve. She was learning. And as much as this mission was for Orlan's gold, it was also for her.
'And for me.'
My hands tightened slightly on my spear as I turned my thoughts inward. This body of mine was far younger than the one I had wielded in my previous life—less refined, less resilient. My mind, however, carried the weight of my prime. I remembered what it was like to cleave the skies with my spear, to challenge foes who could make entire continents tremble. That level of strength—the level I had to reach again—felt impossibly distant.
And yet, I would reach it.