We faced another Feral-ranked beast after about forty minutes of trekking deeper into the forest.
Well that wasn't easy at all.
The creature was larger than the first, with claws that scraped against bark and teeth like jagged rocks.
The beast suddenly jumped out from the bushes and attacked Zevir, our tank, while growling angrily.
Zevir raised his shield just in time, but the beast slammed into him hard enough to knock him back several paces.
Orion and Emberfell cast their magic—sharp wind attacks and bursts of fire—but the beast was very quick, dodging side to side between the trees.
Renhal and Kaelric charged from the sides, swords flashing as they tried to pin it down.
I kept low and waited for the right opening. The beast was quick, unpredictable, and far more vicious than the first one.
The fight dragged on for several minutes, each of us getting bruised or cut in the process.
But finally, a well-timed combo of Emberfell's flame burst and Renhal's spinning slash brought it down.
We parted in silence, circling the beast's unmoving body.
"That… was rough," Zevir muttered.
"Barely got out of that one," Orion added.
I looked at the glowing patch on the beast's head. Still green. Another Feral Rank.
"Ten points in total," I said to myself.
"Still alive too," Kaelric smirked.
"Thanks to Veyla," Renhal said, nodding toward her. "Without her healing, I'd have a hole in my gut right now."
Veyla gave a small smile, "Just doing my part."
We all sat for a few minutes, catching our breath.
"We've got two hours left," Emberfell said, checking the time crystal. "But the way back will take at least one hour… which means…"
"One hour to hunt,".
We all exchanged glances.
According to the novel, this group one was supposed to encounter at least three Feral-ranked beasts and one Savage-ranked before returning.
Which meant—they are far ahead.
As we prepared to move again, Emberfell and Renhal exchanged a few words.
"Hey, Ember," Renhal said, wiping sweat off his brow.
"Are you planning to roast me too, or are you saving that fire magic for the actual beast?"
Emberfell raised an eyebrow. "Please. If I roasted you, the stench would attract every beast in the forest. I'm sparing the team."
Renhal laughed. "Generous of you. You know, for a guy who flings fireballs, your aim is dangerously close to friendly fire."
"Don't blame me if your reflexes are slower than a sloth on sleeping pills," Emberfell shot back.
"Hey! I'll have you know I'm quick. It's just hard dodging when your backside's half on fire."
Veyla chuckled softly from behind. "Maybe don't stand in front of the guy who's literally glowing."
"Right?" Orion added. "He practically yells 'incoming heat' every time he lifts a hand."
Emberfell rolled his eyes but grinned. "Glad to know I'm appreciated."
Renhal nudged him with an elbow. "Hey, if we make it out of here alive with a few extra points, I'll buy you a fireproof cloak. Deal?"
"Deal. And maybe I'll teach you how to not swing like a drunken boar."
They laughed and I stood in silence.
Even in a deadly forest, moments like these made us feel like a real team.
"One more hour," I said to myself. "Let's make a little more progress."
We all stood up and about to move but-
BOOM!
A thunderous blast shook the clearing.
Flames erupted just a few meters away from us. Debris flew. A shockwave knocked dust and leaves into the air.
We stumbled back, shielding our eyes.
And then—
Out of the smoke walked a figure.
Dressed in black from head to toe. A long cloak fluttering in the wind. A black mask covered the face.
The figure's presence felt like a dark blade drawn in silence.
"An assassin",shouted Zevir.
My heart dropped.
What…? I broke into a sweat.
According to the novel, seven assassins were supposed to appear—five attacking Group 1, and two targeting Group 3.
But this…, one was here.
"Only one... does that mean they've split differently?"
Could it be- four assassins went after Group 1… two for Group 3… and one for us?
Whose evil plan was this?
(Does this mean everything I knew from the novel… is about to change?)
(Is it because of me?).
The assassin didn't say a word. But from the controlled aura around him—sharp, calm, and murderous—I could tell.
He wasn't some scout.
He was a professional killer.
Strong.
Skilled.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
And we were not ready.
I instinctively stepped in front of Veyla.
...............................................................
The assassin raised his hand—and in a flash of movement, he dashed forward.
Zevir and Kaelric were the first targets.
He struck with terrifying speed.
A single strike to the ribs.
A follow-up kick to the skull.
Both collapsed, unconscious, barely able to react.
"No!" Orion shouted. "Who the hell are you?! Why are you attacking us? We're students of Arcadia Academy!"
"They'll not spare you if you hurt us!" Renhal said, clutching his sword.
But the assassin didn't reply.
"Ember!" I yelled. "Crush the vessel—NOW!"
Emberfell didn't hesitate. He reached into his belt, crushed the beacon.
But the assassin spoke—his voice muffled, but cold.
"It's no use."
He lifted his hand, and a magical symbol appeared briefly in the air surrounding the open area.
This sigil likely activated a barrier.
"I've sealed the area with a barrier spell. It'll take ten minutes for your signal to reach your backup"
He drew a curved blade.
"And in ten minutes… they'll only find your corpses."
My breath caught in my throat.
We're doomed.
I had been watching his every move—the way he used both blades and spells.
A dual-type.
A swordsman… and a mage.
That means close combat is useless.
Fighting him with magic alone wouldn't be enough either.
This time…
I shouted, "Orion! Emberfell! Don't hold back—use ice magic directly on his body!"
"Zevir—grab his legs and hold them down!"
"Kaelric and I will each grab both of his arms!"
"Veyla—heal whoever's hit! Don't stop!"
They followed without question.
Zevir, though dazed, lunged forward and tackled the assassin's legs, locking them with all his strength.
Kaelric and I dove in from the sides, grabbing the assassin's arms before he could swing.
Orion and Emberfell unleashed frost magic. Crystals of ice surged over the masked killer's cloak, slowing his movement.
"GRRAAH!"
The assassin growled, and then released a powerful burst of dark magic.
That magic looked like streams of black lightning, which shot out violently and hit directly to us, injuring our arms and legs.
But we held on.
Veyla cried out loudly. Her skin had turned pale from exhaustion, and she was using healing magic again and again without stopping. The effort was so intense that her mana was exausted.
We suffered severe injuries.
our skin was cut deeply, and were bleeding heavily.
But despite all the pain, we didn't back down.
Because we had to.
Because if we didn't… we would all die.
"We had only one choice: kill the assassin, or be killed."
The assassin struggled.
"You're… wasting your strength!"
His blade twitched—but Zevir wrapped his arms around both legs like iron chains.
We shouted through the pain.
"HOLD HIM!"
Magic burned around us.
But we didn't let go.
Only two minutes to hold.
"We just needed two minutes", I shouted.