The clash of blades filled the forest like thunder.
Haruto's sword met the assassin's curved dagger again and again, the Nullblade humming with defiance. His opponent moved with practiced precision—silent steps, no wasted movement. But Haruto had fought monsters in both worlds. He recognized fear in every guarded swing.
"You're afraid," Haruto said, parrying a low slash.
The assassin didn't answer. Instead, they feinted left, then went high. Haruto ducked, slashed upward—and caught their mask.
It cracked with a sharp snap, revealing a glimpse of pale skin and a single silver eye.
"You're not just any assassin," Haruto muttered.
Before he could press further, a shriek rang out. Kaela had downed her second Blightcloak, blood blooming across the forest floor like ink.
Lucien wrestled with the third, using a burst of light magic to blind his foe before slamming the pommel of his blade into their temple.
Only two remained—and one was wounded.
The leader backed away, lifting a small obsidian charm from their belt. "The Queen's orders were clear," they rasped. "But you weren't supposed to remember."
Haruto's eyes narrowed. "Remember what?"
They crushed the charm in their palm.
Dark smoke erupted, engulfing the assassin. Haruto lunged, but the shadowy mist swallowed them completely. When it cleared—only a smoldering patch of dirt remained.
Kaela approached, breathing hard. "Cowards."
Lucien sheathed his sword. "Not cowards. Messengers."
Haruto stared at the cracked mask still lying in the leaves. The single silver eye still lingered in his mind—cold and familiar.
"They were warning us," he said. "We're not just hunted now. We're expected."
Kaela glanced toward the north. "Then whatever's in Etheria… we better get to it before they do."