The cave was cold and damp. Lucien, lost in his thoughts, suddenly snapped to attention—no one in their team had set up any defensive measures.
He quickly stepped forward and reminded Ava, "Respected Mage, if I may—could you please cast a defensive spell?"
The dim light in the cave made every footstep echo eerily, amplified as though they were being hunted. The confidence Ava had shown before entering was gone now; her heart pounded in her chest, and every shadowy corner ahead seemed to hide a lurking monster. She was already on edge, and Lucien's reminder jolted her into realizing her oversight.
Of course—she should have cast a defensive spell!
She nodded at once. "Right, I'll—"
She never got to finish that sentence.
Whoosh—!
A sharp sound sliced through the air. The enemy's archers and assassins had launched their ambush. Typically, a squad would only field one archer, but the Bloodclaw Mercenary team had deployed two—one of them a high-level archer. In an instant, three arrows and two daggers hurtled toward Ava, who stood protected at the center of the formation.
The poisoned daggers and two arrows came from different angles, cutting off every route of escape. A faint blue glow shimmered on the arrowheads—poisoned tips!
But the most terrifying of all was one particular arrow—twice as thick as the others, half a meter longer, slicing through the air with a deadly howl as it shot straight for Ava's heart.
The enemy's intent was clear—take down Ava first, at all costs.
Panic gripped her.
Clang!
Lorne's sword flashed in a silver arc, knocking the two daggers from the air.
Lucien's eyes narrowed. He flung two throwing knives from his hands, striking the other arrows with pinpoint precision. The force diverted them, sending them clattering into the cave walls.
But neither of them managed to stop that final, deadly arrow.
In a heartbeat, Kyle lunged forward, wrapping Ava in his arms and spinning around, shielding her with his back.
But the expected pain never came.
Lorne leapt backward.
Thud! The massive arrow pierced through his left shoulder blade and pinned him against the rock wall, its force carrying him several feet through the air.
"Lorne!" Lucien's voice shook with rage and fear.
But he didn't even have time to rush to his comrade's aid—the second wave was already incoming. Another volley: three arrows, two daggers, identical to the first strike.
One arrow screamed through the air, trailing a shockwave.
Lucien had already realized during the first attack—only a high-level archer could have fired that monster of an arrow. And whoever they were, they had rich battlefield experience. This was a purely ranged assault, designed for one goal: kill Ava in a single strike.
With Lorne down, Lucien knew he couldn't protect her on his own.
He hurled two more knives, knocking the incoming daggers off course, then sprang into the air, arms spread, shielding Lorne with his body.
The massive arrow shrieked like a banshee, its shaft rippling with crimson energy waves. It tore toward Ava with devastating force—and just as it was about to pierce her chest—
A translucent golden barrier materialized in mid-air.
The arrow struck the magical shield with a burst of sparks.
CLANG! The metallic resonance echoed through the cave as the shaft bent violently from the backlash, snapping in two with a loud crack. The remaining arrows struck the barrier like hail against a wall, skittering down with faint, flickering traces of blue magic before clattering to the ground.
In Kyle's arms, Ava trembled uncontrollably.
It was the first time she'd experienced firsthand the brutal reality of combat. The first time she'd seen a friend injured—because of her mistake.
"Lorne!"
Without a second thought, Ava raised her hand and cast a second defensive spell over the team. Then she stumbled backward, panic in her steps, toward Lorne who was still pinned to the rock wall.
His face had turned ashen, and the blood trickling from his wound had already turned a sickly shade of purple-black.
Lucien's eyes were icy, but in the end, he forced out a stiff, strained smile and croaked, "Hurry, he's been poisoned!"
Ava didn't answer. She flipped her palm, and a small glass vial appeared out of thin air. She bit off the cork and poured the green liquid into Lorne's mouth without hesitation. As soon as the vial was empty, it refilled itself again. She poured the rest of the liquid directly onto his wound—
Sssss!
The moment the antidote touched the tainted blood, a plume of acrid purple smoke rose into the air. Lorne's pale complexion flushed back with color before their very eyes, and even more astonishing—his wound began to heal. Muscle fibers writhed and knit back together, forcing the arrowhead out of his body. Blood vessels and torn flesh regenerated at an astonishing speed. Within half a minute, there wasn't even a scar left behind.
"What a waste… using something like that on me." Those were Lorne's first words after regaining consciousness.
He could feel it in his bones—the poison had been vicious. In mere seconds, his limbs had gone numb. He had the chilling certainty that if Ava had arrived even a few seconds later, his heart would've stopped.
And yet, such a terrifying poison had been completely purged in the blink of an eye. Not only were there no side effects—he actually felt stronger.
But no one was more shocked than Carlos.
The poison was the accidental creation of a high-ranking mage friend of his. Even its creator hadn't been able to develop a cure. Anyone struck with it was guaranteed to die.
Unless... unless they were a legendary-level mage. Or used a legendary-tier antidote.
Carlos's pupils contracted sharply. A cold sweat drenched his back. That frail, tear-streaked little mage across from him suddenly looked like a terrifying enigma. Without a moment's hesitation, he signaled his team with a sharp gesture: "Retreat!"
The squad began to fall back immediately, all except Krozzos, who spat on the ground in frustration—he hadn't even gotten a chance to fight. He had no idea where Carlos's poison had come from. From what he'd seen, the girl mage looked like a fool, and now he hesitated.
"Idiot!" Carlos snapped, turning around in fury—only to freeze, all the blood draining from his face.
His eyes went wide with terror, lips trembling, unable to speak.
All Krozzos saw was Carlos's twisted expression—warped by sheer fear.
It was the last thing he would ever see.