Chapter 218: Southern wilds 2
Mercenaries.
Six revealed themselves at first, but the forest had more to give. Shadows stirred, and from them stepped another, then another. Soon, nearly twenty men and women spread through the trees, forming a loose but unmistakable circle around Jae’s squad.
Tirel’s playful smirk vanished as she counted them. "Well... this is new." Her voice carried bravado, but the fire gathering at her fingertips betrayed readiness, not ease.
Elise’s breath caught, too quick, too shallow. Mana swirled around her in fine threads, flickering with every tremor in her hands. "They can’t be part of the academy right?." Her eyes darted to Jae, as if waiting for him to tell her this was still a test.
Byun’s shadows pulled tighter, swirling against his arms like serpents wound for a strike. His grin was absent, his tone dry. "Definitely not. Their killing intent’s too thick. This isn’t staged."
For a moment, silence stretched. The mercenaries stood still, letting their numbers press down heavier than any weapon. They were hunters who knew patience, the kind who enjoyed watching prey squirm before the blade dropped.
Then, from among them, one stepped forward.
A tall man, broad in the shoulders, with a scar that split his chin like an old wound that never healed right. A jagged axe rested against his shoulder, its edge nicked and worn but still hungry. His stride carried no hesitation. When he spoke, his voice carried a thick accent, heavy and rough, but clear enough.
"You’re the one," he said, eyes fixing on Jae without drifting once. "The academy’s golden boy."
The words fell like stones into still water.
Jae’s eyes narrowed. His jaw tightened, but his tone remained flat, even. "You’ve got the wrong squad if you think this is part of the trial."
The man smirked, teeth flashing faintly in the dying light. "We know exactly what this is. And you’ll forgive us if we don’t waste time playing your little games."
Something cold coiled through Jae’s chest. The words weren’t bluffs. They weren’t the empty threats of bandits testing courage. They rang with certainty, as though these men had walked into the wilds with one purpose, and that purpose stood before them now.
Elise’s voice cracked with dread. "Jae... why are they looking at you like that?"
Because they know.
The thought slammed into him with clarity sharper than the blade forming in his hand. They know what happened with the Shadow General. They know what I did. His heart beat heavier, the weight of realization pressing into his ribs. The only way they could know was if someone told them, someone inside the academy, someone close enough to whisper truths that were supposed to stay buried.
The mercenary leader shifted the axe, lifting it so the edge caught the last flicker of sunlight bleeding through the canopy. His grin widened, cruel and certain. "We’ll make this simple. Come quietly, boy. Or your little friends die screaming."
Tirel’s laugh broke the tension for a heartbeat, sharp, mocking, a spark of fire cutting through shadow. She tossed her hair back, her stance low, shoulders squared. "Big mistake, handsome. You should’ve brought twice as many."
Byun’s shadows rippled outward like dark waves eager to crash. His smile was back, thin and cold. "Or ten times."
Elise said nothing, but her feet shifted subtly closer to Jae’s, her mana threads weaving tighter. The faint glow of her power wrapped him in invisible strands of reinforcement, bracing him without words. Her silence was not fear alone. It was resolve.
Jae stayed still. His breathing slowed, his chest steady despite the fire kindling inside him. For a heartbeat, he let himself weigh the moment, their numbers, the formation, the forest pressing in like another enemy. His instincts clawed at him, telling him what he already knew. This wasn’t a fight they could talk their way out of.
These men weren’t here to scare. They weren’t here to test. They were here to kill, or worse.
His hand drifted toward his side. The warmth stirred immediately, as though his very blood had been waiting for the call. Mana ignited in his veins, racing to his hand like wildfire answering a spark.
The Dragonfire Blade answered.
It bloomed into being with a hiss, flames licking into the shape of steel, its heat bending the air around it. Smoke curled upward, the scent of burning bark filling the clearing. The blade gleamed against the creeping dark of the forest, alive with restless fire.
The mercenaries shifted instinctively, feet planting wider, grips tightening on hilts and axes. A few cursed under their breath, masks of confidence cracking in the glow.
The leader’s grin did not falter. If anything, it stretched wider. "Ah. So the stories weren’t lies." His voice carried a low note of satisfaction, as if confirmation was all he had wanted.
Jae smirked in return, though his eyes burned harder than his lips betrayed. He tilted the blade, embers spilling from its edge like sparks from a forge, scattering into the dirt at his feet. The forest light caught his red eyes, glowing faintly in reflection of the fire.
"You wanted me," he said. His voice was calm, almost casual, but it landed heavy in the silence. "Now you’ve got me."
The forest itself seemed to hold its breath. No wind stirred the canopy. No insect dared break the quiet. Only the low crackle of fire along the Dragonfire Blade filled the air.
Around them, the mercenaries adjusted, stances shifting from intimidation to preparation. Knuckles whitened on hilts. Boots dug into soil. Every one of them understood that hesitation here meant death.
Byun’s shadows stretched farther, a black tide spilling into the underbrush, reaching for ankles and throats alike. His grin widened, though his eyes gleamed with a focus rare even for him.
Tirel’s flames pulsed brighter, her hands surrounded by whorls of shimmering orange. Firelight danced in her hair, her smirk returning like a mask she wore before battle.
Elise steadied her stance, drawing a deeper breath, her trembling quelled by force of will. Threads of mana expanded from her core, weaving through the squad, tethering them together with invisible strength. Whatever came, she would not falter.
Jae adjusted his grip, blade humming against his palm, fire whispering in eager hunger. He could feel the others at his back, not as burdens, but as extensions of his own will. The clash was not avoidable. It was written in the silence, in the fire, in the shadows gathering between roots.
The inevitable moment broke.
The first mercenary lunged forward.
And Jae stepped to meet him,