CHAPTER 112: ASSAULT

Meanwhile, the moment Eli vanished into the fold of space, Ariel was left standing among the goblins, her tails flicking sharply as she tried to mask her unease.

He had warped away without a word to her, chasing after some unseen threat, leaving her surrounded by creatures who would rather sink their blades into her than tolerate her presence.

Her ears twitched, catching the hushed tones and hurried movements of the clan.

They were scrambling, their unease obvious, and from the way they muttered and moved with nervous urgency, it was clear they knew something she didn’t.

So she stepped forward, closing the distance toward Zarah. The archer reacted immediately, posture stiff, bowstring half-drawn, molten suspicion simmering in her sharp gaze.

"What is going on?" Ariel demanded, whispering into Zarah’s thoughts. Her voice was low but edged with tension.

Zarah eyed for a moment and then responded.

"It is none of your business."

Ariel’s lips curled, teeth clicking together in irritation.

She took a deliberate step forward, intent clear—leaning in to intimidate, to remind the goblin who truly held the fire. But that was all it took for the oath to answer.

Invisible chains erupted into being, searing across her chest, hooking into her heart with an agonizing grip. Ariel’s breath hitched in her throat before she collapsed, claws tearing into the dirt as she writhed. A guttural cry ripped from her lips, a sound so raw and primal it left no doubt of its sincerity.

Her body convulsed violently as the binding pulled tight, punishing her for even the thought of harm.

The goblins froze, stunned into silence as the proud fox twisted helplessly under an unseen force, her body contorted in agony.

"Arrgh! You damned goblin!" she howled, her claws gouging grooves into the earth as she thrashed.

Zarah stood rooted, momentarily shocked by the sight. The oath was real.

Eli’s words hadn’t been bluster. The fox was bound, every fiber of her being chained to his command.

But Zarah didn’t waste time gawking.

She shoved her surprise aside, turning sharply to retreat into the cave and rally the others.

That was when she saw it.

Movement at the treeline.

Figures emerged from the shadows of the forest—goblins, a dozen at least, their crude weapons glinting faintly in the dim light. At their head, shrouded in a tattered cloak, was the one figure she recognized instantly.

The shaman. Staff in hand, eyes burning with that same unnatural glow. The very same goblin who had struck them before.

The one who had killed Zzok.

Zarah’s breath caught.

Her fingers moved on instinct, nocking an arrow even as she backed away, putting distance between herself and the advancing horde.

"Enemies!" she shouted, her voice carrying like an alarm toward those still inside the cave.

The cloaked shaman lifted his staff high.

His voice cut through the clearing with venomous authority as he barked a single word.

"Get them!"

The goblin soldiers roared in unison, surging forward.

*

"You damned goblin!"

Ariel’s voice rang sharp and furious in my head as I moved swiftly through the forest, but I paid no attention to it.

She must have tried something against one of mine and paid the price. Good. At least now I knew the binding wasn’t just for show. That was one less thing to worry about.

I couldn’t afford to dwell on her.

My focus had to remain on the threat closing in.

Two Blessed were moving toward me, and if I didn’t intercept them before they reached the cave, my clan would be in danger.

The activation of the skill [Finder] had brought with it a new interface, a translucent map hovering faintly at the edge of my vision.

My own location pulsed at its center, while two glowing marks crept steadily closer from the north. The distance between us shrank with every heartbeat, and from the way they moved, it was obvious they were coming for me.

Now, as to whether or not one of the approaching Blessed was the goblin shaman, Amon, I couldn’t be sure. The possibility gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside.

After all, it didn’t matter. Blessed were Blessed, and it was safest to treat every single one of Drugar’s chosen as a lethal threat.

I glanced at the map again. The glowing marks that represented my pursuers had drawn closer still, their positions pressing toward mine like hunters closing in on prey.

Without hesitation, I warped—folding space in an instant and reappearing directly above their location.

The skill lifted me into the air, momentum bending around me as I scanned the ground below. But the forest floor looked undisturbed. No shadows shifted between the trees. No rustle of bodies slipped through the underbrush. Empty.

My lips pressed into a thin line.

I blinked forward again, the world snapping into place as I crouched on a thick branch, bark rough beneath my palm. The canopy offered both cover and vantage—the kind of height I preferred.

I checked the map once more.

The markers were still there, closer than ever, indicating the Blessed were directly beneath me.

I held my breath, narrowing my eyes, letting the forest sharpen around me.

And then I heard it—steps.

Subtle at first, but enough to set my nerves alight.

I turned toward the sound....

HwooOOOooo!

And just then, a howl split the air

From the shadows surged a wave of raw force, a wall of sonic energy ripping upward, aimed squarely at where I crouched.

It moved fast—fast enough to shred bark, fast enough to kill if I hesitated.

But not faster than instinct.

I warped in an instant, folding space and vanishing as the attack struck. The tree exploded where I’d been crouching, the thick limb blown apart into jagged splinters. The upper half of the trunk groaned, then toppled through the canopy before slamming into the ground below with a thunderous crash.

I reappeared on the forest floor, boots digging into the dirt, eyes already scanning for the source.

And then the goblin revealed himself.

The attacker stepped forward into a shaft of light, his presence undeniable.

This goblin wasn’t tall—not like the shaman Amon, not even as tall as me—but his green frame was packed with dense muscle, every movement coiled with raw strength. In his hands gleamed twin axes, the blades worn but deadly, carried with the ease of someone who knew exactly how to use them.

I narrowed my eyes and called [Analyze] into play.

And the details appeared before me...