CHAPTER 1009: THREE CLOAKS

The blasts of Esther’s Magic still echoed in the forest, smoke curling through the trees.

For a moment the company waited in a tense mood with weapons ready. But no enemies emerged from the treeline. Only the crackling of fire and the faint rustle of leaves answered them.

Jan’s bow remained drawn, his sharp eyes scanning every shadow. His voice was low, grim. "They’re not people. Those arrows were also just Magic."

Arty gulped. She glanced around at the ground where the barrage should have left shafts and iron heads scattered but nothing remained.

The arrows had vanished the instant they hit Annette’s dome or sank into the earth. Not even splinters were left behind.

Her heart pounded as she realized that this was a kind of Magic she had never seen before. Not fire, ice, wind, or earth like she has. This was conjuring something from nothing and creating weapons out of pure Magic energy.

She nodded to herself. "There’s still so much I don’t know..."

Before her thoughts could spiral, Annette’s voice cut through the haze. Calm, steady, like always.

"Another one." She raised her hands and golden light weaving outward until the dome shimmered into existence once again.

The forest stirred and shapes emerged. Dozens of figures stepping between the trees with swords, axes, hammers, etc. Their weapons gleaming faintly under the filtered light.

But something was wrong. Their faces twisted in blank fury, their eyes also blank, their movements stiff.

They didn’t shout warnings or challenge like normal bandits. They simply rushed forward, slamming against Annette’s barrier with savage force.

Sparks of golden light flew with every strike as the barrier held firm.

"These too are Magic," Annette murmured, her gaze cold but she was still calm.

Arty’s teeth clenched. Her aura showed how her feelings are. It shimmered red and wild, pulsing with the rhythm of her anger.

She tried to hold it down and breathe steady but the frustration clawed at her.

"Arty." Jan’s voice cut through the chaos. He glanced back at her, his expression sharp but calm. "Can you use your Magic to detect the real caster behind this?"

Arty’s eyes widened. "Detect them?" Her voice was incredulous.

Jan didn’t flinch. "Yes. Think of it as training. We’ll hold the line. You focus."

"Training?" The word echoed in her mind. Part of her wanted to scream. They were surrounded by unknown enemies wielding terrifying Magic and he still thought of training?

But she caught Esther’s eyes then. The witch nodded silently, as though confirming Jan’s judgment.

She too could have done this but she was leaving it to Arty.

Arty swallowed hard and decided that there would be no more complaints. She shut her eyes.

Her aura rippled outward, threads of light weaving through the air. She reached with her Magic like fingers stretching through unseen waters.

The barrier hummed around her, shaking with every hit from the conjured warriors. Their voices ragged and meaningless, like puppets screaming without thought.

Arty pushed deeper and wider. The forest resisted. Its shadows were heavy with false trails and tangled flows of another power.

But she kept pressing, forcing her will to expand and cut through the noise.

Her heartbeat quickened. Her breath grew heavy. Then she found them.

A knot of power that feels stronger than the rest was hidden beneath the veil of illusions.

She latched onto it and forcing her senses to sharpen.

The waves of foreign Magic bent toward a single point as if those arrows, every phantom blade, every false body was nothing but a string tied back to a single hand.

Arty’s eyes flew open. She pointed forward.

"Fifty meters ahead. That’s where the caster is!" her voice steady and carrying a spark of triumph.

Jan reacted instantly. He drew, notched, and loosed an arrow in less than three seconds. The bowstring snapping back with a sharp twang.

He hadn’t aimed for precision but only at the direction Arty had indicated.

The arrow whistled through the trees and vanished into the shadowed undergrowth.

A harsh clang of metal rang out, cutting through the air.

Jan’s eyes narrowed. His arrow hadn’t struck bark or earth. It had been deflected.

"They’re really there," he muttered, voice grim with certainty.

He turned his gaze toward Esther and in that brief glance she understood his intent without further words.

Esther’s staff flared alive as she summoned her strength.

The runes etched along its surface pulsed with deep crimson light. She pointed the staff forward, her lips moving in a silent command as the energy gathered and coalescing into a blazing orb of flame.

"Annette." Jan’s voice was sharp.

Annette gave a single nod, her barrier shifting at her command.

A section at the front split open like a golden curtain parting, creating a narrow channel.

The barrier still shone strong around the rest of them but now there was a clear line of fire ahead.

Esther didn’t hesitate. The fiery mass streaked from her staff, compressed into a bolt of pure flame.

It tore through the air as a blur of heat and fury.

BOOM!

The explosion shattered the forest, rattling the trees and sending a wave of smoke and dust surging upward.

The ground shook beneath their feet and sparks of fire scattered through the undergrowth.

For a moment nothing but the sound of crackling flames and falling debris filled the air.

Everyone have their eyes fixed on the cloud of smoke.

Then they saw movement of three shadows burst free, leaping high into the air before landing with feline grace beyond the flaming wreckage.

Cloaks fluttered behind them, their forms shrouded but unmistakably human.

Jan’s bow was already drawn again, but his sharp gaze narrowed as he studied them.

They weren’t ordinary enemies.

There were the glows of faint runes traced along the hems of their cloaks.

"That’s our casters," Esther said under her breath, her staff still raised and brimming with heat.

The cloaked figures didn’t speak or hesitate.

Their hands rose in unison, gestures weaving the air with patterns of light.

Energy shimmered at their fingertips and the forest itself seemed to darken in response.

Annette’s barrier pulsed again, golden veins tightening as though preparing for another storm.

Arty’s aura flickered red and wild. The threads of her Magic reacting instinctively to the growing pressure.

Her jaw clenched, and she forced herself to stay focused.

Jan exhaled slowly, his arrow steady.

"Now that we saw our enemies we just need to attack harder."

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