A short while earlier...

"Where are they?" Devy muttered under her breath as she continued to search for the traces of Jogo and Rudi.

She sharpened her magical senses and activated her detection skill, but not even the faintest ripple responded to her efforts.

"How could they vanish so quickly...?"

Her steps eventually brought her near the city forest. After combing through the more obvious and potential locations with no results, the only place left to investigate was this forest—the most suspicious of all, yet also the most troublesome due to its vastness.

The night air was cold enough to sting against the skin, every breath she exhaled blooming into a pale mist that vanished almost instantly. A thin fog was beginning to creep along the ground, swallowing the roots of ancient trees that jutted upward like the twisted arms of long-forgotten giants.

Devy pressed both of her palms together, summoning her power.

Advanced Elemental Magic – Ice Type: Arctic Clairvoyance

Woshh!

Dozens upon dozens of translucent ice shards materialized high above the canopy of trees, each shaped like a perfectly-cut prism. They floated in precise alignment, spreading throughout the forest's expanse. These crystalline fragments functioned like mirrors, catching reflections and interlinking them into a seamless chain of visuals—allowing her to peer into distant corners of the woods as though she were seeing through hundreds of eyes.

Moonlight refracted across the prisms, scattering pale blue gleams that shimmered in the night. The forest itself seemed to awaken under that glow, every shadow of branch and leaf multiplied into eerie distortions, like a thousand phantom eyes watching silently from the dark. Devy's fingers trembled ever so slightly, straining to maintain the delicate balance of energy that sustained the skill.

"There..." she whispered as her eyes locked onto a particular reflection.

Her spell captured a blurred yet recognizable scene: Jogo and Rudi were both present, their masks finally removed, their weary faces exposed. What she did not see, however, was Al. The absence of the young man only heightened her suspicions, but she decided to move nonetheless. Even if Al was not there, eliminating those two would still serve its purpose.

Without hesitation, she launched herself deeper into the forest, bounding from branch to branch.

The wind whistled past her ears with every leap, scattering dead leaves in her wake. Each step upon the massive boughs was light yet precise, carrying her swiftly toward her targets. Her pupils narrowed, her vision sharp as a hawk, and her entire body flowed like water through the trees.

It wasn't long before she arrived near the location—but she abruptly halted. An unsettling sensation gnawed at her instincts.

Pressing herself against the trunk of an enormous tree, she carefully peeked around it. What she saw instantly robbed her of breath.

A man clad entirely in black was toying with Jogo and Rudi. His movements were languid, almost playful, like a cat tormenting two helpless mice, never striking to kill but also never allowing them a chance to breathe.

The figure flitted about like a shadow detached from the earth itself, every motion deceptively casual yet executed with frightening precision. Occasionally the pale light of the moon caught the edge of his mask, intensifying the ominous aura that clung to him.

Devy's gaze sharpened, and her stomach twisted in realization. Those two being tossed around were undeniably the sons of noble houses—Rudi Norvalien and Jogo Karagara. But then... who in the world was this man in black?

She observed with a racing heart as Rudi and Jogo unleashed their full techniques, pouring out dangerous amounts of energy. Yet the masked man didn't even seem to exert himself. He wasn't drawing on any visible power at all. His demeanor was almost leisurely, as if a grown warrior, muscles honed through decades of battle, was casually brushing aside the desperate strikes of two infants struggling with their first steps.

Devy's muscles tensed. Her eyes widened, her heartbeat thundered so loudly it nearly drowned out the sounds of combat.

Could such a powerful person even exist...?

But the longer she watched, the clearer it became.

No... this isn't merely overwhelming strength. This is technique—skill tempered through countless battles. Experience so vast it makes raw power meaningless in comparison.

And in the end, the mysterious man defeated Rudi and Jogo almost effortlessly. The bout had been short, yet it was more than enough for Devy to feel her respect ignite. She understood all too well that in combat, a pebble wielded by an expert could be far deadlier than a firearm in the hands of an amateur.

A strange mix of awe and curiosity welled within her chest. It was rare for her to witness a fighter of such caliber. But in the very next moment, that awe twisted into sheer shock.

"A... Al..." she breathed, barely audible, as the man's mask slipped away, revealing beneath the moonlight none other than the face of the young man she had come to know.

Her hands flew instinctively to cover her mouth. Her eyes went wide, disbelief painted across every feature. Never—never had she imagined that the boy she thought was nothing more than an ordinary youth possessed such terrifying ability.

Her body began to tremble, her nails digging into her own lips until pain almost drew blood. Her knees weakened, pressing her against the rough bark for support.

And then her heart seized as his gaze turned her way. Al's eyes, sharp and piercing, locked onto her hiding spot. Instinct screamed at her to retreat. She pressed herself behind the trunk, every nerve screaming in panic. Her throat ran dry, her blood felt frozen, and every strand of hair along her arms and neck stood on end.

Fortunately, an explosion sounded in the distance. Devy risked a glance and saw several figures—men dressed like shamans—intervening, aiding Rudi and Jogo. She watched as grotesque creatures—pocong, wrapped in burial shrouds—were summoned only to be annihilated by Al's hands. The attackers then retreated, vanishing with the aid of a transportation stone.

When the dust settled, Al remained there alone.

That fact unsettled her most of all. For if Al was left alone, then it meant there were now only two people present in the forest: him... and her.

Suddenly—

GRAB!

In the blink of an eye, Al appeared before her, his hand closing tightly around her throat, slamming her back against the massive trunk. The impact rattled the branches above, scattering leaves down like rain.

Her head snapped back, vision blurred with dizziness. Her windpipe burned under his grip, breath strangled by fingers as unyielding as iron. Reflexively she grasped at his wrist, but his strength was immovable, as if she were trying to pry apart stone itself.

His eyes no longer resembled the aloof youth she once saw at the café. Instead, they burned with the cold fury of a reaper poised to deliver judgment.

His gaze cut straight through her, every second whispering the inevitability of death. His breath came harsh and heavy, and the pressure of his grip screamed that he could end her life in the span of a heartbeat.

What should I do...? Fight back? Beg? Her mind raced, but deep down she knew—whatever happened next, her life would never return to normal after this terrifying encounter.

Then suddenly—

"Ahh... it's you," Al exhaled in relief, loosening his grip before releasing her entirely. "My apologies. I thought you were an enemy. My mood hasn't been the best tonight, haha."

His shoulders relaxed slightly, his breath uncoiled from tension, though faint traces of stress still lingered in the hardened line of his jaw.

Devy staggered, stunned by the abrupt change. Her throat still burned, and her mind reeled. Shock numbed her into silence as she clutched at her neck, trembling fingers tracing the ache left behind by his hold. Her gaze flickered nervously between him and her surroundings, every muscle poised to flee at the slightest sign of danger.

Al meanwhile flexed his palm, channeling golden energy into his hand to soothe the blackened marks seared into his flesh. The golden light pulsed faintly, illuminating his lazy yet guarded expression. His eyes drifted over Devy, studying her from head to toe like a predator deciding whether to finish the hunt or grant a reprieve.

"Ice mages usually have pale faces... but you look far paler than usual. Are you unwell?" His tone was casual, almost conversational, though his sharp eyes maintained enough edge to keep her nerves taut.

Devy felt a faint sense of relief at those words, as though the crushing tension that had been strangling her chest was beginning to loosen its grip. The sharp tightness in her shoulders slowly softened. Her breathing steadied little by little, though the ghost of fear still lingered in the depths of her heart.

She dipped her head slightly, almost like a small bow, before stepping sideways, seeking a more comfortable stance. Her hands brushed at her clothes, flicking away bits of dirt and crushed leaves that had clung to the fabric when her back had been pressed harshly against the rough bark of the tree.

But her movements were far from steady. Each step carried a subtle tremor, her knees wobbling as if they had forgotten the strength required to bear the weight of her own body. It was as though the ground itself might give way beneath her feet. She bit down on her lower lip, hard enough to sting, attempting to suppress the faint quiver still trembling through her chest.

"I… I am fine," she finally said, though her voice betrayed a faint tremble that contradicted her words. "I came here looking for you—or more accurately, I was sent with the task of rescuing you."

Al's brows knitted in confusion at her declaration. His forehead creased, his expression carrying the look of someone genuinely puzzled. His eyebrows lifted and fell in small motions, a rhythm that reflected the sincerity of his bewilderment.

"Was it that strange woman—Yura, I think—who sent you here?" he asked, frowning slightly.

At the mention of Yura's name, Devy's eyes sharpened instantly. Her entire expression shifted with startling abruptness—fear was replaced by something fierce and unyielding. Her chin lifted with pride, her gaze hardened to blades of steel, and her once-uncertain presence transformed into that of a guardian ready to fight to the end. Both of her fists clenched tightly at her sides, the tension in her fingers betraying the trembling that still ran through her veins.

"I do not know if I have the strength to defeat you," she declared firmly, her voice laced with determination that sought to overpower her lingering fear. "But if you dare speak ill of her, then I will not hesitate—I will fight you."

Her hand lifted in a swift, defiant motion, fingers extended toward Al. At her command, light began to gather, coalescing into a pale blue radiance that shimmered against her skin. The glow condensed near her palm, humming with icy magic, and the deadly tip of that power hovered just inches away from Al's throat.

Her fingertips trembled ever so slightly, the faint quiver betraying the conflict within her. Yet the cold azure glow of her ice magic writhed wildly, as though trying to veil her hesitation and lend strength to the courage she struggled to uphold.

Al's eyes narrowed dangerously, his piercing gaze locking onto her with the weight of a predator sizing up its prey. A subtle red gleam flickered in his pupils, as though embers had been lit behind them. Slowly, deliberately, his hand began to rise, reaching toward her.

The very air between them thickened in an instant. It pressed down on the forest around them, heavy and suffocating. The drifting leaves that had been falling through the night air suddenly froze mid-descent, suspended as though caught within an invisible current of force.

The atmosphere trembled under the collision of their wills. Two presences, sharp and unyielding, clashed in silence. For a heartbeat, the world itself seemed to hold its breath.

Swooshhh…

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