Chapter 9: Like a moth to a flame
Mitch closed his eyes and extended his mana sense, feeling the familiar tingling sensation as his consciousness expanded outward like invisible tendrils.
The forest around them pulsed with life, but among the natural rhythms of trees and wildlife, he detected something else, hostile signatures burning like malevolent stars in his perception.
Six tier 1 signatures clustered together, their mana signatures crude and chaotic, while a seventh presence loomed larger and more organized, a tier 2, its energy dense and threatening.
"Can you fight?" Mitch asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he slowly drew his sword.
The familiar weight of the blade felt reassuring in his grip.
"Yeah," Leya nodded, her jaw set with determination despite the exhaustion that lined her face.
The first volley of arrows whistled through the air with deadly precision, their crude fletching spinning as they sought their targets.
But without the element of surprise, both fighters had precious seconds to react.
Mitch threw himself to the left, feeling the wind of an arrow as it passed close enough to ruffle his hair.
Leya rolled behind a moss-covered boulder, bark exploding where an arrow struck the tree just behind her previous position.
"On your left!" Mitch shouted, his voice cutting through the forest’s sudden silence.
Leya’s training kicked in instantly. She pivoted on her heel, raising her sword in a textbook parry just as a rusty knife thrust toward her ribs.