The clearing that had felt comfortable minutes ago now felt exposed.

  Like the trees had leaned in.

  Bran scanned the treeline, hand hovering near his weapon.

  “Stay sharp. Something’s off.”

  Lira lifted her bow, sighting the spaces between branches.

  Tyren planted his spear, stance wide and set.

  Sera whispered a small barrier spell, a faint white shimmer forming around her.

  Joren stepped a bit closer to Bran without realizing it.

  The wind died completely.

  No rustling leaves.

  No chirping.

  Just a painted stillness.

  Then—

  A crack.

  A branch snapping under weight.

  Bran raised his fist.

  Hold.

  Joren’s heart hammered. The silence after the sound was worse than the sound itself — like whatever made it was listening for them.

  “Left side, thirty paces,” Lira whispered. “Something’s moving.”

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  Tyren’s jaw clenched.

  “You think it’s another scouting party?”

  “Maybe,” Bran said. “But that cold wind wasn’t from them.”

  Another crack. Closer.

  Followed by a low, feral growl — not wolf, not boar, nothing familiar.

  Bran stepped forward half a pace.

  “Ready—”

  A demon the size of a large dog lunged from the brush, body twisted with bony protrusions and glowing red cracks.

  Lira fired.

  The arrow buried itself in its eye. It dropped mid-leap.

  Before she could even breathe—

  Three more creatures burst out from the opposite side.

  “Brace!” Bran shouted.

  Tyren intercepted the first, spear plunging into its chest as it collided.

  Sera blasted the second with freezing mist, crystallizing its limbs. Bran shattered it with a single swing.

  The third demon sprinted straight at Joren.

  He hesitated — only for a second — then swung.

  The strike was clumsy, wild… but it connected, carving across its throat.

  Dark fumes hissed from its wounds as the demon collapsed.

  Joren stared, panting.

  “I… I got it…”

  “Good job,” Sera said quickly — but she didn’t smile.

  Because the forest wasn’t calming.

  If anything, the air felt worse.

  The trees seemed to vibrate. Shadows stretched strangely long. A deeper sound — a low, constant hum — seemed to pulse beneath everything.

  Bran narrowed his eyes.

  “That wasn’t it.”

  Lira’s gaze swept the treeline.

  “No… those felt like decoys.”

  Another rustle.

  Another thud.

  Heavy. Like something bigger was moving now.

  Tyren stepped closer to Bran despite himself.

  “You’re hearing that, right? That’s not small.”

  Sera’s grip on her staff tightened.

  “They’re surrounding us…”

  “Hold formation,” Bran ordered. “Nothing breaks the center.”

  Joren’s breathing sped up. Shadows flicked at the edge of his vision — too many to track.

  They weren’t attacking.

  They were circling. Judging.

  Predators that had already chosen the weakest link.

  And they were right.

  Something heavy landed just outside the firelight.

  A larger demon, hunched and deformed, purple-red cracks crawling across its shoulders like infected veins.

  Tyren cursed.

  “How many are there?”

  Bran didn’t answer.

  Because he didn’t know.

  The demon roared.

  And the others answered.

  A chorus of shrieks and growls rose around them.

  Joren felt the world tilt.

  This wasn’t a skirmish.

  This was the opening of a slaughter.

  Bran lifted his blade.

  “Defensive line — NOW!”

  The team tightened together as one.

  The fire between them flared—

  And the shadows leapt.