Time passed on, the sun had set, leaving only the faint glow of a crest moon to light the way. However, the moonlight owerless against the dense opy of the Forbidden Forest. Beh the trees, the world was cloaked iotal darkness, filled only with the smells of decay, damp leaves, and the occasional pu hint of animal excrement. The eerie wind carried hoarse bird calls and strange whispers, lending the forest an atmosphere of oppressive loneliness.

  Despite the unnerving enviro, Alex moved with remarkable speed, weaving through trees and leaping over obstacles without breaking stride. Stones, roots, and uneven ground posed no challeo him as he silently navigated the treacherous terrain.

  Wimzy, oher hand, was anything but calm. Pressed under Alex’s arm, she squirmed and g to his robes as the wind whipped against her face. Her wide eyes darted nervously, catg fleeting glimpses of glowing shapes in the darkness. “Master! It’s so scary! There are… there are ghosts watg us!” Wimzy whimpered, her voice trembling with fear.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Alex muttered sharply. “What you’re seeing are the eyes of night owls. Now stop talking. You’ll give away our position.”

  “Y-yes, Master,” Wimzy stammered, g her hands over her mouth to stifle any further sounds.

  Relying on his echo spell and trag magic, Alex pursued the werewolves relentlessly. The air was thick with the acrid tang of blood, and the footprints on the forest floor were fresh and unmistakable. He was closing in. To avoid dete, Alex refrained from using any light spells, activating the silent module of his ented phase shoes instead. Now, his movements were ghost-like—silent and invisible in the forest’s gloom.

  After over an hour of this grueling chase, c at least ten kilometers, Alex finally spotted his targets. He came to an abrupt halt, causing Wimzy to lurch slightly. The sudden stop left her dizzy, her small head spinning from the abrupt ge in momentum. “Master?” Wimzy whispered cautiously.

  “Shh,” Alex hissed, pressing a fio his lips. Gently pg Wimzy on the ground, Alex reached into his robes, sliding his fingers along a hidden seam. He pulled his index and middle fiogether, trag a line down the fabric.

  A faint magical shimmer rippled across his cloak, spreading from his nee to the hem. The ented robe, now activated, emitted a soft glow before vanishing into the darkness. Only faint, intricate patterns remained visible, flickering momentarily before fading. “Wimzy, you speak now,” Alex said in a hushed tone. “But stay close to me—within a meter. Otherwise, the werewolves’ noses and hearing might pick you up.”

  “Yes, Master,” Wimzy nodded, her small hands csped nervously. She looked at him curiously. “But, Master… where did you just go?”

  Alex smiled faintly aured to his robe. “This is a Shadowveil. It blocks sound and st within a meter and casts a disillusio charm. With this, they won’t notice us.”

  “imzy’s eyes sparkled with awe. “Master is amazing! Wimzy has never seen such a magical treasure, even from the old master.”

  “It’s not as impressive as it sounds,” Alex replied modestly. “The invisibility doesn’t st as long as the Invisibility Cloak, but it’s useful as long as the illusion spell is refreshed regurly.” He handed Wimzy a piece of jerky from his pocket. “Here, eat this. We’ll need our strength.”

  Wimzy hesitated, holding the jerky gingerly. “Master… is this meat? Wimzy doesn’t deserve to eat meat. Wimzy only ate meat once a year with the old master…”

  “Stop talking nonsense a,” Alex said, his tone firm but not unkind. “You’ll need energy for what’s ing.”

  “Yes, Master. Thank you, Master!” Wimzy’s eyes filled with tears of gratitude as she bit into the jerky, sav the rare treat.

  Alex used the brief pause to activate his echo spell, fog on the sounds ahead. The air was filled with guttural growls and faint snapping sounds. The distinct stench of the werewolves had grown stronger, even without the trag spell. After quickly finishing his own portion of jerky, Alex picked Wimzy up again a onto the ree trunk. His movements were swift and precise, sg the trunk as easily as walking on ft ground.

  At a suffit height, he kicked off a to the ree, repeating the process until he reached a vantage point. From this height, he could hear the chaos ahead more clearly. About thirty meters away, the unmistakable sounds of werewolves growling aaurs firing their bows broke through the forest’s eerie silence. “It sounds like they’ve engaged,” Alex muttered, pg Wimzy down on a sturdy branch.

  Through the thick branches and the darkness of the night, he could make out faint movements but couldn’t dis any clear details. “Wimzy,” Alex whispered, keeping his voice low. “ you see the wizard who attacked your master?”

  “No, Master,” Wimzy whispered, shaking her head in frustration. “It’s too dark, and the trees are blog my view. I’m sorry… Is Wimzy very useless?”

  “You are not allowed to say such things,” Alex said sternly, fixing her with a firm gaze. Without another word, he picked her up again. “We’ll move closer. Be careful not to make any noise.” He leapt forward, deftly moving through the trees with silent precision. After advang a few dozeers, he nded on a branch high above the ground, where the view was much clearer.

  Ahead, the battle unfolded in a low-lying clearing. The first sight that caught Alex’s eye was the group of taurs, their torchlight revealing their t forms. They were imposing, standing on average about three meters tall. Among them, Alex ted seven ht taurs, but three were smaller, g the beards of the adults. Clearly, they were underage.

  The taurs were backed against a rocky highnd that rose three to four meters. Fallerunks littered the path behind them, creating an improvised barricade and leaving them effectively ered. Alex and Wimzy had nded on a tree overlooking this rocky area, their position a near-perfect vantage point.

  On the opposite side of the clearing, a pack of werewolves stood in their full wolf forms, their feral eyes gleaming in the dim torchlight. At their ter was a figure Alex immediately identified as the werewolf wizard—a hulking man with thick, matted bck hair and unnaturally long fangs.

  The taurs had formed a defensive line against the werewolves. Five adults stood at the front, their muscur arms gripping long spears, while the three younger taurs held bows in the back row. The archers had their bows drawn, arrows taut against the strings, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

  The werewolves, however, didn’t charge recklessly. They seemed to uand the danger posed by the taurs’ bows and arrows. Many of them bore broken arrows lodged in their bodies, and blood sptters dotted the grouweewo groups.

  Yet the taurs were clearly struggling as well. Their breaths were bored, and their once-proud stances were marred by exhaustion and wounds. Oaur, in particur, seemed on the verge of colpse, his hands trembling as he tried to steady his b.

  The werewolves had ered the taurs cleverly, using the terrain to their advahe taurs’ natural speed was their greatest asset, but in this fined space, their ability to run was nullified.

  Alex observed the situation carefully. The werewolves aaurs had clearly cshed multiple times, leaving both sides injured. However, the werewolves’ innate healing abilities gave them the upper hand. Alex watched as one werewolf pulled an arrow from its shoulder, the wound already beginning to close.