Dawn came slowly, filtering through the dense canopy of Redstone Forest like liquid gold. Mist hung low over the forest floor, curling around roots and rocks, hiding us from prying eyes.
I crouched on a fallen log, surveying the secondary outpost. The clearing was deceptively quiet. Ten Mystic Realm and ten True Spirit Realm cultivators moved in precise patrols, their aura faint but unmistakable. Dozens of lesser fighters shuffled about, seemingly unaware of the storm about to descend upon them.
"Formation Gamma," I whispered to Alex. "Talismans up. Silence active. Alpha team flanks left, Beta team right. We move on my mark."
The squad shifted into position with near-perfect discipline. Each soldier was a shadow, their weapons silent, their movements calculated. The training over the past year had forged them into an extension of our will.
Alex's hand traced a rune in the air, amplifying our stealth fields. I could feel the subtle vibrations of mana around the camp — the outpost cultivators were strong, but they were predictable.
I raised my hand. One… two… three.
The ambush began.
From the right flank, Beta team emerged, arrows coated with sedative venom flying silently through the mist. Three archers fell before they could even draw a breath. From the left, Alpha team closed in, cutting down sentries with swift, precise strikes.
I led the strike into the heart of the clearing. My dual-path mana flared along my arms, a subtle blue-white glow, enhancing speed and reflexes. A Mystic Realm guard swung his staff, but I intercepted, twisting his wrist and sending him tumbling into a rock. His spell fizzled harmlessly.
Alex moved like a shadow on the opposite side, his aura a deadly calm. He struck down a True Spirit Realm cultivator with a single, perfectly timed thrust to a pressure point. The man crumpled silently, leaving no sound, no warning.
The lower-tier fighters hesitated, then charged, their swords clashing against the squad's talisman-shielded weapons. Sparks flew as magic and steel collided. I directed the squad, weaving through combat with fluid grace.
"Take the right flank!" I shouted. "Push them toward the pitfall trap!"
Eight men responded immediately, driving the enemies into hidden pits lined with spikes and sigils Alex had prepared the night before. Two Mystic Realm fighters tried to intervene but found themselves isolated and overwhelmed.
I spun, deflecting a staff strike with a shield reinforced with mana threads. My elbow connected with the bandit's chest, sending him into a tree. Blood splattered the leaves, a stark reminder of the cost of stealth and precision.
Alex's voice rang out from the left: "Alaric, ten o'clock! Another Mystic Realm incoming!"
I pivoted, sensing the surge of power approaching. The enemy raised his staff, flames flickering at the tip. I channeled my dual-path mana into a defensive barrier, absorbing the blast without a scratch. The forest around us sizzled as the energy collided, but my squad pressed forward, cutting off his escape.
The battle raged for over ten minutes — precise, lethal, and exhausting. Every strike, every step had to be calculated. Sweat ran down my face, muscles burning, yet I felt alive in the chaos.
Finally, the last defender fell. The secondary outpost was ours. Silence returned to the clearing, broken only by the ragged breathing of our squad. Out of twenty-eight, three were heavily injured, ten lightly wounded — no fatalities.
I surveyed the battlefield, noting the subtle signs of their strength and weaknesses. The Mystic Realm cultivators had fought hard, but the coordination and strategic use of traps and talismans had turned the tide.
Alex walked beside me, checking the fallen enemy for any important documents or maps. "They have reinforcements posted near the main stronghold," he said. "At least twenty more cultivators. Sacred Lord and Cosmos Lord present."
I exhaled, letting the tension leave my body slowly. "Then tomorrow, we strike at the heart."
Before leaving, the squad collected the spoils — talismans, weapons, and a handful of beast cores from hunting exercises the bandits had attempted. Alex assigned a team to transport them back to our temporary base in the forest.
We spent the remainder of the day healing the wounded, checking traps, and quietly preparing for the next assault. The men were tired but exhilarated — their first taste of real battle.
That night, I stood at the edge of the clearing, looking toward the main stronghold shrouded in mist. The forest was alive with latent danger, yet the victory here gave me a moment of pride.
Alex stepped beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We're not invincible," he said quietly. "But we're ready."
I nodded, letting the adrenaline ebb. "We've shown them what we're capable of. Tomorrow, they'll learn that the Vardar brothers don't just arrive — we annihilate."
The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the faint scent of smoke and iron from the fallen outpost. And somewhere deep in the forest, the stronghold awaited — a storm we were only beginning to summon.