Cassia leaped back, putting several paces between herself and the woman in black. She moved to raise the blade she had just used to strike, only to feel her fingers close on empty air. Her hand was light, her palm bare.
"Looking for this?" the woman asked playfully. A small, knowing smile was etched into the visible portion of her veiled face.
A cold, hollow pit formed in Cassia's stomach. She hadn't felt a single movement—no shift in the air, no muscle twitch, no flicker of mana. It was as if the weapon had simply ceased to be hers and started being the stranger's.
The woman dangled the blade between two fingers before letting it levitate effortlessly above her palm.
The group stared in paralyzed silence. To the soldiers, the mage, and even the cleric, the woman was a void. They could see her and hear her, but their practiced senses insisted she wasn't there. There was no magical pressure, no killing intent—just a terrifying absence of presence.
"What sorcery is this?! What are you?!" the cleric yelled. He was drenched in a cold sweat, his voice cracking with the strain of facing something that defied every law of the divine he knew.
Cassia's stoic mask was finally beginning to crack. She prided herself on understanding the battlefield, but here, the rules had been discarded.
"I didn't think that my mere existence would cause such an effect on you mere mortals. I would like to apologize," the woman in black said. Her tone carried a playful edge, but beneath it lay a layer of absolute coldness and a flicker of disgust.
"My lord has asked me to receive you all. He deems you his guests, despite my own reluctance to acknowledge you as such."
The mention of a Lord gave Cassia a momentary anchor. If there was a leader, there was a hierarchy. She forced her voice to remain steady, though a slight tremor betrayed her. "And why should we listen to you?"
The woman tilted her head slightly, as though mildly amused by the question. For a brief, suspended heartbeat, nothing moved. Even the air seemed to hesitate.
"Because you would have been unmade before you ever set foot in this forest," she said calmly.
As her words settled, the shadows beneath two ancient trees rippled—not violently, but deliberately. Two massive hounds, carved from abyssal darkness, stepped into the gray light.
They did not breathe; they simply existed, growling with a sound like grinding stone dragged across bone. They moved behind the group with slow, inevitable steps, cutting off the path back. "If it were not for his whimsy," the woman finished.
Panic surged through the ranks. One soldier looked ready to faint, his knees buckling, while the others stood as pale as ghosts. They had fought monsters before, but these creatures felt like holes in reality given shape.
Cassia glared at the woman, her mind spinning through her remaining cards and finding them all blank. "How can we be sure our safety is guaranteed if we listen to you?" Cassia asked, her voice tight.
"That depends on how you act, mortal," the woman replied, her eyes gleaming with amusement.
Silence reclaimed the woods.
Cassia closed her eyes and took a slow, deliberate breath. For a moment, she stood perfectly still against the backdrop of the growling shadows.
"Why doesn't life ever go the way you want it to?" she muttered to herself.
She opened her eyes and looked directly at the veiled woman. "Lead the way."
The woman in black smiled. The levitating blade dropped toward her shadow, which rose like a dark pool to swallow the steel whole. The group flinched as the weapon vanished.
"I'll be returning your blade later," the woman said, turning her back to them with terrifying confidence. "Follow me."
"L-lady Ghast," the mage yelped, her knees still trembling as the shadow hounds prowled behind them. Their massive forms were sculpted from abyssal darkness, edges wavering like smoke — and within their skull-like faces burned twin neon-purple eyes, cold and unwavering. "I-I'm not sure this is a good idea. We don't even know what she is."
The woman in black did not turn, but the subtle tilt of her veiled head suggested quiet amusement. A faint glimmer of neon-purple shimmered beneath the shadow of her veil, watching them without blinking.
Cassia did not look back at her subordinate.
"I didn't ask for your opinion," she said, her voice cutting through the damp forest air like honed steel.
The bluntness struck harder than a slap. The mage flinched, immediately lowering her gaze as the protest died in her throat.
The hounds shifted. Low growls rolled from their chests — not loud, not aggressive — but heavy, like stones grinding together deep beneath the earth. Their neon eyes flickered once, synchronously, casting brief violet reflections across the pale faces of the soldiers.
Sensing the suffocating tension threatening to splinter the group, Cassia straightened her spine and turned just enough for them to see her expression — calm, unyielding, deliberate.
"If any of you know a way out of this predicament," she stated bluntly, "I'm more than welcome to hear it."
Silence. No rustle of leaves. No wind. No answer.
The soldiers stared at the ground. One swallowed audibly. The mage bit her lip, her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles blanched white.
There was no alternative. There never had been.
After a heavy, suffocating pause, the ranger spat onto the soil and adjusted his quiver with a sharp jerk of motion. "Let's follow the leader's decision," he barked, his rough accent ground out through gritted teeth.
"If y'all can't fess up a better solution, I suggest ya keep yer mouths shut!"
The cleric stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on the mage's shoulder. His palm trembled — only slightly. "Come, lass," he said softly. "Let us trust Lady Ghast's decision. I firmly believe she won't lead us astray."
Even as he spoke, his eyes flicked toward the woman in black — and for the briefest moment, he saw it clearly. Neon-purple. Not glowing brightly. Not flaring. Simply present. Watching.
The mage drew a shaky breath and forced her feet to move. She returned to her position behind Cassia, her resolve brittle but holding together through sheer will.
Watching the small mortal drama unfold, the woman in black seemed to find the spectacle quietly entertaining. A faint ripple moved along the hem of her dark garments, as though shadows themselves responded to her amusement.
Cassia turned her full attention back to the veiled figure, refusing to offer even a fraction more weakness. "Lead the way," she repeated firmly.
The woman gave a soft, melodic laugh. "I thought you'd never ask," she replied playfully.
She turned slowly, deliberately, to face them one final time. As she did, the forest seemed to dim around her — not from shadow, but from comparison. The neon-purple glow beneath her veil intensified just enough to be unmistakable.
For a fleeting second, every member of the group felt the same terrible realization: They were not looking at a creature born of this world.
"Oh," the woman said lightly, as if remembering something trivial. "Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself."
The shadow hounds stepped forward in unison, their massive forms flanking her like silent sentinels, their violet eyes burning brighter in the gray gloom.
She inclined her head with impossible grace.
"My name…"
The forest held its breath.
"...is Lunara."