The forest fell silent for a brief moment after Jevon's body was flung into the trees, his scream cut short by the cracking of bark and the dull thud of impact. Leaves floated down like feathers, disturbed birds took to the sky, and a gust of tension swept through the group like a chill wind. The Black Steel Guron stood tall once more, eyes burning with a cunning malice. Its body, laced with shimmering black metallic strands, reflected the scattered sunlight like obsidian needles.
Tergil, eyes wide and jaw clenched, turned sharply to Luke and Persin.
"Do something! Block it—block that damned beast!" he barked, voice laced with panic and authority.
Luke didn't move. Instead, he turned his head slightly, gaze cool as he regarded Tergil. "He's still alive, but we need a plan. Rushing in—"
Tergil cut him off, striding toward him with anger brimming beneath his composed façade. The noble drew his sword and thrust it forward, the tip stopping just short of Luke's throat. "Don't try to play commander here, commoner. You've done nothing while Jevon fought."
Luke's eyes narrowed slightly. His tone remained calm, almost indifferent. 'I wasn't going to get involved… but to draw a sword on me?' His hand slowly began to rise toward the blade.
Just as Luke's fingers brushed against the handle, a commanding voice cut through the tension.
"This isn't the time for us to fight amongst ourselves!"
It was Princess Felior.
Her voice rang clear, neither shrill nor shaky. Her back was straight, her hand resting near the hilt of her own blade, yet she hadn't drawn it. Her vibrant red hair flowed behind her in the breeze, and her eyes, though composed, held a storm beneath.
Luke blinked, studying her carefully.
'She's not scared?' he thought. 'Or… could she have something to depend on?'
But Felior's calmness was a mask, carefully sculpted. Beneath it, her thoughts stirred like whirlwinds.
I'm terrified... But if I show fear, the others might falter. I was born to lead—to inspire. If I break now, everything behind me will collapse.
Taking a breath to steady her pulse, she took a step forward and began issuing commands like a seasoned tactician.
"You there," she said without hesitation, eyes fixed on Luke. "Distract the Guron. Keep its attention on you, but don't engage directly. Just give it something to focus on."
Luke was almost impressed, but said nothing. 'At least Remember my name' Luke thought
"Persin," Felior continued, her tone sharp now, "go check on Jevon. Make sure he's breathing—if he's not, try to stabilize him. We'll need every sword we can keep upright."
Persin gave a short nod. "Got it"
"And Tergil," she added, turning her gaze on the noble still pointing his blade at Luke, "you're with me. We'll take the Guron from the side while he draws its eyes forward."
Tergil looked at Luke Begrudgingly, but then his gaze flicked to the Guron, which had begun thumping its chest again, snarling lowly at the humans who dared challenge it. Reluctantly, Tergil withdrew his blade from Luke's face and gave a curt nod.
"Yes, Your Highness"
With the roles set, they split.
Luke moved first. He leapt lightly to the side, picking up a stone and hurling it at the beast. The stone pinged harmlessly off the Guron's armored hide, but it worked—the creature's burning eyes locked on him with renewed targeting.
"Come on! Try me," Luke muttered, stepping back fluidly as the Guron charged him with a bellowing roar.
The ground quaked with every step of the beast, its huge arms swinging like sledgehammers. Luke danced back, leading it in a wide arc through the clearing, drawing its bulk away from the others.
Meanwhile, Persin rushed toward the spot where Jevon had been thrown. The noble boy lay crumpled, his armor cracked, blood trailing from his mouth. But his chest rose, shallow but steady.
"Still alive," Persin muttered, inspecting the damage. "Any harder and he'd be mulch."
He began bandaging Jevon's torso quickly, keeping an eye on the fight nearby.
Felior and Tergil moved in perfect silence, circling around the Guron's flank. The Princess drew her blade at last—slender and gleaming with a faint enchantment—and nodded once to Tergil.
"On my mark," she whispered.
Luke ducked another massive swing and rolled to the side. "Now would be a good time!" he shouted.
Felior launched forward.
Tergil followed, slashing upward at the creature's side. His sword bit into the gaps between the steel strands of fur, drawing black ichor that hissed upon contact with the air. The Guron howled, twisting toward the new attackers.
But Felior was already moving. She darted beneath the beast's arm and slashed across its chest with practiced precision. Sparks flew where her blade met the metallic strands, but it cut deeper than expected, leaving a long, bleeding gash.
The beast reeled.
Luke rushed forward now too, slashing at its leg to bring it down.'Better to go along with what their doing'Luke thought
Between the three of them, their strikes flowed like a violent storm—each blow a crack of thunder, each movement a flash of lightning. Distraction, precision, and relentless pressure fell upon the Black Steel Guron. Its cunning mind, formidable as it was, couldn't keep up with the fluid coordination of the trio. They attacked in perfect rhythm, leaving it no room to retaliate effectively.
Sensing the tides of battle had turned against it, the Black Steel Guron's eyes darted with primal calculation. With a guttural snarl, it crouched low—then leapt.
The beast soared through the air, landing heavily on the thick, sturdy branch of a nearby tree. Bark cracked beneath its weight, but the branch held. Without hesitation, it sprang again, vanishing into the dense canopy, leaping from limb to limb like a phantom of iron and fury.
A heavy silence fell over the clearing, broken only by the distant rustle of branches far above.
"Well, damn," Persin muttered, calm as ever, strolling forward with a hand resting on the hilt of his blade. He peered up into the canopy, then surveyed the group's condition. "It got away."
The moment of quiet was abruptly shattered.
"This was the fault of that commoner for failing to keep its attention!" Tergil barked furiously, storming over toward Luke, eyes aflame with indignation.
Luke's gaze remained level, impassive. He said nothing, shoulders relaxed despite the accusation. He had been willing to step aside before—but a sword drawn, or a finger pointed unjustly, those were different matters. He kept his cool, but the look in his eyes was far from passive.
Before the tension could ignite again, Princess Felior stepped forward, her crimson hair catching the sunlight in vivid strands. Her voice, though firm, held the quiet strength of command.
"Enough," she said. "It's already a miracle we're all alive. The most important concern now is not blame—but how we're going to continue with Jevon injured."
"I'm not too sure about that"Persin said to himself
"Why do you think so?"Luke asked Persin as he heard the low tone
"Gurons always keep Grudges, It won't be long before we see him again"Persin said