The forest had gone still.Even the wind seemed to hide as the crew formed a half-circle around the strange woman. Their weapons glimmered faintly beneath the thinning light, and the air grew heavy with killing intent.
But instead of attacking, the woman simply sighed. With an elegant flick of her wrist, she waved her hand dismissively — a small, graceful motion that made the gesture seem almost... polite.
"I'm just passing through," she said softly, her tone calm and even. "No need to brandish weapons. I've no quarrel with you."
Her voice was oddly soothing, yet the crew didn't relax. They exchanged uneasy glances. The Captain , jaw tight, didn't lower his blade. Only when she turned to walk away, her cloak brushing against the grass, did he grunt and signal his men to stand down.
"Fine," he muttered. "Let her go. We've got our own business."
The men slowly sheathed their weapons, muttering among themselves. Relief began to creep back into their faces.
Then, from one of the sacks on the ground, came a muffled voice — desperate and raw.
"Help me! Please! These men are kidnapping me!"
Everyone froze. The crew turned in unison, eyes wide, as the sack began to shake violently.
"What in the—" one of them gasped, nearly dropping it.
Inside, Shawn had finally gathered enough strength to shout. His throat burned, his body ached, but his words came clear and strong. If this was the angel sent to save him, then so be it.
The woman stopped walking. Slowly, she turned her head toward the sound. Her eyes, calm moments ago, sharpened like glass.
"Captain," she said softly, "what was that?"
The Captain's expression barely changed. "A sentient beast," he replied smoothly. "We caught it earlier. Dangerous thing. Don't mind the noise."
Shawn shouted again — louder, more desperate this time.
"Help me! They're lying! I'm human!"
The woman's gaze lingered on the wriggling sack, then returned to the captain. She smiled faintly, but her tone turned icy."A sentient beast, you say? I didn't know beasts begged for mercy in human words."
Dothan's face hardened. "Men! Circle her! Don't let her move!"
Steel hissed as swords were drawn again. The forest seemed to shudder as the seven men surrounded her, weapons pointed inward.
The woman didn't flinch. She merely folded her hands and looked around the circle as if evaluating children about to perform a clumsy dance.
The Captain felt his instincts scream. "She's powerful," he warned. "Full strength — no holding back! Attack together, or you'll die alone!"
Then, with a roar, he raised his arm. A silver blade appeared in his grasp, its edge coated in earthy crystal. His Vitral flared — the ground cracked beneath him, and his skin darkened into hardened stone.
The Spindle Adepts charged first. Their strikes were sharp and fast, but before they even reached her, the woman tapped her staff against the ground.
The forest answered.
Thick vines erupted from the soil, snaking around ankles and wrists. One crewman swung his blade to cut free — but the moment his sword connected, the vine pulsed, glowing faintly. His own arm went numb.
"What—?!" he gasped, falling to his knees as his strength drained away.
The woman smiled, her eyes glowing faintly green. "It's only fair," she murmured. "If you bring harm, you should taste it too."
The next man lunged — and his strike landed, slicing her shoulder open. Blood splattered the ground.Then his scream echoed through the clearing.
The same wound bloomed on his own shoulder, identical in size and pain. He dropped his sword, clutching it in shock. "She—she gave it back!"
The captain growled, tightening his grip. "Keep fighting! She bleeds, she dies!"
"Correction," the woman said lightly. "I don't die easily."
She twirled her staff, and it became a blur. With each movement, vines coiled tighter around her attackers, draining their vitality. The men staggered, their strikes growing sluggish, eyes dimming as their life energy was siphoned away.
Every wound she took healed in moments, her skin mending as fast as the cuts appeared. The forest seemed to breathe with her, roots and leaves pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat.
The Captain charged, breaking through the entangling vines with brute strength. His hardened fists crashed against her staff with thunderous impact. The ground shook. The woman slid back slightly, her heels digging into the soil.
"Pattern Weaver, hmm?" she said, a flicker of respect in her tone. "At least this won't be boring."
He roared and stomped, sending a wave of earthen spikes surging toward her. She leapt, staff spinning mid-air, vines wrapping around her legs and swinging her gracefully aside. Her motion was fluid — elegant — almost like a dance.
The captain swung again, his silver blade cutting through vines. But the moment he struck, she touched her staff to the ground. His attack rebounded, the force redirected back into his own chest. He stumbled, coughing blood, as his hardened skin began to crack.
"Impossible!" he gasped.
"Your earth is solid," she said softly, stepping forward, "but even stone can crumble when the roots push through."
Her staff glowed, and the vines responded. They coiled around his legs, up his arms, until his weapon dropped from his hand. The light in his Vitral dimmed.
One by one, his men collapsed — drained, bound, or unconscious. The forest was silent again, save for the hum of energy still lingering around the woman.
When the last vine loosened, she exhaled slowly. Her wounds sealed completely, leaving no trace of battle.
The Captain, trembling on his knees, glared up weakly. "Who... are you?"
She gave a faint smile, tapping her staff once more. "Someone who doesn't appreciate liars."
Then she turned her gaze toward the sack on the ground.
The vines slithered toward it, carefully untying the ropes. As the fabric fell away, Shawn gasped softly, finally able to breathe freely. His sightless eyes blinked toward the faint sound of movement.
"You… saved me?" he asked weakly.
The woman knelt beside him. "No," she said gently. "I just corrected a mistake."
And with that, she helped him sit upright, as the forest slowly swallowed the defeated men into its shadows.