As evening shadows stretched long, the forest grew eerily still. Alyra's hand drifted to her quiver. "We're not alone," she said, voice low. Kael scanned the dim woods. Lyrus felt the tension coil in his muscles, senses sharpened.
A whisper of cloth, a gleam of metal—three masked cultivators emerged from behind mossy boulders. Their green robes bore unfamiliar sigils. "HellSin," one hissed, blade raised. "You've attracted the wrong attention."
No words were needed. Alyra loosed an arrow, deflecting a sword thrust aimed at her heart. Kael called out tactics, his voice calm amidst chaos. Lyrus surged forward, stepping into the nearest foe. Hellfire crackled around his fists, smashing through a jade-green flame conjured by the attacker's talisman.
The cultivator reeled, winded. Another lunged at Kael, thinking him weak, but Kael ducked behind a trunk, directing Alyra's aim. Her arrow struck true, forcing the foe back. Lyrus kicked a fallen branch, sending it spinning at the third opponent's legs. They stumbled, and a flaming uppercut ended their resistance.
Panting in the fading light, the trio stood triumphant. Whoever had sent these killers would learn soon enough—Lyrus HellSin and his allies wouldn't be so easily broken.