Three massive orcs stomped into the room. Their roars bounced off the metal walls, echoing loudly. Their eyes glowed red in the dim light, and their sharp fangs gleamed beneath the flickering lamps.
In the middle of the room, Nimora stood ready. Two slim daggers gripped tight in her hands. She looked calm, even though her shadow trembled with the flickering neon light. She might be a healer now, but her sister—Valtiria—had once trained her to be an Assassin. Tonight, she dared to return to that path, facing monsters like these.
The first orc lunged forward, his massive axe swinging, smashing through an iron table in its path. Dust and glass shards flew everywhere. But Nimora's body vanished a split second before the axe struck the ground.
In a blink, she reappeared behind him. Her cold dagger slid in, piercing his spine with deadly precision. The orc let out a guttural scream before collapsing onto the metal floor with a loud crash.
Before the second orc could even react, Nimora was already moving. His giant sword cut through the air, striking the wall and sparking fire. Nimora bent low, dashed forward, and drove her blade straight into his chest, muttering, "Deadly stab!"
Only one orc remained. This one was even bigger, his body covered in old scars, his eyes burning wild. He slammed into a table, hurling glass tubes that shattered everywhere, then raised his double axe with a deafening roar.
The fight grew fiercer. The tight space made Nimora's movements both more dangerous and more thrilling. She weaved between shattered tables, leaping over dangling wires, while the orc's axe tore apart everything in its path. Sparks burst as steel clashed against old metal.
The lab filled with clanging steel, furious roars, and shattering glass. Nimora's breaths grew heavier, but her gaze stayed sharp. After several minutes of clashing, she leapt back, standing tall in the center of the room. She crossed her daggers over her chest.
Dark energy began to seep out. Shadows on the floor twisted wildly in the flickering light. A cold wind swirled, lifting shards of glass into the air.
In a low voice that echoed through the metal walls, Nimora whispered,
"Dagger Dance."
Her body vanished, then reappeared in a blur of death. Daggers spun in a deadly rhythm, leaving silver flashes in the air. The orc roared, trying to block, but every side of his body was struck by the storm of blades. Blood sprayed across the lab walls, splattered on shattered glass, and painted the floor red.
With one final thrust through his throat, Nimora leapt back. The orc stood frozen for a moment, eyes blank, then collapsed onto an iron table that shattered beneath him.
Meanwhile, Rowan could only stare, frozen in shock. He had no idea Nimora could fight like that. Just then, Rylan stirred awake.
"Nim, how… how did you do that? I—I thought you were just a healer," Rowan asked as Nimora approached them.
"My sister taught me when I was little. She only gave me theory and never let me hold a real blade back then. But she told me daggers were simple to use and would suit me best. And she was right. I actually enjoy fighting with just these two daggers—no matter how big my enemy is," Nimora replied.
They left the ruined lab. Once outside, Nimora was taken aback to find herself in a forest, the night dimly lit by a silver moon.
"Wait… where are we? It was daylight above ground. Why is there a moon here?" she asked.
Rylan explained that they were now in Shadowfell, an underground civilization once cut off from the world. The moon above was nothing but an illusion, created with magic to make it look like a real sky. But they could never replicate the sun. Shadowfell lived in endless night—no dawn, no day.
Through the thick trees, a towering structure rose in the distance: the Shadowfell Castle, now ruled by Lilith Morwen.
"By the way," Rowan glanced at Nimora, "if things go bad again, you'll protect me this time, right?"
"I'll try my best. But pulling off what I just did… that's not something I can promise," Nimora said.
"Why not?" Rowan frowned.
"Because I honestly don't even remember how I did all that with those three orcs," Nimora admitted.
"What do you mean? Didn't you say your sister taught you to fight?"
"I can't explain it now. But for now, just know this—I'll be the best healer I can be for you both," she said firmly.
Nimora kept her secret close, still unable to fully trust her new companions, despite how far they had come together.
Rowan and Rylan understood. They didn't press her. Silence fell between them, broken only by the wind and the crunch of dry leaves underfoot.
Suddenly, something rustled in the bushes nearby. They froze, weapons at the ready.
"WATCH OUT!" Rylan shouted, shoving Nimora aside as they both tumbled. An arrow whizzed past where Nimora had just been standing.
Rowan felt eyes watching from the shadows. A second later, arrows rained down around him.
"Echo Guard!" he muttered, quickly raising his violin.
A rippling shield of sound formed, blocking the incoming arrows.
But another wave of sonic force struck from nowhere, hammering against his shield again and again, until Rowan could barely hold it up.
"Feel this, intruders!" a voice snarled.
A pair of axes swung down at Rowan—only to be stopped by Rylan's sword.
Before them stood a terrifying woman, wielding two axes, her presence as fierce as her aura.
The woman—still unknown to them—lunged forward with ferocious speed. Rylan stepped up, shielding the other two.
"Resonance Slash!" Rowan called out, sending a blade of sound toward her. But once again, a wave of sonic energy deflected his attack.
"Your fight's with me, kid—not him. Let's see whose music is deadlier," sneered the woman dressed in black, holding a glowing green harp that pulsed with her magic.