The forest was a labyrinth of shadows and broken silence. Jiya's group stumbled through dense undergrowth, hearts pounding from the sudden ambush that had torn them from Aditya and the others. The orc mage's illusions twisted the battlefield; familiar paths dissolved into a maze of ghostly shapes and warped horizons.Jiya tightened her grip on her sword, a faint hum of aura running along its sharp edge. Her eyes flicked over the faces around her—tired, bloodied, but unbroken. This was no longer just a band of guild warriors; some were villagers, worn by grief but hardened by desperate resolve."Stay close," Jiya commanded, voice steady and resolute. "The orcs want us scattered. Don't give them the chance."A young warrior gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "Miss Jiya, if even Aditya couldn't stop them, what chance do we have?"Jiya's gaze cut through his doubt. "Father is strong, but strength alone doesn't win battles. Discipline does. Trust yourself. Trust those beside you. That's how we survive."Her words wrapped the group in a blanket of resolve. Postures straightened; breaths slowed. And though the weight of responsibility pressed like a blade, Jiya embraced it fully. She wasn't the oldest, or strongest—but in this fractured moment, she was the beacon.Hours bled into one another as they delved deeper into the disaster zone, guided by Jiya's instinct and faint patches of aura left in the air. The forest breathed around them—branches shifting, whispers carried with every breeze, shadows flickering where no one stood. The mage's illusions persisted, weaving a net of unreality."Stay sharp," Jiya whispered, senses on edge.Suddenly, savage war cries exploded from the treetops. Enhanced orcs, runes blazing fiercely on their blades, dropped between the leaves and branches. These were no mere scouts—their movements spoke of coordination and experience."Formation!" Jiya called, stepping forward. Her sword blazed with pure aura, the air crackling as energy surged along its edge. One swing cleaved through the air, cutting down an orc before it even landed.Those nearby gasped. This was no mere swordplay: Jiya wielded pure aura, striking faster, deeper, cleaner than any blade. But each blow drained her, energy flickering like a fragile flame in a storm.The battle was merciless. Two villagers fell with screams swallowed instantly by the forest's shadows. The rest fought with desperate fury, but fear crept in between steel clashes.Jiya's mind once screamed: We can't hold. If I fall—everything breaks.Summoning every last ounce of strength, her aura flared brighter. Each swing became shield, every step a command. Steadily, she drove the group forward—not just leading, but becoming their shield."Left flank—push!" she shouted. "Strike their joints! You are warriors—not prey!"The villagers roared, fury ignited. The orcs faltered, stunned by newfound unity.Bloodied and trembling, Jiya stood amid the clearing. Her sword dripped orcish ichor; her aura glimmered faintly still. Survivors looked at her differently now—not just as Aditya's ally, but a leader born by trial.The forest quieted once more—but its silence was ominous. Jiya exhaled, sweat running down her brow.Her thoughts fled briefly to home—to the sister who waited, to the fear she dared not show. That fear cracked open, hardening into cold resolve.She sheathed her sword slowly and surveyed her group. "Keep moving," she said with steady voice. "We will not fall here."Though the forest whispered unseen threats, that single command was weight enough to keep them standing.