The sun had tilted toward the east. They had taken a short break by the roadside. Cornelo Forest was not yet directly before them, but on the horizon it rose like a dark stain. The mass of trees forming that shadowed wall seemed as if it had already noticed their approach and was waiting in silence.
The ground was dry. The wind was light. Yet there was a strange heaviness in the air.
Lane was kneeling, drawing a map on the ground. With small stones, branches, and charcoal marks, he was solidifying the plan. The villagers around him watched in a half circle.
Without lifting his head, he spoke.
"Everyone listen carefully…"
His tone was neither shouting nor soft. It was simply clear.
He took a deep breath. Then he pointed to a large circle he had drawn.
"The area I circled in green will be our focus. The outer line of Cornelo."
His finger slid to three separate points.
"We will split into three parts. I will be alone in the center. You will be on my right and left, waiting in ambush without being seen."
He pointed out the hiding spots one by one. The slope of the road. The rocky patch. The dense shrubs.
The villagers leaned in carefully. Some knelt. Some drove their weapons into the ground.
Lane continued.
"I will quickly move into the depths of the forest. I will make loud noises. I will draw the creatures toward me."
At that sentence, several faces tightened.
"And I will drive them toward you."
A short silence.
"You will kill them one by one from behind."
His words were simple but heavy.
"Remember… I will both make noise and poison them."
He lifted his eyes for a moment.
"Do not forget to take the antidote with the white mist."
His tone shifted on that sentence.
"Whoever forgets… dies."
The wind suddenly blew harder. Dry leaves scattered.
One of the villagers, a broad-shouldered middle-aged man with unease in his eyes, stepped forward.
"My lord… what if we cannot cut them down… and they leave you and attack us instead?"
The question split the air.
Everyone fell silent.
Lane slowly stood up. He looked into the man's eyes. He did not avoid him. He did not suppress him.
"Very good question."
His voice was calm.
"In that case, there will be a designated group in the rear."
He added a new mark to the drawing on the ground.
"We will make frightening sounds. We will scare the creatures so they change direction. We will prevent them from focusing on you."
"Our first priority will be to set the ambush. We will clear all the creatures. Then when their numbers are reduced, we will attack together."
He paused for a moment.
"If they attack you and the plan fails…"
The air grew even heavier.
"…the rear unit will intervene."
After a brief silence, he reached into his bag.
He opened it and took out small metal spheres. Forty of them.
Sunlight briefly flashed over their surfaces.
"These are highly flammable and deal massive damage."
He placed them on the ground one by one. Each sphere made a faint metallic sound as it touched the earth.
"If you are forced to use them, be careful. Choose your target clearly. Take the wind direction into account."
His gaze hardened.
"Absolutely…"
A short pause.
"…do not lose control."
The hands hovering over the spheres trembled. But no one stepped back.
"The plan will consist of three stages."
Lane looked around. Into each pair of eyes one by one.
"Is there anything unclear?"
This time his voice was louder. Sharper.
Everyone shouted in unison.
"Everything is understood!"
Their voices echoed in the dry air. They were determined… or at least they seemed to be.
An hour had passed since the plan was explained. The horses had rested somewhat. The foam had dried, their breathing had steadied. Lane gave one final glance around.
"Prepare."
One word.
It was enough.
The soldiers mounted their horses. Armor shifted with metallic murmurs. Leather straps tightened. No one spoke anymore.
Lane gathered the map from the ground. He looked at the charcoal markings for a brief moment. Then he carefully folded it, placed it in his bag, and tied the bag to the horse's saddle. He checked the strap twice.
Finally, he mounted his horse.
He paused for a moment.
Everyone was waiting for his command.
He slightly raised his hand.
"Move."
At that moment, disguised as the Holy Empire's army, they began moving like a caravan.
Scouts in front, the villagers and supplies in the center, spear-bearing soldiers on the sides. Sara and Gorn maintained the formation.
They traveled for three hours without stopping.
The sun was climbing toward its peak. It was nearing noon. The heat increased. The horses' breathing grew heavier. The villagers were exhausted. The children's faces were pale. The elders' shoulders sagged.
Sara noticed it.
But they could not stop.
This was a bandit crossing route.
This was the kind of place an ambush loved.
Sara shouted loudly:
"Everyone slow down! Stay prepared! There may be danger ahead!"
The caravan reduced speed. The sound of metal scraping was heard. Spears were raised. Swords were half drawn from their sheaths.
They had reached the very center of the forest.
The light diminished. Shadows stretched longer.
And then…
They saw the bones.
Human bones.
Animal bones.
Shattered skulls.
Rotten pieces of armor.
The village folk began whispering when they saw it. A woman covered her child's eyes. A man's hand trembled.
Gorn immediately noticed the situation. He gave Sara a brief look. He slightly lowered his head, signaling.
"Stay strong."
Sara clenched her jaw. Her eyes hardened.
The caravan passed through the bones.
The air grew heavy. The smell of rotting flesh still rose faintly from beneath the soil.
At last, they passed the most oppressive part of the forest.
Sara let out a quiet breath.
But that relief…
Lasted only a few seconds.
Because footsteps were heard among the trees.
Not one.
Many.
Twenty-three men.
They emerged from the shadows.
Torn cloaks. Dirty armor. Old scars on some faces. Hunger in others' eyes.
They blocked the road.
Without hesitation, Sara shouted:
"Everyone, battle positions!"
Village soldiers rushed forward. They aimed their spears at the bandits. Shields moved to the front. Children and civilians were pulled into the rear circle.
Gorn moved his horse slightly forward. His hand rested on the handle of his axe.
A man stepped out from among the bandits.
Tall. A diagonal scar across his shoulder. Eyes full of disdain.
With a mocking smile, he spoke:
"You are soldiers of the Holy Empire… though you don't quite look like it."
His gaze swept across the villagers, as if measuring their weakness.
Sara moved her horse forward. She drew her sword. The sound of steel echoed in the forest.
"You are currently obstructing a military caravan of the Holy Empire."
Her voice was clear. It did not tremble.
"Are you aware of what you are doing?"
The bandit leader slightly tilted his head.
He smiled.
And answered…
He gave a soft laugh.
"Why would the Holy Empire leave the main road and take such a dangerous path?"
The question was simple.
But clever.
Sara fell silent for a moment. She looked into the man's eyes. There was no fear there. There was curiosity. Calculation.
She thought:
This man is not stupid…
But she did not let it show.
"By blocking our path, you are committing a grave crime."
Her voice hardened.
"You must be tired of living."
The bandit leader shrugged.
"My name is Rack."
He slightly puffed out his chest.
"And my bandit unit already risks our lives to earn money."
The twenty-three men behind him smirked faintly.
Sara clenched her fist.
This man is cunning… I can't deceive him.
But she did not step back.
"If you are bold enough to ride out and block us…" Sara said.
"We are carrying something extremely important for the Empire. And you dare to stop us."
She slightly raised her sword.
"Do you think you will save your life by doing this?"
Rack thought for a moment. His eyes scanned the caravan. The armor. The villagers. The horses' cargo.
Sara caught that hesitation.
She pressed further.
"We are carrying something highly confidential."
Her voice rose.
"Why are you trying to block our path?"
Then she suddenly shouted:
"SOLDIERS! TAKE ATTACK POSITIONS IMMEDIATELY!"
The village soldiers reacted instantly. Spears extended forward. Shields locked. Footsteps shook the ground.
The tension surged.
Seeing this, Rack took two steps back. He raised his hands.
"Alright, alright… pass. We won't bother you."
But his eyes were still calculating.
Gorn rode his horse next to Sara.
He spoke in a low voice.
"If we let them go like this, they'll harass us again."
Without taking his eyes off the bandits, he continued:
"They're already suspicious. Let's bribe them. A little gold."
Sara thought briefly.
He was right.
She nodded slightly.
She called out to a soldier.
"Bring a pouch of gold."
The soldier quickly ran to the rear. Soon he returned with a small but heavy pouch.
Sara took it.
She rode her horse toward Rack.
The distance between them closed to two horse lengths.
She extended the pouch.
"This… is in return for your kindness."
Rack took the pouch. He felt its weight. The faint sound of gold clinked inside.
Sara extended her hand.
Rack hesitated for a moment but shook it.
At that exact moment—
Sara released her aura.
An invisible wave of pressure spread.
The air grew heavy.
Rack's shoulders sank. His breathing faltered for a moment. His eyes widened.
Sara leaned closer.
Her voice was low but as clear as death itself.
"If you ever repay my kindness with betrayal…"
The aura pressure intensified for a second longer.
"…I will kill you."
Rack swallowed.
"Alright… alright."
He stepped back.
He gestured to his men.
The twenty-three bandits retreated into the shadows from which they had come.
The forest fell silent again.
Sara took a deep breath.
Then she turned back and shouted:
"FORM UP! WE'RE MOVING!"
The caravan began moving again.
But no one was at ease.
Because now someone knew they were carrying something.
And that knowledge was more valuable than gold.
At the same time…
Lane and his unit were approaching Cornelo.
In the distance, the thick wall of interwoven trees was visible. Even sunlight could barely penetrate the forest's interior.
Lane watched silently from atop his horse.
His eyes narrowed.
"Slow down."
His voice was calm.
Everyone reduced their speed.
The sound of hooves grew heavier.
Cornelo Forest now stood before them.
And that darkness did not seem willing to return those who entered.
A short while later, Lane and his army had finally reached the forest. They waited at the entrance and began their preparations. After thirty minutes of readiness, Lane did not give an order to rest — instead, he ordered them to prepare for the assault.
Edwick approached and asked,
"Lane, I think it would be better if the soldiers rested."
Lane turned to him with a serious look.
"No. Now is the best time."
Edwick did not understand at all. The soldiers were exhausted. Why would Lane want to send tired men into battle? He could not fully make sense of it, but he had not lost his trust either.
He ran forward toward the formation and thought to himself,
"This man knows exactly what he's doing. It's better if I don't question him."
Lane ordered everyone to form up. The troops spread around the perimeter of the forest. It was evening. There was no one around the forest. The nearest village was Rey, located at the intersection between Solarin and the Holy Empire, but that village was considerably far from the forest. The forest was completely isolated.
Lane gave a hand signal, ordering them to set the forest perimeter on fire. Everyone carefully ignited the outer edges without allowing the flames to spread directly into the trees. About twenty percent of the forest's outer ring had been set ablaze, while sixty percent of the forest was bordered by a bay-like natural boundary.
Fifteen minutes after the fires were lit, crows suddenly burst into the sky from within the forest. Immediately after, the roars of creatures echoed from deep inside.
Lane prepared his horse and shouted,
"Exactly seven minutes after I enter, you will attack! Leave no living being alive — or you will be the ones who die!"
He spoke with absolute seriousness. Everything was proceeding according to Lane's plan.
Lane suddenly spurred his horse forward and charged into the forest. The horse galloped at full speed between the trees. As he ran, a poisonous mist spread behind him. Lane had personally ensured this poison was crafted carefully. The moment the mist came into contact with air, it spread rapidly in all directions and was extremely effective against Orcs.
Deep within the forest, Lane held his sword ready. He was still galloping at full speed — but the horse was nearing exhaustion.
Lane slowed the horse down.
The pounding hooves that had torn through the forest moments ago faded into silence. Even the iron fittings behind the saddle no longer made a sound.
The horse was finished.
Lane leapt off. Before his boots fully settled on the ground, the animal staggered. Its breath came in ragged gasps. Its chest rose and fell uncontrollably.
A second later, its legs gave out.
It collapsed.
Lane approached calmly and looked into the horse's eyes.
"Your duty is over."
There was no anger in his voice. No sympathy either.
Without hesitation, he drove his sword into the horse's heart.
Blood soaked into the soil.
Less than a minute later—
The ground began to tremble.
At first faintly.
Then violently.
Echoes rose from the depths of the forest.
Lane knew.
The plan had worked.
He had drawn nearly every creature in the forest toward himself.
With steady hands, he took the antidote. The white mist slid down his throat.
He raised his sword into a ready stance.
Position-wise, he was at the deepest core of the forest.
Then he saw them.
Orcs.
Massive, armored, grotesque bodies charging through the trees.
And above them—
A swarm of Harpies.
Their wings sliced through the air.
Lane narrowed his eyes.
It was time.
He raised his sword and unleashed a bolt of lightning straight into the sky.
The heavens cracked.
The thunder roared across the entire forest.
Hearing the signal, Edwick and his forces launched the first assault.
But Lane did not wait.
The moment he gave the signal, he gripped the Dragon Sword with both hands.
He activated the Fourth Technique.
In a calm yet lethal voice, he spoke:
"Dragon Sword… Fourth Technique… BLOODTHIRST."
He pulled his right foot back.
Anchored his stance.
His aura condensed, compressing around his entire body.
Then—
He executed a horizontal slash.
It was not an ordinary cut.
It was devastation given form.
He poured all of his aura into that single motion.
In an instant, trees were shredded apart.
Trunks split cleanly in half.
Most of the orcs were cleaved into two pieces in a single strike.
Blood, splintered wood, and torn flesh erupted into the air.
But it was not enough.
A massive Harpy swarm was descending from above.
And behind them, the remaining bulk of the Orc army was advancing.
Lane did not retreat.
He intensified his mana.
Activated his lightning fully.
A deafening surge of thunder exploded around him.
The air trembled.
The Harpies, being naturally attuned to lightning, suffered minimal damage.
But the Orcs—
They bore the brunt of it.
Many collapsed instantly.
Their muscles convulsed.
Armor cracked.
The stench of burned flesh filled the forest.
Then—
Lane heard it.
A horn.
A war horn.
His reaction was immediate.
He darted in the opposite direction of the sound and slid behind a thick tree trunk.
The Orcs and Harpies hesitated, confused.
What was that sound from behind?
A second later, they found out.
An arrow storm.
The sky darkened.
Harpies in mid-air were helpless.
Wings were pierced.
Screams tore through the air.
Orcs fell as arrows punched through armor gaps and buried into skulls and throats.
This—
Was the hidden unit described in the plan.
Relentless.
Fast.
Unceasing.
Arrows rained down in brutal rhythm.
At least five arrows embedded into the tree behind which Lane had taken cover.
The wood shuddered.
But Lane did not move.
His eyes were cold.
The plan had begun.
And Cornelo Forest was now trembling, burning, and reeking of blood.