Two years passed since the night the Echoes came.
The world hadn't grown kinder—but Lyra and Seren had grown stronger.
The forest road stretched ahead in a winding green tunnel, sunlight filtering through the branches in soft beams. Birds chirped overhead, unaware or uncaring of the dangers lurking deeper in the woods.
Behind Lyra, a decorated carriage rolled slowly along the dirt path, pulled by two white-maned horses. Royal symbols gleamed on its sides.
Inside sat the empire's princess.
Lyra walked ahead of the carriage, spear in hand, eyes sharp. Seren walked beside the left wheel, her hands lightly glowing with residual mana—just enough to act if anything went wrong.
They had trained for two years to keep a vow they made on a burning hillside:
Never be powerless again.
And today, the empire trusted them to guard royalty.
Seren tugged at her gloves. "Sis… you think this escort is really dangerous?"
"Every escort is dangerous," Lyra replied. "Especially through this forest. Goblins like attacking caravans."
A rustle came from the bushes.
Lyra stopped instantly. Her heart tightened.
There it was again—two, three bushes shaking.
"Seren," she said softly, tightening her grip on her spear, "stay close."
A small green face poked out from the underbrush, baring sharp teeth.
"A goblin!" Lyra called out. "Everyone, be ready—one means more!"
Her voice cut through the air like an alarm. The guards around the carriage raised their shields and pulled weapons free.
But it was already too late.
Dozens of goblins poured out of the forest like a wave of screeching vermin—climbing trees, swarming from the sides, dropping from branches, arrows ready.
"The goblins have surrounded us!" a guard shouted.
An arrow whistled.
Before anyone could react, it buried itself in the guard's forehead. He dropped without a sound.
The princess screamed inside the carriage.
"Protect the princess!" the knight captain roared. "Seren—barrier magic! Lyra, vanguard position! Hold the front!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Yes, Captain!"
Seren raised trembling hands. A dome of shimmering light burst outward from her palms, forming a faint but steady barrier around the carriage. Sweat already formed at her temples—she wasn't the same helpless girl from before, but barrier magic drained her quickly.
Lyra leapt forward, meeting the first goblin with a fierce strike. Her spear pierced through its chest, and she yanked it free just in time to deflect a crude blade swinging toward her.
Blood sprayed. Goblins snarled and shrieked.
The guards fought bravely, but goblins were everywhere—climbing onto the carriage roof, hacking at the barrier, firing arrows from the trees.
One guard fell.
Then another.
And another.
Seren's barrier flickered each time a blow landed—it wouldn't hold for long.
Lyra gritted her teeth and pushed harder, slashing, blocking, kicking, spinning her weapon in movements sharpened from two years of training. But no matter how many goblins she cut down, more kept coming.
The captain shouted, "Hold the line! WE MUST HOLD THE—"
An arrow struck him in the shoulder, making him stumble.
It was chaos. Blood stained the wagon wheels. Screams mixed with goblin screeches.
They were losing.
Then, without warning, a blur moved through the battlefield.
A hooded figure stepped out from behind a tree, expression hidden beneath shadow. A thin, curved scar cut across his upper lip. In his hand was a short knife—nothing ornate, nothing magical…
Yet it sliced through goblins like they were paper.
His movements were inhumanly precise—silent, fluid, deadly. One moment he was at the edge of the fight, the next he was behind a goblin leader, severing its spine in a single cut. Every strike found a throat, a heart, a weak point.
Seren stared with wide, exhausted eyes.
"Sis… who is that?"
Lyra couldn't answer. She was too busy fighting—but even she felt a chill watching the stranger.
No ordinary adventurer moved like that.
Within minutes, the tide of the battle shifted. Goblins began to flee, screeching in panic as the hooded man cut down their leaders.
The forest went quiet.
Only five people remained standing:
The princess, trembling.
The wounded knight captain.
Lyra, panting with her spear dragging.
Seren, collapsed against the carriage with her mana nearly drained.
And the hooded stranger, wiping goblin blood off his knife.
Lyra staggered toward him. "T-Thank you… for helping us." She pressed a hand to her ribs, trying to steady her breath. "If you hadn't come when you did…"
The man didn't answer. He seemed to be examining the blade of his knife rather than acknowledging her.
Seren forced herself up, leaning against the wagon. "You saved us… thank you."
After confirming the princess was unharmed, the knight captain allowed her out of the carriage. She approached the three of them, eyes filled with gratitude and lingering fear.
"Lyra, Seren," she said softly, "you fought bravely. I am grateful for your service."
Then she turned to the hooded man.
"And you… stranger. You have my thanks as well. If not for you, I fear none of us would be alive."
The man dipped his head slightly. "You were surrounded. Thought you could use help."
Lyra frowned. Something about his calmness unsettled her.
She stepped closer.
"What's your name?"
The hooded man paused for a moment—as if thinking. As if searching.
Then he said quietly:
"…It's Kae."
Lyra repeated the name under her breath.
"Kae…"
Something about it felt… unusual.
Maybe it was the way he said it.
Or the way he didn't seem sure of it.