Yura, Yue-liang, and Thyme sat together, savoring the root porridge served in crooked clay bowls crafted by the old man. Milo, the faithful wolf, also joined them in the cave, wrestling with a large bone he had brought from somewhere. Despite his tenacious grip and a paw firmly planted on the stubborn object, he struggled to break it.

Abruptly, he dropped the bone and darted out of the cave, followed by a series of resounding barks that echoed through the air.

Thyme set down his bowl and made his way outside to investigate.

The sun began its descent, casting a soft, dim light over the meadow as it peeked through the tree line. The old man's gaze aligned with Milo's intense stare fixated on a particular direction.

"Go back to the cave," Thyme instructed.

"Woof!" The wolf objected.

"No, keep them safe," Thyme insisted as he slowly stepped forward. „It appears I failed, so it should be me who now fixes the mistake.”

Deep within the forest, he could discern shapes moving among the trees. Their numbers grew, resembling a swarm of ants charging toward a formidable foe. It became evident that the empire's soldiers somehow had discovered their location.

They emerged—dozens of footmen, with more lurking behind the cover of the trees. Twenty or so mounted riders split into two groups, positioning themselves on either flank.

The troops suddenly parted, creating a path for two men to pass. One, in his thirties, strode forward, while the other, older, halted after a few steps. The younger man approached the old sage, but only to the point that they could exchange words without shouting.

"Greetings, elder," Shinrou Rokuro initiated the conversation.

„What an unusual view,” Thyme responded putting on the most gentle smile he could muster. „Never did an army come to my forest before.”

"We seek traitors who have fled to this forest. A young man and a young woman. Have you perhaps  seen them?" Shinrou inquired, though his gaze drifted toward the direction Milo had disappeared.

"It's just me and my trustworthy companion here, so I'm afraid I don't know of any people you are referring to. The forest is vast, so they may be hiding somewhere," the old man nodded as he spoke.

"Do you mind if we search this area?" the captain asked, glancing back at the troops lined up behind him.

"You are welcome to search the entire forest. I have no objections," Thyme replied.

Shinrou Rokuro's gaze swiftly returned to the old man. "I didn't mean the forest. I meant this place," he clarified, pointing behind Thyme with his finger.

"This is my home, so I must decline your request. I can assure you, there is nothing of value here. Just an old cauldron, a frying pan, some clay pottery I've crafted myself, and herbs I gather in the forest from time to time. There is nothing worth seeing," the old man shrugged, concluding his words.

"I’m afraid I cannot accept that answer, elder. I have been entrusted by the Emperor himself to find the traitors, and I will leave no stone unturned," the captain stated before turning back to his troops.

Thyme observed him closely until he disappeared behind the line of soldiers, accompanied by the other man who had stepped forward—Yasu.

"Advance!" Shortly after the command was issued, the troops began moving forward, slowly but steadily.

The old man's expression changed as he witnessed this. The smile vanished, replaced by a serious countenance. He closed his eyes, attuning himself to the magic swirling in the air, permeating the earth beneath his feet, and emanating from every plant in the meadow. Raising his hand, he beckoned the power closer, manipulating it with a dance-like motion of his fingers.

"Charge!" A resounding order reverberated in the vicinity.

The cavalry urged their horses into a full sprint, while the footmen ran forward with battle cries on their lips. Suddenly, the peaceful meadow erupted into a symphony of chaos.

The ground trembled, and the line of soldiers collapsed only to be thrown into the air, decimated by massive roots bursting forth from the depths of the earth, reaching towards the sky, and tearing through anyone in their path. It was the merciless force of nature at work.

The screams of people intertwined with the terrified neighing and squealing of horses, creating a cacophony of sounds.

"Mages!" Another order pierced through the noise.

Orange streaks shot through the sky with such speed that they were almost impossible to track. Some arched and landed near Thyme, exploding upon impact, tearing the soil apart and scattering dirt in all directions. Others struck the roots, tearing them to shreds and igniting fires.

With his eyes closed, the old man continued his fluid, graceful movements, as if dancing in place.

The meadow around him split apart, creating a deep crevice that would block anyone who attempted to reach him, making room for more roots to burst out and encase him in a protective cocoon, effectively blocking the arrows hurtling through the air.

Explosions continued to rock the vicinity, intensifying the chaos. Soil chunks and flickering orange specks were scattered everywhere, alongside the bodies of individuals tossed about by the wildly thrashing roots.

The once serene place, dominated by lush greenery, bore no resemblance to its former self. Flames raged unchecked, growing in strength, and the earth itself became a threat to the living.

Amidst the pandemonium, a lone rider chose to circumvent the battlefield, flanking the ongoing clash while others charged directly at the druid concealed within his defensive barrier.

A powerful blast tore open the cocoon, only for it to seal shut again as if nature itself refused to let harm befall the old man.

Once he reached the entrance to the cave, Shinrou Rokuro dismounted from his horse and sprinted inside, unsheathing his katana. Gripping the blade firmly with both hands, he was met by a growling wolf, baring its sharp fangs. Behind the beast, two youngsters huddled together, their faces etched with panic.

"Come with me, and nobody will get hurt!" he commanded, his words more an order than an offer.

Milo lunged forward, attempting to intimidate the captain, but Shinrou Rokuro stood his ground, even stepping closer as if the animal failed to scare him. The wolf snapped, leaping toward the captain's throat, but Shinrou Rokuro deftly evaded the attack, swiftly turning to strike the beast on the head with the hilt of his sword.

Squealing, Milo landed heavily on the ground, not on his feet but on his side. A trickle of blood stained his silver fur as he struggled to rise. His eyes focused on the man standing near Yura and Yue-liang, shielding her with his own body.

"Come out at once!" the man demanded.

At that moment Whurel’s words flashed through the boy’s mind. ‘Are you a man, or a wuss?! A man fights for what is his, and avenges those dear to him! That is what a true man is! Now answer me, are you a man or a wuss?!’ Feeling the presence of Yura, right behind his back, her hands on his shoulders, made the memories vanish quickly. Instead, different ones came. All his life in Nakagawa Village. The hard work, and the fear for the soldiers. It got so deeply instilled in the hearts of the villages, that none of them dared to do anything forbidden.

Nobody was stealing. Nobody was complaining. They all just endured the hardships. This caused Yue-Liang to see the empire as a titan that could never be taken down, and now, with the man in front of him, wearing the black armor, he felt it all again.

"W-we w-will c-come... Just don't hurt us," the boy stuttered.

Raising his hands slowly, he cautiously approached, only to be seized violently by the neck. With the blade pressed against the boy's face, Shinrou Rokuro nodded toward the cave's exit, silently instructing the girl to leave.

With her hands raised in a gesture of surrender, she complied with the unspoken command, while Milo watched, growling at the man. The wolf retreated to the girl, keeping his yellow eyes fixed on the soldier.

In this way, they emerged outside, bearing witness to a scene of utter carnage. Horses and men alike had been torn apart, their lifeless forms strewn across the ground, while the flames consumed nearly everything in sight. At the center of this chaotic tableau stood the tightly woven cocoon, encasing Thyme. Towering roots loomed all around him, reaching skyward.

The forces of the empire were still present, although significantly diminished, lined in several rows at the edge of the forest – mainly archers and mages. Few infantrymen still dotted the battlefield, mostly fighting for their lives more than anything else.

"It's over, elder! Come out, or I'll hurt them!" Shinrou Rokuro shouted, his voice echoing amidst the devastation.

Thyme heard the words, and the protective roots surrounding him parted, revealing the old man with a grave expression on his face. A trickle of blood streamed from his nose and eyes, but aside from that, he appeared unharmed.

"Ceasefire!" came the command from somewhere beyond the wall of brown that still stood behind the druid. The voice belonged to Yasu. "Save the injured!"

Those who were able to, began the retreat, assisting anyone they could. Soldiers scrambled to lift their fallen comrades, their cries of pain mingling with the crackling of flames. The air grew thick with smoke.

"Surrender, elder. We mean you no harm, but we must take those two," Shinrou Rokuro informed with a calmer tone, though his voice carried through the chaos.

"Leave the children and take your wounded. The forest won't stop you on your way out," Thyme replied, his voice devoid of its usual gentleness, replaced instead with resolute determination.

"We cannot do that, elder," the captain shook his head, his gaze catching sight of a man sprinting at the edge of his vision, far behind the druid. He recognized him. "I have lost too many men today. How can I face the emperor if this sacrifice has not achieved what he desired?"

"I don’t care for your emperor's desires!" the old man snapped.

Milo growled, reinforcing his words.

And then, a lone arrow arched through the air, finding its mark in Thyme's neck. He instinctively grasped it, his eyes widening before he collapsed to his knees, gasping.

"No!" Yura screamed.

Yue-Liang’s mind went blank. In the absolute emptiness, only Whurel’s voice echoed, ‘Are you a man, or a wuss?!’ This pushed him over the edge. Seizing the opportunity, he gripped the sword's blade with his bare hand, swiftly twisted his body, and struck the man directly under the chin with his elbow, producing an audible crack.

Milo leaped on Shinrou Rokuro without hesitation, his mouth open, producing a loud roar of pure fury, while the boy lunged forward to grab the girl and pull her along. It took her a fleeting moment to comprehend the situation, but when she did, she ran with all her might, heading straight toward the forest.

They soon veered slightly apart, their breaths labored and choked by smoke as they pushed themselves to their limits. But another solitary arrow sliced through the air, finding its mark in the girl's thigh, piercing her flesh.

"Aa!" she cried out as she collapsed face-first onto the ground, which cut her scream short.

Yue-liang came to an abrupt halt, skidding on the grass as he turned back to rush to her side.

"Run! Run!" Yura screamed at him, struggling to get back on her feet.

He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the forest, but he couldn't abandon her. Taking a step toward her, he heard her shout, "Leave me, you idiot! Run!"

Gritting his teeth, he heeded her words. As she rose to chase after him, she noticed two soldiers hot on the boy's heels, coming from the side.

"No!" escaped her lips, causing Yue-liang to realize the imminent danger and redirect his path, increasing his speed.

Yura managed to stand, only to be seized from behind by Shinrou Rokuro. She screamed, biting and kicking in a desperate attempt to free herself, but he forcefully spun her around, and what she witnessed shattered her heart completely. Milo lay lifeless on the grass, blood staining his snout.

Meanwhile, Yue-liang reached the edge of the forest. Leaping over fallen branches and skillfully maneuvering between the trees, he did his best to shake off the pursuing soldiers, but they drew nearer.

He pressed on, stealing glances over his shoulder to track their progress, inadvertently stumbling more in the process. Nonetheless, he couldn't resist checking. With each passing moment, the clamor from the meadow faded, drowned by the sound of his own ragged breaths, fuelled by the adrenaline, which made him overcome the limitation of his body in the sprint for his life.

Unbeknownst to him, the gentle hum of a river joined the cacophony, but he realized his whereabouts when he spotted the towering rock jutting out from the ground. This landmark was etched firmly in his memory.

He leaped onto the rock, scrambling on all fours to maintain his balance, marking the grey with the red of his blood, pouring from the cut, only for one of the soldiers to seize his leg. The boy swiftly twisted around, skidding on the stone.

"NO!" he screamed, but they had already caught hold of his clothes, ready to overpower him.

All the pain he had endured—the death of his mother, the loss of Thyme, and Yura's capture—rushed before his eyes in an instant. A burning rage surged within him, screaming to be unleashed.

Without a moment's hesitation, he surrendered to the fury. His hand, marked by a strange silver symbol, radiated with a brilliant light, and he succumbed to unconsciousness.