Willow plunged her sword deep into the bear-like monster's chest. Despite the impact, the creature was too big and strong to be defeated with a single strike. It retaliated by swinging its long, clawed hand towards her head. Willow swiftly ducked, narrowly avoiding a direct hit, but the last claw managed to connect with her forehead, tearing through her warding and slicing open her skin.

 

 Blood trickled down her face, causing a sharp sting and intense pain. She gritted her teeth, pulled back her sword and drove it into the bear’s throat, refusing to let the pain consume her. Now was not the time, She felt fear that she would loose herself the moment pain consumed her. 

 

Regaining her composure, Willow withdrew her sword from the monster's throat and jumped back, narrowly avoiding a goblin's club that came crashing down at the same spot. Without hesitation, she dashed forward once again, driving her sword into the creature's head. The sound of metal shattering bone resonated through the air as the blade plunged into the soft brain tissue. 

 

Another wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her, but Willow shook it off, determined to press on. She withdrew her sword, noticing that its edge had dulled considerably. If it weren't for her enforcement ability and superhuman strength, the sword would have been rendered useless.

 

Willow's labored breaths echoed through the air, her body weighed down as if burdened by a thousand pounds. Every muscle ached, and her senses were overwhelmed by the stench of blood and the sounds of battle. She cast a glance back at the injured girl, unable to discern if she still clung to life. Hope flickered within Willow's heart, for if the girl perished, all her efforts would have been in vain.

 

But then, a sight caught her attention—a small wolf, darting towards the girl. Panic surged through Willow, propelling her towards the girl in a desperate sprint. In her haste, she failed to notice the predator that lurked behind her. Suddenly, searing pain jolted through her body, stealing her breath.

 

 She glanced down, only to find another wolf sinking its jaws into the flesh of her right leg, just below the knees. Ripping through her pants and tearing at the muscles beneath, it savagely claimed a vicious bite. A guttural cry erupted from Willow's throat as she drove her sword through the wolf's skull, impaling it deep into the unforgiving earth. Her legs gave way, collapsing her onto her knees, agony coursing through her being.

 

Forcing herself to endure the torment, Willow retrieved her sword, her mind consumed by thoughts of the injured girl. The advance of yet another wolf threatened to doom her hopes. Willow knew she would never reach the girl in time, her torn muscles rendering her movement agonizing halt. 

 

Desperation fueled her next action. Drawing a deep, ragged breath, she fought to find a shred of focus amidst the maddening pain. She channeled her mana, directing its raw power into her hand and through the sword. . The tip of the blade flickered with a gruesome red hue, barely visible yet undeniably present—a manifestation of her twisted, crimson-tinged mana.

 

Willow's hand trembled as she grasped the hilt of her blood-soaked sword, pointed in wolf direction, her body pulsating with the remnants of her exhausted strength. With a primal scream, she hurled the blade towards the beast that feasted upon the broken body of the injured girl. The sword cleaved through the air, a streak of crimson in the darkness, and impaled the creature's chest. It slammed into a gnarled tree, the impact causing bones to shatter and flesh to tear, as the vile beast writhed in its final moments. And Sword nailed into the tree trunk.

 

A fleeting moment of relief passed through Willow's battered form, but it was quickly shattered as the massive bear-like monster’s final retaliation. With a brutal swing, it sent her crashing to the ground, her head colliding with the earth. Monster died crashing right beside Willow. Agony reverberated through her skull, radiating down her spine like a lightning bolt of torment. Blood pooled beneath her, mingling with the dirt and leaves, a macabre painting of her suffering.

 

 Was this the end? No, it couldn't be. She had only just begun her journey since her reincarnation, and her inn still hadn’t welcome any guests.

 

"Place everything in your magic, let it manifest its true power," a haunting voice whispered, tendrils of malevolence curling around her thoughts. Willow's body trembled, NO, She denied.

 

Drawing a ragged breath, Willow's eyes fluttered open, pain pulsating through her skull. Her body, a vessel weighed down and feeble, struggled against the invisible shackles that held her. Her gaze focused on the scene before her, monsters no longer interested in her broken form. Instead, they converged upon girl, the injured and dying, they desired to feast upon her and Willow could only bear witness to their march.

 

Willow manipulated the flow of mana, not only her own but the ambient energy that permeated the atmosphere. Its presence was as palpable to her as her own essence, a result, perhaps, of her proximity to death's doorstep. Willow pushed aside any other thoughts that could distract her from her purpose.

 

She directed the mana through her body, focusing on her injured leg, creating a thick warding that stemmed the flow of blood. The same treatment was applied to her bitten hand. With sheer willpower, she enforced her weakened body, attempting to regain some semblance of strength. Though her physical form resisted, her mana surged forth, lending her the vitality she so desperately needed.

 

Struggling against her own limitations, Willow attempted to rise to her feet, but her legs betrayed her, refusing to bear her weight. Her gaze fell upon the sword, a flicker of inspiration igniting within her mind. Unable to move her own body, she could still manipulate the mana within the blade. Drawing upon the teachings of Vivienne, she conjured a mental image of the sword in motion, willing it to obey her command. Yet, it remained motionless, unresponsive to her plea.

 

A weak cry pierced the air, emanating from the injured girl. Panic surged through Willow, a sense of urgency gripping her very being. This couldn't be happening, not like this, she admonished herself.

 

Willow willed the sword to move, but it remained motionless. The mana within her blade seemed within her grasp, yet her control slipped through her fingers.

 

"Think," she muttered, her mind racing for a solution. Vivienne's teachings echoed in her memory, though their meaning remained elusive. "Control the mana within... establish it as your servant."

 

Confusion clouded her thoughts, but she refused to yield. Another approach, she must find another way. Drawing upon her reserves, Willow channeled every ounce of mana she could muster into her hand, her hand trembling as it bled, she nullified  the warding in her hand. A crimson aura enveloped her wounded hand, mirroring the energy of her sword.

 

With sheer willpower, she directed the mana into the air, weaving it into a bridge—a rope of swirling energy that connected her hand to the blade. The strain was immense, her mana pool expanding with each passing second as she absorbed the ambient energy around her. The rope grew in size and strength.

 

Imagining the mana rope contracting, she pulled with all her might. The sword, like a coiled spring, obeyed her command, hurtling toward her.

 

With the sword back in her grasp, Willow mustered the strength to prop herself into a seated position. She channeled mana into the blade, the crimson hue intensifying and radiating with a sinister aura. The mental image of the rope connecting her hand to the sword remained firmly entrenched in her mind.

 

Pointing the sword's tip towards the writhing swarm of monsters, she unleashed it once more with unrelenting force. The blade tore through the back of one wolf, obliterating its body in a grotesque display of destruction. It continued its path, rending through the flesh of the second and third creatures, until its momentum waned.

 

Willow retrieved her sword, hoping that the monsters would redirect their attention towards her, away from the defenseless girl. But her hopes were in vain—they never strayed from their prey. The futility of throwing her sword again became apparent, and she used it as a crutch to steady herself on unsteady legs. Pouring every ounce of mana into her body, it surged through her veins like molten magma. The pulsating energy within her grew almost unbearable. 

 

In a final desperate attempt, Willow released her mana into the air, casting presence, the detection spells. Someone had to be controlling these creatures—it was her best assumption. The girl couldn't have been the mere victim of chance encounters with these monsters.

 

With her eyes closed, Willow relied on her heightened mana senses to perceive the world around her. The frenzied presence of the monsters filled her awareness, the injured girl teetered on the brink of death, and on the opposite side of the crimson waterfall, she sensed the presence of someone—a person who seemed to be controlling the creatures.

 

Willow channeled mana into her sword, though she knew it would be futile to try and slay the monsters now, their focus solely on the defenseless girl. Instead, she directed her blade towards the hidden figure behind the bushes. She could sense his mana, his awareness of her presence. That was exactly what she wanted—his attention fixed on her, drawing the monsters away from their intended victim.

 

Her eyes remained shut, her concentration solely focused on the person's mana signature. They seemed to be alone, or at least that was her hope. With unwavering determination, Willow hurled her sword with every ounce of strength she possessed, before collapsing to the ground once more. Just as the blade neared its target, someone intercepted it, deflecting its trajectory with a powerful strike. Yet, she had accomplished her goal—she had garnered their attention. With a swift motion, she summoned her sword back into her hand,.

 

As if drawn to her like a delectable feast, every monster turned its attention towards Willow. A twisted smile adorned her blood-soaked face, the crimson liquid flowing freely from the gash on her forehead. With a deep inhale, she embraced the searing pain coursing through her body, the shattered dam of mana within her flowing chaotically. It was enough, just enough to grant her the minuscule strength needed to steady her feet. She didn't need to move; she would make her stand right here.

 

And so, began the carnage. Willow unleashed a relentless onslaught, her sword cleaving through anything that dared to approach. With each swing, her mastery over mana intensified, its density growing alongside her insatiable thirst for its power. The hue of her mana deepened, resembling blood more than fire—a reflection of the blood she bathed in, a tapestry of colors from blue to yellow tainted by the gruesome red.

 

A goblin leapt from above, its trajectory intercepted by Willow's raised blade. With a swift motion, she swung her sword, using the goblin's lifeless body as a weapon to strike down the wolf that had bitten her leg once again. Both the goblin and the wolf were sent hurtling through the air, crashing down somewhere beyond her sight.

 

Willow's body throbbed with pain, but the sensation only fueled her relentless thirst for vengeance. Her entire being craved the sight of their blood spilled upon the ground. She paid no mind to the countless bite marks that marred her flesh; they were insignificant compared to the satisfaction of their demise.

 

As another bear like monster came hurtling towards her, Willow sidestepped with uncanny agility. With a swift swing of her blood-red sword, she severed its head from its body, the impact resonating through the air with a sickening thud.

 

Blood continued to trickle down her face, her vision blurry. She turned her gaze towards the battlefield, the piles of lifeless flesh that now littered the forest floor. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, a foul perfume she had grown accustomed to over the course of the day.

 

The sun had long since disappeared, yielding to the moon's pale light. When she had entered the foreboding realm of Darkwood, the day had barely begun. Now, she had spent her entire day in a relentless slaughter. But for whom? Willow questioned herself, her footsteps dragging as she approached the injured girl whose name remained a uknown. She had expended every ounce of her strength, decimating an entire horde of monsters, all for the sake of a stranger. But why?

 

The sound of clapping shattered the stillness of the night, drawing Willow's attention away from her contemplation. Her weary footfalls came to a halt as she turned to face the source of the sound. There stood a figure, their face concealed behind a mask, their body draped in a cloak adorned with enigmatic patterns. Behind them stood a group of guards, their numbers reaching double digits, though Willow could not ascertain their exact count.

 

"What a magnificent performance," the masked figure spoke, their voice devoid of human warmth. "Dare I say, a blood-thrilling performance indeed."

Thank you for reading.