Time rolls a little backward.

“Brothers, are you ready?” The man in a lion-head mask stood on a tall rock, looming like a cliff above a restless sea.

“Oh—!”

“Woooo—awoooo—” Strange animal cries rose like a night chorus, and the Mountain Bandits fidgeted, strapping on black dog-head masks that gleamed like wet obsidian.

The snarling muzzles bared four black fangs, sharp as moonlit knives.

“How’s the strategist’s plan?” asked Tooth Tiger, his tiger mask bristling like iron grass.

The leopard-headed strategist held a silver bead, cold as a winter star. “All in place. Brothers, just let loose. I only ask for a sip of the broth.”

The lion-headed leader hooked an arm over his shoulder, laughter rolling like drums. “Hah! We’d never feed our great strategist scraps. The personal-guard fae will be yours first. How’s that?”

The leopard-headed strategist folded his fists and bowed. “Much obliged, Boss.”

The bandit chief clapped his shoulder, then faced the crowd like a storm front. “Brothers! We’ve holed up eight long years. Time to feast! Unleash your hunger!

Rip the sprites’ robes, tear their short skirts, pin them to the earth and grind them down!

Roar—!”

“Oh—!”

“Boss! Boss! Boss!”

“Target! Xurenxus City—”

“Charge—”

“Fae maidens, we’re coming! Hahahaha!”

...

“Hey, Rita, want a banana?” A teammate wagged a yellow curve like a taunt in a sunny grove.

Rita’s face tightened, like a cat flicking rain off its whiskers. “Shoo. Keep it for yourself.”

“Use it? Please. Rita wants it more. I saw you get handsy in the bath the other day.”

“You— you spied on my bath?!”

“Come on, we’re all girls. What’s to fear?”

“Get over here. I’ll jam that banana down your loud mouth.”

“It’s just a banana. I hear the bandits have [Banana-Fans]! They love girls like you— tough and pretty.”

“Alinda, maybe you secretly want the bandits’ [Banana-Fan] to fan you?”

“Quit it! Nonsense!”

“Ah! Nailed it! Shameless!”

“You two… we’re on duty, at least…” Rita looked done in, like a big sister with no cure for mischief.

“THOOM—!” A blast cracked the quiet forest like thunder cleaving mountains.

“What was that!” The shock stabbed Rita’s ears like icy pins. It came from close, too close.

The sprites clapped hands over ears and shook their heads like startled birds. “Captain! Sounds like that blocked side path!” Alinda snatched her longbow and fixed on the cave.

“Alinda, go check!” Rita ordered, and Alinda crept toward the sealed cave like a wary doe. The rock face had split with long cracks, as if a giant knuckle had punched through stone ribs.

“THOOM—!” Another impact, huge as a siege drum. Rita’s team flinched like leaves in a squall. “Someone’s smashing the stones inside! Leader!” Alinda’s face went pale, milk-white with fear.

“Whistle—!” Rita shouted, voice tight with terror. “Alinda! Back, now!”

They had just raised their whistles—

“THOOM—BAM—rumble—” A battering ram blew the cave open like a burst dam. Alinda was closest; the ram speared through, then slammed her like a runaway bull.

She didn’t even cry out. She flew dozens of meters, snapping three trees before she fell like a broken kite.

Her slender body was torn and bent into a grotesque shape, beauty fixed with baffled eyes, a hollow, unwilling gaze mourning her fate.

“Alinda—!” Rita’s scream tore like cloth. Two heartbeats later, grief hardened to steel. She bit down, drew a black arrow, set the bow, lit the tip, and shot skyward.

Whoosh—sizzle— The arrow climbed and unfurled a fire-dragon, coiling smoke like black rivers. Fire and soot scrawled a blazing sign in the night.

...

“Ah—!”

“Kill!”

Their first sight of the long-lost forest hit like spring breaking ice. Desire surged free, and they turned into men-shaped beasts.

“Follow this path straight to Jade Spirit Peak. Then use [Folding Ladders] to cross fast! Once we’re in, follow my orders!” The bandit strategist drove them forward like a flood.

...

“It’s the Mountain Bandits!!!” Rita froze, jaw tight as a bowstring. She had expected the National Hunting Corps. Instead came bandits, roaring like ten thousand.

“Why are there so many bandits here?!” A teammate stared, stunned as a deer in torchlight.

Rita faltered for one beat, then moved like a snapping flag. “Stick to the plan. Link up with the captain! Move! They took the side path— the main road won’t stop them!”

“Yes!”

...

“Look! Those girl sprites!” A sharp-eyed bandit spotted Rita’s team skimming the treetops like green swallows.

They still wore that green fae set. From below, pale legs flashed, and a hint of dreamlight shimmered like dew.

“Shoot them down—! Dead is fine—! Awooo—” A wolf-headed squad leader roared like a winter gale.

Thrum—thrum—thrum— Silver crossbows came out like glints of moon on steel, and a storm of arrowheads hissed cold as frost.

Whoosh—whoosh— Arrows whistled past Rita’s ears like angry bees. “Why do they have the National Hunting Corps’ bolts?!” Shock stabbed her gut like a thorn.

“Could it be—?” She didn’t finish. Two teammates took arrows to the legs, the force punching through and flinging them off branches, slamming them into a trunk, then dropping them like cut fruit.

Their eyes turned foggy, minds drifting like mist.

“No! Tinefin! Koya!” Several women cried out, feet stalling, trying to save them.

“Fire arrows!” Rita ground her teeth till they clicked like ice, fury filling her eyes like blood-red dawn.

“Captain?!” The seventeen remaining looked stunned, caught like fish in a net.

“Fire! Do you want to watch Tinefin and Koya endure those bandits?” Rita’s gaze bled red, hard as flint.

...

“Two are down!”

“Let me— me first!”

The dog-head masks lunged, red lenses glowing like embers, hunger dragging them forward like chains.

The team clenched their jaws and loosed two blazing arrows toward Tinefin and Koya, flames like tigers leaping.

Sss—whoosh— The arrows struck their bodies. Fire kissed skin and swallowed them whole. As the flames reached their faces, they looked back, grateful, eyes like clear springs.

Then they became pure fireballs, heat cracking bark, and the surrounding trees caught like dry straw.

“Bastards—!” The fastest wolf-headed captains rushed, their starved maleness jutting like spears, only to grasp empty air. Their dream of fae lay two steps beyond reach.

In the rear, the bandit strategist watched Rita’s unyielding eyes and blinked, startled like a hawk catching new wind. “I didn’t expect the Elf Clan to be so fierce— better ash than dishonor…

No, not the clan. It’s them. It’s their commander.” He stared at the spot where Rita’s team had vanished in that heartbeat of hesitation, and a cold gleam flashed like a knife.