"An ambush!" Aelina opened her eyes, her dim star-like gaze instantly brightening. "Truly the wisdom of a mere Golden Ape."

Mortals’ laughable wisdom couldn’t fathom that some never rested, always vigilant. Standby mode merely shut down most energy-draining functions—her optical and acoustic sensors stayed active. She’d seen every movement.

Protect the ponies first, she thought, so no one would lack cart-pullers after victory. She drew the Molecular Reconstructor from her waist, aiming at four Shetland ponies just startled from sleep. Faint blue light spilled into the pitch-black forest. A wall rose. The ponies stamped restlessly. One brown pony tried to flee but was yanked back by reins tied to a tree. Another let out a panicked whinny.

Aelina stood on a branch, shouting Fro’s name. But the Golden Ape was nestled in his sleeping bag, curled beside the smoldering campfire, drooling through a blissful dream.

A long, sharp whistle shattered the last silence. Two hundred meters away, Aelina saw the dog pack surge toward her feet like boiling water. Deafening barks shook the earth. Birds startled from trees took flight. Countless foul mouths gaped, seizing every bite. A rabid dog leaped from bushes, crashing into a one-eyed brute. They tore at each other instantly. Even dry branches weren’t spared—a falling twig sparked a fresh fight.

Yet as the rabid-dog tsunami neared engulfment, Fro clung to his "duty" of sleep. Aelina’s call only made him roll over, hands clamped over his ears. Enraged, she jumped straight down.

A tingling crept up her thigh.

"Damn that Golden Ape," Aelina muttered. She dashed to Fro, raised the Molecular Reconstructor, and slammed it hard on his round head.

"Ow!" Fro jolted upright, rubbing blurry eyes. "Xina, I haven’t forgotten you! Aelina and I are innocent!"

"Xina my ass!" Aelina snapped, slamming him again.

Fro fully woke, clutching his head. "Aelina! Why hit me? I didn’t badmouth humans!"

"God! Wake up! We’re ambushed!" Aelina yelled, yanking his long ears. She doubted he was truly an Elf—where was that famed keen hearing?

The sky-splitting barks made the Elf shiver. "We’re surrounded!"

He fumbled for his sword, patted his chest, and froze—he wore only a sweater.

"Hurry, Aelina! Help me armor up! Where’s my Full Armor? I left it here!"

"Sigh." Aelina watched the flustered Golden Ape shake her head. "Stand still. Calm down."

"Huh? I get it, but where’s my armor?"

Faint blue light enveloped Fro. In five seconds, he stood in Full Armor.

"Battle ready. Guard the cart—slash anyone approaching. Understood?" Aelina enunciated slowly, fearing the ape’s stupidity.

"Got it!" Fro pulled down his visor. His head throbbed dizzily—had he been hit?

Aelina glided toward the cart. Trembling bushes, snapping twigs, pony whinnies, and distant crow caws wove an eerie symphony. Unfazed, she aimed the Molecular Reconstructor at logs beside the cart. A wooden ladder leaned against it. Her hard heels clicked—tap tap tap—as she climbed to the roof.

Fro watched: the tall Silverhaired Maiden, faint blue light at her feet, the night’s symphony. She strode like a queen to her stage—utterly magical, dreamlike. Half-asleep or addled from the hit, he barely registered a dog lunging as a "reminder." Instinctively, he blocked. His blade clashed with filthy paws. Purple-blue arcs leaped onto the dog’s wavy fur. "Whimper~" The dog crumpled. As it rolled to rise, Fro’s sword chopped its head off.

Steaming blood gushed, reeking. Fro snapped fully awake. He pulled down his visor, fighting toward the cart. Rabid dogs were just dogs—rotten meat or not. His sharp blade sliced flesh and bone with light swings. He grew bolder: cleaving one, slashing another. Backed against the cart, stone walls rose on both sides. Dogs couldn’t surround him; armor deflected bites. Clad in Full Armor, Fro felt like a legend—dogs lunged from darkness, he swung by sound and dim light. They fell; he stood unscathed, energy to spare.

Aelina stood relaxed on the cart roof. Dogs swarmed, scrambling up. She wielded the Molecular Reconstructor, expanding the roof’s edge into a wooden "hat." Thud thud thud—hard heads bounced off it. "Such thick-skulled fools."

Before she finished, whoosh! A burly man in a wooden mask appeared, firing a crossbow bolt.

"Useless."

Aelina didn’t glance up. She raised the Molecular Reconstructor. In blue light, the bolt dissolved to mist.

"What witchcraft is this!" a hoarse voice cried.

The Silverhaired Maiden smiled faintly. Something more explosive waited. She disassembled the roof—a hole opened beneath her feet, revealing logs tied in the cart. Blue light shimmered; logs reassembled into a Giant Crossbow around her.

"Eat my bolt!"

The bolt shot toward the masked man. He ducked behind a tree; it thudded deep into the trunk. Aelina loaded the Giant Crossbow and a foot-mounted crossbow, eyes locked on the tree—ready to catch the mastermind. The Giant Crossbow fired relentlessly at dogs, never missing. Dead branches littered the dry forest. Aelina felt like she was playing an ancient tower defense game. Rabid dogs scratched and slammed the unbreachable cart. Blood stench overpowered rot. To help the Golden Ape see, she lit a torch, planting it on the cart.

Fro stared in disbelief. Dog corpses piled around him: twitching bodies missing limbs or heads, charred wounds, three impaled together writhing in futile agony.

Undeniably, this ambush had failed miserably.

The masked man behind the tree saw doom coming. With a hate-filled whistle, he signaled retreat. Truth was, without his magical whistle driving them earlier, these beasts would’ve scattered long ago.

"Running?" Aelina lit another torch. "A mere mortal thinks he can just leave?"

She pulled a half-toothed wooden comb from her bag, raising it high. Torchlight highlighted its black bloodstains—this was why she’d lit them.

"Masked man!" Her voice echoed. "See this? Burn it, and the Wraith crushed by stone dies forever—ashes, soul scattered."

He peeked out. Seeing the comb in the Silverhaired Maiden’s hand, his brown eyes widened behind the mask. "You madwoman! Give it back!"

"A love token? I saw your names on it." Aelina smiled, firing. The bolt struck his mask. He clutched it, tumbling behind the tree—the thick mask saved him.

"Now say goodbye." She set the comb ablaze. Orange flames caught, then eerie green fire erupted. Blue smoke turned green.

"No!!!" he screamed, sobbing. He tore off his mask, revealing a stubbled, weathered face with a broad lion nose. Tears streamed as he begged, "Please! Don’t burn it!"

Aelina watched coldly. Green flames consumed the comb. She tossed it down—it vaporized midair into glowing emerald ashes. Wind scattered them; he grasped futilely as light slipped through his fingers. Tears dripped from his lion nose onto dry leaves.

The ashes flared. Green mist swirled, forming a Wraith—long lolling tongue, tattered yellow dress that might’ve been a wedding gown.

Aelina eyed the Wraith’s ghastly face. "Solve all problems at once."

The Wraith and mastermind—time to finish them together.

Seeing the Wraith, Lion Nose blew his whistle in grief. The piercing shriek tore at eardrums. Dogs hesitated, fearing the Wraith and death. Under the whistle’s torment, they writhed on the ground. Rising, eyes blood-red and mad, they charged the cart.