Chapter 20
“What’s going on?!” “What happened?!”
The deafening roar startled everyone. After all, most magical beasts deep in the forest had already fled—only the Imperial-tier Beast and a few tenth-rank beasts remained. So whoever was fighting over there…
“Could it be a few tenth-rank beasts clashing?” An adventurer trembled violently. The sudden blast had shaken him badly, but what terrified him more were the following booms—growing steadily closer.
“No. There’s magical energy,” Edi murmured, sensing the air. After a pause, he added, “People are over there. A very powerful mage.”
Silva focused toward the source. She, too, felt the surging aura. *Is Yenoa there?*
If not… who were they? Adventurers? Assassins?
“Screeeeech——!!!”
A bizarre shriek tore through the forest, followed by thunderous impacts that made ears ring and heads spin. Sharp-eyed adventurers spotted trees collapsing in a violent path—flattened as if bulldozed. The noise drew nearer.
Only then did the group realize: those powerhouse fighters were heading straight for *them*. Despair washed over them. *This forest is massive! Fight anywhere else—why HERE?!*
“Fall back! Now!”
Seeing trees topple closer, Edi barked orders. Adventurers scattered instantly, leaving Roland and Silva frozen at the cave entrance.
“Holy crap, they vanished that fast?!” Roland blinked around. *Weren’t we teammates? What happened to team spirit?*
“Run!” He grabbed Silva’s arm—but the nearest grove of trees exploded inward.
These weren’t ordinary trees. Nourished by the sacred land, each had mutated into near-legendary timber. Had they gained sentience, they’d become Imperial-tier Treants. Even Roland, a Sage-tier Mage, would need multiple heavy spells to break one. Yet now—they snapped like twigs.
Through the falling timber charged a colossal shadow, momentum like a mountain, speed leaving faint afterimages. Behind it trailed several bloodied, black-clad figures.
Silva’s breath hitched. *Confirmed.* Someone in the palace truly wanted her dead. And Yenoa’s disappearance… undeniably tied to them.
Too fast to identify, the shadow barreled toward the cave—straight at Roland and Silva. It didn’t slow.
In barely a second, Roland shoved Silva aside. The impact slammed him deep into the cave.
A dull *thud* echoed in Silva’s skull. Tears welled. Her vision blurred; the world turned unreal. *That shadow… a tenth-rank beast. Hit like that… will he even have a body left?*
Tenth-rank beasts were continental apex predators—immune to extremes, bodies so tough they’d survive decapitation. Roland’s magic couldn’t save his flesh. One collision… half-dead, if lucky.
The shadow vanished into the cave. Just as Silva lunged forward, the entrance shuddered. A heavy stone door crashed down, sealing it shut.
“Damn it!” Noble composure shattered. *What is this wall?!*
But her mind stayed sharp. She turned. The black-clad fighters were wounded—blood trailed the beast’s path. They cursed the escaped shadow, then locked eyes on Silva. Hope flared in their gazes.
*“The Imperial Princess? Our target!”*
*“Searched half the forest… and she’s right here!”*
*“Alone. Perfect chance. Move!”*
They nodded. A Grand Sage was with them—though gravely injured from the beast fight. No matter. Silva was merely an Archmage. Killing her should be effortless.
Spells erupted. Mana surged unnaturally dense across the sacred land, accelerating their casting. Some bombarded from range; others closed in.
Silva had already donned Roland’s full set of six divine artifacts. With a flick of the Chronos Staff in her left hand—Blizzard.
Frost swept the land. Temperatures plummeted. Silver coated every surface. Incoming spells vanished into howling snow.
Trained rigorously, Silva moved with lethal grace. Divine boots amplified her speed. A flash—*swish*—the Endless Blade cleaved an assassin in two.
She blinked. *This strength… the blade’s effect?* Roland’s words echoed: *“With this, every strike crits.”*
Thinking of Roland, her focus wavered. A sneak attack nearly landed—but Frostheart instantly forged crystalline armor across her skin. *Clang! Clang!* Blows deflected.
The assassins turned to flee—then froze. Legs locked stiff. Movement slowed to a crawl.
Silva cut them down like vegetables.
The blizzard eased. Snowflakes thinned. The sacred land lay buried under deep white. Footsteps sank instantly.
Distant black-clad onlookers gaped. *Divine artifacts?! How?!* The Sylvanora royal family owned only three. Intel confirmed: Silva carried none. No guards. No relics.
*Where did these come from? Pulled from air? As if divine gear grew on trees!*
They knew nothing of Roland. Silva had deliberately obscured his presence—to keep palace schemers from targeting him.
Silva’s gaze turned icy. Murderous intent radiated.
She raised the Endless Blade—
A beam of white light plummeted from the sky.
*BOOM!*
Radiance devoured the land. Trees snapped waist-high, uprooted with soil. Silence. Whiteness. Total erasure.
The light expanded nearly five hundred meters before fading. Only a smoking crater remained—steaming, scorched earth.
Except the mountain.
Amid barren soil, its dark, jagged rocks stood unnaturally stark. Eerie. Wrong.
A figure materialized—torn black robes, bloodstained, beast-claw wounds visible. The squad’s Grand Sage. Sensing Silva’s power mid-recovery, he’d unleashed a Forbidden Spell without hesitation. Sacrificing his own men to erase her.
He exhaled in relief. *Ashes. Gone.*
Then—an ominous dagger plunged into his heart from behind.
