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Windrider stood firm in the enormous forest that surrounded the Valiant Blades. The wind began swirling around her, gathering strength as she called out into the wilderness.
"Oi!" she shouted, her voice sharp and commanding. "Whoever’s out there, I suggest you leave while you still can."
The wind intensified as she prepared her next move. With a swift motion, Windrider unleashed Wind Slash—a powerful, crescent-shaped blade of wind that ripped through the dense trees and foliage. The attack tore across the landscape, clearing a five-mile radius in every direction. As the wind died down, creatures began falling from the treetops, some lifeless from the impact of her slash while others scampered away in fear, their guttural cries echoing through the forest.
Windrider, unimpressed, used Zephyr Step, her body blurring as she moved at incredible speed, darting through the trees and eliminating every last one of the fleeing creatures. With a soft sigh, she returned to her comrades. "What a pain."
As she approached, Ashford crouched down beside one of the fallen creatures, inspecting its unusual form. "What do you suppose these are?" he asked, his voice deep and thoughtful.
Drayke shrugged, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "Could just be some local wildlife. This part of the Land of Spade seems to have all sorts of strange creatures."
Suddenly, the ground shook as a figure landed before them with a heavy thud, causing dust and smoke to rise into the air. When the dust settled, standing before them was a massive figure—a man with wild, untamed energy radiating from him. His muscles bulged beneath his tattered clothing, and his eyes glowed with primal ferocity. This was Ragnar Wildclaw, the King of the Jungle.
The jungle, known as the Thornveil Expanse, was Ragnar’s domain, and the Valiant Blades had unknowingly trespassed into his territory.
Without warning, Ragnar activated Wildcall Command. His roar reverberated through the forest, and in an instant, dozens of Feral Prowlers appeared from the shadows. These agile, predatory creatures were smaller than the ones the Valiant Blades had just defeated, but they moved with incredible speed and coordination, surrounding the group in moments.
Ragnar grinned, his teeth sharp and predatory. His voice was deep and commanding. "You’ve come to my jungle, but now you’ll meet your end."
The Feral Prowlers began advancing, their glowing eyes locked onto the Valiant Blades. Windrider, still standing slightly ahead of her team, sighed. "I don’t know who you are or what you want, but we have more important things to do." With that, she activated Storm Surge. Wind surged around her, propelling her forward at an unimaginable speed. She darted through the prowlers, delivering rapid strikes that knocked them back, opening up space for her comrades.
As the Feral Prowlers regrouped, Drayke seized the moment. "I’ve got this," he said with a grin, stepping forward and drawing his sword. He activated Draconic Blade, the blade igniting with fiery energy as he prepared to strike. With Windrider’s Storm Surge aiding him, Drayke swung his sword, the flame-infused strike cutting through the remaining prowlers in a single, devastating arc.
The battlefield went quiet for a moment, but the victory was short-lived.
Ragnar, his smile fading into a deadly seriousness, appeared right beside Drayke. With a roar, he unleashed Primal Strength, his fist connecting with Drayke’s body with the force of a charging beast. The impact sent Drayke crashing into the ground, creating a crater beneath him as dust and debris flew into the air. Ragnar roared again, smoke billowing from the impact as he towered over the fallen warrior.
But something wasn’t right—Ragnar’s instincts, honed from years of dominating his jungle, told him something was off. Drayke wasn’t there. He scanned the area quickly, using his Predator’s Instinct, and within moments, he detected Drayke’s presence running toward him from one side and Windrider from the other.
However, what he didn’t sense was the figure standing right in front of him—Commander Aiden.
Ragnar wasted no time, using his Thunderclaw Strike, channeling the power of lightning into his claws as he slashed toward Aiden. But the strike passed through Aiden without any effect, as though he were a ghost. Ragnar’s eyes widened in confusion.
Aiden’s voice cut through the haze. "You missed."
Ragnar realized too late—he had been fooled by Aiden’s Phantom Feint, a technique that created afterimages of himself to distract and confuse enemies. The real Aiden was already behind Ragnar, his sword drawn and ready.
At that moment, Ashford Thorne, who had been observing from a distance, stepped forward. His voice was calm, his tone cold. "It’s time to finish this."
Ashford raised his fist, channeling the power of the planet beneath his feet. He activated Seismic Strike, and the ground trembled as he brought his fist down toward Ragnar. The force of his strike caused the land to split, and as his punch connected with Ragnar’s chest, the impact was devastating. A massive hole was punched clean through Ragnar’s torso, his body collapsing to the ground, defeated.
Smoke and energy still flowed from Ashford’s fist, his eyes glowing white with power. Windrider, laughing softly, walked up to him. "What a waste of time."
Drayke, dusting himself off after evading Ragnar’s attack, joined in with a chuckle. "Agreed."
The Valiant Blades regrouped, the fight complete. Without another word, they continued on their journey through the Thornveil Expanse, leaving behind the remnants of Ragnar’s fallen reign.
The scene shifted to just outside the jungle, where the two dark-cloaked figures from before stood, watching the aftermath. One of them, their voice low and foreboding, spoke quietly. "They’re coming."
The chapter ended there, the threat of the unknown figures looming over the journey of the Valiant Blades.
ns 15.158.61.19da2
