The carriage continued its journey through the dense forest road, wheels grinding steadily over uneven ground.
Moonlight barely pierced the thick canopy overhead, turning the trees into looming silhouettes.
Inside, the air had grown cooler, carrying the faint scent of pine and damp earth.
Elara sat with her usual composed grace, through her fingers occasionally tapped against the velvet seat in quiet rhythm.
Lucien rested his head against the cushioned wall, the exhaustion of the long reception weighing on his young body like a heavy blanket.
“You handled yourself adequately tonight,” Elara said after a while, her voice low.
“The prince noticed.
That could be useful… or dangerous.”
Lucien managed a tired nod.
“Just trying to survive the evening.”
She studied him in the dim lantern light filtering through the curtains.
“Survival looks different on you lately.”
Before Lucien could reply, chaos erupted.
The carriage slammed to a jarring halt as the horses reared in panic.
Wood splintered.
Shouts tore through the night- the driver’s voice cutting off in a gurgle, followed by the unmistakable clash of steel on steel.
Arrows whistled through the air like angry hornets.
Elara’s eyes widened.
“Ambush!”
The door on her side was wrenched open with violent force.
A masked assassin in black leathers lunged inside, curved dagger gleaming with enchanted poison that hissed faintly on the blade.
Elara reacted instantly.
Her fingers curled like claws, and shadows exploded from the carriage floor-thick, writhing tendrils born from her potent Nightshade affinity.
They lashed around the attacker’s wrist, yanking his arm back with a sickening crack.
The man roared in pain but twisted, slashing wildly with his free hand.
OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK-WE’RE DEAD.
I’M A CHILD IN A SUIT AND THESE GUYS ARE PROFESSIONAL MURDERERS.
TRUCK-KUN SENT ME TO DIE IN A FOREST DLC.
MY PANTS ARE GONNA NEED A FULL CLEANING SERVICE AFTER THIS.
LOCK IN YOU IDIOT, OR YOU’RE GONNA BE REDDIT MEME MATERIAL FOR THE WORST ISEKAI DEATH EVER!
Lucien scrambled back as another assassin smashed through the opposite window, glass shattering inward.
The man grabbed for him with gloved hands.
Pure terror sharpened Lucien’s focus.
He thrust his own hands forward, summoning his weaker but growing shadow affinity.
Inky darkness coiled clumsily around from his palms, wrapping around the attacker’s throat like a desperate noose.
Outside, the battle raged fiercely, Nightshade retainers fought on horseback and foot, swords flashing under moonlight.
Magic flared-bursts of shadows clashing against the assassins’ wind and earth affinities.
One retainer was thrown from his horse by a violent gust, crashing into a tree with a sick thud.
Elara pushed her attack.
Her shadows thickened into raze-edged whips, slicing across the first assassin’s chest and opening deep gashes.
Blood sprayed across the carriage interior.
The man staggered but countered with a poison-coated needle thrown from his belt.
Elara twisted aside, but it grazed her arm, leaving a burning line.
She hissed in pain.
“Stay back!” she snarled at Lucien, but her voice carried strain
No way.
If she goes down, I’m next.
These guys are coordinated-someone paid top dollar for this.
Time to stop being dead weight!
Lucien locked in, heart pounded like a drum.
He poured more power into his shadows, reinforcing Elara’s hold on the first assassin while simultaneously lashing out at the second through the broken window.
His tendrils were slower, less refined, but they tangled the man’s legs just as he tried to climb inside.
The assassin stumbled, buying Elara time to finish her opponent with a brutal spike of shadow through the chest.
The man convulsed once and went still.
The fight stretched on, brutal and unrelenting.
Two more assassins converged on their carriage.
One leaped onto the roof, boots thudding heavily as he stabbed downward with a long spear, trying to skewer them from above.
The wood cracked.
Elara sent shadows surging upward, forming a protective barrier that deflected the spear point with a metallic clang.
Lucien followed up, his own darkness snaking along the roof edge to pull at the attacker’s footing.
The man slipped but recovered, jumping down to Elara’s side.
He swung a heavy fist enchanted with wind magic.
The blow caught her shoulder, spinning her against the carriage wall.
Pain flashed across her face.
Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
Lucien’s fear turned into desperate fury.
She’s the only one who might keep me alive in this death game!
He pushed everything he had into his affinity.
Shadows erupted stronger than before, wrapping the spearman’s arms and torso in a crushing grip.
The assassin strained against it, muscles bulging, but the hold held long enough for Elara to recover.
She rose with cold fury in her eyes and drove a concentrated lance of shadow straight through the man’s defenses, piercing his side.
He screamed and collapsed.
The final pair of assassins pressed harder, sensing weakness.
Arrows rained down again.
One grazed Lucien’s cheek, drawing hot blood.
Pain stung sharply.
Elara pulled him down instinctively, shielding him with her body for a split second as her shadow formed a dome around the carriage.
The effort cost her-her breathing grew ragged, sweat beading on her forehead.
“You’re… not completely useless,” she panted between attacks, a hint of reluctant respect breaking through.
Lucien managed a shaky grin despite the terror.
“High praise.”
Together, their affinities began to sync in the heat of battle.
Elara’s precise, lethal control combined with Lucien’s raw, desperate reinforcement created openings neither could manage alone.
They dragged the last assassins down-one caught in a web of intertwined shadows, the other overwhelmed by relentless tendrils until Elara delivered the finishing strikes.
The ambush finally ended.
The forest fell silent except for the labored breathing of the survivors and the distant groans of wounded men.
Bodies littered the road.
The Duke’s carriage has circled back, reinforcements pouring in with torches and drawn weapons.
Elara slumped heavily against her seat, clutching her wounded shoulder.
Blood stained her once-elegent gown.
She looked at Lucien-really looked-for several long seconds.
The usual haughty mask had cracked, revealing something raw underneath.
“You fought,” she said quietly, voice hoarse.
“You didn’t run or hide.
That… wasn’t the brother I knew.”
Lucien wiped blood from his cheek, his small frame trembling with adrenaline.
“Guess the dream changed more than I thought.”
Elara’s lips twitched into a faintest ghost of a genuine smile.
“Perhaps it did.”
As their father’s guards secured the area and healers rushed forward, a fragile new thread of understanding formed between the siblings in the blood-soaked carriage.
The road ahead remained deadly, but tonight, they had survived it together.