Halfway back, the dusk of Eversong Woods settled over them like a heavy, suffocating net.
No breeze, no birdsong.
Only a stifling hush hung in the air.
Li Fan stopped abruptly without warning.
He didn’t search for footprints on the ground; relying purely on the honed instincts of living on the edge of life and death, he snapped his head up.
“Scatter.” His voice was low, carrying an indisputable chill.
Before Alleria could even speak, the bushes on both sides exploded outward.
Five Amani elites clad in heavy boiled-leather armor pressed forward like a moving iron wall, brandishing leather-bound hardwood shields.
This was no ordinary encounter; it was an Amani death-lock formation specifically tailored to butcher High Elf rangers.
Alleria launched into the air, her agile frame landing lightly on a bough of an ancient tree.
Her longbow hummed twice, two lethal streaks of light piercing the vitals of the outer two trolls with deadly accuracy.
But the remaining three trolls instantly locked their shields, shutting down her line of sight completely.
Her third heavy arrow slammed against the hard shield surface, leaving only a dull thump.
Li Fan didn’t climb a tree.
Like a shadow skimming the soil, he dived straight into the blind spot at the base of the formation.
He had no need for grand arcane magic; the rough skinning blade turned into a venomous fang beneath the dark shadows of the heavy shields.
The blade ruthlessly severed the gaps in the armor behind the trolls’ knees.
Two massive bodies crashed down one after another, shattering the ironclad formation in an instant.
The sole remaining troll flew into a rampage.
Ignoring Li Fan at its feet, it used the terrible momentum of its charge to drive its body and spear toward Alleria in midair.
The armor-piercing spear sliced through the air with a shrill screech.
Alleria spun rapidly on the bough to dodge, the tip narrowly missing her.
Yet just as she prepared to spring off the bark to counterattack, the loose metal buckle became her undoing.
The thick shaft of the spear scraped hard against the flaring buckle, showering sparks amidst a harsh metallic burst.
An irresistible force violently threw off her center of balance.
Alleria fell straight from the canopy.
Mid-fall, she gritted her teeth, her right hand still clamping the string to retaliate, but her landing posture was disastrous.
Her right knee slammed heavily into the hard mud.
The shockwave transmitted through her body instantly, the excruciating pain completely ruining her shot.
The frantic troll had already turned, sweeping its blood-scented spear wild and low toward her slender waist!
At the critical juncture, Li Fan threw himself sideways from three meters away!
Flying sideways through the air, his right hand reversed on the blade with murderous determination, he rammed the short knife deep into the gap in the troll’s neck armor!
The moment he hit the ground, his left hand slammed down to cushion the impact.
Driven by the crushing weight of the falling beast, he dragged across the mud, leaving a striking trail of crimson—forcibly carving out a safe distance between the monster and Alleria!
The massive corpse crashed to the ground.
Li Fan knelt on one knee in the mud, his chest heaving violently.
The back of his right hand had been slashed open down to the flesh by a barb on the troll’s armor, warm blood dripping into the black mud.
Without giving the wound a single glance, he pushed off the ground to stand straight, his gaze piercingly aggressive as he looked at the female elf behind him.
“Is your right knee wrecked?” Pressing her left hand to the ground, Alleria slowly pushed herself up.
Intense pain forced her sharp brows into a tight knit, but she forced her face smooth through sheer willpower.
“I can still walk,” she said coldly, an innate stubbornness lacing her voice.
Five battered corpses lay scattered across the ground.
Silence reclaimed the forest.
Evening out her ragged breathing, Alleria walked up to Li Fan.
He was unhurriedly wiping the blood from his knife with a troll’s rag.
His hands were impossibly steady, as if the desperate rescue just now had been nothing more than routine.
“That forced tackle you pulled just now,” she broke the silence, fixing her eyes on him, “was not part of our tactical plan.” “That beast’s momentum and landing angle were beyond your ability to deal with.” Li Fan didn’t even raise his head.
“How did you make that call?” Li Fan returned the clean blade to his boot sheath, drew himself tall, and met the elven woman’s eyes.
“When you fell under pressure, your right knee took the force.
Your instinct in the next second would be to steady yourself with your right hand and draw your bow with your left to counterattack.
But in the half-second blind spot when your left arm rose, the spear had enough kinetic force to shatter your spine.” He paused, his tone infuriatingly matter-of-fact.
“So I stepped in.” Alleria’s pupils contracted slightly.
Spot on.
In that life-and-death split second, her draw speed had indeed lagged by half a beat.
Her red lips twitched, but in the end, she swallowed her pride and argument.
An intense tension filled the air between them—a silent understanding forged in surviving near death.
Silence stretched for two full seconds.
“Bind the wound on the back of your right hand.
The filthy soil will cause a severe infection,” she said coolly.
“Just a scratch.
It’s fine.” “Fine doesn’t mean untended.” Alleria’s tone left no room for debate.
She turned decisively, her long legs striding forward.
The rhythm of her boots crunching on fallen leaves was half a beat faster than usual, and she didn’t look back.
Li Fan glanced down at his hand; the blood was already congealing in the cold air.
Wiping the dirt off on his trousers, he stepped out to follow.
They made their way back toward Windrunner Spire through the dusk.
Li Fan took the lead, with Alleria guarding the rear.
This protective formation was the complete reverse of their morning departure, yet neither said a word about it.
Reaching the stone tower’s doors, Alleria halted, her back to Li Fan.
The somber twilight stretched her tall shadow across the flagstones.
“The tactical suggestions you made during today’s skirmish,” she said suddenly, her voice quiet yet carrying clearly in the hollow dusk, “I’ll discuss them with the instructor team.
If they prove effective, we will integrate them into the next training session.” She paused.
“However, in the official military report, I will not mention who brought them up.” “Doesn’t matter as long as they work,” Li Fan said lazily, leaning against a stone pillar.
The wooden door swung open slowly.
In the shifting angle of the turning door, her profile was exposed for a fleeting half-second before she slipped inside.
Her cool eyes held neither anger nor gratitude—only a complex scrutiny, accompanied by a faint, barely perceptible trace of indulgence.
Before the door closed completely, she vanished into the corridor.
Li Fan stood alone in the cold wind outside, weighing the heavy black bow in his right hand.
This was a killing tool calibrated through countless desperate fights.
Behind every scratch lay a bloody tale.
Once the lingering killing intent inside him fully settled, he slung the bow across his shoulder and pushed open the tower’s side door.
The blood on the back of his right hand had dried completely, forming a thin scab.
From the far end of the hallway came low whispers of conversation, echoing softly against the stone walls.
Without even looking, he already knew whose voice it was.