At first, Aeron assumed the demons were chasing them blindly, but the farther they went, the more obvious it became that something was wrong. The creatures were not simply running after them.

They were funnelling them. Every time the group tried to angle away from the marked route, more demons appeared from the sides, forcing them back toward the deeper path.

Every attempt to slow down was answered by a sudden attack. Every retreating movement was punished.

Zenovia noticed it too.

"They’re guiding us."

Aeron’s face darkened. "So we’re walking into a trap."

"Yes, probably."

"And we’re still going anyway?"

"Yes."

He glanced toward her. "You know, when you say things like that so calmly, I start wondering if Elion has been a bad influence on you."

Zenovia did not answer, but the faint curve at the corner of her mouth told him she had heard.

The path dipped suddenly.

They slid down a steep slope covered in damp leaves and exposed roots, their boots and robes scraping against mud as they descended into a narrow ravine.

The walls rose high on either side, lined with twisted roots and hanging moss. The air below was colder and wetter, and the pungent smell of corruption grew stronger here, a bitter rot that clung to the back of the throat.

Irel stopped abruptly at the bottom, raising a fist.

Everyone halted at the signal. For a moment, only their breathing could be heard, and then a low, deep pulse suddenly echoed around them, like the heartbeat of something buried beneath the earth.

Darin’s expression changed. "Mana fluctuation."

Zenovia crouched and pressed two fingers against the ground. "I’m assuming that was not a natural reaction from the forest?"

Aeron looked down the ravine. The path ahead curved between two massive roots that had grown across the walls like an archway. Beyond them, a faint red glow flickered against the stone.

"Well," he said quietly, "that looks ominous."

One of the soldiers swallowed. "Should we send word back?"

"We need to see what it is first, but yes, we can let the others head back," Zenovia said as she looked back at the small group, "You can go too, Aeron. If things get dangerous, it will be easy for me to escape if I’m alone."

Aeron shook his head, "We already went through this back at camp, we won’t leave you alone, even though you ’work better alone’ as you said, it is safer for us to stay together, and what if we get attacked on our way back? Surely you don’t think those demons simply decided to stop chasing us? They are probably waiting to jump us. At this point, we might as well stick together and hope for the best, and that we can handle whatever this ominous trap throws at us."

The others nodded in agreement at his reasonable assessment.

"He is right, you know?" Darin chimed in.

Zenovia sighed. "I hate when you people choose to walk into danger with all these clear signs right before us. Suit yourselves, I guess." She shrugged, "Your lives are your own to play with."

"Hey now, don’t say something so ominous out of nowhere!" Aeron protested.

They advanced more carefully now, but no one spoke a word.

Even Aeron kept his mouth shut, which said more about the tension than anything else could have.

The red light grew brighter with every step, pulsing in time with that deep, unnatural heartbeat. The ravine widened gradually, the walls spreading apart until the narrow passage finally opened into a vast hollow hidden beneath the roots of the Great Forest.

And there they saw a formation. However, calling it a formation was taking it too lightly.

It was a massive ritual array carved into the earth, stretching across the entire hollow in layers of glowing demonic script. Black stones stood at several points around the circle, each one wrapped in chains made of bone and metal, and at the centre of it all was a giant portal.

It was already formed and open.

It hung in the air like a wound torn through the world, its edges were jagged and pulsing crimson, while the space inside churned with black fire and distorted shadows.

For a few seconds, none of them moved, but it wasn’t long before the first demon stepped through.

Its singular, eerie presence was quickly accompanied by another of its kind, then ten more, and then ten became dozens.

They poured from the portal in disciplined lines, armed and armoured, their bodies larger and more refined than the scattered creatures they had been fighting in the forest.

These were not raiders; these looked like actual soldiers. Demonic infantry marched out in rows, carrying black spears, hooked blades, tower shields made of bone, and banners marked with burning symbols.

Behind them came hulking brutes dragging siege hooks and chains, then leaner demons with twisted bows carved from something that looked like it was alive.

Aeron felt his stomach clench. The three human soldiers behind him went completely still. Darin’s face lost all colour.

Irel whispered something in Elvish under her breath. Zenovia’s expression became colder than Aeron had ever seen it.

"Well... Shit, this clearly turned out to be much bigger than we all thought," Darin said softly.

Before anyone could respond, three figures floated through the portal; however, unlike the hundreds that had come before them, this trio did not walk.

They hovered above the ground, robes of dark red and black fluttering around them, though there was no wind.

Their bodies were thin, almost skeletal, with long horns curling backward from their skulls and eyes burning like coals beneath shadowed brows.

Each of them carried a staff crowned with a different twisted symbol, and the moment they emerged, the entire formation array brightened beneath them.

A wave of heavy pressure rolled outward a second later. Aeron’s muscles locked for half a breath before he forced himself to breathe through it.

’They are floating!?’

The thought hit everyone at once. They were flying without wings to keep them in the air.

Neither were they hovering through some simple trick, or standing on a platform of mana. They floated as naturally as a person standing upright.

Which meant one thing.

’Archmage level demons!?’

Or perhaps, even higher.

One of the soldiers beside Darin took a step back without realising it. His heel snapped a twig.

Crack!

The sound was tiny, but in that massive hollow, filled with demons and a possible trio of commander-level demons, it might as well have been a roar of thunder.

One of the floating demon mages slowly turned its head, its burning eyes fixed directly toward the shadows where Aeron and the others were hidden.

Zenovia felt her body grow cold as her hand tightened around her dagger. Darin’s lips parted as though he wanted to give an order, but no words came out of his dry mouth.

More demons continued pouring through the portal. Dozens becoming hundreds.

The formation pulsed again, and the forest above groaned as if the roots themselves were trying to resist what had been carved beneath them.

With trembling eyes, Aeron stared at the portal, at the arm, at the three floating demon mages, and at the sheer scale of what had already begun beneath everyone’s noses.

Only then did the full weight of it sink in.

This was something far bigger, far worse than they had all initially thought.

And death... Death was very, very close.

Aeron swallowed slowly, his usual kind smile gone from his face completely.

"Oh..."

His voice came out barely above a whisper.

"My..."

The portal flared brighter as another wave of demons marched through.

"God."

The demon mage’s burning eyes were still locked onto the shadows where Aeron and the others were hidden.

For one terribly long second, no one moved.

Until Zenovia hissed, "Run."

That single word broke the spell.

Darin turned first, already pulling a signal flare from his pouch, but before he could activate it, one of the floating demon mages raised a single finger. A thin line of black light cut through the hollow with terrifying speed.

Darin’s hand fell away from his wrist. The signal flare dropped soundlessly into the dirt.

He stared at the missing hand for half a heartbeat before the pain reached him, and then he screamed.

"Darin!" Aeron shouted.

The hollow erupted.

Demons surged toward them like a black tide, their disciplined lines breaking into a sudden swarm as the three floating mages calmly watched from the centre of the formation.

Zenovia quickly threw three daggers in quick succession, each one finding a throat, an eye, or the gap beneath a demon’s jaw.

Irel and the other elven scout loosed arrows so quickly their bowstrings became a blur, while the three human soldiers formed a rough line in front of Darin, trying to buy him enough time to recover.

Aeron charged forward.

His blade came down like a falling pillar, smashing the first demon into the ground and sending cracks racing through the stone beneath it. He twisted, kicked another back, and swept his weapon in a wide arc that forced the front line to hesitate for half a second.

Half a second was all they got.