As they neared the forest, both brothers sensed a disturbance—a group of men moving toward the forest from the opposite direction.
"I don't like this," Kaizen said, narrowing his eyes. "I don't believe these men are here for a stroll."
Noir's hand went to his katana, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "I'll have them dealt with." He raised his hand, about to signal his men to strike, when Zuka moved quickly, clamping a hand over Noir's mouth.
"Wait, idiot, think before you act." Zuka hissed. "That might be our only clue."
Noir glared at his brother but lowered his hand. "Then what do you have in mind…"
Zuka thought for a few seconds and turned to the men. "Men, descend to the ground. Split into groups of five," he commanded, his voice calm but firm. "When we reach the where the refugees are, form a pentagon barrier around the land. We need to contain them before they cause any harm. Do not let yourself be seen."
The Vanguard nodded in unison and moved into formation, their movements swift and precise as they closed in on the forest's edge. Shadows stretched across the twisted trees, the waning light casting an eerie glow over the looming expanse.
Zuka and Noir descended in silence, their wings folding smoothly behind them as their boots met the forest floor. The air was damp and heavy, rich with the scent of moss and soil.
As the mysterious group reached the forest, chaos exploded like wildfire. The attackers surged forward into the refugee camp, blades drawn, voices raised in wordless rage. Screams tore through the woods, mingling with the sound of splintering wood, clashing steel, and panicked cries.
But not all the refugees attempted to flee
A few stood their ground—beastmen among them—snarling, eyes wild, their bodies bristling with raw power. One stepped forward, baring fangs. "Everyone else—get to safety!" he roared. "We'll try to hold them!"
A sword came flashing toward him, the steel singing through the air. He twisted at the last second, the blade grazing his cheek. Blood welled for only a moment before his skin knit itself back together. He caught the weapon with both hands, tried to snap it—but its enchanted edge bit into his palms. Snarling, he kicked his attacker square in the gut, flipping behind him in one smooth motion and locking in a rare naked choke.
Another enemy came rushing to strike him while he held the first—blade aimed for the ribs.
But before the blow could land, another beastman blurred into view. With a furious roar, he drove a fist into the side of the ambusher's face, sending him crashing into a tree with a sickening thud.
The forest was alive now—with violence, with defiance. The hunted had become hunters.
"Now," Zuka ordered, his voice cutting through the panic. The Vanguard, in their groups of five, positioned themselves around the camp and raised their hands, shouting in unison.
"Barrier, Pentagramma Aegis: Fivefold!" they chanted. A shimmering, five-pointed barrier formed around the camp, trapping the attackers inside.
Noir stepped forward, a glint of anticipation igniting in his blood-red eyes. With a fluid motion, he unsheathed his katana, the blade catching the faint light and reflecting it in a sinister gleam. "Watashi wa yami o yobi, watashi no katana o nurimasu," he murmured, his voice low and resonant as dark magic pulsed along the blade's edge.
In the blink of an eye, he was among the attackers, a streak of shadow and steel. The air seemed to ripple with his movements, too fast to follow. One by one, the men crumpled to the ground, their weapons clattering uselessly beside them.
By the time the final body fell, Noir stood at the center of the devastation, his katana dripping with dark energy, the eerie silence a testament to his ruthless efficiency.
Noir stood over them, his blade resting lazily at his side, dripping with power. He glanced at one of the men, his usual grin replaced by a cold, hard look. "Now," he said, voice dripping with malice, "what are you bastards doing here?"
The men, beaten and bloody, said nothing, their eyes filled with fear. Noir sighed, shaking his head. He grabbed one of the men by the hand and, with a quick flick of his katana, sliced off one of his fingers.
The man howled in pain, clutching his hand as blood poured from the wound.
"I'm only going to ask," Noir said, his voice chillingly calm, "nine more times."
The camp was silent, thick with tension. Zuka's golden eyes bore into the man crumpled before him. Growing impatient, he grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him up effortlessly.
"If you don't tell me who you are and why you are here," Zuka's voice was cold, and dangerous, "I'll make sure your death takes days. And that you feel every second"
The man gasped, terror filling his eyes. "F-Fine! We'll talk!"
Before he could continue, Noir, stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "Who hired you?" he asked, his voice soft but filled with threat.
"We don't know!" the man stammered.
Noir chuckled, leaning in close. "Really?" he said, his smirk widening. "Shall I jog your memory?"
"Fine!" the man blurted, his voice trembling with fear. "We were approached by two men. One was human, the other seemed like a vampire. They said their slaves had escaped. That's all we know!"
Noir's grin widened, though his eyes darkened. "Where did they find you?"
"We were in Jordan, a human nation," the man replied quickly. "They offered us five thousand gold pieces to capture the slaves."
Zuka, still gripping the man, pressed on. "Describe them. What did they look like?"
The man swallowed, his voice shaking. "The vampire wore a hood, so I didn't see much of his face, but he had black hair. The human had light yellow hair and wore a purple robe. They… they moved like nobles."
Zuka released the man, turning to his captain. "Kaizen, take them to the palace prison. Have them dealt with."
Kaizen bowed deeply. "Yes, my lord."