NOVEL NEXT Chapter 23: Ch 22
Chapter 22: Shadows of the Eclipse
The forest clearing was bathed in an eerie, pale light, the moon filtered through a thick canopy of gnarled branches. A distant rustling of leaves echoed, a soft whisper that raised the hairs on the back of Tara's neck. The uneasy silence that followed was oppressive, as though the world itself was holding its breath. The air was thick with anticipation.
Samudra stood at the front, his hand hovering near the hilt of his blade, his body coiled with readiness. Aryan stood slightly behind him, his fan held loosely in one hand, a faint glint of ice sparkling along its edges. Tara's fingers brushed the edges of the hidden weapon tucked into her sash. Her senses were on high alert. The air itself felt... wrong.
A faint crunch of leaves snapped through the stillness, then another. The subtle rhythm of the sounds was too coordinated to be natural.
"They're here," Samudra muttered, his voice calm but with an edge of tension. He didn't need to say more. Tara could feel it—danger was closing in.
The shadows shifted.
Figures emerged from the darkness, their movements slow and deliberate, wrapped in flowing black robes that seemed to pull the light from the air. Their faces were obscured by silver masks, each etched with runes that pulsed faintly, glowing with an ominous green hue. The masks were unsettling, each one more grotesque than the last.
They didn't speak. They didn't need to. The tension in the air was enough to communicate their intent—this was an ambush.
Samudra's lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes were sharp, the fire within them flickering. "So, the game finally begins."
Without a word, the leader of the group stepped forward. The silver mask gleamed as the figure tilted their head, studying Samudra with an unsettling, almost predatory gaze.
"We've been patient," the leader's voice echoed, carrying a resonance that seemed to vibrate the very air. "But patience has its limits."
Samudra's grin widened. "I'm flattered. But you should've led with something better than vague threats."
The leader's laugh was low, dark, and filled with malice. "The pendant. Surrender it, and we might let you live."
Samudra's eyes flashed, a jolt of lightning crackling around his fingers. "You really should have tried harder than that."
---
The tension snapped like a taut bowstring.
In an instant, the Eclipse Sect's assassins were upon them, moving with inhuman speed. Their bodies blurred as they lunged forward, their attacks synchronized with terrifying precision. Tara barely had a moment to process the movement before a whip-like tendril of shadow, sharp as a blade, lashed toward her. She ducked, the dark tendril grazing her shoulder, and spun to face her attacker.
Samudra was already in motion. His sword flashed with a crack of lightning, meeting the oncoming strikes with blinding speed. Each strike of his blade left a trail of light in the air, cutting through the dense darkness with pinpoint accuracy. As one assassin lunged for him, Samudra unleashed a bolt of lightning, arcing toward the attacker and sending them flying back with a scream.
"Stay focused," Samudra called, his voice cutting through the chaos as he parried another strike.
Aryan, his fan flicking open with a sharp snap, was a blur of motion. He danced around the attackers with the fluid grace of a skilled fighter, his icy weapon cutting through the air in smooth arcs. As the assassins closed in, he summoned a burst of frost from his fan, freezing the ground beneath one of the attackers' feet, trapping them in place. With a swift motion, Aryan spun and flicked his fan, sending a shard of razor-sharp ice straight through the frozen assassin's chest.
"Not bad for a little cold breeze," Aryan quipped, his grin flashing as he darted between attacks.
Tara, her heart pounding, moved to support them. She hadn't wanted to reveal her full potential—not yet—but the stakes had changed. With a sharp intake of breath, she summoned the wind, the air around her swirling as gusts whipped into a storm. The wind howled, knocking several assassins off their feet. In the chaos, she focused on time—slowing it just enough to give Samudra and Aryan an opening.
Her hands glowed faintly as she pushed the limits of her wind and time abilities. A gust of wind tore through the clearing, blowing one assassin's attack off course, while another was sent tumbling into the shadows. Her eyes burned with concentration, but her body felt the strain.
She wasn't used to pushing herself like this, but the urgency left no room for hesitation.
---
The Eclipse Sect wasn't ordinary, and their powers were far from natural.
Tara's eyes narrowed as the forest around them began to twist. The air shimmered, and the clearing seemed to multiply, shifting into endless, identical versions of itself. Illusions. Tara's stomach dropped as she spun in place, trying to make sense of the distortion.
But she wasn't the only one affected. The assassins moved through the illusions with a practiced ease, their forms flickering in and out of existence.
"Damn it," Tara muttered, pushing through the confusion. She could feel the weight of the charm spell laced through the illusions—a melody, soft and hypnotic, curling around her mind like a seductive whisper.
She resisted it, but it was close. Too close.
Her teeth gritted as she summoned light. A flash of brilliance erupted from her hands, cutting through the illusion like a knife through fog. The shadows scattered, and the true forms of the assassins stood revealed.
But the poison elementals were another story. One of the assassins raised their hands, and a thick, green mist began to roll toward them. The toxic fog spread quickly, choking the air, and Tara's lungs burned as she tried to fight the instinct to cough.
She wasn't the only one. Aryan collapsed momentarily, his breath ragged.
She couldn't let this continue.
---
With a cry of frustration, Tara gathered her energy. Wind surged around her, swirling in tight, controlled circles as she manipulated time to freeze the moment just long enough to heal the damage. Her light element flared, the golden light spilling over Aryan's wound, knitting the torn flesh together. The energy felt foreign, like a weight in her chest, but she pushed through.
The poison mist was still thickening, but Tara didn't have time to waste. With a sharp exhale, she extended her hands, releasing a blast of wind that blew the mist away, clearing the area enough for them to breathe.
Samudra saw the opening and moved with deadly precision. Lightning crackled at the edge of his blade, and in a single motion, he cleaved through one of the assassins, sending the others scattering.
"Focus, Tara," Samudra shouted, his voice laced with urgency. "They're not done yet."
---
The battle wasn't over.
Despite their efforts, the assassins regrouped quickly, their leader's voice echoing from the distance. "You can't run forever, Crown Prince."
But Samudra wasn't about to let them win. His gaze flickered around, searching for an escape. He spotted the ridge ahead—a treacherous path, but it was their only chance.
"This way!" he ordered, his voice sharp as he led them toward the ridge.
With the assassins on their tail, Samudra made a split-second decision. He brought his sword down hard, striking the base of the ridge with enough force to trigger a small landslide. Rocks tumbled down, blocking the path behind them and forcing the assassins to slow their pursuit.
"Move!" Samudra barked, his voice commanding as he led them deeper into the forest.
---
The ground beneath them gave way, and they tumbled into a hidden cavern, the fall jarring and painful. Tara gasped for air as she pushed herself to her feet, looking around.
The cavern was dimly lit by faintly glowing crystals, casting long shadows on the walls. Aryan was still on the ground, breathing heavily, clutching his side.
Samudra knelt beside him, his face grim. "You'll live," he muttered, though his voice betrayed the concern he was trying to mask.
Tara placed her hands over Aryan's wound again, channeling her light energy to heal him, the golden glow enveloping his form.
---
As they paused to catch their breath, Samudra leaned back, his expression darkening. "This attack wasn't random," he muttered, his eyes distant. "It's Kacha Gupta. My stepbrother."
Tara's heart skipped a beat. The name struck her like a bolt of lightning.
Kacha Gupta.
Samudra's stepbrother.
The realization hit her hard, but Samudra's next words were even heavier.
"He won't stop until I'm dead."
---
The cavern grew still, save for the faint drip of water from the ceiling. Tara, Samudra, and Aryan sat in the dim glow, their thoughts heavy with the weight of the battle—and the knowledge that the true fight was just beginning.