CHAPTER 8. WHISPERS BEFORE THE STORM

The massive raider swung one of his glowing axes in a wide, brutal arc, aiming for Zephyr's gut.

The wall beside them crumbling from sheer shockwave of the attack, creating a heavy dust cloud.

And yet—Zephyr stood there, hands in his pockets, untouched.

The raider squinted through the dust, confused. It looked like the weapon had cleaved straight through him.

Zephyr hadn't moved an inch... or so it seemed.

In truth, he had vanished a split second before impact, only to reappear in the exact same spot—just a flicker in space.

The raider snarled in frustration and raised both axes, veins bulging as he brought them crashing down from above.

Zephyr’s eyes narrowed, lips twitching into a sharp grin.

“You're wide open.”

With a whisper of wind, he vanished, reappearing close up —SPIRIT DRIVE building around his hand in a dense spiral of air that cracked with power.

The raider barely had time to react, twisting with both axes up to block—

But Zephyr was no longer in front of him.

Crack!

The raiders eye snapped, almost blacking out, as a spinning kick slammed into his face from the side, sending him crashing backward like a wrecking ball had hit him. His massive frame bounced once, twice, before sliding to a stop.

The other raiders, startled, exchanged glances—then scowled.

“He’s fast,” one of them muttered.

Another scoffed. “He’s still just one guy.”

Without hesitation, he surged forward.

The first took a deep breath and unleashed a roaring fireball, the heat blistering the ground as it raced toward Zephyr.

But the moment it neared him—it just blinked out. Snuffed like a candle.

The second raider leapt from above with immense speed, dagger raised high, aiming to pierce Zephyr’s skull.

Zephyr eyes trailed his movements steadily.

He leaned back, just a breath, dodging the attack with effortless precision.

The attacker slammed into the ground, carving a shallow crater beneath his feet. As he turned his head toward Zephyr in disbelief—

He froze.

His eyes widened.

He could feel it—the wind around him thickening, pressing against his skin like invisible walls, slowing time itself.

Before he could react, Zephyr lifted a single hand, swaying it to the side.

Wham!

A violent gust slammed into the raider's body, hurling him like a ragdoll. He crashed into a nearby wall with a deafening crack and dropped limp to the ground, unconscious before he hit the floor.

The flame-wielder wasn’t done. He launched in with his leg engulfed in roaring fire, spinning through the air like a burning wheel.

As he dropped, the flames coiled around him into a massive ring of fire, casting shadows that danced wildly across the ground.

The heat bent the air itself.

Zephyr’s gaze followed the motion—calm, curious. At the last moment, he raised his hand—

And caught the raider’s flaming leg in his palm.

The fire rippled out, shattered, dispersed instantly as if the air refused to carry it.

The raider’s eyes widened in shock.

And then—Zephyr vanished.

The flame raider hung in the air for a moment—arms out, blinking in confusion as he hovered mid air, no longer sure what was up or down.

Zephyr reappeared behind him.

One clean kick to the back, sent the raider flying.

But as his body spiraled toward a nearby house, Zephyr’s gaze snapped up, just in time to see it stop midair.

Frozen.

The raider hung there, unconscious, hovering.

Zephyr’s expression flickered with curiosity. He turned—and saw Damon still flat on the ground, one hand raised lazily, eyes faintly glowing like twin suns under a moonless sky.

Damon blinked, realizing Zephyr was looking at him.

Their eyes met.

Zephyr smiled—genuine, rare.

Damon’s cheeks flushed lightly, eyes widening, before he looked away, pretending to focus on something else.

Zephyr turned back to the raiders, his voice low and unbothered.

“Two down... two to go.”

Behind him, the massive raider began to rise again—eyes blazing with fury.

Groaning, the brute rose to his feet, his eyes burning with rage. Blood dripped from his body, yet his grip on his twin axes tightened like iron.

With a thunderous roar, he charged again, swinging both weapons wildly in wide, brutal arcs.

Zephyr’s eyes trailed the motion, serene and unreadable, each movement leaving behind shimmers of light.

He weaved between the strikes effortlessly, his feet gliding back, dodging blow after blow. Though pushed, he remained untouched.

Then—his instincts screamed.

Behind you.

With a fluid twist mid-air, Zephyr spun just in time as spear-like chains erupted from the ground, racing toward his back like snakes.

He swept his hand in a graceful arc, and the wind howled in response—redirecting the chains with surgical precision. One by one, they spun mid-flight and slammed into the massive raider's chest.

The brute staggered.

He dropped to one knee, both axes clattering to the ground with a metallic thud as blood streamed down from fresh wounds piercing his torso.

Zephyr teleported a few paces back, landing lightly and offering a small, amused smile.

But then—snap.

The raider’s eyes snapped open.

With a defiant growl, he reached up and ripped the embedded chains from his body with raw, snarling force. Muscles trembling, he seized his weapons once more and roared, louder this time.

From within the houses, villagers huddled together, pressing against each other, hearts pounding. They had no idea what was unfolding just outside their doors.

Zephyr’s gaze softened, almost impressed.

“You’re even more resilient than I thought.”

Just as he began to step forward—

Whip!

Another chain spear shot from the side, aimed directly at Zephyr’s head.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.

A flick of his wrist—and the air cracked. The chain was deflected effortlessly, spinning off course and embedding into the ground with a dull thunk.

“Ah, quick, are we?”

The voice came low, amused.

The chain raider stepped forward, his posture relaxed but deliberate. Behind him, the massive brute loomed silently, blood still dripping down his frame.

Zephyr kept his gaze steady, offering no reply.

“You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?”

The raider lowered his hood.

He was slender and tall— standing at 176 centimeters. His fair skin shimmered like polished ivory beneath the moonlight. Golden hair flowed down to his waist, catching silver strands of starlight. His gray eyes shimmered—not cold, not warm, just distant. Eternal.

Pointed ears marked him clearly.

An elf.

“Taking out two of mine in one blow? Impressive,” he said with a crooked smirk. “But if you thought the rest of us would fall just as easily… the villagers could’ve handled this raid without breaking a sweat.”

He ran a hand through his cascading hair with theatrical flair.

Zephyr arched an eyebrow, pulling his own hair, back, with a faint grin.

“You got me there. Looks like I’ll have to actually try now.”

A pulse surged through the air—subtle, but heavy.

The elf smiled knowingly.

“Ah… and there he is. Finally decided to join us, huh?”

Zephyr’s eyes flinched for a split second.

Damon's eyes glowed out of sheer instinct, reacting to something primal in the air.

Inside the house, Gwen’s lips curled into a smile.

Neither Zephyr nor Damon had sensed the arrival. Not even Damon, with his acute spatial awareness. But Gwen smiled… because now she could fight.

From behind them, a calm voice spoke.

“You talk too much.”

Footsteps approached. Measured. Fluid.

The man stepped into view, placing a hand gently over his chest and offering Zephyr a polite bow.

“You are strong. Truly. I’ll give you that,” he said, his tone smooth and dignified. “Those two are nothing but reckless bastards. Always staring fights. Messing around. Doing dumb shit with women.”

He sighed, clearly irritated.

“I won’t deny them their fun, but it was getting out of control.”

He looked up, expression sharpening.

“At first, I questioned why the boss would send Elrond and I along with Thran—for a place like this. A backwater compound.”

He glanced around the place.

“And he calls it a village. How unsightly.”

A short pause. He exhaled sharply.

“Still… I suppose the boss had foresight. I doubt you were here during the last raids. But now—”

His words cut off mid-sentence.

A blur of movement, a streak of emerald and crimson.

His arms snapped up just in time to block a sudden strike—a fist cloaked in Green-hot energy colliding against his guard, blasting like a cannon through the clearing and sending him skidding backward across the ground.

Dust rippled in the air.

He stopped, boots digging into the dirt, eyes wide.

“You talk too much." came Gwen’s voice, calm but laced with fire.

She stood a few feet away, her body coiled like a spring, hair drifting like embers in the wind.

“Hey, bud out,” Zephyr said to Gwen.

Gwen turned her face slightly, ignoring him. “I won’t.”

Ladrel snickered. “Rude, I’d say.”

Damon’s voice echoed from the side. “You’ll regret blocking that.”

Gwen smiled, proud of herself.

Zephyr glanced at Damon. “Not you too, moron.”

“Sorry,” Damon laughed awkwardly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Ladrel’s eyes began to glow—a haunting blue under the shadow of his hood. Instantly, swords materialized around him, dozens of them, rotating wide in an eerie halo.

The wind surged, lifting the edge of his hood just enough to reveal his face. He looked strikingly similar to Elrond—same elegance, same sharpness—but with cold, piercing blue eyes.

A sharp smirk tugged at Ladrel’s lips as his feet left the ground, levitating effortlessly.

“It’s not safe here,” Damon whispered, scanning the battlefield.

Just then, Thran ripped off his hood—revealing his full form. Half-man, half-bull. A hulking Minotaur, all muscle and menace, snorting steam from his nostrils.

“It’s going to be hard,” Gwen whispered, “fighting and protecting the villagers at the same time.”

“I guess we’ll just have to be careful, then.” Zephyr smiled calmly. “Let’s begin.”

He took a fighting stance.

In an instant, twin daggers formed in his hands—crafted entirely of wind. From hilt to tip, they shimmered with silver-white energy, almost transparent, yet sharp enough to hum in the air. Each blade curved slightly like a crescent moon, sleek and deadly, measuring about 50 centimeters in length.

Damon’s silver eyes flared—glowing with instinct, danger, and the thrill of battle.

“Shall we?” Ladrel smiled.

The swords halted mid-air for a heartbeat, then shot toward the trio like missiles. A dense cloud of dust erupted from the impact—only to settle and reveal them untouched, not a scratch among them.

Zephyr flashed behind Ladrel, his blade sweeping in a wide arc. A sword materialized just in time to intercept the strike, the clash sending sparks flying as wind collided with steel.

Ladrel spun sharply, conjuring another sword in his grip and lunged forward. Zephyr met it with a sudden burst of wind, the sheer force pushing Ladrel downward.

Without pause, Zephyr unleashed a relentless barrage of crescent-shaped blades of wind through the air.

Each moving at an unimaginable speed.

Thran lunged in, intercepting the attack with both his axes, but his eyes suddenly flicked left—Gwen appeared like a phantom, her fist already swinging. The punch landed square on his jaw, sending him flying forward.

Elrond snarled and charged. With a sharp gesture, chain-spears shot from behind Gwen, arcing toward her exposed back.

But Damon dropped in between them, encased in a sphere of pale blue energy. The spears shattered on contact, falling harmlessly to the ground.

"Force field, eh," Elrond muttered, lips curling into a crooked grin.

"Don’t lose focus." Zephyr’s voice came low, and he blinked beside Elrond, blade twisting into a reverse grip. He slashed across—just grazing—as Elrond's chain yanked him out of reach.

Ladrel lashed out, hurling a wave of conjured swords at Damon and Gwen. Damon’s eyes gleamed. Instantly, the blades froze mid-flight, hanging in the air as if caught in a thought.

Then, in an instant, they turned and shot back at Ladrel but vanished just inches from impact.

"Those are mine, you bastard," Ladrel spat.

Grabbing another blade from mid—creation, he blinked—reappearing before Damon. Damon smiled, calm and ready to counter, as the wind blew both their hair back.

But before either could move, Gwen’s fist and Zephyr’s blade closed in like twin fangs. Ladrel vanished again, barely evading the pincer with a burst of supernatural speed.

Damon's gaze swept the ruined environment, sensing the danger growing too close to the nearby homes. He raised his left hand.

In a silent pulse, the battlefield shifted.

The six of them were suddenly enclosed—surrounded by a massive translucent blue cube. The space inside was wide, more than enough for the fight, but no longer threatening the village.

Elrond hissed and sent a swarm of chain spears barreling toward them. Damon raised his hand and the ground answered—the earth rising like a wall. The chains punched through but lost momentum, falling just short.

Damon made a small motion. The wall broke loose and hurtled toward Elrond like a battering ram.

Thran stepped in, cleaving the stone wall cleanly in two—only to find Damon up close, his eyes pulsating with energy.

The broken halves immediately hovered, trembling midair, it shattered into countless jagged shards.

With a flick of his hand, Damon hurled them all, piercing Thran from every direction.

Thran growled, blood streaking down his arms as his strength faltered. Still, he roared and raised his axe for a final crushing blow.

But Damon only smiled and the shards embedded in Thran suddenly spun—violently.

Then, one by one, they burst out the other side of him.

Thran froze mid-swing, strength draining, and dropped to one knee—then collapsed entirely.

Chain-spears lashed out from behind him, streaking toward Damon. Damon leaped back immediately but the chains were too fast, almost impossible to react to.

But Zephyr blinked in front just in time, his blades of wind carving through the chains with precise, effortless slashes.

At the same moment, Gwen closed in on Eldron—but Ladrel intercepted. His fist pulsed with crackling energy as he swung at her. Gwen’s eyes snapped forward—arms crossing just in time. The blow hit hard, sending her skidding back.

“I don’t think the big guy’s getting back up,” her eyes narrowed slightly as Thran slumped, unconscious.

As all three were ready to jump in again, Ladrel voice echoed.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to put this battle on pause."

"Whaaaat." Gwen exclaimed.

A portal opened beneath him and his comrades.

“I’m sure it won’t be long before we meet again.”

And with that, the three vanished into the portal.

“Oh, come on,” Gwen groaned. “Just when it was getting fun.”

The massive blue cube dissolved around them.

Zephyr walked over to the downed Flame Raider and knelt, grabbing his collar.

“We’ll get our answers when they wake up,” Zephyr muttered with a tired sigh.

. . . . .

Morning came. The village stirred.

One by one, the villagers emerged from their homes, blinking at the wreckage—but to their shock, not a single building had been touched. Outside, the trio still sat, keeping watch.

They waited, just in case the raiders returned.

The flame raider and his companion lay tied up nearby.

Selune appeared from behind, followed by Velira, Myrren and Lori.

The three sisters rushed forward, throwing their arms around Damon and Gwen's leg in a tight embrace.

“Thank you,” Selune whispered, nodding at them from afar.

“Don’t thank us yet. It’s definetly far from over,” Zephyr said, glancing warily at the unconscious captives.

“Don’t be a sourpuss, Zephyr,” Gwen said, giving him a playful chop on the head.

Just then, the flame raider and his companion stirred. Their eyes flickered open.

Zephyr approached, squatting at their level with a calm, gentle smile.

“I have an offer for you two,” he said.

The two raiders swallowed hard, eyes trembling.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Bye-bye!” Velira and her sisters waved as the trio departed from the village—this time with the raiders in tow.

“Come back soon!” Myrren called.

“We promise!” Gwen waved back cheerfully.

In front of them, the two raiders exchanged glances and dark smiles.

Who do these people think they are, smiling like that? They’d be dead in seconds if they stepped into our hideout. Taking us down was one thing—but if they think they can take out our boss? They’re dreaming.

Their thoughts flashed back...

---

“I have an offer for you two,” Zephyr had said, squatting down at their level, still smiling with unsettling ease.

“You take us to your hideout, and we won’t hurt you.” He rolled his eyes sideways. “Probably.”

“What?” the flame raider muttered, confused.

“You heard me,” Zephyr said, shrugging. “Guide us in, and maybe you live.”

Who does this guy think he is? the raider thought. If we lead them to the hideout, they’ll be slaughtered. They have no idea what they’re walking into.

Then realization hit him and he smirked inwardly.

“We have a deal,” he said aloud.

---

Later, as Damon prepared to leave, a small tug at his trouser hem made him turn. Lori looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“Are you leaving?” she asked softly.

“We’ll come back soon. I promise,” Damon smiled. “And with lots of food, too.”

Her eyes lit up. “You really mean it?”

Damon nodded.

“Pinky promise,” she said, lifting her tiny pinky.

Damon crouched down, linking his with hers.

“I promise.”

............

The present......

The five of them began their journey, after a while, Gwen spoke, breaking the silence.

"This is taking forever, why can't they use the portal thingy, that the others used."

"Oh, we're almost there, just a little more." The flame raider spoke.

They eventually came out of the forest, and further, they came across a ruin.

"Wait, we didn't move through the mist." Damon thought. "Maybe it's only seen when getting into their village.

Reaching a dead end in the ruins.

"Shall we." The flame raider gestured.

"But it's a dead end." Gwen pointed out.

"You sure." The flame raider responded as he stepped through.

"Another mist, huh." Zephyr smiled.

And then the three of them stepped through.