The scene unfolded as a brutal ballet of destruction. Pyrrhus, flung through the dense forest like a discarded doll, crashed against ancient trees, the force jarring his already battered body.

  His right arm, despite the lingering warmth of the Vitality Potion and the Enhancium's surge of power, hung uselessly, a mangled testament to Lapith's Bane's might.

  His silver and black armor with a pink glow of his barrier armor flickered erratically, cracks spider webbing across its surface, a death knell to his defenses.

  Lapith's Bane, a relentless engine of destruction, pursued Pyrrhus with chilling efficiency. His mace, stained with the blood of countless foes, swung with terrifying force, each blow threatening to crush Pyrrhus into oblivion.

  The forest floor became a ravaged testament to their battle, trees splintered, earth torn asunder, the very air thick with the scent of pine and spilled blood.

  Pyrrhus, his arrogance barely masking the fear that clawed at his throat, struggled to his feet. "By the gods..." he gasped, his voice ragged and strained. "This... this isn't possible. I am Pyrrhus!"

  He swung his functional arm wildly, the once-precise strikes now desperate and clumsy, fueled by a cocktail of pain and disbelief.

  Lapith's Bane halted, his massive form casting a long, ominous shadow over the fallen warrior. His voice, when it came, was a low rumble, devoid of any warmth or empathy, yet laced with a chillingly smooth cadence. "It was inevitable, Pyrrhus. Your pride blinded you to the truth."

  Pyrrhus, fueled by a desperate defiance, snarled, "Pride? I am strength! I am power!" He lunged forward, his movements clumsy and desperate, his functional arm swinging wildly, the energy crackling off his failing armor in erratic bursts.

  Lapith's Bane met his attack with a chilling calm, his eyes burning with an unnerving intensity. He parried Pyrrhus's blows with effortless ease, his mace a whirlwind of deadly grace, a dance of death.

  "You mistake arrogance for strength," he said, his voice laced with a hint of... pity? "I offered you a chance, Pyrrhus. A chance for glory, a place beside me."

  Pyrrhus, his breath coming in ragged gasps, stumbled back, his eyes wide with a growing realization of his impending doom. "Glory? You don't know glory. This... this slaughter... There's nothing glorious about it!"

  Lapith's Bane's eyes, burning with an unnerving intensity, fixed on Pyrrhus. A subtle, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips, a chillingly serene expression. "This is the consequence of your choices.

  You sought to challenge me, and now you face the consequences. But even in this, I offer a twisted form of... forgiveness. You fought bravely, in your own foolish way."

  The fight resumed, a desperate dance of futility. Pyrrhus, fueled by adrenaline and rage, threw himself at Lapith's Bane, his attacks growing wilder, his defenses crumbling, the ultraviolet glow of his armor fading with each impact, like a dying star.

  Lapith's Bane, in contrast, fought with a calculated precision, each blow measured, each parry deliberate, the smile on his face growing more pronounced, a predator toying with its prey.

  Pyrrhus cried out as Lapith's Bane's mace connected with his chest, dealing a brutal 15 damage, the force sending him flying. He crashed against a gnarled tree, his armor dented and cracked, his body a broken mess.

  After this constant onslaught, his health had plummeted from 80HP to a precarious 10.

  His armor, though magically designed to resist such heavy attacks, could only withstand so much. It was cracking, the magic within it waning with each impact. Without repair, Pyrrhus felt every blow with increasing intensity.

  He struggled to breathe, his lungs burning, his vision blurring at the edges.

  Just as Lapith's Bane raised his mace for the final blow, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light, a figure emerged from the shadows. Xiao Ling, his lunar twins flashing like shards of moonlight, moved with blinding speed, intercepting the attack.

  The clash of blades against mace echoed through the forest, a resounding clang that momentarily halted the impending doom, the prelude to a new confrontation."

  Xiao Ling's lunar twins clashed against Lapith's Bane's mace, the impact echoing through the forest like a thunderclap.

  The dark energy of the blades met the radiant light of the mace, a visual spectacle of opposing forces. For a moment, the two warriors were locked in a stalemate, a brief pause in the relentless onslaught.

  But Xiao Ling, despite his renowned skill, was visibly stunned. His eyes darted across Lapith's Bane's massive form, wide with disbelief and a hint of confusion.

  The damage he had inflicted moments ago was gone, utterly vanished. It was as if the centaur warlord had shed his skin, emerging unscathed, a terrifying display of resilience.

  Xiao Ling struggled to comprehend the phenomenon, his mind racing to find a weakness, a vulnerability.

  Lapith's Bane, his voice a low, inviting rumble that sent shivers down the spine, broke the silence. "So, you came back for more, bounty hunter? Just in time."

  There was a chilling amusement in his tone, a predator relishing the challenge, the hunt.

  Without warning, Lapith's Bane lunged, his arm a blur of motion, his claws extended, aiming to rake across Xiao Ling's chest. But the bounty hunter was prepared.

  He dodged with practiced ease, his body twisting and contorting, avoiding the deadly strike by a hair's breadth, a dance of death.

  Lapith's Bane pressed his attack, his mace a whirlwind of light and force, a relentless bombardment that forced Xiao Ling to retreat. But the bounty hunter didn't engage in a direct confrontation.

  He used his agility and speed to his advantage, leaping onto the nearest tree and scaling its trunk with astonishing speed, a shadow in the dappled light.

  Lapith's Bane watched him, his eyes narrowing, his initial amusement fading into something more predatory. The centaur warlord began his pursuit of the bounty hunter, swinging his mace at the base of each tree, slaughtering them with a single, devastating strike.

  But as he struck, Xiao Ling would hop to another, like a squirrel leaping from branch to branch, his movements fluid and unpredictable.

  Then, in a calculated move, Lapith's Bane feigned an attack on a tree. Just as Xiao Ling leapt towards it, Lapith's Bane hurled his mace with incredible force, not at the tree, but at the one Xiao Ling was approaching.

  The tree shattered, its trunk splintering, and fell, taking Xiao Ling by surprise mid-leap. The bounty hunter crashed to the ground, the impact jarring his bones.

  Seizing this opportunity, Lapith's Bane, momentarily without his mace, lunged at Xiao Ling, his sharp claws extended, attempting to gouge the bounty hunter. The centaur warlord intended to dig his deadly claws into Xiao Ling's skin.

  The bounty hunter, agile despite the fall, scrambled back, avoiding Lapith's Bane's claws by a hair's breadth. Lapith's Bane pressed his advantage, attempting to strike again, but Xiao Ling deflected the blow with his lunar twins.

  However, as Xiao Ling attempted to counter, Lapith's Bane grabbed the lunar twins right in front of him, unfazed by the daggers touching his skin.

  Xiao Ling tried to punch Lapith's Bane, but his fist bounced off the centaur warlord's skin as if it were protected by an unseen force.

  Seeing this opportunity, Lapith's Bane tried to scratch at Xiao Ling once more, but Xiao Ling kicked the hand out of his way and hopped back onto another tree before Lapith's Bane could charge and plow his claws into his back. Xiao Ling retreated into the branches, his breath coming in ragged bursts.

  He realized Lapith's Bane's strategy: avoidance. Every time the centaur warlord pressed his attack, the bounty hunter would disengage, utilizing the environment to his advantage. It was a frustratingly effective tactic.

  Meanwhile, in the shadows, Matt and Pat, their faces pale with terror, were dragging the unconscious Pyrrhus away from the battle. Their movements were jerky and hesitant, their eyes constantly darting towards Lapith's Bane, fearing his attention.

  Lapith's Bane, however, was focused on his elusive prey. But then, he saw an opportunity. With a swift, powerful leap, he attempted to intercept Matt and Pat, his mace raised to deliver a devastating blow.

  But Xiao Ling, anticipating the move, seized his chance. He launched himself from the tree, his lunar twins flashing, aiming to strike Lapith's Bane's back, hoping to reopen the gash he had inflicted earlier.

  The cat-and-mouse game had evolved into a deadly dance, a strategic battle of wits and reflexes, with the lives of Pyrrhus's companions hanging in the balance.

  Xiao Ling danced around Lapith's Bane, a whirlwind of calculated motion designed to frustrate and exploit any opening.

  He darted in close, his lunar twins flashing like quicksilver, aiming precise strikes at the centaur warlord's face. He targeted joints, eyes, any vulnerable point he could find, his movements a blend of agility and lethal intent.

  Lapith's Bane roared in fury, his massive arms swinging in wide arcs, the mace a devastating blur of force. Xiao Ling, agile as a viper, evaded the blows, his movements honed by years of experience.

  A close call sent a jolt of adrenaline through him as the mace grazed his ribs, the impact tearing through his armor and dealing a significant 35 damage. This brought his health down from 90 HP to a precarious 55 HP.

  Undeterred, Xiao Ling pressed his assault. He reopened the gashes he had inflicted earlier, his blades slicing through Lapith's Bane's flesh, dealing a combined 18 damage.

  But a disconcerting sight met his eyes: the wounds were closing, the flesh knitting itself back together with unnatural speed.

  It was subtle at first, a mere flicker of regeneration. But with each passing moment, it became more pronounced. A vine-like growth, previously unseen, seemed to be weaving its way across the centaur warlord's injuries, accelerating the healing process.

  Xiao Ling was baffled. He had faced many formidable foes, but none possessed this unnerving ability.

  He struck again, harder this time, his lunar twins tearing through Lapith's Bane's hide, dealing 22 damage. But the regeneration only intensified, the vines pulsing with eerie energy.

  Lapith's Bane, his eyes burning with a strange, verdant light emanating from the parasitic plant, seemed almost invigorated by the attacks. His movements became swiffer, his strikes more powerful.

  The mace slammed against the ground, creating craters, forcing Xiao Ling to leap and dodge with every ounce of his skill. He retreated back into the trees, where Lapith's Bane attempted to bring him down by felling more trees.

  But Xiao Ling was quick enough to evade him again, maintaining his footing on another tree.

  Xiao Ling, his breath coming in ragged gasps, realized he was fighting a losing battle of attrition.

  He needed to change his tactics, to find the source of this unnatural resilience. His gaze scanned Lapith's Bane's form, searching for a clue, for a weakness.

  He noticed a strange, pulsating growth on the back of Lapith's neck. It was a parasitic plant, its tendrils snaking across the centaur warlord's skin, its petals glowing with an eerie, verdant light. The plant's energy seemed to be flowing into Lapith's Bane, explaining his regenerative abilities.

  This was the source of the regeneration! Xiao Ling's mind raced, formulating a plan. He had to sever the plant, to cut off Lapith's Bane's life force.

  But how? Lapith's Bane was relentless, his attacks leaving no room for error. Xiao Ling knew he had to create an opening, a moment of vulnerability. He had to take a risk, a calculated gamble.

  The cat-and-mouse game intensified, the stakes higher than ever. Xiao Ling, his movements a blur of speed and precision, prepared to unleash a desperate, decisive attack, a final gambit to sever the parasitic plant and end the centaur warlord's reign of terror.

  In the midst of this furious exchange, Matt and Pat struggled to drag the unconscious Pyrrhus away from the fray. Their faces were etched with terror, their movements clumsy and uncoordinated. They were clearly out of their depth, their only concern to escape with their leader.

  It was at this critical juncture that Ebony, Vicky, and Alex arrived, emerging from the treeline with determined expressions.

  The sight of their approach, however, was not met with relief by Matt and Pat. Instead, their faces twisted in annoyance.

  "What are you doing here?" Matt snapped, his voice sharp and unwelcoming. He didn't even try to hide his disdain. "We don't need your help. We can handle this."

  Pat, his eyes darting nervously between Lapith's Bane and the approaching trio, echoed Matt's sentiment. "Yeah, you're better off going back. You'll just get in the way. You're too low-level for this."

  Their words were dismissive, their tone condescending. They regarded Ebony and his companions as an unwelcome intrusion, a group of inexperienced meddlers who would only hinder their escape.

  Ebony, however, was unfazed by their hostility. He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over Matt and Pat, his voice laced with a bardic authority that brooked no argument.

  "With all due respect," he began, his tone deceptively calm, "I am Ebony Gundo. And whether you 'need' our help or not is irrelevant. We are here, and we will finish this."

  He paused, letting his words sink in, then added with a touch of theatrical flair, "Besides, you seem to be having a bit of trouble dragging your unconscious leader while simultaneously avoiding becoming centaur fodder."

  He gestured towards the still raging battle. "A task that is proving... taxing, shall we say?"

  His eyes then met with Lapith's Bane, his expression hardening. "This is our fight now."

  Ebony's companions, Vicky and Alex, stood firmly beside him, their weapons ready, their expressions resolute. They were not deterred by Matt and Pat's rudeness, nor were they intimidated by the formidable foe before them.

  Matt and Pat scoffed, exchanging arrogant glances. "We don't need your help," Matt repeated, his voice dripping with condescension. "We're perfectly capable of handling this ourselves. You'd just slow us down."

  Pat nodded in agreement. "Yeah, go back to playing your little tunes, Bard. Leave the real fighting to the professionals."

  They seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that their "professional" leader was currently unconscious and at the mercy of a powerful centaur.

  Even Pyrrhus, groaning in pain as Matt and Pat half-dragged him, managed to muster a weak protest. "Goodness... you are... unbelievable..." he gasped, his voice strained. Despite his agony, his arrogance remained. "You should have... got out of here... when you had the chance..."

  Ebony, however, was unmoved by their dismissive remarks. He met Pyrrhus's gaze with a sardonic smile. "I ain't taking advice from someone who only gets kissed by his mother," he retorted, his voice laced with playful mockery.

  Pyrrhus tried to snap back, his face contorted in fury, but the pain lancing through his body silenced him.

  Ebony turned back to Matt and Pat, his tone firm, but now laced with a subtle hint of deception.

  "Look, whether you like it or not, the only way any of us are going to survive this is if we work together. We need to take down that centaur for good."

  He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Because even if you manage to escape, what makes you think Lapith's Bane won't come after you? He's clearly relentless, and that caravan you're so eager to return to? It'll be a Massacre by the time you get there."

  Ebony leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "He'll kill everyone. The Silver Falcons, Nova, Lux... everyone. And all because you were too proud to accept a little help."

  Matt and Pat exchanged a hesitant glance. Despite their arrogance, even they, in their stupidity, could recognize the precariousness of their situation. Their leader was incapacitated, and the bounty hunter was clearly struggling.

  They had no other viable option. And Ebony's words, painting a gruesome picture of the caravan's fate, struck a chord of fear in their hearts.

  With grudging reluctance, they agreed. They carefully propped Pyrrhus against a tree, his sword leaning beside him, and administered a healing potion.

  Pyrrhus continued to grumble in protest, but he was too injured to offer any meaningful resistance.

  With a fragile truce formed, Ebony, Vicky, Alex, Matt, and Pat turned to confront Lapith's Bane, a plan forming in their minds to finally defeat the formidable foe.

  The five figures advanced cautiously towards the looming form of Lapith's Bane, a fragile alliance forged in necessity.

  They moved with hushed steps, their voices barely above a whisper, a silent agreement to avoid alerting the centaur overlord and jeopardizing their plan. The air was thick with tension, a mix of fear and determination hanging heavy among them.

  Pat, ever the simple-minded one, shifted nervously from foot to foot. "So," he mumbled, scratching his head, "you got a plan, right? 'Cause... 'cause just rushing in seems kinda dumb."

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  Matt, his face grim, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we ain't exactly in fighting shape. And that thing," he jerked his thumb towards Lapith's Bane, "looks like it could squash us like a grape."

  Vicky sighed, her hand resting on the hilt of her dagger. "Of course we have a plan. We're not suicidal. And you two are part of it." Her voice was firm, but lacked the aggressive edge.

  Ebony stepped forward, his expression serious. "It's not a complicated plan, but it requires coordination. And more importantly, it requires you two to trust us." He emphasized the last word, his gaze meeting Matt and Pat's.

  He paused, then added, his tone laced with a hint of his usual bardic flair, but tempered with urgency, "Because let's be honest, your leader is currently indisposed, and even though this is our first interaction with each other, you two aren't exactly known for your strategic brilliance."

  Matt and Pat exchanged a hesitant glance. They weren't happy about being told they weren't the sharpest tools in the shed, but they couldn't deny the truth of Ebony's words.

  "So what do you want us to do?" Matt asked, his voice grudging.

  Alex, who had been silent until now, spoke up, his voice surprisingly firm and commanding, the stutter momentarily absent.

  "You two are decoys. That's the core of it." He used his Pacheco wand to gesture simply.

  Ebony elaborated, "A distraction. We need you to draw his attention, keep him focused on you, while we..."

  Ebony stopped himself for a moment and started thinking aloud, as if he was going to reveal his original plan but had a sudden change of heart.

  He gestured for Alex and Vicky to come closer. "Wait, wait, wait..." he muttered, beckoning them over with a flick of his hand. "I want to make a few adjustments."

  Ebony, Vicky, and Alex huddled together, their heads bent in a close conference. Their voices were low and urgent, their gestures animated as they outlined their revised strategy.

  Meanwhile, Matt and Pat stood awkwardly, their faces a mixture of confusion and resentment.

  Pat kicked at a loose stone, his expression sullen.

  "Decoys," Matt muttered, his voice laced with indignation. "So we're just supposed to be... bait?"

  Pat snorted. "Great. Just great. We're gonna get ourselves killed following the orders of a bard, a wizard, and a girl with knife."

  Matt glared at Vicky, who was still deep in discussion with Ebony and Alex. "Hey We ain't just gonna stand here and get insulted! We're Silver Falcons. We deserve some respect."

  Pat nodded in agreement. "Yeah. We ain't no damn decoys. We're warriors."

  Their voices began to rise, their frustration boiling over. They took a step towards Vicky, their fists clenched.

  "We'll show you who's useless," Matt snarled, his eyes narrowed. "We'll show you who's gonna get squashed."

  Pat cracked his knuckles, a menacing grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, maybe we should just... rearrange your faces a little."

  Vicky, her own patience wearing thin, exchanged a worried glance with Alex and Ebony. "Are you sure about this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

  Ebony, his expression resolute, shook his head. "Yes."

  The three of them turned back to Matt and Pat, their expressions a mixture of apology and determination. Ebony cleared his throat. "Sorry about that, boys," he said, his voice deceptively casual. "We had a slight change of plans."

  Ebony then addressed all five of them, explaining the revised strategy, revealing what he had decided to do instead of his initial approach.

  Meanwhile, the scene shifted to Lapith's Bane, the centaur warlord stalking through the forest, his massive form leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

  Ancient trees were uprooted, the earth was gouged, and the very air seemed to tremble with his passage. His body bore the marks of the recent battle – cuts and bruises crisscrossing his hide – but the wounds were slowly, unsettlingly, beginning to heal.

  A voice echoed in his mind, urgent and demanding. "Warrior," it hissed, "you better hurry this up. I can't keep healing you indefinitely. If that bounty hunter keeps cutting you, I'll be overwhelmed."

  Lapith's Bane grunted, a frustrated sound deep in his chest. "I'm trying," he muttered, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. "But that damned prize keeps dodging me."

  The voice grew louder, more insistent, its tone laced with a manic energy. "I know you're trying, but 'trying' isn't good enough! You need to be quicker, faster, more decisive! Think, warrior, think!"

  Lapith's Bane's frustration mounted, threatening to boil over. "It's not that easy!" he snapped, his voice a low growl of barely contained rage.

  He clenched his fists, struggling to maintain control, his massive muscles bunching beneath his hide.

  The voice, relentless, continued its barrage of commands and criticisms, its tone growing increasingly agitated. "Quicker! Faster! Do something!"

  "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

  Lapith's Bane whispered fiercely, his hands clenching his head as if to physically silence the intrusive voice, a desperate attempt to regain his composure.

  Suddenly, another voice cut through the cacophony in his mind, clear and commanding.

  "Oi, there!"

  Lapith's Bane froze, his hands dropping from his head. He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing, his gaze locking onto the newcomer.

  A figure stood before him, bathed in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. It was Ebony, his dark skin gleaming with sweat, his torn leather clothing adding to his roguish charm. He held his single short sword in a relaxed yet ready stance, his posture exuding a confident, almost theatrical, bravado.

  "Oi there!" Ebony's voice, amplified by his Speaker class abilities, resonated through the forest, a clear challenge that brooked no argument.

  Lapith's Bane, surprisingly, responded not with aggression, but with a measured tone, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "Hello."

  He took in the sight of Ebony: his dark skin, his white mane, and the fresh bloodstains on his clothes. He was a striking figure, but a far cry from the imposing warrior he had expected.

  Ebony, in return, took a long, appraising look at Lapith's Bane.

  The sunlight, piercing through the canopy, revealed the stark ugliness of the centaur warlord.

  The warpaint mask covering his face gave him a perpetually hunting look, his eyes bloodshot and always on edge, as if he'd stared into a raging inferno and never blinked. His white mane was matted with blood and bits of foliage, and his monstrous figure, with its ape-like teeth and hulking form, fit every description of a creature born from nightmares.

  Ebony, initially unfazed, felt a flicker of intimidation prickle at the edges of his confidence.

  However, he was determined to show no fear, knowing that any sign of weakness would jeopardize his plan and embolden the centaur warlord.

  Ebony addressed Lapith's Bane, his voice clear and strong, his bardic charm attempting to weave a spell of distraction.

  Ebony addressed Lapith's Bane, his voice clear and strong, his bardic charm attempting to weave a spell of distraction.

  "Easy there, big hippocentaur," he began, his tone casual, almost conversational, but with a sharp undercurrent of awareness.

  "Can you accommodate a fellow stranger? I've found myself in a bit of a predicament, you see?" He forced a disarming smile, but his eyes flickered to the shadows behind Lapith's Bane. "Truth is, I'm... a bit turned around, you see."

  He paused, gesturing vaguely, his eyes darting around as if genuinely disoriented, but his ears strained to pick up the movements of his companions.

  "This Serpent's Pass... quite the labyrinth, isn't it? I seem to have... lost my bearings. And well, you look like you know your way around." He chuckled, trying to sound nonchalant, but his hand tightened slightly on his single blade.

  "Perhaps you could point me in the direction of, oh, I don't know, any trail? Any way out of this... mess?" Ebony's eyes continued to dart around, feigning confusion, but his mind was racing, calculating, assessing.

  He knew Lapith's Bane wasn't buying his act, not entirely, but he had to keep him talking, keep him focused. He was stalling, yes, but he was also probing, searching for a weakness, an opening, any advantage he could exploit.

  Lapith's Bane, however, simply stared at Ebony, his gaze unwavering, his expression unreadable, yet with a hint of something predatory.

  He looked Ebony up and down, his eyes lingering on the single sword, the torn clothes, the carefully constructed facade of a lost traveler.

  His enhanced senses, honed by years of battle, picked up the subtle rustling in the undergrowth, the almost imperceptible footfalls. He knew, on some level, this was a setup.

  "Lost?" he rumbled, his voice low and skeptical, but with a curious edge. "You stumble upon me, covered in blood, wielding a weapon, and you claim to be lost?"

  He took a deliberate step forward, his massive form looming over Ebony, testing his reaction. "I am not a fool, little bard."

  He paused, a hint of amusement in his voice, but his eyes were cold and calculating. "And even if I were to entertain your ridiculous tale, why would I help you?

  Why would I let you leave?" He gestured around them, his arm sweeping across the ravaged forest, a display of his power. "This... this is my domain. And you have trespassed.

  But... I'm curious. What other absurdities will you utter?"

  Ebony, his bardic charm momentarily faltering under the intensity of Lapith's Bane's gaze, quickly recovered.

  "I am Ebony Gundo," he declared, his voice regaining its confidence, though with a slight tremor, "the Bard of... well, I'm an adventurer, you might say. I'm here to... to have a conversation.

  A... a peaceful exchange of information." He forced a confident grin, but his heart pounded in his chest. "Perhaps a... change of plans is in order?"

  Lapith's Bane considered Ebony's words for a moment, a flicker of something akin to curiosity in his eyes, but also a hint of something darker.

  "Well, good sir," he said, his voice surprisingly conversational, almost... philosophical, "you are... different. Not many people talk to me like a normal person."

  A hint of something akin to loneliness crept into his tone, a vulnerability that was quickly masked. "You see, there has been... a disagreement in the area. A rather violent misunderstanding, you might say."

  Ebony, his mind racing, seized on this opening, trying to draw him out, to keep him talking. "A disagreement? Exactly! I'm sure we can clear it up. No need for further... unpleasantness."

  He spread his hands in a gesture of peace, but his fingers twitched towards his sword. "Perhaps a... a peaceful resolution is still possible?" His eyes flickered again, a silent command to his companions to be ready.

  Lapith's Bane's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze sweeping up and down Ebony's form, his enhanced senses cataloging every detail, every twitch.

  "Oh yeah?" he rumbled, his voice low and dangerous.

  "And what makes you think a 'peaceful resolution' is even an option at this point? You're still armed, you're still stalling, and you're still surrounded by... unseen friends."

  He took another step forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I hear them, you know. Their clumsy attempts at stealth. Their pathetic little ambush."

  Ebony, caught off guard by Lapith's Bane's sudden shift, struggled to maintain his composure. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, his deception crumbling.

  Lapith's Bane's lips curled into a cruel smile.

  "Oh, okay. Let's play along then. A lost bard, wielding a sword, advocating for peace while clearly setting up a trap. How... intriguing."

  His tone dripped with sarcasm, but his eyes held a cold, predatory light. "Tell me more about this 'peaceful resolution,' little bard. Entertain me with your lies before I crush you."

  But what Lapith's Bane didn't know was that in the trees, Xiao Ling was also poised to strike, his lunar twins gleaming in the filtered sunlight. He had observed the unfolding conversation, noting Lapith's Bane's awareness of the ambush, and was now adjusting his own strategy, preparing for a swift and decisive strike.

  The forest held its breath, the air thick with tension. The casual conversation had become a deadly game of cat and mouse, where deception and violence danced hand in hand.

  "Surely," Ebony chirped, forcing a grin, "a creature of your…magnificent presence appreciates a good story? A song, perhaps? I'm quite the bard, you know." He gestured theatrically. "A moment of art before…well, before whatever comes next?"

  Lapith's Bane's eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement. "Oh, little bard, your attempts are…charming," he rumbled, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "Like a kitten trying to roar. I'm not offended, mind you.

  Just…unconvinced." He took a step closer, his massive form casting a long shadow. "You're a terrible liar, but a persistent one. I'll give you that."

  Lapith's Bane, asserting his dominance, closed the distance with predatory swiftness. He seized Ebony's right arm.

  "Enough games, though. I've indulged your…performance. Now, let's see if your wit can withstand a little…pressure." his grip a crushing vice, his nails digging into the flesh.

  Ebony recoiled, a searing pain registering as a brutal 7 damage to his arm, and his sword clattered to the ground.

  Lapith's Bane's gaze swept across the concealing foliage, his voice a low rumble. "You two," he sneered, "your ambush is utterly pathetic. You couldn't even manage a proper setup?"

  His tone dripped with disappointment, as if he expected a far more worthy challenge. "Come now," he taunted, a maniacal laugh echoing through the trees, "you're letting me down."

  "Such amateur stealth," he continued, "and abysmal timing. I wager you lack the strength to even scratch me with such feeble attempts."

  He shifted his attention to the branches above, where Xiao Ling, the bounty hunter, was positioned. "And don't think I've forgotten about you, bounty hunter." He sneered, acknowledging the botched plan.

  Pat and Alex froze, paralyzed by fear. The centaur's unnerving awareness was palpable. Pat, his face contorted in terror, whispered, "Damn it... we're dead. We're all dead." He buried his face in his hands, his body trembling.

  Matt and Vicky, their concealment still intact, were equally terrified. Matt, his breath catching in his throat, gripped his weapon tightly, his knuckles white. Vicky, her eyes wide with fear, pressed herself against the tree trunk, her heart pounding against her ribs. She was too scared to even move.

  Xiao Ling, caught red-handed, cursed under his breath. "Useless," he hissed, his gaze fixed on the centaur. "I should have known this wouldn't work."

  Lapith's Bane, his confidence swelling, began to taunt. "If you intend to stop me, by all means, try. It'll be nothing more than a warm-up. This revenge will be most satisfying."

  He brandished his mace, the weapon glowing with increasing intensity, charged with blinding light, ready to unleash a devastating blow.

  He challenged the unseen companions, daring them to intervene. "Well, that was a pathetic attempt," he admitted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Did you truly come here to die?"

  Seizing the opportunity, Alex, the wizard, emerged from his concealment. He brandished his Pacheco wand, now revealed, its surface bearing a glowing symbol: a triton flanked by two small runes.

  He pressed his thumb and middle finger together, tracing the symbol in mid-air. A brilliant white light illuminated the clearing as he completed the gesture.

  ???

  He aimed the wand at Lapith's Bane’s neck, specifically the foliage growth located there. With a powerful incantation, Alex shouted,

  "MAGENTO!"

  A blast of magical energy, tinged with a greenish-black aura, erupted from the wand, striking Lapith's Bane in the back of his neck.

  The magical energy pierced the creature, delivering a critical strike of 20 damage. Lapith's Bane roared in agony,

  "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

  The force of the blast sent him staggering back, his eyes wide with shock and pain.

  Releasing his grip on ebony and

  Dropping his mace, he clutched at the back of his neck, trying to quell the searing pain.

  But Xiao Ling, the bounty hunter, seized this opportunity, leaping from the tree and plunging his lunar twins into Lapith's Bane's back.

  Xiao Ling continued his assault, repeatedly stabbing the horse portion of Lapith's Bane's back, opening wound after wound. Each strike, though seemingly minor, inflicted significant pain, dealing between 6 and 9 points of damage.

  Enraged, Lapith's Bane bucked and thrashed wildly, attempting to throw Xiao Ling off his back. He reared and whirled, a maddened stallion fighting for control.

  Ebony, still nursing his injured arm, retrieved his short sword with his free hand. Planning to strike at Lapith's Bane, while he was distracted. However, the centaur's erratic movements made a clean hit impossible.

  Seeing another opportunity, Ebony kicked at the ground beneath Lapith's Bane's hooves. Small earth tremors erupted, causing the centaur to stumble and lose his footing.

  Xiao Ling seized this moment, leaping off the centaur's back.

  With Lapith's Bane momentarily off-balance, Ebony struck, slicing a deep gash into the centaur's leg, dealing 4 damage. He then retreated into the forest, disappearing into the dense undergrowth.

  Lapith's Bane, now both enraged and injured, struggled to regain his footing. The deep cut on his leg severely hampered his movement.

  He reached for his mace, only to discover it was gone. "What?!" he roared, his gaze sweeping the clearing. He spotted a lumbering figure, a large, disheveled oaf, disappearing into the forest with his weapon.

  A wave of fury washed over him. "No, no, no! This cannot be happening! I won't be defeated by these fools!" He slammed his hoof into the ground, leaving a deep crater.

  A tense silence fell over the forest. The bounty hunter, the bard, and the thief had all vanished, concealed within the undergrowth, preparing for another attack.

  Lapith's Bane, his health dwindled to 56, stood his ground, his breath ragged. He was unarmed, but he still possessed his claws. He braced himself, ready to tear apart any enemy who dared to emerge from the shadows.

  Ebony dove into the bushes, joining Pat and Alex, who was curled on the ground, clutching his arm.

  Ebony knelt beside Alex, who was groaning in pain, his face contorted. "Wizard, stay with me," Ebony whispered, examining Alex's right shoulder.

  He gently palpated the area, feeling for any obvious breaks or dislocations. Alex flinched at the touch.

  Ebony concluded that the force of the spell, combined with the recoil, had likely dislocated Alex's shoulder.

  "Man, that was incredible," Pat said, his voice a mix of awe and morbid amusement.

  "Can he do that again?"

  "No," Ebony replied, his voice strained. "That spell almost tore his arm off."

  "Hang on," Ebony said, shifting his focus to Alex.

  He carefully positioned Alex's arm and, with a swift, controlled motion, popped the dislocated shoulder back into place. Alex screamed in pain, a sharp, involuntary cry.

  The sudden noise alerted Lapith's Bane to their location. He turned, his gaze fixed on the source of the sound. Though slowed by his injured leg, he readied his claws for attack.

  A rustling in the bushes behind him caught his attention. He turned to see two figures: a woman wielding two glowing containers, likely filled with acid, and a large, disheveled man, the one who had stolen his mace, charging towards him.

  Lapith's Bane turned, bracing himself, only to be struck again by Xiao Ling, who descended from the trees, his blades finding purchase in the centaur's chest.

  The three of them, Xiao Ling, Vicky, and Matthew, pressed their assault, dealing incremental damage. Xiao Ling's strikes, though swift, landed for 6 and 9 points each.

  Vicky, her voice a sharp edge against the din of battle, yelled, "Move, if you've an aversion to acid!" She hurled a vial, the corrosive liquid splashing across Lapith's Bane's chest, dealing 6 points of damage.

  Matthew, wielding the stolen mace, seized the opening, striking the centaur where Vicky's acid had burned, dealing 8 points of damage.

  Pat, watching from a safe distance, his voice a mix of nervous excitement, cheered them on. "Yeah, kick his ass! Come on, hit him in the face, Matt! Another one, Matt!"

  Ebony, however, his brow furrowed with concern, recognized the limitations of their strategy. "This chip damage," he said to Pat, his voice low and urgent, "it's not going to be enough. We need something more. I'll be right back. I need to retrieve something."

  Pat, his eyes wide with a mix of confusion and apprehension, asked, "Retrieve what? And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

  Ebony, his gaze fixed on the struggling figures, replied, "I'm sure you'll figure something out. Just...try to keep them alive. I won't be long." He placed a reassuring hand on Alex's chest, his touch gentle. "I'll be right back, Alex. Just...hold on." He then disappeared into the dense forest.

  Pat, left alone, his gaze fell upon Alex's abandoned wand. A spark of inspiration ignited in his eyes. "Right," he muttered to himself, a newfound determination in his voice.

  "I'll figure something out." He snatched the wand, a surge of unfamiliar power coursing through him. "I'll be right back," he called after Alex

  Though he was unhappy that another person touched his belongings.

  "Hey! G-G-Give that back!" Alex yelled, his voice strained and weak. He struggled to rise, his dislocated shoulder sending waves of pain through him. "That's...that's not a toy!"

  Pat ignored him, his mind racing with possibilities. He had no idea how to use the wand, but he was determined to find out.

  ◇

  Pyrrhus leaned over the carnage, his breath ragged, surveying the bodies of his twelve fallen Silver Falcons. A deep, simmering rage boiled within him.

  Footsteps echoed through the clearing, growing closer. Ebony Gundo, of all people, stood before him. Pyrrhus’s anger flared. If it weren’t for Ebony stealing his job, his men wouldn’t be dead. He’d have taken the spices and left.

  Ebony, with a casual air that belied the tension, began rummaging through Pyrrhus’s belongings, his fingers probing through pouches and packs. Pyrrhus, fueled by adrenaline, slapped Ebony’s hand away.

  “Don’t touch me, you cretin!” he snarled, his voice thick with fury. “What do you want? Rob me? Is killing my men not enough? Now you’re looting their corpses?”

  “Oh, shut up, Pyrrhus,” Ebony retorted, his tone dismissive. “I just need a potion, some aid, whatever you’ve got. I know you’re not using it. And besides, think of it as… salvage.

  A little compensation for all this… mess.” He gestured vaguely at the bodies.

  “Typical,” Pyrrhus spat, his lip curling in disgust. “All talk, Gundo. Too caught up in your own… ‘magnanimity’ to see the real world. You never should have taken my job!”

  Ebony, his patience wearing thin, noticed Pyrrhus’s longsword, Armadarian. “I’ll just borrow this for a moment,” he said, reaching for the weapon, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light. “It’s not like you’ll need it where you’re going.”

  Pyrrhus, summoning every ounce of his remaining strength, growled, “I’d sacrifice an arm and a leg before I let someone like you touch my sword. You think you’re so clever, Gundo, but you’re just a thief in fancy clothes.”

  “Oh, please,” Ebony scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s not just you! Your companions, the ‘stupid’ and the ‘dumb,’ are out there fighting for their lives, trying to keep you alive, you fool! You’d rather sacrifice them than let me use your blade? I’ll give it back!”

  “I don’t care,” Pyrrhus hissed, his voice laced with venom. “I never liked them anyway. I’d rather die with my sword in my hand. At least then I’d die with some dignity, unlike you, groveling in the dirt.”

  Ebony, his irritation mounting, looked down at the ground, his expression a mask of thinly veiled disgust. Then, a scream of agony, Vicky’s voice, cut through the air, a stark reminder of the battle raging nearby.

  He turned back to Pyrrhus, his expression grim. “Sorry, warrior. I need to borrow your blade for a spell.” With a swift, brutal motion, he struck Pyrrhus on the bridge of his nose, dealing 9 damage and knocking him unconscious.

  Ebony quickly searched Pyrrhus’s belongings, finding a mini crossbow and another healing potion. He forced the potion down Pyrrhus’s throat, reviving him, though he remained unconscious.

  The bard stood, bowed slightly, and said, “You’ll thank me someday. Or not. But you'll live.” Then, he ran toward the sounds of the ongoing battle.

  Lapith had his arm clamped around Vicky, his grip unyielding. She struggled with all her might, punching his arm and desperately trying to reach the acid vials in her bag, which lay out of reach on the ground.

  Xiao Ling, seizing an opportunity, leapt onto Lapith's back and plunged his lunar daggers into the centaur's flesh.

  both of his blades dealing 8 and 8. "Let her go!" he screamed.

  Lapith released Vicky, shoving her roughly to the ground. He then reached behind him, grabbing Xiao Ling's arms and crushing them with a bone-jarring grip.

  He yanked the bounty hunter over his back and slammed him into the ground with brutal force, dealing 12 damage.

  Xiao Ling's back slammed against the earth, exacerbating the damage to his already injured ribs. Lapith roared, "Now I've got you, you slippery little rat!"

  Matthew intervened, striking Lapith's arm with the mace, dealing 5 damage.

  Lapith's grip didn't falter. As Matthew prepared another swing, Lapith seized the mace, and an intense struggle ensued.

  Vicky, regaining her senses, grabbed another acid vial from her pouch, attempting to throw it point-blank at Lapith. But he anticipated her move, kicking her in the head with his powerful hind legs, landing a critical hit for 20 damage.

  Her body flew through the air, hitting the ground with a sickening thud, rendering her unconscious.

  Lapith turned back to Matthew, grabbing the larger man by his shirt.

  He retrieved his mace, and then slammed Matthew into the ground, into the same crater where Xiao Ling lay.

  Now, with his mace firmly in hand, Lapith prepared to unleash his fury upon them both.

  As Lapith prepared to bring his mace crashing down upon the prone figures of Xiao Ling and Matthew, a desperate attempt arose.

  Pat, his face flushed with panic, pointed the wand directly at Lapith. "Die, you monster!" he yelled, pressing the nonexistent button. Nothing happened. The wand remained stubbornly inert.

  Frantically, Pat waved the wand, tapping it against his palm. "Come on, you stupid thing!" he sputtered, recalling the potent blast that had struck Lapith earlier. He couldn't understand why it wasn't working now.

  Lapith, his eyes narrowing, connected the dots. He recognized the wand, the source of the searing pain in his neck.

  "You wizard," he growled, his voice thick with clam rage. "Your head is mine. I will squeeze the jelly from your eyes and use your skull as my bowl."

  He pointed his mace directly at Pat, the weapon glowing with renewed intensity. He began to stalk towards Pat, stepping heavily on the prone figures of Xiao Ling and Matthew, who lay battered and broken in the crater.

  Pat, his eyes wide with fear, began to back away, shaking his head. "No, no, no," he stammered, the wand trembling in his hand. He dropped the wand turned and fled, the sound of Lapith's heavy footsteps echoing behind him.

  Suddenly, a blur of motion erupted from the treeline. Ebony, his face grim and determined, reappeared, his presence radiating a focused intensity.

  He wielded Armadarian, Pyrrhus's longsword, and a modified crossbow. As he entered the clearing, he threw two short swords, one to Matthew, and one to Pat.

  "Matthew, Pat! Arm yourselves," Ebony commanded, his voice sharp and urgent. "We finish this now."

  "Lapith," Ebony's voice cut through the air, sharp and clear. "Enjoy the air while you can. You won't need it where you're going."

  Before Lapith could react, Ebony fired the crossbow. A bolt, tipped with silver, struck Lapith's wounded leg, dealing 4 damage and causing him to stumble with a roar of pain.

  Taking advantage of Lapith's disorientation, Ebony lunged forward, Armadarian flashing. The blade sliced through the air, finding purchase in Lapith's flank. A deep gash opened, dealing 5 damage.

  Xiao Ling, battered and bruised, rolled away from Lapith's reach, his daggers glinting. Matthew, now armed with a short sword, pushed himself up, his eyes filled with determination. Pat, short sword in hand, began to circle Lapith, aiming quick, distracting strikes at his legs.

  "The perfect distraction, as expected," Ebony said, his voice firm. "Now! Attack!"

  Despite Lapith's Bane being exhausted, he made a desperate attempt to strike at them multiple times, swinging his mace wildly, but he was too slow and couldn't keep up with their constant attacks.

  The plant on his back prevented him from regenerating. As he almost hit Ebony, Alex appeared from the bushes.

  Alex snapped his fingers twice, summoning blue sparkles in the air, which coalesced into a ball of water in his hand. He chucked the water at Lapith's Bane, stunning him momentarily.

  Ebony turned to see Alex, still contributing despite his injuries. Even though magic had little effect on centaurs, he was doing his best to stun him and prevent him from attacking.

  Xiao Ling, agile, darted around Lapith, his daggers finding weak points, dealing 5 damage. Matthew, with his short sword, joined the fray, dealing 2 damage. Pat, though hesitant, contributed by darting in and out, aiming at Lapith's legs, dealing 1 damage.

  Before Lapith could react, Ebony fired the crossbow. A bolt, tipped with silver, struck Lapith's wounded leg, dealing 4 damage and causing him to stumble with a roar of pain.

  Taking advantage of Lapith's disorientation, Ebony lunged forward, Armadarian flashing. The blade sliced through the air, finding purchase in Lapith's flank. A deep gash opened, dealing 5 damage.

  Despite Lapith's Bane being exhausted, he made an attempt to strike at them multiple times, but he was too slow and couldn't keep up with their constant attacks. The plant on his back prevented him from regenerating. As he almost hit Ebony, Alex appeared from the bushes.

  Alex snapped his fingers twice, summoning blue sparkles in the air, which coalesced into a ball of water in his hand. He chucked the water at Lapith's Bane, stunning him momentarily.

  Ebony turned to see Alex, still contributing despite his injuries. Even though magic had little effect on centaurs, he was doing his best to stun him and prevent him from attacking.

  Xiao Ling, battered and bruised, rolled away from Lapith's reach, his daggers glinting. Matthew, now armed with a short sword, pushed himself up, his eyes filled with determination. Pat, short sword in hand, began to circle Lapith, aiming quick, distracting strikes at his legs.

  "The perfect distraction as expected," Ebony said, his voice firm. "Now! Attack!"

  Xiao Ling, agile, darted around Lapith, his daggers finding weak points, dealing 5 damage. Matthew, with his short sword, joined the fray, dealing 2 damage. Pat, though hesitant, contributed by darting in and out, aiming at Lapith's legs, dealing 1 damage.

  The combined assault overwhelmed Lapith.

  Lapith, now with only 4 health remaining, made a desperate Hail Mary, striking wildly at the ground, attempting to prevent any further attacks.

  Ebony, seizing the opportunity presented by Alex's water, manipulated the remaining water, forming a whip in his left hand. He waited for the perfect moment.

  As Lapith's wild swings left an opening, Ebony lashed out with the water whip, blinding the centaur. Then, with a final lunge, he plunged Armadarian deep into Lapith's body, dealing the final 3 damage.

  Lapith staggered back, collapsing to one knee, defeated.

  The centaur roared, stepping back, and kneeling in defeat. Lapith, now with only 1 health remaining, was on the brink of collapse.

  Vicky, her forehead bearing a large hoof print, stood, her eyes blazing with determination. She had downed a healing potion and was ready to rejoin the fight.

  Even Alex, disoriented, managed to rise, retrieving his snatched wand from the floor and regaining his grip. His Pacheco wand glowed with renewed, albeit uncertain, energy. He aimed it at Lapith, ready to unleash another blast.

  Lapith's breath came in ragged gasps.

  Xiao Ling turned to the others and said, "Ayo, none of you touch him. He's mine, got it?" Ebony relaxed, gesturing towards Lapith's Bane.

  "He's all yours," Ebony said. "He's basically just waiting for you to finish him." Xiao Ling turned back to Lapith, readying his blades for the final strike.

  He couldn't keep this up. A voice echoed in his mind: "We're done here."

  "No," Lapith growled, disagreeing. "I can take them."

  The voice, emanating from the flower on his neck, spoke again, more forcefully: "No. We're done."

  Suddenly, spores erupted from the flower, surrounding them all. A strange, iridescent cloud filled the clearing, swirling and pulsating.

  The characters recoiled, coughing. They didn't know what the spores were, but an instinctive fear gripped them.

  Ebony, his eyes watering, yelled, "Run! Now!”

  Xiao Ling, his eyes fixed on Lapith's Bane, his eyes just as sharp as his lunar twins, stared daggers at the Centaur Warlord and snarled, "I will be back. Your head will be mine!" He let out a harsh, almost manic laugh, then turned and ran, disappearing into the swirling, iridescent cloud.

  He had wanted to kill his target so badly. He looked at Lapith, then at the spores. The swirling, yellow cloud was clearly deadly. With his mouth and eyes his only source of shield, he knew he couldn't stay. The spores were too dangerous, and he didn't know what kind of infection they might cause. So, he had to flee.

  All six turned and fled, their bodies aching and their minds reeling.

  Lapith, his vision blurring, watched them go. He felt a strange mixture of relief and frustration. The spores pulsed, their glow intensifying, consuming the clearing. The sounds of battle faded into the distance. The characters, their bodies aching and their minds reeling, disappeared into the forest, leaving Lapith and the spores behind.