Chapter 6: Until It Hurts

A single, deliberate snap of a twig cut through the stillness. Towan's head snapped up, his eyes wide and alert. "What was that?" he whispered, his voice barely audible as he scanned the impenetrable darkness surrounding them.

Nothing moved. Nothing breathed.

Yet the silence itself felt alive, pressing down on them with physical weight, thick and suffocating. Every instinct screamed that they weren't alone. Something - someone - was there with them in the shadows. They couldn't see it, couldn't hear it, but they felt it in their bones.

Essentia.

The telltale energy pulsed through the air, subtle yet unmistakable, brushing against their skin like the whisper of a predator circling its prey. The sensation made the fine hairs on Towan's neck stand on end.

A voice slithered from the darkness, dripping with malicious amusement. "Looks like two got away, huh?" The words curled around them like smoke, impossible to pinpoint.

Towan barely had time to register the threat before a blur of motion erupted from the shadows.

"Watch out!" Elliot's body moved before his mind could process the danger - pure instinct driving him to throw himself in front of his brother. The sickening thud of impact echoed through the trees as a boot connected squarely with Elliot's chest.

WHAM.

The force sent Elliot skidding backward across the forest floor, his body carving a path through the dirt and leaves until his back collided with an unforgiving tree trunk. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs in a pained gasp, his vision swimming as he crumpled to his knees, desperately trying to draw breath.

"Quick reflexes, huh?" The attacker finally stepped into the dim moonlight filtering through the branches. A bandit, his posture oozing lazy confidence, his lips twisted in a grin that showed too many teeth. The unnatural glow of corrupted Essentia flickered in his eyes as he casually cracked his knuckles.

"Elliot!" Towan's voice cracked with raw panic as he watched his brother struggle to push himself up from the ground, each movement clearly painful. The sight ignited something primal in Towan's chest. His hands clenched into white-knuckled fists, his entire body trembling with barely-contained rage.

"You bastard!" The words tore from Towan's throat, raw and guttural, carrying all the fury and helplessness of seeing his protector, his brother, struck down before his eyes. The forest seemed to hold its breath as the two remaining figures faced each other - one radiating cruel amusement, the other burning with desperate defiance.

He dropped into a defensive stance - a clumsy imitation of what he'd seen the village guards practice. His knees shook, his arms trembled, the posture unrefined and unbalanced. But he didn't care about technique. The fire in his chest demanded action. He had to fight.

The bandit's chuckle cut through the night air, sharp and mocking. "Ha." His eyes gleamed with cruel amusement, enjoying the pathetic display like a cat toying with its prey.

Towan's fury erupted past the point of reason. With a raw, wordless cry, he charged forward, throwing a wild, desperate punch with all his strength.

It was too slow. Too telegraphed. Too everything.

The bandit sidestepped with effortless grace, his movement almost lazy in its execution.

And then—THUD.

A knee like a battering ram slammed into Towan's stomach, folding him in half as every molecule of air exploded from his lungs. His body crumpled forward, arms instinctively clutching his abdomen as his vision swam with black spots. He barely had time to gasp before—

CRACK.

Both of the bandit's hands came down like twin hammers, crashing against Towan's exposed back with devastating force. But this wasn't just brute strength - the bandit's hands shimmered faintly, coated in earth Essentia that reinforced them like solid stone. The impact was brutal, unforgiving.

Towan hit the ground face-first, his mouth filling with the taste of dirt and copper. The world spun violently as the forest floor beneath him seemed to grow colder, harder. Every muscle screamed in protest.

He couldn't move.

He couldn't breathe.

And above him, the bandit's shadow loomed large, his grin widening as he lifted his boot, preparing to crush Towan's skull like overripe fruit.

"It's over for you," the bandit sneered, the words dripping with malicious glee.

BOOM!

A silver-streaked fist suddenly crashed into the side of the bandit's face with enough force to snap his head sideways. The smirk twisted into shocked agony as he staggered back several steps.

Elliot stood firm between them, his entire body trembling with exertion, his breath coming in ragged gasps. A faint silver aura flickered erratically around his extended arm - Essentia. Pure, unfiltered Essentia. Through sheer desperation and willpower alone, he had somehow made it flow.

Towan blinked through the pain, his vision swimming. "Elliot...?" The name came out as a disbelieving whisper, equal parts awe and terror at what his brother had just done - and what it might cost him.

The bandit slowly straightened, his fingers gingerly probing the blossoming bruise on his cheek. His expression darkened like a stormcloud, the earlier amusement replaced by something far more dangerous. "Ho-oh..." A low, humorless chuckle rumbled from his throat. "Didn't expect you to do that..." His fingers came away slightly red, and when his eyes lifted again, they burned with cold fury. "That hurt."

Towan forced himself upright through sheer willpower, gritting his teeth against the pain as he staggered to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with his brother. "Can you do that again?" he whispered urgently, his voice tight with desperation.

Elliot flexed his trembling hand, the faint silver glow flickering uncertainly around his fingers. "I don't know," he admitted, his breath still coming in ragged gasps.

The bandit's lips twisted into a menacing grin, his entire posture shifting into something predatory. Then—he moved.

Too fast.

Impossibly fast.