“Arin, are you sure?” Grandpa’s voice dropped, grave.

  “Do you know if they’re with the army… or if they’ve finally decided to forcefully claim the forest now that the mana is so dense?”

  “I—I’m not sure, Grandpa,” Arin answered. “But they’re coming. And we have maybe ten minutes before they reach us. If we’re going to act, it has to be now.”

  Grandpa’s expression hardened instantly.

  “Everyone scatter around the clubhouse. Wait for my signal. If something happens—kill without mercy. We’ll judge the situation afterward.”

  Understanding flashed through the group.

  “Teun, take the children under ten down to the bunker.”

  “Yes,” the adults replied in unison.

  One by one, they slipped out the clubhouse doors and vanished at the tree line, melting into the shadows of the ancient forest, ready for whatever might come.

  At the Forest’s Official Entrance

  A striking woman stood at the threshold—about 1.80 meters tall, fit, hourglass figure, uniform pristine. A soldier in the EU Special Forces.

  Beside her stood a man practically groveling.

  “Here we are, Lady Sofie,” the man groveling. “This is the entrance to the club.”

  “Thanks,” she muttered, already irritated. She had joined the army to escape slimy men like him, yet somehow they always slithered back into her life.

  Her grandfather had spoken of this place—of a friend he’d met during his service, a man whose knowledge had shaped him into the general he became. But that friend had disappeared after his tour, untraceable… until now.

  Now, rumor said this club possessed ancient war-archery techniques never shown to outsiders. And the EU needed them.

  “Right,” she said. “Lead the way. Move out, Black Owls!”

  “Yes, Captain!” the elite unit roared behind her.

  They marched in formation, passing the archery range and clubhouse. Sofie frowned.

  “Aren’t we walking past the club?”

  The guide chuckled. “They train the normal members there. Not the core group—the ones who actually own this forest.”

  “And how can they afford all of this?” she asked. “Our background checks show they’re regular people. They shouldn’t have the money for a whole forest.”

  “Oh, that’s true,” the guide said casually. “But their great-grandparents held off an entire German infantry regiment in this forest—just with bows. Because they bought the army time to escape an encirclement, the government granted them inheriting rights for three generations and no taxes during that period.”

  He lowered his voice. “And after this generation ends… we can finally buy the forest.”

  Sofie noted the tone.

  So that’s what you’re after.

  As they reached a clearing, she stopped. The scene looked like it belonged in a painting: a rustic hunter’s lodge beside a small lake, peaceful and still. An old hunter leaned against the wall, bow in hand, as if patiently waiting.

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  She stepped forward to introduce herself—

  —but froze.

  A crushing wave of bloodlust washed over them all.

  “I need you to explain something,” the old hunter said, smiling in a way that was not a smile. “Have you come with that bastard beside you? Or is this something else? Because army or not, we can make you disappear into this forest forever if you’re with him.”

  “What—?” Sofie blinked, stunned. If this was the man her grandfather spoke of, then the threat was very real. Especially now that firearms were nearly useless.

  Behind her, the Black Owls tensed, hands reaching instinctively for weapons.

  “QUIET!” Sofie barked, snapping them back to discipline.

  “Sir, I believe there’s a misunderstanding. We’re here on behalf of the EU. We request instruction in ancient archery techniques. He is only a guide.”

  The hunter narrowed his eyes, then slowly lowered the killing intent—only slightly.

  “Fine. You found us. The guide has served his purpose. Send him back to the prison you found him in.”

  “Um… sir, he wasn’t in prison.”

  “Weird. He should be.” The old man shrugged. “Either way—send him back. And send your troops back as well. As long as you’re with him, and with this many soldiers, you are not welcome.”

  Sofie swallowed. Her back was drenched with cold sweat.

  “Understood. But I expect a very good explanation for threatening a public official.”

  The Black Owls Confer

  Her officers gathered in a tight circle.

  “Okay, this is strange,” Sofie admitted. “He was hostile from the start—to us and to that guide. Something’s going on. Ideas?”

  A lieutenant raised his hand. “Captain… I grew up around here. There’s an old rumor. The local elite betrayed the region during World War II—collaborated with the Germans, got rich from it. After the war, anyone with evidence either disappeared, or the evidence did.”

  Sofie felt a cold knot form.

  “The members of this club fought the Germans. They hid in this forest for five years. After the war, they gave their evidence to the Americans… but rumor says the local patriarch bribed the commanding officer with a chest of gold. The evidence vanished. They’ve been enemies ever since.”

  The lieutenant motioned toward the guide.

  “My bet? He’s part of that elite family. And the club thought we were hired muscle, sent to drive them out—or silence them—now that mana density here has skyrocketed. They wouldn’t want the club to grow stronger.”

  Sofie exhaled slowly.

  It made too much sense.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant. All right—orders.”

  She straightened, voice sharp and clear.

  “Squads 1 through 9: head to the cities and towns in the region. Verify these rumors.”

  “Squad 10: half of you with me. We’ll approach them formally. The other half—go to the archery range and get their account of events.”

  “Move out!”

  “YES, CAPTAIN!”