Meanwhile, in the middle of the lone street, flanked by sharp, spiky trees, Sophia, Gregory, Edgar, Sarrah, and Bethany stand and wait. Their gazes remain fixed on the direction of the mansion, their hearts aflame with a burning sensation that radiates through their bodies. The wind dances around them, stirring the air as the surroundings gradually come alive with whirling breezes that sway the rustling branches. The clouds in the sky persist, casting a sombre tone, while a bluish hue lingers in the air, penetrating the atmosphere like a thin mist.

"...We should put some distance between ourselves and the mansion," Sophia sighed. "Otherwise, somebody might spot us, which would end horribly for your son," she added, looking at Gregory.

Gregory took a deep breath, drawing it out in a long sigh. "Alright, let's move," he responded, keeping his eyes on the mansion before them.

     Sophia, Gregory, Edgar, Sarrah, and Bethany turn on their heels and march away from the mansion. With each stride, their feet land at a measured and cautious pace, keeping their steps as light as possible. Their minds and hearts become a battleground of conflicting thoughts, grappling with the weighty question of whether they have made the correct choice to accompany the Remaining Podeshire or if they should instead evade the situation.

Edgar glanced at Gregory as they walked forward. "Hey, Greg. Oli got this, alright?" He ventured, offering a timid smile, "...I know he always succeeds in every mission... that's why I'm his follower, remember...?"

Gregory let out a deep breath. He then closed his eyes briefly, gathering his thoughts. "I'm telling you..." he groaned. "...Cal is sneaky. Who knows what could happen if I leave Oliver to face him alone?"

"Greg, if you truly love Oliver, you must have trust in him," Sarrah interjected as their pace slightly slowed. "Can't you see how confident he is by himself?"

"...This time is different," Gregory said, glancing at Sarrah. "It's Cal we're talking about. Do you guys know just how determined he is to snatch Oliver away from this world? I've seen Cal's true nature as I've grown up. And I witnessed all his behaviours..." Gregory's gaze lowered to his shoes as his voice faded into a whisper. "...I even witnessed the time he almost got Oliver..."

Sophia watched a frown form on Gregory's face. "...Greg..." she gently laid a palm on his shoulder. "Oli? He has elemental powers. He has all the potential to be as strong as a deity."

"But..." Gregory murmured.

"Look, Greg. You must... stop being clingy all the time, got it?" Sarrah's lips tightened.

"Mhm, yeah. If the task is meant for Oliver, let him do the work," Bethany added.

"And you're aware that every time you interfere, it never ends well, right?" Sarrah continued, sliding her hands into her pockets.

     Gregory suppressed the urge to respond, his words reduced to a weary sigh. His head hung low, his gaze fixated on the ground beneath his feet. However, amidst his contemplation, a flash of thought emerged, pricking at Gregory's consciousness. His eyebrows knitted together in deep concentration as he glanced at the others.

Gregory halted, causing the rest of the group to pause. "Uh, guys?" he wagged his head. "I think... I think we're walking too far!"

Sophia countered, attempting to reassure him. "It's not that far, Greg. Remember, if Cal spots us, it puts your son at risk."

Gregory shook his head, his conviction growing stronger. "No, no, no! We've gone too far already," he asserted, making a decisive turn to face the direction they came from. "We'll inspect from here, alright??"

     As Gregory turned to face the mansion, his eyes scanning the surroundings, a peculiar sight caught his attention at the far end of the road. Two human silhouettes appeared amidst the shadows, drawing his keen interest. He raised an intrigued eyebrow and narrowed his gaze, attempting to discern their features. Gradually, as his vision adjusted to the dimness, the distinct characteristics of the figures became apparent. They were two men; one possessed sleek black hair, while the other sported a mane of lustrous bronze.

Gregory's voice escaped in a muted whisper, barely audible. "What in the world...?" he mumbled, his gaze transfixed on the two men.

     The men's hurried steps towards the desolate mansion immediately captured Gregory's attention. Curious, Gregory yearned to examine them more closely. His eyes descended to their hands, and a furrow formed on his brow as his eyes widened in horror. Gleaming in the dim light, he spotted the glint of sharp, pointy blades held tightly in their grasp.

"...Hey!!" Gregory's voice erupted, his yell echoing through the atmosphere.

     Sophia, Edgar, Sarrah, and Bethany gasped, startled by the abruptness of Gregory's resounding yell. Their gazes swiftly shifted ahead, and their eyes locked on the sight of two unfamiliar men hastening toward the mansion. Without hesitation, Gregory charged forward, his protective instincts overpowering any fear. With swift strides, his feet propelled him closer to the armed intruders.

     Just as the two men were about to step onto the porch of the abandoned mansion, a cacophony of hurried footsteps reached their ears. They halted and glanced at their side, their attention captured by Gregory's sudden appearance. Their focus immediately shifted entirely to Gregory, their knives poised menacingly in their hands as they charged to confront him.

     Gregory's dread returned with crushing force, paralyzing him as he beheld the relentless charge of the two men brandishing knives. His feet rooted themselves to the ground, trembling knees increasing his fear. Powerless and frozen, he could only watch their menacing approach with blades ready to stab.

     Hopelessness engulfed Gregory, burning any remnants of his will to avoid the imminent danger. As his fear consumed him, he became as motionless as a statue, his body frozen. His gaze remained fixed in terror, resigned to his inevitable demise—until a sudden crunching noise shattered the air from behind.

     Sophia springs forth from Gregory's back, soaring above him. Her foot extends, aimed at the oncoming assailant with raven-black hair, and connects with a swift, forceful kick to his face. Sophia descends to the ground, panting heavily as she watches the threat collapse.

     Gregory slips and tumbles onto his back, his breaths escaping him in horrified gasps. Overwhelmed by terror, he scrambles backwards as quickly as he can. Edgar rushes towards Gregory and begins dragging him away from danger.

     Locked in a tense gaze, the bronze-haired man glares at Sophia. Swiftly, he raises his knife into the clouds, poised to bring it down upon her head. However, in a sudden twist, a knee crashes into the side of his ribs, causing him to wince in pain. Bethany delivers a powerful strike with her left knee, quickly retracting and stepping back as she hops to the side.

     Groaning with pain and fury, the bronze-haired man lifts his knife again, this time directed towards Bethany. Unexpectedly, Sarrah appears seemingly out of thin air, her palm slicing through the space, striking the man's throat. His eyes contract with agony as he relinquishes his grip on the blade, dropping it to the ground.

     As the black-haired opponent regained consciousness, he slowly rose to his feet, his fingers tightly gripping the blade. His gaze fixated on Sophia, annoyance fueling his urge to lunge forward with his knife. However, desperation tainted his aim, causing him to miss his target.

     Swift as a lightning bolt, Sophia leapt to the side, evading the slashing blade with ease. She then forcefully slammed her elbow onto the man's wrist. A grunt escaped her lips as the strength of her arm compelled the man's grip to loosen, and the knife slipped from his hand.

     The bronze-haired man crumpled to the ground, reaching for his fallen knife. Suddenly, a searing pain shot through his hand as Sarrah stomped her foot upon it. Before he could react, Bethany leapt forward, soaring through the air and kicking the man's face. The knives now lay on the concrete road. Quickly, Sophia snatched one of the blades from the ground while Sarrah hastily grabbed the other.

     The black-haired and bronze-haired men rise from the floor, their bodies pulsating with pain. Their eyes mirror a mix of terror and exhaustion as they glare at the group of girls. Gasping for breath, their shoulders slump, weighed down by the fear that courses through their veins. Driven by the instinct to preserve their lives, they hurryingly turn around and flee, vanishing into the safety of the street.

     Sophia, Gregory, Edgar, Sarrah, and Bethany stand in silent awe, their eyes locked on the retreating figures of the men. Words elude them, and their mouths hesitate to discuss the gravity of the situation. Each one is frozen in place, their breaths synchronized with the rapid beat of their pounding hearts.

     Sarrah's deft hand swings the knife through the air, its blade tracing an arc before she effortlessly reclaims it by the handle. She then casually rests her elbow on Bethany's shoulder. The girls smirk as they revel in the sight of their terrified opponents scattering into the distant horizon.

"...I guess you're right, Greg," Sophia admitted. "...We should've come."

     Sophia hurls the knife towards the ground. The sharp blade forcefully penetrates the unforgiving concrete road, embedding itself with a resounding thud. Sophia then crosses her arms as she pants heavily, swaying her hip subtly to the side.