Chapter 11 A Glimpse of Terror 10/08/908


    Yonas jolted awake, his body drenched in sweat, his breath ragged.


    The cool night air wrapped around him, yet he felt no relief—only a creeping, suffocating weight pressing against his chest. His ears strained against the silence, every distant rustle of leaves and chirp of insects suddenly feeling too sharp, too intrusive.


    His hand instinctively found the hilt of his sword, gripping it with white-knuckled intensity, as if the cold steel could anchor him back to reality. But the dream refused to fade.


    The image of the creature lingered in his mind, towering, gaunt yet unnervingly powerful, its bloodshot eyes locking onto him as if it could see through his very being.


    It had not attacked, had not spoken, had not moved—and yet, its presence had suffocated him.


    Behind it, other monsters lurked, their shapes hazy and indistinct, as if intentionally hidden from his sight.


    This was no ordinary nightmare.


    He hadn’t imagined it.


    He had been shown it.


    His gaze darted across the darkened forest, half-expecting the creature to step out from the shifting shadows, its bloodshot eyes fixating on him once more.


    The trees loomed over him, ancient and unmoving, their twisted branches clawing at the star-scattered sky like the hands of forgotten giants.


    Yet, something felt off.


    The air carried a biting chill, far colder than before, and the usual nocturnal sounds—the chirping of crickets, the distant howls—felt muted, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.


    He swallowed hard, forcing air into his lungs, but even breathing felt laborious, like he was inhaling something thicker than air.


    His sword, a source of confidence in the past, now weighed heavy in his grip, its cold steel offering no comfort.


    Was it truly just a dream?


    Or was it something more—an omen, a prelude to the horrors yet to come?


    The thought sent a slow, creeping shiver down his spine.


    He had faced goblins, had tasted fear and pain, had survived against odds that once seemed insurmountable.


    But this... this was something else entirely.


    Something greater.


    Something inevitable.


    Sleep was no longer an option.


    His body was exhausted, his limbs aching with the dull remnants of battle and training, yet his mind remained restless, gnawing at the images burned into his thoughts.


    He needed to do something—anything—to shake the lingering unease.


    With a quiet exhale, he shut his eyes and attempted to meditate, forcing himself to steady his breathing, to clear his mind.


    But it was pointless.


    His muscles remained tense, his shoulders locked as if bracing for an attack.


    Every time he tried to focus, the vision of the monster resurfaced, its piercing red eyes watching, waiting.


    Frustration bubbled up inside him, clawing at his patience.


    His fists clenched on instinct, his nails digging into his palms as his breath came faster.


    Then, without thinking, he drove his fist into the ground, the sharp impact jolting through his arm.


    The pain was grounding, but it wasn’t enough.


    A low growl escaped his throat, his body trembling with frustration—not just at the dream, but at himself.


    Why am I still afraid?


    He had thought he was past this.


    He had fought, bled, killed, and yet the moment something truly terrifying loomed over him, he was reduced to the same trembling boy who had faced his first goblin.


    The sound of his fist striking the earth had not gone unnoticed.


    From across the camp, a shift in movement caught Yonas’ attention.


    Nasir sat up, his eyes sharp despite the early hour, his instincts already on high alert.


    He said nothing at first, simply watching, his gaze assessing rather than reprimanding.


    Yonas ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, exhaling sharply before speaking.


    “I saw something,” he admitted, his voice quieter than he intended.


    He hesitated for only a moment before spilling the details of his dream—the towering monster, its haunting red eyes, the hazy figures lurking behind it.


    He expected Nasir to wave it off as nothing more than a nightmare, but instead, the man remained still, his expression unreadable.


    A long silence stretched between them before Nasir finally spoke, his tone calm but laced with something just beneath the surface.


    “So, you’re seeing the next monster to come from the invasion?” he said, phrasing it as a statement rather than a question.


    Yonas nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.


    "It was different," he murmured. "Taller than any goblin—taller than you."


    Nasir’s expression didn’t change, but there was a slight pause, a flicker of something behind his eyes. He didn’t comment, letting Yonas continue.


    "It wasn’t bulky, but it looked strong—like its body was built for speed and precision. Its arms were too long, nearly dragging against the ground, and its claws…" He exhaled, steadying his voice. "They weren’t like a goblin’s. They were sharp, curved—like knives designed to carve through flesh in a single swipe."


    Even as he spoke, Yonas felt his pulse quicken, the vivid details of the dream gripping his mind like iron chains.


    "And its face—" He hesitated. "It had no mouth. Just a sharp nose, and its eyes… red, bloodshot, like it hadn''t slept in centuries."


    His grip tightened around his sword. The more he described it, the more real it felt, as if speaking the words would summon the creature from the shadows.


    "But the worst part?" His voice lowered. "It just stared at me. Like it knew me. Like it was waiting."


    For the first time, Nasir’s face tightened. It was subtle—a flicker of tension at the corner of his mouth, a slight narrowing of his eyes, as though something about the description didn’t sit right with him.


    Then, just as quickly, his expression smoothed over, his usual calm returning as he crossed his arms.


    "Hm," he muttered. "If it’s only ten times stronger than you, I’ll handle it. You focus on your training."


    Yonas frowned.


    Nasir’s words were meant to reassure him, but they felt too casual, too dismissive. His uncle had faced countless monsters before—goblins, beasts far beyond Yonas’ comprehension—but something about this creature had made him pause, even if just for a moment. Yonas had caught it in the way his jaw tensed, in the slight narrowing of his eyes, in the way his usual offhanded confidence seemed forced.


    It wasn’t fear. But it was something.


    "You don’t seem as relaxed as you sound," Yonas muttered, studying him carefully.


    Nasir exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck as if weighing his words. "I’m always wary of new monsters," he admitted. "Never a good idea to underestimate something you don’t know. But for all we do know, that thing isn’t even in Eldergrove. Could be deeper in, could be somewhere else entirely." His gaze flickered toward the distant treeline before settling back on Yonas. "No sense in worrying about it yet."


    Yet.


    That single word stuck in Yonas'' mind like a splinter.


    Yonas didn’t argue, but the unease in his chest didn’t fade.


    Nasir’s explanation made sense, but it didn’t feel right. The way the monster had stared at him in the dream—unblinking, unshaken, aware—it wasn’t something that could be brushed off as mere coincidence. He had dreamed of goblins before fighting them, and now this? It wasn’t random. It wasn’t meaningless.


    But what was it? A warning? A vision? A sign of what was to come?


    He clenched his jaw and forced the thoughts aside. Thinking about it wouldn’t change anything. Whether the creature lurked deep in Eldergrove or beyond its borders, it didn’t matter yet. He wasn’t strong enough to fight it—not now. And dwelling on the unknown wouldn’t bring him any closer to that goal.


    With a slow breath, he steadied himself. Focus on what’s in front of you.


    For now, that was the only thing he could do.


    The first light of dawn began to creep through the trees, casting faint golden streaks across the dense foliage. The air remained cold, but the oppressive weight from the night had lessened. Nasir stretched, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the conversation.


    “Come on,” he said, his tone shifting back to something lighter. “No point sitting around thinking about nightmares. We need to move.”


    Yonas nodded, pushing himself to his feet. His body still carried the lingering stiffness of sleep, but his mind was already sharpening. He tightened his grip on his sword, feeling its weight settle in his palm, grounding him.


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    As they set off, the forest around them stirred to life. Birds flitted between branches, their calls echoing through the air, and small creatures rustled through the undergrowth. But despite the morning’s tranquility, Yonas’ mind remained tethered to the dream. He kept his senses on high alert, scanning the shadows between the trees, half-expecting those bloodshot eyes to reappear.


    The unease hadn’t left him. It had simply quieted, lurking beneath the surface.


    Waiting.


    The hours passed in relative silence, broken only by the crunch of leaves beneath their boots and the occasional snap of a twig. Yonas remained focused, his senses attuned to every shift in the forest. Though he told himself it was just caution, he knew the real reason—he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching them.


    Nasir led the way with his usual ease, scanning the path ahead with the practiced eye of someone who had spent years navigating untamed lands. But Yonas noticed something different today. There was an extra sharpness to Nasir’s movements, a subtle shift in how his eyes flickered toward the deeper shadows, how his fingers occasionally flexed near the hilt of his sword. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to tell Yonas one thing.


    Nasir had felt it too.


    Neither of them spoke about it. They didn’t need to.


    As the morning wore on, the tension in Yonas’ body eased—not because he felt safe, but because he refused to let fear dictate his actions. He focused on his movements, stepping lightly, adjusting his stance every so often, making sure his balance was right. It was a habit now, one that had been drilled into him since Nasir had first forced him to fight a goblin.


    After what felt like hours, Nasir slowed his pace and gestured subtly with his hand. Yonas followed his line of sight and spotted them—three goblins, prowling near a fallen tree, their crude weapons gripped tightly in their clawed hands.


    The sight didn’t send ice through his veins the way it had before. Instead, a steely calm settled over him. He wasn’t the same boy who had frozen in terror during his first battle. He had faced goblins before. He knew how they moved, how they attacked, how predictable they were.


    Nasir stepped forward, rolling his shoulders. "I’ll take two. You handle the last one."


    There was no hesitation in his voice, no doubt. Just expectation.


    And Yonas didn’t intend to disappoint.


    Nasir moved first, his blade cutting through the air with practiced ease. The two goblins barely had time to react before he was upon them, his movements swift and efficient. There was no wasted motion, no unnecessary flair—just precise strikes that ended the fight before it even truly began.


    Yonas barely had time to take in the display before his own opponent lunged at him. The goblin snarled, baring its jagged teeth as it swung its crude blade. Yonas sidestepped, his heart steady, his focus unwavering.


    Watch the movement, don’t anticipate—react.


    He wasn’t here to win with brute strength. He was here to learn.


    The goblin came at him again, faster this time, its strikes wild but repetitive. Yonas adjusted his footwork, moving just enough to avoid the slashes, his mind working to analyze every detail—the goblin’s rhythm, its habits, its aggression.


    For the first time, he wasn’t just surviving. He was studying.


    The goblin let out a sharp, guttural screech, stumbling back as dark blood seeped from the wound. Yonas didn’t rush in—he didn’t need to. Instead, he watched. The goblin clutched its side, its jagged teeth bared in pain, but its eyes—those wild, beady eyes—still burned with rage. It wasn’t thinking. It wasn’t adjusting.


    It was reacting.


    Yonas exhaled slowly. He had been right. Goblins didn’t learn. They repeated.


    The goblin snarled and lunged again, just as reckless as before. But this time, Yonas was ready.


    His footwork was sharper, his positioning deliberate. He side-stepped at the last second, shifting his weight just enough to redirect the momentum. His blade moved in the same breath—an upward slash, clean and precise, carving deep into the goblin’s chest.


    The creature choked on its own breath, its body staggering as the life drained from it.


    And then, with a final, weak growl, it collapsed to the ground.


    Yonas didn’t lower his sword. His chest heaved, his heartbeat thundering in his ears, but his mind remained clear. This wasn’t like the first goblin he had fought, where fear had consumed him. This time, he had control—over his movements, over his focus, over the battle itself.


    He took a cautious step forward, watching as the goblin’s body shuddered, its fingers digging weakly into the dirt. Even on the brink of death, it still wanted to fight.


    A part of him hesitated.


    Another part didn’t.


    With a sharp breath, he raised his sword and brought it down, the final strike swift and clean. The goblin jerked once—then stilled.


    Yonas exhaled, lowering his blade.


    This time, there was no panic. No hesitation.


    Only resolve.


    Nasir watched in silence, his arms crossed, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He didn’t laugh, didn’t comment—just observed. Yonas’ reaction wasn’t arrogance, nor was it misplaced confidence. It was earned.


    The boy who had once hesitated, who had once doubted his own ability to land a proper strike, now stood over a defeated enemy. He hadn’t panicked. He hadn’t waited for rescue. He had adapted, analyzed, and struck when the moment was right.


    Nasir lifted a hand to his face, covering his mouth as his smirk widened. He had expected progress, but not this fast.


    ‘At this rate,’ he mused to himself, ‘he won’t just be a competent fighter—he’ll be dangerous.’


    Nasir watched in silence, his arms crossed, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t offer immediate praise or criticism.


    "I hesitated too much," he admitted, eyes still on the goblin’s body. "I could’ve finished it sooner if I attacked earlier instead of waiting for the perfect moment."


    Nasir nodded, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. "You’re not wrong," he said. "Your footwork was solid, but your attacks were lacking. You were too focused on avoiding mistakes instead of committing to your strikes. A strong offense can sometimes be the best defense—especially against something as predictable as a goblin."


    Yonas frowned, mulling over his words. He had spent so much time studying the goblin, learning its patterns, that he hadn’t trusted himself enough to act decisively.


    Next time, he thought, I won’t hold back.


    As they moved deeper into the forest, Nasir suddenly stopped. His head tilted slightly, his body tensing just enough for Yonas to notice.


    Yonas followed his gaze and saw it—a hole in the earth, unnaturally perfect in shape, as if something had carved it with deliberate precision. It was at least two meters wide, its edges smooth, unnervingly circular. But what unsettled Yonas the most was the absence of anything from within. There was no noise, no scent, no flicker of movement. It was a void.


    Nasir crouched beside it, picking up a small rock. Without a word, he tossed it in.


    Yonas listened. He waited.


    But no sound came.


    He blinked. “It… it didn’t hit the bottom?”


    Nasir didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and extended his hand. A small fireball flickered to life in his palm before he sent it down into the hole. The light should have illuminated the descent, revealing depth, contours—something.


    But instead, the fire vanished the moment it crossed the threshold, snuffed out in an instant as if it had been devoured.


    For the first time since they had begun their journey, Yonas saw a sliver of unease cross Nasir’s face.


    “This isn’t natural,” Nasir murmured, his voice quieter than before. “Not even close.”


    Yonas swallowed, his instincts screaming at him to step back, but he forced himself to stay put. He had seen plenty of strange things in the forest, but this was different. The unnatural silence around the hole, the way it seemed to consume sound and light—it felt wrong.


    Nasir stood up, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. There was no immediate danger, no growl in the distance, no shifting shadows in the underbrush. But that was the problem. The forest was never this quiet.


    Yonas turned to him. “Nasir… what is this?”


    Nasir exhaled slowly, his stance firm. “I don’t know,” he admitted. He reached for a small metal device on his belt, something Yonas had never seen him use before.


    He lifted the communicator to his lips.


    “This is Nasir,” he said, his voice taking on a formal edge. “Reporting an anomaly within Eldergrove. Coordinates unknown. Potential interference with elemental energy. Send word to the council.”


    He released the device, his jaw tightening.


    The only response was static.


    Nasir frowned, tapping the side of the communicator as if expecting it to suddenly work. The static remained, a low, droning hiss that sent a chill creeping up Yonas’ spine.


    "Interference?" Yonas guessed, though he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant in this context.


    Nasir exhaled sharply. "Something’s blocking the signal. And considering the only things that can do that are powerful elemental forces or artifacts, I’d rather not stay here longer than necessary."


    His voice was calm, but Yonas could see the tension in his posture, the way his muscles remained taut, ready for action. This wasn’t like him. Nasir never worried.


    That made it worse.


    Yonas glanced back at the hole, his stomach knotting. "So… what do we do?"


    Nasir didn’t answer right away. His eyes remained locked on the empty void before them, calculating, weighing possibilities. Then, with a quiet sigh, he sheathed his sword.


    "We leave," he said. "Now."


    But before they could take a step, the forest trembled.


    A deep, guttural screech echoed through the trees, so unnatural that Yonas’ blood ran cold. His ears rang, his body seizing up as the very air around them seemed to shudder.


    Then, emerging from the shadows, it came.


    The monster from Yonas’ dream.


    Yonas’ breath caught in his throat as the creature stepped into view. It was even more terrifying than in his dream—taller than Nasir, its gaunt, sinewy body covered in sickly pale skin that stretched over its frame like it had been starved for centuries. Its arms were too long, nearly dragging against the ground, ending in curved, knife-like claws that gleamed in the dim forest light.


    Its face was somehow even worse. It had no mouth, no visible way to speak, yet the piercing, bloodshot eyes bore into Yonas as though it were screaming into his mind. A long, jagged nose jutted from its face, twitching slightly as if sniffing the air.


    Yonas’ grip tightened on his sword, but the moment he shifted his stance, the monster’s head snapped toward him. He felt his stomach drop.


    It had sensed him. Immediately.


    And then it just… stood there. Motionless. Staring.


    Nasir hadn’t drawn his weapon yet, but his hand hovered near the hilt, his body unreadable. His silence was unsettling—Yonas knew his uncle well enough to tell when he was weighing his options. The fact that he hadn’t attacked yet meant one thing.


    Even he wasn’t sure what they were dealing with.


    Yonas'' pulse pounded in his ears as the eerie silence stretched on. The creature had screamed before—but how? It had no mouth, nothing that should have been able to produce sound. Yet he had felt it, the wail reverberating through his skull, shaking him to his core.


    He risked a glance at Nasir, whose eyes remained locked on the creature, his jaw tight. "How did it scream?" Yonas whispered, his voice barely audible.


    Nasir exhaled through his nose, his expression dark. "I don’t know."


    And that was the worst answer he could have given.


    The creature remained still, its grotesque, elongated body eerily poised, as though waiting for something. Yonas could feel its gaze pinning him in place, not just looking at him but through him. His fingers trembled around the hilt of his sword. Every instinct screamed at him to move, to run, to do something—but his body refused to obey.


    Then, without a single muscle twitching, the monster let out another scream.


    Yonas felt it more than he heard it. It wasn’t a sound in the air—it was a force, a crushing weight that rattled inside his skull, reverberating deep in his bones. His knees buckled, his vision blurred, and a stabbing pain shot through his head as if his very thoughts were being shaken apart.


    He clutched his temples, gritting his teeth, his breath coming in short gasps. "How—" The words barely escaped him before another wave of invisible pressure crashed into his mind.


    Nasir staggered slightly, his stance shifting to absorb the force, but his reaction was far more controlled. His fingers flexed, his jaw set, but there was something off—a sharp edge of uncertainty in his eyes.


    Yonas struggled to steady his breath. “What… what is that?” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.


    Nasir didn’t answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the creature, his fingers twitching near the hilt of his sword.


    “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low, almost grudging. “It’s screaming, but… there’s no sound.”


    That realisation made Yonas’ stomach twist. If there was no sound, then what was hitting them?


    The pressure suddenly stopped.


    Yonas gasped for air, his ears ringing in the unnatural silence that followed. His limbs felt weak, as though he had been sprinting for miles without rest. His heart pounded against his ribs.


    The monster hadn’t moved. It simply watched.


    And Yonas had the sickening feeling that the screaming had been a test.


    The stillness shattered in an instant.


    The largest creature’s head snapped forward, its body lurching as it suddenly sprinted toward them with terrifying speed.


    But it wasn’t alone.


    Two more figures emerged from the shadows, their gaunt, white-skinned bodies moving in perfect synchrony with the first. Their bloodshot eyes locked onto Nasir and Yonas, their elongated limbs jerking unnaturally as they moved.


    Then Yonas saw it—a fourth creature trailing just behind the others.


    It was smaller.


    His breath hitched. There can be smaller ones?


    He had assumed these monsters were a single, uniform kind, but the existence of a juvenile version threw that assumption out completely. Did they grow? Were there even bigger ones somewhere deeper in the Eldergrove? The realisation sent a fresh wave of unease through him, but he had no time to dwell on it.


    The first monster closed half the distance in a second. The way it moved was wrong—its limbs jerking in unnatural angles, yet somehow fluid, each step devouring the ground beneath it without resistance. There was no wasted motion, no sign of effort—just a blur of white skin and bloodshot eyes bearing down on them.


    A fresh wave of panic surged through Yonas’ body, his instincts screaming at him to move, to run—but Nasir was already acting.


    With a sharp motion, he shoved Yonas back, his voice cutting through the chaos.


    "Move!"


    Nasir’s sword was in his hands in an instant, his body shifting into a defensive stance just as the first monster lunged at him, its razor-sharp claws slicing through the air.


    The other two creatures veered outward, circling them, their movements eerily coordinated.


    Yonas stumbled, barely managing to regain his footing, his heart hammering in his chest. The miniature version of the creatures had its bloodshot gaze locked onto him specifically. It crouched lower, as if preparing to pounce.


    Nasir met the first strike head-on.