《1443》


 Chapter 1

    Chapter 1


    The bow in my hands felt heavier than I¡¯d imagined, its rough wood pressing into my palms, the string cold against my fingers. Each minute tremor in my arms made the bow creak softly like a constant reminder of the task at hand.


    The warm soothing air of the forest wrapped around me, mingling with the earthy scent of damp leaves and pine needles underfoot. Occasionally, a stray beam of sunlight pierced the canopy, casting fleeting patterns of light and shadow across the forest floor.


    Up ahead, in the clearing, a lone deer stood by a puddle of muddy water, its sleek fur a mix of browns and tans which blended with the surrounding forest. I watched as the deer¡¯s delicate muzzle dipped into the water, the surface rippling slightly with each sip.


    Its large, dark eyes were wide and alert, shifting nervously as it scanned its surroundings for any sign of danger. The ears, large and mobile, twitched with every sound¡ªa rustling leaf, a distant birdcall, the subtle creak of the forest.


    The deer¡¯s hind legs, strong and poised, shifted slightly as it adjusted its stance to drink more comfortably. The fur on its legs bristled slightly with each movement, the light catching on the soft, fine hairs. The deer¡¯s head bobbed gently as it took slow, measured sips from the muddy puddle, the water displacing small flecks of dirt with each dip.


    Its breathing was soft and rhythmic almost like a gentle contrast to the beating in my chest.


    ¡°Steady,¡± a voice broke through the stillness, his tone low, comforting yet quiet despite the gravity of the moment. His hand rested heavily on my shoulder, a solid presence that steadied my shaking arm.


    I glanced up at him, noting the rough texture of his familial face¡ªscarred and weathered from years of hardship. His bright grey eyes, sharp and intense, locked onto mine with an unspoken encouragement. Even the stubble on his chin seemed to bristle with the intensity of his focus.


    ¡°Aim for the heart,¡± he instructed, his voice a calming anchor in the tense silence. ¡°Remember what I said, just slightly above its elbow.¡±


    I shifted my gaze back to the deer, trying to steady my breathing as the bowstring pressed into my fingertips. The warmth of the sun on my face mixed with the cool, dampness of the forest, created a situation that seemed to heighten my awareness.


    The deer¡¯s ears twitched again, and its eyes widened momentarily, scanning the forest for any hint of movement.


    My focus narrowed on the deer¡¯s chest, the gentle rise and fall of its breathing drawing me in. I adjusted my aim, trying to align the arrow with the sweet spot. The bow in my hands felt like a living thing, a suppressed entity waiting to be unleashed.


    Drawing the bowstring back, I released the arrow.


    It flew through the air with a sharp whistle, but I watched in dismay as it narrowly missed its mark. The arrow struck just below the intended spot, embedding itself in the deer¡¯s side.


    Almost instantly, the deer bolted into the bushes, its sudden movement a blur of panic and grace. A trail of dark red blood smeared the ground, marking its frantic escape.


    ¡°I missed,¡± I said, my voice tinged with disappointment, the click of my tongue a reflexive expression of frustration.


    Despite that, the presence beside me gave me a reassuring nudge, I noticed that his expression remained calm and unperturbed, completely unshaken by my mistake.


    ¡°Come, you must finish it off,¡± he said, his tone practical yet encouraging.


    ¡°Yes, Father,¡± I replied, my spirits lifting despite the earlier setback.


    My father led the way through the forest, his steps deliberate and sure. The trail of blood was faint but unmistakable, a dark streak against the rich greens and browns of the forest floor. The scent of iron mingled with the earthy aroma of damp leaves and soil, guided us deeper into the dense undergrowth.


    The cool shade of the forest seemed to press in around us causing the warmth of the sunlight to become a distant memory.


    We soon emerged onto a small, grassy knoll where the deer lay collapsed. Its breaths were ragged and uneven, each one a struggle against the inevitable. The arrow, lodged deep in its side, had not hit its heart but inflicted enough damage to seal its fate.


    The deer''s fur was matted with sweat and blood, and the grass beneath it was stained dark red. The once vibrant eyes of the deer now appeared glazed, reflecting a mix of pain and resignation.


    My father approached the deer with a quiet solemnity, kneeling beside its head. His touch was gentle as he stroked the creature¡¯s fur, attempting to offer some comfort in its final moments. The deer¡¯s labored breaths were slow and heavy, each one coming with a painful effort.


    Father¡¯s hand moved delicately over the deer''s neck, his expression a blend of respect and sadness.


    ¡°Come here,¡± he said softly, his voice filled with a calm authority. He beckoned me, his gaze steady and resolute.


    ¡°You must end its suffering, come closer.¡±


    My heart pounded in my chest, its heavy weight pressing down upon me. I stepped forward, my steps hesitant as I approached the deer. The short iron knife at my side felt cool and unfamiliar, its weight both reassuring and intimidating. I unsheathed the blade, the metal catching the dappled light which filtered through the canopy.


    ¡°Right here,¡± my father instructed, his voice gentle but firm. He demonstrated with a soft caress of the deer¡¯s neck, his fingers tracing the area where the blade should be applied. ¡°Aim for the base, just above the shoulder. It needs to be quick and merciful.¡±


    I knelt beside the deer, its large, dark eyes meeting mine with a final, pleading look. The sight of its suffering tugged at my heart, filling me with a deep, unfounded sorrow. My hands began to tremble as I gripped the knife, the weighty task pressing heavily on my conscience.


    Taking a deep breath, I pressed the blade against the base of the deer¡¯s neck. My fingers felt clumsy and unsure, the knife cold and alien.


    With a swift and deliberate motion, I drew the blade across the deer''s neck.


    For a couple of moments, time seemed to stretch, the world narrowing to the sharp edge of the knife and the soft, warm blood that slowly swelled around.


    The deer¡¯s body tensed momentarily like a final shudder of life, before it grew still. Its labored breathing ceased, leaving only the quiet rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds.


    I stepped back, the knife still in my hand, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. The enormity of the act weighed heavily on me, the reality of the circle of life stark and surreal.


    My father placed a steady hand on my shoulder, his touch a reassuring presence amidst the gravity of the moment. ¡°Good,¡± he said quietly, his voice filled with a quiet respect.


    ¡°You¡¯ve done what needs be. It is not an easy thing, but it¡¯s a necessary part of being a hunter. Understand that you must always treat a wounded creature with equal humility and that you must always follow through; ending its suffering, quickly and merciful.¡±


    I looked at the lifeless form of the deer, feeling a form of sadness mingled with a tainted sense of accomplishment. Around us, the forest seemed to exhale, the peacefulness returning naturally as the cycle churned and continued without pause.


    ¡°Yes father, I understand.¡±


    Soon after, I watched as he took out a rough cloth from his satchel. Watching in silence as he pressed the cloth into the wound on the deer¡¯s neck, the once vibrant animal now motionless, its life fully spent. His movements were firm, pushing the fabric deep into the gash to stem the bleeding.


    Then, without a hint of struggle, he stood and¡ªgrasping the deer by its legs¡ªheaved the entire creature up and onto his broad shoulder. The sheer ease with which he did it left me wide-eyed, awe tightening in my chest. The deer hung limp against him, its full weight effortlessly carried as if it were nothing more than a sack of feathers.


    ¡°When will I be able to lift a deer like that?¡± I asked, trying to imagine myself doing the same but it almost seemed impossible.


    ¡°Keep doing the meditations,¡± he said without looking back, already beginning to walk through the trees again. ¡°Diligently.¡±


    I followed, watching the sway of the deer as it draped across his shoulder. The forest definitely felt different now, quieter. I thought about the meditations he¡¯d taught me, the way he¡¯d insisted on them since I was small. Sitting still, breathing in rhythm, imagining¡­ what, exactly?


    ¡°Why do we do the meditations?¡± I asked, stepping over a tree root, my curiosity now getting the better of me. It had been on my mind for a while, especially with how much he emphasized it. ¡°What does it really do?¡±


    My father¡¯s pace didn¡¯t change, but he glanced back at me, his expression thoughtful. ¡°It helps the body become attuned to the natural forces of the world,¡± he said, his voice carrying easily through the forest air. ¡°To cultivate power beyond imagination.¡±


    I frowned at that. ¡°But I''ve been doing the meditations for years now¡­ and I don¡¯t feel any different. I can¡¯t lift the deer like you can. Why?¡± I looked at his broad frame, at the ease with which he carried the heavy creature, and it didn¡¯t make sense. No matter how hard I tried to do what he taught, I was still just¡­ me.


    ¡°Patience,¡± my father said simply, his voice calm, almost cryptic. ¡°Power will come in time.¡±


    I wanted to ask more, to press him on it, but the words didn¡¯t come. The meditations always felt like sitting and breathing, nothing special. Maybe I was doing something wrong. My legs moved automatically as I fell into step beside him, still looking at the deer¡¯s limp body, its fur now dull and streaked with blood. The deer''s size now seemed small compared to my father¡¯s strength.


    I reached out and brushed my hand over the deer''s hind leg, its muscles still taut but lifeless now, like a statue that had crumbled under its own weight. How could something so strong, so full of life, fall so easily? How could I, with all the meditations and teachings, still feel so far from being like him?


    I followed closely behind, my feet crunched over the forest floor, soon I noticed the direction we were heading in. The path, I realized, was leading towards the village.


    I squinted up at my father. "Are we going to see Old Man Nogg?" I asked, already knowing the answer. I hadn¡¯t seen the old man in a while, and the thought of visiting him brought a smile to my face.


    "Are we selling the deer to him?"


    My father nodded, his pace steady as ever. "He asked me for a deer a couple of days ago. Thought we¡¯d deliver this one to him."


    A flutter of excitement sparked in my chest. It wasn¡¯t often we went to the village. In fact, I was only ever allowed to go when my father was with me. I never really questioned it; the village was a long trek, and the forest always felt more like home. But now, the idea of visiting the village stirred something inside me. I couldn¡¯t help but feel elated.


    I grinned. "It¡¯s been so long since we last went to the village," I said, trying to hide my eagerness. My father didn¡¯t look back, but I could feel his eyes on me.


    "It has," he said.


    The village, with its cobble stone streets, stalls, and people, was so different from our quiet life deep into the forest. It was always so full of life, and there was always something new to see. My mind drifted to the last time we were there, trying to remember all the odd and wonderful things I¡¯d come across.


    "Father," I asked as I quickened my pace to match his, "what new things do you think we¡¯ll see in the village?"


    He let out a quiet sigh, as if considering the question. "They should be preparing for a festival."


    A festival?


    I stopped in my tracks, the realization hitting me like a gust of wind. I¡¯d heard about the festivals, the songs and dances, the food and colours, but I¡¯d never actually been to one. I¡¯d always been told about them afterward, always a step removed, never a part of it.


    But now... could I actually get to see it?


    I hurried to catch up, practically bouncing on my feet. "Can we stay for the festival this time?" I asked, my voice a little too eager.


    "Please? I¡¯ve never seen one before."


    My father glanced down at me, and for a brief moment, I caught a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. There was something in his eyes, something that looked almost guilty.


    He nodded slowly. "This time," he said, "we¡¯ll stay. You can see the festival."


    I blinked, barely able to process what he said. "Really?" I asked, my heart racing with excitement. "We¡¯re staying?"


    He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made my chest heave. "Yes, really."


    The excitement inside me boiled, and I couldn¡¯t help but break into a wide grin. The village, the festival, everything felt like an adventure waiting just ahead.


    "What¡¯s the festival for?" I asked, curious now.


    "It¡¯s a celebration," he explained, shifting the deer on his shoulder as we walked. "A blessing for the village, hoping for a good season. Successful harvests, healthy animals, that sort of thing."


    "Will it be fun?"


    My father laughed again, a sound that made me feel light on my feet. "Yes," he said, "it¡¯ll be fun. You¡¯ll see."


    I couldn¡¯t contain my excitement. The village, the festival, the promise of something new¡ªit was all too much. My thoughts raced ahead to what the night might hold, the sights and sounds, the people and their laughter.


    For once, I was going to see it all.


    ...


    The village gates loomed ahead, towering above the path. Even from a distance, I could see the thick wooden planks of the double doors, held together by iron bands that seemed as old as the village itself. Surrounding the gates were the tall palisades, jagged wooden stakes thrust into the earth, forming a barrier around the entire settlement.


    It was always a sight that filled me with awe.


    I remembered asking father about them a long time ago. He had said the walls were a must, built to keep out the monsters that roamed the forest beyond. A necessary structure, he called it, because the forest wasn¡¯t exactly a safe place, especially at night.


    And I believed him; even though we hadn¡¯t run into many monsters during our hunts, the few we did encounter... well, father always handled them. Thinking back, I realized I had never fought one by myself. He always made sure our home stayed safe, always handled the danger before it ever reached me.


    As we approached the gates, two guards stood at the forefront. Their armor was a far cry from the stories of shining knights and noble warriors. Rough leather, old and fraying at the edges, clung to their bodies. It looked like they hadn¡¯t replaced it in years.


    Their spears, tipped with dull metal, leaned against their shoulders with little vigor. One of them, a young man, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking bored. But the other, an older man with greying hair, squinted toward us, a look of recognition dawning in his eyes.


    It was him who spoke first. "Well, well, I see you''ve brought me a fine deer this time," he said, voice gruff but friendly. He stepped forward with a slow but practiced gait, leaning on his spear for support. His eyes flicked toward me, and I nodded back, trying to remember his name.


    Bob, I thought. Yeah, Bob. I¡¯d seen him on my previous visits.


    "Good haul today, eh?" Bob said, nudging his spear toward the deer on father¡¯s shoulder. Father gave a short nod in reply, not one for many words.


    Bob glanced at me again, giving me a quick smile before turning back to the gate. ¡°Well go on in.¡± With a wave of his hand, the younger guard moved to pull the doors open, the creaking of wood breaking the silence. Father walked through without hesitation, and I scurried after him, eager to step into the village.


    As soon as I passed through the gates, my breath was immediately caught in my throat.


    The village was alive.


    Everywhere I looked, buildings were draped in bright-colored petals and bundles of flowers, the air thick with the scent of blooms. The decorations seemed to glow in the afternoon sun, vivid yellows, reds, and blues, scattered like confetti along the streets.


    The villagers themselves were just as festive. Men, women, and children alike wore pressed flowers pinned to their simple clothes, the petals woven into their shirts and dresses. Even the youngest children, running barefoot along the dusty road, had garlands of flowers hanging around their necks.


    I stood still, taking it all in, trying to memorize every detail. The laughter of the children, the sound of feet shuffling through the dirt, the smell of flowers mixed with the earthy scent of the village. It was... perfect. More alive than I ever remembered it.


    Father''s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Come along," he called from up ahead.


    I blinked and snapped out of my reverie, quickly falling in step beside him. My eyes were still wandering though, drawn to the vibrant colors and the joyous faces around me. I had never seen the village like this, and I wasn¡¯t about to miss a second of it.


    We walked along the cobblestone paths, weaving through the crowds of villagers as they bustled between stalls. The festival had brought out merchants from all over¡ªfood, tools, trinkets, and other odds and ends lined the wooden tables.


    I watched the villagers haggle and chat, their laughter mixing with the smells of roasting meats and freshly baked bread. Every stall seemed to have something unique, something colorful, but what really caught my attention was a small booth off to the side.


    Pressed flowers.


    They were laid out on a simple cloth, a vibrant display of colors¡ªyellows, purples, and reds, each one neatly pinned or tied into intricate patterns. I stared for a moment at the flowers, then glanced down at my chest, where the empty space on my simple hide tunic seemed to stand out. All the villagers wore the flowers, part of the festival spirit. It made them look... complete.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I tugged lightly at my clothes, feeling the bare, undecorated leather under my fingers. I wanted one¡ªjust a small piece, something to feel like I belonged here too.


    But I quickly shook my head and turned back to follow father, reminding myself that we had work to do. This wasn¡¯t the time for such things.


    We walked further until we reached the far end of the village, where Old Man Nogg''s house sat. The structure was as plain as I remembered it¡ªmodest, with a thatched roof that sagged slightly in the middle, and a few small windows set into the walls. Smoke billowed lazily from the chimney, curling up into the sky.


    Behind the house, a small open smithy jutted out, its forge cold for now, the tools neatly arranged along the wall. Nogg was the village blacksmith, and though his workshop wasn¡¯t grand, it was well-kept and just large enough for him to work alone.


    On the front porch, I spotted old Nogg himself, slouched in his old rocking chair. He was wearing that same straw hat, the one that always seemed to hide his face, and the chair creaked with each slow sway as he slept. The man barely moved, even with the noise of the festival surrounding him.


    I almost wondered if he was dead, but then I caught the slight rise and fall of his chest.


    Father walked ahead of me and stopped at the edge of the porch, clearing his throat before calling out, ¡°Old man Nogg.¡±


    The creaking stopped. Nogg stirred, slowly lifting his hand to push up the brim of his hat. His eyes, clouded with age and laziness, squinted toward us, taking a moment to recognize who stood before him. "Ah... so it''s you," he rasped, voice slow like he hadn¡¯t fully woken up. He sat up straighter in the chair, looking over at the deer slung over father''s shoulder.


    ¡°Well, I see you¡¯ve brought me my request,¡± Nogg said, tipping his hat back as he stretched out his legs and stood up with a groan. He walked down the steps of the porch with a slow, deliberate pace, the creaking of his joints almost as loud as the chair had been.


    I stood a little behind father, watching as Nogg approached. The old man didn¡¯t move fast, but there was something steady about him, like he¡¯d been doing this for longer than anyone in the village could remember. His eyes shifted to me for a brief moment, the same lazy gaze he always gave me.


    Father nodded once, shifting the weight of the deer on his shoulder. ¡°As you asked.¡±


    Nogg scratched at his chin, then lazily gestured toward the deer. ¡°Bring it round the back. We¡¯ll get it sorted.¡±


    Father nodded again and moved toward the side of the house, and I followed closely behind, casting one last glance back at the festive village square.


    The back of the house felt cooler, away from the bustle of the village. I watched as father laid the deer down by the drying rack. Nogg moved a little slower than before, his joints creaking as he knelt by the deer, running his calloused hands along its side.


    ¡°Hang it up over here,¡± Nogg said, gesturing to the rack. "Gotta let it bleed out into the bucket.¡±


    Father didn¡¯t hesitate, easily lifting the deer up by its hind legs and hooking them onto the rack. I marveled again at how effortless he made it look, barely a grunt or groan as the full weight of the animal dangled in the air, suspended over the old, battered bucket that sat below it.


    Nogg approached the deer with a knife in hand, the blade gleaming even in the dull light. With slow, practiced movements, he widened the wound that I had made. The cloth that had been lodged into the neck to stem the bleeding was soaked red. Nogg tugged it free, wringing out the cloth into another bucket this one filled with water.


    ¡°Clean that up, kid,¡± father said, nodding to me as he and Nogg started talking.


    I took the bucket and cloth and walked over to the side. Dunking the cloth in and out, I scrubbed it repeatedly, watching the water turn a light pink as the blood drained from the fabric. I thought back to how many times I¡¯d done this before.


    The cloth was always used after a kill, something father insisted on every time we hunted. It kept the blood from trailing, made sure no other predators could follow us back. It was practical, something I never questioned. As I washed, I could hear the low murmur of father¡¯s conversation with Nogg in the background, their words breaking the stillness of the forest around us.


    ¡°The festival preparations are coming along, then?¡± father asked, his voice steady.


    ¡°Aye,¡± Nogg replied, his tone casual as he knelt by the bucket, dipping his knife in to clean it. ¡°Been busy as always this time of year. The village is buzzing like it always does. But there''s more to it this year. Things feel... different.¡±


    Father¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°Well...¡± Nogg continued, his voice low. ¡°Been getting word of visitors. Strangers. Not your typical festival-goers, either. Some of them were armed.¡±


    I stopped scrubbing for a second, my ears pricking up at that. Armed? My eyes darted toward the two men, but I kept my hands busy, squeezing the cloth between my fingers.


    ¡°Armed?¡± father repeated, sounding more curious than concerned.


    Nogg chuckled softly, his hand tightening on the knife. ¡°Not the usual rabble with sticks, mind you. Proper weapons. Swords and the like. Fine craftsmanship. I saw some of them yesterday. Passed through the village like ghosts, didn¡¯t speak much. But their weapons¡­ those blades were something else.¡±


    Father remained quiet for a moment, thinking. ¡°You think they¡¯re here for the festival?¡±


    Nogg shrugged, his lazy eyes scanning the deer. ¡°Maybe. Maybe not. Hard to say. They could be travelers just passing through, but¡­¡± He trailed off, squinting at father. ¡°You¡¯ve been hunting deeper into the forest lately. Seen anything strange? Anything that might draw attention?¡±


    Father shook his head. ¡°The usual. Monsters, wolves, the occasional predator. Nothing out of the ordinary.¡±


    ¡°Makes sense...but,¡± Nogg muttered, wiping his hands on his apron. ¡°Just be careful. There¡¯s a feeling in the air. I can¡¯t place it, but something¡¯s off.¡±


    I wrung out the last of the blood from the cloth, glancing over at father as he exchanged a knowing look with Nogg. The talk of armed strangers made me uneasy, though I didn¡¯t know why. Maybe it was the way Nogg spoke, or the way father¡¯s face remained so calm, despite the news.


    Father turned to me then, his voice cutting through the tension. ¡°How¡¯s that cloth coming along?¡±


    I held it up, wrung clean. ¡°Done.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He nodded, his expression softening just a bit. ¡°Let¡¯s finish up here.¡±


    As the last of the blood dripped into the bucket, Nogg wiped his hands on his apron and turned toward me, his face creasing into a smile that pushed the straw hat back on his head. His eyes, though lazy, held a warmth that always made me feel at ease.


    "How¡¯ve you been, kid?" Nogg asked, his voice slow and gravelly like a rock tumbling down a hill. "Still keeping your father busy?"


    I wiped my hands on my trousers and nodded. ¡°Yeah, we¡¯ve been hunting a lot. I¡¯m getting better,¡± I said with confidence pointing towards my bow.


    Nogg chuckled softly, the lines around his eyes deepening. ¡°Good, good. You know, I could use a hand in the forge again if you¡¯re up for it. You did a fine job last time, and I could teach you more if you¡¯re interested perhaps even improve that bow of yours.¡±


    The offer piqued my interest. I remembered the last time I¡¯d worked in the forge, the heat radiating off the anvil, the way the iron glowed like embers under Nogg¡¯s hammer. It was exhausting, but there was something satisfying about shaping metal with my own hands. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off by father¡¯s deep voice.


    ¡°Another time, perhaps,¡± father said, his tone polite but firm. ¡°We¡¯ve got other things to do. But we¡¯ll keep your offer in mind.¡±


    Nogg scratched his chin, his eyes flicking between us. ¡°Fair enough. Just thought I¡¯d offer.¡±


    I nodded in agreement, though part of me was disappointed. Working the forge was different from hunting. There was a kind of permanence to it¡ªlike you were leaving a mark on something that would last longer than a single day.


    Still, I knew father had other plans.


    After a few moments, Nogg ambled over to a small stash by his forge, rummaging through it before pulling out a roped bundle. He walked back over and handed it to father with a nod. ¡°For the deer, as promised. Fresh iron-tipped arrows, an axe, and a spare hide. Already processed, so you won¡¯t have to worry about it.¡±


    Father inspected the bundle, running his hand over the materials, before giving Nogg a nod of approval. ¡°This will do nicely. Thanks old man.¡±


    Nogg waved it off with a lazy hand. ¡°Always happy to trade, you know that.¡±


    With the deal done, father hefted the bundle over his shoulder, and we began to make our way back toward the village. As we stepped back onto the cobblestone streets, the festival was already in full swing. The atmosphere was alive with sound and colour, pulling me in like a magnet.


    The first thing that caught my eye was the large bonfire in the center of the village square. It was towering, flames licking the orange sky, sending sparks spiraling upward into the atmosphere. Around it, villagers danced in circles, their faces lit up with joy as the fire cast long shadows on the cobblestones.


    Men, women, and children moved in rhythm to the beat of drums and flutes, their feet tapping, their arms swaying. I could hear the thrum of the drums in my chest, feel the vibration in the air, and it made me want to join in.


    Father caught my expression and gave me a slight nod. ¡°Go ahead. Enjoy the festival. Just stay close.¡±


    I didn¡¯t need to be told twice. Grinning, I rushed toward the square, weaving through the crowd of villagers, my eyes wide with excitement. The smell of roasted meat filled the air, mingling with the sweet scent of honey cakes being sold at one of the stalls. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn¡¯t eaten since our hunt earlier that day.


    Near the bonfire, I spotted a group of kids tossing a leather ball to each other, laughing and running as they tried to keep it from hitting the ground. One of the boys noticed me watching and waved me over.


    ¡°Hey! Want to join?¡±


    I hesitated for a second, glancing back to see if father was watching. He stood at the edge of the square, talking to one of the villagers, his back to me. Feeling a surge of excitement, I nodded and joined the game. The ball was soft in my hands, worn from use, and I found myself running and laughing with the other kids, the thrill of the festival wrapping around me like a warm blanket.


    As the day wore on, more activities filled the village square. A pair of performers dressed in vibrant clothes stood on stilts, juggling flaming torches, their movements precise and daring. I watched, mesmerized, as they tossed the torches back and forth, the fire reflecting in their grinning faces. The crowd cheered as one of them flipped a torch into the air and caught it behind his back.


    A little later, I wandered through the market stalls, looking at the different trinkets and tools for sale. One stall had carved wooden animals, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. Another displayed colourful ribbons and cloth, which the women of the village were already pinning to their dresses.


    But it was the flowers that caught my eye again¡ªthe pressed flowers that the villagers wore on their clothes, vibrant and delicate.


    I paused by the stall selling them, staring down at the blooms. My hand twitched, wanting to reach out and take one. But I thought of father and how we hadn¡¯t come here for such things. I shook my head once more and turned away, following the path back toward the square where the bonfire roared.


    As I arrived back near the fire, I found father waiting for me, his face illuminated by the flickering flames. He gave me a small smile, a rare expression for him, and motioned for me to sit beside him on one of the benches lining the square.


    ¡°Did you enjoy the festival?¡± he asked, his tone lighter than usual.


    I nodded, still feeling the heat of the fire on my skin and the sound of the drums echoing in my ears. ¡°Yeah¡­ it¡¯s amazing.¡±


    Father leaned back, watching the dancers for a moment. ¡°It¡¯s good for you to see these things. Life isn¡¯t all about hunting I suppose¡±, he paused looking at the sky.


    ¡°It¡¯s getting late¡±, he continued softly, ¡°We...need to return.¡±


    There was a hint of thoughtfulness in his tone as if there was something on his mind but I shrugged it off, I knew I couldn¡¯t stay in the village for long, ¡°I understand, let¡¯s go father¡± I said with consideration.


    With that, we exited the village.


    As the last echoes of the festival faded into the distance, father and I made our way back into the forest. The crickets¡¯ persistent chirping filled the air, blending with the rustle of leaves underfoot. The howl of distant wolves sent a shiver down my spine, though I tried not to show it.


    Father¡¯s presence had always been enough to quell my fears, but as the last traces of twilight slipped away and the forest was bathed in deepening shadow, I felt the weight of the wilderness pressing in.


    Father lit a wooden torch, the small flame danced as it fought against the encroaching night. The flickering light cast jagged shadows across the path, making the familiar woods seem more menacing than usual.


    I kept close to him, watching the light sway with every step. The comforting sounds of the village¡¯s celebration faded completely now, replaced only by the hooting of an owl somewhere in the distance and the whispering wind through the branches above.


    After what felt like an eternity, we finally reached the clearing where our house sat. The decrepit wooden lodge was perched on the small hill, its silhouette dark and foreboding against the night sky. The familiar sight usually brought a sense of relief¡ªa return to safety.


    But tonight, something felt different.


    Father suddenly stopped in his tracks, so abruptly that I bumped into him, my nose colliding with his back. ¡°Ow¡­¡± I muttered, rubbing my nose in confusion.


    ¡°What¡­?¡±


    I glanced past his waist, squinting into the darkness ahead. Our home stood silent, the windows black and empty, no light flickering from within. There was no sound of the fire crackling inside, no warmth waiting to greet us. The torch in father¡¯s hand barely illuminated the front of the house, casting weak light on the weathered wood.


    ¡°There¡¯s nothing there¡­¡± I mumbled, more to myself than to him. But something was wrong¡ªfather was tense. I could see it in the way he held himself, his entire body poised like a coiled spring. His eyes narrowed, scanning the shadows around the house with an intensity that made my skin crawl.


    I opened my mouth to ask what was going on, but before I could say a word, a sharp whistle pierced the air.


    In a blur of motion, father lunged to the side, throwing out his hand. A sudden pain shot through my chest as I felt something fly past my face¡ªan arrow. I barely had time to register it before blood spattered across my cheeks, warm and thick. I gasped in shock, freezing in place as I looked up at father¡¯s outstretched arm.


    The arrow had buried itself deep into his hand, the shaft trembling from the force of the impact. His fingers clenched around it, blood pouring from the wound in thick rivulets, staining the ground below. For a second, I could only stare, my mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened.


    "Father!" I gasped, stepping back instinctively, my heart racing. My voice came out in a panicked whisper, my eyes wide as I saw the blood dripping from his wound.


    But father didn¡¯t flinch. His face remained cold, his body still as stone as he slowly lowered his arm, keeping me shielded behind him. His eyes were fixed ahead, locked on the darkness around the house.


    Then, from the shadows, a voice slithered out, mocking and malicious.


    ¡°Oh, you caught that?¡±


    The voice was laced with cruel amusement. Two figures emerged from the darkness, just barely visible in the flickering torchlight. Both were clad in dark, loose-fitting robes, their faces partially obscured by hoods, but their expressions were unmistakable¡ªsickeningly confident.


    "Catching that was a bad idea, you know," one of them sneered, his voice dripping with malice.


    The taller of the two, with a face as sharp and narrow as a rat¡¯s, twirled his dagger lazily between his fingers. "But what do I know? The kid would''ve been dead if you hadn''t." His eyes gleamed as they flicked to me, a cruel smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.


    "I¡¯m more surprised you caught an arrow like that. I guess what they say is true¡ªskills never leave you, even if you¡¯re disabled."


    I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the weight of the situation crashing down on me. Disabled? My eyes flicked up to father¡¯s face, but he was as stoic as ever, his expression unreadable as he stared down the two men. Blood still dripped steadily from the wound in his hand, but he didn¡¯t show a hint of pain.


    The other man, broader and more imposing, took a step forward, his boots crunching against the dry leaves scattered on the ground. His hood shadowed most of his face, but I could make out the gleam of his eyes as they glared at us. "You¡¯ve been hiding out here for too long. Think you can just ignore your past forever?" His voice was deep, gravelly, as if it had been dragged through stone.


    The torchlight flickered against father¡¯s sharp features. I could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. My pulse quickened as I struggled to make sense of what was happening. Father¡¯s past? What were they talking about?


    ¡°You know you can¡¯t hide forever. The past has caught up to you."


    Father said nothing, but I could see the subtle shift in his posture¡ªready, tense. His free hand went to his side, where the newly gifted axe from Nogg was strapped to his belt. The two men exchanged glances, their sneers fading as they realized what he was about to do.


    With a sudden, sharp movement, father tossed the torch aside, plunging the clearing into near darkness. The only sounds were the rustle of leaves in the wind and the distant crackling of the torch as it smoldered on the ground.


    Father wasted no time. He pulled the axe free with a sharp, metallic ring, gripping it tightly in his uninjured hand. The weapon looked heavy, but he swung it with ease, his breath steady despite the tension in the air.


    The tall man sneered, stepping forward. ¡°Think you can fight us off with that? You''re not who you used to be, old man.¡±


    Without warning, the broad man lunged at father, his blade flashing in the darkness. Father sidestepped the attack, bringing the axe down with brutal force. The broad man barely managed to block it, his weapon clashing against the iron edge of the axe with a deafening clang. Sparks flew from the impact, but the force of the blow knocked the man off balance.


    Father pressed forward, swinging the axe again, aiming for the broad man¡¯s midsection. The man grunted, trying to fend off the relentless strikes, but father was faster¡ªstronger. For a moment, it seemed like he had the upper hand, his movements sharp and precise despite the injury to his hand.


    But the tall man didn¡¯t stand idle. As father focused on his opponent, the second man darted in from the side, his dagger slashing toward father¡¯s exposed back. Father twisted at the last second, but the blade bit deep into his side, a flash of blood spraying into the night.


    I gasped, my heart lurching as I watched the crimson streak arc through the air. Father staggered, gritting his teeth as he swung the axe wildly in the direction of his new attacker, but the tall man was already retreating, smirking as he wiped the blood from his blade.


    ¡°You¡¯re getting slow, old man,¡± he taunted, circling around father like a predator stalking its prey. ¡°Not so fearsome anymore, are you?¡±


    Father¡¯s breathing was heavy now, his movements slower as the wound in his side bled freely, staining his clothes a dark, glistening red. Still, he didn¡¯t retreat. He held his ground, swinging the axe in wide arcs to keep both men at bay.


    But they were relentless.


    The broad man rushed him again, his weapon aimed at father¡¯s legs. Father blocked it with the axe, but the force of the blow sent him stumbling backward. The tall man took the opportunity to strike again, his dagger slicing across father¡¯s arm, leaving another deep gash. Blood dripped from father¡¯s fingertips, soaking the handle of the axe.


    Panic surged through me as I watched them overpower him, blow after blow wearing him down. Father grunted in pain, his breathing ragged as he tried to fend off their attacks. But they were faster, stronger, and there were two of them.


    Then, in a sickening moment, it happened.


    The broad man swung his weapon low, catching father off guard. The blade bit into his leg, and he collapsed to one knee with a sharp cry of pain. The tall man was on him in an instant, his dagger slashing down. Father raised the axe to block it, but the blade slipped past, slicing deep into his arm¡ªtoo deep.


    There was a wet, sickening sound as the blade cut through flesh and bone, and then, in a horrifying instant, father¡¯s arm was gone. Blood sprayed into the air, splattering the ground as father cried out, his voice filled with pain and rage. The axe slipped from his hand, clattering uselessly to the ground.


    "No!" I screamed, my voice breaking as I watched in horror, my body frozen in place. Father clutched at the bloody stump where his arm had been, his face pale and twisted in agony.


    The tall man stepped back, breathing heavily, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and exhilaration. "Didn¡¯t expect that, did you?" he sneered, wiping the blood from his blade.


    Father, bleeding and broken, looked up at me, his eyes filled with pain¡ªbut also with something else. Desperation.


    "Run," he rasped, his voice barely audible. "Run, and don¡¯t look back."


    I hesitated, my body trembling with fear and confusion. How could I leave him like this? How could I run while he was dying?


    "GO!" he shouted, his voice hoarse but filled with authority.


    But I couldn¡¯t leave him. Not like this.


    I fumbled for the bow I had carried from the hunt, my hands shaking as I nocked an arrow. The bowstring felt alien in my grip, my fingers slipping over the string, but I forced myself to focus. My father had taught me how to hunt, how to aim. I had to use that now, even if I was no expert.


    With trembling hands, I drew the bowstring back, the muscles in my arms straining against the tension. The bow felt heavy, unyielding, but I kept my aim steady, trying to focus on the figures ahead. The broad man was advancing on my father, his weapon gleaming in the scant light. Meanwhile, the tall man was sneering, enjoying the suffering he had caused.


    I took a deep breath and released the arrow, watching it sail through the air. It was an awkward shot, my aim unsteady, but it struck the broad man in the shoulder with a dull thud. He let out a shout of pain and surprise, his hand flying to the wound. Enraged, he turned towards me, his eyes blazing with fury.


    ¡°You little fool!¡± he roared, charging towards me with murderous intent.


    I froze, panic clawing at my chest. The bow was still in my hands, but I had no idea how to defend myself against a man of such strength and skill.


    In that moment of sheer terror, I saw my father¡¯s face. Despite the agony etched on his features, there was a fierce determination in his eyes. He looked at me with a mix of regret and fierce love, his body struggling to hold on.


    ¡°Run!¡± he bellowed, his voice strained but filled with unyielding authority. ¡°Run now! Don¡¯t worry about me! Go!¡±


    But I couldn¡¯t move. My legs felt like lead, paralyzed by fear. The broad man was getting closer, and the tall man¡¯s sinister grin was burning into my soul.


    Then, something extraordinary happened.


    Father¡¯s face twisted with a sudden, intense effort. He gritted his teeth, and his eyes glowed with an unnatural light. I watched in awe and horror as metal began to ripple from his body, forming chains and shackles that seemed to pulse with a dark energy. The chains writhed and lashed out, wrapping around the attackers and pulling them back with a force that seemed to drain the very life from my father.


    The broad man let out a cry of shock as the metal chains wrapped around his arms and legs, their grip like iron bands tightening around him. The tall man fared no better, his own movements constricted as the chains dug into his wounds, causing him to scream in pain.


    Father''s body was shaking violently, his face pale as the metal continued to lash out, sparking and crackling with dark energy. It was a final, desperate act, a last burst of power fueled by sacrifice. He was using a power he had kept suppressed, a last measure that was draining his life force with every second.


    ¡°GO NOW!¡± Father¡¯s voice was a strained roar, filled with both authority and anguish. ¡°Don¡¯t look back! Just go!¡±


    As I stood frozen in the shadows, the world around me seemed to implode into chaos. Just when I thought I was about to take a step, another figure emerged from the darkness. His presence was almost supernatural, as though he had materialized from the very night itself.


    He said a single word.


    ¡°Insolence,¡± he boomed with a voice like ice, his tone dripping with contempt.


    I barely had time to react before he moved. With a swift, fluid motion, he extended his hand downward, and from the void of nothingness, a massive black sword materialized, its edge gleaming ominously in the dim light. The blade was impossibly large, forged from shadows and darkness.


    The man ordered the sword with ease, bringing it down with terrifying precision. It sliced through the air and struck my father with a sickening thud. The sword impaled him into the ground, pinning him with a force that sent shockwaves through the clearing. My father¡¯s body was pinned upright against the blade, his form trembling violently from the impact.


    The metal shackles, which had been restraining the two attackers, shattered and fell away, the power of the sword overriding the last vestiges of Father¡¯s desperate defense. The two attackers, momentarily freed, staggered back, their faces a mixture of pain and rage.


    I watched in sheer horror, my heart pounding in my chest as my father¡¯s gaze locked onto mine. His expression was one of unbearable pain and unspoken resolve. Yet despite the brutal injury, he did not cry out.


    His lips moved silently, forming a single word.


    It was as if time had stopped. The agony etched across my father''s face was a silent scream that filled my soul with despair. His eyes, however, were resolute, pleading with me to escape even as he suffered.


    A surge of terror and sorrow hit me like a tidal wave. My legs felt like they were frozen to the ground, but his command pierced through my shock.


    He wanted me to flee. I had to obey.


    In a daze, I turned and fled, the sounds of battle and my father¡¯s silent suffering fading behind me. My eyes were blurred with tears stifled only by the rage boiling in my veins, the darkness of the forest swallowing me whole as I stumbled through the underbrush, my breath coming in ragged desperation.


    The forest seemed endless, the branches clawing at me as I ran blindly, guided only by sheer instinct and the overwhelming need to escape. The sounds of the night were drowned out by the weight of what I had left behind.


    I ran even as exhaustion claimed me, I did not stop, my mind repeated the echoes of his final command.


    ¡°Run.¡±

 Chapter 2

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

 Chapter 3

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

 Chapter 4

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

 Chapter 5

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

 Chapter 6

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

 Chapter 7

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

 Chapter 8

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

 Chapter 9

    Chapter 9


    I sat in the dim light of my temporary shelter, the soft crackle of the fire the only sound cutting through the silence. My hands ached from the effort, the stick I had been using to spark the fire now discarded beside me. After what felt like hours, the flames finally took hold, flickering hungrily over the dry branches and tinder.


    I stared at the small fire, its warmth brushing against my skin as I held a fish skewered on a stick over the flames, turning it every now and then as the skin sizzled and blistered.


    The smell of cooking fish should have brought some comfort, but it barely registered. My mind drifted, the heat of the flames doing little to thaw the cold pit in my stomach. What was I doing here? In any of this? The more I thought about it, the less I seemed to know.


    I don¡¯t even have a name¡ªat least, not one I could remember. Its like the world started the moment I woke up in that dark place. Everything before that? Nothing. A void. And now, here I am, a stranger to myself, alone in the wilderness, fighting to survive.


    My thoughts circled back to the fragments of dreams that frequented me. Broken memories, perhaps? A wooden lodge. An arrow. Blood. Faces blurred at the edges of my mind, voices that spoke in riddles.


    Are they real? Or is my mind playing tricks on me, offering pieces of something I can¡¯t grasp? I try to focus, to pull those fragments together, but it¡¯s like trying to hold water in my hands. The harder I try, the faster they slip away.


    Then there was the pain. Sharp and sudden, a jagged spike driving through the base of my skull. What was that? The pain is too real, too raw, to be just a product of my confusion. Just what happened to me?


    And why can¡¯t I remember?


    I forced myself to breathe, slow and steady, pushing the questions aside. I couldn¡¯t afford to let my mind spiral¡ªnot here, not now. The flickering flames came back into focus, and with them, the acrid smell of burning fish.


    Shit!


    I muttered under my breath, pulling the skewer from the fire. The skin was charred in places, the meat not as tender as I would¡¯ve liked, but I didn¡¯t have the luxury to care. I was starving.


    I tore into it, eating quickly, the charred edges crumbling between my teeth. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough to settle the gnawing hunger in my stomach. After a few bites, I reached for the gourd I¡¯d pilfered from those monsters, tilting it to my lips. The water was cool, easing the dryness in my throat as I drank deeply.


    For a moment, the firelight and the sound of crackling wood pulled me back to the present, grounding me in the simple act of survival. But the questions lingered, lurking at the edges of my mind like shadows just beyond the fire¡¯s reach.


    Who am I?


    Just as I finished eating, a soft patter of dust and debris fell from overhead, scattering across the ground. I froze, noticing the strangeness of it¡ªthe sudden shift in the air. Before long, I heard it¡ªa distant rumble, faint but unmistakable, like the tremors of an earthquake.


    The vibrations traveled through the earth, shaking the floor beneath me. I stilled, every sense attuned to the growing noise. What is that? The question nagged at me as I tightened my grip on the makeshift spear.


    Rumble.


    The ground quaked more violently now, causing the boulders around me to groan and shift under the increasing pressure. I could feel it¡ªthe weight of something massive drawing closer. My breath caught in my throat as a hairline crack splintered across the stone, crawling up the surface of the boulder.


    Without thinking, I moved, grabbing everything useful before diving out of the shelter just as more dust rained down from above. I scrambled, heart pounding as I threw myself into a nearby bush, crouching low beneath the cover of leaves.


    The rumbling grew louder, reverberating through the forest like a low growl of thunder. My eyes fixed on the treeline ahead. The trees swayed and groaned under the force of whatever was approaching, their branches snapping like fragile twigs. Each impact against the ground sent a jolt through my body.


    Whatever this thing was, it was massive. Instinct told me to retreat, to run as far as I could, but curiosity¡ªstupid, reckless curiosity¡ªkept me in place.


    I stayed hidden, barely breathing, my heart hammering in my chest.


    And then, through the swaying trees, it appeared.


    A giant. No¡ªnot a giant¡ªa moving mountain.


    The first thing I saw was its foot, easily the size of the largest boulders around, crushing a towering tree in its path like it was nothing more than a sapling. The cracking of wood and the sound of the earth groaning beneath its weight sent shivers down my spine. As the massive creature emerged from the treeline, I felt the sheer power of its presence.


    A golem.


    It was made entirely of stone, jagged and uneven, with thick, slab-like arms and legs that looked as if they had been carved straight from the earth. Its skin, if you could call it that, was rough and mottled with patches of moss and dirt.


    Each step it took made the ground tremble, its sheer weight causing the earth to buckle beneath its feet. And towering over the trees, its head was a blocky, misshapen rock with two massive, glowing eyes that burned a bright, unnatural light.


    I couldn¡¯t tear my gaze away.


    It moved slowly, its limbs grinding together with every step, sending deep, rumbling vibrations through the air. But it was what lay in its chest that caught my attention¡ªthree small, red, glowing spheres embedded in its upper chest cavity.


    My heart skipped a beat. I recognized them instantly. The same red orb the hooded man had shown.


    Search and destroy.


    I mumbled, staring at that red spheres. Could this massive creature be what I was meant to destroy? The mere thought of it made my stomach twist. How could anyone destroy something this colossal?


    It''s simply impossible...


    The golem took another step, and the ground shook again, sending another wave of tremors through the earth. I ducked lower into the bush, gripping the spear tighter, unsure of what to do next.


    However, something else caught my attention¡ªa rustle, faint, yet distinct, from the foliage just beyond the creature. My muscles tensed, every instinct screaming to remain vigilant. From the bushes, another figure emerged.


    A boy.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I recognized him immediately. He was one of the six children from before, from the cell block.


    The boy moved with a cautious, almost deliberate grace, his eyes locked on the glowing red sphere embedded in the golem¡¯s chest. His movements were purposeful, as if he knew exactly what he was doing¡ªor at least, what he wanted to do.


    Is he trying to reach the sphere? I couldn¡¯t be sure, but it seemed likely. Whatever his plan was, it seemed reckless.


    The golem, however, paid him no mind. It continued its slow, lumbering steps, oblivious to the boy tailing it. Each step shook the ground, but the boy was agile, darting from cover to cover, his eyes fixed on the red orb.


    For a moment, I considered calling out to him. Maybe he knew something I didn¡¯t¡ªmaybe he had some kind of plan, a way to destroy the thing. But then, I hesitated. It felt wrong to interrupt. Better to watch, to observe from a distance. There was too much I didn¡¯t understand, and rushing in without knowing what I was up against was foolish.


    I waited.


    The boy followed the golem, slipping between trees and bushes, his focus entirely on the sphere. The golem¡¯s slow, deliberate movements made it easy for him to keep pace without being noticed.


    As they moved further, I began to stalk behind them, my hands brushing against the stone axes tied to my belt¡ªthe ones I had pilfered from the lizard-like creatures I killed earlier. My grip tightened around the handles, but before I could move any further, another rustle came from the bushes.


    I froze immediately, heart pounding.


    Another figure emerged. A girl this time. Younger than the boy, but her expression was the same¡ªdetermined, intense. It seemed like she was stalking them, her eyes darting between the golem and the boy as if she were sizing up the situation, weighing her options.


    What the hell is this? I wondered. Another one?


    I stayed completely still, crouched in the bush as she passed by, her steps as light as the boy¡¯s. She followed at a distance, careful not to get too close, but clearly aiming to track the boy and the golem. My mind raced with possibilities.


    Is she thinking what I¡¯m thinking?


    I held my position, waiting, my breath shallow as I watched the strange scene unfold. I wanted to see if anyone else was out there, hiding, watching. But after a few tense moments, it became clear that there was no one else. No other movement from the bushes, no more hidden figures emerging from the undergrowth.


    It was just the boy, the girl, and the golem.


    Once I was sure it was clear, I began to follow again. My footsteps were light, deliberate, matching the rhythm of the golem¡¯s heavy strides. I kept my distance, making sure not to lose sight of the strange entourage ahead of me. My every step was calculated, every sound scrutinized.


    As I crept behind them, my eyes roamed in front where the boy struggled. His small figure, was dwarfed by the hulking golem, moving with a strange mixture of desperation and determination.


    Every few minutes, I watched him attempt the impossible¡ªgrappling onto the golem¡¯s rough, rocky exterior, trying to climb it. But each time, it was the same result. The sheer mass of the creature, the thunderous force of its steps, sent him crashing to the ground with brutal falls.


    I found it strange.


    The way the boy¡ªbruised, bleeding, and clearly in pain¡ªkept getting back up. His arms trembled with exhaustion, his legs wobbled, but he never stopped. Each time he was thrown to the earth, he rose again, eyes locked on the glowing red spheres embedded in the golem¡¯s chest.


    It was like he didn¡¯t care about the pain, as if something far greater than his injuries was driving him forward. The bruises, the bleeding¡ªthey didn¡¯t matter to him.


    I almost wondered if he was stupid.


    Yet, despite his relentless efforts, the boy was failing. And part of me wondered how long he could keep this up.


    Then there was the girl.


    Unlike the him, she moved with caution, trailing behind at a measured distance. Her eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, but more than once, they darted back, scanning the area behind her.


    Cautious, I thought. Too cautious, in fact.


    Stalking them both wasn¡¯t easy with her sharp instincts on constant alert. There were moments when I had to freeze mid-step, half-hidden in the undergrowth, barely breathing as her gaze swept over the very spot I was crouched in.


    Close calls¡ªfar too close for comfort. She nearly caught me several times, but I always managed to remain just out of her sight, half a step ahead of her watchful eyes.


    There was something about her that made me uneasy, more so than the boy. Maybe it was the way she held back, observing him almost like a predator sizing up its prey. Maybe it was her silence, the way she seemed to blend into the shadows without making a sound.


    But more than anything, it was the stone axe she carried.


    I recognized it immediately, the jagged edges of the stone and the rough handle. It was just like the ones I had taken from the lizard-like creatures earlier. She¡¯s fought them too, I realized. She knows how to survive.


    And that makes her dangerous.


    I watched her much more closely as I did the boy. Every movement, every subtle shift of her body, I cataloged in my mind. She was hunting, though I didn¡¯t know what her ultimate goal was. The golem? The boy? Something else entirely? I wasn¡¯t sure. But whatever it was, she was patient, perhaps more than me.


    No, I have to be even more patient.


    I can¡¯t afford a misstep, not with the way her eyes constantly roaming the surroundings, ever vigilant. There¡¯s definitely something about her.


    The golem, for its part, seemed oblivious to the two of them. Its massive form plowed through the forest without care, crushing trees underfoot and sending tremors through the ground with each slow, deliberate step.


    Strangely enough, its glowing red eyes remained fixed forward, unaware¡ªor unconcerned¡ªwith what transpired around it. But those red spheres, nestled in its chest, continued to glow faintly, pulsing with a strange energy.


    I kept my distance, carefully trailing the strange procession. My own stone axes, tied to my belt, bounced lightly against my hips as I moved, but I was hyper-aware of the weight of them.


    All of a sudden, the golem stopped. Its immense bulk, which had been moving with slow but deliberate force, now stood frozen in place. For a moment, the entire forest seemed to hold its breath. I crouched lower behind the bushes, watching intently, my body still, every muscle coiled like a spring.


    The boy noticed the halt as well. I could see him¡ªhis bruised and battered form¡ªtake this chance. With a renewed burst of determination, he threw himself at the golem¡¯s stone legs, grasping at the rough surface with bloodied hands. He began to climb, slowly but steadily, making his way up the towering mass. The golem remained oblivious, its glowing red eyes fixed straight ahead, unmoving.


    I shifted my attention to the girl. She hadn¡¯t moved much either, though her hesitation was apparent. She stayed crouched, her gaze flickering between the boy and the three red spheres embedded in the golem¡¯s chest.


    I could faintly see the calculation in her stance, the way her hand gripped the stone axe at her side. It was like she was weighing her options¡ªwaiting for the right moment, perhaps to make her own attempt at the spheres.


    As for me, I waited. There was no rush. My instincts told me something wasn¡¯t right, the hairs on my body perked right up as if reacting to something intangible. Then my stomach dropped.  And that¡¯s when I felt it¡ªan immediate tug at the edge of my awareness.


    Danger!


    The feeling was sharp, instant, like a cold breath down the back of my neck.


    I didn¡¯t think. I simply reacted.


    Without missing a beat, I quickly slipped behind the nearest tree, crouching low and pressing my back against the trunk, heart pounding in my chest. A split second later, the world erupted.


    A blinding flash of light burst from the golem¡¯s vicinty, followed by a deafening boom that rattled the air. It was as if a lightning storm had exploded right behind me. The flash was so bright, it burned into my retinas, even through the cover of my arm shielding my eyes.


    The ground shook beneath me with the force of the explosion, and the roar of it echoed through the forest, rattling the trees and sending flocks of birds screeching into the sky.


    What the hell happened?


    I didn¡¯t know, but I sure as hell understood one thing¡ªit was dangerous. Too dangerous to ignore.


    When the brightness finally faded, and the sound of the explosion simmered into an unsettling quiet, I cautiously peered around the trunk of the tree.


    Smoke and dust had filled the air, slowly drifting in the faint breeze. My ears were still ringing from the blast, but I could hear the low, guttural rumbling of the golem¡ªits once still form now moving.


    It let out a deep, resonating growl, like the sound of rocks grinding together deep within the earth. Slowly, deliberately, it lifted one massive arm into the air.


    I watched, transfixed, as the creature raised its arm higher, the muscles of stone in its arm shifting like tectonic plates beneath the surface. Then, with a terrifying force, it brought the arm crashing down into the area in front of it.


    The impact was enormous.


    The ground trembled violently beneath the weight of the golem¡¯s blow, sending ripples of more dirt and dust cascading into the air. Clouds of debris erupted where the fist struck the earth, obscuring whatever lay beneath it.


    It was clear now¡ªthe golem was no longer docile. Something had disturbed its calm, and it was now on the offensive.


    But why?


    I strained to see through the smoke, my eyes darting between the flurry of debris and the golem¡¯s colossal figure. The boy and the girl¡ªboth of them were gone. I scanned the area frantically, but neither their forms nor their movements were anywhere to be seen.


    Had they been caught in the blast?


    For a fleeting moment, I wondered if they had been vaporized by that explosion of light and sound, reduced to nothing but dust.


    But I didn¡¯t care. My focus was now on the golem¡ªand more importantly, what it was attacking.

 Chapter 10

    Chapter 10


    Through the haze of smoke and debris, my eyes strained to make out the chaos beyond. At first, it was difficult to discern anything clearly, but then the shapes became more defined.


    Black shadows¡ªhundreds of them.


    Many of them, were darting through the clouds of dust and ash, charging at the towering creature. As I peered closer, I realised that they were the very same creatures I had fled from earlier and were now swarming the golem in an all-out assault.


    My mind reeled in disbelief. How was this possible?


    These creatures were vicious, but they were small, primitive. I¡¯d killed two of them with little effort. And now, here they were, fearlessly attacking something as colossal and indomitable as a golem. It didn¡¯t add up. I thought back to that sudden lightning strike¡ªthe blinding light that had exploded in front of me moments before.


    That wasn¡¯t them. It couldn¡¯t have been. They couldn¡¯t possibly wield such devastating power. Unless...


    I peered even closer, squinting through the thick veil of smoke that still lingered in the air. There, in the distance, I saw it¡ªa figure standing apart from the rest, obscured but unmistakable.


    A similar creature, but different from the others.


    This one was cloaked, hooded, and stood surrounded by a phalanx of heavily armed guards. Iron shields and crude but sharp weapons gleamed in their hands as they formed a protective circle around the figure.


    The hooded monster held something high in its grasp¡ªsomething that radiated power, even from where I stood hidden. It was a talisman of sorts, crackling faintly with energy, and as I stared at it, a familiar sensation clawed at me.


    Danger!


    The warning was sharp and urgent, and I reacted instinctively, ducking back behind the tree, pressing myself flat against the bark just as¡ª


    BOOM.


    Another explosion rocked the forest, brighter and more violent than the last. I barely had time to shut my eyes before the flash seared through the air, casting everything in a harsh, white glow. My heart raced, pounding against my chest.


    That was it.


    The hooded creature was the source of the lightning, the origin of the devastating strike. More precisely, the talisman it held. That thing was channeling an unnatural force, and it was using it against the golem.


    Slowly, cautiously, I peered back around the tree, my breath shallow. The battle raged on, even more chaotic than before. Hundreds of the creatures, armed with nothing more than crude weapons and sheer desperation, were attempting to scale the golem.


    They clung to its rocky surface, clawing their way up its massive limbs, trying to reach the glowing red spheres embedded in its chest. I could see them striking at the golem¡¯s weak points, hacking at the joints, aiming for anything that might give way.


    But the golem was far from being defenseless.


    With a deep, resonating hum, the golem lashed out, its enormous stone fists slamming into the ground with a force that shook the earth. Each impact was like the strike of a boulder crashing down a mountainside¡ªunstoppable, merciless.


    Countless creatures were sent flying with every blow, their small bodies crushed under the sheer weight of the golem¡¯s power. The ground beneath its feet was rapidly turning into a wasteland of shattered earth and splintered trees.


    I watched as the golem thrashed, its movements slow but overwhelming. It smashed its fists into the swarm with terrifying strength, sending more and more clouds of dust and debris into the air.


    They were flattened where they stood, their bodies reduced to little more than broken shells beneath the golem¡¯s massive hands. And yet, despite the carnage, more of them came. For every one that fell, two more seemed to take its place, charging forward with a reckless abandon that bordered on suicidal.


    What was this? A doomsday mission?


    It was as if they knew this was their last stand, their final chance to strike before being obliterated entirely.


    But they didn¡¯t stop. The hooded creature with the talisman kept its gaze fixed on the golem, raising the artifact again, preparing for another strike. And the golem, for all its might, seemed to be in trouble.


    The creatures, in their relentless hive-mind, had begun to overwhelm it. Some had reached the red spheres, chipping away at the protective rock around them. The golem¡¯s movements were growing more erratic, as if it was reacting not out of strategy but pure instinct.


    A third blast of light erupted from the talisman, though this time I was prepared. I ducked down, covering my eyes from the intensity of it.


    The explosion sent a searing wave of heat through the air, and when I finally looked back, I saw that the golem had stumbled. One of its legs buckled under the force of the strike, its massive frame swaying precariously. The swarm surged forward, sensing an opportunity.


    The golem lashed out again, its massive arm sweeping across the ground like a massive scythe, and more of the creatures were crushed, their bodies broken under the force. But the one with the talisman was relentless, ordering its guards to join the swarm.


    I tightened my grip on the axes at my belt, heart racing. This wasn¡¯t just a spectacle anymore¡ªit was an opportunity.


    And I couldn¡¯t stay on the sidelines any longer.


    I decided to take another gamble¡ªand carefully rushed forward, making sure to stay out of sight.


    As I moved forwards, I leaped over the littered bodies¡ªcountless corpses and dismembered limbs strewn across the ground. But I didn¡¯t let it distract me. This was reality, brutal and unforgiving, and nothing mattered but my own survival. All I had were my instincts and the determination to see this through.


    I kept low, weaving between fallen logs and shattered rocks, but despite my best efforts, one of the swarming creatures caught me. Its senses appeared sharper than the others, detecting me before I could get any closer.


    It snarled, preparing to charge, but I was already prepared for this. My hand tightened around the wooden spear I carried, and without hesitation, I hurled it forward.


    The spear sailed through the air, deadly and precise, embedding itself deep into the creature¡¯s chest just as it began to rush me. It let out a strangled cry, stumbling backward before collapsing, lifeless.


    I didn¡¯t stop to catch my breath.


    The golem was still retaliating, even though it had fallen to its knees, thrashing violently against the onslaught of the swarm. I could tell¡ªit was on its last legs, the scaly creatures were winning, and I needed to act now.


    I darted forward, reaching down to grab the club the fallen monster had dropped, its crude but heavy weight feeling right in my hands. Just then, another lightning strike cracked through the air, this one slamming into the golem with a force that made the ground tremble beneath my feet.


    I dashed behind a tree, shielding myself from the blast of energy that followed.


    Just as I peered around the tree, I saw it¡ªthe golem¡¯s movements had slowed. Its once overwhelming fury had begun to squander, its strength drained by the relentless assault. The swarm were pressing in from all sides, scaling its massive form like ants devouring a fallen beast.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    This was my chance.


    Heart racing, I sprinted forward again, ducking from bush to collapsed trees, my body low to the ground as I moved closer to the golem¡¯s fallen form. Every step brought me nearer to the towering creature, now barely moving, its massive body slumped and battered.


    Around it, the corpses were piled high¡ªdiscarded, yet more of them continued to climb, eager to deliver the final blow. I knew I had to be faster than them.


    I could see my target now¡ªthe red orbs embedded in the golem¡¯s chest. The source of its power, glowing faintly, like dying embers in a once-raging fire. Many of the creatures were already hammering away at them.


    But they were still out of reach. My muscles tensed as I pushed myself harder, dodging past the creatures that were too focused on their attack to notice me. The ground shook again as the golem tried to lift one of its arms, but it was a weak attempt.


    Its strength was failing.


    I scrambled onto the golem¡¯s fallen leg, my hands gripping the rough stone as I scaled it, moving with haste. The surface was uneven, but I climbed with purpose, using every foothold, every crack.


    Halfway up, I caught up to one of the creatures climbing the golem. Without hesitation, I grabbed it by the leg, yanking it down with a snarl. It let out a surprised cry before plummeting to the ground below.


    I didn¡¯t stop to look. I was already moving, pulling myself higher until I reached the top of the golem''s leg.


    But I wasn¡¯t alone.


    Two more stood in my way. One had an arrow nocked, its beady eyes locked onto me, while the other came charging forward with a club raised high. I reacted fast, darting to the left, barely dodging the arrow that whizzed past my ear.


    The sudden shift in balance nearly sent me tumbling over the edge, but I caught myself just in time, my fingers gripping the rocky surface with desperation.


    Thankfully, the golem had stopped moving entirely now, its massive frame completely still. But I knew what that meant¡ªthe red orbs, the source of its power, were in danger of being taken.


    I turned back to face the creatures. The one with the club was already too close, its face twisted in fury. It swung wildly at me, but I ducked low, feeling the wind of its strike brush the top of my head.


    Before it could recover, I struck back, slamming my club into its legs, knocking it off balance. With a quick shove, I sent the creature stumbling off the ledge, its screams fading as it crashed below.


    The second monster was already nocking another arrow, but I wasn¡¯t going to give it the chance. My hand shot to my belt, grabbing one of the stone axes I¡¯d taken earlier. In one swift motion, I hurled it with all the strength I had.


    The axe spun through the air, embedding itself in the creature¡¯s skull with a sickening thud. The monster¡¯s eyes widened in shock before it collapsed, lifeless.


    I rushed forwards.


    The chest of the golem was still far ahead, and I needed to get there before it was too late. I broke into a sprint, leaping over the fallen, dodging the chaos around me. More monsters swarmed the golem, desperately trying to finish the deed.


    As I moved, arrows rained down from above, some barely missing me, while others found their mark. One arrow grazed my side, cutting through my skin, and another struck me squarely in the back, sending a shock of pain through my body.


    I stumbled forward, the pain almost unbearable, but I couldn¡¯t afford to stop. With gritted teeth, I forced myself to keep moving, finding cover behind a stone outcrop to catch my breath. Blood trickled down my skin, the wounds slowing me, but I couldn¡¯t let that be my end.


    With renewed determination, I pressed on, leaping and climbing higher, each step bringing me closer to the golem¡¯s chest. Another lunged at me from the side, swinging its weapon at my legs, but I was quicker. I lashed out with a kick, sending the creature tumbling down to its death.


    I kept moving. I was so close.


    After what felt like an eternity of climbing, I finally reached an outcrop of stone near the golem¡¯s chest. And there, in the chaos, I saw it¡ªone of the monsters holding a red orb up high, its hand raised in victory with a wicked grin stretched across its face.


    Behind it, others were furiously striking at the other two red orbs, still embedded in the golem¡¯s chest. I couldn¡¯t let this happen.


    I want one¡ªI NEED IT!


    With the creature still in it¡¯s triumph, I charged forward, gripping the stone axe tightly, my knuckles white from the force. I closed the distance in an instant, my legs propelling me forward faster than the creature could react.


    Just as it began to turn, its eyes widening in shock, I didn¡¯t stop. I pounced, slamming into its body with all my weight, sending us both crashing to the ground.


    It screeched, thrashing under me, its claws scrambling to grab at the orb in its hand. But I didn¡¯t give it the chance. With one hand, I pinned its arm holding the orb, while with the other, I raised the stone axe high above my head.


    Without a second thought, I brought the axe down on its forearm¡ªhard.


    The sound of bone splintering echoed in the air, followed by a spray of warm blood that splattered across my face. The creature howled in agony, its body jerking wildly beneath me, but I didn¡¯t stop.


    Again and again,


    I brought the axe down, splitting flesh and severing tendon until, finally, its arm was ripped clean off.


    The orb slipped from its loosened grip.


    Quickly, I snatched the red orb from its falling trajectory and shoved it into my pocket, heart pounding as I glanced up at the other monsters. They didn¡¯t seem to notice¡ªdidn¡¯t care¡ªabout their fallen comrade.


    Their attention was solely on the two remaining orbs still lodged in the golem¡¯s chest, their frantic hammering growing more desperate with each second. The injured creature beneath me whimpered, clutching its stump of an arm, but the others didn¡¯t even spare it a glance.


    I stood up, breathing heavily, my gaze locking onto another creature. This one was dangerously close to pulling out a second orb. Its clawed hand had already wrapped around the glowing sphere, its arm raised triumphantly as it prepared to claim the prize.


    I couldn¡¯t let that play out.


    Without hesitation, I hurled my axe, the stone weapon spinning through the air. It struck the monster square in the head, its body stiffened before collapsing, its hand loosening its grip on the orb just as it toppled to the ground.


    But before I could even move, another one leapt forward, eyes wide with desperation. It snatched the falling orb from mid-air, clutching it tightly to its chest as if it had just claimed salvation.


    No. Not on my watch.


    I sprinted toward it, closing the gap in moments. The creature barely had time to stand before I was on top of it, driving my boot into its skull with a forceful kick followed by a fierce stomp.


    Eventually, the creature¡¯s head cracked under the pressure, its body convulsing once, then going still. I didn¡¯t waste any time. I yanked the orb from its limp hands, plundering it for myself.


    Two! I had two of the three orbs.


    But the third was still up for grabs.


    I turned, my eyes darting toward the final orb. A vicious struggle had already broken out for it, clawing and biting at each other, I watched them; each desperate to claim the last remaining orb. Their fight was brutal, but I didn¡¯t have the luxury to wait and see who would win.


    Because now, I had become a target.


    The other approaching creatures, their eyes wild with greed, had seen what I had done. Their gazes were locked on me, on the orbs I had just stolen, their faces twisted with fury and desire. A chorus of snarls erupted from their ranks, and one by one, they sprinted in my direction.


    They were coming for me.


    My trusty instincts were flaring. I didn¡¯t have time to think, only to act. Without looking back, I turned and ran¡ªsprinting with every ounce of energy I had left. The sounds of their footsteps and growls followed closely behind, growing louder and closer with each passing second.


    Fuck! It''s like Deja-vu again.


    I moved quickly across the golem¡¯s stony corpse, darting from one jagged surface to another, the uneven ground beneath me making every step a potential disaster. Arrows whistled through the air, some close enough that I could feel the wind off their fletchings.


    I dodged them as best I could, but I wasn¡¯t fast enough to avoid all of them. I felt the sharp sting of a few grazing my arms and legs, the pain flaring hot but manageable. I couldn¡¯t let it slow me down.


    There wasn¡¯t time.


    I leapt across a narrow gap in the stone, landing hard on the other side, my breath coming in sharp gasps. Just as I was about to take cover behind a protruding chunk of the golem¡¯s arm, my instincts screamed at me.


    Danger!


    I glanced to my right, catching sight of the hooded creature in my peripheral vision. It was standing on the ground below, its talisman raised up high and aimed directly at me.


    Well isn¡¯t that great?!


    Up ahead, another monster blocked my path, its sword glinting as it charged toward me, eyes full of rage. And behind it? A whole swarm of them. They were climbing up the sides of the golem, their claws digging into the stone, scrambling to reach me. I was trapped, no doubt about it.


    Shit. Fucking shit!


    The thought pounded in my skull as I tried to assess my options, but none of them looked good.


    There was no escape. No time. Only one way out, and it was suicide¡ªbut what other choice do I have?


    I gritted my teeth, feeling the heat building in the surroundings. The hooded monster¡¯s talisman began to glow, brighter and brighter, as if it were charging some devastating attack.


    My instincts roared, and my body moved.


    Without hesitation, I charged straight at the creature in front of me. It saw the madness in my eyes, hesitation flickering for a split second as it raised its sword to strike.


    But it¡¯s hesitation was it¡¯s downfall.


    I ducked under the slash, the sword whistling above my head. Without slowing down, I slammed my entire body into the monster, my shoulder driving into its chest in the direction of the edge.


    The impact knocked the wind out of it, and we both went tumbling off the edge of the golem¡¯s body, falling into the abyss below.


    Just as we went over, a blinding flash of light exploded behind me, the lightning strike hitting the spot I had just vacated. The boom was deafening, my ears ringing from the force of it, and I felt the intense heat searing the skin on my back, radiating outward. But it hadn¡¯t hit me directly. I¡¯d narrowly escaped.


    We plummeted through the air, the creature¡¯s body thrashing in my grip as we hurtled toward the ground. I had its arms locked in mine, holding it tight, using it as a shield against the brutal fall that was fast approaching.


    The wind rushed past, pulling at my clothes, and I could barely keep my eyes open. The ground was coming up fast¡ªtoo fast¡ªand all I could do was pray. My chest tightened, my breath shallow, as I squeezed my eyes shut. My saving grace kicked and snarled, but I held it close, determined to let its body take the brunt of the impact.


    Shit! Shit! Shit¡ª


    SHIT!!!

 Chapter 11

    Chapter 11


    My head pounded like a war drum, the world spinning around me as I forced my eyes open. My vision swam, blurry shapes and indistinct colors melding together before slowly sharpening.


    The pain was immediate¡ªa sharp, throbbing ache in my skull¡ªand I couldn¡¯t feel my left arm. My body felt heavy, sluggish, as if weighted down by invisible chains.


    Groaning, I shifted and realized where I was: nestled precariously in the cradling embrace of a tree¡¯s branches.


    I blinked, trying to piece together what had happened. The fall. The monster. The lightning. I looked down, the ground below coming into focus. There it was¡ªthe creature¡¯s mangled body sprawled beneath the tree, blood pooling beneath its broken form. My shield. My savior.


    Somehow, I was alive, though by what miracle, I didn¡¯t know.


    Instinctively, I reached for my pockets. Relief flooded through me as my fingers brushed against the hard, smooth surfaces of the two red spheres. Still there. Still mine. That relief was short-lived, however. A wave of nausea rolled through me, and I felt the pull of unconsciousness like a tide trying to drag me under.


    I shook my head violently, biting down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste grounded me, but only for a moment.


    Growls. Snarls. The unmistakable pounding of heavy footsteps reverberated in the air. My head snapped up, panic overriding pain. They were coming. I couldn¡¯t see them yet, but they were fast approaching.


    My reprieve was nothing but temporary..


    Without hesitation, I broke free from the branches. The fall was short but jarring, as I landed hard on top of the scaly monster¡¯s already battered corpse. The impact sent a fresh wave of agony through my body, but at least the body cushioned me again. Sticky warmth seeped into my clothes, it¡¯s mangy blood coating me in a grotesque film.


    I didn¡¯t care. There wasn¡¯t time to care.


    I struggled to my feet, swaying as dizziness clawed at me. That¡¯s when I saw it¡ªmy left arm, limp and useless, hanging at my side. It was twisted unnaturally, the exposed bones jutting in ways they shouldn¡¯t. The sight made my stomach churn, but there was no time to dwell on it.


    The growls around me grew louder, accompanied by the crashing of underbrush. My heart hammered against my ribs, the adrenaline cutting through the fog in my mind. Survival was all that mattered.


    Clutching my side with my good hand, I hobbled forward, every step a battle against the pain. I shoved my way into the dense undergrowth of the forest, the foliage grabbing at my clothes like desperate hands. Each step was agony, each breath a struggle, but I didn¡¯t stop.


    I couldn¡¯t stop.


    The thundering footsteps were right behind me now, so close I swore I could feel their vibrations in the ground. My instincts screamed at me to move faster, to push harder, to survive no matter what. I didn¡¯t care anymore as I forced myself to run despite the injuries. My legs burned, my chest heaved, and the mangled arm hanging at my side swung uselessly with each staggering motion.


    I didn¡¯t look back. Looking back meant slowing down, and slowing down meant death. Forward was the only option, into the shadows of the forest, where maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªI could lose them.


    My breaths were ragged, shallow gasps clawed from my battered lungs, each one a knife slicing through my chest. Maybe it was internal injuries, maybe not. It didn¡¯t matter. Nothing mattered at this point.


    The world around me blurred, my vision narrowing as the crimson streak of blood trickling down my forehead painted everything in shades of red. My eyes stung, the warm liquid clinging to my lashes, but I didn¡¯t stop to wipe it away. I couldn¡¯t afford to. The snarls behind me, those guttural, hungry sounds, were all the motivation I needed.


    I was teetering on a mere thread, my body on the verge of total collapse.


    The forest was a dizzying swirl of greens, browns, and reds, my surroundings barely registering as I stumbled forward. Each step felt like my last, and deep down, I knew I couldn¡¯t keep this up. My end was close¡ªI could feel it in the way my legs trembled, in the dimming fire burning through my chest, this was it.


    Then, cutting through the haze, I heard it.


    ¡°Here! Come ¡¯ere!¡±


    The voice was distant, muffled by the pounding of my pulse and the growls that seemed to press against my back. I blinked, squinting into the distance, but all I saw was a distorted mess of shapes and shadows. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating, that my mind had finally cracked under the weight of exhaustion and fear.


    ¡°Over here, quickly!¡±


    This time it was clearer, sharper, like a rope tossed to a drowning man. Desperation clawed at my chest as I veered toward the sound, my legs screaming in protest with every uneven step. The snarls behind me grew louder, the heat of their breath almost tangible.


    I didn¡¯t have a choice.


    Pushing through a final line of trees, I stumbled into a small clearing. There, amidst the dirt and roots, was what looked like a mound of earth¡ªbut it was wrong. It was slightly ajar, like a trapdoor left half-open. Peering through the gap was a shadowed head, it¡¯s face obscured but their voice urgent.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    ¡°Make it fast!¡±


    Every instinct screamed at me not to trust this, to turn and fight instead of throwing myself into an unknown hole. But instincts don¡¯t matter when death is clawing at your heels. My legs moved on their own, driving me forward with a burst of adrenaline that I didn¡¯t know I had left.


    The figure fully opened the trapdoor just as I reached it, and without hesitation, I dove headfirst into the hole. The impact jarred my entire body as I crashed onto the muddy surface below, a fresh wave of pain rippling through me. My left arm screamed in protest, but I barely had time to process it before the shadowy figure above slammed the trapdoor firmly shut.


    Darkness enveloped the space, thick and oppressive. For a moment, the only sound was my ragged breathing, loud and uneven in the silence. I pressed a hand to my ribs, wincing at the sharp pain radiating from the touch, suppressing the noise.


    Then the rumbling started.


    A low, thunderous sound reverberated above, like the march of an endless horde. The ground trembled beneath me, dust falling from the ceiling of the cramped space. My heart pounded as I imagined the swarm overhead, their claws digging into the dirt, their snarls echoing in my mind.


    I shut my eyes, willing the noise to pass, praying, but fear rooted itself deep in my chest. I had been moments away from certain death¡ªcloser than ever before. I didn¡¯t know if this hole was salvation or just another trap, but for now, it was my only lifeline.


    Each second that passed felt like an eternity.


    Sweat trickled down my face, mingling with the blood that had already blurred my vision. I clenched my teeth, every muscle in my body taut as I silently begged¡ªprayed¡ªto whatever force might be listening.


    Just let them pass. Let them keep moving. Let this trapdoor stay shut.


    The rumbling overhead began to die down, fading into something softer, less threatening. But I knew better than to trust this fleeting silence. My breathing slowed, forced into shallow whispers of air that barely moved my chest. The figure who had opened the trapdoor remained still and quiet, as if they had vanished entirely. I mirrored the silence, every instinct warning me that any noise could be my undoing.


    The silence stretched on, but just as I thought the danger had passed, faint footsteps returned. The sound was softer now, like a cautious predator doubling back. My pulse spiked, and I pressed myself against the cold, muddy ground, willing my body to disappear. My fingers clenched, nails digging into the earth as I forced myself to stay utterly still.


    The seconds dragged on, every tiny sound amplifying my paranoia. It wasn¡¯t as loud as before, but that only made it worse. Were they searching? Circling? Could they smell me? The tension twisted my gut into knots, and I realized my breaths were coming out shaky and uneven. I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood, forcing myself to control the noise.


    Then, finally, true silence.


    I waited, counting the seconds in my head. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Still nothing. My aching chest heaved slightly as I allowed myself a shallow, tentative sigh of relief. The sweat on my skin cooled, sending shivers through my battered body.


    My eyes darted toward the figure who had pulled me into this hole. In the faint, residual light that seeped through the cracks, I could just barely make out their outline. They hadn¡¯t moved an inch since closing the trapdoor. Not a word, not a shift, not even a hint of breath that I could detect.


    My relief turned to unease.


    Shifting slightly, I tried to adjust my position. My ribs ached with every motion, and my left arm was still useless, hanging limply at my side like dead weight. As I moved, my knee brushed against something solid¡ªsomething that wasn¡¯t the ground. I froze, my senses sharpening despite the haze of exhaustion clouding my mind.


    Slowly, carefully, I reached out, my fingers brushing against the object. It was firm, unyielding, and strangely smooth in some places. My heart skipped a beat as I realized it wasn¡¯t just an object. It was a leg.


    A person.


    I recoiled slightly, my breath catching in my throat. The leg didn¡¯t move. No flinch, no sign of life. I hesitated, my hand hovering over it as I tried to make sense of this. Was someone else here? Or¡­was this a corpse?


    ¡°Hello,¡± I whispered, my voice shaky and hoarse.


    No response.


    Instead, the figure who had saved me broke their silence, issuing a sharp, hushed, ¡°Shh!¡±


    I froze again, my lips clamping shut. My heart thudded painfully against my chest as I glanced back toward the figure. They were still as a shadow, unmoving, unreadable. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled.


    I turned my attention back to the leg beside me. Carefully, cautiously, I felt along its length, searching for any sign of warmth, movement, life. But there was nothing. No twitch, no tremble¡ªjust unresponsive, unmoving flesh.


    Is it really a dead person?


    The realization sent a chill through me. My fingers instinctively brushed against my pocket, seeking the small, narrow object I had stashed earlier. The crossbow bolt. My only weapon. My only chance, if this situation turned out to be something far worse than I¡¯d imagined.


    My hand closed around the bolt, gripping it tightly but keeping it hidden. My gaze flickered back to the figure. Their silhouette remained motionless, but I couldn¡¯t shake the growing unease that coiled in my chest.


    The silence dragged on, stretching far beyond what felt comfortable. My breaths, though quiet, felt deafening in the suffocating darkness. The figure hadn¡¯t moved since shushing me earlier, as if time itself held no weight for him. I sat there, the bolt clenched tightly in my hand, my body aching and nerves fraying with each second that ticked by.


    Just as I started to consider speaking, I heard a creak. A faint sound, as if wood groaned under strain. My head tilted toward it instinctively. The figure was descending¡ªlikely on some kind of unseen ladder. The sound was deliberate, careful. The voice that followed, barely above a whisper, was deep, unsettlingly calm and undoubtedly male.


    ¡°They should have left by now,¡± he said, his words slow and deliberate.


    The way he spoke made my skin crawl¡ªnot from menace, but because something about his pronunciation was¡­off. The cadence was strange, like someone who hadn¡¯t spoken aloud in years or learned the language from an incomplete guide. It was uncanny enough to put me further on edge.


    As he descended further, his movements brought him closer to me. He stopped a few feet away, just outside of my reach. I still couldn¡¯t make out his face, his features obscured entirely by the lack of light.


    ¡°We must stay quiet,¡± he added, almost as if repeating the mantra for himself rather than for me.


    I swallowed, debating whether to speak or not. My voice felt stuck in my throat, but curiosity and unease eventually pushed me forward.


    ¡°Who¡­who are you?¡± I asked, trying to keep my tone steady despite the tremble creeping in.


    He didn¡¯t respond immediately. The silence stretched again, but this time, I heard the faintest sound of his breathing¡ªcalm, measured. Finally, he answered.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know my real name,¡± he admitted, his tone neutral, almost detached.


    ¡°But¡­others call me Nidus.¡±


    I blinked, confused. ¡®Others¡¯? I echoed internally.


    He didn¡¯t elaborate. The name itself sounded strange, like it carried some hidden weight. My grip tightened on the bolt as my thoughts wandered. Who were these ¡°others¡±? Was he part of a group? Was this space part of their lair?


    My eyes flicked instinctively to the body beside me. I couldn¡¯t see it, but the sensation of its unmoving presence was heavy in the cramped space. I wet my lips, hesitating, before finally asking.


    ¡°Who¡¯s¡­who¡¯s this? The body beside me. Is it alive?¡±


    Nidus shifted slightly, his silhouette tilting forward as if observing me¡ªor perhaps the body. ¡°I don¡¯t know her name,¡± he said finally. ¡°Found her earlier. Kobolds were¡­hacking at her. I pulled her out before they could finish.¡±


    His plain words made my stomach turn. Hacking at her? My fingers twitched against the bolt as I glanced again toward the lifeless-feeling leg beside me.


    ¡°And she¡¯s alive?¡± I pressed, my voice wavering.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he replied, his tone unchanging. ¡°She hasn¡¯t moved since I dragged her here.¡±


    The information hit me in pieces, fragmented but enough to paint a grim picture. A girl. Alive¡ªor was. Likely unconscious. And the kobolds¡ªthe scaly creatures that had been chasing me¡ªhad been trying to kill her.


    ¡°Kobolds,¡± I murmured, testing the word.


    ¡°Yup,¡± he confirmed simply, though the way he pronounced it added a strange weight.


    I shook my head, trying to clear it. The bolt felt heavier in my hand now, though I didn¡¯t loosen my grip. My mind raced as I pieced things together. A girl. Kobolds. The leg beside me. The fight near the golem.


    Then it hit me.


    I thought back to earlier, before everything had gone to hell. The figures I¡¯d been stalking before the golem erupted into chaos. There¡¯d been two¡ªa boy and a girl. Was this girl one of them? If so, what happened to the boy?


    I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to steady. ¡°Did you¡­did you see anyone else?¡± I asked, glancing back toward Nidus. ¡°Another person? A boy?¡±


    His response came without hesitation. ¡°Nope.¡±


    The simple word settled like a stone in my chest. The boy wasn¡¯t here. Either he hadn¡¯t been taken¡­or he hadn¡¯t survived.


    Perhaps he really had been vaporised by that blast¡­


    I stared into the darkness, my thoughts spiraling. Thinking back to the hooded kobold holding the strange talisman, I also wondered if I would¡¯ve been reduced to mere ash had I been a step too late; perhaps it was due to pure luck that I managed to survive all of that.


    Nonetheless, this so called ¡®Nidus¡¯¡ªthis strange, unsettling figure¡ªwas another mystery entirely.


    What the hell is his deal?


    I tightened my grip on the bolt, my knuckles brushing the fabric of my pocket where the orbs rested. I¡¯d trust no one here¡ªnot the half-dead girl, and certainly not him.


    I looked in front and asked the sole question plaguing my mind,


    ¡°Why did you help me?¡±.

 Chapter 12

    Chapter 12


    I swallowed hard, my voice hesitant but firm. ¡°Why did you help me?¡±


    The silence that followed was thick, stretching too long for comfort. I could hear my own breathing, shallow and uneven, and the faint, distant sounds of the forest above, muffled but still there. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured, as if each word were carefully chosen.


    ¡°Seemed like the right thing to do,¡± he said.


    I frowned, my jaw tightening. His answer was too simple, too¡­convenient. In this world, kindness wasn¡¯t just fool¡¯s gold¡ªit was dangerous. No one helped without a reason.


    ¡°You don¡¯t strike me as the charitable type,¡± I said, keeping my tone low but pointed.


    He shifted slightly, a gesture I couldn¡¯t read. ¡°Maybe I¡¯m not,¡± he admitted. ¡°But¡­maybe I saw something worth saving.¡±


    ¡°Something worth saving?¡± I echoed, disbelief creeping into my voice. ¡°You don¡¯t even know me. As a matter of fact I don¡¯t even know me.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he chuckled. ¡°But I know desperation when I see it. And¡­¡± He hesitated, the pause lingering like a crack in his otherwise composed demeanor. ¡°It¡¯s rare to see someone fight so hard just to survive.¡±


    The words should¡¯ve felt like a compliment, but they didn¡¯t. They felt like a hook, baited and dangling just out of reach.


    ¡°Right,¡± I said slowly, skepticism dripping from my tone. ¡°And what do you want in return? As you can see, I¡¯m not exactly at the best shape right now.¡±


    He chuckled again, the sound low and humorless. ¡°Suspicious, aren¡¯t you? Can¡¯t say I blame you. Nothing¡¯s free, is it?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said flatly.


    He shifted, the faint sound of the wind outside was nothing but palpable in the tense darkness. ¡°You think I have some ulterior motive?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you?¡± I questioned, leaning slightly forward despite the ache in my body.


    Another pause, longer this time. ¡°Maybe I just didn¡¯t want to watch someone die,¡± he said finally, his tone quieter, almost contemplative.


    ¡°Or maybe¡­I saw a chance to make a new friend in a world where that seems unlikely. After all, everything changed after being transported here from that cell block.¡±


    Cell block? Don¡¯t tell me he too¡­


    He exhaled, a sound that could have been a sigh or just the weight of his next words. ¡°Survivors,¡± he added. ¡°They¡¯re¡­ scarce. Haven¡¯t seen many since I was brought here. Not many make it.¡±


    His tone was evasive, as though he was skirting something deeper, but there was enough sincerity there to make me hesitate. My grip on the bolt slackened just slightly.


    ¡°You were brought here from a cell block too?¡± I pressed.


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± he said, almost absently, as if testing the words. ¡°A long time ago. Longer than I can measure.¡±


    My stomach twisted at the mention of the cell block. The memory it brought back was one I wasn¡¯t willing to remember. It hit me like a wave¡ªcold walls, the stink of sweat and blood, the clamor of chains, the screams all of it felt surreal. The cell block was where it all began, before I stepped into this hellscape.


    And now Nidus was claiming the same origin. I¡¯m not sure whether to believe it or not.


    ¡°Exactly how long ago?¡± I asked, trying to piece together his timeline.


    He paused again, and the silence stretched long enough to make me wonder if he¡¯d answer at all. ¡°Couldn¡¯t say,¡± he admitted finally. ¡°Days blend into weeks. Weeks into¡­ something else. Time¡¯s slippery here.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t much of an answer, and it didn¡¯t sit well with me. ¡°And the others? You said you¡¯ve seen survivors. How many? Where are they?¡±


    Nidus shifted again, his voice dropping lower. ¡°Not many,¡± he said, almost reluctantly. ¡°Most¡­ don¡¯t last long. Some wander. Some¡­ get caught.¡±


    The way he said ¡°caught¡± made my skin crawl.


    There were many questions clawing at the edges of my mind, begging to be asked. Where exactly was this place? Were we still in the same world or somewhere else entirely? Who are the others? Is he acting alone?


    But the words wouldn¡¯t come. The constant stream of blood trickling down my forehead was too distracting, and the stabbing, unrelenting pain in my side made it hard to think straight.


    I groaned, the sound low and guttural as I winced and leaned slightly to the side. My hand instinctively pressed against my ribs, as if that might dull the ache. It didn¡¯t.


    Nidus noticed, his shadowed figure shifting slightly in the dim light. ¡°You¡¯re not doing yourself any favors sitting there,¡± he said, his voice low but firm.


    ¡°Come on. There¡¯s a tunnel this way.¡±


    I looked at him skeptically as he moved toward the far side of the room. His movements were deliberate but unhurried, and his confidence in the near-total darkness made me uneasy.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    It wasn¡¯t until he gestured toward a dark opening in the wall that I saw what he was referring to¡ªan opening I hadn¡¯t noticed before, its mouth barely visible in the shadows.


    ¡°It leads to one of my shelters,¡± he explained. ¡°Built it myself. With help, of course.¡±


    ¡°Help?¡± I muttered, my suspicion flaring again, but Nidus didn¡¯t elaborate. Instead, he crouched down and grabbed the unconscious girl by her shoulders. The sound of her body dragging across the dirt filled the silence, and I had to suppress a shudder.


    ¡°Got medical supplies there,¡± he added as he began to pull the girl toward the tunnel. ¡°And you look like you¡¯re gonna need them.¡±


    I hesitated. The thought of following him into that pitch-black tunnel sent my nerves spiraling. In truth, I didn¡¯t trust him at all. But the pulsing pain in my side was getting worse, and my vision was beginning to blur at the edges.


    If I stayed here, I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d last much longer.


    Nidus stopped just at the edge of the tunnel, his dark figure almost blending into the shadows. He turned slightly, his head tilting as though he could sense my hesitation.


    ¡°Your choice,¡± he said simply. ¡°But if you¡¯re smart, you¡¯ll follow.¡±


    I glanced down at the bolt still clutched tightly in my hand. My fingers flexed around it as I weighed my options. The idea of walking blindly into the unknown with someone suspicious made my stomach churn, but the promise of medical supplies¡­ that was harder to ignore.


    With a reluctant groan, I pushed myself to follow. Every movement sent sharp pangs through my body, and I had to bite back another wince as I staggered toward the tunnel.


    ¡°Quietly,¡± Nidus murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he disappeared into the darkness.


    I followed, my movement unsteady but deliberate as I trailed behind him. The tunnel was narrow, the walls rough and damp against my shoulders. My injuries dragged me down as the sound of Nidus dragging the girl echoed softly ahead.


    The dragging sound soon came to an abrupt stop, and I staggered forward, lagging just behind. My body protested every step, my injuries reminding me that I shouldn¡¯t even be walking.


    When I finally caught up, Nidus had already struck a torch.


    The flame flared to life, bathing the small space in a warm orange glow. The room was unexpectedly structured, with wooden supports holding up the walls and ceiling, preventing the earth from caving in. It wasn¡¯t luxurious¡ªfar from it¡ªbut it was functional.


    A rough table and a few mismatched chairs occupied one corner. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with jars whose contents were an enigma. Nearby, several large clay pots stood sealed, their purpose unclear. A pile of rudimentary weapons sat haphazardly against the wall, and I immediately recognized some of them as kobold-made, their crude craftsmanship giving them away.


    But it wasn¡¯t the room or the weapons that grabbed my attention¡ªit was Nidus himself.


    Standing there in the flickering light, his features were finally clear. He was an older man, far older than me, with medium-length brown hair tangled and matted in places. His beard, equally unkempt, stretched down to his collar bone, streaked with a feint grey.


    A deep scar ran across his cheek, jagged and pale against his weathered skin. His sharp blue eyes, though tired, gleamed with an unsettling intensity. His clothes were a patchwork of tattered fabric and fur, stitched together for warmth rather than appearance.


    He looked like a disheveled man who had lived through too many battles and came out worse for wear.


    Nidus plopped the unconscious girl onto the makeshift bed with surprising gentleness, muttering something under his breath. I hadn¡¯t had a clear look at her earlier, but now there was no mistaking it¡ªshe was the same girl I had been watching before the chaos with the golem.


    Her clothes were torn, her body littered with gashes, blood pooling beneath her. She looked as though she¡¯d barely survived the daunting encounter.


    And then there was me.


    Nidus turned, his sharp eyes appraising me. He let out a low whistle. ¡°How are you even standing?¡± he asked, his voice carrying a mix of disbelief and amusement.


    ¡°You¡¯re in worse shape than her.¡±


    I leaned against the wall, my legs threatening to give out. My side felt like it was on fire, and the blood dripping from my forehead had started to crust, though fresh trails still trickled down into my eyes. My left arm hung limp at my side, useless.


    Nidus shook his head. ¡°You got one hell of a willpower. Or maybe¡­¡± His eyes narrowed slightly. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re one of those special types. You know, like the bodies they talk about in the legends.¡±


    I let out a dry, humorless laugh, though it hurt to do so. ¡°Special? No. Just lucky.¡± I forced a weak grin. ¡°And stubborn.¡±


    He grunted, apparently satisfied with my answer, and strode over to the shelves. He rummaged through the jars, muttering to himself as he worked. Eventually, he grabbed two and tossed one toward me. My reflexes weren¡¯t exactly sharp in my condition, so I barely managed to catch it without fumbling.


    ¡°Medicine,¡± he said simply, opening the jar in his hand. A sharp, herbal scent wafted out, stinging my nose.


    He moved back to the girl and began applying the thick, paste-like substance to her wounds. His movements were deliberate, practiced. The cuts on her body seemed to stop bleeding almost instantly, the balm sealing them as if by magic.


    I eyed the jar in my hand skeptically.


    Nidus glanced at me and smirked. ¡°What, you think I¡¯d drag your sorry ass here just to poison you? Use it. Trust me or don¡¯t, but you¡¯re a dead man at this point if you don¡¯t do something.¡±


    I hesitated, my grip tightening around the jar. ¡°Dead, huh?¡±


    He chuckled softly. ¡°Oh, yeah. I¡¯d rather not deal with your corpse stinking up the place, if I¡¯m honest.¡±


    His tone was casual, but there was a flicker of something else in his voice¡ªgenuine concern? Or maybe he just didn¡¯t want the hassle. Either way, I had little choice. My body couldn¡¯t take much more abuse, and as much as I distrusted him, I wasn¡¯t ready to die here.


    Reluctantly, I opened the jar. The strong herbal scent hit me again, almost nauseating, but I scooped some of the balm onto my fingers. The texture was thick and gritty, and it tingled as I smeared it onto the worst of my wounds.


    It stung at first, a sharp, biting pain, but then a cooling sensation followed. The relief was immediate, though far from complete.


    ¡°See?¡± Nidus said, not looking up from his work on the girl. ¡°Not so bad, right?¡±


    I didn¡¯t answer, too focused on the faint numbness spreading through my injuries. For the first time in what felt like hours, the pain dulled to something bearable.


    ¡°Now sit tight,¡± he said, glancing at me briefly. ¡°We¡¯ve got a long night ahead.¡±


    Nidus worked quickly and efficiently, pulling out a small wooden box from the corner of the room. It creaked as he opened it, revealing a collection of needles and spools of thick yarn. I realized with a twinge of unease that this was likely the same crude thread he used to patch together his tattered clothing.


    He threaded a needle with practiced hands, then began stitching up the deep gashes on the girl¡¯s body.


    The sight was almost mesmerizing. His hands moved with the confidence of someone who had done this countless times before. Each stitch was tight, precise, and fast. He cleaned the wounds as he worked, using some kind of pungent liquid from a jar on the shelf. Before long, the girl¡¯s face looked less pale, and the bleeding had stopped entirely.


    Meanwhile, I dragged myself over to the nearest chair, my legs barely supporting me. Every step sent a wave of fire through my body, but I forced myself to sit, letting out a shaky breath. As I leaned back, something caught Nidus¡¯s attention.


    His sharp blue eyes focused on me, narrowing slightly. ¡°You¡¯ve got an arrow in your back,¡± he said flatly, as if pointing out the weather.


    For a moment, I was confused. Then it hit me¡ªthe dull, throbbing pain I¡¯d ignored in my lower back during all the chaos. I had forgotten entirely about it. My mind flashed back to the golem¡¯s corpse, the chaos, the clash. That was when I¡¯d been shot.


    I laughed it off, though my voice was strained. ¡°I guess I do,¡± I said, wiping at the blood still caking my face. The movement felt heavy, sluggish, my body teetering on the edge of collapse.


    Nidus sighed, shaking his head. ¡°Stubborn, was it? You¡¯re just a fool. That thing¡¯s buried deep. You¡¯re in much worse shape than you think.¡± He crouched down in front of me, his voice lowering.


    ¡°Let me help. You¡¯ll bleed out otherwise, no matter how tenacious you are.¡±


    I hesitated. But the room spun slightly as I sat there. My body was indeed screaming at me to accept the help, I couldn¡¯t pretend any longer.


    Finally, I nodded. ¡°Fine,¡± I said, my voice resolute. ¡°But if this kills me¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh it probably will,¡± he interrupted. ¡°Now sit forward.¡±


    I shifted reluctantly, leaning forward with a wince. Nidus moved behind me, his presence looming. He studied the wound for a moment before speaking again. ¡°This is going to hurt,¡± he warned.


    ¡°Count to three for me, yeah?¡±


    I tensed, clutching the edge of the table in front of me. ¡°Alright¡­ three¡­ two¡ª¡±


    Before I could even finish, he yanked the arrow out in one smooth motion.


    The pain was immediate and blinding, tearing through me like a wildfire. I slammed my hand onto the table, a hoarse yell escaping before I could choke it back. My vision blurred, dark spots dancing across my eyes.


    ¡°Done,¡± Nidus said quickly, though his voice sounded far away.


    I was barely aware of him working behind me, as he closed the wound with his needle and thread. The pain flared again with every movement, each stitch feeling like a knife twisting in my flesh. My muscles were taut, trembling with the effort to stay conscious. Then I felt him clean the wound before applying the balm.


    But Nidus wasn¡¯t finished.


    He moved to the front of me, his gaze landing on my left arm. My stomach dropped when I followed his eyes. The entirety of it was twisted unnaturally and bone was exposed at the elbow, jagged and raw.


    ¡°That¡¯s bad,¡± he muttered, more to himself than to me. ¡°Needs to be set.¡±


    I didn¡¯t even have time to argue before he grabbed my wrist.


    ¡°Wait¡ª¡± I started, panic rising in my chest.


    ¡°You know the drill, count down from three,¡± he said with a smile, his grip already tightening.


    ¡°Wait!¡± I protested, trying to pull away, but he held firm.


    With one sharp, practiced motion, he wrenched my arm back into place.


    The world exploded into pain.


    It was unlike anything I¡¯d ever felt, a shock that burned through my entire body. My vision went white, my head snapping back as I gasped. The edges of the room blurred suddenly, then went dark altogether.


    I didn¡¯t even feel myself hit the ground.

 Chapter 13

    Chapter 13


    The darkness of unconsciousness faded, replaced by a dreamscape I couldn¡¯t place. The world around me was formless, shrouded in a haze of shifting greys and muted light. At the center of it all stood a figure, blurred and indistinct, as if someone had smeared their image with trembling hands.


    I couldn¡¯t make out their face or features, yet I felt an undeniable pull toward them¡ªa familiarity so strong it almost hurt. My chest tightened, and before I even realized it, I was speaking, the words slipping from my mouth without thought.


    ¡°Where is my mother?¡±


    The question caught me off guard, like it had come from someone else entirely. I froze, confused. Mother? The word felt alien on my tongue, distant and out of reach, yet it was undeniably mine. I could feel it, this strange, empty yearning for something I couldn¡¯t name.


    But as soon as the question hung in the air, another, darker thought clawed its way into my mind.


    Did I even have parents?


    My earliest memories were a black void, punctuated only by my waking in that damp, suffocating cave. I had never thought to question my origins before, never needed to. Yet here I was, asking after a mother I wasn¡¯t even sure existed.


    Before I could unravel the mess of thoughts spiraling in my head, the figure moved¡ªor, at least, I thought it did. Its edges wavered and flickered like a mirage, and then it spoke.


    The sound that came out made me flinch.


    It wasn¡¯t a voice. Not really. It was a fragmented, unnatural sound, like someone had layered a deep, resonant male voice with a distorted, alien hum. The tones didn¡¯t belong together, warping and colliding in ways that made my head ache.


    The words were no better. They tumbled out in a garbled mess, fragments of sentences stitched together into something almost incomprehensible.


    ¡°¡­far away¡­ place¡­ where¡­ you¡­ was¡­¡±


    It didn¡¯t make sense. Not a single coherent sentence, and yet¡­ it did. Somehow, deep in the marrow of my being, I understood.


    A faraway location. That was what it had said. Somewhere distant and unreachable. That was where I would find the answers¡ªor so it seemed to imply.


    But why did I believe it? Why did I know it to be true?


    The figure remained still, its blurred outline now trembling faintly. I opened my mouth to press it for more, but the world around me began to distort, dissolving into streaks of dark and light.


    ¡°No, wait!¡± I shouted, reaching for the figure, but my voice echoed uselessly in the void.


    The dream shattered like glass, and I fell.


    A sharp throb in my skull dragged me back to the waking world, and I groaned, clutching my head with one shaky hand. The pounding sensation behind my temples was relentless, like someone was hammering from the inside.


    Sweat slicked my face and dripped down my neck, the damp fabric of my clothes sticking to my skin. My breaths came shallow and uneven, each one pulling me further out of the haze.


    I blinked a few times, squinting at my surroundings through the dim light of the torch still burning on the wall. The room was as I remembered it¡ªwooden supports, cluttered shelves, jars, and a stack of mismatched weapons. My eyes fell on myself next, and I was astounded.


    The wounds I remembered¡ªthe torn flesh, the deep gashes that felt like they¡¯d split me apart¡ªwere now stitched up nicely. Every cut was sealed with neat, precise lines of thread. My body was far from perfect, bruises and dried blood still painting my skin, but I wasn¡¯t bleeding out anymore.


    The pain was still there, dull and insistent, but manageable. I flexed my fingers, watching my hand tremble before my gaze shifted to my left arm. It wasn¡¯t twisted anymore.


    Bandages were wrapped tightly around the limb, securing it in place. A long, straight stick was bound alongside it, forming a crude splint. I moved it slightly, wincing at the soreness but marveling at how functional it felt.


    Nidus had done this. Somehow, that unkempt stranger had patched me up, even while I¡¯d been out cold.


    I exhaled slowly, the tension in my chest easing. That was when I noticed it¡ªa steady, rhythmic sound. Breathing.


    Turning my head, I spotted the girl lying on the makeshift bed. Her chest rose and fell in a slow, peaceful rhythm, and for a moment, I thought she might have woken. But her eyes remained closed, her expression slack with exhaustion.


    She looked¡­ better. Cleaner. The blood that had coated her body earlier was gone, her skin pale but no longer deathly. The deep wounds on her arms and legs were bandaged as carefully as my own, and her face was no longer twisted in agony.


    I studied her for a moment longer, noting the faint colour returning to her cheeks. She seemed to be breathing easily, almost as if she were sleeping off a fever rather than surviving the brink of death.


    A voice cut through the haze of my thoughts, jolting me back to reality.


    ¡°Had a nightmare, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    I whipped my head toward the source, wincing as my neck protested. Nidus was there, leaning casually against the tunnel¡¯s entrance with his arms crossed, his sharp blue eyes fixed on me. The torchlight cast jagged shadows across his scarred face, making it impossible to read his expression fully.


    Before I could respond, he spoke again. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t move around like that. Unless you¡¯re hoping to rip open those wounds I spent half the night patching up.¡± He smirked, but there was something sharper lurking beneath the surface. ¡°Took a long time closing them up, you know. Don¡¯t make me regret the effort.¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    I gritted my teeth and shifted uncomfortably in the chair, my fingers clenching on the armrests. This man was an enigma¡ªhalf-savior, half-mystery¡ªand I still couldn¡¯t tell whether he was the kind to drive a blade into my back once I was healthy enough to stand. But, for all the questions churning in my head, I forced myself to swallow my pride.


    ¡°¡­Thanks,¡± I muttered, barely audible.


    Nidus tilted his head, clearly amused by my awkward gratitude. ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°I said thank you,¡± I repeated, louder this time, though the words felt heavy and unfamiliar on my tongue. ¡°For saving my life. And hers too.¡± My gaze flicked toward the girl, who was still breathing steadily on the makeshift bed.


    He shrugged, the gesture almost too nonchalant. ¡°Don¡¯t mention it. Seriously. Don¡¯t.¡±


    Despite his casual tone, I couldn¡¯t shake the lingering suspicion that gnawed at me. People didn¡¯t just do things like this out of the goodness of their hearts. I didn¡¯t know how to repay him, but something about his easy mannerisms and vague explanations felt¡­ wrong.


    And then it hit me like a gut punch.


    The bolt. The red spheres.


    I sat up straighter, patting my pockets with a growing sense of dread. My stomach churned as my hands came up empty. They were gone.


    Nidus caught the shift in my expression immediately, his posture changing subtly. His arms uncrossed, and he straightened up from the tunnel wall, his gaze narrowing as if he were studying me.


    ¡°Looking for your stuff?¡± he asked in a voice that sounded far too casual to be innocent.


    My body tensed, my instincts screaming at me to be on guard. My voice was sharp, demanding. ¡°Where are they?¡±


    Nidus didn¡¯t answer immediately. His eyes flicked to my hands, noting the tension in my posture, before his lips curled into something that might have been a smirk. Or maybe it was a warning.


    ¡°Where are they?¡± I repeated, louder this time, my anger bubbling to the surface. My heart was racing now, my chest tight with the realization that I might¡¯ve been duped. Had this been his plan all along? To lull me into trust, patch me up, then take what I¡¯d risked everything to get?


    I almost laughed at my own stupidity. Of course. Of course, this was the real reason he¡¯d gone through the trouble.


    But Nidus raised both hands slowly, palms out, as if to diffuse the situation. ¡°Relax,¡± he said, his tone calm but firm. ¡°Take a deep breath before you do something stupid.¡±


    My eyes narrowed, and I didn¡¯t move an inch.


    With deliberate slowness, Nidus reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two familiar red spheres, their surfaces gleaming faintly in the dim torchlight. In his other hand, he held the crossbow bolt I¡¯d hidden in my pocket earlier.


    ¡°I was just curious,¡± he explained, holding the objects out in front of him like a peace offering. ¡°Wanted to examine these for a bit. And the bolt? Well, let¡¯s just say it¡¯s not every day you find someone with a weapon in their pocket and no weapon to fire it from. Safety reasons, you understand.¡±


    ¡°Give them back,¡± I snapped, rising from my chair despite the protests from my aching body.


    He arched a brow, amused. ¡°You¡¯re in no shape to start demanding things. But fine.¡±


    Surprisingly, Nidus stepped forward and extended the items toward me. I snatched them from his hands without hesitation, shoving the spheres back into my pocket and gripping the bolt tightly against him.


    ¡°There,¡± he said, taking a step back and folding his arms again. ¡°Happy now?¡±


    I glared at him, but I didn¡¯t respond. My pulse was still hammering in my ears, the adrenaline making it hard to think straight. Nidus might¡¯ve handed the items back without a fight, but the unease in my chest didn¡¯t fade.


    Not one bit.


    The fact that he had returned them without resistance caught me off guard, and for a brief moment, I wondered if I had misjudged him. But no¡ªsomething still didn¡¯t sit right.


    What if he had done something to them?


    He¡¯d had enough time while I was unconscious, after all. And from the way he acted, I knew he wasn¡¯t just some aimless survivor. He¡¯d been here a long time, long enough to know things I didn¡¯t. I glanced at him suspiciously and asked,


    ¡°You know what they are, don¡¯t you?¡±


    He didn¡¯t respond.


    Instead, his sharp blue eyes locked onto mine, studying me with unnerving precision. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, as if he were weighing a decision he wasn¡¯t ready to make.


    ¡°Answer me,¡± I said, my voice low but firm. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you take them? Or destroy them? That¡¯s what the warden wanted us to do, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    The question hung in the air like a blade, but Nidus didn¡¯t flinch. He kept his gaze steady, his face unreadable. Then, with an infuriating calmness, he raised his hands slightly, a gesture of peace, before turning away.


    ¡°Hey!¡± I snapped, anger rising as he walked over to the chair opposite mine, sitting down with deliberate ease. His nonchalance only made my suspicions worse, and the knot of unease in my stomach tightened.


    My grip on the bolt in my hand tightened. Pointing it directly at him, I demanded, ¡°Answer me!¡±


    Nidus raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable but still maddeningly calm. ¡°Put that down,¡± he said evenly, his voice low and almost too composed.


    I didn¡¯t move. My heart raced, adrenaline surging through my veins. ¡°Not until you tell me everything!¡±


    His eyes hardened slightly, and the tension in the air grew unbearable. ¡°Put it down,¡± he repeated slowly, his voice carrying an edge of authority that sent a chill down my spine.


    But I refused. I stood firm, glaring at him with all the defiance I could muster. ¡°No! I¡¯m not doing anything until you tell me who you really are!¡±


    For a moment, silence. And then, he sighed heavily, his head dipping slightly before he looked up at me again. When he spoke, it was a single word¡ªone that sent a bolt of ice through my chest.


    ¡°Pawn.¡±


    The world tilted. My breath hitched, and every muscle in my body froze as if the word had struck some invisible chord deep inside me. It wasn¡¯t just a word¡ªit was a command. A trigger.


    ¡°Sit,¡± Nidus said, his tone quiet but unyielding.


    Before I could even process what was happening, my legs moved on their own. I stumbled backward and sank into the chair, my body obeying him without my consent. Panic surged as I tried to fight the invisible force that compelled me, but it was like my limbs no longer belonged to me.


    I stared at Nidus, my eyes wide with shock and confusion. My chest heaved as I gasped for air, my mind racing to make sense of what had just happened. How? That was the only thought pounding in my head. How could he do this?


    This wasn¡¯t possible. The only one who could compel me like this was the warden back in the cell block. The same warden who had reduced me¡ªand the others like me¡ªto mere tools. Pawns.


    ¡°W-what did you do to me?¡± I whispered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to stay composed.


    Nidus didn¡¯t answer immediately. He leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze never leaving mine. His expression was unreadable, but there was a weight to it, a presence that suddenly felt overwhelming.


    ¡°Just who the hell are you?¡± I demanded, though my voice cracked with the fear I couldn¡¯t quite hide.


    ¡°I¡¯m Nidus, didn¡¯t you know?¡± he said simply, his sharp blue eyes still locked onto mine. The name sounded hollow now, empty of meaning.


    Then, as if indulging my earlier question, he continued. ¡°You asked if I knew what those red orbs were? Of course, I do. And yes, I could have destroyed one the moment it was in my hands¡ªexactly as the warden would have wanted.¡±


    His tone was conversational, but there was a weight beneath it, a history he wasn¡¯t saying outright. ¡°In fact,¡± he added, ¡°I¡¯m surprised you managed to acquire them in the first place. And two at that.¡±


    That revelation caught me off guard. The way he spoke¡­ it was as if these orbs were rarer than I¡¯d thought, more than just a dangerous curiosity. But his next words sent a jolt of disbelief through me.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t destroy one for two reasons,¡± he said. ¡°First, I wanted to look at them. It¡¯s been ages since I¡¯ve seen one. A nostalgia of sorts.¡± His lips curled faintly at the memory. ¡°Second¡­ well, I¡¯m too old. I understand my limits. I can¡¯t use them.¡±


    I blinked, trying to piece together what he was saying. ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, my voice harsher than intended.


    Nidus exhaled slowly, leaning forward now, resting his elbows on his knees. He seemed to be deciding how much to tell me. ¡°These red spheres,¡± he began, ¡°aren¡¯t just some random objects. They¡¯re keys. Keys to this realm. I¡¯ve spent decades here, and over the years, I¡¯ve learned bits and pieces about this place¡ªmost of it from others like me. People who had been here even longer.¡±


    I stiffened. ¡°Others?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Dozens, maybe hundreds over time. They all had their theories, their stories. But the most consistent one is this: this realm isn¡¯t the real world. It¡¯s some kind of¡­ dimension, split off from reality. A trial ground, if you will, created by whoever brought us here.¡±


    The words struck like a hammer to my chest. I stared at him, my mind spinning.


    ¡°These red spheres,¡± he continued, holding up a finger as if teaching a lesson, ¡°are the keys to leaving. Destroy one, and you leave this realm. You may return to the real world¡ªor at least, that¡¯s the theory. What happens after that? No one knows. But I¡¯ve seen many ¡®pawns,¡¯ as ¡®they¡¯ call us, disappear after destroying one.¡±


    The weight of what he was saying hit me all at once. My mind struggled to understand the weaving information on display. If he was telling the truth, then these weren¡¯t just strange artifacts¡ªthey were my only way out.


    But before I could respond, Nidus spoke again, his voice softening tinged with sadness. ¡°I gave up the chance to leave a long time ago.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°I¡¯ve been here for decades. Long enough to realize that this realm¡ªthis trial¡ªwasn¡¯t meant for people like me anymore. It¡¯s for children. Young, adaptable minds with the potential to survive and succeed. I¡¯ve seen the pattern too many times. And me? I¡¯ve stayed here too long. Wasted too many years. Even if I used one now¡­¡± His voice trailed off, his eyes darkening with something I couldn¡¯t place¡ªregret, maybe, or fear.


    ¡°What would happen if you did?¡± I pressed.


    He shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. And I¡¯m not eager to find out. There¡¯s a certain reason why only children are sent here. Additionally, there¡¯s a reason why the trials seem to favor the young. Whatever happens to adults like me who take a way out¡­ I¡¯m not willing to risk it.¡±


    His explanation felt flawed, the sheer defeat in his voice infuriating. I couldn¡¯t believe what I was hearing. ¡°So what?¡± I snapped. ¡°You¡¯re just giving up? Letting this place keep you forever?¡±


    My words hung in the air, and for the first time, Nidus seemed taken aback. He studied me with a quiet intensity, the smirk that usually danced on his face gone.


    ¡°It¡¯s not giving up,¡± he said after a long pause. ¡°It¡¯s knowing when a fight isn¡¯t mine to win anymore.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s bullshit,¡± I shot back. My voice cracked with emotion I hadn¡¯t meant to show, anger and frustration spilling out of me. ¡°If you had a way out¡ªif you really had the choice¡ªyou¡¯d take it. Anyone would, it¡¯s common sense!¡±


    But Nidus just stared at me, unflinching. And for the first time, I couldn¡¯t tell if he pitied me¡ªor if he envied me.


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand¡±, Nidus implied seriously.

 Chapter 14

    Chapter 14


    Nidus stared at me with those sharp, unfazed eyes, his words echoing in my head like a riddle meant to unsettle. ¡°You don¡¯t understand,¡± he had said, his tone neither condescending nor kind, but with a weight that suggested I wouldn¡¯t like the answer if I pried deeper.


    But I wasn¡¯t about to let it go.


    ¡°What don¡¯t I understand?¡±


    I shot back, my voice laced with disbelief. His entire existence felt like an anomaly, a puzzle that refused to fit into the jagged rules of this place. The experience at the cell block had made it clear that this realm was no haven for those who faltered. Weak ¡®pawns¡¯ weren¡¯t given second chances¡ªthey were erased.


    Thinking back to the god awful screams, I was sure of it.


    And yet, here Nidus was, defying that very logic. Too old he says and yet still¡­ alive.


    ¡°Why would they let you live?¡±


    I pressed, narrowing my eyes. ¡°Why would they allow anyone like you to remain, to keep living when everything about this place screams otherwise? You¡¯re too old. You¡¯ve given up. You¡¯re a contradiction to everything this supposed realm stands for.¡±


    He didn¡¯t flinch, didn¡¯t even bristle at the accusation. Instead, his lips quirked upward in a faint, almost self-deprecating smile.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said simply, his voice as calm as ever.


    ¡°I¡¯ve asked myself that same question countless times, but I don¡¯t have an answer. Maybe they see me and the others as mere weeds¡ªunimportant, insignificant. Maybe I¡¯m just below their notice, a speck in their world too large for me to comprehend.¡±


    His honesty caught me off guard, but it didn¡¯t satisfy me. It didn¡¯t explain anything.


    ¡°Or maybe,¡± he continued, his gaze turning distant, ¡°I play some hidden role in their grand design. Something I¡¯m not even aware of. Something none of us are aware of.¡± He shrugged, his nonchalance infuriating.


    ¡°But I don¡¯t know, and I¡¯ve stopped trying to figure it out. Being alive is enough for me.¡±


    The sheer resignation in his voice sent a ripple of contempt through me, though I hid it well. This man¡ªthis supposed survivor¡ªhad completely lost his ambition. He spoke like someone who had already decided he wasn¡¯t worth the effort it would take to fight for freedom.


    Then came the words that only deepened my disdain.


    ¡°Perhaps I¡¯m not destined to leave this place,¡± he said, his tone almost wistful. ¡°Perhaps others are. Those who are destined to succeed will, and the rest of us¡­¡± He gestured vaguely at himself.


    ¡°¡­simply remain.¡±


    Destiny. I hated the way he said it, as if his fate had been carved in stone long before he ever set foot in this wretched realm. As if he had no say in his own survival.


    I bit back my frustration, keeping my voice steady. ¡°That¡¯s pathetic.¡±


    He met my gaze, unflinching, but there was no anger in his eyes. Just calm. Annoyingly calm.


    ¡°Fine,¡± I said, leaning forward, my voice sharp.


    ¡°Then answer me this. If you¡¯re just a pawn like the rest of us, how are you able to do what the warden does? How can you command obedience with a single word? ¡®Pawn.¡¯¡± I spat the word, loathing the taste of it.


    Nidus tilted his head slightly, as though contemplating to tell me. Then, without a word, he raised a hand and tapped a single finger to his temple.


    ¡°What the hell is that supposed to mean?¡± I snapped.


    ¡°It¡¯s in here,¡± he said vaguely, his voice low and deliberate.


    ¡°My head?¡± I asked, my brow furrowing. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    He didn¡¯t elaborate. His expression remained resolute, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he had already said too much.


    ¡°Explain,¡± I demanded, my voice rising. ¡°What does my head have to do with anything? How does that give you the ability to control me?¡±


    But he just shook his head, his silence a wall I couldn¡¯t break through. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t understand,¡± he said again, his tone softer this time but no less frustrating.


    ¡°Stop saying that!¡± I barked, slamming my fist against the table. ¡°If you don¡¯t want to explain, fine, but don¡¯t sit there and act like I¡¯m too stupid to get it. Just tell me the truth!¡±


    He sighed, his shoulders sinking slightly. ¡°It¡¯s not about stupidity,¡± he said, his voice weary. ¡°It¡¯s about experience. Some things you can only understand after you¡¯ve been through them, lived through enough. And you¡­¡± He looked me over, his gaze assessing.


    ¡°You haven¡¯t experienced nearly enough nor will you understand the reason why I can¡¯t elaborate.¡±


    I opened my mouth to retort, but no words came. His answer wasn¡¯t satisfying¡ªit wasn¡¯t even an answer at all. But the way he spoke, the weight behind his words, made me hesitate. For the first time, I wondered if there really was something I was missing, something he understood that I couldn¡¯t grasp yet.


    I hated it. But I couldn¡¯t deny it.


    ¡°So what now?¡± The words slipped from my mouth, low and deliberate.


    My eyes were fixed on Nidus, trying to decipher the mystery sitting across from me. His expression didn¡¯t shift, but the pause before his response stretched on longer than I expected, as though he was gathering his thoughts.


    For a moment, the silence was deafening, the weight of it pressing against my chest. I glanced at the girl, still unconscious, her breathing steady but shallow. The uncertainty of our situation tightened around my throat. Finally, Nidus spoke, his tone quieter than before, almost reflective.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure,¡± he admitted, his words measured. ¡°Why I helped the two of you, I mean.¡±


    I frowned, his admission catching me off guard. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    He leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting upward as though searching the ceiling for answers. ¡°I could¡¯ve ignored you,¡± he continued, his voice calm but tinged with something I couldn¡¯t quite place¡ªregret, maybe?


    ¡°I could¡¯ve walked away, left you there to fend for yourselves. Truth be told, that¡¯s what I should have done.¡±


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you?¡± I asked sharply, my suspicion flaring again.


    He looked at me then, his pale eyes locking with mine. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said simply. ¡°Something told me to stop. Call it a gut feeling, instinct, or whatever you want. I don¡¯t really understand it myself.¡±


    I stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit. There was none, just the same calm, detached demeanor he always wore.


    ¡°I gained nothing by helping you,¡± he went on, his tone steady. ¡°And I didn¡¯t expect to. Healing you, bringing you here¡ªit wasn¡¯t some scheme. It just¡­ felt like the right thing to do.¡±


    His words unsettled me. They didn¡¯t align with the Nidus I thought I¡¯d figured out¡ªthe cold, detached man who had long given up on hope. But, what kind of person acted out of kindness in a place like this, where survival was everything?


    ¡°You healed us,¡± I said slowly, narrowing my eyes. ¡°And you didn¡¯t even know I had those¡­ keys?¡±


    He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. ¡°That was a surprise, I¡¯ll admit. Finding those in your possession.¡±


    ¡°Then why help us?¡± I pressed. ¡°If you didn¡¯t know about the keys, if you don¡¯t even care about them anymore, then why go out of your way?¡±


    Nidus sighed, his gaze dropping to the table. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s because¡­¡± He paused, his fingers tapping lightly against the wooden surface as if searching for the right words.


    ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s because I¡¯ve been alone for so long. Longer than I care to remember. Maybe, somewhere deep down, I just couldn¡¯t bear to see more people vanish, to see more lives snuffed out before they even had a chance. Maybe¡­¡± He hesitated again, his voice softening.


    ¡°Maybe it was just a reminder of something I¡¯ve been trying to forget¡ªthat I¡¯m human too.¡±


    The admission left me cold. Something about the way he said it, the emptiness in his tone, made me realize just how deep his solitude must have run.


    ¡°But what about the others?¡± I asked, my voice quieter now. ¡°You always mention them, so how could you be alone?¡±


    Nidus let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. ¡°The others,¡± he repeated, his tone almost bitter. ¡°They¡¯re not like me. Most of them keep to themselves, hidden away in their corners of this realm, too paranoid or too broken to come out. And the ones who do interact¡­¡± He trailed off, his expression darkening.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say they¡¯re not the kind of company you¡¯d want to keep.¡±


    A shiver ran down my spine at the implication, a cold, gnawing dread settling in my stomach. ¡°Can you elaborate?¡± I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.


    ¡°They¡¯ve¡­ devolved,¡± he said, his words careful, as though he didn¡¯t want to explain.


    ¡°Whatever humanity they once had is long gone. This place does things to people the longer you remain here, things I can¡¯t even begin to describe. You were lucky it was me who found you. If it had been someone else¡­¡±


    He didn¡¯t finish the thought, but he didn¡¯t need to. The weight of his words was enough. My mind raced with possibilities, each one more horrifying than the last. I glanced at the girl again, her fragile form a stark reminder of how vulnerable we both were.


    For the first time, I felt a flicker of gratitude toward Nidus, though I didn¡¯t dare let it show. Instead, I fixed him with a hard stare, trying to push past the unease clawing at my chest.


    ¡°So, what now?¡± I asked again, my voice steadier this time.


    Nidus leaned back, folding his arms as though the weight of the conversation had finally settled on him. ¡°You can do whatever you want,¡± he said flatly, his tone neutral, yet carrying an undertone of weariness.


    ¡°It¡¯s your choice, after all. You could wander around this realm, see what it has to offer. Maybe uncover things even I haven¡¯t found. There¡¯s plenty of oddities here, enough to keep you busy for a while.¡±


    I stared at him, my lips pressed into a thin line. He spoke as if this world was some grand adventure, but the hollowness in his voice betrayed that sentiment. He continued, his gaze distant, as if replaying memories I couldn¡¯t see.


    ¡°You could even entertain the idea of exploring the furthest reaches of this place,¡± he said. ¡°Go deeper than anyone has ever gone, try to find an escape route that doesn¡¯t involve those keys.¡± He nodded toward my pockets, where the two red orbs sat, heavy with unspoken significance. ¡°But¡­¡± He paused, a faint, almost bitter smirk crossing his face.


    ¡°That would be a waste of time.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked, though part of me already guessed the answer.


    ¡°Because I¡¯ve tried,¡± he said simply. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I could see the exhaustion etched into his features.


    ¡°Countless times. No matter how far you go, how determined you are, you¡¯ll always end up back where you started. The borders of this realm don¡¯t work the way the real world does. They¡¯re not fixed. They¡­ bend, twist. It¡¯s like this entire place is a giant loop, a trap designed to keep you here.¡±


    I frowned, the revelation unsettling. ¡°You¡¯ve been to the edge?¡±


    ¡°Many times,¡± Nidus said with a hollow chuckle.


    ¡°And every time, I returned to the same damn spot, as if the realm itself was laughing at me. That¡¯s when I knew¡ªthis place isn¡¯t real. It¡¯s a mockery of the real world, a prison meant to test us, or maybe just break us. And the only way out¡­¡± He trailed off, his eyes flickering towards me.


    ¡°¡­well you already know.¡±


    But before I could fully process his meaning, he added something that caught me off guard.


    ¡°Of course,¡± he said, leaning forward slightly, ¡°you could also go looking for the others. But I wouldn¡¯t recommend it.¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± I asked, narrowing my eyes.


    He let out another dry laugh, the sound devoid of humor. ¡°Because most of them aren¡¯t worth finding. They¡¯re silent beyond normality¡± His expression darkened. ¡°And like I¡¯ve said, some are too dangerous.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re lucky, you¡¯ll find someone like me,¡± he continued, his tone faintly mocking. ¡°But chances are, you¡¯ll run into something far worse. And even if you survive them, there are still the kobolds and the guardians to worry about.¡±


    My ears perked up at the word. ¡°Guardians?¡± I repeated, latching onto the unfamiliar term.


    Nidus raised an eyebrow, his expression briefly curious. ¡°The rocky ones,¡± he said, as though the answer was obvious. ¡°The ones you¡¯ve probably seen already. The golems.¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re mostly harmless,¡± Nidus continued. ¡°Docile, unless you provoke them.¡± His smirk returned, faint but amused.


    I recalled that moment vividly, the thunderous crack of lightning and the chaos that followed. ¡°So they¡¯re not just mindless constructs?¡±


    ¡°Far from it,¡± Nidus said. ¡°They¡¯re the defenders of the keys, the guardians of this realm¡¯s secrets. They don¡¯t attack unless you give them a reason to, but their purpose is clear¡ªto protect the keys at all costs. As for how they came to be¡­¡± He shrugged. ¡°That, I don¡¯t know. They¡¯ve always been here, patrolling the domain, as if tethered to it.¡±


    A question formed in my mind, one I hesitated to ask but couldn¡¯t ignore. ¡°What happens if someone destroys one?¡±


    Nidus¡¯s gaze sharpened, his expression shifting into something unreadable. For a moment, he looked at me, then down at my pockets, as if sizing me up. ¡°You¡¯re assuming it¡¯s possible to destroy one,¡± he said finally, his voice low.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked, my unease growing.


    ¡°They¡¯re not like us,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re not flesh and blood. They¡¯re¡­ something else. I¡¯ve never seen one destroyed, and I doubt it can be done. But even if someone did manage it¡­¡± He trailed off, his lips curling into a faint, sardonic smile.


    ¡°Another would just take its place. This realm is mysterious in many ways.¡±


    Nidusshifted slightly in his chairl, his gaze steady and his tone calm as he spoke. ¡°So, I suggest you break those keys and get on outta here,¡± he said plainly, as if the solution were the simplest thing in the world.


    ¡°Give one to the girl and be done with it. It¡¯s not like you can leave this place while keeping one in your possession, can you? I highly doubt that. So, there¡¯s no point in keeping the other.¡±


    His words lingered in the air like smoke, filling the silence between us. Then, with a faint smirk, he added, ¡°Besides, I think the listening girl over there would kindly welcome the gesture. Isn¡¯t that right?¡±


    His eyes flicked to her with an almost mocking amusement, and I instinctively turned toward her as well. At first, I thought he might¡¯ve been joking¡ªjust throwing out a wild accusation for the sake of his own amusement.


    But then I saw her stir. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she straightened from her feigned slumber, pushing herself up into a sitting position with a complicated expression that danced between guilt and defiance.


    My chest tightened in surprise. I hadn¡¯t expected her to actually be awake. I thought back to how my entire attention had been on Nidus the whole time, oblivious to anything else. Had she really been listening this entire time?


    The girl glanced at Nidus first, her jaw tight and her lips pressed into a thin line, then shifted her gaze to me. She avoided direct eye contact at first, her expression guarded, as though she wasn¡¯t quite sure what to say or how to explain herself.


    I took the opportunity to study her closely.


    Her hair was a deep, inky black, streaked with uneven strands of lighter gray, as though it had been bleached by prolonged exposure to something unnatural. It hung in choppy layers, framing a heart-shaped face with pale skin that seemed almost translucent in the dim light. Her almond-shaped eyes were a startling shade of amber, glowing faintly with an eerie warmth that seemed to contrast with the coldness of this realm.


    A small scar ran along the edge of her left cheekbone, almost invisible unless you were looking closely. Her features were youthful, but there was a sharpness to her expression¡ªan edge that hinted at futile survival.


    ¡°How long have you been listening?¡± I asked, my tone harsh as I narrowed my eyes at her.


    The girl finally met my gaze but remained silent, her lips parting slightly as if to speak before quickly pressing shut again. She shifted uncomfortably, her eyes flicking between me and Nidus as though weighing her options.


    Before she could answer, Nidus chuckled, his tone light but tinged with amusement. ¡°From the start,¡± he said, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as though he found the entire situation endlessly entertaining.


    The revelation made me bristle slightly. I glanced back at the girl, who looked away from Nidus, focusing her attention on me instead. Her silence hung in the air, heavy and unspoken, but her expression was enough to confirm the truth of Nidus¡¯s words.


    ¡°Anyways, that¡¯s the most logical plan from my view,¡± Nidus continued, his voice drawing my attention back to him. He gestured vaguely with his hand, as if to dismiss any lingering doubts.


    ¡°Break the keys. Leave this place. It¡¯s not complicated. Besides, it¡¯s not like I care where you got two keys from¡ªit¡¯s no longer my business.¡±


    His eyes gleamed with curiosity as he leaned forward slightly, studying me with an almost predatory intensity. ¡°But,¡± he added, his tone softening into something more genuine, ¡°I am curious to see what happens when you destroy one. I¡¯d like to witness that for myself, with my own two eyes.¡±


    The faint smirk on his face returned, but this time, there was something different about it¡ªsomething lighter. It wasn¡¯t just amusement anymore; it was anticipation.