《Blade of the Fallen》


 Introduction

    It was a hot, stormy day when Izak¡¯s life took a turn. Alone in his small apartment, he packed his gear for a long-awaited trip to Iceland. After years of struggling as a freelance photographer, he''d finally secured a contract with a notorious firm. His mission? To capture close-up shots of two newly active volcanoes.


    ¡°Alright, I think that¡¯s everything... 14-35mm, trusty 24-70mm, and my 100-500 for those lava shots,¡± Izak muttered to himself.


    This trip would be his last shot at making it as a professional. If it didn¡¯t work, he¡¯d have no choice but to find a regular job.


    "Almost time to go..." Thunder rumbled outside, rattling the windows. "Not the best day to fly," he mumbled under his breath.


    It took over an hour to reach Quito¡¯s airport. Rain poured down, lightning lighting up the roads. The radio in the taxi barely cut through the storm''s roar. Izak had moved to Ecuador twelve years ago with his late wife, Elsa. After two years in Australia, they¡¯d chosen Ecuador as their home. Tomorrow marked the anniversary of Elsa¡¯s disappearance. Three years ago, she¡¯d vanished during a flight from Quito to Cuenca. No one knew what had happened. The pain still lingered, and photography had become his therapy.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    The massive clock at the airport read 23:30. He had just under two hours to check in and clear customs. Even at almost 37, traveling still made him nervous. Unlike Elsa, he hated flying. Packing and unpacking at customs was just a hassle. I shouldn''t have had that coffee, he thought.


    Settling into his seat in economy, he tried to relax. The rain had finally stopped, and the pilot had signaled for takeoff. It would be an 11-hour flight to Amsterdam, followed by a connection to Keflav¨ªk International.


    ¡°Alright, Izak, new beginning,¡± he muttered to himself.


    The plane had been flying over the Atlantic for hours when the shaking started. Please return to your seat and fasten your seatbelt. We are entering a zone of turbulence, the captain''s voice crackled. Izak turned off his Nintendo Switch and stowed it, adjusting his seat.


    "Here we go again... I fucking hate flying. I should¡¯ve just stayed in Ecuador," he grumbled.


    Then, a lightning bolt struck the right wing of the plane. The lights flickered, and the plane jolted violently. The thunder¡¯s roar was deafening, and for a moment, Izak thought it might tear apart. His heart raced. He knew planes were built for this, but that didn¡¯t stop his panic.


    A second lightning strike hit, and everything went white. Silence followed, as if time itself had stopped. Izak thought it was the end¡ªat least I¡¯ll see Elsa again...


    If only he knew that he was about to find out just how true that was.

 Chapter 1

    The world slowly returned to Izak¡ªfirst, the sound of rushing water, loud and strong. It reminded him of rapids. Strange, though¡ªthere were no rapids where he lived. It was just a small town in the highlands. Then his body shivered as an icy wind sliced through his hoodie. Every muscle ached, as if he¡¯d run a marathon in his sleep, and his limbs felt heavy. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Mornings had always been a struggle for him; the light was his worst enemy upon waking. Yet, if there was one thing he was proud of, it was his vivid green eyes and sharp sight. Those were what allowed him to spot wildlife so effortlessly while shooting with his camera. When he finally managed to force them open, he found himself lying in a tiny glade surrounded by impossibly tall trees that stretched toward the sky like jagged spires. Their twisted branches clawed at the clear sky, reminding him of the forests in Madeira, but these trees were far larger¡ªtowering, ancient. The grass beneath him was damp, and the thick canopy of the trees acted like a natural umbrella, letting almost no sunlight through. Moss and mushrooms clung to rocks and tree trunks in every direction. The air smelled of wet earth and grass, with an undertone of something unfamiliar. He turned his gaze toward the source of the rushing water. A river, about thirty meters away, churned violently¡ªa dark torrent racing along its path. Just the sight of it made him feel small and vulnerable. There was no way he could cross it from here. Anyway all he could see on the other side was only more trees. Groaning, Izak sat up, his body protesting every movement. His head swam with dizziness, making it difficult to think. He ran his hands over his head, checking for injuries, and glanced down at himself. His clothes¡ªan oversize sweatpants, a t-shirt, and his favorite black hoodie¡ªwere damp, dirty, and clinging to his skin, the result of sweat mixed with the humid air. There was no sign of anyone else. No wreckage. No cries for help. Not even the faint hum of engines or smoke from a crash. ¡°Where¡­?¡± His voice cracked, barely audible over the wind. He pressed his hands to his temples, trying to make sense of it all. Memories came in jagged flashes: the blinding light of a lightning strike hitting the plane, the deafening roar of thunder, the terrified cries of passengers¡ªand then... nothing. A blank, white void. The sudden recollection sent a spike of panic through him, and as if on cue, a sharp, excruciating pain tore through his skull. It felt as though a blade had been driven through his head. Izak gasped, unable to make a sound¡ªnot even a whimper. His vision darkened at the edges, and the world tilted. The last thing he remembered before succumbing to the darkness was the cold, wet grass beneath him and the relentless roar of the river.


    When Izak opened his eyes again, the world had dimmed. Shadows danced across the glade, cast by the swaying trees. The sky above glowed an unusual red and was dotted with stars, though no moon was visible¡ªperhaps hidden by the surrounding forest. The wind howled softly, rustling the trees. Their creaking branches sounded like skeletal arms reaching out, and the leaves whispered an eerie melody. He shivered, goosebumps prickling his arms and neck. The chill shocked his body into motion; he had to move¡ªfast. Testing his limbs, he found them lighter now, though a dull ache lingered in his muscles. Hours must have passed. The tall grass beneath him had acted like a natural mattress, though now it was damp and cold. Slowly, he sat up, his breath fogging in the freezing air. He didn¡¯t need to be an expert to know he wouldn¡¯t survive the night out in the open. His mind raced. His years of hiking and camping in South America had taught him the basics: shelter first, everything else second. He scanned his surroundings. The river was close¡ªhe could hear it roaring¡ªbut its dampness would only make things worse. Staying in the glade wasn¡¯t an option either; it offered no cover, only exposure to the elements. That left the forest. Izak¡¯s gaze shifted to the tree line, the shadows between the trunks looming like a wall of darkness. The twisted, gnarled trees might provide some kind of shelter. Perhaps he could find a hollow large enough to crawl into or piece together a rudimentary shelter with fallen branches and leaves. But the thought of venturing into the forest sent a chill down his spine, one that had nothing to do with the cold. The woods felt... alive. The shadows seemed deeper, the air heavier, almost oppressive. ¡°I really don¡¯t want to go in there,¡± Izak muttered, the words slipping from his tight lips. But if he wanted to survive the night, he had no choice. Standing slowly, his knees stiff and reluctant, he began moving toward the edge of the glade, step by step. It felt like walking straight into the jaws of a predator. ¡°I¡¯ll just stay near the edge,¡± he told himself, his voice trembling slightly. ¡°No need to go too deep. Just¡­ find a decent tree, some branches, and make it through the night. Then figure things out in the morning.¡± The wind howled again, almost mocking his resolve. He stopped, swallowing hard, before forcing himself forward. Logic demanded action, and survival demanded courage. Now standing just a few steps from the tree line, Izak stared into the forest¡¯s depths. The canopy was so thick it completely obscured the sky. No stars, no moon¡ªonly faint, shifting shadows danced over him, swaying and twisting with the rhythm of the wind. ¡°Just the branches and leaves,¡± he told himself, his voice barely above a whisper. He wished desperately for his camera bag¡ªit had a flashlight in it. But no, he had nothing. Only his damp clothes: oversized black sweatpants, a t-shirt, and his trusty hoodie. At least in the darkness, he wouldn¡¯t stand out. With careful, deliberate steps, Izak ventured deeper into the forest, his eyes scanning every direction. The ground was treacherous¡ªroots twisted and curled like gnarled fingers, eager to trip him with every step. The forest floor was a chaotic mess of damp leaves, loose dirt, and hidden dips. He couldn¡¯t afford to fall; his body still ached, and who knew what kind of insects or creatures lurked beneath the foliage. Time wasn¡¯t on his side either¡ªhe had maybe an hour before the growing darkness would make each step a gamble. Shelter was a necessity, and he needed it fast.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    As he moved, the trees grew wider, their massive trunks cloaked in rough, thick bark that seemed to drink in the dim light, making them appear even darker. The forest was alive with sound. Insects buzzed incessantly, their droning hum pressing against his ears and making his skin crawl. Every so often, the rustle of leaves or the soft patter of tiny feet caught his attention¡ªsmall creatures scurrying out of sight as he approached. The sudden movements startled him more than once. Still, the presence of wildlife was a double-edged sword. On one hand, it was a sign that food might be possible¡ªif he could catch it of course, he had experience in tracking but not in hunting. On the other, it meant predators could be near, the kind that wouldn¡¯t hesitate to turn him into prey. His gut tightened at the thought, and he quickened his pace. The dense undergrowth clawed at him, thorns snagging his oversized sweatpants. Progress was slow and frustrating; more than once, he had to shove past stubborn brambles or overgrowth that tugged at his clothes. His sweat dampened his skin, chilling him in the already cold air. When he glanced behind, the glade was no longer visible. Though he hadn¡¯t ventured far, the maze of trees and vegetation had swallowed it completely. Turning back wasn¡¯t an option¡ªpanic would only make him lose what little sense of direction he had left. Grabbing a fallen branch, Izak fashioned a crude walking stick. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but it was better than nothing. He used it to test the ground ahead and push aside stubborn foliage. The thought of cutting his hands on thorns or sharp bark made him cautious; bleeding in a forest like this could attract who-knows-what. The minutes dragged on, each step feeling heavier than the last. The forest seemed endless, an oppressive labyrinth with no clear path forward. Then, finally, a glimmer of hope. Up ahead, a massive tree came into view. It was at least twice as wide as the others, its immense trunk riddled with knots and scars. At its base was an opening, large enough for him to crawl into. Relief flooded through him. ¡°This should do,¡± he murmured, his voice barely audible over the forest¡¯s ambient hum. Kneeling down, he yanked up handfuls of grass to create a rough, makeshift mattress inside the hollow. It wasn¡¯t much, but it would have to do. He then gathered fallen branches and leaned them against the entrance, hoping to block some of the wind¡ªor at least create the illusion of protection. Finally, Izak eased onto the bed of grass. His body screamed for rest. The adrenaline that had kept him going earlier had completely faded, leaving him drained. As he closed his eyes, thoughts churned in his mind. What is this place? The trees, the sounds, the feeling of being watched¡ªeverything about this forest was wrong. The oppressive atmosphere gnawed at him, making him feel like prey in someone else''s domain. Yet exhaustion proved stronger than fear. Slowly, sleep took him.


    Izak dreamt of a woman.


    She walked toward him with a fluid, almost ethereal grace. Her long, dark hair cascaded nearly to her hips, and her angular, striking face held a beauty that seemed both regal and dangerous. Her eyes glowed a deep crimson, like embers burning in the dark. She wore a torn black dress that clung to her slender frame, and behind her stretched two black wings. A jagged, fractured horn jutted from the right side of her forehead, and on the left simply stood a fresh looking scar. She was a vision straight out of an epic fantasy tale. ¡°Come find me,¡± she said, her voice like a whisper carried on the wind. ¡°You have to hurry. Follow the river upstream until you reach the ruins.¡± Izak knew he was dreaming, how could it be otherwise, yet he couldn¡¯t stop himself from speaking. ¡°Who are you? What do you want?¡± Her piercing red eyes met his, and it felt as though she was peering into his very soul. ¡°If you want to live,¡± she said softly, ¡°and if you wish to find Elsa, you must reach me.¡± His breath hitched. Elsa? Before he could respond, the dream shattered.


    A rustling noise snapped Izak awake. He bolted upright, his heart pounding. The hollow tree surrounded him like a cocoon, but the noise had come from outside. Crawling forward, he carefully parted the branches he¡¯d used to cover the entrance and peered out. A rabbit darted across the forest floor. Izak exhaled, a mix of relief and frustration flooding him. ¡°Just a rabbit,¡± he muttered. ¡°You scared the hell out of me.¡± As the rabbit disappeared into the underbrush, Izak leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. But his thoughts lingered on the dream. The woman¡¯s words echoed in his mind: Follow the river upstream. Find the ruins. And then there was her mention of Elsa. His late wife¡¯s name. Could it have been just a hallucination brought on by exhaustion and stress? Maybe. But something about it felt¡­ real. Too vivid to dismiss. Regardless, following the river had been his plan all along for this new day. He remembered the survival advice: rivers often lead to civilization. Even if the dream was meaningless, it was still the best course of action. Determined, Izak steeled himself. He would find the river, and he would move upstream. Whether it led to ruins, salvation, or something else entirely¡ªhe had no choice but to see it through.

 Chapter 2

    Izak adjusted the makeshift shelter one last time before stepping out into the morning light. His first objective was clear: find the glade, then make his way to the river. The woman¡¯s words from his dream echoed in his mind: Follow the river upstream. Find the ruins. Whether it had been a hallucination or something more, he couldn¡¯t ignore it. Even if it meant nothing, the survival advice he remembered¡ªthat rivers often lead to civilization¡ªmade it the logical path forward. The forest looked entirely different in the light of day. The oppressive and eerie atmosphere of the night had lifted, replaced by an almost serene beauty. Droplets of water fell intermittently from the leaves high above, glistening like tiny jewels before disappearing into the mossy undergrowth. Everything seemed alive and vibrant. The grass beneath his boots was wet with dew, and as he looked closer, he noticed moss and mushrooms blanketing the ground and tree trunks, thriving in the dim light that barely filtered through the canopy. Izak walked slowly, taking in the details of his surroundings. Despite his precarious situation, he couldn¡¯t help but admire the strange beauty of the forest. Was it his love for nature and woodlands, or was it the sheer otherworldliness of this place? He couldn¡¯t decide. One thing was certain, though¡ªthis wasn¡¯t Earth. The thought settled heavily in his mind, but he pushed it aside for now. Survival came first. He had been walking for only a few minutes when a faint sound reached his ears. It was unmistakably the sound of flowing water. ¡°Must be the river,¡± he muttered to himself. He hesitated for a moment, considering his options. The glade shouldn''t be too far, but its small size made it easy to miss, especially in this dense forest. The sound of the river, on the other hand, was a reliable guide. It seemed safer to head directly toward the water. Making up his mind, Izak turned left, toward the sound of the river. The noise grew louder with each step, a steady, rushing cadence that broke the forest¡¯s stillness. Within ten minutes, he emerged from the trees and stood at the edge of a wide river. It was at least ten meters across, its dark water churning and rushing with a powerful current. The canopy above was so thick that even here, along the riverbank, the sky was barely visible. The forest¡¯s dominance extended even to the water¡¯s edge, with moss-covered roots snaking into the river and tall trees standing sentinel on both sides. Izak crouched by the riverbank, observing the water carefully. It appeared to be deep and was fast-moving, making it impossible to cross here. Thirst gnawed at him, but the dark water gave him pause. Was it safe to drink? He extended a hand and touched the surface. But the moment his fingers broke the water, a sudden force clamped around his ankle and yanked hard, dragging him toward the river. A head emerged from the water, followed by a figure in leather armor that clung to his ankle with an iron grip. Izak¡¯s heart raced as he kicked and pushed himself back, managing to slide a few centimeters away, just enough to avoid being dragged into the water but fell back on his butt. The figure¡ªwhat appeared to be a soldier¡ªtightened its hold. With a groaning effort, it reached out a second hand, grabbed a nearby root, and hauled itself partially out of the water. Mud and water cascaded off the armor, revealing worn leather plates and a gaunt face marked with exhaustion and pain. Izak froze as the figure, still gripping his ankle, began crawling closer. The soldier¡¯s other hand, now free of the root, trembling but determined, grabbed the hilt of a sword strapped to his side. As he unsheathed the weapon, the blade glinted faintly in the dim light before it swung directly toward Izak''s head. Instinct took over. Izak jerked his head back just in time, the blade slicing the air inches from his face. Some of his long hair lost. Still sitting on the muddy ground, he kicked frantically at the soldier with his free leg. His torn sneaker landed on the soldier¡¯s shoulder, causing the sword to fall to the ground, but the soldier¡¯s grip on his ankle remained firm. Adrenaline surging, Izak rolled to the side, his hand fumbling for the weapon that now lay near his feet. With a desperate cry, he grabbed the sword and drove its tip into the soldier¡¯s back as the man lay flat on his stomach after missing his swing. He pushed with all his strength, the blade easily piercing the leather armor. The soldier groaned in pain, his grip faltering slightly, but he didn¡¯t let go. With a final, determined shove, Izak forced the blade through the man¡¯s back. The soldier let out a guttural sound before falling completely silent. Izak stumbled back, panting and wide-eyed, his hands trembling as he released the sword¡¯s hilt. He stared at the figure, his mind racing. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Izak shouted, his voice echoing across the riverbank. The soldier lay still, his battered armor and broken body a stark reminder of the violence that had just unfolded. Izak¡¯s heart pounded as he tried to process what had just happened, but his thoughts were interrupted by the urgency of survival. Panting, with adrenaline coursing through his veins, Izak¡¯s mind raced. He had just killed someone, but he didn¡¯t feel much about it. Kill or be killed. There was no time to dwell on it. The presence of the soldier raised more urgent questions. If there was one soldier, there could be others. And the torn armor suggested a battlefield might not be far away. The dense vegetation around him muffled all sounds, making it impossible to tell if anyone else was nearby. Izak decided it was time to move, and this time, silently. The armor was too damaged to be of any use, but the sword was a no-brainer. He picked it up, gripping it tightly. His thoughts briefly drifted to how surreal all of this felt. Waking up in a glade, being attacked by a soldier in medieval armor¡ªit all reminded him of the LitRPG novels he loved reading. He let out a stressed laugh. ¡°How can I think about this in a situation like that?¡± he muttered. ¡°Still, I wish a blue screen would just pop up in front of me. That would make things easier. How crazy have I become?¡± Snapping himself out of his thoughts, Izak kicked the soldier¡¯s body into the river. It would be better hidden there in case someone came around. Sword in hand, he started moving upstream, staying in the shade of the trees. He didn¡¯t want to risk being seen. The forest was dense, forcing him to weave around moss-covered boulders, fallen trees, and shallow pools of water. The day grew warmer, and Izak found himself longing for clean clothes and a shower. Thankfully, apart from a few squirrels darting through the underbrush, he didn¡¯t encounter anything else. Hours passed, and the constant hiking began to take its toll. His stomach grumbled loudly, a reminder that he hadn¡¯t eaten since the bland meal on the plane. The forest offered plenty of mushrooms and berries, but he had no idea if they were edible. Thirst was becoming an even bigger problem. He needed water, but the rushing river beside him wasn¡¯t an option; the dark water and the memory of the soldier it had carried made it untrustworthy. ¡°I need to find her,¡± he thought, desperation setting in. ¡°The woman from the dream. The demon. Whoever she is.¡± Exhausted and weakening, Izak pushed on, his pace slowing with every step. Just as despair began to creep in, he saw it: a small, broken tower half-hidden from sight by a massive tree. The ruins. Relief surged through him. ¡°This must be it,¡± he whispered, gripping the sword tightly. Renewed by the sight, he made his way toward the tower, ready for whatever lay ahead. Izak carefully walked around the broken structure, his eyes scanning for any signs of life. The tower was weathered and crumbling, its stones damp and slick with moss, climbing vines twisting up like veins of a long-forgotten giant. There were no windows visible, and the entrance seemed to have long since collapsed. ¡°There¡¯s no way I can get inside,¡± Izak mumbled, frustration creeping into his voice. Perhaps the entryway was buried entirely under centuries of debris. A sudden, sharp caw startled him, cutting through the stillness. He turned toward the sound. A large crow, bigger than any he¡¯d ever seen, perched on a mossy boulder surrounded by thick bushes. Its dark eyes fixed on him, unblinking, as though it were judging him. Izak hesitated but decided to approach. The crow didn¡¯t move, even as he stepped closer. Then, with a sharp caw, it jumped onto a low branch of a nearby bush, its gaze still locked on him, almost as if beckoning him to follow. Izak¡¯s brow furrowed, but he couldn¡¯t shake the strange feeling that the crow wanted to show him something. Moving cautiously, he followed its lead. When he was just two steps away, he finally saw it¡ªan opening in the boulder, cleverly hidden behind the thick bushes. Shocked, Izak stared at the crow, which flapped its wings once and cawed again before disappearing into the forest canopy. ¡°Was that bird actually helping me?¡± he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. The thought lingered, both absurd and unsettling, but something about the crow''s behavior gnawed at him. Its actions felt deliberate, almost purposeful, as if it carried a strange intelligence that defied reason. Regardless, the discovery was undeniable. With two swift swings of his sword, he cut away the dense foliage obstructing the entrance. The opening was small, barely large enough for him to crawl through, but it was his only way forward. Dropping to his knees, Izak began to crawl inside. Darkness swallowed him almost immediately. The air was damp, carrying a faint metallic tang, and his shallow breaths echoed softly off the rough walls. His hands felt along the rough, uneven walls as he moved blindly forward. The tunnel was narrow, just wide enough for him to stretch his arms and touch both sides. The incline steepened as he progressed, forcing him to brace himself to avoid slipping. Each movement sent chills down his spine. The oppressive dark pressed against him, and the thought of unseen critters scuttling along the damp walls made his skin crawl. After what felt like an eternity, faint shadows began to flicker ahead of him. The dim, shifting light came from deeper within, and as he continued, the tunnel gradually widened. Soon, he was able to stand, though he moved cautiously, holding his sword with both hands. The flickering light grew stronger, and Izak found himself stepping into a circular cavern. The walls were lined with sconces holding flames that burned a deep, otherworldly red, casting strange, shifting shadows that danced across the stone. The cavern¡¯s centerpiece was a pool of what looked like glowing crimson liquid. And in the center of that pool, sitting with her legs bent to the side like a model in a painting, was the woman from his dream. Her scarlet eyes locked onto his, burning through the dim light with an intensity that made his chest tighten. A faint, knowing smile curved her lips, and the air in the cavern seemed to hum faintly, as if her presence alone commanded it. ¡°Here you are,¡± she said, her voice soft but carrying an undeniable power. Izak froze, his breath caught in his chest. Everything felt like a d¨¦j¨¤ vu, and only now did it come rushing back to him. He had dreamed of this exact moment many times as a child¡ªhim standing in this room, facing this intriguing demon or whatever she was. Fear drained from his body, and for the first time since waking up in the glade, he felt¡­ secure. Safe? ¡°You¡¯ve come a long way,¡± she continued, her voice rich with warmth but laced with an unmistakable sorrow. ¡°But the real journey¡­ is only just beginning.¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

 Chapter 3

    The cave was dark and oppressive, the air thick with a strange, metallic tang. A faint crimson glow pulsed from the cracks in the rock, casting eerie shadows that danced across the jagged walls. Izak¡¯s heart pounded as he stared at her¡ªthe woman from his dreams. She was real. Yet not as he¡¯d imagined. Frail, her breath shallow, she looked as though she were barely clinging to life. Her eyes, however, burned with an otherworldly intensity, a mix of pain, exhaustion, and something deeper¡ªdetermination.


    ¡°I knew you¡¯d come,¡± she said, her voice raspy but calm, like a faint echo of a forgotten melody. ¡°But I didn¡¯t think it would take this long.¡±


    Izak opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. His mind raced with questions. Who was she? Why him? Where was he?


    Finally, he managed to ask, ¡°Who¡­ who are you? And¡­ where am I?¡±


    She lowered herself onto a jagged stone, her movements slow, deliberate, as though even the act of sitting was draining. ¡°Still on Earth,¡± she said, her tone tinged with melancholy. ¡°But on the other side. A parallel dimension, like the flip side of a coin. Everything you know exists here, too¡­ but twisted, corrupted by the ether.¡±


    She paused, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Izak noticed the faint shimmer of her skin, streaked with dark veins that seemed to pulse faintly before fading again. She looked up at him, her eyes dimming for a moment. ¡°I am an exile,¡± she said, bitterness seeping into her words. ¡°My own kind condemned me. They took my horns¡ªour source of power¡ªand left me here to rot. I¡¯ve been trapped in this cave for over a century.¡±


    The words hit Izak like a hammer. ¡°A¡­ a century?¡± he stammered. ¡°How¡¯s that even possible?¡±


    ¡°Time flows differently here,¡± she replied with a weary sigh. ¡°But it doesn¡¯t matter now. What matters is you. You¡¯re the reason I survived this long.¡±


    He frowned, confusion mingling with unease. ¡°Me? I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    She gave him a faint, wistful smile. ¡°Thirty years ago, I felt it¡ªa connection. You¡¯re more sensitive to the ether than anyone from your world. I don¡¯t know why, but I could sense your dreams, your presence. I used what little energy I had left to reach you, to pull you into my world. I¡¯ve been waiting ever since.¡±


    Izak took a step back, his instincts screaming at him to run. Yet, something held him there¡ªher voice, her presence. It was impossible to explain, but it was as if her words resonated deep within him.


    ¡°You brought me here,¡± he said slowly, the realization sinking in. ¡°Why? What do you want from me?¡±


    Her expression hardened, the fire in her eyes flaring once more. ¡°Revenge,¡± she said, her voice cold as stone. ¡°The demon who exiled me¡ªthe one who took my horns¡ªhe rules now. My grandfather¡¯s throne stolen by his own brother, and my power stripped from me. I cannot rest until he falls.¡±


    She leaned forward, her voice softening. ¡°But I¡¯m dying, Izak. My strength is gone. Soon, I¡¯ll fade into the ether. That¡¯s why I need you. My blood can become your weapon. With it, you¡¯ll have the strength to survive here. To fight. And to find your Elsa.¡±


    At the mention of Elsa, his breath hitched. ¡°You¡­ you know about her?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°The plane crash¡ªan anomaly caused by a storm here years ago. It tore the veil between worlds, pulling everyone aboard into this place. Whether she¡¯s alive, I can¡¯t say. But if you want to find her, you¡¯ll need power. The kind of power only I can give you.¡±


    Her words were a storm, battering against his resolve. It all sounded insane. Another side of Earth? Demons and kingdoms at war? A connection to his dreams? And yet, something inside him¡ªa deep, instinctive pull¡ªurged him to believe her. Was it her doing? Or was it something deeper, something primal?


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I can trust you,¡± he admitted, his voice shaking. ¡°You¡¯re a demon.¡±


    She smiled faintly, but it didn¡¯t reach her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t ask for trust, Izak. Only your decision. If you agree, I¡¯ll give you my power. I¡¯ll awaken the strength that lies dormant within you, and I¡¯ll teach you the ways of this world. You¡¯ll become more than you ever imagined. But you must choose now. I don¡¯t have much time left.¡±


    She looked away, her gaze distant. ¡°I¡¯ve seen so much pain, so much betrayal. But when I found you in your dreams¡­ for the first time in a century, I felt something other than hatred. I felt hope.¡±


    Her voice cracked on the last word, and for a brief moment, Izak saw the woman beneath the demon¡ªthe pain of exile, the weight of a century of solitude, the longing for freedom. And for a reason he couldn¡¯t explain, he knew what his answer would be.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.¡°I accept,¡± Izak said. Relief flickered in her eyes. She gestured for him to come closer and stand before her. Her gaze dropped to the sword still clenched in his hand.


    ¡°Stab me,¡± she said, her voice quiet but firm.


    Izak recoiled. ¡°What?¡±


    Her eyes locked onto his. ¡°Stab me, please. It¡¯s the only way.¡±


    His grip tightened on the hilt as hesitation flooded him. But when she repeated the words, her tone almost pleading, he swallowed hard. Took the blade in a two-handed grip, firmed his hands, and then thrust the blade into her chest.


    The sconces around the room erupted in violent red flames, bathing the cave in a blinding glow. Blood¡ªthick, dark, and steaming¡ªpoured from Azelia¡¯s wound, drenching him. She smiled faintly through the pain, tears of blood streaming down her cheeks and tracing her jawline. Her blood was hot, unbearably so, scalding his skin as it soaked him. It felt like molten fire, burning through him, and the pain was so intense he thought he might pass out.


    Azelia reached out, pulling him into an embrace, pressing him against her as the blade sank deeper into her chest. ¡°Thank you, Izak,¡± she whispered, her voice barely audible over the roaring flames.


    Blackness enveloped him, and he collapsed into the pool of blood, the world fading away.


    When Izak awoke, everything felt strange¡ªeven more so than before. The world was bathed in a crimson hue, as though the air itself carried the remnants of Azelia¡¯s power. Sounds were sharper, every drip of water and the faint skittering of critters echoing unnaturally in his ears. The red slowly faded with each blink, retreating like a tide, until his vision returned to normal. Yet, the weightless feeling in his body and the heightened awareness of the cave around him remained, a constant reminder that something within him had irrevocably changed.


    For the first time in what felt like ages, he felt rested. Truly rested. Slowly, he sat up, his eyes scanning the room. Azelia was gone. There was no sign of her body, and the floor was spotless, as though the blood that had drenched him had never existed. It was then he realized he was naked. His clothes were gone, likely burned away during¡­ whatever had happened. The only thing that remained was the sword lying near the altar where Azelia had stood.


    But the sword was different now. It was longer, sleeker, with a blade as dark as obsidian. Its design was simple, almost unassuming, save for the red cord wrapped tightly around the hilt. There was no guard separating the hilt from the blade, yet it exuded a beauty that captivated him. Izak had always loved swords, ever since his days practicing kendo as a teenager. He hadn¡¯t touched one since Elsa¡¯s disappearance.


    He rose to his feet, the cold stone biting at his bare skin, and approached the blade. The moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a warmth spread through him¡ªnot painful, but comforting, like the embrace of an old friend. Nostalgia flooded his mind, and then he heard it.


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a surprise,¡± Azelia¡¯s voice echoed faintly in his mind. ¡°I never expected to save my soul. This is thanks to you, Izak. You¡¯re more than I thought. You¡¯re also a dangerous man.¡±


    Startled, Izak nearly dropped the sword. ¡°Azelia? What happened? Where are you?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t explain now,¡± her voice replied, weaker this time. ¡°I¡¯m too weak. Just know that I¡¯m the blade now. The powers you feel¡­ they aren¡¯t mine. I only awakened what was already within you. For now, survive.¡±


    The connection severed, leaving Izak standing alone in the dark, gripping the blade. Her final word echoed in his mind: survive.


    Without anything else of interest in the cave, Izak turned toward the tunnel. The way out felt different now¡ªless oppressive, less exhausting. He stepped into the forest, blinking against the soft glow of morning light filtering through the trees. It felt unfamiliar, almost surreal. He must have slept through the night in the cave.


    Two nights. He had already spent two nights in this forest, and he silently hoped the next would be under a roof. Despite being naked, he didn¡¯t feel cold. ¡°Still, I¡¯ll need clothes,¡± he muttered. ¡°And food. Water. Or I won¡¯t survive.¡± Yet, even as he spoke, he realized those needs didn¡¯t feel urgent. Hunger and thirst, which had once plagued him, seemed to have vanished entirely. Whatever had happened to him¡­ it was more than physical. Something had changed within him.


    Sword in hand, Izak rose and began walking upstream. The memory of the guard he¡¯d encountered flashed in his mind, but instead of fear, he felt a strange, quiet confidence. He was ready for whatever came next. His journey in this strange world had only just begun.

 Chapter 4

    Izak had been walking for an hour or two when he heard voices. The gentle gurgling of the stream beside him was drowned out by the faint murmurs, carried on a breeze that whispered through the dense canopy. The air felt heavy, tinged with the earthy scent of moss and damp leaves. Straining to make sense of the distant sounds. Men, by the sound of it. Slowly, he moved closer, careful not to snap any twigs or disturb the underbrush. The voices grew clearer, louder¡ªa heated argument.


    From the safety of a large tree, Izak peeked out, his heart pounding. Somehow, he understood their words. English. For a moment, disbelief overtook him, and his mind raced. The familiarity unsettled him, yet it also filled him with a strange sense of connection to his lost reality. What were the chances? He was in another world, and yet they spoke his language. Or was it this world¡¯s language? If what Azelia had said was true, this place was connected to Earth. That might explain the overlap. He made a mental note to ask her¡ªif he survived long enough.


    From his vantage point, he saw them: four figures in a clearing. A tall, muscular man with tanned skin and short hair was yelling at the others¡ªa woman and two men. They looked like warriors, clad in mismatched pelts and leather. The woman had a bow slung across her back, while the leader carried a massive double-headed axe. The other two men wore swords at their hips. Bandits, probably. They didn¡¯t have the discipline or uniformity of soldiers.


    A crude shelter stood off to the side, cobbled together from branches and fur. The remnants of a campfire sat in the middle of the clearing, now nothing but ashes.


    ¡°Why are you already coming back empty-handed?¡± the leader barked, his tone sharp and accusatory. ¡°There were at least two dozen soldiers fighting!¡±


    ¡°I swear, boss,¡± one of the swordsmen stammered. ¡°There¡¯s nothing left. Not even corpses.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± the woman chimed in. ¡°We double-checked the area. It¡¯s like the battle never happened¡ªno bodies, no blood, no tracks. Nothing.¡±


    ¡°We should leave,¡± the second swordsman muttered, his voice low and uneasy. ¡°This forest feels... wrong.¡±


    Izak felt a chill creep up his spine. A battle with no trace of blood or corpses? He shuddered at the thought. It had to be the same clash involving the soldier he¡¯d fought.


    The leader sneered. ¡°Stop your whining, you lazy bastards. You just didn¡¯t look hard enough. I¡¯m not paying you to tell me ghost stories. Follow me!¡±


    The group began to move, the leader grabbing a fur bag hanging from an arrow lodged in a tree. They headed deeper into the forest, opposite to where Izak stood and in the direction he assumed led to the battlefield.


    He stayed hidden, holding his breath until their voices faded into the distance. Only then did he dare to step into the abandoned camp. His eyes darted around, searching for anything useful. Supplies meant survival¡ªand he wasn¡¯t above scavenging to stay alive.


    The camp was almost bare, but Izak pressed on. The shelter was a small, shoddy construction of branches and fur. Inside, he found a fire-starting kit, a map, and a set of relatively clean clothes¡ªenough to preserve what little dignity he had left.


    The real treasure was a leather harness, designed to carry a sword on one¡¯s back. That alone would make traveling much easier.


    But just as he prepared to leave, a voice pierced the air¡ªa sharp, irritated voice, unmistakably close.


    ¡°I want to put an arrow between his eyes. What a son of a bitch, sending me alone to fetch his fucking map!¡±


    Izak froze. The woman. She was back.


    Izak had no way to hide. She would see the camp had been disturbed, and it wouldn¡¯t take her long to figure out someone was still here. Running was out of the question; she had a bow, and the clearing offered little cover. Even if he somehow reached the trees, the scavengers would hunt him down. But staying meant fighting¡ªand he wasn¡¯t leaving without his haul.


    His only option was to kill her before she killed him.


    Izak tightened his grip on the sword, his pulse hammering in his ears. I need to get close without being seen.


    Her footsteps grew louder, approaching from behind, opposite the shelter''s entrance. Luck was on his side; she couldn¡¯t see him yet. There was no time to plan¡ªonly act. He crouched low, both hands gripping the sword, his muscles coiled like a spring.


    ¡°What the¡ª!¡±


    The woman¡¯s scream was cut short as Izak drove the blade through her chest as she stood in the entry. Steel pierced flesh, emerging from her back in a spray of crimson. Her body sagged, dead weight pulling the sword from his hands. She collapsed in a heap, the blade still embedded in her corpse.


    Izak staggered back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Sweat dripped from his face, mixing with the blood pooling at his feet. His heart thundered in his chest, but there was no time to spare.


    ¡°I need to go. I have to run,¡± he whispered to himself.


    Grabbing the fur bag where he had found a set of clothes, he stuffed his findings inside, yanked the sword free, and bolted into the forest.


    He ran straight from where he had arrived, adrenaline propelling him forward. Branches scratched his naked skin, and uneven terrain threatened to trip him at every step. He didn¡¯t dare stop until his legs burned and his lungs screamed for air.


    Finally, he ducked behind a massive tree, his chest heaving. He listened, straining to hear any sounds of pursuit. Only the forest¡¯s natural chorus greeted him.


    Relief flooded his senses, but he knew it wouldn¡¯t last. The scavengers would come looking for the woman soon, and when they found her body, they¡¯d know someone else had been there.


    Wasting no time, Izak dressed quickly and struggled for a moment but managed to finally secure the sword to his back. With the bag slung over his shoulder, he set off downstream, deliberately avoiding the direction the scavengers had taken.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.The thought of what he¡¯d overheard about the battlefield gnawed at him¡ªa mysterious, bloodless place where bodies vanished. Whatever had happened there, he wanted no part of it.


    Just a few kilometers from where Izak had taken refuge, the dense forest gave way to a picturesque town nestled at its edge, standing unbothered for years. Its small houses, built from sturdy timber and capped with thatched roofs, blended harmoniously with the surrounding wilderness. Smoke from chimneys spiraled lazily into the crisp air, a serene contrast to the dense, shadowy forest that bordered it to the east. It was a peaceful place with around a hundred villagers, where everyone knew everyone.


    The town was ideally situated. On the eastern side, the dense forest stretched endlessly, while to the north, tall cliffs descended into the woods, blending seamlessly with the landscape. To the south and west, vast valleys stretched as far as the eye could see, with the distant Red Sea to the far south. The nearest settlement was over seven days'' journey on horseback to the west. Here, people lived in harmony with what nature provided. Nestled in a remote corner of the kingdom of Nosgarth, the village had been spared the horrors of war for decades. Its isolation had been a blessing¡ªuntil now.


    This time, that same remoteness brought ruin upon them. A group of deserters¡ªformer soldiers of the kingdom¡ªstumbled upon the village after weeks of wandering and surviving in the depths of the forest. Starving, desperate, and stripped of humanity, they had succumbed to madness. When they saw the peaceful village, they simply raided it, sparing no thought for mercy.


    ¡°You have to run, Ailee. Run to the forest!¡± the burly village chieftain, Jack, shouted at her. His voice was strained but commanding, even as fear flickered in his eyes. Jack had spent a lifetime chopping trees and caring for the villagers, his broad frame a testament to years of hard labor.


    Ailee hesitated. She was a woman nearing thirty, the town¡¯s only healer and magic user, trusted to tend to injuries and illnesses with a rare combination of skill and magic. Her rare abilities allowed her to mend wounds, ease pain, and even slow the effects of certain poisons. Her magic wouldn''t pale in comparison to the kingdom¡¯s elite healers. If the kingdom knew of her abilities, she would have been sent to battlefields to aid soldiers.


    Despite her delicate frame, she carried an inner strength¡ªthough right now, she felt that strength slipping away. Her pale skin, almost as white as snow, contrasted with her clear blue eyes, now swollen and red with tears. She looked fragile, far too delicate for the burdens she bore. Yet it was her kindness, not her appearance, that the villagers admired most. It had been her anchor and theirs¡ªuntil today.


    Just moments ago, no fewer than twenty soldiers had emerged from the forest, their tattered uniforms smeared with dirt and blood, still faintly bearing the colors and emblem of the kingdom. Their eyes were hollow, their faces gaunt from weeks of starvation, and the stench of unwashed bodies and desperation clung to them like a second skin.


    The villagers, at first, had stared with a mixture of confusion and tentative relief, drawn in by the soldiers'' ragged uniforms and gaunt faces, believing they might be there to seek shelter or aid. That brief hope was shattered the moment swords were drawn and torches lit, the air filling with screams as chaos erupted. They began killing indiscriminately, burning homes, and looting whatever they could find. The village had been caught completely off guard.


    In less than fifteen minutes, the once-peaceful town was reduced to ashes. Almost everyone had been slaughtered¡ªmen, women, even the children. No one was spared. The soldiers wanted no witnesses.


    Ailee had been tending to Jack in her small home near the cliffs to the north when the chaos erupted. He had bruised his leg while chopping wood earlier, and she had been using her healing magic to ease his pain. Her house was one of the furthest from the center of the village, which had bought them a little time. But now, a group of soldiers had spotted them and were marching in their direction.


    Jack gritted his teeth as he grabbed his axe. ¡°I¡¯ll hold them off. You need to go, Ailee! Run to the forest, now!¡±


    Tears streamed down her face, her vision blurred from the salt stinging her eyes. Each scream from the village echoed in her mind, a relentless reminder of her powerlessness. Her chest tightened, and guilt weighed heavily on her as she struggled to push past the panic and move her legs. The weight of fear and helplessness bore down on her, freezing her in place as the screams from the village echoed in her mind.


    She shook her head weakly. ¡°I can¡¯t¡­¡± Her voice was barely a whisper. ¡°I can¡¯t move my legs¡­¡±


    Her whole body trembled as panic and guilt took hold of her. I¡¯m so useless¡­ I couldn¡¯t save anyone.


    ¡°GET OUT! RUN!¡± Jack bellowed, his voice breaking through her daze.


    Her mind burned, but sheer willpower forced her legs to move. Staggering to her feet, she turned and began running toward the forest. Behind her, she could hear Jack shouting and the heavy footsteps of soldiers closing in. One of them, a grinning brute with a scarred face, broke away from the group. He had a crossbow in his hands, his eyes gleaming with malicious glee as he loaded a bolt and took aim.


    Ailee was just a few steps from the edge of the trees when a searing pain exploded in her side. She stumbled, gasping as the crossbow bolt pierced clean through her body, the tip protruding from the other side. She collapsed onto the ground, the world spinning around her. The last thing she heard was Jack¡¯s desperate cry, echoing through the chaos.


    But beyond the pain and despair, another sound broke through¡ªthe heavy, hurried footsteps of someone approaching, cutting through the night like a harbinger of fate.

 Chapter 5

    The forest seemed less dense as Izak trudged downstream, his muscles aching and his mind clouded with exhaustion. The sun sank low on the horizon, casting long shadows over the forest floor as the first chill of evening crept into the air. Shelter felt like a distant hope, but he pressed on, driven by sheer willpower and the unrelenting instinct to survive.


    Suddenly, the distant clash of metal and chilling echoes of screams shattered the stillness. The forest¡¯s calm shattered like brittle glass, leaving Izak frozen in place, his breath hitching as the echoes of agony rippled through the trees. He strained to listen, his breath caught in his throat, as the faint sounds of shouting and the acrid scent of smoke reached him.


    Panic swelled within him. The scavengers behind him were probably still hunting him, and now this¡ªanother battlefield? More scavengers? Another nightmare?


    Against his better judgment, Izak crept forward, his every step careful, his heart pounding in sync with the rising tension in his chest. Crouching low, he moved with deliberate caution, his senses razor-sharp. Each crunch of leaves beneath his boots felt deafening, yet he pressed on. In order to avoid danger, he had to understand it. He had to see what was happening...


    As he neared the source of the commotion, the flickering light of flames revealed the gruesome truth behind the screams. Soldiers in tattered uniforms were raiding a small village, slaughtering its people and setting its homes ablaze. The stench of blood and charred flesh hung thick in the air, an oppressive miasma that clawed at his throat and ignited a slow-burning anger.


    Izak¡¯s blood froze. His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum, his ears buzzing with a deafening roar. The sight before him was a canvas of brutality¡ªmen, women, children, all butchered without mercy, their screams lingering in the air like ghosts refusing to fade. His hand moved instinctively to the sword strapped to his back, gripping the hilt tightly. His breath quickened, his muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap.


    A sudden cry shattered the din of carnage: ¡°GET OUT! RUN!¡± The voice, raw with desperation, drew Izak¡¯s attention. His breath hitched as he spotted a small figure¡ªa woman¡ªrunning frantically toward the forest. Her steps faltered, and before she could reach the safety of the trees, a soldier¡¯s bolt struck her down.


    The sight hit him like a hammer to the chest. An unrelenting surge of anger and helplessness roiled within him. His grip tightened on his sword. The red string wrapped around the hilt seemed to pulse, as if alive, blood coursing through veins. His vision tunneled on the scene before him.


    Then it came. A voice he knew, low and comforting, reverberated through his mind like a primal whisper.


    ¡°Feed me,¡± Azelia urged, her words fanning the flames of his growing rage. Her voice was both a temptation and a command, igniting something deep and feral within him.


    ¡°Be free of your chains,¡± she whispered.


    Rage surged through him, a molten tide obliterating his fear and hesitation. The cries of the dying and the scent of blood merged into a singular roar in his mind, drowning out everything but the need to act. His pulse thundered as a red haze consumed his vision.


    Before he realized it, his body was moving. He broke free from the cover of the trees, a primal roar tearing from his throat. His sword gleamed like a beacon of wrath in the fading light. Each step carried the weight of his fury, the ground trembling beneath him.


    The soldier with the crossbow barely had time to react before Izak¡¯s blade descended. Steel met flesh in a spray of crimson, and the soldier¡¯s lifeless body collapsed with a dull thud. Izak¡¯s breath came in ragged gasps, his vision painted red as something deep inside spurred him forward. Despite the red hue everything appeared clearer, sharper, things were moving slower almost like in slow motion. He moved like a blur, faster than his enemies could process.


    The two other soldiers turned, their faces twisting in shock as Izak closed the distance in an instant. Each swing of the blade carried unrelenting fury, carving through the chaos with savage precision. Blood soaked the ground as Izak cut through the soldiers like a force of nature, his power manifesting with every strike. He was no longer a man¡ªhe was rage incarnate.


    ¡°Izak! Izak!¡± A voice called out, faint and distant, barely piercing the fog of his mind. He ignored it...


    Without realizing it, Izak found himself in the center of the village. Flames roared around him, casting long shadows over the carnage. Faint whimpers rose from dying villagers sprawled across the blood-soaked ground. The main group of soldiers¡ªdeserters from their kingdom¡ªwere systematically ensuring no one survived. They stabbed and hacked at the wounded, silencing their cries.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.Izak moved as if untethered, phasing through the chaos... one by one, the soldiers fell¡ª heads rolling, torsos cleaved apart¡ªuntil half of them were dead before they even knew what was happening. When they finally saw him standing there¡ªblood-soaked, red-eyed, a shining blade in hand¡ªthey froze. It hadn¡¯t been a minute, and already half the raiders were dead.


    ¡°Retreat! Retreat!¡± their leader bellowed, panic seeping into his voice. ¡°That''s a fucking monster... We''re damned!¡±


    Alone, standing on shaking legs amidst the carnage, with the remnant of the soldiers running away, Izak¡ªcovered in blood and viscera¡ªfell to his knees, panting as a searing headache split his skull.


    ¡°You almost killed yourself,¡± Azelia¡¯s voice murmured in his mind, weak and strained. ¡°You can¡¯t lose control like that again. Your body isn¡¯t ready for this power. I had to use some of mine to keep you alive. Find the healer¡­ She¡¯s hurt but still alive. She may help you understand more the world you now live in. For now. I¡¯ll need time to recover¡­¡±


    Her voice faded, leaving only the oppressive silence of his own thoughts, the weight of her warning settling deep in his bones.


    Izak stumbled toward where the healer had crumbled to the ground. On his way, Azelia''s words lingered in his mind: "Feed me." What was the meaning of those two words? Feed her what? Lost in thought, he barely registered his surroundings until his feet stopped at the forest¡¯s edge, where she lay motionless.


    The healer, whose name he didn¡¯t know, was lying there, her clothes soaked in blood. She would die if he didn''t do anything... But he wasn''t a doctor. He didn''t know what to do. She was supposed to be a healer he thought, maybe she could heal herself if she just regained consciousness. Izak went on his knee close to her face and softly slapped her, but his eyes were pulled toward the bolt piercing her frail body. She was lying on her side. The blood still running from the wound. Something beat inside of him, stronger than a heartbeat. A warm wave traveled through his body. Instinctively, he broke the bolt and pulled the other part out of her, blood pouring from the now completely open wound. Without thinking, Izak placed one hand on her back and the other on her stomach, as if trying to stop the flow. With his palms now in direct contact the pulsing within him intensified, each throb surging with unfamiliar power. The blood, still oozing under the pressure of his hands, suddenly halted¡ªthen, impossibly, it reversed course, seeping back into her wound as though obeying an unseen command. It was a crazy sight. After a moment the blood dried and coagulated, closing completely the wound. Izak felt even more tired and withdrew his hands, his eyes now focused on the red scar that looked like a burn.


    Her eyes snapped open with a gasp, her chest rising sharply as though she had been jolted awake from a nightmare. Fear and confusion flitted across her face, her breath coming in short, frantic bursts. Her fingers twitched as if preparing to defend herself, and her gaze locked onto his with raw defiance. "Just kill me, you savage!" she spat, her voice trembling with anger.


    Taken aback, it took Izak a few moments to find his words... "My name is Izak, Izak Walker. I¡¯m not a soldier, and I¡¯m not going to kill you."


    After tense explanations, she calmed. "My name¡¯s Ailee White. Thank you for saving me."


    Despite their battered bodies, they pressed on through the devastated village, each step a struggle against the weight of exhaustion and sorrow. The weight of the massacre hung in the air, pressing down on them like a suffocating fog. Each corpse they passed told a different story¡ªsome clutched their loved ones in frozen desperation, others had perished mid-flight, their hands outstretched toward salvation that never came. The silence was deafening, broken only by Ailee¡¯s ragged breaths and the occasional rustling of fire-licked debris collapsing into itself. Izak clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as grief and anger warred within him. He glanced at Ailee, her face streaked with soot and tears, yet still, she pressed on, checking the fallen for any signs of life. She wasn¡¯t ready to give up, and neither was he. Some clung to life for mere moments, their trembling hands reaching out before their last breath escaped them, fading like embers in the wind. Ailee''s healing was not enough... Izak also tried to repeat his feat but nothing happened. Exhausted, Ailee whispered, "We need to leave. The scent of blood will attract creatures."


    They made a quick stop at Ailee''s house to gather supplies and gear before setting off into the forest. Now, each carried a bag, their steps quiet against the earth. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying secrets only the night could understand. Shadows stretched long and hungry, swallowing them whole as the moon watched in solemn silence¡ªan unblinking eye over a world steeped in blood.