The crackling of the fire blended with the low, rhythmic breaths of the forest. Molvar had drifted off during his shift, slumped against his leather bag, lips parted as if dreaming of cheese wheels and cold beer. Sir Cedric sat motionless, eyes closed but ears sharply alert. Karl, taking his turn at watch, circled the camp slowly, gaze scanning the dark tree line.
Then—
"Snap..."
A twig. Snapped. Very soft. But enough for Karl to spin.
Nothing there.
Karl narrowed his eyes and instinctively raised his hand — gravity hummed faintly around him.
The fire suddenly flickered, violently, as if something had passed just beyond its edge.
"Don't move." — Sir Cedric's voice was calm, cold. Eyes now open.
Molvar stirred. "What's going—"
"THUNK!"
A black, blade-like claw shot from the bushes, embedding itself in the log behind Molvar — barely a handspan from his head.
"AAAAA!" Molvar screamed, rolling aside as his leather bag went tumbling.
"Don't let it split us up!" Karl shouted.
From the trees, it emerged—nearly three meters tall, a monstrous, stretched simian shape with limbs like blades. Its head was shrouded in bony plates, hollow eye sockets burning with fire.
"Warden Husk." Sir Cedric growled. "They guard cursed lands."
Karl launched a burst of gravity, forcing it back, but the creature rebounded instantly, crashing through a tree as it lunged.
Cedric intercepted, sword clashing against claws in a spray of sparks. Meanwhile, Molvar ran in circles, flailing and—somehow—chucked his bag at the monster's head.
"I'M AN ALCHEMIST, NOT A FIGHTER!" he cried.
"Focus! It's not immortal!" Karl barked.
The creature turned toward Karl, and he crushed the ground with a focused pulse — the monster slammed down for a heartbeat, just long enough for Cedric to drive his sword through its shoulder.
A shriek tore through the forest.
It staggered. But instead of fighting on, it recoiled, leapt back into the woods, and vanished into the shadows.
Silence.
Only scorched grass, dark blood, and the fading echo of rage remained.
Karl panted. Molvar lay sprawled, clutching his punctured bag.
Sir Cedric wiped his blade. "It'll return. Not to guard... but to hunt."
The next morning, sunlight had yet to filter through the trees, but all three were already up. No one had the appetite for more sleep. The fire had burned low, leaving a ring of pale ash.
Sir Cedric meticulously cleaned his sword, each motion slow and purposeful, as if the act brought clarity. Karl sat silently on a rock, eyes locked on the forest line where the creature had vanished.
Molvar, meanwhile, munched on a dry biscuit."See? I said we shouldn't camp near the woods. Every good dream gets ruined by some bony freak…"
Sir Cedric chuckled softly and looked up."We were lucky. It didn't call for others. But from now on, we don't camp too long in one spot. Especially not at night."
Karl nodded. "I have a feeling it'll return."
"Possibly not alone," Cedric added. "They usually hunt in pairs. Sometimes packs. Something might've held it back last night."
Molvar swallowed his last bite. "Then let's move. Before it changes its mind."
They packed quickly. None of them wanted to linger in the cursed woods. Morning light offered little comfort — not enough to erase the chill that still clung to their bones.
Their journey continued, and for the first time since leaving Solmere, not a single joke passed between them. Not a single dream dared to form.
Because they now understood — the line between traveler and prey was thinner than a whisper in the dark.
As the sun climbed higher and cast warm light on the rocky trail, the tension from the previous night began to fade, though a subtle unease still lingered in the air.
Molvar was the first to speak."Are we sure we're going the right way? These trees look exactly like yesterday's trees."
Sir Cedric frowned, pulling out a folded map from his cloak. "We're on track. If we keep heading northeast, we should reach the Troen River by late afternoon. That means we're near Ash Hill."
Karl asked, "And after that? Any outposts or villages?"
Cedric shook his head. "Nothing but stone, ash, and wind. It's a land no one dares build on. Which is exactly why the demons choose it."
Molvar shuddered. "Lovely."
Karl stared into the horizon, where hills blurred in the heat. "Either way, we can't turn back now."
Sir Cedric nodded, his eyes steady. "Then let's keep moving. Let's finish this before it begins again."