Fang ran toward it, barefoot over rock and dirt. He emerged from the cave and saw Smoke wrapped around something tall, holding it midair.
Fang slowed as he recognized the figure.
Elf. Light armor. Long blade on the ground.
Still breathing.
Isgram limped out after him, squinting.
"…That's Fenel Dirthil," he said. " he is an Elven tracker, Hawk Division."
Fang felt anxious, but he signed with his hand for Smoke to just restrain him.
"If he's here, someone paid well. The guild doesn't send their trackers for nothing."
Fang walked over, eyes on the elf. "Smoke, drop him."
Smoke released his grip.
Fenel hit the ground, coughing. He reached for the knife, but Fang kicked it away before he could catch his breath.
"Who sent you?" Fang asked.
Fenel glared. "Kill me if you want."
Fang didn't flinch. "Not yet."
Isgram stepped up. "You're not here by accident. Who gave the order?"
No answer.
Smoke growled, low and steady. Fenel glanced back. Fear showed now.
Isgram looked at Smoke, then at Fang. "You've got more than a helper here. That thing is trained well, very Sharp instincts."
Fang nodded with pride. "I know."
He turned back to Fenel. "Tell me what I need to know, or Smoke takes your legs."
Fenel hesitated.
The silence stretched.
Fang waited.
The forest around them was thick. Tall trees blocked out most of the sky, their branches high above like wooden walls. The wind moved through the leaves, quiet but steady.
The only light that passed through was the dark blue moonlight.
Fang raised his hand, but then a sound ripped through the night.
Thwip. Thwip.
Two arrows flew fast from the dark. One hit the rock behind Isgram. The other scraped Fang's shoulder, cutting his shirt and skin.
Fang dropped low and pulled Isgram down with him behind a large root.
"Archers," Fang said, eyes scanning the trees.
Isgram grunted. "mercenaries. That bounty hunter wasn't alone."
They stayed still for a second. The forest went eerily quiet.
No footsteps.
No talking.
Just wind.
Smoke disappeared again, moving fast and silently.
A third arrow hit the dirt next to Isgram's boot.
"We can't stay here," Fang said.
"No," Isgram agreed. "We move now."
Fang yanked Isgram by the arm. "Back inside," he said.
They moved fast, keeping low, using the thick roots and bushes for cover. Another arrow hit the tree just behind them as they slipped into the cave.
Inside, it was dark and quiet again. Fang kept his back to the wall, breathing hard. Isgram leaned against a rock, wincing from the effort.
"Damn elves," Isgram muttered. "Never miss a chance to shoot first."
Fang looked around. "Where's Smoke?"
They both paused. The little creature was gone.
Neither of them had seen him leave.
"Great," Isgram grumbled. "Either your rabbit ran off... or he's hunting again."
Fang didn't answer. He stared out toward the trees.
Something told him the forest would be loud tonight.
The shouts from outside grew louder as the bounty hunters closed in. Fang could hear the sounds of their boots stomping on the forest floor, and his heartbeat accelerated.
'Am I really going to kill someone? This is too much. Can I really do it? This is messed up. There is a difference between hunting and killing!'
Isgram stood ready, facing the entrance of the cave.
He didn't move, his eyes locked on the opening. "Get ready," he said quietly. "We'll trap the first one who comes in."
Fang nodded, gripping the knife tightly. He didn't know what Isgram's fire magic could do exactly, but he trusted the dwarf had something dangerous in mind. He glanced toward the cave's shadows, mentally preparing for his next move.
A few moments later, the sound of footsteps sounded near the entrance. Fang's arms tensed, anticipating what was coming.
The first figure stepped into view.
An elf. Tall and lean, wearing dark leather armor with a bow slung over his back.
Fenel Dirthil
Fang stayed still, waiting.
"Now," Isgram said, his voice low.
Without another word, Isgram raised his hands. Fire shot from his palms, forming a thick wall of flames that quickly filled the entrance of the cave, blocking it completely. The flames burned bright, crackling and hot, but Isgram seemed unaffected.
Fenel paused, hesitating at the sight of the flames. But it was too late for him to back out. He'd walked right into their trap.
Fang's focus shifted immediately. He reached into the shadows around him and concentrated on the power inside. His hand glowed with purple mana, and tendrils of black magic snaked out from the ground, slithering toward Fenel.
The tendrils advanced along the floor of the cave, moving toward Fenel's feet. The moment they made contact with him, they snaked upward on his body. Fang focused, feeling the drain of energy as the tendrils began to drain Fenel's mana, killing his body in the process.
Fenel screamed and staggered back, but the tendrils held tight, crawling up his legs, wrapping around his torso. He struggled, but they were not going to let go till the last of his strength fed their hunger.
Fang's face remained neutral, his concentration intense. The tendrils worked quickly, draining Fenel of his strength.
Inside the cave, the only movement made was by the fire wall that continuously singed the cave's entrance.
Isgram was wide-eyed as he understood the nature of Fang's magic.
'This... This is the magic of the demon kind. But they went extinct?'
Isgram watched in stunned silence, his expression darkening as the realization hit him.
"A necromancer," Isgram muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "Never thought there were non-demons who wielded death magic."
Fang didn't respond. His eyes were locked on Fenel, watching the elf's struggles slow, feeling the draining magic consume him. The shadows around them seemed to thicken, creeping along the cave floor like sentient creatures.
Fang's hand trembled slightly, but his focus remained unshaken. This wasn't just a fight for survival anymore. It was a reminder of the power he wielded, the power that both terrified and empowered him.
'This feeling... This is real power.'
Fang grinned as he was on the brink of killing the elf in front of him, but a shout was heard instead.
"Enough! This is torture!" Isgram's loud voice woke Fang from his power trip, and Fang let go of the man in front of him seconds before killing him.
Fenel dropped hard to the ground, his body mimicking a sack of potatoes.
Fenel's body grew limp, his head lolling to one side as his breath slowed to a faint wheeze. His eyes had lost their spark of defiance, replaced with fear and desperation.
Fang finally spoke, his voice low and chilling. "I'm not going to kill you... yet."
Fenel's lips trembled as he tried to speak, but no words came out. He had nothing left. His body was exhausted, drained of everything that made him dangerous.
Isgram took a cautious step forward, eyeing the elf with a mixture of disgust and curiosity. "What now?"
Fang didn't look at Isgram. Instead, he walked over to Fenel, crouching down next to the incapacitated bounty hunter. His eyes narrowed, scanning the elf's face. "Now, you tell me everything. Who sent you? Why are you here?"
Fenel's gaze flickered toward him, weak and fearful, but he said nothing. He simply stared, broken, waiting for whatever fate Fang had in store for him.
Fang's hand twitched again, the tendrils of darkness stirring slightly in the corners of his vision. But this time, he didn't call them forth. He just waited.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, Fenel's lips parted, barely a whisper escaping. "The Guild... they want you dead. Too dangerous, they said. A weapon to be destroyed."
Fang's eyes darkened. "The Guild... Why me?"
Fenel's eyes closed, and he exhaled deeply, barely able to hold onto his consciousness. "Because you're more than they bargained for... They never expected this... this power."
Isgram's brow furrowed. "More than they bargained for... What does that mean?"
Fang's grip on Fenel's neck tightened just enough to make the elf feel the pressure, but not enough to finish him.
The cave was silent except for Fenel's ragged breathing and the crackle of the firewall. Fang leaned in, his voice cold.
Fenel's eyelids fluttered, his head still hanging loosely.
"They're after the reward. The Guild... they're a business.
They take contracts to eliminate people, anyone who's a threat.
And… your bounty is very fat."
Fang tilted his head, a sick grin crossing his face as his thoughts boiled over. "You were actually willing to throw away your life for a couple of coins?"
Isgram, who had been silently observing, frowned deeply, his mind working through the details. His eyes narrowed as he recalled the time he had spent in the Elven Empire.
"Greed is a known disease, but this is suicide. Even the nobles won't take on such requests."
Isgram's voice was grim, as he heard his fair share of stories that involve chosen ones decimating entire armies.
Fang turned to look at Isgram, and he questioned him with a look.
Isgram sighed, and his brows furrowed.
"They've been operating like this for years.
I've seen how they operate firsthand when I was in the Empire.
They're a neutral faction that does whatever it takes for the right price."
Isgram's mind flashed back to his time in the Elven Empire, the shadowy dealings in hidden chambers, the whispers of money changing hands.
Fang let out a low, deep sigh, his eyes switching to Fenel.
The elf looked like he was on the verge of passing out, but Fang wasn't finished with him yet.
Fenel's lips trembled as he weakly nodded, unable to speak further. The truth was out now, and it left a bitter taste in Fang's mouth.
"Last chance," Fang said quietly, his voice cold. "Who else is coming for us?"
Fenel's breath was shallow, but he managed to whisper, "They'll send more... They won't stop until you're dead. There's no end to it. They'll keep coming. And they'll send anyone who can get the job done."
Isgram clenched his fists, a growing anger in his chest. "Then they'll regret it. We're not backing down. If they want to play this game, we'll end it their way."
Fang let the silence settle in the cave for a moment, his eyes still on Fenel. Then, with a swift motion, he lifted his hand, letting the tendrils of darkness retreat, pulling back the last of the energy that had been draining from Fenel's body.
"You're lucky," Fang said, his voice quiet and cold. "You live for now. But next time, I won't hold back. You will stay crippled for the rest of your life.
If you one day manage to raise another sword on an innocent, I will make sure to find you. Send this message to the two bastards outside, too."
Isgram, still simmering with anger, watched Fang's every move. He knew the danger of underestimating someone like Fang, but he also understood that the Guild wasn't going to back off. The contract would only get harder to ignore.
"Get out of here, before we change our minds," Isgram snapped and lowered the Flamewall.
Fenel, barely able to stand, crawled to the cave entrance. He paused just before exiting, casting a quick look over his shoulder. His eyes were hollow, and his lips trembled, but no words came out.
He stumbled into the night, leaving Fang and Isgram alone once again.
"Well," Isgram muttered, "at least we know what we're up against now."
Fang didn't answer. His mind was already working, planning the next move.
"That we do," Fang finally said, a grim smile creeping across his face. "Fuckers."
Isgram watched Fang, sensing the darkness in him, the dangerous potential he barely held in check. The fire in his chest simmered down, but the warning was clear.
"Don't let it consume you, Fang," Isgram warned, his voice low. "They're just doing this for gold. But if you let that kind of hunger control you, you'll lose control very fast."
Fang's eyes flickered to Isgram, his smile vanishing. "You asked about my plan, right?"
Isgram nodded with hidden curiosity.
Fang looked at him with a sane look on his face, one that was absent for the last couple of minutes.
"I plan to gather here as many of us as I can. If we want to survive here, we need more firepower.
Maybe even some who aren't us but can be allied with us. I am sure this elven kingdom won't let anyone ally with me unless we hold a significant amount of firepower, one that can strike fear into their hearts."
Isgram looked at Fang for a long moment, his gaze steady, filled with a mix of concern and disbelief. He had listened to Fang's plan, heard the fire in his words, but the gravity of what Fang was suggesting hit him like a cold wave.
"The King and the entire kingdom of Eldranor are not weaklings," Isgram said, his voice heavy with the weight of reality. "You're talking about facing an empire with 100,000 soldiers at its disposal. And that's not counting the wizards, magic specialists, and warriors they've got hiding in the shadows.
This isn't a band of mercenaries or a few rogue hunters we're dealing with. The elves are an entire race, and their strength is unmatched by any of the factions in this land. Only the humans have a shot here, but their king has disappeared long ago and is yet to be replaced."
Fang's face remained hard, eyes fixed forward, as if considering Isgram's words carefully.
"You don't get it, do you?" Isgram continued, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "You're thinking that power can be measured just by numbers, by magic, by pure force.
But they have something we don't.
Experience. Resources. A thousand years of history, politics, and control over everything that happens in their land. They've survived countless wars, all kinds of challenges, and they've only gotten stronger with each one."
Fang let out a low, sharp breath, turning his head slightly to meet Isgram's gaze.
"You think I don't know that?" he said, the hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "It will be impossible to win, but I didn't come back from the dead to run away from a fight."
Isgram shook his head, his expression softening slightly. "If we're going to survive this, Fang, we need to be smarter. We need to fight on our terms. And that means we need more than just raw power. We need a strategy. We need a plan that gives us an edge. But that's not something you can do alone."
Fang looked down at his hands, the darkness inside him swirling, feeding on his growing frustration and anger. He knew Isgram was right. By taking a deep breath, he managed to silence the powerful mana coursing in his blood
"So what do we do, then?" Fang asked, his voice quieter now.
"We start small," Isgram replied. "We find those who can stand with us. And then we figure out a way to deal with Eldranor, carefully and strategically. We take what they're not expecting to lose. We give them something they can't ignore."
Fang didn't respond immediately. The weight of what Isgram was saying was starting to make sense. As much as the idea of standing and fighting head-on called to him, Isgram's words about strategy felt more and more like the only way they could survive this.
"Alright," Fang finally muttered, his voice dark. "We'll take it slow."
A small headache started to dawn on Fang, and he sat down in front of Isgram.
'Damn, I need a hot shower right now.'
Isgram gave a sharp nod, his eyes cold and resolute. "We need to go to sleep."