Charlie tore another strip from his already shredded shirt and knelt beside me.
His movements were quick but careful, hands steady despite the blood staining his fingers. He wrapped the cloth tightly around my wounded leg first, then reinforced the bandage on my arm, knotting it firmly enough to slow the bleeding without cutting off circulation.
I hissed through my teeth as the fabric pressed against raw pain.
"Hold still, Young Master," Charlie murmured. "You've already lost too much blood."
I nodded weakly, forcing myself not to pull away.
"…Thank you, Charlie," I said quietly.
He didn't reply—just gave a small nod before rising to his feet.
Ahead of us, Rokar and Vaela had already begun moving. But unlike before, their pace was slower. Measured. They kept glancing back, adjusting their steps to match ours.
I noticed it almost immediately.
Rokar and Vaela—who had moved through the forest earlier with effortless speed—had slowed their pace. Their steps were shorter now, more measured, carefully matched to ours. They no longer surged ahead like predators roaming their territory. Instead, they kept glancing back, adjusting their stride without a word.
Part of me felt a flicker of relief.
If they had kept their original pace, Charlie and I wouldn't have lasted five minutes. My injured leg throbbed with every step, pain blooming hot and sharp, while my wounded arm felt stiff and heavy, as if it no longer truly belonged to me.
But that relief was quickly drowned by something bitter.
Frustration.
I hated it.
Hated that they had to slow down because of me.
Hated that my body was the weakest thing here.
Hated the way each careful step felt like proof of how helpless I was.
I clenched my jaw and forced myself to keep moving, even as pain screamed through my nerves.
I didn't want to be protected.
I didn't want to be a burden.
Yet every uneven step reminded me of the truth—
Right now, I had no choice but to accept it.
My leg buckled slightly, and Charlie caught my arm before I could fall.
"Easy," he said under his breath. "Don't force it."
I clenched my jaw and nodded.
We followed Rokar and Vaela through the forest, limping just behind them. The Silent Forest still felt hostile—too quiet, too aware—but the way they moved through it was different.
Confident.
Purposeful.
They avoided certain paths without hesitation, cut wide around areas that looked harmless to me, and slowed whenever the forest felt… wrong.
It was like they knew the map of this place by heart.
Whenever a distant growl echoed or branches shifted unnaturally, they stopped instantly. Sometimes they crouched. Sometimes they changed direction entirely.
And every time, the danger passed.
After a while, I realized something unsettling.
If Charlie and I had been alone…
We wouldn't have survived this long at night.
A low sound echoed through the forest ahead.
Not loud.
But sharp enough to freeze us in place.
Rokar raised a fist.
We stopped.
Slowly, silently, we moved off the path. Charlie guided me behind a thick cluster of roots while Rokar and Vaela vanished behind a massive tree ahead.
I held my breath.
From between the trunks, I saw it.
A fox-like creature stepped into view.
It was about my height, its body lean and angular, fur dark with streaks of silver running along its spine. Its eyes glowed faintly, too intelligent, too alert. Each step was cautious, deliberate.
My stomach tightened the moment I saw it.
That thing was fast and dangerous.
Even standing still, it radiated danger—its fox-like body coiled low to the ground, ears twitching as it tasted the air, eyes glowing faintly with a predatory intelligence that sent a chill down my spine.
If it noticed us first…
I didn't want to imagine what would happen.
Rokar and Vaela didn't move.
Not a flinch.
Not a breath out of place.
They melted into the forest as if they were part of it.
Vaela raised her bow with terrifying smoothness.
There was no sound—no creak of wood, no scrape of string against leather. Her movements were so controlled it felt unreal, like watching a shadow take shape.
Her eyes narrowed, pupils locking onto the fox monster's vitals.
The forest seemed to pause.
Then—
The arrow flew.
It cut through the air in absolute silence, a dark blur guided by perfect intent, and buried itself deep into the creature's torso with a dull, meaty thud.
It struck the creature's torso—but didn't pierce deep enough.
The fox let out a shrill, piercing screech as pain ripped through its body. It twisted violently, claws tearing at the forest floor as instinct screamed at it to flee. Leaves scattered beneath its frantic movements, dirt spraying as it tried to bolt between the trees.
Vaela didn't hesitate.
Her expression didn't change.
Her breath didn't quicken.
Another arrow flew—clean, ruthless.
Then another.
Three shots in rapid succession, each loosed with mechanical precision. The arrows thudded into flesh one after another, their impacts dull and final.
One buried itself deep in the creature's flank. Another punched through its shoulder. The last struck lower, shredding muscle and stealing its balance.
The fox staggered, legs buckling beneath it. Its escape turned into a desperate, uneven stumble.
And then— Rokar moved.
He burst from behind the tree like a released beast, the ground cracking softly beneath his feet. His muscles bulged unnaturally as power surged through his frame, veins standing out as he launched himself forward. The spear in his hands was held low and unwavering, its tip aligned with brutal intent.
No wasted motion. No hesitation. The thrust was clean. Precise.
The spear drove straight through the creature's chest, punching through fur, muscle, and bone in a single, decisive strike. The fox convulsed violently, body arching as a broken cry tore from its throat.
Once. Twice.
Then it collapsed, lifeless weight crashing into the earth.
Silence returned.
I stared.
Charlie stared.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
The fox's lifeless body lay crumpled on the forest floor, its once-sharp eyes dull, its muscles slack in death. The faint metallic scent of blood mixed with the damp earth, and steam rose subtly from the wound where Rokar's spear had struck true.
My chest felt tight.
I had seen monsters before—heard them, run from them, nearly died to them—but this was different. This wasn't chaos or desperation. This was execution. Clean. Efficient. Merciless.
Vaela calmly stepped forward and retrieved her arrows, checking each one before sliding them back into her quiver. Rokar wrenched his spear free and lifted the carcass with ease, tying it securely across his back.
I couldn't look away.
In just a few breaths, the fight had ended.
I swallowed hard, the reality sinking in at last.
If Charlie and I had faced that creature alone…
We wouldn't have stood a chance.
And standing there, watching Rokar and Vaela move with such practiced calm, I realized something that sent a chill through my spine—
We weren't just following them through the Silent Forest.
We were walking behind people who truly belonged here.
Rokar glanced back at us. "Skra-go." (Let's go.)
We resumed walking. Pain flared with every step, but I forced myself forward.
After a while, I whispered, "Charlie… why do you think they're taking us to their village?"
He didn't answer.
His gaze was fixed ahead—on Rokar and Vaela—eyes sharp, expression unreadable.
"Charlie?" I tried again.
Nothing.
I nudged him lightly. "Charlie."
He blinked, as if pulled from deep thought. "Huh? Yes, Young Master?"
I winced as I walked. "You looked like you were thinking about something serious. I asked… why are they taking us to their village?"
Charlie exhaled slowly.
"I'm not certain," he said. "But from the conversation between Rokar and that Elder… it sounded like she believes we're important figures from some prophecy or vision."
I frowned. "Our lives are already a mess. We don't even know if we'll survive tomorrow. How are we important?"
Charlie shook his head. "I don't know. But we'll find out once we reach their village."
We kept walking.
Minutes blurred into one another, marked only by the steady rhythm of our footsteps and the dull throb of pain that refused to fade.
The forest never changed—endless trees, tangled roots, shadows layered upon shadows—but my body did. Every step grew heavier. Every breath burned a little more.
Time slipped by unnoticed.
An hour.
Then another.
By the time my legs began to tremble uncontrollably and my injured arm felt numb rather than painful, I realized how long we had been moving.
At least four hours had passed.
In that time, they guided us through the forest without triggering a single major conflict.
Whenever danger appeared, they handled it swiftly—sometimes avoiding it entirely, sometimes eliminating it with terrifying efficiency.
Their coordination was flawless. Experienced.
As if this forest was their home.
My legs trembled from exhaustion.
I whispered, "Charlie… how much longer?"
Before he could answer, Vaela glanced back.
"Skra-close." (Almost there.)
She added, more bluntly, "You slow. Skra-reach long back." (If you weren't injured, we'd have arrived much earlier.)
I managed a tired nod.
After what felt like another hour, Rokar stopped.
"Skra-here." (We're here.)
I scanned our surroundings—slowly.
Nothing stood out. Just the forest, stretching endlessly in every direction
Then—
The air in front of us rippled. A transparent barrier shimmered into existence, peeling open like a curtain.
My breath caught.
A hidden path revealed itself beyond the shield.
I stared, stunned.
A village… hidden inside the Silent Forest.
And somehow—
We were being invited in.