In the middle of the forest, engulfed by the night mist, two figures moved along a narrow path that was barely visible. Thick clouds hung low, leaving only the pale moonlight, broken by the dense foliage.
Raven's steps were light and measured.
Ahead of him, the large bandit limped along. His hand, missing several fingers, was wrapped in coarse cloth that had turned black with blood, still dripping with every step he took. His breathing was heavy and irregular due to the loss of blood, but he forced himself to keep walking.
"Can we rest... I'm a little—"
A soft hiss cut him off.
Raven's sword rose slightly, enough to serve as a warning.
"Keep walking," he said flatly.
"I don't like to say things twice."
The bandit swallowed hard. "O-okay..." He resumed walking, his knees nearly buckling each time a branch snapped beneath his feet.
The night air was humid, the smell of wet earth mingling with the scent of blood that clung to their clothes. Owls screeched in the distance, followed by the howling of wolves echoing through the trees.
The fog slowly thinned as they reached higher ground. In the distance, the silhouette of a large wall began to appear, made of thick wooden beams arranged vertically, tied together with rope and rusty metal. At the top, torches burned, spreading an orange glow in the darkness of the night.
"That's our headquarters..." said the bandit with a trembling voice, pointing towards the hilltop plateau that was heavily guarded.
Raven stared at him expressionlessly. From their position, he could see the guards on top of the wooden wall, some holding spears, others bows. The sound of rough laughter and clashing metal could be heard faintly, mixed with the smell of grilled meat and wet wood smoke.
"How many are inside?" Raven asked softly.
"Maybe... more than thirty..."
Raven did not respond. His eyes scanned every crack in the wooden fence, every movement of shadows behind the torches. The night wind carried the scent of dried blood and burnt charcoal, a scent that was all too familiar to him.
"Take me inside," he said coldly.
"Eh, but—" before the bandit could finish his sentence.
Sret!
The tip of Raven's sword pressed against his neck, causing a trickle of fresh blood to flow.
"Just do it," Raven said flatly.
There was no pressure in his voice, but that was what made it even more terrifying.
The bandit trembled violently. His jaw shook, his breath came in short gasps. He nodded quickly, afraid that even the slightest wrong move would cause his head to be separated from his body.
Raven gave him a light push with the tip of his sword.
"Walk."
They began to move.
The bandit's steps were stiff, as if each footfall was on the edge of a cliff. Raven walked half a step behind him, close enough to ensure that the blade of his sword was always within deadly range of the back of his neck.
A thin fog covered the hillside. In the distance, the large gate of the headquarters loomed, made of thick wooden beams arranged vertically and reinforced with rough iron. Above it, two low watchtowers stood with dimly lit torches, their light swaying in the night breeze.
The sound of their footsteps on the rocky ground was clearly audible in the silence.
Getting closer.
The silhouettes of two guards appeared in front of the gate. Both wore rough leather clothing, weapons hanging at their waists. One held a torch, its small flame flickering in the wind.
"Hey! Who goes there?" shouted the first guard, raising his torch and shining it toward the forest in front of them.
The orange light swept across the tree trunks, piercing the thin fog and catching two shadows slowly emerging from the darkness.
The first figure stepped out from behind the trees. His face became clear as the torchlight touched him. Behind him, half a step further back, Raven stood silently, almost blending into the shadows.
The bandit in front forced a smile. His lips were pale and stiff.
"H-hey... it's me."
The other guard narrowed his eyes. "You... aren't you one of the tracking team? Why are you here? And where are the others?"
"Ah... that..." The bandit fell silent, his tongue tied. But in his head, Raven's cold voice echoed, composing an alibi for him in a tone almost like a devil's whisper.
"Just say you're bringing in a new prisoner. Understand my position, or I'll rip out your tongue."
The bandit swallowed hard, then continued haltingly, "I'm back... with a prisoner. This guy tried to fight back when we were chasing him, but we managed to subdue him."
"A prisoner?" asked the first guard, frowning.
"Is it a woman?
"No. It's a man. But he seems to be quite useful."
"Hehe, well... only he was caught. But by the way, what did you mean earlier about 'women'? Did you guys get any female prisoners too?"
"Ah, so you don't know yet," replied the guard with a chuckle. "While you guys were out, some people were ordered to check the wreckage of the train in the ravine. And it turns out... someone survived."
"Survived?" The bandit swallowed hard.
"A woman?"
"That's right. She was pretty cute, too," he replied with a grin.
"Some of us had a go with her before she was sold to a passing merchant. Too bad... most of us took turns. So she got a little damaged," said the guard with a dirty laugh, followed by his friend's crude laughter.
"Well, no wonder she broke down quickly," replied another.
The bandit who was with Raven began to tremble. He glanced behind him, afraid of Raven's reaction after hearing that. But Raven remained silent, his gaze cold, his face expressionless, as if he didn't care.
Only his breathing changed slightly.
The bandit almost felt relieved.
"Hey!" One of the guards suddenly ducked.
"Why is there blood behind you?!"
Red drops from the bandit's hand wet the ground beneath their feet.
The guard's eyes widened when he saw the fresh bloodstain on the ground where the bandit was standing in front of Raven. Both guards immediately tensed up, ready to draw their weapons.
But they were too late.
Swoosh!
A small axe slid out from behind Raven's clothes, spinning rapidly in the air, sticking right into the forehead of the first guard.
The bandit hadn't even fallen yet when Raven moved.
One step forward.
He grabbed the sword that had been entrusted to the bandit in front of him and swung it without hesitation. The blade pierced the second guard's chest. Blood spurted, splattering the wooden gate behind them.
The body staggered, then collapsed slowly between the swaying shadows of the torches.
Raven stood silently in front of the two still-warm corpses. The night wind blew softly, carrying the sharp scent of iron. His gaze remained calm, as if everything that had just happened was only the first step of something much bigger to come.