Nightfall crept in slowly, swallowing what little light remained beneath the towering trees.
And with it… the mist arrived.
Thin at first, just wisps drifting along the ground.
But within minutes, it thickened—curling around tree trunks, crawling over roots, rising until it veiled the entire forest in a pale, ghostly shroud.
I'd never seen anything like it.
"Why does mist just… form at night?" I asked quietly, scanning the shifting fog.
Sullivan, walking beside the caravan, exhaled heavily.
"Nobody truly knows. They say this forest used to be ordinary—until a dark jaki user cursed it long ago. Twisted it. Corrupted everything living here."
I looked deeper into the fog.
Shapes blurred. Shadows stretched.
The air felt heavier… almost hungry.
"Some say strange monsters live here now," Sullivan added.
"Things warped by the curse. People avoid this road at all cost… but the main path is blocked. So this is our only way through."
The guards tightened their grips on their shields and spears.
Elise closed the caravan window, fear flickering across her face.
Rustles echoed from all directions.
Twigs snapped.
Leaves trembled.
Everyone except me was on edge—breathing quick, eyes darting, bodies tensed.
I simply placed my hand on my sword.
Because among the sounds…
something else stirred.
Something darker.
Heavier.
Bloodlust.
Barely there at first…
but unmistakable.
My fingers curled around my hilt.
"I sense bloodlust," I whispered.
"Be on alert."
The words had barely left my mouth—
—when a dagger cut through the mist.
I reacted instantly, swinging my blade up with a sharp clang.
Metal rang through the forest, echoing like a warning bell.
The dagger dropped at my feet.
A strange black liquid coated the blade.
Poison.
"Not a monster," I growled.
"An assassin."
A soft, mocking laugh drifted from the fog—
and then a figure burst out, sprinting straight at me with inhuman speed.
I moved faster.
His blade sliced past my cheek, missing by inches.
I ducked under his second strike and slammed my fist into his stomach.
The air exploded with a THUD as his body crashed into the ground, skidding across the dirt.
He tried to rise, but I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him upright.
"Who sent you?" I demanded.
The assassin's lips curled into a twisted grin.
"I'm not going to tell you."
He spat at me.
Hot anger flared through my chest.
I tightened my grip.
"If you don't talk—"
But before I could finish, the assassin's body began to convulse.
His eyes rolled back.
White foam spilled from his mouth.
"Poison," I muttered, shoving him away as he collapsed lifelessly onto the dirt.
"Tch. Smart play."
A self-kill pill.
He chose death over talking.
I turned toward Sullivan, who peeked from behind one of the guards.
"Do you know who could be after you, Mr. Black?"
Sullivan swallowed hard.
"Many people could be," he admitted.
"The wine trade has enemies. Rival merchants… corrupt nobles… the underworld. I—I truly can't say who would hire an assassin."
I looked down at the corpse.
Professional.
Prepared.
Silent.
Not a monster.
A man.
And something told me he wouldn't be the last.
I sighed.
"Let's keep moving. Stay sharp."
The guards nodded, forming a two man–circle around the caravan.
The mist thickened.
The forest grew silent again.
But now…
every shadow seemed to watch us.
We pressed forward—
and thankfully,
no more assassins came for us that night.