The forest at night felt different.
Not just because the darkness was thicker, or because the sounds of insects had grown scarce—
but because something was missing.
Life.
Footsteps pressed into the damp ground, soft yet steady.
Four men walked ahead in formation, their eyes constantly scanning the darkness between the trees. Behind them—slightly lagging but doing his best to keep up—a man followed, his breathing heavy.
Harlan.
His hand gripped tightly onto a small bag filled with glass vials that clinked softly with each step. Cold sweat dampened his temples—not just from exhaustion—
but from fear.
"...Cecilia..."
The name slipped weakly from his lips.
His steps faltered for a moment.
But he forced himself forward again.
Up ahead, one of the men suddenly stopped, raising a hand in signal. The others slowed instantly, their instincts moving without the need for words.
The man glanced back slightly.
"Don't fall too far behind, Harlan."
His voice was low, firm.
His name was Rhett.
Tall, well-built without excess bulk, with a faint scar beneath his left eye—a remnant of a past that never truly left him. He had once been a mid-ranked adventurer before choosing to settle in the village.
Beside him—
Bram.
Bigger, heavier, with a large axe strapped to his back. A former imperial soldier who retired early after being injured in battle. His face was stern, but his eyes were sharp—always alert.
To the right—
Kael.
The youngest among them, yet the lightest on his feet. A hunter who had grown up in the forest. His eyes were quick, restless, always searching for things others couldn't see.
And lastly—
Darian.
The quiet one.
A sword hung at his waist, but his left hand never strayed far from its hilt. A former border knight. His experience made him observe more than he spoke.
The four of them—
were no ordinary men.
And tonight—
even they felt uneasy.
Harlan quickened his pace, closing the distance.
"I-I won't fall behind..." he said, still short of breath.
Bram clicked his tongue softly.
"You should've stayed in the village."
His tone wasn't harsh—
but it was clear.
Harlan shook his head immediately.
"No! I can't just wait!"
His voice rose slightly—then quickly dropped, aware of the atmosphere.
"It's... Cecilia... she's my daughter..."
His hands clenched.
"...and Lilya... she's like a daughter to me too..."
Silence fell for a moment.
Their steps continued.
But something in the air shifted.
Kael glanced back at Harlan briefly.
"You're not a fighter."
"If something happens—we won't always be able to protect you."
This time, it was Darian who spoke.
Flat.
Factual.
Harlan lowered his head briefly.
But—
he didn't stop.
"I know..."
His grip tightened on his bag.
"I know I'm weak."
He took a deep breath.
"...but I won't be a burden."
Rhett glanced back slightly.
One brow lifted.
Harlan quickly opened his bag with one hand, showing what was inside.
Small bottles.
Various colors.
Red.
Green.
Blue.
"Healing potions... anti-venom... stamina enhancers..."
His voice still trembled—
but now there was conviction in it.
"I made all of these."
He sped up, now nearly walking beside them.
"I know this forest... I know which plants are dangerous... I can help keep you alive longer."
He swallowed.
"...and I swear—"
His gaze lifted.
Full of determination.
"—I won't slow you down."
Silence.
Their footsteps continued.
The night wind drifted softly through the trees.
Rhett finally exhaled.
"...you're stubborn."
But the corner of his lips twitched slightly.
Bram grumbled, but said nothing more.
Kael shrugged.
"As long as you can run when we tell you to."
Darian—
said nothing.
But he no longer objected.
And that—
was enough.
Harlan lowered his head slightly.
"...thank you..."
His voice was barely audible.
Their steps continued.
No one spoke for a while.
Only the sound of boots pressing into damp earth, the occasional snap of twigs, and Harlan's still-heavy breathing.
Too much time had passed.
They all knew it.
This search—
had started in the late afternoon.
It began at the hill.
The usual place.
The place where Cecilia and Lilya always gathered herbs.
A place that should have been safe.
Should have been.
The memory surfaced again in Harlan's mind.
The hill, with tall grass swaying gently in the late afternoon wind. The scent of medicinal plants in the air. The familiar path they walked every day.
But when they arrived—
no one was there.
Only neatly harvested herbs remained.
"They made it here..." Kael had muttered back then, crouching as he examined a cut stem.
"The cuts are clean. That's Lilya's work," Harlan had added.
Kael had nodded, then scanned the surroundings.
Bram pointed toward the lower slope.
"We haven't searched there yet."
They moved.
They searched.
Nothing.
As they followed the trail toward the forest, they found more harvested plants—neatly cut.
"Looks like Lilya kept gathering this far... but no signs of Cecilia," Rhett had said.
Harlan had remained silent.
He wondered the same thing.
Then—
the trail ended.
No more cut plants.
They had reached the forest's edge.
"They didn't go inside... right?" Kael had said, uncertain.
But—
no one denied it.
Rhett had spoken.
"We're going in."
And from that moment—
time grew heavier.
Hours had passed.
They moved deeper into the forest, through narrow paths rarely used even by hunters. The trees grew denser, moonlight barely slipping through the canopy, and the air—
grew colder.
Unnaturally so.
And yet—
they found nothing.
No signs of struggle.
No blood.
No trace of humans.
Only—
emptiness.
"...damn..." Bram muttered.
Suddenly—
Kael stopped.
His hand rose.
Signal.
Everyone froze.
Silence.
Kael crouched slowly, touching something on the ground.
"...this..."
Rhett approached.
His eyes narrowed.
A woven basket.
Damaged.
Part of it was crushed, the weave torn apart. Inside—herbs, dried and scattered, some completely crushed as if stepped on.
But—
the damage...
was unnatural.
Not from time.
Not from falling.
More like—
it had been trampled.
Deliberately.
Harlan rushed forward.
His steps unsteady.
Then—
he dropped to his knees.
His hands trembled as he picked it up.
"...no..."
His fingers brushed the familiar weave.
"...there's no mistake..."
His voice broke.
"...this is Cecilia's..."
Silence.
No one spoke.
No one knew what to say.
Harlan's face went pale.
His breathing grew erratic.
His eyes widened—
filled with fear he could no longer hide.
Meanwhile—
Kael kept examining the ground.
His eyes moved quickly.
Then—
he froze.
"...Rhett."
His tone changed.
Serious.
Rhett turned immediately.
"What is it?"
Kael didn't answer right away.
He just pointed.
Rhett stepped closer.
And saw them.
Footprints.
Small.
Many.
Irregular.
Too many toes.
Not human.
Not animal.
And—
there were a lot of them.
"...ten..." Rhett murmured.
He looked further.
"...no. More."
Bram stepped closer, his expression hardening.
"A group."
Kael nodded.
"At least ten... maybe more."
Darian remained silent.
But his hand now firmly gripped his sword.
"We need to find them fast," Bram said quietly.
Harlan slowly turned toward the tracks.
His eyes widened.
In an instant—
he understood.
"...goblins..."
The word barely escaped his lips.
But it was enough.
Suddenly—
he stood.
Abrupt.
Panicked.
He grabbed Rhett's shoulder, shaking him.
"Why are there goblins here?!"
His voice cracked.
"They're not supposed to come this close to the village, right?!"
His breathing was wild.
"Cecilia... Lilya... what if they—"
"Enough."
Rhett grabbed his shoulders.
Firm.
Steady.
Pulling him back.
"Don't panic."
His voice was strong.
Too strong.
"...they won't do anything unless they're commanded."
Harlan froze.
"...commanded?"
His voice weakened.
"...by who?"
Rhett paused.
Then shook his head.
"I don't know."
Honest.
And heavier because of it.
"...but we focus on finding them."
He looked at the others.
Bram nodded.
Kael nodded.
Darian—
was already moving.
Agreement without words.
Rhett looked back at Harlan.
"We move now."
Harlan swallowed.
His hands still trembling—
but he nodded.
"...yeah."
He tightened his grip on his bag.
And they moved.
Faster.
Deeper.
Following the tracks.
The forest grew quieter.
No animals.
No wind.
Only footsteps.
Then—
something changed.
Rhett slowed.
"...wait."
They stopped.
The air—
felt wrong.
Heavy.
Thick.
As if something invisible filled the space around them.
Harlan shivered.
"...this..."
Kael narrowed his eyes.
"...you feel it too?"
Bram said nothing.
But his hand moved to his axe.
Darian—
had already half-drawn his sword.
Rhett frowned.
"...what is this disgusting aura?"
He stared ahead.
"...is this magic?"
Silence.
No one answered.
But no one denied it.
Because they all—
felt it.
Not controlled.
Not natural.
Wild.
Unstable.
Wrong.
Then—
"GRAAAAAAAAAA—!!"
The roar exploded.
Horrifying.
Not quite beast.
Not quite monster.
Something forced out of a throat that couldn't contain it.
They all turned—
at once.
West.
And through the trees—
they saw it.
Light.
Red.
And—
blue.
Clashing.
Flashing.
Like something colliding in the darkness.
Like—
a battle.
Kael stared.
"...is that... an adventurer?"
"...are they fighting something?"
He looked at Rhett.
Waiting.
Harlan's heart pounded.
That uneasy feeling—
grew stronger.
Rhett stayed silent for a moment.
Then exhaled.
"...don't worry about it."
Flat.
Firm.
"Adventurers can handle themselves."
He looked at them.
"We're not here for that."
Silence.
Bram nodded.
Kael hesitated—
then nodded.
Darian remained ready.
Harlan looked one last time.
Uneasy.
But silent.
Because he knew—
there was only one priority.
Cecilia.
And Lilya.
"Move."
They continued.
Leaving the red and blue lights behind.
But—
the deeper they went—
that foul aura—
didn't fade.
It grew stronger.
As if its source—
was getting closer.
And without realizing it—
they were heading straight toward it.