Evening settled quietly over Shangri-La, the city bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. The group had returned from the corrupted forest exhausted but victorious. After a hearty meal and a few lighthearted exchanges, they retired to their quarters, finally allowing themselves a moment of peace.
The night was calm. The sound of crickets filled the air, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers through the open windows.
But for Shin, sleep was far from peaceful.
As he drifted into slumber, the world around him shifted. The warmth of Shangri-La faded, replaced by the cold, damp air of a dark forest. The moon hung low, its pale light barely piercing through the thick canopy above.
He was running—his breath ragged, his body aching. Beside him was a woman with long black hair cut in a Hime style, her face partly hidden by the shadows. Both of them were wounded, their clothes torn and stained with blood.
Behind them, the sound of metal clashing and guttural roars echoed through the woods. Undead Knights were in pursuit, their armor clanking as they closed in.
"Keep moving!" Shin shouted, his voice strained.
The woman stumbled but kept running. "We can't keep this up... we're both hurt."
Shin grabbed her hand, pulling her forward. "I'll protect you. No matter what happens."
She looked at him, her eyes filled with both sorrow and determination. "We need to get away... we have to avenge our fallen comrades."
They ducked into a patch of dark bushes, trying to catch their breath. The forest was eerily silent for a moment, save for the distant groans of the undead.
Then, a shadow loomed over them.
An Undead Monk, its skeletal frame wrapped in tattered robes, stepped into view. Its hollow eyes glowed faintly as it raised its staff.
Shin barely had time to react before the monk lunged. Exhausted and wounded, he swung his blade weakly, but the monk deflected it with ease. The impact sent Shin crashing to the ground.
The woman screamed his name, but before she could reach him, the monk seized her by the arm.
"Let her go!" Shin shouted, struggling to rise. His vision blurred, his strength fading.
The monk turned its hollow gaze toward him, then struck him across the head with its staff. The world spun, and everything went black.
The last thing Shin heard was the woman's voice fading into the distance.
Shin jolted awake, gasping for air. His body was drenched in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint light of the moon filtering through the window.
He sat up, breathing heavily, his mind racing. The dream had felt too real—every sound, every sensation vivid and sharp.
Across the room, Han stirred, rubbing his eyes. "Shin? What's wrong?"
Shin wiped the sweat from his brow, forcing a calm tone. "It's nothing. Just... a bad dream."
Han yawned, sitting up slightly. "You sure? You look like you just fought a war in your sleep."
Shin gave a faint smile. "I'm fine. We've got a long journey ahead tomorrow. Get some rest."
Han nodded, lying back down. "Alright... but don't scare me like that again."
As Han drifted back to sleep, Shin remained awake for a while, staring at the ceiling. The image of the woman with the Hime haircut lingered in his mind—the sound of her voice, the look in her eyes.
He didn't know who she was or why she appeared in his dreams, but something deep inside told him it wasn't just a dream.
It was a memory—one buried deep within his soul, waiting to resurface.
Shin clenched his fists, his gaze distant. "Who are you... and why do I keep seeing you?" he whispered to himself.
The moonlight glimmered faintly across his face as he lay back down, though sleep refused to return. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it a faint echo—soft, sorrowful, and familiar.
And somewhere beyond the veil of dreams, the woman's voice called out once more.
Morning came, the golden rays of dawn spilling through the windows of their quarters. The group gathered their gear and set out once more, their destination—the forest where they had last encountered the Undead Knight.
Crossing the river, the air grew colder, the mist thickening as they ventured deeper into the woods. The sound of rushing water faded behind them, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the distant calls of unseen creatures.
After some time, the road ahead split into three paths.
Isolde frowned, unfolding her map. "That's strange... this isn't on the map."
Han leaned over her shoulder. "You're right. It should be a straight path from here. No mention of a fork."
They exchanged uneasy glances.
Shin closed his eyes, trying to sense any trace of energy or presence in the area. But the forest was silent—too silent. "I can't sense anything," he muttered.
Isolde tried as well, her eyes glowing faintly with her sight ability. After a moment, she shook her head. "Nothing. It's like the forest itself is blocking us."
Sam looked around nervously. "These trees... they're huge."
Eva nodded. "High Elven trees. Their roots run deep, and their branches reach the heavens. Even magic has trouble passing through them."
Han sighed. "So what now? We just guess?"
Shin studied the three paths carefully. The left and right trails were shrouded in darkness, the air thick and heavy. The middle path, though narrow, was faintly illuminated by beams of sunlight breaking through the canopy.
He pointed forward. "We take the middle path. It's the only one that feels... alive."
Isolde shrugged. "Middle it is, then."
The group moved forward, their footsteps soft against the moss-covered ground. The deeper they went, the quieter it became. Even the wind seemed to vanish, leaving only the sound of their breathing.
Unbeknownst to them, a shadowy figure perched high among the branches of the Elven trees. Its eyes glowed a deep, menacing red, following their every move.
It tilted its head slightly, a low growl rumbling from its throat.
Hungry. Watching. Waiting.
As they journeyed further, the forest grew denser, the air colder. The faint light that guided them began to fade, replaced by a dim, eerie glow filtering through the mist.
Isolde, walking ahead, suddenly stopped. Her eyes widened as she spotted an old, weathered wooden sign half-buried in the moss. The letters were faded, but still legible:
"Welcome to Whispering Pines."
A chill ran down her spine. The name alone sent a wave of unease through her. She turned pale and immediately called out, "Shin! Come here, quick!"
Shin hurried over, his hand instinctively resting on his sword. "What's wrong?"
Isolde pointed at the sign, her voice trembling slightly. "This place... it's not on any map. I've heard stories about Whispering Pines. People who enter never come back."
The others gathered around, exchanging uneasy looks.
Shin studied the sign, then glanced at the dark forest ahead. "We've already come this far. But if you think it's dangerous, we can rest here for the night."
Isolde nodded quickly. "Yes. Let's camp here—just near the sign. We'll eat, rest, and continue tomorrow. I don't want to go any further in the dark."
Han agreed. "Makes sense. No point walking into a cursed forest half-asleep."
Sam sighed in relief. "Finally, someone said it."
They began setting up camp near the sign, the faint crackle of fire soon breaking the silence. The flames flickered softly, casting long shadows across the mossy ground.
During supper, as everyone was eating, Isolde looked up from her bowl and asked, "Are you familiar with the story of the Deity of the Forest named Maria?"
Everyone paused, exchanging confused glances. Even Han, who usually knew a bit of everything, shook his head. "Never heard of her. Who's that?"
Isolde leaned closer to the fire, her expression serious. "Then listen carefully."
She began her tale, her voice low and steady.
"There was once a small farming village near the mountains called Hoang Su Phi. It was protected by one of the Forest Gods—Maria. She was loved by everyone, and in return, she blessed them with abundance and prosperity. The lands flourished, the crops grew tall, and the people adored her."
Isolde's eyes reflected the firelight as she continued. "Maria was said to be breathtakingly beautiful—her hair styled in Greek Goddess braids, flowing like silk, with a fair complexion that glowed under the sun. Her beauty was beyond compare."
"Three men fell deeply in love with her," Isolde went on. "A soldier, a rich man, and a humble farmer. Each sought her heart, but Maria could only choose one. When the time came, she chose the farmer—kind, gentle, and pure of heart."
Sam smiled faintly. "A goddess and a farmer, huh? That's sweet."
Isolde's tone darkened. "It didn't stay sweet for long. The soldier and the rich man were furious. They left in anger. Days later, a fire broke out in the garrison. The farmer was framed for it... and hanged for treason."
Eva gasped softly, her hands tightening around her bowl.
"Maria was devastated," Isolde said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Her grief turned to rage. She cursed the land, her sorrow twisting her divine form. Her once radiant beauty became ghostly—pale, ethereal, her long hair flowing like mist. They say she wanders the forests at night, weeping by rivers, dressed in white."
Sam and Eva instinctively huddled closer together, their faces pale.
Isolde's gaze drifted toward the dark forest beyond the firelight. "And the legend says... the soldier and the rich man were cursed too. Trapped forever in these wastelands, doomed to wander until the end of time."
The fire crackled softly, the only sound breaking the heavy silence that followed.
Then, Han smirked mischievously. "Well, that's one way to ruin dinner."
Before anyone could respond, he crept behind Eva and Sam, lowering his voice to a ghostly whisper. "Maaaariaaa... she's watching you..."
Both Eva and Sam screamed in unison, jumping to their feet.
Eva clutched her blanket tightly. "H-Han! Don't do that! I almost dropped my food!"
Sam's eyes were wide as saucers. "I swear I saw something move! I'm not sleeping tonight!"
Han burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. "You two should've seen your faces!"
Eva pouted, cheeks puffed. "You're the worst! I hope Maria haunts you instead!"
Sam crossed her arms, glaring. "Yeah! She's gonna drag you into the river first!"
The camp erupted in laughter, the tension easing for a brief moment. Even Shin allowed himself a small smile, though his eyes still lingered on the forest's edge.
The laughter faded, replaced once more by the soft crackle of the fire and the whisper of the wind.
Somewhere beyond the trees, something stirred—listening.
As they slept, the forest grew unnervingly quiet. The fire had dimmed to glowing embers when Shin suddenly stirred. A faint rustling brushed against the side of the tent.
His eyes snapped open.
A shadow loomed outside—large, hunched, and breathing heavily. The sound of claws scraping against the ground sent a chill down his spine.
Then came a low growl.
Shin's hand went to his sword instantly. The creature outside froze, sensing his movement. For a brief moment, the two locked in silence—predator and prey.
Then, with a sudden snarl, the creature bolted into the darkness.
Shin rushed out of the tent, blade drawn. The moonlight revealed a fleeting glimpse of the creature—a werewolf, its ribs visible beneath its matted fur, eyes glowing faintly red. It was thin, weak... starving.
The others stumbled out of their tents, weapons ready.
Han rubbed his eyes. "What the hell was that?"
Shin's voice was low. "A werewolf. But it's not strong—it's starving."
Before anyone could respond, Sam shouted, "Wait—where's Eva?!"
Everyone froze. Her tent was torn open, the fabric shredded.
Han's face went pale. "No... it took her."
Shin's grip tightened on his sword. "We move. Now."
They gathered their gear in haste, following the faint trail of claw marks and disturbed earth. But before they could take another step, a voice called out from the shadows.
"Wait!"
A man emerged from the treeline, holding a lantern. His clothes were tattered, his face weary but kind. "What are you doing here?"
Shin stepped forward cautiously. "One of our friends was taken by a werewolf. We're going after it."
The man sighed heavily, lowering his lantern. "Then she's likely been taken to the castle."
"Castle?" Han asked.
The man nodded. "Yes. The old fortress beyond the ridge. That's where the creature dwells." He paused, then added, "My name is Ernesto. I'm... the last survivor of the village that once stood here."
Isolde frowned. "You survived this place?"
Ernesto nodded grimly. "Barely. I can take you to the castle, but once we reach it—you're on your own. I won't step foot inside."
Shin nodded. "That's enough. It's too dangerous for a villager anyway."
As they walked through the misty forest, Han asked, "What happened here, Ernesto?"
The man's eyes darkened. "After Maria's husband died, she cursed everyone in the garrison. The rich man was cursed to become a foul beast under the full moon—your werewolf. The soldier... she cursed him to never see the light of the sun again."
Isolde's eyes widened. "So the soldier became—"
"—a vampire," Ernesto finished. "And his men, the soldiers who served him, became ghouls. They now serve Alucard, the lord of the castle."
Sam swallowed hard. "And the werewolf?"
Ernesto looked ahead, his voice heavy with pity. "He was once known as Lucius. But I doubt he remembers even his own name now. He's nothing more than a starving animal."
As they continued walking through the misty forest, the silence between them was broken only by the crunch of leaves beneath their boots. The moonlight filtered weakly through the canopy, casting pale streaks across their path.
Ernesto glanced back at Isolde, his eyes catching the faint gleam of her holstered weapons. "That weapon of yours," he said curiously, "it's... remarkable. I've never seen anything like it."
Isolde raised an eyebrow. "You mean my revolvers?"
Ernesto nodded. "Aye. They look powerful. How do they work?"
Isolde smiled faintly, brushing her fingers along the polished steel. "It's called a revolver. It uses small metal casings filled with gunpowder and a lead bullet. When I pull the trigger, the hammer strikes the primer, igniting the powder and firing the bullet through the barrel."
Ernesto blinked, clearly fascinated. "So it's like... a handheld cannon?"
Han chuckled softly. "That's one way to put it."
Ernesto nodded slowly, still intrigued. "Tell me, does it come with silver ammunition?"
Isolde shook her head. "No, just lead. Why?"
Ernesto's expression grew serious. "Is there a chance you could make silver into bullets?"
Isolde thought for a moment. "Yes, I can. But it's not easy. Silver's softer than lead—it'll take time to mold and shape properly. What for?"
Ernesto's gaze darkened as he looked ahead into the fog. "Because the only way to kill a werewolf... or a vampire... is through silver."
Hearing this, Isolde and Han immediately opened their gear packs. They laid out their tools beside the campfire, the faint orange glow reflecting off bits of metal and silver trinkets.
"Let's see if we can make this work," Isolde murmured, pulling out a small crucible and a portable forge. Han handed her a few silver coins he'd kept as keepsakes, then set down his own weapon beside her.
"I'll make some for my hand cannon too," Han said, rolling up his sleeves. "If silver's what kills them, I'm not taking any chances."
He began melting the coins alongside Isolde, carefully pouring the molten silver into larger molds suited for his weapon's heavy rounds. The faint hiss of metal filled the air as both of them worked in rhythm—the sharp clink of tools, the glow of the forge, and the steady crackle of the fire blending into a tense harmony.
As they worked, Ernesto sat near the fire, his lantern flickering softly. His voice was low, almost mournful. "Maria was a beautiful goddess," he began. "She was ever giving—kind, gentle, and full of love for her people. But the corruption of man... it enraged her. The lies, the greed, the betrayal—it twisted her heart."
He looked into the flames, his eyes distant. "She turned into something else. A La Llorona spirit. A weeping woman cursed to wander the forest, mourning what she lost. Her cries can still be heard on nights like this."
The group listened in silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound between his words.
Ernesto continued, his tone heavy with sorrow. "I've been wanting to break the curse for so long... but I am trapped in this circle. You see, Alucard and Lucius—they're not the ones keeping you here. It's something else. Something older. Darker."
Shin's eyes narrowed. "Something else?"
Ernesto nodded slowly. "Yes. The forest itself has become tainted. The evil that consumed Maria's heart spread through the land. It feeds on fear, on sorrow. And in order for you to escape this place, you must banish that evil."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small glass vial filled with shimmering golden liquid. "Unfortunately," he said quietly, "I only have one bottle left."
Shin eyed it warily. "What is that?"
Ernesto held it up, the light from the fire making it glow faintly. "A potion of divine nature. It will heighten your senses—allow you to see what others cannot. One of you must drink it and find the source of the corruption. The rest of you..." He looked at Shin, his expression grim. "...must face Alucard and Lucius."
The group exchanged uneasy glances. The weight of what lay ahead pressed down on them like the mist around the forest.
Isolde finished molding the last of the silver bullets, setting them aside to cool. "Then we'd better be ready," she said quietly. "Because whatever's waiting for us out there... it's not going to let us leave easily."
The fire crackled, and somewhere in the distance, a faint, sorrowful wail echoed through the trees—soft, haunting, and unmistakably human.
Isolde looked at the glowing vial in Ernesto's hand, then turned to Shin. Her expression was calm but resolute. "You can leave Alucard and Lucius to us," she said firmly. "You need to focus on finding the source of this corruption. Trust us, Shin—we can handle them."
Shin hesitated, his brows furrowing. "Isolde... facing both of them at once is suicide. You don't know what they're capable of."
Han smirked, loading one of his newly forged silver rounds into his hand cannon. "We'll manage. You've carried us through worse. It's our turn to hold the line."
Isolde nodded in agreement. "You've always trusted us in battle. Do the same now."
Sam stepped forward, gripping her staff tightly. "She's right, Shin. You've always been the one protecting us. But this time, let us protect something for you. We'll keep those monsters off your back, no matter what."
Isolde smirked, glancing at Shin. "I don't know about trusting her, though," she teased, nodding toward Sam. "Last time she tried to 'protect' us, she tripped over her own staff."
Sam's face turned red. "That was one time! And the ground was uneven!"
Han chuckled. "Sure it was, Sam. Sure it was."
Even Shin couldn't help but smile, the tension easing for a brief moment. "Alright," he said softly. "I'll trust you all... even Sam."
Sam crossed her arms, muttering under her breath, "You'll see. I'll show you all who's clumsy when I blast that vampire into dust."
The group laughed quietly, the warmth of their camaraderie cutting through the chill of the cursed forest. Then Shin's expression hardened again as he turned toward the darkness ahead, the faint golden glow of the potion still pulsing through his veins.
Ernesto handed him the vial. "Drink it when you're ready. It will guide you."
Shin uncorked the potion and took a deep breath before drinking it. The liquid burned as it went down, flooding his body with warmth. A surge of divine energy coursed through him, his vision sharpening, his senses expanding beyond the physical.
He gasped, clutching his chest as a faint golden aura enveloped him. The world around him seemed to shift—the trees pulsed faintly with dark energy, and whispers echoed in the distance. He could feel it now—the corruption, thick and suffocating, emanating from the very heart of the village.
The sensation made his stomach twist. The power was immense, ancient, and vile. It called to him like a heartbeat beneath the earth.
Isolde stepped closer, concern flickering in her eyes. "Shin?"
He straightened, forcing a calm expression. "I'm fine," he said, though his voice trembled slightly. "I can feel it... the source. It's close."
Han gave him a reassuring grin. "Then go. We'll keep the monsters busy."
Sam nodded, her tone steady but her eyes full of worry. "Just promise you'll come back, alright? Don't go doing anything reckless without us."
Shin gave a faint smile. "I'll try not to."
He turned toward the dark forest, the faint glow of his aura lighting his path. Though unease gnawed at him, he didn't let it show. The others needed confidence, not doubt.
"I'll handle it," he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else, before disappearing into the mist.
The forest was silent—eerily so. The mist hung thick in the air, swallowing every sound, every breath. Shin's boots struck the damp earth as he sprinted through the trees, the faint golden glow of the divine potion still flickering around him. His heart pounded, his instincts screaming that something was wrong.
He broke through the treeline and into the village square, where the air felt heavier, darker. The cobblestones were cracked and overgrown with moss, and the faint scent of decay lingered in the air.
Then he saw it.
From the shadows emerged a Tikbalang—a towering horse-human hybrid with the head and hooves of a horse, but the muscular body of a man. Its armor was blackened and cracked, and in its massive hands, it held a jagged armorslayer sword.
"Good job, Ernesto," it said mockingly. "You've given me quite the meal today. Soon, you'll be reunited with your Goddess."
"Be gone and leave us, Ernesto," the creature commanded.
Shin's eyes widened. "Ernesto—what is this?!"
But Ernesto's face twisted with guilt. "I'm sorry..." he whispered, before turning and fleeing into the darkness.
"Ernesto!" Shin shouted, but it was too late.
Realization struck him like lightning. It was a setup.
His heart pounded as dread clawed at his mind—not for himself, but for the others. Isolde, Han, Sam... they're walking into a trap.
Rage flared within him, burning away the fear. He gritted his teeth, drawing both of his swords. "You'll pay for this."
The Tikbalang let out a low, mocking laugh. "Brave words for a mortal."
Flames erupted along Shin's blades, the firelight reflecting in his determined eyes. He charged forward, his movements swift and precise. Sparks flew as steel met steel—the Tikbalang's massive sword clashing against Shin's twin blades.
Every thrust, every swing Shin made was met with perfect parries. The creature's strength was monstrous, each counter sending shockwaves through the ground.
Shin slid back, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his brow. Despite his exhaustion, he smirked faintly. "Not bad... you can actually keep up with me."
The Tikbalang snorted, its crimson eyes narrowing. "Keep up? Foolish human. No matter how fast you move, I will match you—until you collapse from your own weakness."
They clashed again, their blades ringing through the night. Sparks scattered like fireflies as they exchanged blow after blow, neither gaining ground. Shin's muscles screamed in protest, his breathing ragged. He knew he couldn't keep this up much longer.
I need to end this now.
With a burst of energy, Shin lunged forward, thrusting both swords toward the creature's chest. The Tikbalang roared and swung its massive blade upward in a vertical arc from below. Shin managed to block the strike, but the sheer force sent him flying backward through the air.
He twisted midair, somersaulting as the world spun around him. The Tikbalang saw its chance and charged, its hooves pounding the ground like thunder, sword raised high to finish him.
But as Shin was about to land, his hands moved with precision—he combined both of his swords, locking their hilts together to form a single, broader blade. The weapon pulsed with fiery energy, the twin flames merging into one roaring inferno. In one fluid motion, he sheathed the combined sword, the condensed flames burning brighter, hotter, until they pulsed with explosive power that made the air around him tremble.
The moment his foot touched the ground, Shin's aura flared violently. The earth cracked beneath him as he vanished in a burst of speed, moving faster than before—faster than the eye could follow.
The Tikbalang's eyes widened in shock. "What—?!"
All it heard was Shin's voice cutting through the air like thunder.
"Raging Tempest Slash!"
In an instant, Shin unsheathed his sword, releasing a blinding storm of fiery slashes. A thousand blazing arcs tore through the darkness, engulfing the Tikbalang in a whirlwind of flame and steel.
The creature roared in agony as the inferno consumed it, its armor melting, its body shredded by the relentless barrage. The ground trembled beneath the force of the attack, the flames spiraling upward like a raging tempest.
When the light finally faded, Shin stood in the center of the square, his sword still burning faintly, his chest heaving with exhaustion. The Tikbalang staggered, its body scorched and torn, before collapsing to its knees with a guttural cry.
Shin's eyes burned with determination as he raised his blade once more. "That's for betraying my trust."
The creature fell silent, its body crumbling into ash as the cursed wind carried it away.
Shin lowered his sword, his breathing heavy. The flames around his blade flickered out, leaving only the faint glow of the moon above. He looked toward the forest, his expression grim.
"Ernesto... what have you done?" he muttered.
The wind howled through the empty square, carrying with it the faint echo of laughter—cold, mocking, and distant.
Shin tightened his grip on his sword and turned toward the path leading back to his companions. The battle was far from over.
The long night had only just begun.