Rhanes left the guild at midnight, leaving Lovia behind to lock up for the evening. He stepped out into the cold night air, his breath misting before him. The moon hung full and bright in the sky, smiling down upon the town with benevolent indifference. Most of the town had gone to sleep, though a few late-night pedestrians still wandered here and there—drunks stumbling home from taverns, night workers heading to their shifts, lovers seeking the privacy of shadows.

  The city guard who had summoned him walked a respectful pace ahead, leading Rhanes through the quiet streets toward the town station. Their footsteps echoed off the cobblestones, the only sound besides the occasional distant bark of a dog or the creak of a shop sign swaying in the night breeze.

  As they approached the station—a sturdy stone building that served as both guardhouse and temporary jail—Rhanes noticed a figure standing at the entrance. The man wore a dark blue uniform that marked him as chief of the city guard. A lit cigarette dangled from his fingers, the ember glowing like a tiny star in the darkness. Smoke curled lazily upward, dissipating into the night air.

  The guard escorted Rhanes directly to the chief and spoke with crisp formality. "Chief Barvtov. Master Rhanes, as requested." He gestured to indicate the delivery was complete.

  "Hm." Barvtov took a long drag from his cigarette before responding. "You—return to your patrol duties."

  "Yes, sir." The guard saluted sharply and disappeared into the night, his footsteps gradually fading into silence.

  Once they were alone, Barvtov's formal demeanor softened slightly. "Hammer," he said, using Rhanes's old nickname.

  "Barvtov..." Rhanes's tone was flat, unamused. "Do you have any idea what time it is? Whatever the reason for this summons, couldn't it have waited until morning? Did Atsume finally throw you out of the house or something?"

  Barvtov chuckled ruefully and took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke that hung in the still air. "Yeah, it's been rough the past few days, actually. You know how she is—not a day goes by without some kind of event or drama." He paused, then winked at Rhanes with forced good humor. "Though mostly good things, I suppose. Keeps life interesting."

  Rhanes's expression remained impassive, his patience already wearing thin.

  Barvtov cleared his throat with a rough, rasping sound. "Right. Anyway. Enough about my family life."

  "About time," Rhanes said curtly. "What's so important that you needed to meet immediately?"

  "About that..." Bartov shifted his weight, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "When are you planning to get married? You know, you're not exactly young anymore. Don't you think it's about time to settle down for good?"When are you finally going to use that hammer of yours for something other than work?" He forced a laugh. "I mean, even though you've passed your prime years ago—"

  "The important thing," Rhanes interrupted, his voice rising with irritation. "I'm asking about Daro, you idiot. Daro. That's why I'm here, isn't it?"

  Barvtov blinked, as if suddenly remembering the actual reason for the meeting. "Oh! Yeah, yeah. Sorry, Hammer. It's just... it's been such a long time since we've really talked, you know? With our busy schedules and all, we just don't meet anymore except for passing greetings in the street. I've been getting so stressed lately, not able to vent my troubles to anyone. And Atsume, she's just so—" He continued rambling about his domestic difficulties, seemingly unable to stop himself.

  This bastard is getting old, Rhanes thought with growing exasperation. He's starting to resemble his rambling father. For heaven's sake...

  "And... and..." Barvtov continued, lost in his own concerns.

  "Are you finished?" Rhanes cut him off sharply.

  "Huh?"

  "Well, if you aren't finished, I can certainly finish this conversation for you right now." Rhanes stared at him with cold, direct intensity.

  "Oh! Oh, sorry, Hammer. I can't believe I called you out in the middle of your work, at this ungodly hour, and then just started talking about my own problems. It's just... you know, Atsume won't—"

  "ENOUGH!"

  "Yes! Yes, yes, sorry." Barvtov quickly stubbed out his cigarette and straightened up, finally getting to business. "This way. Follow me."

  "What about Daro?" Rhanes asked as they walked toward the station's entrance. "Did he wake up?"

  "Yes, earlier this evening. And the first thing he asked about—the very first thing—was you and that stranger who came to town. The look he gave me when he was talking about the stranger..." Barvtov shuddered slightly. "It was unsettling, Hammer. Really unsettling."

  "Kuro," Rhanes corrected.

  "What?"

  "His name is Kuro. The stranger's name."

  "Right... right. Kuro." Barvtov nodded. "Anyway, Daro insists on talking to you and you alone. That's why I called you here tonight."

  "I understand that, but why does it have to be now? Tonight? Why couldn't this wait until morning?"

  "I'm sorry, I know the timing is terrible. But the way Daro talked, the look in his eyes..." Barvtov's voice dropped lower. "It was more than unsettling. It was threatening. I've known Daro for years, and I've never seen him like that."

  Rhanes glanced around the station, his experienced eyes taking in the details. The building was empty—eerily so. No guards at their posts, no night clerks processing paperwork, no prisoners calling out from cells. Just silence and shadows.

  "Barvtov?"

  The chief understood the unspoken question. "Just a precaution. I cleared everyone out for the night. Don't worry—it's only that one cell where Daro is being held. I'll leave you two alone to talk."

  He paused at the entrance to the cell block, his hand on the door. "Hammer... be careful. Whatever he wants, whatever he says... just be careful."

  Then Barvtov took his leave, his footsteps echoing away down the corridor, leaving Rhanes standing alone in the dim hallway.

  The Cell

  Rhanes walked slowly down the corridor toward the occupied cell. The torches along the walls cast flickering shadows that danced and swayed. His footsteps were measured, deliberate. He was approaching this meeting as he approached a difficult smithing project—with focus, control, and an awareness that one wrong move could ruin everything.

  "Well, well, well!" A voice called out from behind the bars. "Look who's here! The great Guild Master Rhanes Nordell himself! The symbol of justice! The paragon of virtue! The man who stands for everything good and righteous in this shithole of a town!"

  Daro's voice dripped with mock reverence and barely concealed venom.

  Rhanes stopped a few feet from the cell and regarded the prisoner with cold eyes. "What do you want, cheater..Thief..You know, unlike you, I'm actually busy. So make this quick."

  For a moment, Daro just stared at him. Then he began to laugh.

  "Hehe... ha... hahahaaaah!"

  The laughter started low and grew, building into something loud and ominous that echoed off the stone walls. It was the laugh of a man who held a winning hand and knew it. The laugh of someone who had discovered a secret worth more than gold.

  "HAHAHAAAAH!"

  The laughter continued for a solid minute, rising and falling in waves, while Rhanes stood motionless, his expression unchanging.

  Finally, Daro's laughter subsided into breathless chuckling. "You... you fucking idiot! On my grave, if you knew what I know, you wouldn't be talking to me like that! You'd be groveling at my feet like an insect! HAHA!" The laugh echoed through the cell block, somehow even more disturbing than before.

  "Out with it, Daro," Rhanes said flatly. "If all you're going to do is speak shit, then speak it to yourself. I'm leaving."

  He turned to go.

  "For as long as I can remember," Daro began, his voice suddenly conversational, almost friendly, "you've never been from a noble bloodline. Have you, Rhanes?"

  Rhanes stopped. He didn't turn around, but his shoulders tensed imperceptibly.

  "That's right," Daro continued, warming to his subject. "You're like everybody else—a commoner. Oh, you run an adventurers' guild, which is respectable enough. You're a master smith, which is admirable. You've made a name for yourself through hard work and skill. But you're still just a commoner at the end of the day."

  Daro paused dramatically, letting the words hang in the air.

  "So tell me, Master Rhanes... how exactly does a commoner—a named individual like yourself, certainly, but still just a commoner—how does someone like you..." Another dramatic pause. "...learn to use MAGIC?"

  Rhanes turned slowly to face the cell. His expression was unreadable, but something dangerous had entered his eyes.

  "Haha! Cat got your tongue?" Daro pressed his advantage, gripping the bars of his cell. "The Mosrel Horn—that sword you perfected for that bastard Kuro. I witnessed it, Rhanes. I saw the magic you used to forge it. I watched you work with power that no commoner should be able to touch, let alone control."

  His voice dropped to a theatrical whisper. "Oh, Rhanes... what have you done? You know better than anyone the punishment for breaking the highest taboo. And done by a guild master, no less! A pillar of the community! Wow!"

  He made an exaggerated expression of worry, shaking his head with mock sadness. "If this got out... I wonder what kind of impact our poor little town would face. The scandal! The investigation! The purge! So sad. So very, very sad."

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  Rhanes stood perfectly still. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm—too calm. "Oh, Daro. I underestimated you. Good for you. You figured it out." A cold smile spread across his face, though it never reached his eyes. "So what do you want? Freedom? Money? A promotion? Just say it, and consider it done."

  Despite his casual tone and smile, the anger in Rhanes's eyes was palpable. His face was strained, the muscles in his jaw tight. He looked like a man barely keeping a volcano contained.

  "Oh my god!" Daro exclaimed with delight. "Look how the mighty Rhanes folds! Just like that! Hehe, good to know you're human after all. I like what you're offering. In fact..." He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with greed. "I'll take everything you listed. All of it. Plus one more thing."

  "And that is?"

  "Kuro." Daro's voice became deadly serious. "His head. I want him dead."

  Rhanes's expression didn't change. "Why?"

  "Because that's not a human you've brought into our town, Rhanes. That's a monster. I saw it in his eyes when he was about to kill me. There's something wrong with him—something fundamentally broken. He's dangerous. Maybe more dangerous than you realize."

  Daro's voice took on an urgent quality. "This is for both of our benefit, I assure you. It's better if he dies now, before whatever he is fully manifests. Trust me on this."

  He leaned back, his tone returning to its earlier smugness. "So what's it gonna be, hmm? Do we have a deal?"

  Rhanes didn't respond immediately. The silence stretched out, becoming uncomfortable. Daro shifted his weight, suddenly less certain.

  Finally, Rhanes spoke one word: "Deal."

  He raised his hand toward the bars, extending it through for a handshake to seal their agreement.

  Daro's face lit up with a pleased, triumphant expression. "Yes! Yes, excellent!" He gripped Rhanes's hand and shook it with enthusiastic energy, already imagining his freedom, his wealth, his revenge.

  Their hands clasped firmly, sealing the alliance.

  Then, when Daro tried to pull his hand back, he discovered he couldn't. It was stuck. Rhanes's grip had become like iron—immovable, unyielding.

  "What... what are you doing?" Daro's smile faded. He pulled harder. "Rhanes, let go of my hand. I said let go of my hand!"

  The grip began to cause pain, pressure building in his bones. Daro's confusion turned to worry, then rapidly escalated toward panic.

  "Oh, Daro..." Rhanes's voice was soft, almost apologetic. "I'm sorry about this. I've realized I made a terrible mistake."

  "What? What mistake? Rhanes, you're hurting me! Let go!"

  "The mistake I made," Rhanes continued calmly, as if Daro hadn't spoken, "was saving you when Kuro was about to kill you. That was an error in judgment on my part. I should have let nature take its course."

  Daro's eyes went wide with sudden, complete understanding. Terror flooded his features. "No! No, wait! GUARDS!" He began screaming at the top of his lungs. "GUARDS! WARDEN! You pieces of shit, where are you?! CHIEF! BARVTOV! HELP!"

  He yanked desperately at his trapped hand, trying to wrench it free from Rhanes's grip, but it was like trying to pull free from a steel vice. "Rhanes, let go! LET GO! Please! We can work something out! I won't tell anyone! I swear! PLEASE!"

  Rhanes's expression remained cold, unmoved by the pleading. His eyes showed no mercy, no hesitation, no doubt. "Too bad. Too bad indeed."

  He spoke one word: "Farewell."

  Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he added: "Spark."

  BUFFFFF.

  Fire erupted from Rhanes's hand.

  It wasn't normal fire. This was something else—something that burned hotter, faster, more completely than any natural flame. It engulfed Daro in an instant, spreading from their clasped hands up his arm and across his entire body in a heartbeat.

  Daro didn't even have time to scream.

  The magical fire consumed him so quickly, so thoroughly, that his voice was cut off mid-breath. His body collapsed backward into the cell, already more ash than flesh. The flames burned with an intensity that left no smoke, no smell of burning meat—just a clean, terrible heat that reduced everything it touched to fine grey powder.

  In seconds, it was over.

  Daro was gone. Not dead—gone. Erased. Nothing remained but a pile of ash on the cell floor and a faint shimmer in the air where the heat had been.

  Rhanes stood there, his hand still extended through the bars, watching the settling ash with cold, pitiless eyes. Not a trace of regret showed on his face. Not a hint of remorse or guilt.

  He had done what needed to be done.

  Slowly, he withdrew his hand and examined it. The skin was unmarked, unburned. The magic had responded to his will perfectly, harming only what he intended to harm.

  So much for keeping it secret, he thought grimly. But some secrets are worth killing to protect. And some people...

  He looked at the ash that had been Daro.

  Some people are simply too dangerous to let live.

  Rhanes turned and walked away from the cell without looking back. His footsteps echoed through the empty station as he made his way toward the exit.

  Outside, Chief Barvtov was waiting, leaning against the wall with a fresh cigarette. He looked up as Rhanes emerged, his expression carefully neutral.

  "Is it done?" Barvtov asked quietly.

  "It's done."

  "Good," Barvtov took a long drag. "I'll handle the paperwork. I'll cook up a believable lie."

  "Thanks."

  Void.

  Shadows draped over everything like a funeral shroud, broken only by a jagged fissure in the darkness—a crack that revealed nothing but more emptiness beyond. Kuro sat motionless in that void, peering through the massive fracture into the nothingness as though he belonged there, as though this lightless cave had always been his home.

  "Are you here? Bird...?"

  The voice echoed through the darkness, familiar yet distant. That voice... he knew it. Recognition struck him like lightning. In the battle—yes, in the midst of that brutal fight—it had called to him.

  "It was you, wasn't it?" Kuro surged to his feet, his voice raw with fury. "Talk, bastard! Explain what's going on! Speak, freak!"

  His shout died in the oppressive silence. No answer came. Nothing stirred in the void.

  "Tch."

  He moved toward the crack, that mysterious opening that led... where? Nowhere? Somewhere beyond comprehension? As his hand reached toward the light, everything collapsed inward. The crack sealed shut with terrible finality, and darkness consumed all.

  Awakening

  Kuro's eyes snapped open.

  An ocean-blue sky stretched endlessly above him, unmarred by clouds. Birds wheeled through the air in graceful formation, their calls melodic and peaceful. He turned his head slowly, taking in his surroundings—trees everywhere, their ancient trunks rising like pillars in a natural cathedral. He was still in the forest, it seemed.

  The sound of grinding drew his attention. There sat Fenric, hunched over some makeshift mortar, crushing herbs with intense concentration.

  Fenric glanced up and his eyes widened. "Oh, thank Molly, you're awake! I thought you were going to die, partner. Don't scare me like that—" He raised a hand in warning. "Don't move! You're severely injured."

  But Kuro was already moving, sitting upright with a grunt. He noticed then that he was wrapped in thick, coarse fur—the pelt of the Hrungnir Queen herself.

  "What the—are you alright?" Fenric's voice pitched higher with alarm. "It must hurt like hell. Don't move anymore. I'm making medicine for—"

  "Don't worry about it. I'm fine." Kuro stood, rolling his shoulders. His joints popped and cracked like dry kindling in a fire as he stretched, working out the stiffness.

  "Dude, how are you standing?" Fenric's jaw hung slack. "The injuries—don't you feel any pain? You had several broken bones. I was pretty damn sure you wouldn't even be able to move an inch, let alone walk around like you're ready for morning training."

  "Hm. Really?" Kuro rotated his arms experimentally. "I don't feel any different except some stress in the muscles." The curse, maybe, he thought.

  "Weird. You've been knocked out for half a day, man. I didn't dare move you—figured if I tried, your injuries would get worse. So I spent the entire day scavenging, searching for medicinal herbs, grinding up anything that might help. I even started thinking about crushing up your sword to make some kind of mystical poultice, and here you are, standing like nothing happened." Fenric examined Kuro's leg more closely, his face contorting with bewilderment. "And your leg—where's the bite mark? It was deep, practically to the bone!"

  He scratched his head vigorously, his expression caught between shock and relief. "This makes no sense at all."

  Kuro turned toward the battlefield behind them. The Queen's massive corpse lay there, her skin removed in sections, her reign ended. A small smile ghosted across his face—brief, almost savage.

  "Whatever. Let's go already. We've wasted enough time, and I'm hungry as fuck."

  "Yeah, of course. Let's go." As they walked, Fenric shook his head in disbelief. "Man, what a fucking day. We came here to hunt korguls and ended up fighting an entire pack of Hrungnirs and their Queen. Damn. What else am I going to face traveling with you? I don't know, man. Every day is like rolling dice with fate."

  "Yeah," Kuro replied simply. "It was fun."

  Fenric stopped mid-stride, staring at his companion in disbelief. "Dude, seriously? Fun? You nearly died, partner! It was so not worth it. You know we still get paid the same price either way, right? Dead korguls, dead Hrungnirs—the contract doesn't pay extra for almost getting killed."

  "Hmm." Kuro considered this. "So what do we get?"

  "What do you mean? I just said—"

  "Not that. I mean, with high beasts, we get the horn or the heart—parts that are worth a fortune. What do we get from the Queen?"

  Fenric's expression darkened. "The Abyssals are like high beasts in power, but we get nothing from them. Nothing valuable, anyway."

  "What about the meat?"

  "It's poisonous. Even if we cooked it thoroughly over sacred flame, the poison doesn't fade. All Abyssals are like that—toxic to the core."

  "Poisonous?" Kuro frowned, his brow furrowing. "But the Queen didn't attack me with any poison during our fight."

  "That's because only their internal organs are poisonous. Their claws, fangs, all that—deadly but not venomous. But eat their flesh?" Fenric made a slicing gesture across his throat. "Dead within hours. Scholars still can't figure out why. It's one of the great mysteries."

  "Hmm."

  Return to Tuskber

  After a long trek through increasingly familiar terrain, they finally reached the village of Tuskber. They went straight to Mr. Evandrous's house, exhaustion weighing on them like iron chains.

  Nina answered the door and literally screamed, her hand flying to her mouth. The two hunters stood before her, soaked in dried blood, caked with dirt and gore, smelling like death itself had used them as rags to clean up a massacre. For a heartbeat, she genuinely thought they were vengeful spirits come to haunt her.

  "Holy elves! What the heck happened? You guys look like a horde of korguls gathered around and shit on you for sport!"

  "Sharp tongue as always," Fenric muttered. "You know what kind of hunt you sent us on? Those korguls—"

  "—were easier than we thought," Kuro interjected smoothly, cutting off Fenric's complaint. "We ended up hunting every single one. Took longer than expected, that's all."

  Fenric shot Kuro a puzzled look, then understanding dawned in his eyes. Kuro didn't want to stand out, didn't want to reveal what they'd truly faced. Still, Fenric couldn't quite hide his frustration at having to downplay nearly dying.

  "Oh really?" Nina's voice dripped with skepticism, one eyebrow arched high. "And do you have proof, hmm?" Her hand still covered her nose against the stench.

  Kuro felt his temper flare, but a calm voice from within the house diffused the tension.

  "They don't have to prove anything." Mr. Evandrous emerged from the shadows of his doorway, his weathered face serene. "I can feel they did it. The land itself tells me the corruption has been cleansed." He smiled warmly. "Come in, gentlemen. You must be starving."

  After washing their faces and hands, Fenric and Kuro descended upon the lunch Nina had prepared like wolves upon a wounded deer, devouring everything in sight.

  For a damn brat, she sure knows how to cook, Fenric thought grudgingly between mouthfuls.

  Mr. Evandrous watched them eat with paternal satisfaction. "It must have been tough, handling those bastards. Nina here thought you men wouldn't survive, but I had complete faith in you. I'm glad I was right to trust you both."

  "It was just... korguls, you know," Fenric said carefully, his tone deliberately casual. "And don't think we did this purely for the reward. It was a matter of service—doing good for people as much as we can. Isn't that right, partner?"

  Kuro, his face buried in a bowl of stew, barely registered the question. He nodded slightly, entirely focused on the food.

  "See?" Fenric continued, forcing a smile. "It's not like it was dangerous and we almost died or anything. Ha ha!"

  Mr. Evandrous's smile deepened knowingly, but he said nothing.

  Then Nina struck. "So if you two did this purely for the good of the people, then you don't need the reward, right?"

  "Wh-what?"

  "You know, aside from our house and the fields, we don't have that much money. Most of it goes to taxes and upkeep. You wouldn't really expect money from us, would you? Not when you were doing it out of the goodness of your hearts..."

  Fenric looked at Nina with an expression of pure horror, then slowly turned to Mr. Evandrous, who watched the exchange with mild amusement. Fenric felt Kuro's eyes boring holes into the side of his head.

  "Riiiiiiight," Fenric said through gritted teeth. "Of course. Who do you think we are? Ha ha..." His laugh came out strangled. He glanced at Kuro, who was now shooting absolute daggers at him.

  This bitch, Fenric muttered under his breath.

  As they prepared to leave, Mr. Evandrous called Kuro back. He clasped the young hunter's hand firmly in both of his own, and as he shook it, something passed between their palms—a coin roughly the length and weight of a pocket watch, pressed discreetly into Kuro's hand.

  "It won't be much compared to what you've truly done for us," the old man said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "Nobody else would have done this—not for what we could afford to pay. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Keep this as my token of appreciation."

  The look in Mr. Evandrous's eyes spoke volumes—gratitude, yes, but also something else. Recognition, perhaps. Or warning.

  Kuro closed his fingers around the heavy coin and nodded once.

  They both climbed onto Beretta, Fenric's trusty steed, and took off toward Bear Path, the main road that would lead them back to civilization.

  The forest slowly gave way behind them, and with it, the shadows of what they'd faced—and what still lurked in the darkness, waiting.