Rave's breathing was shallow, tense. Each step echoed against the stone walls, bouncing back in uncertain rhythms. His sword flickered softly in the dark, casting long shadows against the jagged interior of the cave.
He wasn't sweating from exhaustion.
It was fear.
The kind of fear that crept beneath the skin, that whispered of unseen watchers and hidden teeth waiting to strike.
He kept walking, eyes scanning, sword steady.
Nothing.
Just stone and silence. The cave felt old and untouched, save for time and wind. There were no signs of beasts. No claw marks. No foul scents. Just damp earth, moss growing in patches, and rough rocks jutting out like broken teeth from the floor and ceiling.
But the deeper he went, the colder the air became.
Like it wasn't just temperature… but something else. Something that chilled the soul.
Still, he pushed through.
He explored every crevice. Every possible tunnel. Every turn.
But there was nothing — no ambush, no cursed creatures, no hidden relics.
Just emptiness.
And that somehow made it worse.
After nearly an hour of cautious searching, he gave up. Rave let out a quiet sigh and glanced around for a place to rest.
He began collecting dried moss and scattered grass — fragile bits of nature clinging to stone life. With careful hands, he made a small bedding beside the inner wall where the rock was slightly curved, offering protection from above.
Then, he pulled out his berry pouch and opened it.
The berries still glowed faintly under his swordlight — a deep purple-red hue. They looked juicier than they should have, as if unnaturally ripe. But he was too tired to question it.
He picked one up and bit into it.
The juice spilled onto his tongue, sweet and sharp. His eyes widened slightly in surprise.
"Mm… it's mid," he muttered with a shrug, before popping another one in.
He ate until his hunger dulled, then set the pouch aside and gathered a pile of dry moss. With the smallest flick of flame from a flint he carried, he lit it.
The flame crackled softly.
Not loud. Not wild.
Just enough.
Rave sat beside the fire, arms wrapped around his knees, watching the small flickers dance. The sound lulled him like a lullaby he hadn't heard in years. It was the first peace he had felt since Wil's death.
The world seemed to pause.
No monsters.
No shadows.
No curses.
Just warmth.
And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to sleep.
But peace never lasted.
When morning came, the fire had long since died, leaving behind only cold ash and damp smoke.
Rave's eyes opened slowly. He shivered, breath visible in the chill. The cave was quiet again. Too quiet.
He stood and drew his sword, reigniting the light. Nothing seemed out of place.
And yet… something felt different.
He gave one last look around the cavern before stepping out into the light of morning. Pale sun trickled through the trees above. The jungle looked unchanged. But he felt... heavier somehow. As if something from the cave had followed him.
Or perhaps... awoken.
He sheathed his sword and began his descent, taking care not to slip on the rocks. Every grip was precise, every step measured.
One misstep would cost him everything.
But he made it down, barely.
At the base of the mountain, he caught his breath.
Then he turned back toward the north, toward the Crimson Fall City.
The journey had resumed.
He continued walking through the jungle.
***
However after a few mintues.
The wind changed.
Rave noticed it immediately. The way it pushed through the trees, no longer soft and playful, but sharp. Intentional. The jungle around him had quieted too. The birds had gone still, and even the buzzing of insects had faded into silence.
He slowed his pace.
Something was watching him.
Rave ducked under a low-hanging branch, brushing aside thick vines. The canopy above filtered the sunlight in patches, making the ground beneath a dappled quilt of gold and shadow. The deeper he went, the less familiar things looked.
And then he heard it.
A low, guttural snarl. Distant, but growing.
He froze.
'Grade 3?'
That was his guess. The aura wasn't crushing like the mutant wolf had been, but it still weighed on his lungs. Strong enough to kill him if he wasn't careful.
He moved slowly now, one hand gripping the hilt of his sword, the other hovering near the pouch of berries, his only food for the past day and a half.
The sound came again. Closer.
This time, it was a rasping breath. Wet. Heavy.
And then it stepped into view.
A hulking creature, six-legged, its body low to the ground like a panther, but scaled like a reptile. Its mouth was lined with uneven, jagged teeth, and its tongue flickered like a snake's. One eye was glowing faint red and the other was a scarred pit.
Rave slowly unsheathed his blade. It hummed faintly with light, casting a glow on the jungle floor.
The beast recoiled slightly at the sudden glow, but didn't back down.
So… you're not afraid of light.
He crouched, lowering his center of gravity.
"Let's not make this take all day," he whispered.
Then the creature leapt.
Its speed was faster than Rave expected. His instincts kicked in, barely dodging as the beast's claws raked the air where he had just stood. He slashed in return, catching one of its legs — but not deep enough to do real damage.
The beast screeched in pain, then twisted with unnatural agility, tail whipping toward him.
Rave ducked, rolled, and came up swinging — a clean slice across its flank.
It yowled again. Blood — thick and dark — splattered across the leaves.
But it didn't stop.
It came again, faster, wild with rage.
The fight lasted minutes that felt like hours. Every motion Rave made had to be exact — precise. He didn't have Wil's strength anymore. He had his own speed, his own cunning, and just enough stamina to keep moving.
One wrong move would mean death.
Finally, as he slid under one last lunge and drove his blade straight up into its exposed neck — the beast collapsed, twitching, and then stilled.
Panting, covered in grime and sweat, Rave pulled the blade free and backed away. He stared at the body.
No shard appeared.
'So it wasn't cursed.'
Just a wild predator. Strong, but not corrupted.
He exhaled.
Collapsed against a tree.
"I can't keep doing this…"
But he knew he had to.
He took a drink from his near-empty flask, wiped his blade clean, and stood up again.
Crimson Fall was still far ahead.