Beyond Axbrid stretched the wilderness not the choking, haunted expanse of Jurra Forest, but a calmer, brighter trail. The trees here stood farther apart, letting beams of sunlight spill through the canopy in golden shafts. The wind blew freely, causing the long grass to dance and ripple like waves. Mountains loomed in the distance, sharp against the clear sky.
For the first time in days, the path didn't feel like a trap.
Leo raised his hand and whispered the True Name of the wind.
At once, the air shifted answering him. It surged forward, fast and sharp, sending Matthew rocketing ahead like a fired arrow, sword already drawn.
From behind a twisted shrub, a hulking creature lunged at a beast with a broad, boar-like body, a single curved horn on its nose, and a grotesquely oversized tail shaped like a warhammer. A Menace-rank lesser monster, no doubt dangerous, but not rare in these lands.
But the monster never stood a chance.
Matthew, propelled by Leo's magic, struck with brutal precision. The blow hit so hard and fast that the creature was thrown several feet before collapsing, unmoving.
"Well," Leo said casually, lowering his hand, "that was easy."
Matthew yanked his sword free from the creature's side, wiping the blood on its fur. "I almost lost my balance mid-swing. Your wind's gotten stronger."
Leo just shrugged, nonchalant.
"We really need to practice that Flying Steel Combo," Matthew said, stretching his arms. "If we master it, we'll be unstoppable!"
Leo raised an eyebrow. "Flying Steel Combo?"
"Yeah. You, wind. Me ,steel. Flying Steel. Our combo moves." Matthew struck a heroic pose, arms akimbo, face dead serious.
Leo gave him a blank look. "That's the cheesiest name I've ever heard."
"What?? It's a great name!" Matthew protested as Leo helped him drag the heavy carcass off the path.
Later, they set up camp near a shaded grove. The air was warm, still gentle. Matthew and Leo volunteered to hunt while El stayed behind, crouched over a spread of parchment and a small compass nestled in the corner of the map.
"El!" Matthew's voice rang out from between the trees. He returned with a pig-like creature slung over his shoulders. "Tell Leo Flying Steel Combo is cool!"
El didn't even glance at him, her attention fixed on the map.
Leo knelt beside her. "So… what's the plan?"
El tapped a path on the parchment. "This is the common route most adventurers and merchant caravans take. It skirts the western edge of the forest. Monsters rarely appear there."
Leo eyed her warily. "But…?"
She pointed at a red mark along the trail. "Bandit territory. According to Old Man Tavon, it's a common spot for ambushes."
"So?" Leo leaned closer, brow furrowed.
"So," El said firmly, "we should go over the mountain instead of around it. It's the fastest way."
Matthew, who had begun skinning their catch nearby, looked up. "Wouldn't going around be safer? No monsters, right?"
El's eyes flicked to him, unreadable.
Matthew flinched. "Hey! Just asking. Don't stare like that, it's creepy."
She shrugged. "You're right it is safer. But after everything we've seen, I'd rather face monsters than people. At least with monsters, you know what you're up against. People?" Her voice dropped. "People sell you. People break you. I'd rather die than end up in chains."
That quiet truth sank into the earth around them.
Neither Leo nor Matthew argued. They knew she was right. Monsters could be overpowered or outsmarted. But humans? Humans were cunning. Cruel. And worse, killing them even in self-defense left a stain on the soul.
Matthew finally broke the silence, trying to lift the weight. "Well… I say we go for it. Take the mountain path. If we run into monsters, good. It'll give us more chances to refine our combat and get better before Marlingdon."
Leo looked at him, then nodded. Not because it was the smarter plan, but because it was the right one for them.
Even if the road ahead was steep and uncertain, they would face it on their terms together.
After a quick lunch and a moment of quiet, the trio pressed onward toward the looming mountain ahead.
It towered before them like an ancient sentinel, its ridgelines sharp and jagged against the amber hues of the descending sun. Though it wasn't the tallest peak in the region, it bore the rugged defiance of age. Wind and time had carved deep scars into its cliffs, and its slopes were dotted with crooked trees and hardy shrubs that clung desperately to the rocky soil. The higher they climbed, the more the vegetation withered, until the upper reaches were nothing but bare stone and wind-scoured ledges.
Crossing it would take roughly two days—far quicker than circling around, which could take three, maybe four. But even with light packs, the uphill march quickly became a trial of endurance.
Leo stumbled, hands on his knees, chest heaving. "Can we… take a break?" he panted. "I'm at my limit."
Ahead of them, El kept a steady pace, leading the group like a seasoned trailblazer. She didn't stop. "Not here," she said, voice sharp with caution. "We need to find somewhere safer. Resting in the open is dangerous."
Just as her words left her lips, the trees to their left began to sway unnaturally. The wind had not changed but the forest had. Something massive was moving through it, and the earth trembled faintly with each thunderous step.
They froze.
A moment later, they moved as one, diving behind a massive boulder on the mountain trail. Pressed tightly together, heartbeats thudding against ribs and skin slick with cold sweat, they listened as the ground shook with approaching steps.
The trees groaned and bent, pushed aside as though they were grass. Then, the footsteps slowed closer now. Just on the other side of the boulder.
The sound stopped.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
A shadow moved above them, and slowly, terrifyingly, a massive head lowered into view—its sheer size dwarfing the boulder they crouched beneath. The creature's chin hovered inches above their heads. It wasn't a beast at least, not one they recognized.
Its head was disturbingly human-like, though twisted and grotesque in proportion. A thick, tangled beard covered its face, and its skin was a mottled brownish-red, like dried clay mixed with old blood. One enormous eye stared forward pale and unfocused. Its iris was nearly invisible.
It wasn't looking at them.
It was sniffing.
Leo's eyes widened as realization struck. It's blind.
They dared not breathe. Their bodies remained still, tense as coiled wire.
Seconds passed.
Then, slowly, the massive head rose again, and the creature took a heavy step forward, then another, until the tremors faded into the distance.
Only then did the trio collapse, gasping in silence, limbs heavy with dread.
Matthew was the first to speak, his voice a trembling whisper. "What the heck was that thing?"
Neither El nor Leo answered immediately. They looked as pale as him, still recovering from the encounter.
"I… I don't know," El said finally, her hands visibly shaking.
Leo remained seated, staring at the spot where the creature had stood. "Whatever it was, we couldn't fight it. But if it's blind, maybe that's the only reason we survived."
Matthew wiped sweat from his brow, still shaken. "I told you we should've taken the other route…"
"There's no turning back now," El said firmly. Her voice had regained its edge, though her eyes still flicked nervously toward the woods. "We avoid it. Stay quiet. And thank the gods it can't see. That gives us one advantage."
Leo rose to his feet, brushing dust from his clothes. "She's right. We can't waste another day going back."
He turned to Matthew with a smirk, trying to ease the tension. "Still excited to 'refine our combat style' before reaching Marlingdon?"
Matthew scowled. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"
"Nope," Leo said with a grin.
The sun dipped behind the jagged peaks, casting long, eerie shadows across the land. The golden warmth of the afternoon faded into a cold, blue dusk. Just as the trio began to think luck was finally tilting in their favor, a cold drop of rain splashed onto El's cheek.
She blinked, looked up—and sighed.
A second drop hit Matthew's nose. "Oh, come on," he muttered.
Then the sky opened.
Within seconds, the drizzle became a downpour. Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance, as if mocking them.
"Quick!" El pointed toward a break in the rocky slope. Vines clung thick over a narrow gap in the stone, nearly hidden in the darkening light.
"There!" Matthew pointed to a gnarled wall of vines nestled between two sharp ridges. Behind it, barely visible through the rain and gathering dusk, was the mouth of a cave, wide, tall, and waiting.
They rushed inside.
The cave yawned open before them, wider and deeper than any of them expected. Its ceiling stretched high, and its walls seemed to vanish into darkness the further it went. The air inside was dry, cold, and silent, too silent.
They stayed near the entrance, just past the curtain of rain, where light from the stormy sky still reached and the wind could not.
Leo pulled the kindling from his pack and laid it carefully on a flat slab of stone.
He raised his hand and murmured softly, The true name of fire.
A pulse of warmth shimmered in the air as sparks burst from his palm. A moment later, fire bloomed in the cave's mouth, crackling to life and pushing the damp chill away. The flickering light danced across the stone walls, casting their shadows far behind them into the depths they dared not enter.
Matthew collapsed beside the flame with a groan. "I swear, if I had to walk one more step in these soaked feet, I'd offer myself to the next monster that passed."
"You'd taste like sadness and regret," El muttered, wringing out her cloak and laying it near the fire to dry.
Leo grinned and fed another stick into the fire. "I didn't know if that would work. This rain makes the air stubborn."
"But the fire still listened," El said, watching the blaze as though it were alive. "You called it by name."
Leo only nodded, eyes reflecting the flame.
Beyond them, the storm raged—rain hitting the stone with steady rhythm. Lightning flashed, illuminating the jagged outline of trees outside the cave. Deeper in the cave, there was only blackness. No sound, no breeze. Just stone and the unspoken hush of something old.