Rolin raised a brow slightly, his gaze brushing over her as if her words were nothing more than a mildly disappointing joke.
"So… are we friends now? Throwing around nicknames already… Miss Spider Bride?"
Selen stopped mid-step.
Slowly—very slowly—she turned toward him.
Her stare was cold enough to make the air itself feel thinner.
"Say that again."
Likath's voice slipped in, low and delighted: "Oh… you just poked the wrong spider."
Rolin met her gaze without flinching.
"What? Weren't you the one who started it?"
Selen stepped closer. There was something strange in her eyes now—irritation, yes… but something else beneath it. Something she hadn't quite sorted out herself.
"You really have no sense of taste."
Rolin paused on that.
'Sense of… taste?'
He looked at her for a second, as if analyzing a newly discovered species.
Then, calmly:
"You survived a cocoon from a house-sized spider. That's a rare achievement."
Her eyes narrowed.
"I didn't survive… you saved me."
The words came out quieter this time. Slightly reluctant.
And for some reason—
That bothered him.
"Still," he said coolly, "you stayed alive longer than most. That's impressive."
The air tightened between them.
Then—
Flames flickered, and Likath burned away the remaining threads around her wrists.
Selen exhaled, rolling her wrists slowly, then looked back at him.
"If you're so obsessed with nicknames…"
She stepped closer.
Lowered her voice just enough—
"I'll call you… little pervert."
Likath flared instantly, delighted. "I like it!"
Rolin shot her a flat look, suppressing a very real urge to strangle her with his chains.
"Of course… Miss Spider Bride."
Likath's flames dimmed slightly.
"…And we're back to zero."
Silence.
Rolin didn't react further.
He simply turned.
"Let's move. I want out of this hell."
This time—
She didn't answer right away.
A second passed.
Then she turned toward the forest.
"Lead."
She stepped forward.
Likath stretched lazily, flames flickering.
"You humans are strange. You don't know the way… and still pretend you do."
Then he lifted his head with exaggerated pride.
"Follow me, you ugly creatures."
Both of them ignored him with impressive coordination.
---
They moved carefully between the massive tree trunks, dim light filtering down like something watching from above.
Then—
Rolin stopped.
He crouched slightly, fingers brushing the damp soil.
Claw marks.
Fresh.
Likath sniffed the air, his flames twitching.
"Recent."
Rolin spoke without turning: "Left. A wolf pack passed through not long ago."
Selen glanced the other way.
"And the right?"
"No scent."
A pause.
"Clear."
They took the right path.
---
Hours later, as the glow of the trees shifted into something dimmer, a small cave appeared between two leaning rocks.
Rolin checked it first.
Dark.
Dry.
No scent of blood.
He nodded.
They entered.
"We stay here for two days," he said calmly, removing his pack.
Selen raised a brow.
"Why?"
"The surge."
She frowned. "What's that?"
He sat near the entrance, eyes on the forest.
"The monsters in this forest disappear for a while. They go deeper."
A brief pause.
"Then they come back. All at once."
Now she was paying attention.
"That happens regularly?"
"Not exactly. But it's noticeable."
He gestured toward the trees.
"When most of them vanish—I call it the withdrawal."
Then he looked at her.
"When they all return in a short span… that's the surge."
Silence settled in the cave.
Even Likath dimmed his flames.
"And we're…" Selen said slowly.
"At the start of it."
Rolin nodded.
A chill crept up her arms.
"So the forest is about to get crowded."
"Yes."
"And you want to wait it out."
"Exactly."
She hesitated.
"…How many times have you survived a surge?"
Rolin stared outside, his voice calm in a way that wasn't reassuring.
"Once."
Her brows lifted.
"Only once?"
"It was enough."
She exchanged a glance with Likath.
The flaming wolf stretched, as if recalling a fond memory.
"It was fun."
She looked at him sharply. "Fun?"
His flames curved—almost like a grin.
"From my perspective."
Selen exhaled and sat on a rock inside the cave.
"So… two days of waiting."
"Yes."
"And after that? You have a plan?"
Rolin paused.
Then:
"Yes."
He didn't elaborate.
He didn't need to.
Something in his tone…
Wasn't comforting.
---
Outside—
A sound.
Distant.
Then another.
Then many.
Howls.
Not one.
Movement.
Not one thing.
The trees trembled.
The shadows shifted.
And the forest—
began to wake.
Slowly.
Heavily.
Hungrily.
The surge had begun.