Selen looked at Rolin with hesitation.
It wasn't a normal look.
There was something burning behind her eyes—something restrained, something she refused to let surface.
She hesitated, as if the words themselves weighed heavily on her tongue.
Then, finally—
"Do you have… a spare weapon?"
Silence settled between them.
Rolin didn't answer immediately.
He simply looked at her—calm, cold, unmoving.
Not judging the question…
but what lay beneath it.
Need.
Pride.
And something sharper.
Then, inwardly, he exhaled.
Losses… and more losses.
He reached for his small bag.
A bag that wasn't small at all.
A silent world… swallowing everything placed inside it.
He opened it.
For a brief moment, a thread of darkness flickered within—as if the void itself breathed.
Then—
he pulled out a sword.
Medium length.
Simple design.
A clean blade, free of unnecessary decoration.
A practical weapon.
The one Latifia had given him.
He paused.
Just for a second.
Looking at it.
Of course… not that one.
The other sword crossed his mind—
that artifact.
"Light of the Sky."
A blade he couldn't use.
Not yet.
But he wasn't a fool.
Even if I can't use it now… I'll learn.
Or sell it.
And its price alone… would be enough for the rest of my life.
A faint, cold smile touched his lips.
Nothing in this world is worthless… except those who think it is.
He looked back at Selen.
Then—
without warning—
he threw the sword.
It cut through the air in a straight line, reflecting the dim firelight for a brief instant.
Selen reacted instantly.
Her hand shot out—
and caught it cleanly.
No hesitation.
No fumble.
Her grip was precise.
Steady.
She froze for a moment.
Looking at the blade in her hands.
Then—
her grip tightened.
"…."
She said nothing.
But her eyes—
changed.
That flicker of hesitation vanished.
Replaced by something else.
Focus.
Sharpness.
Rolin spoke calmly:
"Don't break it."
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
"Don't worry."
Then he added, just as cold:
"And if you die… I'm taking it back."
A pause.
Then—
Selen smiled.
A faint smile.
Barely there.
"If I die… you won't need it."
Likath, who had been watching in silence, let out a low chuckle. His flames flickered mischievously.
"Oh… you're getting along now."
Rolin shot him a narrow look.
"Shut up."
But this time—
the silence that followed wasn't the same.
It wasn't just tension.
It was preparation.
Three individuals.
Each carrying something different.
And yet—
for some reason—
moving in the same direction.
They sat in heavy silence.
No words.
No movement.
Only steady breathing… and slowing heartbeats after hours of strain.
Likath's dim glow barely outlined their forms.
Their shadows stretched along the walls like distorted specters.
Weak.
Not enough for them.
But—
enough for something else.
"Grrrrrr…"
A low, rough growl crawled out of the darkness.
Selen froze.
Her grip tightened around the sword.
Her eyes widened slightly, searching for the source.
Rolin didn't move.
He only raised his head—slowly.
One glance.
That was enough.
Likath instinctively dimmed his flames—
realizing too late.
Too late.
A step.
Then another.
Then—
more.
Claws scraping against stone.
Heavy breathing.
Multiple.
Everywhere.
Selen exhaled quietly.
"…Great."
Likath muttered, annoyed:
"Seems my charming glow has fans."
Rolin's voice cut through the darkness—
cold.
"Put it out."
For a brief second, Likath hesitated.
Then—
the flames died.
Darkness swallowed everything.
But the sounds didn't stop.
They grew closer.
From the left—
quick footsteps.
From behind—
something dragging.
From above—
a faint tap.
Something crawling along the ceiling.
Selen inhaled slowly.
"How many…?"
Rolin answered without seeing them:
"A lot."
A pause.
"…More than we need."
Likath's grin was heard, not seen.
"Do we run?"
Chains slid into Rolin's hands with a soft metallic whisper.
"No."
A beat.
Then—
a small, dark smile.
"They came to us."
In the darkness—
eyes appeared.
One.
Two.
Then dozens.
Surrounding them.
Closing in.
Hunger radiating from every direction.
Even the forest seemed to watch…
waiting.
Rolin moved first.
A chain lashed forward—
a sharp arc slicing through the dark like a hunting serpent.
Shraak!
It struck something.
A wet crack followed.
A body collapsed.
But—
it wasn't enough.
Not even close.
"Likath—fire!"
The world ignited.
Crimson flames erupted violently from Likath, flooding the area in an instant.
Shadows vanished.
Reality revealed itself.
Dozens.
No—
more.
Hyenas.
But wrong.
Twisted.
Their bodies deformed, jagged spikes protruding like exposed bone through thick black fur.
Their eyes burned red with hunger.
Their tails—
long, warped…
moving independently.
Alive.
Their jaws hung open.
Teeth bared.
Not snarling.
Smiling.
Selen raised her sword.
"…This will be a long night."
Likath laughed—wild, burning.
"Oh no…"
His flames surged higher.
"This will be fun."
Rolin didn't smile.
Chains tightened.
Eyes narrowed.
Distances calculated.
Angles measured.
Then—
he moved.
He exploded forward.
A chain shot out—
wrapping around a hyena's neck mid-lunge.
He pulled—
hard.
Crack!
The spine snapped instantly.
Before it hit the ground—
another chain flew.
Shraak!
It pierced through a second beast's eye, dragging it sideways into a third.
Bodies collided.
Openings formed.
He stepped in—
dagger up—
thrust.
Clean.
Efficient.
No wasted motion.
On the other side—
Selen moved.
Sharp.
Precise.
A hyena lunged—
she pivoted just enough to avoid its jaws—
then drove her blade between its ribs.
As she pulled back—
the spikes shifted.
Clamping.
Trying to trap the blade.
"Damn—!"
She twisted, yanking it free just in time.
A tail shot toward her throat.
She ducked.
Felt the air tear above her skin.
Too close.
From above—
another dropped.
Jaws wide.
BOOOOM!
Fire intercepted it mid-air.
Likath tore through it, flames bursting outward as he bit down.
The creature hit the ground burning, writhing.
"Watch the tails!" Likath snapped.
"They move on their own!"
Right as he said it—
a detached tail lunged at Rolin like a spear.
He twisted—
barely avoiding it.
Then caught it with his chain.
Pulled.
Hard.
The hyena attached to it stumbled forward—
exposed.
"Got you."
Shraak!
His dagger drove upward through its jaw.
But more came.
Relentless.
From every direction.
Their numbers didn't drop.
They shifted.
Replaced.
Adapted.
Selen breathed steadily, scanning.
"They're not decreasing—"
"They're replacing," Rolin replied coldly.
A beat.
Then she understood.
"…So it won't end?"
Likath laughed through the flames.
"Welcome to the forest."
He lunged again, fire exploding outward.
"You don't fight to win here—"
BOOOOM!
A wave of fire obliterated a cluster.
"…you fight to survive."
Selen stepped back once.
Then tightened her grip.
Her eyes sharpened.
"Good."
She lowered her stance.
"Then… let's grow tonight."
Rolin smiled.
A thin, dangerous curve.
"That's the point."
The battle intensified.
Chains whistled like steel storms.
Fire roared, devouring anything that lingered.
Blades flashed in tight, lethal arcs.
Rolin moved like a machine.
Every strike calculated.
Every motion purposeful.
Selen adapted rapidly.
Her hesitation vanished.
Her movements sharpened with each exchange.
Likath became chaos incarnate—
a living inferno tearing through the battlefield.
But still—
they came.
And deep within the forest—
beyond flame…
beyond steel…
something watched.
Silent.
Patient.
Measuring.
Not the battle—
but them.
Waiting.
To see—
who would fall.
And who…
would become something worse.