The forest changed the farther Abraham walked.
Trees stood taller here—twisted and pale, as if drained of life. The leaves had no color, only gray. Mist clung to the roots, rising in tendrils like ghosts searching for something they had lost.
He stopped at a stone pillar in the ground.
Carved in its surface were seven words.
**"Speak, and the forest speaks back."**
He narrowed his eyes. Behind the pillar, the path split into three winding trails, all leading into thicker mist.
"Trial Three," he whispered.
A breeze stirred. Then…
A voice.
Not from behind. Not ahead.
From **inside** the mist.
"You spoke."
He turned instantly, sword drawn.
But there was no one there.
His eyes darted across the trees. Stillness. Cold. Then another whisper came—this time, closer.
"One word… and they find you."
And then he saw it.
A **figure**, crouched behind the trunk of a dying tree.
No face.
No eyes.
A stitched mouth. Limbs too long. A body twitching like it was broken.
A **Silent One**.
Then another appeared.
And another.
Soon, Abraham was surrounded.
He gripped the sword tightly. He could feel the holy warmth pulsing through its core.
**But the trial had already begun.**
"Speak, and they find you."
They were drawn to sound.
One wrong step. One breath too loud.
He began to move, inch by inch.
The Silent Ones sniffed the air. Their heads twitched unnaturally, limbs dragging across the leaves with quiet, crackling tension.
One of them moved toward him. Slowly.
Abraham's foot pressed on a stick.
It cracked.
Instantly, the creature **screamed**—a horrific shriek without a mouth—and lunged.
Abraham dodged, rolled to the side, and **did not scream**.
The creature's claws missed his throat by inches.
Another came. And another.
Abraham raised the sword.
He couldn't risk drawing them with sound—so he fought **silently**.
Each swing of the blade burned through the mist with light. No war cry. No growl. Just fire and grace.
Slash.
Block.
Spin.
Bloodless, voiceless fury.
But they kept coming.
And his foot slipped.
His body hit the ground with a heavy **thud**.
That was enough.
All of them turned.
Twenty heads snapped toward him.
He froze.
They ran.
No choice.
Abraham **screamed** into the sky—
"COME, THEN!"
The moment his voice broke the silence, they attacked.
But in that same second, a shadow moved through the trees.
An arrow of golden light flew from the far ridge—striking the ground before him.
It exploded in a ring of light—sending the Silent Ones flying backward, shrieking in terror.
Abraham shielded his eyes, confused.
When the light cleared, the creatures were gone.
And across the trees, far beyond his reach…
A hooded figure stood for a single heartbeat.
Watching.
Protecting.
Then disappeared.
Abraham stared at the spot where they'd been.
He didn't know who they were.
But he **felt** it.
"It was you… wasn't it?"
He knelt, touched the scorched dirt where the arrow had hit, and closed his eyes.
"I'll keep going. I swear I'll become stronger."
---
Back in the X-Slayer Fortress, Sarah lowered her hand. Her bow of light faded.
The officer beside her didn't speak.
He knew something had happened.
But her face was unreadable.
"Should we report interference to the Council?" he asked.
Sarah turned away.
"Report what?"
He paused.
"...Nothing, ma'am."
She walked into the shadows of the command room, her voice cold and calm:
"He's passed Trial Three. Prepare the next."
---
End of Chapter 5