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The Outer Lands never slept.
Even when the wind was still and the ash lay undisturbed, something watched.
Maxmilian Strauss knew this better than anyone.
He moved forward with measured steps, boots pressing into cracked earth stained dark by old blood. His sword was already drawn—not raised, not tense, but ready. The kind of readiness that came from repetition, not fear.
A low growl cut through the silence.
Maxmilian didn't stop.
The demon lunged from behind a broken stone ridge, its body long and twisted, skin stretched tight over sinew and bone. Its mouth opened wider than it should have, revealing rows of uneven teeth slick with saliva.
One clean step to the side.
Steel flashed.
The demon collapsed before its claws ever touched him.
Maxmilian exhaled once and kept moving.
Another presence emerged minutes later—smaller, faster. It circled him, testing.
This one took longer. It always did.
A shallow cut to slow it. A feint. Then a decisive strike through the neck.
Two demons down.
Routine.
He wiped his blade on the ground, eyes scanning the horizon. The sky above the Outer Lands churned in dull gray layers, heavy and oppressive. No birds. No insects.
Then—
Something was wrong.
Not danger. Not movement.
Stillness.
Maxmilian frowned.
Ahead, near the shadow of a dead tree, something small lay on the ground.
He approached slowly.
A child.
The boy couldn't have been older than seven. Thin. Dirty. Clothes torn and patched in ways that suggested long-term wear, not a single accident. Dark hair fell over his face as he slept on bare ground, completely exposed.
In the Outer Lands.
Maxmilian's grip tightened.
No child survived here.
Not alone.
Not sleeping.
His eyes moved instinctively—searching for traps, hidden demons, signs of illusion. He saw none.
Still, he didn't lower his guard.
As he stepped closer, something shifted.
A wooden stick—no, a crude staff—resting beside the boy lifted slightly from the ground, angling itself forward.
Pointed directly at Maxmilian's chest.
He froze.
His instincts screamed.
The boy didn't stir. His breathing remained slow, steady. Deep sleep.
Yet the stick remained raised.
Maxmilian took one step back.
The staff followed.
Not aggressively.
Not violently.
Defensively.
"…Interesting," Maxmilian murmured.
He lowered his sword slowly and crouched, keeping his distance. "Boy," he said, firm but calm. "Wake up."
No response.
He tossed a small pebble near the child's head.
Nothing.
Only when Maxmilian lightly tapped the ground with his boot did the boy finally stir. His eyes snapped open instantly—alert, sharp, already focused.
The wooden stick dropped back to the ground.
The boy stared at him.
No fear.
No confusion.
Only calculation.
Maxmilian straightened slightly. "What's your name?"
The boy hesitated, fingers tightening around the stick.
"…Voryn."
"That all you remember? Your family name?" Maxmilian asked.
Voryn said nothing.
Maxmilian nodded once, accepting the silence. "You shouldn't be here."
"I know but..,"Voryn replied quietly.
Awkward pause
That alone unsettled him.
Maxmilian stood. "I'm moving deeper. If you stay here more, you die."
Voryn looked past him, toward the horizon. "I was going to move too."
Another red flag.
Maxmilian turned and began walking.
After a few seconds, footsteps followed.
He didn't look back.
---
They moved together in silence.
Maxmilian remained alert—not just to demons, but to the boy. Voryn walked lightly, instinctively avoiding unstable ground, broken bones, sharp stones. No wasted movement.
Survival behavior.
They gathered fruits from a twisted tree that grew unnaturally in the Outer Lands—safe to eat, if prepared correctly. Voryn knew which ones to avoid.
That bothered Maxmilian more than it should have.
The attack came without warning.
Two demons burst from opposite sides, coordinated. One fast, one heavy.
Maxmilian reacted instantly.
He drove his blade through the faster one's shoulder, pivoted, and kicked the heavy demon back—but not far enough.
A third presence emerged behind him.
Too close.
Maxmilian felt it. He turned—but his sword was mid-swing, his footing compromised.
This was the moment every hunter recognized.
The moment you miscalculated.
The third demon raised its claw.
A sharp crack echoed.
Pebbles struck the demon's head—small, harmless, but enough to draw its attention.
It snarled and turned toward the sound.
Up in the dead tree, Voryn clung to a branch, breathing hard, hands shaking as he hurled another stone.
"Get down!" Maxmilian shouted.
The demon moved toward the tree.
Maxmilian didn't waste the opening.
He finished the first demon with a brutal thrust, spun, and drove his blade deep into the second's chest. It screamed, staggered—but didn't fall.
The third demon reached the tree and struck it, splintering bark.
The branch snapped.
Voryn fell.
He hit the demon's back hard, the air knocked from his lungs. His small dagger slipped from his grasp, clattering uselessly.
The demon roared, throwing him off violently.
Voryn rolled across the ground, coughing, pain flooding his body.
Maxmilian surged forward.
He cut the second demon down completely, then turned just as the third raised its claw again.
Voryn, desperate, crawled toward his fallen dagger.
The demon lunged—
Maxmilian drove his sword through its leg, pinning it briefly.
"Now!" he shouted, not knowing why.
Voryn grabbed the dagger with trembling hands.
He didn't leap.
He didn't shout.
He simply drove the blade upward into a soft gap beneath the demon's jaw as it thrashed.
Luck.
Desperation.
Perfect timing.
The demon convulsed once… then went still.
Silence returned.
Maxmilian stood frozen, chest heaving.
Voryn sat on the ground, staring at his blood-covered hands.
"I didn't mean to do—" he started, then stopped.
Maxmilian knelt beside him.
"You did what you had to," he said quietly.
He studied the boy closely now—no awe, no praise.
Only concern.
"You shouldn't have survived this long," Maxmilian added.
Voryn looked away. "I didn't want to die. I want to..."
Awkward pause again
That was answer enough.
As thunder rumbled faintly in the distance, Maxmilian rose.
"Come with me ," he said. "Not because it's safe. But because it's safer than here."
Voryn firstly just looked for a moment than nodded.
Behind them, the Outer Lands watched in silence.
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