Eiran fell asleep before the song truly ended.
Not because he was bored.
Not because exhaustion finally claimed him.
He fell asleep because, for the first time since leaving Loxra, his chest felt… calm.
The campfire had faded into lazy red embers. The forest reclaimed the night—crickets chirring, leaves brushing against one another, the wind slipping between the ancient roots of The Oldreach. Ruen had already fallen asleep earlier, his back resting against a pack, a faint smile still lingering on his face, as if the song continued quietly inside his head.
Kael did not sleep.
He sat a short distance from the fire, back straight, eyes fixed on the darkness between the trees. He wasn't tense. He wasn't relaxed. He was simply… present.
"Small movements," he murmured.
Sereth, sitting cross-legged while studying a crude map drawn into the dirt, nodded without looking up.
"Two. Maybe three. Keeping their distance."
"Not attacking yet," Lys added, idly spinning a dagger around one finger. "Just watching."
Bram snorted softly.
"If they're waiting, they're stupid."
Varek closed his rosary and stood.
"Or hungry."
Kael rose without a sound, careful not to wake anyone.
"We move at dawn. Light formation. Don't chase too far."
"Mid zone," Sereth said. "An area that still thinks it's safe."
Kael nodded.
"That's exactly why it's dangerous."
Morning arrived without drama.
A thin mist clung to the forest floor, low enough to blur distance but not thick enough to hide movement. This part of The Oldreach felt… tame. No crushing pressure. No oppressive silence.
Eiran walked while yawning, still half-asleep.
"It feels… normal," he muttered.
Ruen nodded.
"Like an ordinary forest."
Bram lightly tapped Eiran's head.
"That's the warning sign, kid."
Arnold pushed the supply cart forward, its wheels creaking softly.
"A forest that's too quiet is usually setting up a bad joke."
Less than fifty steps from their old campsite, Nox stopped.
He raised a hand—small, almost invisible.
Everyone halted.
No shouted orders.
No loud signals.
Only instinct, moving as one.
"Goblins," Nox whispered. "A lot. Disorganized."
"And…" Cale tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Wolves. Not the same ones as before."
"Monster wolves," Ivo muttered. "Three. Maybe four."
Kael took a short breath.
"Alright."
That was all.
No speech.
No elaborate preparation.
The goblins surged out like a small flood—thin bodies clutching crude weapons, eyes shining with hunger and reckless courage. Behind them, the monster wolves emerged from the undergrowth, shoulders as tall as a grown man's chest, dull fur bristling, fangs bared.
Eiran held his breath.
There were… so many.
Then the world moved.
Bram charged first.
His twin axes spun as if they were extensions of his arms. He didn't shout. Didn't roar. He simply entered—and the first goblin was hurled aside, its body slamming into a tree before it could even scream.
"Daren, left!"
"Already on it!"
Daren moved low, light on his feet, his blade sweeping across a goblin's knees with near-cruel precision. He chuckled.
"Seriously? This is warm-up?"
Elden advanced without haste, his massive shield smashing into the first wolf's snout. The impact sounded like wood crashing against stone. The beast staggered—then Kareth's spear pierced clean through its neck from the side.
"Don't stop," Kareth said flatly. "Second group coming."
Ivo slipped through the shadows, twin blades dancing. His movements weren't flashy. Not wide. Goblins simply… collapsed, one after another, as if tripping over something invisible.
Lys leapt onto a low branch, then spun back down in a fluid motion, daggers flashing.
"Boring~"
Sereth stood behind them all, voice calm.
"Ten meters. Two from the right. Don't chase the retreating ones."
Nox was already gone.
Cale exhaled and loosed a single arrow. Just one.
The goblin trying to flee dropped without a sound.
Arnold stopped pushing the cart and picked up a short staff.
"Oh dear," he said casually. "I was just getting into exercise mode."
He struck a goblin that wandered too close—not hard, just right. The creature collapsed unconscious.
Eiran stood frozen.
He wasn't watching a battle.
He was watching… practice.
No panic.
No frantic shouting.
Even when the final monster wolf lunged toward Kael—
Kael was no longer there.
He appeared behind the beast, one hand striking the back of its neck. The wolf crumpled like an empty sack.
Silence.
Eiran realized he'd been holding his breath far too long.
"Uh…" Daren sheathed his sword. "That was… fast."
Bram wiped his axes.
"I didn't even break a sweat."
Lys sighed dramatically.
"I was hoping for at least a little excitement."
Sereth studied the ground, then the forest beyond.
"No coordinated retreat. No intelligent pursuit."
Kael stepped into the center, looking over the bodies.
"Mid zone," he said quietly. "There shouldn't be this many here."
Ruen swallowed.
"You… handled that so easily."
Bram glanced at him.
"Eyes closed, we could still do it."
Eiran finally spoke, his voice small but filled with awe.
"How strong… are you really?"
No one answered immediately.
Ivo gave a faint grin.
"Strong enough to be ignored."
Elden tapped his shield.
"And dumb enough to keep walking."
Eiran hesitated, then turned toward Daren, who was casually cleaning his blade as if nothing had happened.
"Daren," he said, nervous but sincere,
"that sword technique… it was amazing."
Ruen nodded quickly.
"Yeah. Please teach us."
Daren paused.
Then burst out laughing.
"HAHAHA!"
He ruffled Eiran's hair without warning.
"You're way too early, kid."
"Ten years," he added with a grin,
"and that's just enough time to start getting confused."
Eiran frowned.
"Ten years?"
Daren shrugged.
"If you're still alive by then."
Bram laughed from the side.
"Optimistic."
Daren stared ahead, his smile no longer entirely joking.
"This style isn't about strength," he said lightly.
"It's about how long you can stand… after everyone else has fallen."
Eiran fell silent.
Not discouraged.
If anything… more determined.
Kael turned his gaze toward the deeper forest—darker, denser.
"This is only the edge," he said calmly.
"Don't misunderstand."
"If this feels easy," he continued evenly,
"it's because the forest hasn't taken us seriously yet."
The wind whispered through the leaves.
Branches stirred.
And far above—among ancient limbs no one thought to watch—stone eyes slowly opened.
The gargoyle remained still.
Observing.
Memorizing.
Below, the twelve continued forward, unaware that the game had already begun…
to notice them.