The Next Day
Jordan awoke to the soft rustling of leaves and the distant calls of birds. His body still ached, but it wasn't the deep, bone-weary exhaustion he had expected. Instead, it was a dull soreness, like the remnants of a hard workout.
He ran a hand through his hair, which now fell just past his shoulders. His fingers traced the faint scars left by the dire wolves, reminders of how close he had come to death. Despite that, he felt… stronger. More alert.
As he stood, stretching out his limbs, he felt the knife at his side pulse faintly. It was different now—not just in appearance but in how it felt in his grip. A natural extension of himself.
"You're changing me," he thought, gripping the handle. "But into what?"
Shaking the thought away, he grabbed his gear. If he was going to survive in this world, he needed to push forward. And that meant understanding what was going on with the goblins, the wolves, and—most importantly—the strange ring in his possession.
---
The forest felt different today. The silence was heavier. The air carried a tension that made the hairs on Jordan's arms stand on end.
As he walked, his eyes flickered to markings on the trees—deeply carved symbols that looked old, worn by time but still carrying an eerie presence. He paused, tracing one with his fingers. It wasn't just random scratches. It was language.
And somehow, he almost understood it.
A dull pulse ran through the ring in his pocket. Jordan pulled it out, holding it between his fingers. The moment he did, the whispers returned—soft, unintelligible words in the back of his mind. He clenched his jaw and shoved it back into his pocket.
"Not now."
He continued forward until he stumbled upon something unexpected.
A structure, half-buried in moss and dirt, hidden beneath the dense foliage. Stone walls, cracked and broken, formed what might have once been a small temple or outpost. But it wasn't just time that had ruined it—there were clear signs of battle.
Blood splattered across the stone. Broken weapons—goblin-made—scattered on the ground. Claw marks dug deep into the walls.
And among the ruins… bodies.
Jordan crouched beside one, a goblin corpse torn apart in a way that seemed almost surgical. Bite marks lined its body, but not from wolves. These were smaller, sharper—almost human.
"Something else was here."
As he stood, movement caught his eye. A flicker of shadow just beyond the ruins. He turned sharply, knife in hand, heart pounding.
Silence.
Then, a whisper—real this time, not in his head.
"You shouldn't have come here."
Jordan barely had time to react before something lunged at him from the darkness.
A Sudden Attack
Jordan barely had time to raise his knife before the figure was upon him. A blur of tattered robes and unnaturally fast movements. His instincts screamed danger, and he twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the strike.
A dagger flashed in the dim light, slashing where his throat had been just moments before. Jordan staggered back, heart pounding, and finally got a good look at his attacker.
It was humanoid but… wrong. Its limbs were too thin, its skin a sickly gray, and its eyes—glowing faintly with a golden hue—held no humanity.
"Not a goblin. Not a wolf. What the hell is this?"
The creature didn't give him time to think. It lunged again, faster than anything he had fought before. Jordan ducked, barely avoiding another slash, and struck back with his knife. The blade met flesh, cutting into the creature's arm, but instead of recoiling in pain, it only tilted its head, as if studying him.
Then, it spoke.
"Interesting."
The voice was distorted, layered, like multiple people speaking at once. Jordan's grip tightened around his knife. He had fought goblins, wolves, even felt the unnatural pull of the ring's whispers. But this? This was something else entirely.
And he wasn't sure he was ready for it.
The creature's golden eyes narrowed. "You carry the ring."
Jordan tensed. How does it know about that?
"You are not marked," it continued, stepping forward. "Yet it responds to you."
Jordan instinctively took a step back, his free hand brushing against the ring in his pocket.
"Give it to me," the creature demanded, voice still layered with that unnatural distortion.
Jordan exhaled sharply. "Yeah, that's not happening."
The creature smiled. It was an awful thing—too wide, too inhuman.
"Then you will die."
It lunged again, and Jordan braced himself.
---
Meanwhile
Back in the capital, Elysia stood before a large map laid out across the war table. Markings indicated where each of the goblin attacks had taken place.
Three separate ambushes. All within the same region.
Sir Cedric, still bandaged from his injuries, pointed at the most recent attack. "This one worries me the most. The goblins weren't just attacking caravans this time. They were searching for something."
"Or someone," Elysia murmured.
The council chamber was tense. Lord Harwin frowned. "You think this is targeted?"
"I don't just think," she said, "I know."
The pieces were falling into place. Goblins acting in ways that defied their nature. Ambushes in areas they had no business being in. And now rumors—whispers in the underground—that something darker was stirring in the forests beyond their borders.
Something old.
Elysia clenched her jaw. If someone was manipulating the goblins, if something was pushing them into these attacks… then they weren't just dealing with random skirmishes anymore.
They were dealing with a war in the making.
And if they didn't act soon, their entire kingdom would be shaken to its core.
Elysia's fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of her chair as the discussion stretched on. Reports of increased goblin activity piled before her, each one detailing the strange, almost coordinated assaults near their borders.
Her father's absence weighed heavily on her shoulders. Every decision made now would shape the kingdom's response, yet uncertainty clouded the room.
"We should send an envoy to Duke Valemont," one councilman suggested. "If these attacks are escalating, we need his forces ready should war break out."
Sir Cedric, his face still pale from his wounds, scoffed. "And what do we tell him? That goblins, of all things, are strategizing? He'll laugh in our faces and refuse to mobilize."
Elysia sighed. "Regardless, we must investigate further before making such a request. If the goblins are being led, we need to know by who—and why."
A murmur of agreement spread through the council. Elysia clenched her jaw. A storm was brewing, she could feel it. And if they didn't act fast, it would consume them all.
---
Jordan's breath came in ragged gasps as he barely ducked under another vicious slash. His opponent—a hunched, humanoid figure cloaked in shifting shadows—moved like a phantom, its blade an extension of its will.
His muscles ached, exhaustion weighing him down, but he couldn't afford to slow. He had landed some blows, but his opponent barely seemed affected. Whatever it was, it wasn't human.
Damn it. His vision blurred for a second before he forced himself to refocus. His knife pulsed faintly, as if urging him forward.
The creature lunged again. This time, Jordan met it head-on, sidestepping at the last moment and driving his knife toward its side. But instead of flesh, his blade struck something hard—like armor woven from darkness itself.
A wicked grin formed on the creature's shadowed face.
Jordan had a single second to react before a brutal knee slammed into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. He stumbled back, barely staying on his feet as his ribs throbbed in protest.
I can't keep this up.
His opponent rushed in for the kill.
Move.
With sheer desperation, Jordan let his instincts take over. He ducked low, rolling beneath the strike, and as he came up, his knife burned hot in his grip. Without thinking, he drove it upward into the creature's chest.
For a split second, nothing happened.
Then the knife pulsed—a bright, silvery glow spreading from the blade and into the creature's body.
The shadowy figure froze. A distorted, inhuman screech tore through the air as cracks of light spread across its form. It writhed, trying to pull away, but Jordan held firm, twisting the knife deeper.
With one final, agonized shriek, the creature shattered, dissolving into wisps of darkness that scattered into the night.
Jordan staggered back, barely able to keep himself upright. His entire body ached, and his vision swam. He glanced down at his knife—its glow dimming, but something about it felt… stronger.
Whatever just happened, the blade had changed again.
But he didn't have time to dwell on it. If that thing wasn't alone, he needed to get out of here now.
Gripping his side, Jordan forced himself forward, disappearing into the trees.
---
The doors to the chamber burst open, a guard panting as he strode in. "A messenger has arrived from the border! Urgent news, my lady!"
Elysia straightened, her heart pounding. "Let him in."
A weary rider stepped forward, his face grim. "A new sighting. Something unnatural. A lone survivor claims he witnessed… a creature of shadows."
The council murmured in alarm.
Elysia's hands clenched into fists. The pieces were falling into place.
And she didn't like the picture they were forming.
Elysia kept her face impassive, though her mind was already racing. A creature of shadows? That was no mere goblin trick.
"Tell me everything," she commanded, her voice steady despite the unease creeping into her chest.
The messenger took a breath, steadying himself. "The survivor—a scout—was patrolling near the eastern forest when he came across a massacre. Goblins, all slaughtered, but not by knights or soldiers. He said their bodies bore no ordinary wounds. Some looked like they had been…drained."
A ripple of tension spread through the room.
"Drained?" Lord Harwin leaned forward, his expression darkening. "Are you saying something fed on them?"
The messenger hesitated before nodding. "That is what the scout believes. But that wasn't the worst of it." He swallowed. "He wasn't alone in the area. He saw someone…a lone figure fighting against a creature he swears was made of darkness itself. The fight was brutal, and by the time he got close enough to see clearly, the figure struck the final blow. The shadow creature shattered into nothingness, and then—"
"Then what?" Elysia urged, her pulse quickening.
"The man collapsed. But before the scout could approach, he vanished into the forest. He moved like he was wounded, but still alive."
Elysia exhaled, absorbing the information. A lone fighter, powerful enough to destroy something unnatural? And the goblins—why were they part of this? If this was connected to the ambushes, then something far worse was at play.
She turned to her council. "Thoughts?"
Lord Harwin spoke first. "This is beyond goblin raids. If creatures of shadow are appearing, we need to consider the possibility of a sorcerer—or worse."
Sir Cedric frowned. "The scout described a lone warrior. Whoever they are, they're either a fool or someone dangerous."
Elysia nodded, then turned back to the messenger. "Did the scout describe the man? Anything specific?"
"Only that he wasn't dressed like a knight or noble. He was rough-looking—like a wanderer. His weapon was a dagger, but it glowed before he killed the creature."
Elysia stiffened.
A dagger? A glowing dagger?
Her mind flashed back to that night—the chaos, the blood, and the boy who had saved her. He had fought with nothing but a dagger, moving with sharp efficiency, taking down goblins like he had been born to fight.
Jordan.
It had to be him.
She forced her expression to remain neutral, but her thoughts were frantic. She hadn't seen him since that day, hadn't even known if he was alive. Now, he was out there, fighting alone against these shadowed horrors?
Her hands tightened into fists beneath the table.
She rose from her chair. "Send word to our best trackers. I want this man found—but carefully. If he truly destroyed such a creature alone, we must know who he is and why he was there."
The council murmured in agreement.
Elysia's thoughts swirled as the meeting adjourned.
Jordan… what have you gotten yourself into?