We moved cautiously, our eyes scanning every inch of the forest floor, searching for the safest and shortest route to the mountain's peak. The air grew colder—heavier with each step—as if the forest itself was trying to choke the hope out of us.
Then, like a whisper riding a cursed breeze, a voice slithered into our ears.
"Hey… why are you all so desperate? At least give us a chance to serve you."
We froze.
Our heartbeats spiked. Slowly, we turned—and there they were.
Bathed in eerie moonlight filtering through twisted branches stood the same man and woman who had threatened to kill us at the ritual ground. But now, they looked even more terrifying. It was as if the forest darkened just to welcome them.
A wave of rage crashed through me. My fists clenched before I could stop them. The dead bodies from that ritual ground replayed behind my eyes—lifeless stares, blood-soaked soil, cries that would never echo again. My breath caught, and fury swirled in my chest like a storm.
Before I could move, Akriya stepped forward. His red eyes burned like embers in the night. With a swift motion of his hand, thick vines erupted from the earth, hissing and snapping toward the intruders.
But they were faster.
With unnatural grace, they leapt onto a thick branch above, effortlessly dodging the attack. The man laughed, mocking.
"Time out, time out!" he called, waving his hand playfully. "Relax. We don't want to hurt you... yet."
His smugness made my blood boil.
Eran stepped forward, calm but firm. His voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Enough games. Who are you two?"
The strangers exchanged a glance. A smirk curled on the woman's lips.
With a dramatic bow, the man spoke, "You really don't know us? What a shame. I am Jargoth—the Doomweaver of the Shadow Syndicate."
The woman followed, her voice smooth as venom.
"And I am Evelyn Blackthorn, also of the Shadow Syndicate."
Eran narrowed his eyes. "Never heard of you."
Jargoth tilted his head, eyes wild.
"You must be joking. The Shadow Syndicate is known across the lands.
Eran didn't flinch. "Let's say we believe that. You said you don't want to hurt us. Then what do you want?"
The forest seemed to pause.
Jargoth clicked his tongue.
"Tch. You idiots always ruin the moment. I was trying to deliver a full dramatic monologue."
Then his smile twisted—wicked and hollow. Shadows curled around his feet like smoke.
"I said…" he growled, voice darkening like thunder,
"I don't want to hurt you…"
"I want to kill you."
The ground trembled faintly.
The trees around us creaked.
And for the first time in a long while… I felt fear crawl into my bones.
Then—Eran gripped his sword tighter.
Something changed.
His body began to radiate pressure, as if his aura was struggling to stay contained.
In an instant, his usual calm vanished. His expression sharpened into something dangerous—something inhuman. The very air around him warped beneath the weight of his presence.
"I think… you don't know me either," he said coldly.
His eyes lit up—burning like a furnace. The blade at his side began to glow, crimson light tracing along it like blood dripping from invisible wounds.
In that moment, Eran didn't look human.
He looked like something even demons would run from.
Every time he transforms like this, my heart starts pounding. It's hard to believe he's still the same Eran.
We instinctively stepped back, chests tight, hearts racing.
But Eran stepped forward—closer.
"Let's find out," he said, voice laced with cold fire, "who's going to die here."
The tension was suffocating. Even the trees seemed to flinch.
Jargoth chuckled darkly.
"Well, looks like I'm not the only dramatic one."
He turned to Evelyn and raised a brow. Without a word, she handed him a black wooden box, its surface carved with sinister runes.
Jargoth opened it.
Black smoke slithered out—alive and writhing. Shadow-like tendrils surged into his body, disappearing beneath his skin.
Then he dropped to his knees—screaming.
His body trembled violently. His eyes rolled back. Veins blackened and crept up his neck like a spreading curse. His face twisted—whether in agony or ecstasy, I couldn't tell.
"What's happening to him?!" I shouted.
Then… he stopped.
He rose slowly, shadows dripping off him like sweat.
His eyes—completely black.
His voice—no longer his.
"The wait is over…
The shadows of the Dark Forest… awaken."
He returned to his casual smirk—but the world had already changed.
The sky rumbled.
Thunder roared like war drums.
And then—it began to rain.
But not water.
Black droplets, thick and unnatural, splashed onto our skin like oil. Cold. Sticky. Unholy.
We stared in disbelief as the rain soaked the ground in shadow.
And something… had just crossed through it.