The night was heavy like a black blanket, pierced only by the small fires of the bandits camped in the forest. The cold wind carried the scent of ash, sweat, and old blood. Sounds of crude laughter mixed with stifled sobs coming from the prisoner wagons.
Lloyd stood on a high branch, his breath quick but his eyes narrowed in focus. He whispered to himself: –"If I don't stop them now... no one will. But I must be silent as a shadow... lethal as a knife."
He closed his eyes for a moment, summoning the Qi. A current of energy rushed through his veins, like ice and fire simultaneously. The sounds of the night became clear: the men's heavy breathing, the friction of swords in their scabbards, the sound of sweat dripping from their chins.
Lloyd smiled with a cold lightness: –"I see everything... this is my chance."
The Hunt Begins
He descended from the branch lightly, like a shadow separating from the darkness. He approached the first man, sitting lazily and holding his pipe. In a single moment, his breath was cut off forever by a sharp line from Lloyd's dagger. Blood spurted in an arc, and Lloyd quickly dragged the body behind a tree. –"One..." he whispered coldly.
He moved to the second, who was staring at his sword blade and singing. Lloyd's dagger pierced his side then swept around his neck; the head rolled and blood stained the ground. –"Two..."
The third turned around terrified: – "W-who's there?!" But a flying dagger pierced his throat. His voice turned into a gurgle, and he fell to the ground. –"Three..."
Lloyd's heart beat violently, but the world around him slowed down. Every movement, every gasp, every fly hovering around the fire became clear.
He advanced towards the four sitting around the fire. In one attacking moment: he stabbed the first in the chest until the blade came out his back and pushed him towards the fire, the flames devouring him. The other tried to rise, but his leg broke with a kick, and his scream mixed with the sound of Lloyd plunging the dagger into his eye.
The third ran to escape, but Lloyd jumped on him and rained down successive stabs, each blow making a monotonous, horrifying sound. At the fifteenth stab, the heart stopped.
Only the last one remained, his face pale, raising his sword while trembling: – "W-what in hell are you?!"
Lloyd approached with slow steps, his eyes gleaming in the firelight, his voice cold: –"I am... vengeance."
The man screamed and charged, but Lloyd bent down and delivered a sideways strike. The head flew high, blood scattered like rain, and silence prevailed.
Lloyd stood among the corpses, his breath ragged, his hands trembling. But he smiled a faint smile: –"It's over..."
The Captives
He opened the wagon door filled with demi-humans. Terrified eyes stared at him. His blood-stained appearance made them think he was another monster. He said in a faint voice:– "Don't be afraid... I came to help you."
A small child cried: – "E-everyone... died..."
Lloyd gritted his teeth and said: – "No one will harm you anymore. I swear."
Return to the Village
When he returned with them, the villagers received him with tense faces, their eyes between gratitude and fear. Lloyd raised his hands:– "I brought your people back safely. Sorry... sorry I didn't arrive sooner."
The Elder placed his hand on his shoulder: – "Thank you, my son... without you, we'd be ashes."
And before Lloyd could respond... his stomach growled loudly. His face reddened: – "Sorry! I haven't eaten for three days..."
Everyone laughed. The Elder said smiling: – "Then tonight, a feast in your honor!"
The village that night turned into a square filled with lights and laughter, after a day that nearly ended in a massacre. Torches were lit in every corner, and flames from wood fires sent aromatic smoke mixing with the smell of roasted meat and strong spices. Children ran barefoot between the huts, laughing with a joy they hadn't felt in days.
Lloyd sat in the middle of the square on a rough deerskin rug, surrounded by men and women. They looked at him with curiosity mixed with admiration. At first, the atmosphere was tense, but over time the barrier began to melt.
One of the women placed a large bowl of soup in front of him, steam rising from it. She said shyly: –"You saved my daughter... please, taste from my hand first."
Lloyd blushed slightly, shyly took the spoon and sipped. The heat burned his tongue but he smiled saying: –"Mmm... it's delicious... thank you."
Light laughter rose from the seated women, and the girls he rescued started coming forward one after another. One of them, with short blond hair, sat beside him and whispered: –"You're scary when you fight... but now you look like a lost child."
Lloyd choked on his bite, almost coughing as he turned his face away: –"W-what?! I'm not a child!"
Everyone laughed, even the village elder struck the ground with his staff laughing: –"Leave him alone... he's a warrior with a child's face!"
The girls started competing to offer him food: one putting a piece of meat in his bowl, another offering him a roasted dough cake. One of them, a cat-girl with soft features and golden eyes, reached out to put food directly into his mouth. Lloyd froze, his face turning red like a tomato, then quickly turned his head away shouting: –"I-I can feed myself!!!"
The attendees laughed until their eyes teared up. But that girl smiled shyly and said: –"I was just... wanting to thank you in my own way."
Lloyd fell silent, then muttered in a voice barely audible: –"Thank you... but this is embarrassing."
Drum sounds rose, and some young men started dancing around the fire, their movements primitive but full of life. The children clung to Lloyd, one sitting on his lap, another holding his hand asking: –"How did you kill the bad guys? Did you hit them with a magic sword?!"
Lloyd smiled and patted his head: –"No... I was just a little faster than them."
But the children's eyes gleamed with admiration, they started imitating him while waving wooden sticks like swords.
One of the grandmothers approached, placed around his neck a necklace made of wolf claws and beads. She said in a majestic voice: –"From tonight, you will be a friend of the village. Your blood is our blood, and our home is your home."
Lloyd was shocked, his eyes widened slightly: –"A friend...?"
He whispered to himself as he looked around: "No one... has ever said that to me before..."
His heart trembled for a moment, he felt he belonged. But he soon put back his cold mask, bowed his head in respect, then Lloyd stood before them all and said to them in a serious voice, «You all know that the danger won't end. With all of your help, we will eliminate them.» Everyone looked at him hesitantly, but soon gathered their courage and said in one voice, «Yes, please lead us.»
As the hours passed, Lloyd's stomach filled with food until he felt it would burst. He lay on his back staring at the stars, his faint laughs mixing with the echo of songs.
The cat-girl approached again, sat beside him, looked at the sky with him and said: –"You know... when you first looked at us, I almost thought you were another demon. But now... you resemble the sky. Calm... but hiding something great."
Lloyd felt confused, but smiled a slight smile: –"Maybe... but I'm not the sky. I'm just a human trying to find his way."
A pleasant silence fell between them, broken only by the sound of the crackling fire.
And that night... Lloyd slept in a tent they prepared for him, while the whole village celebrated, and the hearts finally enjoyed some peace.
And Elsewhere...
Kane returned to the capital like one returning after a decisive battle — not with the return of a victor chanting triumph, but with the return of a leader burdened with a heavy price. The sky above Austeria was ash-gray, as if the city itself sensed the approaching storm. At the city gate, he was received by military figures and faces marked with anxiety and admiration alike; sounds of astonishment and welcome muffled under the beat on shields, and wounds not hidden by his cloak.
On the pavement, in a high place shrouded in shadow, stood another masked figure — but this time, he seemed to know Kane truly well — his face concealed by a black cloth, and his eyes gleaming like a cold dawn. He didn't step into the square, content to observe from afar, like one reading the end of a chapter and drawing the features of the next. A narrow smile formed on his lips when he saw Kane's soldiers dragging their flags pierced by fire, and saw in the commander's eyes that glow that didn't hide a desire to face him. The masked man whispered to himself with words only he could hear: «You survived this time... but the next time will bring your end.»
---
In the command palace, where battle maps were spread on a wide wooden table, the leaders gathered. Candle flames flickered on the edges of the map, and the air smelled of iron and smoke. Kane sat at the head of the table; his face visible under faint light, the lines of fatigue deepened, but his eyes still tempted confidence.
He uncovered the map of Karzol and the southern borders; ash remnants on the paper resembling the land's scars. He drew his sword and placed it on the table as a symbol of one truth: the decision wouldn't be cold slogans, but swords dripping blood.
He said in a low, sharp voice, filled with determination: –«They attacked us with triple our numbers. Fire was their weapon; fire and impulse. If we hadn't been ready for sacrifice and cunning, everything would have collapsed. But we survived — not because we are stronger in weapons, but because we knew where to strike and where to plant our feet. This time it won't be a slap in the face; we'll make it a lesson every gasp in these passages will remember.»
The intelligence commander stepped forward, a lean man with a sharp look, and said: –«Sir, intel shows the demons won't settle for one campaign. They are testing us; looking for gaps in supply lines, weak points in villages on supply routes. If these gaps aren't closed, they will repeat their strikes in more sensitive areas.»
Kane glanced at the map and pointed to thin lines drawn in pen: caravan routes, supply points, inspection points. Then he slowly raised his hand and said: «I know that, but we will prepare our reserves for the future.» He continued, saying: –«So our next plan is simple, but we'll execute it correctly: three axes — strategic defense, precise counterattacks, and civilian protection. Each axis has its team and weapons. We will control time, and make them attack when they don't expect it. Their strength — fire — depletes greatly if they have to advance through wet lands or humid nights. We will dry their reserves, cut their supplies, and reshape the battlefield as we desire.»
Kane began explaining the detailed items one after another:
1. Studied Ambushes –«We will create natural traps on main routes: hidden sand pits, trenches concealing sharp metal fragments underneath, and engineered trees to fall on convoys. Not just a trap — but a network. The idea is to squeeze the hordes into places that force them to extend their lines, then we precisely cut the spearhead.»
2. Cutting Supply Lines –«I don't mean direct confrontation with every battalion here. But rather striking their nightly storage, storming their hidden dens in Karzol and Nevalis, and igniting terror in their ranks by snatching their weapons before they reach the battlefield. Use light reconnaissance units; our next dawn must be a heavy burden on them.»
3. Civilian Shield –«Temporary fortifications in villages, clear evacuation lines, safe reception points. Train civilians on alarm signals, place in each village a small team of local recruits equipped with night vision and fire-suppression weapons. We don't want their fire's cruelty to defeat us by hitting weak villages.»
4. Anti-Fire Core Weapons –«We re-equip archers and armor with spark-resistant enhancers. We use mud spray and wet materials to repel fire waves, and work on field models to test before deployment. Each district will bear its responsibilities for securing emergency water.»
Map after map, plan after plan, Kane excelled at turning apparent weakness into strategy. Every suggestion led by temporal experience — insights that only come from those who wielded swords and lived to chart on tables. The leaders started asking detailed questions: How do we secure supplies? How do we create discovery camouflage? Every point received his decisive response, as if will was forged from his speech.
At that moment, over the distant hill, there was a single light — not a human fire: it was a distant glow rising. The masked man smiled, then covered his face with his cloak, and his final word was a whisper: –«Well then... we'll begin another chapter.»
✨ End of Chapter Eight