The Morning Rain Left
Rain slipped away a little after sunrise.
No explanations—just a quiet nod, a small smile, and the words:
"I have to go."
Aeralyn was the first to break the silence he left behind.
"He definitely ran away," she muttered, flicking her fan. "The kid pushed himself too hard."
Raelan shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first rookie to break."
Sora didn't comment, but his frown said enough.
Elunari, leaning on her staff, whispered, "No… that expression he had—it wasn't fear. It was certainty."
Rheos, the leader of the Black Ravens, crossed his arms. His obsidian armor clinked softly as he stared in the direction Rain had gone.
"…He's chasing something," Rheos said quietly. "A reason. A purpose."
The others looked at him.
"No one fights like that," Rheos continued, "unless they have a goal sharp enough to bleed for."
He turned away.
"He'll live."
Leaving them behind hurt more than I expected.
A week together shouldn't have meant so much… but it did.
Warmth is dangerous. It makes you want to stay.
But I couldn't.
I had come to the Frostveil Forest for a reason—one that couldn't wait.
The orcs.
The exam.
My future.
If I failed, everything ended here.
So I spent the day traveling through frost-bitten woods alone.
The silence felt heavier without the Ravens' chatter, Aeralyn's teasing, or Teralin's gentle fussing whenever I got scratched.
By noon, I reached a ridge overlooking a valley—and froze.
A colony.
Not a camp.
Not a group.
A full, living orc colony.
Dozens. Maybe hundreds.
Armored skin, hulking bodies, smoke rising from their fires, crude towers built from bone and wood.
A fortress.
My throat dried.
"I… can't take all of that," I whispered.
Storming in would be suicide.
No—worse.
Stupid.
I only needed one orc.
One core.
Proof.
But even one was beyond me.
Still… I sat.
Watched.
Studied.
Hours.
Then a day.
Their routines. Their guards. Their feeding patterns.
Their hunts.
Four days left.
My stomach churned with each passing hour.
What if no opportunity came?
What if I failed?
What if I died?
Then—finally.
An orc broke off from the group, lumbering into the woods with a crude spear slung across its back.
"Hunting," I muttered.
Or scouting.
Either way—alone.
This was my moment.
I followed silently, tree to tree, step to step. My breath froze in front of me. My heart slammed against my ribs.
Then—I leapt.
I dropped from a branch, pushing off it mid-air to gain speed, driving my blade toward the exposed back—
SHHK—
Too shallow.
Not deep enough.
The orc's flesh was like stone.
Its head snapped around.
A massive green hand clamped around my torso—
CRACK—!!
I was airborne.
Then—
BOOM—
My back slammed into a tree. Pain exploded across my body.
I coughed.
Blood.
"God… damnit…"
The orc roared—a sound that shook the snow from the branches above.
Was it calling for others?
"No. No, no, no—!"
I forced myself up.
It drew its axe.
Huge.
Heavy.
Death.
My fingers trembled around my sword.
Fear.
This… was fear.
Real, suffocating fear.
The orc charged.
I barely rolled aside, snow exploding beneath its strike. I counter-slashed its leg—shallow again.
Its muscles were too dense.
It swung back, downwards this time—fast—strong.
I jumped back but slipped on the snow—
Too late.
I had to block.
I raised my sword horizontally—
CLANG—!!
My entire body shook.
The axe pressed down like a mountain.
My arms screamed.
My knees buckled.
The ground cracked beneath my feet.
"Gh—!!"
I couldn't block it.
Not for long.
I adjusted my sword's angle—just barely—redirecting the axe.
The massive blade slid off mine and smashed into the ground—
FWOOM—!!
A gust of snow shot upward like a storm.
I staggered back, panting.
"One hit… and I'm dead…"
I needed a weakness.
Anywhere. Something.
Then—an idea.
Its mouth.
Soft. Vulnerable.
But I needed it to open wide.
I ran around it, shouting like an idiot.
"HEY! OVER HERE! YOU STUPID—GREEN—TREE TRUNK!"
The orc snarled, confused, spinning in circles.
Good.
I sprinted straight at it.
The axe came again—a wide horizontal slash.
I jumped, landing directly on top of the blade mid-swing—
The world spun.
I kicked off the axe, launching myself upward toward its face—
It roared.
Right. In. My. Face.
BWOOO—OM—!!
My ears burst. Warm blood oozed down my neck. My vision shook violently.
My mind slipped.
But I forced it back.
And thrust.
My sword drove into the inside of its mouth, up through the skull.
The orc stumbled—alive, barely.
I yelled, twisting the blade.
A full 360 degrees.
The upper half of its face tore apart.
Purple blood drenched me.
The orc fell.
I collapsed onto the snow, chest heaving.
I didn't feel cold anymore.
Just exhaustion.
But I forced myself up.
I stabbed into its chest, digging for the core—hands shaking.
There.
I pulled out the glowing ball.
Footsteps.
Shouts.
Orcs.
More of them.
I whistled—loud.
My white horse burst through the trees, snow kicking beneath its hooves.
"Come on! GO!"
I grabbed the reins and we sprinted.
Branches whipped past.
Roars echoed behind me.
But we didn't stop.
Not for hours.
Only when the trees thinned and the snow faded did I finally breathe again.
By nightfall, the forest was behind us.
Three days left.
I tightened my grip on the core.
"I… did it."
But this was only half the battle.
Getting back alive was the rest.