The first smoke bomb went off the moment Joaquin realized that for the past three days, Dave had been with them instead of scouting ahead.

  Jalut’s timing was perfect. He had consumed all the potions just in time to cover his approach. The second bomb should incapacitate his target by putting him to sleep. The other two were already dead, thanks to his precise shot from a small one-handed crossbow. Three heavily poisoned silver arrows had definitely taken care of them.

  With a calculated step, he entered the haze, his senses on high alert. A cold realization washed over him as he sniffed the air, detecting the absence of the metallic tang of blood that should have lingered after his successful ambush.

  Cursing under his breath, Jalut wasted no time. He dashed out of the dissipating smoke, his muscles coiled with tension as he pursued his escaping prey. Each stride propelled him forward with a desperate determination, his mind racing to catch up with the unexpected turn of events. Victory would not elude him. With every ounce of resolve, he sprinted into the unknown, ready to chase down his quarry and reclaim control of the situation.

  ???

  “Are you hurt?”

  Dave’s voice cut through the tense air as he set Red and Joaquin down. Red shook her head, her breath forming wispy clouds in the crisp air.

  “I’m fine. The cape did its job again. How about you?”

  “I dodged…”

  His gaze flicked to the pallid complexion of Joaquin, the subtle quiver of his form betraying his unease.

  “I—I’m fine,” the bard stuttered, his fingers trembling as they roamed over his own body, seeking reassurance amidst the looming threat.

  “He wasn’t aiming at you. Red,” Dave said, his eyes meeting her concerning gaze as she lifted her head. “You two should run. I will deal with him.”

  “You sound confident,” Jalut said in a bitter tone.

  Their collective senses heightened, attuned to the approaching danger. The rhythmic thud of heavy footsteps echoed through the stillness, each step resonating with a sinister intent. The towering figure emerged from the shadows, his lean, muscular frame exuding a menacing presence, his fists clenched around deadly knuckle-fist blades.

  Dave moved with purpose, positioning himself to shield both Red and Joaquin. A primal growl reverberated from his throat, the raw fury palpable in the frigid air.

  “Hunter…”

  The sound sent shivers down Joaquin’s spine, his senses reeling with a primal instinct to flee. Red’s breath came in deliberate exhales as she tried to maintain clarity amidst the encroaching chaos.

  “Well,” the tall man smirked.

  He halted just a few paces away, his voice a low rumble that resonated with a chilling certainty.

  “A former hunter to you. I’ve heard how fearsome and dangerous the Grays are. I underestimated your nose. And yet, even though you caught my scent, you waited until the last moment.”

  “What do you want!? My fur!?”

  Dave’s voice reverberated through the silent woods, defiance ringing clear in his words.

  “I just want the bard. Let me take him, and I’ll let you live. You have my word.”

  “I have a better idea. I’ll shove that word up your ass.”

  With the final retort, Dave launched himself towards Jalut with fierce determination. Joaquin’s disbelief shot his eyebrows up, yet he had no time to dwell as Red’s hand closed around his own, pulling him into a desperate sprint away from the danger.

  ???

  In the first seconds, Jalut’s senses were ablaze with the effects of the enhancing potions coursing through his veins. Dave attacked relentlessly, bare-handed, his every movement a testament to his speed and strength. Each blow from him reverberated through the clearing, a thunderous echo that set Jalut’s nerves on edge.

  As Dave’s strikes rained down with bone-shattering force, Jalut’s keen senses detected the subtle shifts in air pressure and the faint tremors beneath his feet. His breath came in sharp gasps, his pulse racing in sync with the frantic rhythm of combat.

  Fucking Gray!

  Amidst the chaos of the duel, barely dodging each strike, Jalut’s trained eye caught a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability—a split-second opening that promised a potential advantage. With calculated precision, he moved to exploit the weakness, his movements fluid and deliberate as he sought to gain the upper hand against his formidable opponent.

  At that moment, as he lunged forward, he knew that under such circumstances and in duels like these, luck often determined the outcome. The stakes were high, the outcome uncertain, but he remained resolute in his pursuit of victory, determined to seize the fleeting opportunity before him and turn the tide of battle in his favor. With each heartbeat, the line between triumph and defeat hung precariously in the balance, and Jalut was willing to wager it all on a roll of fate’s dice.

  ???

  As they darted through the dense foliage, Joaquin’s fingers clenched around Red’s hand, their knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. Each root and fallen branch threatened to send him tumbling, his feet stumbling over the uneven terrain. The forest became a blur of greens and browns, swirling together in a dizzying whirlwind around him.

  Amidst the chaos, the vibrant red of her cape stood out like a beacon, a flickering flame of hope in the darkness. It fluttered behind her, a striking difference from the muted hues of the trees guiding their path through the tangled undergrowth.

  But as they ran, a sharp pain pierced Joaquin’s side, stealing his breath and sending waves of nausea crashing over him. His vision swam, the edges blurring and distorting with each labored breath. He fought to stay upright, his muscles burning with exertion as he pushed himself to keep pace with Red’s frantic strides.

  The scent of damp earth filled his nostrils. A cold sweat trickled down his forehead in icy rivulets. Each inhale was a struggle, his ribcage constricting with the weight of the surroundings pressing in around him.

  Suddenly, Red’s grip tightened, pulling him back from the brink of collapse. He saw her other hand pressed against her side. His heart pounded in his chest.

  “Lady Red, are you alright?” he gasped, his voice barely audible over the roar of their flight.

  “Nothing. It’s nothing, just keep running,” she replied, her voice strained with the effort to keep pace.

  However, she couldn’t help but think about the companion they just left behind.

  Dave, I hope it’s just a scratch.

  ???

  Dave gritted his teeth, pressing his back against the rough bark of a tree. Fresh wounds marred his body. One slicing across his left side beneath his ribs, another slashing his right cheek, and a deep gash marring his left triceps, crimson rivulets trickling down his arm.

  “Fucking silver,” he cursed through clenched teeth, his voice strained with pain.

  Yet, he knew it wasn’t just silver causing his agony. There was something more malicious at play. A poison flowed through his veins, intensifying the pain with every beat of his heart. The cuts oozed with a viscous fluid, the surrounding skin inflamed and angry as if the very air itself burned.

  Fuck! I have to end him fast or else —

  His thoughts were shattered by the sudden onslaught as he dodged a punch that sailed past, leaving a deep crack in the tree where his head had been moments before.

  “You remain quite reactive,” Jalut sneered, swiftly pivoting to launch another assault. “The pure lineage of Grays is impressive.”

  With every move, Jalut aimed to end the fight as soon as possible, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. But Dave, despite his injuries, moved with unexpected agility, evading each strike with a dancer’s grace.

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  The woodland echoed with the grunts of exertion as the two combatants engaged in their deadly dance.

  As Jalut lunged forward, aiming his blade at Dave’s vulnerable stomach, the hunter’s eye spotted another clear opening, Dave pivoted, the blade grazing his flesh but failing to find its mark. Instead of dodging, Dave countered with a sudden burst of strength, his fist connecting with Jalut’s liver with bone-crushing force.

  The impact sent shockwaves of pain radiating through Jalut’s body. Anyone else would lie down dead after such a blow, but he shook it off and pressed on, determined to finish the job. However, after barely dodging a fatal blow to his thyroid, another landed in his temporal region. Jalut staggered, his muscles taut with anticipation of another strike. Just a couple more, and he’d teeter on the verge of oblivion. But it was the moment for the poison to unleash its full malevolence.

  Dave’s anguished groan echoed through the forest as he expelled a gush of blood, his body wracked with weakness. Desperation clawed at him as he struggled to summon the strength to end his opponent.

  “Tch! Finally.”

  Jalut’s voice, laced with disdain, pierced the air as he scrutinized Dave’s contorted features.

  “I was doubting whether your Gray metabolism would succumb to such a potent dose of poison.”

  With a series of agile maneuvers, he shook off the lingering haze of the previous blows.

  “You nearly had me there.”

  Circling Dave, Jalut observed his gradual descent to the forest floor, each movement accompanied by a symphony of pain. Yet, amidst the torment, Dave’s gaze remained fixed on the hunter, a silent testament to his unwavering resolve.

  “But, finally, the poison is working. Tailored for beings like you, a vile concoction of ionized silver. Nasty stuff reacting to the high amounts of sulfur and phosphorus in your body, devouring your organs with ruthless efficiency. Your greatest strength becomes your fatal flaw.”

  With a deft stroke, he opened Dave’s throat, the crimson rivulet staining the forest floor, a stark contrast to the hues of the moss-covered ground.

  “It’s been a pleasure. Though you may linger for a few moments, courtesy of your remarkable regenerative abilities, you’ll soon die. I regret I cannot enjoy your final breaths. There are matters to attend to. Your girlfriend awaits, and my duty beckons. Adios.”

  Stepping forward, Jalut caught a guttural snarl, laden with incomprehensible menace.

  “Hush now, no need for words. They serve only to hasten your demise,” he said with index finger pressed against in lips.

  “Leave—her—alone…”

  Dave’s voice, barely more than a growl, sent a shiver down Jalut’s spine.

  “And if not?!”

  His gaze bore into Dave’s. A heavy feeling nestled in his chest.

  “She—will—end you. Loser…”

  Dave’s eyes flickered shut, his defiance fading into a pained exhale.

  “We’ll see about that, werewolf,” Jalut hissed, his attention already shifting to the pursuit of his fleeing quarry.

  But he couldn’t shake the unsettling confidence in Dave’s last words. Gripping his teeth, he pushed forward, steeling himself for the confrontation that lay ahead.

  She won’t notice what killed her.

  ???

  As they continued running, weariness settled into Joaquin’s bones like an unwelcome guest overstaying its welcome. Each step became a struggle against the heaviness of exhaustion pressing down upon him. He felt the burden of fatigue more acutely, his muscles protesting with every movement, pleading for respite. Silently, he prayed for a moment of rest, a break from running through the wilderness.

  It was as though the universe had heard his plea when Red slowed their pace. Her hand remained firmly clasped around Joaquin’s, a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos. Yet, her other hand drifted to her stomach, a subtle gesture that hinted at unseen turmoil lurking beneath the surface.

  “Lady Red, are you okay?”

  Joaquin’s voice trembled with concern, his words a hesitant echo in the forest’s embrace. His gaze fell upon a faint, pink line marring the smooth curve of Red’s neck, resembling a delicate brushstroke on a canvas. It resembled a rash, but its perfect symmetry betrayed an unnatural origin.

  Turning to face him, Red’s eyes bore a weight of despair that pierced Joaquin’s soul. A torrent of guilt surged within him, the gravity of responsibility pressing down as heavily as a leaden cloak.

  Should I have stayed home? Is this all my fault?

  “I have to go back, Joaquin.”

  Red’s voice held an eerie calmness, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling around them. He would never dare to imagine hearing her voice in such a dead-cold tone.

  “You must continue,” she said.

  “What?”

  Joaquin’s fingers tangled in his hair, his mind reeling with disbelief.

  “But have you seen that man? He’s a lunatic and—”

  “Dave needs me.”

  Her words were a solemn declaration, carried on a breath as cold as winter frost. They lingered ominously, a chilling reminder of their dire circumstances.

  Seating herself on the forest floor, Red retrieved a collection of flasks and herbs from her shoulder bag, her movements methodical and purposeful.

  “You should run,” she urged, her gaze fixed on the task at hand.

  “No, I cannot abandon you. And you can’t go back. It’s too dangerous!”

  “He is dying, Joaquin. He needs my help.”

  Red’s voice brooked no argument, her conviction unwavering in the face of impending danger.

  Joaquin couldn’t believe his ears. He couldn’t decide what was worse. The message that Dave was in grave danger or the tone with which she delivered it. Calm. But not a pleasant calm. It was a calm, powerful river. A relentless tidal wave was forming, certain to crush anything in its wake.

  His mind raced, grappling with the gravity of their situation. He traced patterns upon the forest floor, pulling at his shirt with trembling fingers, his thoughts in turmoil.

  This is what you wanted, right? An adventure. Adventures are dangerous. You wanted stories to tell. Ballads to sing. Now you can’t decide if you want to run away. Again?

  “How may I help you?”

  Joaquin’s voice betrayed a flicker of uncertainty as he expected her to send him away.

  “Take this and crush it all together to dust.”

  She handed him a mortar filled with some herbs and a pestle.

  “Quickly, I’ll prepare a flask with alcohol and the pre-made brews for Dave.”

  At that moment, as he followed her instructions, Joaquin confronted the significance of his choices. He couldn’t leave Red and Dave behind, not when their lives hung in the balance. It was unbearable to think of something happening to them because of him. And his parents would neither forgive him, for they raised him to be brave, not a coward. With renewed resolve, Joaquin vowed to complete this journey for the sake of his new friends and loved ones at home.

  ???

  It was much easier than he expected. To his surprise, his target changed direction and was running towards him. Worried about their friend. It was certain. At least on her side. And because of this change, all Jalut needed was to prepare a simple ambush.

  As expected, she led the way, with the bard trailing behind. His pulse quickened, adrenaline surging through his veins as he readied his crossbow. He aimed with practiced precision, the tension on the trigger a familiar sensation beneath his fingertips. With a sharp exhale, he pulled, and two arrows sliced through the air, their deadly intent concealed by the tranquility of the woods.

  The impact was jarring, the thunk of the arrows finding their mark followed by a sickening silence. Jalut wasted no time, closing the distance with the bard in swift, calculated strides. Almost everything went according to plan. Almost.

  Both arrows successfully hit the target, and the guy went unconscious with one blow. However, the sound those arrows made was far from hitting soft fabric and piercing human flesh. It was more akin to a clanging noise when hitting a rock.

  “What a nice cape you are wearing! Didn’t expect that.”

  Jalut’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere, his gaze shifting from the fallen bard to Red, who stood like a sentinel amidst the trees. His words hung in the air, laden with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

  “Where is he?” she asked.

  Hearing her tone, Jalut discerned she was no ordinary girl. Her eyes were ablaze, piercing him from under the crimson hood. He tightened his grip around his weapons. Something was off. He felt her voice vibrating deep within his chest. His heart turned to a giant bell, and she was the hammer. He licked his lips and gulped. Heavy silence surrounded them as if the forest itself held its breath in her presence.

  “Dead, not far,” Jalut replied, his voice betraying a tremor of uncertainty that surprised even him.

  He gestured vaguely behind her, his eyes never leaving her form. Not a single muscle in her body moved. Not even on her face. Like a mountain, she stood there, holding a small knife in her left hand. Her gaze, unlike any predator, captured him in a manner he had never experienced.

  What the fuck is this girl?

  Jalut’s mind raced, analyzing the situation. His palms were sweaty, and the bitter taste of fear lingered on his tongue. The potions he took should continue to work, making these unexpected emotions more disturbing. Something was very wrong.

  “So,” he began, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. “How about this? You let me take this one,” he pointed at the unconscious bard, “and you can go check on your dead friend.”

  “You are not leaving alive, hunter.”

  Red’s words pierced him like a death sentence, her tone unwavering in its conviction. Jalut’s blood ran cold at the finality of her words, the weight of her gaze bearing down on him like a physical force.

  His eyes widened, a cold sweat breaking out across his brow as he took a cautious step backward. Years had passed since he last felt these shivers. She was dangerous. How dangerous? He must discover it firsthand.

  He started walking in a wide circle towards her, approaching with utmost care, keeping his eyes on her. The forest seemed to close in around them, the towering trees casting long shadows that danced at the edges of his vision. His senses were on high alert, every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs magnified in the oppressive silence.

  A bead of sweat trickled down his spine as he continued to circle her, his heart pounding in his chest—a heavy drumbeat resonating through the calmness of the woods.

  He already made half a circle around her, slowly coming from her side behind her back, while maintaining a distance. Her eyes were locked on him, her head turning with each step he took, making her an eerie presence, reminding him of stories about spirits possessing human bodies, twisting them like dolls in unnatural ways. His breathing quickened.

  In contrast, her breath was slow and controlled. She knew she scared him and shook his confidence. It gave her the edge she desperately needed.

  I’ve got only one chance. Don’t mess it up, Red.

  The heaviness of her resolve settled like a heavy cloak around her shoulders. But if she fails, she can still manage. She needs to do everything within her power to save Dave. Joaquin will be added to the list later.

  She shifted all her mental focus to the poisoned arrows lying nearby. Her head spun with the dizzying array of sensations assaulting her senses. Such manipulation was extremely tiresome, the mental strain threatening to overwhelm her.

  The whole woodland turned into a blurry abstract painting, the vibrant hues of green and brown blending together in a dizzying whirl. All sounds mingled together, metamorphosing into nothing more than white noise, weakening until all that remained was pain in her head and silence.

  He made his move from behind, just as she expected. He was quick but uncertain, the rustle of leaves beneath his feet betraying his step.

  In that very instant, she abruptly faced him, extending her arm in a graceful motion like that of a conductor. Her breath was heavy as if she was attempting to breathe underwater, her lungs burning with the effort. Colors of the world swirled together, vibrant and hazy, in a kaleidoscope of light. Both her legs gave up for a second, almost sending her to the ground, her muscles screaming with the strain of maintaining her stance.

  She couldn’t see if she hit him. Everything was spinning around her in a chaotic dance, ever-changing direction. Her stomach was twisting, and she had the urge to throw up. All started turning black a moment before he hit her with his whole body weight, and as her hood fell upon the impact, he delivered one precise, deep cut on her neck.