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Chapter 37 - Chapter 37 : The Trap of Jealousy

They had just finished their meals. Guillard and Fael were busy washing dishes by the nearby river. Miza was feeding the horses while occasionally packing their gear back into the wagon. Alice sat on the large roots of a tree, gazing at the sky, bright and scorching. The heat of the day was softened by the forest's canopy, bringing a serenity that made it easy to forget they were still in a cruel and dangerous world.

As usual, Ravyn was playing around with Zeo, this time showing off a new move that had suddenly come to her mind.

"Cool, right, Master? It's like… some kind of beautiful assassination technique. I didn't even realize I could come up with something like this," she said excitedly while dancing around.

Zeo, still maintaining his focus, couldn't help but smile a little. "If you can control it, that could be a powerful technique. But... you still need to learn defensive skills."

"I don't need that. As long as I have Master, my defense is covered."

"Are you sure I'll always be around?"

"Of course. You've become my Master now, so you have to take responsibility."

"You're the one who made up that 'Master' thing," Zeo replied, shaking his head.

Ravyn just laughed and continued her barbaric dance.

Behind all the joy, Erik leaned against the trunk of a large tree, watching them with an unreadable smile—a mixture of warmth, sorrow, and something deeper. His gaze shifted to Alice, who was now taking a long, peaceful breath.

"Sleep well…" Erik whispered, his voice barely audible.

The moment those words were spoken, Alice—who had looked calm just a second ago—suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion crash over her body. Her eyes grew heavy. Within seconds, her breath became shallow, and her body slumped to the side of the tree root—unconscious.

Zeo and Ravyn saw it happen and immediately rushed over.

"Alice?! Alice, are you okay?!" Ravyn shouted, panicked.

Before they could reach her, Miza—who had been near the horses—suddenly dropped the feed bucket and clutched her head. "What… is this…?" she mumbled, collapsing.

Guillard, who was crouched by the river scrubbing a pan, was affected too. His large body slumped over, then fell backward with a heavy thud. One by one, they all collapsed—as if struck by an invisible force creeping through the air.

Fael stood motionless, head lowered, fists clenched at his sides. Then his body too began to sway. He fought against the overwhelming drowsiness, but in the end, he collapsed to the ground. Ravyn soon followed, her body falling beside them.

"Ravyn! Fael?!" Zeo cried out, now realizing something was terribly wrong.

He now stood alone. Or rather… there was one more.

His eyes turned to Erik, who was still standing casually against a tree, watching everything with a calm smile. Not a trace of fear or worry on his face.

"Erik…" Zeo muttered, his eyes sharpening.

"Oh? So you're still awake? Impressive," Erik said as he slowly stood, brushing off his clothes. "You've held on longer than I expected."

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," Erik replied with a smirk. "You all just seem a little sleepy. So go on—rest. And… enjoy the last sight you'll ever see."

Zeo tried to step forward, but his knees buckled. His muscles felt paralyzed. His vision swam. The world tilted around him.

"You…" he groaned as his body collapsed to the ground, one hand still trying to reach the tree trunk beside him. But his strength had left him. He too lost consciousness.

Erik let out a long breath, then stepped closer.

From the shadows of the forest, two large figures stood perched on the branch of a massive tree. The wind whispered around them as they emerged. Two bulky men stepped from the woods, muscles like steel, bodies covered with old scars. They laughed lowly as they took in the sight of the unconscious camp.

"Nice work, Erik," said one of them, his voice deep and hoarse.

"I didn't think they'd all go down this quickly with such cheap powder," added the other, his voice raspy but energetic.

Erik grinned. "Of course."

The camp had turned into a dead-silent battlefield. Only the burning colors of sunset remained—and three figures standing over the helpless bodies.

The two men stepped from the shadows with slow, confident strides that radiated both strength and menace. The first was named Brug, a towering figure with long, dirty gray dreadlocks. His skin was dark brown, like earth stained with blood. His face was half-covered with a rusted black metal mask.

The second was Takk, a bald man with a blazing blue flame tattoo stretching from his neck to the left side of his face. He was shorter than Brug but far bulkier—his muscles dense and battle-hardened. He wore a sleeveless leather vest covered in spikes and belts filled with small throwing knives, and a massive iron chain hung from his shoulder, clinking with every step. He looked like the fast, savage type—while Brug was more of a towering brute.

"Heh," Brug chuckled darkly. "Why bother, Erik? We could've crushed weaklings like these even without the powder."

Takk nodded, nudging Miza's unconscious body with his foot. "Pathetic. Not even one of them is awake."

Erik ignored their comments. He knelt beside Alice, who looked peaceful—like a girl asleep in a garden. His eyes brimmed with a strange, possessive affection. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, as if afraid to harm her.

"From now on… no one else will ever have you but me, Alice," he whispered.

He then scooped her into his arms, cradling her as if she were priceless treasure. Glancing briefly at the others—Zeo, Ravyn, Miza, Guillard, and Fael—he handed a few gold coins to Takk, and another pouch to Brug.

"Do whatever you want with the rest. But that guy—" he pointed at Zeo's unconscious form nearby, "make sure he dies."

Takk chuckled, clutching the coins tightly. "With pleasure, Sir Erik. Generous as always."

Brug hoisted the massive axe strapped to his back. "I'll take the demi-human girl. She might be fun to play with… hahah." His eyes locked on Ravyn's body with a lustful gaze. "She looks sweet…"

Without waiting, Brug stepped toward Zeo first—perhaps wanting to finish the kill before any twisted games began. He raised his axe high, veins bulging under his skin.

"Sleep tight, boy. This'll be fast… and painful," Brug growled.

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