Rolin looked at her with suspicion…
a look that lingered longer than it should.
The concern in his eyes wasn't for her—
but from her.
She was still clutching her bleeding shoulder, her breathing uneven, yet…
something didn't add up.
Just one thing.
"That hand…"
The scene replayed in his mind with unsettling clarity—
a hand of fire… erupting from the ground itself, striking the beast from below with precision… perfect timing.
It wasn't random.
It wasn't coincidence.
That wasn't Likath…
His gaze flicked briefly toward the crimson wolf.
Likath was calmly licking one of his slightly burned claws, his posture relaxed… no sign of the strain such a spell would demand.
And I…
His eyes lowered for a moment.
…don't even have a mana core.
A short silence in his thoughts.
Then—
…that leaves only—
He looked at her again.
Selen.
She was staring at the ground, her fist clenched tight, blood dripping slowly between her fingers…
but her eyes—
They weren't afraid.
Nor confused.
They were… focused.
As if she knew.
Rolin's eyes narrowed.
If she has that kind of power…
He took a slow step forward.
Then why—
He stopped.
The cocoon.
The threads.
Her motionless body, suspended.
…how did she end up like that?
A heavy question.
Why would a predator… become prey?
His gaze slid toward her shoulder—
the wound.
Then to the ground beneath her—
No trace of fire remained.
No ash.
No heat.
As if it had never existed at all.
His jaw tightened.
"Selen."
He said her name quietly.
She lifted her head slowly.
Their eyes met.
A brief silence.
Short—
but enough.
Enough for him to know…
there was something hidden.
Something deeper than mere "survival."
A faint smile curved his lips… cold.
"Seems… I'm not the only one hiding things."
She didn't answer.
She just looked at him.
With the same coldness.
But deep in her eyes…
something flickered.
Fear?
Anger?
Or… a memory?
He didn't care.
He turned his back slowly.
Doesn't matter.
A step.
As long as she doesn't aim it at me.
But—
somewhere deep inside him…
a small feeling began to form.
Not fear.
But—
caution.
And in this world…
caution—
is what keeps you alive.
They returned to the hollow tree in heavy silence.
Behind them, the forest still whispered—rustling leaves, distant footsteps… and perhaps things that couldn't be seen.
But here—inside the dry wood, beneath a naturally curved ceiling like a cage—
there was… quiet.
Rolin sealed the entrance with thick branches, binding them tightly with a black chain.
Not a real barrier…
but enough to buy them seconds if something tried to break in.
"Sit." he said without looking at her.
She didn't argue.
Selen slid slowly against the inner wall, her breathing still uneven, her hand pressing against her bleeding shoulder.
Rolin approached, sat in front of her, and opened his bottomless bag.
His movements were calm… methodical…
as if a life-and-death chase hadn't just happened minutes ago.
He pulled out clean cloth, dried herbs, and a small vial filled with a clear liquid.
He examined the wound.
Silent.
Then said flatly:
"This will hurt."
She raised a faint eyebrow despite her condition.
"Shocking…"
He didn't respond.
He poured the liquid directly onto the wound—
ssssss—
A faint sizzling sound rose, as if the liquid itself was burning the flesh.
Her body stiffened instantly.
Her fingers dug into the wood beneath her—
but—
she didn't scream.
She only exhaled sharply through clenched teeth.
"If you move…" he said calmly while cleaning the blood,
"…I'll start over."
She shot him a deadly glare.
"Very motivating."
Likath, sitting near the entrance, chuckled softly, his flames flickering.
"I love his gentle methods."
"Shut up." they both said at once.
The fire dimmed for a second…
then muttered:
"Rude."
Rolin continued his work.
He cleaned the blood thoroughly, crushed the herbs between his fingers until a dark green liquid seeped out, then pressed them onto the wound.
This time—
the pain was deeper.
Slower.
Like something creeping into the flesh.
Selen shut her eyes tightly, her breathing quickened—
but again—
no sound.
He noticed.
Stubborn…
He wrapped the cloth firmly around her shoulder, his movements steady, the pressure precise—not harsh… not gentle.
When he finished—
he pulled his hand away.
"Done."
She opened her eyes slowly.
Looked at the bandage.
Then at him.
"You've done this… a lot."
It wasn't just an observation.
It was an accusation.
He didn't smile.
"I stay alive a lot."
She paused.
Then said quietly:
"That's not the same thing."
He ignored her.
Started putting the tools back into the bag one by one, as if the conversation had ended.
But it hadn't.
She watched him.
Then—
"The hand."
His movement stopped for a fraction of a second.
Small—
but noticeable.
"What hand?" he said without looking up.
"The one that saved me."
Silence.
Likath raised one flaming ear slightly, interested.
Even the forest seemed to hold its breath.
Then Rolin finally said, very calmly:
"I thought it was yours."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Mine?"
He looked up this time.
A direct gaze.
Sharp.
"Isn't it?"
Silence stretched.
Selen stared at him for a few long seconds.
Then—
she slowly shook her head.
"No."
Simple.
Direct.
Without hesitation.
But—
something in her eyes… wasn't simple.
Rolin's gaze narrowed slightly.
A lie?
Or… half the truth?
He didn't press further.
Not now.
"Then…" he murmured, leaning back against the wall,
"…we have a third party."
Likath sparked lightly.
"Wonderful. Exactly what we needed. More problems."
Silence settled again.
The dim fire danced between them.
Shadows crawled along the walls… as if watching.
And within that silence—
something lingered.
Something unspoken.
Something… waiting.
Rolin closed his eyes slowly.
But his mind—
didn't rest.
Because this forest…
was no longer just a place to survive.
It was—
a puzzle.
And sometimes…
puzzles—
are far more dangerous than monsters.
The silence returned, heavier this time.
Not peaceful—
but expectant.
Deep within the hollow trunk, where light barely slipped through narrow cracks, the two sat facing each other.
Only a short distance apart—
yet filled with unasked questions.
Rolin didn't sleep.
He only closed his eyes… as usual.
As if sleep was a luxury he couldn't afford.
Selen leaned against the wall, her breathing gradually steadying—
but her eyes remained open.
Watching him.
Studying him.
Just as he did her.
Minutes passed.
Or maybe more.
Time didn't move properly here.
Then—
"You don't trust me."
She said it suddenly.
Not a question.
A fact.
Rolin opened his eyes slowly… without moving his head.
"Should I?"
His answer was calm—
but not defensive.
Just honest.
Direct.
Like a strike.
A faint, pale smile appeared on her lips.
"No."
Then after a moment:
"Neither do I."
Likath's flames flickered slightly.
"What a warm atmosphere… feels like I'm attending a funeral for trust."
No one responded.
Silence again.
But this time—
it wasn't empty.
It was… tight.
Selen lowered her gaze to her hand… dried blood still clinging to her fingers.
"That hand…"
she murmured, almost thinking aloud.
"It wasn't normal magic."
Rolin didn't reply.
But he listened.
"I didn't feel any mana flow."
She looked up at him slowly.
"Not even distortion."
She paused.
Then said quietly:
"It was like… it wasn't a spell at all."
This time—
Rolin's eyes moved.
Slowly.
Not a spell…?
He didn't like that idea.
Because that meant—
something else.
Something worse.
"Maybe…" he said finally,
"…something tied to this place."
He glanced around.
The old wooden walls.
The ground that left no trace of fire.
"This forest…" he continued softly,
"…isn't normal."
"I know." she said immediately.
Then fell silent.
As if she'd said too much.
Rolin's eyes narrowed—
but before he could speak—
Tap…
A faint sound.
From outside.
All three froze.
Likath lifted his head instantly, his flames dimming but growing denser.
Rolin didn't move—
but his hand slid silently toward the black chain beside him.
Selen tensed despite the pain, her eyes locking onto the sealed entrance.
Tap… tap…
Clearer now.
Closer.
Not rustling leaves.
Not random footsteps.
It was… knocking.
Rolin looked at the branches blocking the entrance.
Then—
stood slowly.
Every movement calculated.
Every breath measured.
"Nothing knocks… in a forest like this."
he said in a low voice.
"Maybe something polite?" Likath muttered.
Tap…
Louder.
Then—
a voice.
Faint.
Broken.
"…is… anyone… there…?"
Selen's eyes widened slightly.
The voice—
was human.
But Rolin—
didn't approach.
Instead—
he stopped.
Wrong.
A voice in his head said it clearly.
In a place like this…
voices—
lie.
He looked at Selen.
Then said quietly:
"Don't speak."
Then—
he took one step toward the entrance…
and stopped.
"If you're human…" he said aloud,
"…take one step forward."
Silence.
Then—
rustling…
Something moved behind the branches.
One step.
But—
no shadow appeared.
The air froze.
Rolin smiled.
A small…
cold smile.
"As expected."
Outside—
the sound stopped.
Then…
vanished.
Without a trace.
Silence returned.
But this time—
it wasn't calm.
It was a declaration.
They—
were not alone.
Rolin returned to his spot slowly, sat as before…
but his eyes didn't close this time.
"The third party…" he murmured.
Then looked at Selen.
"…seems to have started knocking."