Two armored knights, their dark capes fluttering violently behind them in the cold mountain wind, approached a remote peak at the northernmost tip of the Horn of Yuria. They halted afar from a gloomy grove, where the trees twisted like broken bones and an unnatural silence hung heavy in the air.
"The intelligence division can go fuck themselves," one of them muttered. "I knew Hellsifer was going to send us out here off the record. You really think they're gonna be fine?"
"Yeah... as long as they keep their heads down."
The first knight stared at the dark, ill-omened grove ahead. Even from this distance, the place felt wrong , like a living wound in the world.
"Right... Honestly, I don't think we can even keep our heads down." He pointed with his gauntleted hand. "We're flying too close to the sun, if you can even call that fucking swamp a sun. That thing devours life itself."
"Reinhard," the second knight said sharply, his voice steady but firm. "Focus on the mission. We're here to watch that goddamn thing. We worry about the rest later."
Reinhard fell silent. His polished helmet completely hid his face, but the way his shoulders tensed and the heavy steps he took as he turned away spoke louder than any words. His bad temper was unmistakable.
____
Canaria waved at Vandal from a corner table in the dimly lit diner. He dragged a chair over and dropped into it with a heavy sigh.
"Looks like someone's having a rough day," she said, eyeing his gloomy expression.
"You have no idea..." Vandal rubbed his face. "I'm so fucking fed up."
Canaria leaned back with a lazy grin. "Well then, let's fill our guts with some properly undigested shit first. We'll talk after."
Vandal nearly stood up and walked out. "You're a lady, you know that?"
She only laughed.
..
They ate in relative silence. Once the plates were half-empty and the drinks were flowing, Vandal finally opened up.
"So... yesterday I got offered a job with the military."
Canaria was fidgeting with her cup, eyes fixed on the swirling liquid inside. "And?"
"And?" Vandal frowned. "What do you mean 'and'? That's it."
She took a slow sip, still not looking at him. "No, I just... elaborate."
".. elaborate what Canaria it's just that.. they said I can't keep hanging around a bunch of outlaws.."
"..well.. they got that right at least.." she grins
Vandal stared at her, confused. This didn't feel like the Canaria he knew.
"...Are you drunk already?"
She downed the rest of her drink in one go.
"Actually," she said, finally meeting his eyes, "my mind hasn't been this clear in a long time."
Vandal went still.
Canaria's voice softened, but there was steel beneath it.
"Vandal... when I took you in, you were angry, lost, broken. I brought you into my family. You became family. The Catastrophe took your mother from you , that was hell. But you do realize... no one around you is even close to your age anymore, right?"
Vandal's gaze dropped to the floor. His body felt like wood.
"I'm not ordering you to leave us," she continued. "Hell, after losing so many men in the war, I'm actually recruiting. But we have to be honest with each other."
She signaled for another drink.
"First of all, we still have no idea what's happening with this new ability of yours. Something that isn't even in the records. I've never heard of anyone devouring another person's Grace before, Vandal. That single fact could drag the entire world into war."
The new drink arrived. She took a small sip.
"Second... you're brilliant. Your mind, your analysis , it's on the same level as mine, and I've been a battlefield rat for as long as I can remember. Your talent is wasted with mercenaries who fight only for gold."
She paused, letting the words sink in.
"We can't afford to lose you... and we can't afford to keep you either. Not like this. So the best solution , and I say this with my heart full of sorrow , is to hand you over to people we actually trust. Not the Parliament. Not the Kingdom's military. But to our real friends... Hilday, your brother... Rolden... the others we bled with."
She studied his face carefully.
"You with me, pal?"
Vandal slowly leaned back in his seat, eyes distant.
"Yeah... I guess so."
Canaria's voice grew gentler.
"You're going to think about it. You're going to be in agony. You're going to look for every excuse not to do it. But you'll still think about it."
She stood up, placing a hand on his shoulder for a moment.
"Right, Vandal?"
He swallowed hard. She had dismantled every defense he could have used before he even thought of them.
"...Yes. I will."
She smiled, warm but sad, and headed for the door.
"Oh, by the way... who's that guy you came with?" She glanced sideways at the stranger sitting a few tables away.
Vandal shrugged. "I don't know. He's been tailing me since yesterday's meeting. I haven't had the energy to shake him off or even ask what he wants. As long as he doesn't cross any lines, he can follow."
Canaria grinned.
"Look at you, finally growing some balls and making your own calls." She winked. "Fine then. I'll leave you to it. See you around, Vandy."
She walked out, leaving Vandal sinking deeper into the storm of his own thoughts.
_______
Reinhard's gauntleted hand rested on the hilt of his sword, but he made no move to draw it. His companion, kept his eyes fixed on the deep dark aura lurking in the trees.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the gloom.
It was a man , or at least something shaped like one , cloaked in a tattered dark red robe that seemed to drink in what little light remained. The hood was pulled low, completely concealing his face. Not even the glint of eyes could be seen beneath the cowl.
Without a word, the stranger raised a blade that was pointed at them with menacing aura.
"Company! Ser Aldric!" Reinard barked, alerting his companion while drawing his sword in one fluid motion.
The robed figure moved like liquid shadow. In the span of a heartbeat, he closed the distance and struck.
Steel clashed violently against steel as Aldric parried the first blow, then the second. Sparks flew in the dim light. Reinhard tightened the grip on his blade and he started engulfing it with the Aura of his Grace and moved to flank the attacker, but the stranger was unnervingly fast.
"Reinhard !! don't!" Aldric shouted between parries, his voice strained. "If you activate your Grace here, The Roaming Forest will react! That thing will wake up!"
Reinhard hesitated for half a second, his sword half-raised he deactivated the aura. The warning was clear , and terrifying. They had been sent only to observe, not to provoke whatever slumbered within that accursed mire.
That half-second was all the hooded man needed.
He spun with inhuman swiftness, slipping past Aldric's guard. The blade flashed once , a clean, merciless strike.
Aldric's eyes widened in shock as the sword pierced straight through the gap in his armor, just below the breastplate.
A wet, choking gasp escaped his lips.
The stranger twisted the blade viciously, then yanked it free in a spray of blood. Aldric staggered backward, clutching his wound, before collapsing heavily onto the rocky ground. His helmet rolled off with a metallic clang, revealing a face already turning pale.
The hooded figure didn't even glance at the dying knight. Instead, he turned his hidden gaze toward Reinhard for a single, silent moment… then before Reinhard realized the clocked man was gone as if he had never been there. Disappeared into thin air not a single footprint remained.
Reinhard stood frozen, sword still raised, chest heaving.
"Aldric…!"
He dropped to his knees beside his companion. The man was still alive ,barely. Blood bubbled from the corner of his mouth as he tried to speak.
"Reinhard… don't… use it…" Aldric whispered, his voice wet and fading. "Theswamp… it's listening…"
His eyes lost focus. A final, rattling breath left his body, and then he went still.
Reinhard's helmet had been knocked off during the frantic exchange of blows. It now lay on the ground beside him, dented and blood-splattered. His face ,strikingly handsome, with sharp noble features , was now fully exposed to the cold mountain air.
A thin, jagged scar ran through his left eyebrow, giving him a dangerous, almost tragic beauty. His chestnut-brown hair, usually kept neat and elegant in the style of highborn knights, was now scruffy and matted with sweat and dirt.
He stared at Aldric's lifeless body for a long moment, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt.
He turned to look at where the fight took place where the robed assassin had vanished.
"Who the fuck was that !!!"
Then his gaze slowly drifted toward the depths of the gloomy grove,
The silence that followed was heavier than before. The trees seemed to lean closer, as if curious. As if hungry.
Reinhard's gloved hand tightened around the hilt of his sword until the metal creaked.
"…You're still watching, aren't you?" he whispered toward the swamp, voice low and venomous. "Whatever the hell you are."
He rose slowly to his feet, chestnut hair whipping in the wind, the scar over his eye making him look every bit the vengeful noble knight he was.
"I'll remember this."
With one last glance at his fallen brother-in-arms, Reinhard picked up his dented helmet, but did not put it back on. He turned and began walking away from the grove, each step heavy with barely contained fury.
Behind him, the twisted trees.. were calm, silent.. but they were witnessing.
The groves are looking.. they always were.. they always will.