William had been walking through the forest for nearly an hour. He eventually reached a place where only his own footsteps echoed—no rustling, no chirping, no signs of life.
—If it's this quiet… then I must be getting close.
A cold breeze swept past his shoulders, sending a shiver down his spine. His body had been acting strangely. Cold sweat dripped down his face, his teeth chattered, and an uneasy chill clung to his skin. Every instinct screamed that danger lay ahead, but still, he pushed forward.
He didn't know exactly where he was going. The path ahead was barely visible until he reached a small clearing where moonlight spilled through the trees.
He looked up at the moon, exhaling a shaky breath.
—If I go any deeper, she'll show up like always… right?
It had always been her job to keep curious wanderers like him from venturing too close to the heart of the forest. He'd learned that the hard way as a boy. Each time he got close, she appeared—and drove him back.
The one who might help him now. The one he begrudgingly considered a "friend."The woman with the gray eyes.
"That's as far as you go, intruder."
William paused, scanning the trees. Her voice rang out, echoing from all directions. He couldn't pinpoint her location—it was as if the forest itself were speaking.
He smirked wryly. "You could at least show yourself when greeting a guest."
A shadow leapt down from the trees. A woman landed soundlessly a few feet away, her bare feet touching the grass without a whisper. She crossed her arms, gazing at him with mild irritation.
"As far as I know, guests are invited. You, on the other hand, just barge in."
"Harsh. Aren't we old pals?"
She ignored his sarcasm. "You know better than anyone that you're not allowed here. I'm not obligated to be kind after so many warnings."
William scratched the back of his head. "I know, I know… I promised not to come back, but—well, things happened. And here I am."
She didn't even blink. "Go back. You know our laws. My people are not kind to outsiders. The only reason you're even allowed to live in these woods is already pushing the limits."
"You don't need to tell me. Most people are terrified of your kind. Even the beasts hide when you're near."
The Drakon tribe had a reputation. Those who knew of them kept their distance.
—I used to be one of them.
People whispered that the Drakon were wild, feral—born of the forest. But the truth was simpler: people were afraid.
The Drakon preferred it that way. They never left the forest, and that suited them fine. It also kept intruders away.
"If you understand that much," she said coolly, "then I don't need to stand here listening to your rambling."
She turned to leave.
William took a breath, steeling himself. She had always been difficult. "I came here… because of you, Olivia."
She paused, glancing over her shoulder. "What is it?"
"I need your help." The blacksmith bowed his head.
Olivia placed a hand on her hip, shaking her head. For a moment, she'd thought he was going to say something else. "You've got some nerve. I'm not at your beck and call just because you're in trouble."
He straightened quickly. "Of course not! My employer is willing to compensate you. Please, just hear me out!"
She scoffed. "You know currency means nothing here."
"Right… that's, uh…"
Olivia turned fully to face him. "My people don't need money. We don't need anything from the outside. The forest provides all we require."
William gritted his teeth. He knew where this was going. It reminded him too much of his old days as a merchant—negotiation after negotiation blocked at every turn. He needed something to win her over. Anything.
"There must be something I can offer you."
Olivia's eyes narrowed. "There was. But we both know how that ended. As you are now… you can't."
The conversation had already ended in her mind.
"Wait, Oli—"
William took a step forward—and immediately stumbled back three.
His body reacted before his mind could. Every nerve screamed at him to flee. His instincts kicked in the moment he met her gaze.
"Go back. That is a warning." Her white tattoos glowed faintly against her brown skin, pulsating with energy.
"Olivia, please! Let's talk!"
But Olivia was done. She wasn't in the mood to deal with him—especially not in the middle of the night.
She launched herself into the air, leaving a small crater where she stood. From above, she arced toward him, leg drawn back for a crushing kick.
William barely had time to react. He raised his arms to shield himself—bracing for impact.
A sudden gust of wind knocked him off his feet—but no pain followed.
"Huh?"
To his surprise, a shimmering barrier had formed in front of him. It had blocked Olivia's strike.
A young woman stood at the edge of the barrier, clad in a flowing black dress. Her long ponytail fluttered in the wind, and her single yellow eye remained calmly fixed on Olivia, who now stood poised just inches from her.
"My, how childish," she said with a sigh. "Always so quick to anger."
"Ironic coming from you," Olivia snapped.
"Can't you see he didn't come to fight? Why jump straight to violence? You never change, Oli."
Olivia clicked her tongue and leapt back, landing a few feet away with a scowl. "Why are you here, Sylvia Graham?"
Seconds of silence stretched into eternity. Sweat trickled down William's forehead as he stood frozen, watching the tension crackle between the two women. He didn't know whether to intervene or stay out of it.
Clearing his throat, he summoned what little courage he had and stepped forward. "Hey, let's all calm dow—"
"—Do not interfere, blacksmith," the gothic woman cut in, her eyes never leaving Olivia. "She and I have... catching up to do."
William's eyes widened. He muttered under his breath, "How did you—?"
"I was on my way to that place when I stumbled upon this mess," Sylvia said, crossing her arms. "It's always the same with you." She tapped her cheek with a finger in thought. "'Actions speak louder than words,' isn't that the saying?"
Olivia scoffed. "You think you can just stroll in whenever you like? You know you're not allowed here anymore. There were conditions—clear ones. Especially after last time."
"I need to speak to Dasan. It concerns the stone."
"Outside matters mean nothing to the Drakon tribe. The chief doesn't care about your precious pebble anymore. You won't pass."
Sylvia tilted her head, chuckling behind a hand. "Permission? I act on my own terms."
Olivia gritted her teeth. "That smug arrogance of yours is insufferable. Very well—if you insist, then yes, we do have something to settle."
She lunged forward, fists blazing with mana. Her white tattoos lit up like streaks of lightning across her skin. The pupils vanished from her eyes, and strands of her hair bleached from black to white as she accelerated.
Sylvia scoffed. "Still relying on that dragon spirit? One day, it'll be your undoing."
"And yet you still worship your little rabbit. Such sacrilege will be judged once resurrection comes!"
Blinded or not, Olivia had long since mastered her powers. Her blows hammered Sylvia's barrier, each strike stronger than the last. Cracks began to spread across the magical shield.
A sudden surge of mana enveloped William. "What the—?!"
"Step aside, blacksmith," Sylvia said calmly, not even glancing at him. "This is going to get messy."
A burst of magic hurled William backward, sending him tumbling to the edge of the field.
Olivia's glowing fist shot forward, but Sylvia leapt high into the air. The punch landed where she had just stood, tearing up the grass and sending a shockwave across the clearing.
From above, Sylvia retaliated. Light beams rained down, slicing through the air. Olivia didn't have time to dodge. She gritted her teeth as the magic slashed into her, blood staining her limbs—but her pace didn't falter.
At lightning speed, she shot into the air, caught Sylvia mid-flight, and kicked her downward. The gothic woman crashed into the ground, gasping as the air was knocked from her lungs.
William watched, stunned. He'd never seen such raw strength. Each attack reshaped the battlefield—flattening trees, tearing up earth. This… is Olivia's power.
But Sylvia only laughed, lying in the wreckage. "This is fun."
Olivia narrowed her eyes, watching Sylvia rise to her feet. In an instant, a shoge materialized in her hands.
William's eyes widened. "What the hell?! She created a weapon out of thin air?!"
Olivia jumped back, putting distance between them.
"So, this is your new trick," she said coolly.
Sylvia twirled the weapon. "This isn't even half of it. Shall I demonstrate?" She pointed the blade at Olivia. "Though I'd love to stay and spar, I've got business with the chief. Let's make this quick."
"Hmph. Rules are rules. If you want through, you'll have to get past me."
William could barely follow the flurry of motion as the women clashed. The flashes of mana were the only clues to their movements.
Sylvia tried to bind Olivia with her chain, but the forest warrior shattered it with brute strength. Her glowing eyes told William she had no intention of losing. But Sylvia was in a rush—she wasn't here for a proper duel.
They dashed toward each other. Olivia leapt, aiming a punch, but Sylvia slid under her and used the chain again—this time hooking her ankle mid-air. Olivia crashed to the ground, and Sylvia pressed the tip of her blade against her throat.
"I know you enjoy these little fights, but the day written in stone is approaching. I have to speak with Dasan—now."
Olivia gritted her teeth, frustrated. Her tattoos dimmed, her hair returned to its natural black, and her gray eyes reappeared with a single blink.
Sylvia let out a sigh and dismissed her weapon, letting it vanish into the air. "Well then. I'll be on my way."
William slowly rose, eyes wide, speechless. The clearing had been reduced to a battlefield—craters, uprooted trees, scorched grass.
"These women are terrifying…" he muttered.
Sylvia turned to him and called out, "I'll make sure she helps you. It was nice seeing you again… Mr. Blacksmith."
As she passed Olivia, who now sat on the ground catching her breath, Olivia snapped, "You don't have the authority to force me."
Sylvia chuckled, covering her mouth. "Oh, but you will."
She rested her hands on her hips. "Stop with the tough love. It's obvious you care for him."
Olivia looked away, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. "What makes you say that?"
Sylvia grinned. "That first strike—before I arrived—you were aiming to miss. You just wanted to scare him off… because of that silly oath. Am I wrong?"
Olivia clicked her tongue, clearly annoyed at how easily she'd been read.
"I'll see you back at the place," Sylvia said, smirking as she vanished into the shadows of the forest.
With the gothic lady gone, the blacksmith slowly approached Olivia, who lay on the grass, catching her breath. He moved cautiously, uncertain how she would react. Reaching out a hand to help her up, he hesitated when she refused it and rose on her own.
The moon hung high above, casting pale light over the clearing. Her dark skin, usually smooth and unmarred, was streaked with blood. The moonlight accentuated the wounds from her battle, turning her into something both regal and terrifying.
William's brows furrowed. "Are you going to be alright?" he asked, eyeing the gashes along her arms. "You're bleeding all over."
Olivia stood tall, arms crossed, unwavering. She didn't flinch, didn't show the slightest sign of weakness. She was the kind of woman who would rather collapse in private than show vulnerability to anyone.
"I don't need your pity," she said, scoffing. "The wounds will be gone soon."
William tilted his head. "What do you—" Then he saw it.
Her tattoos glowed with a soft, white light, just like when she fought. One by one, the cuts and bruises closed and vanished, leaving her skin smooth once more.
His jaw dropped. She can heal herself too?
—That power… it's not just strength, but regeneration. She'd be a huge help navigating the forest.
A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek as another thought crossed his mind:
—Wait... didn't she try to kill me earlier?
He hesitated to bring up his request again. The last time he did, she responded with overwhelming force. It reminded him of the very first time they met—he'd merely asked to venture deeper into the forest, and she had nearly taken his head off.
—Though... come to think of it, she's never actually hurt me.
Olivia's voice cut through his thoughts. "Speak up, intruder. Thinking too much only gets you lost."
He scratched his cheek. "Right. About my request…"
She sighed, clearly exasperated. "Fine. I might as well hear it."
He cleared his throat. "I need your help guiding me—and two companions—through the Serpent's Passage."
Olivia's eyes narrowed. "That's reckless. Only fools dare travel that path."
William had learned to avoid three things: the forest, the Drakon tribe, and the Serpent's Passage. Yet here he was, tangled up in all three.
—At this rate, I'm a dead man walking.
"Well, it's complicated... how do I put this…"
Olivia growled. "Why are men always so weak when it comes to speaking plainly? Just spit it out, intruder."
He gave a sheepish smile. "So that's my new name now, huh? Anyway, my employer doesn't have much time."
Her expression shifted. "This employer… who is it?"
"The Reinsfield family," he said. "We need to exit the forest quickly. I figured the Serpent's Passage would be the fastest route north. Dangerous, yes, but it's our best option."
Olivia paused, arms still crossed. "The Reinsfields… I see. That explains a few things."
She put her hands on her hips. "I'm impressed, intruder. You can actually speak coherently when it matters."
William chuckled awkwardly. "So… does that mean I can count on your help?"
"Like I said before, money doesn't work here. What else can you offer me?" Her arms folded again.
He thought carefully. He couldn't offer her weapons—she didn't use any. He couldn't offer gold—she didn't care for it. The only thing he had left was...
He raised an index finger. "How about I let you decide your reward later? Whatever you want, you name it."
She frowned. "You want me to decide later? What kind of half-baked offer is that?!"
"Hey, that's how negotiations work sometimes," he grinned. "Let's form a pact. You help me, and I'll do whatever you ask. I'll swear on my life. If I back out, you can kill me on the spot. So really, I'm the one taking the risk."
He extended his hand toward her.
—Seeing him like this… how can I refuse? she thought.
She reached for his hand—only to stop just before touching it. Turning away quickly, she hid her reddening face.
"When are you leaving?" she asked, voice curt.
William scratched the back of his head. "Tomorrow at dawn."
She sighed, clearly unimpressed by the short notice, but it didn't surprise her. "Very well. I'll see you then."
With a single leap, she vanished into the trees.
"Wait!" William called after her. "Where should we meet?"
Once again, her voice rang out from the silence around him. "Don't worry. I'll find you."
And with that, she disappeared into the night.