There was no sound of birds or insects. The only sound was the vague rustle of fallen leaves in the passing wind. Carl felt like he was surrounded, just like when he was fighting in the middle of a horde of gnolls, and unlike back then when he was fighting fiercely, he felt the blood in his whole body turning cold.
Head, neck, chest, stomach, stomach… … .
A cold, deadly sensation as if an ice blade were scraping across areas where even a light attack could result in fatal injury. As Carl continued to move the sword in the middle to cover the vital spot the opponent was aiming for, the deadly force retreated.
"You can't fall behind me."
"I know."
The moment when Bilford's calm voice was heard in the silence, and Carl answered, it seemed like something was moving on the other side of the forest. Bilford realized that the blurry shape in the color of fallen leaves was human.
Seeing it swing his arm, Bilford drew his sword closer.
