"No!" Nicolas shouted, adrenaline surging through him. He dashed forward, his sword gleaming in the moonlight. The creature leaped at Renrou, but Nicolas was faster. He brought his sword down with all his strength, slashing across the beast's neck.
The creature's momentum carried it forward, but Nicolas' strike had been true. The wolf's body jerked in mid-air, its head whipping back as blood sprayed from the deep wound. It let out a final, gurgling snarl before its legs gave out, and it collapsed onto the ground in a heap.
But it wasn't over.
The beast's body, limp and heavy, fell directly onto renrou, knocking him to the ground. He gasped as the weight crushed him, his sword clattering out of reach. He struggled to breathe, his vision swimming as the stench of blood and fur filled his senses.
"Renrou!" Nicolas staggered forward, clutching his arm. He dropped to his knees beside his friend, pushing against the beast's body with his good arm, trying to help renrou escape.
Renrou groaned, the pressure on his chest making it impossible to speak. He braced his legs against the ground and pushed with all his remaining strength. Slowly, painfully, they managed to shift the beast just enough for Renrou to wriggle free.
Gasping for air, Renrou rolled onto his back, staring up at the canopy of twisted trees. His entire body ached, his muscles trembling from exhaustion. Nicolas sat beside him, panting, his face pale from weakness.
"Are... you okay?" Nicolas asked between breaths, his voice weak.
Renrou coughed, forcing himself to sit up. "I'm fine," he rasped.
Nicolas reached into his pack, pulling out a cloth and some herbs. "Hold still," he instructed, pressing the cloth against Renrou's arm to staunch the bleeding.
As they sat in the stillness, the only sound was their labored breathing and the distant rustle of the forest. The beast lay dead beside them, its blood pooling beneath its massive body.
"What... was that thing?" Renrou muttered, his voice trembling slightly.
"I don't know," Nicolas replied, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the creature. "But it's not like any Wesen I've ever seen."
"Let's just hope there aren't more like it," Nicolas said grimly, his gaze drifting to the dark woods ahead. "Because if there are, we're in for a long night."
The next morning dawned cold and misty. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth, and the rising sun barely pierced the thick canopy of trees above. A pale light filtered through the dense fog, casting everything in shades of gray. The twisted trunks of ancient trees loomed in the distance, their gnarled branches stretching out like skeletal arms. A faint rustle echoed through the woods, accompanied by the distant calls of birds, though the forest seemed unnaturally quiet, as if it was holding its breath.
Nicolas stirred from his light sleep, wincing as his arm throbbed, a reminder of the battle they had fought just the night before. He glanced over at Renrou, who was already awake, crouched by the dying embers of their small campfire. His friend seemed surprisingly energetic for someone who had been crushed by a monstrous wolf just hours earlier. The bandage on Renrou's arm was clean, no blood seeping through, and there was an odd brightness in his eyes that Nicolas couldn't quite place.
Nicolas slowly sat up, groaning slightly as he stretched his stiff limbs. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice rough from sleep.
Renrou looked up, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Better than I should, I think."
"You should be resting," Nicolas muttered, rubbing his neck. "That injury—"
"It's nothing," Renrou interrupted, standing up with surprising ease. "I feel good, Nicolas. Really. We can't go back to the village yet."
Nicolas blinked in confusion. "What do you mean? You were nearly killed last night. We should head back, regroup, and make sure you're fully healed."
Renrou shook his head, his expression resolute. "The village is in danger. If there are more of those creatures lurking in the woods, we can't leave now. We need to hunt them down, reduce the threat as much as we can."
Nicolas frowned, his gaze drifting to the trees, which stood like silent sentinels around them. The memory of the creature, the weight of its bloodied body, and the desperate fight for survival replayed in his mind. "But you're injured," he insisted. "You could barely breathe last night."
Renrou flexed his arm, lifting it to show the bandaged wound. "I don't know what happened, but it's almost healed. It doesn't even hurt anymore." He unwrapped the cloth, revealing smooth skin underneath, with only a faint scar where the gash had been. "See?"
Nicolas stared, dumbfounded. His eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion creeping into his mind. How could a wound like that heal so quickly? It had been deep—he'd been sure Renrou would need weeks to recover, yet here he was, standing strong, as if the injury had never happened. He opened his mouth to question it but then closed it again. Renrou had always been tough, but this was beyond normal. Still, Nicolas shrugged it off, deciding not to press further.
"Fine," Nicolas sighed. "But we stay close to the edge of the forest. If anything happens, we head back immediately."
Renrou smirked. "Deal."
They packed up their camp in silence, the only sound being the crackle of the fire as it finally died. The mist still clung to the forest, swirling in ghostly tendrils around their legs as they began their trek deeper into the woods. The eerie silence of the Gloamwood persisted, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or distant howl.
Days passed, each blending into the next as they roamed the forest in search of more creatures. The woods were vast and unrelenting, filled with unseen dangers lurking just beyond the fog. They encountered beasts—strange and twisted things, but none as fearsome as the wolf they had slain. Each fight tested their resolve, but as the days went on, Nicolas couldn't shake the feeling that something was changing.