The forest loomed dense and dark as Elijah, Visconti, and Kieran ventured deeper into its labyrinthine expanse. The air was heavy with dampness and the faint hum of crickets, broken suddenly by the sharp clash of steel and desperate cries.
Ahead, they saw a girl in their academy uniform locked in a ferocious fight against a man clad in the same black robe as the attacker Elijah had encountered earlier.
Though the robe was identical, Elijah could tell by the man's build and movements that this was someone different. A quick glance exchanged among the three of them confirmed their shared resolve: they had to intervene.
Kieran immediately sprang into action, leaping nimbly onto a sturdy branch above for a better vantage point. "Weapon Inventory, Visible Mode!" he commanded, and with a faint hum, a glowing red weapon inventory materialized before him. Inside the inventory were an array of weapons—katanas, spears, bows, and more. He reached for a sleek bow and a quiver of arrows.
"Hurry it up," Visconti called, tapping his foot impatiently.
"Relax," Kieran snapped, rolling his eyes. He grabbed two arrows, a cocky smirk forming. "Let's see how this guy likes some fireworks."
Visconti muttered under his breath, "Show-off," but the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.
As Kieran prepared his shot, Visconti acted first, slamming his palms to the ground. Frost crept rapidly from his hands, freezing the man's feet in place. "You're not going anywhere," Visconti said smugly.
Kieran drew the bowstring back, infusing the two arrows with a bright, flickering flame. The fiery glow lit up the canopy as he released them in rapid succession. The first arrow buried itself in the man's left shoulder, eliciting a pained grunt. The second struck his left knee, forcing him to buckle.
"You brats think this is enough to take me down?" the man bellowed, wrenching himself forward despite the frozen shackles.
Elijah didn't wait for more threats. Sword in hand, he sprinted toward the man, activating his sword aura. A faint blue light shimmered along the blade as he swung with precision, severing the man's left arm in a single stroke.
"AHHH!" The man screamed, blood pooling around him. Elijah stepped closer, pointing the sword's tip at the man's throat. "Who are you people?" Elijah demanded, his voice ice-cold.
"And why should I answer you?" the man spat, blood dribbling down his chin.
"If you don't..." Elijah pressed the blade harder against the man's skin. "I'll kill you."
The man's lips curled into a crazed grin. "You're trembling," he taunted. "Can you even do it?"
Elijah's knuckles whitened as he gripped the sword tighter, his breathing uneven. Before he could act, Kieran stepped forward, firing another arrow straight into the man's head. The body slumped lifelessly.
Kieran walked over, placing a hand on Elijah's shoulder. "It's okay," he said quietly.
Elijah clenched his sword, his knuckles white. He knew what Kieran meant. He was talking about the burden of killing.
"You don't have to do it," Kieran continued. "I'll take care of it. After all, it's not my first time."
Elijah lowered his sword, but his jaw clenched. He knew Kieran was trying to shield him and Visconti from the psychological toll, but deep down, Elijah felt conflicted. He glanced at Kieran, who wore a nonchalant expression, though his hands trembled ever so slightly.
A soft, trembling voice interrupted their moment. "Um... thank you for saving me," the girl said, her hands fidgeting nervously.
Visconti, ever the practical one, cut to the point. "No need to thank us. Where's your team?"
At that, the girl broke down, tears streaming down her face. "They're dead," she sobbed. "That man killed them." She pointed shakily toward a cluster of lifeless bodies nearby.
The three boys exchanged awkward glances. None of them were good at comforting people.
Before anyone could speak, an unexpected voice piped up from the ground beneath them. "If you're done with your pity party, can someone help me out here?"
The group jumped in shock, their gazes snapping downward. A severed head, battered and dirtied, lay among the foliage, its mouth moving as it addressed them.
"AHHHHH!" Kieran and the girl screamed in unison.
Elijah, though startled, crouched down and picked up the head by its messy hair. "How can we help you?" he asked, surprisingly composed.
The head blinked at him, as if this situation were completely normal. "I need to find my body. But as you can see, I can't exactly walk."
"Where's your body?" Elijah asked, already regretting engaging with the disembodied head.
"Over there, on the left," the head said, gesturing with its eyes.
Elijah followed the direction, the others trailing cautiously behind him. They first stumbled upon an arm tangled in undergrowth. "Is this yours?"
"Right wrist, actually," the head clarified.
"This is so creepy," Kieran muttered, glancing around nervously.
The girl trailed behind them, clutching her arms tightly. She hadn't said a word since the head began speaking.
"Turn right," the head instructed.
Elijah obeyed and found a pair of legs tangled in vines. He dragged them back to the clearing.
Piece by piece, they gathered the head's limbs and torso, each find more grotesque than the last. Finally, with the head's guidance, they found its torso and legs, scattered amidst a clearing. Elijah set everything down on the ground, sighing deeply.
"This is absurd," Kieran muttered, glaring at the head.
"Less complaining, more assembling!" the head chirped.
Elijah reluctantly began arranging the pieces like a morbid jigsaw puzzle.
Visconti, who had been silently observing, chimed in. "Is this some kind of magic? Or... what exactly are you?"
"I'm human, obviously," the head snapped. "Just a bit cursed."
"A "bit" cursed?" Kieran scoffed.
Once the body was fully assembled, the headless torso twitched unnervingly before grabbing its own head and reattaching it. There was a sickening crunch as bones and flesh melded together. The man groaned, rolling his shoulders as though nothing unusual had occurred.
"Much better," he said, brushing dirt off his tattered robes.
The girl hid behind Visconti, trembling. "W-who are you?"
The man smiled, revealing sharp teeth. "Ah. I'm a student, just like you, but I'm a scout."
The man was making something with clay.
"What kind of gift is that?" Elijah asked curiously as he saw the dolls moved.
"You really think he's just going to tell us? Telling someone your gift is like giving away your trade secret." Visconti said.
"They're clay dolls." The man replied nonchalantly.
The man shrugged. "You helped me out, so that's the least I can tell you.