Leon clawed his way to the riverbank, coughing violently, his chest heaving as he expelled water from his lungs. The chill of the river clung to his skin, making every breath feel sharp and ragged. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees, spitting out the bitter taste of the current.
How did it come to this? he thought, his fingers digging into the mud beneath him. One moment, he had been fighting, steel clashing against the creatures of the forest, and the next—freefall. The hounds, the chaos, the impact—it all blurred together.
The weight of his solitude pressed down on him. The absence of his comrades left him vulnerable in an unfamiliar part of the forest. The silence was different here—almost suffocating.
He sat back on his heels, his muscles aching from the brutal collision with the water. His sword was still strapped to his waist, but everything else felt disjointed. He looked around, scanning the area. The river wound through the dense forest like a silver snake, disappearing into the distance. His surroundings were unfamiliar, the trees taller and the undergrowth thicker than where they had been before.
I have to find them. The thought anchored him, driving out the creeping tendrils of fear that clawed at the edges of his mind.
Leon pushed himself to his feet, his body protesting every movement. He needed a plan. Following the river downstream might lead him back to familiar territory, but it could also take him deeper into unknown danger. The alternative—cutting through the forest—was riskier but might reunite him with the others faster.
A sudden rustling in the bushes made him freeze. He instinctively reached for his sword, fingers curling around the hilt. His heart pounded as he strained to listen. Another rustle. Then silence.
Something's watching me.
The realization sent a shiver down his spine. He drew his blade slowly, its edge gleaming even in the dim light filtering through the canopy. His breathing slowed as he took cautious steps forward, eyes scanning the trees for movement.
Then, without warning—
SNAP!
Leon whirled around just as a creature burst from the underbrush, lunging at him with clawed hands. He barely had time to react before he swung his sword—SHING!—slicing through the air. The creature screeched as the blade grazed its side, stumbling back.
It was unlike anything he had seen before. Humanoid but twisted, with elongated limbs and dark, mottled skin. Its eyes were hollow, empty voids that sent a chill through his bones.
Leon steadied his grip. What in the hells is this?
The creature snarled and leapt again. He sidestepped—WHOOSH!—the attack barely missing him. With a quick counter, he slashed downward—SCHIING!—cutting deep into its shoulder. The creature let out a guttural howl before retreating into the shadows.
Leon panted, his muscles tensed. He didn't know what that thing was, but he knew one thing—he had to keep moving.
Leon forced himself forward, navigating through the thick underbrush, his ears tuned to the slightest sound. The forest felt different now—darker, more oppressive. Every step felt like a battle against his own exhaustion, but he refused to stop.
Hours passed, or so it felt. He had lost all sense of time. His limbs burned, his breath came in ragged gasps, but he kept moving. The thought of his grandfather, of his companions, pushed him forward.
Then, finally—
Voices.
Faint, but unmistakable.
Leon's heart leapt. He broke into a run, pushing through the last of the foliage until he stumbled into a clearing.
Arden, Jonas, Marcus, and Elena stood there, weapons raised, their eyes widening in shock as he appeared.
"Leon!" Elena gasped.
He nearly collapsed in relief. "Took you long enough," he muttered, smirking despite himself.
Arden crossed the distance in a few strides, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "You're alive."
"Barely," Leon admitted. "What happened after I fell?"
"We kept fighting," Jonas said, still catching his breath. "Took down the hounds, but by the time we realized you were gone, we couldn't track you in the dark."
"We've been searching for hours," Marcus added. "We thought we lost you."
Leon exhaled, the weight on his chest finally easing. "I'm here now."
Arden nodded. "Good. Because we have a bigger problem."
Before Leon could ask what, a new sound cut through the forest.
A distant, eerie boom.
The group turned toward the source—
A thick column of black smoke was rising from the direction of the village.
Leon's blood ran cold. His mind raced, images of his grandfather flashing through his thoughts—the old man tending to the farm, his worn hands steady despite his age. The smell of the hearth at home, the way he always grumbled about Leon's recklessness but never failed to offer a knowing smirk.
Panic tightened in his chest.
"Grandfather!" he shouted, breaking into a full sprint.
"Leon, wait!" Arden called, but the boy was already gone.
The others followed, dread settling into their hearts.
Something had happened.
Something terrible.
The wind howled through the trees as they ran, feet pounding against the earth. The acrid scent of smoke filled the air as they neared the village's outskirts. Leon's lungs burned, his legs screaming in protest, but he didn't slow down.
Then, as they crested the last hill, their worst fears were confirmed.
The village was ablaze.
Flames licked at the rooftops, black smoke billowing into the sky. The screams of villagers echoed through the night, mingling with the roar of the inferno. Shadowy figures moved through the chaos—bandits, their weapons gleaming in the firelight.
Leon's heart pounded. His grandfather—
Without hesitation, he charged forward.
The battle for the village had begun.