The hours crawled by, dragging the weight of the night with them.
The fire, once roaring, had now settled into a quiet crackle, sending faint tendrils of smoke spiraling into the star-flecked sky.
Crickets chirped tirelessly in the distance, their rhythmic symphony filling the gaps left by the occasional rustling of leaves in the wind. Above, the crescent moon hung like a blade of silver, illuminating the clearing where the group had made their camp.
Evan stood a little way from the fire, his boots crunching softly against the dirt as he shifted his weight.
His face, though recently washed, still bore traces of dried blood near his temple, the cut across his forehead now cleaned but still raw.
His shirt—a white, neatly tucked garment he had scavenged from the couple's luggage—was wrinkled but clean, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The brown trousers he wore were a size too large, cinched awkwardly at the waist with a makeshift belt. The boots, though sturdy, pinched at his toes, reminding him with each step that they weren't his- a sharp contrast to the prisoner rag which he had been forced to wear as an attire.
He tilted his head back, gazing up at the heavens. The stars were breathtaking—sharp pinpricks of light scattered across the dark canvas.
'I sure do miss this. Taking a moment to appreciate everything, my freedom. Back then I disregarded spending my time in nature, but right now...'
The sight was humbling, almost poetic in its serenity. But as Evan stood there, staring into the abyss of the night sky, something else tugged at his attention—a faint glow in the corner of his vision.
It wasn't from the fire or the
stars.
[System Notification]
[Congratulations, Player! You have begun the Trial of Courage.]
[Task 1: Survive]
[Progress: Incomplete]
Evan's heart skipped a beat. The faint golden text shimmered in his peripheral vision, hovering as if etched into the air itself. He blinked rapidly, but the notification remained, stark and unyielding against the darkness.
'...I have to deal with this...."Survive"? What the hell is this supposed to mean? Maybe it wants me to survive the night maybe...maybe.'
His mind raced as he stared at the floating words, half expecting them to vanish.
Instead, they lingered.
' But there's peace…' Evan thought, his fingers brushing against the hilt of the dagger at his side.
'What does it even mean? Haven't I already survived? The knights, the bear, the Lord … Haven't I already done enough?...Haven't I survived already? Goddamnit.'
[Progress: Incomplete]
The notification didn't answer. It simply stared back, impassive and unrelenting.
Evan clenched his teeth.
"What kind of game is this?" he muttered under his breath.
"Trial of Courage? Task one? What happens after I survive?"
As if in response, the words flickered for a moment, then faded from view, leaving him alone with the silence of the forest.
Evan exhaled shakily, his breath clouding in the chill air.
His moment of reflection was interrupted by a faint noise—a soft, insistent.
"Psst!"—coming from the direction of the couple tied to the tree. Evan turned his head sharply, his gaze narrowing.
The man, was gesturing with his bound hands, his face pale and strained in the flickering firelight.
'He wants to talk to me? This can't be good.'
Evan hesitated, glancing back at Victor and Vin.
They didn't seem to have noticed. He took a cautious step toward the man, his boots scuffing the dirt.
"What do you want?" Evan whispered, crouching down to meet the man's desperate gaze.
The man's voice was low, trembling with a mixture of fear and urgency.
"Please." he began, his words spilling out in a rush.
"Let us go. I—I can make you rich. Whatever amount you ask, I can pay it. Just… just name your price."
Evan blinked, taken aback by the offer. He opened his mouth, a sharp retort forming on his tongue, but again, the man cut him off.
"I swear it," the man continued, his voice cracking.
"You let us go, and I'll make you the richest man you've ever known. Gold, jewels, anything you desire. Just—"
"Stop." Evan raised a hand, his expression hardening.
"I'm not interested in money."
The man's eyes widened in disbelief, as though he had seen a ghost.
"Not interested in money? What kind of man says no to gold? What—what do you want, then? Power? Land? A title?"
Evan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I want you to stop talking before you get yourself in more trouble. If my comrades overhear what you're trying to do-"
The man's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.
"Please. You have to understand—my wife and I, we're newlyweds. Her father… he never approved of me. Said I couldn't protect her, that I wasn't a man. If—if we die here, it'll prove him right...If anyone had to die, please, let it be me. Spare my beloved."
Evan stared at the man, the weight of his words settling heavily in the air between them.
A faint rustling behind him made him glance back, ensuring Victor and Vin were still occupied.
The frightened man leaned forward, his voice dropping further.
"Cut the ropes—just enough for me to work them loose with my teeth. We'll escape when your comrades are at rest. I'll find you later and pay you. I swear it."
Evan's jaw tightened.
"Even if I believed you, it doesn't matter. No one's getting hurt tonight."
The man shook his head, his voice trembling.
"How can I trust you? Would you trust someone holding your life in their hands and had robbed you and your loved one not too long ago?"
Evan didn't answer immediately. The answer was obvious.
Instead, he glanced back at Victor and Vin, his thoughts churning.
'Would I?...Obviously not. That'd be foolish....but in this case, he doesn't have a choice.'
After a long pause, he met the man's gaze.
"You'll just have to take my word for it."
The man exhaled shakily, his shoulders sagging.
"Your word… I suppose that's all I can do. Atleast tell me, what's your name?"
"Evan."
He nodded.
"I'm Henry. This is Susan." He gestured toward the woman beside him, who was silent but watching with wide, fearful eyes.
"You make a beautiful couple... It wouldn't be much for me to hear how you two met." Evan said softly, though his voice was tinged with bitterness.
Henry's lips twitched into a grim smile.
"You're the last person I'd want to tell our story to, no offense intended."
Evan almost chuckled, but the weight of the situation crushed any humor.
Before he could respond, movement near the carriage drew his attention.
Victor and Vin had stopped rummaging through the luggage and were now speaking in hushed tones, their heads close together. Every so often, they cast glances toward Henry and Susan.
'What're they talking about...' Evan wondered as he caught a glimpse of their action.
He rose to his feet, brushing dirt from his trousers.
"Excuse me."
he murmured to Henry before striding toward Victor and Vin.
"What's going on?" he asked, his tone low but firm.
"We don't have enough food to hold the three of us, and now, we have to worry about feeding the couple as well." Victor replied.
"Okay...we'll make it work...what's the issue?"
Victor turned, his expression unusually serious.
"Vin's come up with a plan."
Evan frowned. "What kind of plan?"
Victor's eyes gleamed coldly in the firelight as he returned his gaze to Evan.
"One that ensures that we'll have enough food for ourselves and those two never have to worry about food—not for tomorrow, not for the days to come, not for the winters to come."
"...which is."
Evan's chest tightened as Vin stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
"Simple." Vin said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"We kill them."
The world seemed to freeze. The distant chirping of the crickets dulled, the crackling of the fire became a muted hum.
For a moment, he thought he'd misheard- yes, perhaps that was what had happened.
"What did you say?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Vin met his gaze, unflinching, as if discussing the weather.
"We kill them," he repeated.
"The man and his wife. They have nothing to offer but burdens. With them gone, we'll have food enough for ourselves. We'll move faster too and besides, no loose ends."
Evan's hands clenched at his sides, his mind reeling. The casual cruelty of the suggestion made his stomach churn.
He glanced back at Henry and Susan, still tied up, oblivious to the conversation that held their fate.
Henry's head rested against his wife's shoulder, his eyes closed as if he dared to hope for mercy.
The firelight cast shadows across Vin's face, but there was no shadow of doubt in his expression. He was serious. Deadly serious.