The sun is brilliant today, spilling golden light across the Western Guard Camp. The sky is a boundless blue, unmarred by clouds, and the scent of warming earth fills the air. Morning dew still clings to the blades of grass, shimmering as it catches the light, but the ground is already firm beneath our boots.
A perfect day.
Yet, even under this flawless sky, there is unease.
Something lingers in the air—something unseen, something whispered.
I feel it in the way the soldiers move, their voices lower than usual, their glances more frequent. It is not the tension of war, nor the uncertainty of our presence. It is something else.
Something new.
——
We walk through the camp, weaving between soldiers and preparing for the day. Some are polishing their weapons, others tending to mounts or packing supplies. Conversations drift through the air—scattered, mundane.
And yet—
One name keeps surfacing, slipping through the cracks of casual speech.
Red Nose.
At first, I don't think much of it.
But then I hear it again.
And again.
And every time, the tone is the same—hushed, uneasy, cautious.
I glance at Elias, who is already frowning. His posture has shifted slightly, his hands loosely at his sides, fingers flexing—not quite tense, but ready.
He's noticed it too.
——
We stop near a supply post, where a group of guards are deep in conversation. They do not immediately notice us, their focus entirely on each other.
"You're sure?" one of them asks, his brows furrowed.
A second soldier—taller, with a scar down his cheek—nods grimly. "Confirmed it this morning. Tracks heading east. He's been seen near the old Imp ruins."
A third man swears under his breath. "That bastard was supposed to be gone. What the hell is he doing back now?"
Elias clears his throat, stepping forward. "Pardon the interruption," he says smoothly, tilting his head. "But who exactly is 'that bastard'?"
The group turns to face us, surprised but not immediately hostile. Their gazes flick over Elias, then to me. Then—seeing Edan standing just behind us—they exchange glances, as if deciding how much to say.
Eventually, the tallest soldier exhales, rubbing his temple.
"You really don't know?"
Elias shrugs. "Enlighten me."
——
The Name That Should Not Be Spoken
"Red Nose," the man begins, lowering his voice. "Not his real name, obviously, but that's what people call him."
Edan folds his arms, his expression unreadable. "A bandit?"
The soldier shakes his head. "Worse. Or at least, he was."
He pauses, then sighs.
"He used to be human. A warrior, if you can believe it. But something happened. Something—wrong. His body twisted, his mind shattered, and now he's…"
He grimaces, struggling for the right word.
"A beast."
——
A chill crawls down my spine.
Not because I fear monsters.
But because I recognise that description.
Because I have seen what happens when something meant to be human is no longer human.
Elias tilts his head. "And you said he was supposed to be gone?"
The scarred soldier nods. "We thought he'd been dealt with. He vanished months ago—no sightings, no attacks. The Imps that used to follow him scattered, their forces in disarray. But now…"
His fingers tighten.
"He's back."
——
The group falls into a heavy silence.
And then Edan speaks.
"Is there any record of what caused his transformation?"
The question is casual, but I hear what he's really asking.
What he means is:
Was it a Black Spirit?
The soldiers exchange glances again, but this time, there is no hesitation.
"Everyone knows," one mutters. "It was black power. That cursed thing twisted him, drove him mad."
Elias and I exchange glances.
And for the first time, I see something in his eyes that I don't often see.
Something almost like… recognition.
Because if Red Nose was twisted by a Black Spirit—
If the connection was severed—
Then where is it now?
——
Edan is pensive, his brows furrowed as he absorbs the information.
"Has anyone seen him up close?" he asks.
A soldier snorts. "Close enough to regret it. He's stronger than before. Bigger, too. The few scouts who spotted him said he barely even looks like a man anymore."
Elias exhales sharply. "And the Imps?"
"They've started gathering again. Not a full army, but… something's brewing."
The words send a shiver through me.
Because it is too familiar.
Because it sounds too much like something we have already seen.
A Black Spirit latches onto someone. It feeds. It changes them. And then—
Then what?
If Elias took a Black Spirit's place—
Then where does that leave the ones that already existed?
And more importantly—
If the world is trying to correct itself…
Then is Red Nose just another broken piece trying to find its place again?
——
I exhale, trying to steady my thoughts.
"This isn't just a monster problem," I murmur.
Elias tilts his head toward me. "No?"
I shake my head. "No. This is something deeper."
Something connected.
Something we do not yet understand.
——
Edan finally straightens, his expression shifting from scholar to strategist.
"This isn't something we can ignore," he says. "Even if we wanted to."
Elias runs a hand through his hair. "And what exactly are we doing? Charging in and asking the guy nicely to explain why he's a monster?"
Edan exhales. "No. First, we gather more information. If the Imps are reorganising, someone is leading them. We need to find out if it's really him."
He looks at the soldiers. "Who else knows about this?"
One of them shrugs. "A few. It's spreading fast, but most people think it's just rumours."
Elias smirks. "Well, that won't last long."
——
We step away from the group, letting their conversation drift back into the morning air.
Edan is already lost in thought, his mind moving ten steps ahead, considering the implications.
Elias?
He looks troubled.
And me?
I feel something in my chest—something small, something clawing, tightening, whispering.
This world is trying to fix itself.
But it is not doing so kindly.
If Red Nose is a byproduct of that correction—
Then what does that mean for Elias?
And for me?