After the colossal tree collapsed, the shock still echoed through the dense woodland. Leaves fluttered down like dead butterflies, caught in the aftershock. But the moment wasn't over—not even close.
From the opposite direction of the fallen tree, a second disturbance stirred. A billowing dust cloud was forming—thick, fast, and approaching quickly. It kicked up rocks and branches in its wake, howling as it rolled between the trees like a vengeful storm.
Felior's voice rang sharp and commanding. "Prepare for battle!"
Her words struck like a whip, snapping the party into readiness. Every hand darted to weapon hilts, every foot dug into the forest floor, and every pair of eyes locked on the growing blur in the dust-cloud's heart.
They were deep in the woods now—too deep to be comfortable. Something should have attacked them by now. And this... this felt like it.
"This is—" Luke began, his eyes narrowing. Unlike the others, his vision reached farther, piercing the dusty veil.
He paused. His brows twitched slightly.
What emerged from the haze wasn't the looming figure of a creature. It wasn't a beast with snapping fangs or dripping claws.
It was... people.
Two silhouettes. Running.
The cloud of dust had been raised not by clawed paws or thundering hooves, but by frantic human feet. Their sprint exaggerated the moment, making it feel like the storm of a monster. But they were just running—terrified.
And yet, what they were running from remained hidden behind that same wall of dust.
Luke's party held their positions, tense, watching.
"What's going on?" Persin asked, sweat running down his brow as he gripped the hilt of his dagger with whitening knuckles.
"Probably some weaklings running from a few wolves," Tergil scoffed, unsheathing his sword with practiced confidence. He stepped forward with an almost casual gait.
Felior kept her eyes forward, jaw tight. "Well, whatever it is they're running from, we should help them."
Luke, still holding Jevon's limp, unconscious body on his back, frowned inwardly. 'Aren't we supposed to be running from~ the danger?'
As the silhouettes got closer, their forms became clearer: a boy and a girl, both barely upright. Their uniforms—muddy and torn—made it clear they were students from the same academy. The girl's face was streaked with dried blood, while the boy held his shoulder tightly, the fabric around it soaked in red.
They were battered, breathless, and limping as if they had been running for hours straight.
"We have to go help them!!" Felior shouted, eyes wide with concern.
"Oh, come on. We don't even know what they're running from," Persin objected, though his voice lacked his usual edge.
"Finally showing your true colors, huh?" Tergil chuckled, his sword glinting in the sunlight as he took another step forward. "If you can't handle it, then stay far back."
Felior glanced toward Luke briefly, expecting him to follow, but found him… frozen.
Luke wasn't looking at the running students.
He was staring upwards—into the forest canopy.
Felior hesitated. 'What's he...looking..at?'
Then she shook the thought from her mind. No, I should first focus on saving them. With that, she burst into motion, running to intercept the injured pair.
Tergil ran right behind her, his grin wide and his posture relaxed. Persin hissed under his breath, clicking his tongue, but followed them anyway.
Only Luke remained still.
Jevon stirred weakly on his back, mumbling incoherently.
Luke's eyes were focused, sharp. 'I saw it. I'm sure I saw movement up there…'
The leaves above rustled slightly—too slightly. There was no breeze. The air was still, like nature itself was holding its breath.
Time slowed.
Felior and the others drew closer to the injured duo. Each step toward them felt heavier than the last, as if the forest itself were resisting the approach.
The two students looked up, relief flashing in their eyes—
—and then everything stopped.
Felior blinked once.
Splatter.
Blood sprayed into the air in a fine mist.
Two heads rolled across the forest floor, stopping at Felior's feet.
She froze, wide-eyed. Her mouth opened, but no words came. She stared at the severed heads, the fresh blood staining the grass, the lifeless eyes staring back at her.
'They're… dead…' Felior thought, panic rising as sweat poured from her brow. She didn't even know their names.
Tergil stood frozen, his cocky grin wiped clean.
'What… I just blinked... and they were…' he thought, heart thumping against his ribs like a war drum.
Persin's hand trembled. A speed-type beast? No…
His eyes darted around. 'That was no creature, They waited till we got closer to act..
That was someone.'
Then came the voice—light, amused, and wrong in all the worst ways.
"The bait worked. Hahaha! Look at your faces—you're acting like someone just died in front of you!"
From the treetops descended a figure with a twirl, landing atop the fallen tree with unnatural grace.
A man.
That voice. That grin.
It was Kukuri.
He tilted his head at them, smile as wide as ever, eyes bright like a child admiring his artwork.
"Oh, wait. My bad… Sorry for your loss," he added, in a sing-song tone, as if mocking their grief.
The smile did not leave his face. Not even for a second.
Luke's expression had hardened. His arms were tight around Jevon, but his gaze never left Kukuri.
Not once.