The Road of No Return
"Damn it... Zeco, I really don't know what to do anymore," Carla whispered, her voice trembling like someone standing at the edge of a cliff, hoping for a sliver of light to guide her.
Zeco didn't answer right away. He lowered his head in silence, but his mind drifted far away—to the voice of his older brother, Murphy, whose words now lived only in memory.
He slowly lifted his head, looking at Carla with eyes full of resolve. "Take that path," he said firmly.
In a hidden chamber cloaked in pitch darkness, only the dim glow of a floating magic orb lit the space. Joker stood in the center, shrouded in shadows like a king in a grim game.
"Where are they now?" he asked coldly.
"At the moment, her soul is weakening. Either from illness... or maybe she's dying. My magic can no longer clearly sense her spiritual force," replied a robed man, his hands moving in an endless ritual.
Joker narrowed his eyes. "And the other Elemental Users? Have you ensured they won't interfere?"
"Everything is proceeding according to your plan, Joker. Not a single one of them can meddle. The island has been completely sealed—no creature from the outside can step foot on it. All thanks to the High Ones... who have now taken your former place."
Joker grinned. A small chuckle escaped his throat, then erupted into cruelty.
"Ha... Hahaha... HAHAHAHA! You'll die by my hands, bastard," he muttered, gazing at the ceiling with bloodthirsty eyes.
They took the shortcut. A path considered cursed even by daylight, and now they were traveling it as dusk rotted into night.
Two hours passed without incident. But as the twilight swallowed the last of the sun, danger arrived.
"Sir, Miss... be ready," said the Uncle, his voice sharp but steady. "If we can't withstand their attack, we turn back. There's no negotiation in this territory."
Carla nodded slowly. She glanced at Zeco, and their eyes met in a silence filled with meaning.
"Alright, Uncle. Don't worry. We're ready," she said.
When the sun had fully vanished, the night's silence, once merely eerie, became real. On the hill, a howl echoed—long, deep, and soul-piercing.
Wolves.
Suddenly, from all directions, the creatures emerged—arctic wolves, larger and wilder than the legends. They attacked. The carriage shook violently. Uncle struggled to maintain control, pulling the reins with all his might to avoid crashing into the trees.
"They're coming!" Carla shouted, pointing behind. Her breath caught as she saw a flurry of white shadows racing toward them like a snowstorm.
Zeco gripped his sword tightly. Murphy's last words echoed in his mind:
"Be my eyes out there. Protect them. But also... find your own answer."
He turned, looking at Carla with unwavering determination.
Carla opened the carriage door. The night wind surged in, carrying the scent of snow and danger.
"Take care of yourself, Zeco... I... trust you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the roar of wheels.
Zeco gave a slow nod. "This is my stage. And now, it's time for me to dance among the wolves."
With a single breath, he leapt out. His sword drawn, his body merged with the shadows.
But just as the door was closing, something flew out—a newspaper that Carla had kept, now flung loose by the sudden jolt.
Carla reached for it. Too late.
"Damn... no... he mustn't see that..."
The newspaper fluttered lightly, then landed before Zeco like a message from fate.
Mid-battle, Zeco paused, his breath ragged as he stared at the paper.
He read it.
"MURPHY THE LEGEND EXECUTED — MAJOR VIOLATION THAT DESTROYED VIKING BROTHERHOOD."
Zeco's hand trembled. His sword dropped a few inches. The world seemed to freeze.
Wolves don't wait for human emotions.
From the shadows, they leapt in unison.