In the depths of the dark forest, eight shadowed figures clad in dark armor moved swiftly through the night. Each step heavy with urgency, their movements sharp and slightly rushed.
Tave watched them silently, through the eyes of Fang, who had continued to monitor the demons' movements tirelessly.
And even after only a single day of loosening that surveillance, the change was striking.
There were only eight left now.
Apparently, something had gotten to them. Judging from their condition, they had either encountered a powerful monster or faced some kind of serious obstacle. One of them was dead, and several others bore visible injuries.
But more importantly… they weren't heading in Tave's direction.
Their path veered away from his group, creating just enough distance for a thin breath of relief.
For now, they were safe. There would be no confrontation, yet.
