The journey back to the cottage was a different kind of quiet. The desperate, fearful silence from the cave had been replaced by a fragile sense of purpose. We moved through the Marrowmaw Forest as a small, makeshift caravan. Eve, with her jet-black hair and watchful crimson eyes, took the lead. Her athletic body was a study in coiled tension, her gaze constantly sweeping the shadows between the ancient, gnarled trees. She was their guardian, a role she inhabited as naturally as breathing.
In the middle, Sera and Vesper moved with a quiet efficiency, their eyes scanning the forest floor. Sera, with her lilac hair tied back with a piece of vine, pointed out clusters of earthy-smelling mushrooms. Vesper, a timid ghost in her ragged cloak, would flit forward to gently pluck ripe berries, her snow-white hair a stark contrast to the deep greens and browns of the woods. She moved with a nervous grace, her own crimson eyes darting at every sound.
I walked at the rear, the now-empty cooking pot slung over my shoulder. The position felt right. It let me watch over all of them. The silence, while comfortable, felt heavy with unasked questions. I decided to break it, my curiosity about their past a gentle nudge against the quiet.
"You said you were all that's left," I began, my voice softer than I intended. "What happened to… your parents?"
Sera, who was inspecting a mushroom, paused but didn't turn around. Her voice was quiet but steady, carrying no hint of self-pity, only a weary strength. "They died in the war, a few years back. The Duke of the north wanted our valley for its iron deposits. A 'political expansion,' he called it." She finally turned, her blue eyes meeting mine, and in them, I saw an old, deep pain. "We call it being made orphans."
The words hung in the air, simple and devastating. Before I could think of what to say to that, Sia, the golden-blonde with the warm, hazel eyes, looked back at me. "What about you, Satvik? Where are your parents?"
I looked away, focusing on a beam of sunlight filtering through the dense canopy above. The excuse felt both false and true at the same time. "I… don't know," I said, the words feeling heavy and hollow. "I can't remember."
Sia seemed to accept this, her expression softening. She dropped back from the group, her steps falling into sync with mine. Her presence was a warm, gentle hum next to me.
"Well, for someone with a hazy memory, you certainly remember how to make tasty food," she said, her voice a low, musical purr. "Thank you again for that. It was the best thing I've ever eaten."
A warmth spread across my cheeks, a feeling so foreign I almost didn't recognize it. In my old life, I was praised for my intellect, for my achievements, for papers and patents. No one had ever praised me for just… making something nice. "It's okay," I managed to say, my voice a little thick. "I'm glad you liked it."
She smiled, a slow, sultry expression that made my heart do a strange little flip in my chest. "You're quite a gentleman, Satvik."
I blushed a deep, undeniable red. I could feel the heat on my face, and I quickly looked down at the path, completely flustered. No one, let alone a woman as impossibly beautiful as Sia, had ever said anything like that to me before. I was a prodigy, a genius, a billionaire. But a gentleman? I didn't even know what that was supposed to feel like. It felt… nice. Frighteningly nice.
We walked on for a few more minutes, the comfortable silence returning. And then, it wasn't.
A sudden chill ran down my spine. It was a primal, instinctual feeling that had nothing to do with the temperature of the forest. My hearing, a gift of my new body, sharpened to an impossible degree. I could hear the faint buzz of a fly a dozen yards away. I could hear the whisper of the wind through a specific leaf. And I could hear a sound that did not belong—the heavy, rhythmic thump… thump… thump of something massive moving through the trees, trying and failing to be stealthy. The birdsong in the forest had abruptly stopped.
My instincts, a force completely separate from my conscious thought, screamed DANGER.
"Sia, look out!"
Before the words had even fully left my mouth, my body was already in motion. The world seemed to slow down, every action breaking down into a thousand tiny, precise movements. I dropped the pot with a clang. My left arm snaked around Sia's waist, pulling her out of the path and spinning her behind me, into the protective cage of my arms. At the exact same moment, my right hand shot out, my fingers closing around the shaft of the wooden spear Eve was carrying. She let out a shocked gasp, but my grip was like iron.
It all happened in less than a second.
A massive creature, a terrifying hybrid of a bald, scabby-necked vulture and a powerful, long-legged ostrich, burst from the trees. Its legs, thick as small tree trunks, kicked up dirt and leaves as it charged, its beady eyes filled with a starving, murderous intelligence. It struck at the exact spot where Sia had been standing, its huge, sharp beak snapping shut on empty air with a sound like two massive stones cracking together.
There was no time for fear. There was no time for a plan. My body took over completely.
I planted my feet, my muscles coiling into a perfect, powerful throwing stance that felt as natural as if I had been born in it. My brain, the engineer's brain, went into overdrive, not with thoughts, but with pure data. It calculated the monster's velocity, its mass, the tensile strength of the spear, the optimal launch angle, the precise amount of force required. It was the most complex physics problem I had ever faced, and I solved it in a nanosecond.
With a roar that was torn from my own throat, I launched the spear.
It didn't fly; it was a blur, a straight line of violence that cut through the air. There was a sickening, wet CRUNCH as it struck the bird square in its feathered chest, punching through hide and bone as if they were paper. But it didn't stop. The momentum was so impossibly immense that it lifted the massive bird off its feet, carrying it backward through the air.
The creature's dying screech was cut short by a final, deafening THUNK!
The spear, having passed completely through the monster, slammed into the trunk of a massive, pale-barked tree. The spearhead, a simple piece of sharpened flint, sank inches into wood, pinning the dead monster to the tree like an insect in a display case.
And then, the forest was utterly, profoundly silent.
For a long moment, no one moved. The four sisters were frozen, their faces a mask of shared, utter disbelief. Their eyes darted from the dead monster to the spear quivering in the impossibly hard wood, and finally, to me. I was still standing in the throwing stance, my chest heaving, Sia held protectively in the circle of my arm.
Sera was the first to find her voice, a choked whisper filled with awe. "Oh my gods… a one-hit kill. He killed a Carrion Strider."
Eve took a hesitant step forward, her analytical mind already racing to catch up with what her eyes had just seen. "How is that possible?" she breathed, her voice tight with shock. "That's a Silver-rank monster! You need a party of A-rank adventurers to take one down! He did it alone, and he… he pierced the Shatterwood tree too!" She reached the tree and touched the spear shaft, her fingers trembling. "My spear just… it went through. That's impossible."
Vesper, who had been hiding behind Sera, simply stared at me, her wide, crimson eyes filled with an unabashed, hero-worshipping adoration. "So handsome…" she whispered to no one in particular. "Satvik… so strong…"
Sia looked up at me from the safety of my arms, her hazel eyes shining with a new, powerful light of affection and awe. She gently untangled herself and stood on her own two feet, her gaze never leaving my face. "Thank you so much, Satvik."
I was still trying to process what had just happened, my own actions as confusing to me as they were to them. My body hummed with a residual power that was both exhilarating and terrifying. It was Eve who broke the spell, marching up to me, her earlier suspicion completely replaced by a burning, almost frantic curiosity.
"How did you do that?" she demanded, her crimson eyes searching my face for answers. "The stance, the power… that was the throw of a master spearman. I've seen the Duke's royal guards, and none of them could do that. Can you teach me?"
I shook my head, feeling a fresh wave of confusion. "I… I don't know," I said honestly. "It was just… instinct."
"Instinct?" Eve shot back, not buying it for a second. "That stance wasn't instinct. That was pure, practiced technique. How did you know how to do that?"
Before I could stammer out another weak excuse, Sera stepped forward. She had quickly checked on Sia, and seeing she was completely unharmed, now turned her attention to the interrogation.
"I'm fine," Sia said, her gaze still fixed on me. "He… he saved me."
"Eve, enough," she said, her voice calm but firm. She turned to me, her blue eyes filled with a deep, unwavering gratitude that made my breath catch in my throat. "He is our savior. That's all that matters right now. If he is not comfortable talking about it, you will not force him."
Eve looked from Sera's determined face to my confused one. She let out a sharp, frustrated sigh but finally gave a stiff nod, her arms crossed over her chest as she fell silent. The questions remained, hanging heavy in the air between us, but for now, they were overshadowed by a profound sense of awe. I looked at the four sisters, at the dead monster, and at my own trembling hands. My quiet, solitary new life was officially, irrevocably over.