Night descended upon The Grey Woods like a heavy, suffocating velvet curtain. No moon, no stars. Only absolute darkness, occasionally broken by the flash of beast eyes in the distance.
The Black-Iron Carriage bumped along the narrowing dirt road. Its wooden wheels, though magically reinforced, creaked in protest every time they hit a protruding tree root.
Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was almost as gloomy as outside.
Vaelen sat with his eyes closed, yet he wasn't sleeping. He was metabolizing the remnant energy of Fenrir churning in his new meridians. It felt like drinking coffee that was too strong; his heart raced, his nerves tightened. The hunger of The Entropy System was silent, but the itch to hunt remained.
Isolde sat across from him, staring at the weakly flickering horse control crystal.
"The horses are tired," Isolde whispered, breaking the long silence. "Their wounds have opened again. We have to stop."
Vaelen opened one eye. In the dark, his grey iris reflected the blue light of the control crystal in an unsettling way.
"Stopping here is like putting up a 'Free Buffet' sign for night monsters," Vaelen said.
"They will die if forced to keep running!" Isolde retorted, her voice rising slightly. "These are Spirit Steeds. They are intelligent and loyal, but their physiology remains that of living creatures. If they collapse, we have to walk."
Vaelen fell silent for a moment. Logical calculation. This carriage was their mobile fortress asset. Losing the propulsion engine (horses) meant losing the protection of this iron armor.
"Fine," Vaelen agreed, more out of logic than empathy. "Find a spot with solid ground and a back protected by a cliff or a large tree. We rest for four hours. No more."
***
The carriage stopped in a small alcove under the shade of a giant Ghost Banyan tree. Hanging roots dangled like natural curtains, hiding the carriage's silhouette from the main road.
Vaelen stepped down first, his longsword already drawn. He performed a 360-degree visual scan.
[Perception Check]
[Area: Low Threat (Current). Atmosphere: Stagnant.]
[Detection: Minor scuttling sounds nearby (Scavengers).]
"Get out. But don't stray far from the door," Vaelen ordered.
Isolde stepped down, her legs wobbling slightly as they touched the muddy ground. Her noble dress was now permanently stained at the hem. She immediately approached the two spirit horses whose breath was heaving and frothy.
The girl placed her hands on the black horse's neck. Pale blue light glowed from her palms—basic level water element healing magic.
Vaelen observed from three meters away, leaning against the carriage body. He chewed on a piece of hard cheese looted from the bandits.
"Rank 8, Initial Stage," Vaelen commented suddenly.
Isolde turned in surprise, the magic light in her hands flickering. "What?"
"Your cultivation. I can feel it from the Mana fluctuations when you healed that horse," Vaelen said while swallowing his cheese. "You are an Ascended (Rank 6-4 on the common scale, or Rank 8 in Vaelen's reversed/detailed system perspective). Theoretically, your Mana is far denser than mine, who is still Rank 9."
(Note: The Rank System in this world descends. 9 (Mortal) -> 8-7 (Adept) -> 6-5 (Ascended). So Isolde at Rank 8 is an "Elite Apprentice Mage".)
"I-I was the third-best graduate in the Ice magic preparatory class," Isolde said defensively, a hint of pride in her tone.
"Best graduate," Vaelen sneered. "But back in the gorge, when your guards were slaughtered, you just sat inside the carriage like a porcelain doll. You had the Mana to freeze those bandits, why didn't you do it?"
Isolde looked down, biting her lip. "I... Uncle Roderick said I must be protected. My duty is to survive, not fight. And... I have never..."
"...killed?" Vaelen cut in.
Isolde nodded stiffly. "My magic is for academic duels and demonstrations. Not for tearing flesh."
Vaelen let out a short laugh. Not a humorous laugh, but a dismissive one.
He walked closer, looking Isolde right in the eye.
"Listen, Miss. The world outside your castle walls doesn't care about your exam scores. A Rank 9 Monster can kill a Rank 8 Mage if that mage hesitates for even a second."
Vaelen pointed to the darkness of the forest surrounding them.
"Tonight, you are not a Princess. You are artillery. If something attacks, you shoot. If you hesitate, we both die. Understand?"
Before Isolde could answer, Vaelen turned away. "And one more thing. Do not light a campfire."
"But... it's freezing," Isolde protested, hugging herself. The night forest temperature was near zero degrees. Their breath was visible as steam. "And the horses need warmth."
"Fire invites attention," Vaelen said coldly. "Monsters in The Grey Woods aren't afraid of fire like normal animals. They are attracted to it. They learned that where there is fire, there is tender human meat."
Vaelen threw a rough wool blanket—belonging to a bandit—at Isolde. It smelled musty, but it was thick.
"Use this. Or you can sleep inside the carriage and hope the door is strong enough to withstand a Bear-Owl bite."
Vaelen himself climbed onto the carriage roof. He would keep watch there. The high position gave him a tactical advantage.
Isolde stared at the dirty blanket in her hands with disgust, then looked at Vaelen's back on the roof. Finally, she sighed, covered the horses with warm magic for a moment, then went back inside the carriage, clutching the bandit blanket tightly.
It was her first night as a fugitive, and it felt far lonelier than she had ever imagined.
***
Three hours passed.
Vaelen sat cross-legged on the carriage roof. His eyes were closed, but his system-enhanced Perception extended like a spiderweb.
The forest never slept. He heard the crack of broken branches, the whoosh of wind in the leaves, and the slow beat of Isolde's heart beneath him.
Suddenly, a new sound appeared.
A wet sound. Like someone dragging a sack of wet meat over mud.
Slurp... scrape... slurp...
Not one. There were three... four... five sound sources.
Vaelen's eyes snapped open.
[Enemy Detected: Pale Ghoul (Scavenger)]
[Rank: 9 (Middle Stage)]
[Behavior: Pack Hunters. Drawn by the smell of Fenrir's blood on the carriage wheels.]
"Sharp noses," Vaelen muttered. He drew his sword slowly, trying not to make the sound of metal scraping.
Vaelen leaned over the roof edge and tapped the carriage window three times with his heel. Danger code.
"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," he hissed.
The carriage window vibrated. Isolde's panicked face was dimly visible behind the glass.
The next second, from the dense purple bushes, a figure leaped.
It was a Ghoul. Its body looked like a human skinned and soaked in water for a month—bloated, pale, slimy. Its teeth were long and sparse. Its eyes were blind, just large nostrils sniffing around.
"GRAAAH!" The Ghoul lunged at the carriage wheel, trying to bite the wood that still smelled of blood.
"Trash." Vaelen jumped down from the roof.
WHOOSH.
He landed right on top of the first Ghoul, driving his sword into the creature's spine.
CRACK! SPLAT!
Foul black blood sprayed. Vaelen pulled his sword and kicked the corpse away.
However, that death scream was a dinner bell.
Four other Ghouls appeared simultaneously from the darkness. They were thin, fast, and hungry. They weren't afraid. They smelled tastier prey inside the carriage.
"Two to the left, two to the right," Vaelen analyzed quickly.
Two Ghouls ran toward the spirit horses. If the horses died, Vaelen and Isolde were finished (stuck walking).
"ISOLDE! GET OUT AND PROTECT THE HORSES!" Vaelen shouted while intercepting two Ghouls on the right side.
The carriage door burst open. Isolde jumped down, a short crystal wand in her hand. Her face was deathly pale seeing the horrific creatures.
"What... what is that?!" she screamed.
"Don't ask for names! Kill them before they bite your horse's neck!"
Vaelen was busy. One Ghoul leaped at him with claws outstretched. Vaelen parried with his sword, then used his knee to smash the creature's stomach. But the Ghoul felt no pain. The creature instead tried to bite Vaelen's knee.
Vaelen snorted, activating [Abyssal Step].
He vanished to the side, then decapitated the Ghoul from behind.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the carriage...
Two Ghouls lunged at the tethered horses. The spirit horses neighed in panic, trying to kick, but their ropes limited their movement.
"N-No! Glacial Spire!" Isolde cast a spell frantically.
A blue magic circle appeared on the ground. An ice spear one meter high jutted out.
Crack!
But it missed. The ice spear appeared one meter to the side of the Ghoul, hitting only empty air. The Ghoul turned to Isolde, grinning with a mouth full of slime.
Target changed. Fresh meat prey was more attractive than tough horse meat.
The Ghoul ran crawling with spider-speed toward Isolde.
Isolde stepped back, tripped over a tree root, and fell on her backside.
"V-Vaelen!"
Vaelen had just stabbed his third Ghoul. He turned. He could use Abyssal Step to save Isolde, but the distance was a bit far. His Mana/Qi would be drained significantly.
But more importantly: Vaelen wanted to see something.
"GET UP AND SHOOT ITS HEAD!" Vaelen shouted, not moving to help her. "Use Ice Shard! Close range! Don't aim at the ground, idiot! Aim for the chest!"
"I-I can't..." Isolde trembled, the Ghoul was only two meters away. The stench was already palpable.
"SHOOT OR DIE! CHOOSE!" Vaelen barked with a voice more terrifying than the Ghoul itself.
The fear of death—and intimidation from Vaelen—forced Isolde's survival instincts to take over.
Isolde squeezed her eyes shut, screamed, and thrust her wand forward.
"PIERCE!"
Not a complex academic spell. She released a raw mana wave converted into dozens of sharp ice shards—like a close-range shotgun.
WHOOSH!
Dozens of ice stakes hit the Ghoul mid-leap.
THWACK-THWACK-THWACK!
The Ghoul's body stopped in mid-air, shredded into frozen meat chunks. Black blood and frozen gut pieces scattered, raining down on Isolde.
Isolde opened her eyes. Her face was covered in black slime. In front of her, the pieces of the monster's corpse smoked coldly.
She froze. Then, her stomach churned.
"Urghhh!"
Isolde vomited beside the corpse. Her stomach contents emptied due to the combination of disgust and adrenaline shock.
Silence returned. Four Ghouls dead. One ran away (seeing its pack slaughtered).
Vaelen walked casually over to Isolde. He wiped the black blood from his sword onto the Ghoul corpse's pants.
He stood over Isolde who was still gasping and wiping vomit from her chin.
"Good work," Vaelen said flatly.
"What's good about it..." Isolde sobbed, tears flowing again. "That was disgusting... I almost died... You didn't help me! You just stood there!"
"You are a Rank 8 Mage. That Ghoul was just a Rank 9 Grunt. If I helped you, you would never learn to pull the trigger," Vaelen said without guilt.
He extended his clean hand (or at least the non-bloody one) to help Isolde stand.
"First lesson of survival outside the academy: Disgust fades after the tenth corpse. But a false sense of security? That will kill you on the first attempt."
Isolde stared at the hand. A rough and calloused hand.
Hesitantly, she took Vaelen's hand. The young man's grip was strong and pulled her up easily.
Isolde was still trembling, but the look in her eyes changed slightly. Fear was still there, but now mixed with a grim realization: He's right. I'm weak even though I'm strong.
"Clean yourself up. We leave now," Vaelen ordered, releasing Isolde's hand and walking to check the horses. "Ghoul blood smells rotten and will attract Corpse Moths. We can't sleep here anymore."
Isolde didn't argue about rest or campfires anymore.
She took water from a waterskin, washed the monster blood off her face, and went back inside the carriage with her lips pressed tight.
Vaelen watched her from the corner of his eye. A small notification appeared on his visual screen.
[Ally Relation Status Changed]
[Isolde Valstyx: Fear -> Respect (Cautious)]
[Bond Level: 1/10 (Transaction Phase)]
Vaelen smirked thinly in the darkness.
"At least she didn't faint," he muttered. "She might be useful someday."
Vaelen whipped the spirit horses lightly. The carriage moved again through the darkness, leaving pieces of frozen corpses behind them as a warning sign to The Grey Woods.