The forest was a
crypt of silence
—a heavy shroud pressing down, thick with the weight of death.
The faint rustle of leaves trembled in the night breeze, fragile whispers against the mournful hoots of unseen creatures, their calls echoing like lost souls.
The air carried a
cloying stench
—damp earth soaked with blood, a bitter tang that coated the lungs and lingered like a curse.
Crimson streaks stained the mossy ground, glinting wetly under fractured moonlight spilling through
skeletal branches
, casting long, jagged shadows that clawed across the clearing.
Beno lay sprawled—a
broken silhouette
amidst the carnage, trembling with exhaustion.
Every inch of him ached—arms limp,
muscles screaming
with each twitch; legs heavy as lead, bones grinding beneath torn flesh; his chest a battlefield, each breath a
ragged rasp
under an invisible weight crushing his ribs.
He clawed at the dirt—fingers sinking into cold soil, willing his body to move—but numbness spread like
ice
, betraying him.
Damn it... I can't fall here.
The thought burned—desperate, flickering—his will clawing against the dark.
A
sharp clang
pierced the stillness—metal striking metal, a shriek slicing the night.
Beno's neck protested—a dull ache flaring—as he forced his head to turn.
His blood ran
cold
, a primal chill sinking into his marrow.
Three
cloaked figures
emerged—wraiths born from shadow, their forms materializing with eerie grace.
Deep black hoods swallowed their faces, light vanishing into voids where eyes should gleam. Their robes shimmered with
twisted crimson symbols
, pulsing faintly like living veins, a rhythm that thrummed dread into the air.
But it wasn't the robes that froze him—it was their
aura
: cold, calculated,
unnatural
, a presence so alien his instincts screamed
run
even as his body lay shattered.
They're not hunters... they're
something else
.
Before Charles could react,
cold steel
clamped his wrists—
clank
—a death knell echoing through the trees.
Iron cuffs bit deep, edges cutting into flesh,
blood trickling
down his forearms in thin, dark rivers. The shadows moved—
precise, silent
—gloved hands gleaming wetly in the moonlight, restraining him in a heartbeat.
One cultist drew an
orb
—its surface swirling with
ominous red light
, a vortex of malice trapped in glass. He activated it—air shimmering, reality rippling—and a
deep, guttural voice
growled from within, dripping with authority.
The figures dropped to one knee—robes pooling like spilled ink, heads bowed in unison.
"
Praise to the Devil, our Master
," the lead cultist intoned—voice low, reverent. "We have the target."
"
Good
," the orb rumbled—a pause heavy with menace. "Bring him here. Alive. No matter what."
A beat—silence stretching taut. "
Do not fail me
."
"Yes, Master," the cultist replied—voice flat, obedient. The orb flickered—red fading to a dull pulse, connection snapping shut with a soft
crack
.
Beno clenched his fists—nails digging into palms, drawing faint stings of pain as he pushed against the ground. His body burned—
torn muscles
pulsing, exhaustion chaining him down, vision swimming with
black spots
.
But seeing Charles—dragged like a
broken doll
, wrists bound, body limp—lit a
wildfire
in his chest, fury roaring through his veins.
"Who the
hell
are you?!" His voice scraped—hoarse, raw—tearing from his throat. "How'd you get in?!"
A cultist turned—head tilting, voice slithering with
amusement
, venom lacing every word. "
Beno Mark
. E-rank candidate."
Beno's breath snagged—
shock twisting
his gut.
They know me?!
"
How
do you know me?!" He bared his teeth—rage trembling in his fists. "Who are you?!"
Laughter erupted—
sharp, cruel
, a chorus of glass shards piercing the night. His blood
boiled
, chest heaving as fury clawed free.
Charles lay crumpled—clutching his chest,
blood slicking
his fingers, the arrow pulsing with each ragged heartbeat.
Crimson flecked his lips—coughs wet, gasping—as he forced his eyes to focus, defiance burning through pain. "They're...
cult dogs
!" he shouted—voice breaking, blood spraying. "Worship the Devil!"
The laughter died—
rage darkening
their gazes, a storm brewing. Rio, Joy, Annie shed their hoods—faces twisted with
hatred
, stepping forward like predators.
"What did you just
call us
?" Rio hissed—voice low, lethal.
Joy snarled—teeth bared. "Who's a
dog
, huh?"
Before Charles could answer, Annie struck—her slim frame a blur of fury.
CRACK!
Her boot slammed his stomach—a
wet snap
echoing as ribs splintered.
Blood spewed—
crimson glinting
in moonlight—his body curling as kicks rained down—
thud, thud, thud
—gasps turning to gurgles, hands clawing dirt.
Beno's vision blurred—
rage swallowing
his sight. "
NO
! Leave him alone!" His scream tore free—desperate, primal. "Don't you
dare
hurt him!"
Annie kicked again—Charles shuddering, bones creaking, flesh blackening.
Joy chuckled—
cruel
, watching Beno crawl, hands scraping mud, legs dragging uselessly.
"Look at him!" Joy laughed—sharp, mocking. "Crawling like a
worm
. Pathetic."
Charles turned—bloodied face toward Beno, eyes half-lidded,
pain and regret
shimmering. "I'm...
sorry
, Beno," he rasped—weak, fading. "I lost control... wounded you..."
Beno trembled—fists clenching,
nails piercing
flesh, blood dripping into dirt.
The air choked—
helplessness and fury
a storm ready to break.
"Well, mission's done," Joy said—gesturing lazily at Beno. "What about this one?"
Charles's voice—faint, pleading—cut through. "No... don't... hurt him..."
Rio grinned—
cold
, predatory. "Objective was
you
. We're done."
He slung Charles over his shoulder—limp, bleeding—a steady drip staining the ground as he turned.
Beno pushed to stand—knees buckling, vision blurring,
tears stinging
.
Useless. Helpless.
His chest tightened—failure a blade twisting deep.
A soft voice whispered—
telepathic
, haunting: "Please... take care of my brother..." Clara's words sank into him,
pain slicing
sharper than any wound.
"I can't... I
can't
save him..." His whisper broke—lost to the wind.
The world blurred—
pain
, betrayal, hatred boiling over like a volcano.
His nails clawed furrows in the dirt—breath snarling,
veins burning
with unrelenting fury. His vision darkened—rage clawing at his sanity, a beast breaking free.
His head snapped up—teeth bared, a
feral growl
rumbling deep.
BOOM!
Energy detonated—a
shockwave
tearing through the forest. Lightning didn't crackle—it
roared
, blue arcs ripping the air with a
deafening explosion
, shattering rocks, distorting reality.
His eyes glowed—
electric blue
, sparks dancing in pupils, twin storms illuminating his blood-streaked face.
"
I WILL MAKE YOU PAY
!" His scream shook the night—raw, unhinged.
Annie stepped back—whistling, grinning. "Well,
well
... full of surprises."
Joy clicked his tongue—unimpressed. "Bring out the
throne
."
A
guttural chorus
echoed—malice spilling from the trees. Goblins swarmed—dozens, twisted bodies scuttling,
greenish-gray skin
glistening, jagged teeth bared, saliva dripping.
They dragged a
makeshift throne
—bones, rotting wood, scraps of metal, stained with old blood, a tattered
red cloth
fluttering atop it, a grotesque mockery.
They chanted—
howling
, kneeling before Rio like a god. Joy clapped—laughing. "Your Majesty, your throne's ready!"
Rio smirked—brushing his cloak, sitting casually, leg crossed, chin on knuckles. His eyes glowed—
arrogance
, cruelty. "
Ahhh
... now this is more like it."
Goblins cheered—weapons clanging in chaotic revelry.
Beno's breath heaved—eyes locked, lightning crackling around fists.
He
snapped
.
A
burst of speed
—a storm of death tearing through goblins, lightning trailing in
sizzling arcs
. Skulls shattered—
wet cracks
, torsos split, guts spilling—screams cut short as blood sprayed, painting the ground
red
.
Rio settled deeper—bones creaking under him, smirking with
sadistic delight
. "Joy, bring me a toy to entertain me."
Joy grinned—wide, wicked. "As you command, my king."
Annie cackled—sharp, gleeful, reveling in the mockery.
Joy lifted a hand to the dark forest. "Come forth,
Goblin King
."
The air thickened—
suffocating
, footsteps shaking the earth with
deep thuds
.
A
ten-foot shadow
emerged—muscular, scarred,
bloodshot eyes
glowing feral, jagged teeth dripping venom.
Beno felt it—
terror
, a primal scream to run pulsing through him.
But he couldn't—Charles's blood dripped, a lifeline he wouldn't abandon.
The Goblin King
roared
—trees trembling, swinging a massive trunk like a club.
BOOM!
Beno darted—
Lightning Step
crackling, the trunk smashing down with a
crunch
, dirt exploding. The King moved—
faster
, a blur of rage.
Beno struck—lightning surging, targeting throat, chest, eyes—
thunder cracking
, flesh sizzling.
Useless.
Silence fell—
burnt flesh
and blood choking the air. The Goblin King regenerated—wounds sealing with a
sickening squish
, unharmed, unyielding.
Annie yawned—golden eyes glowing amusement, watching Beno dodge—lightning flickering, narrowly evading massive fists.
"
Boring
," she drawled—mocking. "He only knows how to run."
She flicked her fingers—casual, dismissive.
CRASH!
Beno slammed down—an
unseen force
crushing him. Ribs snapped—
sharp pops
, lungs caving, air forced out in a
wheeze
. Bones creaked—grinding under pressure, dirt fracturing beneath him.
Agony
hit— instantaneous, blinding. His ears rang—his body locked, fingers twitching uselessly. He couldn't breathe—
blood bubbling
at his mouth, chest burning.
Annie smirked—voice cutting. "Poor Beno. That's just
1/3 of Mercury's gravity
. Can't move? How
sad
."
Her laughter pierced—
cruel
, sharp.
The Goblin King roared—eyes glinting triumph.
BOOM!
A
colossal fist
descended—judgment slamming down.
CRACK!
Pain—
unimaginable
. His skull fractured—a
crunch
as bone caved, a gash splitting his forehead. His head snapped back—
thudding
into dirt, spine reverberating.
Blood gushed
—crimson flooding his face, pooling in eyes and mouth, copper choking him. His ears screamed—nerves misfiring, limbs spasming, clawing dirt. Pain radiated—
molten lava
in his bones, thoughts scattering, mind fading.
Rio's laughter—
cold
, triumphant—echoed as darkness swallowed him.
Beno didn't scream.
[To Be Continued...]