Liebe ran.
He didn’t remember when his legs started moving—whether it was after Orvin’s order or after the light inside him disappeared as suddenly as it came.
The screams still echoed in his ears, and the burning village remained in his mind.
He ran without looking back.
The forest welcomed him with cold silence.
Branches tore at his clothes, roots tripped him, but he kept getting up again and again.
Fear pushed him forward faster than any thought.
The first night was the hardest.
He hid beneath a fallen tree, clutching his wooden sword as if it could protect him from what came from the Abyss.
Every sound felt like footsteps.
Every gust of wind—like breathing behind him.
I ran away…
I left them…
Those thoughts wouldn’t leave him.
On the second day, hunger came.
Liebe found some berries and water in a narrow stream.
His hands trembled, but he forced himself to eat.
He remembered Orvin’s words—”Don’t dream—act”—and tried to hold on.
Sometimes, he felt like the light was still inside him.
But no matter how hard he tried—nothing happened.
The third day brought silence.
Too quiet.
No screams.
No signs of pursuit.
Just emptiness.
And then Liebe stopped.
“…I have to go back.”
The words were heavy, but he already knew—he couldn’t move forward otherwise.
The way back felt longer.
Each step grew heavier, as if the earth itself resisted his return.
His heart pounded harder with every step closer.
And then—
The village.
Or rather… what was left of it.
Ash.
Burned houses, shattered beams, ground soaked in darkness.
The smell of smoke still lingered, as if time had stopped there.
Liebe stepped forward.
Then another.
The wooden sword slipped from his hand.
“…No…”
His voice was barely a whisper.
He walked through the ruins, as if hoping it was all a mistake.
That someone would come out to greet him.
That he would hear familiar voices again.
But there was only silence.
Heavy.
Dead.
Liebe stopped in the center of the village.
And for the first time since that night— he didn’t run.
He stood there.
Looking at everything he had lost.
His hands slowly clenched into fists.
The fear was still there.
But now, something else stood beside it—
Resolve.
“…I will become stronger.”
Quietly.
Almost a whisper.
“I will become a warrior of light.”
The wind swept through the ashes, lifting gray dust into the air.