Rynne’s voice sliced through the gloom.
"Altent. Your blade. Now."
Altent didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, thrusting his greatsword toward the sky. A blinding, golden radiance erupted from the steel, drowning the dark cliffside in the brilliance of artificial daylight.
It let out an unnatural screech, a sound that didn’t seem capable of coming from anything alive. White, holy flames spread across its misty frame, crawling beneath its shadowy skin and driving it backward step by step. The stray chunks of writhing tissue that hadn’t recombined in time smoked violently, incinerated into blackened crust upon the dirt.
The white fire flared one final time, then died out as the beast retreated beyond the sword’s light. The monster lingered at the edge of the glow, its head tilted as if staring through the radiance. Then, with a harsh, steaming hiss, it retreated into the deep treeline until the shadows swallowed it whole.
A heavy silence returned to the cliffside.
Ash exhaled a slow, thin breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The creature unsettled him, yes, but what disturbed him more was realizing that he had actually cared whether it killed him.
Normally, death felt like an overdue escape, something he wouldn’t flinch from. Tonight, he had flinched.
Perhaps it was the faint memory of his brothers still lingering in his chest. Perhaps it was because dying in a world that wasn’t his felt like the ultimate defeat. Or perhaps it was because these strangers kept mistaking him for a boy named Tachyros, and a stubborn part of him demanded answers before he let go.
Another shrill screech shattered the quiet, this time from behind them.
The fallen nightspawn Altent had brought down earlier was thrashing on the ground, white flames gnawing at its flesh as it lay too close to the sword’s lingering aura.
Earung’s voice cracked with urgency.
"Altent! Quench the light before it incinerates the hide!"
Altent cursed under his breath and extinguished the light. Absolute darkness rushed back in, reclaiming the cliffside. He let out a weary sigh.
"Too close. A few seconds more and the carcass would have been ash. The hearts would have been destroyed."
Rynne clapped her hands together with practical efficiency.
"Good. It’s handled. Now we move. Fire first, butchering second. The night is short, so we work fast and rest. I’ll handle the meat."
Without waiting for a response, she turned toward her pile of fresh game.
Altent rested his massive greatsword against his shoulder.
"I’ll set up the sleeping mats."
Earung’s grin flashed in the dim light.
"Then the hearts are mine."
Unbuckling his enormous pack with a practiced motion, the dwarf pulled a long, serrated skinning blade from the frame and headed toward the twitching nightspawn.
Altent reached down and dragged the same enormous pack toward himself. For a man of his stature, the pack looked comically small, but as his palm touched the worn leather, the pack expanded with a soft rustle, its straps and buckles shifting as the leather stretched outward. Within seconds, it reshaped into a massive, heavily reinforced pack. Digging inside, Altent pulled out thick bundles of folded wool and shook them loose into heavy travel blankets.
Ash sat motionless, the trembling girl still pressed tightly against his side. The strangers moved around him like gears in a well-oiled machine, slipping effortlessly into their roles.
Then Earung shouted from the carcass.
"I found him!"
Everyone turned toward the nightspawn. Altent frowned.
"Found what?"
Earung was perched atop the beast, staring down at something crushed beneath its side.
"The last scout, the one who escaped us! His body is pinned right beneath the beast!"
Rynne scoffed.
"Well, that takes care of that nuisance. Good work, Altent. At least you take responsibility when a target slips away... Unlike someone."
Earung scowled, but Altent stared at the corpse, deep in thought.
"Strange... I don’t recall hitting him over there."
Earung turned to him.
"What are you talking about? It looks like he was killed before the nightspawn crushed him. I mean there’s a dagger in his neck."
Rynne stopped skinning her game, her brow furrowing.
"A dagger? I’ve never seen Altent use a dagger in his life. Are you sure he wasn’t just crushed?"
Earung shook his head firmly.
"I know death when I see it. This was a precise kill... delivered by a person. And if it wasn’t Altent, then the only other person who could have done it was..."
Altent’s gaze snapped directly to Ash.
"Young lord... did you kill that man?"
Ash blinked, caught off guard by the sudden weight in Altent’s voice. Unable to offer an explanation, he gave a slow, quiet nod.
Altent’s eyes widened in genuine shock.
Over on the nightspawn, Earung nearly dropped his blade.
"What?!"
Ash stiffened at the sudden outburst. He had no idea what he had done wrong. Was killing an enemy scout a mistake? He hadn’t even been the one to do it. The original owner of this body must have struck the blow right before Ash’s consciousness was forced into the vessel.
But how was he supposed to explain that?
Rynne shook her head, her tone grim.
"This is bad..."
She turned to Altent.
"How many does he have left?"
Altent let out a slow, heavy breath.
"Just one."
Rynne gritted her teeth, shooting a sharp glare at Earung.
"Look at what you’ve done! If you had finished that scout like you were supposed to, the young lord wouldn’t have had to take a life!"
Earung threw his hands up in defense.
"Are you pinning this on me?! I did my best out there! How was I supposed to haul a heavy pack and outrun a scout in full gear?!"
"Enough!"
Altent commanded, his voice echoing over the clearing.
"Recriminations won’t fix this. The situation isn’t lost yet. The young lord is still safe, provided he does not take another life before the Rite. Our absolute priority is escorting him back to the kingdom intact. Is that understood?"
Both Rynne and Earung nodded begrudgingly, returning to their tasks.
Altent walked over, dropping to one knee before Ash.
"Young lord... I apologize. I failed you. I assume you had no choice. None of us were there to shield you. From this moment on, I will not leave your side."
He bowed his head deeply before rising to resume setting up the camp.
Ash sat in bewildered silence.
’What the hell was that about...? Why is there a limit on how many lives this body can take? What happens if he kills one more time...?’
His thoughts were cut short as Earung let out another frustrated shout from the carcass.
"Huh? Where the hell is it?!"
Altent glanced over his shoulder.
"What is it now, Earung?"
The dwarf didn’t answer immediately; he was straddling the beast’s neck, his arm elbow-deep inside its shattered skull, digging around like a man searching for lost coins in a bloody couch.
"The nightcore..."
Earung grumbled, peeling back bone and tissue with his blade.
"It should be resting right behind the front of the skull. But... it’s not here! Where is it?!"
He wiped a blood-smeared brow, his eyes flicking over to Ash in the firelight.
"You’re sure it’s in the head?"
Ash narrowed his eye in confusion.
Altent exhaled quietly.
"Oh, the core. I crushed it. The young lord suggested it, and he was right, it really was there."
Earung froze. He slowly withdrew his bloodied hand, staring at Altent in utter betrayal.
"You crushed a nightcore?! Do you have any idea what those things fetch on the open market?! People wage wars over them, Altent, and you... you smashed it like a cheap trinket?!"
Altent waved a dismissive hand.
"Pipe down. If I hadn’t shattered the core, we wouldn’t have suppressed its regeneration long enough to harvest the hearts. That’s why most hunting parties get wiped out by these things. So yes, I cracked it. And no, we don’t need the coin. The young lord’s house has more wealth than this entire province."
Earung gritted his teeth, jabbing a crimson-stained finger toward Ash.
"Tachyros! Didn’t you say you wanted to forge an ego-weapon?! A high-grade nightcore is one of the first requirements! A core like this would have gotten you halfway there! Don’t you care?!"
Ash merely stared. The terms meant nothing to him. Ego-weapon. Nightcore. Rite. They sounded like fragments of a world he didn’t belong to, so he remained silent.
Rynne’s dry laugh broke the tension.
"Shut your mouth, you greedy mule. You’re the weakest one in this squad, yet you want to drag the young lord into danger for a fistful of coin?"
She turned her gaze to Ash, the firelight casting long shadows across her strong jawline.
"Young lord... what do you even see in this human? If you need a pack-bearer, plenty of titans would bow for the honor. You don’t need him."
Ash’s eyes widened slightly.
’Human...?’
He glanced at Earung.
’He’s a human? Then what are the rest of them? Wait... What am I?’