"Where are you heading off to, Young Master?"
My hand tightened around the lantern.
I had imagined this moment several times while preparing to leave the estate. In some versions, I slipped through the gates without anyone noticing. In others, a random servant discovered me halfway through my escape, and I somehow convinced him that a man carrying enough supplies for a minor expedition was simply taking a perfectly ordinary midnight walk.
Those versions had one important thing in common.
None of them had included Edwin.
I slowly turned around.
He stood a short distance behind me, looking as composed as ever. His gaze moved from the single travel bag hanging over my shoulder to the lantern in my hand before settling briefly on Asura, who sat beside me with the innocent expression of a creature that had absolutely nothing to do with any of this.
The expression was impressive considering that he had been involved in nearly every questionable decision I had made since arriving in this world.
Edwin’s eyes returned to me.
"I was leaving," I said.
"I can see that, Young Master."
There wasn’t much I could say to that.
I adjusted the strap on my shoulder, hoping the movement would make me look less like someone who had been caught attempting to escape his own home. Unfortunately, it merely reminded me that the bag was heavier than I had anticipated.
"I wanted to travel a little before the Academy begins," I explained. "I’ve spent almost my entire life here. I thought it might be useful to see the kingdom for myself."
Edwin remained silent.
His expression wasn’t disapproving, exactly. That would have been easier to deal with. Instead, he watched me with the patient attention of someone waiting for a person to finish making an argument he had already heard a hundred times.
I decided to continue before my courage abandoned me.
"I’ll return before winter. Definitely before the Academy starts. I won’t cause trouble, and I won’t do anything that would create difficulties for House Valerian."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"And when did Young Master make this decision?"
"This morning."
A brief pause followed.
"Then you have prepared rather quickly."
"I prefer to be efficient."
Edwin glanced at my luggage again.
"Clearly."
I had the uncomfortable feeling that he was making fun of me without technically doing anything that could be described as making fun of me.
It was a remarkably irritating talent.
I cleared my throat. "Look, I understand that leaving without informing anyone wasn’t ideal, but I don’t intend to do anything dangerous. I just want to explore a little. I’ll be careful."
"Young Master."
His voice remained polite, but something in it made me straighten.
"You have already decided to leave."
It wasn’t a question.
I looked at him for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh.
"Yes."
Edwin studied me for several seconds. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and that bothered me more than I wanted to admit. I had grown accustomed to his calm manner, but calmness didn’t necessarily mean harmlessness. If anything, Edwin had taught me that the people who made the fewest unnecessary movements could be the ones worth worrying about.
At last, he reached inside his coat and produced a small silver locket.
"Take this."
I accepted it cautiously.
The locket was heavier than it looked. Its polished surface reflected the lantern light, and a delicate chain hung from its sides.
"What is it?"
"A means of contacting me if you require assistance."
I looked up.
Edwin continued in the same matter-of-fact tone. "If you pull the locket away from your neck, I will know that you need help."
I examined it again.
"So I can summon you if something goes wrong?"
"That is the intention."
I stared at him.
"That’s surprisingly convenient."
"It is meant to be, Young Master."
I decided not to ask why a noble family’s steward possessed something like that. Experience had taught me that questions often led to answers, and answers occasionally led to discoveries that made my life considerably worse.
I secured the chain around my neck and tucked the locket beneath my clothes.
Edwin then produced a second object, a small metal badge engraved with the Valerian crest.
"This belongs to you as well. Senior servants and elite knights of House Valerian will recognize it. Should you require assistance while travelling, show it to them."
I accepted the badge and placed it somewhere secure inside my bag.
For someone who had apparently decided to let me leave, Edwin was doing a remarkable amount to improve my chances of surviving the journey.
That was reassuring.
It was also suspiciously responsible.
"Thank you," I said. "I appreciate it."
"Do not thank me yet. I have a few instructions."
There it was.
Nothing in this world came without conditions. Even my attempts to run away from trouble apparently required a brief orientation session.
"First, do not reveal the family’s secrets. Second, do not create unnecessary trouble in the name of exploration. And third, if you encounter something beyond your ability, do not attempt to handle it simply because you refuse to admit that you need assistance."
I tried to look offended.
"I don’t do that."
Edwin looked at me.
I reconsidered.
"I don’t do that intentionally."
His expression remained unchanged.
"Young Master, I suggest you give that some thought."
"Fine. I’ll be careful."
"You had better be."
The enormous iron gates behind me began to close. Their heavy hinges groaned as the gap narrowed, the Valerian crest in the centre slowly disappearing behind the bars.
I looked back at Edwin.
For a moment, I found myself struggling to think of something appropriate to say. I had spent the last several weeks living within these walls, and now that I was actually leaving, even a simple farewell seemed strangely difficult.
"Thank you," I said again, quieter this time.
Edwin gave me a slight nod.
Then he turned and walked back towards the estate.
He didn’t vanish into the darkness or suddenly disappear behind a convenient cloud of mist. He simply walked away, his footsteps fading as he crossed the courtyard and returned through the entrance.
I watched until he was out of sight.
Only then did I release the breath I’d been holding.
"Well," I muttered, turning towards the road, "I’m going to pretend that entire conversation was completely normal."
Asura barked.
I glanced at him. "Exactly."
He barked again, sounding distinctly unimpressed.
"Yes, I know. It was suspiciously easy. But I’m not going to complain about being given emergency assistance by a dangerous man who could probably dismantle me with one hand."
Asura tilted his head.
I gave him a pointed look.
"That was not an invitation to demonstrate."
His tail flicked once.
Wonderful. I had apparently acquired a companion whose idea of reassurance was making me wonder how easily he could kill me.
We started walking.
For the first few minutes, I felt almost pleased with myself. The cool night air was refreshing, the road was quiet, and the estate gates were finally behind us. I had managed to leave without being dragged back inside, and Edwin had even given me something that might save my life later.
Perhaps things were going to be easier than I had expected.
Then the road continued.
And continued.
And continued.
After twenty minutes, my shoulder began to ache beneath the bag’s strap. The lantern swung at my side, casting a shifting circle of light across the road, while Asura trotted ahead as though the entire journey had been arranged for his personal convenience.
I stared at the darkness in front of us.
"How far is this town?"
Asura looked over his shoulder.
I repeated the question.
He responded with a short bark.
"I know the map shows us where it is. The map neglected to mention that the road would apparently continue until the end of civilization."
Another bark.
"No, I am not stopping to rest. I’m expressing a reasonable concern about the distance."
He turned away and continued walking.
I sighed and followed him.
Apparently, my decision to leave the estate had also included an agreement to be abandoned emotionally by the only companion I had.
The road eventually bent towards a thick stretch of forest. I recognized the general area from the map Edwin had given me, though the darkness made it difficult to identify the smaller paths. According to the markings, a narrow route cut through the trees and rejoined the main road farther ahead.
It would save us a considerable amount of time.
I looked down the long road, then at the forest.
The choice seemed obvious.
Which, given my recent experiences, was probably a terrible sign.
I adjusted my bag and started towards the smaller route. Asura followed, although he gave the surrounding trees a suspicious glance before stepping beneath their branches.
"What?" I whispered.
He barked softly.
"It’s a forest. Trees are supposed to look like this."
He looked at me again.
"Would you prefer another road that takes an hour longer?"
He turned away.
I chose to interpret that as agreement.
We had barely approached the beginning of the trail when I noticed movement ahead.
I stopped.
Several men stood beside the road, their armour marked with the Valerian crest. One watched the path leading towards the trees, while another stood farther ahead near a point where the road divided. Two more were positioned near the undergrowth, their lanterns illuminating the ground around them.
They weren’t behaving like men enjoying a quiet break during their patrol.
They were watching the approaches carefully.
My excitement about the shortcut disappeared.
I crouched behind a tree and peered around its trunk. The guards were armed, alert, and positioned in such a way that walking past them with a travel bag would be less an act of stealth and more a public announcement that I had something to hide.
I withdrew behind the tree.
"Why are there so many guards here?" I whispered.
Asura looked towards them.
I considered turning around.
That would be the sensible option. We could return to the main road, continue towards the town, and arrive considerably later than planned. The worst thing that would happen would be that my shoulder became sore and I would spend the rest of the journey regretting my decision to pack so many unnecessary supplies.
It was a perfectly acceptable outcome.
Unfortunately, I had already made it this far, and the idea of turning around after escaping the estate was deeply irritating.
I looked at the guards again.
Then I looked at Asura.
An idea began forming in my mind.
It wasn’t brilliant. It wasn’t particularly original. It was barely a plan at all.
But it had one significant advantage.
It might work.
"Asura," I whispered.
He looked at me.
"You’re going to walk out where they can see you."
His ears immediately flattened.
"I know."
He barked.
"I need you to let them notice you. Just act like an ordinary stray dog, and they’ll probably spend a few seconds trying to catch you while I slip through the trees."
Asura stared at me.
Then he barked again, more sharply.
"Don’t be dramatic. You’re a dog."
His expression changed.
Even without understanding the ancient language he was using, I could identify the precise moment I had deeply offended him.
"You’re a dog at the moment," I amended. "A very intimidating dog. The most terrifying dog in the world. But right now, I need you to behave like one."
He growled.
"Please."
Another growl.
"I’ll make it up to you."
He narrowed his eyes.
I hesitated, searching for something that might appeal to his rather particular sensibilities.
Then I remembered the chocolate roll I had seen in a bakery window a few days earlier.
"I’ll buy you a chocolate roll in town."
Asura stared at me.
I stared back.
After several seconds, I realized the problem.
"Right. You don’t know what that is."
He tilted his head.
"It’s sweet. Soft bread, chocolate, sugar. People eat it for pleasure rather than survival. You’ll understand when you try it."
He continued watching me, apparently considering whether an ancient being should permit himself to be bribed with baked goods.
I held my breath.
Finally, Asura stood.
I smiled in relief.
"Excellent. See? We can reach a reasonable arrangement without—"
He barked directly in my face.
I winced.
"Yes, yes. Your dignity. I understand."
Asura turned and walked towards the road.
I watched him go, silently praying that whatever happened next would be brief, uncomplicated, and unlikely to result in a bill for damages.
It was an ambitious prayer.
The nearest guard noticed the black dog almost immediately.
"What is that?"
Another man turned towards him.
"A dog, I think."
"Where did it come from?"
Asura stopped in the middle of the road and looked at them.
For a moment, he seemed to consider simply walking past them.
Then one of the guards approached.
"Come here, little fellow."
Asura took one deliberate step backwards.
The guard laughed.
"Don’t be frightened. Come here."
Asura’s tail stiffened.
I pressed myself against the tree, trying very hard not to imagine what the dog would do if someone actually managed to grab him.
The commander noticed the commotion and approached, his expression becoming less amused when he saw the animal.
"It’s only a puppy," one of the guards said.
Asura went completely still.
I couldn’t see his face clearly from where I was hiding, but somehow I knew that the word puppy had offended him more deeply than anything I had said.
The commander crouched slightly and held out a hand.
"Come here."
Asura stepped backwards.
Another guard moved around to block his retreat.
The dog turned his head, studying the man with a look of such profound contempt that I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
"Just grab it," the commander said.
The guard lunged.
Asura slipped out of reach, but the man managed to catch one of his hind legs. The dog twisted violently, kicking free and landing a short distance away.
The commander’s expression darkened.
"Annoying little thing."
Asura’s claws dug into the dirt.
For one brief moment, his shadow stretched unnaturally across the road, extending farther than the lantern light should have allowed. The air seemed to grow heavy around him, and the nearest guard hesitated without quite understanding why.
I stopped breathing.
Asura was about to do something.
I could feel it.
Then the commander stepped forward and kicked him aside.
The black dog rolled through the dirt.
The guards laughed.
My stomach tightened.
I wanted to move. Every instinct demanded that I do something, but stepping into the open would ruin the distraction and probably result in my being dragged back to the estate before I had reached the forest.
I hated that I had to leave him there.
I hated even more that I had no idea what would happen if he stopped holding back.
Asura slowly rose.
Dust clung to his fur. His eyes were fixed on the commander, and although his body was small, something about the stillness in his posture was deeply unsettling.
"I am the King of Shadows!" he snarled.
The guards heard barking.
"I ruled the Great Sea!"
"Woof!"
"I have terrified gods!"
"Bark!"
"And I will tear you apart, you miserable—"
The commander pointed towards the trees.
"Get that damned animal out of the road. If it keeps causing trouble, kill it."
My eyes widened.
That was my cue.
I slipped away from the tree, keeping low as I moved towards the narrow track beyond the storage building. The guards were focused on Asura, and for a few precious seconds, none of them seemed interested in examining the surrounding darkness.
I reached the gap between two trees and started through it.
Almost there.
A few more steps, and I would be beyond their immediate line of sight.
Then my boot came down on a dry branch.
Crack.
The sound was painfully loud.
I froze.
One of the guards turned his head.
"Did you hear that?"
Another looked towards the trees.
"There!"
The commander straightened.
"Who is that?"
I had no answer that would improve the situation.
"Stop!" he shouted. "You! Identify yourself!"
I ran.
"Don’t let him through!"
I pushed into the trees, branches striking my face as I tried to keep my footing. The bag bounced against my side, its contents shifting with every stride, while the lantern swung wildly in my hand.
Behind me, boots pounded against the road.
"Stop!"
"Get back here!"
I ran faster.
I had briefly considered explaining myself. Perhaps I could have told them that I was a Valerian, that I possessed a badge proving it, and that I was taking a perfectly legitimate shortcut.
Unfortunately, I doubted they would find the explanation convincing when I had just been hiding beside a tree and had used a dog as a distraction.
Also, I didn’t particularly want to stop running while armed men were chasing me.
I pushed between two thick trunks and stumbled onto a narrow track. It was barely wide enough for me to run along without catching my shoulders on the branches, but it was better than trying to force my way through the undergrowth.
The guards followed.
I could hear them behind me, shouting to one another as they tried to keep up.
The forest grew denser. The path sloped downwards, and roots began crossing the ground in uneven ridges. I nearly tripped twice, each time catching myself at the last moment and continuing before my body could negotiate a formal resignation from the journey.
Then a wooden structure appeared ahead.
A barricade.
It stood across the path, constructed from thick, weathered beams. The wood was dark with age, and several warning signs had been nailed to it. I couldn’t read them clearly in the lantern light, but the barrier itself made the situation obvious enough.
The path was blocked.
Naturally.
Because the universe had apparently decided that a simple escape would be far too convenient.
I slowed, looking desperately for a way around it. The trees grew close on either side, their roots tangled across the ground. I didn’t have time to turn back, and the guards were still somewhere behind me.
I could hear their voices growing closer.
There was no alternative.
I tightened my grip on the lantern and jumped.
My boot struck the upper beam. For one glorious fraction of a second, I believed I might actually clear the obstacle with some dignity.
Then the bag pulled against my shoulder.
My balance disappeared.
I crashed over the barricade and landed badly on the other side, stumbling forward as the ground rose to meet me. Pain shot through my knee, and the lantern slipped from my hand.
It struck the ground with a dull metallic clang.
The flame went out.
I barely had time to notice.
I pushed myself upright and ran deeper into the trees.
Behind me, the shouting suddenly stopped.
I kept moving until the sounds of pursuit had faded, then stumbled to a halt with one hand braced against a trunk. My lungs burned. Sweat clung to my forehead, and my knee throbbed where I had landed.
I listened.
Nothing.
I slowly straightened.
"They’re gone," I whispered.
Relief washed through me so abruptly that I almost laughed. I had escaped the guards, crossed the barricade, and somehow managed to keep most of my belongings.
Then I remembered the lantern.
I reached for it.
My hand closed around empty air.
I looked down at my fingers.
Then at the darkness around me.
Then back at my hand, as though I expected the lantern to appear if I gave it enough time to reconsider its decision.
"Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me."
I turned towards the barricade, but the trees behind me had already swallowed the faint light from the other side. I could barely distinguish the wooden beams, let alone see the ground between them.
The lantern was somewhere behind me.
Retrieving it would mean returning towards the guards.
I decided that darkness was a perfectly acceptable alternative to being arrested, interrogated, or dragged home by an extremely disappointed steward.
Besides, I had Asura.
Asura could see in the dark.
Probably.
I turned in a slow circle.
"Asura?"
No answer.
I waited.
"Asura!"
Silence.
My expression tightened.
The guards had been distracted by him. Perhaps he had escaped in a different direction. Perhaps he had followed me into the forest and was simply waiting for an opportunity to make a dramatic entrance.
Or perhaps he had finally decided that travelling with me was an insult to his ancient dignity and had abandoned me to fend for myself.
That last possibility seemed unnecessarily cruel.
It also seemed entirely plausible.
"Wonderful," I muttered. "I’ve been abandoned by a dog."
I took a cautious step forward, immediately caught my boot on a root, and nearly fell again.
I stopped.
"An ancient god," I corrected. "I’ve been abandoned by an ancient god trapped in a dog."
That sounded marginally more dignified.
Not much, but marginally.
The forest was darker than I had expected. The canopy overhead blocked most of the moonlight, and the trees stood so close together that I could barely distinguish one trunk from another. Without the lantern, the world had become an indistinct mass of shadows.
I strained to see the path beneath my feet.
There wasn’t one.
At least, not one I could identify.
I turned around, attempting to retrace my route, but the landscape looked unfamiliar from every direction. The barricade had disappeared behind the trees, and I couldn’t remember which way I had turned after landing.
I had managed to enter a forbidden forest, lose my only light source, injure my knee, and become separated from the one companion capable of seeing in the dark.
All in a single evening.
I was beginning to suspect that my talent for survival had been significantly exaggerated.
I moved forward cautiously, feeling for roots and stones before putting my weight down. Every few steps, I paused to listen for Asura. The forest answered with the faint rustling of leaves and the distant sounds of unseen creatures.
Then something cried out.
I froze.
The sound came from somewhere deep among the trees. It resembled an animal, but there was something wrong with it—something that made the hair on the back of my neck rise.
After a moment, another cry answered from farther away.
I stared into the darkness.
"All right," I whispered. "That’s enough wildlife for one night."
Nothing responded.
I took another step.
A footstep sounded behind me.
I stopped so abruptly that the bag shifted against my back.
Slowly, I turned.
There was nothing there.
Only trees, darkness, and the vague outlines of branches hanging over the path.
I waited.
Perhaps a branch had fallen. Perhaps some small animal had moved through the undergrowth. There were dozens of perfectly reasonable explanations for a sound in a forest.
I selected the most comforting one and tried to believe it.
Then another footstep sounded.
Closer.
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Asura?"
Silence.
I swallowed.
"All right, very funny. You can stop now."
The darkness remained still.
I turned back towards the path and began walking again, this time more quickly. My knee protested with every step, but I ignored it. I needed to find an open area, a path, a shelter—anything that would make it possible to determine where I was.
The footsteps followed.
I stopped.
They stopped.
I took a step.
Something moved behind me.
I turned so quickly that pain shot through my knee.
Nothing.
My mouth had gone dry.
This was ridiculous. I had survived noble politics, possessed ancient relics, and somehow become acquainted with a being who claimed to have terrified gods. Surely I could handle a few unfamiliar sounds in a forest.
That was a comforting thought.
It was also an excellent way to die.
"Asura," I called again, trying to keep my voice steady. "I am no longer amused."
No answer.
I waited, listening to the silence.
Then I heard a low rustling from the trees to my left.
I turned towards it.
The darkness between the trunks appeared to shift.
I couldn’t see anything clearly enough to identify it, but something was moving out there. Whatever it was, it wasn’t making the careless noise of a small animal wandering through the undergrowth.
It was approaching deliberately.
I backed away.
"Stay where you are," I called, immediately regretting the stupidity of giving an unknown creature instructions.
The movement stopped.
For a moment, I wondered whether it had actually understood me.
Then something took another step.
I retreated until my back nearly touched a tree.
My mind scrambled through possible explanations. It could have been a guard who had followed me after all. It could have been Asura, finally deciding that frightening me was an acceptable form of revenge. It could have been an ordinary animal that would lose interest if I didn’t move.
Or it could have been something that had made the Ghost Forest dangerous enough for an entire region to be blacklisted.
I found myself hoping very strongly for the ordinary animal.
"I really don’t want to die yet," I whispered.
My voice sounded embarrassingly small in the darkness.
"I haven’t even had a chance to enjoy this life properly."
The footsteps stopped.
I swallowed.
"I’ve barely done anything."
Silence.
"I haven’t even been on a date."
The words hung in the air.
For a moment, I could only stare into the darkness, wondering whether that was genuinely the final complaint I wanted the universe to remember about me.
"That’s pathetic," I muttered.
Something moved behind me.
I didn’t notice.
I had already begun arguing with myself about the unfairness of dying unmarried in a world where I hadn’t even figured out how the local courtship customs worked.
"I mean, I’ve been given a noble family, an estate, and enough money to buy an unreasonable number of chocolate rolls, and somehow I’m about to get murdered before I’ve even—"
A sudden rush of air struck the back of my neck.
My words died.
I turned.
Too late.
Something burst out of the darkness behind me.
I barely had time to raise my arms before it slammed into me.