Hours later, the survivors would remember that moment as the instant the hunt changed hands.
The forest remained silent.
The leaves still carried the smell of blood.
Éreon did not move.
The katana rested in his hand, the black blade reflecting the pale light of the moon.
But his senses were awake.
The wind slipping between the trunks.
Light footsteps shifting position in the darkness.
Breath held among the trees.
The almost imperceptible creak of a bowstring being pulled.
Every sound was far too clear.
In front of him, among the shadows of the forest, Number One kept his bow raised.
The arrow remained pointed directly at Éreon's chest.
The two stood motionless.
Like two statues before the silent mountain.
Then Number One spoke.
Low.
Almost a whisper.
"You really are a monster."
There was no anger in his voice.
Only acknowledgment.
The wind passed between the trees.
His light-brown eyes remained fixed on Éreon.
"So many trained orphans… and even after taking so many lives here…"
The bowstring creaked a little more under the pressure of his fingers.
"…your expression doesn't even change."
Silence fell again among the trees.
Éreon adjusted his stance slightly.
The movement was small.
Almost imperceptible.
The katana lowered a few centimeters.
His fingers relaxed around the hilt.
Then he closed his eyes.
The wind swept through the forest.
Held breaths echoed between the trunks.
Light footsteps shifted in the darkness.
Then Éreon's eyes opened slowly.
Number One watched the movement.
The bowstring remained tense.
Then he murmured:
"It seems that…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…the real hunt begins now."
Two shadows dropped from the trees.
The veterans attacked at the same time.
A sword came down in a brutal arc aiming for Éreon's shoulder.
The other blade advanced straight for his flank.
Éreon moved at the last instant.
His body turned to the side.
The first blade passed, cutting only the air.
Éreon's katana was already in motion.
A short strike.
Too fast.
The veteran barely had time to react when the black blade advanced toward his neck.
Then—
Twang.
The bowstring vibrated.
The arrow tore through the forest air.
Éreon interrupted the movement.
The katana turned.
The blade deflected the projectile a few centimeters from his face.
The arrow spun in the air before disappearing among the trees.
The veteran stepped back, breathing with difficulty.
Number One was already nocking another arrow onto the bow.
His eyes remained fixed on Éreon.
Calm.
Calculating.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Éreon stepped back.
The movement was small.
Controlled.
Number One frowned slightly.
Something about that movement did not look like a retreat.
Then he saw it.
In the darkness between the trees…
a shadow moving.
Fast.
Silent.
Approaching his position.
Number One's eyes lifted to the sky.
A cloud was slowly crossing the moon.
The silver light diminished with every second.
The realization came immediately.
"Fall back!" Number One shouted.
But it was already too late.
The cloud completely covered the moon.
The forest plunged into darkness.
For one second, there was silence.
Then a scream tore through the night.
Short.Brutal.
As if it had been torn straight from someone's lungs.
Another came soon after.
Closer.
Metal piercing flesh.
A body hitting the ground.
The screams began to overlap in the darkness.
One after another.
Number One tightened his grip on the bow.
He did not call the numbers.
There was no need.
He already knew.
The hunt had changed.
Now…
it was a massacre.
The cloud slowly passed the moon.
Silver light returned to the mountain slope.
A figure walked toward Number One.
Number Six.
One hand still pressing his wounded shoulder.
His steps were slow.
Unstable.
Number One frowned slightly.
"Six—"
The veteran fell to his knees.
His lips moved with difficulty.
"Ru—"
The body fell forward.
Lifeless.
Behind him…
a silhouette emerged from the darkness.
The black outfit was stained with the blood of the veterans.
The katana rested in Éreon's hand.
Number One looked at the body of his companion on the ground.
Then he raised his eyes to the boy standing before him.
And then he said:
"Darkness truly is your hunting ground."
The breeze passed between the trunks.
Éreon advanced.
Without hesitation.
The bowstring vibrated.
Twang.
The arrow shot forward.
Éreon tilted his body.
The black blade rose in a short arc.
Clack.
The arrow was deflected to the side.
But Number One was already moving.
He stepped sideways among the roots of the slope and pulled another arrow.
The distance between them was shrinking far too quickly.
Twang.
Another shot.
This time aiming at the face.
Éreon dodged by centimeters.
The arrow whistled past his head.
One more step.
Now he was close.
Too close for an archer.
Number One realized it.
Instead of retreating, he advanced as well.
Éreon's katana came down in a diagonal cut.
The archer raised the bow horizontally.
CLANG.
The blade struck the reinforced structure of the bow.
The impact made the bow vibrate.
In the same movement, Number One turned his wrist.
The other hand already held an arrow.
He used it like a dagger.
The metal tip drove straight toward Éreon's abdomen.
Éreon twisted his hips.
The arrow scraped his outfit.
The katana rose again.
A short cut.
Straight for the archer's arm.
Number One stepped back half a step and pushed the blade aside using the bow as a lever.
The two separated for an instant.
Controlled breathing.
Eyes locked.
Then they advanced again.
Éreon attacked first.
Two fast strikes.
High.
Low.
Number One blocked the first with the bow.
Deflected the second with his forearm protected by the leather bracer.
In the same motion he spun his body.
Trying to open distance.
His hand was already reaching for another arrow.
But Éreon was pressing.
The katana advanced again.
Fast.
Precise.
The archer retreated between the trees.
Another arrow nocked.
He pulled the string.
But Éreon was already inside the distance.
The blade came down.
Number One released the string before the shot.
Used the bow to push the sword aside.
The impact echoed through the trees.
He pulled an arrow with his free hand.
The metal tip drove straight toward Éreon's face.
Trying to pierce the eye.
Éreon tilted his head.
The arrow passed grazing his temple.
The katana answered.
A brutal cut.
Number One spun his body to escape.
Even so, the blade tore his armor.
A line of blood appeared across his abdomen.
He stepped back twice.
But did not lower the bow.
His light-brown eyes remained calm.
Calculating.
The two advanced at the same time.
Number One pulled the string to its limit.
The arrow pointed directly at Éreon's face.
The katana advanced in a straight line.
A single strike.
Both movements happened at the same instant.
Then the bell echoed across the mountain.
Dong.
The sound crossed the dark forest.
Then another toll.
Dong.
And it was in that instant that both stopped.
Silence fell between them.
Éreon's katana pressed against Number One's neck.
The tip of the arrow rested a few centimeters from Éreon's right eye.
Neither of them trembled.
Blood ran from the corner of the archer's mouth.
Even so, his voice remained steady.
"Try any movement…"
A small pause.
"…and I'll take your right eye with me."
Éreon did not answer.
His eyes remained fixed on Number One for another instant.
Then he stepped back.
The blade slowly moved away from the archer's neck.
Without saying a single word.
Éreon turned.
His footsteps slowly disappeared among the trees.
Number One remained motionless for a few seconds.
The bow still firm in his hand.
His eyes followed the black silhouette until it dissolved into the darkness of the forest.
Only then did he slowly let out the breath he had been holding.
The archer took two steps back.
He leaned his back against the trunk of a tree.
His head fell back for a moment.
His eyes faced the night sky between the treetops.
The moon had already emerged from behind the cloud.
The pale light illuminated the silent slope.
He let out a small, tired laugh.
"Hey…"
The voice came out low.
Hoarse.
"You died way too fast."
The smile slowly disappeared.
Number One lowered his head.
His gaze fell on the body of Number Six on the ground.
Silence once again dominated the forest.
After a few seconds, he murmured:
"Ah…"
He ran a hand across his blood-stained face.
"How am I supposed to report this…"
The archer remained there for a moment.
Quiet.
As if the battle still echoed in his mind.
—
At the base of the mountain, the shadows of the forest stretched across the stone path.
A few lanterns swayed, tied to stakes driven into the ground, faintly illuminating the trail descending from the slope.
Footsteps emerged from the trees.
Slow.
Firm.
Éreon appeared from the darkness.
The black outfit was stained with blood.
Ahead on the path, a figure was already waiting for him.
Telvaris.
Arms crossed behind his back.
Rigid posture.
His eyes swept over Éreon's blood-stained outfit.
His expression hardened.
A clear look of disapproval.
Before Éreon could continue walking, Telvaris stepped forward and blocked the path.
Éreon stopped.
His eyes slowly rose until they met his.
His gaze remained empty.
Indifferent.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Telvaris broke the silence.
His voice came out dry.
Direct.
"The director wants to see you."
A small pause.
His eyes passed once more over the black outfit stained with blood.
Telvaris frowned slightly.
"After you change."
His gaze returned to Éreon's face.
Cold.
Evaluating.
"Present yourself to him immediately."
Éreon did not answer.
He simply walked past Telvaris.
His steps continued along the path lit by the lanterns.
Unhurried.
Without hesitation.
Telvaris remained still.
Watching the figure disappear into the darkness of the path.
For a moment, his gaze lifted toward the top of the mountain.
The forest was silent again.