Aldric was startled awake by a warm, tingling wave of energy that flowed through his body. It felt like a soft current, washing away pain and exhaustion. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw that his skin was glowing faintly with a dim green light. The warmth soothed his aching muscles and closed the shallow cuts along his arms and chest.
He blinked a few times, trying to adjust his vision. All around him was chaos.
The ground was covered in debris, shattered stones, and broken carriages. Smoke and dust filled the air, mixing with the heavy scent of blood and burnt wood. Not far from him, an arcanist stood with both hands extended, casting the healing technique that had just saved his life.
A few metres away, Aldric saw Adrian resting on his blade, his armour battered and smeared with dirt. The once-proud guards and adventurers that formed the caravan's defense were now scattered corpses. The quiet crackle of dying flames filled the air.
And then Aldric saw them.
Cedric lay motionless near a broken carriage, his black armour torn open across the chest. The sword that had once been his pride lay shattered beside him. His eyes were closed, his face calm, as though he had finally found peace after years of burden.
A few steps away, Clet's blue scale armour was torn apart, his lifeless body half-buried under rubble. Nearby, Lionel's golden robes were soaked in red, his body twisted unnaturally. His expression was frozen mid-grimace, as if his final moments had been filled with pain and fury.
Aldric stood still for a long moment.
They were all gone.
Cedric. Clet. Lionel. Even the guards and scouts that had filled the camp with laughter a day ago. Barely anyone of power remained alive. The few survivors were wounded and disoriented, too weak to fight or even flee.
For Aldric, the scene was horrifying—but it was also an opportunity.
He wasn't in immediate danger. The corrupted creature had been slain, and its vile spawns were either dead or scattered. For the first time since the chaos began, the battlefield was silent.
This was his chance.
He took a deep breath, forcing his trembling legs to move. Every part of his body screamed for rest, but his mind was clear. He knew what he had to do.
Without saying a word, Aldric turned around and began to run.
He didn't look back.
The wind whipped against his face as he sprinted across the rough terrain. Broken trees, cracked boulders, and shallow craters littered the ground, but he moved through them with steady footing. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, but his focus never wavered.
He was getting out of here.
Leaving behind the blood, the corpses, and the cursed region that had brought nothing but misery.
He ran for minutes that felt like hours, each step taking him farther from the battlefield and the memory of those who had fallen.
After what felt like an eternity, he heard faint footsteps behind him. He turned slightly, ready to fight or flee, only to see a familiar figure catching up to him.
Adrian.
The older man's armour was cracked, and his face was streaked with grime, but his eyes were steady. He said nothing as he reached Aldric's side, and Aldric said nothing back.
They just kept running.
The two of them moved in silence for a long while. The only sounds were their synchronized footsteps and the distant howls of beasts echoing across the night.
Aldric's silence was natural. He didn't feel the need to speak when there was nothing worth saying. But Adrian's quietness was different. It felt heavy, like the silence of a man trying to bury his thoughts deep inside so they wouldn't escape. There was a faint tension in his movements—a kind of restraint that came from guilt, grief, or maybe both.
Aldric didn't pry.
They kept running.
Hours passed. The blood fang mountains loomed endlessly before them—sharp ridges and deep shadows stretching under the moonlight. They avoided large clearings, staying close to the cover of trees and rocks. From time to time, they saw flickers of movement in the distance—wild beasts, perhaps remnants of corrupted creatures—but they avoided conflict as best as they could.
Their bodies were exhausted, but survival demanded endurance.
Finally, after several hours of travel, Adrian slowed down. He pointed toward a dark shape near the base of a rocky cliff.
A cave.
It was partially hidden by vines and boulders. Judging by the faint breeze coming from its mouth, it wasn't too deep—but deep enough to offer shelter.
Aldric gave a short nod. "This should do."
They entered cautiously. The air inside was cool and dry, the ground uneven but manageable. After confirming there were no beasts or signs of danger inside, they both sat down near the entrance, using the wall as support.
Aldric leaned his back against the cold stone and let out a tired breath. His body ached everywhere. For the first time since the attack, he allowed himself to rest.
He reached into his dimensional storage and brought out a small pack of dried food and a flask of water. Adrian did the same. They ate in silence, only the faint sound of chewing and dripping water echoing in the cave.
The night outside was quiet, eerily so. The stars shimmered faintly through the opening of the cave, casting a dim light on their faces.
For now, they were safe.
But both of them knew that safety was temporary. The blood fang region was vast, unpredictable, and full of dangers. They had survived this long only by chance.
Aldric took another sip of water, staring at the flickering light outside.
"Two days," he muttered quietly. "If we're careful, we can be out of this place in two days."
Adrian didn't respond. He simply nodded and stared into the darkness, lost in thought.
For a brief moment, the two of them sat in silence—two survivors bound by circumstance, resting in a cave that smelled faintly of stone and damp moss.
Outside, the faint sound of wind echoed through the valley.
For now, they were alive.
That was enough.
—