The crimson forest whispered with life and quiet terror. Each rustle of its red-tinted leaves carried rumors of watchers, wolves, goblins, and worse. Sunlight dripped through the canopy like blood diluted with gold, and the air hung heavy with iron and smoke from hidden fires. Humanity lived here not as conquerors, not even as settlers, but as fugitives beneath the roots of the world.
Jack's hands were already roughened by the haft of his spear when he stepped out of his treehouse. The morning mist clung to him like cobwebs. He squinted through the fog and surveyed the village below, if it could be called a village at all.
Wooden homes hid in the massive crimson trees, linked by narrow bridges of woven vine. Others were burrowed underground, lit by faint glimmers of crystal and oil lamps. The entire settlement was invisible from above, a secret born of desperation.
Two or three thousand humans lived here, hidden from the eyes of the kingdoms that ruled the land. Children played silently, never laughing too loud. Men carried spears as though they were extensions of their arms. Women walked in pairs, eyes darting toward every shadow. The village was alive, but only barely.
Jack slung his pack over his shoulder and began to descend. Hunting duty was his escape from suffocation. The forest outside was dangerous, yes, but so was staying inside the village too long.
He was halfway across one of the bridges when a scream tore through the stillness.
"Please! I couldn't do it anymore! Please—!"
Jack froze. His eyes darted toward the sound, it came from below, one of the underground burrows near the base of the giant root cluster. The plea was raw, desperate.
Then, heavy footsteps. A group of men emerged from the entrance, dragging a woman by the arms. Her face was swollen from crying. One of the men slapped her hard enough to knock her limp.
A tall, broad-shouldered brute with a jagged scar across his cheek noticed Jack watching. His voice boomed up through the branches.
"Mind your business, peasant."
Jack's grip on his spear tightened. Every muscle in his body begged him to leap down, to do something... but he didn't move. He simply glared.
The tall man's lips curled into a sneer. He started toward the ladder that led up to Jack's perch, hand reaching for the hilt of his dagger.
But then a voice cut through the tension, soft, composed, and somehow colder than steel.
"That's enough."
The tall man froze mid-step. Jack felt the chill run down his spine. He knew that voice. Everyone in the hidden village knew that voice.
From the shadows of the roots, a figure emerged, slender but tall, wearing dark red leathers that clung to him like a second skin. His eyes were a strange pale gray, and they never blinked too often. His presence alone silenced the world.
Sylas.
Vice leader of the Red Band.
Even the trees seemed to hush as he walked. The men dragging the woman immediately released her and stepped back, heads bowed.
Sylas's eyes moved lazily toward Jack, who still stood frozen on the bridge. "Go," he said, his tone soft, almost bored. "Do your job."
Jack's chest heaved once. He wanted to say something, anything but his throat closed up. He turned sharply and started walking away, fists clenched, his spear trembling in his grip. Anger and helplessness churned inside him until he thought it would choke him.
Behind him, Sylas watched. His expression didn't change.
When Jack disappeared into the forest's edge, another man approached from the roots, a bearded giant in a tattered coat, his arms thick as tree trunks. His voice was gravel.
"Any news about Ria and Ethan?"
Sylas sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Nothing, Captain Den. I sent word to the Gnarlak kingdom to have a scout intercept their route. No reply yet."
Den scratched at his beard. "A waste," he muttered. "That's hundreds gone, hundreds we could've sold."
Behind them, another figure approached, a much younger man, perhaps no older than eighteen. His eyes were bright, eager, and empty all at once.
"At least the Gnarlak kingdom still deals with us," the youth said. "If they stopped, we'd all be dead."
Captain Den grinned. "It's efficient. Beneficial, even. They get labor and breeding stock. We get to live free. Humanity survives, doesn't it?"
Sylas gave a low chuckle. "We get to live, we get to profit, and we get to have fun while doing it. Not a bad deal for the end of the world."
The three of them laughed softly, their voices swallowed by the crimson canopy above.
Far away, deeper in the forest, Jack walked until his legs burned. He didn't notice when his steps took him beyond the safe boundary of the hidden village.
When he finally stopped, he slammed his spear into the dirt and punched the trunk of a massive crimson tree. Once. Twice. Again and again until his knuckles split.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath. "Damn all of them."
He sank to his knees, breath ragged. The weight of his helplessness pressed against his chest like a stone.
Then, a scream.
A woman's voice, distant but sharp. Jack's head snapped up. His hunter's instinct took over before his mind could protest. He grabbed his spear and ran toward the sound.
Branches whipped at his face. Leaves cracked underfoot. He moved like a ghost, silent but swift. The scream came again, closer this time.
---
"Rigel! Why did you injure the wolf?!"
The woman's voice rang through the clearing. She stood on a patch of broken crimson grass, her brown hair tied back, her face twisted in frustration.
A few paces away, a tall, armored man stood over a massive silver-furred wolf that lay on its side, bleeding from its shoulder. The wolf was easily twenty feet long from nose to tail, its fur shimmering faintly with aether.
Rigel—lean, confident, and smiling like a man who thought himself clever—rested his blade on his shoulder. "Come on, Siora. It kept on trying to kill us, it's so fucking annoying. I just taught it a lesson."
Siora's glare could've melted steel. "You don't teach by breaking bones!"
Rigel shrugged. "This thing's wild. Lady Lys said to capture it, not pamper it. If it's going to be a pet, it needs discipline."
"That's not training, that's cruelty!" she snapped.
Rigel smirked. "Cruelty works fine on monsters."
Before Siora could retort, a ripple of air cut through the clearing. The trees bent slightly as a figure descended from above, her presence commanding silence.
Lys.
Her hair, pale as moonlight, fluttered around her as she touched the ground. In her arms were two wolf pups, no larger than hounds, each trembling softly.
Rigel and Siora bowed immediately.
"Lady Lys," Rigel said, straightening. "The adult resisted capture. I thought—"
Lys's tone was quiet, but it made Rigel stiffen. She turned her gaze toward the fallen wolf. "An adult wild beast can be thought to behave but cannot be completely loyal. Only when it is young can it be loyal. Like these two."
The massive wolf lifted its head, whimpering when it saw the pups. Its breath came out in weak, ragged bursts. Its yellow eyes flicked from its young to Lys's face.
Then Lys raised a hand.
A soft blue light surrounded her palm, crackling faintly. The wolf's torn flesh began to close. Bones realigned, wounds sealed, and fur regrew. The creature's body trembled once and then stilled.
Lys nodded slightly. "Pain makes creatures remember fear. Fear makes them reckless. This way, it remembers mercy. Good job Rigel."
She turned toward her subordinates. "Keep watch on it. I'll determine if it's worth transporting."
Rigel bowed again. "Yes, Lady Lys."
Far away, hidden behind a tree trunk, Jack watched with wide eyes. He couldn't breathe.
Humans? he thought. No… impossible.
He had never seen humans like these even among the powerful in the red band, they are floating, armored in gold and what seems to be adamantite, radiant with power. For a moment he thought they could be members of the Red Band using strange artifacts or worst they are actually demons in disguise. He tightened his grip on his spear, uncertain whether to run or fight.
Then the world blurred.
Jack's stomach lurched as his feet left the ground, not by choice. He was being pulled. The air howled in his ears as he flew forward, crashing through branches, leaves snapping around him like paper.
Before he could even scream, he found himself standing in front of Lys.
She didn't even look at him right away. Her attention was still on the wolf. When her eyes finally met his, Jack felt something cold and vast pierce through him. She looked through him, not at him.
Siora tilted her head. "Well, looks like we've found the villagers."
Rigel smirked, resting his sword on his shoulder again. "About time to find one of them."
Jack's heart pounded. "Who are you people?" he demanded, his voice shaking. "What do you want from us?"
Rigel stepped closer. "We could ask the same. Where's your village?"
Jack's instincts screamed danger. These people could fly, could pull him from miles away. He had never seen power like that. If they were from the Red Band…
No, he thought, panic crawling up his throat. They're worse.
In the quiet of Lys's mind, a voice echoed, a calm, familiar tone threaded through with concern.
"Lys."
It was Kyle. The link hummed softly in her head.
"Ask him if he's a member of the Red Band."
Lys's lips barely moved. "Are you a member of the Red Band?" she asked.
Jack's face twisted in fury. "No!" His shout echoed through the clearing. "I'd rather die than join those monsters!"
Rigel arched a brow, half-smiling. "Fiery for a stray."
Jack glared back. "And what about you? Are you Red Band? You look like their kind."
Lys's tone stayed flat, her words precise. "No. We are not Red Band."
"Then... what are you?" Jack demanded.
Lys straightened, her cloak catching the wind. "We are here to take the civilians from your village to safety," she said. "To the Citadel of Aethelgard."
Jack blinked, confused. "Aethelgard? What is that?"
Her answer was steady, cold, and full of a quiet authority that made the forest seem to still around her.
"The Citadel ruled by Lord Kyle," she said.
Jack's eyes widened. "You mean… a citadel made by humans?"
"Yes," Lys said simply.
The words struck Jack like thunder in the stillness of the crimson forest.
For the first time in years, he didn't know whether to believe or laugh.
Humans building citadels in this continent... In this world? A sanctuary beyond the reach of the Red Band, of monsters and Gnarlak lords?
It sounded like a child's dream.
And yet, here stood three people who could tear through trees with a thought and heal a beast with a wave of their hands.
Lys turned to Rigel and Siora. "Restrain him gently. He will lead us to the village."
Jack stepped back, his voice shaking. "Wait—you said humans rule that citadel?"
Lys nodded.
Jack stared at her, eyes wide, half in fear and half in fragile, rising hope. "Then… maybe we're not alone anymore."