They continued their travel in fear, but maintained full guard.
The wagon wheels creaked against the dirt road. Nobody spoke. Eric's hand never strayed far from his sword hilt, and Kairo kept scanning the treeline, searching for any flicker of movement.
For hours, the sensation of being watched pressed against Kairo's skin.
But as the sun climbed higher, burning through the canopy overhead, that sensation slowly began to fade.
When they finally stopped to rest, Eric exhaled a long breath and wiped sweat from his brow. "Whatever it was, it's gone. For now."
Kaya shifted uncomfortably on the wagon seat, glancing back the way they'd come. "Are you sure?"
"No," Eric admitted. "But I don't feel it anymore."
Hours passed before they dared to relax. When the forest finally thinned into open plains, rolling hills stretching toward the horizon, they stopped to rest properly.
That night, they made camp in a small clearing, their fire burning low. Kairo and Eric took turns keeping watch, their eyes fixed on the shadows between the trees.
Nothing came. Just the wind rustling through grass. Just silence.
At dawn, they set out again.
...
By midday, they reached another stretch of dense woods. The road narrowed again, branches clawing overhead. Shadows pooled thick between the trunks.
That was when it happened.
From the treeline, six men stepped out, three in front, three behind. Their clothes were ragged, patched and stained. Faces hidden beneath scarves. Weapons gleaming crudely in their hands: rusted swords, chipped axes, a mace wrapped in leather.
"Bandits," Eric muttered, dropping down from the wagon.
Kairo followed, drawing his short sword. Fenric and Kaya remained inside the wagon.
"Three at the back, three ahead," Eric called, rolling his shoulders. "I'll take the rear."
"Got it," Kairo said, stepping forward.
Eric cracked his neck and turned toward the men behind the wagon.
One of them shouted, voice rough with bravado, "Drop the goods and leave your coin!"
Eric's grin was cold, all teeth and no warmth. "Come and take it."
The first attacker lunged with a roar, sword raised high. Eric sidestepped, smooth as water, and brought his blade down clean and fast. Blood sprayed in an arc across the dirt road. The man collapsed before his momentum carried him past Eric's shoulder.
The second rushed him immediately, trying to capitalize on the opening. Eric parried the wild strike, twisted his wrist, and slit the man's throat in a single fluid motion. The bandit's eyes widened, hand flying to his neck as he crumpled.
The last hesitated, backing away, sword trembling in his grip. "Wait—wait, I—"
Eric was already moving. His sword flashed again in the dappled sunlight, and the man fell without finishing his plea.
By the time their bodies hit the ground, Eric hadn't even broken a sweat. He flicked blood from his blade.
At the front, Kairo stood still, hand tightening around his weapon.
The bandits sneered at him. One spat to the side. "Another kid. Easy kill."
The tallest one laughed, hefting his axe. "Bet he pisses himself before we even swing."
Kairo whispered, "[Sonic]."
He vanished.
In the blink of an eye, he reappeared beside the first man, blade already in motion. Steel carved through leather and flesh, opening the bandit's midsection. The man gasped, staggering backward as his insides spilled.
The second barely had time to turn before his neck opened under Kairo's blade. He dropped without a sound.
The last man froze, shaking, axe slipping from nerveless fingers.
Kairo raised his palm toward him. "[Gravitas]."
The man's knees buckled as invisible weight crushed him to the ground. He gasped, face pressed into the dirt, fingers clawing uselessly at the earth. "Please—please, I—"
Eric walked up from behind the wagon, wiping his blade on a dead man's cloak. He glanced at the pinned bandit, then at Kairo. "Nice skill."
Kairo stopped using [Gravitas]. The pressure lifted.
The bandit sucked in a desperate breath, scrambling backward on his hands and knees.
Eric pointed his blade at the man's throat. "Who sent you? Who's behind the attacks? The masked man, who is he?"
The bandit's eyes darted wildly between Eric and Kairo. "W-what are you talking about? We—we just rob small caravans! Please! We don't know anyone!"
Eric pressed the sword to his neck, dimpling the skin. A thin line of red appeared. "You're lying."
"I swear I'm not! Please—just let me go! I got kids, I—"
"Bandits always have kids when they're about to die," Eric muttered.
Kairo's voice was quiet. "He's not saying anything useful."
Eric sighed, lowering his blade slightly. "So what now?"
Kairo didn't hesitate. "Kill him."
Eric frowned, studying Kairo's face. "Cold, aren't you?"
"If he's telling the truth, fine. If he's not… he'll be trouble later." Kairo's expression didn't change. "Either way, he attacked us."
Eric opened his mouth as if to argue, then closed it. He stepped back, gesturing with his sword. "Your call."
Without another word, Kairo drove his blade down through the bandit's chest. The man jerked once, then went still.
[Reward – Merciless (300 XP, +5 Free Attribute Points)]
Kairo's system flickered in his vision, the text hovering translucent against the blood-soaked road.
Is the system giving this reward every time?
He wiped the blood from his blade on the dead man's shirt and sheathed it.
When they returned to the wagon, Fenric stared at them, pale but silent. His throat worked as he swallowed. The smell of blood still clung to the road, metallic and thick, as they continued their journey.
Kairo opened his status screen while the wagon rolled forward. Ten free attribute points waited, glowing faintly.
He distributed them carefully: Strength increased from 32 to 35. Vitality to 24. Magic to 14.
The changes settled into his body.
After several days of travel without further incident, the forest cleared, revealing Ashvale Village at the edge of a river valley.
Ashvale was quiet and warm, the kind of place untouched by the chaos of the outside world. Children played near the well, laughing and chasing each other. Merchants greeted each other by name, waving from storefronts. Sunlight glowed golden on the cobblestone paths, and the smell of fresh bread drifted from a nearby bakery.
Eric smiled faintly, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Feels good to see peace again."
The wagon slowed as they entered the village proper. People glanced at them curiously but without fear, just the mild interest of locals seeing travelers pass through.
Eric turned in his seat. "We'll drop off Fenric's goods at the warehouse. You two find us an inn."
Kairo nodded. "Alright."
He and Kaya stepped down from the wagon as Fenric and Eric rode ahead toward the merchant district.
They walked in awkward silence, the sound of the river filling the space between them.
After a moment, Kaya whispered, "Kairo."
His heart jumped. For a second, he wasn't in Ashvale anymore. He was back in that ruined forest, hearing Mira's voice calling his name one last time before—
"Kairo?" Kaya called again, softly.
He blinked, realizing he'd stopped walking entirely.
She pointed at a signboard nearby, painted wood swinging gently in the breeze. "That's the inn."
"Oh. Sorry," he muttered, forcing his feet to move.
They entered together.
Kairo booked three rooms.
Inside his room, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.
Why does it hurt when she says my name…
...
Later, Eric returned, his usual energy restored. He knocked loudly on Kairo's door. "Dinner time! Come on, I'm starving."
They went to a small tavern nearby, timber-framed and bustling with locals. Laughter and conversation filled the air, along with the clink of mugs and the crackle of a hearth fire.
Eric quickly found a mug of ale, laughing with the locals about something Kairo didn't catch.
Kaya and Kairo sat at a corner table, quietly eating their meal.
Kaya glanced at him occasionally, then quickly looked away whenever he noticed.
Kairo tried not to stare back. A thought haunted him, If I get close to someone again… what if it ends the same way?
He sighed and lowered his head, pushing food around his plate without much appetite.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement.
Outside the tavern window, someone stood beneath the lamplight. A figure wearing a red hood, but the mask was different, not the demon design from before. This one was plain white, featureless except for two dark eyeholes.
Kairo's chair screeched as he stood, abandoning his meal.
"Kairo?" Kaya called after him.
He rushed to the door, shoving it open.
When he stepped outside, the street was empty. A cat darted between buildings, disappearing into shadow.
He searched both sides of the street, but the figure was gone. Vanished like smoke.
When he returned, Eric's smile had faded completely. He stood near the table, mug forgotten. "What happened?"
Kairo said quietly, "Someone was watching us. A red hood… but not the same mask as before."
Eric's expression hardened, "So they are following us."
He looked toward the door, then back at Kairo. "If that's true, Fenric might be the target."
They rushed back to the merchant's lodging, a modest building near the warehouse district.
But when they arrived, Fenric was sitting calmly at his desk, reviewing documents by candlelight. He looked up, surprised. "Something wrong?"
Eric exchanged a glance with Kairo. "Nothing… just checking in."
That night, they stayed near Fenric's quarters, rotating guard shifts again. Kairo took first watch, sitting on the steps outside with his sword across his knees.
The village slept peacefully around him, but he couldn't shake the feeling of eyes in the darkness.
...
Even after the sun rose, painting Ashvale in warm morning light, the feeling of being watched never left them.
Everywhere they went, taverns, shops, the marketplace, they could sense it. Unseen eyes, lingering in the shadows. A presence that moved when they moved, stopped when they stopped.
But whenever they turned to look, the presence vanished like mist.
When Fenric finally finished his business two days later, he loaded new crates of goods onto the wagon.
As they prepared to leave Ashvale, the air felt heavier than before, like something unseen was waiting beyond the horizon.
The horses stirred restlessly, tossing their heads and stamping.
Eric climbed onto the wagon and muttered, "Let's move."
Kairo sat beside him, hand resting on his sword hilt, eyes fixed on the road ahead.
He didn't know who the masked men were, or why they followed them.
But deep down, he could feel it settling in his bones.
This wasn't over.