Morning came too quietly.
The sky stretched wide and clear, untouched by clouds. A lazy wind drifted across the fields, carrying with it the scent of damp soil and crushed leaves. Chickens clucked softly near the fence, while the narrow irrigation canal murmured as water flowed steadily through it.
Everything looked normal.
And that was exactly why my chest felt tight.
I stood in the middle of the field, gripping the handle of the hoe. The soil had already been turned in neat, straight lines—too neat, too orderly. It almost felt as if the world itself was trying to prove that nothing could possibly disturb this place.
But ever since the incident at the market, my mind had not known rest.
The pain in my hand and back was gone.
The memory was not.
It lingered somewhere deeper than flesh, like a warning that had not yet finished speaking.
"Morning."
Johan approached with a small sack of seeds slung over his shoulder. His expression was calm—too calm.
"We'll start from the west side today," he said. "The soil's softer there."
I nodded.
We worked in silence. Steel struck earth as the hoe bit into the soil again and again. Our breathing rose and fell steadily, while the leaves rustled faintly beneath the weak morning wind.
Yet my eyes kept drifting toward the forest.
The tree line stood like a wall of shadow at the edge of the field, dense and unmoving.
Too unmoving.
No birds lifted from the branches.
No insects buzzed in the air.
Even the leaves barely stirred.
An unnatural silence hung over the forest.
"Mr. Johan," I called quietly.
"Hm?"
"Nightbound Beasts… they only come out at night, right?"
The hoe in his hand stopped mid-swing.
"Yes."
"Then why do I feel—"
"If that's the case," he cut in calmly, "pray that you're wrong."
His voice was steady.
Too steady.
The wind stopped.
The chickens froze mid-step, lowering their heads as if something unseen had pressed them down.
And then—
a sharp crack echoed from inside the forest.
A branch snapped.
I turned slowly toward the sound.
Something moved between the trees.
At first it was only shadow shifting in the darkness. Then a pair of red eyes ignited within it.
Not glowing softly.
Burning.
Like embers buried inside rotting flesh.
Another pair appeared beneath it.
Then another, higher among the branches.
Shapes began to emerge from the tree line.
Nightbound Beasts.
But seeing them clearly in the daylight was somehow worse than seeing them in the dark.
Their ears twitched constantly, rotating toward the faintest movement.
But their eyes—
their eyes never blinked.
They locked onto us with a focus that felt disturbingly intelligent.
Hunting.
One of them inhaled sharply. Its chest expanded too far, stretching outward as though something inside it was pressing against its skin.
A low growl vibrated from its throat, not loud and not openly aggressive—just a deep, resonating sound that did not belong to any natural creature.
More stepped out from the forest.
Five.
No—
seven.
Their shadows stretched across the field in twisted shapes as their tails dragged unnaturally still behind them.
Daylight did not weaken them.
It only revealed them.
Johan dropped the hoe and grabbed his spear in one smooth motion.
"Inside," he said sharply. "Now."
My legs felt heavier than they ever had before.
This was not the fear from the first night.
This was worse.
Because this time—
they were not supposed to be here.
And if they were out in the open like this…
then something had changed.
And whatever had changed—
was watching us right now.
—
I found Rosa inside the house.
She stood near the wooden table, clutching the hem of her dress tightly in both hands. Her small body was stiff, as though she had been standing there for a long time. When I entered, her eyes immediately locked onto mine—the look of someone waiting for an answer she did not know how to ask.
"Brother Vein…?" she whispered. "What's happening?"
I took a slow breath.
"We need to go to the market," I said. "Now."
I did not tell her about the Nightbound Beasts.
I did not tell her the field was under attack.
And I did not tell her that I could not fight them.
Yesterday, I survived because Sylva was there.
Today, I was alone.
And the truth was simple.
If I stayed and tried to fight, I would die.
And if I died—
Rosa would die too.
"We'll use the back door," I added quickly. "Not the front."
Rosa nodded and pointed toward the narrow hallway beside the kitchen.
"There's a door there," she said quietly. "Father uses it sometimes."
We moved carefully through the house. I opened the back door as slowly as I could.
The morning air brushed against my face.
Cold.
Too still.
The entire world felt like it was holding its breath.
We had barely taken a few steps outside when a roar shattered the silence.
"GRAAAUHH—!"
The ground trembled beneath our feet.
Rosa froze instantly.
"B-Brother Vein…" her voice shook. "What was that…?"
I already knew.
And that made it worse.
"Where's Father?" she asked again, her voice softer now. "He's okay, right?"
My throat tightened.
I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.
The words echoed in my skull.
In my mind I saw Johan standing alone in that field with a spear in his hand.
Seven of them.
Maybe more.
What could one man possibly do?
I wanted to tell her the truth.
I wanted to admit that I wasn't sure.
But when I saw the look in her eyes, I knew that if I hesitated even for a moment, she would stop moving.
And hesitation right now meant death.
"Mr. Johan is fine," I said.
The lie left my mouth too easily.
It frightened me how easily it came.
Rosa grabbed the front of my shirt with both hands.
"I want to see Father," she whispered. "I don't want to lose him… like I lost Mother…"
My chest tightened painfully.
This isn't about you.
Not your fear.
Not your weakness.
I knelt down until we were at eye level.
"Listen to me, Rosa," I said as steadily as I could. "You trust me, right?"
Her eyes were wet.
"Yes."
"Brother Vein never lies."
Those words struck harder than any monster's roar.
Never lies.
If she knew.
If she knew how many lies I carried from my previous life—how many times I told myself I was fine, how many times I pretended I wasn't afraid.
I turned my face away for a moment, swallowing the bitterness rising in my throat before standing again.
If this lie keeps her moving…
then I'll carry it.
"We're going to the market first," I said. "Mr. Johan will follow us there."
She nodded, though the doubt in her eyes had not completely disappeared.
We began to run.
When we reached the fork in the road that led toward the market, I stopped.
"Rosa."
She turned back toward me.
"When you get there, find the stall your father always visits."
She nodded again.
"Tell them…" I began.
My voice almost faltered.
"Tell them Vein was too stupid for this. He's waiting for them at the farm."
Too stupid.
If someone has to stay behind—
let it be me.
Let them think I made a mistake.
Let them come for me instead.
Rosa smiled weakly, trying to look brave.
"Okay."
Then she ran toward the market.
I stood there, watching her small figure disappear into the distant crowd.
Another roar echoed from the direction of the fields.
Closer this time.
My legs felt heavy.
I wasn't strong.
I wasn't a hero.
I wasn't even certain I could survive this.
But if she lives—
that would be enough.
For once, I prayed that a lie could save a life.
—
I wanted to return to the farm.
My body had already turned in that direction, but my feet refused to move.
Deep down, I knew the truth. If I went back now, I would not be a savior.
I would only be a burden.
And worst of all… I could die.
I didn't want to die again.
I had already felt it once.
The memory of it still lingered somewhere deep inside me—the cold that seemed to pierce straight into bone, the breath that stopped halfway through a desperate gasp, and the slow fading of consciousness as everything sank into a silent, endless darkness.
It had hurt.
More than I could ever explain.
And I didn't want to experience that again.
Yet my mind refused to stay quiet.
Johan's face appeared in my thoughts.
Then Rosa.
Sylva.
Elna.
All the people who had somehow become part of my life in this strange world.
My trembling hand slowly clenched into a fist.
If I run now…
then what does any of that mean?
I took a deep breath. The air felt heavy in my chest, thick and difficult to swallow.
Then I stepped forward.
One step.
Then another.
Each movement felt as though the earth itself were trying to drag me backward. The closer I walked toward the farm, the clearer the sounds became.
Louder.
Closer.
The ground trembled faintly beneath my feet, and the wind carried with it the metallic scent of blood mixed with wet soil.
Fear tightened around my chest like a cold hand.
But I kept walking.
Until I reached the edge of the field.
And froze.
Johan stood alone in the middle of the farm.
His spear swung again and again, blocking attack after attack as the creatures lunged toward him. His body was already covered in wounds, blood darkening his clothes, and his breathing had grown heavy and uneven.
Yet he was still standing.
Still fighting.
Around him were the Nightbound Beasts.
Many of them.
Too many.
My entire body stiffened.
I wanted to shout his name.
I wanted to run toward him.
But my legs refused to obey.
I could only stand there.
Useless.
And then the voice returned.
You're worthless.
You don't deserve to live.
Coward.
The words struck my mind one after another, sharper than any claw.
My head lowered slowly.
What am I supposed to do now?
Before I could think further, something suddenly touched my shoulder.
I flinched and turned around.
Sylva stood behind me.
Her expression was calm, almost indifferent, as if the chaos unfolding before us were nothing more than a passing disturbance in the wind.
"Stay here," she said quietly.
"Leave this to me and Mr. Johan."
I wanted to protest.
I wanted to say that I would help too.
But the words never came.
Sylva stepped past me without waiting for a response.
Her staff shimmered faintly as light flowed across its surface. The air around her feet began to twist and gather, forming a spiral of wind that grew stronger and faster with every second.
Then—
WOOSH!
Her body shot upward into the air with impossible speed.
She soared across the field.
Toward Johan.
Toward the Nightbound Beasts.
And I remained where I stood.
Frozen at the edge of the farm.
One question echoed endlessly in my chest.
If I cannot move today…
what will I become tomorrow?
—
I could only watch.
Ahead of me, Sylva's magic flashed across the field. Wind twisted through the air and sharpened into invisible blades, slicing mercilessly through the Nightbound Beasts. On the other side, Johan moved with the calm composure of someone who had stood at the edge of death far too many times. Each thrust of his spear was precise and controlled. There was no hesitation, no wasted motion.
They were strong.
Too strong.
And I…
I could only stand here.
Slowly, I lowered my head.
I always arrive too late.
Or not at all.
I always hide behind others, always waiting for someone else to save the day.
Just as those thoughts began to swallow me, a hand tapped gently on my shoulder.
I turned.
Elna stood beside me, her expression calm as ever. Behind her, Rosa clung tightly to my arm, her small fingers gripping the fabric of my sleeve.
"Vein," Elna said softly. "I know how you feel."
She looked toward the battlefield.
"Watching others fight for you while you can only stand here from afar… it's frustrating, isn't it?"
I didn't answer.
Elna continued anyway.
"I've been in that position before," she said quietly. "But if you think that makes us useless… then you're terribly mistaken."
She let out a slow breath.
"Those who always protect others may be strong physically," she continued, "but that doesn't mean they're strong mentally."
Her eyes shifted toward me.
"And that's where we come in."
She smiled faintly.
"We cheer them on. We wait for them to return. And when they finally do… we tell them they've done enough."
Her hand rested gently on my shoulder.
"That kind of reward is precious," she said softly. "Sometimes even more precious than joining the fight."
A warmth slowly filled my chest.
My eyes burned, and I had to hold back the tears threatening to rise.
She was right.
Before I could say anything, Rosa stepped forward slightly.
"Sister Elna," she said earnestly, "if Brother Vein hadn't told me to run to the market earlier… I would still be at the house."
Elna fell silent for a moment before kneeling down so she was at Rosa's level.
"You're right," she said gently. "Vein made a very difficult choice today."
Rosa nodded firmly and looked up at me.
"Brother Vein is amazing," she declared without hesitation. "Brother Vein isn't scared."
My chest tightened.
"I… I am scared," I admitted automatically.
Rosa shook her head quickly.
"Being scared but still moving forward," she said simply, "that's what Father always says."
I froze.
"A brave person," she continued carefully, "isn't someone who isn't afraid. It's someone who keeps walking even when they are."
For a moment, I had no words.
Elna stood up again and gave my shoulder another gentle pat.
"It seems," she said with a small smile, "you're braver than you think."
The fear inside me hadn't disappeared.
But somehow, it didn't feel as heavy anymore.
Because I wasn't carrying it alone.
I lifted my head and looked back toward the field.
Suddenly—
"GO, FATHER!" Rosa shouted at the top of her lungs.
She stepped forward, her fists clenched tightly.
"Sister Sylva!" she yelled. "DRIVE THOSE BAD DOGS AWAY!"
I took a deep breath.
And for the first time since standing here, I shouted too.
"KILL THEM ALL, SYLVA!"
My voice was rough and unrefined, but it carried every bit of conviction I had.
Elna blinked in surprise, then laughed softly. The sound was warm and genuine.
"YES!" she shouted, turning toward the battlefield as well. "KILL THEM ALL, SYLVA!"
From the middle of the farm, Johan briefly glanced toward us. Between the swings of his spear, he let out a short laugh. His breathing was heavy, yet there was relief on his face.
"Well now," he muttered with a grin, "the youngsters these days sure are spirited."
Sylva glanced back as well.
Her gaze swept over us—Rosa with her clenched fists, Elna shouting beside me, and me standing just behind them.
The corner of her lips lifted slightly.
A small smile.
"Understood," she said casually. "Leave it to me."
She raised her staff.
"I'll take care of them all."
Her tone remained calm.
Almost friendly.
But the air around her began to change.
The wind that had been spiraling around her suddenly roared louder. Pressure built in the air, lifting dust and torn leaves from the ground. The light surrounding Sylva thickened, growing brighter and denser, as if responding to something beyond a simple command.
Encouragement.
Trust.
The voices calling out behind her.
The wind exploded outward.
Invisible blades multiplied in an instant, faster and sharper than before, sweeping across the field with overwhelming force. The Nightbound Beasts were struck again and again, lifted from the ground, torn apart, and thrown lifelessly across the soil.
I stared in stunned silence.
Her magic… had grown stronger.
Not because of anger.
Not because of fear.
But because she knew that behind her stood people who believed in her.
Elna and I exchanged a glance.
I smiled.
"Thank you, Elna."
Her face flushed slightly, and she quickly turned away.
"Idiot," she muttered under her breath.
Before I even realized it, the roars had stopped.
The battlefield had fallen silent.
The battle…
was over.