Niklaus looked at him. It wasn't an angry stare—it was a heavy, icy gaze that froze the blood in Ethan's veins. He shuddered, then sighed:
"Fine. I'll do what you say. Like I always do. Your loyal follower by nature... and also because Maria was like an older sister. I'll take care of Adele out of respect for her."
Niklaus spoke, his words quick and decisive:
"Stay in the cave for a few days. Watch the duchy's situation. The knights will certainly be on high alert for days—watching everyone entering and leaving the duchy."
Ethan slapped his forehead dramatically:
"And you've been asleep for three days! When did you think of all this?! Your mind is terrifying!"
Adele, who had heard Maria's name, filled with silent tears. She grabbed Niklaus's hand tightly, as if afraid he would evaporate. A silent look begging him to stay.
Ethan added, his tone finally serious:
"Why do the attackers want Adele? And why do they want you too? Especially since they called you out by your red eyes."
He knew. Eyes red as blood. Hair jet-black, impossibly dark. Nothing like the Emperor's sapphire-blue eyes, nothing like the imperial family's golden-blond hair. Even Prince Adrian carried the traditional traits. Niklaus was the anomaly. Empress Elisia had died giving birth to him because of his "mysterious power." The servants' whispers reached him: something suspicious about his birth.
Niklaus cut through his thoughts with a sharp tone:
"Do what I said. Don't overthink it."
Then he turned to Adele, his crimson eyes meeting her silent tears. His voice was firm, but not harsh:
"Little girl. If you care about Maria's sacrifice—her life for yours... then do as I say."
Ethan shouted: "How cruel! Speak to children with kindness!"
But Adele didn't look at Ethan. She looked at Niklaus, tears still on her cheeks, then slowly nodded her small head. She reached out her little hand to grab Ethan's in silence. Her agreement. Her acceptance. Her trust in Niklaus's harsh words—words that carried a vague promise of return.
Niklaus grabbed his cloak. The fading System alert still burned in his inner vision, reminding him of an hourglass running out.
Niklaus stepped out of the dark cave mouth, leaving behind the faint warmth of the fire and the silence of Ethan and Adele. The cold air hit his face like a slap, carrying with it Ethan's final words—his sharp ear catching them despite the distance:
"Even when you leave... I'll still see you. So... you have to come back."
The words were muttered like a desperate prayer—not for goodbye, but for an invisible bond Ethan clung to. It wasn't a master-servant relationship, nor ordinary friendship. It was more like a shadow chasing its body, or an old scar refusing to heal. Even if Niklaus disappeared into the forest's gloom, or turned into a corpse, Ethan wouldn't forget him easily. Niklaus's presence in his life was like a sword hanging over his head—a source of undeniable terror, but removing it would leave a void as vast as death itself.
Niklaus stopped for a moment. His crimson eyes flickered in the cold dark. He heard the words, but chose not to understand them. Understanding required investing in feelings he didn't possess, in bonds he refused to acknowledge.
He turned and placed his foot on the white snow covering the ground. The crunch beneath his boot was the only sound in a world wrapped in dawn's silence. The sun hadn't risen yet—only a pale gray twilight loomed on the eastern horizon, as if the world was holding its breath.
He began walking east, as the System had commanded. But every step was an effort. Weakness seeped into his bones like a hidden poison. How had he collapsed so completely after that short fight at the inn? The attackers were strong, yes, but not legendary. Also, how had Marcus stayed alive even after being stabbed? Suspicious signs began to surface as he remembered the tattoo forming on Marcus's face.
Then he remembered: the Emperor's aura. Just a fleeting memory of that man's majesty was enough to make Niklaus feel like an insect under a boot. If the Emperor wanted him dead, he wouldn't need more than a gesture. Hatred flared in Niklaus's chest—not for the danger of death, but for the weakness that made him vulnerable to a death chosen by others, not by him. He might not want to live, but he refused to be crushed because he was weak. If he lived in this hellish world, he would live with enough strength to be master of his fate until the very end.
[System Warning: Approaching Forest of Death. Detection of elite duchy knights at distance: 50 meters.]
Niklaus stopped.
Elite knights. Guardians of the forbidden forest. Even from this distance, his heightened perception picked up their powerful auras—alert as wolves. He tried to hide his presence, pulling his energy inward, making himself a ghost among the trees. But doubt gnawed at him. These weren't ordinary guards. They were hunters trained to detect the slightest movement, to smell fear on the wind. Hiding wouldn't be enough.
Instead of crawling like a frightened rat, he broke into a run. Snow sprayed beneath his feet. Speed pushed him forward like an arrow, but the weakness that had plagued him since waking made his movements less fluid than usual. He was pushing his body to its limits.
"There! By the pine trees!" a knight's shout cut through the silence.
Whistling. Arrows pierced the cold air before he could see them clearly. One. Two. Ten. They rained down on him from crossing directions. He dodged with terrifying skill, his body twisting into impossible positions with precision and speed. But one arrow—loosed from a powerful bow behind a nearby tree—pierced his defense.
Niklaus bent forward. A sharp, explosive pain tore through his right shoulder. The arrow went through the muscle, warm blood soaking his black cloak and beginning to drip onto the white snow beneath him, painting crimson dots.
He glanced back quickly. The knights were closing in. Their steel helmets glinted in the dim light, their swords drawn. They were only thirty meters away, closing fast.
Ahead of him: a cliff edge. A deep chasm. Below, a frozen river writhed between sharp rocks. Mist rose from its cold surface. This was the boundary. Beyond the river... the Forest of Death. Its massive black trees, tangled together, seemed to breathe darkness even from this distance.
"Seize him! Before he jumps! He'll cross the duchy's forbidden border!" the knight commander shouted, his voice a mix of terror and rage.
Niklaus stood at the edge. The fierce wind struck his face, carrying the knights' shouts and the smell of his own blood. Looking down was like staring into the mouth of hell. Jumping meant possible death. But falling into the knights' hands... meant torture, exposing Adele's secret, a slow death, or being dragged back in chains to the Emperor. Death here was better.
Then he remembered. The skill "Shadow Summoning." Unlocked now (Spirit 90). But how? The System hadn't explained. This wasn't a time for thinking. It was a time for action.
Before he jumped, he closed his eyes for a moment. He focused. Not with physical strength, but with force of will—with the power of that void mixed with darkness that had begun to fill in his soul. He imagined the darkness beneath his feet not as emptiness, but as solid ground. As if summoning earth from nothing.
"Activate!" he cried out only in his mind.
No dramatic transformation occurred. No black wings, no giant shadows. But at the moment of the jump... he felt a cold push surge from beneath his feet and strike the ground under the cliff's edge. As if thick, frozen air had compressed for an instant under the weight of his will.
Then he jumped.
It wasn't flight. It was a guided fall. The summoned shadow didn't carry him, but it slightly broke his momentum, giving him a horizontal push toward the middle of the frozen river—away from the rocks. The wind whistled in his ears. The rocky ground and sharp edges rushed past at terrifying speed. He saw the knights' faces above the cliff edge, their eyes wide with shock and helpless rage. One of them uselessly reached out his hand as if trying to catch him in midair.
Impact!
It wasn't the hard impact with solid ice he had expected. It was a sudden plunge into a frozen hell. The river's icy surface shattered under his weight and speed. The dark, freezing black water—cold as death itself—swallowed him instantly.
The shock stopped his heart for a moment. The cold pierced his body like thousands of icy needles, testing his limits. The pain in his shoulder from the arrow doubled, as if doused in salt.
He opened his eyes underwater. Air bubbles escaped from his mouth and nose toward the distant surface. The darkness was nearly complete—only faint flashes of pale light from the hole he had made in the ice above.
He sank.
His heavy body, the soaked cloak, the weakness that had returned with full force after spending energy on "Shadow Summoning"... all of it dragged him down. He tried to move, but the cold depths held him brutally. He saw the water's surface receding, the light fading. The sudden silence was terrifying. The knights' shouts disappeared. The wind's whistle stopped. Only the deep hum of water in his ears, and the silent call of the void.
"River... the duchy's border..." he thought with difficulty, his mind beginning to fade. "They won't follow me here... into the Forest of Death..."
That was a good thing. But the price... was drowning in this frozen water. Death. The death he might have wanted all along.
There was no fear now. Only a cold surrender to the current that began dragging him away beneath the ice. The light vanished completely. Darkness became absolute. The cold turned to numbness creeping from his extremities toward his heart.
He closed his heavy crimson eyes. "This... is good..." was the last clear thought crossing his frozen mind.
Then... unconsciousness.
His limp body, drifting in the dark depths, carried silently by the cold river's current toward the heart of the Forest of Death.