...

"Heyah!"

"Sir Mycen! Austin regained consciousness!"

"Good! Keep applying pressure on that wound, List. Don't take off that knife, you hear me?"

"Stay with us, Austin... We're almost there..."

...

"Sir, the cart's too shaky!"

"Shut it! Nothing we can do... Nolan, help them stabilize Austin!"

"Alright! Hey..."

...

"We're ascending the hill now! How's Austin?"

"He's still unconscious sir! The wound's bleeding a lot now."

"Sir Mycen, the stranger followed us till here!"

"We'll deal with him later, Charon. For now - "

...

"Haela! Haela, you there! Charon, get me Haela. Lift him now boys."

"On my count Runick. Support his legs, Nolan."

"Ready!"

"Go—"

...

"Sir!"

"Lay him there, but keep his knees bent. Charon, get me my bottle of alcohol. Haela!"

"Grandpa! Warm water and bandages—here. I'm boiling some more."

"Good. You'll assist me here. I could use some support. Rest of you lot, clear this area! Charon!..."

...

A hovel, its walls of hewn stone and weathered mortar, stood silently atop a low hill. Its clay roof showed cracks from years of service, yet it still fronted the cold of the night up to this day. From the thin stone chimney on one side, hot puffs of black smoke rose toward the dark sky. Dim lighting liven up its interior—it suggested the presence of someone at home.

In front of this humble abode grazed a majestic stallion. Its coat was a deep black, adorned with scattered white spots that stood out in the moonlight. Not too far from it was a four-wheeled wooden cart—dry traces of blackened liquid could be seen on one of its sides. The cart was situated next to a water well crafted from the same stone as the hovel. The well's mouth was covered by a neatly fitted trapdoor made of smooth, well-worn planks.

Stacked cobblestones, uneven and roughly cut, formed a crescent perimeter in front of the lawn. Their height varied but averaged above waist-high—it was enough to be called a fence. Midway along the stone fence stood an arch made of wooden poles, spanning about three arm lengths and a clearance no higher than two people. It served as the gateway to the path leading to the hovel it enclosed.

Charon stood there, his back resting against one of the arch's foundations. He gazed down at the base of the hill, where a shallow river flowed solemnly. Sparkling - like a liquified gem. The white sand of the riverbank gleamed in the moonlight, holding its own against the brilliance of the water.

On the other side of the river was a throng of varied tents—makeshift lodgings made of thatched roofs, planks, roped-together sticks, and cloth-like materials. The community's poorly built homes suggested they had settled there not long ago. The encampment outlined the riverbank, stretching almost a furlong in length, housing a few dozen families or so.

Charon, captivated by the scenery, was brought back to reality by the bitterness of the chilly air. Light footsteps echoed behind him. He turned to see who was approaching. It was a beautiful lady. Thin string wrapped around her silky, blonde hair as it bounced over her shoulders. She wore a white long-sleeved shirt topped with a loosened leather corset. In her hands were folded blankets, the ends flapping freely with her small, joyful steps.

Happiness—she exuded lots of it, her rosy lips adorned with a big smile. Her black working shoes tapped to the rhythm she cheerfully hummed as she trudged down the path made of leveled pebbles and dirt. Charon's attention was once again drawn away, glued to something else.

When the lady approached Charon, she tossed him one of the blankets. Charon caught it, although using his transfixed head as his attention seemed to be still elsewhere.

"Woohoo! It's freezing cold in here, don't you think?" the lady exclaimed as she wrapped the other blanket snugly around herself. Charon pulled the blanket down from his face and replied, "Then you shouldn't have come here, Haela."

Haela looked at him, her almond eyes meeting his. "Should I go back then?"

Charon quickly turned his head and looked away. He wrapped the blanket around his body as Haela did. "Well... I guess I could use someone to talk to."

"Pfft—that so...?" giggled Haela. She mimicked Charon, turning her attention to the settlement below them.

The wind whispered a song of serenity while the grasses below danced in harmony. Peaceful... It was a peaceful moment of sweet silence that the two enjoyed together.

"How's Austin?" Charon asked.

"He's stable now, thanks to Grandpa's skills. He hasn't regained consciousness yet, but he is now far from danger."

"Mhmm... He'll recover. Fast. I know it."

"He's tough. With Grandpa watching over him, I'm sure he'll pull through."

Haela looked over to Charon on her side. "You're worried?" she asked him.

"To Austin? Yeah, of course. But I trust—"

"No, I mean... of the other thing. I've heard about it from Nolan."

"Oh... The wolf-masked stranger," said Charon, casting a glance back at Haela before shifting his attention toward the woodlands on their right.

"I lost track of them when we were going up the hill earlier. He already knows this place, so I..." Charon paused for a moment, his expression troubled as if restraining his thoughts. After a heavy sigh, he then again started to speak his thoughts.

"Look Haela. I'm not doubting Sir Mycen, but I... I can't shake off this feeling that "that" stranger is somewhat... dangerous. They did nothing harmful to us, followed our demands, and then even saved Austin from the thug who outsmarted us, yes. We're thankful for that but... To think that they didn't die after a stab in the neck? Well—Nolan even shot them in their stomach, but they still moved as if nothing happened. And heck, they even had the whole strength to follow us from that camp until here—barefoot! I mean... whatever you tell me, that's not... It's just impossible, you know?"

"I know I'm being irrational again, like always, but... Couldn't we just trust Grandpa's decision for this one?"

"I do, Haela. I believe in Sir Mycen's instinct. But in the instance where that guy is not friendly at all? I doubt things will end pretty well around here. To mitigate that disaster is why I'm standing guard here."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"I hope it doesn't go in that direction then," Haela concluded.

"Agreed... Let's hope it doesn't," Charon affirmed.

Suddenly, they heard somebody shouting from back home. Nolan burst out of the front door and sprinted towards the gate where Haela and Charon stood.

"Haela! Charon! Sir Mycen, he... He injured List inside!" Nolan shouted, his rasped voice seemed breathless. The two, on the other hand, were dumbstruck at what they heard from Nolan.

"Say again, Nolan?" Charon's eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. His mind wouldn't accept the words Nolan was spouting.

Nolan arrived near the two—panting. "He... He tried to stab himself with the... with the kitchen knife. Haa... List saw him and intervened but... Haa... Just—" Nolan hadn't finished speaking when Haela abruptly turned and rushed back home.

"Sir Mycen... Definitely... there was something off with them earlier." Nolan continued to explain to Charon.

"Tell me what exactly happened in there." Confused, Charon hoped for an explanation—one that would satisfy the doubt lingering over his head.

"He's like drunk and grabbed the knife all of a sudden and... Wait, Charon—what's that over there?" Nolan gestured towards the woods at the base of the hill where they came from earlier. Charon's eyes widened in disbelief. He felt a chill creeping up his spine that had nothing to do with the cold of the night. Nervous—tension settled between the two.

Among the trees, a torch flickered. Its light wavered as it moved slowly through the air. Someone held it up. That someone pulled something like a large sled laden with items the two couldn't determine from that distance. However, one thing was unmistakable—recognized even from afar. That thing... was the wolf mask. It was none other than Adolph.

"Curse this timing. Couldn't have picked the worst time to reappear." Charon released the blanket draped around his body, letting it slip to the ground. Swiftly, he reached for the knife secured at his waist.

"Well, I'm dead... They've probably come back for me," said Nolan, his voice tinged with mock dread. "Think an apology could do the trick?" he added.

"Quit joking around Nolan..."

"I swear, Charon, I'm serious! I'm already scared as shit in here. That... thing, whatever you want to call it, is like... immortal, and now it's out for me?"

"Well, you've got two options: either sacrifice yourself to satisfy their revenge, or notify all those people back in the house and deal with this altogether."

"I think... I'll go with the second one, please," Nolan replied hastily, thrusting his bow and quiver into Charon's hands.

"Right. Off you go!" At Charon's signal, Nolan sprinted back towards the hovel. Charon turned his attention back to where Adolph was and let out a few words under his breath. "Alright then... What are you up to, wolf guy?"

...

Moments earlier.

Inside the hovel, around the kitchen area. A basket overflowing with bloodied rags sat on the cupboard, next to an open sewing kit. An iron kettle bubbled on the fireplace, tended to by List. A sterile cloth wrapped around his palm—the aftermath of the incident Nolan rushed to report earlier. Together with Runick, they watched over Austin who lay resting on the dining table.

Next to them was the living room where a conversation between Haela and Mycen took place.

"I'm sorry, Haela. I know I wasn't myself earlier. It was like I was in a trance, unable to control my actions... blaming myself for Austin's condition and everything else. Then that happened. I don't know—I... But I didn't mean to stab and kill myself, okay? I didn't mean to scare you like that, or anyone."

"Please, just don't do that again. Alright?"

"Yes, dear... I promise," Mycen replied softly, reaching out to gently pat Haela's back. His touch brought a wave of comfort that overwhelmed Haela. A comfort that ultimately made Haela's emotions break loose. She pressed her palms against her face, trying to hide the tears that threatened to spill—not wanting Mycen to see her break down. But Mycen understood, and it pained him just as deeply as it hurt Haela.

Mycen stood up and gave Haela some space, making his way over to the kitchen where List was tending to his injury.

"I'm deeply sorry for that foolish act, young man," Mycen's voice carried a weight of remorse as he addressed List by the fire.

"It's alright, sir. I was just surprised, but... Now I'm more worried about what happened to you. I know it's not like you to do that. If you're burdened by this accident, then please don't be. You already saved Austin and we're thankful... truly. But this entire thing wasn't your fault, to begin with."

"But it happened under my watch. I'm still responsible."

Runick interjected into their conversation. "Still, sir. We asked to be part of this. Each of us has our reasons—our lives are our responsibility. The point is, you don't have to carry this burden alone."

Relieved, Mycen felt the heavy weight on his shoulders lift as he heard those words. "I would've been lucky to have tough soldiers like you in the past. Thank you, List. Runick."

Suddenly, Nolan banged the front door open. With a face stricken with horror, he told them of the impending problem outside.

"Everyone! The wolf-masked man. It came back..."

All people inside who had heard of it, except Haela, felt a shiver down their spine. A recollection of their memory of Adolph assaulting the last thug flooded their minds. His viciousness with a bloodied mask flashed like a haunting image before their thoughts.

"List. Runick. Your weapons, go." Mycen, as soon as he handed out his orders, went towards Nolan at the front door. "Nolan, where's Charon?" he then asked.

"At the gate, watching over the situation. I gave him my bow."

"Alright. You go together with Runick and List. Get yourself a weapon—anything to defend yourself."

Haela stood up as she heard of the commotion. She went for Mycen and tugged his armor.

"What will I do, Grandpa?" she asked. Mycen, in return, gently cupped Haela's cheeks, wiping away the tears that streamed from her eyes.

"Listen, dear. You'll stay here and watch over Austin. Whatever you do, don't come outside. Understand? We'll deal with this ourselves."

"But that—"

"Sir! We're going first." Nolan shouted as he and the two behind him hurried out the door.

"Alright, I'll be following you shortly. Haela, I'll go now. Watch over Austin for the time being, alright?"

Mycen turned around and retrieved his fur cloak and black hat hanging by the stand near the front door. He left Haela inside—her face was distraught. For Mycen... for Charon... For all of them there. She stood by the window inside the house, her eyes fixed on the front yard. From there, she could barely see the situation at the gate as it was about to unfold.

"Stop right there!" Charon raised his bow and aimed. His target was Adolph a few steps away down the road.

Adolph lowered the torch, unfastened the ropes draped over his shoulders, and walked to the side of the road. Those ropes were tethered to a sled behind him—one that was rectangular, crafted from arm-sized logs, and topped with sturdy wooden planks. Above were various things secured in place with a sturdy rope.

There were boxes... crates containing everyday tools, rolls of cloth of different thicknesses, and other things. Additional stacked planks were stacked behind topped with something dangerous—weapons. Among them were arrows, machetes, hatchets, and a familiar long axe. Charon, upon having a good look at what Adolph brought with him, immediately knew why he vanished earlier.

"We're here Charon." Nolan, along with List and Runick, stood in line with Charon at the gate.

"Sir Mycen will come here a bit later," said Runick. "What are they doing here? And what's that?"

"I don't know what they're doing here, but now I know where they went earlier," Charon answered Runick as he pointed out the sled Adolph pulled with him.

"See that List?" Charon asked.

List pondered for a moment before nodding his head. "I... get what you mean."

"What is it?" Nolan asked, clueless of what the two were talking about.

"They plundered the camp we raided earlier," Charon answered. Enlightened, Nolan took a closer look at the items on the sled. It was the truth—the recognizable feathers and distinct markings on the arrows made him believe Charon's words.

Mycen hurriedly caught up with them. "List, Nolan, head behind the fence on the right and keep watch over the woods below. If you see any movement, shout immediately, understood?" With his command, the two left the gate and cautiously made their way toward the fence. Like an overwatch, they peered over the rocks and scanned the horizon with vigilant eyes.

"Did he say something, Charon?"

"No sir, but those things he dragged behind him... it all makes sense now," Upon hearing Charon, Mycen paused to have a look. It didn't take long before he understood what Charon meant. Slowly, his feet approached the Adolph whom they faced. Wary... Anxious.

"Just who are you, really..." Mycen asked. A moment of cold standoff happened between the two. Then suddenly—

"Adolph."

A low voice, gritty and intense, pierced the tense silence. It spoke with an overwhelming sense of authority that matched the enigmatic aura surrounding Adolph. It resonated with an intense presence—and aye, Adolph did talk. Adolph could speak, something that he couldn't do earlier. Finally, he could.

Again, his voice thundered menacingly before Mycen.

"My name..."

.

.

.

"... is Adolph."