At midnight, the forest transformed into a realm of its own. Moonlight threaded through the dense canopy, casting a silvery glow on the path ahead. The dim light that peeked through the leaves served as their guide as Asdras and Second moved cautiously.

Twisted, gnarled trees stood like silent sentinels. The rustling underbrush hinted at unseen movements, creating an unsettling sensation of being watched from all sides.

Asdras followed closely behind Second, his mind still churning over the words he talked with Second and the trials he needed to overcome.

Second abruptly stopped and raised a hand, pointing to the left. Asdras peered into the dim light and spotted a creature. It was stout and nimble, covered in coarse fur, with elongated legs and delicate hooves that moved with odd grace.

Second handed Asdras his sword. The cool blade felt solid in his grasp. Second patted his shoulder in silent encouragement.

As Asdras held the sword, a surge of energy coursed through him. A dormant necessity seemed to awaken within, causing his blood to rush with newfound purpose.

For a moment, the weight of his worries vanished, replaced by an instinctive focus and readiness. The sword anchored him to the present, sharpening his senses and steadying his resolve as Second spoke.

“That animal is our food and energy. Since you’ve lost your memories, let your instincts take over. Don’t overthink it; just act as your body tells you. Trust me.”

Asdras’s instincts took over, sharpening his senses and guiding his movements with primal precision. The sword felt like an extension of his arm as he gripped it firmly, his body moving silently.

He circled the peculiar animal, staying out of its range, his eyes never leaving its form. Each step was deliberate, his feet barely making a sound on the forest floor. Using the trees and underbrush as cover, he blended seamlessly with the surroundings.

He picked up a rock, feeling its rough texture against his skin. With a swift, calculated toss, he sent it skimming through the air. The impact startled the creature, diverting its attention to the right.

Asdras’s body tensed, judging the moment to be right. He dashed forward, his movements fluid and silent, the moonlight casting fleeting shadows as he moved.

Approaching the intersection of two trees, he anticipated the creature's flight path. As expected, it bent left, away from the noise. Using the tree to his advantage, Asdras leaped, pushing off with his feet and propelling himself through the air.

His body twisted mid-air, aligning the sword perfectly as he descended upon the creature. The blade sliced through the air, finding its mark with swift precision.

The sword cut through the animal's neck, silencing it before it could make a sound. Asdras landed softly, the impact’s vibrations resonating through his arms.

He held his breath, listening for any sign of other beasts. The forest remained still, the only sound was his steady heartbeat.

“Told you.” Second said, smiling at Asdras. His single eye gleamed with approval as he glanced at the animal. “Fair or not, the empire never wastes its talents. You have a special talent for both swordsmanship and hunting.”

“That felt good.”

A strange sense of familiarity washed over Asdras as he wielded the sword, his body moving on its own. Each movement felt instinctive, as if he had performed this dance countless times.

There was comfort in the fluidity of his actions, reassuring him that his muscle memory remained intact despite the gaps in his mind. As the adrenaline faded, a quiet happiness bloomed within him — a sense of belonging to something he couldn’t fully remember. In that moment, it felt like he had reclaimed a lost part of himself.

“It really seems like my trial is to defeat that monster.”

“You’ve accepted it faster than I expected. How do you feel?”

“I don’t know; it felt hollow, as if chains held me, yet…”

Asdras looked down at the sword, its blade faintly gleaming in the moonlight, then shifted his gaze to the lifeless creature at his feet. He glanced around the dark, silent forest, the trees standing as silent witnesses to his actions. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened his hand and stared at his palm.

“Yet, it felt right. It’s strange. I didn’t tell you, but I felt a sense of familiarity with this place — the tents, the ground. It doesn’t make sense. It’s impossible for me to have been here before all of this happened. And from your story, this place was different before — the houses were in the trees, not tents on the ground. So why do I feel like I’ve been here before?”

“Well.” Second scratched his head, speaking in a low voice. “I’m not Fifth, who knew about the mind. But maybe the sense of familiarity comes from the days you were in and out, waking and dozing off.”

“Hmm, maybe. What about this?” Asdras touched the animal with the sword tip. “Should we go back?”

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“No, we still need to reach that place. Keep the sword; you’re better off with it than I am. I’ll carry the animal.”

“Okay, let me help.”

Asdras bent down to help Second lift the carcass. Together, they maneuvered it onto Second's shoulders, carefully balancing the lifeless body.

Second positioned the legs over his left shoulder, securing them with his arm against the animal's abdomen. The creature's neck draped over his right shoulder, gripped firmly by his right hand.

As he adjusted his hold, warm blood seeped from the cut, trickling down his arm. With a nod of thanks, Second stood ready and said.

“Let’s go. It’s near.”

Asdras followed closely behind Second, his gaze shifting with each step. He glanced at the sword in his hand, gripping it harder, feeling its familiar weight and balance as he maneuvered it through the air in small, instinctive motions.

His eyes darted around, scanning the dark forest, certain that unseen eyes watched their every move. The feeling of being watched made his skin prickle with unease.

Occasionally, Asdras glanced over his shoulder, ensuring they were not followed. His gaze then settled on Second, who moved steadily ahead, the carcass balanced on his shoulders. Despite Second's physical state, Asdras noted his nimble steps and controlled breath.

“Tell me about that song.”

Second paused when he heard Asdras's question. He adjusted the carcass on his shoulders, shifting his stance to ease the strain.

He scanned the shadows and silent trees, then nodded as if deciding on a direction. Turning left, he led Asdras through a narrow opening between a row of trees and a cluster of rocks.

As they emerged into a small clearing bathed in moonlight, Second smiled. “It’s an old song from a time when we still remembered who we were. It’s a song of hope and memory.”

“Hope and memory? From what I remember, the song is pretty grim, no?”

“It is, but it isn’t. You’re not awake yet, so you don’t understand. It sounds grim and dark, but when you feel it and live it, its meaning is different.”

“Is it? Then I hope to awaken and understand it, because it seems I need to learn it.”

“You will. Do you know how to play?”

“Yes, I think so. It’s the same with the sword. When I saw Sixth playing, my hands felt itchy, and my fingers danced on their own.”

“Good with swords and the lute. It seems your identity is more special than I thought.”

“Why?”

“In the empire, nobles skilled in fighting are usually placed in the army on a leadership path or trained as elites. Those who play the lute well are trained for ceremonies and rituals, holding special political roles. Since you have both talents, you’re different. You could be a prince, y’know.”

“Me? A prince? I don’t think so.”

“Imagine! Here I am, walking through a cursed forest with a prince, carrying his hunting reward. Truly inspirational. Well, think positive. If your identity is so special, maybe you really do have a good chance of killing that monster.”

“I hope so. That thing — it’s not normal. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Neither have I. That thing is from the children’s tales our parents told us, stories to scare us from venturing alone in the forest. That monster is at least a plagued tier or doomed.”

“Tier?”

“Sorry, I forgot you lost your memories. Monsters are divided into ranks and tiers. From what I know, that thing is rank one. I’m certain because they sent you here to defeat it, and no one would send someone who still needs to awaken to fight a rank two. Now, about the tiers.”

“There are seven tiers. I don’t know much about them. My time in the academy was short because I was a noble’s bastard son, so it was difficult. From lowest to highest, the tiers are: common, tainted, ravaged, plagued, doomed, cursed, and corrupted.”

“In essence, the higher the tier, the more dangerous it is. The names indicate the potential chaos the monster could cause. For example, if a monster is plagued, it could cause plagues and diseases.”

“Why not cursed? From what you told me, the cause of everything here was a curse.”

“If it were cursed, then on the first day, everyone would be dead—or at least that’s what the children’s tales tell us. There’s an old saying for each tier: if it’s common, then combat; and for cursed, if it’s cursed, then end your life.”

“What about corrupted?”

They stopped at a desolate square, overtaken by nature’s relentless reclaim. Plants and moss clung to the remains of wood beams and rooftops, green tendrils wrapping around the decaying structures as if to pull them back into the earth. The air was thick with dampness and decay, the moisture adding a cold bite to the midnight air.

A broken statue stood in the middle of the square, its once-majestic form now worn by time. The statue depicted a woman draped in a thin, delicate dress; her features were serene and hauntingly beautiful.

A crow perched on her shoulder, its eyes seemingly alive with eternal watchfulness, while she held a book in her hand, its pages frozen in stone. Around her neck hung the remnants of a broken necklace, adorned with a crown and an hourglass. The statue stood atop a wheel, which seemed eerily out of place.

The wheel was made of dark stones. Unlike the rest of the square, it was conspicuously free of dust and plants, as if even nature recoiled from it in fear. Surrounding the statue’s base was a pool of still, dark red water, its surface undisturbed and ominous.

“If it’s corrupted, well, no one knows. And we are here.”

Asdras watched the place with wide-eyed curiosity, his gaze drawn to the overgrown remnants of the square. His eyes were fixed on the wheel and the statue.

“Why are we here?” Asdras asked, his voice tinged with wonder and apprehension.

Second looked at him, shadows of the night casting deep lines on his weathered face. He adjusted the carcass on his shoulders once more before speaking, his tone solemn and deliberate.

“This place holds answers, kid,” he said, his gaze shifting to the statue. “It’s here; you’re going to awake.”