Raoul was fast, not just for someone his age but for a human in general.

However, right now, it was hard simply to take a step forward. He was making his way to the village while carrying bags upon bags of meat to deliver to Wistin. He thought he could easily make it, but he had never carried anything that weighed almost as much as himself while running before, and after a few short spurts of dashes, his stamina had already depleted.

Nevertheless, his pride didn’t allow him to take a break, and he forced his legs to move, even if he could feel every bit of his muscles protesting. Finally, he reached the rendezvous point and dropped all baggage to the ground.

The boy rested against a tree, sighing.

It had been three days since he, Alwig, and Valent implemented the plan. As far as Raoul knew, everything was going smoothly. However, the meat he carried played no part in it; he simply wanted to give his parents some of it.

Then, his thoughts were suddenly disrupted.

The boy sensed someone approaching the bush before the rustling sounds even reached his ears. He wasn’t alert when the aged farmer entered the clearing.

“This is… quite a lot, Raoul,” Wistin said as he counted the bags. “Do you intend to make your parents eat nothing but meat for days?”

“I mean to give some to you as well, Uncle, so please accept it,” Raoul said, getting up and stretching. The soreness hadn’t receded still.

“That aside, I have some good news, boy,” the farmer said, smiling. “The village chief is subtly chasing away the soldiers! The first thing he did was to gather all hunters in our village and—“

“And give them vacation, am I right?” Raoul smirked, nodding to himself.

“H-how did you know that?”

“And he also cut off the trade routes temporarily, right? That must have made the soldiers quite agitated, having neither meat nor traded goods.” Raoul couldn’t help but giggle. “They may have been to war, but I doubt they would want to experience that time of their lives where they eat nothing but slob. They will probably leave soon.”

“Wait, Raoul,” Wistin cut in, his mouth open. “Was that your doing?”

The boy puffed up his chest, holding a fist to his chest. “Indeed. There’s nothing that could stop me and my friend.”

That was when the village’s bell rang, the sound small yet ominous where they were.

Wistin froze, his face turning paler. “Your… friend? No, wait. How did you get in contact with the village chief in the first place?”

Raoul clicked his tongue a few times while waggling his finger. “Connections, Uncle. The answer is connections.”

The farmer suddenly swallowed, sweat running down his body. “Raoul… You, where have you been sleeping?”

The boy cocked his head. “Some days in a cave, and some by a campfire.”

“I-I see, I see.” Wistin stepped back.

Of course, Raoul noticed the farmer’s strange behavior, but at age, he was still naive enough to think it was some adult issue he wouldn’t be able to understand yet. “Are you not taking the meat back with you, Uncle?” the boy asked.

“A-ah, of course, of course,” Wistin said before he hurriedly picked up each bag. “I’ll be s-sure to give your parents your regards. I’ll get going n-now.” The farmer then fumbled his way back without once looking Raoul in the eye.

The boy could only scratch his head and give up on thinking in the end. He felt soreness surging back in his legs and decided to rest some more before going back. He propped himself against a tree, his legs crossed, two hands behind his head. And before he knew it, he started to drift off.

Raoul dreamt.

It was neither a prophetic nor a cryptic dream; he simply dreamt of doing chores, running around with other children, and spending his daily life like normal. Even though it was a dream where his consciousness was barely there, he hadn’t realized how much he missed the normal, monotonous life he had before.

He enjoyed his time with the wolves, of course, but unbelievably, he thought that he had enough adventure for the month. It was something he wouldn’t admit aloud, however. He felt like his parents would say something smugly if they knew what he was thinking.

‘I told you that the village life isn’t that bad.’

‘You finally see the value of working, huh, Raoul?’

He could already imagine their faces, and he was not one bit pleased.

Then, the dream was cut short as he heard rustling sounds approaching him. He thought it was Uncle Wistin at first, but when he focused on his senses, he realized that there were multiple presences. Raoul immediately got up to his feet, forced his legs to walk through the pain, and hid behind another tree.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

“Where is he?” he heard a woman yell. It should be Aunt Fleri. “Where is that devil child?”

“H-he was here not long ago,” Uncle Wistin said.

“Damn that devil! How dare he taint our village chief!”

For some reason, dots connected inside his head, and Raoul knew instantly what was happening.

They thought that an evil spirit had taken over his body since he hadn’t been inside a house after the third bell for days now. Wistin must have told the other villagers after realizing that fact. The superstition had eluded Raoul completely as he was occupied with something all the time; the same must go for the villagers as well. Until today.

Normally, they wouldn’t mind the superstition this much, but from the misunderstanding that stemmed from Wistin, they had concluded that the village chief who had been acting strangely for the past few days was the result of a devil influencing him. For them, that was enough evidence to take action.

Raoul suddenly found it difficult to breathe. There were so many villagers, all used to be kind to him, but when he peeked one eye out to see their expressions, he only saw loathing and disgust. And the cause of those emotions was him. Nausea rose in his throat, but he swallowed the invisible lump of emotions back down.

‘Composure shows that you are in control.’

And being in control right now was what he needed.

“What’s with all the ruckus!” a voice boomed.

The sound of heavy footsteps followed, the soldiers entering past the bushes one by one. This group was the one Raoul recognized, the ones who made trouble on their first day at the village.

“You,” the soldier with a scar over his mouth said. “Tell me what is going on.”

“U-uh…” Aunt Fleri fluttered, no other words leaving her mouth.

“I-it’s like this, sir!” Uncle Wistin chimed in as he stepped up. “T-the child that had attacked you…” There was hesitation in his voice, but regardless, he continued, “He, he is around here somewhere, but he must have been tainted by the evil spirit! That must have been why the chief acted so strangely!”

The soldiers looked at each other, smiles appearing on their faces. The scarred soldier turned to the other villagers. “Worry not,” he assured, tapping the hilt of the sword on his belt. “I will purge the evil spirit and protect the village!”

There was a moment of silence before the villagers started cheering.

“As expected of the kingdom’s heroes!”

“To think we were unwelcoming to you before! We are ashamed!”

“The saviors of our village!”

It took a while for the noise to quiet down, but finally, the scarred man ordered, “I want you to help me search the vicinity, find out where the devil is, and report its whereabouts to me as fast as possible! We will rid the kingdom of this demon and bring light upon this village once more!”

Even Uncle Wistin was cheering, and Raoul didn’t know what to believe anymore. From how the adults were reacting, what if they were correct? What if he was a devil? Perhaps he was already tainted before he left the village, and that was why he attacked the soldier in the first place.

Raoul shook his head.

No, Agnes had told him many times before that he should believe in himself. He trusted the mother wolf, so he wouldn’t doubt himself.

The soldiers and villagers spread out. Some villagers were even holding farming tools as weapons while each soldier was equipped with some sort of weapon.

Raoul lowered his body and started to move, taking each step with caution he never exerted before. He was always the one hunting and not the one hunted. He could feel his heartbeat going frantic, and we wondered if his pursuers would be able to hear it.

There were many paths in the forest, but unfortunately, the path back to the cave was occupied by some villagers and soldiers. They trod deeper and deeper, and another realization flashed inside the boy’s mind.

It was only a matter of time before they found and hurt Agnes and Alwig.

Raoul knew he had to take a risk to reach the wolves before these pursuers did, and he didn’t hesitate. He bolted through the forest, not caring if others saw him anymore.

“W-what was that?”

“There it is! The devil!”

The boy didn’t need to look back to know that a horde of people was chasing after him. He also knew that they would catch up soon.

A throb ran down his legs from the previous soreness. He stumbled but managed to right himself after. He could feel presences closing in on him, but still, he didn’t look back and only ran forward.

The path slowly became harder to run through. And though Raoul realized a while back that this would happen, he still didn’t prepare himself mentally when he tripped and fell to the ground, his body rolling on the dirt a few times from his momentum.

He pushed himself off immediately, but a soldier had already reached him. The scarred man grabbed him by the collar and pulled him off the ground with one hand. “There you are,” the man panted, “you damn rat-like brat.”

Raoul was so tired he could faint, but he willed himself to stay awake and glared back at the man.

“Oh?” The man’s veins were visible on his forehead, his face red. “Look at you. Don’t you know…” He punched Raoul in the stomach, the boy sputtering saliva and choking. “…that you should respect adults?”

The scarred man let go of Raoul, and the boy fell to the ground with a thud. He wheezed for air, looking up with a glare still.

The man’s face became even redder, and other soldiers started to catch up to them, watching the spectacle from behind, giggling and jeering with each other.

“At first,” the scarred soldier started, “I was going to just teach you a lesson when I find you, but look at the circumstances now.” He shook his head and smiled, even if Raoul could still feel immense rage from him. “If I don’t bring back your corpse today, then how would the villagers be able to rest easy? Surely you understand… my predicament!” He kicked Raoul in the stomach, the boy feeling a jolt of pain taking over his body, and he curled on the ground with his consciousness fading.

It started to not hurt, and he didn’t think that was a good sign. He looked up. “W… hy…?” he said, his peripherals turning dark. “Why… are you soldiers… such losers?”

All at once, the soldiers’ face distorted into one single emotion: anger.

“This little bastard…” said the scarred soldier as he unsheathed his sword. “I am a hero who won countless battles on the frontline. Get better pair of eyes in your next life.”

Raoul closed his eyes, ready for the blade of the war hero to slay him, the devil. Though, because his eyes were closed, his other senses were heightened, and he noticed a presence fast approaching. He smiled and muttered, “It’s not my time to go yet, it seems…”

“What the hell are you—“

A guttural, bestial roar filled the forest. The boy opened his eyes and saw his friend blocking the soldiers. Alwig looked back at Raoul; then his eyes’ color turned from blue ocean to icy snow. The young wolf glared at the soldiers, the wind suddenly turning tumultuous.

Alwig growled. “You will not leave here unharmed today, I can assure you.”