The carriage rolled forward, its wooden wheels creaking softly against the dirt path. Darkness enveloped the world beyond its lantern-lit interior, broken only by the occasional shimmer of moonlight piercing through the thick canopy above. The forest stretched endlessly in all directions, ancient trees standing like silent sentinels, their twisted branches reaching toward the sky.
The stillness was near absolute, save for the occasional hoot of an owl echoing through the trees. Unseen creatures scurried through the underbrush, rustling dry leaves before vanishing into the shadows. The distant chirping of crickets wove a ceaseless melody, a delicate contrast to the otherwise solemn night.
Inside the carriage, Darian sat in silence, his gaze drifting toward the window. Across from him, Marie remained motionless, her face shadowed in the flickering lantern light.
Suddenly, the carriage came to an abrupt halt. Darian lurched forward.
"What happened?" he asked, turning to the driver. Silence answered him.
Marie's expression shifted, her usual cold demeanor giving way to sharp alertness.
Darian noticed immediately. "Marie—?"
"Your Highness, we are surrounded," she said plainly.
"By wh—"
Before he could finish, Marie flung open the door and leapt outside.
"Damn it...!" Darian cursed, quickly following her.
What met him was anything but ordinary. Marie stood in the center of a loose circle of armed men—ten, maybe fifteen—clad in worn-out clothes, their weapons crude but deadly. Despite the numbers, she remained composed, as if this were a mere inconvenience.
Darian's gaze shifted to a lone figure standing apart from the rest. Unlike the others, this man radiated authority. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his weathered face marred by a jagged scar running from brow to cheek. A battle-worn saber rested at his hip. His dark eyes, keen and assessing, locked onto Darian with quiet amusement.
Darian's fingers twitched toward his sword. "Do you know who I am?"
The man smirked. "Even if you were a king, it wouldn't matter."
Darian exhaled slowly. They truly had no fear.
The burly man turned to Marie. "Restrain her. Don't let her interfere."
"Yes, boss," one of his men replied, stepping forward with wary eyes.
"Alright." The leader shifted his focus back to Darian, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps.
Darian narrowed his eyes. Something about this man was off—his unsettling composure, the confidence he carried.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Darian asked.
The man's lips curled. "Didn't I say it wouldn't matter even if you were a king?"
With that, he drew his saber. It gleamed under the moonlight, a cold promise of violence.
Darian unsheathed his own blade, settling into a practiced stance.
The air grew still. Neither moved, locked in a tense stare, waiting for the first strike.
"I hope you won't disappoint me," the man murmured.
Darian's expression darkened, but before he could respond, the man smirked—and vanished.
Darian's eyes widened. His instincts screamed. Without thinking, he swung his sword sideways.
Clang!
Steel met steel. Sparks scattered into the night. The burly man held firm, his calm expression betraying neither strain nor hesitation. A small, amused smile tugged at his lips.
"Not bad," he mused, eyes glinting with interest.
Then he disappeared again.
Darian barely twisted in time to block an attack from the opposite direction.
Clang!
The impact rattled his arms. He clicked his tongue in frustration. Each strike was immense, and keeping up with the man's absurd speed was draining him fast. Every muscle screamed in protest, his breath growing heavier.
I can't hold him off much longer...
Gritting his teeth, Darian steadied himself, but the relentless assault forced him backward step by step.
"You're not a bandit," he said through clenched teeth, ignoring the pain coursing through him.
He had fought Aldric many times. Even though Aldric never went all out, Darian could tell—the difference between this man and Aldric was like heaven and earth.
The burly man smirked. "Much better than the information provided."
Darian's mind reeled. "So you were sent by someone, after all."
Before he could say more, a crushing force slammed into his stomach.
The world blurred. Trees snapped like twigs as he crashed through them. Debris scattered, a thick cloud of dust rising into the air.
The man didn't move. Arms crossed, he waited.
As the dust settled, a battered figure emerged. Blood dripped from Darian's face, his clothes torn and dirt-covered. A far cry from the noble warrior he had been moments ago.
But the man wasn't interested in his wounds. He only cared about that expression—still calm, still unwavering.
A satisfied smile crossed his lips. "Not bad."
Darian wiped the blood from his cheek, meeting the man's gaze. "I don't know who sent you, but I won't give up until my last breath."
With those words, he inhaled deeply. A faint glow pulsed along the sword mark on his hand.
He didn't want to use it. But he had no choice.
"So, you still have some tricks up your sleeve?" The man scrutinized him, intrigued by the change in his demeanor.
Darian's eyes opened—sharper than ever. In one fluid motion, he unsheathed his sword.
"Twil—"
Just a darian about to call Twilightfang a dagger flew toward the burly man. With a flick of his wrist, he deflected it effortlessly.
"Your Highness...!"
Marie's voice rang out.
Both Darian and the man turned. Marie was sprinting toward them, her expression tense. Behind her, every one of the man's subordinates lay lifeless—none with their bodies intact.
The burly man exhaled through his nose, a mix of amusement and mild disappointment flashing in his eyes. "Boy, I shall take my leave now... but soon, we will meet again."
Though eager to witness Darian's next move, there was no need to go overboard. His assigned task was complete. There would be other opportunities.
With that, he vanished into the night, leaving behind an eerie silence. The battlefield, now still, bore the scars of destruction.
"Your Highness...!" Marie called again, urgency in her voice.
Darian turned toward her, eyelids fluttering. He wanted to respond, but exhaustion took its toll. His legs buckled beneath him.
Before Marie could reach him, he collapsed.