Chapter 20 - New Routine

Aric returned to the hidden hideout, the weight of exhaustion pressing heavily on his shoulders. The small cache of supplies he managed to salvage from the ruins of his hut had been a meagre find, but it would have to suffice.

His mind was set on a single goal: to restore some semblance of normalcy, to get back to the routine that had kept him strong and prepared for the countless dangers of the forest.

Setting up camp was the first step. The hideout, though hidden and secure, lacked the comforts of his former home. Aric unrolled the half-burned blanket he had found, smoothing it over the cold ground.

He arranged his meagre belongings in a corner, placing the tools and bits of cloth where they would be easily accessible. It was a far cry from the life he had before, but it would have to do.

As the day turned to evening, Aric began his patrol of the woods. His body protested with every step, the pain in his wounds a constant reminder of his recent battles.

But he pushed through it, determined to regain his strength and reclaim his forest. He moved through the familiar paths, alert for any signs of intruders.

The first night was long and gruelling. Aric's routine was interrupted by frequent stops to check on the woman.

He would enter the hideout, glaring down at her as she lay bound and weakened by hunger and thirst. Each time, he demanded answers, his voice a harsh whisper in the darkness.

"Why did you take Vire? What do you want?"

But the woman remained silent, her eyes defiant even as her body grew weaker. Aric's anger flared each time she refused to speak, but he kept his promise. He denied her food and water, hoping that her resolve would break with each passing hour.

When he wasn't interrogating the woman or patrolling the woods, Aric focused on healing his wounds. He carefully rebandaged them, applying the herbal paste he had made, and rested as much as his body would allow.

The healing was slow, the pain a constant companion, but he forced himself to push through it.

During the day, he trained. He couldn't afford to let his skills grow dull, not with the enemies he knew were out there. Aric practised his swordsmanship relentlessly, moving through the sword skills that had become second nature to him over the years.

His movements were slower than usual, the pain in his muscles and the strain on his wounds making each swing of the sword a trial. But he continued, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion.

He also worked on refining his technique—the one that allowed him to slow time in his perception, to make his muscles move at their peak. It was a dangerous skill, one that demanded everything from his body, but it had saved him before and would need to save him again.

He focused on controlling his breathing, on regulating his heart rate to achieve that heightened state without collapsing from the effort.

For two days straight, Aric kept to this gruelling schedule. He patrolled the forest, fending off any invaders that dared to enter his domain. He interrogated the woman, her silence gnawing at his patience.

He rested and tended to his wounds, never allowing himself the luxury of complete rest. And he trained, forcing his body to adapt to the pain, to become stronger despite the injuries.

By the end of the second day, Aric was utterly exhausted. His body ached in ways he had never experienced before, and his mind was clouded by fatigue and frustration. But the forest was secure, and the woman had not escaped, though she remained as tight-lipped as ever.

As he sat by the small fire he had built outside the hideout, Aric allowed himself a brief moment of reflection. The last few days had been a blur of pain and anger, of relentless effort to regain control over his life and his forest.

But there was still so much he didn't know—about the woman, about Vire's whereabouts, and about the men who had attacked him.

Aric stared into the flames, his mind churning with thoughts of what was to come.

He knew he couldn't keep this up forever, that his body needed more time to heal, and that he needed answers if he was to make any progress.

But for now, all he could do was continue with his routine, hoping that something would give—whether it was the woman's silence or his own limits.

The next day would bring new challenges, new pains, and perhaps, new revelations. But Aric was ready, as ready as he could be. 

The hunt for Vire was far from over.