CHAPTER FORTY NINE: BLOOD ON THE WIND

The village sat on the edge of a dense forest, its wooden homes worn and weathered by time. Thick mist curled around the buildings, seeping through the cracks like a silent intruder. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and burning wood, as if the land itself had absorbed the fear of its people. The streets were eerily quiet—too quiet. No children ran through the alleys, no merchants called out their wares. Doors remained shut, and the few villagers they passed kept their heads low, stealing nervous glances before hurrying away.

The weight of unease pressed down on us. Even Ken, who usually carried himself with an air of indifference, had a sharpness in his gaze, his fingers twitching near the holster of his gun. Nicole's whip remained coiled at her side, but her stance was tense, as if she expected something to lunge at us from the shadows. As for me, I could already tell this was more than just a beast problem. There was something else at play here. Something worse.

But none of us voiced our concerns. Instead, we moved in silence, heading toward the largest building in the center of the village—the elder's home. If anyone had answers, it would be him.

The village elder's hut was large and sturdy, built from thick logs and reinforced with worn stones. The structure had weathered countless seasons, standing strong even as the village around it seemed to crumble.

Nicole stepped forward and rapped gently on the door. A moment later, it creaked open, and we were ushered inside.

A single lantern flickered in the dimly lit room, casting long, restless shadows against the walls. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and old parchment, a mixture of wisdom and decay. Seated on a wooden chair, the elder was a frail man, his skin lined with age, his deep-set eyes carrying the weight of years.

His gaze flickered over us, lingering just long enough to measure who—or what—stood before him. "Who are you, children?"

Nicole stepped forward, her voice steady. "We're from Ashwood Haven Academy. My name is Nicole. The scowling blonde is Liam, and the other one is Ken."

Ken gave a dull wave. "Hey."

I barely paid attention to the introductions, my eyes scanning the room, taking in the shelves stacked with scrolls, the dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, the faint scent of something burnt—like incense that had long since faded.

Nicole continued, "We came because of the beast terrorizing your village."

The elder studied us in silence. His gaze drifted over the dirt and blood staining our clothes, the signs of a battle already fought. Then, with a slow, weary sigh, he spoke.

"So… you've met the beast."

His voice was raspy, aged, but there was no fear in it—only grim acceptance. Not the voice of a man clinging to hope, but of someone who had already accepted defeat.

Nicole stepped forward, her voice steady. "Yes. We fought it, but it escaped."

The elder nodded, as if he had expected that answer. "Then you understand. That thing is no ordinary beast. It doesn't just kill—it torments. It strikes when we least expect it, leaves just enough survivors to spread the fear, and vanishes into the night like a ghost."

I folded my arms, leaning against the cool wooden wall. "And yet, you don't seem surprised that it got away."

The elder's tired eyes met mine. "Because it always does."

Ken clicked his tongue. "Tch. A lot of confidence in us, old man."

The elder ignored him, his gaze shifting back to Nicole. "If you're here to kill it, I hope you're smarter than the last group who tried."

Nicole stiffened. "Last group?"

The elder let out a long, weary sigh, running a frail hand down his face. "You weren't the first. Others have come before you—mercenaries, warriors, even a group of skilled hunters. None returned." His voice darkened. "That thing is learning. Adapting."

A slow chill crawled up my spine. If the beast was evolving with every battle, then this mission had just become a lot more complicated.

Nicole exchanged a glance with Ken before turning back to the elder. "Then tell us everything you know."

The old man hesitated, his gaze flickering toward the lantern's dim light. Then, with a heavy breath, he gestured toward the seats scattered around the room. "Sit. If you want to understand what you're up against… listen carefully."

The air in the room thickened, the shifting lantern light casting restless shadows along the walls. Whatever truth the elder was about to reveal, one thing was certain—this was far from over.

The old man exhaled slowly, his gaze distant, as if trapped in a memory he wished he could forget.

"This all started when a group of mercenaries built a lab in our community. They told us it was for our benefit. At first, it seemed like a blessing. They provided chemicals that enriched our soil, and for a brief year, our crops flourished like never before. We were happy… content.

But then, things changed.

They began testing on us. Slowly, carefully, so we wouldn't suspect. They offered us a way to make our young ones strong—stronger than ever before. A serum, they called it. Said it would grant superhuman abilities, an edge against the dangers of the world.

It worked.

Everything they had given us before had proven useful, so why would we doubt them? They had gained our trust, and we, in our ignorance, became dependent on them. We thought they were our saviors.

We couldn't have been more wrong."

The elder's voice grew quieter, as if speaking the next words aloud would make them more real.

"At first, the results were incredible. The young men and women who took the serum became faster, stronger—capable of feats we never thought possible. We believed we had been gifted warriors, defenders of our village."

His fingers tightened around the armrest of his chair, his knuckles pale.

"But the strength came at a cost. Their tempers shortened. Their bodies changed. It started small—unusual cravings, heightened aggression. And then… the nightmares. They screamed in their sleep, clawing at their own flesh. Some claimed to hear voices whispering in the dark. Others spoke of a hunger that never faded, no matter how much they ate."

A deep, ragged sigh left his lips.

"Then, one night, the lab went silent. No guards patrolling, no scientists making their rounds. Just an eerie, empty stillness. And that's when it happened. The screams started—inhuman, guttural. We thought it was an attack, so we rushed to defend ourselves. But what we saw…" He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing.

"They weren't human anymore."

The air in the room grew heavier, the flickering lantern casting restless shadows against the walls.

Nicole shifted uncomfortably. "What happened to them?"

The elder's sunken eyes met hers, filled with grief. "They killed. And they kept killing. By morning, half the village was gone. They tore through their own families, their own children, as if they had never known love. And when the sun rose, only one remained. The strongest of them all."

His frail hands trembled slightly as he clasped them together.

"That thing—the one you fought—it wasn't always a monster. Once, it was one of us."

Silence filled the hut, thick and suffocating. The weight of the elder's words settled over us like a shroud.

Nicole clenched her fists. "And you just let it roam free after all that?"

The elder's expression darkened. "You think we didn't try?" His voice was sharp now, the fatigue momentarily replaced with raw emotion. "We fought. We burned what remained of the lab, hunted it through the forests, set traps—nothing worked. The creature is not just strong. It is smart. It learned. It waits until our guard is down, then strikes. We lost our best warriors trying to stop it. Now, all we can do is endure."

I let out a slow exhale, rubbing the back of my neck. "So you called us to clean up your mess."

Ken scoffed. "Figures."

The elder ignored our remarks, his tired eyes settling on me. "No. We called for help because we have no other choice. You saw it for yourself. That thing isn't a simple beast—it's a predator, one that enjoys the hunt. And each time it kills, it grows stronger."

I met his gaze, unflinching. "Then tell us, old man—how do we kill it?"

The elder sighed, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his answer. "You don't."

Nicole tensed beside me, and even Ken's usual smirk faltered.

The elder continued, voice grim. "No one has ever lasted long enough to find a way. But if you're truly determined to see this through, there is one place that may hold the answers you seek."

He gestured toward the far wall, where a crude map of the village and its surroundings was pinned. His frail hand traced a path beyond the village, to the ruins of the lab.

"The place where it all began." His voice was barely above a whisper now. "If there is a way to kill this creature, it lies in what remains of that cursed place."

A quiet beat passed before Ken chuckled dryly. "Of course. Back to the source." He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. "Well, at least we know where we're headed."

Nicole turned to me, eyes firm. "Liam?"

I stared at the map, at the path leading into darkness. A part of me wanted to walk away—this wasn't my fight. And yet, something in the elder's voice, in the way he spoke of the monster, struck a chord deep within me.

A creature that grew stronger with each battle. A predator learning from its prey.

This wasn't just some mindless beast. This was something else entirely.

I exhaled sharply. "Fine. We check out the ruins. But if this turns out to be a dead end—" I shot a glance at the elder. "—then we're done here."

The elder gave a slow nod. "May the sky watch over you."

Nicole turned back to the door, her hand resting on the handle. "Let's move."

As we stepped out of the hut, the cold night air wrapped around us like a suffocating veil. The village was eerily quiet, the only sounds being the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional creak of wooden structures shifting in the wind.

Ken clicked his tongue, glancing up at the sky. "It's getting darker. If we go after that thing now, we'll be at a disadvantage. That beast can see in the dark, but we can't. We'd be walking straight into its domain."

I crossed my arms, scanning the treetops. Not a single trace of moonlight. "He's right. There's barely any light out. My Shadow abilities won't be much use if there aren't any shadows to control."

The elder's face twisted with worry. "You don't understand. If you wait until morning, there might not be a village left to protect." His voice carried an edge of desperation now. "It doesn't attack every night, but if it knows you're here, it might strike just to test you. To see what you can do."

Nicole stepped forward, raising a hand. "We hear you, elder, but we can't charge in blindly. If we fight it now, we'll be fighting on its terms. That's a battle we can't afford to lose." She turned to me and Ken. "We set up a perimeter. A barrier to keep it from attacking tonight."

Ken exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Tch. Fine. Better than getting ripped apart in the dark."

I gave a slight nod. "Agreed."

The elder still looked uncertain, but he sighed in reluctant acceptance. "If you believe that's the best course… then I'll trust your judgment."

Nicole turned back toward the village. "Then let's get to work. We only have a few hours before it decides to strike."

She turned to me with a thoughtful expression. "Liam, can you set up a barrier with your abilities? Something to keep the beast out?"

I let out an irritated sigh, rolling my shoulders. "And who made you the leader?" My tone was sharp, laced with impatience. I was getting tired of her always barking orders like she was the one in charge.

Before she could respond, Ken beat her to it. "She's the best for the position." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And what the hell makes you think that?"

Ken crossed his arms, meeting my glare with a smirk. "Because you're selfish and prone to running off on your own. I can't trust you to lead when you'll ditch us the first chance you get. As for me? I can admit I'm reckless, unpredictable even. But Nicole?" He jerked his head toward her. "She's calm, calculated, and never acts on impulse. Unlike us."

Nicole remained silent, watching the exchange with unreadable eyes.

I scoffed, looking away. "Tch. Whatever." I wasn't about to argue, not when I knew he had a point. But that didn't mean I liked it.

Nicole didn't waver. "So? Can you do it?"

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "I'm not exactly great at barriers." I glanced toward the darkening sky. "But I can set up something that encloses the village. It won't be strong enough to keep the beast out, but it'll warn us if anything tries to get through."

Nicole nodded. "That's good enough. Do it."

I clicked my tongue but didn't argue. Muttering under my breath, I stretched out my hand, letting my shadows seep into the ground. The air around us grew colder as tendrils of darkness slithered outward, tracing the village perimeter like a living pulse. It wasn't much, but it would do for now.

As I worked, my shadows curling around the village's perimeter, Nicole turned to Ken. Her voice was quiet but firm. "Thanks for standing up for me earlier."

Ken scoffed, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Don't get the wrong idea. I only said what made the most sense." He exhaled slowly, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "You leading means I have a better chance of surviving this mess. And I intend to stay alive long enough to see Selena again."

Nicole studied him for a moment before nodding. "Still… I appreciate it."

Ken didn't respond, but the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips before he turned away.

I finished my work, stepping back as the faint glow of my barrier shimmered around the village. I wiped a bit of sweat from my brow, my expression unreadable.

"It's done," I muttered. "If that thing crosses the perimeter, we'll know."

The village elder, still uneasy, eyed the barely visible dome. "You're certain this will hold?"

I shot him a glare. "I already said it's not meant to hold anything back—just to alert us if it tries to get in."

Nicole crossed her arms. "Then we take shifts. We rest, but one of us stays up to watch for any disturbances."

Ken groaned. "Great. Guess we're playing night watch now."

"We need to be in top shape for tomorrow," Nicole reminded him. "Fighting that thing while exhausted isn't an option."

I exhaled sharply. "Fine. Just don't expect me to play babysitter." Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked off toward one of the empty huts the villagers had offered us for the night.

Nicole and Ken exchanged glances before Nicole sighed. "I'll take first watch. You get some rest."

Ken gave her a lazy salute. "Don't have to tell me twice." He stretched, then headed for the same hut I was in.

Nicole remained outside, her gaze shifting between the dark forest beyond the barrier and the flickering lanterns in the village. The night felt unnervingly silent.

As she finished her round, she knelt beside me and gave my shoulder a firm tap.

"Your turn," she whispered.

I didn't move. My breathing remained steady, my body still. But she wasn't fooled. With an annoyed sigh, she jabbed my shoulder harder.

"I know you're awake."

Cracking one eye open, I scowled. "What gave it away?"

She smirked. "Your fake sleeping sucks."

I sighed and sat up, running a hand through my hair. "Figures you'd be annoying even at night."

Nicole ignored me and stood, stretching. "Nothing happened during my watch, but I still have a bad feeling."

I rolled my shoulders and stood, adjusting my coat. "If something was going to attack, it would've done it by now."

"Maybe," she murmured, glancing at the dark treeline beyond the barrier. "Just… stay alert."

I scoffed. "Yeah, yeah. Go get your beauty sleep, princess."

She shot me a look but didn't argue. Instead, she climbed onto her sleeping mat, pulling the blanket over herself. Ken was already passed out, snoring lightly in the corner.

I watched her lay on a mat before exhaling through my nose. The night stretched before me, quiet and still. Too still.

With a sharp breath, I leaned against a wooden post, arms crossed, my eyes flickering to the shadows beyond the village.

If that thing was watching us… I was watching right back.

I leaned against the wooden railing outside the hut, eyes scanning the darkness beyond the village. The only sounds were the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. My barrier still held, though I doubted it would do much if the beast really wanted to tear through it.

I heard soft footsteps behind me and didn't bother turning.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" I muttered.

Nicole sighed and crossed her arms. "I can't sleep in this condition."

I scoffed. "What, the luxurious accommodations too much for you?"

She ignored my sarcasm, stepping up beside me. "I just don't like the feeling of waiting. It's like we're sitting ducks."

I glanced at her. The usual sharpness in her expression was dulled by fatigue, but she was still alert, her gaze flickering toward the treeline.

"So what? You gonna keep me company all night?"

She shrugged. "Might as well."

For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence between us wasn't uncomfortable, just… there.

Then she broke it. "You think it'll attack tonight?"

I exhaled through my nose. "Doubt it. If it's smart enough to evade hunters, it won't throw itself at us without a plan."

Nicole nodded slowly. "Still, something feels off."

I didn't disagree. There was an itch at the back of my mind, a nagging sense that something wasn't right.

But until the beast showed itself, all we could do was wait.

Nicole let out a slow breath, her arms still crossed as she stared into the darkness. "Liam…" Her voice was quieter now, almost hesitant.

I arched a brow. "What?"

She hesitated, then said, "I'm sorry."

I frowned. "For what?"

"For not telling you what Helen planned. For convincing you to be part of this mission without knowing the full picture. And… if you feel like I made a fool out of you, I'm sorry for that too."

I stared at her for a long moment, watching the way her fingers tensed around her arms. She actually meant it.

"Tch." I turned my gaze back to the treeline. "I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity," she insisted. "I just—" She exhaled sharply, frustrated. "I should've told you. I knew you'd be angry, but I thought if I told you, you wouldn't come. And I—"

"You what?" I cut in, my tone sharp.

Nicole bit her lip before answering. "I didn't want you to disappear."

My fingers curled into fists. I didn't know if I was more pissed that she admitted it or that she wasn't wrong. If she had told me, I wouldn't have stepped through that damn portal.

But I wasn't about to admit that.

"Hmph." I leaned back against the wall. "Doesn't change anything."

"I know," she said softly. "But I still wanted to say it."

I didn't respond. I just kept my eyes locked on the darkness, listening to the night.

The night stretched on in heavy silence, broken only by the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional crackle of the dying fire. Nicole stayed beside me, neither of us speaking any further.

There was nothing more to say. Apologies wouldn't change what had already happened, and trust wasn't something easily repaired. But as we stood there, side by side, watching the shadows shift beyond the barrier, a quiet understanding settled between us. Whatever came next—whatever horrors waited for us in the dark—we would face it together. At least for now.

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